I Have Two Faces; Blurry is the One I'm Not

|six|

The instant that we got in the car, cackling and sopping wet, Dean's phone began to ring. At that same instant, Blurryface decided to start in on me.

"I step away for a few hours and you bring the meatsuit to-"

"Shut the actual fuck up, Blurry. Go away again."  I growl, feeling His darkness shrink away as quickly as it had come.

Blinking hard in order to pull my thoughts back to the present, Dean has already hung up his call. "Hey, uh," he starts the engine and looks over to me, "Sam needs to see me-"

I feel my high wear off again. My heart drops into my stomach, my shoulders automatically slumping. "I have to go home, don't I?"

Dean's jaw tightens as regret and pity flit back and forth across his face, almost as if he was torn between ditching Sam for me or ditching me for Sam. His hair is already drying, and I note that it isn't carefully styled - it's been trained to lift that way.

"Take your jacket off," he says suddenly, shifting the car out of park.

Panic shoots through my veins as I flash back to this morning, where I'd woken up on my living room floor, my clothes shredded and black with what I assumed to be soot, my arms covered in scratches and bruises, long purplish marks that wrap around my arms like spindly fingerprints. My knuckles are scratched to high hell, the backs of my hands resembling scratching posts.

Whatever it was under the streetlight last night, whatever it was that Blurry hid me for, had done this to me. And I didn't want Dean to see it.

Dean pulls away from the curb and shoots me a weird look. "What? Are you shy now?" He chuckles awkwardly, his mouth contorted.

"Uh..."

He shrugs. "Alright. Whatever." He starts to zip around the corner, the car fishtailing momentarily. "You ready to say hi to Sam again?" He asks, laughing a little under his breath.

I immediately perk up, straightening my posture. "Wait," I start, a little too cheerfully, "I get to come with you?"

We come to a stop sign and he winks flirtatiously as he says, "That's generally the idea, Sabby."

I slap his arm and his laugh fills the cabin of the car, vibrating the frame once more and setting my veins on fire. "Stop that!" I giggle, grinning widely, closing my eyes and shaking my head. "Do you plan on keeping that up around Sam?"

He shrugs, smirking a bit, his eyes lighting up with repressed laughter. He's all smiles. "I think Sam's just going to have to get used to it." He beams at me momentarily, his warm hazel eyes bright and amused, his eyebrows arched, waiting for my reply.

I shake my head again. "Dean Winchester, I don't know what to do with you."

We come to a red light behind a few other cars. He rests his elbow on the console between the seats, leaning closer to me, his face a few inches away. "You could," he trails, mischeif in his voice, "kiss me again." His warm breath tumbles over my face, his parted pink lips revealing his perfect pearly whites.

"If you insist." I lean towards him, poised to kiss his mouth, but at the last second, I dart to the side and kiss his cheek instead. I pull back, cackling, as the light turns green.

"That's not fair!" He complains, slamming his hand against the top of the steering wheel, unable to hide his minor delightedness at the situation.

As the light turns green, he turns his blinker off and rather than turn left, he keeps going straight. "What are you doing?" Fear creeps into my voice, wrapping around my throat, holding me hostage.