Written by: gooberlanes13

Edited by: KariGorsuch

"That went well..." Dean scoffed, stepping into the office with a wince as he rolled his shoulder.

I raised an eyebrow, barely catching his words through my headphones. I was deep into research on time travel and the specifics of the cure before he walked in. Pulling the headphones out, I tilted my head at his bruised frame.

"...You already spoke to Bri?" I asked, glancing at him as he made his way to the empty armchair. "I didn't mean right now."

Dean winced again as he rolled his shoulder, then shot me a weak but genuine smile. I stood and walked over, slinging my arm around his back to give him a reassuring squeeze on his shoulder.

"You good?" I chuckled, brushing some dirt off his back.

"Eh, I'll survive." Dean waved me off with a grimace, but when I went to pull my hand away, he caught it. "What's so important that you're buried in research?" He raised an eyebrow, trying to make light of the situation, though there was a touch of concern beneath his usual bravado.

"Research." I sighed, pulling the other headphone out of my ear and glaring at the laptop screen. "Time travel and ritualistic medicines."

"Ritualistics -?" Dean started, leaning forward, his eyes narrowing as he studied my face.

"- Just making sure we have what we need for the cure." I sighed heavily, saving my work and minimizing the windows. "Looks like you two had a good talk..."

"Talk?" Dean scoffed, leaning back into his seat and running a hand through his hair. "Yeah, that went real well."

"Talk... fight... what's the difference with Bri?" I chuckled, leaning back in my chair with a grin. "Thanks for that."

"Yeah, well—" Dean paused for a moment, his gaze flicking over me with that familiar smirk. "—come on!"

"Wh—what?" I gasped, hesitant as I stood to follow him. "What are we—where are we going?"

"Come on!" He grinned, grabbing both of our jackets before seamlessly sliding his fingers through mine and tugging me toward the door. "We're going for a drive."

"...To do what?" I pushed, following him to the door. "Without Bri or Sam?"

"We won't need them where we're going." Dean winked as he opened the Impala's door and revved the engine, pulling out of the driveway smoothly. "They probably wouldn't wanna be involved anyway." He chuckled, a mischievous glint in his eyes as his hand briefly slid up my inner thigh.

The heat that rose through my cheeks wasn't new by now, but the squeeze from his grip shot a wave of heat through me that was all too familiar. I shifted slightly in my seat, unbuckling the seatbelt, and slid across the cushion to sit next to him.

He moved his hand off my thigh, casually draping his arm across the top of the seat behind my neck. He bent his elbow just enough that his hand brushed against my shoulder, a familiar, comforting touch.

I couldn't help but blush, my gaze locked on the windshield, taking in the smooth rumble of the Impala's engine and the quiet intimacy that settled between us. The world outside seemed so distant, and for once, it felt like just the two of us in our own little bubble.

My eyes traced the clear blue sky, the warm sun, and the bare trees lining the road as the miles slipped by. Before long, we pulled up to an old diner in the middle of nowhere—an Airstream set up like a retro gem. The parking lot was almost empty, only a couple of cars, and Dean slid the Impala into an empty spot, turning the engine off with a satisfying purr.

"Hungry?" Dean asked, pulling the keys out of the ignition and studying me with that familiar glint in his eyes.

"I could eat." I smirked as we both slid out of the front seat and stepped inside the diner. "Are we eating here or...?"

"Oh, hell no." Dean chuckled, giving me a playful nudge with his hand on the small of my back as we approached the bar. His gaze flicked over the menu above the stove. "This place has charm, but not the kind I'm looking for right now."

I took in the diner around us. It was old, a little run down, but there was something undeniably charming about it. My eyes wandered to the line of music players—an old record player, a jukebox, and even a modern-day Bluetooth jukebox—all standing like they were ready to start a show at any moment. The truckers at the far end of the bar stopped talking when they noticed us, their eyes lingering a little too long. I gave a respectful nod in their direction before stepping closer to Dean, slipping my arm around his elbow and placing my palm against his. I fought a smirk as his fingers instantly tangled with mine.

"Thanks!" Dean beamed, taking the paper bag from the counter. He tugged me along as we headed for the door. "Got us a family meal. Should be plenty to get us out of here fast."

"Whatever gets us out of here." I shrugged, taking the bag from him as I climbed into the passenger seat of the Impala. Dean slid into the driver's seat and fired up the engine. "So, what's all this about, anyway?"

"You'll see." Dean grinned, the kind of smile that made me think he was about to do something a little reckless. He pulled out of the lot and onto the road with a smooth, easy motion.

"I'm not going to get a straight answer out of you, am I?" I asked, glancing at him, studying the relaxed confidence in his posture.

"Not until we get there." He shrugged casually, shooting me a quick, sharp look. I caught the intensity in his eyes—the same hunger I saw earlier in the bathroom—and felt the shift in the air between us. My nerves prickled at the attention he was giving me, and I couldn't help but wonder what was coming next.

We drove for a while before pulling onto a dirt road that cut across a vast, open field. Dean parked the Impala perpendicular to the road and shut off the engine. I realized where we were, and why.

In front of us, the horizon stretched endlessly, the vast emptiness giving the world a peaceful but eerie quiet. The only sound was the occasional car passing in the distance. As I stepped out of the passenger seat and followed Dean, I took in the scene, breathing in the open air.

Dean grabbed the bag from my hand and placed it on the roof of the Impala. He glanced at me, his eyes giving away that the calm, tranquil setting was only part of what he had planned for the evening.

"Hurry up, or we'll miss it." Dean smirked, gesturing to the hood of the Impala. When I hesitated, he gently nudged the small of my back, guiding me up onto the car. I leaned back against the windshield, and Dean mirrored me, but not before laying out the food. "Bon appétit."

"Jesus," I smirked, gazing down at the basket of fries, chicken tenders, two burgers, and four beer bottles he'd arranged on the windshield. I pried myself off the windshield and shifted to sit cross-legged, facing the food fully as Dean cleared his throat.

"- He had nothing to do with this." Dean smiled, cracking open a beer with his keys before handing it to me. "It hit me earlier that I never really took you on a proper date."

"It hit you?" I echoed, tipping the chilled beer to my lips and raising an eyebrow at his pun. "Was that hit possibly my best friend's fist?"

"Irrelevant," Dean shrugged, ignoring my giggle. "Point is, you deserve stuff like this from time to time. I wanted to show you this place."

"What is this place, anyway?" I asked, shifting again to grab one of the burgers.

"I don't know who owns it, but I come out here to clear my head after complicated hunts." Dean explained, pulling his burger closer. "It's beautiful now, but you should see it after sunset. Looks like the whole world is on fire."

As I swallowed my first few bites, I glanced down at his watch, nodding slowly. Silence settled over us for a moment as we ate, but then a sudden thought made me frown.

"Won't sitting up here ruin the hood?" I asked, looking over at him. His eyes were already on me, studying my expression.

"Nothing I can't fix." Dean shrugged, finishing half of his burger with a confident grin. "I'm not worried about it."

I nodded as another beat of silence passed between us.

"Dean," I shifted, finishing the last few bites of my burger. "Thanks for ordering this raw... it's a great middleman for what I can and can't eat."

"Well, yeah." Dean shrugged, but this time his eyes lingered on mine with a new intensity. "Eve, can I ask you something?"

"- Dates are for getting to know each other, so yes." I smiled, dabbing the grease off my lips and grabbing a handful of fries.

"You don't talk about your brother much... why is that?" Dean asked, taking a bite of his burger, then collecting the wrappers and tossing them in the bag. He grabbed a couple of fries, waiting for my answer.

"My brother?" I echoed, taking a swig of beer and glancing out at the horizon. "What made you ask that?"

"Your mom mentioned him after your grandparents came up, and it's something I've noticed." Dean shrugged, tipping his beer back. "I just... can't imagine not being on good terms with my brother."

"You don't have my brother." I smirked, finishing my beer before Dean took it from me and added it to the bag.

"What's his name?" Dean asked, shifting in place as I grabbed a chicken tender.

"Ryan." I sighed heavily, staring at the basket of chicken tenders. "We're not close in age."

"How many years?"

"Seven. I'm younger." I gestured vaguely, sniffing the chicken tender, but feeling my stomach twist. I set it back down. With a knowing look, Dean packed up the tenders, offering me more fries. When I shook my head, he packed those up too.

"We've never been close," I added quietly, the weight of the words sinking in.

"What about your dad?" Dean asked, adjusting to lay against the windshield, passing me another beer as he finished off his first.

"What about yours?" I shot back, earning a small glare before he leaned back and waited for me to answer.

"I haven't spoken to him in almost six years," I finally said, the words coming out heavier than I expected.

"Uhm..." Dean shook his head slightly as I adjusted myself to mirror his position, lying back against the windshield. "I've lost track of how long it's been for me... but I couldn't imagine cutting ties with the old man."

"I can." I smirked, the words flat, and I could feel his eyes on me out of my peripherals. I kept my gaze on the pink and orange sunset sky, my voice quieter as I continued. "I couldn't take it anymore."

"What was so bad that you couldn't...?" Dean trailed off, voice tinged with curiosity.

"Neglect, abandonment, and treating me like some trophy he wore when it suited him." The words were sharper than I meant them to be, but as I turned to look at him, there was a quiet understanding in his gaze that made me feel a little less alone in that moment. "Seriously, though, what about your dad?"

"John." Dean sighed, adjusting his position as he slid across the hood to get closer to me. "Our mom died when we were young..."

I frowned, pulling my eyes from the sunset to study him. His gaze had shifted, distant, and I could feel the weight of the words as they hung between us.

"Mary," he continued, eyes focused on the sky now. "That was her name. John got into hunting because of her. She was the hunter first..." His voice trailed off, and I could feel the sadness seeping into the air around us.

"Hey," I whispered, propping myself on my elbow to meet his gaze. He immediately pulled away from the sky, locking his eyes with mine. "We don't have to talk about this."

His eyes glistened, searching mine for a moment before he moved closer, propping himself on his elbows too. The small shift brought him just a bit closer, a heat building between us, making me hyper-aware of how I looked in the moment.

"What about your stepdad?" Dean asked, shifting the topic, sliding his arm under my waist and tugging me closer, knocking me off my elbow and pulling me into him.

"He's..." I paused, searching for the right words. "...He makes Mom a version of happy." I shrugged, looking down at our boots as they stood at the edge of the hood. "That's about all I can say about that one."

"He doesn't seem to think you can think for yourself." Dean's voice broke the silence, pulling my gaze to him. "You grew up with that?"

"Like I had a choice." I shrugged again, taking another sip of my beer. "I made it out, though. I'm better for it."

"You're the best." Dean muttered, his voice low, and I felt my chest tighten.

I propped myself back up, blinking at him. His words hung in the air for a moment, and I felt a blush rise across my cheeks. Thankfully, the twilight of the day shielded me from his full view, but I could still feel his gaze on me.

The evening passed quietly, the stars starting to take their place in the sky as night fell.

"This." Dean suddenly broke the silence, shifting higher on the windshield and tugging me with him. "Check this out."

I shifted next to him, shaking my head at his excitement. But as I followed his gaze, I couldn't help but be swept away.

"Dean..." I gasped, my eyes wide as I took in the galaxy-like blanket above us. The stars twinkled, the black void between them making the light of the stars seem even more vivid. "...holy shit."

"Yeah." Dean nodded, and we sat there in silence for a long five minutes, just staring at the sky. "It's strange how we mimic the stars, but everyone's so caught up in their lives, they never look up."

I felt something shift in me as I dropped my gaze from the sky to meet his sparkling eyes. He was still focused on the stars, his gaze deep, but after a moment, he realized I wasn't looking up anymore.

"What?" Dean blinked, his face softening as he cupped my chin.

"I always thought about that... why we never look up." I started, not glancing at the stars again. "I never understood the why — or a why — until I met you."

Dean's eyes flickered from the sky to mine, and his expression softened. I could see him trying to process my words, and for a moment, everything seemed to still.

"I can be slick too." I smirked, breaking the tension. I could feel the nervous flutter in my chest, and his chuckle was like a wave breaking the silence.

"You do that so much." Dean's voice softened as he turned onto his side to face me. "You say something funny to break the seriousness... or the emotion."

"Says the guy who'd rather fight vampires than talk to me." I shot back, earning a small glare from him. "What really made you do this, Dean?"

His eyes locked onto mine again, but this time, it was different. His expression changed, softening, as he propped himself up on his elbow. He brushed a lock of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. The simple gesture sent a jolt through me before he cupped my chin and pulled me closer, his lips brushing against mine.

It was so gentle...so hot....

Dean's lips moved against mine with a slow, deliberate hunger, teasing, tasting, making me crave more. His hand on my chin slid down, fingers trailing lightly over my throat, leaving a shiver in their wake.

I barely noticed when he shifted, sliding me down until I was lying back against the Impala's hood. The cool metal beneath me was a sharp contrast to the heat radiating off his body as he settled between my legs, pressing closer.

"Eve..." he murmured against my lips, his breath warm, rough with restraint. His hands skimmed down my sides, slipping beneath my shirt, calloused fingers grazing over my skin.

My hips arched instinctively as he rocked against me, a deep groan vibrating in his chest. His mouth left mine, trailing down my jaw, tongue flicking over the sensitive spot just below my ear, sending a sharp jolt through me before moving lower.

"I do what I want to do, Eve..." he rasped, voice thick with something darker, teasing.

I let out a breathy laugh, but it broke into a gasp as he nipped my collarbone. "Shut up and do something then, Winchester."

His low chuckle was the only warning before he moved lower, hands pushing my shirt up, lips dragging over my stomach. The cool night air kissed my skin, but his mouth was hotter- possessive, worshipping, as he settled between my thighs.

His fingers curled around the hem of my jeans, undoing the button with ease, but he didn't rush. No, he took his time, watching my face, reading my reactions like a damn road map.

I shivered as the cool air brushed across my legs, but Dean's hands were there, warm and steady, sliding up my thighs, spreading them just enough. His breath was hot against me, teasing, until I let out a soft whimper, silently begging.

That was all it took.

His mouth met me with a slow, deliberate stroke of his tongue, sending a shockwave through my entire body. I arched against the Impala's hood, my fingers tangling in his hair as he held me down with those strong hands, like he needed to keep me steady while he unraveled me.

Dean groaned against me, the vibration making my stomach tighten. "You taste so damn good," he murmured, voice thick with hunger before he dove back in, this time with more purpose, more intensity.

The world faded, the only thing that mattered was his mouth, his hands, the way he knew exactly how to drive me to the edge and keep me there, torturing me with slow, deep strokes, teasing flicks, and the occasional scrape of his teeth that made me gasp.

"Dean," I moaned, barely able to breathe.

He looked up at me, lips glistening, eyes burning. "I got you, sweetheart."

And then, he buried himself between my thighs again, sending me tumbling over the edge with a cry, my body arching, trembling as he held me through it, whispering my name like it was the only thing in the world that mattered.

My body was still trembling, the aftermath of his touch leaving me breathless against the cool metal of the Impala's hood. Dean slowly pulled himself up, his lips trailing soft, lingering kisses along the inside of my thigh, across my stomach, before finally capturing my mouth again.

The kiss was slow, deep, his tongue sliding against mine with lazy, deliberate strokes, letting me taste myself on his lips. There was something intimate about it, something that sent a new shiver down my spine.

His hands roamed my body, never rushing, tracing over my curves, committing every inch to memory. I could feel the hard press of him against me, a reminder of just how much he wanted this—wanted me—but he wasn't pushing, wasn't demanding.

"Dean..." I murmured against his lips, my fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt, tugging him closer.

He chuckled softly, his forehead pressing against mine. "Yeah, sweetheart?"

I tilted my hips, pressing into him, my body already burning for more. His breath hitched, his hands tightening on my waist as he cursed under his breath.

"Tell me what you want," he said, his voice husky, rough with restraint.

"You," I breathed. "All of you."

Something flickered in his eyes—hunger, devotion, something deeper than just lust. He kissed me again, slower this time, almost reverent, like he was savoring every second.

"Not today," he murmured, pressing another kiss to my lips. "Tonight was about you."

Dean rested his forehead against mine, his breath warm and steady, grounding me in the quiet aftermath of what we'd just shared. His hands, strong and steady, traced slow, soothing circles on my bare thighs, his touch worshipful, like he wasn't ready to let go just yet.

I exhaled, my fingers threading into his hair, tugging him down for another kiss—this one softer, slower, a silent way of saying thank you. He sighed against my lips, his body still pressed against mine, radiating heat.

"You always gotta be the gentleman, huh?" I teased, running my fingers over the scruff along his jaw.

Dean smirked, but there was something softer in his eyes, something almost vulnerable. "With you? Yeah," he admitted, his voice low, rough. "You deserve that."

His words sent a different kind of warmth through me, something deeper than desire. I cupped his face, brushing my thumb over his cheek, wanting to tell him everything I felt in that moment—but the words got stuck somewhere between my heart and my throat.

Dean knelt in front of me, his fingers careful as he tugged my jeans back up, his touch lingering longer than necessary, like he wasn't quite ready to let go. He buttoned them for me, his knuckles brushing against my stomach, sending a shiver through me that had nothing to do with the cool night air.

When he looked up, his green eyes were softer than I'd ever seen them, filled with something unspoken. He ran his hands up my thighs one last time before standing, towering over me again.

His fingers found my chin, tilting my face up so he could press another kiss to my lips—slow, deep, making sure I knew just how much he'd meant every touch, every lingering moment between us.

"You good?" he murmured against my lips, his voice husky, low.

I nodded, a lazy smile tugging at my lips. "More than good."

Dean smirked, brushing his knuckles along my jaw before wrapping an arm around my waist, pulling me flush against him. "Yeah, you are," he muttered, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

For a while, we just stood there, wrapped up in the quiet night, the Impala still warm beneath us, the engine ticking softly. There was something sacred about the moment, something I didn't want to break.

There was a moment standing there where I felt his entire figure relax and I could feel his breathing slow down. It was as if he knew he could fully let go in my presence, and if it was at all possible that made me fall more into this haven he had created between us.

Dean must've felt the shift too because he exhaled, resting his chin on the top of my head, his grip tightening around me.

Safe.

"C'mon," he finally said, his voice a little rougher now, like he was shaking himself out of whatever spell we'd fallen under. "Let's get back before they send out a search party."

The Impala's headlights cut through the night, illuminating the salvage yard as we pulled into its parking spot. I barely noticed we'd parked, too focused on fidgeting with Dean's jacket, teasingly lowering my hand toward his jean line.

"Eve," Dean chuckled, pulling the keys from the ignition, his smile warm as he glanced down at me. "We're back..."

"...boo!" I frowned, both of us casting a blank stare at the house. Without another word, and with hesitation hanging in the air, we slid out of the Impala and made our way up the steps to the front door. "How does this work if we both live here?"

Dean shrugged slightly, his grip tightening on my hand as he opened the door. He tugged me along behind him, leading us through the entrance and into the office, where Bri, Sam, and Bobby were deep in conversation, books sprawled out across Bobby's desk.

"Where have you two been?" Bobby's voice cut through the tension as he raised an eyebrow at us, the heavy blush already staining both our faces.

"Bobby—" Bri smirked, interrupting with a wave of her hand. "That's irrelevant." She shot Dean a nod, then winked at me. "What I was saying is, this has to be where she's gathering the others..."

"What?" I chimed in, walking up to the desk, not letting go of Dean's hand as I hovered over Bri's shoulder. She picked up one of the books, holding it out for me to see.

"We're trying to figure out how and where not Eve is gathering the other 'children.'" Bri smirked as she said it, using air quotes with a grin. "And if we can stop the gathering altogether..."

"...How do we know when it'll be?" Dean added, leaning in next to me to study the map too.

"That's where Sam comes in," Bobby interjected, his gaze shifting to Sam's uncomfortable figure. Everyone paused for a beat, eyes narrowing in concern.

"He had a... well..." Bobby trailed off, his voice tense, glancing at Sam before shifting his gaze back to the group.

"...episode." Bri sighed, the disappointment clear in her tone. She glanced at Dean, who immediately let go of my hand and moved to Sam's side, studying his brother with a frown.

"What happened?" Dean's voice was low, flat, with a note of concern that only deepened as he noticed the cuts on Sam's arms.

"I—I don't know..." Sam stammered, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. "I—" He hesitated, trying to gather his thoughts, but his eyes flickered uneasily between his family. "I just... I don't remember what triggered it. I was fine one second, and then..."

"...we found him trying to get through that thick briar patch just outside the property," Bri gestured toward the front door, her expression serious. I frowned at the implication. "He was whispering something about Cold Oak?"

"Cold Oak?" I echoed, pulling the attention away from Sam. "That's only a few hours from here."

"Yeah, that's not good." Bobby interrupted, his frown deepening as he glanced around at us. "We're gonna have to go there and figure out what's going on. Sam, you're gonna want to sit this one out—"

"—No." Sam's response was immediate, cutting him off, earning a concerned frown from Bri. "I'm not doing that. I'm not letting you guys go and fight my battles for me."

"Wrong again, Winchester." I smirked, leaning on the desk and shooting a pointed glare at Sam from across the lamp-lit space.

"About what this time?" Sam growled, his posture stiffening as Dean laid a calming hand on his chest.

"We're in this shit together," I said, my voice firm as I tilted my head slightly, eyes locking onto Dean's once more. The familiar heat between us was still there. "No matter what, we'll figure this out together. That means not leaving you behind, either."

Bobby opened his mouth to argue, but Bri cut him off.

"She's right. If we leave him behind and we all go, who knows what might happen?" Bri gestured between Sam and me. "So, you're probably safest with us."

"Fine, make a plan like I'm not here." Bobby grumbled, causing the rest of us to smirk. "It's like you all know what you're doing or something..." He shot us a look before standing and leaving the office, the tension breaking with a light, quiet laugh between us.

"Let's load up then!" Sam spoke, taking a step toward the exit, only for Dean to shake his head and gently stop him.

"Before we do anything else..." Dean shifted his gaze from Sam to Bri and me, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "...we need to build a Hunter's Kit for Beauty."

Bri's eyes lit up as she tilted her head in my direction. "Whatever you did," Bri whispered, a grin creeping onto her face as she gestured between me and Dean. "Thank you."

I rolled my eyes, playfully slapping her arm. She shot a thumbs up at Dean before tugging me along with her toward the exit.

I let my eyes lock with Dean's one last time, watching him disappear around the corner as Bri shoved open the front door.