Chapter 20

The next morning Dean woke up first, again. It was still dark out; it was still utterly too early. He couldn't see any daylight behind the curtains of the window, just the glow from a streetlight outside. He sighed to himself and rolled over, hoping that he would just drift back off for a few more hours. He threw his arm over his eyes.

This morning he wasn't as skilled at evading consciousness as he usually was. He sighed again, removing his arm from his over his eyes after finally coming to terms with the fact that he would not be going back to sleep again that morning.

He glared at the obligatory standard cheap alarm clock on the nightstand. 4:22 am.

"There is no way in hell I'm getting up yet." He thought to himself, now pissed that he was even awake.

He looked around the still-dark motel room. Taking in the details as everything became less and less fuzzy around the edges.

His behemoth of a brother was in the bed across from him, he was just a hulking form under the blanket, and a mop of hair on the pillow. You could just see his chest moving slowly up and down with the slow rhythm of his breathing.

Then Dean remembered that there was a third person in the room with them this time. He sat up slightly and looked over at the tiny couch by the TV.

She definitely was not as balled up as before, and the sheet lay abandoned on the floor, but her knees were still up near her chin. Her hair, now dry, lay in Mega Waves all around her sleeping frame. It was also partially covering her face, obscuring it from his view. She had her arm bent under her head where her pillow had been. She was now hugging it to her chest.

Although she had relaxed a great deal from her tightly balled position he had remembered before he went to bed, she still took up such little room. It amazed Dean how it was physically possible for someone of her height, and whether or not she would be sore at all in the morning.

Dean reached behind him and roughed up his pillows a bit to get more comfortable. And to also elevate his head so he could have a clear view of the couch in his covert laying position.

Dean relaxed back into his pillow, looking over at J's sleeping figure. It was quiet enough right now that he could hear both her and Sam's slow and steady breathing if he concentrated hard enough. Dean locked on to one of the breaths, the one he didn't recognize, and listened.

He could see from here that her lips were slightly parted. Dean also noticed that there was a slightly pained look on her face, mostly around her eyes. Her eyebrows were furrowed. Even though J's eyes were closed, he could tell they would have a deeply tortured look in them if they were open.

She had assured him, multiple times, that she was just fine the night before. Dean had inquired, many times, the night before. Now he was less inclined to believe her.

Dean wondered if she had lied to him before. He also wondered why she was clutching the pillow so tightly to her chest. Clinging to it like it was a matter of life or death.

Was this normal? Dean felt better at the thought. Then worse at the same thought the more he contemplated it. She was ok, but she wasn't ok. That much was clear. He wondered how deep her pain ran. He had seen hints of it before now.

"Story of my life." Dean thought to himself. Once again proving Dean Winchester and Self-Loathing were synonymous.

As he looked, she brought a hand up to her face and brushed her hair from it. The pained expression now was gone. As if swept away with the hair by her hand.

The hand that had brushed the hair aside now rested right under her chin, next to her elbow. Dean recalled a thought from the previous night. Of scooping J up and bringing her to bed. A proper bed.

Dean then realized something. He was happy that J was there. Not just that she had shown up and saved both of their asses, but that she was actually physically there. What had been bugging him so badly was that he had heard hide nor hair from her after the night they left The Roadhouse.

And he hated every minute of it.

Now that she was actually there did he realize how much he had missed her. Even his dreams hadn't been the same. Dean was also left with the fact that he had no way of reaching out to her, even if he had really wanted to. Which he had. But that would involve including a third party, which he did not want to do. He wanted her number, but he was not that desperate.

His pride had gotten in the way again. He had taken her absence personally, Dean then realized. All she had done was going about her life and let him go about his. She had just kept to herself. Like she had before they had met. Like it should be. He looked upon her, soundly sleeping.

Now Dean felt butt-hurt that she hadn't been around. Not even in his dreams, any more. The more he thought the more of he felt like a child for feeling that way. He wanted her to visit his dreams again. He wanted that very much. But J was right. It was an invasion of his privacy, and to just show up in someone's dreams should be considered rude as fuck. Even though he personally felt the opposite.

The logic and reason were starting to slap Dean in the face as he watched her sleep. Of course, she wouldn't just barge into his life. Had he shown any real interest in her outside of his dreams? Had she shown interest in him? In his dreams and otherwise? Had she given him plenty of chances? Had she not made it clear she approved of any advances?

The lump grew in his throat at the thoughts of each of these questions and their answers. He knew perfectly well she had given him the green light, the go-ahead, and he had not taken it. Like a fool he had just been suppressing everything, hoping it would just go away.

Trying to ignore everything. Pretending it was nothing.

And now it felt like he might lose out on this the opportunity that was presenting itself in the form of a woman.

Now that J was around again, Dean could feel how much he had really missed her presence. The fact that she had not reached out to him since the second dream, days and days, an eternity ago, still stung. He wanted her around.

More importantly, he wanted her to want to be around.

He wanted her to have him on his mind as often as she was on his. This was more of a complication than Dean ever could have imagined. Wanting to have sex with a coworker is one thing. This was a whole new issue entirely.

Dean was famous for hitting it and quitting it. He wanted to do all the dirty, nasty things with, and to her. He also found that he could not ignore the fact that he wanted to be the thing she was currently clinging so tightly to. The reason the pain in her face vanished.

Dean laid in bed, semi-conscious for about another hour before Sam started to stir.

Rather than taking this opportunity to get up, he pretended to still be asleep as Sam crept around the room, getting his bag and things before heading to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

As soon as Dean heard the water turn on and was sure that Sam was not coming out for a little bit, he opened his eyes. He readjusted his angle again so he could see J across the room.

She was still curled up. Dean wanted to go over there and physically undo her limbs. There was no way in hell that was comfortable.

Dean must have laid there openly staring for many minutes. As he watched J started to stir slightly. He was only slightly afraid that his staring had caused her unease. Even in sleep.

She just adjusted slightly, flipped her hair away from her face and neck, and slept on.

Dean's eyes traced her now exposed neck. He thought of kissing it. Wondering if that would wake her up or not. If it would take more to wake her up, or less as it did with him most times out of ten. Then again you couldn't breathe funny around Dean without waking him up.

His eyes rested on her face. She looked quite serene now. Oblivious. Non-troubled. None of the earlier pain that he had seen was present, though he highly doubted that is was gone. He would call himself an expert in that particular area.

Dean heard the shower water turn off in the bathroom and quickly returned to his sleep-like pose.

Sam took a few more minutes in the bathroom before he crept out and put his shoes on. He grabbed Dean's keys and left. Dean guessed for breakfast and coffee.

Dean heard Baby purr to life outside and leave the parking lot. He finally allowed himself to wake up. He sat up and started stretching. Glad to be alone. For the most part.

By now the sun had risen enough to send a beam of light through the shitty curtains they had left half-closed the night before. The shaft of sunlight illuminating the entire room with its strength. And it was landing directly on the couch. Right where J lay sleeping.

Dean was struck dumb for a second when he looked closer now that he was sitting up. She seemed to almost glow in the early morning sun. Her hair was shining like some kind of commercial. She was giving Sammy a run for his money in the amazing hair department, and J was still fast asleep.

There was also a new detail that Dean had never noticed before. In the sunlight, J's hair was unmistakably red.

He saw all tones of brown he could think of. And a fair amount of red that had gone previously unnoticed. Dean got up out of bed and padded over to his bag. Eyes never leaving J's face, but ready to look away if she were to wake up. The sun was shining right in her face after all.

He reluctantly wrenched his eyes off of her as Dean grabbed his bag and headed to the bathroom to get ready before Sam came back. He made sure to keep as quiet as Sam had earlier. He didn't want to wake J up.

She really was fucking cute when she was asleep and he personally did not want to be responsible for waking his Sleeping Beauty.

"I'm not going to wake her up! You wake her up!" Dean whispered harshly to Sam later that morning.

"Fine. But I'll tell her it was your fault her coffee almost went cold." Sam turned to the couch. He reached out and put his hand on J's shoulder to gently shake her awake. Dean was about to realize that it had been a good idea to forfeit the job of waking J up.

The next thing he knew, Sam was face down, on the floor. Dean was laughing and J was swearing to herself.

"OH MY GOD SAM I AM SO SORRY!" J almost screamed as she went to help him up, having been the reason he was face down on the floor to begin with.

Sam had managed to wake J up, alright. She had then grabbed the arm he had reached out, pulled him down to the floor by it, and pulled herself on top of him on his way down. Pinning him down to the floor, with said arm held up behind his back.

Dean had never seen his brother move so fast before. He had also never seen anyone use a move like that before. It was like causing a controlled fall. Sam was lucky he had one other hand free that he was able to help to keep his pretty face from smashing into the floor.

Falling with style…

Dean was in tears with laughter now. J was apologizing profusely to Sam. Sam was still on the floor, dazed. Dean couldn't breathe.

It took everyone a moment to gather themselves.

"I am SO sorry again, Sam. It was a reflex. I didn't know who it was, just that there was a big dude lurking over me and waking me up." She said lamely into her almost empty coffee cup.

"J, seriously. You can stop apologizing. Do you know how many times this one had pulled guns on people? On me?" Sam said as he thumbed in Dean's direction. Dean looked affronted. Then he looked up and then shrugged in agreement as a grin spread across his face. He could not deny this particular accusation.

The laugh he got out of J was worth it. She sighed, she still looked extremely tired. She looked worn and weathered to Dean. It alarmed him how suddenly this new facade had popped up.

"J, are you ok? I mean no offense, but you look like you feel like shit." Dean said hesitantly. He had been on the receiving end of a woman who has mistaken what he meant by such comments in the past.

J shocked him again. She simply smiled and looked at him. She looked years older than she really was for the moment she looked tiredly up at Dean.

"I'm just beyond tired, Dean. When I said I had done things I had only read about before, that was all true. This is something for more experienced" she paused awkwardly for a moment; it did not escape Dean's notice. "Professionals. Things like this take its toll, only more so because I'm a n00b."

J put her now empty coffee cup in the trash and flopped back onto the couch where she had been sleeping. Dean noticed she did not seem to be at all sore from sleeping as she had been.

"I actually think I'm going to stay here one more night and let you guys go on ahead of me, so I can go back to bed. I need to recover. Sam seems to be fairing a lot better than me, I am not worried about him, so do not worry about him." She said at the look on Dean's face.

"Hey! I feel fine thank you very much!" Sam interjected defensively. "Maybe a little more tired than usual, but nothing weird or out of our ordinary," Sam said more to J than to Dean.

"Remember, if that changes, I expect to hear from you, Mr." J inclined her head towards Sam.

"Yes, Ma'am," Sam said somewhat seriously, but still flatly. He gave a half-heart salute in J's direction.

J smirked at this and chuckled, leaning her head back on the couch. Her eyes closed and she sighed, obviously worn out.

"Why don't you let Sam drive your car and you can crash in the back of the Impala?" Dean found himself saying abruptly, and without thinking.