The Professor

Part 2 - Chapter Fifty-One

I wake up the next morning alone in the bed. The sun is shining through the window and Dean's side of the bed is vacant. I shoot up in the bed and cling the sheets tighter to my body, careful to not expose to myself even though there's no one else in the bedroom. I climb out of the bed and i'm surprised at how weak they are when I fumble to stand. Dean must've really done me good last night. 

I wrap my body with the robe lying on the chair by the window and pause when I see how clean the room is. All the drawers that were lying on the floor from Dean's rampage last night are back in the dresses. Including the one he slung against the wall. Puzzled, I carefully open the bedroom door and peak out into the rest of the apartment. No one is there.

I step fully out of the room and into the empty apartment. The shattered glass Dean threw last night is swept up and Dean is no where in sight. I walk to the counter in the kitchen to see if he left a note behind telling me where he went. To my dismay, I find nothing. My curiosity and wonder starts to grow on his safety and where he is so I run back to the bedroom to get my phone from my purse. There are no missed calls or texts. 

I click his contact and press the call button when I hear the front door open. I run out of the bedroom and see Dean walking in carrying a to-go tray of coffee a brown paper bag. He smiles at me softly and I end the call on my phone. "You scared me," I say. "I didn't know where you were."

"I went to get breakfast," he says as he carefully sets the food and coffee on the counter. "I figured a fresh cup of coffee and a pastry was the least I could do after last night."

I meet him at the counter. "That's very thoughtful of you."

Dean looks at me softly. "Claire, I--"

"No need for an apology," I stop him. "I'd rather not resurface whatever that was."

"I do need to apologize. The things I said last night... none of that was true. I was just very angry and you were trying to help. I shouldn't have lashed out like I did and I feel really bad for it."

I open the pastry bag and pull out the cinnamon scone he bought. "It's fine. I understand."

"No. You don't." Dean walks around the counter to where i'm standing and faces me with a sigh. "There's a lot of things that's happened with my family that you don't know about and last night you got caught in the crossfire."

I set the scone down on a napkin and look up to him. "I don't know what all has happened. I have my guesses, but you won't tell me."

Dean's eyes grow soft and he nods his head. "I probably should."

I shake my head and avoid his stare. "It's fine, Dean, you don't want to and I shouldn't push it out of you so it's--" I start to walk away when he stops me by grabbing my arm gently.

"Claire, wait." He pauses. His eyes find mine and he takes a deep breath. "I'll tell you everything you want to know. Why don't we sit and talk?"

"Really?" I ask him shocked.

Dean smiles softly. "Really."

"Sure. Let's sit on the couch."

I reach to grab the coffee tray and scone as Dean and I walk to the couch. I take a few steps when all of a sudden...

The coffee drops out of my hands, spilling onto the floor. I let go of the scone in my other and I gasp at the sharp pain that feels like knives shooting in my body. I hear Dean call out my name but I can't respond as I slowly start to collapse to the floor. Dean's arms catch me before I hit the hard surface and it's as if everything is going in slow motion. 

The pain in my stomach intensifies, causing me to squeeze my eyes shut and scream. Dean holds onto me tight and his concerned words sound like faint muffles in my ear as I'm too absorbed in the pain. I start to feel wetness between my legs and I force my head to look down and see the growing pool of blood between my legs. I feel as if I could hardly breathe.

My eyes slowly drift to Dean who's looking at me with tears in his own eyes and I try to speak. I'm unsure of what I say before my eyes close and all I see is darkness.