Dean dragged his lips away from Amie's and nodded back to the hotel room, gasping, "Wanna go..?"

Amie smiled and replied by pecking his lips, then unwrapping her legs from around his waist. He dropped her gently and grabbed her hand, walking swiftly back to the hotel room. Amie wiped the tracks off her cheeks and half ran to keep up with him, almost as excited as he was. Dean fumbled in his pocket as they stepped up onto the sidewalk, trying to find his keys, when he remembered that it was unlocked he pushed open the door and crashed into the room. Amie followed and smiled up at Dean as he turned around to face her, taking in how amazing he was.

"Give me two seconds," she smiled, winking up at Dean. He smiled dazedly as she walked past him into the bathroom. His eyes followed her swaying hips, and realised he had wanted this ever since he had first laid eyes on her. He wasn't just going to shag this girl, she wasn't just a one night thing. He was going to make love to her, to try and show her how beautiful and perfect she is. No sappy rubbish, Dean thought. Little too late for that.

He took off his shirt easily and walked over to the wardrobe to put it in. He felt goosebumps rise on his bare back because of the chilling air, but he was too ecstatic to care. He turned around to face the bed, however out of the corner of his eye he noticed something white. Something that hadn't been there before. He turned and walked over to the sheet of paper left on his bedside table, picking it up. On it was his Dad's handwriting: I expected more from you, Dean.

Dean felt his insides collapse, his joy dissolve in his chest. His Dad was disappointed in him; he was a failure. He was a bad son, everything he had ever aspired to be crumbled away in front of him.

He didn't care. His Dad… he lived to protect Sam. If anything had happened to Dean, he wouldn't have thought twice about it. Amie cared. With her, he had someone to watch his back, someone who would care if he got hurt.

A lump grew in his throat as he stared at the piece of paper that carried so much weight. He crushed it in his two, large hands and launched it at the wall as hard as he could. He dropped his heavy head into his hands and gripped his hair tightly. He gritted his teeth. Don't feel Dean. Don't be a wuss.

"Dean?" He heard Amie say from the bathroom door. He looked up quickly, jumping at her soft call. She stood in the doorway with her arms folded self consciously. She was wearing one of his large baggy tops that came down to a quarter of the way down her thighs. That was all.

"Hey baby," he smiled, trying to sound normal. Even he was surprised at how hollow his own voice sounded. He swallowed. She tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

Amie began to regret her sudden burst of confidence. She had thought Dean would like seeing her in only his shirt, she had thought that he would think it's sexy. But now she stood awkwardly in the doorway, slightly cold, wondering why Dean looked so upset. He sat on the edge of his bed topless, looking as if he regretted everything.

"What's wrong?" She asked cautiously, approaching Dean and tugging the shirt down.

"Nothing," He answered, a little too quickly. He looked up at her, and Amie noticed how tired he looked, the redness colouring his eyes. They betrayed him and glanced briefly at the scrunched up paper on the floor. Amie looked from him to it, and walked over slowly. She crouched down and picked it up, then read the messy writing.

Her breath caught in her throat and she looked up at Dean, who looked small and sad, as if he was a child who needed someone to tell him what to do. Amie looked down and swallowed, then placed the note back on the sideboard. She walked over to Dean, who looked ashamed.

"Dean-"

"Don't. No chickflick moments. I chose this, I'm gonna stand by it."

"But Dean it-"

"No, I said I'm fine," Dean said with a note of finality that made Amie freeze. She sat down next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulder. He sucked in a deep breath through his nose and stared up at the ceiling, then pressed his lips together.

"Come here," Amie whispered, and Dean pressed his face into her shoulder, wrapped his arms around her waist and squeezed her tightly. She hushed him and played with his messy hair, holding him to her. She stroked the soft skin on his back, leaving a trail of goosebumps anywhere her fingers touched. He refused to cry and clenched his eyes shut, counting to ten. He opened his eyes and pulled away. "Want to talk?" She asked, looking, worried, into his face.

Dean shook his head. "No talking. Talking's for wimps."

Amie smiled weakly and wondered how long it would take for Dean to realise he could open up to her. "I just want to forget it," he whispered in her ear, sending chills down her back. Their faces were tantalizingly close, their lips a few short centimetres apart. Amie leaned up slowly and pressed her lips to Dean's slightly parted ones. They both closed their eyes and this time kissed slowly, lovingly, instead of hungrily and lustfully. Dean tried to forget the ache in his chest, the sense of emptiness and failure that he carried around with him constantly. He could smell Amie; raspberries and vanilla. He could taste a hint of alcohol on her lips, mixed with chocolate. He ran a hand through her silky hair, tightened his arm on her waist.

Amie ran a hand down from his hair, where both her fists had been gripping it tightly, to cup his cheek. She moved onto her knees and swung a leg over his lap, straddling him. He broke apart from her lips and moved to her neck, nibbling and sucking near her collarbone. Amie moaned and Dean smiled into her skin, proud of the pleasure he was causing her. She raked her hands up his bare back and he shivered, moving his own hands down her body. One stopped to rest in the small of her back, the other stroking her bare thigh, slipping under her shirt.

He pulled his mouth away from his neck and kissed her lips repeatedly, whispering, "You - are - so - perfect."

Amie smiled and kissed him back, tugging on his hair slightly. She pulled away and looked into his desperate green eyes, stoking his freckled cheek. All she could think, all she could feel in that moment was how much they needed each other.

Dean wrapped an arm round her back and gripped her thigh. He flipped her over and lay her down on the bed, resting on top of her. He kissed again this time with more passion, and he let her hands roam his body.

Amie sighed into his mouth and wrapped her bare legs around his waist tightly. His body colliding with hers, his lips attached to her own felt so right, so good. She felt more alive than she had in years. She forgot about her Dad abandoning her, something she had thought about every second of everyday since. She forgot about her ex boyfriends, cheating and leaving and beating her, forgot about all of the bad people she had ever met in her life.

Dean was everything. Dean was it all, anything she ever needed to known was on top of her right now, holding her, making her feel whole again.

The stars fell like rain that night and nothing hurt them.