D:

i've been feeling off for days D:

i hope it hasn't affected my writing.

o0o0o0o0o0

Chapter 22: Croatoan Part 1

"How long do I have to stay bedridden?" I whined, turning down the volume of the TV.

Dean smiled slightly and poured coffee into a mug for me. "Until your leg heals."

"It feels great. Can I get up and walk around now?"

I had been bedridden for two weeks. Yeah, you heard right. I had been stuck in a bed for fourteen days. And I didn't see Dean letting up anytime soon. And okay, I was the first one to admit I had liked that he was so hell bent on taking care of me. He'd bring me coffee and food, turn the TV and go out and get me things to read. But around the seventh day, this motel room was beginning to feel like a hospital. I mean, Dean had a point and he told me this every time I asked him if I could get up, the stitches were in an odd place on my leg and if I moved a certain way I could definitely tear them open. And going through that pain again? Absolutely not.

Dean sat down on the bed next to my legs and handed me the mug, kissing my forehead. "No, not until I can pull the stitches out."

I took a sip of the coffee. "Which is when?"

He sighed and I knew he was going to look at my leg to humor me; he'd just looked at it yesterday and confirmed that maybe another week I could get the stitches removed. "Let me see."

I set the coffee mug down on the nightstand and gently pulled my leg out from underneath the covers, careful not to get the access string caught on anything. I placed my leg in his hand and he smiled, leaning down to kiss my knee.

"Hey, do what you need to do." I said smiling and he nodded, shifting my leg to bend. "Another week?" I mind read and he nodded, gently stroking my thigh.

"I'm sorry. I know I'm kind of driving you up the wall and everything. I just wanna make sure you don't get hurt again."

"Make sure my leg doesn't get hurt again or my whole entire person?" I asked, figuring there was a little bit of a different agenda to this whole bedridden thing.

"Is it so bad that I wanna protect you?" He asked softly and I cupped his cheek, stroking my thumb over his freckles. I didn't even notice, till I just did that, that he even had some on his nose.

"No. But you can't do it forever." I motioned to my leg, even though I knew that injury hadn't been his fault. "Obviously."

His eyes drifted down to my leg and he moved his face closer to my skin. He drifted his nose around my knee and leaned up to kiss my thigh. "I can try." He said softly, his hot breath soothing my skin.

He placed a couple kisses on my thigh and I jerked, laughing. "That tickles." I said and pushed him up. He was smiling all the way, like he knew my ticklish spots were there. "Where's Sam?" I asked.

"He is out getting you breakfast." Dean said, putting a strand of hair behind my ear.

"Making him work for me too?" I quipped.

Dean stood and ran a hand through his hair. "All he did was stand here, awkwardly shifting on his feet. We don't have a case so there's no research to be done." He got up and went over to pour coffee for himself and drank it black, which I thought was kind of weird. "Besides all he did was stare at you every so often and he was about to drive me to smack him upside the head."

I sighed, playing with the coin around my neck. "So the good smiles and conversation ran out a week ago huh?" I asked him and he shrugged.

"No, I didn't say anything about it. I just, kind of, sent him out of the room. Sent him to go do something."

I giggled even though what he said hadn't been funny. "Right, I'm sure he doesn't know when he's being punished for staring at me."

Dean ran a hand over his face and placed the coffee mug down. "Well, it is kind of hard isn't it?"

He grinned and came back over to the bed, crouching down at the end of it. He crawled over me, avoiding the leg with the stitches and laid himself over top of me, crushing his lips into my own. I ran my hands over his back, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath my hands. He pulled his lips back when he couldn't breathe anymore and I smiled warmly at him.

"I've missed you." He said. And it was the kind of missing that made the heart…and another body part grow stronger.

I giggled, knowing what he was taking about but kind of wanting him to say it. "I've been right here."

He moved is hands downwards, playing with the edges of his boxers that I had on. "You knew what I meant." He said softly and sultry, it reminded me of velvet.

"You couldn't have missed me that much." I countered as his chest connected with mine. I wrapped my arms around his back and held him there as he set his chin right at the top of my breasts. "You were my nurse for the past two weeks."

"Right, I was. How could you complain about that? You'd think you'd want to stay in bed with the number of sponge baths I gave you."

I smiled and kissed his forehead. "Those were definitely a plus. You gonna give me those when I'm eighty?" I asked, slightly entertained.

He picked his head up and cocked it slightly, gazing over my body. "You gonna look like this when you're eighty? Because otherwise…"

I giggled, pushing him and he chuckled. I ran a hand over his cheek and ran my fingers through his hair. He liked it, I could tell. It was cute the way he nuzzled into my hand; it reminded me of something a puppy would do.

"You think…we'll still be doing this when we're eighty?" It was half a joke and half seriousness. I mean, obviously we wouldn't be loading shotguns full of rock salt. We'd be focusing on remembering our names and figuring out how to work a catheter. But I still wanted to know if we'd be doing something like this in our fifties. I wanted to know if I should even have my hopes up for having a kid. Because I mean, Dean and I were getting older, granted neither of us were thirty yet but he was close. Sooner or later, Dean and I wouldn't be able to have children and I think that thought broke down a little piece of me each day.

He kissed the palm of my hand. "No, when you and I are eighty we will be in the coziest little nursing home that our children have put us in." I smiled warmly, even though it wasn't every eighty year olds dream to be in a nursing home. Dean's face scrunched up a moment. "For some reason I can see Sam in the back round throwing tapioca pudding at us."

I burst out in a fit of laughter and he smiled, happy to see it. Or maybe he was just entertained I thought pudding in our hair was funny. Then a thought occurred to me as I thought about what he said. "So you do…want to have kids one day?" I asked and he smiled, leaning down to leave a small kiss on my lips.

"Of course I do." He said softly and lovingly, which made my stomach tie up in all sorts of knots and crush the butterflies scurrying about. It felt like a weight off my chest because even though Dean and I had danced around the topic, we never really got into it. He leaned up and brushed a hand through his hair. "Besides, with qualities like mine? How can our kid not be incredibly attractive?"

"I'll take that as a half a compliment since it takes two, you dolt." I said with a huge grin and he smiled, taking my one arm and pulling me up and into him for a hug. I pushed my face into his shoulder and squeezed him tightly. "So are we gonna look for a case or anything soon? We can't all sit here because I'm handicapped." Dean got this weird look on his face as he pulled away and I giggled as he sprinted off the bed, looking for something in the duffel.

"What are you doing?"

"There's a coupon in here…for a free meal at Denny's if you bring an elderly person."

I threw a pillow at him, which he avoided and it hit the sink. "Dean! I'm slightly incapacitated, not dying in a wheelchair!"

"Think they'll know the difference?" He asked. The sad thing? He was totally serious. He was literally willing to walk me in there like I was an old person and try and squeeze a free meal out of it.

"That's really sad. You know that?" I said and he shrugged, shoving the coupon back in the duffel. He had a slightly disheveled look on his face and it made me want to tousle his hair. "Seriously, we need to look for a case." Dean shot me this, 'you're still in the hospital' look that made me want to scream. I groaned and shifted my legs over the side of the bed. "I'll stay in the car and everything if I have to. But you and Sam need to be out there, doin' your thing with the spirits and demons."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Didn't that come out sad and wrong?"

I rolled my eyes. "Whatever, you know what I mean."

"Not sure I do." Dean said entertained and I felt like smacking him for being the smart ass that he was. He leaned against the sink and crossed his arms over his chest. "You wanna explain to me what, 'doin' it with the demons' means?"

"First of all, I said 'doin' your thing' which meant your job, you ass." Dean snickered and I stopped explaining. "You gonna help me?" I asked, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

I had been testing a little weight on each leg but I wasn't sure if I stood and put complete weight on it if it'd be too much. Dean came over to me and held my hand, pulling me up from the bed.

He let go of me after I got my balance and watched me for a moment. "You alright?" He asked; his hands near me in case I tumbled.

"I think." I muttered. The easiest part, obviously, was putting weight on the leg that hadn't been hurt. The next step was walking. I gently put the weight on the leg that had been slashed and kept it there for a moment, seeing how long my leg could take it before it really started to hurt. It took about a half a minute before my leg gave way and Dean caught me.

"Are you sure you wanna put weight on it like that?" Dean asked.

I shrugged. "Putting weight on it isn't going to tear the stitches open. Just hurts a little, that's all. But I can walk."

"Whatever you say, gimpy." Dean smiled and I groaned.

"That better not be my new nickname."

He snorted. "I'm telling Sam as soon as he gets back."

As if on cue Sam chose that moment to come in the door with bagels and Styrofoam containers. Dean set me down on the bed and took some containers from Sam. He opened one of them and sniffed, crinkling his nose and taking it away from his face.

"Dude, what have I told you about grabbing food from out of dumpsters. I don't care if it's on top and in a container or not."

Sam rolled his eyes. "They were the last ones left."

Dean started to throw the potato pancakes in the trash. "And I can see why. They smell like a garbage can."

Sam shrugged, pulling a bagel out of the bag and looked around the cabinets for the peanut butter jar. "That's what you get when you get them at a quickie mart."

I grumbled, watching them. "I love potato pancakes too."

Dean cracked a smile and pulled his hand back with the Styrofoam container in it. "I dare you to eat it."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "You just said it smelled like garbage."

He thought for a moment. "I double dare you."

Sam laughed as I threw another pillow at Dean, this time it hitting him square in the face. It fell and hit his hand and knocked the potato pancake out of the Styrofoam container and it landed on his shoe.

I suppressed a laugh as Dean looked at me. "You'll soon run out of pillows, sweetie."

I shrugged, grabbing another one of the other bed. "Until then..."

I threw it and Sam caught it as it made its way to Dean. Dean nodded his head and I rolled my eyes. Glad Sam was choosing this moment to be Dean's wing man. I kept a small smile to myself; at least they weren't fighting and Sam was smiling at me again and Dean wasn't thinking about trying to kill him. Well at least if he was, he didn't show it. And I liked it better that way. It took so much unneeded tension out of the room. I wouldn't dare think that things were back to normal, because as soon as I did, something exploded and turned around on me again.

"You want a bagel?" Sam asked me, scooping peanut butter out from around the rim of the jar with his finger. He licked his finger and I giggled, nodding.

He threw me one with his other hand and I caught it easily. Guess it kind of defeated the purpose of him throwing me it since I would have to get up to toast it and Sam was making that peanut butter look pretty appetizing. I got up from the bed again and took a small breath, not realizing Sam and Dean were watching me as I walked slowly over to the kitchen table they were at.

I looked up and Dean grinned, clapping his hands. "It's a miracle, gimpy." Sam snorted.

"Shut up." I bit out, sitting in the chair. I winced, feeling my leg gently. Damn, it still hurt pretty bad to walk on. But I couldn't be bedridden for another two weeks, it'd kill me. I'm guessing I should have tried to walk on it within the two weeks I was resting, maybe then it wouldn't be like I was taking a big resting period and putting a bunch of weight on it. It was probably more strenuous to the muscles that got scratched up. I hadn't torn anything major but it did feel like the muscles in my leg were jacked up when I walked.

Dean sighed, running a hand through my hair. "You want some of those painkillers?" He asked gently, all kidding gone from his voice.

I nodded and he kissed my head, going to get them and a glass of water. "Can I get my coffee instead of the water?" I asked softly and he smiled.

"Sure." Dean grabbed my coffee off the nightstand and handed it to me, along with taking the bagel and putting it in the toaster.

Everything was quiet for a moment before Sam made a whipping noise. Dean turned slowly and narrowed his eyes at him. "Come again?" He asked.

Sam let out a low chuckle, looking at me. I smiled as he made the whipping noise again. "You know what that is?" Sam asked. Dean didn't look entertained, because he knew what Sam was about to say was partly true. "It's the universal noise that says you have no idea where your balls are at."

Dean smacked Sam upside the head, obviously trying to hold up some part of his manhood. But then squashed that when he turned around and got my bagel out of the toaster and started putting peanut butter on it for me. Sam and I just looked at each other and broke out in a fit of giggles. But I stopped laughing when I saw Dean glare at me. Right, not the smartest choice. Especially since I liked Dean the way he was. I mean he did things like that without me asking him to because he wanted to. If he honestly didn't want to do something that I asked him to do, he wouldn't do it. So technically, not whipped. I smiled at him; not entirely anyways.

"I'm glad you think it's funny." He drawled out, handing me the bagel. "See how you like those sponge baths when you're doing them yourself."

I frowned and he shrugged, trying not to be swayed by it. I stood and kissed him on the cheek making him shake his head and smile slightly. Sam made one more whipping noise before that bagel ended up on his lap. Now Dean was laughing and I just shook my head as Sam peeled the peanut butter bagel off his shirt.

"Thanks Dean." Sam said and threw the bagel away and got up to change his shirt.

Dean made a low whipping noise that Sam dead eyed him for and I smiled as Sam went into the bathroom with another shirt to change into.

"So do I still have to sponge bath myself?" I asked him, leaning against his chest and pouting. "I'm injured."

Dean shook his head, but wrapped a secure arm around my waist. "Ah no, I don't think so. You're not swaying me with a shaking lower lip and a handicapped leg. No way."

I laughed but it was cut short. A blinding pain shot through my head and I doubled over, gripping Dean. Dean supported my weight and held me tightly to him as the pain took over my muscles. It numbed them and I couldn't hold myself up anymore. I cried out in pain as I completely collapsed into Dean.

"Hold on." Dean soothed, knowing this had to be a vision related headache.

Pain couldn't come on this fast and out of no where to be anything different. I wasn't sure if his calm voice nerve wracked me more than the pain did. He seemed to be getting used to this whole thing. I, on the other hand, didn't think I'd ever be used to the pain that circulated through my head when I got these things.

Although this time was different from any other time. This time I was seeing flashes. Distinctive ones. Like the ones Sam had.

Dean loading his gun. A man tied to chair. There was a picture behind him. Dean loading his gun. The picture said Crater Lake.

When the hell did my headaches come with picture attachments? I heard the bathroom door swing open and Sam hurried out, thinking something was wrong. I saw him holding a pistol and looking for an intruder. Had he had that thing the entire time he'd been in the bathroom?

"No. No, no, no. I swear, it's not in me!" The man in the chair was terrified.

Dean was confused. The woman was confused as he looked to her. "I'm not sure."

The man started sobbing. "It's not in me!"

Three other people in the room. A tall black man. Two women. All of them watched Dean cock his gun.

I cried in pain and finally Dean had to set me on the kitchen floor. I'm guessing because he didn't want to try and jerk me to remain upright and land wrong on my injured leg. He kneeled beside me and pulled me into his chest, rubbing my back and arms.

"Shhh, hold on. It's almost over." Dean cooed and placed his head against my own.

I felt someone kneel down behind me and stoke my hair and I knew it was Sam. I loved how he got away with things like that because Dean was too worried about me to notice. Any other time Dean's protective predatory-ness would be spiraling.

The other girl. She was shaky and scared but obviously old enough to be a mother. She wasn't acting her age. "Oh, God. We're all gonna die."

Dean loading his gun. "I got no choice."

Dean firing.

I gasped and bucked against Dean's hold on me, painful tears lining my face and falling on his jeans.

"Oh God…" I muttered, pulling back from Dean and looking at him with actual fear in my eyes. I ended up leaning back against Sam but not really realizing that I had done it. Dean was scared. I felt horrible that I had caused it. He was scared because there was fear in my eyes from him and he didn't know why. "You killed him." I finally answered the question in his head.

"I don't…" He faltered, trying to come closer to me but I shook my head, knocking back against Sam. He stopped and looked over me carefully.

"I saw it." I said gently.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. Yeah, oh crap was right.

O0o0o0o0o

"So I just wasted him?" Dean asked, somewhat frantic as Sam helped me up from the floor and set me in the chair.

I nodded. I was glad I took those painkillers to help my leg; they were taking a huge edge off the headache I had just gotten. Ah, the wonders of medication. "Yeah, you just loaded the gun and took him out right there."

Dean shook his head, like he was trying to deny everything I just saw. He didn't have the right to actually do that. "No. I wouldn't do that!"

"Maybe he wasn't as innocent as he looked?" Sam offered, trying to keep screaming to a minimum. "Was there any black smoke or did we try and exorcise him?"

I tried thinking back into the flashes but I didn't see smoke or anything that looked like Holy Water around. I shook my head. "No, you just plugged him." Okay, that was harsh and it hit Dean like a bullet. No pun intended.

"I wouldn't just ventilate an innocent man!" He yelled, making some pain echo in my head.

"I never said you would!" I yelled just as loud. "Don't yell at me."

Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. "I'm not yelling at you. I'm just…frustrated."

"I know it's hard to understand. I don't get it either. We should also be focusing on the fact that I had a vision. Not just the pain this time guys, I had flashes. Like Sam."

Dean groaned and waved me off. "Oh, one problem at a time."

"Andy, what else did you see?" Sam asked, shifting and then sitting in one of the chairs. "Like a place, time…anything else?"

"Um, there was a picture behind the guy…" I glanced at Dean and he refused to look me in the eyes. "It was a picture of Crater Lake."

"Crater Lake?" Sam asked, looking thoughtful. "I'll try and see if I can find where that is."

I nodded he crossed the room to get his laptop. Before I could say anything to Dean he passed me to head into the bathroom. Before he could close the door and lock it, like I knew he was going to do, I made my way into the bathroom and closed the door. He looked surprised and I winced as I leaned against the door, stitches bitching for the sharp movements to get there as fast as I could.

"We're not playing escape and evade Dean." I said softly, a little hurt he was trying so hard to block me out.

Since I was already in there with him, he didn't try to leave. He instead sighed and sat on the closed toilet, running his hands over his face. "Then stop looking at me like that." His voice was bruised; like I had seriously hurt his feelings.

"Like what?" I asked, kneeling in front of him.

"Like you're afraid of me." His voice broken and my eyes filled with sympathy.

I reached up and stroked his cheek. "I'm not afraid of you."

"Andy, don't lie okay? I saw your eyes when your vision, or whatever, ended. You were terrified."

"Of what might happen, not of you." I argued, scratching the back of his head with my fingers. Little bit of a lie.

Dean had terrified me. He looked so heartless, so lost, in that vision. I was finally assuring myself that it couldn't have been him. And if it was, I was going to do anything to change the outcome. I stood and sat sideways on his lap, continuing to stroke his cheek. He slowly wrapped his arms around me and hugged me tightly. I know the last thing he ever wanted was for me to be scared; let alone fear he had caused.

I kissed his forehead and he leaned his face against my neck, rubbing his nose and lips against my skin.

We stayed like that until Sam said he located Crater Lake.

O0o0o0o0o

So Sam and Dean helped me into the car and I felt extremely embarrassed that both of them had to help. I wasn't quite sure why both of them had to be near me and I could tell Dean was slightly agitated at the fact that Sam was right on my other side, like Dean would drop me. Finally Dean just said that he had me and to turn around and start gathering the stuff to put in the trunk since we had one less pair of hands. Sam complied, obviously not picking up on Dean's annoyed tone and turned to head back inside the room.

"Like I was really going to drop you." Dean's voice was uptight as he slid me into the backseat.

I shrugged, getting as comfortable as I could. "He was just trying to help." I looked up at him as he handed me his leather jacket to cover myself with. "I'm sorry I'm not that much help with the duffels and everything."

His face scrunched up in confusion and he leaned down to kiss me. "Andy. Even when your leg is totally fine you don't provide much help in the carrying and lifting department." I pushed him away and he laughed. "Hey easy."

"I've had a lot of bed rest Dean; I have all the energy in the world."

He wiggled his eyebrows as he shut he door. "Good to know."

I rolled my eyes, moving the jacket up over my shoulders. I sighed, taking in the leather and cinnamon. I watched as Sam and Dean carried out the rest of the stuff. They were laughing about something and I smiled; laughing was good. It was a nice thing to hear. I just hoped it stayed that way. But sadly something told me that it wouldn't. I was still with Dean and Sam didn't just stop his feelings all together. It was gonna be awkward as long as I was with Dean. But at least now I could forget about it a little and just let things go. Until I had to worry about it, I wasn't going to.

Both of them got in the car and Sam pulled up some directions on his phone.

"You figured out where were heading right?" I asked and Sam nodded as his phone beeped and directed us Continue on OR-224 West.

"There are only two towns in the U.S. named River Grove."

"And you're sure it's the one in Oregon?"

I nodded. "It would make sense. There was a picture of Crater Lake." Dean nodded and put on the windshield wipers as it started to rain. The car was silent for a moment, except for the annoying lady on Sam's phone spouting out directions. "Guys…" I said quietly. "When are we gonna talk about it?"

"Talk about what?" Sam asked. They had to be wondering too right?

"The freakin' red elephant in the room." I replied sarcastically and Dean turned to look at me.

"You're on your period?" Dean asked and Sam smirked. I shoved the front seat, making both jerk and shut up. God. Why did Dean always have to do that? Why did he always have to make a joke when someone was trying to be serious?

"No." I said angrily. "I mean why was this time different? Why didn't Sam have a vision?"

Dean glanced at Sam and Sam shrugged. "I didn't even notice."

I scoffed, leaning back in my seat. "Well I still got the blinding headache. I noticed." I said wryly. "I had the flashes, he didn't have anything."

"Maybe you're just expanding. Ya know, like I started having nightmares and now I see things when I'm awake. You started having headaches and now you're having flashes."

I groaned, putting my face in my hands. "Great, so it's getting worse."

"It's not like a disease Andy." Sam said quietly, his voice blending a bit with the rain pour pattering on the roof.

"Still, anything that has to do with flashes and visions has something to do with the Yellow Eyed demon. So that's not good." Dean said quietly and I scoffed, meeting his eyes through the rearview mirror.

"Great. Now you're scared of me."

Dean looked sympathetic and the tiniest bit angry. "I'm not scared of you." Liar. "I'm scared for you." Right, there was a big line between those two things.

I muttered a snippety 'whatever' and sat back in the seat and Dean rolled his eyes, referring back to the traffic in front of him. I think after an hour, Sam was starting to worry about how quiet I had been because he kept trying to talk to me. Why me? I was tired and my leg hurt and honestly, it was one of those times I just wanted to be left alone. Dean conveyed that with just a stern look and like magic, Sam left him alone. Why couldn't I do that? Couldn't I convey things with just a look?

Sam turned around and smiled at me, his floppy hair that reminded me of long dog ears flipping slightly as he turned. "Wanna play a game?"

I sighed and tried conveying how much I didn't want to with a scowl but he just smiled and finally I just smiled too. Because when Sam smiled like that, how could you resist? I was just happy he wasn't sad, emo boy right now.

"Like what?" I asked.

"Like….Flavor ABC."

I snorted. "Did you just think of that?"

He nodded. "It popped in my head when I saw those peaches for sale on the side of the road back there."

Dean looked at him rather oddly. "Priced peaches on the road makes you want to play a game involving the alphabet?"

Sam shrugged. "Unless anyone else has a better game to play…"

"Apple." I said, starting.

Dean nodded. "Fine. Blueberry."

"Cherry." Sam said with a small smile.

D. I thought for a moment. D. D…. Dean. I blushed. Dean was not a flavor. I looked up and Dean gave me a small smile, seeing me blush. I hoped to God it was not one of those times he could read my mind.

"Dean's not a flavor, babe." He said suddenly and my eyes widened.

I tried covering it up. "I was not thinking of you!" He let out a small laugh and nodded.

"That's why your cheeks are bright pink?"

"Shut up." I said, laughing slightly. So busted. How did he do that? "Date." I said suddenly…that was a fruit so…kind of a flavor right? I rolled my eyes, like there were rules to this damn game.

"E…Elderberry." Dean said answered and then looked to Sam.

Sam thought for a moment for F. "French vanilla."

I scoffed. "Wow, that's a cheat if I ever heard one."

"You're one to talk." Dean said, grinning widely. "You tried to use my name as a flavor."

I blushed again as Sam let out a laugh and sank low in the seat. "Okay, I'm so done with this game."

"It's okay, we're here anyways." Dean pulled past the population sign of River Grove.

I looked around at the white picket fences and blue tiled houses of the small town. I always wanted to be part of a small town. Ya know, it pulled back to simple times when everyone would depend on everyone. I liked that when I was little. I could think of how I would know everybody's name in one small town and how everyone looked out for the other. But small towns could be bad things too. Everyone knew everybody else's business and it seemed every time we ran into a small town there was some kind of cult that was sacrificing couples or chickens. Lovely.

I saw a lone black man sitting on his porch, despite the pouring rain, cleaning a riffle and I scrunched my nose for a moment. I knew him from somewhere. "Dean, stop the car."

"What? Why?" He asked, turning back to look at me.

I leaned up and pointed out his window. "I know that guy. He was there, in the room in my…flashes." It weirded me out calling it a vision so I refused to do so anymore.

Dean didn't say another word and pulled the car next to the curb. The guy we had just past was still at his porch and was within a short walking distance. But of course it was still pouring rain and all of us looked at each other and out the windows like we were cats. None of us wanted to get out.

I sighed. Since when did this become a group of three girls? Weren't these two supposed to be two strong, strapping men? I glanced up at Sam and Dean who were, but trying not to, looking at the rain like it was acid. I rolled my eyes. "I'll go."

Dean scoffed, hitting a small button on the side of his door that locked my own. "It's pouring and you can barely walk, gimpy. I think not. Give me my jacket, I'll go."

I looked down at his jacket and a small smile spread on my face. I nuzzled the jacket, sitting back and spreading it over myself. "But I'm freezing Dean. Can't you just get out without it?"

He turned and narrowed his eyes at me. Hah! Who was gimpy now? Actually, wait, it was still me. But I knew Dean had trouble getting out in the pouring rain without the leather jacket on. Rain rolled off of it rather easily and if he got out without it he'd be soaked. I shivered to emphasize my fake point and he faltered for a moment; he couldn't tell whether I was serious.

"Wanna come with me, don't you?" He asked, giving me a small smile. It made me grin and I nodded. He let out a small laugh and nodded. "Alright, come on."

I tried to give him his jacket back before we got outside but he refused to take it and placed it over my head. I felt bad as he got out of the car and instantly got soaked for it. It was raining in buckets. I got out just as quickly and tried putting a slight pressure on my leg to try it out. Right, in the pouring rain. How's that for smarts? Although, rushing wouldn't have been smart either. All that weight could make my leg buckle. And that's all I would need. To tumble in the rain and for Dean to have to walk all the way back and pick me up. Once I was sure I could walk on it I went to stand in front of the guy's house, where Dean was now standing. He smiled at us and motioned for us to stand on his porch and I thanked him. Dean ran a hand through his wet hair and I smiled slightly as small drips fell from it and onto his drenched shirt. It was tighter now; clinging to his muscles…I widened my eyes again and looked away. Damn it. Why couldn't I focus today? It was from that two week bed rest. It had to be. I was missing Dean way too much for it to be anything different.

"What're you two doin' outside in weather like this?" He asked as he watched us shake off the rain. "And without an umbrella?"

"Well…I uh, kind of stole his jacket…" I said somewhat guiltily and Dean shrugged, brushing it off and took out a badge from his pocket. Right. Hello, Andy. Focus. This guy didn't need to know that I stole Dean's jacket.

"Billy Gibbons and this here is my partner in training, Sally Freilds–- U.S. Marshalls."

The man stiffened, thinking there was some sort of trouble. It made me wonder if he was becoming uptight because he was curious or because he had actually done something wrong and thought he was caught. "What's this about?"

"We're looking for someone." I said, thinking back to the man tied to the chair. "Um, a young man, early twenties. He'd have a thin scar right below his hairline."

The man put down the weapon he was cleaning and looked up at us with full attention. That's how I knew he knew who I was talking about. "What'd he do?"

Dean cleared his throat and stuck his badge back in his pocket. "Well, nothing. We're actually looking for someone else, but we think this young man can help us. He's not in any kind of trouble or anything." He noticed the tattoo on the man's arm and thought for a moment. I could literally feel the comment brew. "I think maybe you know who he is, Master Sergeant. My dad was in the Corps. He was a corporal."

Way to buy his cooperation, Dean. But hey, whatever works. The sergeant looked a bit intrigued now. "What company?"

"Echo 2-1." Dean replied smoothly.

"So, can you help us?" I asked meekly and the sergeant nodded, licking his lower lip.

"Duane Tanner's got a scar like that. But I know him –- good kid, keeps his nose clean."

I hated weird expressions like that. I didn't understand them really. Like 'it's the bee's knees or the cat's pajamas'. I hated those too. "No, I'm sure he does. You know where he lives?" I asked.

He nodded. "With his family, up on Aspen Way."

It felt like he was trying to emphasize family. Like since this kid lived with his family he was a good kid. I resisted rolling my eyes and nodded thanks.

As Dean walked ahead of me and down the porch steps I took his jacket off and threw it over his head, snickering as he stopped in his tracks. I rushed past him and back into the backseat; him following.

"How you gonna drive from back here?" I asked as he shut the car door.

"With my feet." He wisecracked and I giggled at the thought of Dean stretching his legs over the seat to steer with them. Dean tried giving me back the jacket. "You keep this, I'm drenched."

I stuck my tongue out at him, small drips falling from my hair and onto my jeans. "Yeah, well, now I am too." I shivered. "Sam, heat?"

He rolled his eyes, making a comment about how he wasn't the chauffeur and did what I asked him to.

"Yeah, and what was the point of that again?" Dean asked me, setting the jacket up in the front seat.

"I felt bad you got all wet." I shrugged and Dean gave me a small smile, pulling my wet body towards his own.

"Well now we're both wet." He said, the heat of his breath hitting my cold nose. I snuggled my nose into his neck as he held me close. It was amazing how he had at least three layers on but from the water making everything blend together, they seemed thinner and I could feel the heat of his skin. Plus, he smelled like melted cinnamon and I knew if I laid against him long enough, the scent would seep into the fabric of my clothes and I'd smell like him too.

Sam turned around, eyeing us both. "I'm driving aren't I?"

Dean and I both nodded, not wanting to move out of each other's arms. It was weird. Sam actually smiled at us. I think that, for some reason, unnerved me more than his usual glare did.

I tried not to let it bother me. Sam was just trying to get over things, right? For everyone's sake? A pit formed itself in my stomach. Right?

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