Dean tossed once more, readjusting the blankets and crossing his arms. A look at the alarm on his bedside table told him it was about to be midnight, and the side of his bed was still empty. It took another toss, an attempt to clear his head, and one more look at the clock for him to decide he’d had enough.
Silently, he grabbed the robe hanging by his desk chair and slipped on a pair of untied, old boots. He had almost reached the door before his steps faltered, and his eyes traveled over the dark shadows of the room. Carefully, he walked to the other side of the room and opened your duffel bag, taking out what he needed.
The bright neon sign of the hotel shone painfully in his eyes as he stepped outside, a cloud of white crystals knitting itself out of his lips with each breath he took. The Impala was quiet, its shiny black coat blending in with the coal exterior, but the glow from the buildings next to the motel allowed Dean to see a figure sitting behind the wheel.
With a small sigh, he walked to the passenger’s side of the car, almost flinching as he pulled at the icy door handle and slipped inside. Your shoulders were tense, and your back hunched as you let your forehead rest against the wheel, hands clutching at it.
“You’re going to get sick,” Dean said softly, cautiously scooting closer to you.
“I know,” you replied, voice muffled slightly, but you didn’t look up.
“I have the keys. Do you want me to turn on the heat?” You shook your head. “Okay… Okay, well, I brought you this.”
He nudged your arm slightly, a soft jacket brushing against your elbow. You took a deep breath in and then let it out, finally straightening up. Without looking at him, you took the jacket and put it on, falling back against the seat.
“I know,” you said quietly. “I’m sorry, too.”
“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. You were right; I was just being an idiot, and—”
“Dean, it’s all right. We both said some stuff I’m sure we regret. Nobody was right,” you sighed, turning him. “Look, I’m stubborn and I needed time to think, that’s all. But I’m really tired and all I want to do right now is—what’s that?”
“Oh, um…” Dean chuckled weakly, looking down at the pink stuffed toy in his hands. “I, uh, I wasn’t sure what it would take to get you to come to bed, so I kind of thought this would help me. Just in case. I know it’s your favorite, baby.”
“It’s the only one,” you mumbled, ears heating quickly as you took the small teddy bear from his hands. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Please, honey, I’ve seen the giraffe, too,” Dean smiled, wrapping an arm around your shoulders as you groaned. “I was sort of going to sing a dumb song with Winky so you would forgive me, but I’m glad that’s not happening anymore. We good?”
“Always, but you even know her name?” you whinned, pressing your cheek against his warm chest as a form of hiding your blushing cheeks.
“Sam told me.”