Regrets and Memories.

Chapter Three

The next day you found the strength to focus and get some real studying done. Demonic Omens, mysterious deaths, random house fires, the usual. On your walk back home, you had the suspicion that someone was following you. You quickly looked over your shoulder and saw nothing more than shadows. You ignored it and kept walking but you just couldn't shake off that feeling. You turn around this time to see a large figure standing inches behind you. In self defense, you kick them in the gut with your steel-toe boots. You hear a familiar voice as they clutch their stomach and drop something.

"You've... You've got a strong kick... for a girl your size." The figure soon became a face as they stepped out of the shadows. Dean. He laughed and bent over to pick up what he dropped. "Aw, the flowers are all dirty." He tried to dust them off carefully before handing them to you. You smiled and took the flowers, inhaling their sweet smell quickly before hugging him.

"I'm sorry! My reflexes kicked in before my better judgement." You look up at him, looking for any grimaces or sign of pain. With your free hand, you grabbed his hand and started walking towards your house again. You insisted that he stayed the night, considering that you just kicked him in the stomach while he was about to give you flowers. You hung up his jacket in the closet, positioning so it hid the angel banishing sigil that you painted on the back wall, and put the flowers in a vase in your bedroom. After both of you were obviously tired, you showed him to the guest bedroom, and made sure he was all settled. No matter how hard you tried to sleep, you weren't successful. You kept thinking about what would happen if you had a relationship with this guy. What it would be like, how it would feel, how he would treat you, how he would surprise you with gifts and flowers, and possibly even propose. But who were you kidding? You were a hunter. If he knew what you did for a living, what you hunted, he would laugh at you or run away. And if he didnt't leave, by some miracle, he would get killed. Everyone else did. How would this be any different? You finally fell asleep after drowning yourself in these thoughts and questions.

When you woke up, you found Dean sitting in the living room and reading the newspaper wtih his feet on the coffee table. He folded the paper and laid it down on his lap as he looked up at you with an expression you hadn't recieved from him before. He stared at you, almost disapprovingly, long and hard without saying a word.

"Is... is something wrong?" You ask carefully as you stand next to the couch that sat across from him. You wring your hands nervously in your lap and watch him for some sort of sign. He removes his feet from the coffee table and squats down, pulling back the corner of the rug and revealing a Devil's Trap. He doesn't say a word as he stands up and walks over to the closet, where he reveals the Angel Banishing Sigil. As if he felt the need to prove his point one last time, he walks over to you, slides your sleeve all the way up your arm, to reveal your Anti-Possession tattoo. You felt your cheeks get hot as you looked up at him and back down at your arm as you pull the sleeve back down. He didn't say anything, he just looked at you quizzically as if he was trying to figure out what this all meant.

"I don't know what to say. I'm sor-"

He furrowed his brow and turned back to face the rug.

"Devil's Trap, huh?" He said as he kneels down and touches it, then brushing his hands off on his pants.

"I'm not a satanist, I swear!" You say defensively as you sit down and put your head in your hands. You silently scolded yourself for being so careless. Love isn't a part of the job. Why did you have to keep lying to yourself and thinking it could happen?

"You're a hunter." He sits next to you on the couch and pulls off his t-shirt to show off his own Anti-Possession Tattoo. "And so am I." You quickly accept it and move on. You were freaking out and asking a million questions in your head, but you couldn't let your guard down. That was all you were ever taught. Let your guard down and you're done for. You couldn't let any sexual tension break you. Just because you loved- no- liked him, didn't mean you could let your guard down. It has always ended badly when you let your guard down, that's how you lost your family.

You give in this one time and hug him, feeling his warm chest through your thin Nirvana tank. "That's good to hear. I don't have to hide anything from you, anymore." He laughs and nuzzles his head between your neck and your shoulder and puts his hands on your lower back, pulling you closer.

"Yeah... Yeah it's real good." He agrees quietly as he takes in your scent and pulls back from the hug. "I'm glad I don't have to hide anything from you. I really like you." He smiles down at you as he sweeps a stray hair out of your face. You can feel your cheeks turn red as you smile and look away. You hesitate at first but then decide that it doesn't hurt to be soft every now and then.

"...I like you too Dean." You start to wring your hands again and try to avoid the awkward silence. "Let's go have breakfast." He picks up his shirt, and puts it over his shoulder like he's showing off that he is shirtless.

"Sounds good to me." He says, smiling and following after you like a proud puppy. Maybe this was going to work out after all.