The sun may have been shining, but no brightness existed within the motel room's walls. There was no happiness, no love. Just irritation, frustration, and a whole hell of a lot of angry words thrown into the gauntlet. It wasn't their first fight-not even close-but it was by far their worst yet. Worse than the fight that they'd had when Dean caught Sam drinking her blood, worse than the fight that they'd had when Dean wanted to run off and chase a ghost on a broken leg. Those were child play compared to this. As far as Ryan could tell, this fight was sealing the deal. Nailing the coffin, ending their ten year love affair, locking the door and throwing away the key.
Dean continued to silently surf Sam's laptop, pretending to be engaged. Every once and while, Ryan glanced over to him, her nostrils flaring with anger. There was no doubt in her mind that she was right about this, that even though he'd apologized, he'd need to give her a lot more reassurance. But after the crime that he'd committed, she wasn't sure that she would ever be convinced again.
After what felt like hours of continuous silence, Dean shut the laptop and turned around to find Ryan still looking at him. Her jaw clenched, her expression remaining hard. He remained seated, and for a few moments, they did nothing but stare. Where there was once so much love, appreciation and understanding, there was now only disbelief and anger that was inching toward hatred.
"How long are we gonna do this?" he asked.
Ryan scoffed, a disbelieving smile lingering on her lips.
"You're joking, right?"
"No. I'm not tryin' to pretend here, Ryan, I know that I was wrong. What more do you want from me? I can't change what happened."
"You slept with her!"
"I slept with you!"
"You," she raised her pointer finger, "of all people… should have been able to tell the difference."
He was silent. Her eyebrows furrowed as tears shielded over her eyes. The disappointment hanging in the air was almost tangible. As hard as she tried to find it in herself to understand that it wasn't another woman entirely, she couldn't see past the fact that it was a completely different person-a demon, no less-just in her body. Dean had had sex with someone that wasn't her. And what made it worse for her, was that he thought it was. He couldn't tell the difference between his fiancée and the demon that had once turned every single bone in his body into dust.
A horn sounded from outside of the room, and Ryan stood. She grabbed her jacket, phone and duffle bag in one motion.
"I'm sorry…" he said, grief stricken.
She stood still, staring at the floor. After a few moments, she glanced up at him, nothing in her face except numbness.
"I wish that was enough."
With that, she walked out of the room without giving Dean a second glance.