Hi all!

Just a couple of reminders: y/n = your name; y/h/c = your hair colour. This story doesn't have an exact time in which it is set - it is just sometime after the Winchesters have met Chuck and Becky.

This has threats of sexual assault and is a chapter based on drinking alcohol. I would hate to think anyone would get upset by my stories so please don't read if these things are triggering for you.

I hope you enjoy the story! Let me know what you think :)

Drunken Confessions

Finishing the bottle of cider she placed it down directly in front of her on the scratched and sticky bar-room table.

She could feel a warmth spreading throughout her body. Her muscles had relaxed a few drinks ago but it was only now that she felt dizzy, her vision slightly blurring before she could regain her composure.

Deliberately, she focused her senses - pulling herself together before the man sitting in the chair next to her noticed that she may have drank a 'little' more than she could handle.

Not that I would ever admit that to him she thought to herself.

'What was that?' Dean quickly turned his head to her - leaning down towards her slightly so that he could hear her better.

'Huh?' she looked at him quizzically and then realised she may have said her previous thought out loud. Quickly she tried to amend the situation 'Nothin'...just mumblin'...I guess...'

Smoooth y/n, She scolded herself, perhaps no talking would be more effective in keeping this slight intoxication to ourselves. She nodded and then realised she was having a full-on conversation with herself. You should also probably avoid channeling Gollum if you wish to maintain any dignity she added and looked over at Dean, smiling, in hopes of reassuring him that all was fine.

He smiled widely back but seemed to keep an eye on her with a side-ways glance as he took a swig from his beer.

'So what's up?' He asked lightly, looking out at the busy room filled with smoke and loud chatter.

'What's up with what?' she asked just as lightly - finally feeling a buzz and herself easing into an evening of not thinking about anything other than drinking, dancing and sleeping.

He studied her for a second, establishing that she must actually be quite drunk, as she genuinely seemed to have no idea what he was referring to. She could, of course, be feigning innocence though. He knew she didn't really want to talk about what was going on, what had happened - and it wasn't just the way she was drinking tonight that told him that. He made it simpler for her

'You never drink' he said, loud enough to be heard over the music but soft enough to ensure it was a private conversation between him and the cute y/h/c sitting - or perhaps he should say leaning - in the chair beside him.

'Sure I do. I really like cider. Pear cider is my favourite.' She said with a smile.

Dean couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her confession 'What? Since when?'

'Since forever. I just never told you coz I didn't want you to think I was too girly to hunt. So I just drank your beer...or nothing...which was preferable.' She shuddered, emphasising her distaste for the foul amber liquid and then sent him a playful smile as she sat up straight and gestured to the bar tender to get her another drink.

He couldn't help the smirk that spread across his face.

'So you don't like my beer, huh? What else have you been hidin' from me all this time?'

'Ummm...she tried to clear her unfocused and foggy thoughts, searching for something to answer Dean's question with. I hate Dr Sexy M.D.'

Dean almost spat out the beer he had been taking a drink from. 'You watch it with me all the time!' he protested.

"I know. At first I wanted to know why you were so obsessed with it. Then after a while I figured it had to get better if I got attached to one of the characters. Then I thought I could deal if I just watched it for the sexiness. And then I concluded I hated it, but by that point I didn't want to disappoint you.'

She said all this with such nonchalance - swinging her legs whilst sitting in her chair and casually gazing around - that Dean couldn't help but smile and watch her for a moment before figuring out what to say in reply.

Before Dean could respond, y/n's cider was bought out by a gorgeously toned brunette, sporting a few tattoos and some mad balancing skills with the drinks tray she held in her hand. After placing the drink down in front of y/n, the woman turned to Dean and smiled seductively.

Y/n didn't have to look at Dean to know he would be eyeing the bar chick, running his eyes up and down her body. Y/n didn't want to crash his style or dampen some 'awesome' pick up line she knew he would already have prepared. So with this woman's arrival she knew her night was over and she quickly gulped down her new drink without really thinking, then stood up from the chair she sat in.

Drinking quickly, and then standing as fast as she had was a really bad move. She didn't have time to adjust her vision's focus or her balance. As she stood up her body swayed dramatically and her knees gave out so quickly that her butt reached the floor before Dean had a chance to reach out and steady her (although he did try).

'Woah. Babe, take it easy. What's the rush?'

Getting out of his seat, he leaned down and helped y/n up. Not only grabbing her hand but also her waist, making sure he was holding her full weight incase her legs gave out again.

'I's home time' y/n replied - rather slowly but in a relatively happy tone. She hazily noted that tattoo chick wasn't around anymore. That's good - she wasn't really ready to face the feeling of dread sitting in the pit of her stomach just yet. Which would be inevitable if she found herself alone right now, without Dean close by.

Sitting back down in his chair, Dean pulled y/n into his side so he could hold her up with his left arm and finish drinking his beer with his right.

'Not just yet' he replied, looking down at the top of her head. 'We gotta wait for Sammy to let us know when he needs to be picked up...It shouldn't be too long now.'

He reached into his jean's pocket and pulled out his phone; checking to see if he had a missed call or text from his brother. Y/n let out a giggle and he looked back down at her while putting his phone away again.

'What's gotcha gigglin'?' He titled his head, trying to catch her eyes.

'I wonder how much fun Sammy is having' she said, turning around in his arm so that she could grin up at him while she said it.

Dean threw his head back, unable to hold in his laughter. 'I'm sure he'll be havin' the time of his life' he responded, looking back down and taking in her cherry red lips and the cheeky sparkle in her eyes as she watched his reaction.

Breaking eye-contact with Dean, y/n looked down at the floor. He studied the top of her head for a moment longer and then looked back out at the crowded room.

Their recent case had involved them following too many dead end leads. Today, however, Sam had come across a weird pattern involving online Chuck Shurley fans, so the hunters had turned to the most reliable connection they could think of for a situation like this: Becky.

Fortunately for them, she had been relatively close by and willing to help out. Unfortunately for Sam, she had only been willing to give the information to him - over dinner. They were pretty desperate by this stage so Sam had reluctantly agreed. This had meant that after dropping Sam off on his 'date' Dean and y/n had some time to kill.

Dean had mentioned that he was 'in the mood for a break' (which simply translated to 'a drink') and y/n had been unusually fidgety and ready for some time out to forget all they had been through on this particularly difficult case. So together they headed straight to the local bar to release some tension.

Looking down at the floor she noticed the knot in her stomach again. The plan to drink the feeling away wasn't working. She had considered telling Dean - she really had. When he suggested the bar for a wind down the first thing that had popped into her thoughts had been a debrief with Dean could work.

Her thoughts had been like a broken record for the past 24 hours - repeating the same thoughts and memories over and over again. Of course now that she was alone with Dean she couldn't find the right words to explain what was going on; what she was most worried about; what had her feeling physically ill.

The alcohol consumption wasn't really helping any - although she hadn't had enough to get rid of the twisting In her stomach she had drank enough for her thoughts to be cloudy, blocking out a lot of coherent thoughts. It was making it hard for her to decide how to bring it up in conversation...or even if she should. She wasn't sure how Dean would take it.

Deciding to just leave it for now; to wait for a moment of clarity before she dealt with it, y/n sighed deeply. She pressed herself closer to Dean's side and rested her head on his shoulder. He squeezed her hip in response. He knew she was upset, but right at this moment he couldn't help but smile. He liked her like this. She was so relaxed and affectionate. She let him hold onto her, snuggled against him and completely trusted that he would keep her safe.

Her voice broke him from his thoughts 'Hey Dean?'

'Hmmm' he replied

'Wanna know a secret?' she asked gently.

He turned his complete attention to her - hoping she was about to let go of what she was holding onto; let him in on what she was trying to drink away.

'I'd love to babe, what's up?' His tone remained casual as he responded.

She tilted her head to look up at him again. She took a deep breath preparing to tell him all that was going on in her head and body but as she caught his eye she lost her nerve. Looking down again she let out a laugh.

'I think I drank a bit too much, Dean - I'm a little bit drunk'

He chuckled and she could feel it rumble through his chest. He'd seen her change her mind at the last second about what she was going to tell him. He didn't mind though and subtly let her know this by playing along; not letting on that he had read all her tells.

'Just a little? Y/n we've been out drinking together a ton of times! And I've never seen you like this' He said it with a smile in his voice, letting her know that he didn't mind the state she was in.

She giggled and relaxed into him again.

From across the room a loud thud and raised voices broke the relaxed atmosphere of the bar. Y/n jumped at the sound and both hunters turned their attention to the scuffle between the small group of men. It looked to be a fight over a couple of blondes Dean noted, as security made quick work of breaking up the brawl and removing the men from the pub.

He turned his attention back to the girl by his side and noticed how tense she had become in his arms. Her breath was short and sharp while her eyes remained glued to the place where the fight had broken out seconds before.

Deciding not to comment on her obvious distress, Dean simply pulled her around from his side to stand in-between his legs. This forced her to face away from the bar and focus her attention on him. From this position he was able to pull her closer to his chest and wrap both arms around her - reminding her of the protection and comfort his presence provided.

After a few moments of slowly rubbing his hand up and down her back in an attempt to sooth her he felt her breathing finally even out again. She moved her arms from where she held them (wrapped tightly around her torso) and moved them under his arms to wrap around his body. She pressed her face into his flannel-covered chest and took a deep breath in and then out again.

He gave her a tight squeeze and then moved his hands to the tops of her arms. He pushed her away from his chest slightly and looked into her eyes

'Want another drink?'

She smiled at him, relaxing further at his casual question. There was no interrogation, no nagging, no intense concern - he was going to let her pretend nothing had happened.

'Yeah, that'd be good' she replied quietly, nodding to confirm her response.

He pulled her back to his chest with his left arm and used his right to get the attention of the bar, calling for two more drinks. She adjusted herself so that her right arm remained under Dean's and wrapped around his back, while her other one could be used to drink the new bottle placed in front of her.

After taking a few sips she noticed the room had gone back to the casual atmosphere it held before the fight broke out. Placing her drink back down on the table, she leaned back into Dean's chest listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. He's so strong she thought to herself as she listened so sturdy, so safe, so secure. The perfect hunter.

Reaching her hand out she absentmindedly started to fiddle with one of the small buttons of his shirt. The alcohol was still making her mind spin but finally she grabbed hold of one clear, precise thought: I just want to scream. Luckily she was focused enough to think twice about acting on that one, instead she dug a little deeper. I need to get rid of this feeling - I want it gone. Now.

Dean had been sitting comfortably, rubbing her lower back and drinking his beer when y/n broke the silence again with a whisper. If he hadn't been paying attention to her so closely, making sure everything was o.k., he never would have heard it over the noise of the bar.

'Dean?'

'Yeah, sweetheart?'

'Could I tell you a real secret?'

'Of course you can baby.'

He noted, of course, that the rolling of his shirt button between her fingers had picked up pace and she subconsciously worried her bottom lip between her teeth. He moved his hand up to run his fingers through the ends of her hair. Not saying anything, he simply took another drink from his beer as he waited for her.

'I don't think I'm cut out for this.'

'For what?' he smiled 'Drinking?'

'No...for this...for hunting.'

He raised an eyebrow. Well that was unexpected. Of course he knew what was worrying her so badly tonight - he wasn't as emotionally inept as some people liked to believe. He knew it was this damn hunt. The things that had gone down yesterday; things that none of them had really had a chance to talk about or process yet. He expected for her to feel frightened, hurt, angry...but unable to hunt? What the hell? His eyebrows furrowed and he shook his head slightly.

'Not cut out for hunting? Where'd that come from?' He asked - trying to keep the surprise from his voice the best he could.

'I froze Dean. He was unarmed. He didn't use any powers on me and I just...he...I couldn't... I just...I froze...'

He heard the tears in her voice at the end of her confession and moved to comfort her. He placed his drink next to hers on the table then bent down so that he could reach his right arm behind her knees while keeping his left one supporting her back. He lifted her with ease and nestled her into his lap. Once he was certain she was comfortable he pulled her closer to him. A light smile of relief crossed his features when she willingly leaned her head back onto his chest and continued playing with his shirt buttons.

He looked around the bar, taking in the people closest to them. They needed to have a conversation right now, but it was important that it remained just between the two of them. Satisfied that their talk would be a private one he pressed a light kiss to the top of her head and then moved his lips lower so that they were next to her ear. In a low, gentle tone he spoke

'Darlin' what happened yesterday... we just weren't prepared for it, that's all. None of us were. We were ready for the hunt - prepared to fight werewolves, vamps, demons or ghosts - we weren't ready for something so...human...But all this means is we will be better prepared next time. Stronger. It doesn't mean your not a good hunter, baby. It means next time you'll be an even better one.'

He paused and placed his rough, calloused hand over her smaller one. Stopping her from playing with the button so that she was truly listening to him - even if she couldn't look him in the eye just yet.

''Coz next time we'll be ready for something like that - and you'll be prepared to fight it.'

Next time. Tears welled up in her eyes at the thought of anything like that happening again. She pushed them down and took her drink from the table. Downing a few mouthfuls.

Next time they won't get that close. Dean told himself as he watched y/n and reached out to pick up his own beer again.

There was silence for a few minutes. Both of them lost in their own thoughts. There was no need to ask what either was thinking - they both knew they were each re-playing the hunt of the previous night.

The search had suggested that the 'something' they were looking for in this annoying case could be coming from an old industrial area just out of town. They had decided to check it out, hoping that finally they had caught a lead that would take them somewhere. The warehouse had looked like a typical place for something evil to be living in. Y/n and the boys had been able to get in easily and quietly. They had made their way through the building as a group, searching each space for a sign of something supernatural living there.

Quickly enough they had found a group of demons preparing a ritual of some form using blood, herbs and some creepy looking skulls. The moment they saw it the Wicnhesters and y/n had known this was not what they were searching for - but they were there, they figured they may as well kill some evil demon-worshiping-ass to ensure the night wasn't a complete waste.

The hunters had surprised the group and launched their attack on the monsters. For a while everything seemed to be going in their favour. They took out a few of the demons and ended up battling one possessed person each. At one point, however things changed.

Y/n still couldn't pin point what it was that went wrong (and she had replayed the event over and over in her mind trying to remember it) but somehow she had ended up on her back, looking up into the black eyes of a man two sizes larger than her, without her knife.

At first she attempted to scramble away from him but he lunged for her, pinning her legs and arms down with his body. She tried to fight him with all she had until he leant down, whispering in her ear

'We don't come across many female hunters. It's best to make the most of the situation when we do'

With those words her entire body froze. She couldn't move a single muscle. Her breath hitched in her throat. Her heart stopped beating. All she could do was watch as he lifted himself up slightly and prepared to 'make the most of the situation'.

Sam and Dean had been battling their own demons and it wasn't until Dean had managed to get the upper hand on the demon-bitch he had been fighting (who, he noted, had quite a solid left hook) that he glanced over to see what was happening across the room. It took him a moment to register the scene in front of him. The first thing he noticed was how big the guy was, standing over a cowering y/n. The second thing he saw was the fear in y/n's eyes - like no fear he had ever seen in her before. Finally, when he noticed the black-eyed bastard unbuckling his belt, he knew what was about to happen.

He moved instantly, intuitively. Within seconds he had found his knife, moved to stand behind the monster and stabbed him. He watched as an orange light flickered through the man and then died out. Once he was sure the demon was gone completely he pushed the meat suit to the side, ensuring it couldn't fall on y/n and then reached down to help her stand up.

Dean shook his head, coming out of the memory and took another large mouthful of beer to clear it from his mind. He bought his attention back to y/n, who was shaking slightly, and pulled her body even closer than it already was to his own.

Dean's movement bought y/n back to the present moment. She took a sip from the cider in her hands and placed it back on the table. The tears welled up inside her uncontrollably and she turned to face Dean, throwing her arms around his neck and hiding her tears in the crook of his neck.

Surprised by her sudden movement, Dean paused for a moment but quickly pulled himself together to react to the girl in his arms. Placing his own drink down again he wrapped his arms tightly around her torso, bringing one hand up to stroke her hair, in the hopes of helping her to calm down.

'What if I'm not strong enough? What if I don't get better at it next time and freeze again? What if I can't kill it Dean? What happens then?'

Her voice shook and he could feel the tears landing on his bare skin as she spoke. Never looking at him, hiding herself as she admitted her deepest fear.

'Then I'll kill him for you. That's why we hunt together baby. We're a team. We use each other's strengths and protect each other from any weaknesses. That's how we survive.' He paused for a moment and then added one final thought. 'That's what makes us the most badass hunters around.'

She couldn't help but laugh at the way Dean described the team: 'badass'- it was such a Dean description. It was a watery laugh but she felt a brief feeling of happiness and relief run through her. Dean didn't think she was too weak, he believed she could still hunt. And he was willing to protect her in those times when she couldn't take something on. She turned her head so that she was no longer hiding her face, but simply resting on Dean's shoulder. She brushed away the tears from her cheeks and then reached forward again for the final liquid remaining in her bottle of drink.

Finishing the alcohol she turned to Dean and looked directly in his eyes, searching to make sure he was telling her the truth.

'You promise?' She asked. This time in a voice that was much steadier.

He smiled widely at her and brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear. 'Promise' he agreed.

She nodded in confirmation. Letting him know that she believed him and they could move on from the topic. As if on cue, Dean's phone vibrated and he reached into his pocket to answer the call.

'Sammy! Finished already?' He said in a boisterous, teasing tone.

Y/n heard Sam sigh, on the other end of the line, before responding 'Yes, Dean. It has been a long day. I would appreciate it if you could come pick me up.' She could just picture him rubbing his forehead in frustration as he spoke.

She couldn't help herself - she had to add a comment 'You sure Sammy?' she yelled quite loudly until Dean held out the phone slightly for her to talk into 'we can get another motel room for the night if you want Becky to drop you back home?'

Dean's smile was wide as he winked at her. Letting her know how much he appreciated her witty comment. He then added a point of his own

'That's true man we -'

'Dean! Now.' Sam ground out - interrupting the next awesomely funny thing Dean was going to say.

'Alright, alright. No need to get your panties in a twist. We can be there in ten.'

'Alright, thankyou. You sure you're o.k. to drive?'

'Yeah man, I'm sweet. I've only had a couple - I had to keep an eye on y/n for the night.' He glanced over at her and smiled. She rolled her eyes in response.

'Y/n? She never drinks.'

'That's what I said, but apparently she does. Cider. Pear cider to be may not get a chance to see her like this though - she may not be conscious by the time we get there.'

He said this last line with a smirk on his face and in his voice. Y/n, who had slid off Dean's lap during this conversation and was adjusting her clothes and hair after her mini-meltdown, turned to look up at him as she heard what he was saying about her.

'I'll be conscious!' she stated with a slight pout. 'I'm not that bad.'

As she said this, she pushed his arm playfully but unfortunately lost her balance with the action. Dean laughed out loud as he quickly lunged foreword and caught her arm before she could fall over for the second time that night.

'Dean? What's going on?' Sam's concerned voice came through the phone again.

'Don't worry about it Sammy' He said with a chuckle still in his voice '- y/n's just provin' my point. We're leaving now. Be there soon.'

With that he closed his phone and put it back in his pocket. He had kept a hold of y/n's arm, making sure he kept her close until the phone call had ended but now he moved his hand to her lower back. Finishing the last of his beer he stood up and paid the bar tab. He then turned to y/n with a warm smile

'Ready to go?'

'Yep' she responded with a short nod.

Keeping his hand on her back as a way of letting her know he was there, as well as making sure she remained upright and was able to get through the bar without too many more scrapes or brusies, He guided her through the tables, chairs and pub patrons. Finally. Dean got her safely to the Impala and unlocked the door.

Once she was settled into the passenger seat he walked around to the driver's side and got in. As he turned the key in the ignition the engined purred to life. After a short pause the cassette player kicked in and Cream blasted from the speakers. He put the car in reverse and turned his upper body, ready to pull out of the carpark. Before he began to back out he stopped for a moment and looked at the woman sitting next to him.

It had been a big night. Usually the emotions that had been dealt with this evening would have set him on edge. But not tonight. Not with her. He loved how her weight had felt in his arms. Loved that she had told him everything she was holding onto. Loved how easy it had been to tell her the truth. As he watched her now he saw that she had curled her legs underneath herself, trying to get comfortable leaning against the window. She had already closed her eyes and he couldn't stop the low chuckle that escaped his lips when he realised how right he had been on the phone to Sam.

'What're you laughin' at?' she asked drowsily, half opening one eye to look at Dean as she spoke.

'Nothin' important sweetheart. Nothin' important at all. How about you turn around this way and you can use my arm as a pillow. Prob'ly more comfy than how you're sittin' now.' He tried to remain as casual as he could as he asked her. But truth be told, he really hoped she would agree: He wanted to end the night holding her.

' ' she followed his suggestion without really thinking. Shuffling around so that her feet faced the passenger side door, she rested her head on his shoulder and snuggled into his warmth.

Dean draped his arm around her waist, letting his hand rest on her hip. Satisfied that she was comfortable, Dean turned his head - ready, again, to back the car out of the parking lot. Before he could release the clutch he was interrupted by a soft, sleepy voice.

'Th'nks Dean...For everythin'.'

He smiled down at her and placed a kiss on the top of her head in response. The smile stayed in place as he finally got the Impala on the road. It grew wider as he turned the music up slightly and rubbed his hand down y/n's side for a moment. He knew the feeling he had right at this moment would stay for the rest of the evening: he was certain that the people he cared most about were safe, she was alright, and everything was going to be o.k. for another night.