"Yeah, alright. Okay. See you soon," Dean hung up the phone. He and Tessa were sitting, well, Dean was sitting. Tessa was leaned up against him, clutching her head, on the curb in front of her house, waiting for Sam to come back with the Impala. Sam hadn't found out much from the library; he'd spent most of the time trying to sort through the records. They planned to come back tomorrow and put an end to whatever was haunting Tessa's home.
"How's your head?" Dean asked quietly. The cut was apparently deeper than Dean had originally thought; he'd grabbed a washcloth from her kitchen to stop the bleeding. It was already stained a deep red, and the bleeding hadn't quit. She began feeling more and more lightheaded by the second. Dean was insisting that he could stitch the wound up himself, but still, Tessa was a little weary.
A sudden sound drowned out Tessa's reply. Sam had pulled up to the curb, the Impala's engine a dull roar. Sam immediately got out of the car, moving to help Tessa into the backseat. Dean took over driving, and at some point Tessa drifted off into an uneasy sleep.
"Tessa, we're here. Can you walk?" Tessa nodded sleepily, accepting Sam's offer of his arm. She leaned heavily against him, but she willed her feet to move. She barely noticed when they entered the lobby, or the strange looks that the night manager gave them. It must look odd to the outsider: a girl dressed in a robe, bleeding, a tall guy practically dragging her, and another man, covered in the girl's blood. If she wasn't so hurt she could have laughed.
"Two queens and a sofa bed," Dean said in a clipped tone.
"I'm sorry, sir. All we have left are two doubles. There's a wildlife convention going on a few blocks away, we've been nearly booked solid for this whole week," the elderly night manager smiled timidly. Dean sighed and slammed his card onto the counter. The man handed him a small key.
"Damn, this place is old. No card," Tessa tried to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. Dean shot her a half grin and led the way to their room. It was old, and smelled faintly musty, but it was better than nothing.
"So... There's a gross couch, so no one's sleeping on that. I guess we flip for it?" Dean said, raising his eyebrows at Sam.
"Maybe after you fix my head?" Tessa snapped, sitting down on one of the beds. She didn't care that her blood was staining the floor; her head was spinning. Dean seemed to just remember that she was there, and reached into his back and pulled out a first aid kit and a bottle of whiskey.
"I don't drink..." Tessa said quietly, looking at the bottle of whiskey as if she was afraid of it.
"Well now you do, sweetheart," he opened the bottle and took a swig from it. Tessa grabbed it and chugged. The alcohol burned her throat on the way down, but it filled her with a warmth that immediately settled her nerves. Dean poured alcohol in the deep cut.
"Damn you, Dean!" Tessa hissed, taking another gulp of whiskey. Dean was completely on threading the needle and did not answer. Tessa kept her eyes closed, making sure her head was completely still. She peeked once, though, and her eyes were drawn to Dean's steadiness. His eyes were calm, and she could feel not even the slightest bit of seemed to be a routine to him: fighting, injury, binding wounds, and then repeating the process all over again.
"All done," Dean breathed, and without another word, he stood up and joined Sam on the filthy couch. Tessa stood up, relieved that she could actually walk without the world spinning. She rinsed the excess blood off of her face and decided that she really needed to sleep.
"I'm going to shower," Sam announced, rising from one of the beds. "Oh, by the way," he turned around. "You're bunking with Dean tonight."
Tessa suppressed a groan. Dean hadn't said one thing about this afternoon. In fact, he was acting like they hadn't kissed at all. The last thing she needed to do was share a small double bed with him.
What the hell? That should be the last thing on her mind right now. Tessa had hardly spared a thought for her big brother today, and now she was obsessing over a man she barely knew. It was an insult to Tyler's memory.
"What's wrong now?" Dean turned and caught Tessa wiping at her eyes, trying to discreetly rid herself of tears.
"I'm fine," Tessa settled herself onto the bed, turning to face the wall. Sam then came out of the shower, sparing her Dean's questioning. She curled into a small ball, willing herself to forget about the past three days of her life. The pain in her head, added with her heartache, made the situation almost unbearable.
"Goodnight, Tessa," Sam muttered. Tessa held up a hand in response, flashing him the peace symbol. Sam turned off the lamps, the only light that of the flickering television in the corner. Dean was completely immersed in a rerun of Friends, letting out a chuckle every few minutes. He was probably waiting for Tessa to fall asleep.
"Dean, if you don't turn that off and go to bed I'm going to kick your ass," Sam mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. Dean muttered a smart ass comment in response. Tessa couldn't make it out, but Sam seemed to understand.
"Jerk," Sam said sleepily.
"Bitch," Dean retorted, but he flicked the television off, basking the room in a sudden darkness. Tessa stiffened as Dean flopped down on the bed, making the box springs squeak loudly.
"Night, Tess," Dean murmured. He was so close to her that she could feel the heat radiating from his body. Tessa scooted closer to the edge of the bed. Dean seemed to sense her uneasiness and chuckled softly. "Don't worry, Tessa. I'll behave myself tonight."
Tessa suppressed a sarcastic comeback. Instead, she snapped her foot backwards, kicking Dean right in the shin. He swore under his breath.
"Goodnight, Dean," Tessa murmured, smirking in the dark.
Dean began tossing and turning, trying to make his six foot frame comfortable in the bed. He was careful not to touch Tessa. Every time Dean would move, Tessa jerked awake. She was already on edge, hardly falling into more than a light sleep.
"Dean, just do whatever you need to do to get some damn sleep, alright?" she snapped. Dean didn't respond, he just threw his arm across her waist and moved in closer. Tessa did the same, lying on the edge of the bed wasn't exactly comfortable. She tensed as Dean let out a quiet laugh, his breath hot against her neck.
"I'm not going to bite. Unless that's something you're in to," Tessa suppressed a groan. Maybe she should have let him toss and turn.
Finally, after wiggling out from Dean's arm, Tessa fell asleep to the sound of his light snores. She didn't wake, even when Dean snaked his arm back around her.