I panicked, bolting upright in bed. My heart thundered in my chest and warning raised the hair on the back of my neck. Dean was sprawled out beside me, sheets twisted around his legs as he shifted restlessly. His breath was coming fast and short, muscles bunching and his expression tight even in sleep. Harsh grunts started to escape him and fear twitched across his features.
I had no idea what the hell was going on but I was well familiar with the shadows. "Dean. Dean. Wake up, you're having a nightmare." I touched his chest, his t-shirt damp beneath my fingers. He reacted immediately, grabbing my wrist and flipping me to my back, using his forearms to box me in and loom over me in the darkness. I began to panic, his disorientation only aggravating the feeling. "Dean, get the hell off me." I struggled beneath him, pain beginning to pound against my temples.
"Alex?" His voice was rough, gravelly. "You're okay?"
"I will be if you get off!"
"Damn." He dropped his sweaty forehead to mine, our noses brushing together. "I dreamt… it doesn't matter. I'm glad you're ok." He dropped a quick kiss on my lips and rolled off me.
I laid in the tangled sheets in shock, my mouth tingling from the brief contact. What the fuck? I stared at him hard, trying to pick up on his emotions. Nothing. He had dropped some sort of blanket over his feelings and I got nothing but a sense of calm from him. "Dean."
"Yeah?" He flipped on the bedside lamp and got out of bed. The clock blinked 4:28. He grabbed the back of his collar and pulled his sweaty shirt over his head, swiped it across his face and dropped it to the floor. He opened the top drawer of the dresser and pulled out an identical one.
I didn't even know where to start. "Why … are we in bed together?"
He turned, his mouth quirking with a mischievous grin. "You insisted."
"I did not!" I barked, scrambling to remember what happened after Cas explained he had brought me back to … contain me.
He lifted a shoulder nonchalantly. "You fell asleep downstairs and when I tried to put you down you didn't handle it well." His eyes met mine in the dim light. "You were crying in your sleep. It was easier to just go to bed together. At least then I knew you'd get some rest."
I cleared my throat. Damn. No way to regain that ground. "What were you dreaming about?"
He turned away from me, the low light throwing his back muscles in stark relief. "Doesn't matter. Sorry I woke you up." He slipped the shirt over his head and continued to rustle around in his dresser.
I shifted restlessly on the bed, tugging the sheet up higher and hating the small part of me that had thrilled waking up beside him. "Don't kiss me again."
He turned on his heel, gaze narrowing and I could feel emotions building up in him, but they were smothered beneath that blanket and I couldn't quite get a grasp on them. "What?"
"Don't. Kiss. Me. Again." I jutted my chin out, determined to stand firm after the debilitating weakness I had shown in the past twelve hours. No way in hell was I going to acknowledge that my dreams of him were the only ones that didn't end in darkness this past month. That the memory of his arms wrapped around me and us breathing in sync had often shifted in the deepest part of the night to thoughts of us sharing the same breaths and our bodies wrapped in an entirely different kind of embrace.
His eyes darkened at my order and he strode purposefully toward me, dropping a change of clothes for me on the bed and planting a fist on either side of my hips. I pulled back and he pushed the advantage, forcing me back until I hit the mattress, his scent enveloping me on all sides. "You want me to keep my distance? I call bullshit. You and I both know there have been enough sparks between us to set this bed on fire. And after spending the last month worried out of my fucking mind, not knowing if I'd see you again? I sure as hell will be taking that mouth again, and next time it's not going to be some little peck."
I licked my lips, preparing a scathing retort that would set him back on his ass, re-establish the distance between us. I couldn't afford to have him get this close, for him to want more than what we had. Neither of us could afford that with what was coming.
"Lord, woman, you're killing me." Dean suddenly slid his hands beneath my butt and rolled us until I sprawled over his body, my legs naturally falling on either side of his hips. I stared at him in shock for a split second before he buried his hands in my hair and pulled me down to meet him. He went after my mouth like he was starving for it, and my response was hesitant, trying to process the instant flare of heat in my belly while simultaneously trying to pull away. He kissed like a dream, though, all wet heat and passion and it wasn't long before I gave up on thinking altogether. A sudden wave of lust nearly toppled me, and I buried my hands in his shirt, struggling to find an anchor. Whatever he had used to suppress his emotions suddenly disappeared and there was so much rolling off him I got lost, caught up in the anticipation and heat. It was thrilling, and I suddenly reveled in being free of my own hesitations and fear and ever-present defenses, just wallowing straight into his lack of inhibition. I couldn't deny how much I wanted this, and he was giving me the chance to grab onto it with both hands.
He rolled us again until my back was to the mattress and he was leaning above me, bracing an arm above my head. My hands slipped beneath his shirt and his skin was firm, his muscles defined and clenching beneath my explorations. "Lex." His rough rasp sent tingles down my spine and I arched in reaction, bringing myself up against him and rubbing against his firm chest. He growled and nipped the side of my neck, just where it met my shoulder, sending another toe-curling shiver down my spine.
Heat was swirling tightly in my belly and I drew my knees up along his ribs, notching my center tighter against him. I rocked in a small motion, moaning at the small friction it afforded. My thoughts were hazy as I stared hard into his glittering green eyes. "Please, Dean. Please."
He groaned and surged, fiercely pressing his lips back to mine. He flicked out his tongue and plundered his way into my mouth without a moment's hesitation. I met his aggressive kisses with my own fire and heat, sliding one hand to the small of his back and pressing his hips tighter to mine and the other skimming his spine until it reached his broad shoulder. I sank my fingers into the muscles there and held him against me, all his strength and heat enveloping me. Hard kisses gave way to wet, open mouthed caresses along my throat and jawline, and I arched into them.
He groaned at my movement, thrusting against me, our clothes a thin barrier to where we wanted to be. I tightened my legs around his hips, pressing against him with a moan, fingers tightening, digging into his burning skin. He rocked into me, slapping one hand to the headboard, the other dropping to my hip. He held me in place as he began to thrust against me, setting a pounding rhythm that set my blood singing despite the clothes between us. Our breath synchronized and I could feel the lust just burning through his veins. He was almost scorching with it, all heat and strength and the heady promise of sex and I couldn't get enough.
"Stop. Stop!" His growl startled me and he slammed his fist against the headboard. He shoved away from me, all the way to the edge of the mattress. He dropped to his back and pressed his arm over his eyes, muscles flexing deeply in frustration.
Fire still licked in my veins. "Dean, please—"
He shoved off the bed and got to his feet, facing away from me. "We can't, Alex."
What? "I don't understand." I sat up, heat still pounding low in my belly and every inch of me deliciously tingling.
His glare was full of banked lust until he ran a rough hand over his face and stepped farther away from me. "We're not doing this, Alex. Don't make me repeat myself." His entire body visibly vibrated with tension.
"What the hell is wrong with you?" I snapped, straightening on the bed and pulling my shirt back into place. "You started it!"
"It was a mistake-"
His regret punched me in the gut and confusion enveloped me. I could still feel the lust pouring off him! Abruptly the tether holding us together snapped and his emotions were blanketed again, leaving me reeling. "Fuck you, Dean Winchester! What the hell do you want from me?!"
"Damn it, I just – we're not- …" He threw up his hands. "This whole fucking situation is complicated!"
"No shit! That's why we weren't going to start anything like this!" What a load of bullshit. I got to my feet, struggling to find a sense of equilibrium. "Give me one good reason why you did. Just one good reason, Dean."
"I wasn't … I wasn't thinking. We were in bed, and then that fucking dream…" He ran an agitated hand through his short hair, sending it askew.
"So, you woke up and I was convenient?!" I snapped viciously. "Screw you—!"
His eyes snapped to mine. "This was not about you being convenient."
"Bullshit." I was so stupid to think I could trust him, that in this fucked up mess of my life that he would be there to make it better, to give me some good memories to help erase the bad.
"Damn it, Alex-" His furious growl still sent tingles down my spine. "You know this is a bad idea-"
"I do! That's why I told you not to kiss me!" Hell. My body was still humming for him. I needed some air. "Fuck it. Let's just forget this ever happened." I brushed past him into the hallway, trying to gather my composure as I went.
"Alex, wait. Wait, damn it!" He grasped at my elbow at the top of the steps and spun me around. "What do you want from me?"
"I feel we were both pretty clear on what we wanted. Until you decided to act like a jackass." I stared at him frostily, desperately trying to shut down my emotions the same way he did his.
"That's not what I mean. That? In there? That's the last thing you need right now."
"Damn it, Dean, don't you dare tell me what I need!" My first curled, and I seriously contemplated punching him in his self-righteous face.
He gritted his teeth together so hard I heard his jaw click. "It's been one month – one fucking month – since I helped put you back together. Stitches and gauze can only do so much, Alex, and I know for damn sure that a month on your own fighting demons isn't going to help you work through the shit you went through. Stokes—" He bit off his sentence, visibly fighting back rage even though I felt nothing but a high-energy hum from him. "Stokes told me every goddamn thing those monsters did to you. Every one. Don't think for a minute that I didn't make him pay for every single second they tortured you."
Icy cold shame spread through me, and I felt the blood drain from my face. Well … fuck.
"So, that? In there? I know I started it. I couldn't help myself. I've been so fucking worried about you this past month-" He bit off the rest of his words, his eyes pained. "I just couldn't help it, Alex. I wanted that, with you." The longing in his eyes sucked the breath straight out of my lungs. "But then all I could think about was what Stokes said they did, what all happened to you…" His eyelids dropped low and he wrapped a hand around the back of my neck, pulling me in stiflingly close. "I couldn't do it, Alex… I just couldn't do it."
Damn it. I swallowed hard, the shame sinking into a cold ball of dread in the pit of my stomach. Damaged. Filthy. Scarred. I dropped my gaze, unable to meet the intensity of his look. He had every right to feel that way, and I couldn't fault him for it even a little. I tried to block out the gut wrenching sense of loss that suddenly overwhelmed me. What a joke. I had just wanted one good thing to hold tight to for the time I had left, to push away the darkness at night and the memories that terrorized my dreams. But Dean was right - things had been done to me, things that had left me damaged. I wasn't fit to kiss him let alone try and create something beautiful together. I had nothing beautiful left inside me to give. "I – I understand. Let's just forget it ever happened."
"Alex—" He ran a hand over his face.
"Dean, please. Just drop it. I get it."
Soft footfalls sounded down the hallway and Sam appeared, absurdly quiet for someone of his size. A heavy press of worry and concern needled at my temples and I realized it was coming from him. "Everything ok up here?"
"It's fine, Sam. How are you feeling?" I turned my back on Dean, intentionally putting up walls mentally to help block out Sam's emotions and to block mine in. There was enough to deal with as it was.
Sam shot a look between us. "Bobby's got breakfast on, said to come down and eat when you're hungry."
"Thank you, Sam. I'm starving." I brushed past him and down the steps. I was halfway down the stairwell before Sam's low statement reached me.
"That better not be what I think it was." Anger swirled with his concern. "Don't you think she has enough to deal with right now-!"
"-Shut up, Sam. It's none of your business."
Sam's frustrated curse followed me down into the front hallway.