As It Was - Dean Winchester

Part 17

I had ended up on the couch once again. When we checked into the motel in the dead of night and got told that there only was one room left, it didn't seem to matter that much. All I cared about was sleep. But the pain in my back and hips from laying on this particularly hard couch kept me up. I twisted and turned, groaning in frustration as I tried to get comfortable. Eventually, I fell asleep, too exhausted to stay awake even a second longer.

Sometime during the night, I felt someone's strong arms around me, carrying me. A flash of a memory I didn't know I had when John once carried me to my bed. I didn't open my eyes, too tired to even care.

"John?" I mumbled, expecting to hear his deep baritone voice tell me to shut up and sleep. Instead, the deep, hushed voice that answered belonged to someone else.

"No, it's me." For just a second, I had forgotten where I was, who I was with, and why. Dean's voice woke me up from that illusion.

I should have told him to put me down, questioned why he was carrying me, and smacked the back of his head for taking the liberty. Instead, I nuzzled my head deeper into his chest, drunk with sleep. I could feel his tense muscles work as he put me down on something soft. I moaned in pleasure as I felt the soft fabric of the cheap motel comforter, the mattress instantly took some pressure off my back, making the pain ease up.

As he removed his arms, I felt my hand trail down to his forearms and grab his hand, making him stop. "Where will you sleep?" I mumbled, my voice hoarser than usual.

"I'll take the couch."

"No," I mumbled before I could stop myself. I was too tired to let my mind work. "That couch is torture. I need you to have my back tomorrow." It was just a whisper like I had just told him a secret. No longer having the energy to speak, I moved over and tugged a little on his hand, making sure he understood what I was telling him.

It took a few seconds, but soon the bed dipped beside me, but I was already back to sleep.

The next time I woke up, it felt hot. I was confused at first, not remembering how I ended up in the bed, but when I felt soft breaths against my skin, I remembered. Slowly I opened my eyes, letting them adjust to the sunlight that flooded in through some curtains. Sam's bed was empty, and I heard water running in the bathroom.

It took me a full second to realize why I felt so hot. Dean's legs were tangled up with mine, his arm around me, holding me tight, his palm flushed against the small of my back, just above my ass. I was fully turned to him and would have been facing him if he wasn't further down on the mattress than I was, his head nuzzled into the crane of my neck and my arms around him.

My cheeks flushed, and I carefully untangled myself, making Dean stir in his sleep. I moved out of the bed as his hand searched for me on the mattress, gripping empty sheets. He turned to his stomach, and to my relief, he fell back asleep, one arm tucked under the pillow. I bit my lip, glad that I didn't wake him up.

The bathroom door opened, and in a cloud of steam, Sam walked out with a towel wrapped around his waist.

"Oh, you're up." He smirked at me when he noticed how flushed I was after literally catching me staring at his brother. "When did that happen?" He nodded over to the bed Dean and I had shared up until two seconds ago.

"When did what happen?" I asked, drilling my eyes into his ember ones and challenging him to say another word about it. He held up his hands in surrender, but the smirk remained on his lips. "You done in there?" I asked, frustrated, nodding to the bathroom.

"Yeah."

I hurried inside and locked the door. I stared at my reflection. Hair was sticking out of my braids in every direction, and the pink on my cheeks glowed on my slightly tanned skin. After a quick shower, I used a hairdryer to dry my hair, and it wasn't until after that that I realized I didn't bring any clothes.