golden | dean winchester

|CHAPTER FOUR|

Remi wakes to the sun beating down on her and a soft hand shaking her shoulder. A gasp gets stuck in her throat as she jolts awake, her wide eyes meeting those of Dean Winchester. "You're back," she rasps. "How— how long have you been here? When did you—"

"I just got here," he reassures her. His eyebrows furrow as he looks down at her, her face giving nothing away. "Why are you worried about how long I've been here?"

"Just don't want you snooping around, Winchester."

Dean scoffs out a laugh, collapsing tiredly into the chair next to her. "As much as I've died in the last twenty-four hours, it seems like you're gonna have to get used to the snooping."

"Mhm," Remi wraps her arms around herself as she stands from the chair, shuffling toward the door. "Do you want to come inside? I can make some coffee, or tea. Whichever you pref—"

"I'll be here long enough for coffee?"

Remi looks over her shoulder as he trails in behind her, "no." Her breath catches in her throat when he brushes past her, his front pressing against the side of her body for a brief second. "But we can pretend."

Dean laughs, "just the thought of coffee has me energized, so I'll take whatever I can get."

The Williams slinks into the kitchen, standing behind the island and beginning to brew coffee as she studies Dean.

"Tell me about yourself," he requests.

Remi's eyebrows shoot up, "you wanna know all about someone you'll forget within the next five minutes?"

"It was just a suggestion," he broods.

"I'm one of three children," she begins—her gaze aimed down at the coffee pot. "I'm the youngest, the only girl. My brothers, Alex and Ashton, they're twins. Alex is getting married in a few months, and Ashton just had a baby."

"How do you know that?" Dean questions, moving closer to the island and leaning on the opposite side of it.

"They shouldn't do it because, well, it's counted as idolatry— but they pray to me. They talk to me and tell me all the new things about their lives."

"You were close with them?"

Remi looks up, meeting Dean's eyes with a nostalgic smile. "The closest," she marvels. "All three of us were joined at the hip. I'd—I'd do anything for them, and they'd do the same for me."

A sorrowful smile graces Dean's lips and he nods, ducking his head.

"What?" Remi asks.

The Winchester looks up, "what do you mean, what?"

Remi's eyes dart around his face, "did you make the demon deal for your brother?"

Dean's lips part in shock, "how'd you—how do you know that?"

"I saw the look on your face that day— when you told me you walked into traffic. When you mentioned your brother, you got this look on your face— this fierce look in your eyes. I'd recognize it anywhere," she murmurs. "It's the look of a big brother striving to protect his family."

Dean laughs wryly, "you got me. I traded my soul for Sam's life and what do I get? An eternity in hell."

Remi frowns, "you upset the balance— the natural order. There are consequences when you mess with death."

"You sound like you don't disagree with the punishment," he drones.

"I do. Of course I do," she snaps. "You're my— my friend, Dean. I don't take pleasure in the fact that you'll be tortured everyday in hell."

Realization dawns on the Winchester and he straightens up, "after— after this is over, after I stop dying, what about us?"

Remi crosses her arms, "what about us?"

Dean fixes her with a sharp look, "when will I see you next? Will I see you at all?"

"For someone who thinks I'm a pest, it sounds like you'll miss me," she teases.

"As if," Dean snorts. "I want to know ahead of time so I can prepare myself."

Remi shakes her head with a small smile. She turns and grabs coffee cups out of the cabinet, a smile tugging at her lips. "Tell me about Sam," she says.

Dean heaves a heavy breath, drumming his fingertips against the top of the counter. "Sam's—he's Sam."

"Oh yeah," Remi makes a face as she turns around. "Because that tells me loads about your brother."

Dean glares at her, his eyes following the motions of her hands as she pours coffee into the cups. "He's tall, smart as hell. He went to Stanford, studied Law. He's a bookworm, like you apparently. Computer freak, hates old school Rock."

"He sounds..." Remi looks at Dean. "Like the opposite of you." She slides his cup over to him.

The Winchester gapes, offended. "And how the hell did you come to that conclusion?"

"Dean," Remi starts wryly. "You scream old school Rock and vintage cars, and don't even get me started on—"

"Okay, okay," Dean interrupts her with the wave of his hand. "I get it, you're right. I'm still the more attractive brother, though."

Remi gazed at him blankly, her lips twitching as she watches Dean laugh at his own joke. "You know—" A saddened look crosses over Dean's face and Remi pauses, cocking her head. "What?"

"I feel—" he hesitates. "I think I'm gonna wake up again soon."

"Probably," Remi says quietly. "It's— it's okay. It's how things are supposed to happen. You can go whenever you feel is necessary."

"Whenever I feel is necessary?"

Remi stiffens at her mistake, her hands clutching onto her coffee cup tightly. "Goodbye, Dean."

The air in the room shifts and Dean's gone, taking a small piece of the blonde with him this time.