Recruitment Pt. 8

You woke again later that morning, Dean's strong arms wrapped around you. You looked up into his face. He was gazing down at you lazily through his eyelashes. You realized he'd probably been watching you sleep for a little while.

"Morning." You smiled, a little shyly for some reason, and buried your face in his neck.

"Morning, Killer." He smiled, nuzzling his face down next to yours, his lips finding your lips. You smiled at his morning kisses. His hands wound themselves up into your hair, and he pulled you against him, kissing you harshly in the cold light of the morning.

You came up for air a few minutes later. He'd pulled you up on top of him, and you propped yourself up on his chest. "So about last night..." You began.

"Last night was friggin' awesome." Dean smiled, pushing a strand of hair out of your eyes. "I've been waiting weeks to do that."

"Really?" You raised an eyebrow at him.

"Really." He nodded. "That's all I've been doing the last three weeks. Trying to keep myself from killing people, and thinking about taking you to bed."

You gave him a strange look, but were nonetheless amused at his phrasing. "That's not exactly the most romantic thing I've ever heard."

A devilish grin spread across his face. "Babe, if it's romance you want, I've got that in spades." He smoothly flipped you over so that you were on your back and he was now on top of you. He bent and kissed the side of your neck, his stubble tickling you and sending shivers up your spine.

"Do we even have time for romance?" You asked him, smiling up at the ceiling and grasping the back of his neck with your left hand. His hands were sliding down the sides of your body, doing magical things.

He stopped kissing you, and looked you straight in the eye. "All business this morning, aren't we?" He winked. "We lost Crowley again. Sam and Cas are working on something. Wouldn't tell me what. Sam texted earlier. They suggested I get some R&R." He bent once again, blowing softly on the sensitive spot between your shoulder and your neck. "And that's what I intend to do... are you in?"

You moaned softly. "What did you have in mind?"

You felt him smile as his whiskers tickled your shoulder. "A little of this, a little of that. A few days up in a cabin, away from it all, couldn't do either of us any harm." He pulled away and looked deep into your eyes. "If you'll have me. I know I haven't been the best partner. If I haven't been trying to kill everything in sight, I've been being a huge douche."

You reached up, trailed your fingers down along the side of his face, his neck, down his chest, over his tattoo, down farther... you bit your lip. The last few weeks had all been leading to this, you knew. You had known all along. You took a deep breath and nodded. "Of course." You grinned at him. "I'm in. You know I am. You've had you're un-douchey moments, too."

"Great." He pulled the sleeping bag up over both of your heads. "Let the romance begin!"

"What the hell are you doing?" You asked him, giggling, as he wrapped you both up snugly in your sleeping bag, pulling you closer and kissing you all up and down the side of your neck, arms, and down to your stomach.

"It's a romance cave." You could barely make out the goofy grin on his face as he poked his head up to look at you. "What, you've never heard of one of those before?"

"No!" You laughed, glad to have "good" Dean back, and not "homicidal maniac" Dean. "But I'll take your word for it, weirdo."

"Trust me, Princess." He splayed his hands out over your abdomen, running them lower and lower. "I know what I'm doing."

The next few days were amazing. There was no talk of Crowley, no talk of the Mark, no talk of hunting except to reminisce about old ones you'd been on and compare notes, or argue good naturedly about who was the bigger badass. Dean patched the leaky roof. You went on a supply run into town. All the two of you had to do was wait for word from Sam and Castiel, and enjoy one another's company. Your days were spent taking well deserved naps, making love over and over again until you were physically so exhausted you were unable to do so anymore, and drinking whiskey by the fireplace. You'd never met a man you were more drawn to, sexually or emotionally, as Dean Winchester. Even at his darkest.

You'd been at the cabin nearly a week. You were in the middle of a particularly robust sexual escapade when Dean's phone started ringing. He reached over and clicked it off, returning his attention and his lips to yours. No sooner had he done so, then it started ringing again. He looked at the phone, and turned it off again. Then a third time, it rang. "God damn it, Sammy." He sighed. He rolled off of you, pulling out, kissed you lightly across the lips, and picked up the phone. "This had better be good, man." he growled into the cell.

You heard snippets of conversation. "What? No. We were... I was, busy... Yeah. No, Sam, when I don't answer there's usually a reason... It was a very good reason... Whatever, man. What've you got? What? Now? You're on your way up? Yeah. I see. Okay. Hang on. I'll call you right back." He hung up the phone. You watched him climb off of the sofa bed, pull some jeans on, then his boots, and throw a jacket on over his bare chest. He turned to you. "I have to talk to Sam. I'm going outside for a few." You nodded. He left.

"He's just going to give the First Blade to you?" Dean asked his brother incredulously.

"Yes." Sam replied.

"How'd you swing that, Sammy?" Dean asked worriedly. He could hear traffic in the background of his brother's phone. Sam had gotten his cast off that morning, and was on his way up.

"Nothing bad, Dean. I used my upstairs brain. I called him and asked for it. To be honest, he's so tired of yours and Y/N's bullshit, he said he'd give me the blade so long as you don't get your hands on it. Actually, he's giving Cas the blade. But you need to come back so we can finish this."

Dean sat on the steps for a few minutes, silent. "This is gonna get ugly, isn't it, Sammy?"

"Probably, Dean." He heard Sam sigh. "With us, it usually does."

"I want Y/N out of it."

"What? I thought you two were getting on great? I thought she was an asset?"

"She is. And we are. That's why she's out." Dean ran a hand over the back of his neck. "Things are going to get a whole lot worse before they get better. She's not getting hurt over this."

"If that's what you want." Sam didn't sound convinced. "I can leave this car with her then, when I get there."

"How long til you're here?"

"I'll be there in the morning. Probably around nine."

Dean slunk in the door, and looked around. Y/N wasn't in the cabin. He looked around curiously. It was only one room, where could you have gone? He saw the back door standing open, and ventured out, down a small path into the woods. Twilight was setting in.

You could hear his footsteps on the path before you could see him. "Y/N?" You heard him call. You sat back against the tree, the whiskey bottle hanging precariously from your fingertips. "Y/N?" He called again.

"I'm over here, Dean." You replied gruffly. He stopped, turned, and approached you, coming around the large tree.

"What are you doing out here?" He asked, standing over you questioningly.

"You're leaving me behind?" Your voice was flat and you didn't look up at him, you looked out into the darkening trees.

"You heard my conversation."

"You're the observant one, aren't you?" You asked mockingly. "You weren't exactly quiet."

Dean sighed, and sunk down onto the ground beside you. He took the bottle from your hand and took a long drink. "Did you happen to wait around and listen to why I'm not taking you with me?" He turned to you, looking at you earnestly. You refused to look his way.

"No, but please, do tell." You huffed out. You were fuming. Sure, the two of you were hunters. The odds of a "happily ever after" weren't very good, but you hadn't expected Dean to love you and leave you in the middle of North Dakota at the drop of a hat. You turned to him. "I didn't expect much from you, Dean, but I expected more than a week of sex and then to be dropped on my ass in the middle of nowhere in fucking North Dakota. I thought I meant at least something to you."

"You do, Y/N. And that's why you can't come along for this last part." Dean was looking at the ground now. "You've been my only anchor the last few weeks. You have no idea the things that are running through my head right now, about you." He stopped and took another drink. "But I'm headed down a really dark road, and I'm not bringing you along. I'm not putting you through that. I'm not taking another person, and putting them in danger, because of my stupid mistake. Sam and Cas having to deal is bad enough. I refuse to throw you into the mix too. You were never part of the equation after I got the First Blade. And this happening, with you, this was definitely never part of the equation. Which is more reason to keep you out of it."

"You expect me to have come with you this far and walk away now?" You looked at him, eyes wide. How could he expect anyone to do that?

He looked at you long and hard. "No, but I'm asking you to. I'm asking you to let me go fight this battle, and fight it alone." He passed the bottle over to you, and took your hand that was resting on the ground between the two of you.

"Then what? I'll never even know what happens?"

He suddenly reached out to you, turning your face gently towards him. "If I get through this, if I get rid of this Mark, you will hear from me again. I will find you." He took a deep breath, one that rattled in his chest. "And if I don't... Sammy will find you. You'll know either way."

You nodded sadly at him. You knew he was protecting you, whether you wanted him to or not. He was once again shutting down, shutting you out. The two of you held hands and finished what was left in the bottle of whiskey, watching the sun sink below the treeline.

"All right, everything's packed. You ready to go, Dean?" Sam asked the next morning. He shut the trunk of the Impala and looked at his brother expectantly.

Dean ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah. Yeah, give me a minute, Sam, okay?" Sam nodded and got into the car. Dean pulled you back into the cabin.

You'd spent the last night together, like it were your last, because it possibly was. You had no idea what trials he was going to have to face to lose that Mark of Cain, and neither did he. You'd memorized every inch of him, committed it all to memory. And now daylight was upon you, and he was almost out of your grasp.

He closed the door behind you and turned to you. "Listen, Y/N. I just wanted to tell you... I don't know what's going to happen. I don't know if this will end well, or if I'll die, or if Demon Dean will come out again and Cas will have to kill me. I don't know. But... if this was all my last hurrah... it was one hell of a ride." He smiled sadly at you. "I'm glad you were with me. You're a hell of a hunting partner."

"You're not so bad yourself." You mustered up a wan grin. "You're terrible at karaoke, though."

He chuckled at that. He grabbed you and pulled you to him, pressing his lips to yours. Then he was gone, and you were left in the cabin, alone, with the keys to a vintage mustang, and the smell of Dean Winchester on your skin.

Six Months Later

You wiped off the counter top of the bar and shoved some more napkins into the holder. You'd gone on hiatus from hunting about two months ago, pulled into this sleepy little town in Iowa, and gotten a job as a bar-back at a Hunter's bar to pay the bills. Truth was, after the shenanigans with Dean and stalking the King of Hell, you'd kind of burned out on vengeful spirits and rugarus, and needed a break.

You hadn't heard from Dean or Sam since that last time you'd seen them at the cabin. You'd given up hope around the same time you'd taken the job at this shitty bar. You needed a rest. You needed to face the facts that Dean was probably dead. He probably hadn't been able to get rid of the Mark of Cain. The Demon had probably reared it's ugly head, and Castiel had most likely had to put him down. You pushed the thought out of your head as the bell sounded, alerting you that there was a customer coming in the doors.

You looked up and immediately your mouth fell open. This was a man you hadn't expected to see. He smiled very slightly and held up his hand in a slight wave. You just stared, wide eyed, not sure what to think. Your heart began to pound and you began to sweat. He approached, his long strides bringing him quickly to the bar. He slid onto a stool and folded his hands in front of him. "Hey, Y/N. Can I get a whiskey?"

"Hey, Sam. Coming right up."

to be continued in the last installment