Doya: We can't always win

Doya: We can't always win

A/N: A small nothing, because I thought of our babies. 

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Dean came back from his last mission with Sam and found Oya in their room, training as she always did. However, he realized that she had been training for way too long as her fists were blood-soaked, and her bandages were stained with blood. He noticed the fresh scars on her back and shoulder blades, barely covered by her sports bra and the few elements she broke in the room, such as a picture of her, Dean took a while ago and had framed for the both of them. Something went wrong. The Winchester dropped his bag -the noise didn't even alert the hunter- and quickly walked towards Oya.

« Oya... » He announced himself, so she wouldn't be startled by his presence near her. She nodded but kept kicking the air. « What the hell, Oya? » He said loudly, forcing the petite hunter to stop kicking and finally notice him.

The pain slowly crept back into her brain, making her painfully aware of how exhausted she was and how overworked her body was. She dropped her head and closed her eyes. Dean came closer and grabbed both arms of the woman. Worried sick, he shook her up before she opened her eyes again and set them on him. She was upset, he could tell by the way she was stiff and her eyes were red from tears she probably shed when he wasn't here. He could see regret in her eyes, and guilt, the very same he felt when Bobby died and it was enough for him to know that her last mission went awfully wrong. People died. She shook her head, unable to speak through pain and gently laid her head against his chest. Dean wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her into a tight hug. She relaxed against his chest and sniffled. Oya rarely cried but he knew she needed to vent, so he didn't say anything. Instead, he let her weep against him, his left hand found a way into her heavy black locks while his right one was holding her into place.

He was here, so she could stop beating herself for the death of these kids she wasn't able to protect. How could she defeat a demon this strong, on her own? Her crippling fear of those creatures already made casualties she would never be able to get over with. Kids... she let kids die -well, she was bested by the demon but it still felt as if she was the one who let it happens. Dean shrugged and gently planted kisses on top of her head as he wanted to comfort her. He knew she was having a hard time, not just because of the bruises and the dried blood on her body, but also because she wasn't even talking to him. It was unlike Oya to not greet him, even when the day was tough and the hunt was difficult, she always said something. Today she simply couldn't and he knew that her trauma was bigger than she let on. She had to watch the worst happen, she had to take it personally and make herself responsible for the catastrophe. He knew she was blaming herself for failing, just like he would. As the petite hunter sobbed against the taller man, he gently walked her to the bed where he laid her on her back, carefully making sure she wasn't hissing in pain or too uncomfortable given her bruises. She did snarl, but when he tried to leave the bed in order to get her something more comfortable to wear or lay on, she held his arm and shook her head. Oya couldn't care about comfort as long as Dean was with her. So he changed his mind and laid next to her.

They remained there in silence, with him stroking her arms while she wept against him. It pained him to see her this distraught, but he knew that the best he could do in a moment like this one was to be there with her. Words couldn't mend broken hearts, but actions could. His warmth or hers, his smiles or hers, his...heart and hearts. All he could do was show he was here for her and she was safe with him. He would wait until she felt good enough to speak just like she did. Dean wouldn't sing to Oya, not when she was in shock like right now. He would hold her instead, hold her tight. He would make her listen to his steady heartbeats. He would anchor her back to reality, sometimes with kisses, sometimes with his hands roaming over the soft and toned skin of hers. And it worked... it always worked. Just like her singing appeased the man, his caresses did the same to her. After a couple of hours, when Oya was finally able to calm down, Dean sat on the bed. She pulled herself up and leaned against the headrest.

« They were just kids Dean.... babies... I couldn't protect them. » She finally let out, while her fingers fidgeted against the hem of his shirt.

« We can't always win, Oya. That's the ugly part of our job. We can't protect them all...The most innocents of us all always get the shorter end of the stick...And there's no real reason for this shit. » He said, looking up at the ceiling in hopes Chuck could hear him.

« I know...It sucks...Dean, they were too young to die,,, » She said, wiping her tears off of her face, with the back of her hand.

« I know, O.... but you've punished yourself enough already. » She nodded and rolled her eyes, but he was right. She had punished herself enough and had to deal with the pain she ignored for way too long. « Let's grab a shower and I'll take a look at your wounds? » She nodded and as he stood up, she followed him and wrapped her arms around his waist. « There, there...Leave it to me. » He planted a kiss on her forehead and quietly took her to the shower. Tonight, he would be taking care of her, no matter what.

-TBC-