Twisted In Knots

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"Are we going to talk about it?"

I didn't turn to face him. My back was to him as I knelt beside the dishwasher – it had only been recently installed. The camp was coming together now with water, electricity, and other amenities.

"Talk about what?" I asked Dean from where he leaned against the kitchen counter behind me. He sipped a beer, and the evening sunlight shining on him through the windows made him look like something out of a painting.

"The Witnesses," he said, expecting me to respond. He waited several seconds before he sighed and set the beer down on the counter. "Come on, sweetheart, I've known you long enough to know when you're in your own head."

"I've been in my own head for much longer than the Witnesses have been around," I grumbled as I stood and closed the dishwasher. I turned to the stovetop beside Dean, intent on busying myself with cleaning up dinner, only to find that he had already taken care of it.

"So have I," he said as he scratched the back of his neck, unsure of how to carry on the conversation. He shifted his weight back and forth. "It just feels... worse, since I've been back."

"Baby, you haven't even been back a week."

"I know," he said with a sigh. "I just... I expected you to act differently when you saw your Witness."

I frowned and averted my gaze. Seeing Clarence again had been... jarring, to say the least. All you ever do is get people killed... I'm doing the world a favor... I shuddered as I remembered his words, words that I had feared hearing since my mother died and my father left.

Dean was right, things were different. Where I once would have broken down at the thought of causing someone harm, I now no longer gave it much thought. We couldn't save everyone, and I think I'd come to begrudgingly accept that. The reason I had left two years ago, after John's death, was now the reason I stayed – you can't save everyone, but we should try to save as many as possible,

"It's been a long few months- a long year," I answered with a huff and crossed my arms, lost in thought. "Things aren't great, but they're getting better."

"Yeah... that's one way to put it," he replied thoughtfully. Dean picked up his beer and took another sip. I watched his movements closely, taking in how alive he was. His steady breathing, his heartbeat, and the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed.

"What's that look for?" he asked with a teasing smirk, rousing me from my thoughts. I smiled, knowing that he had caught me staring.

I crossed the kitchen and he pulled me into his waiting arms. His hands were on my waist while I wrapped mine around his torso and rested my head on his chest. "I missed you," I said affectionately against the soft fabric of his worn gray-green t-shirt. I smiled at the feeling of his body moving when he laughed.

"Missed you, too, sweetheart," he said and pressed a kiss to the top of my head. One of his hands found the ends of my hair, playing with the strands as he often did. "Did I tell you I like the haircut?" he asked, commenting on my shorter hair.

I hummed affirmatively and closed my eyes. It felt so natural to have the warmth of his body pressed against me like this. I couldn't imagine my life any other way.

His hand stroked my hair, while the other dipped under the hem of my shirt. He kept his palm on my bare back, unmoving. I pulled away slightly and pressed my palms to his chest. I spread my fingers out across the fabric and felt his heart beating beneath my palm.

"Dean... do you really not remember anything?" I asked quietly, not wanting to say the taboo word. Hell. I didn't meet his gaze, for fear of what I would see. Would he be angry with me for asking? Would he be upset with me for prying?

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