''Ouch''

Groaning he sat up, his hand immediately moving to the back of his head, subconsciously searching for the spot where he had just been hit. A sudden sharp pain burst through his skull as his fingers traced over a gash at the base of his head, forcing him to catch his breath sharply. It had almost healed over but that didn't help the pain. Dean withdrew his hand and instead attempted to sit up, causing him to become light headed and fall back against what he realized was an extremely uncomfortable mattress. Giving up he rolled over onto his side in the act of trying to get to his feet again. The ground disappeared from under him, leaving him momentarily airborne for a small fraction for a second until his body connected heavily with a stone floor.

This time however, he did manage to stand on his own two legs again. He stood surrounded by the stench of what he thought to be sulfur mixed in with something else, the room was dark making it barely possible to see. Dean had lost sense of time and place, he had no recollection to how he had gotten to where he was and how much time had passed. He searched through his last memories before he blacked out.

''Can you even get drunk anymore?''

His brother's words made their way to the front of Dean's mind as he finished off yet another whiskey. He didn't bother counting anymore, what was the point? He couldn't even remember the last time he was full on drunk or even tipsy, it was like he had built a tolerance towards alcohol. It didn't particularly worry him, at this point he was just glad there was a bar in the area.

His eyes scanned the bar, a few underage teenagers with fake ID's arguing with the aggravated bartender, a guy in his late forties who appeared to have passed out and a few more looking as if they were trying to drown their problems through the drunken bliss of alcohol. His eyes lingered on them longer than the others, Dean could relate to them. After everything that had happened in the last few weeks...scratch that, the last few years of his entire life had been hell! Both for him and his little brother.

He locked the memories into the very back of his mind not wanting to think anymore, so instead he turned his attention back to his surroundings, looking for some sort of distraction.

He caught sight of a young woman walking directly towards him. She wore an apron and a tray was balanced neatly on the palm of one hand, her dark hair moving swiftly behind her catching the colors from the dim restaurant lights. She appeared slightly flustered and blushing, her smile was enticing and warm. A small collection of freckles covered her cheeks and were brought together through a small trail leading over the bridge of her nose.

Lauren, that was her name, he caught a quick glance at the posh writing on the name tag positioned above her left breast. Dean looked up at her from where he sat and flashed his most gorgeous smile reserved for picking up woman at the local bars. Lauren's cheeks became a deeper pink, Dean noticed then, the unusual color of her eyes. The gradient mixture of grey and green grew slightly brighter as her face became more flushed.

She sat down on the seat opposite him, placing the tray in front of her. She lifted a large glass and began to slide it along the width of the table towards Dean. He reaches over and takes it gently, touching her hand in the process. The moment their fingers touched she withdrew her hand to instead toy with the straps of her apron nervously, all without saying a word to him.
He looked curiously at the glass now in his hand.

''I brought you a refill.''

Dean lifted his gaze to her face as she spoke. Her voice was hesitant but confident at the same time.

''Thanks''
Dean's voice on the other hand was charming and calm as it always was in these situations.

''It's on the house, meaning, im buying.''

''What makes me so special?''
His intent on teasing her was made clear by the voice put behind his words.

'' You look as if you've had a rough day, talking about it usually helps.''

''Half of these people here have the same look.''
He gestured a hand briefly in the direction of the others sat at the bar drinking with subdued, far away expressions.

''Just take the drink.''

-(Lauren's Perspective)- -

Lauren knew her voice had faltered slightly, but was able to recover quickly. She felt a sudden stab of pride towards herself at how good an actress she was. Pride may be one of the Seven Deadly Sins but what did she care? She was damned to hell centuries ago. She was over three hundred years of age, she didn't look it, not wearing this petite freckled waitress.

Dean liked her, she knew he would, that was the whole point of this meat puppet. She liked it too, normally she would prefer the stronger, broad type but this one...This one had secrets. On the outside her family had seen her as their success, their little angel. That just goes to prove how little parents knew about their innocent off spring.

Dean wasn't like most hunters, he was the legendary Winchester, Heaven's secret weapon and the eldest of the two brothers destined to be the vessels. He was the perfect vessel for any Demon or Angel. If she wasn't so heartless she'd feel sorry for what her and her partner had planned for him, but for now she needed to stick to the plan. Their plan.

To Be Continued...

Any additional idea's i can add to the next chapter are welcome :)