Chapter Text
“Alright, dude, I think it's time for you to leave now… You have had one too many.” The bartender told the drunk man currently chugging his fifth beer.
The guy brought his green eyes up off of his bottle to look at the man speaking to him. The green eyed male rolled his glass in his hand before accidentally dropping it to the floor, watching it shatter into pieces. The bartender groaned in annoyance while the drunk one looked down and chuckled.
“Oops… Did I do that?” He asked, slurring his words slightly. The bartender sighed, clearly ready to deck the man. He walked around the bar and grabbed his arm to drag him out.
“Hell, at least take me to dinner first!” The man laughed as he was practically flung out of the door. He stumbled to stand correctly while mumbling under his breath.
“Son of a bitch.” He groaned as he staggered to his black ‘67 Chevy Impala, then paused. He banged his head against the top of his baby, realizing he was in no state to be driving tonight. The man grumbled profanities to himself.
“Taxi!” He heard a feminine voice call. He turned towards the noise and through semi-glazed eyes, he saw a pretty girl in a light blue dress and dark brown hair, hailing a cab.
“Hey, miss!” He called out to her, walking towards her. She turned to him, with an eyebrow raised.
“May I help you?” She asked. He chuckled to himself slightly as he saw her reach for the can of pepper spray attached to her bag. He smiled at her, holding his hands up in defense.
“Ma’am, I'm not going to try anything. Just wanted to ask if we can share a cab. As you can see, I'm not really able to drive.” He explained. She gave him a weary glance, but he didn't seem like he would harm her by the genuine look in his beautiful green eyes. She relaxed and sighed.
“Okay, but if you try something funny, I will not hesitate to scream and spray you.” She warned. The green eyed stranger laughed, bowing in mock appreciation. She smiled, holding out her hand.
“Evans. Laela Evans.” She introduced. He took her hand and shook it.
“Winchester. Dean Winchester.” He replied. Just then, the cab driver pulled up by them. Dean gestured into the cab, opening the door.
“Ladies first.” He stated. Smiling, she climbed into the cab with Dean following behind her. They gave the instructions to the driver then sat in an awkward silence. Laela kept sneaking glances at Dean out of the corner of her eye. He was tense despite the alcohol that had clearly intoxicated his body and mind. The constant awkward glances kept going until finally they felt the cab slow to a stop and the taxi driver mutter a few profanities about the traffic they were now stuck in. He turned to the both of them with an apologetic look on his face.
“You folks better get comfortable...I think we are going to be here for a while.” He stated to them before turning back around, pulling out his phone and playing a game on it. Laela sighed and ran a hand through her long dark hair before turning to Dean.
“Well, we are going to be stuck with each other for Lord knows how long. Might as well make the most of it…” She told Dean. He smirked and faced her, wiggling his eyebrows. Laela tried to keep a straight face, but burst into laughter, Dean joining her. They began asking each other questions like: favorite color, favorite food, movie, etc. Soon enough though, they ran out of the generic questions. It was quiet for a few minutes.
“So, live on your own?” Dean asked her.
“No.” She responded.
“Still living with your parents?” He questioned. She shook her head.
“No, I uh, live with my boyfriend.” She said, quietly, chuckling half-heartedly. He noticed her hesitation, even in his drunken state.
“Why the reluctance?” He questioned. She turned to face him once again. She seemed like she was picking her words carefully; she would open and close her mouth trying to get the words out.
“H-he's a jerk. He thinks he's being sneaky, but he really isn't. We've been together for almost four years. Two out of the four cheating his way through life and me…” She explained, looking down. Dean looked at her in shock wondering why the hell she was still putting up with this douche if she knew what was happening.
“Why not just break up with him? You're a beautiful woman and from this short time we've known each other, I can see you're a nice girl. You don't need that son of a bitch.” He explained, somewhat upset that someone could do that to this girl. She blushed at his compliment.
“It's not that simple…I love him...and I just, ugh, I'm just so sick of this town and my life in general. I've honestly given up. I'm just taking whatever comes my way. It's going to suck either way.” Laela told him. Dean, slowly reached out and cupped her cheek in his calloused hand, making her blue eyes meet his green ones.
“Don't give up just yet.” He whispered. They didn't realize that they were moving closer to each other until the cab driver called out to them.
“Hey, uh, hate to interrupt, dude, but we are at your place.” He said to him. They pulled away from each other quickly. Dean cleared his throat and looked out the window. When did they start moving? He sighed, pulling out enough bills to cover his and Laela’s trip.
“See you around, Laela.” He said to her, getting out. She sat there, confused just watching him leave. Dean shut the door and stood there watching the cab drive off with a sigh. He turned to walk into the motel room.
“Dean!” He heard from behind him. He turned just in time to catch the blue eyed brunette who made a running jump into his arms. Before he could process what was happening, she kissed him. He kissed back, loving the feeling he was experiencing, but he passed it off for the alcohol screwing with his emotions. Last thing he remembered was hitting the bed.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dean groaned, rolling over in bed. He heard the door of the room creak open, he tensed slightly, slowly reaching under his pillow to grab his pistol. Once he had a firm grip on it, he quickly flew out of bed, ready to shoot. He groaned, lowering the gun once he realized it was only Sam standing there with a cup of coffee and a couple of painkillers. Dean threw himself back onto the bed, that's when he noticed the draft. His eyes shot open and he quickly pulled the blanket on. Sam just stood there shocked and disturbed.
“Dude, get some clothes on.” He complained, walking over and placing the coffee and pills onto the table, then throwing Dean a pair of pants. Dean quickly got dressed and took the meds. He looked up to Sam confused.
“What the hell happened last night?” He asked Sam. Sammy looked up from the computer with a smirk.
“I don't know. You tell me.” He replied. Dean sat there for a while, just staring at the wall. Then suddenly it hit him like a ton of bricks. He flew up to his feet. Sam looked up quickly. Dean groaned, putting his face in his hands.
“Sammy, I screwed up…” He mumbled, running his hands through his hair. Sam raised an eyebrow.
“Don't you always when you're drunk?” He questioned, unsurprised. Dean faced Sam with a saddened expression on his face.
“No...no, Sammy, this time… I think I did the wrong thing to the right girl.”