Highway to Hell: Episode Four: Series Finale: "Fallen Angel"
Episode 4 : Fallen Angel
Chapter 2: Owner of a Broken Heart
Chapter Wordcount: 2839
When they pulled into the motel’s parking lot Sam got out of the Impala first. Monte stayed in her car for a second before reluctantly following.
She couldn’t remember ever being this scared, except when it came to finding Kevin in that cave. She almost laughed, werewolves, spirits, cults…she could handle those, walking through that door? She wasn’t so sure.
“Monte?”
She sighed and looked at Sam, realizing she had been staring at the door.
“You wanna wait?”
“For what? The apocalypse? Waiting’s not gonna solve anything.”
Sam bit his lip in a half smirk.
She followed Sam up to the door; glancing down the side of the building, if for some unforeseeable reason she had to run she wanted to know what her options were.
Sam swiped the key card and pushed the door open.
Monte caught her first glance of the man that had haunted her thoughts and instantly her heart was in her throat and try as she might she couldn’t draw a breath.
Dean was standing at the foot of one of the beds, leaning against it and folding his clothes.
Even in the cheap crappy light the motel provided Monte could plainly see the purple and sickly yellow bruises that covered his face and no doubt other parts of his body, as well as what looked like a nasty gash that trailed down his chiseled cheek, the skin pulled tight against the line.
“My god what have you done?” she whispered.
Dean stopped dead, holding on to a pair of worn blue jeans with a white knuckled grip. There was no way in hell he had just heard that voice, please god tell him he did not just hear that voice.
Just the whisky…just the tequila…just the rum…please god not the real thing.
He turned slowly, even that much movement making his vision swirl dangerously.
Sam stood in the doorway silently, not even in the room yet. “I’ll be outside,” he whispered over Monte’s shoulder.
She turned her head barely to acknowledge, but never tore her gaze from Dean’s swimming eyes.
She didn’t break his gaze until she heard the door click shut behind her.
Nothing in the motel seemed out of place…it looked like any of the other dives they had stayed in…save the half dozen half drunken liquor bottles that were strewn over the bedside table.
Her eyes slowly made their way back to his, his own gaze returning from the table. Despite the fog in his mind he knew she had drawn the correct conclusion from the evidence.
“What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“This is my room.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
His nostrils flared and she saw the muscles in his jaw ripple underneath the skin of his cheek, the healed over gash tightening even more.
“None of your business.”
She was so not doing this crap with him. Their damned pride and stubbornness is what had gotten them in this situation in the first place, name-calling and tempers had caused this.
“Sam told me.”
So let’s try reason this time.
Dean stopped breathing.
“He told me about the dream…the premonition. And he told me about your Dad calling.”
Suddenly his vision blurred, but he would never admit that it had nothing to do with his inebriation.
She could tell he wasn’t going to say anything, but she eyed his cheek cautiously, half waiting for the gash to reopen and blood to run down his face because of the way he kept working his jaw.
“Why didn’t you talk to me?” she whispered.
The silence was deafening.
After what seemed like hours, but in actuality was only seconds, he finally answered, dropping his head before he did.
“I don’t know.”
If it hadn’t been so eerily quiet she would never have heard him.
“Dean…” she choked, saying his name alone sparking too much emotion.
“I should have…I know…I just…I don’t know…I wasn’t thinking.”
She finally, hesitantly took a few steps toward him.
“I’m not saying what you did was okay, and I’m in no way saying I’m over it…but I know why you did,” she paused. “But did you seriously think you were protecting me?”
“If you’re not there then it can’t happen,” he whispered in a broken voice. A voice she had no desire to ever hear come from those lips again.
“Dean…you and Sam…you’re all I’ve got…by pushing me away like that…you would have killed me,” she took a deep breath, “maybe even by my own hand.”
His impossibly deep hazel eyes locked on hers with alarm.
“Dean…I mean it, you are my home. Without you I have nowhere to go…honestly, I don’t know what I would have done…or how long I would’ve lasted…maybe I’d pull some Thelma and Louise stunt and drive off into a canyon. But mark my words Winchester, I wouldn’t have survived long without you.”
Guilt slammed into him like a freight train. Thanks to his damn guns blazing shoot first ask question later attitude he had almost lost one of the most important things in his life…in more ways than one.
“Monte…”
*Goo Goo Dolls’ “Iris” playing in the background*
“What are you doing Dean?” she whispered, running her fingers lightly over the bruised flesh on his face, his right eye slightly puffy.
Her touch alone sparked tingles where her fingertips were and a shiver ghosted down his spine.
“I just wanted it to go away.”
God he sounded so broken.
He is broken, she thought, biting back a sob that threatened to erupt.
“What?” she whispered.
“The pain…I just wanted it to go away.”
His gaze flicked to the bottles on the table ever so quickly before shooting to the ground.
“I tried so hard to make it stop…and then when it didn’t…I just tried to find something worse…something that would take my mind off of it.”
Her finger traced the jagged line across his cheek.
“Dean…”
“I’m sorry Monte…god I’m so sorry…”
Hearing the sob in his voice, her fingers snaked under his chin and made him look at her. Her own water logged eyes met his, the hazel sparkling like precious gems settled into his eye sockets. But those were jewels she never wished to see. There was too much pain there, pain responsible for that glitter.
“I know Dean.”
His head collapsed on her shoulder and her fingers immediately sought solace buried in his short cropped hair.
Their knees buckled from under them and they slumped down onto the bed.
His fingers wrapped tightly in the black t-shirt she wore, never even realizing it was one of his own.
When she felt the warmth of his tears soak through the fabric she clung tighter to him, his sharp intake of breath causing her to pull back immediately.
“Dean?”
He hissed for a second, trying to gain his breath.
Her brow furrowed with concern as she picked at the hem of his shirt and lifted slightly. Bile rose in the back of her throat when she saw the purple and green that was mottled against his rib cage.
“God…Dean…” she choked.
He shifted and pulled his shirt back down.
“Dean…”
“Stop…please.”
She bit her lip.
“I never wanted to hurt you Monte…I was just so scared…I didn’t know what to do…I’m so sorry…”
“I know,” she whispered, pulling him close again.
“It’s okay Dean…just don’t try any shit like that again or else I’ll have to castrate you,” she said with a forced smile.
He laughed, the sound at least being genuine and making her smile. A smile that was quickly cut short when he hissed in pain again.
“That’s it…I’m getting the first aid kit.”
“Monte…”
“Don’t make me kick your ass boy.”
He grinned. “I kinda deserve it,” he shrugged.
She leaned in and kissed him so softly it made him want to cry again just from the emotion behind it.
“I love you,” he whispered. “And I’m so goddamned sorry.”
“Sshh,” she hushed him, “I know…I love you too…I’ll be right back,” she said before disappearing out the door.
Sam was sitting on the hood of the Impala, worrying his bottom lip something fierce.
He slid off and stood in a rush when Monte came through the door.
She held up a hand to halt his alarm. “It’s okay…I’m just getting the first aid kit,” she informed him, heading towards the trunk of the black car.
“I was almost worried when I didn’t hear furniture being smashed,” he said with his boyish grin, tossing her the keys.
She just shook her head as she delved into the trunk.
Dean was sitting on the foot of the bed when Sam walked in the door.
He looked up quickly, just the thought of being able to lay his eyes on Monte sparking something in his chest. He sighed when he saw Sam.
“Strip.”
“What?” he croaked in surprise.
“Strip…she’s coming in here to patch you up and I plan on helping her if I have to sit on your stubborn ass.”
Dean smirked and slowly and gingerly pulled his shirt over his head before slipping his sweat pants off and sitting back down on the bed in his boxers.
Sam forcefully held back a gasp when he saw the damage on his brother.
He knew Dean had been purposely getting in fights…but he never would have imagined what he saw before him.
His midsection was so bruised and mottled that Sam was certain he had at least a couple cracked ribs, and it looked like someone had tried to take a swipe at him with a knife, and hadn’t entirely missed.
A line crossed his stomach, starting from just below his right nipple and sliding down towards his navel. It wasn’t anything bad, it didn’t need stitches and didn’t look like it had bled long, but Sam was sure it must have hurt like a bitch.
Monte came back in to see the damage Sam had just assessed. Dean heard her intake of breath and he closed his eyes and silently cursed himself.
When he felt the bed dip beside him, he opened them to see Sam sitting beside him and Monte was on her knees in front of him.
Monte handed Sam what Dean recognized as their first aid kit from the Impala, and she held what he surmised must have been her own.
Sam took Dean’s hand and started to clean his busted knuckles.
Monte just looked at him for the longest moment; she could have sworn that boy was looking into her soul.
She took out a bottle, the pills rattling inside breaking the harsh silence and held out a couple for Dean to take.
“For the pain,” she whispered, “they’re some of my Dad’s old prescription, better than Tylenol I promise.”
Dean took them and dry swallowed them, hoping they would start to work soon.
Sam watched them both carefully. He searched his brain mercilessly and could not find one instance when he ever saw his brother like this. He couldn’t help but smile. Underneath the bruises and pain, he could tell he loved her…more than anything.
She leaned forward and kissed the gash on his stomach lightly before starting to doctor it with some salve.
Dean’s brow furrowed when her eyes met his, she just ghosted a smile across her face and continued with her task.
She pulled out a brown bottle of liquid and looked at Dean hesitantly.
“What’s that?” Sam asked.
“It helps with bruises and muscle aches and stuff…my mom was big into the homeopathic medicine,” she answered, unscrewing the cap.
“Good lord…” Dean grimaced.
Monte laughed, “It’s god awful smelling stuff, but it helps, trust me.”
“I do,” he whispered.
She froze for a split second before swallowing hard. “I’m gonna have to…rub it in.”
Dean inhaled deep, pushing on his bruises wasn’t something he was looking forward too, but he nodded his head with the go ahead.
After some colorful curse words, and a hand print firmly imprinted on Sam’s knee she finished with the liniment rub and replaced it in her bag.
“Sammy…”
Sam looked at Dean.
Dean turned his head to look at his brother, Monte sat on her heels and waited.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Sam swallowed and his nostrils flared with emotion, “For…for what?”
Dean paused, “For fixing my mistakes…for bringing her back.”
Monte’s eyes closed and her head dropped, willing away the tears that she had just barely been able to stop.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered.
The awkward silence was broken when Dean’s phone began ringing.
Sam walked over to the nightstand and picked up the vibrating device.
“Unavailable,” he read off the caller ID.
“Hello?”
Sam’s eyes went wide and he looked at Dean and Monte, mouthing ‘Dad’.
“Yes, sir…no, sir…no…”
Monte and Dean were becoming frustrated with only hearing the one side of the conversation.
“Yes, sir, he’s right here…yes, sir…”
Sam held out the phone for Dean to take.
“He’s pissed,” he whispered.
Dean just shot him a ‘tell me something new’ look before taking the phone.
“Hello? Yes, sir…we had a…situation. No, sir. Yes, sir. No, it was my fault. We’ll be on our way in the morning…yes, sir.”
He clicked the phone shut.
Monte looked at him expectantly.
“Alright…so he’s mad. He just wanted to know what was taking us so damn long.”
Suddenly something occurred to her, “Wait…does your dad even know about me?”
Sam and Dean shared a look.
“Not exactly,” Dean supplied.
“Not exactly?”
“Okay…no.”
“Ugh, great,” she said rolling her eyes and standing up.
“Look, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there, we just…need to get there, quick.”
She sighed and looked at him with her hands on her hips.
This was gonna be one hell of a ride.
*Kenny Chesney’s “You Save Me” playing in the background*
Sam excused himself not too much later and headed off for a calming shower, knowing and sensing that Monte and Dean still needed some time to themselves.
Dean had lain down on the bed on his side, watching Monte as she washed her hands at the sink.
He was so scared that if he took his eyes off of her for just one second she would disappear and he’d wake up to find this was all a horrible dream and she wasn’t there.
She looked into the mirror and saw his eyes plastered on her.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said quietly.
The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk and he finally looked away.
She just smiled before walking over to the bed and crawling under the covers with him.
He laced his fingers within hers, needing some sort of anchor, proving to himself that she was still there.
“Monte…”
“Sush…I know you’re sorry…I’ve already forgiven you,” she smiled. “I forgave you the second Sam told me.”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
They just started at each other for the longest of moments.
“I love you…god help me I do,” she laughed.
He laughed too and dropped his head, his forehead grazing hers before looking at her again. “I love you too,” he whispered.
She sighed, “Just promise me you won’t pull some stunt like that again, ‘cause I swear to god I’ll kill you.”
He smiled, “I promise.”
She leaned in and kissed him soft and slow, her soft hands cupping his face and being mindful of the tender abused skin.
His hands found her hips and pulled her closer to him.
God, how he had missed this.
Her right hand shifted down to his chest and pushed slightly, breaking the intense contact.
He looked like a scolded puppy and she had to bite back a smile.
“We need rest…we got a long ride ahead of us and one hell of a fight at the end…and you, for one, look like you’ve gone a round with Tyson.”
“I’m okay.”
She poked him in the ribs and then cursed herself when his eyes watered.
“Yea…you’re fine, I can totally see that.”
“Fine…fine,” he surrendered, pulling her in to kiss her again.
She let him, but pushed him away again after a moment. “I’m serious Dean…besides, don’t you dare think you’re gonna get make-up sex this quick.”
He flashed her that damn devilish grin of his.
“Aww come on,” he winked.
She just laughed, “Nope…gotta punish you somehow.”
“That’s cruel.”
Her eyebrow quirked and he couldn’t help but smile, pulling her into, yet again, another kiss.
“God I love you baby.”
“Love you too,” she whispered.
He ducked his head down and tucked it under her chin, resting his ear over her heart, where he could let the even thumping lull him to sleep.
Her arms wrapped around him, making sure to try to avoid the bruises and not holding too tightly.
They were both asleep by the time Sam got out of the shower.
He smiled to himself and turned off the light that hung between the beds before climbing into his own.
Previous: Chapter One | Next: Chapter Three
Highway to Hell Master Post
Chapter 2: Owner of a Broken Heart
Chapter Wordcount: 2839
When they pulled into the motel’s parking lot Sam got out of the Impala first. Monte stayed in her car for a second before reluctantly following.
She couldn’t remember ever being this scared, except when it came to finding Kevin in that cave. She almost laughed, werewolves, spirits, cults…she could handle those, walking through that door? She wasn’t so sure.
“Monte?”
She sighed and looked at Sam, realizing she had been staring at the door.
“You wanna wait?”
“For what? The apocalypse? Waiting’s not gonna solve anything.”
Sam bit his lip in a half smirk.
She followed Sam up to the door; glancing down the side of the building, if for some unforeseeable reason she had to run she wanted to know what her options were.
Sam swiped the key card and pushed the door open.
Monte caught her first glance of the man that had haunted her thoughts and instantly her heart was in her throat and try as she might she couldn’t draw a breath.
Dean was standing at the foot of one of the beds, leaning against it and folding his clothes.
Even in the cheap crappy light the motel provided Monte could plainly see the purple and sickly yellow bruises that covered his face and no doubt other parts of his body, as well as what looked like a nasty gash that trailed down his chiseled cheek, the skin pulled tight against the line.
“My god what have you done?” she whispered.
Dean stopped dead, holding on to a pair of worn blue jeans with a white knuckled grip. There was no way in hell he had just heard that voice, please god tell him he did not just hear that voice.
Just the whisky…just the tequila…just the rum…please god not the real thing.
He turned slowly, even that much movement making his vision swirl dangerously.
Sam stood in the doorway silently, not even in the room yet. “I’ll be outside,” he whispered over Monte’s shoulder.
She turned her head barely to acknowledge, but never tore her gaze from Dean’s swimming eyes.
She didn’t break his gaze until she heard the door click shut behind her.
Nothing in the motel seemed out of place…it looked like any of the other dives they had stayed in…save the half dozen half drunken liquor bottles that were strewn over the bedside table.
Her eyes slowly made their way back to his, his own gaze returning from the table. Despite the fog in his mind he knew she had drawn the correct conclusion from the evidence.
“What are you doing here?”
“I could ask you the same question.”
“This is my room.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
His nostrils flared and she saw the muscles in his jaw ripple underneath the skin of his cheek, the healed over gash tightening even more.
“None of your business.”
She was so not doing this crap with him. Their damned pride and stubbornness is what had gotten them in this situation in the first place, name-calling and tempers had caused this.
“Sam told me.”
So let’s try reason this time.
Dean stopped breathing.
“He told me about the dream…the premonition. And he told me about your Dad calling.”
Suddenly his vision blurred, but he would never admit that it had nothing to do with his inebriation.
She could tell he wasn’t going to say anything, but she eyed his cheek cautiously, half waiting for the gash to reopen and blood to run down his face because of the way he kept working his jaw.
“Why didn’t you talk to me?” she whispered.
The silence was deafening.
After what seemed like hours, but in actuality was only seconds, he finally answered, dropping his head before he did.
“I don’t know.”
If it hadn’t been so eerily quiet she would never have heard him.
“Dean…” she choked, saying his name alone sparking too much emotion.
“I should have…I know…I just…I don’t know…I wasn’t thinking.”
She finally, hesitantly took a few steps toward him.
“I’m not saying what you did was okay, and I’m in no way saying I’m over it…but I know why you did,” she paused. “But did you seriously think you were protecting me?”
“If you’re not there then it can’t happen,” he whispered in a broken voice. A voice she had no desire to ever hear come from those lips again.
“Dean…you and Sam…you’re all I’ve got…by pushing me away like that…you would have killed me,” she took a deep breath, “maybe even by my own hand.”
His impossibly deep hazel eyes locked on hers with alarm.
“Dean…I mean it, you are my home. Without you I have nowhere to go…honestly, I don’t know what I would have done…or how long I would’ve lasted…maybe I’d pull some Thelma and Louise stunt and drive off into a canyon. But mark my words Winchester, I wouldn’t have survived long without you.”
Guilt slammed into him like a freight train. Thanks to his damn guns blazing shoot first ask question later attitude he had almost lost one of the most important things in his life…in more ways than one.
“Monte…”
*Goo Goo Dolls’ “Iris” playing in the background*
“What are you doing Dean?” she whispered, running her fingers lightly over the bruised flesh on his face, his right eye slightly puffy.
Her touch alone sparked tingles where her fingertips were and a shiver ghosted down his spine.
“I just wanted it to go away.”
God he sounded so broken.
He is broken, she thought, biting back a sob that threatened to erupt.
“What?” she whispered.
“The pain…I just wanted it to go away.”
His gaze flicked to the bottles on the table ever so quickly before shooting to the ground.
“I tried so hard to make it stop…and then when it didn’t…I just tried to find something worse…something that would take my mind off of it.”
Her finger traced the jagged line across his cheek.
“Dean…”
“I’m sorry Monte…god I’m so sorry…”
Hearing the sob in his voice, her fingers snaked under his chin and made him look at her. Her own water logged eyes met his, the hazel sparkling like precious gems settled into his eye sockets. But those were jewels she never wished to see. There was too much pain there, pain responsible for that glitter.
“I know Dean.”
His head collapsed on her shoulder and her fingers immediately sought solace buried in his short cropped hair.
Their knees buckled from under them and they slumped down onto the bed.
His fingers wrapped tightly in the black t-shirt she wore, never even realizing it was one of his own.
When she felt the warmth of his tears soak through the fabric she clung tighter to him, his sharp intake of breath causing her to pull back immediately.
“Dean?”
He hissed for a second, trying to gain his breath.
Her brow furrowed with concern as she picked at the hem of his shirt and lifted slightly. Bile rose in the back of her throat when she saw the purple and green that was mottled against his rib cage.
“God…Dean…” she choked.
He shifted and pulled his shirt back down.
“Dean…”
“Stop…please.”
She bit her lip.
“I never wanted to hurt you Monte…I was just so scared…I didn’t know what to do…I’m so sorry…”
“I know,” she whispered, pulling him close again.
“It’s okay Dean…just don’t try any shit like that again or else I’ll have to castrate you,” she said with a forced smile.
He laughed, the sound at least being genuine and making her smile. A smile that was quickly cut short when he hissed in pain again.
“That’s it…I’m getting the first aid kit.”
“Monte…”
“Don’t make me kick your ass boy.”
He grinned. “I kinda deserve it,” he shrugged.
She leaned in and kissed him so softly it made him want to cry again just from the emotion behind it.
“I love you,” he whispered. “And I’m so goddamned sorry.”
“Sshh,” she hushed him, “I know…I love you too…I’ll be right back,” she said before disappearing out the door.
Sam was sitting on the hood of the Impala, worrying his bottom lip something fierce.
He slid off and stood in a rush when Monte came through the door.
She held up a hand to halt his alarm. “It’s okay…I’m just getting the first aid kit,” she informed him, heading towards the trunk of the black car.
“I was almost worried when I didn’t hear furniture being smashed,” he said with his boyish grin, tossing her the keys.
She just shook her head as she delved into the trunk.
Dean was sitting on the foot of the bed when Sam walked in the door.
He looked up quickly, just the thought of being able to lay his eyes on Monte sparking something in his chest. He sighed when he saw Sam.
“Strip.”
“What?” he croaked in surprise.
“Strip…she’s coming in here to patch you up and I plan on helping her if I have to sit on your stubborn ass.”
Dean smirked and slowly and gingerly pulled his shirt over his head before slipping his sweat pants off and sitting back down on the bed in his boxers.
Sam forcefully held back a gasp when he saw the damage on his brother.
He knew Dean had been purposely getting in fights…but he never would have imagined what he saw before him.
His midsection was so bruised and mottled that Sam was certain he had at least a couple cracked ribs, and it looked like someone had tried to take a swipe at him with a knife, and hadn’t entirely missed.
A line crossed his stomach, starting from just below his right nipple and sliding down towards his navel. It wasn’t anything bad, it didn’t need stitches and didn’t look like it had bled long, but Sam was sure it must have hurt like a bitch.
Monte came back in to see the damage Sam had just assessed. Dean heard her intake of breath and he closed his eyes and silently cursed himself.
When he felt the bed dip beside him, he opened them to see Sam sitting beside him and Monte was on her knees in front of him.
Monte handed Sam what Dean recognized as their first aid kit from the Impala, and she held what he surmised must have been her own.
Sam took Dean’s hand and started to clean his busted knuckles.
Monte just looked at him for the longest moment; she could have sworn that boy was looking into her soul.
She took out a bottle, the pills rattling inside breaking the harsh silence and held out a couple for Dean to take.
“For the pain,” she whispered, “they’re some of my Dad’s old prescription, better than Tylenol I promise.”
Dean took them and dry swallowed them, hoping they would start to work soon.
Sam watched them both carefully. He searched his brain mercilessly and could not find one instance when he ever saw his brother like this. He couldn’t help but smile. Underneath the bruises and pain, he could tell he loved her…more than anything.
She leaned forward and kissed the gash on his stomach lightly before starting to doctor it with some salve.
Dean’s brow furrowed when her eyes met his, she just ghosted a smile across her face and continued with her task.
She pulled out a brown bottle of liquid and looked at Dean hesitantly.
“What’s that?” Sam asked.
“It helps with bruises and muscle aches and stuff…my mom was big into the homeopathic medicine,” she answered, unscrewing the cap.
“Good lord…” Dean grimaced.
Monte laughed, “It’s god awful smelling stuff, but it helps, trust me.”
“I do,” he whispered.
She froze for a split second before swallowing hard. “I’m gonna have to…rub it in.”
Dean inhaled deep, pushing on his bruises wasn’t something he was looking forward too, but he nodded his head with the go ahead.
After some colorful curse words, and a hand print firmly imprinted on Sam’s knee she finished with the liniment rub and replaced it in her bag.
“Sammy…”
Sam looked at Dean.
Dean turned his head to look at his brother, Monte sat on her heels and waited.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
Sam swallowed and his nostrils flared with emotion, “For…for what?”
Dean paused, “For fixing my mistakes…for bringing her back.”
Monte’s eyes closed and her head dropped, willing away the tears that she had just barely been able to stop.
“You’re welcome,” he whispered.
The awkward silence was broken when Dean’s phone began ringing.
Sam walked over to the nightstand and picked up the vibrating device.
“Unavailable,” he read off the caller ID.
“Hello?”
Sam’s eyes went wide and he looked at Dean and Monte, mouthing ‘Dad’.
“Yes, sir…no, sir…no…”
Monte and Dean were becoming frustrated with only hearing the one side of the conversation.
“Yes, sir, he’s right here…yes, sir…”
Sam held out the phone for Dean to take.
“He’s pissed,” he whispered.
Dean just shot him a ‘tell me something new’ look before taking the phone.
“Hello? Yes, sir…we had a…situation. No, sir. Yes, sir. No, it was my fault. We’ll be on our way in the morning…yes, sir.”
He clicked the phone shut.
Monte looked at him expectantly.
“Alright…so he’s mad. He just wanted to know what was taking us so damn long.”
Suddenly something occurred to her, “Wait…does your dad even know about me?”
Sam and Dean shared a look.
“Not exactly,” Dean supplied.
“Not exactly?”
“Okay…no.”
“Ugh, great,” she said rolling her eyes and standing up.
“Look, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there, we just…need to get there, quick.”
She sighed and looked at him with her hands on her hips.
This was gonna be one hell of a ride.
*Kenny Chesney’s “You Save Me” playing in the background*
Sam excused himself not too much later and headed off for a calming shower, knowing and sensing that Monte and Dean still needed some time to themselves.
Dean had lain down on the bed on his side, watching Monte as she washed her hands at the sink.
He was so scared that if he took his eyes off of her for just one second she would disappear and he’d wake up to find this was all a horrible dream and she wasn’t there.
She looked into the mirror and saw his eyes plastered on her.
“I’m not going anywhere,” she said quietly.
The corner of his mouth twitched into a smirk and he finally looked away.
She just smiled before walking over to the bed and crawling under the covers with him.
He laced his fingers within hers, needing some sort of anchor, proving to himself that she was still there.
“Monte…”
“Sush…I know you’re sorry…I’ve already forgiven you,” she smiled. “I forgave you the second Sam told me.”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat.
They just started at each other for the longest of moments.
“I love you…god help me I do,” she laughed.
He laughed too and dropped his head, his forehead grazing hers before looking at her again. “I love you too,” he whispered.
She sighed, “Just promise me you won’t pull some stunt like that again, ‘cause I swear to god I’ll kill you.”
He smiled, “I promise.”
She leaned in and kissed him soft and slow, her soft hands cupping his face and being mindful of the tender abused skin.
His hands found her hips and pulled her closer to him.
God, how he had missed this.
Her right hand shifted down to his chest and pushed slightly, breaking the intense contact.
He looked like a scolded puppy and she had to bite back a smile.
“We need rest…we got a long ride ahead of us and one hell of a fight at the end…and you, for one, look like you’ve gone a round with Tyson.”
“I’m okay.”
She poked him in the ribs and then cursed herself when his eyes watered.
“Yea…you’re fine, I can totally see that.”
“Fine…fine,” he surrendered, pulling her in to kiss her again.
She let him, but pushed him away again after a moment. “I’m serious Dean…besides, don’t you dare think you’re gonna get make-up sex this quick.”
He flashed her that damn devilish grin of his.
“Aww come on,” he winked.
She just laughed, “Nope…gotta punish you somehow.”
“That’s cruel.”
Her eyebrow quirked and he couldn’t help but smile, pulling her into, yet again, another kiss.
“God I love you baby.”
“Love you too,” she whispered.
He ducked his head down and tucked it under her chin, resting his ear over her heart, where he could let the even thumping lull him to sleep.
Her arms wrapped around him, making sure to try to avoid the bruises and not holding too tightly.
They were both asleep by the time Sam got out of the shower.
He smiled to himself and turned off the light that hung between the beds before climbing into his own.
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Highway to Hell Master Post