Heartstopping

Who: Dean and Lullaby
Where: School/home/the orphanage
When: Afternoon

History class never held Dean's interest, even at the best of times. And today was no exception. Third row back, not near enough the window to even stare out at the snow, he sat, leaning his right arm on the desk as he flicked the little heart pendant he wore on a long piece of thong leather wrapped again and again around his wrist back and forth between two fingers, feeling the pulse of Thia's heart from it, a beat at a time. Sometimes he just stopped playing and held it against his fingers, closing his eyes slightly and just concentrating on the beat of her heart.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thumpthumpthumpthumpthumthumthuthuthuthu...

Suddenly he felt her heart rate pick up and he stilled, tensing, the drone of the teacher in the background so much waffle as he concentrated on the small pendant, wondering what he was feeling. Her heart was racing - it was definitely racing. He just didn't know why. It was all he could do not to reach for his phone there and then - or walk out of class. Worry surged up inside and he tried to keep a lid on the stress as the lights in the room flickered slightly, before coming back to full brightness - something that probably only he had even noticed.

He sat out the rest of the class, fingers over the pendant - her heartbeat was up for at good ten minutes and it was still beating fast when the bell rang and Dean tried to stand without letting go of the pendant. That really wasn't working for him, so he flipped the thing down, holding his right hand toward the ground so that it was resting against the start of his right palm as he collected his things one handed and headed out - only for her heartbeat to stop altogether as he left the room.

He headed away from his next class, all thoughts of going forgotten as he pulled his phone from his pocket as her heartbeat started up again. It was only that that had him texting her, rather than calling Oz in a panic and asking him to find out what the fuck was going on. Where r u? What's wrong? <3 D was all he sent to her in the end, wanting speed over anything else.

When Lullaby got back to her room, she noticed fairly straight away that it was blinking. A little spike of dread hit her, wondering what it was, and vaguely? If she was in trouble. Rushing over to it, she sat on the edge of her bed and pulled up the message. Shit. Sorry Dean... she thought to herself. Yes, she was in trouble. Maybe. Probably. She keyed in a message immediately, though. Sorry, home, didn't mean to worry you. Talk when you get home? i love you <3thia She had to add in the bit about loving him, because she was definitely feeling the need to express it just then. She did, and she just...felt all kinds of bad on a whole host of levels.

The hallways started to empty as Dean slipped down the stairs and found a quiet corner where hopefully, given some luck, he wouldn't be noticed as not being in class. He dropped his bag to the floor and typed in his response, really wishing he could just call her. wot happened? i love u 2 <3 D he quickly sent, not buying that whole 'we'll talk when you get home' thing. Anyway, it wasn't like it mattered, if she didn't tell him, he could be home in ten and then they could have the conversation face to face.

Yeah, she didn't actually think that she'd be getting away with that so much. She sighed a little, and flopped over onto her side on the bed, looking at the screen. The screen of the phone he'd bought for her, that always kind of gave her little warm fuzzies. Not a text-conversation to have. Sorry. I'll tell you when you're home. It's okay for now.<3thia not that she was emotionally okay. She was still emotionally emphatically not okay. But still. It wasn't going to get worse til he got home.

Dean read the message and picked up his bag as he typed back a quick ok c u soon <3 D and sent it off, before slipping his phone back into his pocket and carefully heading off down the now empty corridors, trying to keep to the ways that he'd be able to slip out a side door best from. There was no way he was staying and suffering through even a couple more classes when something had clearly been going on - and it wasn't something that could easily be explained away as nothing to worry about at all. And she knew how much he worried, so if it had have been, she would have told him something, even if she couldn't do it in detail. So, no - he was going home. Right now.

She exhaled, reaching up to tug her fingers through her hair, which was starting to get what she considered long. For someone who'd had short hair for years, it was, anyhow. You know I didn't mean for you to leave school.<3thia she sent to him. Even if she knew that he was going to do what he was going to do, and that was just the way it was gonig to be. He was Dean, her best friend and dear love, and he was a stubborn bastard when he wanted to be. Plus, she knew he would ditch school for possibly any reason, and she knew she rated pretty high there, so...that was why she didn't' tell him he wasn't allowed to leave. He'd not listen anyhow.

Dean didn't even look at his phone as he heard it beep again - he figured it would only be her telling him not to leave school, possibly with an addon about the importance of education and why her stuff could wait. And he didn't want to hear it. He paused at the side door and looked out over the carpark, which was empty of people, thankfully. He left the building and skirted round to Sophie's car, which he'd got into the habit of parking at the side of the lot for this very reason - so he could more easily ditch when he needed to. It was a mindset thing.

He was starting to get used to winter driving, but he was still very careful as he headed home, pulling into the driveway and heading into the house. He knew Sophie would be home, but he had a certain amount of freedom when it came to his life and knew he'd only really get in the shit about things if he started failing classes. And anyway, this was important. He'd take a lecture, just as long as he could find out what was going on as he dumped his bag by the front door and kicked off his boot before taking the stairs up, figuring Thia would either be in his room or hers.

When she hadn't got an answer back, she'd set her phone back on her nightstand, then went to go stand by the window, looking out to watch him drive up. Vaguely, in the back of her mind, she wondered just how many people in the world had someone who would literally drop everything if they knew something was wrong with you. Probably not that many. She still felt really unsettled, sick to her stomach, even if it was all emotional, she knew she wasn't sick. She watched him walk across the drive and inside, and then she moved to go stand in her door, leaning against the frame to watch as he came around the corner from the stairs. She gave him the faintest of smiles, even if it was weak. "Hey." she said, voice soft. "I really didn't mean to derail your day."

"I was bored anyway - what's wrong," Dean asked her as he walked up, checking her up and down, his eyes catching on the wrapping around her hand and he stepped into her, taking her wrist as he met her eyes. "What did you do?" he asked her, already starting to lead her towards his bathroom so he could clean that up.

It was really one of the first times Thia wanted to tug her hand back. And she knew it was ridiculous, and that nothing was going to happen, and he was probably going to just clean her up, and that wouldn't in any way hurt him, but that twitch was there, whether she wanted it to be or not. She resisted, but he actually did have to tug her a little before she followed. "I was moving a crate in the orphanage." she said. "It bit me." she explained. "Pretty badly, really. Most of the splinter I got out, but there might be more in there." It hurt enough for that, she just was worried about other things. "Dean...we need to talk." she said. "I--you might want to let me clean this up."

Dean heard her, but he didn't let go as he led her into the bathroom and lifted her up onto the counter by the sink, standing in front of her. Then he answered - once he knew she'd be able to tell what he was saying, and as he ran a sink full of water to clean her up. "Thi - I'm quite capable of cleaning up your hand. And I want to make sure you got all the bits of splinter out," he told her, unwrapping the covering from her hand so that he could look at the cut.

There was always part of her that liked when he did that, just moved her around, and now was no different. And the stubborn streak that he was showing pretty much across the board at the moment, even brought a light little smile to her lips. That was him, her Dean. She drew in a breath and let it out slowly. "It's about that though...I found out something that wasn't in the book today." she told him. And she still had trouble just coming out with it, so she got stuck there, eyes ticking down to his hand as it held onto hers.

He got the first aid kit out from underneath the sink and started to clean up her wound as he listened to her talk, his concentration on that until she said she'd found out something that wasn't in the book - then he looked up at her face. "Yeah?" he asked, still not really stopping in what he was doing as he started to probe for bits of splinter. "What's that? And tell me if this hurts," he sdded, poking around with the pad of his thumb.

Thia wrinkled her nose at that. "That hurts." she told him, though really, in the grand scheme of things, it was so incredibly minor that it barely counted. Bleeding to death from more wounds then you could count? That hurt. "It's about my blood." she said. God this was hard. She bit at her lower lip then drew in a deep breath, and just blurted it all out in a ramble. "I was at the orphanage, and I went to move a stupid crate and got this huge sliver and I yanked it out and just dropped it and later I noticed that some rats had come out to check it out but they were dying and then other rats showed up and I just watched and some more did and then I squeezed some blood out where one was eating one of the other ones and it died pretty much instantly and I think my blood's all toxic. Poison. Really, really effective poison."

Dean had been reaching for a pair of tweezers to squeeze out the splinter when she said that and he stopped, still holding her hand in his left, just having picked up the tweezers with his right as his eyes batted to her face. He thought of all the times she'd bled on him - far too many, though just the once would have been far too many in his opinion. But she'd bled on him and he was still here, he'd been fine. But still - it wasn't every day you got told your girlfriend thought she was poison. "You sure?" he asked, carefully, before going back to what he was doing.

She hadn't known quite what he'd do, and realized after he didn't let go for even a moment that that's what she'd expected. For him to step back, for him to drop her hand and put distance between them. It would have been a logical reaction, or so she thought. She nodded, watching him closely. "I'm sure. We could go back and repeat the experiment, but...I don't really want to." she said. "If you think we need to do it to be sure, okay. But...I'm pretty sure. I just...I don't see what else it could have been. Especially not when I dripped the blood down there, and just...instant death." She tried to hold her tongue on it, but then asked, voice a light little whisper. "Are you sure you want to keep doing that?"

Dean didn't even stop what he was doing for a moment as he squeezed at her skin where he thought the splinter would be, trying to tease the tiny sliver of wood out. he knew it would hurt her, but it was the best way to do it and finally it popped free enough that he could grab it and pull it the rest of the way, setting it down on the counter before starting the clean the blood from her hand. He didn't stop - but he was actually being more careful about things. He looked back at her as he dampened a piece of cotton to carry on cleaning. "Yeah, I'm sure," he told her. "We've been in worse situations. And I'm still here. So, I'm sure."

She didn't say anything for a few long moments, before she drew in a breath, and let it out slowly. Leaning over a little, she rested her forehead against his shoulder, not really getting in his way, just needing that for a second. "I really don't know how to feel about this. I really...I just keep thinking about what could have happened, and how I'm going to have to be extra careful with BB, and everything, and I...don't know. I know I just...yeah I'm not making sense, sorry. I'll stop talking until I can put whole sentences together."

Dean concentrated on her hand and finishing off cleaning and dressing it. It was easier to have that to concentrate on, because he could feel the edges of his mind dwelling on rats eating her blood. No matter what the result, that thought was just - he didn't like that, that whole idea, that whole thing. He always did better when he had something to concentrate on, but unfortunately, the dressing didn't actually take him very long at all and then he had nothing to do with his hands, other than place them on the counter at her sides. And he had nothing to think about, but what she was worrying about. "Does BB draw blood playfighting very often with you?" he asked her, picking up on that.

"Sometimes." she said. "We'll need to get him declawed. Which I always thought was kind of mean to do to cats, but...if it keeps him alive?" she suggested, not quite looking Dean in the eyes there. She kept her forehead against his soulder instead, still trying to figure out a way to deal with this. But it just didn't become okay in her head. She couldn't come up with a way it was all fine. Even if Dean was dealing with it fairly calmly and all.

"Whatever you want to do," Dean agreed. He couldn't even say that was an overreaction - he wasn't sure that it was. he needed to be able to think this through, he could feel the threads, but couldn't quite put them together. He picked her up off the counter and set her back down on the floor, though she was quite capable of getting down herself, and led her by her good hand into his closet, that large, darkened room between his bathroom and bedroom, where they always ended up when they needed to talk about things. Pulling her down to the nest of blankets they'd set out on the floor some months beforehand, he got her comfortable in his lap, putting his arms around her and drawing her back against his chest.

She closed her eyes, and curled in against him, taking a few moments to feel warm, and safe, and protected. She always felt that way when they were in there together, but at the moment, she really needed it. "I don't know what to do with this." she said. "Talk to me? What're you thinking? You're being quiet." And he did that from time to time, generally when he was working things out, but she often had to prompt him to get him articulating what happened to be going on in his mind. Now was not a good time for her to not know what was going on in his head.

Dean didn't say anything for a few moments more, and when he did, what came out of his mouth wasn't entirely what he'd expected to say. "You've bled far too much. Since... you died. It's... But we're all still here. Me, Caleb, Oz - we've all been there and we're all okay. So, you're not..." he trailed off, just pulling her tighter against him, clinging onto that thought, though it wasn't fully formed or thought through.

She listened, and it was always a little jarring for her when Dean outright referenced her death. He didn't like doing it in general, and it was a topic they avoided more often than not. He was still carrying a burden from that, after all. "I know I have, I...I just keep thinking about it, and wondering what could have happened. And how careful I'm going to have to be now. I don't want to hurt anyone, and I don't...I'm--poison, Dean." she said, like that was just hitting her again, and it was. So she wasnt' dealing spectacularly effectively today.

Dean didn't say anything to that, and he didn't let her go either as he thought for a moment or two. "Tell me about the rats," he finally said, though inside a voice was declaring that he didn't want to know about the rats, he didn't want to hear about things that were going after her blood. And there was that rising voice that whated to know what the hell she was doing putting herself in that situation in the first place - but that voice was getting firmly ignored until this first issue had been worked out and dealt with.

She didn't want to talk about the rats as much as he didn't want to know about them, but she knew that she had to say. "They showed up to nibble at the splinter. And I was there, and just...I didn't notice at first? But then I did. And there were dead ones. And I saw one go to nibble at the splinter, and it died." she said, making herself talk about it. "And then they were eating each other. And where one was...feeding, I dripped blood down. And it died so fast...I went and sat down, and I could feel it? Little...bursts of death energy. I'm assuming when one got a taste of my blood, or something. Even if we take into account rat poison, or anything like that, it wouldn't have had that effect just by my dripping blood down, and it wouldn't be that fast."

Dean closed his eyes, feeling a little sick at the thought of rats vying for her blood like that. At the thought of anything doing that like that. It just turned his stomach. He took a moment, pulling himself together - she needed him to be the strong one here. "So, maybe... Maybe it's only, poison, if... Eaten..." he said, having to force that out. Yeah, he hated that idea - and it brought back memories of the second time she'd died. At the hands of vampires. Made him wonder what had happened to the vamp, but he wasn't going to bring that up unless he had to.

His putting it like that actually brought the vampire to her mind as well, and she stilled. "...do you know if anyone saw it?" she asked, shifting on his lap a little to look back at him in the dark. "When I--with the vampires, I know you didn't, and I know Joshua didn't, and Oz and Billy were with you...did Maddie see? Did Sophie? There was...I kind of always thought it was just something my head made up while I was...but..." The one who'd bit her had dropped. Faster than she had, even. She'd just always thought that was crazyness her mind had tossed in while she was dying.

Dean tensed slightly, biting at his top lip. "I don't know," he said, his voice sounding a little odd. He'd never asked - he didn't want to know, he didn't talk to people about her deaths if he could ever avoid it. And he'd especially never talked to anyone about that one. Not even Joshua when they'd been stuck in that damn cage together. "Maybe, I... don't know."

"I remember the one who bit me," she said, automatically reaching up where she knew the scar from it was. Where she'd less been 'bitten' and more 'got her throat ripped out'. "It...dropped. Fell, before I did, even. I always thought I just made that up in my head. That I imagined it. But if this is true, if my blood is that toxic? Then maybe I didn't." Which gave her a sharp, ugly stab of satisfaction, that she'd killed the bastard who'd killed her. And she'd done it first. It had died before she did. Sure, only by a few seconds, but still. Enough that she saw it drop.

Dean squeezed her tightly, resting his chin on her shoulder. "That's one hell of a defence mechanism," he told her, trying to spin it in a slightly positive way, for both their sakes. he couldn't help but feel a stab of bitterness with that - it hadn't saved her. Even if the vampire had died, even if it had been instant - it hadn't saved her.

"I suppose." she said, sighing a little, arms around his and she gave them a squeeze. She was quiet for a moment. "Could be useful." she said, tone a little quiet, a little dull, but there was something behind it. "If we ever needed it to be." She didn't elaborate on that. It was the tactics kind of brain she had that brought it up. How really, having something that effective could be very useful, in an incredibly morbid way. "We'd need to test it. See how it's effective and how it isn't." Which she didn't really want to do, but the more she thought about it, the more she recognized that she needed to know just for safety reasons.

Dean swallowed. He could follow what she was referring to, the kinds of things she might be talking about, but he instinctively hated the idea, much like he hated the idea that his own abilities could turn him into a very effective weapon, he loathed the suggestion that she could be used as such as well. Even more so in that way, where it would simply involve taking something from her. Using her. In the most basic way.

She was aware that he wasn't going to like the suggestion. They'd had the talk a few times. How he felt about himself, about his abilities. She'd told him quite often that he wasn't his abilities. She didn't know how to add this up in any other way. Turning her head to the side a little, towards his face, she brushed her cheek against his lightly. "We'll need to know, regardless." she said, voice very quiet. "I need to know. I have to see, I have to figure out just how bad this can get."

"I know," Dean said, eventually, trying to mask just how unhappy he was about this entire situation. He'd deal with his own issues, they were just his issues and she didn't need to be landed with them right now. She'd done quite enough of being there for him, to her own detriment, lately. It was stopping now. He took a small breath and pulled himself together, sitting up a little more and repositioning her slightly. "When do you want to start?" he asked her, sounding more like himself.

"I don't know." She admitted. "I didn't want to do it at all like half an hour ago, but that was just me running from this because I really, really hate it." she said, because right now, she could own up to that. She didn't like it, but she could admit it. "I know it's going to bother me until I know." she said, because it would. "I...have a twitch, because I don't really want you to have to see it. Or the rats, and I don't really want to have to hurt anything or deliberately see if I'll kill it just by...y'know. Bleeding, but...I don't see a way around it either. And rats are about the only thing I think I'd feel less bad about, I wouldn't want to do that with anything else." She'd feel far too awful. She didn't know what else to say there, part of her wanted to say she'd go back to the orphanage and be back, but she didn't think he'd take that well on any level.

"Well, I have a twitch, because I don't want you to have to go through this alone," Dean told her. "And I'm more stubborn than you, so I get to win this one," he added. He'd lost the issue of the new moon, he wasn't going to not be there for her in this. No matter what. He refused to set up a situation where any time anything came up with her she dealt with it on her own from some thought that he'd get weird, or react badly to things. He loved her, he wanted to love all of her - they couldn't just lock away the potentially bad bits in the hope that by avoiding those they'd never have to deal with them. that wasn't how they worked - they deal with things, they pushed and prodded and kept at each other until the issues were aired. He wanted that across the board.

That actually made her smile a little. She leaned her head back against his collarbone, and didn't say anything for a moment. "Since when are you more stubborn than me?" she asked. "But okay. You win." she added, because she wasn't going to insist otherwise. It wasn't as if she wanted to do it alone. She paused for a long moment, biting at her lower lip, before she spoke again. "I need you to do something for me." she said. She also didn't wait for him to ask what it was, she went forward and said it so he didn't have to. "I've been...since everything happened, I've been holding back. And I know I have to stop it, and I know that you wouldn't want me to be doing that in the first place. I know what you'd say, and how you'd feel, I just...got into the habit, and I need to get out of it. So...don't let me, okay?"

"I won't let you," Dean promised, without a pause, without even having to think about it. It meshed with what he'd decided for himself, anyhow. That it was her turn to be put first again. They really did seem to take it in turns, and his turn was more than over now, she got her spotlight. "I'm yours, for whatever you want. Whatever you need," he promised - even if what she needed was for him to push when she didn't tell him what she needed, if she didn't let him in when she really should. "I'm sorry you've felt like you had to hold back." But he appreciated it. He'd needed it. But they both needed that to stop now. He knew where teh end of that road was - he was still terrified of ever getting to a situation where he was reliant on her for any length of time. He was still afraid of what that might mean for them. He shook off that fear, it wasn't relevant rght now. "And - I've been more stubborn than you since I realised I had to up my game," he told her, teasingly, trying to inject some lightness there.

She felt better for that. A lot better. Just knowing he knew what she needed there, or that she was holding back and that he'd make her knock it off was helpful for her. She found the ring on his hand and turned it, righting the design on it by feel. "Don't be sorry that I had to hold back for a while, I did." she said. "And that's nothing to feel bad about at all. It was what was needed. I think we both know that. I just...know that it's not needed anymore. It's just hard to get out of it. And I know I have to, but it'll take work for me." She ran her thumb back and forth over the ring, smiling again a touch, and she laughed a little too. "Is that when?" she asked, her smile clear in her tone. "And have you gone and upped your game then? And you think yours is better than mine now? Hmmm?"

"I think it is - I let it slip for a while, but I'm back on top again now, so no more always getting your own way, luv," he teased her, as though he'd actually be able to stick to that. And, to be fair, in some things he would. Like getting her to talk about things she'd rather not. Dean might have been entirely under her sway, but he wanted what was best for her - and he knew that that didn't always mesh with what she wanted there and then.

That got a little giggle out of her. "Not getting my way all the time, damnit." she said, snapping her fingers in an 'aw, shucks' sort of manner. "Okay." she continued. "I suppose." She drew in a deep breath and let it out in a rush. "I feel better." she told him honestly. "At least about that. Still not too good on the other stuff, but that, I feel better about." She pulled his hand up to press a kiss to the back of it, holding it there for a moment. "Do you think we should go?" she asked. "To the orphanage."

"You said it'd bother you until you know," Dean pointed out. "So yes, I think we should go and do whatever it takes for you to be able to know what you need to know. What we need to know," he added, since they were in this together - it wasn't just her, he was there with her and would be, every step of the way. That's what they had agreed, way back when - it seemed so long ago, but he knew that really it was no more than a couple of months - that they'd discover what they could do together. They'd be there for each other. That still held true.

She drew in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. "Then we should go. If we're checking out where the rats were, it's kind of deep in there, and I don't want to be stuck there in the dead of winter when it gets dark. I like my Dean all healthy and non-frozen in the dark in a crazy abandoned building." It was fine in the summer, but as someone who grew up in the area, she knew that you didn't fuck around with the winter. You didn't put yourself into a position where you might actually freeze. Hypothermia set in and your decision making skills went to shit then you were dead pretty fast. She turned, enough at least to turn his face towards hers, so she could kiss him. She hadn't yet, and felt the intense need to. She kept it lighter than she wanted to, though, because she didn't want to give herself the excuse of distraction.

He returned the kiss, but didn't draw it out for the same reason - if she said that they should go, then they should go. As much as it was tempting to stay here and make out with her in the closet, and maybe do other things that didn't involve killing small animals and had an altogether more positive bent to them, it was going to bother her, so they should go. "'Kay - let's get going then," he said, pulling back from her a little, but leaving it to her to get up first.

She sighed, and rested her forehead against his temple a moment. "I'd rather stay here." she said, before she stood up. She kept one of his hands, and leaned back, to pretend to tug him up with her. It wasn't like he usually ever really let her pull him up, but she did that anyhow. She'd started it back when they ate lunch on the school lawn together, the habit hadn't died. "But right. Places to go. Things to do. Um...we'll probably need something sharpish. Somehow I don't think my hatchet is going to work well in this case." She wasn't going to be chopping at any bits of herself, thank you.

He got up, smiling a little as she made as if she was pulling him up - he liked it when she did that, it was a nice counter to him always moving her where he wanted her to be. "I'll grab a knife from the kitchen," he suggested, almost reaching for where he'd used to keep the holster for his gun, before he remembered that it wasn't there anymore and neither was the gun. They were both locked away at the orphanage. Locked away where he'd wanted them locked away, and he'd thought he'd been doing fine without them - only the moment that something less than normal came up, the moment that they were going to do something where he was worried about her, that urge was back to go armed. He switched his grip on her hand a little and thrust his other hand into his jacket pocket, knowing that she wouldn't have seen any kind of a move there. But still, it did raise the fact that his instincts were just fucked. They were just going to the orphanage to work out what was going on - the biggest dangers were going to be the cold, if it got dark, and the rats. Neither of which really called for him to be packing. And yet, there it was, that instinct. He told himself that that was all the more reason to leave it locked away like that. He couldn't be trusted not to overreact.

She tugged him towards the door, opening it up. She was thinking about one of the last times they'd been there together. When he'd been her armed escort. When she'd sat there on the steps, soaking in the energy around her, watching him. How he'd been there, on guard. Even if he didn't have to be, even if things were fine and safe, he had been there, to protect her. She could clearly call him to mind in those moments, leaning back against the rail, looking relaxed but not actually being relaxed. Looking around, just in case. Ready for anything, end of story. Letting the mental imagery drift back into her memory, she wondered if Dean was going to ask her what she'd been doing there. Especially by herself, moving things around. And now she was thinking about them having to stop in the kitchen to get a knife. Right. To cut her. Their lives just never got any less weird. But at least they weren't in it alone. That thought had her squeezing his hand as they headed down into the kitchen, and she headed to the knife block to pick out something sharp.

Dean had fallen quiet and he let her lead him, he let her grab a knife, and then he took the lead, heading them out to the car, calling to Sophie that they were going back into town, ignoring the call back for them not to be late and the add on from his cousin that she wanted to talk to him when he got back. As long as she didn't want to talk to him before they left, that was fine, but she didn't try and stop them leaving, which was for the best.

Lullaby only heard Dean's end of things, but figured Sophie said something. This time she couldn't even say that it wasn't her fault, though her fault on things was just she had probably had an elevated heartrate through the damn roof, and Dean happened to notice since he had a direct line to it. Maybe she needed to be more zen. Or maybe Dean staying in school for the remainder of the day wouldn't matter in the slightest, and this was more important. As much as she was a fan of school, and learning and him getting his education and everything, priorities were shifting out of necessity, out of the way the world seemed to be going. She got in the car and put her seatbelt on, gazing out over the snow as she tucked her hair behind her ear. "We still need to get fort building. And do snowpeople." she said, trying to forget about the knife she held against her knee.

"We can do that Saturday," Dean promised her as he started up the engine. He'd prefer to build forts and snow people right now - going to a creepy, cold place to make his girlfriend bleed and see how easily she could kill things was really the opposite of 'fun things to do', but he was trying not to think too hard about the issues it would raise for him. He was being there for her, he could deal with his own shit another time. She was his priority right now. Her. And concentrating on driving. And driving in winter conditions, when he'd hardly past driving in normal conditions. Except this was winter in Marquette - this had now become the definition of 'normal' - he just needed to get used to that.

She nodded, and fell quiet. Dean had never mastered talking and driving at the same time in the best of conditions, she wasn't even going to attempt it when there was ice and snow on the roads. All she did do was sink down a little in her seat, and try her best to look 'nondescript'. She needed big, dark sunglasses and a hat or something. She did pull the hood up, and it was Dean's hoodie she happened to have snagged, so it was big enough on her to hide her fairly well. When they got there, she headed around the car and grabbed his hand, rushing them inside. It was just what they did when they walked pretty much anywhere together. They held hands. Had done since well before they'd been dating, and she wasn't giving that up now. The knife she had in the front pocket.

He was right with her as they headed inside and he didn't even attempt to say anything until they were well away from where they'd come in. he then stopped her and turned her round to face him, looking her up and down before stepping in and lowering his head to brush a short, soft kiss over her lips. "I love you," he told her, as he stepped back again. He wondered what had seemed more important there - for him to say it, or for her to hear it. he didn't push the point, he didn't give her any spiel about how that would never change, or how whatever happened here wouldn't affect anything. It was just a simple declaration of how he felt about her.

She had needed to hear it, and she smiled lightly, drawing in a breath and letting it out slowly. She put her arms up around his neck, and gave him a tight hug for a moment, clinging for just a short bit. "I love you too." she told him. Like she'd needed to tell him when there had been the texts and everything. But she definitely appreciated him telling her then, and that was clear. She gave him her own kiss, not too drawn out either, but something to accentuate her point, before she drew back--though she took hold of his hand again. "Ready?" she asked.

"As we'll ever be," Dean agreed, giving her hand a squeeze and stepping back a little, indicating that she should lead the way. She knew where they'd be going better than him, after all. He twisted his hand slightly, subtly flipping the pendant down to rest against his skin, keeping an eye on how she was doing that way as well as actually keeping an eye on him. He expected her heart rate to be up - he knew his was, he was as nervous as hell, and definitely on edge.

She took point and lead them down, deeper into the building, twisting through corridors and getting them off into another side part of the building. It wasn't that easy to get to, and that was why they'd picked it. It was a little out of the way and such, and she ducked them down over a half fallen door to get there. Daylight did stream in through cracks in the boards over the windows, however, which lit their way somewhat. And right there, over by the crate she'd moved was the rats. Beyond that, her mirror, the one Billy had put into the wall for her. Behind the crate, barely visible, the cabinet. But really, she gestured to the rats. Some live ones were still there, feeding off of the dead ones, but there was kind of a pile of the dead ones. It was, in fact, disturbing.

Dean didn't realise where they were going until he put things together, seeing the cabinet, and the mirror. And suddenly he realised where they were - this was where she'd stashed it. His gun. That would be where it was. The mirror so she could get there - all fastened to the wall and everything. With the cupboard by it, sturdy and fastened to the floor. He'd lay money on the fact that the key on her wrist opened the lock he could see there. Again, that question rose in his mind - what had she been doing here? But he didn't ask it. He wanted to, but he didn't - that would be a distraction from their purpose. So, he turned his attention to the rats. "How do you want to do this?" he asked her.

It was then that her heart kind of kicked up. It didn't start racing, but it elevated. "I don't know. I guess..." She shrugged, and looked down at the bandage he'd put on her hand. She started to slide it off, and she took the kitchen knife out of her pocket. Walking closer, she grimaced, then dragged it across the cut already there, to re-open it. No use making any new wounds, after all. Holding her hand out over where one of the live rats was feeding off of a dead one, she did the same thing she'd done before, which was just drip her blood down onto the area it was eating. And, like before, the effect was damn near instantaneous. She sighed, and looked back over at Dean. "See?"

Dean watched as the rats died, and didn't know what to say. He stepped up behind her, slipping his arms around her waist and, he was sorry to realise, keeping his skin away from the cut. It was different, he realised, seeing that. Different to before when she'd told him, when he'd been cleaning her up. He knew, rationally, that she'd bled on him before, and he was fine, but seeing it. There was that there. He tried to tell himself that she'd be fine with that - that she wanted him to be careful, that there was just no point taking risks, but part of him was still disappointed, that part of him that didn't want there to be any limitations, any holds, rational or not.

She didn't recognize him doing it. She just leaned back against him, and did her best to keep it away from him as well, holding that hand down, and slightly out away from them both. She shut her eyes and tilted her head back, against his chest, his collarbone, something that always made her feel very small, with him being so much bigger than she was. Small, protected, all the things that Dean usually made her feel. Like he could keep her safe, and would. Just...he couldn't save her from herself, could he? He couldn't make this better. Change it for her, even if he probably would, if given the opportunity. She tried to get herself to calm down some, but with him there, it just became even more real.

He held her, wanting nothing more than to just pick her up and carry her out of there, away from the place and everything it represented. He lowered his head to rest his face against her hair as she leaned against him, giving them that moment, gathering strength from the silence, to do what he needed to do. "Can you touch one of them?" he asked her, gently, more than a whisper only because she needed that to hear him, but it would be quiet to her ears. He was good at pitching volume for her now.

"To see if contact does it?" she asked, so very grateful for his presence at her back. She didn't really want to step away to do anything more, though knew she needed to. Like she needed to slide the knife through her blood, and give one of them a cut with it and see what happened. See if it worked that way. And god did she ever not want to see.

"Yeah," Dean told her, biting down on the 'you don't have to' that rose up with that. That was his natural reaction - that she didn't need to do this. That she never had to do anything at all that might be hard, or upsetting for her. He could override that easily enough, but the instinct was still there, to protect her from everything. To actually treat her like the china doll in the glass box that he knew she hated. He exhaled gently and let her go, though he stayed stood behind her, in close.

She didn't do anything for a few moments, eyes down on the rats. they really just...didn't give a shit that there were people around. They were busy. Taking the few steps back over, she knelt down, and then reached out as fast as she could, picking one up with her hurt hand. It was the easiest way to do it, do the contact thing. It would be a whole lot of contact, after all. It squeaked and squirmed in her grip--but it didn't die. Part of her was relieved there. God.

But then she took the knife, and she slid it along the bottom of her hand where she could scrape some blood of hers onto the blade, and then she bit her lip hard. Thankfully, not hard enough to draw blood, something that popped up morbidly in the back of her mind. Then all she did was slice it's tail. Not even that badly, because she really didn't want to. It was something she had to psych herself up to doing in the first place. so it wasn't much more than a glorified papercut.

It wasn't as instantaneous as when the rats ate her blood, but it was pretty fucking fast. Fast enough. It spasmed in her hand, not squirming like before, but dying. She dropped both the knife and the rat, and scrambled backwards--away from Dean, too, back into the shadows where she disappeared. Her heart was hammering now, and she felt sick again. Absolutely fucking sick. she bent double and held her stomach, coughing a little and feeling her stomach lurch, even if nothing came up. Her hair hung down in her eyes and she leaned heavily on the wall, not actually recognizing that she was speaking, a hurt sounding breathy mantra of 'oh shit, oh shit, fuck, no no...' Tears had welled and already spilled, a sort of instant reaction to the whole thing. All she could think about was when she'd been putting pressure on Dean's chest wound. When she'd been bleeding so badly from the gash across her stomach. God. god. She could have killed him. Right then and there, she could have killed him, and she didn't know if she was fast enough to take it back if that had been the case. She wouldn't even have known what was happening. And he'd held her while she bled out, he'd done that, she'd bled all fucking over him and god.

Dean made himself watch, he made himself watch and he made himself take it in - he needed to know. Even if he didn't want to know, he needed to know. And she needed him to know. And so he watched as the rat didn't die when she picked it up - there, confirmation of what he'd already worked out. And he watched as she cut the thing - and then it died, once the blood got into that. Right, so - blood to blood contact. He filed that away quickly, because she was panicking - and she was crying and Dean had never been good with tears. The exact opposite, even - another's tears caused a panic of his own in fact, that pushed everything else away.

He crossed to where she'd disappeared to in a couple of long strides, feeling for her since he couldn't see her. "Thi - c'm'ere Thia, kitten, come on," he said, wanting to hold her, wanting to make everything okay again.

"Dean--" she started, not even sure what she wanted to say. If she wanted him to stay back because she was bleeding, or what. If she wanted to be touched or comforted at all. She didn't want him to have to deal with this, or her, or blood, or anything. She also wanted to cling to him and close her eyes and pretend none of this had ever happened, but that wasn't going to fly, now was it? She felt his knee bump her shoulder, and she quickly moved back, just not far. "I--I can't--" she started, even if she had no idea where that sentence ended.

He felt her for a moment, which gave him somewhere to start as he felt her move away and went after her. "Yes, you can," he told her, cutting through whatever it was that she didn't think she could do. He felt her again and ducked down, keeping a hold of whatever part of her he had as he went for her.

She felt him grab onto the back of her shoulder, and he was reaching for her. Which was enough to turn towards him and cling. Her arms went around his neck, and she made sure that her hand was clenched tight and pulled inside her sleeve. She also made a really steady effort to try and shut down the tears, but that was harder to do. Mostly it consisted of holding her breath and trying not to outright sob.

Dean scrabbled to the floor as she clung to him - not a particularly graceful move, but he wasn't being about grace right now, he was being about getting down on the dusty floor and pulling her onto his lap and holding onto her as much as he could, his hand going to start stroking her hair. "It's okay, it's okay," he told her, trying to be soothing, just wanting her to stop crying, wanting everything to be as he promised. He didn't know what else to do right now.

She took a few minutes. It was hard to calm down when her head was rushing with everything that had happened up to now, and just how close things had come. What if them washing her blood off and such in the water with him and everything might have done something? Was it that potent, or did watering it down make it less fatal? Was less fatal even something she wanted to consider was acceptable? No. Nonono. NO. And everything else just...she was spinning. The world had taken a sharp turn and no one had warned her about it first. She did try to keep calming down, though, pushing things down, back, at least the tears bit. She knew he hated it when she cried. It just took longer than she would have liked. Eventually, however, her breathing evened out. She still felt shakey--and that was partially due to the fact that she was shaking a bit.

He kept ahold of her and continued to stroke her head, babbling on about nothing much, just a stream of what he hoped were calming phrases, promising her that it'd be okay and that it'd be fine and she was okay and he was okay and everyone was okay. The word 'okay' was used a lot. Many, many times. Excessively, even. It slowed, though, as she evened out and once she stopped crying, he leaned in and placed a soft kiss on her forehead.

She almost pulled back from it, trying to come to terms with things and not freak out and pull away for no good reason. It wasn't like he hadn't kissed her before. And it wasn't like all of her bodily fluids were poisonous. If that were the case they'd have been in massive trouble already. But, no. That wasn't the case, so she could stop fucking worrying about it right now. It was just her blood. And people were careful about blood all the time. It was common practice nowadays with diseases around. Just...with them, there was a chance you wouldn't get it, and oh yeah, it didn't kill things fucking instantly. "Dean, I don't know what to do with this." she whispered. "I don't know what to think, or how to feel, and I just...I don't know."

"We'll work it out," he told her, keeping her pulled in against him, not giving her a choice of going anywhere, even if she wanted to. "We've been fine so far, and we know it's not touch. or... anything else. It's just blood." Except there'd been a lot of that around lately, hadn't there? It wasn't even as if they could say that bleeding wasn't going to happen. They just didn't know. Dean had two thoughts that occurred largely at the same time, in conflict with one another, and neither of which he actually said. All the more reason for her never to heal me, warred with If she bled on me, could she heal it fast enough to save me?

Just blood. Right. But she'd bled out on him. And that just brought a rush back of panicked sorts of feelings. This was going to suck. She could tell already, this was going to be something that was going to be hitting her in waves. She'd calm down, then get hit again. When she spoke, it was kind of dull. She had her forehead rested in against the side of his neck for the moment, eyes open as she stared down at nothing. "Doesn't this make you want to...back off?" she asked. "You aren't, and I appreciate it, but isn't that what you should be doing? Or instinctively want to?"

Dean shook his head. "This makes me want to tell you again that you don't get to heal me if I'm hurt," he told her, firmly, his voice quiet, but strong - loud enough to hear and with a tone stating quite clearly he'd made a decision on this. "You need to be careful - about yourself. There's no point in bleeding for someone if that could cause more harm in the long run. But no, this doesn't make me want to back off. Thia, we've been through so much, and we're both still here. I'm not going anywhere."

She didn't say anything at first. Because she didn't know about that. And she felt stifled. Like the one thing she could do that was useful, something she wanted to do, something that could save lives, that she was just getting shut down on. It wasn't fair. And she said what was on her mind, even if she didn't mean to. It just kind of slipped out. "So the only thing that leaves me is use as a weapon, doesn't it." she said, not a question.

"No, the only thing that leaves you is you is a person," Dean told her, pulling her tighter against him. "Doesn't matter what you can do, or can't do, you're you and that's what matters, Thia. That's all that matters." He knew how she felt about being able to heal people, just as she knew how he felt about it. And he felt no sense of victory at having another reason there for her not to do it. It wasn't like he enjoyed taking that away from her. yes, he hated to see her hurt - hated it even more when she was hurt because of him - which was how he saw it when she healed him. That is was all his fault, if he hadn't got hurt, then she wouldn't have got hurt either. But he didn't feel any sense of relief at being able to call an end to the possibility of that. But he had to because it didn't matter how he felt about it - he could deal with his own feelings, but he knew that if she killed someone trying to save them, then she would never forgive herself. Which brought him back round to that question of whether she could take it quick enough if the worst happened.

But I'm not a person, am I? No, I'm not. I'm a fade. I'm not even here, not really, hell right now I bet I'm just a voice in the dark, a solid presence, but not here, and it was the one fucking thing that made all of this more liveable, it made it seem not as bad as it always feels it made it better for me to deal with because maybe I wasn't a total fucking monster if I could do something good. And now that's just been taken away from me and what does that leave me? Where does that leave me, Dean? That leaves me as the dead fucking girl who's not even got an upside anyore. Went through her head, but she didn't give it voice. She wanted to, and holding it in practically physically hurt. But it wasn't his fault. He hadn't done it to her. He was just being Dean. Being practical. Making sense.

"Talk to me, Thia," Dean said, when she said nothing at all. He leaned in and kissed her forehead again, nothing more because he didn't want to distract from things, but he knew she'd been holding back, she'd asked him not to let her do that, and he wouldn't have let her for something like this anyhow, so, he was giving her time to speak - he knew there was something on her mind. It didn't take a rocket scientist to tell. Or a psychic. A proper one.

She boiled it down to it's most simple form to share it with him, sparing him all the bullshit that went with. "Being able to help people was the only thing that made being a fade dealable. It was the only thing that made me feel like I'm not just some stupid monster movie creature." she told him. She was tearing again, but not outright crying. A hollow sort of feeling was taking root in her at the moment, and she almost welcomed it.

Dean told himself that he wasn't allowed to feel out of his depth about this. He told himself that, really, these issues weren't new - that he'd known she felt like that anyway. They'd talked about it before, even. Except, she hadn't put it so bluntly then. And he hadn't known first hand the overwhelming guilt that went with knowing you'd killed someone. That horror that struck at the oddest of moments - that still struck even though he knew that what he'd done had been the right and only thing to do. He knew his feelings in that were colouring his reaction here. But, if that was the only thing that made her life bearable - which was how he took what she said - then he needed to deal with that fact, and all the thoughts and questions that rose up about that needed to be ignored for now. "Then... Then you'll... You'll just have to be careful. Decide when it's worth it," he told her, keeping his voice as steady and calm as possible.

She didn't say anything again for a minute. She reached up with her non bloody hand to wipe at her eyes, wishing she'd stop that now. "You aren't wrong, though." she said, voice still that kind of defeated, dull sort of tone. "You're not. You're right. I can't really risk it. It'd be pretty counterproductive to go to help someone, and wind up killing them or anyone else who had an open wound, just by accident. And I don't know if I'd be fast enough to take it back before it happened. Logically, it isn't worth the risk to everyone else unless I could be absolutely sure that I could take it and then go someplace by myself for a while to take care of anything that happened." Logic. That just didn't help the emotional kick to the fucking teeth this was.

"Thia - if this is what you need to make your life bearable, we'll figure something out. We'll find a way," he told her, backtracking entirely on his earlier statements. They didn't matter any more. What she'd told him, that changed everything. She'd moved the goalposts, so he'd adapt to fit that.

It was kind of an absent note, but she heard what he said, and she corrected him. "Not my life." she said, voice soft. Quiet. "Not my life. Being what I am. There's a difference." She'd always said he wasn't his abilities, and while she was hers, she still viewed them on other levels. "You make my life bearable. The people in it, the life I have now, that's...but being this? Being what I am?" she shook her head a little, and let it lie at that, not knowing what else to say.

He almost felt guilty at the little bloom of relief and happiness that welled up when she'd said that. He hadn't even really allowed himself to process the way he'd taken what she'd said before. He'd refused to acknowledge the sting of hurt at her words, this not being the time or place for that. But he couldn't prevent the relief at being shown that he'd misunderstood. It only lasted a moment though - this wasn't the time or place for that either. His focus had to be her, not himself. That wasn't allowed. he needed to focus on that, process it, come up with something. He knew he had a tendency to ignore his own abilities as much as possible these days. He still used them in little ways, but he associated what he could do with badness too much to feel comfortable in using them. Maybe eventually he would get over that, but the end point of his abilities still scared the crap out of him, so he quietly just.... didn't. He had enough on his plate to deal with without going there. But if she couldn't do that - and he wouldn't assume that she would, then he needed to find something else. "Not being able to heal people - that doesn't just leave you as a weapon, doesn't just mean that for what you can do. Yes, we've just found that your blood's toxic, but - before then, there was lots that you could do that wasn't all weaponry stuff. Like - okay, silly example, but the other day when you nicked me a towel when I needed one. And I know, I know - that was a little thing, but... Not weaponry, unless you're going to qualify yourself as a ninja," he told her, trying to add on that last in a jokey tone.

She appreciated the effort of the tone there, even if it didn't quite do what it was meant to. She was a little too far down in that hollow place to really latch onto it properly. And she got what he was saying, that she could be useful in other ways, but for her, healing someone was so much more helpful. It was something that could only really be thought of as positive, if one ignored that she had to take it on in the meantime. That didn't matter so much to her, even if she knew it meant a ton to Dean. There were reasons he never was comfortable with her healing him or possibly anyone else. "Hadn't planned on it." she said quietly, because she knew she needed to respond. "I just liked knowing what I could do was something that could save people. Help them like no one else could. It was something good in all of this, and now, I just...I feel really, really lost. It was part of...I know we don't really talk about this much but I know. I feel it. I remember that people had to die for this to happen to me, and even if I didn't ask for it, and I don't know who they were, or anything like that, I want to make it up to them. I don't want what happened to them to be completely useless, and if I can help people, maybe that'll...I mean I know there isn't any evening the score, or anything, there never could be, even, but I...I just wanted to be able to do that, and..." she broke off, because she recognized she was rambling, and it wasn't a good sort of ramble. Not in the slightest. "And now it's gone." she said, cutting to the end. "Because I could wind up killing someone, not helping them, and...you know that you're going to have to stay back now, right?" she asked. "I know you patched me up today but that's not...you can't do that anymore. I'm going to have to take care of all of that myself." Then she took it further, thinking things through. "Should I not be able to patch you up if you need it? Should I..." She didn't want to, it was one thing she liked being able to do for him as well. She felt quite a bit like she didn't know anything anymore. Like the playing board had been kicked over and she had to try and make sense of the game with all the pieces out of place.

Dean wasn't sure if she trailed off of her own accord, or if he hushed her up. Possibly the two came at the same time. But still, he hushed her, bringing a finger to her lips, even if he couldn't really see where she was at the moment. She was still shadowy. He could do a good guess though, and he managed her lips, if not exactly dead centre. "I know I didn't get to go to all my first aid classes," he began. He planned to take that up again starting this evening, but he'd missed a few. That was one thing he was willing to study like hell to catch up with though. That was important. "But, once we got past the very basics, one of the first things they started drumming into us was universal precautions. Talking about how some people had, like, AIDS and stuff. And about how you should treat everyone as though they did. And how to make sure and do things so that you don't come into contact with their blood, so there's no risk there. People do that all the time. And I know that the risks are higher, if... But - medical people treat people all the time and manage to get through that without coming into blood to blood contact. We can do that. We just have to be careful. And Sophie has enough around in every first aid kit that... We just have to use it. Gloves, and making sure that cuts are covered. And disposing of dirty plasters and wipes and stuff carefully and whatever else we have to do. Today... I cleaned you up. Yes, you were bleeding, but we know now that that's only an issue if I am too. And I wasn't. Yes, I have a few cuts left on my hands, but they're on my knuckles and they're properly scabbed. But, in the future, I'll put gloves on first. And you can do the same to me. We - we can work round this." He paused, wondering if he should even add a personal opinion in there. Wondering if it would help, or just be vastly unfair. In the end, he went for it, but his voice was more subdued and a little hesitant as he added, "...Besides, I - I like it when you do that. Take care of me like that."

She stayed silent, knowing he was right but at the same time, she was thinking that it was too risky to deal with. She just wanted him to be safe. Fully safe, and never have to worry about any of that. What he said made her feel a little better, though she wasn't sold on trying things or continuing with anything until that last part. That was the kicker, really. That was what brought her much closer to an acceptance of things. He liked when she did that? That was lucky. She liked it too. She never liked him being hurt, but patching him up...she liked doing it. She liked taking care of him, babying him in those moments. Catering to him, since he didn't let her do that most of the time. So when she got to? She liked giving it her all. "Do you?" she asked, voice quiet. Soft. She didn't wait for him to answer, before she continued. "I hate when you're hurt...but I like doing that too. I like being able to take care of you like that." With her good hand, she played with the zipper pull of his jacket a little, thinking about it. "Like when we were on your bed after the shadows, or by the spring, or when you came home from the fight with Gabe in the first place...any time I have. I like when you let me."

Okay, so apparently the admission was the right thing to do. He smiled a little at that, relaxing slightly. "Yeah, I like it. I just... I never want to make you feel like you have to," he admitted. BUt he liked the attention, he liked the way she made him feel special, when he let her make him feel special, when he let himself not get in the way of that.

"I don't." she said, not having to think about that. "I never feel like I have to. Like it's a chore or anything." she continued, feeling him relax a little bit, and it was reciprocated with her as well, in a strange sort of way. "You don't usually let me. Or I have to try pretty hard to get you to. But I really like when you do. I like getting to. Being allowed to." For her, it was always going to be something different with Dean than it was with Joshua, and that was because she never felt like she was the only one holding them up. With she and Dean, they held each other up. And they took turns caring for each other, if it was necessary, it wasn't one-sided. With Joshua, it had felt like that to her, like he had needed her to take care of him, and exactly when she couldn't even take care of herself anymore she was so messed up emotionally and mentally. But with Dean...she never worried it was going to go there. Even when he'd dropped down into a very dark place and took his time coming back to a more stable place, she never thought he wouldn't make it. That she'd be holding him up forever. They didn't work like that.

For Dean, the fact that she had to try hard to get him to allow her to take care of him was part of the game plan. Those were the rules - he only got to allow himself to allow her to do that when he really needed it. There were standards, and he couldn't let those slip. He wasn't as confident as she was that things wouldn't end up at a Joshua level, because he still didn't entirely get what that would have to mean. He didn't grasp that he wouldn't get there, even though it would be unthinkable to him to stop supporting her to the best of his ability, he didn't get that there was more to it than just her taking care of him. But, as long as he kept those standards, he knew things would be fine in that respect. "I like it when you do. I... You make me feel special," he admitted, hoping she understood that.

She smiled, a light little turn of her lips, but there. Reaching up with her good hand, she put her palm to his cheek, and leaned closer, to brush a kiss over his lips. She let it linger, even if it was mostly a soft, light touch. She did understand, because he made her feel the same way. "You make me feel special all the time." Since a lot of the time? Dean treated her like she was the center of the world. Or maybe his world. And yes sometimes that was very princess in a tower like, but that didn't change the fact that in general, he treated her extremely well. Like she meant almost everything. "But I'm glad I make you feel special. You are." And she knew he knew that, but it was something that was good to hear. "I don't know what I would do without you. And if you're ever hurting...I want to take care of you. And sometimes when you're not hurting, and I just want to baby you. But you're a much harder sell on that..." she said, light little smile clear in her tone, anyhow.

"You think I am," Dean said, but he wasn't as dismissive of the compliment as he normally would be. If complimenting him made her happy right now, then she could do that. And, anyway, though he'd never admit it, though he didn't fully believe them ever, they were still nice to hear. He couldn't take them as truth, but when she said nice things about him, it always get him a warm feeling inside. "And I don't want to get into bad habits - or I'll have you peeling grapes for me next," he added, teasingly, taking that smile and definitely running with it.

She giggled a little bit at that. Just a tiny sound, but there. She thunked her forehead really lightly against his. "Will I have to fan you with big feathery fans too?" she asked. "Wear some little concubine outfit, have a little chain and shackle set going on as well?" she continued. "Since I'll already be doing the grape peeling thing. I mean, if I do that, and I'm being allowed to baby you, then I might as well go all out." An idle thought went through her mind of if she did do that, if he would actually eat them, but somehow she doubted that would have any effect on his appetite.

Dean made a show of considering that, though he didn't actually know how well she could see him in the shadows. "Well, if you wanted to go all the way with that..." he teased, sounding very much like he wouldn't get in the way of that. Which, honestly, he wouldn't. Well, not unless she actually started to try and feed him grapes, then he was figuring that he'd end up just feeling really, really self-conscious and ruining it all.

She smiled again, and gave him another little kiss, though this one was slightly more substantial than the last ones, but also briefer. She was glad he was distracting her--which she was also fully aware he was doing. But it helped. It really, really helped. "You know me, I don't like to do things half way, so if I'm going to be doing concubine-like activities, then I should really probably just go with it." she said, tone sounding reasonable.

"You probably should," he agreed with her. "Though, don't take it too far, because I have this feeling that to have a proper concubine, I probably need to have another woman lying around somewhere, and, well, I don't want one. I just want you," he admitted. Which was something he was sure she already knew, and he felt really quite self-conscious saying, but there it was, and if ever she needed to hear it, now was that time. And he always tried to give her what he thought she needed.

She smiled, sliding her arms around him again, though her injured hand stayed well back away from him, regardless of the fact that she had it covered, and nothing was going to be getting through his jacket or anything. "That's a very good thing. You don't want me to have to go all scary-thia on someone. It wouldn't be pretty. I learned to share in kindergarten, but I am not sharing you. I just want you too." Which reminded her that Joshua had texted today, and she just figured she'd bring it up later. She didn't want to cut that into the proceedings at the moment.

"Well, that works out just fine then, doesn't it," he told her, finding her lips for a kiss that was a little more drawn out than hers had been. "If I fall into bad habits, then at least I know you'll go along with it a little." Not that he would - he wouldn't let himself, but the game was there, the idea that maybe he would. It didn't need to be reality to be the game.

"You do in fact, have a little leeway." she told him, smiling after she kissed him back. It was still light, not that he could see it. "There are many things I would give you that leeway on. Though I like the idea of babying you. Or maybe I just like the idea of the outfit." Like she liked her collar. Which she still wanted to break out sometime for him. Just...surprise him.

He chuckled a little at that. Yeah, he could imagine she liked the idea of the outfit - she seemed to definitely like that kind of thing. Or, at least, the idea of that kind of thing. They both did, really - only he had a rather harder time actually vocalising what he liked. Even with her, he found that hard. That was one of the reasons he didn't try and answer, instead giving her a tight squeeze and simply holding her, encouraging her to rest against him.

She did so, letting herself relax for a few moments. She was going to need to take a bath when she got home, or something. Something to help her get the ache of tension out of her muscles. And she wasn't forgetting this. It was distressing to say the least. But it was more dealable with him there. Him there, and being reassuring, and helping her through it. She was silent for a few long moments. "I love you." she said. It was simple. Quiet, but she felt the need to tell him in that moment.

"I love you too," Dean echoed back, leaning back against the wall and looking around them. The question rose once again of what she'd been doing here in the first place. He knew the answer - or thought he did. There could really be only one answer there and it was locked in that cabinet. The real question was 'why?'. Why had she been here with his gun? Why had she needed to come here at all? He'd figured out that that period where her heart stopped had been her coming home, through the mirror, but why had she even needed to be here in the first place. But he didn't ask, she'd just got back on an even keel. he didn't need to maybe push her off that again for an answer he might not even want to know.

She didn't say anything for a few long minutes. She let herself continue to calm down, which was much easier with him there. She didn't look over at the rats, where were still cannibalizing each other over by the crate somewhere. But she couldn't hear them, so that was a plus. And she had Dean there, the solid presence that he was. Her mind, however, was actually drifting along the same lines as his were. She wondered if she shouldn't say something. And in the end, she did. "Don't you want to know why I was here?" she asked, voice quiet. If he didn't, then that was one thing, really. Maybe he didn't.

Dean didn't answer straight away, coming up with and rejecting various options for reply. "Of course I do," he said, finally. "I just didn't know if now was really the time to bring that up." He'd promised to push, but this wasn't that. And anyway, she'd been crying and he'd do absolutely anything in the world to avoid making her cry.

She shrugged one shoulder. "I was here to check it was still there, like no one had found it and stolen it, and clean it so if you ever needed it, it'd be in perfect working order." she said. "They're dangerous, and I wouldn't want to just let it sit here, maybe have things go wrong or whatever, and have it...I don't know. Rust...whatever--which it hasn't, but I didn't know if it was possible even, or how well the cabinet was sealed--so I just came by to do that. I didn't want to really say anything, because I still think that the decision needs to be yours entirely, and I didn't really want to bring it to the forefront of your mind if I didn't have to. I don't want to jade anything in any direction." she said honestly.

Dean sucked his lips in between his teeth for a moment, silently, thinking. "Okay," he told her, accepting that. It made sense, he knew. It was sensible. And, of course, she was thinking about him and the way he was even when it was things he didn't want to think about. If she'd told him she was coming here, he knew he would have felt obliged to come. And he wouldn't have wanted to. Not to do that. Except, there'd been that pull earlier on, hadn't there. The one he was ignoring, the one that was stupid and unnecessary. But it was still there.

She kind of wanted more of an answer than 'okay', but she didn't say as much. Mostly, she was just thinking that if he had more to say he'd share it. Though she wanted to know what he thought beyond that. Thia just wanted to stick with her not wanting to jade anything, which meant if he wanted to talk about it, he could, if he didn't, she wasn't going to make him. It had to be his decision all the way, so she wasn't even asking for more on his thoughts right then. So in the end she kind of just nodded. And she was thinking about how it had a charge of it's own. That was something she wanted to mention in the interest of not dodging anything anymore, but at the same time, it was on the subject she was leaving entirely to him, and she had a feeling that would in fact, jade things. He wasn't going to like that.

He took her silence as a tacit poke for him to keep talking, though he wasn't entirely sure that he wanted to. "I don't know what to do," he said, in the end. "I - I still feel screwed up sometimes. Like my priorities and instincts are fucked. Like - when I knew we were coming here. Back in my closet? I - my first instinct was to reach up to the shelf and get it down. We were coming here to look for rats, and I felt the need to be armed. That's fucked up, right?" he said, sure that that was fucked up.

Lullaby was quiet for a moment, trying to decide what she could and could not say. But, he was asking for her opinion, right? So, she decided to give it. "If you want my honest opinion...no. I don't think it's fucked up. I think with what we have been through, and in as short a time as it's been for as much as it's been, it's prudence, not fucked up. We were coming here looking for rats, yes. But this is also a building that we know has a huge output of negative energy all on it's own. Sure, we don't know what else could...could be attracted to this or need it or anything, but I doubt fades are the only kinds that are. We haven't run into anything here that will hurt us yet? But that doesn't mean that it's perfectly safe and nothing could ever happen. We don't even know why it's putting out the energy like it is. For all we know there is something lurking in here and we just haven't come across it. I think the instincts you have are there because of the way things have gone, not because they're skewed. Wanting to have it with just in case, is very different from having it with and drawing it every two seconds. Or at all. And I know you, you wouldn't. You've always been responsible with it. It doesn't get drawn unless you have to draw it." She was quiet for a moment, and then gave the flipside.

"But Dean, if you feel like it's fucked up, and you feel that way like it reflects on you, and everything else? Then that's what's important. It's yours. It's up to you whether or not you carry it, and if you aren't comfortable doing that? Then I don't want you to. Nothing good ever comes out of something like that. If you're going to even consider carrying it again, you need to be okay with it. And for you, and in your own mind with your own justifications, not anyone else's. Because the other side is we were here to find rats, we found them, and we're fine." she finished.

Dean listened to her long list of justifications and couldn't help having the thought of All this, and yet you still came here by yourself... It didn't get said. Not the time or place. It'd be a good out, but he wasn't going to take it, focusing instead on everything else. "That's the thing. I am comfortable carrying it. Too comfortable. That's what makes me uncomfortable, if that makes any sense. And, god, Thi - you say I'm responsible, but... I still have the bruises from my fight with Andy and you had to pull me off that guy. What if I'd had it then? I was so angry, I just - I... And with Gabe. I worry that my first instinct is to reach for something that... I worry about what I might do if I carry it."

"Dean," Thia said, not actually having to think about this at all. "You live your life according to a set of rules that you put into place. You don't make a habit of breaking them. I know, I've dealt with you on things even when I didn't know I was, and once you make up your mind about something, it's really difficult to get you to even remotely go against it. Something like that? You would just never do. I don't care how mad you were at Andy, and with Gabe? You just went to talk to him and it got out of hand, because the guy's an idiot. But you wouldn't ever have thought 'final solution' on either one of them. You're in a lot better control than you give yourself credit for, and I think you need to honestly look at that. You have bruises from fights. And yeah, I had to pull you off of Andy, but that--you were protecting me. He did something to me, it wasn't as if it was random. And just about anyone else in your position would have done exactly the same thing. But even if you'd had it on you, you wouldn't have just...shot him. You never give yourself enough credit, but I know you. That wouldn't have happened. The worst you would have done was pull it just to pistol whip the bastard. And even then? I highly, highly doubt it. I think I would have had to have been really really physically harmed to prompt that response." She stopped a moment, then continued. "Let me ask you a question. In either of those cases, with Gabe or Andy, did you even stop to consider the gun? Was there even a second there where you even thought about it?"

"I didn't have it with me," Dean told her, dully, but he shook his head. "No - I didn't," he confirmed, not adding anything to that at first, and then seeming to get his second wind with talking. "But - yes, I did it for you, but I just... I know what I'm like. And - it's not just you, Thia," he said, quickly, before he got into things. "I mean, I - with Andy, if he ever needed me, I was just there. It'd be the same for anyone, like Oz or Caleb or anyone. I know me. I dunno - I feel like I'm going round and round in circles about things and I'm not getting anywhere at all. So - it's staying here until I get things figured out. It's safer that way for everyone." He was still concerned about that slippery slope.

"I know. You're there for anyone you care about. What I'm saying, is that situation was a pretty bad one, and you weren't even out of line with your reaction on it." she said. "And the fact that you are worried about it, that tells me it's not going to happen, because you aren't going to just randomly let yourself do anything like that. It just isn't you." She drew in a breath, and let it out slowly. "Dean, it's still your decision. You asked me for my opinion, I've given it to you. If it's staying here then it's staying here. You know where it is and where the key is if you want it or need it, and until then..." she trailed off.

Dean closed his hand gently around the wrist that held the key. "Until then, you have it. I know. I trust you," he told her. And no matter what she told him, no matter how much faith she had in him, he knew he would never wholly trust himself. That was one of the things that made him trustworthy to his mind - a fact that he appreciated was warped in some ways.

She nodded, something he would have been able to feel against his shoulder a bit. "Right." she said. There was something bothering her about it all, but she couldn't quite put it into words. Mostly she thought it had to do with how much he didn't trust himself. And by proxy, everyone else's faith in him. But he always sold himself short, he always saw himself as far, far less than he was, and those issues were playing in now, and she worried about that. He was good. And she understood the issues he had with it, but at the end of the day? They lived in a world where one had to make suicide runs across town because vampires were attacking. Where you got woken up out of a dead sleep at dawn by claws raking down into your shoulder by some shadow creature that had been stalking you behind reflections. He was better than he was giving himself credit for, and she couldn't help but be concerned that it was going to get him hurt.

"We'll work it all out," he said, after a long period of silence. It was a thoughtful comment, almost distant, though he still held her and the distance was only in his voice, not in his body language at all. He wasn't entirely sure whether he was referring to his issues, her issues or both though.

"I know." she said. She did. Part of her did, anyways. There were parts that were still reeling from what had happened with her today, and she didn't know at all how she was going to react later. If she was going to back off, if she was going to keep reacting poorly. She just didn't know, and she couldn't guess. She did feel, however, like no matter what did happen, they'd be doing it together. That it was going to be that way, them, the others around them, but them together at the center there. Even in other manners, they usually did things in their own fashion. Like with the shadows. That? Had been a hell of a lot of them calling shots. She didn't figure that was going to stop. She didn't think they'd all fall apart. She just worried that they wouldn't keep safe. That was the biggest concern she had that she could not alter in her frame of mind. "We will. We always do."