a s h i v er crawls down his spine & a little jerking wiggle accompanies it. he’d take a room full of demons before he’d have to deal with one of those … l e g l e s s a b o m i n a t i o n s
b u t look out mister winchester your m a s c u l i n i t y is on the line
” i ain’t scared. i was uh. y’know. scoutin’ ahead “ v e r y quickly. a w a y from the s n a k e
❝– s'okay to be scared, dean. even big guys like you have to be ‘fraid of s o m e t h i n g.❞
she’ll tease him now, because it’s irresistible. she steps forward, to get a better look at the little guy. yeah, she’s 98.99% s u r e he’s harmless. with the toe of her boot, she nudges it’s tail. it doesn’t budge. gives a feeble hiss, and slithers forward a hair.
[ for a moment, he forgets himself, and lets himself admire her, the curve of her neck and the curl of her blonde hair all the way down to those too, too long legs. how she manages to pull off just-woke-up, dean has absolutely no idea, but it’s a look he wouldn’t mind seeing on her every morning. ]
[ but those are dangerous thoughts to have. ]
[ and dean’s pretty out of it, so he doesn’t smile back, doesn’t even catch it as his eyes dart around the rest of her, curious and cautious. she’s never done this before, not even on dean’s darkest days. probably especially on dean’s darkest days. he wonders what makes today different. ]
[ not for the first time, he wonders what makes him different. why she likes him. he’s so goddamn awful to her most of the time, and still she smiles at him, comes to comfort him in his bed when she can fucking well tell he’s having a bad day. ]
[ the words don’t quite process at first, dean’s sleepy brain working hard to catch up. his eyes follow her the whole time, but don’t react until she tucks down the bed sheet. he wonders if he’s dreaming. ]
[ but sleepy brain registers the command for what it is, and he lays down, eyelids heavy, but not with sleep. ]
his warmth pools around him in between the sheets, and cold as she is, she slides in closer to capture some of it for herself. he’s something special, she thinks to herself, i left the safety of my bed, for his. her muscles, wiry and tender, are heavy from a hard days work. her body begs her for sleep, so she settles down herself, turning on her side, and staying close to his.
the smile slides off her face, lost on him, and though her body is tired, her mind keeps turning, the effort almost painful. her temple finds a niche against his shoulder. why is she here? it’s not an easy answer. and to be frank, she hadn’t given it much thought. because he needed her? that’s not true. because he would’ve done the same? that’s not even remotely true.
it hadn’t really crossed her mind. he wasn’t doing too well, and she wanted to make it better. it’s not even all that questionable for her; she wants him to be happy, and that was shot to hell before they met. before she was born. so, she’ll settle for making him better, while he’s here. for the next best thing.
her hand rests on his stomach, and finally, it seems, she closes her eyes. tries to make herself comfortable on the harder mattress, letting out a sleepy sigh. the bed is so unfamiliar, and so is he, but she’s so damn tired.
