Cowboys and Angels (A Dean Winchester/ Supernatural FanFiction)

Chapter 9: Stay

Chapter  9: Stay

We made it back to the bunker in record time. I helped Dean transport Sam inside, trying to comfort the younger brother and trying to keep him awake. He was in pretty bad condition. Dean and I discovered that besides all of the gashes, the Wendigo had ripped open Sam’s side, nearly piercing an artery. His shirt was stiff with dried blood and the light in his eyes had faded.

We did what we could, but eventually even Dean was on the verge of defeat. We had patched Sam up as best as we could, but he had lost a ton of blood. Eventually, Dean, seeing how tired I had become, told me to take a break and go check on Cas. I opened my mouth to protest, but the look he gave me shut me up instantly. Nodding, I turned, heading down the hall to Cas’s room, knocking quietly on the door. The fallen angel opened the door seconds later.

Pure exhaustion was written all over his face and a hint of melancholy and regret rested in his eyes. I asked if he had taken care of his wounds and was met with a shake of his head. Sighing, I turned, rushing down the hall to grab a bottle of whiskey, a washcloth, some dental floss, and a needle. He seemed rather startled by the objects at first, but after I explained to him the procedure he just nodded, slipping off his blood-stained trench coat and his ripped button down, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

I sat down behind him, pouring some of the whiskey on the washcloth and dabbing at the gashes on his back. He gasped, surprised, jumping up. I apologized, guiding him back to his original place and being slightly gentler this time, whispering soothing words as I worked. Although it took me awhile, I managed to patch him up, giving him some powerful painkillers and sending him to bed. He thanked me, a small smile gracing his lips before he disappeared back into his room. I left him be, making my way down the hall and into the main room.

Here, I searched through bookshelf after bookshelf until I finally found the book I was looking for. The symbols that had been sewn into the pillows back at Dylan’s house had sparked my curiosity. I took my place in one of the chairs at the table, which is where I still resided now, and opened the book about Algonquin and Anasazi symbols, paging through the book.

A little while later, the door at the back of the room opened. I looked up, my eyes meeting the familiar emerald eyes of Dean. He looked absolutely exhausted—almost defeated. He slid me one of the two beers he had in his hands. I caught it, pulling out the chair beside me as he approached.

“Thanks,” we both said unison, but for different reasons. I smiled, closing the book and placing it on the table, turning towards him as he sat down.

“How is he,” I asked, taking a swig. The older brother sighed.

“He’ll be alright. I honestly thought there for awhile he wouldn’t ma-,” but his voice broke mid-sentence. He closed his eyes, a tear escaping, sliding slowly down his cheek. This honestly shattered my heart. The bond they had was unbreakable, and Cas was right. It was hard to find two brothers with such a strong bond—a bond where they’d do anything to protect the other.

I reached forward, gently wiping it away, then getting up, I bent down in front of him, pulling his head against my chest, kissing his forehead. He reached forward, wrapping his arms around my lower back and pulling me onto his lap, my legs spreading his hips. I wrapped my arms around him, pulling him closer to me. He dug his face into the crook of my neck, seemingly upset. I gently rubbed his back, laying a small kiss to his neck before resting my head on top of his. We were like that for awhile. All was silent.

Eventually he sat up again, pulling my body against his. We fit together perfectly. He stole a gentle kiss, running his hands down my sides and along my hips. I trailed a finger across his chest and his abs, a content sign escaping my lips. Dean ran a gentle string of kisses down my neck, picking me up and sitting me down on the table, sliding his hand slyly up my skirt. I stole his lips again, pushing my hands through his hair. He angled his head, deepening the kiss. It soon grew heated. I pushed his jacket off, slapping his hand when he attempted to slide my skirt off.