AN: I confess I've had this sitting on my hard-drive for a little while now but just haven't found the time to upload. That and the finale just about killed me. I just…I don't even… *is traumatised*
I have a fix-it fic in the works (of COURSE) but even that is paining me. I figured I'd upload this to try and numb the pain. I'd be interested to hear what y'all thought of the finale so let me know in your reviews :)
Also - because all the cool kids are doing it - I've recently got a Tumblr: hatteress dot tumblr dot com. It's barebones at the moment but I'm organising. Head on over for fic recs, re-blogged eyecandy and fangirlish rantings ;)
It was a warm night - the sort that inevitably drove Lisa from her usual reading perch in the lounge-room to the giant, basket-weave chair on the back porch. The book in front of her was one of the more tacky in her collection - the cover featuring a giant-bosomed woman in a scrap of lace draped all over the muscled physique of the story's hero. She knew from prior readings that the story included overstated drama, painfully forced intrigue and some of the most overly fantastic sex that had ever been put to ink.
In short, it was absolute and utter perfection.
It was the sort of escapism that Lisa couldn't help but throw herself head long into. After her own limited experiences with love, she enjoyed the ridiculousness of it all - the grandness and the embellishment of it. Fictional romance was epic in a way real life just wasn't - at least not in Lisa's dabblings with it. Hell, the closest she'd come to any sort of romantic drama was Dean freaking Winchester and that was only because the man carried emotional intensity around with him like a dog carried fleas.
That was of course the perfect moment for the man himself to make a grand entrance, slipping out onto his own porch next door - beer in hand and a slight frown on his face.
It was still a little disconcerting knowing she was living next door to Dean and Sam. After so long with one brother dead and the other on her couch it'd taken a slight shift in perspective to come to grips with the new arrangement. And Lisa sure as hell wasn't even going to touch on what had happened to Stu.
It'd been five weeks since the hurried phone-call explaining that Dean was okay - that Sam was back. Three weeks since Dean had turned up on her doorstop again, a wad of cash in hand to replace the microwave and a lengthy apology on hand for disappearing the way he had. Angels had been on his tail, he'd explained. He hadn't wanted to risk her or Ben. And while Lisa had desperately, desperately wanted to scoff at that explanation, she'd heard enough about Dean's life the last two years to give him the benefit of the doubt.
So she'd done what had become habit - she'd invited Dean Winchester into her house and had slapped a beer into his hand. The look of relief on the man's face when she'd done it had almost made the leap of faith worth it too. Ben's excitement when he'd spotted Dean back had definitely made it so.
Dean had explained that he'd moved in next door - had been in there for two weeks by then and that he was sorry for not coming over sooner. Lisa had forgiven him that - he'd had a dead brother to catch up with after all - as mind boggling as that was. And then he'd done the ultimate in Dean Winchester etiquette and asked her permission that he and Sam stay there - the earnest look on his face clearly telling of his willingness to hightail it at the first sign of discontent on Lisa's part. It was that more than anything that had her nodding her head, assuring him that of course he was welcome next door. Ben practically vibrating with excitement beside her was just a bonus.
Dean's role in her and Ben's lives hadn't changed all that much since that day, beyond the fact she had to go back to making their own breakfasts. When the brothers weren't out of town on a hunt he picked Ben up from school and watched him until Lisa came home - sometimes even beyond that.
Lisa had lost count of the number of times she'd crossed the yard as dusk was falling, following the strains of Metallica or Nazareth into the brothers' garage where Ben and Dean would be elbow deep in car parts. She'd also lost count of the number of times she'd stood back quietly and just watched - taking in her son's face streaked with grease and joy as Dean taught him the ins and outs of an engine - a hunter of the Supernatural proving himself a more capable father than Lisa could ever have imagined.
And yes, she could admit, she'd imagined.
She'd always had a fondness for Dean. Their first weekend together had been one of the most blissfully exhilarating of her life. Dean, for her, had been youth - a reminder of a slightly wilder time and while Lisa loved her son with everything she had, seeing Dean again eight years later at Ben's birthday party had been a happy reminder of a more carefree time. Of course she probably could have dealt without the changelings. But then, that was life. Or rather - that was Dean's life.
And it was a life that had taken it's toll.
When Dean had turned up on her doorstep the second time, two long years after the first, Lisa almost hadn't recognised him. She'd never seen a person so utterly broken and yet still standing. It had been an easy decision to invite him in - almost natural, and while she'd worried at first about how the situation would effect Ben she hadn't worried long. Dean had very quickly proven himself a perfect fit for the hole she'd always worried about in her son's life. That Ben had seemed to be helping to stitch a bit of Dean back together as well had been a relief to watch.
It was perhaps that, more than anything, that had made Lisa assume she and Dean would be together once he'd had enough time to come to terms with what he'd been though. And while it never would have been about passion or drama or romance she had little doubt that what they could have had would have been good. Dean would have had the family he so desperately needed and her son would have had a father that adored him.
It wouldn't have been grand or epic but it would have been a good fit.
Then the plan had derailed. Lisa still hadn't got the blow by blow account but from what she understood, God and something about angels had happened and Sam had suddenly been back. And Lisa had gotten a first hand look at the sort of happiness Dean could never, ever have reached had his brother stayed lost. It had been amazing, seeing the difference in the man - still was.
From her own position Lisa had a fairly good view of Dean over the fence as he took up his usual perch at the railing. It was obvious that he hadn't noticed her - curled as she was in her seat and probably obscured a little by the hedges that needed trimming. She hadn't bothered to turn on the porch light earlier either - instead reading by the kitchen light filtering out through the window.
Lisa watched as Dean rolled his shoulders, the act speaking of tension but still more fluid than anything he'd been able to achieve before. Dean had been all hard agony in his time on her couch - broken and pained beyond anything she'd seen in another human being before. She'd been unable to miss it; had tried her best to help him through it by lending an ear whenever he seemed talkative. Even so, she hadn't really understood just how…wrong he had been. It'd taken seeing him these past couple of weeks to really see the difference.
Say what you would about the Winchester brothers - there was little doubt of the bond between them.
Over the fence Dean sighed, taking a long pull from the beer in his hand as he leaned a shoulder against the porch-pillar and stared out into the darkness. It wasn't an unusual picture, Dean brooding. The figure appearing very suddenly behind him out of thin air very much was.
Lisa might have yelped, possibly leapt to her feet to shout a warning but for one thing. The damn trench coat. Dean and Sam had made such a massive deal about it after all. Instead she found herself frozen as she took in the figure - all dark hair, rumpled suit and unconsciously alien posture.
So this was Castiel.
Lisa remembered the first time he'd come up in conversation. It'd been a little surreal being told not to worry about a quiet, brooding guy in a trench-coat hanging around the neighbourhood but Lisa had accepted it after a lengthy explanation of who he was. Or rather, what he was. At any rate - the Winchesters were even more adamant about their work not following them home than she was so she trusted they knew what they were doing.
And up until now it hadn't really mattered. Cas was being kept busy, Sam had told her, with trying to keep his brothers and sisters in line. It meant weird hours and days at a time out of contact. Dean's ridiculously sour face when this fact was explained had puzzled Lisa at the time.
Of course what happened next definitely filled in a few blanks.
Lisa watched as Castiel stepped forward, circling his arms around Dean's waist as he moulded himself to the other man's back. It was an easy movement - comfortable, intimate and very, very obviously not out of the norm. A conclusion that was underlined in bold marker a moment later when Castiel pressed his lips to the back of Dean's neck. Lisa could only watch, shell-shocked as Dean - Dean freaking WINCHESTER, self proclaimed ladies man - made a noise like a contented cat, practically melting back into the embrace.
What the hell?
"Hey Cas," Dean greeted - low and familiar and seriously making Lisa wish she could unfreeze enough to rub her eyes because this? This had to be a hallucination. "How's tricks?"
"You know I don't understand that expression," Castiel rumbled and Lisa felt her brows go up. 'Cause...wow - now there was a voice you could sand wood with.
Lisa only just heard Dean's low chuckle. "Probably a good thing."
Castiel hummed against Dean in reply, pressing his forehead into the dip between the man's shoulder blades and just...breathed - like he'd been navigating a mine-field and could now finally relax.
"Hey - you good?" Dean asked, voice ticking slightly with concern as he finally turned around to face his companion. Lisa watched - probably far too closely, sue her for being curious - as Castiel stepped back to allow Dean room to move. And what she saw was intriguing to say the least. Dark hair, nice bone-structure and full lips. Lisa suddenly found herself wishing that the Winchester's porch light was a whole lot brighter because from what little she could see, Castiel - rumpled angel of the lord - seemed to be pretty...well...hot.
Lisa wondered idly if one could go to hell for perving on an angel. Then Dean reached a hand out, hooking said angel's blue tie and tugging fondly and Lisa came to the conclusion that she would at least have company down below.
Castiel's eyes flicked down to the tie, half curious; half amused at what was obviously a well-known habit of Dean's. "Balthazar is being..."
"A douche?" Dean supplied, yanking a little harder on the tie - pulling Castiel a step closer as Dean himself leaned back on the porch railing.
The corner of Castiel's lips tipped upward - at Dean's manhandling or his words Lisa wasn't sure. "I was going to say troublesome," he supplied, closing the remainder of the distance between the two of them and snagging the beer out of Dean's hand. "He led me on an extended chase through Egypt - it was unpleasantly sandy," Castiel explained before taking a swig from the bottle. It was an easy, obviously well practiced action that almost had Lisa snorting. Trust Dean Winchester to have an angel drinking beer for gods-sake.
Then again, from what she was witnessing it seemed alcohol consumption was the least of the vices Dean had passed on. Of course it was then - perfect moment really - that Dean chose to take advantage of his hand freeing up by starting to pull Castiel's shirt from his slacks. "Y'know - sand gets everywhere Cas," Dean said, far too nonchalantly to be anything but salacious. Lisa knew the tone only too well from her own dealings with it ten years previously and felt her face heating up as she realised where exactly this conversation was headed.
She was unsurprised when Castiel's breath hitched - Dean Winchester's hands on a person tended to do that. "Really?" the angel asked as Dean smoothed one palm up beneath the untucked shirt and Lisa might have thought Castiel was unaffected but for the bit of extra breath to his tone.
"Mmhmm," Dean hummed and somehow Lisa heard the smirk, even though Dean's face was mostly hidden in shadow. "You're going to have to get all these clothes off. Probably even take a shower."
The noise Castiel made at that sounded distinctly pleased and Lisa had a feeling that it was not just because Dean had let go of the tie to busy both hands under the shirt. Though judging by the way Castiel was swaying into Dean's touch, it certainly wasn't hurting either.
"I think I may need your assistance in this Dean," Castiel breathed and seriously, Lisa's face was about to catch fire or something here because it was one thing to hear Dean being smutty and suggestive - it was practically his default setting after all - but Castiel? Angel of the Lord? And with that voice? Lisa was halfway amazed that she hadn't just melted into a puddle of goo in her basket-weave chair.
"Sand can be a tricky bitch," Dean agreed, palming the small of Castiel's back to press them both flush together. "Probably best I come for a shower with you."
Castiel made this sound then - a lazy sort of half growl that had Lisa almost swallowing her tongue for the sheer low burn of it. Dean obviously approved as well because he made a sound of his own - one that quickly morphed into a breathy groan when Cas leaned down, doing something with his mouth against Dean's neck that Lisa simultaneously wanted to look away from and mentally record for later contemplation.
She was so going to hell.
"Cas," Dean managed - only just by the looks of things too. "Cas - bedroom…"
Castiel hummed his accession before pulling back and for a split second Lisa thought he was going to pull Dean after him into the house. After all, 'bedroom' seemed fairly straightforward. But no, the angel only retreated far enough to - Jesus effing Christ - capture Dean's lips, one hand hooking around the back of Dean's neck to angle his head just so and Lisa was going to spontaneously combust here because as kisses went, this was definitely one of the more spectacular she'd witnessed.
Then, just as Lisa thought her heart was going to beat right out of her chest, they were suddenly gone - disappearing between one blink and the next the same way Castiel had arrived.
For what seemed an age, Lisa could only stare sightlessly at the porch railing, the happenings of the last few minutes playing a loop in her head. One that culminated in Castiel - Angel of the lord - licking into Dean Winchester's mouth like he was a starving man and Dean was cake.
And the stupid part was - that wasn't what had really shaken her.
Lisa knew she didn't know Dean - not well at any rate. As much as he had leaned on her in his darkest moments when Sam had been gone - she'd only seen the cracks in the armour, not the man beneath. And at some point she'd accepted that that was all she was probably going to get. Dean wasn't the sort to be himself around anyone who didn't share DNA or a history spanning back to childhood. And yet… there was something about the way Dean had been with Castiel. Something bare and honest and…epic.
Lisa found herself smiling into the darkness - soft and real. Because while she could admit that she was envious, it wasn't of Castiel for having Dean; the Dean she'd thought she would end up with. No, she was envious that Dean had found someone that could get under his defenses; that he had found his story.
That he had found it with a guy who rivalled himself in the looks department and kissed like he was trying to kill anyone in a ten foot radius with the heat of it was going a long way to easing that envy though. Plus there was the whole "Dean Winchester ending up with a guy" thing to have a good chuckle over.
Yeah - Lisa settled back into her chair with a grin, cracking her book open - she'd get over this. If nothing else, she was a sucker for an epic love story.
Tripping 'Verse: Because I'm a giant fangirl who doesn't know when to stop Tripping is now a 'verse. The next story in line is COMING SOON. For a full story list see my profile.