Chapter 5
It was Dr. Polanco who woke him in the morning. Dean had managed to curl up across the two chairs and tuck the pillow up to support his head. The doctor tapped him on the leg. Startled, Dean almost fell out of the chair and scrambled to his feet.
"I understand we had a little excitement last night," Polanco said. Just as the doctor was starting to give Dean an overview of Stella's condition, Bobby and Sam arrived. Since being resuscitated, Stella had shown – in the past four hours – some marginal improvement that the doctor felt was a good sign. He was careful, however, to caution Dean against getting his hopes up to high just yet.
"When's she going to wake up, Doc?" asked Dean.
"That I can't say. The brain scan we did showed no intracranial bleeding. But she got one heck of a knock on the head, so it could be hours, it could be days. We're keeping a close eye on it and we'll do another EEG today. If we need to, I'll order another CAT or PET scan."
Dean frowned and rubbed his chin. "Okay, thanks, Doc."
"And Mr. Tyler? Sleep in a regular bed tonight. You're going to end up in the hospital yourself if you keep trying to sleep in that contraption." Polanco hooked a thumb towards the chairs.
"We'll make sure he gets some sleep," said Bobby before Dean could say anything else.
"Here's the key to the motel," said Sam as he shoved it into Dean's hand. "I left scrambled eggs and bacon for you. We got it at the diner. It might still be warm if you go now. And shave. You look like shit."
"What, the George Clooney stubble thing not workin' for me?"
"Ah, no," said Sam. "Not exactly."
"You'll stay here with Stella? You won't leave her alone?" Dean knew he needed sleep and he knew he needed a shower. He was still in the clothes from the shape-shifter incident. He had skinwalker blood on him along with Stella's, and frankly, he was pretty stinky.
"I promise at least one of us will be in the room at all times, Dean. If anything changes, I'll call you. I promise," said Sam. "Scout's honor."
"You were never a Scout," said Dean. "Pinky swear."
"Pinky swear?" Sam stared incredulously at his brother. "And you call me gay?"
"Shut up," said Dean. "I'll be back in a few hours."
True to his word, Dean was back by early afternoon. A full meal, a few hours of sleep, and a shower, shave, and change of clothes made him look – almost – like a new man. He still hadn't managed to get rid of the dark circles under his eyes. It was going to take a lot more sleep to get rid of those. When Dean got back to the hospital, he found Bobby snoring softly in a chair and Sam doing some research on his laptop. They let Bobby sleep and Sam scoped out the online menu for a local restaurant so he could go get lunch for them. Dean leaned over the bed and stroked Stella's hair. He touched his fingers to his lips and then gently touched them to the bruise on Stella's face.
Sam watched his brother's kiss-it-and-make-it better gesture out of the corner of his eye. He kept his face schooled so that Dean wouldn't see him smile if he turned. Dean could be a hard-ass, and he was often the one to shoot or punch first and then ask questions later. Gentle was not a term that would frequently be applied to his brother, but when it came to Stella? Well, she brought out another side of Dean, a side Sam was grateful to see. The heart monitor kept up its steady pulse but her eyes remained closed. Dean sighed; seeing her in that bed, attached to all of those monitors, was physically painful for him.
"After I woke up, I was thinking…" said Dean sitting down in the chair next to Sam. Nearby, Bobby grunted in his sleep and shifted.
"Thinking? That's something different." Sam didn't look up from the computer screen.
"Ha-ha. You're a real comedian." Dean made a sour face at his brother but Sam just laughed at him. "Seriously. I was thinking about when Stella first did some hunts with us. I said last night that our relationship was simple… It really wasn't, was it? Simple?"
"No, not really," said Sam. "There's a reason hunters usually work alone. You and I have learned how to work together – most of the time – since we grew up together. But add Stella to the mix?"
"Yea," smiled Dean. "Another stubborn hot-head who has to be in charge."
"The two of you called each other some really, really interesting names when you fought. And boy did you fight." Sam shook his head. "I knew you both had the hots for each other, but it really didn't seem like you liked each other much."
After the biker hustle, Sam, Dean, and Stella had met up at the motel she recommended but parted ways the next day, despite Dean's significant efforts to charm her. It turned out, however, that she crossed paths with the Winchesters about a week later at Bobby's place. Bobby had come across a significant lead on a large nest of vampires less than a four hour drive from his place. It was a big enough number that acting as a team was necessary. It was unlikely a single hunter could have eradicated the whole nest, so he called the boys and Stella, not knowing quite what he was getting into. Working out the logistics of that job took several days and a number of fights.
"I remember that one day when she started to storm out the room and you grabbed her arm. Remember?" Sam asked.
Dean whistled. "Oh yea. Hell, she almost broke my wrist."
Sam slapped Bobby's boot. "Wake up, Sleeping Beauty. Let's go grab some lunch. Dean will stay with Stella." Bobby grunted and grumbled; he was never pleasant right after he woke up. He gave both boys a squirrelly look. Dean just ignored him and pulled his chair over next to Stella. A nurse came in, checked a few things and disappeared without a word. Dean took Stella's hand in his and started rubbing the back of it with his thumb.
"Hey, Stella. You've got to wake up soon, baby. I miss seeing those brown eyes. We sure did have some good fights when we first got to know each other, didn't we? But it all turned out okay. Plus, I gotta admit, make-up sex with you is pretty hot… And that first time? You remember that first time…" He whistled. "We were still trying to work through that vampire job at Bobby's. I'd probably only known you, what, three weeks at the most? I don't remember what dumb-ass thing I said to piss you off, but…"
Stella just stared coldly at Dean and shook her head. "Dean Winchester, you're an ass. I'm done with this idiocy; finish the friggin' job on your own. It's clear you don't need me around." She grabbed her duffle and headed out the door. She looked back over her shoulder and gave Sam a collegial nod before she said, "Thanks for the hospitality, Bobby. It's been good to see you."
"Hey! HEY!" Dean shouted. "What? You're just leaving? In the middle of a job? C'mon, Stella… Stella!"
The door slammed. Hard.
Sam and Bobby both turned to look at Dean. Sam raised his eyebrows, clearly asking without any words, what Dean had done this time. Dean looked back and forth between the two of them. "What?" he asked. "She's the one who… Oh, hell, I'll go get her." He stomped towards the door, muttering under his breath about headstrong women.
"Apologize while you're at it," Sam yelled. "I'm sure whatever happened was your fault!"
"Bitch!" Dean retorted.
"Jerk!" countered Sam. Bobby just rolled his eyes. Both of those boys were idiots sometimes, acting like they were twelve. It was a Winchester thing that he didn't quite understand.
For his part, Dean was frustrated and confused. He and Stella had been butting heads all week. He knew it was because they were both used to being in charge… but he was also distracted. He couldn't keep his mind totally on the job with Stella so close. She'd lean in to look at a book or a diagram and all Dean could think about was how she smelled or how warm her skin was where it brushed against him. There had been at least three times when he'd woken up only to find Sam laughing at him and asking what kind of dream had made Dean make such happy noises.
Outside, in the jungle of old and junk cars adjacent to Bobby's house, Stella had thrown her duffle in the front passenger seat of the Camaro. She had the trunk open and the false bottom popped. Similar to how the Winchesters' had outfitted the Impala, Stella had a hidden compartment where she kept her guns, ammo, salt, knives, crucifixes, holy water and any other weapon that might do some good against an evil supernatural creature. Dean had been impressed the first time he'd seen her stash. The Camaro's trunk was smaller than the Impala's, but Stella had made the most of the space.
When he came out to where the cars were parked, she was rummaging through her ammo, checking her level of rock salt for shells. The sun was just down and it was getting a little hard to see. She could hear the crunch of boots heading towards her from the house.
She lowered the trunk slightly and gave Dean a glare. "Am I going to have to shoot you?"
"I'd prefer you didn't."
She slammed the trunk closed and came around to the side of the car, which was parked next to Dean's Impala, to face him. She folded her arms across her chest, totally ready to continue the fight. "You got something you want to say to me?"
"C'mon, Stella." Dean spread his arms and smiled. "Don't leave now. Things are just getting interesting." He leaned his back against the rear quarter panel of the Impala, hooking his thumbs into his jeans.
"I'm done with having every idea shot down, Dean." Her voice was cold. "I'm not saying every idea of mine is a good one, but I'm sick-and-God-damn-tired of you shooting everything down the instant I say it."
"I know," he raised his hands. "You're absolutely right. I'm used to running the show… at least most of the time. I'm sorry, Stella. But I trust myself and I trust Sam. I want to trust you, but I don't know you that well…"
"I get that. I don't totally trust you either… We've both been hunting a long time, Dean. I know hunters are loners, but there's no reason we can't work together on this without killing each other. But if I stay, you'd better start showing a little more respect." The voice wasn't quite as cold, but it was still covered in frost.
"R-E-S-P-E-C-T, find out what it means to me…" sang Dean in a ridiculous high falsetto.
Stella rolled her eyes. "You're a complete pain in my ass, you know that?"
"You love it." He grinned at her.
Stella didn't want to smile back; she was still a little pissed. But Dean Winchester was hard to resist, and the frown wavered, shifted. She finally relented and smiled at him. "Yea, I do."
Dean reached out and pulled Stella in close. Wrapping her up in his arms, he kissed her full on the lips. Not some timid, tentative kiss, looking for approval. This was a full-on, I'm-totally-hot-for-you kind of kiss. A large part of him expected Stella to slap the shit out of him. But she didn't and Dean felt a little weak in the knees as she pressed up against him, returning the kiss.
"Thank God we got that out of the way," she whispered after.
"I've wanted to be with you since that super glue biker incident," said Dean. "I think about you all the time, Stella. I've been having dreams about you…" His eyes searched her face, trying to understand what she was feeling, if she wanted him as badly. The kiss said yes, but he was uncertain. Stella pulled away and he reluctantly let her go. But instead of walking away, Stella leaned over and grabbed the door handle to the back of the Impala.
"Get in," she ordered as she opened the door. Dean gave her a funny look and then his mouth sagged open as Stella, without a trace of self-consciousness, pulled her t-shirt over her head and tossed it into the car. She put a hand on her hip, and the expression on her face turned from mischievous to sultry in an instant. "There's more room in the Impala. Unless you want to get in the back of the Camaro and we can see how flexible you really are."
For the past two weeks, each and every one of Dean's sexy dreams had been centered on Stella Bodine. Stella half-naked in the back of the Impala was only one of his many fantasies about her. She didn't need to invite him a second time. With a laugh, he practically dove into the car. Stella followed him in and turned to face Dean, settling herself down into his lap with her knees on either side of his hips.
"I've been having dreams, too, Dean." She smiled down at him. "Really, really interesting dreams."
He slid his hand over her skin and buried his face in the crook of her neck, feeling Stella arch in his arms as he kissed her again. She pulled his shirt up over his head and ran her fingers down from his shoulders over his chest and down to the waist of his jeans. Dean leaned his head back and closed his eyes, savoring the feel of her fingers and lips. The next two hours were deliciously wild and spontaneous, passionate and steamy, and while it left Dean momentarily sated, he already knew he wanted more of Stella.
As Dean talked to Stella about their first rendezvous in the Impala, Sam came back with sandwiches. He only heard the last few moments of Dean's story but he remembered the day clearly, too. He handed Dean his bacon cheeseburger.
"I remember that day. It took you two long enough to hook up. I thought you were starting to lose your touch, brother of mine."
"Shut up," said Dean, and then after a pause he continued. "What do you mean 'you remember'? I don't recall it being a threesome."
"I had books for Bobby in the front seat and I came out to get them that night," said Sam. "I got out there – almost with my hand on the door handle – and suddenly realized that all the windows were fogged up and the car was … moving. I just turned around and went back in the house. I really don't enjoy seeing you naked, Dean."
A short time later, after they'd finished lunch, the three men sat with Stella, talking to each other and sometimes talking directly to her. It was about four o'clock in the afternoon when a small sigh and a tiny groan of pain drifted from the bed. Dean, Sam and Bobby crowded at the side of the bed. Stella turned her head slowly from one side of the pillow to the other, her brows furrowing with confusion and pain. Her eyes started to open, slowly, and squinted and blinked in the bright afternoon sun.
"Hey, Stella. Can you hear me?" asked Dean. "Bobby, go get the doctor!"
She groaned again and tried to shift, the pain in her shoulder actually driving some of the fog from her mind and making her gasp. When she spoke, her voice was groggy. "Dean? Dean, everything hurts… Where…?"
"Where are you? You're in the hospital," he said.
"No, ah…" Stella sucked in her breath and gritted her teeth as she shifted. "Where… Where's my car?"
"Your car? Where's your car?" Laughter mingled with Dean's tears and he wiped his cheek with the back of a hand. "The Camaro's fine, baby. Everything's fine now."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thank you for reading "Starlight Starbright." My chapters seem to be getting a little longer, don't they? There's still plenty more to go, so stay tuned for the next chapter. As always, I do enjoy hearing from readers and I welcome your feedback. If you like the way I'm doing something, let me know. And if there's something that doesn't feel right, let me know that too… as I say in my profile, constructive feedback is always welcome.