The room I woke up in was unfamiliar. Two queen beds took up a small part of the room, a nightstand in between them. Across from the bed I was on, there was a broken down couch, it's cushions visibly worn down. Clothes scattered the floor, and two closed duffle bags sat by a table in the corner of the room. A small dresser was near it, a TV on top of the dresser.
I looked down, trying to see if I was wounded. The shirt I had been wearing had been removed, as well as my shoes, leaving me in skinny jeans and a semi see-through undershirt. I began to panic, remembering Marcus' threats from the night before.
The bathroom door opened, and I shut my eyes, worried about who I would see enter the room.
The person said nothing, just opened the dresser, removing what I assumed to be articles of clothing. I opened my eyes, almost screaming.
"Don't drop that towel, I'm awake."
Dean jumped, turning around to look at me. In one hand, he had the clothes he was going to change into, his other hand help up the towel that was wrapped around his waist. A few droplets of water fell from his hair when he turned.
"You scared me."
"Sorry," I smiled sheepishly. "Just, um... Didn't want to see anything."
"I didn't mean just now," he said, his voice serious. "I mean last night."
"What happened?"
"Let me get dressed," he sighed, going back into the bathroom. Not a minute later, he emerged in blue jeans, a plain green open-button up covering his white t-shirt.
He sat on the edge of the bed I was on. I sat up, pulling the covers up to my chest. "What happened?"
"What do you remember?"
"I was at the bar with Marcus. He tried to get me to leave with him, and I went outside and tried to call you, but I guess he followed me and he tried to get me in his car and then I passed out."
"Yeah," he said. "That's about it. I saw you struggling so I went over there to see what was going on. You were already passed out, but there was no way I was going to let Marcus do anything to you, so I took care of problem-"
"What did you do?"
"I just roughed him up a bit," he grinned, winking. "Don't worry about it. Anyway, he told me he didn't drug you-"
"And you believed him?"
"Oh, trust me, after what I did to him, he wouldn't dare lie to me."
I stayed silent. I wanted to ask how badly Marcus was hurt, but in all honesty, I didn't care. It sounded like he got what was coming to him.
"So after he told me he didn't do anything, I knew you had just had too much to drink, so I brought you back here to sleep it off. I tried to drop you off at the place Sam said you were staying, but no one was home and I didn't know how to get in. How much did you have to drink last night?"
"Too much," I sighed. "Thank you for saving me."
"Don't thank me, I was doing what anyone would have done."
"Not anyone."
Dean gave me a sympathetic smile. "Here's another question- if you were drunk enough to pass out, why aren't you laid out now? You should be beyond hung over."
"Ah, yes. That's kind of my super power." I grinned.
"Super power?"
I nodded. "Senior year of high school, I discovered I can drink basically as much as I want, and wake up with a small headache that pain killers and a good breakfast can get rid of."
