"I'm dying." *
"No."
She shifted back a few steps, he shaky hand reaching for her lips he constantly complimented her on. It wasn’t possible, it couldn’t be. They’d just met almost a month ago and there was no way Rebekah was going to lose him, not like this. Since the moment they’d met he’d been there for her, he’d been her rock as she trained and learned everything he had to teach her. She was who she was because of him, thanks to him.
“Dean.. There has to be something we can do. There’s always something. You- You’ve overcome this before, you can do it again!”
Hunting skills weren’t the only thing she’d been learning. Every single one of his stories left the girl in complete awe, a small hint of envy that she wasn’t there to witness them sometimes took over. Her head shook continuously as her eyes contemplated everything around them to avoid any type of eye contact. She was strong, but she was still a girl. A very hormonal one at that.
”We are going to fix this. We are going to fix this if it’s the last thing I do, okay? Don’t you dare die on me, Winchester. The only way you will be dying is if I kill you on one of my bitch fits that you love so much.”
Tears were beginning to border her bottom lids and her nose was cherry red but that was as far as she would go. She wasn’t going to cry, she couldn’t. But she couldn’t just stand there either. Ignoring the rules of being graceful and feminine, Rebekah ran to him, wrapping her arms around his torso and digging her face in the space between his shoulder and his neck. No tears allowed, Bekah. None.
”You’re not dying on me, you handsome little prick.”
