Fear Itself

It had been about three days since I had seen Alex around the base (not that I had been looking for him or anything). Granted, I would have loved to know why in the world he was acting so strange. He had been putting out one signal the whole time, and then… he just took it back? I wasn’t quite understanding. It wasn’t something I found easy to grasp by any stretch of the imagination, and while I really wanted to ask him why and the world he had behaved like he didn’t, I wasn’t very eager to seek him out. Things had been a little awkward, so I had mostly kept to myself and Avery. I hadn’t seen many people around lately. Not Alex, not Dean… and Sam spent all of his time holed up in his office.

I thought that moving down here was better for me, but I was just as lonely here as I was back at home, locked up in my room.

“Hey, Blondie.”

Dean’s voice startled me, but I looked up with a smile. “Hey,” I chuckled a little. It took a moment to get over the faint shock from finally hearing a voice in the tunnels. I saw a bag over his shoulder. Panting sounds came from his side, and upon craning my neck, I saw a grey, blue-eyed dog sitting obediently at his side. “What’s with the bags?” I asked. “And the dog? Should I be welcoming you to permanent residency and banishing you to Alex’s shower?” I joked.

He grimaced. “You had to use a West London shower?” he asked, shuddering a little. “I’m actually really sorry that you were subjected to that.” A chuckled sounded deep in his throat, and he sat down on the ground beside me, tossing his bag down. “Nah,” he finally replied. “Just a couple days.” The dog padded over to me, tail wagging, sniffing at my knees curiously. I giggled under my breath and held my hand out for him. He licked the top of my hand, then lurched forward and licked my face. My nose scrunched up, and I laughed, flinching out of instinct. “Winston,” Dean half scolded, half laughed, tugging on the dog’s leash. “He’s supposed to be a watch dog. He’s terrible at what he does, clearly.”

“Aw,” I giggled, glancing over at Dean and grinning. “You shouldn’t say that about your dog. He’s so cute.” I smiled and looked at the dog again. I grinned. “Winston,” I repeated in my best ‘cute’ voice. “He doesn’t appreciate you, does he? Nasty, old Muscles.” The dog panted happily as I rubbed his head. “I think you’re a great watchdog,” I cooed, cupping the dog’s face and making kissy faces at it before he licked me again.

Dean snorted. “He’s better at being a 60-pound lap dog,” he jested, a grin spreading across his face.

“He can be my lap dog,” I said, just moments before Winston proceed sprawl himself right over my legs, laying there contently. I sighed, “It appears I’ve spoken too soon.” I stroked his fur and rubbed the side of his belly, which I think he liked because he was beating his tail against the floor like a bass drum. “Why’d you bring him though?” I asked. “Couldn’t your girlfriend watch him?”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed, looking down for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. “About that… we, um… we broke up last night. I’m just kind of giving her some time to get her things and leave,” he explained. “She said it would probably only take her until tomorrow morning, but… you know…”

“Oh my goodness,” I muttered, looking to him with sudden concern and guilt. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I just kind of assumed you were staying with Sam to… plan… or something.”

“Nah,” he dismissed my apologies, shaking his head a little. “Don’t worry about it, Blondie. It’s not all bad.”

“How come?” I looked his face over, trying to see if he was just lying to me, but I didn’t see any facial cues that would have pointed to it. Maybe he was really okay with this.

Dean just shrugged his shoulders. “No reason,” he quickly blurted out, looking to me with eyes a little squinted when he shook his head, mouth in a crooked smirk. Now, that was a lie. A blatant lie.

I didn’t have time to call him out on it because my eyes caught Alex approaching from the entrance. I wanted to glare, actually, I think I did. I’m pretty sure my entire face twisted up into something awful and bitter and sour, but he didn’t even see it. He just walked with his head turned down, hands shoved into his pockets, and he disappeared into Sam’s room. I huffed quietly and glanced over to seen Dean looking at me with his eyebrows furrowed. “What?” I asked. “Do I have something on my face?” I quickly scanned my skin with right palm, and Dean laughed, shook his head, and looked at his legs.

“Nah, Blondie. You’re perfect,” he chuckled. “Something up with Eyebrows?” he asked.

“Actually, yeah!” I told him with subtle frustration in my voice. “He was really weird yesterday. I went to go find food because there was none down here, and I ran into him on the street and almost mugged him for his umbrella which is… never mind. Anyway, he offered me his shower and something to eat, but we got to talking, and… he just got really weird and suddenly was like, ‘oh, I have work, wow.’ But that was a lie because who forgets that they have work?!” I paused to scoff, and Dean laughed. “So I left and then he pretty much ignored me at the meeting, and we totally haven’t spoken since, and I am just done with his weird, awkward, not-really-charming persona.”

Dean managed to finally quell his laughter. “You’re right, Blondie,” he told me, finally giving me a serious look. “You know what? You should march right into Sam’s office and tell him what you think. It’ll make you feel better.”

I furrowed my brows at him for a moment, considering the idea, and I nodded slowly. “Yeah!” I proclaimed. “Yeah, I’m gonna do that!” I shifted my legs enough to make Winston move and pushed myself to my feet, marching right over to Sam’s door. I heard Dean’s footsteps a few paces behind me, and I shoved the door open, and I didn’t exactly see what I expected.

“Oh my god,” Dean muttered over my shoulder, clasping his hand over his mouth in shock.

Alex quickly rolled off of Sam and reached for his shirt on the ground. Sam sat up on the bed, looking even more shocked than Dean and I did. “I just…” I stammered. “What… were you…” Alex sighed and rolled his eyes. I’m almost positive Sam was tearing up and ready to scream. His face was beet red.

“Well,” Dean chuckled. “This is an interesting development.” Sam actually slid off of his cot and scrambled behind Alex (he was so short that he practically disappeared). Alex turned to comfort him, and I heard him whispering. Dean strode in and reached onto Sam’s bookshelf, grabbing a barely used bottle of vodka and skirting back toward the door. “That’ll be all gentlemen,” he announced, then cleared his throat. “Carry on.”

The second we closed the door behind us, we both busted out laughing. “Oh my god,” I sputtered, thinking I might cry. “Did that… did that actually just happen?”

“I don’t even fucking know,” Dean laughed. “I’m not nearly drunk enough to think about what I just saw. We need to fix that.”

“Ooh,” I whispered, suddenly overtaken with a wolfish grin at the thought of once more partaking in what people called ‘drinking.’ I didn’t know people simply referred to it as such, and I suddenly was understanding what Avery meant when he told me not to drink. “I like this idea,” I agreed, rocking a little and knocking my hip into his leg playfully. “We could do it in my room,” I offered.

“Yeah, no thanks, Blondie,” he chuckled a little, shaking his head.

“Huh?” I asked, suddenly feeling a little disappointed. “What do you mean? Why not?”

“I don’t know, maybe because there’s a scary criminal living in there that really doesn’t like me,” he answered.

“Oh,” I murmured, pursing my lips and dropping my head a bit. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

We stopped at a room I’d never been in. Dean held the door open and motioned his arm inward. “After you,” he said with a small smile. He bowed his head jokingly as I entered. The room was almost exactly like the one Avery and I shared, just as dimly lit, especially when Dean closed the door behind us. We both plopped down against the back wall, and he unscrewed the cap and took the first chug, then handed the bottle over to me. I followed suit, and he laughed a little. “You’re getting better at this,” he laughed.

I shrugged. “What can I say,” I mock boasted, smiling smugly. “I spent one night with you and got so trashed that I have acquired the tolerance of a god.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean scoffed in disbelief, taking the bottle back and drinking some more. “We’ll keep track of how many chugs until you end up on the ground, Blondie. And I’ll try to keep you from making out with that hole in the wall, but with the way you act drunk, I can’t make any promises.”

Huffing, I lightly slapped his shoulder. “That’s rude,” I snapped a little. “Give me that. We’ll see.” I snatched the bottle back and chugged until I got too light-headed to drink anymore, and Dean took the neck of the bottle in his hands and laughed at me.

“You might wanna slow down, lightweight,” he teased. “You’re already not lookin’ so hot there.”

“Hey, I… I um…” I tried to form sentences. Things were fuzzy. Maybe more time had passed than I thought, but there weren’t words, regardless of whether I spent five minutes or five hours tripping over the same sentence. I exhaled and flopped over against Dean’s shoulder. “I don’t even remember. Was I mad at you?”

Dean snorted, laughing, “No. You weren’t. You were mad at Alex.”

“Oh my god!” I groaned. “You’re right! I am mad at Alex, I’m so mad at Alex!” I paused, huffing. “You know who else I’m really mad at?”

“Who?”

“Your girlfriend.”

“Why’s that?” Dean asked, laughing even more.

“Because… because…” I let out a strained breath, now distraught over feelings I wasn’t sure were really there at the time. “Because she dumped you and that’s… that’s just so mean like… She dumped you.”

He laughed again. “Yes, Blondie, we broke up, but I wouldn’t say she—“

“Is she crazy?!” I exclaimed, sitting up. “Who would break up with you!? She… she must not be alright upstairs, like she must not have a brain because you’re like the coolest person I’ve ever known in my whole entire life.” I paused, flopping back against his shoulder. “I mean. I still only know like ten people, but you’re still the coolest.” Dean laughed under his breath, and I tried to reach for the bottle. “I want more.”

“No, I’m cutting you off,” Dean laughed. “So much for the tolerance of a god, Blondie.” With that, dangling the bottle right in front of me, he chugged what was left (a pretty good amount), and tossed the empty bottle across the room.

“Hey,” I whined. “Not fair.”

“Totally fair,” he contended. “I need more than you do. That’s science.”

I groaned loudly and shifted my weight, flopping over on my stomach and laying against the cement. “Muscles, I am so done with your shit.”

“Fine,” Dean huffed, chuckling. “Next time, I’m not gonna share at all.”

That had me shooting back up, snapping my head back to him. “You wouldn’t do that. You’re a monster.” I didn’t even give him time to respond, just crawled back over, whimpering as I curled up and laid my head on his leg. “I’d never do that to you, Muscles. That’s not fair.” I paused and sighed. “You know, I’m a really good person, Muscles. I wouldn’t never not share with you, and I’d also never break up with you like your dumb girlfriend, and I’d also never make you use Alex’s shower because it’s so gross, Muscles, it’s really gross, and it made me sneeze,” I whined. “It was so bad. I could cry.”

He was laughing again, kind of sounded like a sort of laughter you tried to fight off but couldn’t. “I’m so sorry, Blondie,” he said. “I still don’t know why you put up with him for that long, anyway.”

“Alex isn’t so bad,” I told him. “He’s like an acquired taste… like coffee and those crunchy things you put on salads.”

“Croutons?” We both burst out in laughter, gut-splitting laughter, like it was the funniest joke we had ever heard in our lives (even though, in retrospect, there’s not much funny to be said about croutons at all). We laughed so hard and so long that eventually my chest hurt, and maybe his did too. We both got quiet at the same time, and things were just quiet for a little, but I didn’t think there was anything really bad about that anyway.

I combed my finger through my blonde curls, scratching my fingernails against my scalp. I really have used a nail clipper… or maybe my teeth. I thought about sticking my hand in my mouth to take care of it, almost did, honestly, and then I remembered that I currently had my head rested in the lap of a very attractive man that I was suddenly very worried about embarrassing myself in front of. Instead, I flung my arms back down at my sides, then started fidgeting with my clothes. My fingers played with the edge of my red, grey, and olive maze-patterned mini-dress, then got bored and decided to just flip the end of my dress up and play with the waistband of my black leggings. Bored with that now, I put my fingers back in my hair and sighed a little. “I need a shower,” I complained.

“Well,” Dean interjected, slurring a little. “If you can wait another day… you can totally use my shower.” He paused. “There’s no mold in mine, I promise.”

“Really?” I asked with an excited gasp, shooting up, sitting again. Oh, now I felt dizzy. I blinked a bit and regained my composure with a lopsided smile.

“Totally,” he assured me with a nod. “You could take a shower, and then we can eat food that doesn’t totally suck.”

“His food did suck,” I chuckled, my grin spreading wide across my face. He smiled back at me, and it barely took seconds for me to throw myself at him in a hug. My arms wrapped around his center, and my face was nestled in his neck. “Thanks, Muscles,” I said. “You really are like, the coolest person I know.” There was another pause, just some more quiet. Again not bad quiet. Just quiet, and sometimes quiet was nice. I used to think quiet meant that something was wrong; I was beginning to learn otherwise. Quiet still, I lifted my head up and pressed my lips to his cheek. “Thanks again,” I whispered, smiling a little.

“For what?” Dean asked, glancing down to me, and I just grinned at him. I slid up and onto his lap, took his face in my hands and kissed him.

“For everything,” I replied when I pulled back. “For helping me. For being one of the only friendly people in this entire place.” I kissed him again. “And for letting me do this because you are a fantastic kisser, and I consider this a favor.” I grinned again; so did he.

“Do you mean that, or is this just the alcohol talking? You seemed pretty interested at the girl in the bar too,” he chuckled softly.

“No, I mean it,” I smiled, then leaned in to kiss him again. This time his arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me closer to him, and I couldn’t keep myself from giggling. I kept our faces closer, so close that our noses could have touched. “It’s actually a little depressing I don’t remember our last little adventure,” I whispered, laughing under my breath. My hands trailed down to his neck and settled on his shoulders. “I probably won’t remember this either,” I sighed. A small frown slipped onto my face, and I lowered my head back into the crook of his neck. Gently I lowered myself, sitting on his lap with my head his shoulder, listening to him breath. Somehow, this was better.

“We’ll just have to do it again when you will,” he reassured me, hand gently tracing circles on my spine over my grey cardigan.

“Okay,” I whispered, a gentle smile soon replacing the frown. I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath, totally content to just sit there.

“Really?” he asked, a little taken back, but I just nodded. “Okay, Blondie,” he told me, rubbing my back still. “I think we can do that.”

“That’s good,” I muttered, still smiling. “Hey, Muscles?”

“Yeah, Blondie?”

“Do you mind if I just stay here for a little?” I asked him, eyes closed, nose pressed against his neck, with his hands still settled on my hips.

He chuckled soft and low in his throat. “Not at all, Blondie,” he told me.

“Dean, when are you going back to your house?” I asked him with a hint of sadness in my voice.

“Um,” he murmured, lifting a hand from my waist to brush through his hair. “Probably in about a day or so.”

I whined, couldn’t keep it in, don’t know if I really wanted to anyway. “Why?” I asked, slightly agonized. “Muscles,” I huffed, lifting myself up and looking at his face now, pouting. “You can’t leave me here by myself. Everybody here sucks.”

A smile crept onto his face, just a tiny one, and he laughed under his breath. “You know you could always just come over and hang out for a bit,” he offered, and I couldn’t help but gasp a little as a grin practically overwhelmed my entire face.

“Wow!” I exclaimed, immediately lurching forward and hugging him much tighter than before, pressing my face into his shoulders. “You’re the best, Muscles!” I laughed into his shoulder. “I’ve never gotten invited to somebody else’s house before, this is going to be so much fun.” I hummed contentedly and pressed a kiss to the side of his neck. “You smell good, Muscles,” I told him, taking a deep breath. “I like you.”

I thought maybe he said something. Might’ve replied or responded, but I had passed out before it could process in my brain. All I know was that I sleep like a baby until morning time rolled around, and when I woke up, I was tucked safely in my own cot with my cat purring beside me.