I Don't Bite [Dean Winchester x Reader] Book 2

Deja Vu

I tried to sleep the whole way to Florida. Unfortunately for me, and my heart palpitations, it was a long drive.

Sam had explained the case to me, but I don't think I heard a word he said. There were too many scents in the Impala, too many noises outside. It was so bright outside that day – was the sun always this blinding, or was it just tormenting me for kicks? A wave of relief crashed over me when the last rays of sun finally disappeared behind the never-ending forest.

I sat catatonic in the backseat of the Impala, shoved up against the door with my knees pulled to my chest, making myself as small as possible. My nails dug into my clothes, my skin, as I clung to myself. My heart pounded in my chest, a headache flaring every few moments to remind me that the hearts I consumed before leaving for the hunt were not enough.

The sounds of their voices sound watery as if my head had been plunged under cold water and no I was just listening to the echoes. I squeezed my eyes shut and curled my hands into fists, dragging the cloth of Dean's old jacket with it.

The sound of my name being spoken finally roused me from my stupor, and my eyes flitted to meet Dean's in the rearview mirror. His brows twisted in worry, green eyes tired and narrowed. He was concerned, but he knew better than to ask.

"What do you think?" he asked. The light from another passing car in the darkness briefly illuminated his face. My stomach whined. I curled into a tighter ball.

"Yeah, sure. Sounds fine," I stammered out and faced the window, eyes focused on the woods that I so desperately wanted to escape into. What had I just agreed to?

"Right," Dean's voice caught in his throat and he coughed awkwardly. "So up by seven, hit up a diner and start the case?" he clarified. I nodded my head as Sam voiced his agreement. "I'd say we're about ten minutes from the motel."

Ten minutes passed in tense silence.

I waited until Sam and Dean were halfway to the motel office before I slipped out of the backseat. I pulled myself to the edge first, allowing my feet to dangle. My head throbbed as I pulled myself slowly from the seat into a standing position. My knees wobbled and I propped one hand on the side of the car until the world stopped spinning.

I had both of my bags slung over my shoulder by the time the boys walked out. Dean tossed me my set of keys, no doubt the room next door to theirs. I reached for it and felt the metal brush my fingertips before clattering to the ground. I shook as I crouched to pick them up.

Dean extended a hand, offering to pull me up. I didn't even look at him as I stood on my own, albeit wobbly. He retracted his hand quickly and buried both in his pockets. "You alright?"

"Fine," I answered. "Just tired." I tried to take a step past him, but he held his arm up, blocking my way. It was a gentle barricade, one I could push past if I really wanted to. He would never force me.

"If something's wrong, you know you can talk to me, right? Whatever it is, we can figure it out together." I didn't look at him - couldn't look at him. I swallowed dryly, the sound of his heartbeat almost overpowering his words.

"I'll be fine after a good night's sleep," I said and side-stepped his arm, avoiding any contact. His arm dropped immediately to his side. I could feel his eyes boring into me as I trudged to the motel room door, only once stopping to spare a glance down at the numbered key in my hand.

My hands shook as I swiped the key card across the door lock, nearly dropping it once. I winced at the sound of the lock disengaging, the sound nearly piercing in my sensitive ears. The moment the door swung open under the weight of my palm, I dropped my bags from my shoulder haphazardly onto the floor. I didn't bother turning the light on, opting to find the bed by feel. The moment my toe caught to the edge I fell face-first onto the hard mattress.