#youngdean

“I.. I’m not sure.. I..” you stammered as you tried to make sense of what had just happened. Your eyes wandered to your bedroom window and you closed the curtains in the hope that the darkness would stay outside with all the monsters it seemed to hold.

“You need to calm down. Here sit,” Dean tried his best to get you to maybe sit on the edge of the bed for a second but you were not having it.

“You sit freakin’ down.” you bursted out. “What on earth happened back there?” You pushed loose strands of hair behind your ears. Dean bit his lower lip, not sure where to start.

“I kinda told you about what might happen.”

“Are you serious? You tell a girl a ghost story and go to a haunted old house not because you really wanna see...you know.. you go there to make out.”

“Why would anyone make out in a haunted house? That is just plain stupid,” Dean said matter-of-factly.

“Well, there are not supposed to be real ghosts,” You let yourself fall back on the little couch in the corner of your room. Your eyes met his green ones and he came over to sit beside you, a slight smirk on his face.

“You do know that's not true, right?”

“Well, I do now,” You sighed, leaning your head back against the couch, staring at the ceiling. “This really isn’t a dream?”

“Nah, that horse is out of the barn.”

“I’ve always thought that you know.. it’s just stupid myths. I was so sure nothing like that really exists.”

“You know what my dad always said?” Dean looked at you, his eyes searching yours, and for a moment he got lost in them.

“Myths are simply stories about truths we’ve forgotten.”

“Your dad seems like a very smart man.”

“Well, he has his moments,” Dean chuckled. “Speakin’ of my old man, I gotta make a call and let him know which body to.. you know.. take care of.”

You nodded and Dean left for the phone in the hallway. If it was true and ghosts really existed, then there must be more out there and Dean and his dad where hunting those things. Saving people in the process. Dean came back in and took a seat beside you on the couch.

“Could you maybe stay a bit longer? I mean if your dad is okay with it.”

“I need to get back to my brother sooner or later but I can stay a little while longer,” He relaxed into the couch.

“Would you tell me some more stories?”

“Sure,” he smiled and put his arm behind you, resting it on you shoulder as you leaned your weight against his chest.

“Have you ever heard a real werewolf story before?”

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