Written by: gooberlanes13

Edited by: KariGorsuch

With a heavy sigh, I peered through the darkness of the room to study the ceiling for the 48th time. Some soft breathing and slight movement from Bri's bed pulled my attention from the ceiling and I gazed over her slumbering figure. I watched her eyelids dance in the moonlight as her brows wrinkled.

I rose off the bed, silently sliding out of the sheets and slowly pulled the bedroom door shut, wincing as the soft click echoed down the hall. Keeping my steps light, I crept downstairs, coming to a stop just outside the office.

Sam and Dean were both out cold.

Sam was curled up on the couch, face buried so deep in the cushion it was a wonder he could breathe. Even asleep, his face was tense, brows pulled together like he was fighting something in his dreams. Every now and then, his fingers gripped the pillow a little tighter, pulling it closer, like he was trying to hold onto something—someone.

Seems like Bri and Sam aren't sleeping too well without each other.

My gaze shifted to Dean, stretched out on the cot across the room. Shirtless—not complaining—one arm was tucked behind his head, the other stretched across the empty side of the bed, fingers curled slightly like they were meant to be holding something—or someone—too. His breathing was slow, steady, but his eyelids twitched, eyes darting behind them. Dreaming.

I exhaled quietly and slipped through the office into the kitchen.

With a smirk, I grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, the cold condensation rolling over my fingertips as I pushed my way out onto the porch. I caught the door before it could slam and bounce off the doorway, avoiding waking everyone.

The early morning air was cool, thick with the scent of damp earth and motor oil. I dropped onto the front steps, stretching my legs out in front of me, adjusting to the due soaked step. My gaze drifted across the lineup of vehicles parked out front.

The Impala.
The Mustang.
The Charger.
Bobby's old F-350.

I frowned, my eyes lingering on the Charger before shifting back to the Mustang.

My fingers curled around the bottle, knuckles whitening as I let my head fall back, staring up at the deep purple sky, just on the edge of sunrise. My mind lingered on Bri upstairs, twitching, tossing and turning. With a heavy sigh, I leaned back on my elbows and took in the salvage yard. The noises from the surrounding wood taking over my senses for the moment as my mind reached back in time:

"Be back in a few hours, don't get smashed!" Bri called after me as I ducked out of the car. We shared some laughter as I held up my middle finger and waved her away as I pushed the passenger door shut.

I adjusted myself, pushing off my elbows and crossing my legs as the sky slowly shifted, deep purples giving way to streaks of dark pink and orange;

"Jesus Fuck!" I gasped, holding my hand up to block the rays as I heard the rumble and purr of that familiar Mustang feet from me. I followed the noise and ducked back into the passenger seat to see a flustered Bri, the best friend in question, in the driver's seat. "What happened to you?"

"Bitch..." she swooned as she shifted the vehicle, doing a double take into the rearview mirror before pulling out into traffic.

"...Bitch." I mocked, pulling my seatbelt on as she pulled to a stoplight. "What? I know the Grande is haunted, but it can't be that crazy...right?"

"No," Bri groaned, continuing to fan herself with her own hands. "It's who I met that was so crazy."

"You met someone too?" I almost squeaked and clapped my hands, but then realized how weird I would have looked, and cleared my throat and leaned back into the sports car seat. "I mean, you met someone too?"

With another adjustment of my shirt and the tip of the water bottle to my lips, another flash came across my mind:

I passed her the Mountain Dew she requested, while opening my Arizona and she opened a bag of the mixed candy I had grabbed and started opening the minis one by one and popping them into her mouth.

"Did he drool over the car?" Bri asked, mouth full of candy.

"Duh." I smirked, as we both froze at the sound of another engine roaring nearby, and as we both scanned our surroundings we both spotted what was disturbing the silence.

A black 1967 Chevrolet Impala.

We watched as it pulled into the gas station, although they didn't stop, they pulled right back out and took off down the road.

"That's a hot car." I muttered as Bri wasted no time, putting down her candy and drink. She ignited the Mustang and shifted the vehicle in gear and took off after them. "What the hell are you doing?"

"We're going to check out this Impala." she smiled brightly as we took off down the reflective road, chasing their tail lights.

I chuckled to myself, leaning back onto my arm as I took another sip from the water bottle. Everything that had happened—coming from the airport, picking up Bri, running into Dean and Sam—it had been one hell of an adventure. And, if nothing else, it had been eye-opening. Not just about the hunt, but about who Bri and I really were—vampire or not.

A small smile flashed across my lips, but it didn't last long as I bit my lower lip, crossing my thighs over each other as a final flashback came to mind;

The door barely clicked shut before I felt it—Dean pushing in after me, his presence overwhelming in the small bathroom. My pulse jumped, and I spun to glare at him.

"Dean, what the—"

"You said to prove it." His voice was low, rough, his eyes burning into mine. "So let me."

I tightened my grip on my clothes, feeling the steam of my own frustration rise. "Prove it by giving me some goddamn space."

He shook his head, stepping closer. "No. I'm done running, Eve."

My back hit the counter. "Who said I wanted you to stop?"

Dean's breath hitched, and for a second, I thought I had him. That he'd finally back off. But instead, he exhaled sharply through his nose, placing both hands on the counter beside me, caging me in.

"You can push me away all you want," he murmured, his voice softer now, but no less intense. "But we both know what this is."

My throat felt tight. "And what is this, Dean?"

He searched my face like he was trying to memorize it, his jaw clenching before he finally whispered, "Something I don't wanna lose."

I barely had time to react before Dean reached out, his fingers ghosting over my jawline with a gentleness that made my breath hitch. It was the softest touch, barely there, but it sent a tremor of heat through me, unraveling my defenses threat by threat.

His hand slipped to cup my cheek, his palm warm against my skin, rough from years of fighting battles neither of us ever asked for. My pulse raced in my ears as his thumb traced just below my cheekbone, his touch hesitant, almost reverent.

"Eve..." His voice was low, uncertain, like he was waiting for me to push him away.

But I didn't.

I should have. I should have shoved him back, told him this wasn't how we fixed things, that it was too late. But I didn't.

Because the second his lips brushed mine, every ounce of resistance I had, shattered.

Dean kissed me like he was afraid I'd disappear, like he needed to remind himself that I was still here, still breathing.

His lips were soft but demanding, pressing into mine with a desperation I felt mirrored in my own bones. My hands dropped the pile of clothes I had brought with me, letting them scatter to the floor as I reached for him without thinking. My fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt, clutching him like he was the only thing anchoring me to reality.

A low groan rumbled in his chest as his hands skimmed down my sides, strong and sure. In one swift motion, he grabbed my waist and lifted me, setting me onto the bathroom counter. The cool surface beneath me was a stark contrast to the heat radiating between us, but I barely noticed.

My legs instinctively parted, his body slotting between them as if he was made to fit between them. His touch burned through the thin fabric of my shirt, sending a shiver up my spine, and warmth tingling in my stomach as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against mine with a mix of urgency and something dangerously close to reverence.

Every brush of his lips against mine felt like it was unraveling something deep inside me- something I didn't know how to control. I felt his heartbeat pounding beneath my fingers as I slid my hands up to his neck, pulling him closer. The warmth of his body pressed against me, and it felt like we were sinking into each other, a collision of past regrets and unspoken desires.

His hands roamed over my skin, fingers tracing the curve of my waist and the line of my back. It was a tender touch, like he was trying to memorize every inch of me, trying to hold onto something before it slipped through his fingers.

I smiled faintly at the thought, but the moment was cut short when the kitchen door swung open and slammed shut behind someone. The sudden noise jolted me upright.

"Oh—uh, I'll just—" Sam started, hesitating at the threshold, but I waved a dismissive hand, already moving to go back inside.

I took a deep, calming breath, shaking off the heat from the memory before speaking.

"No." I muttered, forcing the word out as I stumbled to my feet and stepped past him, but before I could slip through the door, his hand caught my bicep.

I froze, my body stiffening as I shot him a glare. Without hesitation, I yanked my arm out of his grip and stood my ground. "What?"

"Bri—" he began, but I scoffed, rolling my eyes as I stalked toward the porch railing, putting some distance between us. I leaned against the wood, bracing myself, hoping he'd take the hint.

But of course, he didn't.

"Why do you keep doing that?" His voice was calmer now, but I could still hear the frustration simmering beneath it.

"What?" I asked, taking a sip of my water.

"Rolling your eyes. Being a total bitch—"

"You say that like it's a bad thing." I smirked, raising the bottle to my lips and taking the final swig before casually crushing it in my hand.

Sam let out a sharp exhale, shaking his head. "God, you really are perfect for Dean."

I shifted slightly, flattered momentarily, at his words but didn't respond. Instead, I tossed the crumpled bottle onto the porch railing, tapping my fingers against it.

Sam moved beside me, leaning on the railing and facing the yard. "Eve, can I just talk without you—"

"—interrupting?" I cut in, grinning when he shot me a look.

He sighed. "Yeah. That."

With a small chuckle, I turned, mirroring his posture as I rested my elbows on the railing. "Alright, Sam. Shoot."

He was quiet for a second before speaking, his voice lower now, more thoughtful.

"Bri... she's different - different from anyone I've ever met." He started rocking slightly against the railing, staring out at the yard. "I don't know what to do with her. She's—God, she's beautiful, strong, independent as hell..."

"Ain't that the truth," I muttered with a smirk, tracing the salvage yard's silhouettes as the sun finally started to illuminate them.

"I know I pushed her away in Tennessee... and it might not seem like the smartest move to you—or her—but I was just trying to protect her." Sam's voice wavered slightly, and I realized, as I shifted my eyes to him, that the hard glare I'd been giving him had softened, carried off by the morning breeze. "This hunting life... It's dangerous. Anything could happen at any time."

"Yeah. You don't have to tell me." I smirked, and to my surprise, Sam let out a small chuckle.

I cleared my throat and leaned my forearms on the railing, bringing myself to eye level with him. "She knows that too, Sam."

His brows pulled together. "Does she? Because she pushes like she doesn't—"

"She pushes because she cares." I cut in, locking eyes with him. "She cares about you, Sam. More than you'll ever understand."

Sam inhaled sharply, looking away as I turned, shifting my back against the railing now.

"Like I told you back there—whether we leave this life or not, we're still targets. Just like you and Dean."

He sighed, mirroring my stance as he processed my words with tense shoulders.

"We could try for a normal life," I admitted, shrugging as I stared down at the worn porch floorboards. "But between knowing what's out there, knowing who Bri is, knowing you and Dean—even Bobby—"

Sam huffed a quiet laugh at Bobby's mention.

"—we can't just walk away from this." I exhaled heavily, realizing I wasn't just speaking for Bri—I was speaking for myself, too. "No matter what happens, we're connected now. And you and Bri? You need to fix this."

"She won't talk to me." Sam frowned, nodding toward the kitchen door.

I nudged him lightly with my elbow, making him glance at me. "Give her time. She'll come to you."

His jaw tensed as he swallowed hard. "Will she?"

His voice was quiet now, almost unsure.

I didn't respond, the unknown was evident for the two of them.

A quiet beat passed between us before he finally spoke. "Did you really have to get so aggressive, though?"

I shifted with a small smile, chuckling softly before I responded. "I'm not gonna apologize for what I did, Sam... That's my sister."

"Dean and I already talked about that." Sam sighed, lowering his gaze. "I get it. I would've done the same for Dean. And he'd do the same for me."

With a small nod, I hissed through my teeth, "Thanks." before nudging him with my elbow. "I guess you're alright."

"You guess?" Sam chuckled, raising an eyebrow.

"Jury's still out." I smirked, then gestured toward the house. "Let's see how you fix this mess with Bri, and we'll go from there."

Sam exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, but I wasn't finished. I sighed, pushing myself off the railing to fully face him.

"But let me be crystal clear about one thing." My voice lowered, my eyes locking onto his. "If I ever have to choose between anyone and Bri... she wins. Every. Single. Time."

Sam's jaw tightened as my words settled between us.

"Every. Single. Time." I repeated, raising an eyebrow to drive the point home.

His gaze flickered past me, and I followed it—Dean stood just inside the kitchen, arms crossed, watching us while the coffee maker gurgled behind him.

I turned back to Sam, about to speak, but he beat me to it.

"Yeah, about that." He smirked, straightening up, his shoulders suddenly tense. He stepped closer, his expression serious now. "That is my only brother."

I let out a short laugh. "Oh, is this your big speech?"

But my grin faltered when I saw the intensity in his eyes.

"I know he doesn't always show it," Sam muttered, his gaze shifting past me toward Dean. "But seeing you like that in North Carolina... almost losing you..." He trailed off, but I caught what he wasn't saying.

I glanced back into the kitchen where Dean stood, pretending to be absorbed in his coffee.

Sam's voice dropped to a near whisper. "Just... don't hurt him."

I frowned to myself as Sam moved around me, opening the kitchen door. He hesitated before stepping aside, gesturing for me to go in first. I took the hint, sliding across the counter to land beside Dean.

I watched as he scooped coffee grounds into the filter, my gaze drifting down. The sweet grounded scent of the coffee beans sent a shiver down my spine.

"One day..." Dean hummed, catching my eye. "Another night of no sleep?"

"Between my head and Bri's nightmare? Nope." I shifted, leaning back against the counter. "You looked like you were sleeping pretty good, though."

Dean smirked, clicking on the coffee maker. "You saw me naked?" He feigned offense, pressing a hand to his chest.

I snorted, shaking my head. "Relax, Winchester."

Dean chuckled before nodding toward the kitchen door. "What was that about?"

I followed his gaze for a second before turning back to him. "Sam and Bri." I paused. "And you." Allowing my eyes to scan his figure.

"Me?" Dean pointed to himself, eyebrows raising as he turned to face me, crossing those annoyingly broad arms. "What about me?"

I waved my hand dismissively. "Something about me not hurting you or whatever."

Dean smirked, but there was something else in his eyes. Something heavier.

With a sigh, he took my wrists gently, leading me toward the back door.

"Speaking of that..."

My stomach twisted.

Dean pulled me outside, his grip firm but careful, before pausing on the porch. He exhaled, then placed both hands on my shoulders and gently nudged me down into one of Bobby's rocking chairs.

My brow furrowed. "Oh, come on..."

Dean took a step back, leaning against the railing, arms crossed.

I rocked back, folding my arms. "Here we go again."

His brow wrinkled. "What?"

I gestured loosely. "Go ahead."

Dean tilted his head. "Go ahead with what?"

"The speech." I sat up, planting my feet on the porch. "The one I've already heard. About how you don't know what to do with your feelings, how you 'chose me' but—oh, my favorite—when you go all radio silent instead."

Dean's lips twitched like he wanted to smirk but thought better of it.

"Like that." I shot to my feet. "You think you can keep pushing and pulling me like one of your girls? The ones you mess around with, then ditch when you're done? I thought we were past this, Dean."

Dean just blinked, his eyes slowly taking in my figure.

"...Say something!" I demanded, my voice sharp but faltering. I barely made eye contact, frustration bubbling over. "I'm so damn sick of being on this side of things."

Dean, slowly, pried himself off the railing with his cocky smirk and closed the gap between us, his hands cupping my face. Before I knew it, his lips were on mine, firm yet gentle, and my anger melted away in a heartbeat. I felt my body relax, the tension slipping away as he pulled back, forcing eye contact.

"Is it my turn, now?" Dean asked quietly, his gaze flicking between my eyes and lips. "I wasn't going to say any of that."

I let out a nervous chuckle, embarrassed by the sudden shift in the air between us.

"I wasn't about to compare you to the girls I've had in the past," Dean continued, letting go of my face and retreating to lean back against the railing. "I told you in Casper, Eve... you're different."

I shifted uncomfortably, caught under his steady gaze.

"I said you didn't know me, that you were assuming how I felt about you..."

My lips pressed into a thin line as I crossed my arms, my focus narrowing to his every word, studying him intently as he shifted his weight. Realizing how amazing he looked in the morning sun.

"In Cripple Creek, I pulled away, and I know it hurt you..." Dean's voice softened, his eyes clouded with regret. "I pulled away because you'd just been..." He trailed off, a thick tension settling between us. "What kind of man would I be to take advantage of you?"

I bit my lower lip, watching the small flicker of his eyes as I tried to process his words while pushing the violent night out of my head.

"Do you understand what I'm saying?" Dean asked, his eyebrows raised, and I gave a small nod. "When you told me that the one thing that calmed you down that night was one of our first conversations... that cut deep." He placed a hand over his chest. "Now, I find myself staring up at the stars more than I care to admit." He cleared his throat, and I felt my cheeks warm.

I quickly shifted my attention, trying to hide the blush creeping up my neck.

"When you chose yourself over me in that chamber..." Dean's voice hitched, and his eyes darkened. "When I woke up, and you were gone, you've got to know I tried to find you. But hell, I was seeing double."

I lowered myself back into the rocking chair, watching him carefully as he spoke, his voice trembling slightly.

"I now know you were the one who saved our asses down there." Dean's voice cracked a little. "When Bobby and Sam told me what happened, that you were turned... I lost my mind, Eve."

I narrowed my eyes, his admission hitting deeper than expected.

"Then to find out you and Bri were at the Roadhouse— the Roadhouse— Jesus Christ." Dean huffed, running both hands through his hair, shaking his head in disbelief. "I know when we first came across you and Bri, I said you two were at the wrong place at the wrong time, but I didn't mean it when I said it then, and I sure as hell don't mean it now."

His eyes locked onto mine, searching.

"I've had time to think - feel - and having you almost die in my arms..." Dean gestured, remembering that dark moment in North Carolina. "I can't take the thought of losing you. Not now, not then...not ever." He sighed heavily, reaching across the porch and tugging me to my feet and pulling me close. "I'm ready to try this."

I blinked, feeling the weight of his words settle on my chest. "Try what?"

He gestured between us with an uncertainty that made my stomach flip. "Us."

"Wait, what?" I gasped, my hand instinctively coming up to stop him, but he pressed on.

"I've never felt that way about anyone—other than Sammy—when you were dying in my arms." Dean's voice softened, eyes darting away from me briefly. "It took you almost dying for me to realize..." I watched his eyes hesitate for a moment, but shoot into mine, "...that I choose you... I will always choose you."

I felt the heat rush to my face, my heart thudding in my chest as Dean looped his fingers into my belt loops and tugged me closer so that I was pressing myself against him. Locking eyes with me again.

"That day we shared upstairs..." Dean began, nodding over my shoulder. A blush crept across both of our faces. "We didn't go all the way, but it was the best..." He hesitated, and I leaned in to finish his thought.

"...Oral."

"Oral," Dean smirked, a brief chuckle escaping him. "I don't want you to think I'm just in this for that," He gestured, tugging a little on my belt loops while keeping eye contact. "But... you're worth so much more than that."

"Am I?" I tilted my head, my nervous energy getting the better of me. My gaze dropped to study his button-down as I tried to gather my thoughts, my mind racing. "Dean, I want to believe you. I really do." I found myself almost pouting as I placed my palms on the railing on either side of Dean's hips, locking him in. "But you have to understand how you've—"

"I know." Dean interrupted gently, unhooking one of his hands and taking my chin to pull my eyes into his. "I know I don't deserve a chance. I know I don't deserve this conversation—but you have to know... this..." He sighed, dropping his grip on my chin, releasing my other belt loop and took both of my hands off the railings, "This is me trying."

I fought to swallow the lump in my throat, my heart pounding as his words settled deep inside me.

"You know, what I learned about you in North Carolina..." Dean trailed off, looking down as he searched for the right words, fidgeting with my fingers. "You gave up so much for your family, for your mom, your grandma, your grandpa... and you didn't ask for help. Not from anyone."

I nodded, the emotion overwhelming me. Threatening to close my throat.

"How do you do that without going cold?" Dean asked, his voice a little hoarse, his fingers intertwined with one of my hands while releasing the other so he could lean against the railing with better balance. "How do you keep going?"

"I - I didn't have a choice," I whispered, the words slipping out before I could stop them. "Mom needed me. Grandma needed me." I blinked back tears. "And I promised her..." My voice faltered, tears threatening to spill. "I promised Grandma I'd be there."

Dean's voice softened, completing my thought. "You promised her you'd always be there for your Mom."

I looked away from him, attempting to fight off the heaviness that threatened my eyes, but Dean gently cupped my chin, pulling my gaze back to his. "That takes strength... strength I've never seen before."

I bit my lip, fighting to keep my composure.

"I guess what I'm trying to say here," Dean sighed heavily, his thumb brushing over my cheekbones, wiping away the stray tears. "Is that I see you, Eve. I see your strength, your brains... and yeah, your boobs."

I couldn't help but chuckle through my tears, being caught off guard for a moment.

"I mean, remember when we first met? You thought I said nice boobs?" Dean grinned, and I felt a warm rush of affection. "Girls make me laugh, Eve...but not the way you do."

"What are you getting at, Dean?" I asked softly, sniffling, still wiping away the last of the tears.

Dean's eyes darkened, something raw and hungry flickering there. "I'd like a chance."

I blinked at his forwardness, unsure.

"A chance to prove to you that you're worth more than anything in this world. More than a Hunter's life, Eve. But that's all I've got." He shrugged slightly, as we both smiled.

"That's all I need." I smirked, feeling his hand release mine, allowing my palms to return to the railing as he took my waist and gave them a tight . "I just...you have to understand how hard it is for me to -"

"- believe me?" Dean shot me a half smirk, lowering his head. "I get it." He shifted a little, retracting his hand from my waist now, leaving me cold. "I would understand if you don't trust me enough to do this."

I pressed my lips into a thin line, thinking.

"Dean," I sighed heavily, leaning forward, catching his eye. "I trust you -"

"- even after everything?" Dean's eyes shot up into mine, almost desperate but more shocked at the fact that I would still hold that door open for him.

"Even after everything. I don't think I'm supposed to - but I do." I couldn't help but chuckle. "It's just we need to take it slow, we need to rebuild what's been broken" I paused, tilting my head a little in thought, "- broken a few times - but broken." I shrugged, earning a small smile.

"I think I can do that." He smirked, placing his hands back on my waist, pulling me in again and giving them another tight squeeze for reassurance. "If you'll be patient with me...?"

"Duh." I smirked, pulling my palms off the railings and sliding my fingers into his belt loops, tugging on them a little. "On a few conditions though -" Dean perked up, grinning down at our grip on each other. "- one; I name the conditions as we go."

I began counting on my hand. Catching the amused smirk from Dean as he subtly shook his head.

"Two; you fix shit with Bri. You two have been at it since day one...and if this is going to work..." I nodded. "...that has to at least be tolerable."

Dean shifted nervously, "She's so angry though..."

"...I mean...have you met us?" I smirked, as he leaned in with a smile and pressed his lips gently on my cheek.