NOTE: This chapter is rated FR13

Drunken Hallucinations

A/N: This idea just came to me. I shouldn’t be starting another fic but this one will be a short one. I hope you like, please let me know if you do :0)

Dis: I don’t own Supernatural or BTVS/Angel
Summary: Who was it that gave Dean that final push to seek out his brother? Why, our favorite ex-cheerleader! Of course, it wasn’t that easy... Dean/Cordy friendship




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He was a wreck, a mess that was slowly getting worse. He was sitting in a middle of nowhere bar internally cursing his father, his job, and his freakin’ life. Things were spiraling out of control and he didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do. Now, as he stared down his beer, he wondered where he’d go from here.

His father was missing, and it wasn’t like him to be gone for so long. He tried getting a hold of him but he wasn’t answering his phone. The kicker? When the voicemail picked up, his father was telling whomever it was that was calling, to call his son. Him.

He made a face now as he took a long swallow from beer number five, or what it six? He lost count and really didn’t give a damn. Now he stared at his phone and started having that inner debate again. On whether or not he should call his youngest brother Sam. Though, the last time they really saw each other, Sam was glaring daggers at him for not sticking up for him. For letting their father kick him out of their lives. Hell, he hadn’t cared then. Let little Sammy try to live his ‘normal’ life! He figured he’d be back sooner or later anyway.

Then a month passed, then two, and then a year and Dean Winchester found himself hating his brother for abandoning his family. For making him stay silent as their father went on and on about how big a disappointment his youngest son was. A part of Dean wanted to defend Sam, but he kept that part buried deep.

So now he just sat, drinking his beer, mentally cursing his family and the stubbornness of the Winchester men. His hazel eyes drifted to his cell phone and he slowly picked it up and looked through the contacts list until coming to the name ‘Sam’. He bit his lip, thumb hovering over the ‘talk’ button before he slammed his phone back down onto the bar top and signaled the waitress for another beer.

She sauntered over to him, a coy smile on her face as she put his beer down. She leaned on the bar, throwing her hair behind her shoulder as she gave him a look of interest.

“What’s got you down, Sugar?” she purred.

“Family,” was his answer as he swallowed some foam.

“Well that’s never good,” she said, trailing her fingertips over the hand he had rested on the bar.

Dean paused in his beer drinking to admire her attributes. She had freckles on her nose, long black hair, and her tight purple tank top really accented her large-

“I’m Tracey, and I get off in an hour,” she said, her voice full of promise.

You’ll be getting off later too...

“I’ll be here,” was his only answer and the bartender fluttered away. Dean however, made sure to give her ass some attention. All thoughts of his father left his mind as he fallowed the sway of her hips to the end of the bar.

“Damn, very nice,” he said with a grin as he made to drink more of his beer.

“You could do better,” came another voice and Dean turned to see a woman sitting near him.

She was in a simple pair of jeans, which really brought out the curves. A white sweater and brown boots finished the outfit. Her hair was cropped with brunette and blonde highlights. Her eyes, a deep brown that Dean found himself admiring, were fixed on him.

“Are you giving me an offer?” he asked, putting his mug down to continued his once over.

She snorted. Snorted!

“Please! I’m here to talk,” she said.

“Well I’m not in the mood to talk,” muttered Dean as he turned away from the woman on his left, only to see her again on his right.

“The hell!”

He got looks from Tracey and some other patrons. The girl was chuckling and he glared at her.

“They can’t see me. So unless you want the cops called, I’d calm down.”

“Calm? You want me to be calm? After you tell me no one can see you?”

Dean shook his head, tossed down some bills, and got up from the bar. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with a smartass spirit. He gave Tracey a nod then exited the bar to wait for her outside. He leaned up against his car and sighed as the cool night air did him some good. He thrust his hands in his pockets to keep them warm and closed his eyes.

“Nice car,” commented the girl.

His eyes snapped open and he reeled around to see her IN his car!

“How did you get in there? Out! Get out of my car!”

“Geez, someone is a bit cranky,” muttered the girl as she exited his car, without opening the door.

“Listen Ghost Girl, I’m in no mood tonight. So leave before I rock salt your ass.”

“One,” she said, holding up her index finger. “I’m not a ghost. Two.”

She smacked Dean upside the head.

“Ow!” That actually hurt! “Stop that!”

“Can a ghost do that? No. And three: I’m your guide from the Powers.”

“The who?” he asked, rubbing the back of his had while glaring at her.

“Powers. The Powers that Be. The big cheeses of the universe. They thought you needed a little... Push.”

“I don’t need a push,” he huffed.

“Dean Winchester, age twenty five. Left alone for the first time in, well, ever: and needs to call his brother, Sam.”

“Just... Leave me alone,” he said, putting his hands up in the air for emphasis.

He was a little freaked out now and was ready to just leave Tracey and get on with his journey. He didn’t need to get laid tonight, yeah, he just needed to get to his motel room, lay down, and it will all be okay. This was only a drunken hallucination! Guide his ass! There was no such thing as guides, angels, or guardians.

“You don’t want to drive,” she said in a singsong voice while inspecting her nails. “There’s a cop about a mile down the road. He’ll pull you over for drinking and driving.”

“Okay! I’m officially freaked out. WHO are you?”

“Oh, sorry,” she said with a small laugh before holding out her hand. “I’m Cordelia Chase. A.K.A. your guardian.”

“Great,” he said, staring at her hand but not taking it. “Any way I can return you?”

“Hey!”

Dean smirked while again leaning against his car. He then eyed the girl and his smirk fell while looking her over. This time he was looking at her with suspicion instead of desire.

“Why are you here?”

“To make you stop brooding and get to your brother.”

“Hey! I don’t brood!” he protested.

“Oh I’m an expert with brooders. I had to deal with a man with brooding tendencies for over five years. I think I can tell. I’m so over the brooding and the need to play Mama Hen. So get over it, buy a pair of shoes, well: a gun in your case. And start perking up!”

“God I’ve known you for what, thirty minutes? I already find you exhausting.”

“Thanks. Now, about that jacket...” she said, putting her index finger up to her lip while scrutinizing his clothing. “It has to go!”

“What are you? The fashion police?”

“Psh, yeah!”

“How about I complain to the powers about how you attacked me, and then criticized my wardrobe? I don’t think they find that very helpful,” he said, glaring at Cordelia.

“Listen, Buster, all I’m asking is for you to call your brother. Go to him. Hell, you’ve been checking up on him any way.”

“Screw this. I’m out of here,” he muttered while getting into his car. He didn’t give her a second glance as he started it and then threw it into gear. The tires squealed as he exited the parking lot with a large burst of speed. “Good riddance!”

“This is very immature of you,” muttered Cordelia from the back seat and Dean swerved from the shock of her still being around him.

“Get out of my car!”

“No! Three... Two... One...”

Red lights and a siren interrupted their little rant and Dean looked into his rearview mirror to see an almost too happy Cordelia. Behind his car, however, was a cop car signaling him to pull over.

“I told you,” she said, clearly enjoying his predicament.

“Shit!”

He pulled his car to the side of the road and non-too-gently put the car in park.

“Next time you better listen to me. Now, scoot over before he gets here.”

“What?”

“Do it!”

He did it and Cordelia phased to the front. The air changed in the car, Dean could feel it thicken and soon the officer was motioning for her to roll down the window, and she did!

“Problem, Officer?”

“Saw you swerve. Have you been drinking?”

“No. He has though. I’m driving him home. He doesn’t like anyone touching his car and thought it best to grab the wheel.”

“License please?”

Cordelia stared into the officer’s eyes and Dean perked up when seeing a slight, white glow in the other man’s pupils.

“Well you have a nice night, Ma’am,” said the officer, tilting his hat before walking away.

“You too, Sir.”

Cordelia sighed as she turned toward Dean. Let’s just say he remembered the look his dad would get from his mother when he did something wrong. This look would go down in the record books.

“Now, let’s get going, your motel is only a mile up. Please try to refrain from any unnecessary speeding. Then we can talk about when you’re going to call Sam.”

Dean nodded and again felt the air change in the car. He knew he was the only one that could see her now. He slid back into the drivers seat and made his way to the motel.

It was going to be one hell of a long night.

TBC...

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