A/N – Sorry about the wait between updates. Real life sucks ass and there's really nothing more that I'd rather do then get lost with these two. My Team Bean girls, MissJanuary and Spn-Lost-Twi make me who I am. I don't even know where I would be or this story would be without them.

Kripke and Meyer must have sold their souls to Crowley because they own all the cool shit.

Chapter song: All We Are by OneRepublic


We won't say our goodbyes. You know it's better that way. We won't break, we won't die. It's just a moment of change.

Chapter 17

"And you haven't seen her since?" Sam asked, looking up from his salad.

Bella shook her head, taking a sip from her soda. "It doesn't make sense. Why would some random spirit tell me I could save you? How would she even know about your deal?"

"I wouldn't worry too much about it," Dean said between mouthfuls of his bacon cheeseburger. "Demons talk. She probably heard about it from some evil scum that just got out of Hell." He raised an eyebrow, a grin stretching across his face. "What can I say? You snag a prize like Dean Winchester's soul, word's gonna travel fast."

Glaring, Bella crumbled up her napkin and threw it at him. "I'm glad you think it's funny."

He leaned across the table toward her, his face turning serious. "Just think about it for a minute. Spirits always want something, right? Of course she'd say that you could save me. I bet if she stuck around, she'd tell you exactly how … once you did whatever it is she wants you to do."

Frowning slightly, Bella knew there was truth in what Dean was saying. He'd dealt with a lot more spirits than she had and he knew how they operated. She still couldn't shake the feeling that not only did this spirit knew how to help, she wanted to help.

"Hey, if it makes you feel better, we'll look into it," Sam offered.

Bella shrugged. "If she's a ghost, it's pointless. She could have died anytime, anywhere." She shook her head. "Dean's right. It's probably nothing." Looking down at her watch, Bella pushed her chair back and stood up from the table. "I should get back. Thanks for lunch." She paused by Dean's side and bent down to give him a kiss on the cheek.

He smiled but it didn't quite shine through to his eyes.

"See you later?" Her voice was hopeful, making her vulnerable, and she hated it. Bella could already tell Dean was trying to distance himself from her, but she held on for dear life. That was why she was so determined to get to the bottom of this mysterious spirit business. Time was running out and she needed any help she could get.

Dean gave her a curt nod. Bella walked away from the outdoor patio table toward the Sheriff's office. While the weather was still nice, she had taken a liking to eating lunch outside. When Sam and Dean surprised her with a chicken Caesar wrap and a diet coke, she jumped at the chance for a small reprieve from her workload. Since she got back from Baltimore, she'd buried herself in cold cases. No surprise there. She had spent too many hours trying to make sense of the encounter with the strangely familiar woman in the clearing during the Detective Sheridan debacle. She needed something to take her mind off the obvious: Dean's clock was ticking.

She got back to her desk and plopped down, letting out a sigh as she eyeballed the large stack of files. That was really the last thing she wanted to do, but until she found a lead on the spirit that had approached her, she didn't really have a choice. Sam and Dean might not have thought it was anything, but something deep in her bones told her this was the key to saving Dean.

Sam and Dean watched Bella enter the building and then turned to face each other. "You know, maybe the ghost does know something. What if it's a hunter Dad knew? Maybe they can't crossover until they help us."

Dean grumbled. "What are the odds of that? When have we ever caught a break? You want me to believe after months of searching for a way out, all of a sudden there's some kind of divine intervention. Highly doubtful."

"You don't even want to try and find out who the ghost is, do you?" Sam frowned, his eyebrows knitting together.

"No, Sammy, I don't." He narrowed his eyes. "The last thing I need is to worry about Bella poking her nose into things and getting herself in a bind … one that I won't be around to help her out of. Is enjoying what little time I have left too much to ask?"

Sam quickly changed the subject, not wanting to dwell on the inevitable. "So when do you plan on telling her about the new case? You know she's going to flip."

"Tonight."

~o~

Bella put the key in the lock and sighed. The light on the front step wasn't on, which meant Dean wasn't there waiting for her. They were at a standstill in their relationship, if she could even call it that. She and Dean acted like they were together, affectionate glances and the occasional PDA, but they never discussed what they were or weren't after the first night they spent together.

To have any type of relationship, Bella knew they needed the one thing they lacked. Honesty. Edward always felt the need to hide things from her for her own safety, and now Dean was doing the same thing. Cases would come up that he and Sam would just take care of on their own. Sometimes they wouldn't even bother telling her until after it was finished. Bella was intuitive enough to know what Dean was doing. He was pushing her away; she just didn't know if it was for his sake or hers. What was so hard about telling her he was scared? That he didn't want to die? Why couldn't he ask her for help?

Dean wasn't the only one to blame. Bella wasn't exactly being honest either. She refused to say the words she felt deep in her soul. She loved Dean Winchester. The minute she met Dean, she knew he'd be her sweetest downfall. He had hands that could rip her apart and a face that jump-started her broken heart. And his eyes … they were always a warning.

She pushed open the door and gasped when she took in the state of her living room. A soft glow of tea lights scattered throughout the room illuminated a trail of Hershey's kisses. She slowly took off her jacket, looking around in awe. A cold Heineken, which still had frost on the glass bottle, sat on top of the bar. She picked it up and brought it to her lips, smiling as she took a sip. Maybe he does listen, she thought to herself as she recalled a conversation where she'd told him she wasn't a wine and roses type of girl, but didn't mind grand gesture every now and then. Chocolate and beer—a surefire way to her heart, or her bed at the very least, she'd said.

A bitter taste suddenly filled her mouth and it wasn't from the skunky beer. Why did Dean feel like she needed a grand gesture … now? Had time slipped by unnoticed? Shaking her head, she knew that wasn't a possibility. The silent ticking of Dean's clock mirrored every beat of her heart. If time had run out, she'd feel it. He still had a few months left before it was time to cash in on his deal. She still had time to save him. Her hands went numb and her tongue felt thick. Shaking her hands out, trying to get rid of the tingling and uneasiness in her stomach, she moved toward the couch. She gripped her knees and took a few quick breaths.

Was he finally going to push her away once and for all? Why all the fuss? Something to soften the blow, fill that hole in her chest with chocolate she'd rather choke on?

Her gaze met a package wrapped in thick brown paper on the coffee table. She leaned forward and picked it up. It was heavier than it looked and she hefted it onto her lap, pausing on whether to open it or not. Curiosity, or maybe the fact that Dean was most likely waiting for her in the bedroom, got the better of her and she tore it open.

The Complete Short Stories of Ernest Hemingway.

She felt her lips slide into an easy smile as she remembered the night Dean met her at the local watering hole after she got out of work.

"Who brings a book to a bar?" he said, knocking the book from her hands.

The worn and tattered book fell face-up on the bar. "Hemingway?" Dean raised his eyebrows and scratched his head. "Wasn't he an alcoholic asshole?"

Bella's heart stuttered in her chest simply because Dean knew Hemingway. Smirking that wicked smirk that made his dick hard, she replied, "Apparently I have a thing for alcoholic assholes."

The air was heavy with smoke and sexual tension. Bella tossed off her brown leather jacket, revealing a tight, white tank top. Her bright red bra straps slipped down her narrow shoulders as she strutted over to the beat-up jukebox. Dean licked the tip of his thumb, feeling himself stiffen in his pants watching her lithe body walk across the room. Leaning over the music machine, Bella rested her forearms on the glass, her back slightly curved causing her shirt to ride up and reveal a creamy sliver of skin. The dark fitted jeans only accentuated the roundness of her ass, and Dean felt his fingers twitch at the thought of sinking them into that smooth flesh. Bella rocked on her feet, her head dizzy with whiskey and the physical ache for Dean, and fumbled through the songs until she found one she could sway her hips to.

The floor was crowded with drunken locals, and there wasn't much room to move, but she didn't care. She ran her hands through her hair, dark, loose waves falling down her back. As she shook her ass to the beat, her eyes never left Dean's gaze. Some guys took notice and started to dance with her. She wasn't really engaging with them, but she wasn't pushing them away either. Dean felt the growl rising in his chest, and before he had a chance to release it, he tossed back his glass of Jack and stalked over to Bella.

In a rough grab, he crushed Bella to his chest and ground his hips against her. "Who you puttin' the show on for, sweetheart?"

Their faces were so close Dean could feel the smile in her lips as she spoke a heady whisper. "I just felt like dancing."

Dean's hungry green eyes darkened with lust. "You think those guys can break you down like I can? Think they can fuck you to oblivion? That point where that pretty little head of yours stops thinking about the what ifs or the when and those pouty lips of yours can't even fathom words because your body is so spent."

They'd left the bar that night with a burn deep in their souls that rivaled the whiskey. That same burn had returned when she tried to figure out the meaning behind the book. The night they'd shared after the bar was at the top of Bella's Life-altering Moments list. Raw animalistic passion had quickly morphed into something more. Dean had kept his promise. The way he drowned her in pleasure made her forget all about the what ifs and when. He was there in the moment—living, breathing, feeling with her; their connection so demanding it made her weak, their love too big for words.

Was the book his way of telling her what she was unable to say?

She rested the book back on the coffee table and got up from the couch with a smile. Skimming her fingers along the wall, she made her way to the bedroom with purposeful strides. The door was cracked and she pushed it open.

Leaning against the doorjamb, she shook her head and laughed. In all his bare-chested glory, Dean was posing on her bed, propped up on one elbow, giving her his best come hither stare.

"Oh my God! You can't be serious."

Dean pursed his lips and leaned forward, his trademark Blue Steel look plastered on his face.

Bella took a step into the room, her smile shining bright. "Who do you think you are, Burt Reynolds?"

"Hey, don't dis The Bandit." He sat up as Bella approached the bed.

Her thighs hit the edge of the mattress and Dean reached out for her hands and took them in his own, brushing the pads of his thumbs along her delicate skin. She blushed at the intimate gesture.

"Thanks…" she looked around the room taking in more tea lights and a beautiful arrangement of light pink and red peonies "…for all of this."

Something was definitely up, but Bella wasn't going to let it sour the moment. The flowers, her favorite band playing from the iPod dock on her dresser, the book, it all told her that he cared.

"So what did Charlie say when you asked him about my favorite flower?" Bella asked with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

"He told me I better not be seducing his daughter with those flowers. I said that's what the beer and chocolate were for."

Climbing on the bed, Bella straddled Dean's lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Are you? Seducing me …"

He let out a hearty laugh and squeezed her ass cheeks. "Oh, sweetheart, don't you think we're past the seduction portion of our relationship?"

She stilled his hands behind her back, her eyebrows knitting together. "Is that what this is, Dean?"

Dean huffed and pulled away, shaking his head. "Why do you have to do that?"

Bella's eyes widened, her mouth falling open. "Do what? You're the one that called it a relationship." She stressed the last word as her back muscles stiffened.

"I was trying to …" Dean scooted to the edge of the bed and bent down to retrieve his pants. He stood up to button them as he turned around. "Look, there's not much I can give you … but this … it's all I got. I'm not going to have you tie yourself to someone that won't be here in six months."

"We're going to find a way to get you—"

He tossed his black T-shirt over his head and walked around the bed to face Bella, his clear green eyes piercing her heart. "No …" His voice was gruff, final. "You won't."

Squeezing her hands into fists, Bella started to vibrate with rage. She was about to tell him off, but he came over and took her face in his hands. "I care about you, Bella. Hell, I might even love you if I weren't so screwed up."

Her breath hitched in her chest as her body went slack and she dropped her hands to her sides. Dean carefully closed her gaping mouth by a gentle brush of his thumb. "There's only one way this is going to end, sweetheart, and it aint pretty. Just let me have this … let me show you the only way this fucked up hunter knows how …"

She swallowed thickly, her unshed tears burning her throat. "So in your typical self-sacrificing fashion?" she asked with a watery laugh.

He jutted his chin out with a confident nod. "Yeah, pretty much."

Bella pushed him away to an arm's length and narrowed her eyes at him. "You know I'm not just leaving it at that, right? You know I'm not going to give up until I find …"

Dean silenced Bella with a kiss and then hugged her tightly to his chest, resting his chin on top of her head. Feeling her in his arms, he almost fell apart. Why is my job to save all these people, he thought. Why do I have to be some kind of hero? The only person that mattered was right in front of him and he couldn't even tell her he loved her. How the hell was he supposed to save her? He felt a tear trickle down his cheek and quickly ducked his head, pulling away.

"I gotta go."


E/N – Poor Dean. Any ideas what the next job could be? Even if I don't respond to your reviews, each one gets me more excited than that little dialogue Dean shared with Bella in the bar. *fans self*