Screwed?

Dean yawned, sitting up in bed and rubbing his eyes. He squinted, looking around the room before grinning and reaching under the bed, frowning when he didn't feel anything. He leant over, looking under the bed.

"What the..." He started, sitting back up. "Where the hell is-" He stopped, frowning. "Sam!" He growled, throwing the covers off him and climbing out of bed, yanking his door open. He stomped down the hall, reaching his brothers room. He banged on the door. "Sam! I know you have it, you sneaky little-"

Suddenly, the door opened, revealing a innocent looking Sam. "Yes, Dean?"

"Where is it?" He demanded, trying to look round his brother and into the door.

Sam leant in the way, blocking his brothers view. "Where's what?"

"You know what!"

"Nope," He replied, popping the 'p'. "Where's what?" He asked again, biting his lip so he didn't laugh.

"The script, Sam!"

"Oh," Sam nodded. "You mean your porn?"

"Wha?, Yes, whatever." He grumbled. "Just give it back." He said childishly.

Sam grinned and closed the door, only to reappear a second later, holding the script in his hand. "This?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "You know that I'm after that."

Sam chuckled. "Yeah, I do, but this is funnier."

Dean scoffed and held out his hand. "Give it."

"Um," Sam said, considering. "No."

"Yes!" Dean replied, trying to grab it off him, only to have Sam move it away.

"No."

"Yes." He went to grab it again and once again, Sam moved it.

"No."

"Yes!"

"No." Sam said, holding the script above his head.

"Oh, you think that's gonna' stop me?" Dean scoffed.

"Yep," He grinned, popping the 'p'.

Dean's tongue poked around inside his cheek for a second before he jumped, trying to grab the script, only to have Sam move it away once again. "Oh, don't be so childish." Dean said. "Just give it back,"

"OK, I will," Sam nodded. "On One condition."

"What's that?" Dean said, eyeing him sceptically.

"You admit that you like a chick-flick."

"What?" Dean laughed nervously. "It's not a chick-flick." He scoffed. "It's porn, dude," He nodded. "Hardcore, spank-me-silly, porn."

"Dean?"

"What?" He spat, annoyed.

"I read it and I know it's not porn." Sam laughed.

Dean used that moment to jump and grab the script off of him. "Yeah, well," He started, smoothing out the slightly crumbled script. "Tell anyone and you die." He said, pointing at Sam. "Got it?"

"Uh huh," Sam laughed.

Dean rolled his eyes and walked back to his room, giving Sam the finger. He slammed his bedroom door, hearing Sam laugh louder. "Whatever," He mumbled, climbing back onto his bed. "Asshole made me lose my page."

He pinched a large section of pages in his fingers and turned them, scanning through them until he found where he left off.


*~*~Delilah~*~*

"Oh, man," Delilah moaned, climbing out of bed and heading to the bathroom. She dropped to her knee's in front of the toilet, gagging until the vomit poured out of her mouth.

"Delilah?" She heard Peter call, followed by the sound of footsteps.


Dean sighed. "Sam has no right to take my script." He complained. "I mean, c'mon! It's not like I take anything of his." He grumbled.


Clenched her eyes shut, she continued to throw up.

"Sweetie, you OK?" He asked, pushing the bathroom door open.

"Yeah," She replied but it came out muffled.

Peter walked towards her, kneeling down beside her and rubbing her back. "I told you to start eating properly." He scolded.


"'M gonna' get Sam back for this," Dean nodded to himself. "Be prepared to be bald again, little brother." He grinned and ran a hand down the page of the script. "Don't worry, I won't let him near you again."


"Mm," She hummed, leaning back against the bathtub.

He lifted his hand to her forehead, feeling her temperature. "You're not hot," He said. "Get back in bed and I'll bring you somethin' up to eat." He told her, helping her to her feet.

She stumbled to the sink, grabbing her tooth brush.

Ruffling her hair, Peter walked out the bathroom and down the stairs.

Delilah moaned as she walked into her bedroom, her feet lazily dragging along the floor. She fell onto the bed, laying on her front and pulling the duvet over her. "Ouch," She hissed, sitting up and grabbing her left breast.


Dean raised his eyebrows. "Dude, I like where this is goin'."


She sighed. "Must be due on soon," She mumbled, laying down on her back.

A few seconds later, Peter walked into her room, holding a tray. "Here," He said, laying it on her belly.

She sat up carefully, leaning back against the pillows. "Thanks,"

He smiled slightly. "No problem." He replied. "Uh, why are you holdin' your boob?"


"Let the woman do what she wants!" Dean whined.


"They hurt," She moaned. "Means I'm gonna' be on my period soon." She yawned, picking up the glass of orange juice. "Probably why I threw up."

"Gross," Peter said, scrunching up his nose. "Why would your period make you throw up?"

She shrugged, putting the glass down and picking up some toast, ripping the corner off it and popping it into her mouth. "It happens to some women,"

"Oh," He nodded. "So it's normal."

"I guess," She mumbled, picking off another bit of toast. "I've never had it before but it is a symptom."

"Oh, OK," He nodded, standing up. "Let's not talk about periods. Ever again."


'Amen to that!' Dean thought.


She let out a laugh. "OK,"

"Anyway," He began. "I've found a hunt," He told her. "But I can stay if you want?"

"Nah," She shook her head. "I'll be fine."

"'Kay," He nodded, ruffling her hair. "See you in a few days," He said, kissing her forehead.

She smiled. "Bye,"

Delilah yawned, walking down the stairs, holding the empty tray in her hand. She headed into the kitchen, laying the tray on the counter before walking over to the dining table, spotting the grocery list. She picked it up, mouthing along as she read it. Biting her lip, she picked up the pen, writing down 'Sanity towels'.

Laying the pen down, she pocketed the list and walked into the hallway, grabbing her jacket and sliding it on. She quickly checked herself over in the mirror before grabbing the money Peter left her and sliding it into her pocket, next to the grocery list.

Walking towards the door, she suddenly stopped and took a peak at the hung up calender. She pulled her phone out of her pocket. "Tenth Of November," She mumbled, pocketing her phone and looking back up at the calender, her finger sliding along the dates until she spotted 'November 10th'.

"When was I last on?" She asked herself, biting her thumb nail. Suddenly, she frowned. "Peter's birthday." She said. "Which is the..Seventeenth Of September..." She trailed off, her frowned deepening. "No," She shook her head. "Can't have been that long ago." She muttered, flipping the calendar pages until she found September.

"Two," She said, counting the page difference between September and November. "Two months..." She swallowed. "Fuck." She cursed, her breaths fastening. "I missed my period."


Dean scrunched up his nose. "Women complain when they get their period and then moan when they don't?" He shook his head. "I'll never understand women."


(Half An Hour Later)

Delilah walks through a shop, biting her lip as she looks at the pregnancy tests.


"What?" Dean questioned, sitting up straight. "Pregnancy test?" He shook his head. "But..No, no way," He denied, a sudden sadness washing over him. "She can't be..."


She closed her eyes tightly. "I don't need one," She whispered to herself. "It's probably just stress."

"I've been there, sweetie," A woman's voice said, amused.

Delilah turned round, seeing a young lady with a trolley. In the trolley, sat a even younger girl, about Two or Three years old. "What?" Delilah asked the woman.

"I've been there," She repeated, smiling. "It has to be stress, right? Or maybe I gained a lot of weight and it's stopped my period or I lost weight and they stopped or maybe it's a cyst and they'll start again on their own, right?" She smiled softly. "I told myself the exact same things when I found out I missed my period."

"Oh," Delilah nodded, looking back at the pregnancy tests.

"It's not easy," The lady continued. "It doesn't feel real at first, you just think 'It can't happen to me, It won't happen to me', but then it does and it feels like the end of the world." She said. "How old are you?"

Delilah cleared her throat. "Eighteen."

The lady nodded. "I was Seventeen when I had my little angel," She said, looking over and smiling fondly at her daughter. "It was scary but it was totally worth it when she was born."

Delilah swallowed. "My uncle's goin' to kill me,"

"I though the same about my Mum," She replied. "And I was right, she was angry, mad, upset at first but then she came round and loved the idea of being a grandmother."

Delilah laughed, sniffling. "My uncle isn't really the kids type."

"Maybe so," She said. "But he'll help you through it and support you, right?" She guessed.

Delilah nodded. "Well, yeah, bu-"

"No, no 'but's." She smiled. "It'll be fine, trust me."

Delilah nodded. "Thank you," She smiled, clearing her throat. "But I don't even know if I am pregnant,"

The lady nodded. "Get the clearblue test." She advised. "I found that to be the best."

"Yeah?" Delilah asked.

"Yeah," She nodded. "I brought about Ten different types of tests," She laughed. "But that one was the best."

Delilah smiled. "Thank you," She said, reaching up and grabbing the 'clearblue' test off of the self.

"No problem, honey," She smiled. "And good luck!" She said before walking away.

"Thanks," Delilah muttered. "I'm gonna' need it." She said, throwing the test in the basket and grabbing the grocery list out of her pocket.

Delilah kicked the door shut with her foot, walking into the kitchen. She laid the shopping bags onto the table and took off her jacket, laying on the back of one of the chairs before digging her way through the bags, putting the frozen food away first. Next she put away the tinned food and anything else that belonged in the cupboards, leaving her with one item left.

The pregnancy test.

Nervously, she picked it up, her feet dragging as she walked towards the stairs. She climbed them, heading straight to the bathroom when she reached the top. Closing the door, she walked over to the cabinet and opened the pregnancy test box. Turning it upside down, she caught the contents in her hand as it fell out.

Scrunching her nose at the pregnancy test, she unfolded the instructions. "Hold the absorbent sampler pointing downwards in your urine stream for Five seconds only," She read aloud, picking up the pregnancy test and pulling off the cap of curved plastic. "I'm guessin' this is the 'absorbent sampler'," She muttered, holding up the instructions again.

"Or immerse it for Twenty seconds in a sample of urine which you've collected in a clean, dry container." She continued to read. "I'm so not peeing in a cup!" She shook her head. "A flashing 'wait' symbol – A egg timer – is shown on the display demonstrating that the test is working correctly." She read. "Well, it better work correctly 'cause I'm not taking back a pissed on pregnancy test." She muttered. "Within' Three minutes the symbol stops flashing and the result will appear." She finished.

"Ok," She nodded. "Can't be too hard." She commented, putting the instructions down and walking over to the toilet, pulling down her pants and underwear. She sat down, spreading her legs slightly so she could get the test between them. Hold her breath, she counted- "One, two, Three, Four, Five..."- before moving the pregnancy test out the way. "Hm, didn't even get any one my hand." She nodded. "Oh, I'm good."

Finishing off her business, she put the pregnancy test down on the side of the bath whilst she pulled up her pants and underwear. Picking the pregnancy test up, she walked over to the counter and laid it back down. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and switched on the 'stop watch' application.

"Now to wait," She sighed, laying her phone down next to the test and sitting on the edge of the bathtub.

She rested her elbows on her legs, her head leaning on her hands. "What the hell and I gonna' do if I am pregnant?" She said out loud, suddenly standing up and pacing. "What the hell is Billy gonna' say? And Uncle Peter? And Bobby? And..." She sniffled. "What would Mum and Dad say?" She cried, a tear running down her cheek. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry Mum," She croaked, her throat sore from the sobs she held in.

"I wish you were here," She sniffled, collapsing on the bathroom floor. "I'm sorry."


"I wouldn't worry, baby," Dean sighed. "Bobby'll be there for you."

'I'm just sorry I can't be..'


She sat there for awhile, rocking slightly, the tears slowly drying on her cheeks until she could find the strength in her legs to stand up. She held onto the side of the bath for support, slowly making her way to stand in front of the cabinet. She reached out, picking up her phone. She paused it, noticing that it had gone over Three minutes. "Guess this is it." She muttered, biting her lip.

She laid her phone back down before picking up the pregnancy test, her eyes closing, not wanting to see the answer. She exhaled slowly, peeping one eye open...


Review!