It was futile, sitting around in the dingy motel and hoping you'd come to visit him. He'd been in this tiny town for three days now, and you had yet to show yourself. Even Sam could sense that Dean wasn't himself. He was distracted, out of the loop, on edge.

The first time he and Sam came to this town, it was for you. They knew by the severity of the cases that they were dealing with a vampire. One that hunted down young men and fed from their blood like a leech. Dean was adamant to find you himself, end the killings and put the town behind them. Until he actually saw you.

You were too pretty, too innocent to be a vampire. You looked at him with wide eyes, and it was then he knew he couldn't do it, couldn't finish the job. He had the bullet ready, weapon aimed, and then, he bit the bullet.

Dean lied to Sam, claiming he had found you, burned the body, and took care of it. And that was that. They left the town and continued on their search. That was almost three months ago.

Now, Dean was waiting around like a puppy for you, which he knew was pathetic, but he didn't know how to find you. He had kept you alive, against his better judgement and teachings. Whenever he and Sam passed through this excuse of a town, he waited to see you. He hoped, prayed you'd sense him and come to him, as you usually did.

This moment wasn't any different, him waiting for you. Sam was out at the library, doing some late night research, much to Dean's luck. He was sprawled out on the creaky motel bed, clad in just his jeans, hand folded over his face. Before long, there was a single knock on the door. Dean practically dashed to the door, opening it up and leaning against it. There you were, in all of your bloodcurdling glory.

"Well well well, look who finally decided to grace me with their presence," Dean started, crossing his arms over his bare chest. He had that stupid smirk on his face, cocky and assured with himself. "I'm surprised you even showed up, {{user}}."