~For Miss Brittany, who makes all my little dreams come true~
1 year 5 months and 16 days, 112 hunts, 2 beautiful friendships, and countless lives saved. That's the statistics of my past year and a half, basically. But beneath that, there is so much more. When Sam and Dean asked me to come with them on their 'living in the now, to save the future', I didn't know if I was ready. I almost turned back too, but now I'm so glad I didn't.
Sam, he's like a best friend. He listens to all my shenanigans, and read all my favorite books. He's always just there and happy, and ready help. Dean... Well Dean... Dean Winchester is something else. He's special or at least he is to me. His eyes are just the right shade of green and always sparkle in the light. I've found myself on numerous occasions staring at his perfect features, and thinking to myself how sweet the feeling, if maybe he could like me.
Well, it's more the opposite. He does like me, or at least I think he does he certainly makes an effort to get my attention and doesn't let me alone at bars, which isn't all together a bad thing at all. It's just, I've never been in love before. I don't really know what love is, but I wish I did. I want to love, and be loved I just don't know how. I'll figure it out eventually, but for now, it's just silent torture.
"Another one bites the dust," Dean jokes, shutting the trunk of the Impala after I tossed my dirty work gloves inside. Typical salt and burn, no biggie.
"Plus 10 points for a Queen reference," Sam laughed, climbing into the passenger seat. I didn't mind riding in back, made things a little easier at times.
Dean got inside and started up the car, driving off towards the high way. We had to be at Bobby's house by dawn tomorrow, and he's at least a good 3 hours away. Dean cranked up the tunes, and we began another long trip.
The sun began to set, and my eyes began to droop. I caught a glance at Dean looking at me in the rear view mirror.
"You tired (Y/N)?" he asked. I was going to say something but instead a great big yawn came out. "So that's a yes," he chuckled. I tried not to blush. "Do me a favor, call Bobby and tell him we aren't going there at dawn. He desperately need a good night's rest,"
I opened my mouth to protest, but was met with another sleepy yawn. So I slipped my phone from my sweater pocket and placed a call to Bobby. After some shorthanded explaining, Bobby let us off the hook and Dean pulled into the nearest roadside motel. I went inside to check in with him, leaving Sam peacefully snoozing in the car.
"King or two Queens?" the middle aged woman with a cigarette in between her painted red lips. I don't like the way the words drip like thick syrup from her lips. Like she's trying to be sexy, but landed up being creepy.
"Two Queens, my brother is in the car outside," her face looks a little dejected. If Dean hadn't added that last bit, she probably be licking her chops. As if sensing my discomfort Dean slipped a hand in mine, and gave a gentle squeeze. The lady gave us our room key, and we got out of there. Dean didn't let my hand go, until he opened the car door for me so we could get in and park the Impala in front of our motel room.
It was nice to fall asleep that night. I shared a bed with Dean like always, which was absolute pain. Because I want to do something, but I just don't know how to open myself up to that. But tonight it was different. After I had laid down and closed my eyes, I felt the mattress dip beside me, Dean lying down. But what I didn't' expect was Dean's same warm hand ghosting gently over my hip and resting there. My head and heart did a couple summer saults.
This was perfect. Affection without over expression and lust. I drank in the whole of this moment, froze it in time in my memory. Just as my brain hit save, I fell asleep.
The next morning, I woke up and the good feeling was gone. His hand wasn't on my hip, and his warmth was not in the bed. I sat up leaning against the head board, stretching my arms up above my head. Dean came out of the bathroom, and sat down on the bed.
"Hey," he turned to look at me. "You wanna go get some coffee and take a walk with me?"
I smiled, I could use a good cup of coffee.
"Sure,"
15 minutes later Dean and I walked, hand in hand again to my surprise down the street, into town where we could pick up some hot coffee and maybe some doughnuts or something.
On the way back, Dean holds the tray with the three hot coffees and I hold the pretty pink box full of doughnuts.
"So, I was uh, I was hoping we could talk. About last night," he started coolly.
"What about it?" I teased knowing exactly what he meant, but still feeling a bit uneasy and using humor to hide behind.
"You know what I'm talking about," he chuckled.
"Okay... so what about that part of last night?" my heart began to beat a little faster.
"Well I was kinda hoping we could make little stuff like that a regular thing, ya know. Like we could be together, what do you think of that?"
"I think I like that idea," I shock myself by saying these words so boldly, "Just... can we... can we go slow? I'm a little new at this,"
Dean gave a laugh. "Of course, we can go however fast or slow you need to,"
And that was it, like one of the famous renaissance sculptures. I began to have little pieces nicked away, all the little shavings and chipped off bits being my self-consciousness. Like he said it was the little things that broke me free of the cage I gave myself. Holding his hand. Hugs. Letting him hold my hip or drape his arm over me at night. His little compliments, and interesting little gifts. All these things and more, helped me move into the 'love game'. And finally let me love Dean.
