A scream escaped you, the raw primal noise ripping at your lungs, leaving your throat sore and strained. A clatter from the room next door followed until Dean appeared in the room, fear on his face and his chest heaving from having rushed to your aid. He looked around for whatever danger that caused you to call out for help but couldn't see anything. He was used to fighting everything that went bump in the night, but he couldn't see anything that could have caused you such distress nor anything wrong with you past you quivering on top of a dining room chair.

"What's going on?" He questioned.

Even though he couldn't see anything, he was still on edge, expecting something terrible to appear before him, not knowing what else would cause you to be so upset.

You raised a shaky hand towards the corner of the room, your finger unable to stay straight, so just pointing into a general area. Dean followed your finger to see what was upsetting you. He let out a sigh, realising that there wasn't any danger but still wanted to help calm you down as it was obvious that you were distressed.

"A spider?" He questioned.

Unable to look away from the creature hanging in the corner of the room, you nodded your head, trying your best not to cry in fear. Ever since you were a child, you had struggled with your fear of spiders and clearly it hadn't gotten any better in adulthood.

The small creature moved down the wall slightly, making you jump, almost falling from your perch on the chair.

"Oh God!" You squealed. "Quick! Kill that thing! It's big enough to eat a baby."

Dean rolled his eyes at you, grabbing the newspaper from the table, rolling it up so that he had an appropriate weapon.

"It's not even the size of a quarter. I don't think it could even kill a fly easily, let alone a human child," he frowned.

You made another incoherent noise in fear, watching the creature continuously, hoping that it wouldn't be moving anytime soon and certainly wouldn't come anywhere near you.

"Please kill it!" You exclaimed, clinging to your chair as though it was your life support.

He did as he was told, smacking the spider with the rolled-up newspaper, squashing it against the wall. Once your enemy was killed, he made his way over to you, discarding the newspaper, offering you his hands to help you off of the chair.

"Thank you," you whispered, your breathing finally settling from your panic.

"I'm always here to protect you," he chuckled. "Even from a tiny spider."

~*~

Written by Charlotte.

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