❛ CHAPTER TWO ━ AMONG MONSTERS &
TEDDY BEARS  ❜
𖤐¸𓍢 ━━ ❪ ACT ONE OF SOULBOUND ❫ ˖ ୧ 。
◟ ✦ NO MATTER WHAT HE'S STILL DEAN ❞

THE LAST 24-HOURS HAD SUKEN in for Olive when she finally had a moment to catch her breath in the Impala. They've been driving down the dirt road to Indiana when the child felt a sudden tug in her chest, prodding in pain when she thought about Sophia and the crash, when she thought about the demon in the cabin. What's worse is that Olive was perfectly fine in the diner, now it was like she was taking ten steps back.

Maybe it was because Olive was too young to process the trauma while it was happening, or maybe it was just because she had been used to the chaos in her life.

No matter which way you looked at it, everything in Olive's heart hurt.

And for as long as Olive could remember, every time she felt an ounce of happiness something bad would come and take it away. Always.

Like the night she lost her parents. She didn't remember much about that night— most likely her trauma trying to shield her from it.

But she remembered how it started.

Her father wanted to take her out for her fourth birthday. Olive had never been more excited.

One second she was standing at the train station with her father, the next second she was alone.

The four-year-old was abandoned in the dead of winter, surrounded by strangers with the only warmth coming from her sweater.

There had been a young man there, she remembers, who walked up to her. He'd been the only one to stop.

She couldn't place his name. No matter how hard she tried, she simply couldn't remember who he was.

But Olive did remember his warm smile, feeling a sense of familiarity she couldn't place. He sat down beside her with a lollipop in one hand and a teddy bear in the other, both for her— a birthday present.

To this day Olive didn't know where he pulled the teddy bear from, but she's had it ever since.

The man wrapped Olive in his jacket and left her on the doorsteps of the nearest Police station, handing her a piece of paper that he told her to give to the first adult she saw, before leaving her there.

The paper read: Olivia Grace Parker, December 7th 2005. Please find me a safe and loving home.

If only he knew that leaving her at the Police station would lead to the craziest experiences of her life.

Olive wouldn't bring up the things that happened after that. In that orphanage. She had spent hardly a year there and already ran away three times before she was eventually adopted by her new mother. Sophia.

Sophia saved her life and that was what Olive could possibly sum up about her. She saved her.

Olive had never been happier than the months she had spent with Sophia, the pure love and kindness that was given to her. The unconditional love she'd been looking for after being abandoned.

Only to be abandoned, everything was taken away the second they drove off that road merely sixteen hours ago.

Bad things are always around the corner when Olive Grace was happy.

Like now.

Dean drove down the highway, bellowing the lyrics to an old song that she'd never heard of. She sat in the passenger seat, bopping her head to the tune and smiling whenever Dean sang directly to her.

But then, unnoticeably to Dean, the car began to speed up. The engine rumbling louder as they zoomed down the highway like a bullet.

He was never cautious about how fast he drives, if anything this was being generous to the speed limit.

Olive gripped the bottom of the leather seat, and although the car was going incredibly fast her heartbeat was pumping in her ears agonizingly slow.

She felt sick watching the sceneries blend in the window, her stomach twisting into knots remembering this same feeling when the car spun out of control with Sophia when the demon appeared on the road.

Dean hadn't noticed her panic, the music blocking out her soft whimpers as he continued to drumming his fingers on the steering wheel.

Her breathing became faint and soon Olive felt petrified. She was imagining the way the tires slide across the pavement, which made a horrible sound and smelled like burning rubber.

Then the sound of Sophia's scream filled her ears.

"S-Stop the car. . ." Olive choked out.

Dean couldn't hear her over the music, "Huh?" He barely had time to lower it before Olive let out a strangled cry.

"Stop the car, please stop!"

The Impala screeched to a stop, his foot pressing on the brake so hard that his body jerked forward at the force.

Dean turns to her quickly, his heart speeding up as she began to shake, "Whoa! Hey, hey! What's wrong?"

Olive pants out, and without thinking, she opens the car door.

Dean yells out when she crashes onto the cement, scrambling out of the car and rounding the front.

"Olive? Hey! Stop that!"

She was shaking, not in a way that made her thrash but in a way that made her shiver every second.

Her eyes strained up at the evening sky with such intensity that one would assume she was vengeful towards it.

Olive slowly drops down on her back, hands spread out like a starfish as she ignored Dean's frantic voice.

Everything was silent.

Just her heartbeat mixed with the sound of Sophia calling her name, crying as Olive was dragged through the woods.

She could feel Dean messily dabbing a wet cloth on her forehead as he talks—no, yelled at someone on the other end of his phone.

Olive closed her eyes, focusing on anything else.

Trying to remember something that tied to comfort.

And that's when the engine of the Impala broke through her silence barrier, the hum was like a symphony in her ears, the vibration against the pavement making her feel better. Feel safe.

Not because she was attached to the car itself, but because she was allowing herself to get attached to the person who owned it.

"Olive? Olive!" He calls out. She slowly opened her eyes, causing him to sigh out in relief, "It's alright, Bobby she's conscious." He says into the phone, his eyes frantically sweeping her face.

"Dean?"

"I'll call you back." He snapped the phone shut and discarded it, scooping her into his arms. "Are you okay? What happened? What the hell, Olive? I thought you were. . .I don't even know."

She stares at him, confused, "You were worried?"

He ran his hand over his face, "Worried? Olive, you scared the crap out of me, you understand that?"

She falters, eyes shining with tears, "Oh."

"Oh?" His tone was asking for elaboration.

This was a new feeling, having someone care about what happened to her. She had barely gotten used to it with Sophia, and now Dean.

"I'm sorry, Dean," She drags, curling into herself.

Her voice shattered, but he broke even faster.

He melts, lowering his voice into a soft mutter, "It's okay, it's okay. Hey—" He squeezed her lightly and she looks back up in response, "You never have to apologize for not being okay. There's nothing wrong with not being one-hundred percent, kid."

She smiles.

"But you gotta tell me when you're not instead of jumping out of cars."

Her smile breaks into a grin, "At least it wasn't moving." To that, he rolled his eyes.

"What happened?"

"I. . You. ."

"Take a second."

Olive exhaled and sat up in his arms, "When good things happen. . .bad things do too." She explains slowly and unsure, "Bad things happened after my mommy and daddy, bad things happened after Sophia, and—and. . ."

Her shoulders slumped, "We were just having so much fun, but the car was going so fast."

"You got scared because you were happy?" Dean asks unsure. She nods, and he looks even more confused, "Shouldn't that make you feel better?"

"Not if something bad happens to. . ." She falters.

"Do you think something bad is going to happen to me?" He asked slowly. Olive nods again. "Bad things have been happening to me long before you were born, O." He chuckled bitterly. "That's not going to stop me from taking care of you, just because you got a few extra pounds of baggage. Trust me I've been there."

She hesitates, leaning away to get a better look at him, "I don't want to remember what happened with my mommy and daddy, but I always do anyway and I can't stop. I want to forget them," Her lips trembled, "I want to forget them, and the orphanage, and the bad man in the woods. It all hurts and I can't stop it."

"I know. . ." Dean whispered, "I can't forget my parents either, or my little brother. I don't think I could ever forget what happened to them. ." He swallowed thickly, eyes distant. "But if I forget them then I won't remember all the good. I had a lot more good memories with my mom and brother than bad ones. So I have those, whenever I feel sad."

"But I don't have any good memories."

The five-year-old's memory didn't go farther than the days before she lost her parents.

By this point, she had forgotten the sound of her mother's voice and the way her father always smelled like something sweet.

She had forgotten the color of her house and the song on the piano her father used to play her before bedtime.

The only thing she had to remember was the picture folded at the bottom of her backpack—but even then, that memory was slowly fading away.

"What did they do to you, Olive?"

Dean couldn't help but push the subject, he needed to understand how someone so young can go through such horrible things and still be standing.

He needed to know why she could blast demons with nothing but raw power, only to break down in the middle of the street over something as simple as how fast a car moves.

He needed to know why Cas seemed so scared of her. Should he be scared of her? The demon in the cabin told him that if he knew what she was, he'd hunt her too.

But that can't be true, can it? In Dean's mind, there was nothing in this world that Olive could be that would make him pick up a knife and harm her.

Nothing.

"Can't." Olive pushed off from the ground with sunken eyes, feeling guilty for not being able to tell him.

Dean follows, brushing his hands on his pants, "S'alright," He picked up the phone and the cloth, sending her a reassuring smile, "Get in the car, we'll grab a motel for the night."

"Promise we'll go slow this time?"

"I promise."

‧₊ ❁ཻུ۪۪.;:୭̥.┊

The hot sun beat down on the hood of the Impala where Olive sat impatiently. They stopped at a gas station so Olive could change into normal clothes and Dean could get some gas.

She was forced to discard Dean's leather jacket and was now wearing a multi-stripped t-shirt with a pair of jean shorts and her sparkly pink sneakers.

She had to squint every few seconds, her head locked on the door as she waited for Dean to emerge.

He sported a black shirt covered by a simple flannel that was rolled to the sleeves, a pair of jeans, sneakers. When he did step out, he had to open the door with his back, his arms filled with things they might need for the drive to Indiana—which was mostly junk food and drinks, and a pair of black sunglasses over his eyes that still had the tag on them.

He threw the supplies in the backseat and reached into his back pocket, pulling out a sparkly pair of pink sunglasses. Olive took it happily, the tag still hanging from the side just like his.

"Thirsty?"

"Milkshake?"

"Capri Sun." He corrected, throwing a silver pouch in her direction that she scrambled to catch before it dropped to the ground. Dean leaned against the car as he pumped the gas, "Guy inside said there was a motel down the road, we can sleep there and get back out by morning."

"How long will that be?"

"Hopefully not too long." They fell into silence, Dean looking towards the road as he pumped gas and Olive looking anywhere and everywhere that piqued her interest and she drank.

There was like an unspoken agreement between the two of them.

One, they won't take about the night in the woods anymore, putting it behind them.

Two, they wouldn't ask each other questions about their past unless they wanted to share—and Olive wasn't sharing anytime soon.

Dean will just have to wait until Cas came to fix everything.

Some wounds were obviously deeper than others but they understood what the other was going through, sort of. Olive had promised to tell him whenever she didn't feel one hundred percent which was enough for Dean.

"Hey, Dean?"

He looked away from the monitor, removing the pump, "Yeah?" He put the gas pump back in place before turning to face her.

"What's Lisa like?" Her voice was always light and airy, high and slurred like she struggled to say even the smallest of words. It was adorable.

He clapped once with his hands for her to jump and she easily slipped off the roof and into his arms, he putting her down and opened the car door.

"She's really pretty," He starts off, waiting as she slid in stomach first before getting in after her, pushing the supplies between them. "I met her a while ago, we had. .an awesome night—"

"Did you guys played checkers?"

He blinked. "Uh— no."

"Then what did you guys do?" She tilted her head, the sunglasses slipping to her nose.

"We— uh— just hung out. Nothing serious." He cleared his throat and started the car up, "I didn't see her for a while after that, but Sam and I were in town on a case and I knew she lived around there so I stopped by."

"What was the case?"

He hesitates. "Changelings, they look like people, but their true form is way uglier. Slimy skin and sharp teeth. We killed the mother with fire and the others dropped like flies but uh, after helping Lisa and Ben we hit the road."

"So they know?" She questioned. He nods, "That must have been scary." She mumbled. "Wait. If you left and never went back until now, how do you know Lisa's gonna be there?"

"I'm sure I would have figured something out." He shrugged. "Besides, I know for a fact that she's still there."

"Okaaay." She tilted her head, "But how do you know she wants you to be there?"

Dean wouldn't lie. It's crossed his mind so many times that the fear of rejects constantly makes him want to turn back. "If she doesn't want me there, then I'll figure something else out. Either way, you're stuck with me."

Olive smiled at this, reaching for a granola bar and unwrapping it. "Trust me," She took a big bite, "I don't mind." But to Dean it sounded more like 'I on't ind.' and he found it adorable.

The Midnight Motel was a cheap Motel slightly off of the highway, painted three different shades of blue, and the large red O in 'motel' busted. Not many cars took up the parking lot.

Either way, the day was coming to an end and although Dean didn't mind sleeping in the car— or not sleeping in general— but he had to consider the fact that Olive was with him and he wasn't going to make a five-year-old sleep on leather when she barely liked cars in the first place.

"One room."

The old woman behind the counter looked like she hated the world. Her wrinkled face was naturally tugged into a frown and her brown eyes were dull as she slouched herself over a crossword puzzle. Her name tag said Marge and she wore the standard granny clothes that smelled like cigarettes and candy that no one ever seemed to know the name of but knew it anyway.

She looked up from the crossword. "We only take cash."

Dean shrugged, pulling out his wallet and slapping down a hundred, "That should cover the night?"

Marge pocketed the money without shame. "Sure thing." She handed him a random key, stopping halfway when her eyes caught Olive's.

She had been standing behind Dean literally clutching the loose jean fabric of his pants when she popped her head out in curiosity.

"Cute kid." The woman stated simply.

"The cutest." He brushed off, sidestepping the woman's view, "The word across is Brad Pitt, by the way."

The woman grounded her stained teeth. "I was getting there."

Dean smiled bashfully, key in one hand and the other holding Olive's. "Sorry. . .Goodbye."

"She was creepy," Olive said the second they stepped out.

"All old people are creepy." Dean shrugged.

"But you're not creepy," She reassured.

He stops dead in his tracks, "I am thirty-one! Not old!" He states.

"Sureee."

The pair settled into room 6 which thankfully wasn't too far from the car. Unfortunately for them, the AC wasn't working and both of them were scared to talk to the woman at the desk.

They decided to watch some local TV which got boring quickly, it seemed like both Dean and Olive enjoyed cartoons more than politics.

By 7:30 Dean was forcing Olive into the bath.

It quickly turned into a problem when Olive admitted that was horrified to take a bath by herself.

And that was how Dean was stuck sitting behind Olive in the small bathtub, washing her hair out with shampoo. He wore a pair of boxers and a white undershirt while Olive wore his shirts— thankfully the shirt went down to her knees.

It was barely a bath but at least Olive was getting cleaned without thinking she was going to drown.

"Hold still." He mumbled, scooping water in a cup and pouring it in her hair. She whined when the soap ran down her face and stung her eyes. "I keep telling you to close your eyes."

"You didn't count to three!"

"You didn't ask me to!"

"Dean—"

"Do you even know how to count to three?"

"Yes! One, four, two, three!"

"Alright, alright. Quit your whining."

He swiped the soap from her eyes with his thumbs and she opened them seconds later.

"See? Told you this would work."

Almost comically they both looked down the side of the tube, water and soap covering most of the floor and soaking the rug.

"Is that allowed?"

"Who cares? She pocketed my money."

"Hey, Dean?" She spoke up after a moment of just sitting.

"Mhm?" He opened one of his eyes, his head still rested against the wall.

"What was your brother like?"

Dean slowly lifted his head, almost dreading the conversation. He had mentioned Sam more than once so it wasn't unlikely that she'd ask about it.

"He was. . smart, even went to college for a bit. Sam was more of a teddy bear than I was, always knew what to say, always knew when something wasn't right. . .he was brave. ." He shrugged, eyes distant. "He was my little brother, you know? I-I always tried to look after him, protect him. That's how it's always was."

There was a heavy silence between them. "I'm sure I would have loved him." Olive smiles. "He seems like the bestest ever."

"Yeah, I'm sure you would have been two peas in a pod."

Dean starts to imagine how different things would have been if Sam walked through that door right now.

Maybe Sam would know how to help Olive, maybe it would be easier.

He splashes some water at her. "What about you, huh? What was Sophia like?"

Olive's eyes sparkled. "She used ta play superheroes with me! She says she has the same last name as Spider-man because they're related but I didn't believe her." She giggled. "She used to make funny faces and-and mess with my hair for good luck." Her smile started to fade. "She was nice."

"So that's your legal last name? Parker?" Olive nods her head. "Do you even know your first last name? From before Sophia?"

Olive thinks for a moment before shaking her head.

"How am I supposed to figure you out if neither of us knows who you are?" He mumbles.

She smiles and quickly stands up from the bathtub, hopping out and running out of the room.

"Olive wait! your towel—aaand you don't care, got it." Dean sighed and stood up from the bath.

Leaning against the bathroom door with a towel over his waist, Dean crossed his arms to stop his shirt from dripped water on the carpet.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

Olive rammed through her bag, throwing her clothes to the side and lightly placing a cream-colored teddy bear on the bed. She picks up a picture, "Look." She unfolded it and held it out.

Dean pushed himself off of the door frame, dropping her towel over her head and grabbing the picture.

It was pressed at the middle, which means it had been folded and unfolded many times. A family of three sat down on a large blue sofa, the brunette woman was the first to catch the hunter's eye.

Her small frame and bone structure made her look a little too young to be a mother. But it was all in the eyes that made him understand how old she really was, a dull tired brown.

She seemed to barely hold a smile but it was still there. The man in the picture was a little older—eyes like Olive's. His smile was more genuine than the woman, and just like his features, he seemed soft and kind, like her, who sat between them.

The brightest smile of them all came from the toddler in the photo, who was around two or three at the time, She was reaching towards the person behind the camera.

"These your parents?" He notes.

"Mm-hmm." She reached over and plucked it from his hands, flipping it over. There were three names written on the back.

Cora, Oliver, and Olivia Grace.

The person who took the picture also had a name, but it must have been scratched out because all that was left was a messily written G.

His eyebrows knitted together in thought. His eyes traveled to Cora again and he can't help but notice that she looks completely out of place, almost uncomfortable.

"There's no last name here." He mutters.

Olive tilted her head, "Is that bad?"

"No," He reassured, handing her back the picture, "Kinda uncommon though." Olive put the picture back in her bag as Dean picked up her teddy bear, "Who's this little guy?"

Olive quickly grabbed the teddy bear from him, "That's Goob! No touching!" She held it against her chest. "He only protects me, he doesn't work when someone else has him." She explained.

Dean scoffed a laugh, raising his hands in defense. "Noted." Children.

By the time Dean and Olive got dressed it was 8:00 and Olive couldn't stop yawning. Dean was nowhere near tired, but he had to remind himself that Olive's young brain was wired differently and her body shut down ten times quicker.

She still wore the same clothes, except this time she wore another one of Dean's shirts. He commented on how Olive was already stealing his clothes but she pretended not to hear him as she brushed her teeth.

"What did your brother look like?" Was the first question she asked when she settled into the bed, popping her head out from under the sheet as Dean sat on the edge.

Dean reached for his duffel bag under the bed, zipping the bottom pocket open and pulling out a leather journal.

Olive hadn't thought much of the journal, her eyes burning into Dean's side as he flipped through the pages before pulling out an old Polaroid photo.

Olive's grabs it gently, almost like she was scared to rip it. There were six people in this picture, two women and four men. They were all bunched together to fit the frame.

Olive's eyes swept through the faces.

"That's him. Isn't it." She pointed to the tall man beside Dean. Saggy brown hair, tall, and had the kindest hazel green eyes Olive had ever seen.

"Yeah, that's him." Dean smiled down at the photo.

"What about all the other people?"

Dean's smile faltered.

"Well," He cleared his throat and pointed to the man in the wheelchair, a baseball cap, and beard. "This is Bobby."

"He looks like Santa Claus." She noted.

"If Santa Claus drank beer and purposely ran over peoples feet with a wheelchair then yes, that's definitely him." Dean chuckled. "That's Ellen." He pointed to the woman in front of Sam, she had a motherly nature, Olive noted, but it looks like she had seen to many horrible things in her life. "This is Jo.." He falters slightly at the name, pointing to the blonde he had his arms wrapped around in the photo.

"She's prettyful." Olive smiled.

"Yeah, she was." Dean clenched his jaw. "Ellen and Jo died a few days before Sam did." He gave no further explanations.

"I'm sorry.." She mumbled. "Don't be sad, they're with Sophia now. .I'm sure she played superheroes with them too!"

He smiled. "I'm sure they did." He then trails his finger to the man on the left side. His eyes the brightest shade of blue, face stern but kind. He even wore a funny trench coat. "That's Cas."

Olive smiled brightly, grabbing the photo and staring at it. "Wow! He really is a pretty angel!" She laughed.

Dean swiftly snatched the photo, "Oh-kay that's enough past talk for the night. Get to bed."

"But—"

"Nope!"

‧₊ ❁ཻུ۪۪.;:୭̥.┊

Dean quickly finished the Devil's Trap before covering it with the carpet. He made sure that the salt lines were still intact and that the window in the bathroom was locked.

He sighs, shrugging on his leather jacket and fixing the collar, walking towards Olive's sleeping figure.

He took the silver anti-possession symbol from around his neck and lightly put it over Olive's head, she stirred and he paused.

She was a messy sleeper, hair tousled in every which way, mouth parted with light nasalized snores.

With one look back into the motel room, Dean stepped outside and locked the door, making his way towards his car.

The Hunter needed a break from everything, just a heavy drink and his thoughts for a few hours before he made his way back to the motel early in the morning before Olive woke up.

He sat at in a booth with a whiskey, fingers drumming against the table and he thought about his situation.

Tomorrow he'd see Lisa and Ben, that thought alone made his mind spin.

Olive had grown on him already and he hated it.

When Cas came back, which he will, Dean wouldn't be able to do anything if the Angels took her away.

Just another person he was going to let down.

And how was he going to hide Olive's powers from her, when he had no idea what they even were? What if she lashes out and hurts Lisa and Ben? What would he do then?

"You're too cute to look so sad."

Dean lifted his head as a young woman slid into the booth across from him.

She was dark-skinned with brown eyes and golden beads in her locs, which stopped at her bellybutton. She wore a cropped light brown strapless shirt over a pair of dark green cargo pants. She was smirking at him.

"This is my thinking face." He responds, taking a swing of his drink.

"Is there a difference?" She tilts her head, "Mm, sad thoughts?" She guesses.

"You could say that. I'm just here to get away for a bit, that's all."

"I can relate." She lifted her drink before taking a long sip. "I'm Maya."

"Dean." He greeted. "Look, I'm not looking for anything, but trust me it's not your fault." His eyes racked her body and she chuckled.

"Got a girlfriend or something?"

"Something," He repeats.

"Well that's alright, I'm not here for a good time either." Her all-American accent drops, turning into a thick scratchy Scottish tone as her eyes turned those disturbing shades of black.

Dean stiffened, reaching for the knife in his jacket.

"Ease up, Winchester. I'm just here on business."

He clenched his jaw, "Why do I find that hard to believe? Oh wait, that's because you're a demon."

"I thought Demon slander was last century?" She rolled her eyes.

"What do you want?"

"Well, I can tell you what I don't want." She smirks, "I'm here for something special."

"I have nothing to give you," He snaps.

"Not you." Maya says, "Someone else seems to be in your favor, Dean Winchester, and it's not your wee pretty angel friend."

His eyebrows knitted together.

"Surprised? So am I." She chuckled. "You have the little Guardian girl and everyone and everything wants to get their hands on her."

"Guardian?"

She laughed. "Wow you really have no idea what you're messing with, do you?"

Dean shook his head. He'll admit, if he can't get information out of Cas, he'll get it here.

"Of course not." She leans forward, "Look, it's not my job to explain anything I'm just a messenger."

She held up her fist and Dean stiffened, but she let her fingers dangle and a silver chain with a star charm swayed in front of him.

"The Guardian girl wears this at all times, got it? She doesn't take it off."

"Why?" He pressed.

"Because dingus, it's charmed. Not just any charm. burned with a wee Ancient Enohican symbols around it. She is dangerous in the wrong hands, Dean. To demons, angels. Even herself." She explains, "It cloaks her from all things from the bedtime stories. Demons, Vampires, Witches, you name it."

Dean clenched his jaw. "But not angels?"

Maya tilted her head in annoyance, "All angels but the ones she prays to. And the one who made it of course."

"So it is an angel. You just said she were dangerous in their hands," He jerks his chin towards the charm, "Who is it?"

She smirked, saying nothing.

"Well, no thanks," Dean replied cheekily, downing the rest of his drink. "I don't need help from a demon, especially if they work for an Angel. They must got you on a tight leash." Maya growled at that. "I can protect Olive on my own."

"Oh sure, cause you've been doin' such a good job so far haven' you?" She says lowly, "Leavin' a five-year-old all alone in a sketchy motel. Exposed to just about anything."

The hairs on his neck stand up, "How did you know that?"

"Like I said before." She shrugged, leaning back. "Everyone and everything wants to get their hands on her. You just gave them the perfect advantage."

Dean stood up, almost knocking the glass over as he quickly grabbed his things. "You son of a bitch. You were distracting me."

Maya stood, throwing the charm that Dean catches out of instinct. "Hardly."

She crosses her arms.

"You don't have much time before those demons get there," She continued, "You best keep her safe, so the person I work for will have no reason to reach out. Understood?"

Dean glanced at the charm before giving a stiff nod, running out of the bar. He shouldn't have been so stupid. Now Dean only hoped that Olive was still fast asleep in the motel room. Safe.

‧₊ ❁ཻུ۪۪.;:୭̥.┊

SIX DOORS DOWN IN MIDNIGHT MOTEL slept a little girl who had no idea of the horrors she was about to face at any given moment. She slept like a starfish, head practically dangling off of the side where she dreamed innocently of better times and favorite snacks.

A loud knock was a rude awakening for her. Olive stirs for a second and draped the sheets over her head, "Dean." She called softly.

He doesn't respond.

The banging grew louder.

She slams her face into the pillow, "Dean the door."

When she heard no movement behind her, she sat up groggily. Her heart sped up when she realized that the couch behind her was empty and the jacket on the chair was gone.

Did he leave me? It was the first assumption that popped into her mind, but her worries for Dean turned to panic when the person behind the door began to ram into it.

Olive jumped out of the covers, eyes wide.

"Dean?" She whispered, slowly walking towards the door as the banging echoed. Maybe he was locked out?

Olive froze, thinking it over. The silver key that was once on the table was gone now. Which meant wherever Dean was, he had it.

So whoever was behind that door wasn't Dean Winchester.

Olive didn't open the door, and she stopped calling out when she understood that she was most likely in danger. The five-year-old crawled up on the table that blocked the window, peeking out the curtain.

It was the old lady from early, the one who gave them the key, and two other men.

Why was she banging on the door?

Almost as if the woman could sense her gaze she turned sharply to Olive's direction. She choked on a scream when the woman's eyes turned a traumatizing black. They found her.

And Dean wasn't there to protect her.

Olive stumbled off of the table and crashed to the ground, frantically moving away from the door and trying to find a place to hide. The door is kicked down and this time Olive does scream.

The woman grinned. "Hello, Olivia." Marge hums, voice naturally hoarse.

Olive slowly walked backwards, arms out for anything to grab. Her fingers graze the teddy bear on the TV stand and she holds it up like a shield.

Marge laughed, but when she tried to step inside her legs froze, body going stiff.

Marge glared in annoyance. "Devils trap." She mumbled. "Get her."

The two men easily walked into the room, advancing towards her.

Olive's only choice was to run into the bathroom and lock the door.

The unknown men banged roughly on the door, pushing against the frame. All Olive could do was press her back against it, cry her eyes out and hold her teddy bear against her chest.

Something cold grazed against the inside of her shirt. It was the anti-possession symbol that Dean put around her neck earlier, but she didn't know what it meant only that it came from the person that she needed most.

So Olive clenched the symbol around her small fist. Hoping that Dean would save her.

What felt like hours was only a few minutes before the Impala came to a stop and Dean was already running towards the Motel. His blood boiled when he found the door open, advancing forward with Ruby's knife.

What Dean didn't know was that the old woman who was once stuck at the doorway was now gone, the only people that stood in his way between him and Olive was a pair of men who hadn't noticed him until he stepped in the room.

The men turned towards him and charged but what Dean hadn't expected was for them to open their mouths and display a set of sharp teeth.

They weren't Demons.

The first vampire advances for him but Dean easily moved to the side and elbowed its back, sending it out of the room. His machete was in the bag on the other side of the room and Dean couldn't do much damage until he got to it. Ruby's knife was easy for a stab and go, but a vamp could only die if their head was cut clean.

Dean rolled across the bed and ran to the bag, the second vamp grabbed him by the collar and pushed him down.

"I got him, get the girl." It calls to the other. The vamp grumbled before barricading into the door. "I'm gonna kill you, then eat your little friend." It taunted.

It wrapped his hands around the hunter's neck and Dean's eyes blurred as he reached for the bag beside him. With his fingers barely able to reach, He managed to pull the strap closer, his hands gripping onto the machete inside.

Dean swiftly slides the machete into the side of the vamp's neck. With a second hack, the head comes off the shoulders and drops beside him. Dean's face was splattered with blood, his throat hurt and his face was red from the lack of air but he still stood up.

It was like Olive could sense his presence. "Dean!" She cried. "Dean, in here!"

"Stay there!" Dean bellowed. The second Vamp and the hunter squared before Dean made the first move.

He was beyond pissed now.

Face firm with rage and determination, he slashed forward. It was almost like the vamp taunted him, moving from side to side.

The cockiness of the vampire was what caused him to slip up, stepping right in Dean's line of fire. The Hunter swiped the machete across, cutting the head clean off. He stood there for a moment, breathing unsteady as his thoughts blurred with murderous intent.

"Olive?" He croaked out. Dropping the weapon and jiggling the door. "Olive it's me."

There was hesitation on the other side.

"It's okay," Dean says softly, finally able to catch his breath. He leans his forehead on the door, closing his eyes to gather himself, "I'm here, O. I'm here. . .they can't hurt you."

The door slowly peeled open revealing a sniffling child and her teddy bear.

She appeared smaller than she already was, pale face and shakily body. How much more? How much more pain and fear can she live through?

"Dean!" She cries out, latching herself onto him like an anchor. As if she was afraid that letting go would cause her to sink and sink. "You came back!"

Dean squeezed her back tightly. As if he was scared that letting go would allow the world to rip her away, and he wouldn't be fast enough to catch her. His eyes watered as she crumbled in relief, but he knew that this wasn't the end, it never was.

At that moment, he missed his brother more than anything.

"It's okay, it's okay." He repeated like a broken record, dropped down and holding her. "It's over now."

"I wouldn't say over." Marge stood in the doorway of the room.

"Put this on." Dean orders to Olive, handing her the charm and standing up. Standing between her and the Demon like a shield. "Is this because I said Brad Pitt was the across word? Didn't know people were that invested in crossword puzzles."

Marge hummed bitterly. "No, but we can call that an added bonus. Did you really think that you could hide her from us?"

"I can now."

"And how's that?"

"Because you're going to be the last sorry black-eyed son of a bitch that ever sees her again." Dean snapped, and without warning her charges forward.

Marge rolled her eyes and lifted her hand, sending Dean flying back and into the wall.

She turned her attention to Olive who stood frozen in place, "Well let me get a good look at you," She curls her fingers under her's chin, "So powerful, yet so small. The last living Guardian. The things you could do."

"What kind of things?" Olive asks, voice shaken.

Marge paused, excited. "You don't even know?"

"Olive, don't listen to her!" Dean grunted, pushing up from the ground slowly.

"Oh, come on. Do you really think he can protect you? Olive, you can protect yourself and more. Think of all the things you can do with the help of someone just as strong. Lucifer. Help me and I can help you. I can make all the pain go away."

Dean struggled to break through her invisible force.

"Dean is weak. He couldn't save his mother. He couldn't save his father." Her black eyes shifted to Dean who shook with rage. "He couldn't save Sammy." She spoke lowly.

"I'm gonna kill you." Dean bellowed.

She was face to face with Olive, leaning down and giving her creepy smile, stained teeth and all. She scrunched her nose at the sight.

"I'll never help you," Olive said firmly. "Never ever!"

Marge's face pulled up in rage and with a growl she grabbed Olive by the neck, lifting her off of the ground. Olive thrashed in her grip, crying out.

"We're going to do this the hard way." She spat.

In a quick motion Olive was flung into the glass mirror, shattering it with her fragile body and dropping like a rag doll. Dean screamed out. Olive barely registered it before Marge picks her up again, this time by the arm and starts to drag her out of the room.

Olive panics. Her body was shaking, her face was twisted in fear as she tried to punch and kick her way out of the demon's grip. She looks between Marge and a thrashing Dean, feeling helpfulness.

It all felt like slow motion.

The feeling of glass scraping against her back made her chest heat up, "Leave. Us. Alone!"

She bellows, and like before, her eyes began to glow a bright yellow hue, but this time, her abilities felt powered up through the star charm around her neck, a small string of light crossing over her body like a silk string, burning the hands of the demon that held her.

Marge released the child with an agonizing scream, clutching her burned hand. The force around Dean finally stopped and the Hunter stood quickly, rushing forward and stabbing the knife straight through her back.

The Demon's eyes and mouth briefly glowed with orange flickering light before following to the ground.

Olive watched in horror as Dean continued to stab the demon. Murder and rage mixed in his hooded green eyes as he continued, the front of his body began to stain.

With each hit against the demon's body, he screamed out. Slam. Slam. Slam. Everything ounce of anger he felt bled on his own skin, on the ground, on his hands.

"Dean!" She cried out, horrifed.

He stopped. Olive looked more scared of him than all the things they've faced, eyes wide and parted lips.

Dean slowly looked down at his hands, coated in blood. He swallowed thickly before standing up. "O, I'm sorry. . I'm so—"

Her body crashes into his, latching onto him. She was bloody now too, but it didn't matter to her. She didn't care.

She didn't mind the inhuman look in Dean's eyes because violence was all Olive ever knew.

No matter what. . .He was still Dean.

"It's okay. It's over now." She stated airly, repeating his words in hopes to reassure him, mimicking his kindness even though she didn't know it.

At that moment Dean was grateful that the universe gave him Olive Grace.

"What was that?" She asks. She grabs the star around her neck with a twisted frown, "Was that me?"

"No," Dean says too quickly, shaking his head, "No, it was just the charm."

"Where did you go?" She continued, "You left me..."

"I'm sorry," He responds.

Olive hesitates, "Please don't do it again."

He nods, picking her up, "I won't do it again," He vows.

With her tightly in his arms, her legs around his waist and her head tiredly on his shoulder, they walked over the bloody corpses and left, never looking back.

‧₊ ❁ཻུ۪۪.;:୭̥.┊

IT WAS DUSK WHEN DEAN PULLED into the driveway of a very familiar brown house. The lamplight could be seen from the living room window in a warm glow that, in a way, made Dean feel at home. He looked away for a moment, the promise that he made with Sam echoing.

His tired green eyes drifted towards the sleeping girl beside him, his leather jacket wrapped tightly around her body like a blanket while she slumped to the side.

Her breathing was steady, which was a helpful reminder for Dean to breathe too.

Olive looked peaceful, considering the horrors she had to go through at the motel hours ago. How could she still look so peaceful? She wasn't. Her mind was replaying the last two days like a loop, and she wouldn't be surprised if she woke up screaming.

Dean looked away quickly, his eyes staring down the road. He was officially attached to the little girl.

A fatherly instinct had taking over him, one that he's never really felt before.

She reminded him of Sam.

It was him and her from this point on, nothing could tell him otherwise. They've gone through too much, which officially made her an honorary Winchester.

Castiel said she was dangerous. Maya said that she could bring danger. Dean says bring it on. He wasn't a big fan of either side and dropping her someplace without looking back made him clench his jaw in disgust.

If she was dangerous, who better than Dean Winchester to keep an eye on her? If she was broken, who better than Dean Winchester to try and save her?

Save her.

Maybe that was the issue. Cas had noticed it that night, too. Dean was trying to make up for not saving Sam and it might not end well.

"You're stuck with me." Dean repeated this promise from earlier. turning off the engine and looking towards her sleeping figure. "We're the only ones left..."

Dean Winchester was the last person Lisa Braeden expected to see on her doorstep that night, but once she pushed past the shock all she could feel was relief that he was safe.

"Hey Lisa." Although his voice sounded broken and strain, Lisa still felt a sense of safety wash over her.

She pushed open the door, her eyes wandering and landing on the sleeping child in his arms, the mop of brown hair pushed back far enough for Lisa to see the cuts and bruises all over her face.

She's taken back by the sight, seeing her small head resting on Dean's large shoulder, with one hand around his neck and the other gripping the stuffed tear bear in her fist.

Lisa's inhaled sharply, her eyes shifting into Dean's fearful ones. It was the fear that she would turn them away. The fear that she wouldn't accept him because he wasn't alone. But he wasn't planning on stepping into his new life without Olive.

She gave a shaky, understanding smile. "Oh, thank god. Are you okay?" She paused. "Are you both okay?"

A small smile tugged on Dean's lips, shifting Olive in his arms. "Yeah. . .Yeah we're okay. And, uh, if it's not too late, I. . ." Dean swallowed the lump in his throat. "I think I'd like to take you up on that beer."

Lisa's smile only grew. "It's never too late."

She moved away from the entrance and Dean shuffled inside. His feet dragged him towards the living room where he placed Olive down on the couch.

The absent feeling of the girl made everything come crashing down at once, no more adrenaline running through his veins. The only thing he felt was pain, pure overwhelming pain.

Lisa could instantly feel the shift in his behavior, her hands softly going around his shoulders. Dean let a few hot tears slip as he turned around and wrapped his arms around Lisa's waist, they stumbled slightly but Lisa didn't care.

"It's okay." She mumbled into his shoulder. Dean was able to let go, he was able to keep his promise to Sam and save the girl. He finally had a win, "Everything's gonna be okay."

And Dean believed her.

PUBLISHED, 05/17/2020 !
REVAMPED,  08/29/2022 !
WORD COUNT, 8,070 !