Imagine: Getting Drunk and Waking Up in Dean's Bed
Waking up was a lot harder then she thought. She'd come too, grip a blanket tightly to her chest and slip once more into unconsciousness. It wasn't until about the third time that she finally heard soft snores coming from next to her.
Her eyes shot open and she tried to soak in her surroundings. The world still spun around, and the sudden jolt to her body made her stomach turn. She paused, letting herself calm down and the sudden sloshing of an unknown mixture of drinks in her stomach to stop.
She tried to remember, tried to place where she could have ended up. The last thing she could picture was Dean and Sam sitting opposite her in the library, noses shoved in books. When suddenly Charlie came in with bottles in hand and a smile on her lips. Everyone had abandoned their books and replaced their empty hands with glasses instead.
Once more her chest tightened. All she wanted to do was turn to the body next to her, but the thought of any sudden movement forced her up-chuck reflexes to trigger again. She sighed, her hands clutching at her stomach willing it to calm down. Her mind wandered, trying so hard to remember even coming to bed.
X
"You guys haven't shown her the books yet? How could you not show her the books?" Charlie practically jumped out of her seat, making a b-line for her tablet. "You have to read these!" Suddenly a list of books showed up on the screen being shoved in Emma's face.
Emma took the tablet and scrolled through the titles. "Hook Man." Emma read aloud, watching Sam and Dean shake their heads. "Bugs?" The boys cringed, remembering the story well, as if it were possible to forget.
"No! Don't let her read those!" Dean reached his arm out to slap the tablet out of Emma's hand but missed when she twirled out of the seat and stood at a safe distance. Her eyes kept scanning titles, shocked by how many they were.
Emma erupted in laughter as she opened a random book to a random page. "Are these for real?" She asked keeping one eye on Dean and Sam the whole time. Dean had looked like he was going to stand and make his way to her, but he sat back down and poured himself a drink instead.
"What one you reading?" Charlie jumped in her seat, clapping her hands like a small child. She was too excited, like she had discovered gold and shared it with her. "What one are you reading?" She asked again, too excited to wait.
"Route 666?" Emma said, quickly reading more and more into the story. Dean groaned and Sam choked on his current sip of whiskey. "Who's Cassie?" Emma asked in a mocking voice, shaking her hips.
Sam burst out in laughter, clapping his hands and leaning back in his seat. "Skip to the middle!" Sam shouted. Dean hit his brother on the arm before hiding his face in his hands. He leaned down so he was hidden by the table, still groaning and trying to ignore his surrounding friends poking fun at him. Charlie still jumped up in her seat, her eyes jumping from Dean to Emma.
"Cassie scoffed, 'I forgot you do that.'
Dean looked up from the paper he picked up to busy himself with. 'Do what?'
She shook off his question, 'Oh. Whenever we get, what's the word? Close?' Years of built up frustration bubbled inside her rising to the surface. 'Anywhere in the neighborhood of emotional vulnerability, you back off! Or make some joke or find any way to shut the door on me.'
Dean laughed, throwing the papers back down on the desk. 'Oh that's hilarious.' He approached her again till he stood in front of her, this time much closer. 'See I'm not the one who took that big final door and slammed it behind me.'
'Wait a minute.' She leaned closer, listening to his words carefully now.
'And I'm not the one who took the key and buried it.' He continued, unfazed by her outburst to stop him. Cassie and Dean were too caught up in letting out their frustrations to realize just how close they had become. There Dean stood, only a foot of space between them.
'Are we done with this metaphor?' She asked, still listening intently to him as he continued on, as if he couldn't hear her.
'All I'm saying is I was totally up front with you back then and you nailed me with it.' Dean's voice was quieter now, no longer angry. The hurt he felt then was inside of him now; no matter how hard he tried to shove it back down. He didn't want her to know, she couldn't know.
'The guy I'm with, the guy I'm hoping might be in my future, tells me he professionally pops ghost'
'Not the words I used.' This time it was Dean who tried to interrupt her, but like her attempts he failed.
"Bla bla bla. Oh Dean, you got dumped?" Emma quoted the book, using her best Dean impression she could as she repeated the words he once said. She skimmed a few lines before taking back up with reading aloud. Charlie and Sam listened intently, eyes wide and smiles on their faces as if they hadn't heard this story before.
'Cassie looked down at Dean's lips, finally the wall inside of her broken down now that she could confide in Dean the things that had been eating away at her since she left him all those years ago. Dean held his gaze, not sure when the air in the room turned from the tension it held earlier.
Cassie closed the gap between them, her hands pulling Dean closer to her as she kissed him aggressively. She pulled away quickly afterwards with her head foggy. Both Dean and Cassie shared a long look before Dean pulled her back into a kiss.'" Emma stopped reading aloud, but continued on silently to herself.
Dean had sat up during her speech, slinking back what was left in his glass. He poured everyone more, including Emma. He shook his head in disbelief that Charlie had brought up the infamous Carver Edlund books that no one could seem to get rid of. The bane of his existence.
The fact that Sam seemed to be getting kick out of his embarrassment irked him even more. Sam was too far gone, the whiskey bottle almost empty now and he could feel it. Or rather couldn't, with his lips numb.
"Okay okay, you guys had your fun. Put the books away." Dean said, waving his hand in the air and motioning Emma to join the group again.
"You're going to have to email these to me." Emma whispered to Charlie as she handed her back her tablet. Charlie nodded a little too happy with the idea. Though now all Emma wanted to do was curl up in bed and continue on, peering into the life of the two brothers she had thought she knew.
Sam hit his brother back finally, as if he just remembered that Dean had hit him. "What? Don't like Emma knowing about your love interests?" he mocked, sloshing the remainder of his whiskey in his glass to the point where he almost spilled it all over the table.
Dean's face scrunched as the anger grew in him. "How about we pull up one of your little… scenes?" Dean's voice was loud. And as a response Sam held his hands up. "Yeah, not so nice." Dean shook his head and looked away from the crowd around him. He knew getting angry wasn't going to solve anything. Charlie had already made it pretty clear the books were here to stay.
"Okay, sorry guys. I didn't mean to start anything." Charlie joined Sam in raising her hands above her head. "Shots!" Charlie said, trying to clear the air between them all. They all cheered in response and clinked glasses.
X
Emma opened her eyes again, the spinning slowing enough so that she could finally become aware of her surroundings. All she saw at first was the blankets, ones that matched the ones in all the rooms. She groaned, needing more information. The body next to her moved slightly, lifting their leg slightly and smacking their lips.
Emma chose to just get it over with. She turned from her back to her side, facing the limp body. Dean lay next to her, his eyes still closed and his lips slightly parted. Emma closed her eyes tightly, "Damnit." She muttered to herself.
"Not usually what I like to hear in the morning. But I'll take it." Dean said, opening his eyes. He didn't show a reaction to Emma's presence. Instead he gave her a smile, one that reached his even his eyes. He slung his arm behind his head and with the other pulled the blankets up to cover his exposed chest.
"Did we?" Emma asked, hoping that Dean of all people was smart enough to fill in the blank. And hoping beyond hope that the answer was no. She tried to ignore the fact that she only wore her bra and panties, and she didn't bother to question Dean about what he wore.
He laughed, looking over at her again before closing his eyes. "I'm hungry. Know what the best hangover cure is? A greasy breakfast." He didn't wait for her to answer, he slipped out of the bed with one of the blankets wrapped around his waist.
It was now that she noticed they were in his room. The guns on the walls, and the few pictures of his family set out on the table on the side. She cursed again, hugging his blanket close to her for a moment as she tried to remember how on earth she ended up here.
Hurriedly she joined Dean, slipping on the closest clothes she could before running into the hallway. She could hear Dean already clanking away in the kitchen. Emma didn't mean to sneak into the kitchen, but when Dean turned around and found her sitting curled up on a chair he couldn't help but jump.
"Announce yourself or something." He said, clutching to the counter behind him. "Give a man a heart attack." He mumbled returning to his cooking. His heart finally started to beat normally a few moments later.
Sam joined them, running his hands through his hair and throwing himself violently into the seat next to Emma. "How on earth can you two be up already? You stayed up later then everyone else." He groaned, rubbing at his bloodshot eyes.
"What"?" Emma asked. Once more she tried to remember anything from last night. But all she saw was blackness, utter nothingness.
"Yeah. Charlie caved in first. And then I threw in the towel but I could hear you two for hours afterwards." Sam leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. "Are you done cooking yet?" He asked his brother.
"This isn't Denny's." Dean answered.
Emma could vaguely remember everyone else slipping off to bed and leaving her and Dean alone. She could almost make out the jokes they made about how no one else could keep up. And how even Dean was shocked that he might have met his match for drinking partners.
Sam slipped his way out of his chair, causing the wood to slide and ring out into the room. "Sorry." He mumbled, catching himself before he fell. Dean stuck his arm out to stead the younger brother, but Sam made it obvious he didn't want the help. With wobbly steps he made his way out of the room and towards his own. Tiredness calling to him.
Without windows the bunker was excellent at hiding the time of day. The sun could be up, or it could still be pitch black outside and no one would know until they reached the warded and locked door.
Dean shook his head and pinched at the bridge of his nose. "Amateurs." For a moment he thought he was alone, he looked at the empty whiskey bottle and thought about searching for a replacement. When he saw an eager and still wide awake Emma sitting opposite him he knew another bottle was much needed.
X
"Sam's not much of a drinker is he?" Emma asked, looking back to the hallway to make sure that Sam wasn't laying on the floor passed out. When she didn't see any heaps of plaid and hair she assumed that he made his way safely.
"Nope." Dean stood, searching a few shelves in another room for another bottle. "I don't think I have ever seen him so wasted before." He said as he returned, wiping the dust from it and shrugging at the weird unknown title.
"Well we did share a bottle between us all." Emma said, as he sat down and cracked open the new bottle. Thick dark liquid poured out and into her glass. She swirled the liquid and smelt it before bring it to her lips. "How can you be so normal still?" she asked, her face twisted in disgust at the harsh new flavor.
"If it's too gross I can go find something. I'm sure the stock room had more." He motioned to a room off the hallway behind him. He made to stand but Emma's raised hand forced him back into his seat. He poured himself a glass and sniffed the harsh liquid.
"Nope its good. Smooth." She joked. Coughing after finishing the rest of her glass. Dean coughed with her between his laughs. He didn't waist a second after the taste of this hard new alcohol. He quickly returned, a new bottle of whiskey, one they had previously drank and liked.
X
"Where is Charlie?" Emma asked, breaking the silence in the room. Heavy breathing could be heard from Sam, and Dean knew just about as much as she did, proving to be no help. Not that he answered anyway.
"Dean?" Emma stood, her body creaking as she did. "Dean?" She jumped up on the counter next to him. He seemed to intent on his cooking, not taking his eyes off the food.
"Yes?" He asked, stirring the contents before him.
Emma reached for a bite, only to be smacked by the spatula in his hands. "You never answered my question." She gave him an evil look, and as a response her stomach offered its opinion as well. Even dale could hear the deep grumble coming from the girl next to him.
Dean looked back at his brothers sleeping form. He glanced at Emma before returning his attention to the food in front of him once more. He could feel his own stomach growing angry in want of sustenance giving Emma's stomach a run for its money when it too grumbled. Emma groaned. "And apparently I'm still going to have to wait?"
Dean turned off the flame under the pan and set the spatula down. Emma had ceased paying attention to him, her eyes looking at the floor under her now instead. Dean used two fingers to force her to look up at him. He leaned in closer, his lips close to hers. Her eyes were wide, open in shock of the sudden lack of personal space.
Emma closed her eyes in anticipation of his kiss, feeling like time was at a standstill. She could still feel his hand on her cheek and the warmth radiating off of it. And just as suddenly as he appeared there, he disappeared. The warmth of him gone, and a sudden longing feeling for him to return burrowing inside of her.
Dean cleared his throat and clicked on the fire to reheat his cooking. "No, uh. Nothing happened."
Emma finally pried her eyes open and felt her hangover affect her again. "Okay." She said, sliding off the counter so her feet were on the ground once more. The world was spinning around her slightly as she calmed herself down.
"We were too drunk. To messy when you're that wasted." He said his voice seemed emotionless and dry. He glanced at her before she managed to slip away into the hallway. "Son of a bitch." He mumbled to himself.
Emma was torn with the feelings inside of her. Disappointment that Dean Winchester and her hadn't had the chance to get intimate. And yet relieved, because she wouldn't have been able to remember it anyway. She found herself in her bed, holding a pillow close to her chest. She slipped in and out of consciousness only waking when she could hear evident noises that everyone in the bunker was up and moving around.
She could hear Dean cleaning, could hear Sam making his way back to bed a plate in his hands, and could hear Charlie's soft voice speaking to Dean as she pitched in to help him. When things got to quiet Emma felt the longing need to get up, but knew that the world starting to spin around her again was going to keep her glued to the bed.
Footsteps could be heard and approaching her room at a rather quick pace. "Brought you breakfast." Charlie said, in her normal chirpy voice. She stood, a plate of steaming food in her hand, just before Emma's half-awake form.
"Too loud!" Emma groaned, throwing her blanket over her head and turning her back to Charlie.
"Dean says eat. So eat. It'll help with the pain as well. Winchester secret apparently." Emma heard Charlie set the plate next to her on the table. Emma's stomach rumbled at the smell and made Emma turn to face the red head again. Emma reached a hand out, poked at her food, and retreated her hand back to the confinements of her blankets.
Charlie couldn't help but laugh "You okay?" Charlie asked, sitting on the edge of the bed. Her motherly instinct kicked in and she began rubbing small circles into Emma's hip.
Emma sat up, setting the plate in her lap and munching away on the food to avoid answering Charlie. "Okay then." Charlie breathed to herself. "Hey, let's go out and get some fresh air today. Get out of this stuffy bunker."
Emma nodded in agreement, knowing that fresh air, and miles between her and Dean seemed like a great day. And the perfect chance to get her mind wrapped around what she was feeling. "I'm going to clean up, I'll meet you in the library?" Emma asked before slipping out of her room. Charlie gave her a nod as response and made her way back to her own room.
Emma found the kitchen empty, and breathed a sigh of relief. She cleaned her plate, and set out to dry it when she heard Dean's slippers sliding against the ground behind her. "Was it good?" He asked, filling his coffee mug with more coffee.
"It was a perfect stick to your rubs, soak up whiskey breakfast." Emma answered, not taking her eyes off the plate in her hand as she dried it. The mixed feelings from earlier surfaced again, forcing confusion to be blatantly apparent on her face.
Dean leaned against the table, watching her. He tried to read her, understand why all the sudden she acted so stand-off against him. "I thought you'd be relieved." He said before raising the mug to his lips again.
"I am." She practically spat out as an answer. She had been telling herself that all morning after all. "I mean, I'm glad that nothing happened. We were wasted right?" She leaned on one leg, lost in trying to understand the feeling in the pit of her stomach.
"Yeah. I carried you to bed last night." Dean laughed, shaking his head at the memory of slipping his arms under her wobbly legs and carrying her despite her protests. He had been pretty drunk himself, but he knew carrying her would be the fastest most practical option.
"Wow. I'm sorry." She mumbled, feeling the blush creep its way to her cheeks. She hoped her whole face wasn't turning red, she couldn't take anymore embarrassment today. Was Charlie ready? Emma was ready to be out of the bunker now. Anyone could walk in and save her from this conversation now.
"Don't worry about it. At least I know I still hold the crown when it comes to drinking." Dean's smile was contagious, and all previous thoughts went out the window when he flashed her his pearly whites. Dean once again shook his head and looked at the dark coffee in his hand.
A few moments of thick silence filled the air as Emma tried to remember any more of last night. "Years of practice I suppose." Emma said finally.
"Hey. You can't become king overnight." Dale joked, looking up at her. "I don't think that plate could be any dryer." He noticed she had still been using the towel to dry her plate, standing their fidgeting with it throughout their whole conversation.
"Huh?" she asked, looking down at her hands. She couldn't help but laugh, though her hands still moved. The embarrassment was back, and the flush red feeling made its way back to her cheeks.
"Here." Dean set his coffee down and reached for the very dry plate in her hands. She gladly let it slip from her grasp and into his where he put it back on the shelf for her.
He stood close to her now, almost as close as he had earlier before pulling her in for a fake kiss. Emma's body tingled in nervousness again, and she grew angry at herself for ruining the perfect friendship they had established. They would poke jokes, knowing that there were no boundaries between them. They knew what was a joke and what wasn't. He had even let her drive the Impala a few blocks while he nervously rode shot gun with his knuckles white.
Dale cleared his throat. "You can't lie to someone who lies professionally."
"It's hard to lie when you don't know the truth." Emma sighed, raising her hand to run through her still knotted hair. She didn't care, the pain of pulling out a few strands let her know this wasn't a dream. She was in the kitchen with Dean Winchester talking about a one-night stand that didn't happen.
Dean thought about her words for a moment. "What's that mean?" This time it was him that wore the confused look. He didn't understand her answer in the slightest, and didn't like it.
"I don't know if I am happy nothing happened or not." Emma made herself move. Made her feet, even though they felt like bricks had been added to them, create more of a gap between the two of them. "It's confusing. I should be happy. You did the right thing. You didn't take advantage off me. But Dean…"
The words were caught in her throat. She stopped herself from spilling her feeling she wasn't sure were even real before they left her lips. "Look. Let's just forget I slept in your bed. Yeah? Go back to being friends, hunters, pranksters."
"Okay." Dean said simply. He licked his lips and made his way back to his coffee. It was cold now, but as he topped it off with more fresh from the pot it warmed up enough to taste better. He couldn't help but think that it needed a little something extra. A little more Irish to his morning would be nice right about now.
"Okay?" Emma asked, in inflection in her voice making him, and her, think she was upset about his quick answer.
"Yup. Okay. I can do that." He left the room, leaving Emma standing alone in the room. She looked around, trying to believe what just happened just happened. She threw the towel in her hand against the wall and left the room to get ready for her much needed day out.