carry on my wayward words

1:44 – Who’s your guy: Sam or Dean?

3:35 – Getting into Supernatural for the first time (and seeing “Deanisms” in Jensen’s early roles).

10:15 – We debate the best and worst seasons of SPN: talking Mary Winchester, the British MOL, MOC Dean vs. Demon Dean, Chuck/God villainy, “jump the shark” moments, and that ending.

30:29 – Favorite SPN characters besides Sam and Dean.

32:34 – Writing fanfiction, joining Tumblr, and writing reader inserts vs. OCs.

38:05 – To “Y/N” or not “Y/N,” and the power of 2nd person. (**Disclaimer: Despite my hot take on this, I’ve loved a lot of stories by authors who use Y/N in reader insert stories.

Also, if I’m remembering the book You and its characters incorrectly forgive me, it’s been like 5 years since I read it lol.) 

51:00 – Favorite fanfic tropes in romance, the joys and challenges of writing Soldier Boy (AKA: the Original Asshole), and attempting to humanize Ben in Break Me Down.

Shoutout to @deans-spinster-witch always for giving me the inspiration to write BMD. 💚

Why We Love The Boys – A review of Supes Ain’t Always Heroes

1:07:57 – Engaging with readers, tips on increasing engagement, optimizing your Tumblr blog, writing schedules and processes, and incorporating reader feedback into stories.

1:26:38 – Sandra graciously narrated Midnight Espresso (Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader). We chat about what sparked the idea for the ME-verse, self-representation in fanfic, feeding Dean, loving Dean, and writing about culture and ethnicity in the fandom space.

1:38:26 – Chatting about the inspirations behind Smoke Eater, a firefighter!Dean AU; law enforcement procedurals, House MD, and researching for stories.

1:44:30 – Which Jackles character is the easiest or most fun to write?

1:47:39 – The challenges of writing Sam vs. Dean.

1:53:15 – Shoutouts! To some of my favorite SPN authors. I could only remember a few people off the top of my head (stupid me), but I love all of you!!

@waynes-multiverse @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @luci-in-trenchcoats @rizlowwritessortof @waywardxwords

@deanwinchesterswitch @deanbrainrotwritings @deanwritings @spnbabe67 @thatonewriter15

@justagirlinafandomworld @kaleldobrev @artyandink @princessmisery666 (– and many more.)

2:00:40 – How I came up with my username.

2:05:04 – Kasey’s Secret Question…

2:07:38 – Advice to fanfic writers and creatives for inspiration and/or wisdom.

2:16:35 – Sandra and Kasey’s lovely outro: self-representation in fandom, escapism, diverse voices, and more. (“Reach out a hand. Touch somebody. …Not like that.”)

📖 Fics Mentioned:

Sandra: @talltalesandbedtimestories -

Some Sunny Day Series – Dean Winchester x OFC - (I'm in the process of reading this entire series and it's been a joy to read! 💜)

Past Due – Dean Winchester x Reader

The Iceman Cometh – Dean Winchester x Reader

Cowboy Canter (Original Fiction) – Inspired by cowboyish Dean/Jensen.

Kasey: @sam-is-my-safe-word -

English Cottage-verse – Sam Winchester x Reader (I've read it and it's fantastic! 💜)

(K)not for sale – Soldier Boy x Dean Winchester

Alex (Zep/Me) -

Break Me Down – Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Midnight Espresso (& the Series Masterlist) – Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader

Dream With Me – Dean Winchester x Plus-sized Latina!Reader

Smoke Eater – Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Every Second Counts – Russell Shaw x F. Reader

🎙️ Stories/Podfics Sandra has narrated for me:

Podfic Playlist

And please remember to check out all the other awesome interviews, narrated podfics, and fun topics covered by Sandra and Kasey on the Idling in the Impala Podcast!

Your nose twitched as you smelled the air and your eyes were drawn over to Dean. The sun was out now–high in the sky.

“Dean?” You cleared your throat as you shifted in the passenger seat to sit up fully. He did a double take before he smiled.

“Morning, sunshine,” the gruffness to his words and the look on his face made your stomach flip–or was that hunger? You settled on a mixture of both. 

“What time is it? Where are we?” You asked as you blinked a few more times to try to take in your surroundings. 

“It’s about 8:30,” Dean answered as he glanced at the clock. “And we’re about an hour outside of Louisville, Kentucky.” 

“Jesus, I slept for eight hours, Dean! You should’ve woken me up,” you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and felt around your hair inconspicuously. You didn’t want to give away that you were slightly concerned with what you looked like after passing out in the passenger seat. God, what if you drooled?! You swiped your fingers across your mouth quickly. 

“Nah, you needed the sleep,” he answered simply. “You had a rough few days there.”

“Thanks,” you breathed. Suddenly your stomach groaned and you hoped he couldn’t hear it. “I’m starving. How about we stop and switch off again?” 

“Sounds good to me,” he answered as he eyed the next exit. 

“Let’s do fast food,” you said as he took the exit. “We can do a bathroom break and get it to go so we can get back on the road.” 

It was a quick stop; you both used the bathroom and ordered breakfast sandwiches and hashbrowns to go and got back into the car to hit the road. You were thankful you felt fully rested. 

“You should really try to get some rest,” the dark circles under Dean’s eyes, paired with how his eyelids looked super heavy, gave away that he was exhausted. 

“You sure you’re good?” He gave you a side glance. You smiled and tapped the navigation system between you. 

“I’ve got the map right here. I’m good,” you encouraged. He nodded once before he leaned back and closed his eyes. 

The music played softly around you as you drove. You had tested it briefly about an hour after you had stopped, certain Dean had found a deep sleep by the sound of his soft snores. 

You had to stop about four hours in for a quick bathroom break, but Dean hadn’t stirred. According to Google maps, you had just about two hours left now until you’d reach Lebanon. 

“If you want it to be good girl, get yourself a bad boy,” you sang softly to the music that came through your speakers. 

“What are you listenin’ to?” Dean’s voice was deep and gruff, still laced with remnants of sleep. 

You felt like you jumped out of your skin and clutched at your chest as you sucked in a gasp of air. 

“Jesus,” you muttered as you looked between him and the road. “Don’t do that!”

Dean chuckled as he pulled his hand over his face to wipe off the sleep. “Do what?” His lip picked upwards in a smirk. 

“Scare me like that, you about gave me a heart attack,” you breathed as you tried to calm your heart as it thudded against your sternum.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he grinned as he adjusted his position on his seat. “But seriously, what is this noise?”

“The Backstreet Boys,” a smirk tugged at your lips as you drove. Dean wiped the sleep from his eyes and you stole a glance. “I told you I’d get you listening to some boy band classics.” You remembered back to when you first saw Dean again and you had walked around town, talking about all of your favorite things. 

Dean audibly groaned. “How is this on your list of favorites?”

“Oh, this song did things to me back in the day,” you laughed softly. 

“What kinda things?” Dean almost wiggled his eyebrows as he watched you. You just smirked and nibbled on your bottom lip with a shrug. “Uh uh,” he muttered, and without another thought he reached over and pulled your lip free with his thumb. “Keep that lip outta your teeth. It’s dangerous.”

Laughter bubbled in you once more. While you fully trusted Dean, there really hadn’t been any conversation about what this was between you now. Not after everything that had happened. It felt safer to change the topic. 

“Only a few hours out now,” you glanced down at the navigation system. “I can stop for a bathroom break. Do you feel rested?” 

Dean nodded. “Oh yeah, that’s the best sleep I’ve gotten in a while,” he said as he glanced at the map on the screen. “I should probably explain where Sam and I live to you before we get there.” He pulled at the back of his neck uncomfortably as you flipped on your turn signal to exit at the rest stop that was approaching. 

You cleared your throat as you prepared to tell him what your brain had mulled over while he slept. “About that,” you said slowly at first. “I don’t want to invade your space, Dean. I was thinking it might be best if I stay in a hotel close by. At least until we figure out what’s going on.” You left out the words between us and avoided eye contact. The distraction of keeping your eyes on the road was a good enough reason to not meet his gaze. 

He was silent, maybe he wanted to try to find the right words, so you filled the gap with your reasoning. 

“I just don’t want to invade your space—for you and for Sam. I’d still be close by, in case of emergencies or anything,” you explained and stole a glance as you pulled into a parking spot at the rest stop. You could no longer blame keeping your eyes on the road for not looking at him, and you were also curious as to how he felt or what he was thinking. 

“You’re not invading our space,” he tried to assure you. “But, I understand if you’d be more comfortable in a hotel.” The words seemed painful as he said them, but he didn’t push back, and you appreciated that. 

“Just for a few days, maybe,” you sighed. “This is all just a lot.”

Dean nodded. “I get that,” he agreed. “A few days.” He smiled to show you it was okay. 

The rest of the drive had gone well, it was easy. Dean found a hotel that wasn’t far from where he lived, and Sam had met you both there with the Impala. 

“Hey, Sam,” you smiled at the younger Winchester as Dean moved his bags from your trunk to the Impala’s back seat, and then hauled your bags out to carry into the hotel. 

“Hey,” he smiled, though you felt as though something might be off. “How was the drive?”

“Not terrible,” you took a glance at Dean as he closed your trunk. Sam cleared his throat. 

“Listen, I just want you to know, you staying with us isn’t imposing on me at all,” Sam’s words sounded like Dean had filled him in via text at the rest stop earlier. “You’re welcome to stay with us.” He lowered his gaze to make sure you could see his eyes. You knew he was being genuine. 

“I appreciate it,” you said truthfully. “I just feel like I need a few days to catch my breath and then I can reevaluate.” 

Sam nodded, as he seemed to understand. 

“Let’s get you checked in,” Dean placed his hand on your lower back just above your jeans. The feeling of his hand sent a wave of warmth even through the sweater you had on, and you relished in the feeling as he led you to the lobby of the hotel. 

Both Sam and Dean seemed on alert as you checked in with the lady at the front desk. She didn’t seem phased as she handed you a key card and told you breakfast was between 6 and 9. You smiled and thanked her as you made your way to the elevators. 

There was silence as the elevator climbed to the third floor. You scanned your key against the lock on the door, but Dean’s arm went out in front of you and he grasped the metal handle. 

“Give us a sec,” his voice was low as he pushed into the room with Sam behind him. You caught the door with your foot and watched as they checked the room. It was just a bedroom and bathroom, so there wasn’t much to search. The rattle of the shower curtain echoed against the bathroom’s tiled walls. Once they felt comfortable, Dean nodded for you to come in. 

You noticed then that Sam had brought a backpack up with him from the Impala. He set it down on one of the beds and unzipped it. 

“So here’s the deal,” Dean said somewhat firmly. “You can’t leave this room under any circumstances unless Sam or I are with you. Don’t open the door for anyone.” Sam had taken a large container of what looked like salt and started putting it in front of the windows. “When we leave, I need you to take that salt and put it in front of the door, alright?”

“Do I want to know why?” You practically gulped as you watched Sam work. 

“Probably not,” Dean answered softly. “I need you to wear this.” You noticed he had a dainty silver chain in his hand with a charm on it. Your fingers reached for the jewelry and you swallowed when your skin grazed his. Upon further examination, you realized this charm was a carbon copy of Dean’s tattoo on his chest. 

“What is this?” You asked as you looked over the design. 

“It’s an anti-possession charm,” he explained carefully. “If you have this on, demons—like Meg—can’t possess you. Like what happened to your friend, Jen.” He swirled his finger to have you turn around, and you did. Even though all of this sounded absolutely insane to you, all you had to do was pull the images of Jen/Meg from your memory to remind yourself it was all very real. 

You gathered your hair over your shoulder and held it there as Dean adjusted the chain around your neck and his fingers worked to clasp it behind you. Every time his fingers flitted over your skin, you felt somersaults in your stomach. 

The sound of an aerosol can being sprayed jostled you back to reality as you spun around to see Sam with a can of spray paint. 

“What are you doing?” You asked as he finished a design underneath a rug in front of the doorway. 

“It’s a Devil’s trap,” Dean explained. “We’ll put one in front of the window, too. If a demon gets in, they can’t get out of that and they can’t hurt you.” 

That felt slightly reassuring, but you were still on edge. “I’m not getting my security deposit back, am I?” There was a nervous chuckle to your question. 

“Sorry,” Sam managed a small, sympathetic smile as he finished his art work and let it dry for a moment before he tossed the rug back over. He went back to the window to create it again. 

You were distracted by the sound of Dean emptying the remaining contents from the backpack onto the bed. There was, what looked like, an iron rod, a jug of water, more salt, a flask and then a serious knife—it reminded you of a hunting knife or something. The knife alone made you gulp, but everything combined had your head spinning. 

“What’s all this?” The words came out as a whisper. Dean placed his hand on that familiar spot on your lower back once more and led you to the edge of the bed. This time was a lot different than when you were in that bed and breakfast just a few days prior. 

“This,” he picked up the jug. “Is salt water. The flask is holy water,” he explained. “That’s an iron rod, extra salt for the doors and windows, and a silver knife. These are all the weapons I could think of for the monsters we hunt.”

“How will I know what to use?” You asked as your eyes moved over all of the things placed before you. Silently, you wondered if maybe you should have stayed with Dean and Sam, after all.

“Honestly, there’s so much to explain,” Dean started as he let out a breath. “Your best bet is to start slingin’ salt water and holy water,” he motioned to the jug and flask. “I don’t think you’ll see a spirit, because that’s more complicated—so you probably won’t need the iron. Werewolf or someone who looks like me, but isn’t me,” he picked up the knife. “Silver blade.” He paused for a second. “Shit, I didn’t think about the vampires…” his words were quieter as he processed. 

“I’m sorry, werewolves? Vampires? And what do you mean, someone who looks like you but isn’t you?” Your thoughts were swimming around in your brain. But it wasn’t a leisurely swim, it was like there had been a damn tsunami and waves were flooding and crashing every second. 

Dean somehow just knew. Maybe it was the way the words were flowing haphazardly from your lips, or the way your fingers had started to tremble. But he knew. 

He reached down and tugged on your wrist so you faced him. “Take a breath, sweetheart,” he said softly. Sam had stilled his movements after he readjusted the rug by the window. “Sammy, can you give us a minute?” 

Sam nodded. “Sure thing,” he gave you a small smile as he left the room and closed the door behind him. 

Dean’s hand came up to catch your cheek in his palm. It was impossible not to be pulled into the warmth of his grasp. You closed your eyes at the feeling. 

“I know this is a lot,” he kept his voice low. “I don’t want to overwhelm you, but I want to keep you safe.” His words hit at a spot in your heart that caused a flutter across your chest. 

“You don’t have to save me, Dean,” you reached up and held his hand on your face in place. 

“Oh, I’ll do whatever I can to keep you safe,” he said matter-of-factly. “That’s not even a question in this scenario. I’m just sorry I got you pulled into this shitstorm of my life.” His words felt sad to you, and you didn’t think he meant for them to be. His hand fell from your cheek back to his side. 

“Dean, I really, really like you,” you made sure you held his gaze as the words flowed. He needed to see the sincerity behind him—to know you were speaking the truth. 

“People I care about get hurt,” he said simply, but little worry lines had appeared by his eyes and between his eyebrows. His eyes matched the sadness of his voice. “Once we figure out what’s going on and I can make sure you’re safe,” he started carefully, as if he didn’t want to say the words but more so needed to. “I want to get you back to Virginia. Back to a normal life.” 

The words struck as if you had been slapped and your eyes widened. That wasn’t something you had expected him to say. “I don’t know, I feel like that’s for me to decide. It’s my safety you’re worried about, right?”

“Just yesterday, you were determined I was a psycho serial killer who faked my death and was on the run,” he quipped with a sad smile. 

While he wasn’t wrong, you still weren’t sold on his reasoning. “Can we just say we’ll take this one day at a time? Go from there?” You asked him gently. 

His eyes moved between yours and he managed a single nod. “Okay. One day at a time.” 

“Thank you,” you breathed. The heaviness of the day fell over you, and it seemed as though Dean noticed. 

“I’m going to get going, let you get some rest,” he cleared his throat and took a step back. “I’ll be back first thing in the morning, or sooner, if you need me.” 

You followed him towards the door. 

“Remember, salt line behind the door once I leave. Don’t open it for anyone. I’ll say ‘Atlanta’ when I come back,” he placed his hand on the door handle and turned back once more. 

“Got it,” you nodded as you listened to his instructions. “And Dean?” He turned back towards you again for you to continue. “Thank you for bringing me here. For keeping me safe.” 

Dean nodded once with a small smile. There was a hesitation there, but you could almost make out when his heart changed his mind, and you could have sworn you heard a fuck it. He leaned back towards you and pressed his lips to yours with his hand on your cheek once more. 

Heat radiated beneath your skin, and you weren’t sure if it was from the traces of his fingertips there or the rush of his lips on yours—probably a mixture of both. 

“Goodnight, Atlanta,” he murmured against your lips as he pulled away. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” you couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips as he opened the door and closed it carefully behind him. 

Dean climbed into the driver’s side of the Impala and closed the door behind him. Sam did the same in the passenger seat. 

“She doing okay?” Sam asked. 

“As good as can be expected,” Dean sighed and pulled his hand over his face. Sam was silent for a few seconds, but Dean knew he had plenty of thoughts floating around in his brain. “Go ahead and say it.” He said firmly. 

“Say what, Dean? Everything I have to say, you already know,” Sam sighed. Dean didn’t respond, and instead put the Impala into reverse and backed out of the spot. “I just feel like it’s not the right time to get this sucked in.” There it is, Dean thought to himself. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” He bit back but refused to meet his brother’s gaze. 

“We know what we need to do for the second trial now,” Sam said carefully. Dean’s jaw flinched. 

“Kevin figured it out?” He glanced between Sam and the road. Sam just nodded. 

“We both know it’s going to get a hell of a lot worse before it gets better,” Sam glanced out the window and then back at Dean. 

Dean nodded, his jaw set in a firm line. “I just need to keep her close by. At least until this shit is over. If Meg has made an appearance, we know more will be coming.” 

“I thought we were keeping her close in the bunker. How are you going to keep her safe when we’ve got a fifteen minute drive between us? The bunker’s the safest place for her,” Sam wasn’t wrong. 

“I know, but she’s scared. I was having a hard enough time trying to explain the bunker to her,” Dean sighed. “I’m dropping you off and going back to the hotel. I’ll sleep in the Impala in the parking lot.”

“Does she know that?” Sam smirked from his spot in the passenger seat, though he could’ve assumed the answer. 

“No, and we’re keeping it that way,” Dean said firmly. “It's the only way I know I can keep her safe.”

A/N: Sorry for the delay on this one! We decided to extend our vacation by a few days, and I hate posting updates from my phone, so thanks for your patience!

Things will certainly start to pick up with this story now (after some consideration, I also think this might go beyond 13 chapters--TBD). I ended up getting some ideas as I re-watched bits and pieces of seasons 8 and 9, so we shall see what happens!

I hope you're loving it so far! Thanks for all of the likes, comments and reblogs. I appreciate you all!

Chapter 10 will be posted on Thursday, 5/2!

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Your nose twitched as you smelled the air and your eyes were drawn over to Dean. The sun was out now–high in the sky.

“Dean?” You cleared your throat as you shifted in the passenger seat to sit up fully. He did a double take before he smiled.

“Morning, sunshine,” the gruffness to his words and the look on his face made your stomach flip–or was that hunger? You settled on a mixture of both. 

“What time is it? Where are we?” You asked as you blinked a few more times to try to take in your surroundings. 

“It’s about 8:30,” Dean answered as he glanced at the clock. “And we’re about an hour outside of Louisville, Kentucky.” 

“Jesus, I slept for eight hours, Dean! You should’ve woken me up,” you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and felt around your hair inconspicuously. You didn’t want to give away that you were slightly concerned with what you looked like after passing out in the passenger seat. God, what if you drooled?! You swiped your fingers across your mouth quickly. 

“Nah, you needed the sleep,” he answered simply. “You had a rough few days there.”

“Thanks,” you breathed. Suddenly your stomach groaned and you hoped he couldn’t hear it. “I’m starving. How about we stop and switch off again?” 

“Sounds good to me,” he answered as he eyed the next exit. 

“Let’s do fast food,” you said as he took the exit. “We can do a bathroom break and get it to go so we can get back on the road.” 

It was a quick stop; you both used the bathroom and ordered breakfast sandwiches and hashbrowns to go and got back into the car to hit the road. You were thankful you felt fully rested. 

“You should really try to get some rest,” the dark circles under Dean’s eyes, paired with how his eyelids looked super heavy, gave away that he was exhausted. 

“You sure you’re good?” He gave you a side glance. You smiled and tapped the navigation system between you. 

“I’ve got the map right here. I’m good,” you encouraged. He nodded once before he leaned back and closed his eyes. 

The music played softly around you as you drove. You had tested it briefly about an hour after you had stopped, certain Dean had found a deep sleep by the sound of his soft snores. 

You had to stop about four hours in for a quick bathroom break, but Dean hadn’t stirred. According to Google maps, you had just about two hours left now until you’d reach Lebanon. 

“If you want it to be good girl, get yourself a bad boy,” you sang softly to the music that came through your speakers. 

“What are you listenin’ to?” Dean’s voice was deep and gruff, still laced with remnants of sleep. 

You felt like you jumped out of your skin and clutched at your chest as you sucked in a gasp of air. 

“Jesus,” you muttered as you looked between him and the road. “Don’t do that!”

Dean chuckled as he pulled his hand over his face to wipe off the sleep. “Do what?” His lip picked upwards in a smirk. 

“Scare me like that, you about gave me a heart attack,” you breathed as you tried to calm your heart as it thudded against your sternum.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he grinned as he adjusted his position on his seat. “But seriously, what is this noise?”

“The Backstreet Boys,” a smirk tugged at your lips as you drove. Dean wiped the sleep from his eyes and you stole a glance. “I told you I’d get you listening to some boy band classics.” You remembered back to when you first saw Dean again and you had walked around town, talking about all of your favorite things. 

Dean audibly groaned. “How is this on your list of favorites?”

“Oh, this song did things to me back in the day,” you laughed softly. 

“What kinda things?” Dean almost wiggled his eyebrows as he watched you. You just smirked and nibbled on your bottom lip with a shrug. “Uh uh,” he muttered, and without another thought he reached over and pulled your lip free with his thumb. “Keep that lip outta your teeth. It’s dangerous.”

Laughter bubbled in you once more. While you fully trusted Dean, there really hadn’t been any conversation about what this was between you now. Not after everything that had happened. It felt safer to change the topic. 

“Only a few hours out now,” you glanced down at the navigation system. “I can stop for a bathroom break. Do you feel rested?” 

Dean nodded. “Oh yeah, that’s the best sleep I’ve gotten in a while,” he said as he glanced at the map on the screen. “I should probably explain where Sam and I live to you before we get there.” He pulled at the back of his neck uncomfortably as you flipped on your turn signal to exit at the rest stop that was approaching. 

You cleared your throat as you prepared to tell him what your brain had mulled over while he slept. “About that,” you said slowly at first. “I don’t want to invade your space, Dean. I was thinking it might be best if I stay in a hotel close by. At least until we figure out what’s going on.” You left out the words between us and avoided eye contact. The distraction of keeping your eyes on the road was a good enough reason to not meet his gaze. 

He was silent, maybe he wanted to try to find the right words, so you filled the gap with your reasoning. 

“I just don’t want to invade your space—for you and for Sam. I’d still be close by, in case of emergencies or anything,” you explained and stole a glance as you pulled into a parking spot at the rest stop. You could no longer blame keeping your eyes on the road for not looking at him, and you were also curious as to how he felt or what he was thinking. 

“You’re not invading our space,” he tried to assure you. “But, I understand if you’d be more comfortable in a hotel.” The words seemed painful as he said them, but he didn’t push back, and you appreciated that. 

“Just for a few days, maybe,” you sighed. “This is all just a lot.”

Dean nodded. “I get that,” he agreed. “A few days.” He smiled to show you it was okay. 

The rest of the drive had gone well, it was easy. Dean found a hotel that wasn’t far from where he lived, and Sam had met you both there with the Impala. 

“Hey, Sam,” you smiled at the younger Winchester as Dean moved his bags from your trunk to the Impala’s back seat, and then hauled your bags out to carry into the hotel. 

“Hey,” he smiled, though you felt as though something might be off. “How was the drive?”

“Not terrible,” you took a glance at Dean as he closed your trunk. Sam cleared his throat. 

“Listen, I just want you to know, you staying with us isn’t imposing on me at all,” Sam’s words sounded like Dean had filled him in via text at the rest stop earlier. “You’re welcome to stay with us.” He lowered his gaze to make sure you could see his eyes. You knew he was being genuine. 

“I appreciate it,” you said truthfully. “I just feel like I need a few days to catch my breath and then I can reevaluate.” 

Sam nodded, as he seemed to understand. 

“Let’s get you checked in,” Dean placed his hand on your lower back just above your jeans. The feeling of his hand sent a wave of warmth even through the sweater you had on, and you relished in the feeling as he led you to the lobby of the hotel. 

Both Sam and Dean seemed on alert as you checked in with the lady at the front desk. She didn’t seem phased as she handed you a key card and told you breakfast was between 6 and 9. You smiled and thanked her as you made your way to the elevators. 

There was silence as the elevator climbed to the third floor. You scanned your key against the lock on the door, but Dean’s arm went out in front of you and he grasped the metal handle. 

“Give us a sec,” his voice was low as he pushed into the room with Sam behind him. You caught the door with your foot and watched as they checked the room. It was just a bedroom and bathroom, so there wasn’t much to search. The rattle of the shower curtain echoed against the bathroom’s tiled walls. Once they felt comfortable, Dean nodded for you to come in. 

You noticed then that Sam had brought a backpack up with him from the Impala. He set it down on one of the beds and unzipped it. 

“So here’s the deal,” Dean said somewhat firmly. “You can’t leave this room under any circumstances unless Sam or I are with you. Don’t open the door for anyone.” Sam had taken a large container of what looked like salt and started putting it in front of the windows. “When we leave, I need you to take that salt and put it in front of the door, alright?”

“Do I want to know why?” You practically gulped as you watched Sam work. 

“Probably not,” Dean answered softly. “I need you to wear this.” You noticed he had a dainty silver chain in his hand with a charm on it. Your fingers reached for the jewelry and you swallowed when your skin grazed his. Upon further examination, you realized this charm was a carbon copy of Dean’s tattoo on his chest. 

“What is this?” You asked as you looked over the design. 

“It’s an anti-possession charm,” he explained carefully. “If you have this on, demons—like Meg—can’t possess you. Like what happened to your friend, Jen.” He swirled his finger to have you turn around, and you did. Even though all of this sounded absolutely insane to you, all you had to do was pull the images of Jen/Meg from your memory to remind yourself it was all very real. 

You gathered your hair over your shoulder and held it there as Dean adjusted the chain around your neck and his fingers worked to clasp it behind you. Every time his fingers flitted over your skin, you felt somersaults in your stomach. 

The sound of an aerosol can being sprayed jostled you back to reality as you spun around to see Sam with a can of spray paint. 

“What are you doing?” You asked as he finished a design underneath a rug in front of the doorway. 

“It’s a Devil’s trap,” Dean explained. “We’ll put one in front of the window, too. If a demon gets in, they can’t get out of that and they can’t hurt you.” 

That felt slightly reassuring, but you were still on edge. “I’m not getting my security deposit back, am I?” There was a nervous chuckle to your question. 

“Sorry,” Sam managed a small, sympathetic smile as he finished his art work and let it dry for a moment before he tossed the rug back over. He went back to the window to create it again. 

You were distracted by the sound of Dean emptying the remaining contents from the backpack onto the bed. There was, what looked like, an iron rod, a jug of water, more salt, a flask and then a serious knife—it reminded you of a hunting knife or something. The knife alone made you gulp, but everything combined had your head spinning. 

“What’s all this?” The words came out as a whisper. Dean placed his hand on that familiar spot on your lower back once more and led you to the edge of the bed. This time was a lot different than when you were in that bed and breakfast just a few days prior. 

“This,” he picked up the jug. “Is salt water. The flask is holy water,” he explained. “That’s an iron rod, extra salt for the doors and windows, and a silver knife. These are all the weapons I could think of for the monsters we hunt.”

“How will I know what to use?” You asked as your eyes moved over all of the things placed before you. Silently, you wondered if maybe you should have stayed with Dean and Sam, after all.

“Honestly, there’s so much to explain,” Dean started as he let out a breath. “Your best bet is to start slingin’ salt water and holy water,” he motioned to the jug and flask. “I don’t think you’ll see a spirit, because that’s more complicated—so you probably won’t need the iron. Werewolf or someone who looks like me, but isn’t me,” he picked up the knife. “Silver blade.” He paused for a second. “Shit, I didn’t think about the vampires…” his words were quieter as he processed. 

“I’m sorry, werewolves? Vampires? And what do you mean, someone who looks like you but isn’t you?” Your thoughts were swimming around in your brain. But it wasn’t a leisurely swim, it was like there had been a damn tsunami and waves were flooding and crashing every second. 

Dean somehow just knew. Maybe it was the way the words were flowing haphazardly from your lips, or the way your fingers had started to tremble. But he knew. 

He reached down and tugged on your wrist so you faced him. “Take a breath, sweetheart,” he said softly. Sam had stilled his movements after he readjusted the rug by the window. “Sammy, can you give us a minute?” 

Sam nodded. “Sure thing,” he gave you a small smile as he left the room and closed the door behind him. 

Dean’s hand came up to catch your cheek in his palm. It was impossible not to be pulled into the warmth of his grasp. You closed your eyes at the feeling. 

“I know this is a lot,” he kept his voice low. “I don’t want to overwhelm you, but I want to keep you safe.” His words hit at a spot in your heart that caused a flutter across your chest. 

“You don’t have to save me, Dean,” you reached up and held his hand on your face in place. 

“Oh, I’ll do whatever I can to keep you safe,” he said matter-of-factly. “That’s not even a question in this scenario. I’m just sorry I got you pulled into this shitstorm of my life.” His words felt sad to you, and you didn’t think he meant for them to be. His hand fell from your cheek back to his side. 

“Dean, I really, really like you,” you made sure you held his gaze as the words flowed. He needed to see the sincerity behind him—to know you were speaking the truth. 

“People I care about get hurt,” he said simply, but little worry lines had appeared by his eyes and between his eyebrows. His eyes matched the sadness of his voice. “Once we figure out what’s going on and I can make sure you’re safe,” he started carefully, as if he didn’t want to say the words but more so needed to. “I want to get you back to Virginia. Back to a normal life.” 

The words struck as if you had been slapped and your eyes widened. That wasn’t something you had expected him to say. “I don’t know, I feel like that’s for me to decide. It’s my safety you’re worried about, right?”

“Just yesterday, you were determined I was a psycho serial killer who faked my death and was on the run,” he quipped with a sad smile. 

While he wasn’t wrong, you still weren’t sold on his reasoning. “Can we just say we’ll take this one day at a time? Go from there?” You asked him gently. 

His eyes moved between yours and he managed a single nod. “Okay. One day at a time.” 

“Thank you,” you breathed. The heaviness of the day fell over you, and it seemed as though Dean noticed. 

“I’m going to get going, let you get some rest,” he cleared his throat and took a step back. “I’ll be back first thing in the morning, or sooner, if you need me.” 

You followed him towards the door. 

“Remember, salt line behind the door once I leave. Don’t open it for anyone. I’ll say ‘Atlanta’ when I come back,” he placed his hand on the door handle and turned back once more. 

“Got it,” you nodded as you listened to his instructions. “And Dean?” He turned back towards you again for you to continue. “Thank you for bringing me here. For keeping me safe.” 

Dean nodded once with a small smile. There was a hesitation there, but you could almost make out when his heart changed his mind, and you could have sworn you heard a fuck it. He leaned back towards you and pressed his lips to yours with his hand on your cheek once more. 

Heat radiated beneath your skin, and you weren’t sure if it was from the traces of his fingertips there or the rush of his lips on yours—probably a mixture of both. 

“Goodnight, Atlanta,” he murmured against your lips as he pulled away. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” you couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips as he opened the door and closed it carefully behind him. 

Dean climbed into the driver’s side of the Impala and closed the door behind him. Sam did the same in the passenger seat. 

“She doing okay?” Sam asked. 

“As good as can be expected,” Dean sighed and pulled his hand over his face. Sam was silent for a few seconds, but Dean knew he had plenty of thoughts floating around in his brain. “Go ahead and say it.” He said firmly. 

“Say what, Dean? Everything I have to say, you already know,” Sam sighed. Dean didn’t respond, and instead put the Impala into reverse and backed out of the spot. “I just feel like it’s not the right time to get this sucked in.” There it is, Dean thought to himself. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” He bit back but refused to meet his brother’s gaze. 

“We know what we need to do for the second trial now,” Sam said carefully. Dean’s jaw flinched. 

“Kevin figured it out?” He glanced between Sam and the road. Sam just nodded. 

“We both know it’s going to get a hell of a lot worse before it gets better,” Sam glanced out the window and then back at Dean. 

Dean nodded, his jaw set in a firm line. “I just need to keep her close by. At least until this shit is over. If Meg has made an appearance, we know more will be coming.” 

“I thought we were keeping her close in the bunker. How are you going to keep her safe when we’ve got a fifteen minute drive between us? The bunker’s the safest place for her,” Sam wasn’t wrong. 

“I know, but she’s scared. I was having a hard enough time trying to explain the bunker to her,” Dean sighed. “I’m dropping you off and going back to the hotel. I’ll sleep in the Impala in the parking lot.”

“Does she know that?” Sam smirked from his spot in the passenger seat, though he could’ve assumed the answer. 

“No, and we’re keeping it that way,” Dean said firmly. “It's the only way I know I can keep her safe.”

A/N: Sorry for the delay on this one! We decided to extend our vacation by a few days, and I hate posting updates from my phone, so thanks for your patience!

Things will certainly start to pick up with this story now (after some consideration, I also think this might go beyond 13 chapters--TBD). I ended up getting some ideas as I re-watched bits and pieces of seasons 8 and 9, so we shall see what happens!

I hope you're loving it so far! Thanks for all of the likes, comments and reblogs. I appreciate you all!

Chapter 10 will be posted on Thursday, 5/2!

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

Tag List: @jackles010378 @ladysparkles78 @hallecarey1 @zepskies @lyarr24

@roseblue373 @deans-spinster-witch @stillhere197 @deans-baby-momma @nix-rose

@djs8891 @globetrotter28 @k-slla @agentorange9595 @dragonfly92

@nancymcl @springsteeen @perpetualabsurdity @deanwinchestersgirl87 @mimi-luvzyu

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@mxltifxnd0m @illicithallways @tofics

Your nose twitched as you smelled the air and your eyes were drawn over to Dean. The sun was out now–high in the sky.

“Dean?” You cleared your throat as you shifted in the passenger seat to sit up fully. He did a double take before he smiled.

“Morning, sunshine,” the gruffness to his words and the look on his face made your stomach flip–or was that hunger? You settled on a mixture of both. 

“What time is it? Where are we?” You asked as you blinked a few more times to try to take in your surroundings. 

“It’s about 8:30,” Dean answered as he glanced at the clock. “And we’re about an hour outside of Louisville, Kentucky.” 

“Jesus, I slept for eight hours, Dean! You should’ve woken me up,” you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and felt around your hair inconspicuously. You didn’t want to give away that you were slightly concerned with what you looked like after passing out in the passenger seat. God, what if you drooled?! You swiped your fingers across your mouth quickly. 

“Nah, you needed the sleep,” he answered simply. “You had a rough few days there.”

“Thanks,” you breathed. Suddenly your stomach groaned and you hoped he couldn’t hear it. “I’m starving. How about we stop and switch off again?” 

“Sounds good to me,” he answered as he eyed the next exit. 

“Let’s do fast food,” you said as he took the exit. “We can do a bathroom break and get it to go so we can get back on the road.” 

It was a quick stop; you both used the bathroom and ordered breakfast sandwiches and hashbrowns to go and got back into the car to hit the road. You were thankful you felt fully rested. 

“You should really try to get some rest,” the dark circles under Dean’s eyes, paired with how his eyelids looked super heavy, gave away that he was exhausted. 

“You sure you’re good?” He gave you a side glance. You smiled and tapped the navigation system between you. 

“I’ve got the map right here. I’m good,” you encouraged. He nodded once before he leaned back and closed his eyes. 

The music played softly around you as you drove. You had tested it briefly about an hour after you had stopped, certain Dean had found a deep sleep by the sound of his soft snores. 

You had to stop about four hours in for a quick bathroom break, but Dean hadn’t stirred. According to Google maps, you had just about two hours left now until you’d reach Lebanon. 

“If you want it to be good girl, get yourself a bad boy,” you sang softly to the music that came through your speakers. 

“What are you listenin’ to?” Dean’s voice was deep and gruff, still laced with remnants of sleep. 

You felt like you jumped out of your skin and clutched at your chest as you sucked in a gasp of air. 

“Jesus,” you muttered as you looked between him and the road. “Don’t do that!”

Dean chuckled as he pulled his hand over his face to wipe off the sleep. “Do what?” His lip picked upwards in a smirk. 

“Scare me like that, you about gave me a heart attack,” you breathed as you tried to calm your heart as it thudded against your sternum.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” he grinned as he adjusted his position on his seat. “But seriously, what is this noise?”

“The Backstreet Boys,” a smirk tugged at your lips as you drove. Dean wiped the sleep from his eyes and you stole a glance. “I told you I’d get you listening to some boy band classics.” You remembered back to when you first saw Dean again and you had walked around town, talking about all of your favorite things. 

Dean audibly groaned. “How is this on your list of favorites?”

“Oh, this song did things to me back in the day,” you laughed softly. 

“What kinda things?” Dean almost wiggled his eyebrows as he watched you. You just smirked and nibbled on your bottom lip with a shrug. “Uh uh,” he muttered, and without another thought he reached over and pulled your lip free with his thumb. “Keep that lip outta your teeth. It’s dangerous.”

Laughter bubbled in you once more. While you fully trusted Dean, there really hadn’t been any conversation about what this was between you now. Not after everything that had happened. It felt safer to change the topic. 

“Only a few hours out now,” you glanced down at the navigation system. “I can stop for a bathroom break. Do you feel rested?” 

Dean nodded. “Oh yeah, that’s the best sleep I’ve gotten in a while,” he said as he glanced at the map on the screen. “I should probably explain where Sam and I live to you before we get there.” He pulled at the back of his neck uncomfortably as you flipped on your turn signal to exit at the rest stop that was approaching. 

You cleared your throat as you prepared to tell him what your brain had mulled over while he slept. “About that,” you said slowly at first. “I don’t want to invade your space, Dean. I was thinking it might be best if I stay in a hotel close by. At least until we figure out what’s going on.” You left out the words between us and avoided eye contact. The distraction of keeping your eyes on the road was a good enough reason to not meet his gaze. 

He was silent, maybe he wanted to try to find the right words, so you filled the gap with your reasoning. 

“I just don’t want to invade your space—for you and for Sam. I’d still be close by, in case of emergencies or anything,” you explained and stole a glance as you pulled into a parking spot at the rest stop. You could no longer blame keeping your eyes on the road for not looking at him, and you were also curious as to how he felt or what he was thinking. 

“You’re not invading our space,” he tried to assure you. “But, I understand if you’d be more comfortable in a hotel.” The words seemed painful as he said them, but he didn’t push back, and you appreciated that. 

“Just for a few days, maybe,” you sighed. “This is all just a lot.”

Dean nodded. “I get that,” he agreed. “A few days.” He smiled to show you it was okay. 

The rest of the drive had gone well, it was easy. Dean found a hotel that wasn’t far from where he lived, and Sam had met you both there with the Impala. 

“Hey, Sam,” you smiled at the younger Winchester as Dean moved his bags from your trunk to the Impala’s back seat, and then hauled your bags out to carry into the hotel. 

“Hey,” he smiled, though you felt as though something might be off. “How was the drive?”

“Not terrible,” you took a glance at Dean as he closed your trunk. Sam cleared his throat. 

“Listen, I just want you to know, you staying with us isn’t imposing on me at all,” Sam’s words sounded like Dean had filled him in via text at the rest stop earlier. “You’re welcome to stay with us.” He lowered his gaze to make sure you could see his eyes. You knew he was being genuine. 

“I appreciate it,” you said truthfully. “I just feel like I need a few days to catch my breath and then I can reevaluate.” 

Sam nodded, as he seemed to understand. 

“Let’s get you checked in,” Dean placed his hand on your lower back just above your jeans. The feeling of his hand sent a wave of warmth even through the sweater you had on, and you relished in the feeling as he led you to the lobby of the hotel. 

Both Sam and Dean seemed on alert as you checked in with the lady at the front desk. She didn’t seem phased as she handed you a key card and told you breakfast was between 6 and 9. You smiled and thanked her as you made your way to the elevators. 

There was silence as the elevator climbed to the third floor. You scanned your key against the lock on the door, but Dean’s arm went out in front of you and he grasped the metal handle. 

“Give us a sec,” his voice was low as he pushed into the room with Sam behind him. You caught the door with your foot and watched as they checked the room. It was just a bedroom and bathroom, so there wasn’t much to search. The rattle of the shower curtain echoed against the bathroom’s tiled walls. Once they felt comfortable, Dean nodded for you to come in. 

You noticed then that Sam had brought a backpack up with him from the Impala. He set it down on one of the beds and unzipped it. 

“So here’s the deal,” Dean said somewhat firmly. “You can’t leave this room under any circumstances unless Sam or I are with you. Don’t open the door for anyone.” Sam had taken a large container of what looked like salt and started putting it in front of the windows. “When we leave, I need you to take that salt and put it in front of the door, alright?”

“Do I want to know why?” You practically gulped as you watched Sam work. 

“Probably not,” Dean answered softly. “I need you to wear this.” You noticed he had a dainty silver chain in his hand with a charm on it. Your fingers reached for the jewelry and you swallowed when your skin grazed his. Upon further examination, you realized this charm was a carbon copy of Dean’s tattoo on his chest. 

“What is this?” You asked as you looked over the design. 

“It’s an anti-possession charm,” he explained carefully. “If you have this on, demons—like Meg—can’t possess you. Like what happened to your friend, Jen.” He swirled his finger to have you turn around, and you did. Even though all of this sounded absolutely insane to you, all you had to do was pull the images of Jen/Meg from your memory to remind yourself it was all very real. 

You gathered your hair over your shoulder and held it there as Dean adjusted the chain around your neck and his fingers worked to clasp it behind you. Every time his fingers flitted over your skin, you felt somersaults in your stomach. 

The sound of an aerosol can being sprayed jostled you back to reality as you spun around to see Sam with a can of spray paint. 

“What are you doing?” You asked as he finished a design underneath a rug in front of the doorway. 

“It’s a Devil’s trap,” Dean explained. “We’ll put one in front of the window, too. If a demon gets in, they can’t get out of that and they can’t hurt you.” 

That felt slightly reassuring, but you were still on edge. “I’m not getting my security deposit back, am I?” There was a nervous chuckle to your question. 

“Sorry,” Sam managed a small, sympathetic smile as he finished his art work and let it dry for a moment before he tossed the rug back over. He went back to the window to create it again. 

You were distracted by the sound of Dean emptying the remaining contents from the backpack onto the bed. There was, what looked like, an iron rod, a jug of water, more salt, a flask and then a serious knife—it reminded you of a hunting knife or something. The knife alone made you gulp, but everything combined had your head spinning. 

“What’s all this?” The words came out as a whisper. Dean placed his hand on that familiar spot on your lower back once more and led you to the edge of the bed. This time was a lot different than when you were in that bed and breakfast just a few days prior. 

“This,” he picked up the jug. “Is salt water. The flask is holy water,” he explained. “That’s an iron rod, extra salt for the doors and windows, and a silver knife. These are all the weapons I could think of for the monsters we hunt.”

“How will I know what to use?” You asked as your eyes moved over all of the things placed before you. Silently, you wondered if maybe you should have stayed with Dean and Sam, after all.

“Honestly, there’s so much to explain,” Dean started as he let out a breath. “Your best bet is to start slingin’ salt water and holy water,” he motioned to the jug and flask. “I don’t think you’ll see a spirit, because that’s more complicated—so you probably won’t need the iron. Werewolf or someone who looks like me, but isn’t me,” he picked up the knife. “Silver blade.” He paused for a second. “Shit, I didn’t think about the vampires…” his words were quieter as he processed. 

“I’m sorry, werewolves? Vampires? And what do you mean, someone who looks like you but isn’t you?” Your thoughts were swimming around in your brain. But it wasn’t a leisurely swim, it was like there had been a damn tsunami and waves were flooding and crashing every second. 

Dean somehow just knew. Maybe it was the way the words were flowing haphazardly from your lips, or the way your fingers had started to tremble. But he knew. 

He reached down and tugged on your wrist so you faced him. “Take a breath, sweetheart,” he said softly. Sam had stilled his movements after he readjusted the rug by the window. “Sammy, can you give us a minute?” 

Sam nodded. “Sure thing,” he gave you a small smile as he left the room and closed the door behind him. 

Dean’s hand came up to catch your cheek in his palm. It was impossible not to be pulled into the warmth of his grasp. You closed your eyes at the feeling. 

“I know this is a lot,” he kept his voice low. “I don’t want to overwhelm you, but I want to keep you safe.” His words hit at a spot in your heart that caused a flutter across your chest. 

“You don’t have to save me, Dean,” you reached up and held his hand on your face in place. 

“Oh, I’ll do whatever I can to keep you safe,” he said matter-of-factly. “That’s not even a question in this scenario. I’m just sorry I got you pulled into this shitstorm of my life.” His words felt sad to you, and you didn’t think he meant for them to be. His hand fell from your cheek back to his side. 

“Dean, I really, really like you,” you made sure you held his gaze as the words flowed. He needed to see the sincerity behind him—to know you were speaking the truth. 

“People I care about get hurt,” he said simply, but little worry lines had appeared by his eyes and between his eyebrows. His eyes matched the sadness of his voice. “Once we figure out what’s going on and I can make sure you’re safe,” he started carefully, as if he didn’t want to say the words but more so needed to. “I want to get you back to Virginia. Back to a normal life.” 

The words struck as if you had been slapped and your eyes widened. That wasn’t something you had expected him to say. “I don’t know, I feel like that’s for me to decide. It’s my safety you’re worried about, right?”

“Just yesterday, you were determined I was a psycho serial killer who faked my death and was on the run,” he quipped with a sad smile. 

While he wasn’t wrong, you still weren’t sold on his reasoning. “Can we just say we’ll take this one day at a time? Go from there?” You asked him gently. 

His eyes moved between yours and he managed a single nod. “Okay. One day at a time.” 

“Thank you,” you breathed. The heaviness of the day fell over you, and it seemed as though Dean noticed. 

“I’m going to get going, let you get some rest,” he cleared his throat and took a step back. “I’ll be back first thing in the morning, or sooner, if you need me.” 

You followed him towards the door. 

“Remember, salt line behind the door once I leave. Don’t open it for anyone. I’ll say ‘Atlanta’ when I come back,” he placed his hand on the door handle and turned back once more. 

“Got it,” you nodded as you listened to his instructions. “And Dean?” He turned back towards you again for you to continue. “Thank you for bringing me here. For keeping me safe.” 

Dean nodded once with a small smile. There was a hesitation there, but you could almost make out when his heart changed his mind, and you could have sworn you heard a fuck it. He leaned back towards you and pressed his lips to yours with his hand on your cheek once more. 

Heat radiated beneath your skin, and you weren’t sure if it was from the traces of his fingertips there or the rush of his lips on yours—probably a mixture of both. 

“Goodnight, Atlanta,” he murmured against your lips as he pulled away. 

“Goodnight, Dean,” you couldn’t help the smirk that tugged at your lips as he opened the door and closed it carefully behind him. 

Dean climbed into the driver’s side of the Impala and closed the door behind him. Sam did the same in the passenger seat. 

“She doing okay?” Sam asked. 

“As good as can be expected,” Dean sighed and pulled his hand over his face. Sam was silent for a few seconds, but Dean knew he had plenty of thoughts floating around in his brain. “Go ahead and say it.” He said firmly. 

“Say what, Dean? Everything I have to say, you already know,” Sam sighed. Dean didn’t respond, and instead put the Impala into reverse and backed out of the spot. “I just feel like it’s not the right time to get this sucked in.” There it is, Dean thought to himself. 

“Don’t you think I know that?” He bit back but refused to meet his brother’s gaze. 

“We know what we need to do for the second trial now,” Sam said carefully. Dean’s jaw flinched. 

“Kevin figured it out?” He glanced between Sam and the road. Sam just nodded. 

“We both know it’s going to get a hell of a lot worse before it gets better,” Sam glanced out the window and then back at Dean. 

Dean nodded, his jaw set in a firm line. “I just need to keep her close by. At least until this shit is over. If Meg has made an appearance, we know more will be coming.” 

“I thought we were keeping her close in the bunker. How are you going to keep her safe when we’ve got a fifteen minute drive between us? The bunker’s the safest place for her,” Sam wasn’t wrong. 

“I know, but she’s scared. I was having a hard enough time trying to explain the bunker to her,” Dean sighed. “I’m dropping you off and going back to the hotel. I’ll sleep in the Impala in the parking lot.”

“Does she know that?” Sam smirked from his spot in the passenger seat, though he could’ve assumed the answer. 

“No, and we’re keeping it that way,” Dean said firmly. “It's the only way I know I can keep her safe.”

A/N: Sorry for the delay on this one! We decided to extend our vacation by a few days, and I hate posting updates from my phone, so thanks for your patience!

Things will certainly start to pick up with this story now (after some consideration, I also think this might go beyond 13 chapters--TBD). I ended up getting some ideas as I re-watched bits and pieces of seasons 8 and 9, so we shall see what happens!

I hope you're loving it so far! Thanks for all of the likes, comments and reblogs. I appreciate you all!

Chapter 10 will be posted on Thursday, 5/2!

Series Masterlist Main Masterlist

Tag List: @jackles010378 @ladysparkles78 @hallecarey1 @zepskies @lyarr24

@roseblue373 @deans-spinster-witch @stillhere197 @deans-baby-momma @nix-rose

@djs8891 @globetrotter28 @k-slla @agentorange9595 @dragonfly92

@nancymcl @springsteeen @perpetualabsurdity @deanwinchestersgirl87 @mimi-luvzyu

@jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @ultimatecin73 @impalaspixie @daughterofcain-67 @lacilou

@jasminewinter140 @yvonneeeee @stoneyggirl2 @rizlowwritessortof @marimarvelfan

@jc-winchester @taylortot @siampie1990 @thewritersaddictions @raisinggray

@tabsluvsu @rachiem4-blog @leigh70 @nyotamalfoy @ades106

@akshi8278 @fanfic-n-tabulous @officialnighttime @so-get-this-sammy @malindacath

@mrlonelycat @madomens @importantnightmarebird @just-levyy @foxyjwls007

@respectfulrebel @onlyangel-444 @divycos @brightlilith @cutiesarah

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When you sit him down in the living room of your apartment and tell him you used to date Frenchie, Ben's reaction is mild at best. To the point where it kind of concerns you.

Ben raises a brow and gives a deep hum.

"Oh, really? That limey bastard?" he remarks. He takes a sip from his tumbler of whiskey. You give him a weary sigh.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't call him that," you reply. You and Frenchie are still friends. Your "entanglement" was years ago, before he even started hooking up with Cherie.

But you still want to be honest with Ben. You two have been dating for a few months now, and it's actually serious. No one's more surprised than you by that fact, but...you're happy. You think he is too.

At your response, however, Ben rolls his eyes and continues drinking. You tilt your head in suspicion.

"So you're chill?" you ask.

"Chill?" he quirks a brow at you. Your lips form a smile.

"You're okay with this," you amend.

Ben shrugs and turns on the TV, trying to navigate the streaming apps. You’d put him on to Game of Thrones. Even three seasons into his binge-watching, he doesn’t want to admit that he’s hooked.

"You're fucking a real man now, sweetheart. No skin off my nose," he says.

It's your turn to roll your eyes, despite a warm blush stinging your cheeks.

But the next time you all go out together to a club in the city, Ben watches you leave his side to say hello to your friends: Annie, Hughie, Frenchie and Kimiko. Frenchie takes your hands and makes a show of looking you up and down.

"Well, well. She shoots to kill tonight, eh?" Frenchie says. When he leans in to kiss your cheek, he whispers, "Ah, black leather. My old favorite."

"Stop," you warn with a smile, hitting his shoulder. He's absolutely shameless. "You're too much."

"And you are just enough," Frenchie returns. He whistles playfully as he raises your hand to twirl you around, showing you off in your little black dress and red-bottom heels.

You laugh, but you bump into Ben when you twirl for the second time. Your laughter cuts off abruptly when you see the flinty look on his face, though he's clinging to stoicism.

Frenchie eyes widen as he seems to realize the very real danger he's put himself in. He wisely lets go of your hand, pivots on his heel and goes with Kimiko over to the dance floor.

Meanwhile, you move back to Ben's side and try to placate him by looping your arm through his. He responds by wrapping a strong arm around your waist. His eyes bore into the back of Frenchie's head so hard, you almost expect laser beams to come out of them.

"Come on, let's get a drink," you suggest, patting a hand on Ben's chest. He looks good tonight in a burgundy button-down shirt tucked into his slacks.

Ben wordlessly agrees to your suggestion, but he grabs a stool and drags it close to his own seat. He does help you by the hand onto the stool, but then his arm wraps back around your waist, pulling you in snugly, possessively to his side.

You try not to smile in amusement. It's a caveman's display, but at least you know the root cause this time.

...Okay, maybe you feel the tiniest bit complicit, but really, you think Ben's overreacting.

After he flags down the bartender and orders his bourbon and your martini, you tap against his bearded cheek, earning his green-eyed attention.

"You okay?" you ask knowingly.

"Just fine," he deadpans.

"Oh, well that's convincing," you say with a smile. "Do I need to remind you that I'm here with you?"

Ben's gaze hardens. "I don't know. You were pretty happy to let that French whore put his fucking hands all over you—"

"All right. Calm down, Rambo," you say, trying not to laugh as you rub his arm. "Sorry, baby. That's just how we've always cut up. It doesn't mean anything."

Ben scoffs in derision. "Yeah? Fuck if I care."

You frown at that, sparking with annoyance. Somehow, now you actually do feel guilty. You and Frenchie have bounced off each other like Derek and Garcia for so long, you didn't even realize how it might look...or how it might make your boyfriend feel.

Because even with all that ego and injured pride, you have a feeling there's a real sting of hurt under there.

"Hey," you say, squeezing Ben's wrist. His gaze remains stubbornly on the bartender making your drinks.

You decide to take matters more firmly into your hands.

Reaching up for his chin, you guide Ben's face toward yours and press a kiss to his lips. It's slow at first, but it soon gains in passion. His teeth graze your bottom lip, before his tongue demands entrance into your mouth with claiming purpose.

It elicits a hint of a moan from you, your fingers clenching in his hair. Your nails drag against his scalp, almost making him shudder.

Your supple lips eventually pull away from his, nice and slow.

"Your hands are the only hands I care about touching me," you say. Your expression twinkles with mischief as you toy with the zipper on the side of your dress.

"As a matter of fact, I need your help," you add. "This zipper keeps catching on something. I think it's stuck."

Quite possibly because someone got a little handsy in the cab on the way here.

Ben smirks, though he claims your lips in one more slightly rough kiss before he answers.

"Well that is a problem," he says. His eyes roam down your face, taking in your thoroughly kissed lips, and the cleavage peeking out at him from the neckline of your dress.

"Think I can give you a hand," he says, as his actual hand slips down your leg. His fingers brush along the inside of your thigh, tingling across your skin. His half-lidded gaze once again meeting yours. "Better take you out back and fix you up."

You laugh, despite the return of your blush. You cling to his shoulders, while his fingers burn a tantalizing trail upwards.

"Oh, yeah. Save me, Soldier Boy!" you tease.

He snorts in response, but he helps guide you out of your seat.

Moments later, all your friends find at the bar are two forgotten drinks and a couple of empty stools.

AN: Ah, jealous Ben. It's fun to imagine. 😂

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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“You about ready?” Dean asked as he tapped softly on your opened bedroom door. 

A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you looked at your packed-to-the-brim duffel bag and backpack. Dean said it was important to pack as light as possible, but without knowing when you’d be back, it was hard to be selective in what you brought. 

“I think so,” you mumbled, your lip caught between your teeth yet again. You released it as Dean stepped into the room. 

“Hey, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dean started slowly. Both of the boys kept treating you like you were made of glass, which was a little bit annoying but also made sense. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“I’m okay,” you said out loud for him, but also for yourself. “I’m not really a big fan of the unknown…I’m a planner.” You mumbled as you looked around at your things.

“Not big on taking chances, huh?” Dean chuckled softly as his eyes watched you move. Again, it was like he was waiting for it all to set in and for you to crumble.

“Nope,” you sighed as you finally looked back at him. “Rule follower, remember?” You managed a half-smile as you remembered the first time you met in Atlanta.

“Oh, I remember,” Dean smirked back. He took a few steps towards you and you both sat on the edge of your bed. “Just keep in mind–this doesn’t have to be forever.” Your head had dipped a bit, so he moved his to find your gaze. 

“I get that,” you nodded. You didn’t want to offend him; this was his life. He was used to packing an ‘oh shit’ bag and getting out of town. He was used to all of the things that went bump in the night. You, on the other hand, were still trying to wrap your mind around it all. “I just wish I could circle a date on the calendar and know when I could come home.”

Dean nodded as he processed your words. “Tell ya what,” he started. “How about we take it one day at a time, for now,” he paused but you waited for the ‘and then’ part. “Once we get back to Kansas, we can sit down and come up with a plan. Figure out what it looks like so we can get you back home.” 

You didn’t want to be presumptuous, but there was a tone in his voice that almost sounded like he wasn’t looking forward to that. But since everything had happened, you really hadn’t been given a moment to figure out what this was between you and Dean.

“That sounds fair,” you answered honestly. Dean smiled and seemed hesitant, but leaned over and kissed the side of your head anyway.

“Good,” he seemed okay with your answer. He sighed and looked around at the rest of your room. “Anything I can do to help?”

You pushed your hair behind your ears and followed his gaze as you, too, looked around. “I don’t think so,” you said softly. “I’ve packed just about everything that will fit into my bags. I’m just worried I’m forgetting something.” 

“We do have stores in Kansas, ya know,” Dean winked as he stood and reached for your duffel. “Jesus, woman.” He muttered as he slung it over his shoulder. “You got a dead body in here, or what?”

You managed a laugh as you stood to follow him and slung your backpack up on your shoulders. “No, Dean, I think I’ll leave the dead bodies to you.” You patted him on the shoulder and walked just beyond him, but you heard him laugh as you rounded the corner into the hallway.

“Everything locked up?” Sam asked as you closed up the front door and headed to meet the boys in the driveway.

“Yep,” you sighed and readjusted your backpack a bit. “I mean, it probably doesn’t matter when it comes to demons, right? They can get through locked doors, I’m guessing.”

They didn’t answer you directly but nodded slightly. “I’m guessing you want to bring your car to Kansas?” Dean asked as he eyed your garage door.

“Oh, absolutely,” you answered quickly. “I just figured I would follow behind you guys, if that’s okay.” You said as you used the keypad on the side of the garage to type in your PIN number that opened the door. 

Sam and Dean stared at you, confused for a minute. “Sam’s flying back to Kansas,” Dean said. “This is a rental so I figured I’d drop it off on the way and hitch a ride with you, if that’s alright.” His words made you turn around slowly and your brows pulled together in confusion. 

“Wait,” you started carefully. “You flew here?” 

Dean caught why you were so surprised and flashed his white teeth in a small smile. He pulled at the back of his neck as Sam watched you both look at each other. “Sweetheart, I don’t own European cars. Don’t drive ‘em either, if I can help it.” He shrugged as he thumbed to the Volkswagen Jetta in your driveway. 

“Okay,” there was more you wanted to say but you decided not to rub in how much Dean hated flying in front of Sam. You weren’t familiar with their dynamic at all, but Dean had told you that he didn’t like being afraid, and that he always tried to be strong for his brother. You didn’t want to embarrass him or say something you shouldn’t in front of Sam. “Do I wanna know why you have to get back to Kansas quickly?” You turned your gaze to the younger Winchester. 

Sam chuckled softly and shook his head. “Work…related,” he mumbled. “So probably not.”

You nodded once and turned back to your car. “Okay, then,” you breathed. “I’ll follow you to the airport and wait for you to drop off the rental.” 

You loaded up your backpack and Dean tossed your duffel bag in the car.  As you both turned away, you faced each other, maybe a foot apart. 

“I’ll see you at the airport,” he said softly. 

“Be safe,” you said back as you studied his features and tried to read what he was thinking. He nodded, and after one more look, he went to walk back to the rental car. 

Before he could step away, you took a chance. You reached for his jacket and tugged so he turned back to you. With his jacket still between your fingers, you pressed your lips to his in a rather quick, but hard kiss. For a moment, he paused but then his hands cupped your face as he kissed you back. 

As the pop echoed around you, you didn’t notice how Sam had turned to give you some privacy and scratched awkwardly at the back of his head. “What was that for?” Dean asked as his eyes looked between yours. 

“To say I’m sorry, again, for not believing you,” you started softly but continued before he could say anything. “And for saving my life.” A small smile tugged up the corner of his lip just enough for his dimple to appear. 

“I don’t want you to apologize to me again, got it?” His thumb caressed your cheek gently. 

“No more apologizing from either of us,” you stared into his eyes until he nodded. 

“Deal,” he agreed, though somewhat hesitantly. 

“Okay,” you pulled back and waved at Sam. “Thanks to you too, Sam.” You called after him. He turned back around and nodded. “And I guess I’ll be seeing you in Kansas.”

“I’ll see you there,” he nodded as he waved. “Drive safe.”

You nodded and watched Dean walk back to the car. Just before he climbed into the driver’s seat, he called out after you. “And I’ll be seeing you soon.”

Even after everything, you couldn’t help the heat that radiated in your cheeks or the way a smile pulled across your lips. 

Dean had dropped Sam off at the drop off area at the airport. Once he had gathered his backpack, you followed Dean to the rental car return. It only took a few minutes before you popped the trunk to your Toyota Camry and waited for Dean to toss in his duffel bag. 

He pulled open the passenger door and leaned down. “You want me to drive?” He asked carefully. Dean seemed like the kind of guy who preferred driving, but you smiled and shook your head ‘no’ anyway. 

“How about I take the first shift? And then we can switch,” you suggested. He seemed content enough with that response and climbed in. “Sorry it’s not the Impala.” You offered with a small smile. 

“Ah, it’s alright,” he sighed as he pulled on his seatbelt. “I’ll get you in a Chevy or Ford, eventually.” He smiled back. You chuckled softly and shook your head as you pulled away from the airport. 

“What’s the address?” You asked as you toyed with the navigation on the dash. 

Dean grumbled, something about fancy cars and shitty navigation systems but you just rolled your eyes. He plugged in an address for Lebanon, Kansas. 

“Jesus,” you mumbled, as the screen totaled your drive time at 20 hours and 32 minutes. 

“Buckle up, sweetheart. Hope you’re ready for a long drive,” Dean chuckled. It was already late into the evening, pushing midnight by now. 

“It’s weird, I feel like I’ve been up for days at this point,” you muttered as you adjusted the air and your seatbelt. 

“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” He eyed you carefully. That was the thing about Dean’s gaze: you could feel it even when you didn’t see it. 

“I’m alright. We can switch when we stop,” you shifted the car into drive and eased on the gas. Dean unbuckled his seat belt to pull off his jacket before he buckled it again. “I’m supposed to call Jen tomorrow. I’m not even sure what to say to her, she recognized you from the photos we found online.” The sound of your voice was anything but strong as your stomach flip-flopped. 

“I’m guessin’ the truth isn’t an option?” Dean asked. 

You shook your head no. “And say what? She got possessed by a demon named Meg, her eyes turned black and she flung me against the wall a few times? Yeah, I’m pretty sure she’d have me committed,” you fell into a comfortable speed as you got on the interstate and hit cruise control. 

Dean half chuckled and shook his head as he glanced out the passenger window and then back to the windshield, his features illuminated by the headlights of drivers coming down the other side of the highway. “That probably wouldn’t go over too well. It’s a lot for anybody to take in.”

You muddled over a thought before you said it out loud. “How did you take it when you first found out?” You asked him as you glanced between him and the road ahead of you. 

His brows kind of pulled together and you took that as his thinking face. “I don’t really know how to explain that,” he started softly. “It’s all I’ve ever known, really.”

Shock had to have graced your features but you tried to calm your expression. While you recognized this was all new to you, it wasn’t to Dean. And you certainly didn’t want to offend him. 

“When did you find out about the things that go bump in the night?” You asked him carefully. 

“When I was four,” he didn’t look at you when he answered. Instead, his gaze went out the passenger window again as he watched the trees pass by in darkness. 

“Four?! Dean, you were a baby,” you breathed. And then you remembered. “You were four when your mom died…”

There was a moment of silence that you took as his acknowledgment that you had the right idea. But then, he continued. 

“My Dad kind of went into overdrive at that point. Trying to find what killed her,” he explained. You nodded as you tried to absorb it. When he didn’t offer up anything additional, you broke the silence. 

“You were just a kid, Dean…” you felt a pang of sadness for the man next to you. It made you angry, even. “No kid should ever have to go through that.”

“No kid should have to lose their parent to some supernatural asshole, either,” he said back firmly. You somehow knew he wasn’t upset with you by the comment, just trying to make you understand. “Seeing my Dad go through that, and having to make sure Sammy was okay…” he shook his head as he trailed off. 

The dots started to connect for you. Dad was busy fighting the monsters, Dean had to take care of his brother, you kept your thoughts to yourself but made a mental note. He had to be strong—couldn’t be afraid. 

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat and resituated himself in his seat. “All that to say, I don’t know what it’s like, really, to be thrown into this world that I live in. But I know it can’t be easy.”

“I don’t want you to worry about me, Dean,” you answered quickly, and you meant it. It seemed as though Dean was worried about protecting everyone in his life and being strong through it. “I don’t want to burden you with that.”

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna worry about you whether you’re sitting right here next to me, or you’re thousands of miles away in another state,” he looked at you when he spoke. “And it’s not a burden.”

“Can I ask you something?” Your bravery to ask the hard questions surprised you. Something about being in the car with him for almost a full day made your usual resolve soften. 

“Shoot,” he stole another glance at you. 

“Do you like it? Fighting…monsters?” You asked, for lack of a better word. 

Dean mulled it over before he answered right away. “I like helping people,” he said simply. “I like being able to save people so they won’t have to go through the same thing we did.”

“But who saves Dean Winchester?” Your eyes found him in the dark car once again.

“I don’t need saving, sweetheart,” he smirked again, a hint of confidence to his tone.

“Everybody needs saving sometimes, Dean,” you answered softly.

The only noise around you came from the hum of the engine.

“I guess Sammy does,” Dean looked out the window. You could tell he didn’t want the conversation to continue at that point, so you switched gears slightly.

“Does it ever scare you?” The idea of fighting monsters terrified you, but you were curious if Dean was ever afraid. 

He seemed to process the question like it was something he had never been asked, which shocked you considering the line of work. “I mean, I guess sometimes. Usually when one of us is in trouble.” You nodded, but he continued. “When one of us is knockin’ on death’s door, I guess that scares me.”

Each new fact you found out about this life Dean lived in brought on a new wave of shock. “Death?” You asked him as you looked between him and the road. 

Dean chuckled, but you could tell it was from him being a bit uncomfortable. “Let’s save that one for another day,” he shifted in his seat. 

Maybe that was a good idea. You redirected the conversation slightly. “Where does your fear of flying fall on the scale of being scared?” You smirked. 

“Oh, that one’s still at the top of the list,” he winked with a wide smile that reflected the light from the streetlights as you drove, welcoming a lighter conversation.

“But you got on a plane anyway. To get to me,” you stole another glance in his direction. 

“Well, yeah,” he said simply. “Sam said I should let it go, that something must have made you change your mind. But when I couldn’t reach you…” he shook his head. “I just had to be sure you were alright.” His words caused a flutter to form in your stomach, and you smiled, but that was shortly followed by a yawn that tugged at your jawline. “Getting tired?” Dean asked.

You shrugged a bit but couldn’t help the nod that followed. “It’s been a really long day,” you sighed. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“That’s what happens when shock starts wearing off,” he reached to place his hand just above your knee over your denim jeans. It was obvious it was meant as something comforting as his thumb traced small circles on the fabric there. “Why don’t we pull off? I can switch with you.”

“Dean, you need sleep, too,” you argued.

“We can stop eventually if I get tired, too. But I’m alright, sweetheart,” his voice was gruff and raspy–you could sense the exhaustion there, but you obliged.

There was a rest stop up ahead and you took the exit slowly. Once the car was in park, you opened the driver’s door to switch with Dean. As you both got settled in your new seats, Dean pressed a quick kiss to your temple before he adjusted the mirrors. 

“You just get some rest,” he said gently. 

You nodded against the headrest of the seat and closed your eyes. “Night, Dean.” It wouldn’t take long for sleep to find you.

A/N: Happy Thursday, friends! I know this chapter probably felt a bit "filler" with the dialogue, but it was important for the development of future chapters. I promise things will get more interesting in the next chapter!

Let me know what you think! I appreciate all the likes, comments & reblogs more than you know!

Chapter 9 will be posted on (or maybe before, TBD) Thursday, 4/25!

Chapter 9 Preview:

One blink, then two. The hum of the engine and vibration in the seat of the car reminded you where you were. There were so many emotions that coursed through you as you remembered: demons, monsters, Dean. 

Your nose twitched as you smelled the air and your eyes were drawn over to Dean. The sun was out now–high in the sky.

“Dean?” You cleared your throat as you shifted in the passenger seat to sit up fully. He did a double take and you saw the smile spread across his lips.

“Morning, sunshine,” the gruffness to his words and the look on his face made your stomach flip–or was that hunger? You settled on a mixture of both. 

“What time is it? Where are we?” You asked as blinked a few more times to try to take in your surroundings. 

“It’s about 8:30,” Dean answered as he glanced at the clock. “And we’re about an hour outside of Louisville, Kentucky.” 

“Jesus, I slept for eight hours, Dean! You should’ve woken me up,” you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and felt around your hair inconspicuously. You didn’t want to give away that you were slightly concerned with what you looked like after passing out in the passenger seat. God, what if you drooled?! You swiped your fingers across your mouth quickly. 

“Nah, you needed the sleep,” he answered simply. “You had a rough few days there.”

“Thanks,” you breathed. Suddenly your stomach groaned and you hoped he couldn’t hear it. “I’m starving. How about we stop and switch off again?”

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“You about ready?” Dean asked as he tapped softly on your opened bedroom door. 

A heavy sigh fell from your lips as you looked at your packed-to-the-brim duffel bag and backpack. Dean said it was important to pack as light as possible, but without knowing when you’d be back, it was hard to be selective in what you brought. 

“I think so,” you mumbled, your lip caught between your teeth yet again. You released it as Dean stepped into the room. 

“Hey, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dean started slowly. Both of the boys kept treating you like you were made of glass, which was a little bit annoying but also made sense. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“I’m okay,” you said out loud for him, but also for yourself. “I’m not really a big fan of the unknown…I’m a planner.” You mumbled as you looked around at your things.

“Not big on taking chances, huh?” Dean chuckled softly as his eyes watched you move. Again, it was like he was waiting for it all to set in and for you to crumble.

“Nope,” you sighed as you finally looked back at him. “Rule follower, remember?” You managed a half-smile as you remembered the first time you met in Atlanta.

“Oh, I remember,” Dean smirked back. He took a few steps towards you and you both sat on the edge of your bed. “Just keep in mind–this doesn’t have to be forever.” Your head had dipped a bit, so he moved his to find your gaze. 

“I get that,” you nodded. You didn’t want to offend him; this was his life. He was used to packing an ‘oh shit’ bag and getting out of town. He was used to all of the things that went bump in the night. You, on the other hand, were still trying to wrap your mind around it all. “I just wish I could circle a date on the calendar and know when I could come home.”

Dean nodded as he processed your words. “Tell ya what,” he started. “How about we take it one day at a time, for now,” he paused but you waited for the ‘and then’ part. “Once we get back to Kansas, we can sit down and come up with a plan. Figure out what it looks like so we can get you back home.” 

You didn’t want to be presumptuous, but there was a tone in his voice that almost sounded like he wasn’t looking forward to that. But since everything had happened, you really hadn’t been given a moment to figure out what this was between you and Dean.

“That sounds fair,” you answered honestly. Dean smiled and seemed hesitant, but leaned over and kissed the side of your head anyway.

“Good,” he seemed okay with your answer. He sighed and looked around at the rest of your room. “Anything I can do to help?”

You pushed your hair behind your ears and followed his gaze as you, too, looked around. “I don’t think so,” you said softly. “I’ve packed just about everything that will fit into my bags. I’m just worried I’m forgetting something.” 

“We do have stores in Kansas, ya know,” Dean winked as he stood and reached for your duffel. “Jesus, woman.” He muttered as he slung it over his shoulder. “You got a dead body in here, or what?”

You managed a laugh as you stood to follow him and slung your backpack up on your shoulders. “No, Dean, I think I’ll leave the dead bodies to you.” You patted him on the shoulder and walked just beyond him, but you heard him laugh as you rounded the corner into the hallway.

“Everything locked up?” Sam asked as you closed up the front door and headed to meet the boys in the driveway.

“Yep,” you sighed and readjusted your backpack a bit. “I mean, it probably doesn’t matter when it comes to demons, right? They can get through locked doors, I’m guessing.”

They didn’t answer you directly but nodded slightly. “I’m guessing you want to bring your car to Kansas?” Dean asked as he eyed your garage door.

“Oh, absolutely,” you answered quickly. “I just figured I would follow behind you guys, if that’s okay.” You said as you used the keypad on the side of the garage to type in your PIN number that opened the door. 

Sam and Dean stared at you, confused for a minute. “Sam’s flying back to Kansas,” Dean said. “This is a rental so I figured I’d drop it off on the way and hitch a ride with you, if that’s alright.” His words made you turn around slowly and your brows pulled together in confusion. 

“Wait,” you started carefully. “You flew here?” 

Dean caught why you were so surprised and flashed his white teeth in a small smile. He pulled at the back of his neck as Sam watched you both look at each other. “Sweetheart, I don’t own European cars. Don’t drive ‘em either, if I can help it.” He shrugged as he thumbed to the Volkswagen Jetta in your driveway. 

“Okay,” there was more you wanted to say but you decided not to rub in how much Dean hated flying in front of Sam. You weren’t familiar with their dynamic at all, but Dean had told you that he didn’t like being afraid, and that he always tried to be strong for his brother. You didn’t want to embarrass him or say something you shouldn’t in front of Sam. “Do I wanna know why you have to get back to Kansas quickly?” You turned your gaze to the younger Winchester. 

Sam chuckled softly and shook his head. “Work…related,” he mumbled. “So probably not.”

You nodded once and turned back to your car. “Okay, then,” you breathed. “I’ll follow you to the airport and wait for you to drop off the rental.” 

You loaded up your backpack and Dean tossed your duffel bag in the car.  As you both turned away, you faced each other, maybe a foot apart. 

“I’ll see you at the airport,” he said softly. 

“Be safe,” you said back as you studied his features and tried to read what he was thinking. He nodded, and after one more look, he went to walk back to the rental car. 

Before he could step away, you took a chance. You reached for his jacket and tugged so he turned back to you. With his jacket still between your fingers, you pressed your lips to his in a rather quick, but hard kiss. For a moment, he paused but then his hands cupped your face as he kissed you back. 

As the pop echoed around you, you didn’t notice how Sam had turned to give you some privacy and scratched awkwardly at the back of his head. “What was that for?” Dean asked as his eyes looked between yours. 

“To say I’m sorry, again, for not believing you,” you started softly but continued before he could say anything. “And for saving my life.” A small smile tugged up the corner of his lip just enough for his dimple to appear. 

“I don’t want you to apologize to me again, got it?” His thumb caressed your cheek gently. 

“No more apologizing from either of us,” you stared into his eyes until he nodded. 

“Deal,” he agreed, though somewhat hesitantly. 

“Okay,” you pulled back and waved at Sam. “Thanks to you too, Sam.” You called after him. He turned back around and nodded. “And I guess I’ll be seeing you in Kansas.”

“I’ll see you there,” he nodded as he waved. “Drive safe.”

You nodded and watched Dean walk back to the car. Just before he climbed into the driver’s seat, he called out after you. “And I’ll be seeing you soon.”

Even after everything, you couldn’t help the heat that radiated in your cheeks or the way a smile pulled across your lips. 

Dean had dropped Sam off at the drop off area at the airport. Once he had gathered his backpack, you followed Dean to the rental car return. It only took a few minutes before you popped the trunk to your Toyota Camry and waited for Dean to toss in his duffel bag. 

He pulled open the passenger door and leaned down. “You want me to drive?” He asked carefully. Dean seemed like the kind of guy who preferred driving, but you smiled and shook your head ‘no’ anyway. 

“How about I take the first shift? And then we can switch,” you suggested. He seemed content enough with that response and climbed in. “Sorry it’s not the Impala.” You offered with a small smile. 

“Ah, it’s alright,” he sighed as he pulled on his seatbelt. “I’ll get you in a Chevy or Ford, eventually.” He smiled back. You chuckled softly and shook your head as you pulled away from the airport. 

“What’s the address?” You asked as you toyed with the navigation on the dash. 

Dean grumbled, something about fancy cars and shitty navigation systems but you just rolled your eyes. He plugged in an address for Lebanon, Kansas. 

“Jesus,” you mumbled, as the screen totaled your drive time at 20 hours and 32 minutes. 

“Buckle up, sweetheart. Hope you’re ready for a long drive,” Dean chuckled. It was already late into the evening, pushing midnight by now. 

“It’s weird, I feel like I’ve been up for days at this point,” you muttered as you adjusted the air and your seatbelt. 

“You sure you don’t want me to drive?” He eyed you carefully. That was the thing about Dean’s gaze: you could feel it even when you didn’t see it. 

“I’m alright. We can switch when we stop,” you shifted the car into drive and eased on the gas. Dean unbuckled his seat belt to pull off his jacket before he buckled it again. “I’m supposed to call Jen tomorrow. I’m not even sure what to say to her, she recognized you from the photos we found online.” The sound of your voice was anything but strong as your stomach flip-flopped. 

“I’m guessin’ the truth isn’t an option?” Dean asked. 

You shook your head no. “And say what? She got possessed by a demon named Meg, her eyes turned black and she flung me against the wall a few times? Yeah, I’m pretty sure she’d have me committed,” you fell into a comfortable speed as you got on the interstate and hit cruise control. 

Dean half chuckled and shook his head as he glanced out the passenger window and then back to the windshield, his features illuminated by the headlights of drivers coming down the other side of the highway. “That probably wouldn’t go over too well. It’s a lot for anybody to take in.”

You muddled over a thought before you said it out loud. “How did you take it when you first found out?” You asked him as you glanced between him and the road ahead of you. 

His brows kind of pulled together and you took that as his thinking face. “I don’t really know how to explain that,” he started softly. “It’s all I’ve ever known, really.”

Shock had to have graced your features but you tried to calm your expression. While you recognized this was all new to you, it wasn’t to Dean. And you certainly didn’t want to offend him. 

“When did you find out about the things that go bump in the night?” You asked him carefully. 

“When I was four,” he didn’t look at you when he answered. Instead, his gaze went out the passenger window again as he watched the trees pass by in darkness. 

“Four?! Dean, you were a baby,” you breathed. And then you remembered. “You were four when your mom died…”

There was a moment of silence that you took as his acknowledgment that you had the right idea. But then, he continued. 

“My Dad kind of went into overdrive at that point. Trying to find what killed her,” he explained. You nodded as you tried to absorb it. When he didn’t offer up anything additional, you broke the silence. 

“You were just a kid, Dean…” you felt a pang of sadness for the man next to you. It made you angry, even. “No kid should ever have to go through that.”

“No kid should have to lose their parent to some supernatural asshole, either,” he said back firmly. You somehow knew he wasn’t upset with you by the comment, just trying to make you understand. “Seeing my Dad go through that, and having to make sure Sammy was okay…” he shook his head as he trailed off. 

The dots started to connect for you. Dad was busy fighting the monsters, Dean had to take care of his brother, you kept your thoughts to yourself but made a mental note. He had to be strong—couldn’t be afraid. 

“Anyway,” he cleared his throat and resituated himself in his seat. “All that to say, I don’t know what it’s like, really, to be thrown into this world that I live in. But I know it can’t be easy.”

“I don’t want you to worry about me, Dean,” you answered quickly, and you meant it. It seemed as though Dean was worried about protecting everyone in his life and being strong through it. “I don’t want to burden you with that.”

“Sweetheart, I’m gonna worry about you whether you’re sitting right here next to me, or you’re thousands of miles away in another state,” he looked at you when he spoke. “And it’s not a burden.”

“Can I ask you something?” Your bravery to ask the hard questions surprised you. Something about being in the car with him for almost a full day made your usual resolve soften. 

“Shoot,” he stole another glance at you. 

“Do you like it? Fighting…monsters?” You asked, for lack of a better word. 

Dean mulled it over before he answered right away. “I like helping people,” he said simply. “I like being able to save people so they won’t have to go through the same thing we did.”

“But who saves Dean Winchester?” Your eyes found him in the dark car once again.

“I don’t need saving, sweetheart,” he smirked again, a hint of confidence to his tone.

“Everybody needs saving sometimes, Dean,” you answered softly.

The only noise around you came from the hum of the engine.

“I guess Sammy does,” Dean looked out the window. You could tell he didn’t want the conversation to continue at that point, so you switched gears slightly.

“Does it ever scare you?” The idea of fighting monsters terrified you, but you were curious if Dean was ever afraid. 

He seemed to process the question like it was something he had never been asked, which shocked you considering the line of work. “I mean, I guess sometimes. Usually when one of us is in trouble.” You nodded, but he continued. “When one of us is knockin’ on death’s door, I guess that scares me.”

Each new fact you found out about this life Dean lived in brought on a new wave of shock. “Death?” You asked him as you looked between him and the road. 

Dean chuckled, but you could tell it was from him being a bit uncomfortable. “Let’s save that one for another day,” he shifted in his seat. 

Maybe that was a good idea. You redirected the conversation slightly. “Where does your fear of flying fall on the scale of being scared?” You smirked. 

“Oh, that one’s still at the top of the list,” he winked with a wide smile that reflected the light from the streetlights as you drove, welcoming a lighter conversation.

“But you got on a plane anyway. To get to me,” you stole another glance in his direction. 

“Well, yeah,” he said simply. “Sam said I should let it go, that something must have made you change your mind. But when I couldn’t reach you…” he shook his head. “I just had to be sure you were alright.” His words caused a flutter to form in your stomach, and you smiled, but that was shortly followed by a yawn that tugged at your jawline. “Getting tired?” Dean asked.

You shrugged a bit but couldn’t help the nod that followed. “It’s been a really long day,” you sighed. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

“That’s what happens when shock starts wearing off,” he reached to place his hand just above your knee over your denim jeans. It was obvious it was meant as something comforting as his thumb traced small circles on the fabric there. “Why don’t we pull off? I can switch with you.”

“Dean, you need sleep, too,” you argued.

“We can stop eventually if I get tired, too. But I’m alright, sweetheart,” his voice was gruff and raspy–you could sense the exhaustion there, but you obliged.

There was a rest stop up ahead and you took the exit slowly. Once the car was in park, you opened the driver’s door to switch with Dean. As you both got settled in your new seats, Dean pressed a quick kiss to your temple before he adjusted the mirrors. 

“You just get some rest,” he said gently. 

You nodded against the headrest of the seat and closed your eyes. “Night, Dean.” It wouldn’t take long for sleep to find you.

A/N: Happy Thursday, friends! I know this chapter probably felt a bit "filler" with the dialogue, but it was important for the development of future chapters. I promise things will get more interesting in the next chapter!

Let me know what you think! I appreciate all the likes, comments & reblogs more than you know!

Chapter 9 will be posted on (or maybe before, TBD) Thursday, 4/25!

Chapter 9 Preview:

One blink, then two. The hum of the engine and vibration in the seat of the car reminded you where you were. There were so many emotions that coursed through you as you remembered: demons, monsters, Dean. 

Your nose twitched as you smelled the air and your eyes were drawn over to Dean. The sun was out now–high in the sky.

“Dean?” You cleared your throat as you shifted in the passenger seat to sit up fully. He did a double take and you saw the smile spread across his lips.

“Morning, sunshine,” the gruffness to his words and the look on his face made your stomach flip–or was that hunger? You settled on a mixture of both. 

“What time is it? Where are we?” You asked as blinked a few more times to try to take in your surroundings. 

“It’s about 8:30,” Dean answered as he glanced at the clock. “And we’re about an hour outside of Louisville, Kentucky.” 

“Jesus, I slept for eight hours, Dean! You should’ve woken me up,” you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and felt around your hair inconspicuously. You didn’t want to give away that you were slightly concerned with what you looked like after passing out in the passenger seat. God, what if you drooled?! You swiped your fingers across your mouth quickly. 

“Nah, you needed the sleep,” he answered simply. “You had a rough few days there.”

“Thanks,” you breathed. Suddenly your stomach groaned and you hoped he couldn’t hear it. “I’m starving. How about we stop and switch off again?”

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“You alright?” He asked gruffly as his eyes swept down your body, subsequently looking for any injuries. You nodded, unable to speak out loud from the confusion and terror coursing through you. His eyes returned to yours with a look that read as sympathetic, like he was sorry. 

Before he could move again, Meg returned her hold on you with a nod of her head. Your feet left the ground once more, and you couldn’t stop the scream that came up from your belly as you were pressed against the wall again. 

“Dammit, Meg!” Dean cursed. He took a step towards you and Meg stopped him in his tracks. 

“Uh, uh, uh,” she wagged her finger. “Not another step, Dean.”

“You wanted to talk? Well, you got me,” he held his hands out wide, and to you it looked like he was trying to show her that he had no weapons or wasn’t trying to threaten her. It made you wonder what kind of weapon could stop Meg, or a demon, rather. It also made you worried for your friend who, you guessed, was trapped in there somewhere. But really, you had no idea. 

“Yeah, well, something tells me that if I let her go, this won’t just be a friendly chat anymore,” she rounded the corner a bit as Dean shifted in the living room. Her back was now to the kitchen, which led to your laundry room and back door. Your eyes noticed movement in the shadows of the laundry room. You would’ve screamed if Meg still didn’t have her hold on you. 

“What do you want, Meg?” You knew Dean had to see the man slowly inching his way into the kitchen, but he didn’t falter. He didn’t even allow his eyes to pass over the shadow. Instead, he continued talking to Meg. 

“Word on the street is that you and your idiot brother are trying to close the gates of Hell,” she shifted her body so she was completely facing Dean. “You’ve got a lot of people looking for you, ya know.”

“Ah, come on. I shouldn’t be that hard to find,” Dean quipped back. 

At that very moment, the shadow stepped fully into the light. He was a tall man, and based on Meg’s comment, you assumed he may have been Dean’s brother, Sam. In two quick, long strides he was just a few feet behind Meg. You noticed the gallon jug of what looked like water in his arms. In one quick movement, he doused Meg with the liquid and she screamed. She writhed against the water, and fog or smoke started to lift off of her skin. 

As soon as the water had been tossed, you felt the weight fall away and gravity took over. You fell to the ground in a heap just like you had before. Dean reached you quickly, he tentatively put a hand on your shoulder and eyed the situation in front of him. The taller man in the room snapped what looked like cuffs on Meg's wrists. She sputtered as she looked down at them. 

“Devil’s trap on cuffs?” She tried to mock, but somehow you could tell she was frustrated. “Very clever, boys.” She spit out some of the water that she had ingested. You clambered to your feet and brushed your hair out of your eyes as you attempted to regain your composure. Dean moved in front of you and blocked your view. “Aren’t you tired of playing games? I sure am.” 

“You’re the one who started this,” the taller man pushed back as he held onto her arm. Even though her hands were locked in handcuffs, it seemed he was still nervous she would run off. 

“Oh, come on, Sasquatch,” she rolled her eyes. “You know you wouldn’t have listened to me if the circumstances were different.” Her eyes moved towards where you stood behind Dean. She peered her head to see around him. As soon as she made eye contact, you averted your gaze. 

“Don’t look at her,” Dean said firmly as he adjusted his stance. “You know what they say, Meg. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.” 

“Yeah, well, what now, hot shot? You gonna use the demon blade on me? Take me hostage? What happens when I ditch this meat suit?” She bit back. Your eyes focused on Dean’s back and wondered what any of that meant. The memory of what Meg had referred to earlier surfaced: whatever happens to that body, happens to Jen.

“Jen’s my best friend,” there was a slight stutter to your soft voice as you tried to cope with everything that had happened. “Don’t hurt her.”

Dean’s head cocked to the side as he listened to you. You watched the muscle that lined his jaw flinch before he turned back to Meg. 

“We’re gonna send this bitch back to Hell,” Dean’s words came out strong and confident. It sent a shiver throughout your body. Before you could ask what that meant, Dean seemed to sense your question. “Don’t worry, it’s not gonna hurt your friend.” 

Meg seemed nervous, but Sam started speaking in a language you didn’t recognize. Latin, maybe? But as he spoke, Meg seemed to become very uncomfortable. She pulled against the cuffs, and then something happened that you had only ever seen in movies before—the kind of movies that gave you nightmares. You peered over Dean’s shoulder and watched as Jen’s head shook violently side to side. Her mouth opened and then thick black smoke began to funnel out of her. Instinctively, you reached forward and grabbed a fistful of Dean’s jacket. A tremble coursed through your body. 

And then just like that, your friend crumpled to the floor. Sam rushed to her with a key and undid the handcuffs. 

You pushed past Dean and dropped to your knees by her. She slowly opened her eyes. 

“Where the hell am I?” She blinked up at you and the two men standing over you and sat up quickly. "And why am I wet?"

“Jen, take it easy,” you breathed and tried to calm your shaking hands. “You passed out.” It wasn’t a total lie, and you already knew Jen would have a hard time believing any of this. You certainly did, until you saw it for yourself. "I splashed some water on you to try to get you to wake up."

“I…I don’t even remember coming inside. I pulled up to your driveway, and then something happened…” her words fell off as you could sense her trying to remember. “There was black smoke.” Her eyes widened and you panicked. 

“You must have hallucinated or something,” you quickly tried to fill in the gaps. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” she rubbed at her forehead before she took on the two men behind you. Her eyebrows went upwards as she tried to place the two of them. “Is that…?”

Before anyone could say anything else, you interjected. “Jimmy and Ben, my new neighbors. They, uh, they heard me yelling for help when you passed out,” you lied through your teeth. You had lied to her more than once tonight, and that didn’t sit well with you, but the alternative (the truth) was too complicated. “They came to help.” Dean and Sam both managed a small nod as they watched over Jen. “Here, let me walk you both out.”

“You sure?” Dean eyed you carefully as you stood and helped your friend to her feet. You led her to the couch, but her gaze stayed on Dean. 

“I’m sure,” you answered quickly. “I’ll get her some food and water. I’m sure it was just a low blood sugar thing.”

“I don’t have low blood sugar,” Jen’s voice was low but she plopped down on the couch anyway. 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” your words were jumbled together. You just wanted to get Dean and Sam out. Jen had read the articles, you knew she would recognize Dean once she fully became aware of her surroundings, if she hadn’t already. The whole demon thing was hard enough for you to understand, and you had witnessed it for yourself. 

You gently placed a hand on Dean’s back and one on Sam’s as you ushered them to the door. Once you were through the doorway, you pulled the door shut behind you and closed your eyes. It felt like the first time you could take a breath since this entire ordeal started (and to be honest, since you had stumbled upon the articles about Dean in the first place). 

“Jimmy and Ben?” Dean’s voice was low as he eyed you cautiously. He didn’t know where you stood in all of this, but was dying to find out. To be honest, you didn't even know yourself; there was so much to wrap your mind around.

“I panicked,” you matched his volume. “I couldn’t tell her the truth. She just got done reading articles about how you’re both murderers and are supposed to be dead. I’m sure she’ll put it together once she sees your pictures again. I just have to figure out how to explain it to her. She’s never going to understand.” You nibbled subconsciously on your bottom lip. Once you realized you were doing it, your eyes popped up to Dean. His words from that night were all you could process: “What’d I tell you about that lip?” You released it immediately, though you could tell by the way he clenched his teeth and his jaw tightened, he had noticed. 

“Do you understand?” Dean asked gently. Whatever hold you had over him a moment ago, he had pushed it out of his brain and refocused on the situation you were currently in. 

“Not in the least,” you sighed as the weight of everything seemed to fall over you; you had to lean against the door just to hold yourself up. “But I’m realizing there are things I guess I just can’t understand. And maybe you aren’t a psychopath and maybe you were telling me the truth. Is Jen going to be alright?”

Dean offered a small smile, but his eyes still pierced through you—it was almost as if he was worried if he looked away, you might keel over. “She’ll be fine. She might have weird memories, but physically, she’ll be alright.”

You nodded, satisfied with that answer. “So what does this all mean? And that was a demon?” Your eyes danced between them and then steadied on Sam. “And you—how did you get into my house? I have so many questions.” You sounded exasperated, because that’s exactly what you were. 

Sam smiled cautiously. It seemed like these boys were worried if they weren’t careful, you might break. “It was way too easy. You really should lock your windows,” he chuckled lightly before he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m Sam, by the way. It’s nice to meet you,” he put his hand out for you to shake. You were hesitant, but you took it. After all, these guys had just saved your life. 

“We’re gonna stay close, once Jen leaves, let’s talk, alright?” Dean offered, still with a low tone. “I’m sure if Meg knows about you, others do too. Or they will soon enough. We’ll park a few houses down and keep an eye out.”

“And what about Meg? Is she truly gone?” You watched them nervously. 

“For now,” Dean answered. “She’ll find a way out of hell, she always does. If word gets out, which it will, about what we’re trying to do, she’ll claw her way out before she lets it happen. Most of them will…” his words were hard and serious. This was serious. 

“I have so many questions,” the words came out in a breath. Now that the shock was wearing off, the utter fear, anxiety and physical pain from falling twice was starting to set in. 

“I know you do, sweetheart,” it almost seemed like Dean winced after he said the word, but you ignored it. “We’ll get there, I promise. Just try to relax. You’re safe right now, and I intend to keep it that way.”

You knew he meant it by the force of his words and the look in his eyes. You nodded. 

“Okay, then,” you took a shaky breath and straightened yourself so you weren’t leaning against the door. “I’ll, um, I’ll call you?” You glanced back at Dean and he nodded. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, like there was something he wanted to do. But instead, he and Sam walked down your front steps and to the street to head back to the car. 

You took a deep breath before you went inside. 

“So, wanna know what’s weird?” Jen asked as you rinsed the dishes. You made her sit at the table and drink her water, even after she tried to insist on helping you. She hadn’t brought up anything that had happened, and you were thankful, though surprised. You had a twisting feeling in your gut that told you that was about to change. 

“Hmm?” You hummed as you put the rinsed dish in the dishwasher. 

“Your neighbor looks a lot like Dean…” she eyed you over her water glass. 

Thankfully, the dish had made it on the rack before it slipped out of your hands. You let a few seconds pass before you laughed nervously. 

“Really? I guess I didn’t see it,” you avoided eye contact even though you could feel her gaze. 

Jen stood from her seat and you eyed her carefully. There were uneasy feelings when you looked at her that you couldn’t forget. You knew it wasn’t her before—she didn’t have some crazy superpower and she couldn’t fling you against a wall. But still, it was hard to separate what happened with Meg from your friend standing beside you. 

“Oh, please,” she gave you a look that told you she knew you weren’t giving her the whole story. “The man you’ve been trying to forget for three days has an uncanny resemblance to your ‘neighbor’ and you don’t notice?” She folded her arms across her chest. 

“Jen, I can’t explain it,” you said simply with a sigh as you finally turned to face her. “I’m sorry for everything—I’m sorry you passed out, I’m sorry for dragging you into the whole Dean thing. I’m just sorry.”

Her gaze softened as you blabbed in the middle of your kitchen. “Hey, you don’t owe me any apologies, okay?” If only she knew the truth. “I’m your best friend. You don’t have to apologize for anything. And you can talk to me, alright?” You nodded once and focused your gaze on the tile by your feet. “Look, it’s been a long night. I’m exhausted. I’m gonna head out, but can we talk tomorrow? Please?” She tilted her head so you’d look at her. 

Tomorrow. At least it gave you some time to process everything. “Tomorrow sounds good,” you replied. Jen sighed and wrapped her arms around you in a hug. “You sure you’re okay to drive home?” Worry bubbled through you. Even though Dean had said she would be alright, you just couldn’t be sure. Hell, you weren’t sure of anything at that moment. 

“Oh, I’m fine,” she said as she pulled back with a small smile. “It takes me maybe five minutes to get home. I’ll even text you when I get there.”

“Okay, deal,” you smiled back. You walked your friend to the door and promised her a phone call the next day. Your arms folded across your chest as you stood on your front porch and watched her pull away, partially to block the cool night air in Virginia, but also to protect yourself from everything that had terrified you that night. Both sent shivers up your spine. 

As soon as her tail lights turned down another street, headlights illuminated behind you. Just as promised, it looked as though Dean and Sam had parked just a few houses down the block. 

As they pulled up to the curb in front of your home, you recognized that it wasn’t the Impala. 

Both doors opened at the same time, and you tried to manage a smile as they got out of the car. “How’re you doing?” Dean asked as they climbed the steps to your porch. 

A shrug lifted and dropped your shoulders. “It’s been a weird three days, putting it lightly.”

You opened the door to welcome them inside. 

“Ha,” Dean chuckled lightly. “I can imagine.” You realized how he must have felt after not hearing from you. While you had gone through your own misery and fear of losing him because you thought he was some psychopathic killer, to then realizing he was telling the truth, he must have been so confused and worried. 

“Hey, uh, could I use your restroom?” Sam asked as he cleared his throat. You nodded and showed him the way. It was pretty obvious he was trying to give you and Dean a moment. 

Dean hesitated, but came back to stand in front of you after Sam went down the hall. 

“I owe you an apology,” you said softly as you tried to calm your heart as it raced in your chest. 

“No you don’t,” he shook his head adamantly and shoved his hands in his pockets to busy them so he wouldn’t reach out and touch you. “You had every right to run for the hills. In fact, I owe you an apology.” Before you could say anything, he continued. “There are a lot of things I should’ve done…and probably some things I shouldn’t have, too.” His tone had dropped. “You’re wrapped up in this because of me. And I’m sorry for that.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured as you studied his eyes. They were the same as you remembered them from just a few days before. “I was interested in you from the jump. And I called you, remember?”

“Oh, I remember,” he chuckled softly as his face softened. “But I probably should’ve said no.”

You shook your head immediately without having to take a second thought. 

“No, please don’t say that,” you reached for his hands and pulled them from his pockets. The feeling of his skin on yours once more created a flutter in your chest that almost felt like pieces were being put back together. “Even knowing all that I know now, as crazy as it’s going to sound…I wouldn’t go back and change anything.”

Dean brought your hands up to his lips and left a soft kiss there. “I hear you. And I wouldn’t want to change it, either. But this life isn’t a life you want anything to do with. I should’ve been smarter about that. I usually am, but you were…”

“Different,” you answered for him with a small nod. “I know what you mean.” 

Sam had reemerged from the bathroom and slowly made his way into the living room. He cleared his throat to announce his presence. 

“So, what does this mean now? You’re sure Jen isn’t in any kind of danger?” Dean had let your hands go and you shifted your gaze to look at both of them. 

“I don’t think so,” Dean answered. “Meg wanted to get to us, and she knew she could do that through you. We’ll have a friend of ours keep an eye on Jen, just to be safe.” You felt okay with that answer, for now at least. “But you, on the other hand…” his words fell again as he looked at you. “I don’t wanna scare you when I say this—“

You cut him off with a wave of your hand. “With all I’ve witnessed and learned today, I don’t think I could be more scared than I already am. Lay it on me.” 

Dean offered up a small smile. “If Meg knows about you, then others will, too.” You nodded as you tried to process. “How do you feel about coming to Kansas for a little while?”

A/N: Happy Thursday, friends! There's chapter 6 - how are we feeling? She finally is starting to make sense of everything (the best she can). And maybe going to Kansas with the Winchesters?

Thank you for reading, like, reblogging or commenting (or all of the above!). Feedback always brings me a lot of joy :)

Chapter 8 will be posted on (or maybe before, TBD) Thursday, 4/18!

Chapter 8 Preview:

“Hey, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dean started slowly. Both of the boys kept treating you like you were made of glass, which was a little bit annoying but also made sense. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“I’m okay,” you said out loud for him, but also for yourself. “I’m not really a big fan of the unknown…I’m a planner.” You mumbled as you looked around at your things.

“Not big on taking chances, huh?” Dean chuckled softly as his eyes watched you move. Again, it was like he was waiting for it all to set in and for you to crumble.

“Nope,” you sighed as you finally looked back at him. “Rule follower, remember?” You managed a half-smile as you remembered the first time you met in Atlanta.

“Oh, I remember,” Dean smirked back. He took a few steps towards you and you both sat on the edge of your bed. “Just keep in mind–this doesn’t have to be forever.” Your head had dipped a bit, so he moved his to find your gaze. 

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“You alright?” He asked gruffly as his eyes swept down your body, subsequently looking for any injuries. You nodded, unable to speak out loud from the confusion and terror coursing through you. His eyes returned to yours with a look that read as sympathetic, like he was sorry. 

Before he could move again, Meg returned her hold on you with a nod of her head. Your feet left the ground once more, and you couldn’t stop the scream that came up from your belly as you were pressed against the wall again. 

“Dammit, Meg!” Dean cursed. He took a step towards you and Meg stopped him in his tracks. 

“Uh, uh, uh,” she wagged her finger. “Not another step, Dean.”

“You wanted to talk? Well, you got me,” he held his hands out wide, and to you it looked like he was trying to show her that he had no weapons or wasn’t trying to threaten her. It made you wonder what kind of weapon could stop Meg, or a demon, rather. It also made you worried for your friend who, you guessed, was trapped in there somewhere. But really, you had no idea. 

“Yeah, well, something tells me that if I let her go, this won’t just be a friendly chat anymore,” she rounded the corner a bit as Dean shifted in the living room. Her back was now to the kitchen, which led to your laundry room and back door. Your eyes noticed movement in the shadows of the laundry room. You would’ve screamed if Meg still didn’t have her hold on you. 

“What do you want, Meg?” You knew Dean had to see the man slowly inching his way into the kitchen, but he didn’t falter. He didn’t even allow his eyes to pass over the shadow. Instead, he continued talking to Meg. 

“Word on the street is that you and your idiot brother are trying to close the gates of Hell,” she shifted her body so she was completely facing Dean. “You’ve got a lot of people looking for you, ya know.”

“Ah, come on. I shouldn’t be that hard to find,” Dean quipped back. 

At that very moment, the shadow stepped fully into the light. He was a tall man, and based on Meg’s comment, you assumed he may have been Dean’s brother, Sam. In two quick, long strides he was just a few feet behind Meg. You noticed the gallon jug of what looked like water in his arms. In one quick movement, he doused Meg with the liquid and she screamed. She writhed against the water, and fog or smoke started to lift off of her skin. 

As soon as the water had been tossed, you felt the weight fall away and gravity took over. You fell to the ground in a heap just like you had before. Dean reached you quickly, he tentatively put a hand on your shoulder and eyed the situation in front of him. The taller man in the room snapped what looked like cuffs on Meg's wrists. She sputtered as she looked down at them. 

“Devil’s trap on cuffs?” She tried to mock, but somehow you could tell she was frustrated. “Very clever, boys.” She spit out some of the water that she had ingested. You clambered to your feet and brushed your hair out of your eyes as you attempted to regain your composure. Dean moved in front of you and blocked your view. “Aren’t you tired of playing games? I sure am.” 

“You’re the one who started this,” the taller man pushed back as he held onto her arm. Even though her hands were locked in handcuffs, it seemed he was still nervous she would run off. 

“Oh, come on, Sasquatch,” she rolled her eyes. “You know you wouldn’t have listened to me if the circumstances were different.” Her eyes moved towards where you stood behind Dean. She peered her head to see around him. As soon as she made eye contact, you averted your gaze. 

“Don’t look at her,” Dean said firmly as he adjusted his stance. “You know what they say, Meg. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.” 

“Yeah, well, what now, hot shot? You gonna use the demon blade on me? Take me hostage? What happens when I ditch this meat suit?” She bit back. Your eyes focused on Dean’s back and wondered what any of that meant. The memory of what Meg had referred to earlier surfaced: whatever happens to that body, happens to Jen.

“Jen’s my best friend,” there was a slight stutter to your soft voice as you tried to cope with everything that had happened. “Don’t hurt her.”

Dean’s head cocked to the side as he listened to you. You watched the muscle that lined his jaw flinch before he turned back to Meg. 

“We’re gonna send this bitch back to Hell,” Dean’s words came out strong and confident. It sent a shiver throughout your body. Before you could ask what that meant, Dean seemed to sense your question. “Don’t worry, it’s not gonna hurt your friend.” 

Meg seemed nervous, but Sam started speaking in a language you didn’t recognize. Latin, maybe? But as he spoke, Meg seemed to become very uncomfortable. She pulled against the cuffs, and then something happened that you had only ever seen in movies before—the kind of movies that gave you nightmares. You peered over Dean’s shoulder and watched as Jen’s head shook violently side to side. Her mouth opened and then thick black smoke began to funnel out of her. Instinctively, you reached forward and grabbed a fistful of Dean’s jacket. A tremble coursed through your body. 

And then just like that, your friend crumpled to the floor. Sam rushed to her with a key and undid the handcuffs. 

You pushed past Dean and dropped to your knees by her. She slowly opened her eyes. 

“Where the hell am I?” She blinked up at you and the two men standing over you and sat up quickly. "And why am I wet?"

“Jen, take it easy,” you breathed and tried to calm your shaking hands. “You passed out.” It wasn’t a total lie, and you already knew Jen would have a hard time believing any of this. You certainly did, until you saw it for yourself. "I splashed some water on you to try to get you to wake up."

“I…I don’t even remember coming inside. I pulled up to your driveway, and then something happened…” her words fell off as you could sense her trying to remember. “There was black smoke.” Her eyes widened and you panicked. 

“You must have hallucinated or something,” you quickly tried to fill in the gaps. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” she rubbed at her forehead before she took on the two men behind you. Her eyebrows went upwards as she tried to place the two of them. “Is that…?”

Before anyone could say anything else, you interjected. “Jimmy and Ben, my new neighbors. They, uh, they heard me yelling for help when you passed out,” you lied through your teeth. You had lied to her more than once tonight, and that didn’t sit well with you, but the alternative (the truth) was too complicated. “They came to help.” Dean and Sam both managed a small nod as they watched over Jen. “Here, let me walk you both out.”

“You sure?” Dean eyed you carefully as you stood and helped your friend to her feet. You led her to the couch, but her gaze stayed on Dean. 

“I’m sure,” you answered quickly. “I’ll get her some food and water. I’m sure it was just a low blood sugar thing.”

“I don’t have low blood sugar,” Jen’s voice was low but she plopped down on the couch anyway. 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” your words were jumbled together. You just wanted to get Dean and Sam out. Jen had read the articles, you knew she would recognize Dean once she fully became aware of her surroundings, if she hadn’t already. The whole demon thing was hard enough for you to understand, and you had witnessed it for yourself. 

You gently placed a hand on Dean’s back and one on Sam’s as you ushered them to the door. Once you were through the doorway, you pulled the door shut behind you and closed your eyes. It felt like the first time you could take a breath since this entire ordeal started (and to be honest, since you had stumbled upon the articles about Dean in the first place). 

“Jimmy and Ben?” Dean’s voice was low as he eyed you cautiously. He didn’t know where you stood in all of this, but was dying to find out. To be honest, you didn't even know yourself; there was so much to wrap your mind around.

“I panicked,” you matched his volume. “I couldn’t tell her the truth. She just got done reading articles about how you’re both murderers and are supposed to be dead. I’m sure she’ll put it together once she sees your pictures again. I just have to figure out how to explain it to her. She’s never going to understand.” You nibbled subconsciously on your bottom lip. Once you realized you were doing it, your eyes popped up to Dean. His words from that night were all you could process: “What’d I tell you about that lip?” You released it immediately, though you could tell by the way he clenched his teeth and his jaw tightened, he had noticed. 

“Do you understand?” Dean asked gently. Whatever hold you had over him a moment ago, he had pushed it out of his brain and refocused on the situation you were currently in. 

“Not in the least,” you sighed as the weight of everything seemed to fall over you; you had to lean against the door just to hold yourself up. “But I’m realizing there are things I guess I just can’t understand. And maybe you aren’t a psychopath and maybe you were telling me the truth. Is Jen going to be alright?”

Dean offered a small smile, but his eyes still pierced through you—it was almost as if he was worried if he looked away, you might keel over. “She’ll be fine. She might have weird memories, but physically, she’ll be alright.”

You nodded, satisfied with that answer. “So what does this all mean? And that was a demon?” Your eyes danced between them and then steadied on Sam. “And you—how did you get into my house? I have so many questions.” You sounded exasperated, because that’s exactly what you were. 

Sam smiled cautiously. It seemed like these boys were worried if they weren’t careful, you might break. “It was way too easy. You really should lock your windows,” he chuckled lightly before he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m Sam, by the way. It’s nice to meet you,” he put his hand out for you to shake. You were hesitant, but you took it. After all, these guys had just saved your life. 

“We’re gonna stay close, once Jen leaves, let’s talk, alright?” Dean offered, still with a low tone. “I’m sure if Meg knows about you, others do too. Or they will soon enough. We’ll park a few houses down and keep an eye out.”

“And what about Meg? Is she truly gone?” You watched them nervously. 

“For now,” Dean answered. “She’ll find a way out of hell, she always does. If word gets out, which it will, about what we’re trying to do, she’ll claw her way out before she lets it happen. Most of them will…” his words were hard and serious. This was serious. 

“I have so many questions,” the words came out in a breath. Now that the shock was wearing off, the utter fear, anxiety and physical pain from falling twice was starting to set in. 

“I know you do, sweetheart,” it almost seemed like Dean winced after he said the word, but you ignored it. “We’ll get there, I promise. Just try to relax. You’re safe right now, and I intend to keep it that way.”

You knew he meant it by the force of his words and the look in his eyes. You nodded. 

“Okay, then,” you took a shaky breath and straightened yourself so you weren’t leaning against the door. “I’ll, um, I’ll call you?” You glanced back at Dean and he nodded. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, like there was something he wanted to do. But instead, he and Sam walked down your front steps and to the street to head back to the car. 

You took a deep breath before you went inside. 

“So, wanna know what’s weird?” Jen asked as you rinsed the dishes. You made her sit at the table and drink her water, even after she tried to insist on helping you. She hadn’t brought up anything that had happened, and you were thankful, though surprised. You had a twisting feeling in your gut that told you that was about to change. 

“Hmm?” You hummed as you put the rinsed dish in the dishwasher. 

“Your neighbor looks a lot like Dean…” she eyed you over her water glass. 

Thankfully, the dish had made it on the rack before it slipped out of your hands. You let a few seconds pass before you laughed nervously. 

“Really? I guess I didn’t see it,” you avoided eye contact even though you could feel her gaze. 

Jen stood from her seat and you eyed her carefully. There were uneasy feelings when you looked at her that you couldn’t forget. You knew it wasn’t her before—she didn’t have some crazy superpower and she couldn’t fling you against a wall. But still, it was hard to separate what happened with Meg from your friend standing beside you. 

“Oh, please,” she gave you a look that told you she knew you weren’t giving her the whole story. “The man you’ve been trying to forget for three days has an uncanny resemblance to your ‘neighbor’ and you don’t notice?” She folded her arms across her chest. 

“Jen, I can’t explain it,” you said simply with a sigh as you finally turned to face her. “I’m sorry for everything—I’m sorry you passed out, I’m sorry for dragging you into the whole Dean thing. I’m just sorry.”

Her gaze softened as you blabbed in the middle of your kitchen. “Hey, you don’t owe me any apologies, okay?” If only she knew the truth. “I’m your best friend. You don’t have to apologize for anything. And you can talk to me, alright?” You nodded once and focused your gaze on the tile by your feet. “Look, it’s been a long night. I’m exhausted. I’m gonna head out, but can we talk tomorrow? Please?” She tilted her head so you’d look at her. 

Tomorrow. At least it gave you some time to process everything. “Tomorrow sounds good,” you replied. Jen sighed and wrapped her arms around you in a hug. “You sure you’re okay to drive home?” Worry bubbled through you. Even though Dean had said she would be alright, you just couldn’t be sure. Hell, you weren’t sure of anything at that moment. 

“Oh, I’m fine,” she said as she pulled back with a small smile. “It takes me maybe five minutes to get home. I’ll even text you when I get there.”

“Okay, deal,” you smiled back. You walked your friend to the door and promised her a phone call the next day. Your arms folded across your chest as you stood on your front porch and watched her pull away, partially to block the cool night air in Virginia, but also to protect yourself from everything that had terrified you that night. Both sent shivers up your spine. 

As soon as her tail lights turned down another street, headlights illuminated behind you. Just as promised, it looked as though Dean and Sam had parked just a few houses down the block. 

As they pulled up to the curb in front of your home, you recognized that it wasn’t the Impala. 

Both doors opened at the same time, and you tried to manage a smile as they got out of the car. “How’re you doing?” Dean asked as they climbed the steps to your porch. 

A shrug lifted and dropped your shoulders. “It’s been a weird three days, putting it lightly.”

You opened the door to welcome them inside. 

“Ha,” Dean chuckled lightly. “I can imagine.” You realized how he must have felt after not hearing from you. While you had gone through your own misery and fear of losing him because you thought he was some psychopathic killer, to then realizing he was telling the truth, he must have been so confused and worried. 

“Hey, uh, could I use your restroom?” Sam asked as he cleared his throat. You nodded and showed him the way. It was pretty obvious he was trying to give you and Dean a moment. 

Dean hesitated, but came back to stand in front of you after Sam went down the hall. 

“I owe you an apology,” you said softly as you tried to calm your heart as it raced in your chest. 

“No you don’t,” he shook his head adamantly and shoved his hands in his pockets to busy them so he wouldn’t reach out and touch you. “You had every right to run for the hills. In fact, I owe you an apology.” Before you could say anything, he continued. “There are a lot of things I should’ve done…and probably some things I shouldn’t have, too.” His tone had dropped. “You’re wrapped up in this because of me. And I’m sorry for that.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured as you studied his eyes. They were the same as you remembered them from just a few days before. “I was interested in you from the jump. And I called you, remember?”

“Oh, I remember,” he chuckled softly as his face softened. “But I probably should’ve said no.”

You shook your head immediately without having to take a second thought. 

“No, please don’t say that,” you reached for his hands and pulled them from his pockets. The feeling of his skin on yours once more created a flutter in your chest that almost felt like pieces were being put back together. “Even knowing all that I know now, as crazy as it’s going to sound…I wouldn’t go back and change anything.”

Dean brought your hands up to his lips and left a soft kiss there. “I hear you. And I wouldn’t want to change it, either. But this life isn’t a life you want anything to do with. I should’ve been smarter about that. I usually am, but you were…”

“Different,” you answered for him with a small nod. “I know what you mean.” 

Sam had reemerged from the bathroom and slowly made his way into the living room. He cleared his throat to announce his presence. 

“So, what does this mean now? You’re sure Jen isn’t in any kind of danger?” Dean had let your hands go and you shifted your gaze to look at both of them. 

“I don’t think so,” Dean answered. “Meg wanted to get to us, and she knew she could do that through you. We’ll have a friend of ours keep an eye on Jen, just to be safe.” You felt okay with that answer, for now at least. “But you, on the other hand…” his words fell again as he looked at you. “I don’t wanna scare you when I say this—“

You cut him off with a wave of your hand. “With all I’ve witnessed and learned today, I don’t think I could be more scared than I already am. Lay it on me.” 

Dean offered up a small smile. “If Meg knows about you, then others will, too.” You nodded as you tried to process. “How do you feel about coming to Kansas for a little while?”

A/N: Happy Thursday, friends! There's chapter 6 - how are we feeling? She finally is starting to make sense of everything (the best she can). And maybe going to Kansas with the Winchesters?

Thank you for reading, like, reblogging or commenting (or all of the above!). Feedback always brings me a lot of joy :)

Chapter 8 will be posted on (or maybe before, TBD) Thursday, 4/18!

Chapter 8 Preview:

“Hey, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dean started slowly. Both of the boys kept treating you like you were made of glass, which was a little bit annoying but also made sense. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“I’m okay,” you said out loud for him, but also for yourself. “I’m not really a big fan of the unknown…I’m a planner.” You mumbled as you looked around at your things.

“Not big on taking chances, huh?” Dean chuckled softly as his eyes watched you move. Again, it was like he was waiting for it all to set in and for you to crumble.

“Nope,” you sighed as you finally looked back at him. “Rule follower, remember?” You managed a half-smile as you remembered the first time you met in Atlanta.

“Oh, I remember,” Dean smirked back. He took a few steps towards you and you both sat on the edge of your bed. “Just keep in mind–this doesn’t have to be forever.” Your head had dipped a bit, so he moved his to find your gaze. 

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“You alright?” He asked gruffly as his eyes swept down your body, subsequently looking for any injuries. You nodded, unable to speak out loud from the confusion and terror coursing through you. His eyes returned to yours with a look that read as sympathetic, like he was sorry. 

Before he could move again, Meg returned her hold on you with a nod of her head. Your feet left the ground once more, and you couldn’t stop the scream that came up from your belly as you were pressed against the wall again. 

“Dammit, Meg!” Dean cursed. He took a step towards you and Meg stopped him in his tracks. 

“Uh, uh, uh,” she wagged her finger. “Not another step, Dean.”

“You wanted to talk? Well, you got me,” he held his hands out wide, and to you it looked like he was trying to show her that he had no weapons or wasn’t trying to threaten her. It made you wonder what kind of weapon could stop Meg, or a demon, rather. It also made you worried for your friend who, you guessed, was trapped in there somewhere. But really, you had no idea. 

“Yeah, well, something tells me that if I let her go, this won’t just be a friendly chat anymore,” she rounded the corner a bit as Dean shifted in the living room. Her back was now to the kitchen, which led to your laundry room and back door. Your eyes noticed movement in the shadows of the laundry room. You would’ve screamed if Meg still didn’t have her hold on you. 

“What do you want, Meg?” You knew Dean had to see the man slowly inching his way into the kitchen, but he didn’t falter. He didn’t even allow his eyes to pass over the shadow. Instead, he continued talking to Meg. 

“Word on the street is that you and your idiot brother are trying to close the gates of Hell,” she shifted her body so she was completely facing Dean. “You’ve got a lot of people looking for you, ya know.”

“Ah, come on. I shouldn’t be that hard to find,” Dean quipped back. 

At that very moment, the shadow stepped fully into the light. He was a tall man, and based on Meg’s comment, you assumed he may have been Dean’s brother, Sam. In two quick, long strides he was just a few feet behind Meg. You noticed the gallon jug of what looked like water in his arms. In one quick movement, he doused Meg with the liquid and she screamed. She writhed against the water, and fog or smoke started to lift off of her skin. 

As soon as the water had been tossed, you felt the weight fall away and gravity took over. You fell to the ground in a heap just like you had before. Dean reached you quickly, he tentatively put a hand on your shoulder and eyed the situation in front of him. The taller man in the room snapped what looked like cuffs on Meg's wrists. She sputtered as she looked down at them. 

“Devil’s trap on cuffs?” She tried to mock, but somehow you could tell she was frustrated. “Very clever, boys.” She spit out some of the water that she had ingested. You clambered to your feet and brushed your hair out of your eyes as you attempted to regain your composure. Dean moved in front of you and blocked your view. “Aren’t you tired of playing games? I sure am.” 

“You’re the one who started this,” the taller man pushed back as he held onto her arm. Even though her hands were locked in handcuffs, it seemed he was still nervous she would run off. 

“Oh, come on, Sasquatch,” she rolled her eyes. “You know you wouldn’t have listened to me if the circumstances were different.” Her eyes moved towards where you stood behind Dean. She peered her head to see around him. As soon as she made eye contact, you averted your gaze. 

“Don’t look at her,” Dean said firmly as he adjusted his stance. “You know what they say, Meg. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes.” 

“Yeah, well, what now, hot shot? You gonna use the demon blade on me? Take me hostage? What happens when I ditch this meat suit?” She bit back. Your eyes focused on Dean’s back and wondered what any of that meant. The memory of what Meg had referred to earlier surfaced: whatever happens to that body, happens to Jen.

“Jen’s my best friend,” there was a slight stutter to your soft voice as you tried to cope with everything that had happened. “Don’t hurt her.”

Dean’s head cocked to the side as he listened to you. You watched the muscle that lined his jaw flinch before he turned back to Meg. 

“We’re gonna send this bitch back to Hell,” Dean’s words came out strong and confident. It sent a shiver throughout your body. Before you could ask what that meant, Dean seemed to sense your question. “Don’t worry, it’s not gonna hurt your friend.” 

Meg seemed nervous, but Sam started speaking in a language you didn’t recognize. Latin, maybe? But as he spoke, Meg seemed to become very uncomfortable. She pulled against the cuffs, and then something happened that you had only ever seen in movies before—the kind of movies that gave you nightmares. You peered over Dean’s shoulder and watched as Jen’s head shook violently side to side. Her mouth opened and then thick black smoke began to funnel out of her. Instinctively, you reached forward and grabbed a fistful of Dean’s jacket. A tremble coursed through your body. 

And then just like that, your friend crumpled to the floor. Sam rushed to her with a key and undid the handcuffs. 

You pushed past Dean and dropped to your knees by her. She slowly opened her eyes. 

“Where the hell am I?” She blinked up at you and the two men standing over you and sat up quickly. "And why am I wet?"

“Jen, take it easy,” you breathed and tried to calm your shaking hands. “You passed out.” It wasn’t a total lie, and you already knew Jen would have a hard time believing any of this. You certainly did, until you saw it for yourself. "I splashed some water on you to try to get you to wake up."

“I…I don’t even remember coming inside. I pulled up to your driveway, and then something happened…” her words fell off as you could sense her trying to remember. “There was black smoke.” Her eyes widened and you panicked. 

“You must have hallucinated or something,” you quickly tried to fill in the gaps. 

“Yeah, I guess so,” she rubbed at her forehead before she took on the two men behind you. Her eyebrows went upwards as she tried to place the two of them. “Is that…?”

Before anyone could say anything else, you interjected. “Jimmy and Ben, my new neighbors. They, uh, they heard me yelling for help when you passed out,” you lied through your teeth. You had lied to her more than once tonight, and that didn’t sit well with you, but the alternative (the truth) was too complicated. “They came to help.” Dean and Sam both managed a small nod as they watched over Jen. “Here, let me walk you both out.”

“You sure?” Dean eyed you carefully as you stood and helped your friend to her feet. You led her to the couch, but her gaze stayed on Dean. 

“I’m sure,” you answered quickly. “I’ll get her some food and water. I’m sure it was just a low blood sugar thing.”

“I don’t have low blood sugar,” Jen’s voice was low but she plopped down on the couch anyway. 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” your words were jumbled together. You just wanted to get Dean and Sam out. Jen had read the articles, you knew she would recognize Dean once she fully became aware of her surroundings, if she hadn’t already. The whole demon thing was hard enough for you to understand, and you had witnessed it for yourself. 

You gently placed a hand on Dean’s back and one on Sam’s as you ushered them to the door. Once you were through the doorway, you pulled the door shut behind you and closed your eyes. It felt like the first time you could take a breath since this entire ordeal started (and to be honest, since you had stumbled upon the articles about Dean in the first place). 

“Jimmy and Ben?” Dean’s voice was low as he eyed you cautiously. He didn’t know where you stood in all of this, but was dying to find out. To be honest, you didn't even know yourself; there was so much to wrap your mind around.

“I panicked,” you matched his volume. “I couldn’t tell her the truth. She just got done reading articles about how you’re both murderers and are supposed to be dead. I’m sure she’ll put it together once she sees your pictures again. I just have to figure out how to explain it to her. She’s never going to understand.” You nibbled subconsciously on your bottom lip. Once you realized you were doing it, your eyes popped up to Dean. His words from that night were all you could process: “What’d I tell you about that lip?” You released it immediately, though you could tell by the way he clenched his teeth and his jaw tightened, he had noticed. 

“Do you understand?” Dean asked gently. Whatever hold you had over him a moment ago, he had pushed it out of his brain and refocused on the situation you were currently in. 

“Not in the least,” you sighed as the weight of everything seemed to fall over you; you had to lean against the door just to hold yourself up. “But I’m realizing there are things I guess I just can’t understand. And maybe you aren’t a psychopath and maybe you were telling me the truth. Is Jen going to be alright?”

Dean offered a small smile, but his eyes still pierced through you—it was almost as if he was worried if he looked away, you might keel over. “She’ll be fine. She might have weird memories, but physically, she’ll be alright.”

You nodded, satisfied with that answer. “So what does this all mean? And that was a demon?” Your eyes danced between them and then steadied on Sam. “And you—how did you get into my house? I have so many questions.” You sounded exasperated, because that’s exactly what you were. 

Sam smiled cautiously. It seemed like these boys were worried if they weren’t careful, you might break. “It was way too easy. You really should lock your windows,” he chuckled lightly before he rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m Sam, by the way. It’s nice to meet you,” he put his hand out for you to shake. You were hesitant, but you took it. After all, these guys had just saved your life. 

“We’re gonna stay close, once Jen leaves, let’s talk, alright?” Dean offered, still with a low tone. “I’m sure if Meg knows about you, others do too. Or they will soon enough. We’ll park a few houses down and keep an eye out.”

“And what about Meg? Is she truly gone?” You watched them nervously. 

“For now,” Dean answered. “She’ll find a way out of hell, she always does. If word gets out, which it will, about what we’re trying to do, she’ll claw her way out before she lets it happen. Most of them will…” his words were hard and serious. This was serious. 

“I have so many questions,” the words came out in a breath. Now that the shock was wearing off, the utter fear, anxiety and physical pain from falling twice was starting to set in. 

“I know you do, sweetheart,” it almost seemed like Dean winced after he said the word, but you ignored it. “We’ll get there, I promise. Just try to relax. You’re safe right now, and I intend to keep it that way.”

You knew he meant it by the force of his words and the look in his eyes. You nodded. 

“Okay, then,” you took a shaky breath and straightened yourself so you weren’t leaning against the door. “I’ll, um, I’ll call you?” You glanced back at Dean and he nodded. He seemed to hesitate for a moment, like there was something he wanted to do. But instead, he and Sam walked down your front steps and to the street to head back to the car. 

You took a deep breath before you went inside. 

“So, wanna know what’s weird?” Jen asked as you rinsed the dishes. You made her sit at the table and drink her water, even after she tried to insist on helping you. She hadn’t brought up anything that had happened, and you were thankful, though surprised. You had a twisting feeling in your gut that told you that was about to change. 

“Hmm?” You hummed as you put the rinsed dish in the dishwasher. 

“Your neighbor looks a lot like Dean…” she eyed you over her water glass. 

Thankfully, the dish had made it on the rack before it slipped out of your hands. You let a few seconds pass before you laughed nervously. 

“Really? I guess I didn’t see it,” you avoided eye contact even though you could feel her gaze. 

Jen stood from her seat and you eyed her carefully. There were uneasy feelings when you looked at her that you couldn’t forget. You knew it wasn’t her before—she didn’t have some crazy superpower and she couldn’t fling you against a wall. But still, it was hard to separate what happened with Meg from your friend standing beside you. 

“Oh, please,” she gave you a look that told you she knew you weren’t giving her the whole story. “The man you’ve been trying to forget for three days has an uncanny resemblance to your ‘neighbor’ and you don’t notice?” She folded her arms across her chest. 

“Jen, I can’t explain it,” you said simply with a sigh as you finally turned to face her. “I’m sorry for everything—I’m sorry you passed out, I’m sorry for dragging you into the whole Dean thing. I’m just sorry.”

Her gaze softened as you blabbed in the middle of your kitchen. “Hey, you don’t owe me any apologies, okay?” If only she knew the truth. “I’m your best friend. You don’t have to apologize for anything. And you can talk to me, alright?” You nodded once and focused your gaze on the tile by your feet. “Look, it’s been a long night. I’m exhausted. I’m gonna head out, but can we talk tomorrow? Please?” She tilted her head so you’d look at her. 

Tomorrow. At least it gave you some time to process everything. “Tomorrow sounds good,” you replied. Jen sighed and wrapped her arms around you in a hug. “You sure you’re okay to drive home?” Worry bubbled through you. Even though Dean had said she would be alright, you just couldn’t be sure. Hell, you weren’t sure of anything at that moment. 

“Oh, I’m fine,” she said as she pulled back with a small smile. “It takes me maybe five minutes to get home. I’ll even text you when I get there.”

“Okay, deal,” you smiled back. You walked your friend to the door and promised her a phone call the next day. Your arms folded across your chest as you stood on your front porch and watched her pull away, partially to block the cool night air in Virginia, but also to protect yourself from everything that had terrified you that night. Both sent shivers up your spine. 

As soon as her tail lights turned down another street, headlights illuminated behind you. Just as promised, it looked as though Dean and Sam had parked just a few houses down the block. 

As they pulled up to the curb in front of your home, you recognized that it wasn’t the Impala. 

Both doors opened at the same time, and you tried to manage a smile as they got out of the car. “How’re you doing?” Dean asked as they climbed the steps to your porch. 

A shrug lifted and dropped your shoulders. “It’s been a weird three days, putting it lightly.”

You opened the door to welcome them inside. 

“Ha,” Dean chuckled lightly. “I can imagine.” You realized how he must have felt after not hearing from you. While you had gone through your own misery and fear of losing him because you thought he was some psychopathic killer, to then realizing he was telling the truth, he must have been so confused and worried. 

“Hey, uh, could I use your restroom?” Sam asked as he cleared his throat. You nodded and showed him the way. It was pretty obvious he was trying to give you and Dean a moment. 

Dean hesitated, but came back to stand in front of you after Sam went down the hall. 

“I owe you an apology,” you said softly as you tried to calm your heart as it raced in your chest. 

“No you don’t,” he shook his head adamantly and shoved his hands in his pockets to busy them so he wouldn’t reach out and touch you. “You had every right to run for the hills. In fact, I owe you an apology.” Before you could say anything, he continued. “There are a lot of things I should’ve done…and probably some things I shouldn’t have, too.” His tone had dropped. “You’re wrapped up in this because of me. And I’m sorry for that.”

“It’s okay,” you murmured as you studied his eyes. They were the same as you remembered them from just a few days before. “I was interested in you from the jump. And I called you, remember?”

“Oh, I remember,” he chuckled softly as his face softened. “But I probably should’ve said no.”

You shook your head immediately without having to take a second thought. 

“No, please don’t say that,” you reached for his hands and pulled them from his pockets. The feeling of his skin on yours once more created a flutter in your chest that almost felt like pieces were being put back together. “Even knowing all that I know now, as crazy as it’s going to sound…I wouldn’t go back and change anything.”

Dean brought your hands up to his lips and left a soft kiss there. “I hear you. And I wouldn’t want to change it, either. But this life isn’t a life you want anything to do with. I should’ve been smarter about that. I usually am, but you were…”

“Different,” you answered for him with a small nod. “I know what you mean.” 

Sam had reemerged from the bathroom and slowly made his way into the living room. He cleared his throat to announce his presence. 

“So, what does this mean now? You’re sure Jen isn’t in any kind of danger?” Dean had let your hands go and you shifted your gaze to look at both of them. 

“I don’t think so,” Dean answered. “Meg wanted to get to us, and she knew she could do that through you. We’ll have a friend of ours keep an eye on Jen, just to be safe.” You felt okay with that answer, for now at least. “But you, on the other hand…” his words fell again as he looked at you. “I don’t wanna scare you when I say this—“

You cut him off with a wave of your hand. “With all I’ve witnessed and learned today, I don’t think I could be more scared than I already am. Lay it on me.” 

Dean offered up a small smile. “If Meg knows about you, then others will, too.” You nodded as you tried to process. “How do you feel about coming to Kansas for a little while?”

A/N: Happy Thursday, friends! There's chapter 6 - how are we feeling? She finally is starting to make sense of everything (the best she can). And maybe going to Kansas with the Winchesters?

Thank you for reading, like, reblogging or commenting (or all of the above!). Feedback always brings me a lot of joy :)

Chapter 8 will be posted on (or maybe before, TBD) Thursday, 4/18!

Chapter 8 Preview:

“Hey, I know this is a lot to take in,” Dean started slowly. Both of the boys kept treating you like you were made of glass, which was a little bit annoying but also made sense. It felt like you were all waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

“I’m okay,” you said out loud for him, but also for yourself. “I’m not really a big fan of the unknown…I’m a planner.” You mumbled as you looked around at your things.

“Not big on taking chances, huh?” Dean chuckled softly as his eyes watched you move. Again, it was like he was waiting for it all to set in and for you to crumble.

“Nope,” you sighed as you finally looked back at him. “Rule follower, remember?” You managed a half-smile as you remembered the first time you met in Atlanta.

“Oh, I remember,” Dean smirked back. He took a few steps towards you and you both sat on the edge of your bed. “Just keep in mind–this doesn’t have to be forever.” Your head had dipped a bit, so he moved his to find your gaze. 

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