Skylar sat on the front stoop outside of their motel room. She wore a pink hat and sunglasses to shield her gaze from the late morning Arizona rays that beat down harshly. She watched intently as Dean worked beneath the hood of the Impala. He was sweating profusely, accompanied by a deep scowl that was etched into his handsome features.
He was clearly in a bad mood and Skylar remained silent as to not 'poke the bear.' She loathed keeping her mouth shut. Normally, she would gladly speak her mind, but after everything that had transpired, she figured it was in both of their best's interest if she let him brood in peace.
Ever since she could remember, she would gaze at Dean when he wasn't looking, appreciating the sight before her. He really was the most gorgeous man she had ever seen from the deep green of his eyes to the full mouth that was so X-rated, it should be illegal. However, it wasn't until the last few years that she began looking at him as someone she would one day share a bed with. And despite sleeping next to him every night for the past month, he never touched her until now.
Skylar woke up feeling embarrassed and moderately abashed at what had transpired the previous night between Dean and herself. She wasn't sure how she had let something like that happen. She had practical begged him to touch her.
Skylar would be lying to herself if she said she hadn't enjoyed it. In fact, it had been the most thrilling and erotic moment of her short life.
Dean had touched her more intimately than she had ever touched herself. And surprisingly, he hadn't attempted to push the boundary further. He had left her a virgin and never once moved to unclothe himself in order to find his own release. Despite her young age, Skylar wondered if that's why he was in a foul mood.
Considering the amount of issues that were piled upon his shoulders at the moment, it was hard telling which thought was currently provoking his anger.
Skylar's phone rang from the pocket inside her jean shorts, gaining the attention of Dean as he leaned deep underneath the hood of his precious car. He gave her a sideways glance of surprise. She was just as shocked. Her phone never rang.
She stood and walked out of earshot before answering her cell.
"Hello?" she asked in curiosity.
"Skylar?" She released the breath she hadn't known she was holding and relaxed slightly.
"Hi, Sam."
"What's this about Dean running away? I've been trying to call every cell he has for days, but he hasn't answered. Now they're just going straight to voicemail."
"After what happened with Alastair, I think he just needs a moment to himself." Her voice was barely above a whisper. She felt a little guilty talking to Sam about this, especially since he had ran away with someone whom might be considered as their enemy. Dean was still angry despite Sam's arrival and the fact that he had killed Alastair.
"I talked to Castiel. He said that Dean refuses to speak to him. I understand where he's coming from, but he can't run away from the very thing that saved him from hell. They'll put him back!"
Skylar winced at Sam's declaration, realizing that he was right. Dean couldn't ignore his 'purpose' forever.
"Do you really think that Cass would do that?"
"Not by his own choice, but if given the orders, he might."
"It's only been a few days, Sam. He's not ready to face it, I can tell."
Sam became quiet for several moments before changing the subject slightly. "Are you alright?"
"Of course," she answered quickly. "Why do you ask?"
"You know why. I've been Dean's brother for 24 years. I know he can be a bit hard to handle at times."
Skylar bit down on her bottom lip, instantly agreeing with her brother-in-law's words.
"I don't think he'd hurt me."
"Not intentionally, no." Sam's hesitancy and weak reassurance were unnerving, but slightly angered Skylar. She leaned against the outside window ledge of one of the motel rooms, gazing over at Dean whose focus was once again on the task at hand. She wasn't even positive that the Impala needed any work done, but laboring beneath the hood of Baby had always been therapeutic for him.
As she watched his muscles work furiously beneath his actions, she realized that despite the anger and indifference, lied the one person she could count on no matter what.
When her mother had died when she was a small child, he had been on her door step in less than a day after driving all night to reach her. She had clung to him furiously, craving a small amount of solace that her father would never give her. He had held her tight, never letting go until she was the one to pull away first.
And now he was her husband, accepting his role (thought hesitantly), the moment Ike had wanted to push her aside once and for all.
"I have to go," she said into the phone.
"Wait! Where are you?"
"We're…" Skylar halted her words. If Dean wanted Sam to know where they were, he could have picked up his brother's calls. She realized that at the moment, Sam was probably tracing their call. She shut her cell and turned off the power before walking back to the Impala, placing a hand against the black exterior before leaning forward and watching Dean's expert motions.
"Who was that?" he asked in a gruff manner that was made harsher by his deep voice.
She hesitated before answering. "Sam."
Dean raised his eyes to her, halting his actions. "And you answered it?"
"No one ever calls me. I didn't have his number saved because we just rely on your cells all the time. You only bought me the damn thing in case you and I get separated. I didn't even know he had my number." Skylar stopped, realizing she was rambling at a fast pace.
Dean sighed heavily before throwing his wrench to the ground and slamming the Impala's hood with a loud bang. "I gave it to him before he left with that cunt, Ruby."
"So it's your fault?" she asked. The accusatory question came out quickly, making her wince. It had been days since she gave Dean any lip, and to her surprise, his mouth curved at the corner in an amused gesture.
"I guess so," he replied. Skylar was a little relieved to see the obvious tension leave his shoulders, if only for a moment. "Are you going to tell me what he wanted?"
She shrugged incredulously, "he said he left you several voicemails. I'm sure you have some kind of idea."
At that comment, his dark mood returned, though it wasn't necessarily directed at her any longer.
"He's being a drama queen," Dean said with the roll of his eyes.
Dean could feel his wife gazing up at him as she sat close by watching his every move. He knew that he was in a foul mood and was trying his best not to take it out on her. He was terrified of speaking and making her angry, or worse, frightened. There were so many thoughts swirling through his mind that he couldn't keep them all straight.
He kept telling himself over and over that she was his wife and that last night was not wrong. But trying to fully convince himself of that fact was proving to be more difficult than he thought it would be.
The last thing Dean wanted was for Skylar to think that she had done anything wrong. The look on her face was beyond adorable. She continued gazing at him with a mixture of wonder, curiosity, and confusion, though he couldn't see her eyes that were shaded by the glasses she wore due to the harsh sun that was currently beating down.
As he worked on the Impala, though nothing was necessarily wrong with Baby at that moment, he could hear her phone ring, which surprised him. However, he had a sinking suspicion it was Sam considering that was the only other person who he had been given her number besides himself.
She spoke in low tones several feet away. Dean strained to hear what was being said, but it was no use. By the subtle glances he threw her way, he could see the worry and trepidation on her sweet face. He became instantly angry to know that whatever was being said on the other line was causing her discomfort.
Dean had an idea of what was being said. After all, Sam left countless voicemails begging Dean to come out of hiding and face his..their destiny. It was the fucking apocalypse. What kind of destiny could possibly be awaiting him aside from certain death?
When Skylar walked back over to him and confessed that it was in fact Sam, he was irritated that she had answered the call at all. But then she showed him a sign of her old sassy self, and his mood instantly brightly to a manageable degree.
"He's always been a drama queen."
"But do you think he's right?" she dared to ask.
Dean ignored the question. The last thing he wanted to think about was saving the world, or worse, being given a free ride back to hell. He tried to change the subject, though the topic was on the verge of being equally uncomfortable. However, neither of them had mentioned it despite being on the tips of their tongue, he could tell.
"How are you…after last night?"
Dean leaned against the hood of his car and began wiping away grease from his hands with an old rag he always carried. Giving her a sideways glance, he could tell that her cheeks blushed red, which had nothing to do with the heat of the day.
"I'm alright," she answered quietly with a small shrug of her left shoulder.
Dean smirked at her obvious discomfort despite the softness in his eyes. "I'm sorry about what happened. The last thing I intended to do was take advantage of you, Baby Girl."
Skylar gazed up him, her eyes still shaded, but by the sudden change in her demeanor, he could sense that something was off. She stomped away and back into their motel room – uncertainty and anger etched into each step. Dean looked after her, cursing himself for obviously saying the wrong thing.
Skylar was a handful, but she wasn't necessarily as emotional as most females, which he was happy about. But after last night, she would obviously be a bit off given their current state of affairs.
Dean didn't do emotions of any kind. Every time his brother got a bit touchy feely, he'd give him hell and call him a women. But he couldn't necessarily do that with Skylar – she was a women. He couldn't just walk away and let her sort through her mental issues alone. He'd have to face it and talk about f…feelings. Dean shuddered at the thought.
He walked into the motel room, instantly loving the feel of the air conditioning that hit his overheated body. Skylar was sitting on the edge of the bed that had held their erotic session only 10 hours prior to this moment. She was flipping through the channels angrily, not really looking at what was on the television.
Dean reached into the cooler and pulled a beer out, popping the top and lifting it to his lips. Before it made it to his mouth, Skylar turned a seething glare in his direction and spoke.
"It's 11 in the morning, Dean!"
Dean paused and realized that the challenge in her eyes was almost as frightening as his own seething glares usually were. He smirked once again and sat the undrunk beer on the nearby table.
"You're right."
Skylar looked taken about that he had actually listened to her, but quickly reset her attention back on the television instead of looking in his direction. Dean sat on the edge of the bed next to her.
"You stink," she said in a matter-of-fact voice that obviously meant to get him to move away from her in that moment. However, Dean stayed next to her and roughly grabbed the remote out of her small hand, throwing it across the room. "Hey!"
Skylar got up to retrieve it, but Dean grabbed her wrist, swinging her around until she once again sat beside him. She gave him an agitated sigh, but stayed rooted in place.
"Was it something I said?" he asked with humor.
"Jack ass. Go take a shower."
"Want to join me?"
Skylar looked at him with horror in her eyes that quickly turned to little slits of hesitation. "You just said that you're sorry about what happened. First, you think you took advantage of me, and now you want to do it again."
It was difficult not to laugh at her flailing arms that she was using to make a point. "I did take advantage of you and I am sorry for it; it doesn't mean I regret it."
Her bottom lip stuck out slightly, taking his words into deep consideration. "Oh," she breathed.
"I loved having you in my arms last night. After all, you are my wife. I guess there's nothing wrong with having a little fun," he said with a wink and a smile. Dean realized that Skylar was beginning to weaken to his charms, just like every other women he had come into contact with prior to being married. However, she was still new to giving into him, and he was trying his best to proceed with caution despite her obviously state of newfound lust.
"Was I alright?"
Her small question tugged at his heart; a heart he thought was long hardened and dead.
"Perfect," he purred, leaning forward to capture her lips in a searing kiss. He was relieved when she wrapped her arms around his neck and offered herself fully, climbing into his lap. For the first time, Dean gave up control and allowed Skylar to dominate their embrace. He pulled back slightly, offering a devilish grin in response to her obvious hunger.
"How about that shower?"
He loved the way she bit on her bottom lip, chewing slowly as she contemplated his words with hesitation. He held his hands up in surrender, as if reading her thoughts. "I promise to be on my best behavior…moderately."
She rolled her eyes affectionately before offering a small nod. Dean lifted her by the back of her knees, wrapping her legs around his waist; kissing her slowly on the way to the bathroom.