Dean and Oya: We are hunters

A/N: All usual disclaimers!! Well, we both know she doesn't want him dead now do we? : sincerely "on the spot" short one. I just saw the pic and had to write something :p

xxxxxxx

#We are hunters. This is what we do.
Being hurt is part of the job, has always been. #

Tonight was a bittersweet success. It wasn't so much the fact Dean was injured. Bruises, cuts, wounds they were used to it. No, it was the fact they weren't able to save innocent bystanders. Witnessing the teenage boy and his father die in front of them left a bad taste in their mouths. Dean took a severe beating from the rugaru they were hunting. it was nasty to see but it was heartbreaking to read in his eyes the guilt of not being able to save those innocent lives. They kept the conversations small, mostly requests " A beer?" or "dibs on the shower- to let the other know what they needed to know but silence engulfed them.

It was a close call. A little bit more and Dean would have died, killed by a rugaru in front of her very eyes. He didn't. She knew that he didn't but it didn't prevent Oya to see the scene play before her very eyes while she was taking the shower. Dean chugged down some beer, defeated despite their victory and didn't have at heart to start a conversation. He simply laid on the bed, his clothes on and his beer on his side. She came back, her hair was wet from the shower but her body dried up and wrapped around one of his shirts. His eyes wandered over her frame as she walked closer to the bed, ignoring the second bed that always came with the room since he wasn't sure she would want to sleep next to him. He never took it for granted, she could decide she had enough of his face after all and to make it less awkward, a second bed was best OR maybe it was just a habit from hunting with Sam. Dean didn't care at this moment.

#Yet there is some type of hurt you never quite get used to.
Seeing you hurt was one of them.#

He shrugged when he felt Oya sit on the bed next to him and then lie on her side. Her hand would wander over his chest, feel the freshly bruised skin of ribs that took a hard hit. Her feather touch then went on his neck and his face she helped clean moments earlier. He could see how worried she was despite her not saying anything and he grabbed her hand. His nose rubbed against her wrist and he gently put it away. He didn't feel like being cuddly. he didn't feel like being close to her like she needed because after all if that kid and his dad died it was because of him. Oya knew he was beating himself up, she could see it in his eyes and refused to let him face the situation on his own. There would be no words exchanged but he would know he wasn't alone.

#We are hunters. I am a seasoned one.
Every day we see guts, blood, gore, and death and get numb.
Every day we're used to Death...#

She rubbed her nose against his neck and put her hand back on his chest. Of course, Oya was upset. She wasn't able to save those people and she almost lost Dean. As great as they were at their jobs, an accident happened and she would carry those deaths with her, like the other people she couldn't save or lost. She persisted in her attempt at comforting him for their defeat. Dean furrowed his brow and grunted slowly but he wrapped his arm around her frame and pulled her into a hug. His hand ran through her hair and he started to massage her scalp while she planted soft kisses on his chest. Oya shrugged and leaned her chin on his chest as it was heaving up and down. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arm around his chest, her breathing steady and calmer. He was alive and for her, despite them losing other lives, she felt relieved he still had his.

#I don't want your Dean. Not now, not ever.#