it was getting late ––– not late enough that dean was thinking about saying screw it and just making breakfast, drinking coffee and waiting until the morning, but still ––– late enough to be considered an acceptable time for him to haul his ass into bed and find some crap tv show or sitcom to watch. sam was off doing some nerd thing that happened to be important to him at that particular time and dean was pretty damn sure he’d heard shelby come in a little while back and head for bed; so that meant he was free to grab a beer and take a load off ––– make like broccoli or some shit.
said beer in hand, dean popped the cap and took a refreshing gulp before making a happy smacking noise with his lips and followed it up with a satisfied ‘ahh’ before he turned, grabbing a bag of chips to keep him company, and made his way toward his room. navigating the bunker was second nature to him at this point, making his way down the long corridors and passing room after room, wooden door after wooden door, that all lead somewhere different. one particular door that he had to pass to get to his own room was his daughter’s room and upon walking toward it, dean paused briefly to peek inside the door as he always did whenever he was home at night ––– he’d been doing it ever since she’d been born and he wasn’t likely to stop anytime in the NEAR future.
a sound that met his ears as he cracked the door silently open was one that he was tuned into ––– almost as though his heart knew exactly the sound and understood that it meant that his little girl NEEDED him. the sound of sniffles and muffled crying hit dean like a ten ton weight and almost instantly a concerned look took over his face as he pushed open the door further to let the corridor light into his daughter’s room, placing his beer bottle and bag of chips on the first available surface ––– which happened to be a dresser ––– before stepping further into the room taking in his baby girl’s face.
sure, his little angel wasn’t a baby anymore, but she was his kid and she’d always be dean’s little girl. as he walked toward her bed he took in her tears, grabbing a box of tissues off of the nightstand and sat by her side, pulling out a tissue to hand to her, his arms open and welcoming should she choose the preferable option of hugging it out with her old man. a free hand reached out to brush some stray hair back from shelby’s face as dean gave his daughter the softest and certainly the most concerned look he had in him. something ––– or someone ––– had upset his little girl and he was gonna be there to find out what had happened.
❛ hey––hey––hey, what’s goin’ on?
–––––––what’s got my baby girl so upset, huh?
y’wanna TALK about it? ❜
–––––––––––––@goldcnheart !
