Magnetic

Drunken Amnesia

"Y/N, wake up!" Dean's voice sounded right next to your ear, before his hand playfully slapped your butt, waking you right up.

"Dean!" You exclaimed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes before you glared at him. He was already dressed, a huge smile on his face as if he hadn't gone on a binge the night before. His duffel bag was on the floor next to him, and a cup of coffee was in his hands. His eyes were a little red, the only indication that he had been completely drunk the night before. 

"Not my fault you were such a sleepy head. I tried waking you up earlier but you wouldn't budge." He teased, as you sat up in bed. You didn't miss the way his eyes traveled the bare expanse of your legs as you kicked off the covers, swinging your legs over the side.

"Seriously, how are you that perky this morning? You smelt as if you had downed an entire brewery last night." You retorted, stretching your arms over your head, wondering how much he remembered about last night. If he remembered any of his admissions, or the way he pleaded with you to stay the night. The way he had pulled you tight into his arms, kissing the top of your head before falling straight asleep.

Dean unconsciously  slipped his tongue out of his mouth, wetting his lower lip as  your upper thighs were revealed when you stretched your arms. You had forgotten that you were only wearing a sleep shirt, a short one at that, but you rather enjoyed the feel of his gaze taking in your bare skin. 

"Dean, how do you feel? What do you remember about last night?" You asked him as you slid out of bed, moving to walk by. Grabbing your wrist, he stopped you, his lips next to your ear, his grasp warm against your skin.

"I feel fine. But as to last night, I don't remember much. Just bits and pieces, nothing after I came back to the bunker. But I did enjoy waking up with you in my arms this morning." He whispered, and you pulled back to stare him in the eyes. His normally cocky demeanor did little to hid the fact that he was attempting to avoid your gaze. It made you wonder if he did remember, but didn't want you to know. It wouldn't surprise you, the fact that Dean didn't want to remember his little admission last night. He wouldn't want anyone to feel sorry for him, or pity him.

"So, you don't remember seeing me naked?" You teased, waiting for his reaction.

Watching as he licked his lip again, he glanced down at your loose sleep shirt, before shaking his head slightly. "Sweetheart, that didn't happen. Because I sure as hell wouldn't forget a body like that."

"Well then maybe you remember more than you're letting on." You insisted, just as Sam's voice rang throughout the Bunker's hallway.

"Dean, have you seen Y/N? She's the one who found the hunt, and we need to get going!" 

"I'm right here Sam!" You exclaimed, leaving a disgruntled Dean behind as you walked past a curious Sam to your bedroom. He followed you, standing in the doorway as you pulled on a pair of jeans under your sleep shirt.

"So, you were in Dean's room last night." He hedged, and you hid a smile, knowing Sam was caught in the middle of two people he cared about. 

"I was. But nothing happened. At least not that Dean says he remembers anyway." You answered, turning your back and slipping on a t-shirt while Sam was nice enough to look away. 

"So something happened then?" Sam asked, confused as you turned back to face him, grabbing a bag and throwing some clothes inside. 

Smiling softly, the conversation last night still fresh in your mind, you shrugged. "Not what you're implying. But Dean did happen to mention the reason he turned cold to me once again." 

"And that would be?" Sam asked, checking in the hallway to make sure Dean wasn't within hearing distance.

"He said he's afraid I'll leave him. He doesn't want to get too close to me to only have me leave him. He said everybody he's cared for has left him, even you." You answered, pulling on your favorite gray and blue flannel, your boots the last things you put on. Your words weren't condescending, just truthful. You already knew that things had happened between the brothers, but they were over it, and you didn't want  to hurt him.

Sam frowned. "I thought that might be the reason. Dean has a soft heart, one that he doesn't let other people see. That's why he keeps it so closed off, because it hits him hard when people leave. Like our Mom, Dad, Bobby. The list could go on, and that's why he's so careful.

"But you left him?" You asked as you threw your bag over your shoulder. 

"A couple of times. But most of them weren't my fault. I was either dead, or in hell." 

You had started to learn more about the Winchester's history, and you had known they had both died a few times. "Weren't you dead in hell?" 

Sam shook his head. "Nope. Just trapped. But I think the time that hurt him the most was when I didn't look for him when he was sent to purgatory. I hit a dog, and stayed for the vet."

"That's a story you are definitely going to tell me." You said as you followed him down the hallway. You could already hear the Impala running, so you knew Dean was waiting for you in the garage. "But Sam, do you think I'll ever get Dean to trust that I'm not going to leave him?"

Patting you on the back, Sam moved to open the door. "I think he already does. He just needs to make himself see that. So, don't give up Y/N. I think you are a good thing for my brother."

"There you two slowpokes are. Was about ready to head out on my own." Dean grumbled from the side of the Impala. 

"Jerk." Sam grumbled, and you heard Dean answer "Bitch." As you climbed into the backseat, more than ready to get out on a new hunt.