A/N: Okay, I know I said this was to be the last chapter, but it got too long and things got busy and I just couldn't get it finished! Sorry it's been over a week since the last post but I'm still a couple of days away from finishing so I am going to post what I have now (it's still pretty long) and will post the ending soon as an epilogue.
Previously: "Dean!" came a familiar voice, shouted from downstairs but Dean barely heard it as he stared at the horrific scene in front of him.
Fuck, the hunter thought despondently, unable to care that the cavalry was here. Why couldn't Sam have come two minutes sooner?
CHAPTER 31
Diego's head jerked up at the sound of Sam's voice. "Lemme guess," he said dryly. "The other brother."
His words didn't register in Dean's mind for the hunter was still staring at Tasha, desperate to find some sign she was still alive but seeing none. She was so still. The shock and horror were giving way to emptiness; a hollow, gutted feeling that was ripping him apart from the inside out.
Diego shoved the brunette's leg off him and stood up. Dean finally managed to tear his eyes off Tasha when his brother's voice sounded again, a lot closer this time. "Dean!"
"In here!" he answered, surprised at the strength in his own voice, a strength he didn't feel at the moment. He was rewarded with a sharp glare from Diego.
"I'd love to stay and kill both you and your brother," the vampire said icily, "But apparently you've got friends in high places." He pointed upwards at the word 'high'. "So I think I'll just take my leave."
He started towards the exit but stopped short when the large bulk of Sam Winchester filled the doorway at the far end of the room.
"In here!" Sam yelled over his shoulder to someone behind him before taking a few steps into the room, machete held offensively in front of him. Dean was watching his brother's face when the younger man's eyes looked past Diego to find him and then fell on Tasha.
Sam's mouth dropped and he visibly paled at the sight of the girl lying bloodied and still on the floor. His eyes widened and he froze, shock and deep hurt painted across his expressive features. Bobby appeared next to him, also wielding a machete, and although his eyes scanned the entire scene too, he didn't falter; he simply lunged at Diego with the long curved blade held high.
Sam thought he was prepared, thought he had accepted that they would likely find Tasha dead, thought he was ready for it. But the sight of her lying there on the floor, half naked, unmoving, and covered in bloody wounds had torn savagely at his heart and knotted his insides past the point of being able to think, of being able to move. The crippling pain of loss, like that he had felt seeing Jessica burning on the ceiling, seized a hold of him. He became aware of Bobby beside him but it wasn't until the older man pushed past him and charged the dark-haired vampire that Sam snapped his attention back to the situation.
Diego. He turned to get a good look at the vampire. That was Diego. That bastard had killed Tasha. Shit, from what he could see, he'd killed Tasha right in front of Dean. The grief and pain that were spilling from his heart retracted, replaced instantly by a flood of anger. Rage, hatred, revenge. Sam had been living these things for months, years even because before Lilith there had been Yellow Eyes. His eyes narrowed, his fist clenched tightly around the handle of the machete, and he moved to follow Bobby.
Bobby, however, was suddenly flying backwards past him. Diego simply held his hand out, chanted some unrecognizable words, and the stocky junkyard owner tumbled backwards, clumsily rolling across the floor into the wall with a loud thud.
Shit, Sam thought. He'd forgotten the bastard was a witch as well. This could prove to be a difficult fight, he realized, but one he wasn't going to back down from. This asshole wasn't leaving this room alive. His two and a half thousand years were up.
He lunged forward as Bobby had done, aware of the vampire's outstretched hand now aimed at him. Diego muttered the same words he had at Bobby and Sam braced for the invisible force to hit him but nothing came. He wondered briefly if Diego hadn't thrown the mojo his way but the look of surprise and alarm on the vampire's face told him he had.
It didn't work on him. Just like Lilith's mojo. He was immune!
He gave the vampire a threatening smirk and charged forward again, machete sweeping down at him. Diego dodged the swing and tried the throwing spell again at Sam, still with no effect. He grimaced with obvious frustration but recovered quickly and instead of waiting for Sam to charge again, he lunged at the hunter, knocking the swinging machete out of the arc aimed at his neck and landing a hard punch to Sam's stomach.
Dean had seen Sam's eyes darken, his grief turn so quickly to anger, but it wasn't until Diego's second attempt at mojo-throwing his brother that he realized it wasn't working on Sam like it had worked on Bobby. He watched the vampire attack Sam and the two fell into a deadly, violent fight in the middle of the hardwood floored studio. He felt worry and fear for his brother but it seemed surreal, almost like it was happening somewhere else. His attention couldn't focus on anything past Tasha's still form lying a foot away from him. He was vaguely aware of a pulling at his shackles and didn't realize Bobby was behind him until he heard a gunshot ring out and his arms sprang free, ten inches of chain still hanging from one of his iron-clad wrists.
He practically fell forward, his hands reaching for Tasha, cupping her cheek and turning her face towards his. "Tash," he whispered, bending down over her as two fingers slipped down to her neck to search for a pulse. He didn't expect to find one. "Shit, No. No. I'm so sorry."
But there it was. It was faint but it was definitely a pulse. His hand slid down to rest over her heart and his own skipped a beat when he felt the faint double thump. "Oh God, you're alive," he rasped, completely unaware a tear had finally broken free and was making its way down his cheek. He pressed a quick kiss to her forehead. "Hang on babe," he breathed as he lowered her head back down to the floor.
And just like that he was back in hunter mode, his head snapping up to see Bobby running back towards the fight between Sam and Diego. Just as Sam took a hard hit and slammed backwards into the wall, the older hunter fired his gun at the vampire repeatedly, earning himself an angry sneer.
"Guns don't work on vampires, you fool," he spat.
"Well they don' exactly tickle when the bullets 'r coated in dead man's blood," Bobby shot back.
Diego just laughed, his eyes tracking Dean as the hunter stood up and stepped over Tasha. "I'm twenty-five hundred years old," he replied smugly. "Your hunter tricks don't work on the likes of me. I get my power from blood; a little coagulation isn't going to hurt me."
Dean picked up his machete that had been dumped with his jacket a few feet away from the post he had been shackled to and took an offensive stance next to Bobby.
"Three against one, asshole," Sam chimed in, pushing himself up stiffly from the wall. The three hunters fanned out, forming a half circle around Diego, blades in their hands.
It was disconcerting how unworried the vampire looked. "You're forgetting I can take two of you out without lifting a finger," he reminded them, waving his hand between Dean and Bobby. "Well," he corrected with a snicker. "Maybe one finger." He muttered the words again and the two of them tumbled backwards, both slamming hard into the floor. Dean rolled sideways to avoid hitting Tasha.
"I'm still here," Sam hissed, moving closer.
Diego smirked at him. "I think it's obvious whose going to win that fight."
It was true and Sam knew it. He had taken several hard hits and had yet to land one decent one on the much stronger, much faster opponent. Machete or no machete, he was outmatched. He didn't care. This bastard had killed Tasha.
"You're just one hunter," Diego continued. "I've just destroyed an entire bloodline of hunters," he gloated, tilting his head towards Tasha on the floor.
Dean was back on his feet, the throbbing shoulder from his latest tumble bristling his anger even further. "Guess what, Senorita," he spat. "You failed. She's still alive. So you're going down without ever finishing the job. The Montoyas win."
From the corner of his eye, Dean saw Sam's face when he announced Tasha was alive. He heard the gasp and saw his brother's scowl relax, the pure hatred dissipating slightly.
Diego, on the other hand, tensed, turning his head sharply to narrow his eyes at Dean. "She's still alive?" he seethed, clearly furious at the girl's apparent perseverance. "Fucking Montoya cockroach! Why the fuck can't she just die like a normal person!"
Dean lunged quickly, not wanting to give the vamp enough time to throw him again. He got in close, past the outstretched arm and rammed his machete upwards towards the exposed throat. Diego twisted away just in time and punched him hard. Dean reeled backwards but Bobby stepped in to take his place, managing to slice Diego across the shoulder before he, too was knocked backwards.
Sam moved in while the vampire was extended from his blow to Bobby, hacking away with the machete and slicing a few deep cuts in his arm and his side but they were all skillfully deflected from the only fatal spot, his neck. Diego eventually managed to knock the machete out of Sam's hands and struck him across the face with his uninjured arm.
Sam was slammed to the floor but as he struggled to get back up, Dean and Bobby were already advancing on the wounded vampire, coming at him from opposite directions in hopes he could only mojo one at a time.
The three hunters worked well together, anticipating each other's moves easily from years of fighting at each other's sides. Things weren't looking good for Diego and, by the furious but fearful look now displayed on his face, the vampire knew it. He spun towards Dean and threw his arms outwards, this time shouting the foreign spell words loudly. Dean braced for the invisible blow but it never came. He heard Sam shout "No!" and it took him a fraction of a second to realize his brother wasn't looking at him but at something behind him, eyes wide in horror.
Tasha. Tasha was behind him. He spun just in time to see her hit the mirrored wall, crashing through it and hammering through the drywall behind it six feet above the floor. It smashed into a thousand pieces and shards fell everywhere, dropping to the ground at the same time she did and bouncing all around her as they landed, a musical medley compared to the single, heavy thud she made.
"No Montoya will outlive me!" Diego yelled triumphantly.
Dean didn't hesitate or falter. He didn't wait to see if she was alright or if she was even still breathing. He simply turned back around and charged while the vamp was distracted. His crude blade swung fiercely in a smooth sideways arc and found purchase in the vampire's neck, slicing its way across the front about halfway deep.
Diego couldn't scream with his throat severed but a gargling sound escaped him as he fell to his knees. Dean brought his machete around and rammed it into the bleeding man's chest, pushing until the vampire toppled over and landed on his back on the floor. Dean didn't let go of the blade's handle; instead he gripped it with two hands and pushed it deeper until he felt the tip sink into the hardwood floor below.
"That's for Tasha," he practically spat in the vampire's face, which was twisted with pain and fear. Dean yanked the blade back out and raised it over his head. "And this is for the rest of her family, you son of a bitch!" he proclaimed, swinging it downward on what was left of Diego's neck, watching as the head rolled away, eyes bulging open and leaving a trail of spurting blood as it went.
The room fell silent and Dean spared only the briefest of glances towards Bobby and Sam before racing back to Tasha, dropping his bloody blade and falling to his knees among the broken shards of glass. "Tash!" he called nervously, cursing himself for letting Diego know she was still alive. He scooped her head onto his lap and pressed his fingers to her neck, again feeling for a pulse. The move proved unnecessary, however, because she gave a light moan at his touch and her eyes fluttered open.
"Oh thank God," relief swept over him. "You're awake. Are you okay?"
She didn't answer, her eyes shifting in and out of focus as she struggled to look at him.
"Tash?" He lowered his head towards hers, pulling her closer as he did so. "You gotta tell me where it hurts babe."
"Dean," was all she said, her voice barely more than a whisper accompanied by a faint wheeze from her throat. The word was followed by a shudder and a gargling, wet-sounding cough that spilled blood from her mouth.
"Oh shit," Dean cursed, his relief short-lived. He wiped the line of blood trickling down her chin away with his hand. "Tash?"
She had hit the wall hard with no raised arms or hands for defense; there was no end to the possible injuries she could have. Broken bones - ribs or even spine - or worse, internal injuries. This was way past him. He looked up, his desperate eyes searching out the older hunter with years of medical experience treating all manner of wounded hunters.
"Bobby," he rasped, his voice pleading. "I need your help."
Bobby was on his knees in a heartbeat, next to Dean and leaning over the girl. She was conscious, her soft eyes not even seeing him as she stared intently up at Dean. Bobby put his head down to her chest and listened for a moment while two oil-stained fingers pressed lightly in various spots around her chest and side. Finally he sat up, rocking back on his haunches.
"Call an ambulance," he said solemnly to Sam before looking back to Dean.
"She's gonna be okay, right Bobby?" Dean asked, needing reassurance from his old friend.
He didn't get it. "Hear that gurgling sound in her breathin'?" Bobby sighed. "That's blood seeping into her lungs. Pretty sure one's already collapsed. This is way beyond me." He held Dean's gaze. "She don't have long, Son."
Dean's instinct to argue was cut off by the sound of Sam on the phone, his brother's voice sounding strangely young and scared as it recited the address to the 9-1-1 operator. Instead of his planned rebuke, Dean simply tore his eyes away from Bobby and looked back down at the girl in his arms. "Hey, you hear that?" he said to her in an encouraging voice. "The ambulance is on its way; you'll be fine. You just gotta hang on a few more minutes 'till it gets here, 'kay?"
Bobby stood up and jerked his head at Sam, who was standing a few feet away with a bewildered, deer-in-the-headlights look on his face. "Get blankets," he demanded sharply. "Help me get this headless corpse in my van before the paramedics get here."
Sam looked at Bobby in silence for a second before the request registered, his mind spinning wildly with worry. Glad to have something he could be doing other than standing there gawking and feeling completely helpless, he nodded and followed the older hunter briskly out of the room.
Bobby moved fast for a guy with a stride almost half that of Sam's and beat the younger man back to the room after the pair scoured two nearby bedrooms for blankets. They quickly wrapped Diego up and Sam tried to avoid looking at Dean and Tasha as he hoisted the body up on his shoulder. Dean still had her head in his lap and was speaking softly as he leaned over her and stroked the side of her face. Sam swallowed when he heard Dean beg her to hold on, his chest thumping with worry for both his brother and Tasha. Bobby picked up the blanket-wrapped vampire head as well as the various weapons and Dean's jacket from the floor and practically shoved the tall hunter out the door and down the stairs towards the van.
They unceremoniously dumped the dead vampire and his severed head in the back of the van and Sam slammed the doors shut. "Okay, you get the body outta here," he said to Bobby. "I'll stick with Dean, make sure the medics don't call the cops on him." He turned to go back inside but Bobby grabbed his sleeve, tugging at him from behind.
"Give it a few minutes," the older hunter said.
"What?"
"She's got blood in her lungs, Sam. She's bleeding internally."
"But the ambulance will be here soon," Sam replied, not understanding his friend's point.
"It won't be here soon enough," Bobby said with a shake of his head. "When I said she didn't have much time, I meant she had maybe a minute or two. The closest hospital is at best seven or eight minutes away at this time of day. She ain't gonna make it, Son."
Sam just stared at him, what he was saying sinking in slowly, his heart twisting in a knot as much for Dean as for Tasha.
"Let your brother say his goodbyes in peace," Bobby added softly, his face suddenly looking weary beyond its years.
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"Just a few minutes, babe," Dean said encouragingly, as much for his sake as hers. "You gotta hang on." Her head was nestled in his lap and his arms wrapped around her, holding her as close as he dared without shifting her torso and possibly worsening her internal wounds. He had heard Bobby's assessment but refused to believe she wouldn't make it. Tash had held out through three days of Diego's torture, surely she had a few more minutes in her.
She sucked in a raspy, hitched breath, wincing as she did so. Her hand moved to her chest and reached across for his. She let out a gargled moan of obvious pain and Dean's fear spiked. He clasped her hand and kissed her forehead again.
"Please, Tash," he begged. "Please hang on. I really can't do this without you. I need you, babe. You gotta hang on." It was the truth but his motivation for saying so was the knowledge that she would try with everything she had to do as he asked because it was him asking.
Her mouth moved but nothing but a faint gargle escaped. Her eyes were still locked on Dean's and he smiled down at her. "Don't try to talk," he told her, panic rising when her eyes closed. "Hey, stay awake, stay with me," he pleaded.
She managed to open them again but it was obvious it took a great effort. Her shallow breathing was growing shallower and more blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.
Bobby's words haunted him. She don't have long, Son. Where the fuck was that ambulance?
Hadn't he just gone through this ten minutes ago? he cursed. At least this time he could hold her, though he felt every bit as helpless as when he had been chained to the post. The situation was beginning to feel eerily familiar to Dean for another reason also, the memory of Sam dying at Cold Oaks flashing in his mind. How he had held his baby brother in his arms and felt the life slip out of him, his own will to live being all but extinguished with it.
"Stay with me, huh?" he repeated, his voice cracking. She gave him a slight nod, struggling to keep her eyes focused on him. "Diego's dead," he told her, hoping for a reaction but not getting one. "He's never gonna hurt you again." She blinked slowly, her eyes still fixed on his. "Oh, and I got you a new car," he rambled, needing to talk, to say anything to keep her attention and keep her awake. "It's sweet, babe; you're gonna love it. It's red, just the way you like." He smiled but his facade faltered when she closed her eyes again and a panicked sob escaped him. "Tash?" Her light grip on his hand fell away. "Oh fuck…Tash? Please…"
He was so focused on the dying girl in his arms he didn't see the figure in the beige trench coat appear suddenly just five feet away. The man turned his head sharply sideways to look down at the pair on the floor before stepping swiftly over to them. He bent down and pressed two fingers to the girl's forehead.
Dean jumped at the arm that appeared in front of him, his head snapping up at the intrusion. "Cas!" he cried hoarsely, his voice almost failing him through the tidal wave of emotion he was feeling. "Cas," he repeated, unable to say anything else as his mind spun while he tried to absorb what was happening.
The angel had touched Tasha's forehead for just a few seconds before straightening up stiffly. Dean looked back down at her and saw the deep gashes on her cheek were gone. His eyes roamed over her torso and down to her legs. The streaks of dried blood were still there but the bite marks and the cuts were all gone. She was breathing deeply and her eyes sprang open.
"Oh shit," he half laughed, half cried, his eyes wide with disbelief. "Cas, you healed her!" He caught Tasha's eyes, his hands now cupping her face. She looked bewildered and confused, gasping and gripping his arm tightly.
"Are you okay?" he gushed, trying to restrain himself from smothering her in kisses.
She glanced warily up at the man standing by Dean before nodding and attempting to sit up, fisting the front of Dean's shirt. "Dean?" she said simply, sounding unsure.
Dean pulled her upright quickly and drew her tightly to his chest, wrapping his arms around her and burying his face in her hair. She returned the hug with equal urgency, her breath hot on his neck. They stayed that way for a long moment, everything around them forgotten.
"I thought I'd lost you," he breathed finally, not loosening his hold on her.
"I think you almost did," she answered, pulling back just enough to rest her forehead against his. "I don't understand. What's going on?"
Dean distanced himself enough to twist around on his knees and looked up at the angel. "I don't know," he answered more loudly. "What is going on, Cas?" he asked him. "Not that I'm complaining," he added quickly, his arm still around Tasha's shoulders. "But why'd you do that?"
The angel was still standing next to him looking slightly impatient. "I'll explain later," he said gravely. "You should go; there are others on the way."
"Cas?" Tasha repeated with a belated gasp, staring up at the blue-eyed man in the trench coat. "The angel?"
"Yes," Cas answered seriously with a slight nod.
"Others?" Dean questioned, getting to his feet and helping Tasha up without once letting go of her. "Other angels?"
"No. Humans."
"Shit," realization hit Dean. "The ambulance."
"Yes," Cas said simply before disappearing in a blink.
"Woah."
Dean couldn't help but smile at Tasha's awestruck expression as she stared at the empty space the angel had just occupied. "Woah?" he mimicked, grinning at her. "You get your first glimpse of one of God's most heavenly creatures and you come out with woah?"
She smiled back at him. "Fucking woah," she said.
He laughed and pulled her into another hug, unable to help himself. As much as he wanted to stay that way, however, he realized they had to go if they were to have any chance of dodging the paramedics. "We gotta get going," he told her, starting to pull away before it dawned on him she was standing barefoot in a sea of broken glass. He turned back quickly and scooped her up in his arms to carry her over the shards of broken mirror, almost reluctant to put her back down.
"Aww, aren't you chivalrous," she grinned as he lowered her gently to the floor.
"Don't get used to it," he smirked, grabbing her hand briskly and moving towards the door.
He walked hurriedly, towing her behind him along the hallway and down the grand staircase. "Bobby and Sam will probably still be outside," he told her as they reached the main foyer.
"Bobby?" She stopped, tugging back at his arm. He turned to look at her, eyebrow raised in question.
She gave him a sheepish look, glancing down at herself. Her shirt barely reached the curve of her waist, not that it was covering much anyway since it was torn open. Her entire body was still streaked with dried blood. "I'm not decent," she said apologetically.
Dean rolled his eyes, his lips still curled up in a smile that seemed glued to his face. He shrugged himself out of his outer shirt and handed it to her before reaching for the door. "I'll check it out," he told her, stepping outside as she slipped her slim arms into the oversized sleeves.
It was dark outside but Dean had to squint in the bright headlights of Bobby's van as soon as he stepped out the door. In his haste to get inside upon his arrival, the older hunter had apparently driven through the gate and pulled right up to the stone patio of the house. Dean took a few steps across the patio looking for his friend or his brother to warn them to get going before the paramedics showed. He practically ran into Sam, who was just coming around the van at the sound of the door opening.
Momentarily forgetting Sam didn't know Tasha was alive, Dean was surprised to see tears running freely down the young hunter's cheeks. "Dean," was all Sam said, his hazel eyes filled with grief and sympathy.
"Oh, shit, Sam," Dean blurted apologetically. "I'm sorry - she's okay."
"What?"
Dean didn't need to repeat the words because Tasha appeared behind him, just finishing buttoning up Dean's shirt and quiet clearly alive and well. "Hey Sam," she grinned.
"Tasha!" the younger Winchester exclaimed, only staring wide-eyed for the briefest of instances before stepping past his brother and burying the slim brunette in a fierce sasquatch-sized bear hug.
Dean found himself smiling as he watched his brother and Tasha hug each other closely. Surprisingly, he felt no jealousy, no resentment, no anger. In fact, he was touched by the pair's obvious affection for each other. It felt clean and just seemed … appropriate. Their fondness just seemed like it should – it felt like family.
Bobby cleared his throat loudly, not-so-subtly reminding the hunters they needed to get going. Sam pulled away, his eyes drifting to Dean. "I don't get it," he stammered. "How?"
"Cas," Dean explained simply. "He just appeared and healed her."
Bobby frowned, looking distrustful. "Thought you said the angels were dicks," he said.
Dean took a hold of Tasha's hand again, completely unaware of his own action. "Maybe not complete dicks," he shrugged.
The wail of sirens sounded from down the street, causing all four hunters to spring into action. "We'll take my car," Dean said quickly, pulling Tasha towards the side yard where he had parked his car on the street. "Get going, quick!" he called back to Sam and Bobby.
His ushering for speed wasn't needed because Bobby was already running around the front of the van to get into the driver's door and Sam was heaving the passenger side open. By the time Dean and Tasha reached the far wall, Bobby's van was pulling out onto the road in the opposite direction of the ambulance.
Making quick work of scaling the wall, Dean and Tasha reached the Impala just as the ambulance pulled up to the house. The classic car roared to life and they drove away, melting into the traffic on the busy highway at the first exit out of the residential area.
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Tasha was quiet as they drove, curling up in the passenger seat and leaning against the side door. Dean couldn't stop stealing long looks in her direction as he maneuvered the busy city traffic and found her eyes fixed on him with every sideways glance.
"Whacha thinkin'?" he asked, still unable to wipe the smile off his face.
She grinned. "I was thinking you should wear just a t-shirt more often. Shows off those nice biceps of yours."
"And you should wear just my shirt more often," he teased back, raising a suggestive eyebrow at her.
She laughed out loud, ending with a snort at the outlandish flirt. Her hair was tangled and matted with blood and her skin was streaked and filthy but Dean couldn't help thinking she still looked beautiful. Alive and beautiful.
They drove in silence another minute before she spoke again. "I can't believe he's dead," she said quietly, looking out her window at the night traffic. Dean didn't need to ask who she was talking about. "I mean, it's over. No more looking over my shoulder. I feel … I dunno what I feel. I guess it's still sinking in." She looked back at him. "How'd he die?"
"I chopped his head off," Dean told her matter-of-factly. "And don't worry, I told him it was for your family."
"My hero." The words were said sincerely. Dean didn't answer, the comment making him uncomfortable. A hero was something he certainly wasn't.
"I thought your life was supposed to flash before your eyes when you're about to die," she said after another pause. "That didn't happen."
Dean shook his head. "Didn't happen for me either," he admitted, surprising himself at how easily he was falling back into his old pattern of sharing things so easily with her. "I was just thinking 'shit, that hurts' and 'damnit, I didn't want Sam to see this'."
She pushed herself off the passenger door and slid across the seat towards him, sidling herself up next to him and resting her head against his arm as he drove.
"So what was going through that beautiful head of yours then?" he urged, not minding the contact in the least.
"Hmph," she snorted softly at the compliment, smoothening down her matted hair with her hand. "Did anyone ever tell you that being dead for four months made you sweeter?"
Dean just leaned down and kissed the top of her head as he steered the car down the exit nearest the motel. She curled herself in even closer to his side in response.
"You wanna know what was going through my head right before…?" she answered finally, not finishing the sentence. "I was just thinking how glad I was that I got to see you one more time."
Dean swallowed, his head spinning suddenly with the emotional toll the last three days had taken on him; the horror of nearly losing her – twice - and the intense awareness he had of her closeness right now.
"Oh fuck this," he said, yanking the wheel and guiding the car quickly onto the shoulder of the road. He threw it in park and turned towards Tasha, cupping her face in his hands and crashing his mouth against hers.
She reacted almost instantly, her lips parting and practically drawing his tongue inside. She let out a soft moan and leaned into him, her hands moving up to press against his chest. The kiss quickly became hungry and heated as his mouth devoured hers, his fingers twisting in her hair and her leg sliding up and over his knee.
It was just as he remembered it and it was overwhelming. She filled his every sense as his tongue danced with hers, those tiny, familiar whispers of moans begging him for more. It had been so long yet he suddenly felt as if he had never left, as if he hadn't spent decades away from her, screaming in the pits of Hell. His hands roved down to her waist and he pulled her onto his lap, his mouth never leaving hers. She tugged at his short spikes and ran her hands down around the back of his neck, her bare legs straddling his right jean-clad thigh.
A car's horn blared and a jeering shout sounded outside as a car sped past, some floppy-haired punk leaning out the passenger window. Dean reluctantly pulled back with a grin, breathing heavily as he brought his hands to Tasha's cheeks.
"Is it just me or do you taste like apple pie?" he laughed.
"Apple danish," she answered him with a smile, not in the least embarrassed at getting mocked by passers-by. "Diego kept feeding me Dunkin Donuts."
At the mention of the vampire and her recent ordeal, the smile faded from Dean's face and sighed as he rested his forehead against hers. "We should get back to the motel," he said finally, his hands gliding down to rest on her waist again. "Sam and Bobby'll be getting worried."
She nodded, giving him a soft, lingering kiss on the mouth before sliding off him onto the seat next to him. He pulled back onto the road gently, the fingers of his right hand curling around those of her left in the small gap between them.
"So did I hear right?" she asked, giving him a quizzical look. "Did you say you got me a new car?"
A wide grin spread over Dean's face. "Yep," he nodded. "A 1970 Dodge Challenger. Roar's gonna paint it red for you."
"Roar? The biker?" Her eyes widened as a thought clearly struck her. "Did you get rid of the ghostbike?"
"Yeah," Dean nodded. "Dirt's toast."
Her eyes narrowed at Dean, though still filled with the sparkle of mirth. "Why would you get me a car? What's wrong with my Fiero? It's a decent ride."
"Uh…" Dean stammered, "Well, about that … uh … Roar kinda trashed it."
"Trashed my car?"
"Trashed it and burned it," Dean nodded apologetically, deciding letting Roar take the blame couldn't do any harm. "And had to abandon it on the road so since you had it registered you're gonna have to ditch the Natasha Dunn name too." He gave her a sheepish look. "In Roar's defense, Dirt was chasing us with his T1000 Robobike."
She pulled her face into a puzzled frown as she looked at him. "So you and Roar were cruising around in my Fiero?" A giggle escaped her at the image and she squeezed his hand. "Did you two have the top down and Corey Hart cranked on the radio?"
Dean tolerated the teasing for the remainder of the short drive to the motel, enjoying the cheery tone of her voice and the warm feeling it was giving him. Bobby's van wasn't there yet, even though it had left the house before the Impala and it took Dean a moment to realize the mechanic and Sam had probably stopped off somewhere to bury the vampire's body.
As soon as they entered the room, Tasha announced she was taking a well-needed shower. Dean refrained from asking to come in with her, deciding she probably needed a few moments alone. He also knew what would happen if he joined her and as much as he wanted to, the thought made him surprisingly nervous. She paused at the bathroom door and looked back at him. "Why did the angel heal me?" she asked quietly.
Dean shrugged. "I don't know," he admitted. "But next time I see him I might just hafta plant a big sloppy wet one on him for doing it."
His joking comment got the desired response for Tasha laughed a full, shoulder-shaking laugh that was music to the hunter's ears before continuing into the bathroom and closing the door with a soft click. Alone in the room, Dean exhaled loudly and rolled his stiff shoulders. Between the car accident with Roar, the fight with his men, and the fight with Diego, he was feeling sore everywhere. "Nerdy son of a bitch could have healed me too," he griped before getting to work removing the remains of the shackles he still had on his wrists.
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A/N: I was surprised that so many of you really thought Tasha might be dead and I can't thank you all enough for your wonderful reviews! I will admit, I LOVE a good tragedy and did at one point consider killing Tasha off to stay canon, but I have a sequel in mind for this story so I am keeping her alive. Tasha won't be a big character in the sequel like she is here as it focuses more on the brothers and Cas (and no, she won't be sleeping with Cas - lol), but I hope you enjoyed this one enough to tune in for that one too! There will be an epilogue for this story coming up that wraps it up and sets up the next one. As usual, thanks to everyone for reading - 72 alerts and 64 faves is so incredibly flattering and I just love all of you guys for making this SOOOOO much fun for me to write! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and the epilogue to come! *hugs*