Title: Forever Yours - "Dark"
Summary: for spn_30snapshots , theme "ELEMENTAL". Deleted scene during 5x09. Takes place November 2009.
Word count: 624
Status: one-shot
Disclaimer: All characters are owned by Kripke, et al, and I only borrow them to indulge in my sick, road trip-provoked fantasies.

It's so dark when she looks out the window, but there's no sign of sleep on the horizon for her. They're all trying, but she knows everyone in that house is still awake and there's no chance any single one of them will fall asleep. Except maybe Cas. She gets the feeling he could have slept through Hurricane Katrina if he'd been around for that. Did angels even need REM cycles?

Bobby's house is drafty, so she's glad there are lots of comforters piled on the bed she's in. It's made up in some kind of guest room, though she has to wonder if it was meant to be for a child. She knows Bobby was married once, wonders what his wife was like. If they'd planned for children. If they would have had a girl. Bobby's kind of like a father to the three of them, her, Sam, and Dean. Maybe that's enough for him. She hopes he doesn't regret the life he has. She wants to know that he's happy, if she's going to die tomorrow.

She shifts, and the mattress creaks as her knee finds a cold spot on the mattress. The sky outside the window is overcast and black as pitch. No sign of a moon or stars. Maybe that's an omen. That's one thing she would have liked to learn more about while she lived - omens. Sam was good at that kind of thing, and she always thought it kind of neat, but never really took to the research stuff. She liked to feel like she was making a difference in a big way, and that's why she was putting her life on the line tomorrow, why she was quite sure she'd die in Carthage, Missouri, trying to stop the apocalypse.

It's an odd feeling, thinking you're going to die. She's never had it before. Well, maybe once, briefly, when she was trapped in that sewer in Philly. But even then, she'd known - or hoped - somewhere in the back of her mind that Dean would come. She's been in plenty of dangerous situations since then, and the thought that she could die has never really bothered her. She'd always known that she could take care of herself, or that if she had an off moment someone will help her. She has that kind of support system. Her mother. Bobby. Sam. Dean.

It's no wonder he thinks she's such a pain in the ass. But she's proud that lately she's been turning that around. She's turned into quite the little huntress, and that excites her. She's finally found something she's good at, something that would make her daddy proud, and she thinks that must be turning Dean's head her way. Not that it matters. Not anymore.

For a moment tonight, it almost mattered. He'd tried, and her damn fool prideful streak had made her shoot him down. And she felt stupid for admitting it, but the idea that she might die without ever having been with Dean Winchester, felt his weight between her legs, woken up in his arms... If she truly did die tomorrow, that would be the one thing she'd regret the most. That they never really got their shot. That it might have opened up and she slammed the door in its face.

The open door creaks a little, and she isn't surprised to see Dean standing there, beer in hand.

"Can't sleep?" He's stage-whispering. She wonders how long he's been standing there.

"No," she admits. She's never felt so vulnerable as she does right now, when she's lying in bed and Dean's looking at her like that. He's looking at her like she feels. Like this really might be their last chance.

"Want some company?"

"Yeah."