Baby (By Olivia)
Dean and Sam had gotten separated in the woods and were significantly out of cell phone range. Tired of searching for his brother, Dean decided to make his way back to the Impala. Only, when he entered the clearing, his car was gone. He descended into panic mode.
"Baby?" He called. "Who took my baby?!"
As his heart began to jump dangerously close to the surface of his chest, he suddenly heard the roar of the Impala's engine flare up. It surrounded him, coming from every direction and increasing in volume until he was crouched down on the ground, his hands over his ears and his face contorted in pain.
And then it just stopped. He leapt to his feet, turning this way and that, desperation taking over him.
"It's okay, Dean."
A woman emerged from behind a tree. Her skin was silver and shimmered in the sunlight and she was clad in a slim, black dress. She walked slowly towards him, her hair flowing in the still air. She obviously wasn't human, no human has skin that color. But Dean didn't reach for a weapon. He didn't do anything. He simply stood there, enraptured in her presence. She reached him and smiled.
"I've wanted to talk to you for a very long time," she breathed, her voice raspy but alluring. She lifted her hand to his face and stroked his cheek. He looked down at her wrist and saw a tattoo there. A tattoo that spelled out "KAZ 2Y5." And he instantly knew who she was.
But she wasn't possible.
"You're...but...how?" Dean had never been at a bigger loss for words.
She pressed a finger to his lips. "Shhh, that doesn't matter now. All that matters is we can finally be face-to-face."
She leaned in, her breath on his.
"What do I even call you?" Dean asked dumbly.
She laughed. "What do you think?"
"Baby."
And they threw themselves into each other. No one understood Dean like she did. She was his one true love, the constant in his life, more loving and accepting than Sam could ever be. Their lips moved in sync, like it was the most natural thing in the world, and slowly that sunk into a bed of grass...
"...d..."
"...Dean..."
"...DEAN!"
Dean shot up out of bed, his pillow clutched tight to his chest. Sam was watching him, toothbrush in hand. He smirked.
"Weird dream?"
"Dean looked around. Dream? Son of a bitch, it had been a dream... it's hard to tell with this line of work... "Yeah, I guess you could say that."
The two of them then went about their morning routine, getting dressed for the day and gathering their gear. But when they were ready to leave and Dean slid behind the wheel of the Impala, he avoided looking the dashboard in the eye.