4

I'm on the ground.

I fell back, my head hitting the brick wall. I grunted in pain; my skull felt like it was about to shatter.

Slowly, my eyes flickered open. My arm that I had fallen onto was throbbing in pain but I was confused. My body wasn't raging with pain, not the type of pain a bullet would surely feel like.

I pushed myself so I was sitting up.

A tall, broad and muscular figure shoved Henry back. Derrick charged towards the figure but stopped. The man was swift and quick to pull out a gun of his own, pointing it at Derrick. Everyone froze.

Keeping his gun pointed at Derrick, he bent down to grab Henry's gun that was now lying on the cement.

I squinted my eyes in the darkness, trying to grasp who this person was. My vision started to spot with black dots, the world starting to spin.

I blacked out.

-

When I opened my eyes again, my head was pounding. My brain felt like it was hemorrhaging and on the verge of exploding completely. Clutching my head, I sat up and tried to make sense of my unfamiliar surroundings.

I was in a bedroom, one that was not my motel room or any room that I had seen before.

Now would be a good time to panic.

Quickly realizing I could very well have gotten kidnapped by someone worse than Derrick and his minions, I pushed the blankets off my legs. I was ready to get up and get out of here when one of the doors in the room opened.

Walking out of the bathroom, a man walked out. He held a towel in his hand that he ran through his head, his hair and body both dripping with water.

"What the hell? Dean." I groaned, leaning my head back against the headboard. Of all the people who could have been my personal Superman, it had to have been him. He had just saved my life.

I was almost positive I must be hallucinating.

Dean smiled wryly. His light blue eyes light up with amusement, but there was a hint of concern lingering behind them. He ran the towel through his hair once more, water droplets flying here and there.

He had just showered. Luckily, he had come out of the washroom in clothes. Sweatpants and a worn out t-shirt.

"I should fix that. Hold on." He dashed back into the bathroom, returning a moment later holding a first aid kit.

I stared at him, stunned. He took a seat on the edge of the bed beside me and opened the kit. "That's a very bad cut. Let me help." He didn't give me a chance to protest- not that I could have because I was floored with loss. I didn't know where I was, what exactly happened, or how I got here.

I should be dead right now.

When his hand reached towards me, I seemed to snap back into fight or flight. I flinched backwards. "What the hell are you doing?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm playing doctor. What does it look like?" He dabbed the side of my forehead with a cloth he soaked in rubbing alcohol. I winced at the stinging sensation.

"What happened? How am I here-where did you even come from?" I didn't move away from him as he cleaned and bandaged the laceration on my forehead. I was too sore and tired, my head still throbbing.

Dean met my eyes, his eyes and expression both blank. "Shut up for five minutes, will you?"

I clenched my jaw but listened.

I watched his ice blue eyes trail over my forehead. His fingers were warm as they disinfected the cut. I could feel his breath hitting my face. It smelt like peppermint.

I glanced away, staring down at my hands in my lap.

Dean licked his lips when he finished, as if he had just painted a portrait. He pulled back, looking over my now bandaged cut. "There we go."

I inched away from him. "What happened?"

Dean met my eyes again, quirking an eyebrow. "I don't even know your name." He grinned a grin that was filled with mischief. He was taking advantage of the situation. "And quite frankly, you should be telling me what happened. I have a lot of questions, sunshine."

Oh boy, I was not int he mood for his banter. I narrowed my eyes. "Do not call me sunshine. I'd like you to fill me in because frankly, I am very fucking curious as to why there is not a bullet lodged in my head right now." I nearly yelled the last half of my sentence. My head was going to explode, I may as well explode into pink dust myself.

I was tired, I was annoyed, I was in pain. He was helping me but I didn't have time to appreciate that when nothing else was making sense.

Dean put his hands up in defence. "Breath first."

"Don't tell me to breath, yo-"

"Okay!" Dean cut me off, staring at me with wide eyes. He was still amused. "Question for question. How does that sound? I think it's fair enough."

I exhaled very slowly but nodded. He was persistent, I knew that much. He wasn't going to stop until I gave it to something. "What the hell happened out there?"

Dean closed the first aid kit and pushed it further away on the bed. "I was coming back home from making a deal when I heard voices in the alley you were in. I stayed, eavesdropped a bit because I recognized your voice." His lip tugged slightly. "I knew I would never get anything out of you yourself, willingly. I was curious. Next thing I know, I'm playing hero and saving your life." He spoke with nonchalance and such calmness, like this was not something totally crazy or bizarre.

"Wh-"

"My turn." He cut me off. His grin was quick to fall. He looked at me seriously now. "Who were those guys?"

I exasperated an annoyed breath. "Old friends." I shrugged, avoiding looking him in the eyes.

Dean stared at me flatly. "Not good enough."

I sighed. "I used to run with them, work with them here and there- or work for them." I nibbled on my bottom lip, staring at my fingers as I pulled on them. "They started taking things too far so I tried to get out." I looked at him again. His eyes were warm and filled with curiosity. "What did you do to them when I blacked out?"

Dean exhaled sharply, his face twisting with apprehension. "They're assholes who I've run into a few times now. I would have shot myself, do everyone a favour. However-" His lip tugged slightly. "I was more inclined to see whether or not you were dead."

My eyebrows pulled together. "You didn't kill them?"

Dean let out a small laugh. "Threatened and left them with quite a few bruises. Now, why are you in town?"

"Because it's what I do." I scoffed, brushing off his stupid question. "Why did-"

"No," he spoke firmly, cutting me off again. "I need a real answer."

I heaved out a breath, glaring. "It is what I do." I repeated the words slowly, staring him in the eye. "I never stay in one place for too long. Call it being on the run, if you will. Why did you help me?"

"I don't have a reason." He answered quickly, not needing to think. "I just did. I don't know why myself. Perhaps it was just human decency or instinct. Why are you on the run?"

I leaned back against the headboard, staring at my hands as I fiddled with my fingers. "I have been for as long as I can remember. It's a long story." I looked at him again, sternly. "One you will not be hearing. Where-where exactly am I?" I glanced around the room.

Dean paused for a moment, as if mentally confirming with himself that I would indeed not be telling him my whole life story. Why the hell would I do that? "My house. How long are you staying in town?"

My eyes narrowed. Why the hell am I in his house? He's a stranger, regardless of whether or not he saved my life. "I don't know," I told him honestly. "I stay until I get bored. Usually, if I'm in a new town it's because I need to meet people or I have duties to fulfil. If not, I lay low and bounce when I feel the need to."

Dean nodded slowly. I couldn't tell what he was thinking.

"Do you run with a gang or is it just you?" When I first met him, it would never cross my mind that he could be in a gang. With the new circumstances, considering he had a gun, saved my life, and left a fight with three people against once and didn't have a single scratch on his body- there was something more. Whether it was a gang or something similar, there was more to him.

Dean paused for a moment before answering. "Just me. There's no specific gangs around here, just a few groups of people who run together for the small stuff. Nothing intense. I do a little side business. If I need the backup, I have some friends." He spoke easily. He didn't seem to worry about telling me, not that he'd need to considering the type of people he just witnessed me with. "What is it-exactly, that you do?" He almost sounded hesitant to ask.

I shrugged lightly. "Deal a little. Credit card fraud, when necessary or obligatory. Grand theft auto, also out of necessity or obligation. I've had my share-with, well the weapons market, identity theft, forgery, and the likes."

Dean's eyes widened. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it.

"Would you happen to have any painkillers?" I asked when he hadn't said anything. "My limbs feel like they're dying, literal muscle death."

Dean snapped his mouth shut and stood up. With a curt nod, he left with the first aid kit. When he returned, he was holding a glass of water and some pills in his hand.

I glanced at the medication. "Tell me this has codeine in it and you are not just giving me over-the-counter Tylenol."

Dean laughed softly, airily. "Oxycocet."

Gratefully, I took the medication and downed it with water. Dean stood there, watching me with careful eyes.

His eyes glinted with hesitance, like he was a deer in headlights and unsure of his next move.

I paused. Oh, how much an idiot I am.

I slowly started getting out of his bed. "Thank you-for saving my life. I owe you one. I should go."

I swung my legs over and started putting on my shoes that were sitting on the floor next to the bed.

Dean reached his hand towards me but then stopped. He kicked my shoes out of the way, forcing me to look at him again. "It's nearly five am." He looked at me as if I were truly insane. "I popped painkillers in your mouth earlier, when I brought you here. You just took some now too. The sleepiness will hit you quite hard and quite soon." He paused for a moment, rolling his jaw. "You should just leave in the morning."

I glanced between him and my shoes. "No, I couldn't."

Dean ran a hand through his hair, sighing. "It's just me here. You're not in harm. You might be if you walk yourself back to wherever you're staying."

He had a point but I didn't even know him. It would be very uncanny of me to stay.

"I'm also fairly certain you may have a concussion."

I glanced at Dean, debating internally. I blew out a sharp breath. "I don't think I can manage watching the street this late at night when I'm in the middle of unknownness."

Derrick and his crew were still out there, surely vengeful after the events that took place tonight. Also, I really did not know where I was or how I would get back to my motel from here.

I could already start to feel the affects of the painkillers. My head felt heavy.

I didn't trust Dean, I didn't know if I indeed would be safe here. But he had saved my life and I didn't think he was eager to kill me. At least not tonight.

Dean nodded his head curtly. "Goodnight then."

He turned and headed for the door when I stopped him.

"Elettra."

He turned to look at me, his eyebrows furrowing together. He stared at me, baffled with confusion.

I smiled faintly. "Hi. I'm Elettra."

A smile grew on his face until I could see his pearly white, straight teeth poking out. "Elettra." He spoke, as if he were seeing how it would sound rolling off his tongue.

Dean looked down, smiled, then looked at me again. He nodded his head before turning and leaving the room.