Destiny ~ Dean Winchester (Love Story)

23

×Angie POV×

"Did Bobby just shoot me with a shotgun?", I asked Sam and he just helplessly nodded looking at all of the blood.

A few metres over, Dean was harshly grabbing Bobby by his brown jacket. I haven't seen Dean this angry since the leprechaun spell.

"Guys!", I bellowed while fishing the bullet out of the wound. Dean stared at me in horror while I threw the thing onto the streets asphalt. "It's not a weapon against angels!", I reminded all of them and I felt Sam instantly relaxing next to me.

I kind of limbed over to Bobby and the older Winchester, Sam following me like a puppy who felt sorry for something.

Without thinking I grabbed Deans arm to stabilize myself. Half-angel or no half-angel, I was starting to feel dizzy. He looked down at me in worry and I realized his whole face, including the hair was wet.

"Holy water. Bobby here thought I was a demon.", Dean commented, annoyed.

"First I thought she was.", the older man mumbled, putting the shotgun behind him as if we caught him with a toy he shouldn't have.
From my point of view, he definitely fucking shouldn't.

"You shot me because you thought I was a demon?", I had to ask in disbelief. This at least told me as much about his personality as I needed to know: Shoot first, ask questions later kind of guy.

"You were driving the Impala. Something was wrong.", Bobby weakly tried to defend himself. I honestly didn't even know what to respond at that.

Dean seemed to realize just now that I was still holding onto him.
He was already reaching for my shirt, then stopped to look for consent in my face. I gave him a quick nod to tell him he could continue.

When he seperated the fabric from the wound, I hissed a little bit but other than that, Dean was careful not to touch anything.

"It already stopped bleeding. You want me to sew it?", he asked.

"Are y'all crazy! I could've hit an organ, go to a goddamn hospital!", Bobby was grunting at us in disbelief, looking at my stomach in absolute disgust.

"Sewing should do it.", I answered Dean instead of acknowledging Bobby. He would have to make this up to me but right now I couldn't really deal with him.

"Angie's body mostly heals itself.", Sam engaged in the discussion, already holding up a first aid kid. This was all happening very in-between-doors and I started to feel uncomfortable. Sam handed me the kit and I awkwardly grabbed it.

I glanced hesitantly at Dean who seemed to understand right away because he picked me up with ease to get me back to the Impala.

Bobby mumbled something along the lines of "what in the world is going on with that idjit". I couldn't hear Sams response though.

Dean let me down in the open trunk of the Impala and I kind of manouvred myself into a position between laying and sitting, my elbows holding my upper body up.

He seemed to be completely in his element, routenily desinfecting the wound, tapping some of the remaining blood away.
When Sam once told me that his brother was better at this, he wasn't lying.
His rough hands were so coordinated and stable. I watched in fascination how Dean worked himself along my stomach, trying not to remember how those fingers felt inside of me.
Damn it.

After he reassured himself by looking at my face to determine if I was ready, he started stitching.
I tried not to make any sounds but I couldn't help a little whimper escaping me. Dean froze and I just knew he was thinking about last night. Same noise, different context.