May 26th, 2005

Lorelai's final morning in Tullahoma dawned like many of the preceding ones had - with the sunlight streaming through the bedroom window, clothes discarded haphazardly around the room, sheets a tangled mess, and Dean's arms securely around her, his chest pressed against her back and her head pillowed against his bicep. As her eyes blinked open she tried to take a moment to savor the feeling, but realities were already pressing in on her.

You, my dear, have the survival instincts of a bloody Kakapo.

It had been seven years, but she heard Fred's voice in her head as clearly as if he were still standing right next to her. He'd decided pretty early on she was too willing to put herself in harm's way and had started making the comparison after she'd gotten herself kicked out of Umbridge's class her first official day at Hogwarts.

She should have cut and run last night, not fallen back into bed with Dean again. It was only going to make this morning harder, and she couldn't deviate from the plan. Entertaining the idea of a "future" with the man had been complicated and foolish enough just understanding what her life was like, the baggage she had, and the fact that he was a Muggle. Adding in that he was John Winchester's son and would likely turn on her the minute he found out what she was? No… she didn't need the added heartbreak.

Eventually, Dean began to stir, his face nuzzling into her neck while he pulled her closer.

"'Morning." His low voice was heavy with sleep, creating the normal stirrings of arousal within her, but Lorelai bit the inside of her cheek and did everything she could to push it down. Time was up. There was no decision to make anymore, she knew what she had to do.

"Morning."

If Dean realized anything was off, he didn't let it show.

"I'll make coffee," he mumbled, kissing her temple before rolling out of bed. It was hard to reconcile the version of Dean she'd gotten to know with the version she feared, but she reminded herself of the cold look he'd had on his face while they'd faced off against Cody the night before. It was proof her fears weren't ungrounded.

Lorelai listened to his footsteps taking him towards the kitchen, dread settling over her while she tried to muster up the nerve to follow. In the end, she slipped into the bathroom instead, opting for a shower in the hopes that the steam from the hot water might help her take a minute to clear her head and refocus. Job was over. She had to move on, and whatever this had been needed to end. If Dean found out what she was, he'd hate her anyway, and if she tried to keep this up, his finding out was inevitable. At least this way he wouldn't have to hate her, and she could remember him as the surprisingly sweet and funny guy that had been a bright spot in an otherwise dark period of her life.

By the time she dressed and made it out to the kitchen Dean was already on his second cup of coffee, sitting in the living room in the armchair. He looked up as she neared the end of the hallway, and Lorelai spotted his packed bag was already next to the door.

"Heading out?" she asked with a forced lightness, grabbing a mug of her own and reaching for the pot. Dean watched her from his seat.

"What, you're not?" Lorelai shook her head, a sad smile forming on her lips, and she paused for a moment, caught by an unexpected wave of emotion.

"I am," she admitted quietly, resuming her movements, stirring sugar and then milk into her coffee. A somber air had permeated the cabin, and Lorelai was already wishing she could turn the clock back. Dean waited, and too soon Lorelai found herself sinking into the end seat of the couch, angling herself to face him. His green eyes bored into her blue ones, and she tried to dispel the sensation that he could see straight into her soul. It was unnerving, how exposed she felt.

"Back to New York?" he asked. Lorelai nodded and tried not to dwell on how still the cabin felt, or the fact that all of the warmth it had held the past month seemed to have been sucked out overnight. It would have been easy to blame it on the cloudy skies outside, and the rain drizzling down, but Lorelai knew better. She wondered if Dean had sensed the shift yet too.

"Yeah. How about you? Got anything lined up?" Dean shook his head, taking a sip of his coffee before putting the mug down on the coffee table.

"Nah, I'm gonna check in with my dad. Probably go hook up with him for a bit, help out with whatever he's got going on."

"Family business, right?" she asked, and Dean cracked half a smile, nodding.

"Yeah, family business. Lor, we should –"

"Dean, you don't have to," she jumped in, wondering if it was even remotely possible that she could avoid the conversation. "Really. Hunters don't get happy endings, or relationships. I get it."

There was a beat of silence in which Dean frowned, his brow furrowed. But then he shook his head as if the simple action could reset the conversation, and he continued on as if she hadn't spoken.

"I want to keep seeing you," he said bluntly. "I, uh… I know that's easier said than done, but I think it's worth it and I think we can do it. I get what you're saying, Lor, but the fact that we're both in this life… I think that changes things. I don't want this to be goodbye - hell, I already didn't want to have to say goodbye when I finished this case, but I just didn't know how to get around it. And I know we probably have a lot more to talk about with all that. My point is… I think whatever we've got here, you and me… I think it's good."

It had been almost a month. It had been almost a month, and while Lorelai knew that wasn't a long time, it wasn't nothing either. It was enough time that her world had started to shift without her permission. They'd also managed to go that entire time without actually talking about the elephant in the room, and when her eyes started to sting, her face heating with the effort of holding the wave of emotion his words elicited, she was reminded why. Feelings were not something she navigated well.

"Dean, I don't… I don't think we should keep seeing each other."

The words made her feel physically ill, and Lorelai dropped her gaze to the mug she was still cradling in her hands, her eyes unfocusing and letting the colors swirl in front of her while her hands gripped harder. She bit her bottom lip, willing the moment to pass, but it didn't. The clock kept ticking, the sound of the second hand loud in the silence that followed her rejection, and soon her heartbeat mingled with it, pounding in her ears so loudly she'd be amazed if Dean didn't hear it too.

"You wanna try that again? Because it was about as convincing as when you tried to tell me you didn't mind if I ate your leftovers from Golden Dragon the other day." Lorelai looked up suddenly, surprised, and found Dean looking back at her with a certain amount of skepticism, and a slight hardness she wasn't used to. Her mouth fell open, and he arched an eyebrow as if her reaction proved his point.

"I - that's not - Dean, c'mon. This is -"

"Hey," he interjected, raising his hands in surrender. Locking eyes with her, he lent forward, his forearms resting against his knees when he dropped his hands. "I'm not gonna beg. You don't want to see me, you don't want to see me - and if that's actually all it is, then that's fine, I'm a big boy. Call me crazy, I just don't think that's what's going on here."

"Well, you're crazy then." Even to her, it sounded like a load of crap, and Dean rolled his eyes.

"You wanna at least tell me why?" It was like her mind went blank, and Lorelai looked back at him dumbly for a moment. The real answer was unacceptable. The fact that she couldn't pull together a believable act made her want to hit herself. She couldn't even be upset with him. He wasn't being a dick about it… she wasn't so far gone that she didn't register the subtle shift in his voice to something softer when he asked for the reason. She was getting to a point where she could read him too, and she knew he was hurt, even if he was trying to cover it up.

"Just trust me," she finally mumbled. "I'm not your type. It's better that we call it here."

Lorelai wasn't sure what reaction she was expecting - she'd have had to actually been coherent enough to have had some sort of thought process before she spoke to really expect anything - but whatever it was, it wasn't for Dean to laugh. That's what he did though, and Lorelai clocked the mix of amusement and disbelief on his face while the sound echoed around the walls. When he realized she wasn't joking, he calmed down, his disbelief taking precedence, and he met her eye again.

"Not my type?" he repeated back. "Sweetheart, why don't you let me worry about what my type is? Because I'm pretty sure if I weren't into you, we wouldn't have been spending the kind of time together we have been." Lorelai huffed, growing frustrated with herself for not having executed on this whole thing better.

"Dean, I'm being serious. This… this thing we've been doing? This isn't my life. I'm not the girl you think I am, and the fact that you ran into me hunting a werewolf last night should prove that -" the words died in her throat as Dean pulled the coffee mug out of her grasp and set it on the table before taking her hands in his and moving to crouch in front of her. There was a flicker of hesitation before he craned to capture her lips in a soft kiss. Her body reacted of its own accord, melting into him and letting her tongue roll against his. Before it could go any further, Dean was the one to break it, sinking back to put a few inches between them again. The stare he fixed her with was intense, and Lorelai was once again hit with that feeling of being x-rayed.

"You're scared." It wasn't a question, or an accusation, but a statement, and he didn't give her a chance to formulate a response before he kept going. "Look, Lor, this ain't my bag either. I'm… I'm scared too. Maybe I'm reading this wrong, but I don't think I am. Can you look me in the eyes and tell me you really don't have feelings for me? Because if you don't, if I am totally off base here, then I will walk out that door and never bother you again."

She tried… she really did. But every time she opened her mouth the words just wouldn't come, especially not when she still hadn't figured out how to avoid getting lost in those stupid green orbs of his. The fact that the warmth and affection she saw staring back at her made her heart flutter was just the icing on the cake, and finally she sighed. Dean nodded, accepting it for the answer it was.

"I still don't think this is a good idea," she muttered, and Dean frowned, tightening the hold he had on her hands and tugging her towards him. In the end their foreheads ended up bent together and they just stayed there for a moment, neither of them wanting to take the next step.

"I'm not gonna push, Lor. I… I still want this, but if it's not what you want then I don't want to force it. Just… just think about it. I don't know why you're so scared, and I'm sure you have your reasons, but we can talk about it. You just gotta let me in."

Dean didn't stay long after that. He rinsed his mug in the sink and pulled her against him at the door, kissing her until they were both breathless and her head was spinning before grabbing his bag and trudging out towards the Impala.

Lorelai tried to pretend she didn't feel the prickling sensation in her eyes as she waved goodbye from the doorway where he'd left her. The feel of his lips, of his arms around her, was seared in her mind, and she watched as he got into the car and turned over the engine, taking the opportunity to memorize everything she could about the moment. Maybe he was right that she had feelings for him… at that point, it felt stupid trying to argue it, even with herself… but he was wrong that they could talk about it. The best thing she could do for both of them was to stay the hell away, and that's what she was going to do.