I sighed as I threw my backpack on the bed and winced as I sat.

It had been a physical few days, stamping out a nest of vampires in some God forsaken hole in Georgia. It was four weeks since I'd met the Winchesters in Bobby's kitchen and we had become friends. 'The Dream Team' as Sam jokingly called us. Sam and I were actually pretty similar, we had both been to college and sometimes chatted about what life had been like...before. It had saddened me deeply to hear about what had happened to the boys parents and Sam's college girlfriend Jessica. They had lost as much, if not more, than I had to this awful life. We did most of the research, to Deans deep relief, and now had a good friendship that was strong after four weeks in each others company. I even told him a bit about my Dad and Jack, and I almost never talked about them.

Dean and I were...OK. It was actually him that had suggested I join them, on the day after he had come to see me in my room. I had declined – not used to hunting with others and not sure how I could bear to be around him now that he seemed so...off with me – but he had insisted.

'I'm not letting you take off on your own, Irish' he had said quietly, staring down at me. It was the first words he had said directly to me in almost twenty four hours. 'You either stay here and do research for Bobby or you come with us. You are not taking off alone, I won't have it. Take your pick.'

I'd been annoyed and stormed outside, angry with this man who thought he could tell me how to live my life after knowing me three days but Sam had calmed me down and convinced me.

'Deans...protective' he said later that night as we sat on the porch with a beer, Bobby reading inside and Dean having shut himself in his room in the same state of silence he had been in since I'd arrived.

'The people he cares about mean more to him than anything. And he cares about you. Don't take it the wrong way.'

I made a noise of annoyance. 'He doesn't know me' I said quietly. 'He hasn't said a word to me since I got here. It would be better if I just left.'

Sam grimaced. 'Yeah, that's very Dean. He goes...quiet when he's thinking. But don't leave, c'mon. Could even be fun' he said, nudging my elbow. I smiled and rolled my eyes at him.

And now a month later here I was. Dean still didn't talk to me much except for the odd times he forgot to be strong and silent and we laughed about something, or when we were working and communication was necessary. But when on the road, in motels, bars etc he didn't do or say much more than stare at me with a knitted brow in the way he does, as though he just couldn't figure something out.

I knocked on the door of the adjoining bedroom and Sam's voice told me to enter.

I did and saw him sat on his bed. Dean wasn't there but I could hear the shower running and flushed as I thought of how much I'd like to join him in it.

'You want me to have a look at that?' I asked, gesturing at the slash on his arm. He smiled. 'Yeah, thanks'.

I cleaned and disinfected it, patched it up. Like me he seemed to tired to talk. Mine and Sam's silences were comfortable though, not like the silences between Dean and I which were...not.

I stood and put a hand on his head. 'Glad you're OK' I said with a smile, meaning it. Dean's weirdness aside, I was...attached to the boys. And I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to them.

He smiled back. 'You too. Get some sleep.'

'May sleep on the floor, my back is in bits' I laughed as I went back to my room.

.

Twenty minutes later I was sitting on the bed reading when there was a knock at the door.

'Come in'

Dean entered hesitantly, closing the door behind him. I looked at him in surprise, I'd assumed it was Sam who sometimes came for a chat after Dean had taken himself off to a bar or to sleep. Dean never came to my room, not anymore.

He stood there looking unsure for a minute before speaking.

'You want a hand with that bad back?' he asked quietly. I stared at him, not knowing what to say. He walked over and sat on the bed beside me, gesturing for me to turn. I did, so that I was cross legged on the bed facing away from him and he put his hands to my back and neck, massaging gently. I gasped as he hit a knot and a twinge of pain went through me.

'Sorry' he said quietly, not stopping 'Needs to hurt to feel better. Don't tense your shoulders.'

I relaxed, realising I was poker stiff, and a few minutes later he took his hands off me. I wished he hadn't.

'That better?' he asked quietly. I nodded and turned my head to give him a forced smile.

'Yeah. Thanks'

He said nothing and I turned away, again not knowing what to do or say. For a moment he didn't move and then he pushed my hair aside and pressed a kiss to my neck as his hand went to my waist. He let out a shallow breath of air, like he had when I'd kissed him that first night. The electrical storm in my head was back but I was afraid to move, afraid to ruin the moment.

'G'night, Irish' he said in a low voice, kissing my neck once more before leaving the room.