The Dream I Dreamed (A Dean Winchester Love Story)

Chapter 4: I Dreamed That Love Would Never Die

Chapter 4 I Dreamed That Love Would Never Die

When Dean got to his room and lay down on his bed he tossed and turned, feeling restless and uncomfortable. He drifted off a couple of times but always woke up before he could get really deeply asleep.

Finally, he gave up and climbed out of bed, deciding he might as well do some research if he couldn't get any sleep. He slipped on his robe and headed to the main room of the bunker.

When he got into the hall he heard a sound and froze, listening closer. It came again, a small cry. He grabbed a gun from the dresser just inside his room and took a step down the corridor, toward the source of the sound.

As Dean inched down the hall, his eyes scanning through the darkness warily, he realized that the sound was coming from Hope's room. His heart gave a small leap in his chest, but he swallowed the feeling, continuing forward.

The door was not closed completely, and Dean could hear the sound coming through the crack. He slipped his gun into the gap and shoved the door open, stepping in quickly.

Hope was sitting on her bed. Her legs were pulled tight to her chest and her back faced the door. As Dean watched her small body shook as a muffled sob filled the room. The hunter realized that she was crying.

He lowered his gun, tucking it into the waist of his jeans at the small of his back. "Hope?" he asked cautiously.

The angel jumped and whirled around to face him. When she realized who it was she wiped her eyes quickly, trying to hide her tears. "Dean! What are you doing here?"

"What's wrong?" he asked gently, taking a step toward the bed.

"Nothing." she said softly, ducking her head so he wouldn't see the redness surrounding her gray-blue eyes.

Dean shook his head, lowering himself to sit on the mattress beside her, leaving about a foot between them. "I know that look; it's something. You can tell me."

Hope sighed. "I have been alive since God created humans." she began. "I have lived among them with no knowledge of who I really was. Life after life I have gathered friends and family, people that I love and care about, century after century." her voice faltered momentarily. She swallowed, her throat thick and her eyes filling with tears again. "I remember every single one of them, and they're all gone. Dead." she took a deep breath. "I don't know how to process that kind of loss, that magnitude of grief. It's like...like..."

"Like a black hole has opened inside of you, and with every breath a little piece of you falls in and is obliterated?" Dean interrupted. Hope looked up at his face, shocked, but we was looking straight ahead, not at her. "And every inch of you aches on the inside, like you just can't quite breathe deep enough or no matter how much you eat your stomach still feels hollow. And the world around you is just kind of gray and empty."

There was a short silence as the angel fumbled for an answer. She finally settled for another question. "How many have you lost?" Hope asked gently.

"Too many." Dean replied quietly. He momentarily shifted his green gaze to Hope, his eyes darting away quickly. They were moist and red around the edges. "Some days I think I should just stop caring about anything because it hurts too damn much when it all goes to hell." The hunter sighed, shaking his head. Hope nodded slightly, staring at the green irises that were less than a foot from her face. "But some days I just want to..." He glanced at the angel who blushed when his eyes met hers.

"What?" Neither broke the stare.

"Some days I just want to...to..." Suddenly Dean seemed to come back to himself. All of the emotion that,had been so vivid in his eyes just moments before was gone, replaced by a hard, cool wall of green. "Nothing."

"What? Dean, you can tell me--"

"I said nothing. Never mind." He insisted, looking away from the hurt expression in Hope's pale blue eyes. He stood as if to leave then paused, suddenly feeling guilty. "It's not you, it's just.....I...I..." He felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes and shoved them back. "I just can't talk about it." He managed, his voice only quivering a little. He fled the room before Hope could see how upset he was.

"Dean! Dean, wait!" the angel called after him, but he didn't so much,as slow down. He knew she could just zap in front of him and force him to explain, but she didn't . Maybe she knew he needed to be alone. Maybe she simply forgot she could. For whatever reason, he was grateful.

Dean was terrified of what he had felt in that room with her. How could I let someone in like that? He chastised himself. Everyone I've ever loved, everything I've ever cared about, has been ripped away from me. The Hunter reminded himself, feeling again the pain of it. He made the decision as he ducked into his room, shutting the door behind him and collapsing on his bed, that he would not fall in love with Hope.

Hope sighed and sat back down on her bed. She could tell Dean didn't want to be followed, so she let him go. She closed her eyes, remembering how beautiful those green eyes were when he removed his defenses and let you see. Then she thought of the pain that was bottled up inside the hunter, eating away at him. She knew exactly how he felt. Maybe one day he'll trust me enough to let me in. She thought.