Cursed Dean 4

Dean slammed into the ground, rolling over as fast as he could. The second he could find his feet, he was up and backing away from the huge human staring down at him, awe in those familiar hazel eyes.

“Whoa…” said the other man, amazement just oozing from his voice.

Dean took a few more wary steps back as the human leaned down to see him better. The huge brow furrowed above as his outright fear was noticed.

“It’s okay,” said the other man, his voice a quiet rumble of reassurance. “I’m not gonna hurtcha.”

Dean tensed, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?” he spat angrily. “You just grabbed me, after all.”

The other man smirked at that, sending chills up Dean’s spine at the casual disregard for his anger. “I’m not the one that’s out here spying on people,” the man with the hazel eyes pointed out. “All I did was catch the person sneaking around near my room. So don’t go thinking you’re innocent in all of this.”

Dean stiffened at the accusation. He knew it was true, the way humans thought. But he wasn’t a human, not anymore, and he needed to ascertain the danger the massive man posed his family.

That was the last thing he’d ever admit, though. He couldn’t reveal the existence of any others like him, he might put them in danger.

He almost leaped away as a massive hand came at him again, but to his shock, this time it didn’t grab at him. His jacket was lying draped across fingers that were longer than he was tall, held out for him to take back.

He stared up at the man suspiciously, refusing to take the bait and get himself in any more trouble. His hands clenched into angry fists.

The other man sighed. “I really won’t hurt you if you’re not hurting anyone else, y’know. I’m a hunter, but I don’t think someone the length of my pinkie really applies.”

Dean almost snarled at the way he’d been put down as non-threatening, but he held his tongue. He stomped over to the hand, snatching up the black jacket and tossing it back over his arms. He was never self-conscious about his body, but the sight of how thin his carefully trained, muscular body was compared to just a finger was not a sight he wanted to see. With the jacket on – and his knife tucked back against his chest, ready to be wielded if he needed it – he felt more prepared for the situation he’d fallen into.

The other man put his hand on the table once it was empty, keeping it close enough to Dean that any escape attempts would be fruitless until his guard was dropped. Dean knew what hunters were. He was supposed to be one, after all. He needed to be careful how he approached this situation, otherwise he might end up dead as an assumed threat.

The hazel eyes narrowed, scanning Dean head to toe. Dean stiffened at the scrutiny, hating the way he was being sized up.

He didn’t find out what the man thought of what he saw. Any chance he had of focusing on his precarious situation was brought to a screeching halt by the next word’s out of the man’s mouth.

“So, what’s your name? I’m Sam.”

Original Ask || Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 (here)

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