Meant To Be {1} (Dean Winchester)

Chapter 2

           

Brooklyn

I remember sleeping in motels a lot before I went to Hell. Even after Hell, I had to stay somewhere when I was on the search for Dean. You found something you hated and loved every time you stepped into a hotel room. Sometimes it was the beds, or the food, or the bathrooms, or the TV, even just the pictures that hung on the wall could either make your day or destroy it.

But this time, it was different. I couldn't find anything bad when I walked into the hotel room. Sure there were only two beds and three people, but that didn't even click in my brain at first.

Dean immediately loaded the extra beer into the fridge, not letting it get any warmer than it had already.

Sam already sat up his laptop on the table, along with notes and books.

They knew the routine. I didn't though.

I remember a time when I'd throw my bag at the end of the bed and just lay down for a minute, absorbing everything. I remember I'd find the nearest dinner and get some take out before going back to the hotel room to investigate only to fall asleep at the table.

I never unpacked. I never got situated. I never made it feel like home.

"Well, I'm grabbing a quick shower," Sam said since he was the only one who hadn't showered back at the cabin. He laid his bag furthest from the door, setting the bag down and grabbing his clothes.

For me, I would have left half my bags in the back of my car and end up just bring in the one bag I had into the bathroom with me. Not Sam.

When the door closed to the bathroom, leaving just the silence between Dean and me, I noticed Dean was already kicking off his shoes. He stopped and looked up at me, noticing my unmoving spot since we walked in.

"Oh, um, did you want the bed? I mean, I don't mind sleeping on the couch," Dean asked, pointing behind him at the bed he was already sitting on.

I smiled and shook my head, "No, that's okay. I've slept on worst things besides a couch," I said, finally finding my steps and making my way over to the red couch. My butt planted itself on the cushions, my bag sitting in front of me on the coffee table.

Dean confused when he pointed to me, asking, "You still have that thing?" At first I didn't understand what he meant, until I realized that my hand had found its way up to my necklace without my knowledge, playing with it again.

It then clicked in my brain.

"Yeah, I guess I forgot about it," I said, slipping the necklace off and standing up. The necklace hung in my fingers as I handed it over to Dean, "Here, it's yours."

Dean looked at the necklace, his eyes tracing over the circle that had a blue background and a demon star in the middle of it. It was something Dean had given me way back in Hell. I promised him I'd give it back once we made it out. Guess I forgot.

"Na, you keep it, looks better on you," He said with a smirk, his eyes looking up into mine.

I smiled, feeling my cheeks blush slightly. In hopes of Dean not noticing, I slipped the necklace back on and went back over to the couch. The second my butt touch the seat, I noticed Dean's reaction had changed. He was no longer smirking or happy, he looked worried, nervous, on edge.

"Dean, you okay?" I asked? Though Sam had asked him this many times before, I had hoped that since it was coming from me, he'd open up.

A long sigh left his lips as he rubbed his hands in front of him, looking at the wall while his mind probable ran off somewhere else.