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spnhunter4life · 2 years ago
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So Long Version 2 Chapter 10
Word Count: 4.2k
A/N: The moment we've been waiting for! I hope everyone is as happy with this ending as I am. Thanks to everyone who has read and supported this story. It's been a lot of work, but the end result is something I am proud of. They say to write the story you want to read, and I'm definitely looking forward to reading this all the way through now that it's finally finished. I hope everyone who reads it enjoys it as much as I do! Let me know what you think!
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Ages 24 and 25 August 2004
“That’s… You… I’m…” Dean trailed off, unable to complete a thought. His eyes kept darting back and forth between my eyes and his name. He took a deep, calming breath. “Really?” He questioned like he couldn’t quite believe it. Like he thought he read it wrong or I’d drawn his name on myself in sharpie or something.
 I dropped my shirt and shrugged, not entirely sure how to interpret his reaction. Was showing him a mistake after all?
“Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked.
“What, you mean like ‘Hey, Dean. As you know, I turned 16 today, and guess who’s name showed up? Yours! I hope that’s not weird since you turned 16 over a year ago and haven’t said anything to me, so even though you’re my soulmate, I must not be yours?’”
“What? You think-” Dean sat on the bed and began unlacing his left boot. I watched, confused.
“What are you doing?” I asked him. He yanked his boot off, pushed his sock down and pulled the leg of his jeans up a little.
“You thought this was one sided?” He asked incredulously. He lifted his foot onto the bed, showing me his ankle. 
My breath caught when I saw my name there. This was real, then. I really did belong to him the way he belonged to me. He didn’t have a different soulmate and my gut feeling that we were meant to be together was right, not just the product of longing for someone I could never have. 
“You really thought that there was a possibility I could ever have anyone other than you as my soulmate?”
“Well, to be honest I kind of assumed you knew. Maybe not about the soulmate part,” I clarified when he scoffed and raised his eyebrows. “But at least how much I like you.”
He was still staring at me with a mixture of shock and exasperation, so I nervously barreled on.
“I mean, it seems like everywhere we go people immediately pick up on it. And I tried to hide it, but apparently I haven’t done a very good job. So I figured you must know and were just being nice enough not to say anything about it. Besides, you never looked twice at me. What was I supposed to think?”
“Are you kidding? You’re the only one I ever looked at.”
“Tell that to all the girls you’ve been with,” I countered. “And look, I realize we weren’t together so you had the right to be with anyone you wanted. But don’t tell me you only had eyes for me.”
“It’s true,” he argued. I scoffed and he clenched his jaw. “The only reason I ever paid any attention to any of them is because I didn’t think I could have you, the one person I really wanted. And I seem to recall you going on a few dates yourself,” he answered.
“You might also remember that I only went on dates when friends set me up. I usually wasn’t thrilled about it and it never went past the first date. And that’s not even the point.”
“Then what is?”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked. “You knew for a year and a half longer than I did. Why didn’t you say something?” Dean sighed.
“You know, when we were growing up, everywhere we went people knew how I felt about you. At every school the guys would tell me how whipped I was and the girls were always asking if we were dating. It shocked me how I was apparently so obvious and yet you could still be so clueless about it. I mean, you know me better than anyone. How could you of all people not see it? Even now you look surprised to hear it.”
I realized that while I was listening to Dean talk, my eyebrows had wrinkled together. 
“Yeah, well. You were protective I guess. But that’s just who you are. It doesn’t mean anything.”
“I know you think so,” Dean said. “But everyone else saw it for what it really meant.”
“This doesn’t really answer why-”
“Because,” he interrupted. “I’ve always known I’m not good enough for you, and I didn’t want you to feel obligated to be with me because of the soulmate thing. And when you turned 16 and never said anything to me… I figured you just weren’t interested.”
“Wow,” I said. “I don’t even know where to start. Uh…” I said, sorting through all the things I wanted to say to pick the most important. “Ok. So what you’re telling me is you knew we were soulmates the whole time?”
“Yeah. Do you know how rare it is for soulmates not to match up? Honestly, I kind of think it’s impossible. I think when that happens it’s just people falling in love with someone with the right name, but it’s the wrong person. It never even crossed my mind that your soulmate could be someone else,” he said.
“Then why did you seem so shocked when you saw my tattoo?” I asked pointedly.  
“Oh, right,” Dean said, reminded of how this whole conversation had started. He grabbed the discarded med kit and gestured for me to lift my shirt.
“Dean.” I wasn’t in the mood for him to try avoiding things. We needed to talk about this.
“I’m not ignoring you. I really need to get you fixed up.” I looked at him doubtfully. “I am capable of talking at the same time,” he said.
I looked at him for a few more seconds, weighing the honesty behind the words. I decided he was just as eager to have this discussion as I was. I walked over to stand beside where he was sitting on the bed and lifted my shirt for him. 
“So?” I asked. “Why did you seem surprised?”
Dean gently rubbed his thumb over the letters of his name, his eyes soft and a small smile on his lips. I shivered at the contact. Then he got to work on cleaning and stitching my side.
“I wasn’t surprised, exactly,” he told me as he worked. “Although I suppose it was a bit of a shock, seeing it for the first time. Knowing in your mind that something must be true and actually seeing it are two different things.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I agreed, wincing at the first poke of the needle. At least this conversation was as good of a distraction as I could ask for.
 “And I just figured if we’ve gone this long without ever seeing or talking about our tattoos, you letting me see it now must mean something.”
“It’s kind of hard to hide it right now,” I pointed out.
“You could’ve kept it hidden if you wanted to. It really wouldn’t have been difficult. Which is why I knew you wanted me to see it. And I know you well enough to know you wouldn’t want me to see it if you weren’t interested.”
I asked my next question. “You honestly thought I wasn’t interested in you?”
“After you turned 16 you never treated me any different,” he shrugged. “I figured there must be a reason for that.”
“There was,” I told him through gritted teeth. I really hated getting stitches. “It was because I was already so in love with you that finding out you were my soulmate didn’t really change things for me.”
He paused his work and looked up at me. 
“You’re serious,” he said. “Really? That long?”
“Is that so hard to believe?” I smiled.
He looked away and continued stitching. He was almost done now.
“Why show me now?” He asked.
“Honestly? I was still nervous about it. If I was right about you having a different soulmate, I didn’t want things to be weird between us,” I told him.
“What changed your mind all of a sudden then?”
“What you said. About why you kissed me. It sounded so much like what I would have said if the situations were reversed that for the first time I let myself really consider the possibility that I was your soulmate too.”
I reached out with my right hand and threaded my fingers through his hair. I loved the feel of it. I loved how soft it was and that I was able to touch him like this. 
“I don’t know when it happened. I don’t even know when I realized it. I just know I can’t remember a time that I wasn’t in love with you,” I told him. It felt kind of weird to admit it out loud, but also really nice. There was no point in hiding it now anyway. Might as well get it all out.
Dean finished with my side and I dropped my shirt as he stood up, forcing my other hand to fall from his hair. He was a full head taller than me and we were standing so close that I had to crane my neck to look at him.
“I guess that’s a good thing,” he said, putting a hand on my cheek. “It makes me feel better about the fact that I can’t remember ever not being in love with you.” Then he leaned down and kissed me.
This time I was a lot more prepared. This time I wasn’t so overwhelmed that I couldn’t even enjoy it. This time I felt everything. I felt how soft his lips were. I felt the way they moved with mine. I felt when his hand moved from my cheek to my neck and his other hand found its way to my back. I felt it when he leaned a little closer and deepened the kiss.
I lifted my arms up to wrap around his neck and winced at the slight pain it caused in my left side. I was fully prepared to ignore it, too caught up in the whole experience to care, but Dean noticed and immediately started to pull away.
“It’s fine,” I told him. I used my hands around his neck to keep him close and try to reconnect our lips.
“Jenna,” he warned gently. Our foreheads were pressed together and I could feel his warm breath brush over my face. “If you want me to keep kissing you, you’re going to have to keep that arm down.”
I just tried to catch his lips again.
“I’m serious,” he said. “You being in pain is a pretty big turn off.”
“You worry too much,” I huffed. But I obediently and dramatically removed my left arm from his neck. “Happy?”
“Smartass,” he said fondly. He slowly leaned in again. Very slowly. My heart raced in anticipation. Just before his lips touched mine, he pulled back.
“Dean,” I whined. He smiled and finally kissed me. 
He moved the hand that had been around my neck to join the other at my back. I moved my left arm to his bicep, loving the strength I could feel there. We found a rhythm quickly, our mouths moving in sync. It was so easy to lose myself in him. In his kiss, in his touch, in the warmth of his body. I would gladly stay here forever.
The kiss was starting to get a little more heated, tongues brushing and Dean lightly nipping at my lower lip once, when his phone rang. He pulled back just the slightest bit, our lips nearly touching. He hesitated for a second, deciding whether or not to answer the phone I guessed. He gave me one last, quick kiss before letting go of me and pulling his phone out of his pocket. He flipped it open and briefly glanced at the screen before answering.
“Hey, Bobby,” he greeted.
Disappointed about the interruption and slightly out of breath, I sat on the bed, leaning against the wall and listening to Dean’s side of the conversation. He filled Bobby in on everything that had happened. Well. Not everything. But everything regarding finishing the case.
“Alright, Bobby. Yeah, we’ll stop by next time we’re headed your way,” Dean said before hanging up the phone. He sat beside me on the bed. “Well that was good timing,” he grumbled.
“You didn’t have to answer it,” I pointed out. I decided it was probably a good thing we’d been interrupted anyway. We still had a lot to talk about.
“What if someone was dying?” He asked, half joking, half serious. 
“Then they should have called an ambulance. You’re not exactly a doctor,” I said.
“Hey, I managed to stitch you up just fine.” 
“That wasn’t life or death. You’re good for patching up, but you can’t do everything, Superman.”
“Next time I’ll just let it ring, then.” He held his arm up for me. I accepted the invitation and leaned into his side. His arm settled around me and I let out a content sigh.
“You know it’s been almost a decade since the last time we did this,” I said.
“Did what?” Dean was resting his chin on top of my head. My ear was pressed against his chest and I could feel its slight vibration when he spoke.
“Sat together like this.” I thought back to those days I’d been sick and how much I’d enjoyed being so close to him. Then I remembered what he said about that time during the dumb favorite memory game. “Did you mean what you said? At the hotel?” I turned my face up to look at him.
“Which part?” He asked, looking back at me. I gently elbowed him in the side. He knew what I was asking about.
“Ow!” He protested despite the fact that I definitely hadn’t hurt him. I gave him a look and he chuckled.
“I meant it. I think about it a lot. How good it felt to be able to hold you like that. Like this,” he said, briefly squeezing his arm tighter around me for emphasis. “How right it felt to have you in my arms. It’s the best thing I’ve ever felt. Well,” he smiled mischievously, “it was. I’ve recently come to the conclusion that kissing you is even better.”
“I won’t disagree with that,” I grinned. My neck was getting tired from the angle I was turned at to see Dean, so I looked away and rested my head back against his chest. I reverted back to an old habit, absentmindedly twisting the bracelet on my wrist as I thought through everything.
“What are you thinking?” Dean asked.
 “I’m having a hard time believing this is real. I’m kind of still wrapping my head around that first kiss. Not to mention everything else,” I admitted.
“You know, the way you froze up at the hotel when I kissed you… I thought I might have just made the biggest mistake of my life. I was worried you were pissed at me for crossing that line and that you might want to leave when we finished the hunt,” he told me.
“More like it happened so quickly and took me so much by surprise that my brain stopped working.”
“Freezing up isn’t really a quality you want in a hunting partner. Maybe I should ditch you,” he teased.
“Maybe you should,” I agreed. “But good luck explaining to Bobby how you left me in Idaho to fend for myself. With an injury.”
“Mm, good point. Guess that means I’m stuck with you.”
“Guess so,” I smiled.
We talked for a couple of hours. Up until our stomachs were grumbling and we couldn’t ignore the need for food anymore. We went out to eat and when we got back we curled up together again and stayed up well into the night, mostly talking, but trading a few kisses as well. When I fell asleep that night, I knew I could never be happier than I was at that moment. I finally had everything I’d ever wanted, and it was even better than I could have imagined.
~~~~~
A couple days later we drove out to Bobby’s house. We decided to make a trip out there to see him like Dean had promised before we started looking for a new case. We wanted a few days off to just enjoy our new relationship before we got back into things and we only planned to stay at Bobby’s for the day.
We made it to his house just after noon. The old hunter was happy to see us of course. He hugged us both and then invited us in. 
“I’m afraid I don’t have much around for food. I’ve been meaning to make a run to the store,” he said apologetically.
“No problem,” I said, holding up a grocery bag. “We came prepared.” 
Bobby wasn’t exactly known for having a well stocked fridge. We knew it was possible he wouldn’t have much around, and we didn’t want to drop in without warning and just expect him to feed us.
“Of course you did. I guess I should expect that from you by now, shouldn’t I?” Bobby said to me. 
“C’mon Bobby,” I teased as I headed for the kitchen. “You live in the midwest. You know you can’t just show up to someone’s house at meal time without bringing food.”
“Well, c’mon now,” Bobby said, shooing me out of the way. “You’re the guest and you brought the food. The least I can do is get it ready.”
He unpacked the buns, hamburger, sloppy joe sauce, macaroni salad, and potato chips we’d stopped to buy on our way into town. The three of us chatted while Bobby made the hamburger, just catching up on things since the last time we saw each other. 
Over lunch Dean and I told Bobby about some of the more interesting cases we’d been on recently. Bobby told us about the research he was doing for another hunter and about how some guy named Rufus was harassing him to help him on a hunt.
We finished lunch and were heading out to the porch to enjoy some beers when Bobby’s phone rang. 
“You two go on and I’ll join you when I’m done,” Bobby instructed. 
Dean carried the cooler out and I opened the screen door for him. Bobby had left the main door open to let in some fresh air. It was a beautiful day. The temperature was sitting in the mid 60s, the sun was shining and there was nothing more than a light breeze occasionally drifting through the air. 
Dean and I sat together on the rickety old porch swing, leaving the chair for Bobby. Dean put his arm around my shoulder and I leaned into his side, enjoying the weather and the gentle rocking of the swing.
“Do you remember the summer our dads dropped us off here for a month?” Dean asked after a couple minutes of peaceful quiet.
“Yeah. Sam was obsessed with magic and spent most of his time trying to learn new tricks,” I recalled. “And you basically spent the whole month elbows deep in whatever car you could get your hands on.”
“And you,” he said accusingly, “did not make it easy for me to concentrate.”
“What?” I asked, pulling away from his side so I could look at him. “What did I do?”
“Nothing in particular. You didn’t have to. It was just the way you would sit close by and watch me work while you sang along to the radio. Or I’d look up and see you sitting right here,” he said, patting the swing, “reading a book. It didn’t matter what you were doing. I just remember thinking how beautiful and distracting you were.”
I blushed a little at the words and wondered how long it would take for that to stop.
“And all I really wanted to do,” he said, pressing his forehead to mine. “Was this.”
He leaned in and caught my lips in a sweet kiss. I smiled into it.
“Well it’s about damn time,” Bobby drawled from the doorway. Dean and I jerked apart, startled by his sudden appearance. “A man could grow old and die waiting for you two idjits to get it together,” he said as he opened the screen door and stepped outside. His voice was as gruff as usual, but there was a twinkle in his eye and a small smile on his mouth.
“Wait, you knew?” I asked. My heart was still racing.
“‘Course I did. I don’t think there’s anybody that’s seen the two of you together and doesn’t know.”
I wanted to object, but then I thought back on all the times people had picked up on my feelings for Dean. And how he had apparently experienced the same thing. 
“So I guess we were just the last ones to know,” Dean said a little frustratedly.
“Looks like it,” Bobby smiled. “Congratulations you two. I’m happy for you,” he said.
“Thanks Bobby,” I answered.
He reached into the cooler and pulled out three beers, popping the caps off and handing us each one.
“Here’s to the happy couple,” Bobby said, clinking his bottle against both of ours.
I smiled and took a sip along with the two men.
Here’s to a long and happy life with the man I’m lucky enough to call my soulmate, I thought.
Ages 24 and 25 October 18, 2004
“Do you remember the day we met?” Dean asked one afternoon. We were driving down an empty highway, two hours into a five hour trip.
“Of course,” I answered. I’d been 9 years old. Dean was 11. Dad and John were planning on finishing their hunt that day. They’d already had a little bit of trouble with the police and they wanted us in the same place so they could make a quick getaway when they were done if necessary. “Why do you ask?”
“I’ve just been thinking about it,” he shrugged. Then, after a second he smiled. “You were so nervous.”
“Yeah, well my dad had never just randomly dropped me off with strangers before. I wasn’t sure what was going on,” I defended.
“I remember seeing you just standing there all shy, staring at your feet. And I thought, ‘Who is this girl? Why is Dad leaving her with us? She’s just another person for me to have to protect if something finds us.’”
I felt a mix of pride and sorrow rush through me at this new piece of information. At the insight it gave into the man Dean was, and really, had always been. Even at such a young age, his first thought was about protecting others. 
“But then we played a few rounds of slap jack and I realized how competitive you are. And I figured there must be more to you than the defenseless girl I thought you were.”
I laughed, remembering exactly how that had gone. Dean had started out going easy. I could tell he was trying to make me more comfortable, but I wasn’t having it. If I was going to win the game, it was going to be because I’d actually earned it. So when the next jack was laid down and Dean waited a second before going for it, I waited with him. The second I saw his hand start to move, not quite as fast as he could’ve, I moved too.
As I took the pile of cards I looked up into his wide eyes and smiled. “If you’re just going to let me win, don’t bother playing.”
“Then I saw how sweet you were with Sam,” Dean continued. “And I found out you knew about hunting which is something I could never talk about since Sam didn’t know yet. It was nice to have someone else around who knew.”
He was quiet for a minute, but I could tell he wasn’t done talking yet. I waited for him to sort his thoughts.
“I’ve been trying to figure out when I realized. And I think it was then. The day that I met you, I knew what you were to me,” he said. “Not consciously, of course. But there was a part of me that knew. It’s why I felt so protective of you so quickly. And why I was excited the next time we saw each other. Even though I barely knew you.”
I smiled at him, my heart feeling full enough to burst. 
“I love you,” I told him.
“What?” He asked.
“I love you,” I repeated, amused at the surprise in his voice. Not at the words, but that that had been my reply.
“What makes you say that?”
“What makes you say any of the things you just did?” I answered.
“I don’t know. I was just thinking about it and I wanted you to know,” he said.
“And I just wanted you to know,” I said. “I spent a lot of time not able to say it. Now that I can… well. Why wouldn’t I?”
Dean glanced at me, eyes soft and smile bright. He held his arm out in invitation. I scooted to the middle seat and leaned into his side as he put his arm around my shoulder. 
“Jenna,” he said. I turned my face in his direction and he leaned in for a short kiss. “I love you too.”
Epilogue
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xensmells · 3 months ago
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drawing taking so fucking long a trend started and died a million years ago.. anyway wip for an idea that wasn’t meant to take A MILLION YEARS.
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cherubchoirs · 2 months ago
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who would you rather meet in hell: the devil himself or two bugs
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mipexch · 1 year ago
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comic about v2 and the goal they'll never fully reach alongside a dissatisfying conclusion. intimate rivalry and all (alternative ending comic. V1 dies instead of V2 during 4-4. V2 is narrating. V1 is dead.)
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za-travvy · 8 months ago
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— here to serve?
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hexxingcode · 24 days ago
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i call this one "god damn it jesus christ i was just doing this to wind down from my other comic why did it take like 2 days to finish" and also "therapists don't take style points so i guess this'll do" and also "i cant fucking use the knuckleblaster it makes me mad" and finally: "bowing back to v2 in the first fight is funny so i illustrated it. theres some other stuff in there too i guess."
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blueartistic813 · 2 months ago
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Heyy!! You’re probably one of my favorite utkl artists amazing work,,
Perhaps some V2 with it’s creators? It’s one of my fave things to ponder. Since it wasn’t a war machine, it needed to know how to interact with people. Wonder if they ever let it roam around while developing it. Perhaps they advertised it publically, maybe they’ve rented it out when they couldn’t sell the development of the V2 line.
Overly long rant to say that the red robot and human interactions sound silly.
OUGHHHH This has made my brain just MOVE!!!
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I imagine with V2, that it had some sort of a positive relationship with its creators. They would most likely let it roam around to help it gain an understanding of human interaction as V2 was built with the purpose to make up the costs that were spent building V1, and to be a peace keeper. It would enjoy its time around humans, and even try and seek out others to interact with.
However this is Ultrakill, and I like to imagine when humanity started to disappear, and with blood becoming scarce, V2 would have to take drastic measures in order to survive, and I imagine the same for V1
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hrokkall · 10 months ago
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You were created by humans to protect. They died, so you continued to protect—protect everything they hold dear. You rest in the corners of hell that make mockeries of their holy places and tell yourself that you, you are the last bastion of everything they held dear. You are more than a machine, you fight like man—with honor—as you still bow before the thing that claims to be you. It fights like a dog, and you flee. You can't bring yourself to go back and see what has become of the temple.
You have a new purpose now. If it seeks to destroy, you will give it destruction. You use everything that humanity taught you to create, study the curvatures of their statues to weld together a new arm out of the remains of a sentry you mangled (what a worthless, worthless warmachine—knowing nothing but itself) resembling their own. You settle, once again, in a faux temple—this one of golden stone—and you wait.
It arrives. Of course it does. And you rend it apart. Piece by bloody piece. You take apart everything that you hate, hate, hate. It takes until your chest is dented in for the red haze in your vision to clear, to realize the scrap lining the floor is your own.
So you flee. Not in cowardice—you are not human enough for cowardice, you have always known this—but for the most mechanical thought of self-preservation. You flee and it follows, and some sinking feeling knows that the only thing the two of you feel is hunger.
You were never human, nor did you truly seek to protect anything but yourself. You will never know peace, for you were nothing more than a leftover of war.
It hardly matters. You were created by humans to die—and you die like the machine you are.
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chittychittyyangyang · 2 years ago
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Weiss, the ultimate Beekeeper 🐝💙
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batmecha · 7 months ago
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I have a small request, if you don't mind
can tiny V2 get a friend? florp, or V1 maybe?
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ofc! they can have both as friends
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sparklecarehospital · 23 days ago
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Also we picked out a release date. It is sooner than you guys think
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spnhunter4life · 2 years ago
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So Long Version 2 Chapter 4
Word Count: 6.5k
A/N: I had a lot of fun writing this one. Sweet, protective Dean is the best.
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Ages 16 and 17 December 3, 1996
I groggily opened my eyes, trying to determine what had woken me up and then realized it was the pounding on the adjoining door. 
“Jenna?” I heard Sam call. “We were supposed to leave five minutes ago. Are you coming?”
Right. School. Well there’s no way I was going while I was feeling like this. My nose was so stuffed up I couldn’t breathe, my whole body ached, and I was so cold I actually wondered if the door had been left open to the winter air all night.
“I’m not coming today,” I said as loudly as I could manage. My head was pounding, and raising my voice would only make it worse.
“What?” Sam asked, opening the door and peeking his head in.
“I’m not going to school today,” I repeated. 
“Are you ok?” He asked, brow wrinkling in concern. 
“I think I caught that flu that’s been going around,” I told him miserably.
“That sucks,” he said sympathetically. “Do you need anything before we go?”
“No, I’ll be fine. Thanks, Sam.” He left the room and I curled up in a ball under the covers, trying to warm up.
I thought that would be the end of it, but about a minute later Dean was walking into the room.
“Sam says you’re sick,” he said, clearly already in full caretaker mode. 
“Go to school Dean. I can manage by myself for a few hours,” I told him as firmly as I could. 
“I don’t mind staying here for a day to take care of you,” he told me, walking over to sit on the edge of my bed.
“I know you don’t, but you really don’t need to. Besides, you have to take Sam anyway, so you might as well just stay there,” I said, trying to reason with him. He looked unconvinced, but nodded in agreement anyway.
“If you’re sure. Do you want me to at least call your dad?” He asked. We’d been here for about a month and a half so far. John and Dad had been able to continually find hunts close by, so instead of moving to a new school again, we were staying put. They were currently a few towns away and wouldn’t be back for at least another week. “I really don’t like leaving you alone.”
“No, don’t. If you call him he’s going to think it’s worse than it is and he’ll either be distracted during the hunt or he’ll come back here, which really isn’t necessary.”
Dean stood up and walked to the door, pausing with his hand on the handle. 
“Promise you’ll call me if you need anything,” he insisted, patting his pocket where he kept the cell phone his dad had left us for emergencies.
“I promise.”
~~~~~
When the boys got home from school that afternoon, they immediately came to my room.
“How are you feeling?” Dean asked as he and Sam walked over to me. I was nestled into the couch, doing my best to stay warm under a throw blanket, some movie I wasn’t paying attention to playing on TV.
“Cold,” I replied. I had already put on a second pair of socks that morning in my attempt to warm up and when that hadn’t helped I’d gone into the boys’ room and stolen one of Dean’s oversized sweatshirts. That plus my pair of sweatpants and the blanket and I still felt like my teeth could start chattering any second.
“Here,” Sam said as he grabbed the comforter off of my bed and placed it on top of me. 
“Did you eat anything today?” Dean asked. 
“Not hungry,” I told him. 
“You can’t just not eat,” Sam said as he walked over to the kitchen. “I’ll make you a piece of toast.”
“Have you had anything to drink today,” Dean asked, continuing his evaluation. I sheepishly shook my head.
“Jenna,” he sighed. “If you want me to leave you here alone when you’re sick, you have to do a better job of taking care of yourself. Sam, get her a big glass of water too,” he instructed.
He gently placed the back of his hand against my forehead, checking for a fever. 
“And some Ibuprofen,” he added. “So you’re cold and not hungry. Any other symptoms?” He asked me.
“My nose is stuffed,” I told him.
“I can tell,” he said with a small smile.
“And everything hurts,” I admitted.
“Well the Ibuprofen should help with that at least,” he said as Sam came back over
“Here you go,” he said as he handed everything over. I sat up to take everything from him.
“Is that my sweatshirt?” Dean smiled as the blanket fell off my shoulders.
“I told you, I’m cold,” I defended, taking a small nibble of my toast.
“I’m not mad,” he assured me. “I think it’s cute.” I blushed. “I want that whole glass of water gone in the next 15 minutes,” he told me sternly. “And then I’m getting you another one that better be gone by supper.”
I managed to eat the whole piece of toast and finished the glass of water as instructed. I curled back under the blanket while Dean left to refill my water. Sam was sitting at the kitchen table, books spread out before him.
“Are you warming up yet?” Dean asked when he returned with more water. 
When I shook my head in answer, he sat beside me, settling himself under the blankets and as close to my side as he could.
“Dean, I don’t want to get you sick,” I protested.
“If I’m gonna get sick, I’m gonna get sick. I’m already surrounded by your germs, I don’t see this making much difference,” he told me.
Sighing, I moved to rest my head on his shoulder. It took about 10 minutes for me to finally start warming up for the first time that day.
~~~~~
The next day was much the same. The boys had slept in my room last night, despite my protests that I would be fine on my own. Dean slept in my dad’s unused bed and Sam slept in mine, bringing in the comforter from his own bed. I stayed on the couch. I had tossed and turned all night and was exhausted. 
Dean asked if I wanted him to stay home from school to take care of me. I told him not to. This time he brought me a large glass of water before leaving and told me I’d better keep myself hydrated today.
I took a bath around 1, hoping the warm water would soothe my aching muscles and warm me up. After soaking for about 20 minutes, the heat finally seemed to seep into my body and ease the chill I couldn’t escape.
I was feeling a little better when I got out an hour later, the warmth being a much needed boost to my mental state, but I still ached all over. After getting redressed in my warm clothes, I took a couple of Ibuprofen and tried to sleep before the chills came back.
The rumble of the Impala’s engine is what caused me to give up on my fitful attempt at a nap. I was shivering under the blankets and hadn’t managed more than 20 minutes of sleep.
The boys came in and fussed over me. They were both pleased to hear I’d drank some water today, but I still hadn’t eaten anything. Sam made me another piece of toast and grabbed a container of yogurt for me to eat too.
Dean curled up with me under the blankets again and I sighed, grateful for his warmth. His body heat radiated off of him directly into my side where we were pressed together and the blanket kept the heat trapped.
If I hadn’t been feeling so terrible I might have shied away from this level of closeness. We were very comfortable with physical contact, but this was more than the casual touches I was used to. The closest we had ever come to cuddling in the past was Dean’s arm slung across the back of the couch behind my head when we watched movies. And he wasn’t actually touching me when he did that. 
The realization of how close we were was something I wouldn’t process until later when I was feeling better, but for now I just appreciated the comfort he so easily provided me.
~~~~~
“Where’s Dean?” I asked on the third day, spotting Sam sitting at the table reading a book. 
Dean had skipped school today. No matter how much I protested, even when I told him I was feeling a little better, he told me he refused to leave me by myself again. He dropped Sam off and came straight back to the motel. He’d kept me company all day and made sure I drank plenty of water. I was even starting to get my appetite back a little bit. I’d managed to eat half a peanut butter sandwich and a few crackers.
I’d fallen asleep shortly before he left to pick Sam up. I halfway sat up in the spot on the couch that had become my semi-permanent residence – a place I left only when my bladder made it absolutely necessary – and looked around the room.
“He went to the store,” Sam told me. “He should be back any minute. Are you feeling any better?” he asked.
"If you wanted to put some poison in my water or something I wouldn't complain," I told him. This might be a bit dramatic, but honestly, if this was going to be the state of my life from now on, then life really wasn't worth living. 
“Can’t help you there. I just used the last of my poison last week on my friend Ethan. He had the flu too,” he told me seriously. “Besides,” he continued, switching to a teasing tone, “I don’t have a death wish. Can you imagine what Dean would do to me if he came back and found you dead?”
“I don’t know what to tell you Sam. I guess you need to do a better job of covering your tracks,” I told him. He smiled.
“Seriously though, how are you doing?” He asked again. 
I sighed and sat up the rest of the way, noticing the comforter was back on me. I’d started taking it off when Dean was sitting with me, partly so he wasn’t quite so overheated and partly because the throw blanket was enough when combined with his furnace-like body temperature. He must have covered me back up when he left to get Sam.
“I’m doing better,” I told him. “I still can’t seem to keep myself warm, but the migraine and muscle aches are a lot better. My appetite is starting to come back too.”
“Yeah, Dean said you actually ate something today. That’s good. Hopefully you’ll be better tomorrow,” he said.
“Hopefully,” I agreed as we heard the Impala pull up. 
A minute later Dean came in the door, hands full with grocery bags, immediately looking towards the couch.
“Hey, you’re up!” he said cheerfully. “How’d you sleep?”
“Pretty good, actually,” I told him, looking at the clock and realizing I’d slept soundly for about an hour and half.
“I’m glad to hear it. You definitely need to catch up on your sleep,” he said as he unpacked the groceries. “I hope you’re still hungry. I got stuff to make chicken noodle soup,” he told me.
That did actually sound really good. I told him as much.
“Good. I’ll get it started,” he said, grabbing a big pot from the cupboard above the stove. “I got some more Ibuprofen too if you need some,” he told me offhandedly. “I noticed we were about out.”
“I’m good. Thanks, though,” I said, not for the first time grateful for his thoughtfulness and attention to detail when it came to taking care of people.
“Do you want some help?” Sam offered his brother, already getting up from the table.
“Nah, I’m good. I’m sure Jenna wouldn’t mind you sitting with her and keeping her warm until I’m done though,” Dean said, looking at me for confirmation.
“Actually, I was just thinking about taking a shower,” I told them as I tossed the blankets onto the couch beside me. I hadn’t showered in three days and I was starting to feel really gross.
“Aww, you hear that Sammy? She doesn’t want to sit with you,” Dean teased.
“You know that’s not it,” I told Sam as I looked to make sure he wasn’t offended.
“I know,” he assured me, waving off his brother’s joke.
I was already getting cold without the blankets, so I hurried off to the bathroom, leaving Sam to his book and Dean to his soup preparation. Closing the door behind me, I immediately turned the water on, setting it to a nice warm temperature, before undressing and stepping in. I let out a content sigh as the hot water hit me.
As I was working on combing the tangles out of my hair, I realized that in my rush to get in the shower, I hadn’t brought any clean clothes with me. Crap. Now what? I considered my options. 
I could put on the clothes I’d been wearing for the last three days. I quickly discarded that idea. Though I’d been cold, I’d still been sweating. I wasn’t putting those clothes back on. It would completely defeat the purpose of showering.
I could walk out into the room in my towel to grab my duffel bag. I didn’t like that option much more than the first. While I would be completely covered, something about them seeing me in nothing but a towel, Dean especially, felt extremely… intimate. It wasn’t something I was comfortable with.
I heard a muffled conversation through the bathroom door as I tried to figure out a third option. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but I could hear them talking. I could hear Sam saying something in an exasperated voice when it occurred to me.
“Sam?” I called as I rinsed the conditioner from my hair.
“Yeah?” he called back, sounding like he was standing just outside the door.
“I forgot to grab my bag. Could you get it for me?” I asked.
“Yeah, no problem,” he told me before his footsteps retreated. I heard more muffled conversation, a door opening and then closing a few seconds later, and finally a knock on the door.
“Here you go,” Sam said as he opened the door and I heard the thump of my bag being set down.
“Thanks, Sam.”
“No problem,” he repeated. The door closed. I stayed in the shower for a few more minutes, appreciating the hot water, before steeling myself to get out into the cold. 
I pulled the curtain back, grabbed my towel, and started drying my hair. Once it was no longer dripping, I moved to my duffel bag to find some clothes. I felt a rush of warmth in my chest at the sweatshirt that was laying on top of it. Another one of Dean’s.
Once I was dressed, I spent a few minutes blow drying my hair. I normally didn’t bother, but I didn’t need water dripping down my back for the next hour when I was already cold. I stepped out of the bathroom and saw that the brothers had been busy. 
Dean had finished putting the soup together and it was currently sitting on the stove to cook. The blankets I had been using for the past three days were in the corner designated for dirty laundry, and new ones – presumably out of the boys’ currently unused room – were waiting for me on the couch.
Sam and Dean were sitting on either end of the couch, The Untouchables on the TV screen, paused at the beginning. It was one of four movies we had, so we’d seen it a lot, but it was one of Dean’s favorites. Sam and I weren’t tired of it yet either.
Dean patted the spot next to him, and I sat down, curling into his side as he wrapped a blanket around me.
“Feeling better?” He asked.
“Much,” I sighed. “It feels so good to be clean. Thanks for the sweatshirt,” I added as an afterthought.
“You’re welcome,” Sam and Dean responded at the same time, looking at each other in surprise.
“It’s my sweatshirt,” Dean told Sam.
“Yeah, but I’m the one who grabbed it for her,” Sam argued.
“Because I told you to,” Dean countered.
“This is a ridiculous argument,” I said, lightly hitting Dean’s chest and nudging Sam with my foot. “I was thanking both of you anyway, so can we just watch the movie?” Sam scowled, but agreed and pressed play. 
~~~~~
We were about three quarters of the way through the movie, soup eaten and bowls dumped in the sink, when there was a knock at the door.
We all looked at each other, confused and a little on edge. Dean’s arm tensed around me and Sam started walking to the bed, going for the knife Dean hid under his pillow.
“Jenna?” The person outside called.
I immediately relaxed. It was just Bailey.
“Let her in,” I told Sam who had paused a foot from the bed. He obeyed, looking through the peephole before opening the door.
Bailey was standing there, as expected, as well as Dylan. The three of us had become pretty close in my time here. I always had friends wherever we went, but I didn’t usually connect with people the way I had with them. They were definitely the best friends I’d made at any school, and we spent a lot of time together outside of class.
“Hey guys,” I greeted as they made their way into the room, stopping a few feet away from the couch. “What are you doing here?”
“Well you haven’t been in school for three days, so we wanted to check on you,” Dylan explained.
“Yeah. I mean at first we just assumed you were sick. But after three days we started to worry,” Bailey added.
“Three days isn’t an unusual amount of time to be sick,” I pointed out.
“No, but then Dean was gone today too,” Bailey said, a smug little glint in her eye as she looked at me. “So we wondered if maybe you guys had left town.”
“Nope. Still here,” I said unnecessarily.
“Good,” Dylan said, slinging a bag off his shoulders and moving to sit in the armchair. “Because we brought homework.”
“And that’s my cue to leave,” Dean said, standing up and throwing the second blanket over me before making his way to his own room. “Come on Sam,” he called over his shoulder. Sam sighed, but followed Dean out.
“Thanks,” I told them, genuinely thankful they’d thought to get my homework for me, but also not looking forward to having to do it. Bailey grabbed a chair from the table and set it next to the couch.
“So,” Dylan said casually as he took everything out of his bag. “Anything you want to tell us?” He asked teasingly.
“Um… no?” I said, confused.
“Are you sure?” Bailey continued for him. “No new developments you want to share?”
They both looked at me expectantly. I quickly scanned the room, looking for anything that might stand out to them. Not seeing anything, I just slowly shook my head. 
“No, nothing. Why? Is there something new with you guys?” I asked, thinking maybe this was their way of segueing into giving me some type of exciting news. They just looked at each other and rolled their eyes.
“I can’t tell if you’re just stubbornly ignoring it, or genuinely oblivious to what we’re saying,” Dylan told me.
“And if that’s the case, it really makes me question if you’ve been telling us the truth,” Bailey said.
“The truth about what?” I asked, starting to get frustrated.
“You and Dean looked awfully cozy,” Bailey stated, not beating around the bush anymore.
I blushed. Oh, right. That. I thought.
“It’s not what it looks like,” I told them, not wanting them to make too many assumptions. They knew very well how I felt about Dean.
“Well how about you let me tell you what it looks like, and then you can tell me if it’s right or not?” Bailey said. She didn’t wait for my answer before continuing. “It looks like you’ve been sick for a few days. When Dean didn’t show up to school today, it looked like he might have gotten sick too, if you guys hadn’t just up and left. Now that we’ve seen him, I think we’re in agreement that he’s not sick?” Bailey looked to Dylan for confirmation.
“He didn’t look sick,” Dylan agreed.
“So, it looks like Dean stayed here to take care of you. Now the way the two of you were cuddled up together,” she mused, smirking at me. “That looked like two people who were very comfortable with each other. In a more than friends way. Which looks like either you haven’t been entirely truthful about the status of your relationship with him or there have been new developments. Am I missing anything?” She asked Dylan.
“No, that about covers it I think,” Dylan said.
“I know exactly how it looks,” I started.
“Of course you do because we just told you,” Dylan cut in. “So which is it?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Were you not telling us the truth before about you two – which I don’t find likely, by the way – or has something new happened?” He asked. I could tell they were both excited for me. They had spent plenty of time talking with me about Dean, and they knew how crazy I was about him. 
“Neither,” I told them, seeing immediately that they were unconvinced. “Seriously,” I insisted. “Dean is a total mother hen, especially when one of us gets sick,” I explained. “If you don’t believe me, there’s a pot of homemade soup in the fridge. Dean never cooks. None of the guys do.” 
“That doesn’t explain why you were practically in his lap,” Bailey fired back.
“Okay, first of all, that’s a huge exaggeration,” I said. Bailey snorted. “It is! We were sitting next to each other, that’s not ‘in his lap.’ Dylan, back me up here!” I pleaded.
“Well…” he looked between us, considering his answer carefully. “I do think that was a bit of an exaggeration,” he said.
“Ha!” I shot at Bailey.
“But,” he continued, “you were pretty snuggled up with him. More than you realize, I think.”
“Ha!” Bailey shot back.
“Whatever,” I conceded. “It’s still not what you think. I’ve just been really cold. As you might notice,” I pointedly waved the corner of the blanket. “He’s just been sitting with me to help me stay warm.” 
“You still looked awfully comfortable with each other,” Bailey said, not ready to entirely give up.
“Because we are,” I said exasperatedly. “I told you about how we constantly travel and our dads aren’t around much. The three of us are pretty much all we have. People in that sort of situation tend to be pretty close.”
“I guess,” Bailey sighed.
“So do you guys cuddle like that a lot?” Dylan asked, moving on, but not entirely changing the subject. I blushed again.
“No,” I told him without elaborating.
“Honestly?” he pressed. “You know you can tell us. We won’t judge. Plus, I’d say that would be a good sign-”
“Really. This is the first time we’ve ever… cuddled.” I told him, not wanting to hear another speech listing all the reasons the two of them were certain Dean liked me back. Despite their intentions, it really wasn’t helpful. It could really only mean one of two things.
One, they were reading into things. They were wrong and he didn’t like me back. Or two, they were right. He did like me. But it didn’t matter because he clearly had no intentions of doing anything about it. I didn’t know which was worse.
“So,” Bailey cut in, breaking the growing tension. “Tell us all about mother hen Dean.”
I smiled and told them about how I’d spent the last few days. They updated me on the goings on at school and then gave me a quick rundown of the homework, telling me to let them know if I got stuck on anything. I thanked them and we said our goodbyes. 
Either through eavesdropping – I sincerely hoped that wasn’t the case – or, the more likely option, watching out the window, Sam and Dean knew when my friends left and immediately came back into the room.
“You want to finish the movie?” Dean asked as he moved a pile of papers onto the coffee table. Sam settled himself back on his end of the couch and Dean pulled me back into his side.
“Yeah, sounds good,” I said, resting my head on his chest. I was much more aware of our position after Bailey and Dylan’s visit, but I decided to enjoy the closeness while it lasted. 
When the movie was over, Sam went to the kitchen to grab some snacks while Dean flipped through the channels on TV. Sam came back with beef jerky, Doritos, microwavable popcorn and a bottle of water for me. I wasn’t hungry, but accepted the water. 
Dean stopped on a channel playing some old western movie. As he settled his arm around me, I decided that I would happily spend every night like this.
Ages 16 and 17 December 11, 1996
"Oh good, you're back." I called to my dad when I heard the door to our room close behind me. "I was just leaving you a note," I told him, dropping the pen I'd been using and turning to face him. "Oh. Dean. I thought you were my dad."
"So I gathered," he said, looking over my outfit. "You look nice," he said. "Why do you look nice?" He continued before I could thank him for the compliment. 
"Uh… I'm going out with some friends. What's up?" I asked, a little distracted as I finished the note for Dad.
"Well I just came to see if you wanted to do something tonight. I guess not though. What friends exactly?" He questioned, sitting on the table next to where I was writing.
“The usual ones,” I told him, finishing the note and moving to the bathroom to double check my hair.
“Try again,” Dean said as he followed me.
“I’m sorry?” I asked, looking at his reflection in the mirror.
“You’re not going out with friends dressed like that,” he said.
I looked at my outfit in the mirror. I didn’t see anything objectionable about the tan sweater and black leggings combo.
“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” I asked. 
“Nothing. I already told you, you look nice. I’m just saying that’s not what you usually wear to hang out with friends,” he said pointedly.
“And I can’t try something new?” I snapped. I left the bathroom, pushing past where he stood in the doorway and grabbed my coat off my bed.
“Why are you getting so defensive?” Dean asked.
“Why are you suddenly so worried about who I hang out with?” I shot back. 
“I’m not worried about it. But it’s a date, right? I just don’t understand why you couldn’t just tell me that. Why lie about it?” he wondered.
I sighed. I felt bad about snapping at him. I didn’t mean to, I was just feeling really anxious about tonight. Dean wasn’t entirely right about the date thing, but he wasn’t entirely wrong either. I was following Bailey’s advice. She’d told me to either get it over with and make a move with Dean or move on. 
So, I was moving on. Or pretending to. I was making an effort at least. 
“It wasn’t a lie,” I told him. “I am going out with Bailey and Dylan.” I peeked out the window to see if they were here yet.
“So… it’s not a date,” he said, somewhere between a statement and a question. “It’s just you going out with a couple of friends?”
“Not exactly,” I said, going to sit on my bed while I waited.
“Then what is it, Jenna?” He asked as he came to sit beside me. “This is a yes or no question. Why can’t you just give me a straight answer?”
“It’s… a double date, I guess,” I told him.
“Ok,” he said calmly. “And Dylan is your date?” he asked.
“What?” I asked, surprised. “No. Dylan and Bailey are dating.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize that,” he said. “So who’s your date?”
I couldn’t decide how I felt about this conversation. While I was comfortable talking to Dean about anything, boys was a topic we’d never covered before. Mostly because there’d been no reason to. There had never been any boys I was interested in and wanted to talk about. Never in more than a friend way at least. 
Dean was being very casual about it. More than I expected. I wasn’t entirely sure how I felt about that, but I was thinking I didn’t like it. I wouldn’t have minded him being the slightest bit upset about it. I had been expecting it, really. He was usually so protective. 
“His name is Jake,” I answered.
Dean pursed his lips, thinking for a minute before responding.
“Can I ask you something and have you promise not to get mad at me? Because I’m not trying to be a jerk, I just really want to know,” he said.
“Okay,” I agreed a little warily. I had no idea where he might be going with this.
“Do you even like this guy?” he asked. “Because you don’t seem very excited.” 
“Well… to be honest, I’m not really,” I admitted.
“Then why are you going?” he asked. I sighed.
“Because the problem is that I don’t really know him. And isn’t that the point of a date? To get to know someone?” I pointed out.
“I guess so,” Dean agreed. “But usually people go out with someone they’re interested in.”
“I told you I don’t really know him. How could I know if I’m interested yet?” 
“You don’t have to know someone to know you’re interested. Haven’t you ever met someone and known right away you wanted to get to know them better? Because you found them attractive or because even from a short conversation you could tell you would get along?” He asked.
“No. Not really,” I said.
“Never?” he asked disbelievingly.
“No,” I repeated. “I’ve just never really been interested in anyone.”
“Oh,” was all Dean said in response. I couldn’t quite read the tone of this voice or the expression on his face.
Feeling a little awkward, I stood up and walked over to check out the window again. They still weren’t here.
“You know you don’t have to go if you don’t want to,” Dean said from where he was still sitting on the bed.
“Yes I do. They’re on their way to pick me up right now. Too late to back out. Besides,” I told him as I went to sit beside him again. “I always like hanging out with Bailey and Dylan. And they like Jake and think we’ll get along. I trust them. I’m sure it’ll be fun.”
“Then why do you look like you’re dreading it?” Dean asked.
“I’m not dreading it,” I told him. “Really, I’m not.” I insisted when he just gave me a look. “I’m just… nervous I guess. Regardless of whether I like him or not, it’s always weird for me to spend time with someone I don’t really know. So I guess I’m just anxious about that.”
“In that case, I hope you have fun,” he said with a small smile. He sounded sincere, but it also seemed a little forced. 
Before I could think very long on what that meant, there was a honk from right outside the door.
“There’s some leftover stroganoff in the fridge you can have if you want it. Just make sure to leave enough for my dad,” I told Dean as I grabbed my purse and slipped on my coat. “See you later,” I said as I opened the door.
“See you later,” I heard him echo as the door closed behind me.
~~~~~
“See, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Bailey teased. We had just dropped Jake off at his house and were headed to the motel now. 
“I never said it would be bad,” I replied.
“Maybe not in so many words. But I could tell you weren’t happy about it,” she said.
“Look,” I sighed. “I understand what you’re saying. About moving on. But it’s not that easy,” I told her.
“It’s not easy to move on from the person you’ve been into for half your life?” Dylan asked with a smirk, looking at me in the rearview mirror. I frowned at him.
Bailey turned in her seat to look at me. 
“Obviously you’re not going to get over it overnight. We wouldn’t expect that. And to be completely honest…” she trailed off, looking to Dylan. He thought about it for a second before nodding at her to continue.
“We don’t really expect you to get over him at all,” she said.
“Then what was the point of tonight?” I asked, frustrated. I’d had fun and Jake was a nice enough guy, but I definitely wasn’t interested in anything more than friendship with him. All they had really accomplished tonight was making the next few days at school awkward every time I ran into Jake if he didn’t feel the same way I did. And I honestly couldn’t tell what he thought.
“You said you’d never been on a date before, right?” Bailey asked.
“Right…” I said, dragging out the word, confused about where this was going.
“We just thought it might make Dean jealous. Or at least make him realize if he didn’t make a move, someone else eventually would,” she explained.
“So what you’re saying is you lied to me. But it was to help me?” I questioned.
“Yeah. Well that’s the hope anyway,” Bailey said. 
“What about Jake?” I asked, a little annoyed. I could have told them this plan wouldn’t work and saved everyone the trouble. I did appreciate that they were trying though. “Did he know it wasn’t a real date?”
“He didn’t think it was a date at all,” Dylan replied. “We just told him we were planning on hanging out and asked him to join.”
“Thanks guys. I know you meant well, but I wish you would have just told me. This isn’t going to change anything with Dean,” I told them.
“Why don’t you wait until you get back to decide that. See how he reacts first,” Bailey said.
“I don’t need to. You realize Dean goes on a lot of dates with a lot of girls, right?” I asked.
“So you’ve said,” Bailey sighed. “That doesn’t prove anything.”
“Well he’s never shown any interest in me. Not like that anyway,” I said.
“Yeah, but I don’t think you’d actually notice if he did,” Dylan countered.
“Look,” I said tiredly. “I know you want to help. But you’ve got to just let it go. Every day I work on keeping my emotions under control. I’m constantly reminding myself not to read into things and not to get my hopes up. It’s hard enough as it is. Having you two always telling me how you think he likes me… well it gets my hopes up despite my best efforts. And letting yourself hope is how you get hurt when things don’t go the way you want. So can you please just leave it alone?” 
“We didn’t mean to make things harder or overstep,” Dylan said. “You just talk about him so much, we wanted to–”
“To help, I know,” I cut in. “I appreciate it. And as for talking about him… well there’s not much in my life worth talking about, so I guess he just comes up a lot. I’ll try to stop though.”
“No, you don’t have to stop,” Bailey insisted. 
“I should though. It’s not helping things either,” I said.
“Neither is keeping your feelings bottled up. We’ll back off. I promise. But only if you keep talking about him when you want to. The way you always have with us,” she bargained.
“Deal,” I agreed with a smile. It would be really hard having to leave this town. I’d never had such great friends.
“But just out of curiosity,” she continued as Dylan pulled up to the motel and parked. “On Monday will you let us know how he reacts tonight?” she asked.
“He came over before you guys picked me up. We talked about it a little. He just said to have fun,” I told them.
They frowned a little at this, clearly not happy that there hadn’t been more of a reaction. They didn’t say anything more about it though.
“I guess we’ll see you Monday,” Dylan said as I got out of the car.
“Yeah. Thanks for driving,” I said. I closed the car door and waved as they backed out of the parking lot before unlocking the door and stepping inside.
Dad was sitting at the table, writing in his case journal. 
“Hey kiddo,” he greeted, looking up from the book. “How was your night?”
“It was good,” I told him. “When did you get back?”
“About an hour ago,” he answered.
“Did you get something to eat?” I asked as I made my way to the bathroom to shower. That’s when I noticed Dean. He was sprawled out on the couch, looking at me over the back of it. There was an episode of Scooby Doo playing on low volume.
“Yeah, I did,” Dad answered before going back to writing.
“Hey,” Dean said when I stopped beside him. “How’d it go?”
“It was fine. We just got something to eat and then went bowling. Nothing too exciting,” I told him.
“Did you have fun?” He asked. I wondered if I detected something under his casual tone, but I couldn’t tell for sure so I just ignored it.
“Yeah, I guess so. I don’t think I’ll be going on any more dates with Jake though,” I answered.
“Why not? Did he do something?” 
“No, of course not. We just didn’t really hit it off,” I said.
“That’s… too bad?” He questioned. I smiled.
“Not really. What are you doing here, by the way?” I asked as I grabbed my bag.
“Sam was hogging the TV so I just figured I’d hang out here for the night. I assume that’s ok with you?” Dean asked teasingly.
“Of course. As long as you don’t mind sharing when I’m done showering,” I said.
“I think I can manage that,” he smiled. I showered quickly and then Dean and I watched Scooby Doo reruns until we were too tired to stay up any longer.
Chapter 5
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fernsensei · 1 year ago
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reminding myself how 2 draw ultramurder characters and how to have fun while doing it
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mothcpu · 2 years ago
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laundry day
V2isDead.com
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mipexch · 7 months ago
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fell in love (at the water)
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leeayzonn · 10 months ago
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everyone talks about v2 being a protector and a guardian for humans before humanitys extinction, but i don’t think that that’s backed up by the games lore. based on the terminal data, V2 was developed during the New Peace, yes, but it doesnt say anything about any sort of protection. the first line of the data says ‘The V model was built for war’ which includes V2. the only update stated between v1 and v2 is the more durable plating. the data says that v2 was never produced because there was no demand due to the end of wars.
though, we can only hypothesize what the v models were doing during the New Peace. i guess the terminals don’t really make it clear either. v2s second terminal data says that v1 is ‘more experienced’ but how did it get this experience if it was only a prototype and never saw war? the first data says ‘during times of peace, when no bloodshed was necessary.’ If no bloodshed was necessary, why do you need a robot with guns?
all im saying is i don’t think v2 was any sort of guardian. it either sat wherever v1 was during the New Peace because it never sold, or v2 was more like a cop and the New Peace was not as peaceful as the game wants us to believe
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