We got out of the bunker around seven. It was a nine or ten hour drive. Knowing Dean, we'd be there before lunch. I was staring out the window of the Impala, watching familiar scenery pass by. We'd just passed the Sioux City exit of 1-29. I was counting the minutes until we switched shifts and I could take over driving my truck and get away from Dean. The familiar land marks and the uncomfortable silence made me sigh, and I closed my eyes. Dean cleared his throat, and I looked at him out of the corner of my eye.

"You okay?"

"I'm functional." I didn't want to deal with Dean and his guilty conscience, or his sympathy, or his pity. "A-okay. Peachy. Spiffy. Swell." I was also pouting, but I chose to ignore that.

"Yeah. You sure look fine."

I exhaled a gust of breath, trying to release some frustration before I spoke. "I don't want to talk. I'm fine. I've made it this far." I didn't understand the situation I was in. When I'd first met Dean, he beat feat to get away from me. He wanted me around when we met next, but he'd already gotten laid. I couldn't figure out what his angle was. I knew Dean wasn't a bad guy. I figured he was being nice because he was a nice person. But I knew myself. I knew that I would eventually fall and get hurt, because I knew that last night was all we would ever have. I should have run away.

"I think you're a bad liar."

"I think you have a Lancelot complex. You just have to feel like you're saving everyone. I don't need your help, Ben Kenobi. I've got this." Dean muttered something about Han Solo. "I swear to God, if you just compared yourself to Han Solo I'll-"

"You'll secretly agree. Stop being difficult."

My eyes widened. Difficult? "Yeah, well… You're insufferable."

"Reckless."

"Immature." I fired back. The air did need cleared, I just didn't think it would happen right then. At least it was private.

"Judgemental."

"Egotist."

"Ice Queen."

"Womanizer!" I was one more word away from flipping Dean off and hitching a ride in the back of my own truck the rest of the way.

Dean threw on his blinker and wrenched the wheel, squealing to a stop in an undeveloped rest area. "YOU were the one sneaking out this morning." I bit my lip. He was right about that. "What is your problem!?"

Well. That was straightforward. "Well, as your research probably indicated, I just have a shit ton. Where do you want me to start?" I was being snarky. I knew it was immature, and I knew I had been the pot calling the kettle black. I didn't care. "Let's see… I'm emotionally damaged control freak who is borderline bipolar with neurotic tendencies. Self diagnosed, because I'm also a hypochondriac. I went months without getting laid, and finally got some from Mr. One Night Stand. I spend months forgetting about my old life, building up these great big WIDE boundaries between myself and the rest of the world so I can have some chance at the old "keep on keepin' on" thing that people are supposed to do, and you make me have…" I had gotten kind of shrill. I took a deep breath. "Feelings. Which is shitty of you because, frankly, I've heard how you are."

"You are either stupid or blind." Dean shook his head. "I'm going to give you some unsolicited advice. Pull the stick out of your ass and get a grip on yourself, and I mean soon. I may not be the poster child for healthy relationships or dealing with baggage, but I've seen the path you're on. Hell, I've BEEN on the path your on, and it ain't gonna end pretty. Stop being selfish. Face the fact that you are a damned human being. Stop beating yourself up because something feels good, for Christ's sakes, stop being so stubborn."

I pursed my lips. "Wow. Okay." My voice was a whisper. I'd dealt with sympathy, and pity before. All the soft words of friends and well meaning family members couldn't change what happened, so they made me angry. They were pointless. It had been a very long time since I could tell someone how I feel without hearing 'awe…' or 'poor thing,' or some religious platitude. I'd placed myself in a self imposed prison to avoid all that, and then run to avoid the past. I sighed. Maybe it wasn't Dean that was driving me crazy. Maybe I was driving myself crazy. "So, maybe I'm not fine. And, maybe, and I'll deny it if you say something later, maybe I'm being a bitch. I just… Last night-"

"I don't know what you think last night was about," I closed my eyes.

"Dean, I told you. You don't have to let me down easy. I DO know what last night was about. I know you are trying to be nice, or you think you are being helpful… I don't want your pity."

"You know, just because you pity yourself doesn't mean everyone else around you does do."

I didn't know what to say. When I looked at Dean, I knew it was never going to happen, but he would speak, and part of me wanted to forget that we would never be, or believe that maybe he wanted me for more than just one night. I wanted to be angry with him for it, but I couldn't.

There was intensity to Dean's stare as I met his gaze. I wanted to ask him what he was looking for. I wanted to tell him that I wanted him, right then, and see what he said. I was tempted to tell him that I could feel myself developing a very inconvenient affection for him, and that I yelled because if I didn't I would fall into his arms like an idiot. I licked my lips and looked down at my hands. I wasn't going to do any of those things, because I figured I already knew what he would say. If it hurt this bad just thinking it, how would it feel if he said it? No, I kept my mouth shut as Dean shifted into drive and pulled out on the interstate, calling Sam to let him know we were about 15 minutes behind him in the truck.

A/n - Mary Jane, your reviews make me have all the feels! I hope you continue to like what I'm working on :)