Chapter Text
You woke up suddenly with a start, your chest rising and falling heavily with your rapid breathing, sweat covering your body and causing your (h/l, h/c) to stick to your clammy forehead. You sat up in an instant, quickly whipping your head side to side in desperate search of anything that would help disclose where you were, but you could see nothing in the pitch black room.
The sound of a groan coming from beside you caused you to jump and quickly shuffle away from where the noise had come from, sensing movement after from the opposite side of the bed to where you’d apparently woken from. Your hand fumbled beneath your pillow, knowing that if this was your bed you’d of no doubt hidden a gun beneath it, but you felt nothing but sheets and pillows.
There was a small clicking sound followed by light filling the room, and you quickly turned to see a male figure leaning out of his side of the bed where he’d just turned on a small bedside lamp. You were about to jump out of the sheets and make a dash for the door, as the room and everything in it seemed completely unfamiliar to you, but you froze the second the man next to you rolled over and revealed his identity.
“What’s up, (y/n)? It’s like 4.30 in the morning.” Dean’s deep and groggy voice sounded as he rubbed his eyes tiredly, squinting a little against the recently introduced light before looking up at you.
“D-Dean?!” you stuttered in shock and surprise, your mouth agape and completely dumbfounded.
He groaned as he sat up properly, rubbing his eyes once more exhaustedly. “Who were you expecting? The Staypuft Marshmallow Man?” he quipped before yawning and scratching his bare chest absently, looking to you for a reply.
“D-Dean…” you started a little awkwardly, trying to steady your still racing heart, “why are we… in bed together?”
You felt like in was a stupid question, and even more so with the baffled look Dean gave you, but you two had never shared a bed before in your lives. Heck, you weren’t even in a relationship. You may have known each other longer than either of you could remember, but you’d never been any closer than the best of friends. Considering your line of work, the possibility of a relationship had never even cropped up in conversation, as more often than not you were too busy working, researching or generally hunting to have even considered it. But then again, there was no lying to yourself about the fact that you’d always had a very strong soft spot for Dean, deep down.
Once the man in question had finished staring at you in confusion, he eventually began to answer you slowly, as if unsure whether or not you were being serious or it was some kind of joke. “Uh… why don’t you check your left hand, Sherlock? Might answer your question.”
You couldn’t help rolling your eyes. At least Dean’s sarcasm and humour were still present, even if nothing else at all in the room looked familiar to you. However, the vague answer admittedly left you feeling unsure on what checking your hand would help to clarify, even as you reluctantly pulled your gaze from Dean to check your hand nonetheless.
You gasped and almost shrieked the second you looked, your other hand lifting to cover your mouth in absolute shock and partial awe at what you witnessed upon your finger. The sight alone was enough to leave you speechless and considerably more confused that this whole situation had already made you.
But out of all the things you ever could have expected to see, a glistening silver engagement ring was definitely not one of them.