Chapter 24:

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I headed to the kitchen, grabbing a beer out of the fridge and going up to my office. I opened my computer and looked up visiting hours of the mental hospital that Lana was in. Tomorrow, the visiting hours started at 1 and ended at 3. I laid on the futon and stared up at the ceiling. I felt bad for not seeing Lana in a while, and I felt even worse that the first time I was going to see her was going to be to bring up the past. I wondered how she had been? I had left her alone because my mother had told me she didn't want to see anyone that was still in the life after what happened, and I can't say I didn't get it. I closed my eyes and pulled my blanket around myself, soon feeling myself falling asleep.

I woke up to the feeling of someone shaking me gently. I let out a yawn and peeled open my eyes. I looked up, seeing Sam standing above me.

"Hey, I'm sorry to bother you, but Dean and I can't find his flannel." Sam said, quietly. I rubbed my eyes.

"I'll help you." I murmured, looking around the room, attempting to regain my bearings, "What time is it?"

"It's 10am." Sam answered, outstretching his hand. I accepted it, standing up off the futon. He allowed me to go down the ladder first and I took the first few steps, lowering myself through the hole in the floor. I let out a loud yawn as I stepped down, but my foot didn't meet a bar. I yelped as I fell backwards, expecting my back to meet the hard ground. Instead, I felt strong arms wrap around me, bracing me against their chest. I looked back, seeing it was Dean. He grimaced slightly as my head made contact with the gunshot wound on his shoulder.

"Are you okay?" Dean asked, placing me down on the ground.

"Yeah." I murmured, turning to look at him, "You?" He gave me a small nod and I allowed my gaze to survey his body. He was dressed in his usual jeans and t-shirt with one work boot and a brace on his bad leg, but his flannel was, indeed, missing. Sam stepped down onto the floor behind me and I brushed past the two men, looking around my messy living room. "Where have you guys looked?" I asked, bending down and picking up a rogue blanket, tossing it back onto the couch.

"I looked through the coat rack and both cars." Sam answered.

"And I looked through my bags and both bedrooms" Dean added. I hummed quietly as I headed to the laundry room.

"I have a bad habit of never putting clean laundry away." I murmured, opening the dryer and taking a seat on the ground. I started pulling out the clothes, stacking them in my lap. "Can one of you check the washer?" I asked, "I'm not seeing it in here." I hummed, looking behind me. Sam nodded and opened the washing machine, bending forward and fishing through it. He straightened, pulling out the flannel that I had worn last night, still dripping wet from the washer cycle. I blushed, looking back at Dean, "I'm sorry, I got cold last night." I murmured. His face softened.

"It's okay." Dean said back, a solemn smile spreading across his face, "Just keep it." I felt my heart ache as I stared up at him, quirking my head to the side slightly.

"Are you sure?" I asked. He gave a slight nod.

"Yeah." He murmured, "You can give it back the next time you see me." I felt myself smile as tears welled up in my eyes. I looked down at my lap in an attempt to conceal my feelings from the man above me. I started loading the clothes back in the dryer as Sam dropped the flannel back into the washing machine. I stood, following the two men to the front door. Sam was shouldering his bags and Dean was pulling on his canvas jacket. Sam opened his arms and I pulled him into a brief hug.

"Bye." He murmured. I smiled, sadly, pulling back and meeting his eyes.

"See you soon." I said.

"See you soon." Sam corrected himself. I squeezed his hands reassuringly, and a sweet smile spread across his handsome face. He headed out the door, leaving me and Dean to say our goodbyes privately, which I was thankful for.

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