Venom

025

Dean had started sleeping on the couch again.
They barely spoke. Most of the time they ignored each other. If they happened to be in the same room for more than ten seconds, they simply didn't acknowledge the other's presence.
This was how they spent the days that passed by, until Saturday arrived.

The sun had set hours ago, January was on its way to finally end, welcoming February and its warmer days. Helen still had one week before Derek would demand Dean's signature and corpse.
Isaac had to die tonight, so that she could flee. Once Derek found out about her alliance with Dean he wouldn't stop until she was a reeking pile of bloody meat he could feed his dogs.

Helen had debated wearing pants just for Dean's sake, giving him the unspoken knowledge that Isaac wouldn't be able to slip a hand in private places. Then again, this had to look realistic. She had to look interested. So she put on a matching set in pink velvet. The skirt lifted up to her thighs every time she walked, and the top barely contained her boobs.
She'd made sure to cover the healing letters on her body. When Dean noticed it, he didn't say anything, but she saw the distaste in his face.

Dean, oh Dean. Tonight he'd give her a ride. He was in his sweatpants and a hoodie. He hadn't worn a suit in days, working from home. She really had broken him.

She got out of the bathroom. "I'm ready," she informed him.
He didn't say anything. He simply got up and walked out with her.
They didn't speak. Not in the elevator, not in the car.

When they had to stop at red lights, he turned the volume of the music up. Apparently, he liked this group - Chase Atlantic, was it? - a lot, since almost every song that came on was theirs. However, at some point, I Wanna Be Yours by the Arctic Monkeys started playing. Helen had never seen someone skip a song as quickly as Dean did.

She decided not to listen to the words of most Chase Atlantic's songs, because the idea of getting absolutely railed the way they discribed it... oh, man.

They were listening to OHMAMI when they stopped.
"...
Then she bent it for me sideways, yeah
I might have to fuck her on the-"
The car turned off.
"We're here," Dean said, not even glancing at her.

Helen nodded and took off the seat belt. "You remember the plan?" she asked, making sure. And needing him to talk to her a little more.

"Yes. Do you?" he pressed, finally looking at her.

"I do. No unnecessary kissing and touching, no unnecessary flirting and, most importantly, no sex. Yes, daddy, I remember the plan," she joked, rolling her eyes annoyed.

His grip on the wheel tensed. Daddy? Seriously? When he turned to her, she was smirking. Bitch. "Fine. Then go."

"Alright. See you in a minute," she said, and Dean immediately gripped her wrist. "What?"

"Don't you dare say that and end up like Nat, okay?" he stated, really looking at her now. Don't die. Come back to me. "Be careful."

Helen pursed her lips in a soft smile. Despite hating her for not saying the three words back, he still had made a reference to Marvel, warming her heart. "I will."

Dean nodded, but didn't let go of her. He allowed his eyes to wander over the sweet curve of her lips.

He didn't kiss her. For his own sake, he couldn't do it.
So she left with a sigh, and he started the car, darting away. And he hoped she would not get hurt and wouldn't get taken away from him.
He couldn't lose her, too.

~~~

The club smelled of alcohol and weed. She kindly accepted a drink from the waiter and analyzed it the way she'd been trained to do, making sure there were no drugs or shit of any kind inside. When all was clear, she chucked it down, the alcohol burning her throat and stomach.