Chapter 10

"Oops?" He repeated and earning a tight, nervous smile from Amy.

He didn't look too happy.

"Oops?" He said a bit louder, taking a step towards her and causing her to take one back just for precaution.

Yep, he was soaked and pissed.

'Better backtrack a bit more.' She thought, cautiously widening the distance between them as she offered:

"Um... sorry?"

"What the hell was that for?" He questioned, once again coming closer and she realised there wasn't any room left to backtrack to when she felt the cold cabinet against her back.

"Well, I thought you were a demon." She retaliated, feeling cornered as he towered over her.

She didn't remember him being this tall. Or maybe she was short? Or maybe it was just because she always saw him standing next to Sam. Everyone looked short next to Sam.

"A demon that imitates voices?" The way he said it made her idea sound silly and absurd.

"What do you want? My data on demonology is kind of limited to Anne Rice novels."

"You bet it is." He snorted and she frowned.

Her wounded pride brought on a change in her demeanour. Her chin rose high and she narrowed her eyes at him.

"At least I remembered about the salt thing." She countered snootily.

"Yeah, and look how handy that came in." He pointedly spread out his arms at his sides, indicating his current drenched state.

"It would have been if you were a demon." She haughtily raised her eyebrows at him and set her mouth in a determined straight line as if she'd just given him a brilliant argument that would end the discussion in her favour.

He, on the other hand, gawked at her like she'd grown a second head.

After twenty seconds of being under his intense stare her stomach seemed to have had enough.

He was just too close, and damn, why did he have to smell the way he did. How was she supposed to make any sense? Of course she sounded like she was insane.

"What?" She snapped when the butterflies in her gut became too much for her to handle.

He simply continued to look at her. His glassy eyes dropped to her mouth for a second and that was it. She mentally kicked herself when she caved under the pressure and dropped her gaze.

'Crap! Look up! Look up!' Her mind commanded, but she was too busy trying to keep her knees from buckling to conjure up the coordination skills needed to control her neck muscles.

Too close. Every time he took a breath his chest would almost touch hers. Why did he have to take up so much space while breathing? And why was her brain suddenly complaining of oxygen shortage?

"Where's Garth?" She congratulated herself as she achieved what she thought was impossible - speaking without stuttering.

'Good for you! You still can't look him in the eye, but that's just 'cause the floor is so pretty.' Her brain mocked her.

"Dead."

Her eyes jerked up at the curt reply.

"What?"

And she pushed him away striding over to the door but stopping in her tracks when she found the young man's lifeless body just beyond the threshold.

"You killed him?" She whirled around to face him.

"He was probably already dead when the demon took over." Dean explained.

"Probably?"

He didn't like the tone with which she said it and his back immediately stiffened for a defensive stance.

"Probably is not good enough."

"Well, I had no choice." He snapped.

"You always have a choice." She replied, the accusation now clear in her voice.

"He was about to kill you." Dean pointed out and was once again looming over her, but this time she met his gaze and held it.

"But he didn't."

"Yeah, 'cause I killed him before he had a chance." He scoffed. Pinning her with his eyes he reminded her: "I saved your life."

"I don't need you to save my life if it means innocent people have to die."

"I told you, he was probably already dead-"

"Save it." For her it was the end of the discussion.

She was just too wired to get into another fight with him. But he didn't let up. In a flash, his hand was on her arm whirling her around and preventing her from walking away. Their breaths caught simultaneously when the sudden movement caused their bodies to crash together.

It took him a few seconds to regain his composure before he was able to say:

"I did what I had to do."

His mouth was a few measly inches from hers and his breath was warm on her flushed cheeks.

"You had a choice."

"Yeah… Let you die. It wasn't a hard choice to make."

Why did he have to keep looking at her mouth like that? She couldn't think... She didn't like not being able to think. It was what she did best and she felt lost and exposed without it.

Her mind raced, trying to find away out of this and eventually she stuttered as she pushed him away:

"Y-you're getting me all wet."

They both instantly froze, their eyes widening in shock at the double meaning of her words.

"Ok. I-I didn't mean... I-I mean, I meant... I wasn't talking about..."

'Amy! Get a grip on yourself! How many times are can you say that word mean?' Her brain yelled at her.

Dean watched as she fidgeted nervously, her eyes fretfully bouncing off of every available surface in a desperate attempt to avoid looking at him while her frantic hands hastily alternated between running through her hair, ruining her ponytail in the process, and dropping to twirl her ring.

She was just so cute when she was nervous. God, she was gorgeous!

"I mean you're wet a-and we were touching so-"

"I got you wet?" His left eyebrow mischievously shot up at her.

That cocky remark earned him a deadly glare and she immediately stopped moving; jumpiness giving way to anger.

"Funny. You're just hilarious." She sneered.

"What? You were the one who said it." He feigned innocence.

"Just get out of those wet clothes." She ordered.

"If you say so." He agreed starting to unbutton his shirt and she rolled her eyes.

"Would you get your mind out of the gutter and your ass out of here? I've got work to do." She ended the question with an annoyed sigh.

Assuming a serious expression he nodded.

"I'll meet you in the car in twenty minutes." He turned to leave but halted at her:

"Huh?"

"Ok, fine. Half an hour. Jeez, how long does it take you to pack?"

She lifted her eyebrows.

"Pack?"

"Yeah. We're leaving." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"I'm not leaving." Her chin was doing that haughty jutting out thing it usually did whenever the stubborn five year old kid in her surfaced.

"Yeah... you are. With me. Now."

She chuckled and a fraction of a second later there was no evidence of her having smiled as she replied:

"No, I'm not."

"Amy."

She didn't like the way he said her name. She didn't like what it did to her. There went her knees again, turning into mush.

"Winchester." She scoffed back.

"You and I are leaving this place and meeting up with Sam."

"Um? Need I remind you of the comatose man next to you? I'm not leaving him."

Damn! She was right. But they had to leave. Lilith had already sent someone after her. That meant she knew where she was. They needed to find Sam and get her that hex bag before Mega bitch sent someone else.

"We're going to have to leave him. Call someone to watch him or something." Dean explained.

"There's no one else." She lied.

She knew exactly who to call, someone who knew about what she did, someone who was a brilliant surgeon, someone she hadn't spoken to in over a year - Michael.

"Well, there's gotta be. Either you find someone to come help you or we're leaving him. Two choices, Amy."

Her heart skipped a beat. Would he just stop saying her name like that already? She was getting jelly knees.

"Yes, there is."

He tilted his head at her, unconvinced but didn't say anything and instead waited for option number three.

"You leave and I stay here."

"Yeah, cause that worked out just peachy the first time around." He scoffed. "Just call someone."

"No." She stood her ground.

There was something she wasn't telling him. Everything about her told him so - the way she moved, the edge in her voice, everything.

"You must know someone from college, or work... something."

"No."

Her thumb worried the silver band around her middle finger. Definitely, something was off.

"Amy, just call someone."

"I'm not calling him, alright?"

Dean was caught off guard by her sudden yell.

'Him?'

The silence seemed to suffocate her and she was both relieved and angry when he spoke again.

"Amy, we don't have much time. Just call him."

When she met his gaze he was shocked to find her eyes bloodshot and glassy with tears. She held on, not allowing any to tumble over her cheeks, her mouth closed tightly as she swallowed hard.

"Please, Amy." He begged her and after what seemed like an eternity to him, she nodded.