Don't Go Eating My Heart

Tell Me Why

This chapter is based on Season 4 Episode 17. I am not responsible for spoilers in the comments.

"Can I get you anything?" Dean asked Marley quietly as they walked into his house.

"No I'm okay, thank you." Her voice was just as quiet as his.

Dean mumbled a quiet okay before squeezing her hand and walking over to his fridge. Marley glanced around his house and looked at how fancy and clean it all was- the color scheme was all black and white. It was very open concept and there was a gas fireplace in front of a wall of windows that overlooked the city. As she continued looking around her eyes landed on Sam who was standing with his hands shoved in his khakis.

When he noticed her looking at him he offered a small smile.

"Crazy huh?" Marley asked quietly.

"The house or the whole ghost thing?"

Marley ducked her head, causing her hair to fall in her face, and chuckled lightly. Sam smiled at her as she looked back up, her grey eyes sparkling in amusement.

"Both I guess."

"Holy crap dude." Dean said to Sam as he walked back from the kitchen; he was once again drinking some disgusting healthy drink.

"Yeah. I could use a beer."

"Oh sorry man. I'm on the cleanse. I got rid of all the carbs in the house." Dean said as he walked back over to the fridge to get Sam a water.

"He won't even eat bacon. It's sad." Marley whispered to Sam as he leaned against the back of the couch.

Sam grinned at the girl who was sitting in one of the dining room chairs across from him.

"Hey, how the heck did you know that ghosts are scared of wrenches?"

Dean let out a breathy laugh as he handed a water bottle to Sam. "Crazy right? And nice job kicking in that door too. That was very Jet Li. What are you- like a black belt or something?"

"No." Sam chuckled and his eyes sparkled with happiness. "I have no clue how I did that."

"And you-" Marley's head shot up to look at Dean. "Lifting that shelf? I mean how much do you bench?"

Marley blushed in embarrassment. "That was... I don't know. It must have been adrenaline or something."

"Do either of you ever get the feeling like you- like you don't belong here? Like you should be doing something more?"

"Than sitting in a cubicle?" Marley questioned.

"Exactly!"

"I think most people who work in a cubicle feel that same way."

Sam dipped his head, struggling to come up with the words. "No. Well it's more than that like... like I don't like my job. I don't like this town. I don't like my clothes. I don't like my own last name. I... I don't know how else to explain it, other than I feel like I should be doing something else. There's just something in my blood."

"Like drugs."

Marley muttered it to herself, but both boys heard her and sent her looks. Her eyes widened as she realized they heard her.

"I- I'm sorry. I didn't mean- it's just that-" She paused and took a breath. "Do you not see how weird this appears to other people? I mean you talk about serial killers and- and ghosts. And you know how to kick doors in?"

Both of the boys continued to stare at the normally quiet girl who had just gone on a rant and was now breathing heavily and staring at her lap. Dean glanced at Sam before walking over and kneeling in front of Marley. He gently placed his hand on top of hers in her lap. Her eyes slowly lifted to meet his and the anxiety she was feeling melted away as she stared into his green eyes. Neither of them spoke, and the moment was over in under 30 seconds.