Hunted {Dean Winchester 3}

Chapter 23

"And all these Martha Steward wannabes buying these fancy wreaths." Dean began.

"Yeah, it's pretty much like putting a neon sign on your front door saying: 'come kill us.'" Sam replied. 

"Great." Dean muttered. 

"Isn't it?" Millie asked.

"Huh. When you sacrifice to Holdenacar guess what he give you?" Sam asked. 

"Lap dances, hopefully." Dean replied.

I moved toward him, slapping him in the back of the head. "You are vile."

Dean rubbed the back of his head. "Ow."

"Mild weather." Sam stated. 

"Kind of like no snow in the middle of December in Michigan." Dean pointed out, moving to sit at the table by the window where I stood.

"For instance." Sam shrugged. 

"Do you know how to kill it yet?" Dean asked, placing his hand on my thigh, moving it from the top of my knee up just under my skirt before moving back down. 

"No. Bobby's working on that now." Sam explained.

"So do we just pawn all of our work off on poor Bobby? Then pretend we did it and talk about lore?" Millie asked. "Is there a handbook to this job? Can I purchase a copy?"

"We gotta figure out where they're selling those wreaths." Sam continued. 

"You think they're selling them on purpose?" Dean asked. "Feeding the victims to this thing?"

Sam sighed. "Let's find out."

___

"I'm serious, Si, what do you want?" Dean asked, lips brushing over my neck as we sat in the parking lot of a convenience store, waiting for Sam and Millie so we could go to the store where the wreaths were being sold. 

"I'm serious when I said I don't need anything, Dean." I gave his shoulder a light shove. 

Dean lifted his head, meeting my eyes. "I could take you down to the hospital and let you take your pick of any of the babies...?"

I blinked. "We are not stealing innocent babies from loving parents--"

"They could have shitty parents. We could be saving them."

"Highly unlikely that we'd choose the one with terrible parents. I told you, Dean, I'm fine. I don't need kids."

Dean sighed, taking my hand. "I just know how much...everything hurt you, Si. Okay? I'm not blind or stupid. I know you...And I'm so sorry you had to go through that."

I nodded. "I know you're not blind or stupid. I never said you were." I paused, staring down at our intertwined hands as he brushed his thumb over my knuckles. "You know...for that week and a half I thought I was...you know, I...I couldn't help but be...I don't know, relieved."

"Relieved?" Dean asked. "You mean happy?"

"No, Dean. I meant what I said. I was relived because...if I couldn't save you by the end of the year, at least I'd still have you. I'd have something good that came from our love, something to live for. I'd have a part of you." I rambled. "I know it sounds stupid and weird--And well, you know since Sam will be getting the car." I added jokingly. 

"No, I don't think you sound stupid." Dean told me. "...The doctors didn't say you couldn't...they said unlikely. Hell, baby, we beat the most unlikely odds known to man all the damn time. We could try."

I shook my head. "There's no point in getting our hopes up. I'd rather...just forget about it."

"If that's what you want."