The Dream I Dreamed (A Dean Winchester Love Story)

Chapter 21: Shame (Part 3)

Chapter 21 Shame (Part 3)

When Dean got back to the bunker, Hope was awake. He shook thoughts of the mark and the Blade out of his mind as he stepped into their room. He slipped off his jacket and sat on the edge of the bed. Hope lowered the book she was reading and smiled at him. "Hi."

"Hey." Dean smiled back, completely forgetting his stress over everything that had happened that day. "You hot?" he asked, noticing she was only wearing a tank top and pajama shorts.

Hope nodded. "Yeah. When I woke up I was cocooned in blankets. I had to get Sam to unwrap me. Where did you go?" Hope asked. There was no accusation in her voice, just sincere curiosity about what he had been doing.

Dean was unsure how to answer for a moment. He didn't want to tell Hope about the mark of Cain. Not yet. It would only worry her, and that wouldn't help her get better, but he knew she would be able to tell if he was lying. "Field research." He answered truthfully, but vaguely. "I think I found a way to kill Abaddon."

"Really? How?"

"Don't worry about it." Dean evaded. He brushed the hair out of her eyes in an attempt to distract her, but her gray gaze sharpened, became piercing.

"Dean-" she started, sitting up.

"Hope, I promise it's fine, okay?" Dean sighed. "Please don't worry. Just relax, concentrate on getting better. How do you feel?"

Hope rolled her eyes, recognizing the change of subjects for what it was, but she answered his question. "I'm okay. A little tired, a little sore, but okay."

Dean nodded. "You hungry?"

Hope thought for a moment. "Yes." She finally answered.

"I'll go make you something." Dean said, starting to get up.

"I want to get up. Eat in there." Hope protested. "Please? I'm tired of being shut up in here."

Dean considered for a moment. Finally, he nodded. "Okay." Hope started to sit up and swing her legs off of the bed. Dean put a gentle hand on her back. "Here, let me help." They got her to the edge of the bed and Hope was about to stand up when Dean noticed two pale scars on her back, between her shoulder blades, running parallel to her spine. He traced them with his thumb and forefinger. "Are these from-"

"My wings?" Hope interrupted. "Yeah." She sighed and a shiver ran down her spine. "That actually feels really good."

Dean smiled and placed a kiss to each scar, then massaged the pale pink skin. Hope sighed again, and they stayed like that until Hope's stomach growled, making them both laugh. "Let's get you some food." Dean said, helping Hope to her feet.

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After they ate, Dean settled Hope down on the couch. Sam and Cas were doing research at the table. "Find anything?" Dean asked, joining them.

Castiel shook his head. "I am beginning to think that the Knights are impossible to kill."

"Didn't you say you found something?" Hope asked.

Cas perked up. "Did you?"

"I..." He struggled. It was obvious that he wasn't telling them something.

"Dean." Sam sighed, irritated. "When were you going to tell us?"

"Nothing's for sure yet. Crowley still has to--"

"Crowley?" Sam interrupted. "You were working with Crowley? And you didn't tell us?"

"Dean, what did you do?" Hope asked, her earlier worry returning.

"Nothing-" he began.

Suddenly Cas reached out and grabbed Dean's right arm. He slid up the sleeve of Dean's shirt to reveal the mark. "What is that?" Sam asked.

"The mark of Cain." Cas answered, his sapphire eyes locked on Dean's.

"The mark of Cain?" Hope asked. "Dean-"

"Hope, it's fine, okay?" he insisted walking over to her and kneeling in front of the couch. "I'll be fine."

Hope shook her head. "You don't know that. What if-"

"It doesn't matter!" Dean shouted suddenly. "Can't you see it doesn't matter? What happens to me. What my consequences are. Killing Abaddon....it's worth all that. And if I die....fine. Other people will live. Better people will live."

"What about me?" Hope asked, her eyes filling with tears. "I love you, Dean. I love you. And I don't want....I don't want you to die." her voice broke. "Not ever. And especially not thinking that you're just a piece of scrap metal that the world can do without." She shoved his chest. "God, when will you stop hating yourself? How many people do you have to save before you deserve to live? All of them? You can't, Dean. You can't save them all. But you can save a few. If you live. And a few is a hell of a lot better than none at all. I'm happy to take my chances with you, Dean Winchester. Please take your chances with me."

Dean shook his head. "You don't get it."

"What? What don't I get?" She asked.

"Anything!" Dean yelled, standing up and walking a few feet away.

When Hope spoke again her voice was quiet and full of ice. "You're right. I don't get it." She whispered, getting shakily to her feet. "I don't get how you can be 'altruistic' to the point of cruelty to the people who love you and still call it altruism. You don't want to die for others. You want to die for you." Dean looked up at her, his green eyes surprised and hurt, but she didn't flinch, just stalked off to her old room, the one she slept in before they started sharing his.

Dean looked at Castiel and Sam, their faces a mask of sympathy to conceal the fact that they agreed with Hope's words. Before they could get any of their facetious apologies out he stormed away, too, slamming the door to his room behind him.

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Hope curled up in her bed. She wasn't sure why she had yelled at Dean like that; it had just come out of her. She wanted to stop. She didn't want to see the pain in his eyes, didn't want to know she had put it there.

She buried her head in her pillow, regretting everything she had said, but for some reason she couldn't bring herself to take it back. Instead, she tried to go to sleep, hoping she would feel better after some rest, but she couldn't get comfortable. The bed was cold without Dean beside her and she didn't have enough blankets. She was still in her tank top and shorts and all of her other clothes were in Dean's room. The bed and pillow were hard and flat compared to Dean's memory foam mattress. Her shoulders ached where her wings had been. She couldn't even read; all of her books were in Dean's room as well.

But most of all, she just missed Dean.