It always was in the simple things that you could tell if someone cared for you or not. Oya noticed that it didn't matter how exhausted both where or how much their bodies ached, they would still end up the night the very same way. He would pull her into a hug, watching as her breathing became steady and she quickly fell into a deep state of slumber. He would watch after her dream, having mastered the art of sleeping for a fewer needed time than Oya did. He would stroke her cheek, run his hand into her hair and kiss the top of her forehead as she would start to move, sign that she was having a nightmare. He would look at her, like this apple pie he had always dreamed of, knowing full well that what little they had could be taken away at any moment. He would watch as she was peaceful in her sleep, reassured by his presence and comforting kisses and would wonder about the dangers hiding in the dark. And in the middle of his nightly routine, he would feel her hand stroke his chest, as if she'd knew he was worried about her life while in fact she simply was looking for contact. Simple things....simple things.
It didn't matter how much he'd wish he was sleeping on his own so she wouldn't kick him when she was going through a very rough nightmare and wouldn't wake up screaming and crying. It didn't matter how exhausted he was then because Dean would wake up and he would comfort Oya. He never failed to. She noticed the way he would quietly put her back to sleep, the fact he would listen to her talk until it became too difficult to fight the urge to fall asleep. She knew he didn't have to, but he always did anyway because he wanted to. And when he was the one asleep and she was still wide awake, no matter how exhausted she was, Oya would return the same. She would stroke his cheek with the back of her hand, she would run her fingers in his hair to massage his scalp. She would plant kisses on top of his head and contemplate his presence in her life, his warm body next to hers, entwined in a simple but warm embrace. She would wonder what she did to get so lucky and then dismiss it because not knowing made it better. She relished and enjoyed every single moment spent with Dean because she knew damn well what it was to lose someone you cared about. She was afraid that maybe, eventually, he would be dead in his next mission. She was afraid that, because of her, he would be unhappy. She wouldn't want to hurt him. His death, the pain it would inflict to Sam and Castiel, the void it would leave behind was haunting her because she knew it could happen... with her luck, she was certain she would lose it. She would lose him.
But despite fear creeping into her heart, the hunter found herself feeling hopeful that maybe this time, she wouldn't have to lose her family. She wouldn't have to lose Dean. She wouldn't have to lose her heart. Maybe this time, the other shoe wouldn't drop and she would be allowed to live a life without fear. Ah... the fantasy.
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