Chapter Four

Dean rubbed the back of his left hand across his face. Was the sun even up yet? He looked over his right shoulder toward the bed Sam slept in. It was empty. That was when Dean heard the shower. God, that meant that the sun was up and they needed to get moving. But it also meant breakfast. Dean sat up slowly, still favoring his right shoulder. He looked at the row of small, neat stitches Amie had put in the gash the Wendigo had made on his shoulder. No redness or puffiness, which meant no infection. She was good.

Sam pulled open the bathroom door. "Dude, let's go. I'm starving."

"I take it you're feeling better," Dean asked his brother. He reached for his pants on the floor, pulling them on slowly as he tested out the mobility of his shoulder. He was still pretty stiff from yesterday's fight. He wondered how Amie was feeling. He had known she was hurting when she left their room yesterday, but she always tried to hide her pain. The Wendigo had really worked her over. He probably should have checked on her last night, but he was afraid if he went to her room, he wouldn't want to leave. Especially if she was hurt and vulnerable.

"Have you talked to Amie? Is she awake?" Dean inquired.

Sam mumbled as he pulled on his t-shirt. "No, I woke up, drank 3 bottles of water and hit the head. I'll go over and see if she's up. I'm sure she'll want food. And coffee." Sam finished getting dressed and started for the door.

"Wait." Dean stepped in front of Sam. And Sam got that look on his face, the "I knew it" look. Dean reconsidered. "Fine, you go. I'll shower and get dressed." Which wasn't what he wanted to do. What he wanted to do was knock on Amie's door and see if she was awake. He loved seeing her first thing in the morning, her face scrubbed clean of make-up, walking around in her bare feet, without the layers of clothes she wore to hide her various weapons. She always seemed more real, more vulnerable to him first thing in the morning. Several times when they had been on the road with her, he had made a point of getting up early so he could go to her room and just watch her go through her morning routine. She would wander around the room as she got ready, talking about pretty much anything. Dean would watch her and listen to her voice, not needing to respond. He liked it when he didn't have to do any talking.

Sam smirked at Dean, as if he could read the thoughts in his head. "I'll be right back. Hurry up." Sam turned and walked out the door.

As Dean gathered his things to take into the bathroom, he heard Sam knock on Amie's motel room door. He tensed, waiting for her to answer. He always hated the fact that she was not in the same room as him; he felt like he couldn't protect her. He'd tried a couple of times to get her to stay in their room, but she always squashed that idea right away, usually with a laugh and a knowing wink in Sam's direction. Dean hated that Amie thought he wanted her in the same room with them for those reasons, but he wasn't about to tell her the real ones. Just then, he heard her voice and Sam's faint response. He turned toward the shower, confident that she was in one piece.

When Dean emerged from the shower, he heard muffled voices coming from the other room. He quickly moved to get dressed. He wanted to give Amie the once over and see how she was feeling. He couldn't stop worrying about her. He pulled his t-shirt on and ran his fingers through his short, damp hair. "Good enough," he muttered. He yanked open the bathroom door.

The first thing Dean saw as he opened the bathroom door were Sam's fingers prodding the side of Amie's face. "What the hell, is she alright?" Dean crossed the room in three giant strides. He dropped to the end of the bed next to Amie and pushed Sam's hand away. That's when he saw the black eye and the scrape down the side of her face. He'd noticed her cut lip yesterday, but it looked a lot worse today. He cupped her chin with his hand and turned her face from side to side, his thumb gently caressing her jaw bone.

"Ouch," he practically whispered. "That looks like it hurts."

"It does," Amie responded, her blue eyes flashing with what Dean guessed was indignation. "Thanks to you."

Dean smiled. Amie could be as mad as she wanted, but a bruised face was better than dead any day in his book. Amie rolled her eyes at Dean's smile and tried to pull her face out of his hand. He tightened his grip minutely, wanting to touch her for just another second. He leaned forward until his mouth was next to her ear. "You're welcome." He released her face and pulled away, only glancing at the shocked look on her face. "Let's go eat."

Dean pulled the Impala into the small parking lot next to the homey looking café. He glanced in the rearview mirror to look at Amie for the hundredth time. She was slumped in the middle of the back seat, her head back against the seat, eyes closed. She was wearing a little bit of make-up, but it wasn't enough to cover the dark circles under her eyes or the bruises on her face. Dean wanted to kick himself for causing her to get hurt, but he was pretty confident if he hadn't, she'd be dead. She'd be pissed at him for a while, but she'd get over it, she always did. That wasn't what he cared about, he was genuinely concerned about the pain she was obviously in and what he could do to make it better.

Dean put the Impala in park and shut off the engine. "Hungry?" he asked, directing his question toward the back seat.

"Starving," Sam responded, opening his door.

Amie opened her eyes and sat up, wincing somewhat as she did. "I just want coffee," she said.

Dean opened his door, and got out of the Impala in one move, turning to open the door for Amie. She scooted out of the car and stood next to him, the top of her head just below his chin. Without thinking, Dean grabbed her and pulled her into a hug. She fit perfectly against his chest, her red hair just brushing his chin. He rested his lips against her forehead for just a second. He bent down so he could whisper in her ear. "I really am sorry, you know that right? The last thing I want is for you to get hurt. But I'll take you hurt over dead any day. Please forgive me."

Amie nodded her head, not speaking. Dean heard her swallow and take in a hitched breath. He held her just a few seconds longer, savoring the moment. It had been too long since he'd held her in his arms. Just before he released her, he kissed her forehead. He leaned back and looked into her face. "Friends?" Dean asked. Amie nodded, a small grin on her face. "Yeah, friends."

He gestured for her to go ahead of him and shut the back door of the Impala. He shook his head. It had been spinning all morning with thoughts of him and Amie and memories of the short time they'd been together. Maybe he could try a little harder to show her how he felt about her. He thought maybe it was time to work on that "just friends" bullshit once and for all.