Chapter Fifteen- The Argument

Dean had pulled into a parking space at the motel and still sat in it fifteen minutes later. He was beginning to feel the effects of the whiskey and his thoughts were becoming fuzzy. Vaguely remembering how he had left his brother and Naomi, he feared what he'd walk in on inside the room. He slapped the wheel, stopping the whirlwind of thoughts in their tracks. This is stupid. He was just comforting her. Any decent person would do that if some chick was crying right in front of them.

He climbed out of the car, fumbling with his keys to lock the car behind him. He could feel his feet becoming heavier and stumbled a few times before he made it to their room. As Dean turned the key in their door, he heard muffled voices on the other side. He grimaced, taking in a deep breath as he let the door swing open.

Dean stepped back as he watched the scene before him unfold. The voices had grown much louder upon opening the thick door, their owners standing in the middle of the room. Dean noted they were both fully clothed, which made the corner of his mouth quirk up for a moment.

Sam had his hands on Naomi's shoulders as he tried to meet her eyes. He was begging, "Naomi, please. You don't understand-"

Naomi shoved his hands off of her as she walked away from him. "No, you don't understand, Sam! That's the whole point!"

Dean noticed how her eyes seemed to crackle with energy as she glared at the ground. Dean knew he should have been concerned, but he realized that he liked her angry.

Naomi whirled around and yelled, "You don't know a single thing about me! You've never cared, much less asked! All what you know is that I have-no, had abilities that you had plans for! Plans you didn't even have the decency to let me in on! That don't even matter now!"

Sam pleaded, "Naomi, we could figure something out. We could get the Glory back!"

She yelled back, "Don't you get it? I doubted, Sam! When that thing came into my room, it messed with me. It said things…horrible things that weren't true, but I believed anyway! I questioned God. I lost faith in Him!"

Sam kept trying to get closer to Naomi, but she kept backing closer to the wall. He asked softly, "Couldn't you just apologize? Say you're sorry and ask for it back?"

A moment of silence fell in between the two. Naomi leaned against the wall and said quietly, "Don't you think I have? Don't you think I have bargained and begged?" She looked at the ground. "He has no reason to give it back to me. I don't deserve it."

Sam started, "Naomi-"

She cut him off. "No, Sam! The only reason you care is because I was supposed to save the world! I'm just a tool to you! To use and then throw away once you're done with me!"

Sam slowly stepped towards her, placing a hand on her cheek. "Naomi, I think you know you mean more to me than that."

Dean noticed Naomi didn't push Sam's hand away this time. The electricity in her eyes simmered into something Dean hadn't seen in them before. His stomach flopped inside him and he was pretty sure it wasn't from the alcohol.

Sam slowly leaned towards Naomi, cupping his other hand under her jaw. He paused as their noses touched, staring down at her lips. Naomi whispered, "Sam-", but was silenced as Sam pressed his lips against hers.

Dean felt a wave of heat wash over him. He was angry. Hurt. Betrayed. He spoke, his voice coming out as a croak, "Sam."

Naomi yanked away, turning towards Dean. Her eyes widened in surprise as they met Dean's. Dean held her gaze, but after a moment looked to the ground. He couldn't look at her now. Not after what he just saw.

He turned to Sam, who was shooting daggers back at him.

Naomi looked to Sam, then Dean. She whispered to the floor, "I can't do this" as she dodged around Sam to snatch her jacket and shoes.

Sam grabbed her elbow. "Naomi, wait. Please."

She looked at him for a moment, then glanced at Dean over her shoulder. Meeting Sam's eyes again, she pulled her arm out of his grip. "I need to think."

Sam let his arm fall to his side as she walked away. Dean watched her as she came closer to him, hoping she'd look his way. However, her eyes stayed on the floor as she stepped around Dean and turned around the corner. He caught a quick whiff of vanilla as she passed, but after a moment, it left too.

Dean turned back to the room and found Sam glaring at him once more, his hands curled into fists. Dean smiled smugly at his younger brother. "Well, didn't you do a first class job at pissing her off?"

Sam growled, "I was doing fine before you barged in."

Dean snorted, "Yeah, so I saw."

Sam stepped forward, staring intently at Dean. He stated, almost accusingly, "Dean, I think I'm in love with her."

Dean shook his head and chuckled softly, trying to brush off the pang of hurt that resounded in his chest. He closed the door behind him. "No, Sam. I don't think you are."

Sam stood taller and puffed out his chest, seeming to take up even more room than he already did. He spat back, "Yeah, like you're such an expert on it."

Dean laughed cruelly, feeling the alcohol releasing the words he had been bottling since they met Naomi. "Sam, she was right. You'd be fooling yourself to think otherwise. She's a tool to you. You're not in love with her, you're in love with the fact that she could have cleared your conscious about going domestic with Ruby and breaking Lucifer out of Hell."

Sam worked his jaw, his nose wrinkled in fury. He spat back, "You're one to talk about fooling themselves!"

Dean shook his head. "Stop throwing B.S."

Sam marched up to his brother and hissed, "I'm not blind, Dean. I see the way you look at her."

Dean's smile fell immediately. He growled, "Shut up, Sam."

Sam continued, "You can try to ignore it and fight it all you want, but the fact remains that she doesn't want you!"

Dean's fist flew, connecting with his brother's eye. Sam reeled back, bracing himself as he stumbled against the bed. He glared at Dean and straightened, ready to fight.

Dean was breathing heavy, his fists by his side. He warned, as he pointed at his brother, "You don't know anything about it, Sam. Shut your mouth or I'll shut it for you."

Sam stilled, weighing what to do next. After a moment, he shot Dean a cold glare before grabbing his jacket and marching around his brother, then out the door.

Dean flexed the hand he punched Sam with, inhaling deeply as he tried to slow down his pounding heart. He kicked off his boots, yanked off his jacket, and fell onto Naomi's bed. He snatched the pillow from up under his head and punched it over and over, fighting the tears he felt pressing behind his eyes.

Sam's words echoed in his head. You can try to ignore it and fight it all you want, but the fact remains that she doesn't want you.