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I do not own Supernatural.
"So... do you do this often? Walk up to guys and start questioning them?"
Dean had ordered himself another beer. The woman, who had now taken a seat beside him, had accepted his offer of another wine. Her presence both annoyed and intrigued him. He felt that he didn't know her...yet there was some kind of recognition that he couldn't put his finger on that made him stay. At least for one drink more.
Dean's question made her smile slightly. "Only once before."
"Oh. Guess I should feel special."
"Don't flatter yourself."
"I rarely do."
"Is that so?"
"Yeah..." Dean shook his head. "Listen. Usually, a hot chick comes up and I'm your guy...but... not tonight, okay? I'm not feeling it."
"So you do flatter yourself." The woman looked slightly superior.
"What?" This weird woman was starting to really piss him off. She had an air of something... not normal.
On reflection, Dean knew he should have known better.
"So... was your plan to be alone tonight?"
Dean shrugged. "I'm not a fan of New Years Eve. Resolutions... all that new start stuff. I just bought a few beers in for me and my brother."
"So...why aren't you with him now?"
Dean took a long drink. "We had an argument."
"About what?"
"Stuff."
"What kind of stuff?"
"You wouldn't understand."
"Really?"
"Really."
She gave a sad smile. "People often tell me that. That I wouldn't understand. How can anybody begin to understand anything if it's never explained to you? Maybe if people tried to explain things to me..." her eyes suddenly looked very far away. "Maybe things would have been better. For everyone. For me."
There was an awkward pause and Dean let out a long sigh. He felt a sob story coming on and he wasn't in the mood to comfort or give any kind of advice. Sam was always better at that anway.
"Listen, I told you before. I'm...not in the mood tonight. I'm going to go... and that's probably the biggest favour I could do you. I'm bad news."
The woman let out another infuriating chuckle. "I have absolutely no interest in you, Dean. At least not in that way. None whatsoever."
"Then what the hell are you doing? I could be a serial killer for all you know..."
"You could...but you're not."
"Says who?"
"A very good friend of mine."
"Oh yeah? And that is...?"
"You wouldn't understand."
Dean stood up, not enjoying the fact that she had used his own words against him. "Nice talking to you. Happy New Year and all that crap."
Dean made his way through the crowds of people. 11:02. Just under an hour to go.
"I think you should call your brother."
Dean didn't stop walking.
"Thanks for the advice. It'll save me writing to that agony aunt column. "
"Call Sam."
Dean stopped in his tracks and turned round.
"What did you...?"
"You heard me."
"How the hell do you know his name? I never told you his name"
"You need to call Sam. Now."
Dean walked up to the woman. As he came close to her, he saw a tear fall down her cheek.
Dean's voice trembled as he gripped the woman's arm.
"I need you to tell me what the hell is going on. No more bullshit."
"I can't..."
"Yeah. You can. You have to. How do you know Sam?"
"Just, please...trust me."
"I don't know you!"
"Just...please, Dean. This argument with him...whatever it was...it's not worth it! It's not worth what's going to happen..."
"What's going to happen? What the hell..."
The woman, tears now falling fast and freely down her cheeks, shook her head.
"I can't. Sorry...I just..."
With that she let out a sob and ran out of the bar. Dean stood, confused with a growing sense of foreboding. Slipping out his cell phone, he took after the woman.
"Hey!" He made his way out into the street. "Hey!"
He looked around desperately. How could she have slipped away so quickly? Still running, he found Sam's number in his phone and dialed.