The Records of Dean Winchester and Elena Gilbert

Conflate

Conflate |kənˈflāt|

            verb

            To bring together; to combine two things (i.e. objects, lives, etc.) into a composite whole.

[Editor's Note]: Now technically, Elena and Dean lived together from the beginning. The bunker was their home, as it was also Sam's and mine. However, having been together for almost two years, they thought it was important to take the next step in a normal relationship—even if their lives were far from normal. It was quite amusing to watch, I must say. I am explaining too much; I will move to the content now.

February 24th, 2018

            "Don't get up," Dean groans, tugging Elena's arm. She hesitates, sitting on the edge of his bed. "It's too early to get up."

            "I have to get ready," Elena counters, but she lets Dean pull her down on his chest. He grips her loosely, sleep still evident in his body language. Elena breathes him in, getting a little too comfortable before she remembers the task at hand. She clambers off his chest, dodging his reaching hands as she spins towards the door.

            Dean falls back into a light sleep while she's gone, just under the surface of consciousness. He sees her eyes behind his eyelids, feels her fingers dusting the curves of his shoulder blades. The sound of the door handle turning draws him up and out of the restlessness and he opens his eyes to watch Elena slip back into the room.

            She's fully dressed now, in her hands the shirt of Dean's she had been wearing. As he's watching, she folds it neatly, putting it back on his dresser. His eyes scan her frame lazily, soaking in the tight jeans and deep red sweater. Her hair is pulled up in a ponytail, shorter strands hanging around her face. Elena pushes them behind her ears when she turns to face Dean.

            "Morning," she mumbles, crossing the room and sitting on the side of the bed. Her fingers scrape across his scalp lovingly and Dean moans approvingly. "It's not time for your alarm to go off yet. You can still go back to sleep."

            "Not without you," Dean mumbles, and it's in this moment he realizes he must still only be half-awake. Elena must notice too, for her lips turn upward in amusement. "That was cheesy, sorry."

            "It was cute," Elena says, her hand leaving his hair and sliding down his arm. She takes his hand, looking down at their intertwined fingers and frowning. "I wanted to run something by you."

            "Is something wrong?" Dean sits up, rubbing at his eyes with his free hand in an attempt to get the sleep out of his system. Elena shakes her head quickly.

            "No, not at all," she assures him. "I just... we've been together for almost two years now."

            "Oh shit, are you proposing?" Dean rips his hand out of Elena's, suddenly painfully awake. Elena flinches, but Dean doesn't consider the possibility of his words hurting her in this moment. "Elena, I thought you knew. I don't want—"

            "I'm not proposing," Elena says harshly, her eyes darker than they previously were. "I know how you feel about the construct. I was actually wondering if you wanted to move in together."

[Editor's Note]: Recently, I have been helping the Angel tasked with the "Father and Son" file I previously mentioned. He and I came to conclusion that Dean's perception of marriage comes from his father. Though John Winchester was married, most of Dean's memory of John was without his wife. Dean knew his father as a man destroyed by grief, and we believe this led Dean to want to protect himself from marriage and the heartbreak it could carry. This is extra information, of course, but I thought you might be interested.