Authors Note: Looong chapter guys! No worries, still not the end! No worries! More fluff and action to come!
Dean
I slam down the note and run downstairs. I start breathing heavily and anxiously run my hand through my hair scraping at my scalp.
...
"Cas you gotta bring her out!" I yell in the angels face. "I don't care what you have to do, just pull her out!"
"Why is this so important to you? You loose people all the time..." He responds calmly his head tilted to one side.
"If she's down there for much longer she's gonna turn! Just pull her out damn it!" I yell avoiding the question.
"I will try Dean, but I know she will be held somewhere deep in hell. And if she is turning into a demon as you say, then she must face herself. I can only take her part of the way, she must do the rest."
"That'll be enough. She's strong she can do it," I say to re-assure Cas and myself.
He turns and with a rush of air he's gone. Sam and Bobby are upstairs in Cristinas room where I left them. I run a hand over my face and head upstairs.
"I just talked to Cas, he said he'll try pulling her out," I say once I'm in the room.
Bobby turns around his face blank like he doesn't know what to feel.
"Dean," He starts. "You should of thought that out before you just decided to bring her back to life."
"What is there to think about?! We can't just leave her in hell!" I spit.
"Well now you may just be bringin back a damn Demon..."
Sam
The room falls silent. I turn to look at Cristina, now lying limp on her bed where Dean layed her. Now he goes back over to her side and sits on the bed beside her.
"She's coming back," He says looking at her.
I understand what Bobby's saying. Maybe there's a reason why she died. Maybe she's supposed to stay dead. I can't feel like there's something un-natural about bringing her back. But then I look at her. Cristina. I don't know what the hell happened, but she just clicked with Dean and I. Like she was the third number to our lock combination. And now we're stuck without her. I mean, it could be just because eight days is about the longest a girl has ever been with us, between Deans one night stands and my un-lucky relationships. But...she's our age, a really good hunter, and clearly she's had a huge impact on Dean.
"He's right," I say to Bobby turning around. "We can't just leave her there."
"She needs to be here," Dean says quietly his eyes still on Cristina.
"Besides," I say turning to Bobby again. "She's a Winchester now."
...
Three hours later and Dean still sits on the bed. Expect now he has her hand in his and he's tracing his index finger over something on her palm. I walk downstairs where I find Bobby.
"We gotta problem," He says gravely.
"Which is?" I ask sarcastically.
"Which is, the seals are still movin, as always. We gotta do something or this is gonna do down badly."
I sigh. He was right. Six more broken seals and the apocalypse is upon us. Just then I hear a flapping and I swivel around on my heels.
"How'd it go Cas?" I ask.
Dean rushes downstairs having heard the talking.
"I tried my best. She was in a very deep part of hell. It was almost impossible to reach her," he states.
"But?" Questions Dean.
"But-" continues Cas, "I did reach her."
Dean lets out a sigh of relief and is about to head back upstairs when Castiel warns, "However. When I got her, she was not in a good state. I would not wish her pain on my worst enemy. I cannot tell you what she is experiencing, she is in a sort of...'Lock Down'. I pulled her up, but her mind is still in hell."
"What does that mean?" I ask.
"It is something similar to what you humans call a 'coma'. Except inside her mind, hell is still raging. It's impossible to know if she will awake and if she does, when."
The room is covered with silence. Dean sits down on the step.
"What do we do then?" He asks.
"You must have faith in her, hope. If she is strong as you say, she will come back."
Dean nods his head once and then goes back upstairs.
"Bobby, I don't know if Dean can deal with hunting while this stuff with Cristina's going on," I mention.
"I know, but we don't have a choice, we need him," says Bobby reluctantly.
...
"Dean, I know okay. I do. But we gotta turn our attention towards the world ending!" I try to reason.
"Sam, I'll be damned if she wakes up when we're gone and she's alone! And what if we don't come back? Then what?!" He yells.
"We'll leave a note before we leave in case that happens, okay?"
"Fine! Give me a minute would you?!" He shouts still pissed.
"Dean, this is the job. People die. You know what it's like to be a hunter. The only reason we have to keep living is to save those around us."
"Maybe for you," He murmurs.
"What's that supposed to mean?!"
"It means...It means I have another reason to live now okay?! And right now I don't have much of a reason!"
"What the hell are you talking about?!"
"I'm...I don't know Sam! Just when...when.."
"When what?" I ask.
My brothers face softens.
"When she's not here...I- I don't want to be, okay?!"
"You don't wanna be?" I ask eyebrows raised.
"I don't want to be here when she's not Sammy. I think sometimes...you don't realize, what you got...till...till it's gone."
We make eye contact but he quickly looks away from me.
"I...uh, I'll give you that minute now," I say quietly. I leave the room but hang by the doorway. Dean sits on the bed next to Cristina and whispers, "We'll be right back Cris. Don't go anywhere." He takes her hand and squeezes it once before getting up. Guilt anchors in me while I scramble downstairs before Dean could see me eavesdropping.
...
Everyday when we get back to Bobby's house Dean climbs upstairs to Cristina. He talks to her. Tells her what we did that day, whether we stopped a seal or not. He had Cas preserve her body so that she wouldn't decay while she's in her "coma". Once I heard strumming upstairs and found Dean attempting to play Cristinas guitar, but failing miserably. He drinks a lot, but keeps the room tidy, careful not to leave strewn bottles everywhere. There's a chair right by her bed, and every night he falls asleep in it, his head on the bed and his hand in hers. It pains Bobby and I to see him like this. Cas is mainly confused by his attitude towards Cristina.
Then comes May fourteenth, 2009. The day the apocalypse struck and Lucifer rose. When we surprisingly woke up on a plane it took Dean all of ten minutes to adjust to what had happened, realize we were headed away from Sioux Falls and call Bobby to check on Cristina. By this point it had been two weeks since she died. As soon as we landed Dean and I shagged ass back to Bobbys to tell him what had happened. We needed all hands on deck now.
As always, on return Dean went upstairs to check on Cristina, laying in the same spot, on the same bed, in the same house. This was past the point of unhealthy. That evening we all gathered in the kitchen for dinner. Bobby and I could tell that Dean was anxious to get back upstairs but he still had a seat with us.
"Dean," I start. "I think that it's time to let her go." I prepare myself for the yelling and rage about to come from my brother, but instead he just stares down at his beer.
"I know it's hard, trust me, I still miss Jess everyday. But this isn't right. We can't just keep her here, dead. Dean...she may not come back," I continue, pressing my luck.
"Just...give her a few more days," he says his voice gripped with misery.
Bobby and I exchange glances before Bobby says, "Three more days, then we salt and burn her and let her rest in peace."
Dean nods his head and downs his beer. He grabs a bottle of whiskey and heads back upstairs.
Dean
I wake up late afternoon to a familiar scenery. I sit up in my chair and look to my right where the un-opened bottle of whiskey I brought upstairs sits. I'm about to reach for it when something catches my eyes. Cristina's shirt is slightly lifted up her torso exposing an area of skin on her hip. The skin turns pink and then red slowly. Carefully I lift her shirt to reveal what looks like the top part of a hand imprinted on her upper-hip. Cas's hand print, similar to the one I had on my shoulder when I was pulled. But why was it showing up now? Could this be it? As if to answer my questions one of her fingers slowly twitches just like in the movies. I immediately grab her hand and squeeze it. She's waking up. She's waking up. She's waking up. She gives me the slightest squeeze back and my breathing quickens. I keep one of my hands in hers and let my other one run over her hair. I lean over her and press a kiss on her hairline then sit back down. After another five minutes or so of showing little signs of response her eyes slowly flicker open.
Once her eyes settle on mine her pupils dilate and she scrambles as fast as humanly possible away from me.
"NO! Not again! P-please. D-don't, d-d-don't, touch me," She stutters her voice cracking.
"Woah woah woah! Cristina, it's me. It's me! It's Dean!" I yelp.
"No-no you're not! No. NO! GET AWAY! No!" She screams shaking her head.
"Cristina, it's me, really," I whisper. She only shakes her head in response.
"I'm not going to hurt you, I would never hurt you," I continue whispering.
I cautiously move closer to her only causing her to cower into the headboard. At this point I hear the pounding of footsteps as Bobby and Sam race upstairs at the sound of the yelling.
"It's Dean," I say quietly.
"NO! You're not! HE wouldn't lie! He wouldn't hurt me! Get away!"
"I'm not going to hurt you. I swear. Cristina look at me."
She looks up at me her eyes bloodshot and filled with tears. I sit down next to her on the bed and put my hand on her cheek. She flinches away and closes her eyes.
"Just get it over with please," She says barley a whisper.
"Oh Cris, what did they do to you," I say before Sam and Bobby reach the room.
"Just do it quickly and get it over with!" She yells tears falling from her eyes.
"Dean, get away from her!" Shouts Sam. I take my hand away from her head as she cries, "Just do it, please!"
My chest shatters for her. Before I can say anything Sam grabs me and shoves me out of the room.
...
Three hours later Cas is in the room with her.
"I cannot erase her memories of hell," he says to us as she lays asleep again. "But, I can separate hell from life." He turns to me, "So, she will know that you are you. She will know she's not in hell anymore. She won't be afraid of her life. I can dull the pain, but I cannot erase it completely."
Distraught and tired the only words I can manage to say are, "Do it."
...
Another hour later I sit next to her as she sleeps. I look over to the whiskey again but then decide that I'd rather be sober for her second awakening. Just like the first time her eyes flutter open and it takes her a second to adjust. I take a deep breath.
Once her eyes settle on mine her pupils dilate and she slowly smiles. It's an exhausted, tired smile, but still her smile.
"Dean?" She asks.
I put my hand on her cheek like earlier. I'm surprised when she leans into the touch. Then she suddenly sits up and asks, "How did I get out? Dean! You didn't. Please tell me you didn't!"
"Don't worry Cris, I didn't sell my soul," I chuckle. "Cas pulled you out." She lets out a long sigh of relief and then grabs me into a hug. I don't even hesitate for a second before I hug her back.
"I'm so glad to see you," she whispers into my shoulder.
"You have no idea," I laugh. I pull away and we look at each other for a minute.
"Cris, what did I do to you, in Hell?" I ask suddenly.
She immediately stiffens and breaks eye contact.
"Hey, if you can't tell me, I get it," I reassure.
"I want to tell you..." She says. "But..."
"I understand. Sammy bugged me about it for long time before I finally opened up."
She nods her head in understanding.
"So," She sighs. "What did I miss?"
I spend the next hour or so filling her in on every single detail of the last two weeks. She comments here and there and shows signs of listening with the occasional,"Yea," or "mmhmm". Once I'm done we talk for a bit longer about Lilith and Sam and Bobby. Then, with a sigh she says, "I know this is going to sound ridiculous but I'm actually really tired. If you don't mind, could you tell Sam and Bobby that I'm alright?"
"Course. I'll let you get some shut eye," I say standing up and walking to the door frame.
"Goodnight," I say not turning around.
"Night," She calls back.
Human
I wake up with a scream, shooting up and lunging forward in the bed.
"Just a bad dream. Just a bad dream," I reassure myself. As I take deep breaths to calm myself down, I hear footsteps padding quickly to the room.
"Cris?" Asks Deans voice, groggy from sleep. "You okay?"
"Yea," I clear my throat. "Just a bad dream. Go back to bed," I say kindly.
"You sure?" He questions.
"Yea."
"Okay then. Night."
"Night," I sigh flopping back down on the bed.
...
I take the next day re-adjusting and talking to Bobby, learning his life story and his history with the boys. I fall asleep quickly that night, still exhausted.
...
"NO!" I awake screaming. This time Dean's at my room quicker.
"What the hell was that?!" He asks his voice filled with concern.
I shake my head repeatedly. "Just another bad dream..."
"Really? Two nights in a row?" He asks. I can't see him in the dark, but I know his expression will show his disbelief.
"I...I guess," I say lying back down and covering my eyes with an arm.
It's silent for a long while and I start to believe he left before he breaks the silence.
"You good?" He questions.
"Yea, I'm alright now," I lie.
"You want me to stay?" He asks a bit quieter.
"No, it's alright. I'm good now, thanks."
I hear him pad away down the hallway and I let out a shaky breath.
...
When I wake up in the morning I decide to spend the day catching up with Sam. But when I find him, he seems busy reading lore on the apocalypse so instead I decide to go for a walk and get some fresh air. That walk turns into a run and three hours later I find myself at a bar, drinking away my misery. By the time I leave, I've shown the bartender how to make five drinks he didn't know existed. As I walk outside the starts shine bright against the black sky and I pull my jacket on cutting off the cold air from biting my skin.
...
"Please...Please! Stop! NO! STOP!" My eyes snap open to the sound of my own voice. I let out a groan and grab my head. Every time I shut my eyes I see the scene all over again.
"Go away!" I moan loudly. I hear Deans footsteps coming to my room just like the past two nights. I sit up in the bed as he approaches the room. He leans against the door frame and sighs. He takes in a sharp breath to say something but I cut him off.
"Yes, it was just a bad dream. Yes, for the third night in a row. Yes, I'm fine. No, I don't need you to stay," I state bluntly.
"Alright, fair enough," he says spinning on his heel and leaving.
...
I play guitar and drink almost all day trying my best to drown out the images that keep flooding my mind every time I blink. Dean spends most of his time in the junk yard outside Bobbys house tampering with cars. Every time he's inside I make sure I'm not.
...
It's the fourth night when I actually start getting worried. When I wake up screaming I find that tears are also leaking from my eyes. I sit up and put my head in my hands rubbing away the tears. A voice startles me from the hallway.
"Okay, I'm calling it," Sighs Dean. "Enough is enough. It's been four nights in a row Cristina!"
I stay quiet knowing he's right, but deciding to stay in denial. Dean comes into the room for the first time in three days and sits on the bed next to me.
"I know it's nightmares of hell Cristina, it's okay if you don't want to talk, but don't deny it."
"Don't deny what? I'm fine," I say trying desperately to control the shaking in my voice.
"God damn it Cris you aren't fine! Look at you for Gods sake! You've barley eaten anything, you don't sleep, you're tortured with these nightmares, you...act differently."
"I haven't been acting differently!" I yell just loud enough to stay inside the room.
"Oh please, don't deny it! You've been avoiding me at every chance you get. You're not you anymore. What the hell happened to you?!" His volume rising.
"I- I don't know okay?!" I yelp trying to defend myself.
"Cristina, you know perfectly well what happened."
"Well what do you want me to do?!" I throw my hands up in defeat.
He reaches out to touch my arm and I yelp jumping back and cringing, all at once.
"You see!" He's yells.
"I-I-That's-that's not my fault Dean! You can't blame me for that!" I stutter back.
"Who else is there to blame?! This never would of happened if you didn't leave!"
"Ohhhhh SO that's what this is about?!" I spit.
"Yes! What the hell was that stunt?!" He shouts.
"Stunt?! I was trying to save the world jackass! Something you clearly couldn't do!"
"Don't change the subject. This isn't about me Cristina, it's about you!"
"UGHHH! God Damn it Dean! Your so..."
"So what?!"
"So damn...stubborn!"
"Are you actually calling me stubborn after you Still won't admit that you've been having nightmares about hell and it's killing you?!"
"Why the hell do you care anyways?! You barely know me! You've only known me for what, a month?! And for most of that I was dead! I'm just some hot piece of ass you stumbled along and had to babysit for nine days! Then you couldn't deal with some 'innocent little missys' death on your chest so you brought me back. You give me a few days to get back on my feet before you kick me out right? That's now this story plays out?! So I should be smart and not get strung along by some lonely, stubborn, alcoholic, asshole!" I feel the words fly out of me without realizing it.
"What the hell was that?!" He yells standing up. "Is that really what you think?! I- You- That's really what you take from all of this?!" He grabs the wooden chair next to my bed and slams it down causing it to snap in several places.
I cringe and my mind is flooded with images of hell. Dean notices my reaction and his face slightly softens. For some reason this makes me angrier. I get out of bed revealing my pajama shorts and an old shirt that Dean let me borrow.
"Don't you dare give me sympathy! I was in hell for three years! Two weeks is nothing!" I shout pointing a finger at him.
"Then why do you act more hurt by it?!"
"DON'T. Don't act like you know me Winchester. You know nothing about me!" I approach him angrily.
"Well, that's funny because you seemed to show me a little slide show. Remember that?! Your 'All about me' presentation?"
My blood boils and I clench my jaw so hard it hurts my teeth. I can practically feel myself vibrating with anger. "You stupid jackass! You are such a douche! You don't even know why I showed you that! How dare you bring that up! That was personal!" I yell try to shove him backwards.
"You wanna know hat happened in hell Dean?!" I yell pushing him once more.
"Yes!"
"Well that's to bad! I'm not gonna tell you!" I continue pushing him, but he holds his ground. "You- ugh! You piss me off so much! I hate you!"
"Oh shut up Cristina!"
For the first time, I can see Dean clearly while the moonlight hits him in the room. I shove him again my adrenaline pumping. "I fucking hate you!"
"Stop shoving me and shut up damn it!" He yells.
"Make me Jackass!" I yell back. Before either of us can think twice Dean grabs me and pushes me up against the wall. He slams his hands on the wall behind me trapping me.
"Just stop damn it!"
"Or what?!" I spit.
"You better stop Cris, I'm warning you!"
"I said...MAKE ME."
Before I can process what's happening he slams his mouth against mine. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him back; hard. Our mouths collide and I have to stand on my tiptoes to reach him. His fingers slip slightly under my shirt when it rides up a bit. The feeling of his fingers on my skin sends shivers down my spine. His tongue slips into my mouth and I moan slightly before I do the same to him. It takes a while before I remember I'm still angry. I should not be allowing him this pleasure! I break away and push him towards the doorway.
"Get out," I say out of breath.
"Fine," he pants getting shoved towards the door by me.
Once he's in the doorway he grabs my waist and pushes me up against the door frame. Not even realizing what either of us are doing we both meet in the middle for another kiss. His hands travel around to the small of my back and I melt underneath his touch.
"No, Cristina," I think. Once more I push him away and into the hallway. He stumbles backwards and I turn around quickly deciding not to let him draw me in for more. I close the door behind me and lean against it smiling.
"What are you a fourteen year old girl?" I think to myself giggling. I get back in bed and have no problem sleeping for the rest of the night.
...
I wake up the next morning to the feeling of a dip in the bed. I reluctantly groan awake rubbing my eyes. The first thing in my view is Dean.
"Ready?" He asks.
"Ughhh for what," I moan.
"Road trip," He says smirking and holding up the keys to the Impala.
"Dean," I moan. "It's to early in the morning for shenanigans."
"Come on, get up. We actually need to talk."
That gets my attention. I slowly sit up in bed.
"About what?" I ask concerned.
"We'll save that for the car," He chuckles before leaving. I quickly shower, pack up all my things and head downstairs.
Sam smiles at me from the kitchen table.
"What?" I ask.
"Nothing, I'm just relieved that you and Dean worked it out. Last night I heard you guys screaming at each other, I thought one of you was going to murder the other."
I laugh a bit thinking about what it must of sounded like.
"I'm hurt Sam, I could of been murdered and you just left me?" I tease.
"Hey," he says throwing his hands up like he's surrendering, "I figured I'd let you two handle it, and look you've worked it out."
I laugh again and blush a little. Our solutions weren't as mature as he might think.
"So, do you know where I'm off to on this mysterious road trip?" I ask Sam.
"Nope, but Dean did tell me that there were a few possible cases along the way so I hope you have everything."
"Yup, I'm prepared for any and all situations," I reply.
Sam does a fake cough and then murmurs "Girl Scout".
I smile and lightly punch his shoulder. In the front of the house Dean is putting stuff in the trunk of 'his baby'. I throw my bag in the back seat and take shotgun. I hear the trunk slam and Dean gets in the car.
"Bobby knows we're leaving right?" I question.
"Yup. Everything's all set," he replies sticking the key in the ignition and backing out of the driveway.
"So...where to?" I ask.
Dean smirks in response.
"You'll see."
...
"We're heading for Venus and still we stand tall!" I sing loudly throwing my hand out of the open window of the Impala. The open highway stretches out long and far ahead of us.
"It's the final countdown!" Yells Dean, hitting the steering wheel to the beat. We hadn't even been on the road for an hour and we had already hit the rock music. As the song finishes a silence falls over us and I suddenly feel awkward.
"So, what did you want to talk about?" I ask breaking the silence after a minute or so. Dean turns his head and gives me a look. A 'You know exactly what we need to talk about, don't pretend like you don't'' look. I groan dramatically and look out the window. He changes the radio to another rock station and the music plays out.
...
Dean and I had only exchanged a few words and glances for the last several hours. I was starting to get tired of the road. Just then my stomach grumbles loudly.
"Yea, I could use some grub too," chuckles Dean pulling off of an exit. The sun sets through the window of the diner we sit at. Dean eats his burger and I play with my pancakes, surprisingly not as hungry as my stomach says.
"Who orders pancakes for dinner?" asks Dean after swallowing a mouthful of his burger.
"People who like breakfast for dinner," I shrug.
"Well, what do you have for breakfast then?"
"I don't eat breakfast."
"You don't eat anything actually," mumbles Dean taking another bite of his burger.
"I know I don't eat much, but I'm just never really hungry."
"Yea that's definitely why your stomach was just grumbling," He says sarcastically.
"Kids used to make fun of me," I snap. "I used to walk around and they would laugh at me, I assumed it was because I wasn't skinny. It still kinda haunts me so sometimes I don't eat cause... I don't know..." I trail off.
"Oh please, your perfect how you are," says Dean seriously.
My stomach flips at his words and I meet Deans eyes.
"Huh I never realized," He squints at me.
"What?"
"Your eyes. They're hazel."
"Oh," I laugh. "Yea, they usually just look boring and brown but sometimes when the light hits them just right you can see, they're-"
"Green," He interrupts. After Dean finishes his burger, I grab a box for my pancakes and we get back on the road. We only drive for an hour or so more before we stop at a motel.
We get up to the font desk and I can't help but laugh. Monsters Ink is playing in the corner of the lobby. I nudge Dean as we approach the front desk lady and laugh, "Look it's you," when Mike Wazowski appears on the screen. He looks over and rolls his eyes.
"Hi, how may rooms?" The lady asks.
Dean and I exchange a quick glance before he says "Just one please."
"Queen bed?" She questions.
"Actually, could we have two beds please?"
"Two...beds? In one room?" She asks confused.
"Don't be ridiculous Dean," I sigh. "One queen bed please," I say turning to the lady.
"Okay...?" She says ringing us up and handing us the room key.
"What the hell was that?!" Snaps Dean as we make our way to the room.
"I'm not making you pay for an extra bed for me Dean. I'm fine on the floor."
"Cris, you aren't going to sleep on the floor," he says unlocking the door and walking in, holding it open for me.
"Why not?" I question dropping my stuff down in a corner of the room.
He runs a hand over his face and sighs. "Because I'm not gonna let you sleep on the damn floor! Now, do you want the first shower? Cause if you don't I'm getting in right now."
"Go ahead," I say quietly. He puts his stuff down and brushes past me into the bathroom. I take a seat on the bed and start laying out my clothes for bed as I hear the water start in the bathroom. I pull my guitar out of my bag and strum a few notes. I open the curtains to the window and sit back on the bed looking out. I start playing songs and I don't even realize that I've started singing until about three songs through. I'm tempted to play one song in particular, but I decide not to because the sun is gone and now stars fill the sky. I stare at the moon and start playing a song I wrote a long time ago. I remember playing it with Dina in a motel while Mark listened. He proposed to her the next day. I remember so clearly playing it looking at the stars just like I am. About halfway through the song I realize the water in the bathroom has stopped. I can feel Deans eyes on me, even though he's completely behind me, but it doesn't bother me so I continue playing. When I finally finish I put my guitar down and turn slowly on the bed. Dean stands by the doorway to the bathroom leaning against the frame. The lower half of his body is wrapped in a towel but I can't pay attention to anything except his face. His hair is wet and water droplets run down the side of this face. His eyes are green and brown and gold and glassy, sharp.
"I -uh... I wrote that one," I say quietly. It hits me that Dean probably doesn't care. It was just a song. "Why did you tell him that?" Is the only thing I can think. He just stands there with this unreadable look on his face. I get up and walk past him into the bathroom. I take a quick shower anxious to get out for some reason. When I reach for a towel I find empty air. I look out and see there's nothing there's. "Great. Just great. Wonderful. This is fucking absolutely perfect," I think sarcastically.
"Dean!" I yell.
"Yea?!" He hollers back. I turn of the water and stand in the shower freezing.
"You took the only damn towel!" I shout.
"No, there were two...I think."
"Dean! This isn't funny! I'm freezing! You jackass, you knew there was only one!"
"Okay okay," I hear him murmur. "I was gonna put it back but then I got distracted!" He yells towards the bathroom.
"Well, just give it to me now!"
"Well what do you want me to do?!" He shouts. "The door to the shower is clear!"
"Can you just drop it in here and not look?!"
"No," he responds after a long hesitation. I stifle a laugh and feel a blush rise up in my cheeks.
"Okay fine just leave it right by the door and I'll grab it!" I hear shuffling coming from the room and then hear a drop on the carpet. I hop out of the shower and open the door quickly snatching the towel. I hear Dean laughing from inside the room and I laugh myself.
"Take it easy speed racer," he teases.
I wrap myself up and ring out my hair as best as I can before I realize my clothes are still laid out on the bed. I open the bathroom door and walk over to the bed where Dean lies down. He sits himself up on his elbows as he seeing me approaching. I grab my clothes as I feel his eyes roam me. I look at him and our eyes meet. He opens his mouth to say something but I cut him off.
"Dean, if you say one god damn word, I swear I will kill you," I warn. He laughs too and lies back down.
"Can you turn away please?" I ask.
"Why?"
"Because, I'm gong to change," I say simply.
He groans. "Why can't you just do it in the bathroom?!"
"Cause, the tile in there is wet and I don't want to slip," I lie.
Dean scoffs at the excuse and turns away on the bed. I change as quickly as possible.
"All done," I say.
He turns back around on the bed so he's facing me again. "Jesus Christ," he mumbles looking at me.
"What?" I ask concerned. I look down and hit my hand to my forehead. I'm wearing some long grey cotton sweatpants and another one of Deans old t-shirts.
"Sorry, I know, I keep wearing your shirts," I mumble grabbing a pillow off the bed.
"No, don't apologize," he chuckles. "The reason I said Jesus Christ is not because you stole yet another one of my shirts."
"First of all, I did not steal your shirt. I found it, and it was not being used, so I took it. Second of all, shut up you pervert!" I laugh throwing the pillow at him. He dodges it easily and laughs.
"What? I mean what's wrong with liking that you wear my shirts? Do you like wearing my shirts?" He asks.
"Yes," I respond honestly, but a little to quickly.
He chuckles and flops back on the bed. "See, so it's a win win."
I roll my eyes but can't help smiling. I grab the pillow off the ground and lay it in the center of the room. I lay down and rest my head on it closing my eyes.
"What are you doing?" Asks Dean.
"Going to bed?"
"Not on the floor you aren't," He states blankly.
"Dean, you paid for the room, you get the bed."
"Cristina! Stop being so damn considerate and just get your ass in the bed."
I reluctantly get up and sit on the bed.
"Cris, I said in bed, not on bed."
I sigh and get under the covers on the side next to Dean. He heads for the floor and for the next twenty minutes neither of us sleep. He tossed around on the floor and I stay awake listening to him suffer.
"Dean, you can come sleep up here if you want," I say sitting up.
"What?" He asks groggily.
"Dean, you aren't going to get any rest on the floor and then your going to be cranky and I'm going to feel guilty so please just get up here."
He slowly gets up and stumbles over to the bed in the gets under the covers.
"Where are you?" He asks.
"I'm right here Dean," I laugh.
"Good," he responds.
He moves closer to me so I can slightly see him in the dark.
"Your hair's still wet," he mumbles grabbing a strand of my hair. "You should dry it before you get a cold."
"Dean Winchester. You are a rough, mean, tough, hunter, and a grown man. But if I didn't know better I'd say your a Mom," I laugh.
He snorts. "Well, I'm sorry for being concerned," he says sarcastically. A silence falls over us.
"Your concerned for me?" I ask finally.
"Well, yea, I mean, your a friend, why wouldn't I be?" For some reason the word friend stings and anchors its self in my brain and heart.
"Right," I say clearing my throat and moving away from him.
"Hey where did you go?" He chuckles after I move. "Come back," he says softly.
"I think I should go sleep on the floor," I say lifting up the covers.
"Hey! What happened? What did I do?" He questions frantically.
"No...nothing," I lie. "It's just, I think since you have to drive and all, you should get good sleep and I'll probably keep you up with my tossing and turning."
"Cris, lay down."
I stand up.
"I don't understand, what the hell just happened?" He asks his voice showing the first signs of anger.
"Dean, I am not going to fight with you again. What happened to our truce? Remember that?" I ask.
"Yea that didn't work out. It died along with you," he snaps. I pinch the bridge of my nose and then drop my hands to my sides clenching them into fists.
"I don't want to talk about that Dean! and I don't want to fight with you!" I yell accidentally. I lower my voice to a whisper and continue. "Can I just have one night with you? Without fighting or pain or any type of drama. Just one night," My voice shakes.
"No, your right," says Dean quietly. "Your right I'm sorry. I don't want to fight either. Just come back please. I swear I won't fight with you for the rest of the night, just lay down."
I slowly sit back down on the bed and then get under the covers releasing a long shaky breath.
"Cris?" Dean whispers. I notice that I'm breathing heavily and I'm as far away from Dean as possible on the bed. I hat the distance. I want more than anything to just be next to him.
"I miss you," he says. "I want to help you but I don't know how. And ever since you left, I just miss you."
I move so that I'm right next to him huddled into his side with my face on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around me and brushes my arm with his hand lightly. I don't know what to say. I know that everything he's saying is true but I can't respond. There just aren't words that I can say. So instead I decide to rely on the 'actions speak louder than words' phrase. I snuggle closer to Dean which makes him hold me tighter. In a surge of courage I tilt my head up and press a lingering kiss to his cheek. Then I drop my head, and fall asleep just like that.
...
"DEAN!" I wake up screaming in terror.
"What?!" he says sounding wide awake. My eyes spring open and focus on Dean causing me to scramble out of the bed completely.
"Hey hey hey! It's okay! It's okay Cris! It's me!" I wrap my hands around my sides and shake violently not knowing what to believe. He sits up and crawls over to me. He peels my hands away from my sides and takes them in his.
"Come'ere," he whispers. "It's okay. It's me. You're safe. I'm not gonna hurt you," He soothes tugging me back into the bed slowly. I let him wrap me up in his arms as he continues to whisper. "It's alright Cris. You're alright. You're safe with me. I'm not going to hurt you. I'm not going to leave you." He gently runs his hand through my hair and presses an occasional kiss to the top of my head until I fall asleep again.
...
The next morning I shift awake and find myself searching the bed for Dean. When he's no where to be found I start to panic.
"Dean?" I call out sleepily. "Yea, I'm right here," he says quietly coming back over to the bed and sitting down next to me.
"Morning," I mumble sitting up. He places the box from the diner yesterday on my lap.
"Lets try breakfast for breakfast, what do you say?" He asks. I smile and grab a pancake from the box handing it to him. I take one myself and we both eat in silence watching the sunrise.