The brunette was sitting on the countertop in the bathroom as Sam mentally catalogged each small injury on the woman in front of him. "Brielle, how did you know that guy was a shifter?" Sam was more direct this morning and her eyes remained closed as he worked. "Brielle?"
"Sam, please don't." She yanked away from his touch as he eyed the red mark on her neck, her back against the mirror. "We're not doing this right now."
"We are... how did you know? You must have been sure... to just stab the man you love right through the heart." That made her eyes snap open and move from his concerned gaze. "Tell me." Sam waited her out and saw her shoulders sag in obvious defeat. He was standing between her knees at the sink and Brielle shrugged uncomfortably, tugging her tshirt up around her neck, knowing where his hazel gaze was.
"I knew it wasn't Dean..." She whispered softly. "I told him I loved him and..."
"And what?" Sam got a sick feeling all of a sudden, his hands moving to the countertop next to her thighs.
"And he said it back, Sam." Brielle got angry and pushed him back from her. She slid down off the countertop to pace the cold tiles on the floor in front of him. "He fucking tells me he loves me." That made her laugh bitterly. "My Dean doesn't say that to me. Ever."
Sam felt his stomach drop and turned to look at the brunette. "That's how you knew?"
"Pretty fucked up, hm?" Brielle stopped pacing, finally looking him dead in the eye. "And ya wanna know what's even more fucked up that that, Sammy?" The dark tone in her voice made Sam started to shake his head, his mind slamming on the breaks in vain. His mind flashed back to the hotel room where they'd found her.
Her purse and books on the nightstand.
The clothing on the floor at the end of the bed near the body.
The disarray of the bed linens.
"Brie, no..."
"I had sex with him, Sam. Twice." Sam's right hand closed into a fist and moved to his mouth. His eyes closed painfully, the furrow between his eyebrows deepening. "I can't even look Dean in the face after I did that." She gripped her hair as she leaned back against the bathroom door before sliding down to the bathroom floor. "We were having sex when I said that and when he said it back, I knew... I fucking knew it wasn't Dean."
"So you stabbed him." Fuck.
"You know how fucked up it is to be on top of the man you love, when you realize he's not himself?" Her soft question penetrated his soul. "And the surprise in his eyes when I leaned over and pulled out my silver bookmark and held the metal to his chest? He writhed in pain when I touched it to his skin and I stabbed him." Her dark confession ended in a choked whisper and they were quiet for a moment. Sam's own eyes stung with tears and she was crying again. "I'm leaving Sam. I can't do this." She scrambled to her feet and was out the bathroom door and down the hall before he could even respond, still reeling from her confession.
When Sam got to her bedroom, Brielle had grabbed her bag out of her closet and started shoving clothing in until he reacted, trying to yank it out of her grip. "No you're not."
"You can't stop me." She ground out through gritted teeth, silent tears streaming down her face. She just shook her head as she looked up at one of the most important men in her life, her mind racing with anxiety. The brunette shoved her half full bag of clothing into his hands before she yanked open her bedroom door and bolted. Sam was hot on her heels and caught her in the war room. His strong hand wrapped around her upper arm and she was still crying when Dean entered the room after hearing their raised voices. "Sam?"
"I quit. I'm leaving!" She was yelling, not even noticing Dean standing there in the doorway, his wide eyes full of shock at the scene in front of him.
"No, you fucking can't. You don't get to quit in this family."
Brielle tried to twist out of Sam's strong hold and her steely eyes flashed angrily and he couldn't help but to think that monsters looked at him with less anger. "Get your hands off me." Pause. "I'm done."
"Hey!" Dean's firm tone caused them both to pause in their yelling. His brother let go of her and Brielle slid to the bunker floor with a soft thud at Sam's feet, the fight in her gone, too much to bear. "The hell's going on?" He looked back and forth between them, utterly confused.
Sam's firey eyes focused on hers. "You fucking tell him what you just told me, or I will." He pointed to his brother.
Brielle started crying again and Dean was shocked; Sam and Brielle were literally fighting and arguing, using venemous tones he'd never heard them direct at one another. "Sam." Her voice wavered from the floor at his feet.
"Tell my brother," He paused. "Right now." Sam stalked out of the room, leaving her on the ground a few feet from Dean. She was crying again and they heard his bedroom door slam shut down the hallway behind Dean, echoing through the bunker.
"Sweetheart," He squatted next to her. "Please talk to me."
Brielle sighed defeatedly and scooted so her back was against the couch. He sat on the floor next to her, stretching out his long longs. "Dean, I knew it wasn't you." Something in her voice had changed as she wiped her eyes and sighed next to him, knowing he was going to be angry at her.
For letting her guard down.
"The shifter."
"Yes." Pause. "Please please just let me say this and don't be mad." Brielle pleaded with the hunter next to her and felt his left arm come around her shoulders, the soft flannel he was wearing brushing against her bare arms. "Okay?" Insecurity washed over her right then, making her feel nauseaous.
"Mmhm." Dean murmured, his eyes on the coffee table in front of them, her hair against his cheek as he hugged her to his side.
"I knew it wasn't you... because I told him... told you... I loved you." Brielle waited for the explosion next to her.
"Okay." He sounded kind of confused. She took a deep breath.
"And he said it back to me." Beside her, Dean inhaled sharply.
"So you tell not me that you love me... and he said it back?" His tone was quiet. "That's how you knew?"
"I know you don't say it and I'm fine with that-," Dean cut her off.
"Fuck." He let his head fall back against the couch cushions, his arm still around her shoulders and Brielle dared a look over at the man next to her, terrified of what she'd see. "This is my fault. I'm so sorry Brie." Her mouth fell open at the unexpected response.
"Dean, no..."
He exhaled slowly, trying to collect his thoughts. "I was up all night, trying for the life of me to figure out just how that bastard slipped past you." He swallowed the lump in his throat. "When they morph into whoever they want, that person's memories come with the body. So you could've asked him anything about me and he would've known."
Brielle digested that information slowly. "So when I said it, how come he said it back when you never had?" A small smile appeared on his face, even though he wasn't looking at her.
"Because I do." Dean said quietly. "I don't say it out loud, but I hoped you knew how I felt about ya." His face turned towards hers and he studied her closely, her eyes on his for the first time in 48 hours. "You know, right?" It was his turn to have a careful tone, not wanting to upset Brielle any further.
"I know." Brielle murmured softly. They were quiet for a minute before she spoke again. "Dean?"
"Yeah?"
"There's... more." He shifted a bit next to her and she took a shaky breath, her heart pounding in her chest. Dean felt her tense up next to him before she took a couple of deep breaths, trying to prepare herself to admit to the man she loved what else had happened.
"You know what?" Dean turned to look down at the brunette, leaning in to brush a kiss to her lips. "As long as you're okay, I don't need to hear the rest." He remembered the mark on her neck; it was a hickey, not some burn. He could put two and two together. She stared at him, wide eyed in shock over his obvious trust in her. "You're okay, right?" There was no anger in his tone, only concern for her emotional state.
"Yeah, but Dean..."
"Brielle, whatever happened in that hotel room," The hunter's forehead was against hers, both of their eyes closing at the gesture. "As far as that's concerned, it's a non issue. Shit happens. As long as he didn't hurt you, we're good." Brielle's arms slid around Dean's neck and she hugged him tight, the guilt melting off her shoulders at his sweet words. His arms came around her torso and his lips brushed her temple.
Maybe it wasn't the most romantic way for Dean to tell her how much he loved and trusted her, but it was more than enough for Brielle.
spnspnspnspnspn
Hey y'all!
Only one more chapter to go! Thanks for the reviews and PMs from chapter 15! I'm kinda dying to know what you thought about this chapter. Have a wonderful week, beautiful readers!
CitrineMama