Haunted {Dean Winchester 1}

Chapter 27

Asylum

"Dean." I moaned, arching my back. His hand slipped under my shirt, sliding across my skin as his lips moved across my neck. He began kissing back up my neck, my jaw, my cheek until his lips met mine again. 

I run my hands over his bare chest, down to his muscular abdomen. I move my hands upward again, slipping them over his shoulders as his hands rested on either side of my head as he held himself above me. Dean's lips moved against mine. 

God, I missed this. 

I twin my fingers into his hair as his lips trailed down my neck once more, nipping at the skin as his lips reached my collarbone. 

"Saige?" He breathed against my skin, voice gravelly. Another soft moan fell past my lips as I felt one hand moving up my thigh. His calloused palm was rough against my leg as it moved further and further up my inner thigh. 

"Saige." He said again, louder this time. "Saige!"

I jump awake, eyes shooting open. I was breathing heavy, eyes jumping around the room frantically. "What?" I try my best to sound normal, but my voice still came out all panicked and high.

Dean chuckled a little. "You were out of it. You know the expression dead to the world? Yeah, that was you."

"And?" I asked, shifting uncomfortably, not meeting Dean's eyes. 

"You just--" He began. 

Sam hung up the phone as he sat on the foot of the bed across from Dean and I who sat at the table. 

"Caleb hasn't heard from him?" Dean asked, referring to John. 

"Nope. Neither has Jefferson or Pastor Jim." Sam stated. "What about the journal, any leads in there?"

Dean shook his head. "Same as the last time I look. Nothing I can make out." He scoffed. "I love the guy, but I swear he writes like friggin' Yoda. Your Dad say anything, Saige?"

"No. Hasn't seen or heard from him." I replied. 

"You know, maybe we should call the feds. File a missing persons." Sam suggested.

"We talked about this. Dad would be pissed if we put the feds on his tail." Dean tells Sam. 

"I don't care anymore. I mean, after all that happened back at Kansas." Sam began as Dean stood, moving across the room to grab his ringing phone. "He should've been there, Dean. You said so yourself. You tried to call him and nothing." 

"Where the hell is my cell phone?" Dean muttered.

"In your jacket." I answered.

"That's where I'm looking."

"Look harder." 

"Look, he could be dead for all we know." Sam continued.

Dean looked over at Sam. "Don't say that. He's not dead. He's...He's..."

"He's what?" Sam asked. "He's hiding? He's busy?" 

Dean finally found it phone, flipping it open and making the annoying ringing stop. 

"See? I told you it was in your jacket." I say. 

Dean scoffed. "I don't believe it."

"You were literally arguing with me about it." I point out. 

Dean sat down on the bed. "No, it's...it's a text message."

"Oh, yeah, that....it's very unbelievable." I nodded my head.