Reckless [Dean Winchester]

14. The Cassity Farm

I turn my head at Sam's footsteps. I acknowledge him with a nod.

"Hey, we, uh, we have any graveyard dirt?" Dean asks his brother.

"We should. Why?"

"Yarrow?"

"Yeah." But something in Sam's face tells me what Dean is planning isn't good. "No. Dean, no. We're not summoning a crossroads demon."

"Plan 'A' bombed, so welcome to Plan 'B'-we get some red-eyed bitch in a trap, then we hold a knife on her until she calls us in a pooch-special delivery."

"Yeah, except when Crowley finds out we're dialing up Hell, he won't send one Hellhound-he'll send a hundred. That's not a plan, Dean-that's suicide."

"Well, you got a better idea?"

"Any idea is better than yours right now," I snap, with arms crossed. Please, Sam, have a better idea.

"Yeah, we stay here," Sam proposes. He's got my attention. "I just talked to Alice in the barn. Carl didn't sell his soul for oil-he sold it for Alice."

"His wife?" I inquire.

"He loved her, she barely noticed him, so he made a deal. And now that time's up, it's like she barely even knew the guy."

"You think our demon signed up more than one schmuck while he was in town?" Dean asks.

"Wouldn't be the first time." A loud rumble of thunder roars overhead. Great. Storms. Fun. "Look, Dean, this family's rich because someone booked a one-way ticket downstairs. And as of tomorrow, they're all gonna be right here."

"And you want to scope 'em out?"

"I want to kill a Hellhound and not die. How 'bout you?"

"Two days-then we do it my way."

I'm glad Dean decides to accept Sam's idea, because I don't want to leave with storms overhead. I've been in one too many of them. This time, I'd like to have something over my head and not be exposed. So far I've been lucky to not be struck by lightning; I don't intend to get struck tonight.

It takes a while for us to decide on sleeping arrangements. Sam insists that I take a cot, as he doesn't want me sleeping on the floor. Dean is opposed to sharing a bed with his brother, because apparently the idea weirds him out. In the end, Sam keeps a cot to himself, and I'm forced to choose between which one I want.

Not much of a choice, really. I can either share a bed with a guy who's been nice to me since day one or I can sleep next to the guy who set ground rules in the bunker and keeps insulting me.

The only thing that keeps me awake is the storm rolling overhead. I put my hands over my ears as I sit on the edge of Sam's cot. He's turned over and is already out. I cringe as I see lightning peek through the other side of the door. I refrain from rocking back and forth. It'll pass. You're safe. Nobody's going to come in the middle of the night and kill you. I close my eyes and tremble as another crack of thunder sounds. Go away, go away, go away!

I yelp rather quietly as I feel calloused fingers wrap around my wrists. My eyes pop open, and I try my hardest to stop shaking as I take in Dean's appearance.

"Not one for storms, huh?" he whispers.

"Would you be if you've had to endure them outside?"

"Here." He pulls me off Sam's cot and helps me transition onto his. I look at him strangely with tired, blue eyes. "I probably won't be sleeping much. He needs his sleep anyway."

"All of us do," I protest through a yawn. I hiss as I see lightning from the corner of my eye. "Why are you doing this, Dean?"

"Just because I call you names doesn't mean I hate you, Max."

"You sure? Because from day one-"

"Things have changed since then."

"What's up with that, anyway?"

"With what?"

"Calling me Max instead of...you know what."

"Oh. It gets to be a mouthful sometimes."

"Son of a-" I don't get "bitch" out, as my heart is galloping in my chest. Another flash of lightning gets me scared. "I-I'm sorry. It's a stupid thing to be afraid of."

"Everyone's afraid of something."

"Even you and Sam?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Even us."

"You don't seem like the scaredy-cat type, either of you."

"You didn't either, at first glance," Dean reminds me quietly.

I cringe at more thunder. The rain hasn't fallen yet. For some reason, now of all times, a name comes to mind. "Who's Crowley?"

"Hm?"

"You mentioned that name earlier. I'm guessing he's a demon?"

"More like the King of Hell."

"Seriously?"

"Look at me and try to see if I'm lying," he taunts bitterly.

"No, no, I believe you." I don't know why the name is stuck in my brain now. It's definitely important to keep. But I have no idea what the guy looks like, so unless he introduces himself to me (which I really hope that doesn't happen), I'm in the dark about his appearance.

"Is this helping?"

I nod. "I couldn't do this on my own, I'd be crazy."

"Well, you are a little bit."

I look at him wryly. "Really, says the guy who hunts monsters for a living."

"You're running around with us."

I snort. I barely cringe when I hear the thunder again. Now the rain is falling; it's lightly pounding the roof over our heads. I shiver out of habit. I'm used to be soaked, not being sheltered from bad weather.

"I'll stay awake as long as you need me to," Dean blurts.

What's with this good guy act? The fatigue has got to be screwing with him. We don't talk anymore; we're laying in each other's company. Me, I'm wincing at every thunder and lightning attack. The rain is the only calming part about this storm, and I guess Dean is as well.

Somehow, my heart slows down back to normal. I find my eyelids too heavy to keep up, so I close them. I'm too tired to protest that Dean let go of my wrists-he's still holding onto them.

It's almost like he's afraid to let go or something. Like if he does, it'll be the end of me, or the end of him.

**[whispers] Dax. Any fanart is really, really encouraged. I'd love to see some!**