Work Text:
Dean has been quiet for three days.
Not silent, exactly, because silence would have made people ask questions, because Dean always knew how to fill space when he needed to. He could make a joke, throw an insult across the room, have Tucker do some dumb task, flirt with a waitress, complain about a professor, all of it was easy and effortless enough that anyone who wasn’t paying attention would think he was fine.
But Beau was paying attention.
That was the problem with best friends. They saw the things everyone else missed. They noticed when the jokes came half a second too late, when the smile didn’t stick, when Dean spent too long looking at his phone and then too long pretending he hadn’t been looking at all. Beau never said anything, which Dean appreciated, because Dean didn’t want to talk about Allie.
He didn’t want to say out loud that technically she hadn’t done anything wrong, and somehow that everything worse. They weren’t together, she hadn’t cheated. She hadn’t broken a promise. She was single and hurt and confused, and Dean knew all of that. He knew it so clearly it made him feel like an asshole for being wounded.
But he is.
He’s wounded in some stupid, deep place he didn’t realize was exposed until she reached it.
So, when Beau came over that afternoon and shoved an Xbox controller at him, Dean let him. They fell into the familiar rhythm of hockey on the screen, and for a while, it almost works. The game gave his hands something to do and Beau gave him something to focus on that wasn’t the memory of Allie’s face when she told him she completed the assignment.
Then Beau’s phone buzzes.
Dean only notices because when Beau reads it, he goes completely still and his brows pull together in a frown.
“What?” Dean asks as he pauses the game.
Beau locks his phone and pushes himself off the couch abruptly.
“I gotta go.”
Dean’s stomach shifts as Beau grabs for his keys from the coffee table.
“Go where?”
“I’ll be back.”
“Beau.”
Beau stops at the door, but he doesn’t turn around fully. That, more than anything, make’s Dean’s skin prickle. His best friend finally glance back at him and gives a small sigh.
“Just stay here,” Beau says, quieter now. “No matter what you hear, okay?”
Then he’s gone and Dean is left standing in the middle of the living room for several seconds after the door shuts, controller loose in his hands. He almost follows him, almost calls him to demand an explanation, but the worried look on Beau’s face is enough to keep Dean exactly where he is.
By the time everyone gets back to the house, the anxious feeling still hasn’t left Dean’s stomach. It sits under his ribs like a stone and though he tries to act normal, his entire body is tense. It’s ten minutes later when Jules comes racing down the stairs with their phone in their hand and a worried look and everyone pauses.
“Have you guys seen the video that’s going around?”
Logan sits up from chair he was lounging on, while Garrett and Tucker walk in from the kitchen.
“What video?” Logan asks.
Jules twists their phone around and a second later, there’s a shaking video of the Briar U Quad on the gossip Instagram page. At first, Dean isn’t sure what he’s looking at, it appears to be a guy and a girl arguing, the girl waving her arms about while the guy points at her.
Then, he sees it… it’s Allie and her ex Sean.
The sound at first is only the gasps of the person taking the video, then the video zooms in and he can hear Sean’s shouted words.
“That’s all you do, Allison! You take and take! You chew people up and spit them out! You don’t give a shit who you hurt as long as you get what you want! I should have known what a slut you were from the beginning!”
Dean sees red. He watches as Allie goes completely still at Sean’s words, her body seeming to become like a steel pole before Sean stomps away and the video ends.
“What the fuck,” Logan whispers.
“It’s everywhere,” Jules mumbles.
The front door opening makes them all look up and they see Hannah standing there, her face etched with worry.
“Is Allie here?”
Garrett walks up to his girlfriend first, but it’s Tucker that says, “No, why would she be here?”
The pit in Dean’s stomach starts to get deeper.
“I can’t get ahold of her,” Hannah tries to sound calm, and she looks down at her phone. “Today is the anniversary of her mother’s death and… we usually spend it together watching old movies her mom loved, but when I woke up this morning she was gone and she’s not answering her phone.”
Dean tries to remember if he knew this information, but he didn’t… she never mentioned it.
“Maybe she just wants to be alone?” Garrett offers, a reassuring hand going to the small of Hannah’s back.
Hannah shakes her head. “No, she didn’t. She’s… she’s been having a rough time the last couple days, feeling guilty about something—” Dean jaw twitches. “—I figured it had to do with Sean and we talked just last night about spending the day together. But then I couldn’t get a hold of her…”
Jules walks up to show Hannah the video and Dean’s worry turns to anger again. He could rip Sean’s head off for saying those things to her, and especially on the anniversary of her mother’s death? He’s such a fucking asshole. Dean pulls his phone from his pocket, thumb swiping and the screen automatically opens to their text thread. The same one he had been staring at earlier, when he was contemplating on texting her before Beau showed up.
Beau.
“This isn’t good,” Hannah says her voice now fully worried. “This isn’t good, Garrett we have to find her.”
Before anyone can respond, the front door slams open and they all turn.
Beau stumbles into the house with one arm wrapped tightly around Allie’s waist while the other holds the wrist of her left arm around his shoulders. For one, terrifying second, Dean thinks she’s injured. Her head is rolling about like she doesn’t have control of it, her hair is tangled across her face, and her knees seem to be barely working.
Then she finally lifts her face and blinks at the room with glassy, unfocused eyes.
Hannah gives a small cry before she rushes over to her friend, her hands instantly cupping her face.
“Allie?”
Allie smiles at her, but it’s a strange smile, like one someone would make when they don’t know how to smile at all.
“Hi, Han!”
The words are so slurred, they barely count as words.
Dean doesn’t move, he can’t. Something ugly rises in his throat as he takes in the state of her, her too pale skin the smeared mascara, then unfocused eyes, the way she’s using Beau to keep upright. This isn’t Allie after a fun night out, this isn’t her silly drunk or loud drunk or singing musicals too loud drunk.
This is past that… far past it.
This is dangerous.
Hannah lifts Allie’s head up and brushes her thumbs across her cheeks. “Al, look at me. Do you think you were slipped something?”
Garrett tenses behind his girlfriend and Dean’s hands curl at his sides. If anyone tried to drug her, he’ll kill them.
Allie blinks slowly, like she’s trying to remember how to speak and Beau shakes his head.
“Bartender told me she’s been there for hours drinking by herself not talking to anyone.”
Hannah gives a small sigh.
“Allie, when was the last time you ate?”
Allie’s head lulls to the side again and she mumbles, “Hot Cheetos.”
Hannah inhales sharply. “Allie, sweetie, that was last night. Did you drink all day on an empty stomach?”
Allie makes a small face, almost apologetic, and then her expression changes. The little bit of color she had left, drained out of her faster than anything Dean has ever seen. She puts a hand to her mouth, and Garrett is rushing forward in an instant to get on Allie’s other side.
“Bathroom!” Hannah snaps.
Everyone moves at once, Hannah clearing the path as Beau and Garrett hurry Allie down the hall. The bathroom door bangs open, seconds before the sound of Allie vomiting fills the hall. Beau and Garrett move and Hannah shuts the door behind them.
The vomiting stops and they can all hear a groan, then water running and Allie whining, “No, Hannah, I don’t want to!”
There’s a gagging noise and the vomiting starts again.
Garrett turns to Beau, his expression dark. “Where the hell was she?”
Beau’s jaw tightens. “Bar off campus.” His eyes flick once to Dean before moving back to Garrett. “I got a text from her phone from the bartender. He said someone needed to pick her up.”
“Why did he text you?” Logan asks, confused.
“Because the dumbass bartender thought Beau was short for boyfriend.”
Dean’s eyes go wide just as the sound of gagging stops again. Not long after they hear Allie cry, “Hannah, that’s cold!”
“I got there and some asshole was all over her,” Beau huffs out in disgust and Dean doesn’t think he’s ever felt so angry in his entire life. “I broke his nose then got her in the car.”
“Did she say anything?” Tucker asks.
Beau looks at Dean and he swallows a lump in his throat. His best friend says no, but Dean can tell he’s lying. She said something, and that something was probably about Dean.
“Wellsy said it’s the anniversary of her mom’s death,” Garrett tells Beau. “I guess she’s taking it harder this year.”
No one says anything after that.
The silence is somehow worse because it’s not really silence. There’s Allie’s ragged breathing behind the door, Hannah’s low voice murmuring to her, the occasional splash of water from the sink… all of it made Dean stare at the floor because looking at anyone else make’s his stomach want to twist. After a moment, Logan, Jules and Tucker leave, the situation too uncomfortable for them, and Dean can feel Garrett’s eyes on him. Probably wondering why Dean is still standing there but, he doesn’t say anything. He just crosses his arms and waits incase his girlfriend needs anything.
Eventually, the worst of the sickness quiets, and for a minute there’s only Hannah’s voice before the sound of the shower is turned on.
Then… Allie starts crying.
It’s not loud at first, it comes out small, barely heard over the running water, but then it’s unmistakable, and Dean’s chest tightens.
“Oh, sweetie,” Hannah murmurs from behind the door. “It’s going to be okay.”
Allie says something but the words are too broken to make out.
“You’re okay, I’ve got you.” Hannah’s voice is gentle and comforting.
There’s a pause, then they all hear Allie sob, “I ruin everything.”
Dean closes his eyes and Garrett curses Sean under his breath, but Beau… Beau simply lifts his head and when Dean looks at him, he looks away.
Beau knows something they don’t.
Hannah shushes her friend. “Allie, what Sean said, that’s not true.”
“It is true, I hurt him.”
“Who, Sean?”
“No,” Allie sobs and the house seems to tilt. “My mom would be so disappointed in me.”
Hannah says something back to her, something Dean doesn’t catch because he’s too busy looking at his best friend. It’s then he knew, she wasn’t talking about Sean. He knew with a certainty so immediate it made him feel sick and Beau’s look just about confirms it.
She’s talking about him.
“I hurt him,” Allie says again, quieter this time, and it nearly undoes him.
For three days, Dean has lived inside his own pain like it was the only thing that existed, because he somehow imagined that she was completely untouched by what happened. Maybe not happy, but fine enough to go on, fine enough not to call, fine enough to leave him with a confession he regretted only because of how badly it landed.
But Allie doesn’t sound fine… she sounds destroyed.
Hannah keeps talking, still trying to comfort her through what she thought was an old wound, while Dean stands outside the door with the new one bleeding quietly in his hands.
A few minutes later, the bathroom opens just enough for Hannah to slip out. Her face is flushed and her eyes are worried.
She looks at Garrett and asks, “Can I borrow clothes for her? Something big? Sweats, a shirt, anything?”
Before anyone can answer, Dean steps forward. Hannah looks at him confused, but he lightly pushes her aside. Before he can touch the door, Beau catches his arm gently while Garrett asks what he’s doing. Dean doesn’t answer, he just looks at Beau, whose eyes move back and forth between his before he lets go.
“Dean—” Hannah starts, but he ignores her.
He pushes open the bathroom door to see Allie in the tub under the spray of the shower with her knees pulled to her chest. Her eyes are blood shot and her shoulders shake from her tears. When she looks up at him, she breathes his name like it’s the only thing she can say.
“Dean.”
“Baby,” he whispers and there’s a gasp from behind him.
Without looking back, Dean closes the bathroom door and the second the knob clicks, Allie breaks. One sob, then another, her whole body folding inward almost like she’s hoping she can make herself disappear if she stays small enough.
“I’m sorry,” she chokes out, and Dean’s throat tightens so badly it hurts. “I’m so sorry.”
He doesn’t think, he just steps into the tub, the shower head soaking through his clothes as he sits behind her, pulling her into his arms.
“I know,” he whispers, his voice coming out rougher than he meant it to.
For a while, that was all there was. Water drumming against the porcelain, Allie crying into his shirt and Dean pressing his cheek to her wet hair. He didn’t know how to fix this, didn’t know if it could be fixed tonight or tomorrow or ever… he only knew he couldn’t leave her alone believing she was terrible.
“I didn’t mean to hurt you,” she cries and he swallows.
He presses his lips to her temple.
“I know, Allie.”
She shakes her head, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “No, you don’t. I messed it all up, I always mess it up.”
Something in Dean shifts then. Not healed, not magically fixed. The hurt is still there, lodged deep, but it moves over enough to make room for something bigger, something more urgent than pride or jealously or the ugly little voice that spent three days telling him he should have known better.
“Look at me,” he murmurs and Allie twists to look back at him over her shoulder.
He wants to tell her it doesn’t matter, but he can’t, because it did. He wants to tell her he wasn’t hurt, but he can’t, because he is. He wants to say something smooth and charming and perfectly Dean, something that would make her laugh through the tears and make this easier for both of them.
Instead, he kisses the tip of her nose and tells the truth.
“I’m hurt, but I don’t hate you.” Allie’s breath hitches and he reaches up to cup her cheek. “You didn’t ruin everything, you hear me? You didn’t.”
She cries harder after that, but differently. Less like she was falling apart alone, more like maybe, for one second, she believed him enough to stop fighting the hands trying to catch her.
Dean stays holding her until Hannah comes in with towels for them both. She doesn’t ask what’s going on, but Dean doesn’t miss the way her and Garrett both stare wide eyed when they see Dean holding Allie. He helps Hannah rinse Allie off and when they are done, he wraps a towel around her and picks her up into his arms.
He once again ignores the confused looks of his friends as he walks down the hall, uncaring about the dripping water from his clothes, down to his room.
“Try to get her to eat something,” Hannah calls out to him and Dean only nods before he shuts them both into his room.
And when Allie whispers one more apology into his neck, barely conscious now, Dean rests his mouth against her temple and says, “I know, baby. I know.”