REVIVE ▸ d. winchester [2] ✔

epilogue

Six Weeks Later.

"I will if you will."

From his spot next to the girl, Dean's response reaches Jackie's ears, muffled only by the pillow that separates the two of them. She detects a hint of a smile in his statement, despite her back being turned to him.

"Jack, I'm not dyeing my hair blonde."

Jackie slowly rolls over, the sheets sliding off her bare shoulders as she positions herself on her stomach. Looking up at Dean, she finds tiredness in his eyes, the early morning hours having yet to awaken him. 

"Didn't think you would. It was a long shot, anyways."

A smile dances on her lips and once Dean peeks a look at her, he can't help but return it. He sleepily reaches for the girl, pulling her into his side and enjoying the feeling of her bare skin against his chest. His lips dance lightly along the back of her neck, just as his fingertips gently glide over her waist and across her stomach. 

"I know you want out of here," Dean whispers. "I do, too. But you'd have to do a hell of a lot more than dye your hair to hide that pretty face of yours."

Jackie chuckles, smiling into her pillow. Sighing, she says, "You're right. I really don't want to dye my hair, anyways."

She feels another kiss on her shoulder. "Good. 'Cause I don't do bottle blondes, sweetheart."

"Oh, really?" Sarcasm seeps from her words.

She recieves another muffled response, along with a squeeze around her waist by his arm. "Mhm."

The warmth and silence of the morning rushes through her body. Well rested both mentally and physically, Jackie couldn't deny that the weeks she had used to rest and recover were greatly needed. She spent her time in good company and she took her time picking up the things she had left behind in her period of turmoil. Cooking, laundry, reading... the list was endlessly mundane yet fully appreciated. The tasks gave her the opportunity to familiarize herself with the expansive bunker, and she was quickly impressed by the vast amount of information the Men of Letters had accumulated.

She found herself spending copious amounts of time between the library- where she often read books with Sam and carried out research that the Men of Letters never had the opportunity to complete- and the bunker's shooting range. While in the six weeks that had passed she had shot countless bullets and thrown various knife-like weapons with Dean by her side, she had yet to pick up her old, beloved bow. If Dean noticed, he didn't say anything, and he instead turned her attention to the bets placed between the two on who could obtain the greatest number of bullseyes in the range. 

So far, neither seemed to falter, just as neither would accept the other's victory. It was a never-ending rivalry.

Each of her nights were usually spent in a very similar manner. While the first few days found her restless and unable to sleep through the night, with time, she gained a sense of peace. Whether or not this had to do with the presence of Dean in her bed as she slept was something she often pondered, despite her already knowing the answer. It only took a week for the two to regularly fall asleep side by side, and another week before they spent their nights doing more than just sleeping.

Of course, Zeke was a warm and welcome constant in her life once again. Each evening, once the sun began to sink and the snow continued to melt into spring, she found herself in the fielded area surrounding the bunker. Zeke would enjoy his freedom, stretching his legs as he ran across the muddied fields, and Jackie reveled in the cool, fresh air. She never saw any cars on distant roads, and she never felt the fear of being spotted outside of the bunker. The acreage outside of Lebanon, Kansas had soon become a refuge for Jackie, despite it being just a state away from where she was held in Nebraska's State Penitentiary.