Dean sighed as she completely rejected his explanation for what happened.  He knew, at that moment, that he was screwed.  She hadn’t been around him, enough, during the time that he was mourning, or even just before they met.  It was in his nature to let women use and abuse him.  Hell, it was in his nature to reciprocate, to the point that he didn’t even know how to tell them ‘no’ anymore.

He pushed her into a small meeting room, wanting to get some of the worst of the conversation overwith, before he tried to ask her for the room key.  He had forgotten to grab his own, with his alcohol level being so high.  He stopped the wheel chair, engaging the brake and began pacing in front of her as she lit into him about what had happened.

Even now, sobering up, he had trouble with why she was so upset.  Yet, part of his brain completely understood the outrage.  It’s not like he had never witnessed a girl being upset with him over someone else, before.  As she finished speaking, his eyes were clenched shut, his jaw tight and he was panting, and barely realized it.

“I…um…”, he started, not knowing how to address the anger that she was showing, “This had absolutely nothing to do with you.”

He let out a long sigh that he had been holding in, his chest feeling the relief instantly.  He then shook his head, still going over her words.

“How could you say that to me?”, he asked, as he processed her saying she should have died, and that she was some sort of burden to him, “How could you even think to say that to me?  I never intended for this to happen, regardless of how I am, normally.  I wouldn’t betray your trust, willingly.  I never thought that coming down and telling a woman to go away, because I’m not alone would cause me to practically be assaulted!  I stopped her, which is more than I would usually do!  I…”

He was beginning to feel frustrated tears well up in his eyes, and he still avoided her eyes.  Dean paced, running a hand down his face slowly, “I’ll um…I’ll call Bobby.  I’ll tell him what happened, everything.  He can come pick you up in the morning with the tow truck, and I’ll just…I’ll just wait for my dad.  It was honestly stupid to think this could work…”
He dropped his hand roughly to his side, with a low growl, and turned toward the door of the ballroom, where the nice concierge guy was standing, his back turned, attempting to give them privacy.

“And for the record, I was never going to sleep with her, even after all that.  It’s stupid to try and explain that, now.  So…”, he muttered, before stepping through the ballroom door.  He was doing what he always did.  He was running away from a problem he didn’t have a solution for.  The concierge guy simply stood in the doorway, handing Dean a spare room key and waiting for Mika to decide what she wanted to do next, as Dean passed him, a sad and unfortunate look on his face.