To say that Dean had been pissed off after what had happened yesterday was an understatement. Hell bitch has stolen his mind. He .. he'd said things he had never wanted to say, never would have said. While he couldn't remember exactly what, didn't want to remember exactly what, without getting a headache, Dean knew he had. It'd been a jumbled mess in his head and he could still remember the feeling of spitting anything out, saying anything to get some sort of reaction, to feel anchored. And yet fearing ... actually being afraid of the fact that he'd made people mad at him. More the story of his life than he'd ever liked to admit but that was the point. Dean hadn't wanted anyone to know how much it still bothered him at times how he'd let his family down. Hell hadn't erased that feeling. Just increased it.
The only good thing that came out of all of this. Was him asking Buffy out on a date and the look on her face when he had. That and actually punching Ruby. Seemed as if insane or not, his fist always knew where to strike. Dean might have said a lot of things he regretted but he'd also come to a lot of realization about Buffy. And well, Sam too. But mostly Buffy and the fact was that neither she nor his brother were going anywhere. Sure he and Sam still had their issues. And sure he had no clue what to do with Buffy ... but there was one thing this thing had proved him. Pushing them away was pointless. He'd been a drooling, gibbering mess. And they'd fed him and made sure he didn't hurt himself. Buffy had no reason to do so. But she had.
He'd happily let her drag him away. Wanting to get away from the concern questions of his brother and the looks of everyone else. They'd fallen into Buffy's bed and sleep had come so surprisngly easy that Dean was seriously considering sleeping the month away.
Until he heard a screep. A mannish scream. Bolting up in bed, he blinked and rushed off of it. Loosing vertigo for a moment from a shift in ... height? But his brain didn't fully process until he was half way across the room, and pausing. "Sam?" ... that. That was NOT his voice. Looking down at his hands, and then around the room, Dean stared at his hands.
No. No. Nononononononono! No way. No. If that was Sam. And this. ... No. "Sonovabitch!"