Reality

Chapter 11: Can't Fight this Feeling

Dean pulled up to their new home for the next few days and parked in front of the door. "Why don't you two get the room and get started. I'm going to go grab some grub." He looked between Blake and Sam. They shrugged and got out. He pulled away, wiping his hand over his mouth. It'd been about two weeks since he and Blake had fucked in the front seat and she'd been kidnapped by a crazy person with a fire fetish. He'd noticed that Blake wasn't just a crush to him, not just a hot huntress.

He was falling in love with her. And that was dangerous. Especially in this line of work. It was never a good idea to fall in love. He didn't know what to do about it either. He couldn't kick her out. It would break her heart first of all, and Sam would never let him. Sam loved her too, just in a different, harmless way. Blake was the little sister Sam had always wanted. And if he was being honest with himself, Dean didn't want her to leave.

He drove to the nearest diner and walked inside, ordering food. They were on a hunt. From the descriptions of the victims in the police reports, they were dealing with a wraith. That was bad enough. Add in his overprotectiveness, the realization that he was in love with Blake, and the fact that he had no idea what to do about it and they were in trouble. The real kicker was the Blake was picking up on it. Not that he was in love with her, at least he hoped not. But he had been acting differently.

Dean had been trying to keep his distance. Trying to keep their alone time to a minimum. The fact that he was doing this just after fucking her brains out on the front seat of the car didn't help. He knew she was probably a little hurt and a whole lot of pissed off at him. He didn't know what else to do. It wasn't right to tell her how he felt. Not when every other person he'd loved had died or worse.

He leaned against the counter, waiting for his order and thought back to Lisa. She'd been possessed by a demon and nearly died because he loved her. His mother had burned. His father sold his soul. Sammy had died a few times, so had Cas. He'd lost Bobby, Jo, Ellen, Ash, the list went on and on. It was dangerous enough bringing Blake into the life. Admitting that he loved her was signing her death warrant.

He took the bag of food and headed back out to the car. He really didn't want to go back to the motel. He was tempted to get a second room. Blake had gotten into the habit of sleeping in his bed when they were out on hunts. Usually he wouldn't mind. It meant he'd get his rocks off, and he'd get to make a sexy woman scream his name. But things were different now. A small part of him hoped that if he separated himself from her the feelings would go away.

When he got back to the motel she and Sam were already elbow deep in research. She looked up at him and smiled, taking the food from him and lying it out on the table. "We think we know where the wraith's hunting grounds are," she said, sitting back beside Sam.

"Yeah, Blake picked up on it." Sam turned the computer around to show Dean. "These red marks are where all of the killings happened. They're all within five blocks of the same bar."

Dean sat down and unwrapped his burger. "So they're picking their victim from the bar, following them, and waiting until they get far enough away to make the kill." He took a bite and shrugged. "Makes sense. Can we do anything about it tonight?" he asked.

Sam shook his head. "The bar is closed on Sundays. The best thing we can do is get some sleep, do a little more research tomorrow, maybe talk to the bartenders who were working, and then stake the place out tomorrow night."

Dean nodded. "Sounds good to me."

Blake stood and stretched, her salad half gone. "I'm going to take a shower." She glanced at Dean, but he made it a point to look at his food. He knew what she was angling for, and his best option, if he wanted to get over his feelings, was definitely not to have sex with her. Even if it was hot, steamy, slippery, amazing, shower sex. He waited until he heard the bathroom door close to look up.

"What's your deal?" Sam asked. He closed his laptop and crossed his arms over his chest. "You've been acting weird with her lately."

He sighed and pushed his food away, his apatite gone. "I think I'm falling in love," he whispered. Usually he would avoid this conversation at all costs. But he didn't know what to do and he was hoping Sam would.

"And that's a bad thing?" Sam smiled and leaned forward. "Dean, that's great news."

He shook his head. "No, it's not. Not when everyone I've ever loved has ended up dead." He looked up and met his brother's eyes. "That's the family curse."

Sam shook his head. "I'm not so sure that applies with Blake."

"What are you talking about?"

Sam shrugged. "She's a damn good hunter, mainly because we taught her. She knows how to play it safe." He sat back and pinned Dean with a look. "I don't think she's going anywhere."

He sighed. Maybe Sam was right. It was hard to know. He didn't even know which way was up when it came to Blake anymore. "I'm going to bed." He got up and walked over to the couch. He knew it was going to upset Blake. She wouldn't know what was going on, why he was acting the way he was. He couldn't think about that right now. They had a job to do. He stretched out on the couch and shut his eyes. He'd talk to her when the case was over and they were back home. Until then, he just had to try to ignore what he was feeling and keep Blake as far away from him as possible.

xXx

Blake sighed as she climbed into the shower. Things had been…different lately. She wasn't sure what it was. If she didn't know better, she would say Dean was avoiding her. She couldn't figure out why. She hadn't done anything as far as she knew. And if she had she was sure Dean would have said something about it by now.

Things had started to change after the last case they had with the crazy guy who was burning people because they needed to be purified. He didn't like it when she road in the front seat, didn't like it when she tried to make a move. He'd get as far away from her as possible. She was afraid he was getting ready to kick her out of the bunker. She'd be on her own then.

She started washing her hair out and tried not to think about it, but it was hard. Hunting had become her life, the bunker was her home, and Sam and Dean were like her family. She'd do anything for them. And in this line of work, anything could mean her life. She was more than willing to give it to save them. She didn't know what she would do if Dean decided she was ready to go off on her own. Sam was like the brother she never had.

But more than that…she was in love with Dean. She'd realized it the night they'd come to save her from the crazy fire man. She'd managed to get away on her own, but she'd fallen asleep in the car. She'd woken up when Dean carried her into the motel room. Her head was resting against his shoulder and he smelt like leather, gun powder, and spice. She realized that she wanted to wake up every morning to the smell, with his arms wrapped around her, skin against skin. She'd barely realized she'd done it, but when he started to lay her down in the bed, she'd clung to him, not wanting to let go.

She rinsed out her hair and coated it with conditioner. She frowned when the scent of coconut hit her senses. She'd switched scents. She thought maybe the mango was turning Dean off. She missed not being able to touch him. He'd said something about it, two days ago when she'd used it for the first time. He'd thought it was a nice change. So maybe it was working. She hated the way it smelt, but if it meant things could go back to normal with her and Dean, it was worth it.

Quickly finishing her shower, Blake climbed out and toweled off. Normally she would sleep in one of Dean's shirts. But with the way he'd been acting lately, she didn't think it was a good idea. Instead, she picked up one of Sam's flannels. She'd be swimming in it, but it was more comfortable than anything she had. She pulled it over her head and braided her black hair over her shoulder before she walked out of the bathroom.

Dean was sleeping on the couch. That was the first thing she noticed. She frowned, looking from him to the empty bed. She usually shared with him. Maybe the coconut wasn't working. She walked over to the bed and climbed under the cold sheets and rolled onto her side, facing the wall. She felt Sam slip into the bed with her, his big arms wrapping around her as he pulled her close. She hadn't realized she was crying until he wiped them away.

"What did I do?" she asked.

He kissed her head. "You didn't do anything. Dean's just…he's going through some stuff he needs to work out." He made her look up at him. "Give him a little time. It'll get better."

She nodded her head, burring it in his chest. She was glad she had Sam. At least he could try to help her understand what Dean was going through. Ten years of watching the show hadn't given her much of an edge when it came to their emotions. She fell asleep in Sam's arms, tears drying on her face.

xXx

Blake played with the straw in her drink. She looked around the bar. Sam was in the back, sitting in a booth. Dean was across the bar on the other side. They could face each other and keep an eye on Sam at the same time. They had no way of knowing where the wraith was going to come from, or who it was going to go for. They were hoping it was one of them. But they'd gotten a pretty good description of her from the bartender they'd talked to earlier. Apparently he'd been on the clock every night one of the victim's died. They'd all left with the same woman. He'd told the cops, but they figured she was just a hooker and not interested.

"Another?" She looked up at the bartender then back to her drink. She hadn't realized it was just ice.

"Ah, sure." She laid another bill on the counter to cover the drink and sighed, looking around the room. They'd been there three hours and so far, nothing had happened. Well, nothing productive. She'd managed to spend the whole night analyzing every little thing she'd done for the last two weeks, and Dean had managed to go through a dozen beers. She was beginning to wonder if he'd even be able to handle a wraith at this point.

She thanked the bartended when he sat down her drink and took a sip. She'd been nursing cranberry vodkas all night. She sighed, letting the alcohol burn its way down her body and looked around the bar again. She still didn't see anything, so she started to look back over at Dean and Sam to make sure they were alright.

That's when she saw it. In the mirror above the top shelf alcohol. The melted and rotted flesh of the face of the woman sitting next to her. Blake made sure to school her face, she didn't want to give anything away. She quickly finished her drink and stood up, purposely knocking into the wraith. She gasped and looked at her. "Oops," Blake giggled, feigning drunk. "Guess I had a couple more than I should have."

The woman smiled and looked her over. Gotcha, Blake thought. "How about I help you back home?" she asked.

"Oh, I couldn't, I live ten blocks from here." Blake tried to stand and made sure to stumble.

The woman caught her, steading her on her feet and slipped an arm around her waist. "I insist. We girls need to stick together."

"Well, if you insist." Blake let her lead her out of the bar, really hoping Sam and Dean caught what was going on. Gulping down nearly a full cranberry and vodka in a bar where they liked to use more vodka than cranberry juice was helping her make her act convincible. She was feeling just a little tipsy.

"Which way?" Blake pointed in a random direction and stumbled along next to the woman. "Want to tell me why you were drinking alone?" she asked.

So she liked to talk to her food. Whatever, as long as it got the job done. "My stupid boyfriend," she mumbled. "One minute he's fucking me in the front seat of his car, the next he doesn't even want to sit next to me."

"Sounds like he doesn't know what he wants." She led Blake down an alley.

Blake slipped her hand inside her leather jacket and palmed the hilt of her pistol. "No, he doesn't. But I do." She pulled the gun out, pointing it at the wraith. "You're done killing people."

She narrowed her eyes. "Hunters," she hissed. Sam and Dean walked into the alley.

"That's right." Blake cocked her gun. "And you're finished." She fired, but the alcohol burning through her system had done more damage than she'd realized. The bullet missed and the wraith pounced. She kicked Blake back into the wall and stabbed both Sam and Dean with her spikes. Blake swore, pulling her silver knife out of the sheathe on her hip.

She tackled the wraith to the ground, fisting a hand in her hair and slammed her face into the concrete. She grunted when she was thrown and pinned. The spike started coming towards her neck. "Go to hell," she snarled, slamming the knife deep into the wraith's chest. She wailed as she fell off Blake.

She shakily got to her feet and wiped sweat from her forehead. "Let's go home." She grabbed her gun and put it away, sliding the knife back into it's sheathe. She walked out of the alley and rubbed her head. She was mad at herself and at Dean. That should have gone a lot better than it did. She shouldn't have been drinking that much. She should have known better. She climbed into the car Dean had left on the curb and laid out on the backseat.

"You okay?" Sam asked after he climbed in and Dean pulled away.

"I just want to go home." She needed another shower, and a lot more alcohol. She put her arm over her eyes, trying not to cry.