Confetti it's a Parade Book 2

Hunter Vs. God Pt. 2

"Another one." You slurred, holding your hand up to the bartender, wondering why the bar was shaking so bad. "Dean, is it an earthquake?" You asked your drinking buddy.

"No, but I do think you've had one too many. Let's get you home." Dean said, trying to wrap his arm around you shoulder and guide you out of the bar. 

"No!" You exclaimed, just as the bartender brought you another shot of whiskey. Dean tried to take it from you, but with a sudden burst of energy, you grabbed it, slamming it back before pointing your finger at him. "Haha, I won!"

"Y/N, seriously, you've drank more tonight than I've ever seen you. Think we need to call it a night." Dean tried arguing again, just as your head started to pound, and you felt as if your insides wanted to make their way outside.

"Okay." You stuttered, sliding off the bar stool, wavering in your spot, almost falling to the ground at one point. Dean grabbed your arm, supporting you as you stumbled out of the dim bar and into the pouring rain.

"Shit." Dean muttered, trying to pull on your arm and get you into the Impala faster, but you stopped where you were, tilting your head up, letting the rain wash over your face. "Y/N, come on!"

"No, this feels amazing." You slurred, moving your arms out, almost falling over. "I don't want to go back." You pouted. "Going back means seeing Chuck again, and seeing the pain on Sam's face. I don't wanna see that."

Dean sighed, running his hands through his hair as he stood in front of you. "Y/N, you're going to have to go back sooner or later, and face them."

"No." You pouted like a three year old child, sitting down on the soaked pavement. "Maybe you and I can run away, become our own hunting partners."

"Once you sober up you will realize how ridiculous you sound. There is no way you'd leave Sam behind." Dean said, crouching down to look at you.

"But Chuck's back. What am I supposed to do?" You asked, the cold rain soaking through your clothes slowly starting to sober you up.

"I think you need to talk to him. There's some things he needs to explain. I'm sure once you hear them, it'll be easier for you to figure things out." Dean told you, before grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet.

"I hate talking." You muttered, still not looking forward to heading back. "I'd rather stay here, drown my problems."

"Trust me, I've tried that plenty of times. And it doesn't always work. They come back to haunt you in the morning." He said, and you wrapped him in a hug. 

"Thanks Dean. For being my friend, and helping me out with this." You said into his chest.

Patting you on the back, Dean pulled away, and opening the door of the Impala, pushed you in.

Your head pounding, you leaned it against the cool window as Dean drove the darkened country roads back to the bunker. It was quiet, giving you time to sober up and think. Sure Chuck was back, but what the two of you had was a long time ago, and you've changed. And you loved Sam. Surely Chuck wouldn't expect you to drop your relationship with Sam just because he's back.

And then there was the fact that he had left you, six years ago, with no goodbye or anything. Maybe he didn't love you back then, and he only felt pity for you now. Groaning in frustration, you slammed the car door shut, standing in the bunker's garage.

Dean came up, wrapping you in a hug. "Y/N, you've got this." He whispered into your hair, before leaving you behind. 

Shivering as the cool air hit your wet skin, you decided a change of clothes would be the first thing to do before talking to anyone. Making your way to your room, you opened the door, more than a little surprised to see it empty. Glancing at the alarm clock on the side of the bed, you realized it was after two in the morning, and that Sam should probably be asleep.