Disclaimer: I own nothing but the delicious fantasies of Sam and Dean that are currently bouncing around in my skull. I'm gonna try to put up lyrics from all of my title songs, so that way you can kind of figure out the context of the chapter. The song for this title is I Won't Let Go by Rascal Flatts. It really kind of defines Dean's relationship with Tawny, not just in this chapter but throughout the series. Plus, it makes me cry like a baby. Listen to it! Buah hahahahaha!

Enjoy, ya'll!

It's like a storm that cuts a path
It breaks your will, it feels like that
You think you're lost, but you're not lost
On your own, you're not alone

I will stand by you, I will help you through
When you've done all you can do
And you can't cope, I will dry your eyes
I will fight your fight, I will hold you tight
And I won't let go

"Oh, man. Dean is gonna be pissed…"

Tawny looked up at Sam, then back to the Impala. The sight of it made her want to cry, partially because she knew how much she meant to Dean, and partially because it broke her heart to see such a perfect piece of machinery turned into junk. She slowly walked towards it, stopping when she was on the driver's side of the back seat. She peeked in, seeing the blood staining the white leather and she had to turn away knowing it was Dean's blood.

"Look, Sam, this – this just ain't worth a tow," Bobby said, lifting the hood to look under it. When he set it down, it tilted up, completely torn away from the body of the car. Tawny looked from her father to Sam, who was pulling his destroyed laptop out of the backseat. Bobby huffed before continuing.

"I say we empty the trunk, and we sell the rest for scrap," he suggested gently, looking from Tawny to Sam. Sam pulled the cover of his laptop, saw how useless it was, and dropped it on the ground before looking up again.

"Dean would kill me if we did that. When he gets better he's gonna want to fix this."

Bobby circled the car, pointing out problems as he went. "There's nothing to fix. The frame's a pretzel. The engine's ruined. There's barely any parts worth salvaging," he reasoned. Tawny put her forearms on the roof, speaking for the first time since she got in the car at the hospital.

"Dad's right, Sam. I know how much he loves this car, but it's just not a car anymore," she said softly, looking at her father. He glanced at her as Sam spoke.

"Listen to me, guys. If there's only one working part, that's enough. We're not just gonna just give up on…" Sam looked away as his speech drifted off. Tawny looked down at her hands, tears filling her eyes. She knew what Sam was doing; psychologists would call it projection, she just called it trying to keep hope. She looked back up at Sam.

"Okay, you got it."

Tawny walked over to Bobby and he put an arm around her shoulders, kissing her forehead. They were silent for a moment before Sam pulled something out of his pocket. He unfolded a piece of crumpled paper, passing it across the roof of the car.

"Here… um, dad asked if you could get this stuff for him."

Bobby pulled his arm away from Tawny, grabbing the list and scanning it, Tawny reading it over his shoulder.

"What's your dad want with this?" Tawny asked, looking from the list to Sam. He shrugged. "Protection from the demon."

Tawny and Bobby looked at each other, then at Sam, who looked at them, confused. "What?" he asked. Tawny shook her head. "Nothing, Sam, it's just, uh," she started, shoving her hands in her pockets as she looked at her father for answers.

"Bobby, what's going on?" Sam asked, turning his gaze from Tawny's down turned gaze to Bobby. When Bobby didn't answer either, Sam sighed, annoyed. "Oh, come on! I'm so sick of the damn secrets! Just fucking tell me!" he yelled, and Bobby and Tawny both looked up. Sam never dropped the F-bomb. Ever. Which is exactly why Tawny took a deep breath and grabbed the list from her father's hand.

"This stuff, Sam, it's not used for protection. Essence of Wolfbane, Ashes of a Lesser Saint, goat's blood… They're used to summon a demon, not keep one away," she said, handing the list back to her father. Sam stared her down, making Tawny nervous with the amount of fury brewing behind his eyes. "Sam, say something…" she pleaded quietly, crossing her hands over her chest. Sam fumed, running his hand roughly through his hair.

"I knew it. I knew he'd do this," he muttered angrily. Bobby cleared his throat. "So, uh, do you still want me to get this stuff for him?" he asked carefully. Sam's arm dropped to his side and he tapped his fingertips against his thigh, a sign Tawny knew well that meant the wheels in his big head were turning. Finally he spoke.

"Yeah. If he wants to do this, fine. I don't care anymore," Sam said, jutting his chin out to feign strength. Tawny, however knew otherwise. Sam glanced at her nervously, almost asking if he was doing the right thing. Tawny bit her lip, turning to Bobby.

"You think you can get all this stuff while we eat? I'm starving and Sam… Well, Sam needs to gain a few pounds, quite frankly," she said, walking around and poking Sam in the ribs. He playfully swatted at her hand, a lopsided grin she'd missed adorning Sam's mouth. When she looked back at her father, he was watching them with a melancholy grin on his face.

"You two haven't changed," he said quietly, and Tawny's grinned faded a bit. Before she could say anything, Bobby cleared his throat and tapped the list. "Anyways, yeah, I'll have this stuff in about an hour. I'll meet you back here," he said, walking around to the side of the car Sam and Tawny were on. Tawny hugged him, kissing his cheek. "Thanks, daddy," she whispered in his ear, not talking about the list at all. He grunted, clearly not wanting to do the mushy father-daughter thing in front of Sam. She pulled away, grinning at him. They watched as he climbed in his truck a drove off before getting back into Tawny's rental.

"So, I saw a diner down the street," Sam suggested. Tawny looked up at him, wanting so badly just to hug him and tell him that everything would be okay, that Dean would make it out alive because that edema had no clue who it was fucking with, that John really did love him and Dean, he just didn't know how to show it. But she only nodded, shifting the car into drive and heading out of the lot.

Sam was quiet for the ride back to the hospital. He hadn't talked much when he and Tawny were eating. In fact, he'd only spoken to thank Bobby. By the time they'd gotten into the elevator at the hospital, Tawny was worried that he might kill John. Her fears weren't relieved when they walked into his room and Sam went over to the window, a storm of fury brewing behind his eyes. John looked at Tawny, nodding towards his son with a look of confusion on his face. Tawny tilted her head to the side, all but saying "You know exactly what's wrong." John ignored the look and stared at Sam's back.

"You two are quiet," John said simply, and Tawny looked at him, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. She was working at finding the right words to say when Sam turned, throwing the duffle Bobby had given him onto the floor.

"You think I wouldn't find out?" he yelled, livid. John only stared at him, turning to look at Tawny for a moment. "What are you talking about?" he asked nonchalantly. Tawny scoffed, earning a glare from the older Winchester.

"That stuff from Bobby," Sam accused, his voice still a few decibels louder than usual. "You don't use it to ward off a demon – you use it to summon one. You're planning on bringing the demon here, aren't you? Having some stupid macho showdown!"

"Guys," Tawny warned, but they ignored her.

"I have a plan," answered John. Sam was quick to retort.

"That's exactly my point! Dean is dying and you have a plan! You know what? You care more about killing this demon than you do saving your own son," Sam spat, his eyes boring into John's. Tawny stood.

"Sam!" she said. "Sam, you know that's not true!"

But John interrupted her, seeming to be deaf to her defense.

"Do not tell me how I feel. I am doing this for Dean," he said. Tawny opened her mouth again, but Sam was yelling before she could get out a syllable.

"How? How is revenge gonna help him?" he demanded, looming over his father. "You're not thinking of anybody but yourself. It's the same selfish obsession!" Tawny marched around to pull Sam back.

"Stop it!" she yelled, pushing on Sam's chest. He acted like he didn't even notice her existence, glaring at his father over Tawny's head. John groaned irritably. "Tawny, get out of here. Go to Dean's room – this really doesn't concern you," he said through gritted teeth. Suddenly something sparked in Tawny's chest, anger shooting to her bones, and at that moment she wanted to hit John. She spun, staring down at him.

"None of my concern? Don't give me that shit, John Winchester! Your boys came to me to save your goddamned life and I helped, even after everything that happened between us! Then Sam called me and I got on a fucking plane and came down here to do what I could to help! And what do you do? You use me to trick Sam! And guess what? I'm still here, so don't you dare tell me that this isn't any of my concern!" she yelled. John stared at her, his eyes narrowing.

"Notice it wasn't me that asked for your help?" he said icily. Tawny backed up a step, tears stinging her eyes. "And you, Sam, you know what's funny? I thought this was your obsession, too. This demon killed your mother, killed your girlfriend. You begged me to be part of this hunt! Now, if you had killed that thing when you had the chance, none of this would have happened!" he finished.

"It was possessing you, dad! I would have killed you, too!" Sam yelled back. Tawny turned, a tear falling on her cheek as Sam and John continued to fight.

"Yeah," John said emphatically, "and your brother would be awake right now."

Sam stepped back, falling into line with Tawny. "Go to Hell," he said quietly. John only chuckled deprecatingly. "Oh, you know what, I should have never taken you along in the first place. I knew it was a mistake!" he yelled.

Suddenly there was a loud crash as a glass of water flew a few feet and landed on the floor. The three of them stared at the broken glass on the floor before looking back up at each other. Before anyone could say anything a woman's voice came over the PA and a crowd of nurses and Dean's doctor ran past the open door. John looked between them.

"Something's going on out there," he said, nudging his chin towards the door. Tawny and Sam both turned and ran out the door, Tawny grabbing the frame as she swung to the left. Her stomach dropped when she saw they were in Dean's room with a crash cart.

She felt numb as she watched them shocking Dean, trying to get his heart to beat again. By the third shock Tawny couldn't watch anymore and she turned, burying her face in Sam's chest. There was so much she'd wanted to tell Dean. So much she'd wanted to apologize for. She heard them doing CPR, and she heard Sam's voice low in her ear as he plead to some higher power with a simple "No". Then, finally, blessedly, she heard the stead beep of a heartbeat.

"What's in the bag?"

Tawny was looking up at Sam. She'd stayed in Dean's room after his close call, sitting in his chair and talking to him. She knew it didn't help him much, but it helped her more than anything. If she was talking, she didn't have to think about what she'd being doing if he hadn't bounced back.

"Uh, I'll tell you in a second," Sam said, walking up next to where she had pulled the chair over to the side of Dean's bed. He glanced at her hand where it rested in Dean's and she slowly pulled it away, wiping it on her jeans awkwardly. Sam spoke again, but not to Tawny.

"Hey," he started, staring at his brother. Tawny stood, her heels clicking too loud on the linoleum floor. She stopped at the foot of the bed and Sam continued.

"I think maybe you're around. And if you are, don't make fun of me for this, but, um, but there's one way we can talk."

Tawny watched him pull an Ouija board out of the paper bag and her eyes widen. "Sam," she warned quietly, looking at it with wide eyes. Sam looked up at her, perplexed at her obvious fear.

"What?" he asked, stumped. Tawny shook her head, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I don't do Ouija boards," she said simply. Sam chuckled, glancing at Dean.

"Why not?" he asked. Tawny scoffed, uncrossing her arms and putting them on her hips.

"Uh, did you not see The Exorcist? Sorry, but there's no guarantee it would be Dean on the other line and I'm sure Captain Howdy would love to have a chat," she said incredulously, raising an eyebrow. Sam cleared his throat.

"Alright, it may not be a guarantee, but tell me you don't feel him. Like he's here, standing close by, watching you."

At that moment Tawny suddenly felt a warmth on her back and she glanced around, seeing nothing. He had a point, she did feel something. She wasn't positive that it was Dean, but she was leaning in that direction. She sighed, rolling her eyes before walking towards him.

"Fine. But if anything freaky happens it's your fault," she said, poking Sam in the chest as he crossed her path. They both sat down, Tawny letting out a long breath.

"What's with the Lamaze?" Sam asked, raising his eyebrow at her as he took the lid off the box, tossing it on the floor next to him. She glared.

"Shut up and get on with it, Linda. We don't have all night," she reminded, waving her hand at him. Sam smiled briefly before taking the board out of the box.

"Dean?" he asked. "Dean, are you here?" He set the board down on the floor, grabbing the pointer and offering it to Tawny. She put her hands up and laughed sarcastically.

"Pfft, no. Get to it, psychic boy," she said. Sam shrugged, setting the pointer down. He'd only had his hands on it for a moment when it moved up, covering the "Yes" on the top left hand side. Sam gasped, looking up as he spoke.

"Oh, it's good to hear from you man! It hasn't been the same without you, Dean."

"Very funny," she said, shoving Sam's shoulder. He looked at her, his eyes wide. "Tawny, I swear it wasn't me. I swear," he insisted. Tawny's glare faded and she glanced around. She sighed loudly, rubbing her forehead.

"I feel like I'm at a slumber party séance…" she muttered. "Dean," she said clearly, looking up. "Dean, if you're here, and if you really are Dean…" She looked at Sam, her eyebrows high.

"If you really are Dean then you know how much I hate these things. I think it was you that chucked that glass across the room, so do something else. Touch me or something," she offered, glancing around. Suddenly, and without any warning, Dean's jacket lifted off of the back of the chair and fell to the ground. She looked at Sam, her eyebrows raised, and that's when she felt a hand on her knee. She looked down and nothing was there, so, naturally, she gasped and shuffled over to Sam's side before she could help herself.

"Okay, okay! I get it!" she said, raising her hands. Sam looked down at her, a smile plastered across his face. Suddenly Sam looked down and they watched as the pointer moved across the board.

"H…U…" Sam recited, then the pointer fell on N and Tawny raised an eyebrow.

"Hunt?" she asked, looking up at Sam. He glanced at her.

"Are you hunting something?" Sam asked, and once again the pointer slid to "Yes".

"Dean," Sam continued, his voice showing his excitement. Tawny couldn't help but be a bit excited herself, but she was trying to keep from having an irresponsible amount of hope. After all, things have turned worse under seemingly better circumstances. She was pulled from her thoughts when Sam spoke again.

"It's in the hospital, what you're hunting? Do you know what it is?"

Tawny watched the pointer slide around the board, her heart falling with each letter revealed.

"R… E…A… P…" she whispered, suddenly knowing exactly what it was. She looked up at Sam, shaking her head. "The Reaper?" she asked quietly. The tears came again when the pointer slid to "Yes".

"Dean, is it after you?" she asked quietly, her voice breaking. The pointer didn't move.

"If it's here naturally there's no way to stop it," Tawny said, looking at Sam.

"Man, Dean, you're, uh…" he started to say, but then he stopped, shaking his head. "No. No, no, no. Um, there's gotta be a way." He stood, heading towards the door. "Dad will know what to do."

"Sam," Tawny called after him, watching his back as he left. "Sam, don't you leave me alone in here!" She looked back at the board, turning it towards her.

"Uh, so, Dean… What do you wanna do while Sam's gone?" she asked, rubbing her hands together before putting her fingertips on the pointer. Her eyes widened as she felt it being pulled, sliding over letters almost effortlessly.

"F… U… C…" she recited. "Dean Winchester!" she yelled when it landed over the K. She stood, shaking her head. She walked over to his bedside, looking down at him.

"When you wake up, you pervert, I'm so gonna kick your dumb ass."

It didn't take Sam long to get back with John's journal, and the first thing he mentioned was that John wasn't in his room, which worried Tawny slightly. Sam opened the journal and immediately started reading, so Tawny went down the hall to get a cup of coffee, letting Sam do his thing in peace. She walked back slowly, pausing when she heard the book slam shut. Sam started speaking, so she stayed out of eyesight, listening to his speak.

"Dean, are you hear?"

She heard Sam sigh before continuing. "I couldn't find anything in the book. I don't know how to help you. But I'll keep trying, alright? As long as you keep fighting." She heard a sniffle and had to blink back her own tears.

"I mean, come on, you can't…" he started again, chuckling. "You can't leave me here alone with dad. We'll kill each other. You know that. Dean, you gotta hold on. You can't go, man, not now. We were just starting to be brothers again."

Sam stopped, and Tawny thought it was the perfect time to walk back in, so she wiped away her tears and rounded the corner just as the unexplainable happened. Dean shot up, coughing and gagging against the tube down his throat. Tawny looked up at Sam, frozen with shock. Sam, however, shouted for help.

Three Days Later

Tawny was on the couch in the study when Dean came downstairs for the first time since he'd gotten back from John's makeshift funeral. He'd only gotten out of the hospital that morning, Tawny managing to convince the hospital to release his body to her. She didn't mention the hearse she had belonged to a funeral home across town. She'd helped Sam and Bobby put his body in the back of Bobby's tow truck, ashamed of how they had to cover him with a tarp. Dean had watched her closely as she carefully tucked it around his head, apologizing.

He'd been silent on the drive back, too. Sam had ridden with Bobby, not wanting Dean to have to ride with his father's body, so Dean sat in the passenger's seat of Tawny's rental, only speaking once, when he told Tawny they needed to pull over. Then, when they got home that night, Sam and Dean took John's body out to the woods behind the house and cremated it. Tawny and Bobby both offered to help build his pyre, but the boys refused, wanting pay their father this last respect. So they stayed in the house that night, Bobby pretending to watch TV, Tawny pretending to read, both so lost in their thoughts they only realized Sam and Dean were back when Dean had put his hand on Tawny's shoulder. He'd stayed in the room across from hers, the one he'd usually shared with John when they came to visit. She brought him food, but he didn't leave the room. Not for two days.

But now he was walking across the room in a clean shirt and pair of jeans, his feet bare. He smiled fainty at Tawny, who returned the gesture. "Hey," she said softly, sitting up and patting the seat next to her. Dean took it, squeezing her knee as he sat.

"How're you doing?" she asked, crossing her legs and sliding a hand up to his shoulder. He shrugged, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He turned to look at her.

"Fine, I guess," he said, but Tawny could hear the pain behind the words. She nodded, though, knowing Dean wasn't exactly into sharing emotions. They held eye contact for what seemed like hours before Dean finally spoke.

"Do you think we could ever, uh, you know, be together?" he asked, looking away shyly. Tawny's eyes widened, completely taken aback. She closed the book she was reading, and stared at the cover for close to a minute before answering.

"Do you want the truth Dean?" she asked, finally looking up at him. He rolled his eyes, leaning back.

"Yeah, that's why I asked in the first place," he teased. She smiled faintly before turning so she was facing him, her shins pressed into his thighs.

"Okay," she breathed. "Honestly? Yes, I do think we could be together. Dad would hate it, and he might try to shoot you… again. But, yeah, I think if we both try at it, we could be together."

Dean stared back at her like she'd said the exact opposite of what he expected. She raised her eyebrow at him, silently urging him to say something. She was relieved when he finally did.

"I was expecting for you to, uh, throw something at me or… something…" he confessed, rubbing the back of his neck and averting his gaze. Tawny grinned, putting a hand on his knee and pushing herself up. She reached out her hand and he took it, smiling up at her as he stood. Tawny gasped when he suddenly grabbed her waist and surged at her, pressing his lips to hers in a powerful kiss. It only lasted a few seconds, but Tawny felt the weight of the world in that kiss. He pulled back, a grin on his face, and Tawny shook her head.

"Well, when you want something you're just a go-getter, aren't you?" she whispered against his mouth. He chuckled and took her hands in his, leaning his forehead against hers.

"So, where's my car?" he finally asked. Tawny couldn't help the lump that formed in her throat. He still hadn't seen the damage to the Impala and she really didn't want to see the look on his face when he did.

"It's out by the garage," she replied, looking up at him. "Dean… I have to be honest, it's pretty bad." She pulled away from him to look straight into his eyes. He grinned.

"Well, duh, Sherlock. It was hit by a semi," he said. She shrugged and turned to walk out. "Don't say I didn't warn you then, smartass," she called over her shoulder. Five minutes later they were weaving through junk cars on their way to the garage. Bobby was in town, probably buying more liquor, and Sam was… Tawny had no idea where Sam was.

When they finally made it to the car, Dean stopped. Tawny glanced up at his face, immediately regretting it. She watched as a lone tear fell down his cheek before he slowly circled the car, shaking his head. He'd made it back to the hood and was peeking under it when Tawny walked up behind him, placing a hand on his lower back.

"Um, dad said you can use anything in the garage… Anything we don't have, he'll get for you," she offered, stepping back as he dropped the hood. He looked around, walking away to grab a jack from inside the garage.

He was positioning it at the back of the car when Tawny put a hand on his shoulder.

"You don't have to do this alone, Dean."

She was sure he thought she only meant the car, but he stared up at her, wrapping a hand around her calf gently.

"Yeah, yeah I do, Tawny," he responded softly. She nodded, trying to will her tears back.

"Well, uh," she cleared her throat. "If you need anything you know where to find me."

Dean nodded, going back to what he was doing.

Later That Night

Dean was shocked at how many locks Tawny had on her door. He was glad she was moderately safe, but, damn, eight locks? She'd only had three when he was here a year and a half ago. Dean paused when lock number six gave a loud screech, glancing up and down the dark hallway to make sure Sam nor Bobby heard it. He listened closely for any sound signaling someone noticing the noise, but all he heard was the drone of the TV downstairs and snores coming from the room across the hall where Sam was spread out on a sofa bed.

When he deemed it safe he continued, grinning mischievously when the bolt finally gave with a small snap. "Ha," he breathed quietly. "Gotcha, ya little bastard." The last two gave easily, the bolts sliding away smoothly and quietly, with no fight whatsoever.

Dean grasped the knob, slowly turning it, wincing at a squeak that never came. As soon as there was a crack large enough for him to squeeze through, Dean ducked into the room shoulder first, closing the door quietly and slowly behind him. He stood there for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the light. When they finally did, he glanced around the room, seeing that it was arranged exactly the same as when he left. It was just as messy, too.

His eyes bounced from dresser to desk to night table before finally resting on the bed, where Tawny was buried under a mound of blankets. Dean couldn't help but chuckle, remembering how she used to crank down motel room air conditioners while on hunts, claiming she could always pile on more blankets, but she could only take so much off. A pair of large glowing eyes was watching him from the foot of the bed, and Dean panicked for a moment before he realized that it was a cat.

He took a step forward, pulling back his lips in a grimace when a floorboard creaked. The cat jumped, vaulting off the bed to go cower under the desk, while Tawny only sighed in her sleep and rolled over onto her back. Dean breathed a sigh, slowly inching forward, grateful when the floor was silent, and he made it to the edge of the bed without any more interruptions. He stood for a moment, just looking at the woman sprawled out in front of him. He was amazed at how much she'd grown. He remembered her through childhood, first with pigtails and Oshkosh overalls, her cheeks chubby and adorned with freckles, then as an awkward tween, her hips skinny in too-big pairs of jeans and pulling at an uncomfortable training bra when she thought Dean and Sam weren't looking.

But now, now she was a woman, an honest-to-God, fully matured woman. And Dean couldn't help but hate the bastard that would one day steal her heart. For now, though, he could pretend she was his.

Dean was drawn from his stupor when Tawny groaned in her sleep, her arms stretching above her head as she arched her back. She slowly turned her body, her eyes fluttering open a fraction of an inch. Apparently that was enough to see the dark figure looming over her bed because the next thing Dean knew, a sharp pain shot through his groin as her foot connected with it.

He bowed forward, holding his damaged goods and wheezing. Tawny scrambled over to the edge of the bed, turning on a lamp. Dean closed his eyes against the harsh light, groaning slightly. "Dean?" Tawny asked, rubbing her eyes. Dean only groaned again, nodding.

"What the hell are you doing?" she asked quietly, and somehow Dean knew she was glancing at the door worriedly. Then, with an edge to her voice, she demanded "And how did you get past the locks?"

Dean finally glanced up at her, his eyes still misty from the pain. She looked angry, yet almost angelic at the same time. Her hair was a complete mess; curls stuck up at odd angles, some were wound together, and it was parted deeply to one side. Her eyelids were drooping, showing just how tired she was, her cheeks were lightly flushed, and her lips were red and swollen. He groaned again, feeling a noticeable twitch beneath his hand through the pain.

Tawny stared at him incredulously for at least thirty seconds before heaving an exasperated sigh and throwing the covers back. She rolled her eyes, swinging her bare legs out of the bed to stand. Dean straightened as much as he could, grabbing Tawny's upper arm as she tried to pass him. She looked up at him, her brown eyes large and shining.

"Ice?" she said simply, pointing towards the door. Dean shook his head, only managing one word. "Bed," he said quietly, tipping his head towards it. Tawny watched him for a moment, and Dean thought her eyebrows would knit in concern, but Tawny only shrugged.

"They're your balls, not mine," she said matter-of-factly, turning around and climbing back into the bed. She almost seemed surprised when Dean climbed in next to her, clenching his eyes shut and letting out a hissed breath when his legs closed a bit too tightly for comfort. The bed jostled and he felt Tawny slide down next to him. He looked at her when she put a hand on his thigh.

"You okay, Dino?" she asked, that concern he thought he'd see a minute ago finally adorning her soft features. Dean nodded, reaching up to brush a curl from her forehead. "Yeah," he answered quietly, his finger drifting slowly down her soft cheek. A faint smile appeared on her full lips, parting them in a way that made Dean's breathing hitch in his chest. They stared at each other for the longest time, they're eyes flicking back and forth, chocolate brown battling bottle green, almost as if they were trying to find one another's souls.

Dean was the first to look away, afraid that Tawny could see right through him, could see his weakness for her, and he didn't think there was anything worse on this planet than showing weakness, whether it be physical or emotional. So he turned his attention to the lamp instead, turning the small knob until it clicked, once, twice, then off, bathing them in darkness.

Relying on touch, Dean reached out blindly, finding the edge of the sheet and pulling it over him. He felt Tawny shift again, burying herself back into the blankets while simultaneously scooting closer to Dean. He extended his arm, letting Tawny rest her head in the crook of his neck. "'Night," she mumbled, yawning widely before sighing. Dean mimicked the sigh before breathing his own "Goodnight" into her hair. Yeap, he thought, closing his eyes, I'm in trouble…