I woke up with a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach. The guilt from the previous night had not yet subsided, and I was left wondering if I should just come right out and tell Dean the truth.
In the simplest terms, I felt like the worst person on the planet.
I sighed, wondering whether or not I should get up. I rolled over, looking at the clock on the nightstand. The green numbers glowed dimly, the colon between the hour and minutes flashing. The clock read a time I had learned to dread – 1:57 am.
I groaned, louder than I had intended to. I panicked when Dean began to stir next to me, shutting my eyes and tossing my arms to random places, trying to make it look like I was still asleep.
“Marilyn?” Dean asked sleepily, turning his head to look at me. I didn’t answer, just kept my eyes shut. “Baby?” he poked me.
“Hm?” I said, lazily rolling my head to the side.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah?” I blinked a few times, trying to appear confused. “Why?”
“I- You were making noise, I thought maybe something was wrong.”
“Oh, no, I’m fine. Maybe it was Sam.”
Dean shook his head slightly. “No, it came from this room.” His eyes snapped open, and he sat up. “Is something in the bunker?”
“What?”
“I heard something-“
“I was having a nightmare,” I lied. “Maybe I was making noise.”
He nodded, laying down again. “Oh, okay. Want to talk about it?”
“Since when are you one to talk about feelings?” I teased him.
He rolled his eyes, smiling. “I was trying to be a good boyfriend.”
“You are,” I leaned up to kiss his jaw. “I promise.”
His smiled grew, and he nodded again. “What time is it?”
“Around two am, I think.”
Dean groaned, putting a pillow over his head. “Let me sleep, woman.”
“You woke me up!” I laughed quietly.
He threw his pillow at me. “Shut up.”
I rolled my eyes, smiling as I rolled over so my back was facing him. “Whatever.”
He chuckled, grabbing my waist and pulling me to him. He left a few kisses on my neck before mumbling, “I love you,” as he drifted back to sleep.
--
“So are we done hunting?” Sam asked, taking a bite of his toast.
Dean shrugged, looking at me.
“What?” I asked after taking a sip of my coffee.
“Are we done?”
“I’m not a hunter,” I said, shrugging. “So it’s not up to me.”
Dean rolled his eyes, and Sam grinned. “Well, do you want us to stop?”
I took a second to think about it, thinking of good and bad things that could come from them continuing to hunt.
Cons: They could notice I’m different, figure out I’m a demon before I want them to.
Pros: If they kept hunting, they wouldn’t be paying as much attention to me.
“Keep hunting,” I said, feeling incredibly selfish. I was only thinking about myself, not about the people who actually needed the Winchester’s help.
