Work Text:
It was mid-summer, and the muggy air clung to you like a second layer of skin, enveloping you in a hot, uncomfortable moisture.
You lied awake, looking out the window at the faint sunrise that was just beginning to swirl across the horizon.
It had been a quiet night; the only sound was that of the motel's ceiling fan oscillating in your ears.
But despite the silence, you had been restless once again.
You let out an exasperated sigh. How could you be of any use when you were this tired?
You couldn't sleep the way you used to, and you had gotten the feeling it was because of the gruesome things you and the boys had been subjected to recently.
Of course, you were hunters; you had been used to peering into the world of darkness that was hidden away from most.
But all of this apocalypse nonsense? It had been pushing you over the edge.
You couldn't even imagine the effect it must have had on Sam and Dean...especially Dean.
You knew Sam had problems, too. That much was evident.
But he was always much more open with himself than Dean was, and so much more secure.
There were nights you'd shared with Dean that were so intimate, it would be the highest form of betrayal to tell anybody about them.
Some of them ended with Dean crying on your shoulder, revealing the true vulnerability that he kept carefully concealed behind the many walls he'd built for himself.
However, you never minded, because there were many nights when Dean had done the same for you.
When it all became to much, he'd go running his fingers through your hair, pressing his soft lips against one of your tear-stained cheeks, whispering, "Little girl, as long as me and Sammy are here, you will be loved and you will be protected."
Your heart would swell when he said that to you. Love and protection were things you had never experienced before meeting him. But that was Dean; the great protector. The great lover, though he would never admit it. And though life had been hard on the road, fighting for a world you secretly weren't sure was worth saving, you had never been happier.
Suddenly you were taken from your reverie as Dean awoke with a start.
He sat up in his bed, tangled in the musty sheets, gasping for breath and no doubt drenched in cold sweat.
You waited patiently for him to compose himself.
"Dean?" you asked gently, voice hushed, "Are you okay?"
He ran a shaky hand through his hair.
"Yeah...I'm...I'm fine," he replied in a husky whisper, though you had heard the subtle tone in his voice that said he felt otherwise.
Slowly, you removed yourself from your sheets. The air was slightly cooler as it hit your bare legs.
Creeping over to Dean's bed, you lifted up the comforter and climbed in next to him, snuggling into his chest and intertwining your legs with his.
As your eyes met, you brushed your fingertips along the strong line of his jaw. "Are you having nightmares again?"
His eyes fluttered shut once more and he let out a deep sigh, offering only a single nod in response.
He pulled you even closer into his lean frame, and you could feel the tight muscles that were hidden beneath the flimsy fabric of his shirt.
Snaking your arms around his neck, you leaned in, pressing your forehead against his.
"Dean," you began as you brushed your lips against his, "I love you."
He buried his head within the crook of your neck, trailing his hands delicately up and down your curves.
You were overwhelmed with gratitude when you thought of how deeply he must trust you; how he chose you out of all of the people he could have chosen instead. But you knew that his trust was not misplaced.
And though it stung just a little that he would never directly say that he loved you too, you knew that he did. You could see it in his actions.
You hoped that, maybe one day, these encounters wouldn't have to be under cover of darkness.
Maybe one day he would be ready to be with you for all the world to see.
But for now, you were content with his big arms pressing your bodies together and the feeling of his warm breath fanning across your neck.