Son of a Bitch -- More SPN Imagines

Dean / Inside Your Head Pt. 2

Fearful of your realization, you quickly feel the need to escape this awkward situation. You put your hands down on the bed, on either side of you and Dean. You lift yourself up, maneuvering your body away from his. You move slowly and watch his face for any signs of alertness. Your feet touch the floor, and you let out a breath that you realized you had been holding this whole time.

Once you're standing up and steady, you look behind you once more to make sure that he's still asleep. You couldn't help but notice his chest rise with each restful breath, and deflate with each exhale. A smile passes over your lips, but quickly disappears when you refocus on your escape mission.

You tiptoe over to the door. When you're just about to make contact with the handle, the damned hardwood floor creaks beneath your weight. Loudly.

Dean's hands raise to his eyes, rubbing them sleepily. You slightly panic, open the door, and take one step before you hear: "(Y/N)?"

Sighing defeatedly, you brace yourself for the now inevitable heart-to-heart. Let's just say that wasn't one of your specialities. You turn around to face Dean, who is sitting upright at this point, his eyes trained on you. You smile awkwardly, making your way back to the bed. "Heyyy... kiddo." You lightly punch his arm, sitting at the foot of the bed.

Kiddo? What the fuck is that? you mentally curse yourself.

Dean chuckles at your awkwardness, his eyebrows furrowing at your apparent discomfort. "Everything okay," He punches you lightly on the arm, "kiddo?"

You laugh at his playfulness, absolutely melting at the way his lips turn up into a genuine smile. "Yeah, everything is okay." You hesitate a little, pondering whether you should just say your spiel or keep things light. The words come tumbling out of your mouth before you make the decision: "So, about last night. I would really appreciate it if you would forget about my little breakdown. That was completely uncalled for, and it was really, really embarrassing. I'm sorry for concerning you, and I'm sorry that I couldn't be stronger. Uhm," breathing in and trying not to comprehend everything you just said, you continue, "it won't happen again." You stand up quickly after finishing, and hurry towards the door, just praying that this awkward encounter would end.

"(Y/N), (Y/N), hold up!" Dean scrambles out of bed and catches your arm just as you're about to escape - again. His eyes are fixated on yours, searching for a hidden explanation. "What do you mean you're sorry for not being stronger?"

"Look, I don't know, I - I don't know, okay?" you fumble for words and avoid eye contact with him, not wanting to feel vulnerable again. Another wave of words come spilling out, and you say, "And don't think too much into our, uh... sleeping arrangements last night. It was a fluke thing, and didn't mean anything."

You wondered if that last statement was meant to reassure Dean, or meant to reassure yourself...

Morbidly embarrassed at your utter lack of self control, you make yet another attempt to escape the room, and - guess what - Dean stops you yet again. "Stop trying to leave, (Y/N)," He shuts the door, his eyes remaining on you. He looks down at the floor momentarily, seemingly debating something. "Look," he mutters, "I know you're trying to run away from your emotions... literally. I do it, too. But - and feel free to call me a hypocrite - I think we should talk this thing out." His eyes meet yours again, awaiting your response.

"Seriously? You choose now to go all Dr.Phil on me?" You cross your arms over your chest, shifting your weight to one side. "Where was this 'talking about emotions' crap when we were dealing with your problems?"

He nods along with your words, knowing already that that would be your response. "I know, I know. And we'll do all this crap when my next problem happens, but we need to focus on you right now." His expression grows a bit softer as he continued, "You said some really dark stuff last night. That you hated yourself, thought you were weak... You scared me, (Y/N)."

Your heart sinks at his words. You caused someone else pain, just because you weren't strong enough to take care of yourself and toughen up. You felt horrible. "I'm so sorry, Dean. I -"

"You're sorry?" His eyebrows raised, and he half-heartedly chuckled. "Why would you be sorry?"

"Because I put you in an uncomfortable position. You didn't have to help me or comfort me or stay with me or anything. I couldn't be strong. It's my fault. I'm sorry. Are we good?" Without waiting for his answer, you shove past him and reopen the door, this time successfully walking out. You make your way to the kitchen, your breathing erratic at the intense, emotional moment. You weren't used to this. You didn't like facing your feelings. You didn't like seeing other people hurt or confused because of your lack of self control. You felt horrible.

You grabbed a mug from the cabinet's middle shelf, pressing the brew button on the coffee machine. You listened to it whir, closing your eyes and finding comfort in the distracting noise.

"We're talking about this." a stern voice sounds from behind you.

You sigh, turning to face Dean. "We already did. It's over. Forget about last night."

He begins to step towards you and you start backing up. When your back hit the counter, he puts his arms on either side of you, trapping you in place. His tall figure towers over you, his masculine scent engulfing your senses. You can see the seriousness in his dark, green eyes, and you realize that you won't be able to walk away from this one.

(Sorry to cut it short, but I thought at least putting some of the story out there, unfinished, would be better than nothing at all! I hope you enjoyed this, and let me know if you would like a part 3!)