In the middle of the night, Josie woke up and wanted to get something to drink for her raw throat. As she shuffled down the hall, she noticed a glow from a desk lamp and figured Sam had forgotten it earlier in his research. Determined, she walked toward it to turn it off, but Sam hadn't forgotten about it.
"Dean?" she bristled, startled when she recognized his shadow, "What are you doing here at this hour? Can't you sleep?"
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"No, but that's nothing new," he replied monotonously, sipping from his whiskey glass.
"So you sit here alone half the night getting drunk?"
"I've got to take my shots somehow," he muttered, glancing into the glass where the amber liquid was moving smoothly in circles.
"How about you talk about it for a change instead of just swallowing it all the time?" suggested Josie, half-sitting down on the desk beside him.
"Says the right one," he grumbled, squinting up at her before draining the whiskey and refilling his glass.
Shaking her head, Josie took the bottle and glass from him and pushed it far away. Stroppy, the hunter screwed up his face and rolled his eyes, sighing.
"I didn't keep it inside, I even went to treatment after Andy died because I thought I was going crazy with my werewolf delusions, I just didn't talk to you about it because it was none of your business," she defended herself gruffly.
"See? And that's exactly why I don't talk to anyone about it, it's no one's business"
"Dean, you're going to ruin yourself if you keep this up! At some point you're going to have to talk to someone, let it go Sam if you don't want to talk to me. It's obvious you're in a bad way!"
"And you seriously think a little chit chat would change that? Josie I've been doing this job most of my life, I know what it's like to have someone know too much about me," he sighed coolly but you could hear the wistfulness in his voice.
"You're scared," the woman realized, "It's okay, we're all scared to expose ourselves, you don't have to tell everything right away. What's going through your mind right now?"
"That you and Sammy are exhausting with your constant asking about how I'm doing, I'm fine, okay? I'm going to bed now!"
He rose from his chair briskly and trotted off in the direction of his bedroom. Josie looked sadly after him and also went back to bed after finishing Dean's glass. A little later, however, she woke up again, but this time because she had the feeling that someone was with her. Barely noticeably, she opened her eyes and actually felt someone sitting on the edge of the bed behind her back. Dean sat there silently, busying himself with his fingernails until Josie would wake up. She continued to pretend to be asleep, however, she turned to face him.
"Josie?" whispered Dean, barely audible, and gently reached out his fingers to her cheek.
Gently, he brushed a strand from her face and waited to see if it would wake her. Finally, he gave up and began to talk.
"You're right, I'm scared, but not of exposing myself. The last person I confided in died and every time I told Sammy something I could tell I was just putting my baggage on him. I don't want to be a burden to anyone with my problems and I've learned to deal with it."
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"But maybe that's why you're becoming many a personal burden, because no one can get to you and they'd like to help you," Josie whispered sleepily, without opening her eyelids.
Startled, Dean jerked his eyes open; he hadn't expected her to be awake after all.
"But it's useless to help me," he mumbled, lowering his head.
"That's for others to judge if they see a purpose in it," she smiled and reached for his hand, "Hey, when was the last time you actually slept properly?"
"I don't know, it's been a while, I guess," Dean admitted meekly, thoughtfully drawing circles on the back of her hand with his thumb.
"Dean?" began Josie cautiously, "You know what I think?"
He looked her in the eye expectantly and shook his head.
"You need love, and by that I don't mean the brotherly love of Sam or the physical love of some chick from a bar you'll never see again after this. Believe me I know very well what it's like to be alone. But you are not alone! You have someone who cares about you, and misses you when you're not around," she spoke, "I didn't have something like that for a long time, until I met you and your brother. I finally had someone to lean on again"
"Mmm, you just always favored Sam" he accused her smiling wistfully.
"Don't you dare start that again!" she reprimanded him, sliding a little to the side so he could find a place next to her.
Somewhat perplexed, he lay down and intuitively spread his arm for her, but she denied it.
"Men always think they have to hold women in their arms to protect them. You play the strong, brave brother to Sam all the time and I really thank you for looking out for me a time or two too but Dean, I know you have a soft core and I won't tell anyone if you let me protect you for once when no one is looking."
Puzzled, he blinked at her as she gestured for him to come into her arms. Hesitantly, he moved closer to her and rested his head on her shoulder. It was slightly disconcerting for him. As far as he could remember he had never cuddled with someone like this before. The last time someone held him tightly to their chest was in his childhood by his mother.
"Relax," she whispered to him, stroking his hair.
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Sighing, he closed his eyes and actually tried to relax, but it didn't work until she stroked his neck soothingly
