Oya worked better when she was always busy. Hunting alone quickly became something she started to despise when came the moment to sleep. Oya couldn't sleep on her own. She would take a quick power nap, make sure she could at least carry her hunt to completion but she avoided the bed for as long as possible. It was a trap, a bee's trap with nightmares as a reward. She would always wake up screaming and kicking and crying.
She would always look around her for a familiar face or a familiar weight but the bed would be empty. There would just be her. but it was minor. It was nothing compared to the thrill of the hunt she had when she went alone. She could endure the nightmares if that meant she saved lives.
Hunting alone was a moment she was looking forward, after a month or so spent hunting with Dean it felt good to go back to solo cases. She would centre herself, retreat inside and think. Oya's best friend and nemesis. Her thoughts. She thought a lot. She thought of her home, the bunker. She thought of the people in it, filling her heart with joy and love. She thought of her family and their well-being. Of course, she'd check on them, a text here, and there, to make sure they were okay. She'd give them news about her whereabouts and she would miss Dean and his arms, his lips, his laugh. She would tell him...
Rince, repeat.
Oya worked better when she was always busy, but when the case forced her to slow down, then her mind wandered. When at first her thoughts were focused on her pain, they slowly but surely shifted to something different. She was thinking of the bunker and the boys, most of the time. She was thinking of home.
//All the usual disclaimers
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