In my dream I was alone, darkness drenching me. Completely blind I stayed as still as possible, trying to get my bearings unsuccessfully.
Then there was laughing. Low, haunting, chilling. My stomach dropped and heart skipped. Breathing slowly in through my nose, I blew out my breath through my pursed lips.
"Ivy…" a familiar voice stretch my name out. It bounced around me, flooding the space. I lost all sense of direction the moment I spun around. I knew that voice. I loved that voice. That was-
"Dean?" My voice trembled as I called out my best friend's name. "Please." I don't understand why I always yell please. Like it's going to stop him.
"C'mere sweetheart." His voice was directly behind me. I spun around but still couldn't see anything. I tripped backwards, stumbling away. Running blindly, I didn't stop until I hit something. Not something. Someone.
"Dean."
"Hi sweetheart." I felt the sharp, hard edge of a bone blade at my throat. Dean leaned down and planted one on me, hard, even as I tried to pull away. "Didn't you miss me?" Just before I wake up, I feel the excruciating pain across my neck.
I stared at the ceiling of my room in the bunker, contemplating this reoccurring dream. Light seeped under the door from where I'd left the hall light on- my nightmares were getting to me. Dean had left two weeks ago, Sam two days after. Cas had stopped by once on Sam's request but I'd been alone. Just me and my brokenheartedness over the man I'd loved and lost. Not lost, the cynical part of me interjected. Not like that. Part of me wished Dean was dead, that I could have some type of closure in my grief. But no. No, instead he was running around with the King of Hell, black eyes and black heart.
I rolled over to check my clock. Two-thirty. I'd finally collapsed around midnight after researching for a solid thirteen hours. I wasn't really sure what I was looking for, maybe proof he was gone or hope we could bring him back.
Throwing myself out of bed, I stumbled down the hall to the kitchen, grabbing a beer and heading back to my room. After downing my most-important-meal-of-the-day, I flipped open my laptop and searched up the common demon signs. A news report flashed upon, my black-eyed beau grinning up at me before busting out of the store. Slamming the lid shut I pressed the palms of my hands into my eyes, the stress, exhaustion, and overall rollercoaster of the past few weeks hitting me in force. "Only one thing to do when frustrated."
I grabbed the first gun I saw in the shooting range, Dean's heavy semi-automatic. As my hand wrapped around the smooth handle, a memory hit me.
Dean wraps his arms around me, hand covering mine as he leans over my shoulder, one eye shut.
"Alright, so line up, head down a bit, aim, and-". The kickback forces me back into his chest, bullet landing squarely in the center of the target. "Not bad for your first time!" Dean smiles down at me, arms still over mine.
"Thanks," I laugh, looking back up at him. Aware that I'm staring, I turn to the target, surveying the punctured paper.
"Ivy." Dean takes the gun from my hand and pulls me around to face him again. He's not smiling anymore, but straightfaced, watching me down his nose.
"What?" I'm confused. "Did I do something wrong?"
He shakes his head. "Shh." Reaching down, he gently pulls me to him, kissing me firmly, forcing me onto my tiptoes. At first I'm startled, but after a pause I return his kiss, wrapping my arms around his neck as he picks me up and pulls me to him, hands clasped under my legs. After a moment we come up for air and he sets me down.
"Wow." I'm at a loss for words, but Dean's just smirking down at me. "Uh, thanks?"
"No problem. And just as a warning, I'm going to be doing that a lot more."
"Thanks for the heads up."
I shake myself out of my reverie, dropping the gun back on the counter and grabbing one of Sam's instead. Lining up, I fire off a round before refilling. For an hour, I let my arms ache and mind go numb to anything but the shooting lane in front of me. Finally, I shake out my hands and rub my face. "Time for another nap."
Hours later I'm up again, pacing the floor with a phone in one hand and a glass of Jack in the other. "Sam! Hey! Give me a call back! It's Ivy!" I dropped my phone to the table and gulped my glass. After a moment my phone jumped to life and I grabbed it, expecting Sam. "Finally, you haven't called me back in ages-"
"I've missed you, too."
Total, petrifying, fear stunned me as the voice of nightmares filled my ears. I couldn't speak, couldn't breathe. I was frozen.
"What's the matter, babe?" Dean murmured through the phone. "Aren't you glad to hear from me?"
"Dean." My voice was tiny, weak even to my own ears.
"You're so cute when you're surprised. So what have you been up to? Hanging around the bunker waiting for Sammy to show up or Cas to stop by?" He sounded wrong, harder, more angry than I'd ever heard him.
"What do you want Dean?" I managed to breathe out.
"Same thing I've always wanted- you." I slumped into a chair, sure I heard him wrong.
"What?"
"I wasn't kidding. I do miss you. I love you, Ives. Always have, always will." For the first time that felt like a threat coming from him.
"Stay away from me Dean."
"Mmm… nah. I don't like to be told what to do. And it's not like I don't know where you are. The Bunker, right? Holed up, all alone, pining away for your boyfriend?" I could hear him smiling, laughing at me.
"No. You're wrong. Sam and I agreed it'd be better to be far away from the Bunker right now. Find somewhere else safe and secure. Some motel somewhere."
"Whatever you say Princess." He knew I was lying, there was no way he'd believe me. "But wherever you are, I'll be by soon. Stop in and say hi." He sighed. "Well, that's all the time I got. I'm sure you'll be dropping this phone somewhere, but I'll find you, no worries. Love you babe."
The call ended with a beep. I shivered, fighting back tears. I had to get out, go somewhere, really, truly leave, and soon. If Dean really did come looking for me I had to be gone. Sprinting to my door, I burst open the door of my room, pulling clothes out of my drawer, dumping flannels and jeans and boots onto my bed. I grabbed a too-big Zeppelin shirt, the classic faded font vertical down the dark grey shirt.
It was movie night. Footloose was my choice and even though Dean griped and teased, I could see his small smile. I leaned into him, my head resting on his neck, his arm wrapped around my waist, hand locked on my hip. About halfway through, he leaned into you, softly kissing your neck. His kisses became more hungry, more needy. He pulled me into his lap as I laughed. Moving around my neck and clavicle he kissed me hard and passionately. A cough came from across the TV room, and we froze. Sam watched us with arched eyebrows.
"You guys want to get a room?" Sam laughed.
Dean's eyes bore into me. "We don't need to get one. We have one."
I woke up with my head over Dean's tattoo, his bare chest my favorite pillow. His arm was cupped around me, hand gripping my arm possessively. I stretched, one hand running through Dean's dirty blond hair to wake him up.
"Hey babe." He smiled down at me, biting his lip.
"I need food, Dean. Let's go out and get breakfast." I pulled on his muscular arm.
"Not like that." He teased, glancing at me.
I climbed out of bed grabbing my clothes and pulling them on. Before I could grab my shirt, I saw Dean's from the other night.
"Led Zeppelin suits you. You can keep it."
I threw the shirt back into my drawer and piled all my clothes into an old duffel Sam had lent to me. I pulled three hundred dollars from an old notebook and called Sam.
"Sam. I'm getting out. Dean knows where I am and I can't...I can't be here if he's coming for me. I'm going to find a motel and get out for a while. I'll give you a call when I find one. Or-or send Cas to meet me I don't know I just gotta get out. Please. Please give me a call back."