Hunted {Dean Winchester 3}

Chapter 43

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After helping Dean bury the body, we headed back inside. And by help, I mean I stood there and watched as he looked hot. I complimented him multiple times so I did do something that was helpful. Just not the manual labor part. I kept his spirits up. 

Sam was just finishing a phone call when we walked back into the living room of the abandoned house we were staying at. "You bury the body?" He asked.

"Yeah." Dean said. "Poor schmuck. It's like these demons ride them hard just for kicks."

"If what the shadow woman said was true and Saige didn't just stab a man in the head." Sam mumbled.

"Hey." Dean warned, grabbing a beer bottle. "Don't start that shit." He moved across the room to the old couch and sitting down next to Evie. I sat down on his lap, brushing my fingers over the back of his neck. "Uh. What's the phone call about?"

"Remember that thing in the paper yesterday?" Sam asked. 

"Stripper suffocates dude with thighs?" Dean asked.

"That was in the paper?" I asked.

"Yeah." Dean nodded, winking at me. "If I gotta die, that's how I wanna go."

"Too bad, buddy. Not happening." I patted his shoulder. 

"The other thing." Sam corrected. 

"Right. The guy that walks into the ER and kneels over dead, his stomach ripped out?" Dean asked. 

Sam leaned against the mantel. "His liver, actually. Anyways, I found something interesting."

"Not as interesting as strippers murdering people with their thighs, I bet." Millie spoke up from across the room. 

"What?" Dean asked.

"The dead body? Covered in bloody fingerprints. Not the victims." Sam stated.

"Okay, great. My man Dave Caruso'll be stoked to hear it." Dean remarked.

"Those fingerprints match a guy who died in 1981." 

"Really?" Dean asked. "So what are we talking? Uh, walking dead? Walking, killing dead?"

"Maybe." 

"Zombies do like the other 'other white meat.'" Dean said. "Hmm. Speaking of, what do you care about zombies?"

"What do you mean?" Sam asked.

"Well, you've been on soul saving detail for months now, we're three weeks out, and all of a sudden you're interested in some hot zombie action?"

"What if the stripper was a zombie?" Millie asked suddenly.

"Is that seriously what you're thinking about?" I asked.

"No, just popped into my head. I was thinking about where we're going next." 

"Hey, man, you're the one who's been gung ho to hunt." Sam told his brother. "I just thought I'd be doing you a favor."

"No, no, no. I didn't say I didn't wanna do it, okay? Obviously, I wanna hunt some zombies." Dean said. 

"Okay, fine. Whatever."

I smiled. "What about our plans, Dean-O?" I asked quietly, leaning in to kiss him. The now week-old stubble covering his jaw tickling my skin. 

Dean let out a low sound against my lips. "You just love to torture me, don't you?"

"A little."

"Get a room." Sam and Millie said in unison.

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