Magnetic

Mixed Signals

It was about a week later when you felt completely back to normal. During that week, Dean had been attentive at first, making sure that you were taking it easy. Making sure that you kept drinking the tea, and that you weren't overexerting yourself. But then as time passed, he slowly pulled away, often heading out for hours at the time, coming home and smelling like he drank the entire bar. 

It shouldn't have hurt you, but it did. You had loved how close the two of you had been while you had been healing. It had given you a chance to see the sweet and caring side of Dean that he normally kept hidden. During that time it had seemed like the two of you had spent so much time together, laughing and telling stories. It had been wonderful, memories that you would always treasure, and it made it that much harder when he just up and stopped.

Racking your brain, you tried to think of something you had said or done to upset him. Something that would have pushed him away, back to the bars and no doubt women that he picked up during the nights he didn't even make it home. You tried to pretend that it didn't hurt, and if Sam noticed, he didn't say anything. 

As much as you hated to admit it, Dean had done something no one else had been able to do since your father's death. He had been able to slither his way into your life, and your heart, making you feel things you never thought you would feel again. You would even go so far to say that you could be falling in love with the exasperating man. And that made his rejection of you and your time together hurt worse than the pain you had gone through during the spell. 

So, without anything else to do, you started looking for jobs. Thinking that if the three of you were out on a hunt, things could go back to normal. Or at least he would be forced to spend time with you. Scouring the laptop for anything that sounded remotely like something you would handle. After hours, you had almost given up when you found it. Hidden towards the back of a newspaper was an article, talking about multiple deaths in this town. At first you had been ready to pass it by, but then you became intrigued. Four men so far had been arrested for murdering their wives or girlfriends. Each woman had been killed the exact same way, a hard, blunt object to the back of the head until it had caved in. At first the cops thought the men were working together, but there was nothing connecting them together. And after the murder the men came out of a fog, pleading over and over that they didn't mean to.

"Hey Y/N, what are you doing still up?" Sam asked as he walked by, already dressed for bed, a book in his hand.

"Trying to find us a case. And I think I did." You answered, checking the clock on the laptop, seeing it was already after midnight. Dean still wasn't back, which meant he had probably found another girl for the night which made you frown. Sam peered down over your shoulder, missing your look of sadness as he read about the case. 

"It does seem like our type of thing. And it's only about four hours away. What do you say we see if Dean makes it back, and we leave in the morning?" Sam asked you, yawning as he stood up. 

Nodding, you closed your laptop, following Sam down the hallway until you reached your door. Hesitating in front of it, you stopped Sam. "Hey Sam, do you think I did something to piss Dean off?"

He seemed surprised by your question. "No, I don't think so. Why would you think that?"

Fiddling with your door handle, you hummed out an answer. "It's nothing."

"Y/N, I'd like to think that we are friends, good friends at that. I will always be here for you. So if you need to talk, talk." Sam assured you.

"Thanks Sam, but I think I'm just going to call it a night." You hedged, before shutting your door behind you. You didn't want Sam pitying you for falling for his brother, when you knew it was a stupid move from day one. But there had been sparks there ever since you saw him in just the towel, and kissing him had been amazing. It wasn't hard to fall for a guy like Dean, but it was sure hard to be around him when he didn't seem to return the feelings.

Changing into your sleep shirt, you slid under the covers, turning your light off as you considered the coming hunt. Maybe it would bring you and Dean back together. If not, it would at least let you know that you needed to move on, before you let your heart become any more taken by him. 

Slamming your head against the pillow, you groaned, knowing this was the reason you had stayed solo for so long. You hadn't wanted to take the chance of falling for someone, and having that thrown right back in your face. Or worse, they died on you, because that's all that ever seemed to happen for hunters. 

As you mentally yelled at yourself for letting your heart strings get pulled, you heard the main door to the bunker slam, and unsteady footsteps head down the iron stairs. Sliding out of bed, you pulled your emergency pistol from the nightstand, heading out of the door and down the darkened hallway. Around the corner you peeked, the gun steady in front of you, lowering it when you recognized Dean's drunken singing.

You could tell when he noticed you. His singing stopped, and his mouth broke out into a huge smile. "Y/N!" He exclaimed, walking forward, almost running into the wall before he noticed the gun in your hand. "What is it? A monster?" He asked, looking frantically around him, almost falling over in the process.

"Nope. Just a drunk man." You answered, grabbing his arm and dragging him down the hallway. 

"Y/N." He slurred, stopping in the middle of the hallway, making you stop too. "Are you going to leave me?"

"Of course not! Why would you think that?" You questioned him, before guiding him into his room so you wouldn't wake Sam.

Getting stuck in his flannel as he tried to take it off, you came over to help him. "Everyone leaves me. Even Sam's left me. I don't want you to leave me." 

Trying to ignore the fact that his words warmed you, you turned your back on him, folding his flannel and placing it on his dresser. "Dean, I don't want to leave you. But why are you worried? You don't even like me."

You felt his hands on your shoulders as he turned you, his body swerving in place, taking everything in his power to stay on his feet. "Not true. I do like you. I just want to keep you safe. And that means not being in a relationship with me." He slurred, stumbling over the words.

Well, at least you had your answer about why he had been ignoring you lately. It fit with the Dean you had come to know, and he would have never told you this if he had been sober. Turning around to face him, your mouth dropped open, and you caught yourself staring. He had already stripped out of his shirt, leaving the upper half of him bare as he fell backwards on the bed, trying to get his boots off. He might not be a weight lifter, but a hunter's life had still given him quite a few muscles. You had already had a chance to see his upper body naked before, but you had been so embarrassed that you hadn't really looked. But now he was too busy trying to untie his shoe that you could just make out the smattering of freckles along his shoulders. You could see his perky nipples, and the slight pudge of belly that was adorable. 

"Help." He ordered, holding his foot out, and feeling sorry for the drunk man, you untied his boots, pulling them off for him. As soon as they were off, he unbuckled his pants, wiggling his hips as he tried pulling them down while still laying back on the bed. You watched the struggle, until he gave you a pleading look, and you raised shaky hands, grasping the rough denim, pulling them over his bow legs, leaving him in nothing but boxer briefs. Trying to be polite, you kept your eyes up, towards his face, but you really wanted to look your fill of him. 

Tossing his clothes on the dresser, you turned to leave, but one word out of his mouth stopped you. "Stay."

"Dean, you're drunk. You'll regret this in the morning. You don't want me to stay." You answered him, even though you really wanted to.

"Please." He begged, scooting over to give you room. Sighing, you slid in under the blankets, turning the light off as you did. Before you could even get comfortable, he reached out, pulling you tight to his chest. Letting yourself get lost in his embrace, you knew you would come to regret this in the morning.