You Ain't Nothin' But A Hound Dog

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The witch needed for the next part of the trials was located in Northern Idaho, in a town so North it was almost close to being on the Canada-U.S. border. That's what Gabe and Cas said, after doing a scour of the underbelly of the downworlder-ly people. So, it was decided after making sure little Felicity found her family (frantic photogenic parents who thanked you with fresh food from their market that Sam liked a lot more than Dean) that a beeline would be made for Porthill, Idaho.

"What's with this town, _____?" Dean laughed. He was behind the wheel once again; his favourite place in the whole world, next to being beside you. "Population less than a hundred ... I'm going to need snow chains for the tires, aren't I?"

You pat Dean's knee, and nod morosely. "Yeah, you will. But we're only just in Kansas. Don't jump the gun, Winchester."

From the back seat, legs sprawled across the leather to accommodate his size, Sam snorted. "You sound like an old married couple, the both of you."

You whistle low and lock eyes with him in the rear vision mirror. "Woah there, Sam, the man hasn't proposed yet. Don't give him any ideas."

Dean raised a brow. "I thought I proposed last night?"

Before Sam could ask about the accidently spilled tea, there's a whirl of wings. Almost too fast, Gabriel is there, and he kisses Sam's cheek and waves to everyone. "Hey babe. Babe's brother and sis in law to be. What up?"

Dean raised his other eyebrow. "Since when?" He asks Sam.

The gigantic human being shrugs a shoulder. "A couple of years. Since that motel – when you met ______, actually. I was sick of being celibate after Jess, and I met a guy, and then he turned out to be Cas' brother -,"

Gabe produces a lollypop from his jeans, and unwrapping the sucker, puts it into his mouth. "We've been a thing for a while. Keep up with the times, Dean, your brother is bi as heaven."

You nod, grinning. "I thought I saw some chemistry between you two -,"

"How much further to Porthill?" Dean wonders idly.


Halfway across Wyoming, Dean pulled into a motel in Fort Collins, and let out a sigh. "We're stopping for the night here."

You glance to him. His face is dark in the shadow of the moonlight, painting the lines of age and wear onto his face like a reverse cover-up makeup. Slow, as Sam and Gabe jump out to pay the motel owner before they lock up, you move to face your boyfriend. For a moment, you can picture his face before all of this crap hit him like a truck on the freeway at full speed. when he was younger, hair spiked up like a kid at a school dance with their flames t-shirt. Now, he's tired. 

You're tired, too.

But you know it's only really the start. 

"Dean, talk to me," you whisper. All you can hear from him is even breaths, like he's calm. But he can't be, not - , "Baby, please. If you're tired, I'll take over driving until Idaho. Maybe Sam, he's had more experience in the Im-,"

"-I'm sick of these supernatural idiots barging into your life - our lives! - to play games," Dean bursts. "I wanted to have kids and settle down and leave hunting for good for us; I wanted the wedding of your dreams and a dog and a pick up truck and to watch you wake every morning without knowing that you might die the next day, trying to balance out the universe!" 

You pale.

"And then we're travelling all over the country for this? Goddamn right, I'm tired. Sick and tired of having a damn quest in the way of our - our love!"

You nod. 

"I'd love to marry you," you whisper. "I'm still...some days, I forget that our lives weren't erased like they were...that we still," your voice breaks, and you close your eyes. "That we still have a baby. A future." At this confession, it seems to break a dam wall, and it all comes out. Tears, words, hiccuping breaths that leave your chest aching.

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