Hunting Hearts

Chapter 7

What ever animal is playing in the bushes outside, needs to cut it out. 

I groggily sit up and try to open my eyes, while the rustling sound gets louder. A grunt follows and I realize it's not any wildlife outside, it's Dean. I roll over and watch as his brows furrow and his body starts to jerk. His moaning gets louder and more pained and before I know it I'm ripping off the covers and racing over to him. 

"Dean. Dean." I climb onto the bed and lay a hand on his arm, trying to wake him. He explodes, eyes wild, and I find myself being flipped onto my back, his hand at my throat and a gun barrel pressed to my head. He towers over me, his legs straddling mine. His grip is tight, the air slides out of me and I paw at him to try and loosen his fingers. 

"Dean," I wheeze, "It's me, it's Teagan. Dean-" 

"Oh s**t-" He seems to snap back into himself and immediately releases me. "Teagan, s**t are you alright?" Dean quickly puts the gun on the nightstand next to him and grabs my face and neck, checking for damage. 

I cough and push his hands off of my face, taking his warmth with them. I rub my neck and cringe at the soreness, but stop when I see Dean's face. "Hey, I'm fine. No harm done, it's okay." 

"f**k Teagan. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to-" 

"I know. What were you dreaming about?" I say calmly; I swear I can hear his frantic heartbeat, but within the blink of an eye he's shut down, and I can tell he won't talk about it. 

"Nothing. It's nothing. I'm fine." Dean closes himself off and I awkwardly climb off of the bed and make my way to my own. I watch him put his back to me but I don't close my eyes until I hear him slip into a deep sleep. 

--

Dean is singing, or attempting to sing. Asia's Heat of the Moment plays from the alarm clock next to his bed and I raise an eyebrow at him as he comes out of the bathroom fully dressed, toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. Dean mouths the words as he slips his shoes on and nods along to the beat. 

Someone's in a good mood.

"Asia? Really?" I ask sitting up.

"Come on. You know you love this song." Dean winks and I feel a line of heat rip down my spine. 

The memory of last night surfaces in my head instantly dropping my joy close to zero. I have a feeling Dean's attitude this morning is a distraction, and not just for me. Dean finishes brushing his teeth just as Sam knocks on the door with breakfast. The smell of chocolate chip pancakes drifts to my nose and my stomach grumbles. 

"We'll meet in the car in thirty, yeah?" Sam tells Dean and he nods, closing the door behind Sam. 

I start for the pancakes but Dean holds them over my head, "Get dressed first, and then you can eat." 

I shoot him a glare as I stand, but he just grins. 

--

We're all in the car but the only sound is the rock music filtering through the radio. I can tell from the furrow in Deans brow he's thinking, probably about the hunt tonight. During breakfast, after I'd gotten dressed, Dean and I had sat down and talked about the plan for today. 

"We have to stop by an old family friend to get some dead man's blood, but otherwise we should be able to get everything done and we can just go back to the bunker when we're finished." He'd told me in between bites of bacon, but I hadn't heard what he said after that because he licked his lips and my mind went blank. 

Just the thought of it made the blood rush to my face, and my thighs tighten, and Dean noticed. I saw his eyes flash to the apex of my thighs and his tongue slowly drift out to wet his bottom lip. I swallowed, hard. The spark in his green eyes sent shivers down my back, and I could only imagine was the hands gripping the steering wheel could do to me. Blowing out a shaky breath, I turn to the window. 

I don't know what was wrong with me. Now definitely wasn't the time to be thinking things like that. Especially not about Dean. I need to think about the hunt, and how I can avoid getting killed. 

It was like he read my mind. "Are you nervous about tonight?" Dean says to me. 

"A little. Who wouldn't be?" 

He nodded. "Sam was nervous his first time too." 

The giant scoffs from the backseat. "Yeah, because when I told Dad I was afraid of the thing in the closet, he handed me a 45." 

Dean shrugged, "Everyone needs a bit of protection." 

"Is that why you sleep with a pistol under your pillow?" I look at Dean, eyebrow quirked. 

"Among other things." Was his only reply. 

--

We pulled up to an old junkyard, cars and their parts scattered over the expanse of dry, desert land. What I think is a garage sits to our right, and a house a few yards ahead of us. Dean is the first out of the car, yelling out, "Bobby!" 

I roll my eyes and climb out of the passenger seat and walk around to the front of the Impala, resting on the hood. Sam comes up next to me, arms crossed while Castiel stands on the other side. A figure sets down the stairs leading to the porch on the big house and we follow Dean to meet him. 

"Sam! Dean! How are you boys? Cass." He rests his hands on his hips and brings his eyes to stare at me. Giving me a once over, he looks back at Dean and nods. 

"Bobby Singer," Bobby says and holds out his hand. I grasp it as firmly as I can. Squinting at the new setting sun, Bobby lets out a breath. "What do ya need?"