Sam was sound asleep. Dean wished he had that same luxury. No, his mind wouldn't have it. Even if he tried all he would do was toss and turn. He could only think of her. Those brown eyes. Her smile and that laugh. He felt sick to his stomach. It had been two days and he kept replaying the situation repeatedly. It made everything else damn near impossible. The hunter sat alone in the dark, nursing a warm beer. The light from the TV flickering across his face. He found himself turning it off just to turn it on again. Anything to keep him from sitting in silence. He couldn't take it. He needed to get up, go out and not sit there alone like a fucking loser.

The hunter soon found himself with his hands shoved in his pockets as he strolled aimlessly down main street. Glancing up and nodding to strangers who seemed happier and living better lives than he could imagine. Up ahead he could see the flashing neon sign Al's Bar Open till 2. Pulling the door open, Dean was greeted by dim lights, Drunken men arguing over science and heartbreak playing through the speakers. A tune he knew all too well as he perched himself upon the bar stool. Ordering his usual a bottle of domestic beer and a shot of whiskey to go down with it …"Nah man make it a double." He requested. The first round went down fast, and Dean wasted no time ordering another. He sat alone talking to no one. Once in awhile looking up to the TV above to see what was being said on the news. He was going to drink until his blood was swimming in alcohol. Maybe then he could get her off his mind. Soon he was having a drunk argument with himself. The pain hadn't numbed at all.

The door opened. The smell of perfume drifted his way. It was so achingly familiar. It smelt like the fragrance Annie wore all the time. While he told himself not to look, he couldn't help himself. Dean slowly turned his head to glance over his shoulder. It was not Annie but some bottled blonde with fake tits. She was beautiful but maybe another time. The hunter turned back around to drink his beer and the blonde who just arrived sat across from him a few stool's down. She didn't say anything, but she certainly made her self-known.

It was getting close to closing time. The bar was starting to clear out and Dean figured he needed to put the liquor down and get some sleep. The blonde was still there. She had been watching him all night. Sliding from her seat, she moved next to Dean. Crossing her long legs allowing her short skirt to show just enough skin to keep him interested. She leaned over, her cleavage busting from her top while she pushed a fresh beer Dean's way.

"I'm sure you noticed… I've been watching you all night." She smiled. "How does it feel knowing you're the best-looking guy in the bar?"

No one made good choices while piss drunk. The moment Dean turned to look at her. His eyes danced along her thighs and up to her pretty face. He was about to make a very bad choice. For a moment he was drunk enough to stop caring. They started talking. Her name was Cherry. It started with Cherry whispering sweet nothings in his ear. Her hand resting along his leg. She wanted to make him feel good and Dean wanted to feel good. Then she asked… "I live close. Maybe you could walk me home." The hunter didn't give a second thought. Smirking to himself, he took his final sip and the two left together.

Both her hands pressed against his chest, pushing him up against the wall. Dean grabbed at her waste pulling her in. Their bodies firmly pressed together. His hand traveling up her skirt until his finger tips met her underwear playfully pulling them down. The young woman's hands rubbed at the front of the hunter's jeans. Loosening his belt. The blonde unzipped him, and her fingers moved their way into the opening. She began to gently rub him, and the hunter couldn't take it anymore. In one fluid motion, he grabbed the blonde throwing her down on the bed. Crawling over her. His eyes traced her body as he pulled at her skirt. Then, with no warning. He froze. The alcohol was starting to wear off and he was forced to face the decision he was about to make. What the fuck was he doing? He didn't want this. He didn't want her. He wanted Annie and no offense to Cherry, but she was no Annie. Unable to continue. Dean pulled himself up his hands fumbled to zip his pants up.

"I'm sorry… I just. Trust me it's not you… It's… I'm sorry." He felt like garbage for multiple reasons in this moment. H just had to get out of there.

Annie couldn't sleep. Her mind kept going to Dean. Her heart hurt and nothing else mattered. How the hell did it ended up this way? She blamed herself but, how could she? Her reaction was just, and any rational person would have done the same. That's what she was trying to tell herself at least but she wasn't so sure. She loved him, and you don't just stop loving someone. Rolling onto her side, her hand stretched out to the empty spot. She got use to having Dean there, she forgot how lonely it was when you didn't have that. She didn't want another restless night. She wanted things to be normal again. Her eyes stared at her ceiling. The brunette finally did the only thing she could think of when one couldn't sleep. She got up. Annie moved through the dark to the kitchen. Poured herself a glass of water and stood there as she slowly drank. Her eyes darted to the clock it was 3:00 am. Annie then took a trip to the bathroom before trying to go to bed again. She let the faucet water run, her hands pressed against the sink. Her eyes looked up meeting her reflection in the mirror, she was now forced to face what she was feeling. Her brows knitted together as she splashed water on her face. Taking another longer look "You know why you had to do it..." she told herself out loud. Maybe it was better this way?

The bathroom light turned off. Annie walked back to her bedroom but felt her door catch on something when she tried to push it open. The brunette bent down to move whatever it was, and her heart sunk. It was a shirt… one of Dean's. Annie picked up and just stared at it. Slowly bringing it up to her nose. Just like his jacket it smelt like him. Her eye's started to swell up and soon the tears started to trickle down her cheek. She kept the shirt pressed close as she slumped down to the floor. She let herself cry. She missed him.