Deathly Slaves
I do not own Sam or Dean. I own everything else though.
Chapter Six
Something was happening that night. And Dean didn't know what. That was killing him, not knowing. Even when he was a kid, he knew, without words. But tonight…. He felt hormones going crazy and thought Leah was there. But it was all a dream. It had to be. Think about it, he thought, Leah didn't look back when I looked. She didn't talk to me like Sam. Sam and she had a connection. There is no other way. She just doesn't like me. Then why do I feel like I just fucked Angelina Jolie? Some stones are better left unturned I guess.
The next morning Dean woke up. Where was he? He looked around. It was a spacious room with pick and white stripped wall paper. There was a chest and chair in the corner. And a double bed, which he was laying in. Just then it hit him. He had no clothes on. Oh shit. He looked to his left and saw Leah laying there, wrapped up in blankets, unclothed too. Oh shit. Did I do what I think I did? Dean tapped her on the shoulder.
"Mhhhh. Dean?"
She sat up, careful not to let the blankets fall off her and looked at Dean.
"Dean! What the hell are you doing in here?"
"I—Uh—I was wondering the same thing."
"Oh my god."
"What?"
"Did we, well, you know. Sleep together?"
"A little too obvious?"
"Shut up. Get out of my room! Ugh... You sick demented freak."
She got out of the bed, pulling the sheets with her. She was careful not to let them fall, as giving a peek to Dean would be as bad as kissing a zombie.
"Go!"
She pointed to the door.
"Wait! We have to figure this out," Dean said as he got out of the bed and pulled on boxers.
"What's to figure out? You slept with me! It's your fault!"
"My fault! Oh no. You've got it all wrong," he shouted back.
"I didn't do anything," she yelled as she walked toward him.
"Oh yeah? What about leading me on," he said as he took a step toward her. They were now within arms reach of each other as the argument continued.
"Maybe I did. But you did the same thing to me!"
Another step.
"That's because I thought you were different. Sweeter, more fun," Dean said, bringing his voice down to a talking tone.
Another step.
"I am," she replied, her voice calming down too.
Another step.
"Then why are we yelling at each other?"
"Because we're too damn stubborn to admit the other might be right."
Dean looked away. He couldn't look at her or he'd do something he might regret. She didn't look at him either. It was too much to bear for either of them.
"You better go," she said still not looking at him, "There's showering stuff in the hall."
"Yeah," he muttered as he walked out of the room careful not to look at her.
As soon as the door closed, she fell to the floor to cry.