Disclaimer-I don't, regrettably, own Supernatural or any of the characters in this story that happen to appear in said show. They belong to Eric Kripke and co…lucky bastard…

Chapter 4-Either Crazy…Or in Love

Dean tried her cell phone for the fifth time, and again she didn't answer. Closing his, he managed to sit still for a full ten seconds before drumming his fingers on the table and trying to plot out a next move.

The sound made Sam look up.

"Still no answer?" Dean shook his head.

"Something's up…she never turns her cell off. And it's always with her."

"Maybe she's just busy." Dean shook his head.

"Not until tomorrow." Sam could've hit him. Trust Dean to know her schedule.

"Maybe something came up."

"She said she'd call me…" Now Sam was just itching to start some kind of physical thing with Dean, if only to make him snap out of this. Whatever this was.

Another look at his brother, though, and Sam regretted thinking like that almost immediately. Maybe he was turning bitter. He remembered what it was like to have a connection with someone that ran deeper than attraction or sex.

He'd also be willing to bet that Dean didn't. Startlingly, Sam realized that this was most probably a first in the long list of things Dean had done. As he looked over at the older man, Sam resolved to keep whatever thoughts he had of Bela to himself. Dean seemed to come to a decision, standing up and reaching for the keys.

"You stay here. I'm going to drive back there and check this thing out." He was crazy. That was the only thing Sam could think of that would make Dean do this. Absolute craziness. Well, there was that four letter word that could beat out crazy any day.

He was either crazy, or just in love.

-

She didn't answer the door. That fact set Dean on edge right from the get go. But, because he'd noted it before he left, he didn't even have to pick the lock, just used the spare key hidden behind a couple of large flower pots.

"Bela? You home?" His voice echoed around the hallway. He wasn't liking this at all. She was here, he knew. The car was in the garage and the alarm hadn't been on.

Keeping an eye out for any signs of movement, Dean carefully made his way through the lounge and into the kitchen, stopping dead when he saw her slumped against the counter.

Quickly he rushed towards Bela, dropping to his knees next to her and checking for a pulse. The butterfly light throb against his fingers did little to ease his fear, though.

Brushing wayward locks of hair from her face, Dean found the slightly raised lump on her temple. There was a thin trickle of blood running down the side of her face, but from what he could tell she was just unconscious.

Shifting slightly, His arms encircled her and Dean picked her up, resting her head in the crook of his neck. Unwilling to try for the stairs, he instead settled for the sofa, laying back in the corner and settling Bela in his lap.

-

Bela swam through the fog clouding her senses. The first thing she realized was that she'd moved, and her back was against something warm.

Sensing her unease, Dean rested a hand on her knee, unwrapping it from her middle.

"I've got you, it's okay." She relaxed for a second, until she realized the fact he was here was bad. Very Bad.

"Dean, Hendriksen…"

"I don't care. Speaking of him, I'm guessing he's behind this."

"He's not human." This seemed to catch him off guard.

"What?"

"He's…He's a demon, or something. FBI's just his cover to find you and Sam."

"Sam…shit." Dean shifted and made as if to get up.

"Where is he?"

"Motel. About ten miles from here…we need to go." He grabbed her hand and pulled her up. The room spun in her vision uncomfortably, before he steadied her.

"What do you mean, we?" She said when she felt like she could speak without throwing up. He looked at her quizzically, eyebrows raised, hands dropping to his sides.

"Well I'm not gonna just leave you here. For Gods Sakes he's already come after you once."

"It'll be pretty obvious if I leave that you've been here."

"I don't care! If he already knows I've been here it doesn't make any difference"

"But…" He seemed to fight himself for a minute as she mounted another protest.

"No. I'm not letting you get hurt because of me." After his admission, he looked at the floor, and the silence was almost deafening.

Hesitantly, her hand crept up his arm, settling just before his elbow.

"Okay." She agreed quietly. And they left.