Just Tonight

Dean had began to slowly deteriorate ever since getting back from hell. At first, he had tried to maintain his tough, unfazed facade, pretending he couldn't remember anything from hell, until that heart wrenching day when he confessed to you and Sam on the side of the road that he did.

"... The way that I feel inside of me - I wish I couldn't feel a damn thing." his words echoed through your mind as you entered the motel room. Dean was sitting in a chair in the corner looking absolutely miserable, a bottle of whiskey clenched in his left hand. Your boyfriend didnt even look up as you entered the room.

"Hey, Dean." You said, closing the door behind you.

"Hey, Babe." He slurred, not even bothering to look up at you. His eyes seemed fix on a spot on the carpet. You'd just gotten back from the diner with Sam and your Uncle Bobby, who had gone back to their to go to bed. Dean had said he didn't feel like coming and so you'd brought a burger back for him. You put the take out container on the bedside table and sat on the bed. Minutes passed.

"Dean, we gotta talk."

. . . . .

"I don't know why you ever thought it would be a good idea for you to encourage Dean to ask Y/N out in the first place, ya idgit." Bobby scolded Sam as they entered their room.

"Bobby, they've been together for two years now. Dean's just going through a rough time, they'll get through it." Sam was relatively annoyed that Bobby had lied to Y/N, saying the two of them were heading to bed, just so he could lecture him.

"They've never been a healthy couple, Sam. She's not emotionally stable, I love my niece to death, but that's the truth… And neither is Dean now. She's tried to off herself more times than I care to remember, and she's on drugs. Dean's always been her rock. Now he won't stop drinking, he's depressed… Neither of them can really be there for each other… I don't know what's gonna happen…" Bobby trailed off.

"Oh." Sam muttered, realizing Bobby's concern. He paused a moment before continuing, "Well the pills Y/N takes are prescription."

"You're buying that B.S. Sam? You ever seen someone take those things the way she does? And you don't notice how doped up she is?"

Sam fell silent, not knowing what to say. Bobby shook his head and entered the bathroom.

. . . . .

"Dean," You took a deep breath and stood up. "I can't do this anymore." Dean's eyes shot up and you could see the pure confusion in them.

"What do you mean?" He sounded worried.

"I can't sit back and watch you drink yourself to death."

"I'm not! I'm fine." He shot back, slurring.

" You're not fine, Dean. Not at all. I've tried to help you, but I can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved."

"Y/N I went to Hell!" He said, his voice shaking. "You can't expect me to be the way I used to right away."

"Either way this isn't right, Dean. Just please talk to someone about it! Let me in. I can't just sit back and watch you do this to yourself. Talk to me, talk to Sam, talk to my uncle Bobby, fucking talk to Crowley if you want! You can't keep it all bottled up!" Dean stood up and slowly crossed the room. He put his hands on your shoulders and gazed into your eyes. You could see tears forming in his eyes and smell whiskey on his breath.

"Please Y/N." He said quietly. "Just be patient with me. I love you… I need you. I'm falling apart. Don't give up on me now." A tear rolled down his cheek. You broke free of his hands and turned away, not able to stand seeing him like this.

"Fine Dean." You said quietly. "I'll stay tonight, but we're gonna continue this conversation when you're sober tomorrow." You felt pair of strong arms pull you into a tight embrace from behind. His arms were wrapped tight around your shoulders. You almost giggled at Dean's drunken awkwardness.

. . . . .