Death's Daughter | Supernatural, D.W.

Hotel Rooms

"Please, Dean?" I whine, giving him my best puppy eyes.

"No, Mallory," he replies. "The last hunt you went on, you almost died. You just recovered from being on your death bed for a week. Why do you want to put yourself in harms way so badly?"

"I don't. But how am I supposed to learn how to hunt if you don't help me?" I ask.

"There's a whole library full of lore, go crazy," Dean shrugs.

"That doesn't do me any good."

"Neither does dying!"

"You're being way too dramatic."

"Am I? For wanting to just keep you safe?"

I cross my arms in protest of Dean's argument while I think of a response. Before I do, Dean speaks up again.

"I know I'm being hard on you, but I just wish you would stay here and take it easy. It's just a big liability. You have to understand."

Dean and I make eye contact as I digest his words. Liability.

"Yeah, I get it," I nod, then leave the room, allowing Dean to pack his weapons in peace.

A liability. Who does he think he is? I've only gone on one hunt, and I was trying to save a pair of kids from a vengeful spirit. It could've happened to him, too.

While I pace in my room, stewing in frustration, Dean knocks on my door and enters.

"If you want to come on this hunt, you have to stay with me," he commands. "No ifs, ands, or buts."

"You were the one that made us split up last time," I remind him.

"Yeah, whatever, we're doing it different this time. You stay behind me, and you do what I say."

"Stop treating me like a kid, Dean," I sigh. "I know you want me safe, but this is a bit overkill."

Dean mulls over my statement for a second. "Pack your stuff, meet me in the garage in ten minutes."

I sigh deeply; strict Dean is no fun. Regardless, I pack a bag of clothes and necessities, then report to the garage to find Sam and Dean waiting for me.

"Ready?" Dean asks. I nod and climb into the back seat.

"Where are we going?" I ask. "What's the plan?"

"We're hunting what looks like a djinn," Sam says. He tosses some newspaper articles over the seat to me. "St. Louis."

"Liquid insides...that's disgusting," I comment. "How do you know it's not something else? Like a strong demon or something? They could do that."

"Read further," he instructs.

I read further into the coroner's report to find that djinn leave blue handprints on their victims.

"So that's the signature? A blue handprint?" I ask.

"Pretty much," Sam says. "This one's moving fast. Three bodies in two days."

I grimace. Maybe this wasn't a good hunt to go on.

After a number of hours spent in the back seat, Sam pulls up to a motel. I take my room key from an even more grumpy Dean, and go to my room. About five minutes later, Dean is at my door, asking to come in.

I open the door. "Are you here to give me more safety training?"

"No," Dean replies, walking past me and into my room. I shut the door behind him.

"So what do you want?" I ask.

As we stand, inches apart, Dean places his hands on either side of my face gently and pulls me in to a fragile and soft kiss. I put my arms around him and get comfortable until I realize what I'm doing. As nicely as possible, I push him away and fold my arms across my chest.

"You've been mean to me all day, you know," I mumble, trying to muster the courage to make him leave. "I can't gauge your mood at all. You told me I'm a liability and you keep treating me like I'm a kid, but now you want...what? I don't even know what you want. You never told me.

"Listen, I know you're all about my safety and you don't want me to get hurt, but I'm a big girl, Dean. Let me handle myself a little."

Dean puts his hands up and smiles a little. "You're right. I need to ease up. This is me, trying to ease up. Let's work this out."

I smile helplessly; it's impossible for me to hold anything against Dean. "How?"

Dean smirks. "However you want."

Immediately, my face turns red, and I feel deeply embarrassed by my own thoughts, and even more embarrassed that I want to follow them. I stare at the floor, unable to make myself speak or move. These feelings are foreign, and I don't know how to process them.

Slowly, Dean approaches me, places a finger under my chin, and brings my eye line to meet his. I smile at him again, put my arms around his neck, and kiss him. His hands find my waste and hold me close; not even a sheet of paper could fit between us.

Dean makes the first move by deepening the kiss. I feel it everywhere, and it gives me a spark of courage. Slow and steady, I inch backward to the bed, keeping a grip on Dean's T-shirt. The back of my legs hit the bed. Dean trails kisses to my cheek, down my jaw, onto my neck. I let out a small noise on accident, and instinctively cover my mouth.

Dean laughs. "It's okay. That's a nice sound."

I echo his laughter quietly. He takes a second to gauge my facial expression.

"Are you comfortable?" He asks with all seriousness. "There's no pressure."

Inside, I know good and well that I should stop what I'm doing. But outside, concerning my actions, and Dean's...I don't want to. Something about hotel rooms. "I'm good if you are."

Dean takes my permission and runs with it. He seizes my waist again and resumes his wandering kisses. Soon, his hands find trails of their own to wander. I stoke my own fire, taking it upon myself to remove Dean's shirt and throw it to the side of the bed.

I collapse onto the soft-ish comforter, pulling Dean down with me. His body weight presses me further into the mattress, but it feels comforting, and weirdly safe, despite the situation.

Dean starts working me out of my own clothes, following my method of simply throwing them aside. My nerves build with every new touch he delivers to my skin. My mind races at a thousand miles a minute, not knowing what to expect or how to react. I succumb to the reality that I'm completely under Dean's control, and it somewhat scares me.

But he's all gentle. Much gentler than I would have expected. Dean takes things slow, ensuring mutual enjoyment, and he's good at it, too. Despite my strung out thoughts, I feel everything to the fullest extent of my ability, from his kisses to his movements. And when it's all over, I feel an overwhelming wave of emotion as Dean kisses my forehead, and tells me that I'm gorgeous.