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“No,” Hermione yelled, not caring that they were in the middle of the war room and anyone could walk in them. “Absolutely not.”
“You don’t really get a say in the matter,” Dean yelled right back. “I just thought you ought to know what the plan was, out of courtesy.”
Hermione stared at him, her mouth agape. “Out of courtesy? You thought you would tell me out of courtesy?!” She shook her head, throwing her hands up. “And here I thought we had moved past this, that we were getting closer, that maybe…” she trailed off, leaving the question hanging in the air, unasked.
Dean sighed, the tension leaving his shoulders as the fight began to leave him, just a little. “We have, we are, it’s just, Hermione, Sam and I, we need to do this. The fate of the world hinges on us doing this one thing. If we don’t, that’s it. No more Earth.”
Hermione couldn’t help the tears springing to her eyes. She was always an emotional crier. “Why does it just have to be you and Sam? I can help. You know I can help.”
Dean moved closer to her so he could wrap his arms around her, pulling her tight against his chest. Being in his arm, inhaling his familiar scent, the feel of flannel against her cheek, she couldn’t help it and let go of everything she had been holding in.
“I know you can, but we all know Chuck only wants the two of us to show up. He will kill you on sight. I can’t risk that. If Sam and I are successful, we’ll save everyone.”
“If you’re not, you’ll die.”
“Nature of the job, sweetheart. You know this. You’ve been with us long enough.”
“I know but now…”
“Now.”
“It’s not fair. Just when I’ve realized--” Hermione cut herself off, unwilling to admit aloud for the first time what she was feeling.
“Realized what?” Dean encouraged.
Hermione sighed. “That I love you.”
She felt Dean tense beneath her. She knew it was a mistake to admit her feelings for the gruff hunter. While they had a mutual attraction, and they enjoyed warming one another’s beds at night these days, Dean had been so distracted by taking down God that he didn’t have time to contemplate what this whole arrangement meant. And it was terrible of her to put this on him now. Right before he and Sam went off to what could be the final battle of all existence.
She moved to pull away, embarrassed, waiting for rejection, when he spoke up.
“I love you, too,” he said quietly. “Which is why this is so damn hard, and why it’s so damn important Sam and I win. Because when this is all over, and I come limping back here, I am going to retire and live the rest of my days with you.”
Hermione pulled back, and looked Dean in the eye. All she saw was love and sincerity. She rose to her tiptoes and placed a soft kiss on his lips before burrowing back into his chest. Memorizing his smell. Because in less than an hour he would be on the road. And her gut told her, he was not coming back.
