"I'm dying." *
                "No."
    She shifted back a few steps, he shaky hand reaching for her lips he constantly complimented her on. It wasnât possible, it couldnât be. Theyâd just met almost a month ago and there was no way Rebekah was going to lose him, not like this. Since the moment theyâd met heâd been there for her, heâd been her rock as she trained and learned everything he had to teach her. She was who she was because of him, thanks to him.Â
        âDean.. There has to be something we can do. Thereâs always something. You- Youâve overcome this before, you can do it again!â
    Hunting skills werenât the only thing sheâd been learning. Every single one of his stories left the girl in complete awe, a small hint of envy that she wasnât there to witness them sometimes took over. Her head shook continuously as her eyes contemplated everything around them to avoid any type of eye contact. She was strong, but she was still a girl. A very hormonal one at that.Â
      âWe are going to fix this. We are going to fix this if itâs the last thing I do, okay? Donât you dare die on me, Winchester. The only way you will be dying is if I kill you on one of my bitch fits that you love so much.â
    Tears were beginning to border her bottom lids and her nose was cherry red but that was as far as she would go. She wasnât going to cry, she couldnât. But she couldnât just stand there either. Ignoring the rules of being graceful and feminine, Rebekah ran to him, wrapping her arms around his torso and digging her face in the space between his shoulder and his neck. No tears allowed, Bekah. None.
          âYouâre not dying on me, you handsome little prick.â













