"No. No, Garth, no. I just need you to check up on Krissy every now and again. No don't- Garth are you even listening to me? Garth? Hello?" Dean sighed. "Dumbass."
Wait, Dean? Winchester? I sat up groggily, rubbing my eyes and surveying my surroundings. I'd been sleeping on a couch, which evidently wasn't so great for my neck. But, wait a minute, I knew this couch. And this room. And this cabin. And Dean Winchester. I was in Bobby Singer's house. Why was I so surprised by that? Of course I was in Bobby's house. We'd just finished up on a hunt in the area. Duh.
My hair must be a mess. And my makeup was probably smeared everywhere from when I crashed last night. Man I must have been really tired. I had the weirdest dream.
"Hey, Cassie, you okay? You look a little spooked." Dean closed and tossed his phone into a bag. He was already dressed in his customary multi-layered get up. Those layers. I sighed internally at the amount of clothing he always insisted on wearing.
"Oh, I..." why was I feeling so star-struck? I mean, even more than usual. Being in the presence of a Winchester sort of had that effect. I knew it was my dream that was messing with my mind, since I was still in the stage between extreme sleepiness and moderate ability to function. But I was still trying to put my finger on what exactly I had dreamed about. "Yeah, I just had the weirdest dream though, man."
Dean sat down in a chair across from me, gave a knowing nod and asked, "Clowns or midgets?"
Classic Dean response. I cracked a smile. "Neither, Dean." I replied, feigning annoyance though the smile on my face betrayed me. I got up and stretched, trying to sort through what I remembered of the dream. "Well, I think I dreamed that my life was a TV show," I began when Dean interrupted me with, "Well that sounds familiar."
"What?" I asked him.
"Nevermind."
"Anyway, our lives were a TV show, but I was kind of... I guess you would say obsessed with it. I watched it nonstop. Also I was something called a 'fangirl'." I shuddered. "I think I had ships."
"Ships? Like boats or like relationship ships?"
"I'd rather not talk about it." I frowned. For some reason I found it hard to look at him. I also neglected to mention the part of my dream where I contributed a disconcerting amount of my time to crushing on and blogging about Dean. Mostly because it hit a little too close to home. Well, not the blogging part. Kinda hard to run a blog when you're on the run from demons and suchlike. "Oh, and, I actually went to school. It was terrible."
Dean laughed. God, I loved it when he laughed. "That all?"
I thought about it. "Man, I must have been in a deep sleep because that dream was freakin' detailed. I spent way too much time online-"
"Sounds like someone else I know." Dean interrupted, absently looking over at Sam's laptop.
"-and I watched way too much television and I didn't even hunt. I just, like, sat around wishing I had a different life all the time. But speaking of, where is Sam?" It seemed like Dean and I were the only ones in the house. I tried not to dwell too much on that.
"Oh, he went on a supply run. We got a call about a possible vamp sighting over in Oregon. Heading out as soon as Sam comes back. Gotta call Cas too, if the bastard ever answers." Dean's eyes glazed over momentarily and a hint of the emotions he always tried so hard to conceal showed on his face. Then, just as quickly, he snapped out of it. "Hey, I'm just glad you don't insist we call you Cass. That'd get confusing real quick, huh."
"Hm. Maybe I'll start then," I smirked. "You know me, always causin' trouble." I sort of shrugged and raised my arms as if to say, "It can't be helped." and put on my best innocent face.
Dean smiled. I went off to the bathroom to brush my teeth and do something about my hair.
I opened the bathroom door, looked in the sink, and sighed. Sam had left his hairdryer in there again. That boy. I swear, he spent more time on his hair than I did. I smiled to myself as I went digging around for a hairbrush, all but forgetting that strange and detailed dream.
