Fallen

Chapter Eighteen

The drive to the boys' motel room is long. I'm still drained. Sam fell asleep in the front seat, but I'm terrified to close my eyes. I have this irrational fear that if I fall asleep, I'll never wake up. Why is Crowley's spell, or whatever the hell that was, still affecting me? Shouldn't my grace have overpowered it? Why is it taking so long to wear off? I lay my head down on the front seat between the boys and beg the spell to go away.

"You okay?" Dean asks.

"Yeah, just," I pause. I can't tell him what's really happening. He'll think my fear is stupid. "It's just taking a while for this thing to wear off," I say.

"Well why don't you lay back and try to sleep it off," he suggests. "I'll wake you up when we get back to the motel." Of coarse he would suggest that. Of coarse.

"Yeah," I say. I decide that it would be easier to just agree. "Okay."

I pick my head up off of the front seat head rest and stretch myself out across the whole back seat. From this angle, I can see Dean's face. I just stare at him for a moment. The streetlights illuminate his face in perfect intervals as we drive past them. He really is gorgeous.

I catch myself dozing off multiple times before we finally get to the motel. I knew my fear was irrational and ridiculous, but now I can confirm it to be true. Plus, I'm too tired to even think about trying to stay up all night.

Dean nudges Sam into consciousness, and we all file out of the Impala. Dean unlocks and opens the door. There are two beds and no couch, just like the last motel I was with them in. Great.

Whatever, I'm too tired to care. I grab one of the two pillows off of the bed on the left and make my way to the open space on the floor. I drop the pillow and get down into the floor. Before I can actually lay down, Dean speaks.

"What are you doing?" He asks.

"Going to sleep?" I say in a 'duh' tone of voice.

"On the floor?" Sam chimes in.

I drop my shoulders. "I can sleep on the floor, guys, it's fine."

"No. Hell no, I'm not letting you sleep on a dirty motel floor," Dean argues.

"Dean, I'll be fine," I say. "You guys can have your beds, I'm sleeping on the floor." I've always been stubborn. Although I guess it's more of putting others before myself than it is stubbornness.

"No you're not, get up." I guess Dean's stubborn too.

The boys stare at me down on the floor. I look back and forth between them for a moment. "Alright, then one of you is gonna have to suck it up and let me share with you," I say while I grab my pillow and stand up. They look at each other, then back at me. I put my hand on my hip and glare at them. "Come on, I've shared a bed with each of you before; don't act like this'll be a new experience."

"Wait what?" Dean says, looking from me to Sam, then back to me.

"Long story," Sam defends.

"No it's not," I say. "I had a nightmare. That's it." I'm sure one day I'll tell Dean about my dream, but that day is not today. I don't have the physical or emotional strength to talk about my mom right now. Sam gives me a knowing glance.

Dean relaxes a little. "Oh," he says. They're still looking at me and each other like idiots.

I groan. "Ok, look, I'm exhausted," I say. "How about I just go the hell to sleep and let you ladies battle it out amongst yourselves, because I could really care less who sleeps next to me."

I walk between the boys and toss my pillow back where it was on the bed. My feet drag as I follow the pillow and wriggle myself under the covers. It only takes me a few seconds to pass out. Like I said, I'm exhausted.

When I wake up the next morning, there's a weight across my stomach. I collect that I'm laying on my back, and I look down to inspect the pressure bearing down on me. To my surprise, I find a muscular forearm draped across my abdomen. I follow the arm with my eyes to see which brother it belongs to.

     On my right is a fast asleep Dean Winchester. I can't help but smile to myself. He's lying on his side, completely facing me. His short hair is going every which way. His black shirt clings to his chest, and I watch for a moment as it rises and falls.

     After staring at Dean for way too long, I touch his wrist to move his arm. As soon as my skin grazes his, he tenses a bit, and I hear a small groan escape his lips. I instinctively freeze in my tracks and look over at him. He blinks then sluggishly opens his eyes. Our eyes meet for a second, then he looks down to where his arm rests.

     "Oh," he says in a groggy voice. "Sorry." He pulls his arm out from under my hand.

     "It's fine," I mutter. I'm not sure if he even hears me, but I still say it.

     Dean sits up and stretches his arms over his head. Then he pushes the covers off of himself and crawls off the bed. The bathroom door clicks shut behind him.

     "Are you guys ever gonna make out, or...?" Sam's voice says to my left.

     The sound of his voice makes me flinch. I thought he was asleep. "What?" I ask. Did he just see all of that? I turn on my side so that I'm facing him.

     He's lying on his back with his head turned towards me. He must've been faking sleep. "Don't even try to tell me you haven't noticed the tension between you two," he says. I feel my face flush with red. "Why do you think I let him share the bed with you?"

     I slowly sit up and face him. "What?" I demand.

     "Oh come on, don't pretend like you weren't happy that you woke up next to him," he counters.

     My face flushes again. Sam and I just stare at each other for a moment. I feel like he can hear my thoughts clear as day. "Please don't tell him," I mumble.

     He half smiles. "I won't," he says. "You don't have to worry about him, but I won't say anything."

     I scrunch my eyebrows. Just as I open my mouth to ask him what he means, the bathroom door opens. I pretend to stretch to avoid suspicion from Dean. I have to do my best not to watch his every move. I never realized it before... How much I really do watch him.

     I mean, I know that I'm attracted to him. Who wouldn't be? But maybe there's more to it than that. It doesn't matter. Nothing will come of it. Dean doesn't like having me around. He said it himself: the sooner I can defend myself, the sooner I'll be out of his hair. He hates me. There's no way he would reciprocate any kind of feelings I have for him. He sees me as a little kid. A kid he's babysitting. Nothing more.

{[A/N: I got a little ooc on Sam's part, but oh well. It pertains to the story, so meh.]}