Window

14.

That night, as Emma sat on her floor, knees pulled up to her chest, there was a knock at her window. A tired breath slipped through her lips, the usual spark of excitement extinguished. Her eyes slowly moved to the window where the shadow of a figure loomed. 

At the sound of a second knock, Emma knew there was no point in ignoring him. Running her hands over her tear stained face, Emma leaned against the wall before pushing herself up to her feet. Her vision spun for a moment, a feeling of exhaustion hanging on her muscles, left by the act of sobbing. 

Walking forward, Emma's bare feet padded against the cool carpet. Her hands grabbed the window, pushing it open to reveal the dark world that lay under the cloudy sky. Cool air seeped into her room, chilling her to the core, which was already numb. 

Dean stood with nervous eyes, a tentative smile on his face. Tucking his hands in his pockets, Dean shifted from foot to foot as he waited for something to happen. He sensed it immediately, a darkness that rolled off of the usually bright girl. Desperate to break the silence, Dean said, "Hey." 

A sigh escaped Emma as she spotted a purple bruise sprawled across his cheekbone. It became apparently clear to her that things hadn't changed, not really. Dean read the disappointment that rested in her dark brown eyes, his stomach churning with nerves. "Can I come inside?" he ventured, desperate to fix the problems that he had created. 

Shrugging her shoulders, Emma took a step back from the window. Eyebrows furrowing in confusion, Dean began to understand that Emma was unhappy, unhappy with him. But after a moment more of standing in the cold, evening air, Dean climbed in through the window. 

It took a moment for his sensitive eyes to adjust to the room that was lit in soft light beaming from the lamp that stood in the corner of the room. He quickly spotted Emma who leaned against her desk, her arms crossed over her chest. 

With a sigh, Emma finally began to speak. "Did you go missing for the last few days? Or did you just decide to ignore me?" she questioned, a mix of anger and hurt swirling in her eyes that stared into Dean's. 

Dean blinked his wide eyes, guilt stabbing his heart as his mistake was quickly revealed. "I should've texted or called, I'm sorry. But I was doing what you said. I was getting it together. No more alcohol, no more stupid stuff. I promise" Dean argued, his lips pulling up in a smile that he hoped would please her. 

But Emma's shoulders only sunk, her head shaking slowly. "Then you've already broken your first promise. What's with the bruise on your face? Get into another stupid fight?" Emma asked numbly, a gloomy expression resting on her features. 

Silence hung between them, a trembling breath escaping Dean. His eyes were wide as they stared into Emma's, wishing that with a look, she could understand. Because as much as he wanted to, Dean couldn't bring himself to say it. He couldn't bring himself to tell the truth. So after a moment, he directed his wounded gaze to the floor. 

Scoffing quietly, Emma nodded. "That's what I thought" she muttered, gnawing her lower lip. Her eyes moved towards her window, hoping that averting her gaze would hide the immense disappointment that continued to weigh on her body. She didn't understand, but how could she? He hadn't told her, and couldn't bring himself to. To her, he was just a boy stuck in a vicious cycle, too stubborn to pull himself out of it. 

"Dean, you've got to stop whatever you're doing. You can't keep getting yourself into these situations. Do you know how worried it makes me? When you show up at my window with bruises and cuts? It scares me, Dean, and I'm sure it worries your family and friends. So whatever it is, just please, stop" Emma pleaded, Dean's eyes lifting as he began to realize that it was not anger that fueled her disappointment, but worry.