Okay. So I don't know if I mentioned, but I don't even have a beta for this story, so i'm sorry if there's a few kinks that I haven's worked out- like if it's got a choppy story line or if there are grammar errors or whatever. And this is my first fic, so I'm feeling like a bit of a fish out of water right now... Anyway, I hope this is cool.

P.S- thanks to everyone who reviewed, and especially ArtistKurai for all the help- I really really love reviews and follows, cause its really amazing to know someone saw what you did and liked it enough to spend time reviewing/ following. So thank you! I hope you like this next chapter.

Chapter Fourrrrr

Later, that night, both boys sat on the couch in front of the television eating a microwave dinner and watching some nonsensical show about one thing or another. Dean wasn't really paying attention anyway.

Sam looked at his brother and smiled. He was happy, which was rare these days. Dean, he knew, was in his last year of high school, and it was a bit depressing to know that the end of his even sort of normal life was going to end forever. He had several months to enjoy himself, then hunting. Until he died. Sam shivered, he could never do that. He wanted to keep on with school, through college. He knew his dad would never afford for him to go, so he'd just have to pay for it on his own. Or apply for a scholarship. He frowned at the prospect of leaving Dean with John for years while he was away. Dean admired John. He put his father's life before his own. He wore the same clothes, listened to the same music, talked the same way. He was loyal to a fault. If it ever came to it, Sam knew, Dean would die before seeing anything lay a finger on John.

Contrary to popular belief, Sam didn't just hate John. He loved him more than anybody in the world, second only to Dean. He was the only father Sam would ever have. He did however, get angry at John. Not for forcing Sam and Dean into this lifestyle, this hell if an existence, but because of how John treated Dean. Like a soldier, not a son. It killed Sam to see Dean angry and upset at himself because he felt he was never good enough, John never told him he was, so he wasn't. It was simple logic, right? No. Dean was amazing, awesome. A brilliant strategist, a leader, willing to sacrifice himself for the safety of other people. A fighter, a warrior. He was strong, smart, loyal, kind, and brave.. There was nothing Sam could say, could do, to convince him of these things. So he let Dean protect him, because he knew it made Dean feel like he was worth something, like he was useful, because he could be a big brother. Without it, Dean was nothing but a soldier. He was broken.

Sam hoped that whoever had captured Dean's heart was careful with it. He hoped they knew how precious it was. And he hoped they knew who'd be there to catch Dean when he fell and kill whoever hurt him.

-666-

Dean looked at his little brother, sitting on the couch beside him, his dinner cooling and forgotten. He saw the expression on his brother's face; how his eyebrows were pinched together and he was biting his lip, something he usually did when he was nervous or thinking about something. Dean wasn't sure what it was, but he just hoped that his brother was okay. He hadn't even asked how Sam's day was, something he usually didn't even wait until they were in the car to do.

"Hey," Dean said, wincing, "How was your day today?"

"Good," Said Sam, distractedly, "I gotta go- I'm working on a project and I'm supposed to do some reading."

"Oh, okay." Said Dean, disappointed. His brother usually told him everything about his day to the point where it was almost annoying. But not quite.

"Alright. 'Night, Dean." Sam said, getting up to go read in his room.

"'Night Sammy."

"Night."

-666-

Dean had been quiet all morning- suspiciously so. Sam was wondering if his brother was okay when he hear Dean snort.

"What?" Sam asked

"Uh, um, nothing, I, uh, nothing." Dean said, shoving his phone into his pocket.

"Whatever." Sam rolled his eyes at his big brother.

"Okay… any kind of study group I need to know about?"

"No." Sam hesitated, "Can I go over to Jimmy Fiddler's house after school?"

"Sorry buddy, but unless you ran all the tests…"

"Fine." Sam rolled his eyes, he should have known anyway. "So, uh, what's going on with you and…"

"Hope?" Sam thought he might have imagined it, but he thought his brother's voice was an octave higher when he said her name. Dean cleared his throat, "I have no idea, man. I don't know if I want it to end up being anything, because we're here for a year… I mean, that's enough time for me to actually… you know, care about her. But then we gotta leave."

"Yeah." Sam looked at his brother, "But is she worth it?"

"I… I don't know."

Sam wasn't used to seeing his older brother unsure of anything. It unnerved him a little.

"Okay, we should go," Dean said, "Don't want you late for class."

-666-

Hope was walking through the hall when her phone dinged, alerting her that she had a text message. She looked down at it.

Hey, have a nice day. Meet you at lunch? The track field?

-Dean :)

She replied,

Yeah. See you then. And then, How'd you get my number, anyway?

-Hope

He didn't reply except for,

;)

She shook her head, grinning like an idiot.

"Hey."

Hope looked up. It was Tessa. "Hi."

Tessa smiled, "So who's the lucky guy?" She asked, giggling

"Huh?" Hope looked up

Tessa grabbed Hope's phone, and after taking one look at the lock screen, she giggled again, handing Hope's phone back to her, skipping down the hallway, her bond ponytail bouncing behind her.

Hope rolled her eyes, but snorted when she looked down at her phone, it was a picture of Dean, with his whole upper body hanging out of the window, one arm in the air, his other hand on the steering wheel. It looked like they were driving at full speed, too. She shook her head, thinking that Dean was going to end up seriously hurting himself. The text read: Dean says good morning :) -Sam

Getting a few stares from the group of skaters across the hall from her, she glared, "What are you lookin' at, huh?"

They scampered away, talking among themselves, once in a while sparing a look in Hope's direction.

"Hmmm." Hope whipped her head around to find three pastel-clad figures behind her.

"Hi." she said, recognizing them immediately as the three girls who had made fun of Tessa the day before.

"You know," Said Brooke, talking to the other girls like Hope wasn't there, "She's rather pretty, and maybe she'd almost be acceptable if she dressed better."

"I think her hair, too…"

"Yeah, and her makeup.." The girls surrounded her, laughing

"Oh, who are we kidding? She'll never be acceptable." Brooke sneered, "Just… Like… Her… Dad."

"No, no!" Said Hope, raising her voice, "You don't get to talk about him like that! You didn't know him!" She bit her lip, "You say another word…"

"And you'll what?" Brooke smirked, "Get your dirty Converse all over my new dress? You gonna give me some awful disease just by touching me? You might as well live in the streets. I've heard-"

"Shut up and leave her alone." Came a low voice from behind Brooke. Hope couldn't recognize the voice immediately, but she felt someone grab her arm and pull her away. She didn't care.

"Hey." She looked up into a pair of concerned green eyes, "Hey, are you okay?"

"Yeah." She said, biting her lip, "I'm fine."

"Really?" Dean said, raising his eyebrows, "Because the wound in your lip begs to differ."

Hope ran her tongue across her sore lip, "I'm okay, Dean." She said, her gaze unwavering.

"Okay. Alright, I believe you."

"Good."

He wrapped his arm around her shoulders, "You know you can talk to me, right? About anything, anything at all."

She looked at him with wide eyes, "You really are concerned, aren't you?"

"Why wouldn't I be?"

"Because nobody ever is." She said this with such conviction that he just shook his head, dumbfounded

"No." She looked away, but he grabbed her chin and gently turned her had forward so she had no choice but to look him in the eyes, "I am, okay?"

She clenched her jaw and nodded, "Okay."

Dean looked up and saw Tessa elbowing her way through the crowd toward them. "I'll go now, your friend's here."

"Hey."

"Yeah?"

"How'd you get my number?"

"Um, Tessa. Your friend."

"Dean Winchester, were you following me yesterday?"

"No. I was… observing?" He rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably

She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes, "Get to class."

"Okay."

"Okay."

"I'll see you at lunch?"

"Okay."

"I'll come get you."

"Okay."

"I'll see you then."

"Yeah. Yeah you will."

-666-

Dean had a hard time focusing on precalc. Instead, his mind wandered to Hope, and what had happened in the hallway that morning. They'd said something that had really bothered her. Something about her dad.

You'll never be acceptable. Just. Like. Your. Dad. You might as well live on the streets.

He winced, shaking his head. He took out his phone. There were several texts. One was from Hope:

Can't make it to lunch today. Sorry.

-Hope

He replied,

It's okay. You need a ride home today? Sammy's going with a friend.

-Dean ;)

His phone chimed a few seconds later:

Yeah. Thanks. A ride home sounds great. Thanks, Dean.

-Hope

He sighed, wishing she'd tell him what was up, but he knew it wouldn't do much good. He knew the face- he did it himself every time he didn't want to think about something, he just shoved it down deep inside himself so he didn't have to see it. It wasn't like he had a choice- if John thought he was weak… Dean shivered.

He was concerned for her… But the look in her eyes… like she didn't believe him. He shook his head, how could she not? Nobody had ever told her before…? Even Dean had Sam, who he knew he could talk to, who he knew would listen, would care.. It kept him from going nuts. But she didn't have anyone like that. And why did that bother him so damn much? He sighed, running a hand through his already messy hair, blowing out a frustrated breath.

What's wrong with me? He asked himself, walking down the hall, I don't like this feeling at all.

-666-

Hope was having a hard time focusing. She thought about Dean's face as she twirled her pencil around in her hand. She was doodling- well, she was supposed to be taking notes, but she was too busy thinking about Dean. She looked at her sketch. It looked like him. The hair, the mouth, the ears. And his eyes. She was drawing his face when he'd made her look him in the eyes, when he'd told her that he cared.

Hope sighed, closing her notebook. She had art next period, and she was supposed to turn in a portrait sketch. This would have to do. SHe laid her head down on her arms and waited for the bell to ring.

-666-

Dean saw Hope before she saw him- he was headed to room 206 for art class… evidently where she was headed, too. He smiled. Maybe today would be okay.

"Hi."

Hope spun around, looking at Dean. "Hey."

"Look, about today…"

"No. Stop. It's okay. I'm okay. It doesn't matter."

"Right. Okay."

"Dean?"

"Yeah?" He looked up at her

"Do you wanna hang out sometime? Maybe today, after school…?"

It took him a few minutes to respond, but then he smiled, "Yeah. Sure."

They sat down in the back of the classroom together.

"So, what did you do for your portrait sketch?" He asked after awhile.

Oh fuck. Shit shit shit. Hope blushed crimson and coughed, "I-uh, I um. I-it's not very good?"

Dean chuckled a little bit, "Okay, but who did you decide to draw?"

"Who did you decide to draw?" she said

"...My mom." he said quietly, so she almost didn't hear it. She saw the sadness in his eyes, and she found herself regretting asking the question and wondering why he was so sad. She put her hand on his arm and opened her mouth to say something to him when a loud voice filled the classroom:

"Hello, everybody! Please take out your portrait sketches!" Their art teacher was a balding man, in his thirties, who wore an ensemble of skinny jeans and concert shirts to class every day. Hope liked him. She took out her folder, pulling her portrait out. SHe bit her lip, hoping Dean wouldn't see it.

"W-wha- that's me!" He looked at the sketch, grinning, and then at Hope with wide eyes. "Wow… wow, that's me!"

"It is."

"It's really good." He shook his head, "No, no, it's better than good, that's amazing!"

She smiled, "I don't think so. Not at all." She looked from the drawing to him, and back, "But it's what you look like to me."

He looked at her and smiled, "Wanna see mine?"

"Sure,"

He pulled out a slightly crinkled 8½ x 11 piece of paper with a woman's face on it. SHe had Dean's eyes. And his smile. "She's beautiful."

"Yeah." He said, his voice cracking, "She was amazing."

"You look like her, Dean."

He looked up at her, "Thanks."

"Attention to the front of the room!" they heard a yell, "Pass your work up to the front of the room!"

Hope sighed, doing so. It was going to be a long day.

-666-

Hope was walking out of the building later that day, walking toward Dean's car, when it happened. She didn't see it coming, but she felt it, the fist against her jaw, the crack! that echoed through her skull. She dropped like a rock to the ground.

"Haha." Kevin. "Not so tough now, are you?"

She Got up and brushed herself off. A crowd had started to gather. They knew her well. The girl who always won. "You look like shit." She said with a smirk, "Who on earth did that to you? Oh, yeah, it was me."

Kevin had a broken-looking nose and a black eye. He had greenish-looking bruises on his arms and face, too.

"I told you to watch your back." He sneered, "Now you gotta punch in the face."

Hope's eyes darkened, and the crowd took a step back. "oh yeah, because hitting a person when their back's turned- that's totally not a sign of cowardice." She dropped into a loose fighting stance like it was second nature. "But you're gonna get your ass handed to you, douchewad."

She lunged at him, punching him in the face and then kicking his undefended stomach. She kneed him in the face when he doubled over in pain.

"I just wish you would give up." She sighed, "But next time you come near me, you're gonna end up in a hospital, I promise you." She grabbed her bag and walked off, the crowd dispersing slowly. She walked down the hallway toward the exit and toward Dean.

-666-

Dean was leaning against the driver's-side door of the Impala, waiting for Hope. Bobby had allowed Sam to sleep over his friend's house with very clear orders to call him if anything seemed off. Dean sighed, he loved Sam and he was glad his little brother could finally be happy. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. He could see the brightness of the sun through his eyelids and he could feel the heat coming off the Impla through his shirt. He smiled again.

Suddenly, he shot up, hearing a loud bang. A couple freshmen were howling with laughter. One of them had emptied a water bottle, put the cap on, and stomped on it so it exploded. Dean rolled his eyes.

He looked at his watch. Hope should have been here. He'd just decided to wait five minutes before looking for her when she walked out of the building toward him, her leather jacket on over a hoodie, with the hood up.

She got to the car and looked at him, "Come on. Let's just go."

He looked at her, taking her hood off gently and looking at the bruise on her jaw, "What happened? Who did this to you?"

She chuckled, "You should see the other guy."

"Kevin. It was kevin, wasn't it?"

"Maybe?"

"I'm gonna rip his LUNGS out!" Dean yelled, suddenly pissed off.

"Woah, woah, cool it Tiger. Christ. I'm okay. Really."

Dean just glared at the ground, clenching his fists.

"You wanna go grab some burgers? Maybe… Pie…?"

He looked up, his face changed, but his eyes still clouded with anger, "Pie?" he asked hopefully

"Okay. Pie. Then we can talk. Over pie." Hope grinned and hopped in the car beside him.

"Music?"

"Whattaya have?"

He smiled, "There's a box of cassette tapes in the glove compartment-" he paled visibly, remembering the fake id's and the .45 he kept there too, "Uh, wait. Close your eyes."

"...Okay…"

He reached in and grabbed the box, slamming the glove compartment before she could open her eyes. "Here." He said proudly, "My collection."

Hope looked at the cassette tapes in the box carefully. "Motorhead, Kansas, Metallica, Foreigner… Man, kudos on having amazing taste in music."

Dean grinned. "Thanks."

She popped a Metallica tape in.

"A spectacular choice."

"When is it not?" She replied, grinning at him sideways

"Never." He replied

"So, uh, you gonna tell me where we're going? Or do I have to guess?"

"It's a surprise."

"Fine." She huffed, blowing her bangs out of her eyes.

He grinned and stepped on the gas.

-666-

"The Roadhouse?" Hope said, "You've been here how long and you've already been here?"

"Well, I just started living here last week," Dean said uncomfortably, "But we're staying with my uncle… We visit often, so I've been here a few times. This place…"

"...Is possibly the best thing to grace this goddamn hellhole of a town." She said as she shut the door

"So you don't like it here? Souix Falls?"

"No. Well, I mean, it's not really a hellhole. Actually a rather nice place. But there's just too many… Bad vibes, you know? Just memories. Ghosts."

He looked at Hope, who had found a sudden interest in her converse sneakers. She looked up at him and he felt compelled to change the subject- he recognized her face- her jaw was clenched and she wasn't blinking. It was what he did when he was trying not to show any emotion.

"Um, so, uh…" He tried, not quite sure what to say, scratching his head and opening the door for her.

"Can I get you a table?" Asked a perky blond waitress, staring at Dean and batting her eyelashes. He didn't notice, though- all his attention was focused on Hope. The blonde girl huffed and turned to Hope.

"Yes please." She croaked, and then cleared her throat. She took a deep breath and straightened her back.

Dean frowned at the lack of emotion on her face. She turned to him, looking him in the eyes.

"Alright. Right this way." The now slightly less-perky waitress said.

Dean and Hope followed her to a corner booth. Dean grinned.

"So." He sat down, "Food?"

"Yeah." She gave the waitress, "The usual, thanks."

"I'll have.. Whatever she's gettin'." Dean said distractedly, looking at his phone. He shook his head and grinned at Hope, looking up and meeting her eyes, "I'm trusting you with this."

She bit her lip, "... There's something you should know, then…"

"What?" He said, looking a little bit nervous

"I'm a vegan…"

"You're kidding."

She cracked up, "Yeah, yeah, I'm kidding. It's a bacon cheeseburger with fries and a coke."

"Good." He shook his head, "You had me scared for a minute there…"

She smiled and opened her mouth to say something, but she was interrupted by an icy voice, "I have your drinks."

Dean looked up at the blond waitress as if he was noticing her for the first time. She turned to him and smiled. He grinned back. Hope frowned, shaking her head, she shouldn't care. Because Dean was her friend. And he probably had a girlfriend. And it wasn't her.

She looked at the girl serving them. She looked like the kind of girl Dean would notice. Long, blond hair, a short skirt, and way too much makeup. Hope gave herself a once over: Ripped black skinny jeans and a slightly baggy Green Day shirt with her worn leather jacket. And god, her shoes. The girl in front of them was wearing black shiny heels, at least three inches tall, whereas Hope was wearing beat up converse that had been scribbled all over with band names and quotes, like her backpack.

"I gotta go to the bathroom. I'll be right back." She said quietly. Dean looked away from the blond waitress with concern.

"You okay?"

"Peachy." She rolled her eyes.

-666-

Dean looked after Hope as she walked away, frowning.

"Don't worry about her, sweetheart," the waitress purred

Normally, Dean would have taken this as an invitation, but for some reason, the nameless blonde in front of him suddenly didn't seem so appealing. "Where's the bathrooms?" He asked her.

"Third door on the left. Second if you're looking for your girlfriend." The girl scowled.

"Thanks." He smiled, walking to the bathrooms. He caught her walking outside through a back exit, and followed her into the cool afternoon air.

-666-

Hope tugged her jacket tighter around herself and pulled out a cigarette.

"You know those things'll kill you." Said a smooth voice behind her. She whipped around, the unlit cigarette hanging out of her mouth, staring at Dean.

"Jesus."

"No. I'm Dean." He said, "But I've been told that the likeness is quite disconcerting."

Hope rolled her eyes, "Don't go sneaking up on me, Dean."

"Okay." He said softly.

Hope shivered. dean walked closer, saying, "Let's go inside. Our food will be here any minute." He grinned, pulling the cigarette out of her mouth and taking the pack from her hand. "Come on." He slipped the cigarette back into the pack and tucked it into her pocket.

"Alright. Since you asked so nicely." She smiled when he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, and they made it back inside.

-666-

Dean slurped his drink loudly. "So."

She grinned, slurping hers too, "So."

"Okay. How about we make a deal?"

"I'm listening," She grinned

"I ask you ten questions. You have to answer them all. No exceptions." He grinned, "At all. And then, you can ask me ten. Whatever you want."

"No."

"What?" He said, taken aback a bit

"I said no, Dean Winchester."

"How about we have a safe word."

"What?"

"Yeah." He laughed, "You know, when you're -"

"DEAN! I know what a safe word is! Jesus."

He chuckled, "So, basically like that. Whenever there's question you don't like or don't want to answer, you just use it." He tapped his chin, leaning back in his chair, "Now, What should it be?" He looked at the ceiling and then sat up suddenly.

Hope looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

Dean met her eyes, "Dingleberries."

"Excuse me?"

"Dingleberries. That's our safe word."

"Okay." She laughed, "Dingleberries. Got it."

"Okay. First question."

"Shoot."

"What… Is you favorite color?"

"Um, Black, because it doesn't stain, doesn't clash, and matches with everything. Not to mention that it's badass."

"Okay." He laughed, "Favorite movie?"

"Um… Heroes? No, It's A Wonderful Life, maybe? I'm not sure, I really like a lot of movies."

"Fair." He grinned , "Book?"

"Um… A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens. 'Fot it was the best of times, it was the worst of times...'"

"The perfect paradox." He grinned, "I love that book. Okay. Question number four. Favorite band, solo artist, or musical group?"

"No way." She sighed, "Okay, can I just list them?"

"Yeah." He grinned

"Well, Green Day, obviously," She gestured to her shirt, "Um, Pearl Jam, Blue Oyster Cult, Kansas, ACDC, Metallica, Boston, Asia, Def Leppard, Motorhead, Styx, and Bon Jovi, on occasion. The Beatles..." She frowned, "I can dig Elvis."

Dean grinned, "Wow." He ran a hand through his hair. "Okay. Numero Five-o. How many siblings do you have?"

"None." She said tightly.

"Are you okay?" He said, concerned.

"Dingleberries."

"Right." He looked down.

"... What do you want to do when you grow up?"

"I don't… I have no idea."

"Favorite actor?"

"James Dean." She said far too quickly. She blushed crimson when Dean grinned and waggled his eyebrows at her. "Oh shut up, Dean."

"... Okayyyyy." He snorted, "Nine, because the dingleberries one counted. Um, do you like to travel?"

"I'm withholding judgement until I'm more experienced, but, yes, I'd certainly like to." She smiled, "See the world, I mean."

He grinned, "Last one."

"Okay."

"Where did you learn to draw?" She looked startled, and then remembered art class earlier, "I mean, that picture of me was just…" He chuckled, "How did you get that good?"

"I… I never really learned… I mean, it's kind of like I always had it?" She looked at him, and then realized she sounded a bit big-headed, "Sorry- not, I mean-" She sighed, "Like I never didn't know how." She shook her head, "I've been drawing since before I can remember. At first, it was just because I loved to do it, and it didn't matter what I was drawing, it all just came. Then I used it to get rid of all my feelings. That's where I would put them. In my art. If I was angry, or sad, or hurting, I would draw. Art was my coping mechanism. I guess it still is." She sniffed and rubbed her nose.

Dean frowned and scooted around the booth, wrapping his arm around her shoulders. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Hope interrupted, "Dingleberries, Mr. Winchester. I have no idea what you are about to say, but I know I won't like it. So let's drop it."

"But-"

"I said drop it." She looked him in the eyes. He sighed, knowing he wasn't going to win.

"Fine." He rubbed his eyes, "Let's go."

"Don't we have to pay?"

"Nah." He smiled, "Ellen knows me. She'll just put it on my tab."

"Okay."

Dean got up and helped Hope out. They walked out of The Roadhouse together, and Dean didn't take his hand out of Hope's until they got to the car. "Damn. Dean, I just can't get over your car." Hope ran her hands over the hood, "She's so beautiful."

"Yeah."

They hopped into the car together. "Now, Let's not go home yet- I've got plans." He grinned evilly. Hope rolled her eyes, turning the radio on. She sighed and leaned back in her seat, dangling one arm out the open window, "I love this song."

It was Boston's More Than A Feeling. Dean smiled, looking over at Hope. Her eyes were closed, and she was mouthing the words. She looked different, he decided. Younger. Her face was more relaxed, and there was almost no tension in her shoulders.

"You should really keep your eyes on the road, Dean." She said without opening her eyes.

He flushed a little and looked forward.

She giggled.

"Whatever." He said, turning the radio up louder, grinning at her. They drove for almost an hour, listening to the radio and getting lost in the music together.

-666-

It was about six o'clock when they pulled into the middle of a meadow.

"Dean?"

He smiled at her. "Come on. Don't tell me the you've lived here your whole life and never came here."

"Never."

"Then I guess that'll make this all the more fun." He smiled, come on. Get on the roof."

"Okay…"

Dean hopped out of the car and jumped onto the hood, scooching his way up to the roof and gesturing for her to do the same, patting the space next to him.

"So, What are we doing?" She asked, looking at him.

"Just lay down and stop talking."

They both laid back on the roof, staring at the sky. they laid there for a few minutes, not moving at all, until the sky changed color, slowly, so it was almost unnoticeable. From a light blue to a pinkish purple, then to a fiery reddish color. They lay there together, their shoulders touching, watching the sunset from the roof of the Impala.

"Wow."

"This isn't even the best part." Dean said.

The sky was soon full of stars. Twinkling, glittering, and shining. They were beautiful. And there were so many.

"This is amazing." Hope said, staring up.

"Yeah." Said Dean, "It's so much nicer far away from town."

"How often do you, you know, come out here?"

"Every time we come up."

"So, kind of often?"

"Maybe once every six months or so."

She whistled, "Actually I'm surprised I haven't seen you before." She propped herself on one of her elbows and looked at him

"I'm not."

"What?"

"Usually, when we come, we don't really stay in town, we stay at my uncle's house." Dean hesitated, "Well, he's not really my uncle. More like a really close family friend. But he's closer than family."

"Yeah." She laid back down, "I know what you mean."

He looked over at Hope, whose face was turned up to the sky, her eyes closed. She swallowed hard and turned her face away from him. He was about to ask what was wrong when she stretched and yawned.

"We should get going." Dean said, "It's almost ten."

"Really? We've been here four hours?"

"Yeah."

"Okay."

"Look, Hope- If you ever need anyone to talk to, you know-"

"Thanks." She looked at him, "But I'm okay. I promise."

"Alright."

They got in the car and drove home, Hope falling asleep with her head against the window. It was raining a little bit when he pulled up to the street that he's brought her home to yesterday after school when he gently shook her awake.

"Come on. We're here."

"Cool." She smiled, "Thanks for today, Dean. I really had fun."

They got out of the car and were standing out of the rain, under a dangerously crumbling balcony. "So."

"So."

"So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Dean."

"And I'll see you."

"If you're lucky."

Dean smiled and bit his lip, stepping forward towards Hope, leaning in, closer, closer…

Hope realized what he was doing and looked down, ducking out of the way. "Alright, then. I should get going."

Dean cleared his throat and backed off, feeling awkward. "Okay."

"See you."

"Bye."

"Goodnight, Dean." Hope said, a little sadly, walking away and leaving Dean standing in the pouring rain.

A/N: So. A bit of a cliffhanger there. I hope it wasn't too bad, and I'll try to update soon, but I've been really busy lately, looking into high schools and whatnot. :/ So... I hope you liked it, and I will try my best to update soon. Reviews are really very appriciated- some criticism is great! Okie, bye for now...