Disclaimer: Not mine, yada yada. It's a fan fic site: what do you expect?
A/N: This is really a continuation of Bunker Strays: Tara, but can be a stand alone one shot as well. However, this will give spoilers for Tara's story if read out of order. Enjoy.
-Liza
I should have kept in better contact with the hunter community. I scold myself yet again. If a hunter knew we were missing, there would actually be a chance of rescue. As it is we are as good as dead. I look down at the thirteen year old boy asleep with his head in my lap. He is small for his age; interested in books and video games far more than sports. I hope that being raised by his sister didn't screw him up in the whole social interaction area. He never seemed to have close friends and I can't help but wonder if not being able to answer 'why don't you have a mom and dad?' had anything to do with it.
'Well you see my mom and dad disappeared when I was 6 so my teen sister raised me but I insist on tracking down any piece of information I can on anything to do with hunting monsters so I know way more about what probably happened to them than she wants me too' can't be a real big friend maker sentence.
So here we are, locked in a basement, all because I got mad at Cody when he asked about hunting, which caused him to hide stuff from me and track down the werewolf pack that killed our parents on his own. And then seek revenge on his own. Not into sports, but gutsy as hell nonetheless. And if I had kept in contact with at least one hunter then maybe my chances of saving my little brother from the same gruesome death his parents met would be higher. But no. I choose to ignore the world of the supernatural and lead a 'normal' and 'safe' life. Ha.
I stiffen suddenly at the sound of the basement door opening. Cody's steady breaths cease as he wakes, keeping still and listening just as hard as I am.
"Frank, check this here basement with me, will ya!" My heart skips a few beats and then takes off running again. That's not the voice of our captors. Cody and I scramble to our feet and I push him mostly behind me just as the newcomers reach the bottom of the stairs.
Well damn. More wolves.
"They're in there." I hear the beta say. I back quickly away from the hotel door keyhole and stand with my back to the wall between the door and the window. The table leg gripped tightly in my hands won't really hurt a werewolf, but I'm praying that if I can just get out the door and scream loud enough and long enough, someone will come with help. I try not to think about all the hundreds of things that could go wrong that could then get other people hurt or killed. Cody is what matters most. I glance at him, crouched on the floor below the window, ready to run the second he has a chance. We nod to each other and then the door opens.
I swing for all I am worth, connecting hard with the first person through the door. There is a shout from behind him but he crumples to the floor. I bring back the table leg and prepare to swing again, but instead find the wind knocked out of me as a man the size of a linebacker throws me to the floor, landing hard on top of me.
"Get off my sister!" Cody yells. No, Cody! Run! I want to shout but there is no air in my lungs. All is chaos as I flail and fight under my attacker and over his shoulder I see Cody dragged away, also kicking and screaming for all he is worth. At least we are making noise like I wanted. I want to scream as well but I still can't breathe well enough.
"Listen to me!" The man pinning me down shouts. "We're not here to hurt you. We are friends!"
"Like hell." I gasp out. I focus on his face long enough to see him roll his eyes.
"Hey, hey!" A woman's voice says to my left. "Look at me for just a second." I glance at her but don't stop struggling. Cody's shouts are muffled now and I am trying to see where he is too.
"Look! Not a werewolf!" Says the woman, placing what looks to be a silver blade against her skin. She doesn't cut herself with it, but just the contact would burn a werewolf. This gives me pause.
"Who are you then?" I ask, still gasping for air.
"Dean, please, you've got to let her breathe." The woman says. The man above me manages to catch my one free hand and pin it down, bringing a little of his weight off of me a second later but still effectively immobilizing me. I breathe deep, filling my lungs again. The woman frowns but shrugs a little.
"We're not werewolves. And we are here to help you." The woman says. "If you and your brother, he is your brother I assume, could stop fighting us for like ten minutes we can at least start to explain everything. But you're not prisoners anymore. Sound okay?" I stare at her for a long moment, trying to gauge her honesty. She has wide set brown eyes and her hair is pulled back, stray strands framing her face. She smiles a little, and though she seems nervous, she also seems genuine. I nod.
"Good." Says the man on top of me. "Now don't try to hurt me while I get up." He releases my wrists and moves to my right, still kneeling. The woman stands up and offers me a hand. I get up without it, the man standing as I do. He quite a bit taller than me and is glowering down at me. I level him a glare of my own, not breaking eye contact until Cody runs across the room to my side. He holds my arm tightly, looking around the room with me. Five men and the one woman. Three of the men I think I recognize as part of the pack that took us from the alpha's basement prison.
"So, um, how about I have a talk with—" The woman starts.
"No." The two new men say at the same time. I take in their ready stances, sturdy boots and watchful eyes. Hunters for sure. I glance to the three other men, the ones who are definitely werewolves. Nothing is making sense.
"Sam, Dean, you can be right outside the door but I really think it will be best if—" The woman starts again.
"Winchester?" I ask sharply. Cody looks up at me and then back at the men, whom he had been studying.
"Winchester?" He echoes. "Like Dean and Sam Winchester?" The men's looks of confusion at being recognized confirms it. Cody's expression fills with wonder.
"What the hell are Winchesters doing working with werewolves?" I demand.
"Let me talk to them." The woman says again, looking imploringly at the taller of the two brothers; he must be Sam because the woman called the other one Dean. "Give us like twenty minutes tops. You can be right outside the door; leave it open and everything." She continues. They both frown but all five men file out the door. The taller Winchester stands right in the doorway, his arms folded and stance wide, looking very guard like. I note that the woman rolls her eyes at this before turning to us.
"Well, you probably have a lot of questions, but let me summarize some stuff first. I'm Tara by the way."
If you had told me two months ago that I would be living in a weird, underground, honest to goodness lair with three hunters who were friends with werewolves, I would have laughed in your face and told you to eat a better meal with your alcohol.
And yet.
Cody hasn't stopped grinning for days though, so there is some upside. I still don't like him knowing so much about hunting and monsters but at this point there is no holding him back. Tara and I got on great from that first conversation at the hotel in Lawrence. I tend to like people who are so open and honest with me though. She has lived with the Winchesters for a year now, starting when they rescued her from some vampires. When I later questioned about them taking in everyone they rescue she laughed and said she was the first and it was only because she was sort of family. I raised an eyebrow and looked pointedly at Sam (the taller one), whom she was clearly in a relationship with. She laughed again and assured me there was no actual relation.
Dean (the one who had pinned me) has made a couple, grumbled remarks about 'half way houses' and 'collecting strays' and seems to spend a lot of time in the garage (but I don't know if that is his norm or not). Tara glares at him when he says such things and then gets extra cheerful to me and Cody. Sam seems fine with us being here and has been showing Cody all around the 'bunker', as they call it, and pouring over books from the many stocked shelves with him and answering the endless questions. I tried to discourage this at first but Sam has proven thus far to direct Cody to the simpler, less gruesome lore and doesn't embellish with horrid stories of his own. I am still worried about Cody's growing knowledge of the reality of all that is assumed to be myth and legend, but Sam seems to be selling the idea of the Men of Letters, the all but extinct society of people whom this lair once belonged too, who were devoted to the study of the supernatural without the need to go kill everything that goes bump in the night.
Tara has helped me get in contact with people back home and make excuses for our disappearance. Much to my horror, my apartment owner is happy to accept my overdue rent but has evicted us anyway and insists that I move out our stuff by the end of the week. Tara thinks I should have it all shipped here and move to Lawrence, whereas Dean has offered to buy us train tickets right away and suggested a few cheap hotels we can stay in until I find another apartment. Cody hasn't exactly said he wants to move here, but he has said he doesn't want to leave yet.
The morning after talking to my landlord, I shoo Tara and Sam out the door after a huge breakfast, sending them grocery shopping while I clean up. Cody I sent to clean up the room he and I are staying in that has been gathering new piles of books every day. I find myself humming to the radio Tara left on while thinking about my options.
Tara wants Cody and I to stay here (at least stay in Lawrence, but probably right here in the lair— bunker, whatever). Sam has also expressed that he would be pleased to have us around. Dean however seems to have made it very clear that we are not welcome long term.
We have lived in Baton Rouge all of Cody's life and most of mine, but since our parents died it hasn't really been home. We have next to no connections and certainly no strong ones. I don't have an apartment or a job anymore, so no matter where we are, we are starting from scratch.
I stop washing dishes as I hear footsteps, ready to tell Cody that he hasn't been gone long enough to have put all those books back already, but stop when I hear that the steps are too heavy to be Cody. Dean looks up as he enters the room and we both stare at each other for a moment. I am trying to chalk up the uneasiness I feel around Dean to my first impression of being tackled and pinned down and my second impression being hardly formed since I haven't spent much time with him. But truth be told a portion of that uneasy feeling probably has to do with the fact that I am a woman with functioning eyes.
I turn away from him and back to the sink, cursing his vivid green eyes and sharp jaw and freckles and the smudge of grease on his neck.
"Tara left you a plate of food in the frig and ordered me to make you eat it before she and Sam get back." I tell him. I hear him grunt and cross to the refrigerator. "I'm not going to make you eat but there it is." I add. He scoffs.
"Cody needs a mom more than I do so that's fine by me." He says. I whirl on him.
"What the hell does that mean?" I demand. He stops with one hand on the refrigerator handle and looks at me with an arched brow. "You think I'm not being enough of a mother to him? You think this whole crap with the wolves is somehow my fault? Well news flash asshole but I'm not his mom and I am only doing the best I can to keep him safe! Yeah, I failed, but I'll be damned if I'm going to do so again. And if keeping him around jerks like you will keep him closer to the idea of danger but not actually in danger, then to hell with you Dean Winchester because that's what I am going to stick around and do!"
I throw the plate in my hand at him without thinking (he ducked, but I heard it shatter) and storm out of the room, absolutely fuming, but quickly realizing that I just gave Dean a lot more than he deserved. I stop mid stride in the hall, wondering if I should go back and apologize.
"Sam's always been the one who was better with PTSD folks." Dean says from behind me. I turn to him, angry tears pricking at my eyes.
"I don't have PTS—" I start harshly.
"Yeah, you do." Dean say flatly. "Or the 'I've been kidnapped by werewolves and thought my kid brother was going to die' version of it anyway. Look, I get that." He walks closer to me, stopping a few feet away and leaning his back against the wall. "I practically raised Sam. He sure as hell isn't a kid anymore but I haven't stopped worrying about him since I was old enough to understand what worry is." He glances at me out of the corner of his eye.
"It's not your fault. Garth and his guys questioned the alpha. He'd been looking for you two for years, hell bent on finishing off the family. You kept Cody safe for a long time and he still is safe." I don't know if it was the news of the alpha or the reminder that Cody is safe, even if he almost wasn't, or the fact that Dean understands at least in some form the weight of parenthood without being a parent and that I am not alone in that, but I broke. The sob catches in my throat but the tears spill over, hot on my flushed cheeks. I turn away from Dean, not knowing where to go to be alone, but not wanting Dean to see me break down and determined that Cody won't see either.
I only make it half a stride though before a large but gentle hand catches my wrist. I start to pull away from him, but he ignores me, walking further down the hall, leading me behind him. The tears won't stop falling and my vision is blurry and my throat is tight with the effort to stop crying which is only making it hard to breathe. Several turns later I find myself directed to sit on a small couch in a book filled room I don't recognize, Dean sitting beside me.
"I may not be great at the comforting thing, but I know you want to be away from Cody." He says softly. This only makes me cry more, partly because the truth of it, and partly because I picture a young Dean hiding tears of panic and worry and stress from his little brother.
How long I cry, I am unsure, but Dean doesn't leave. He never touches me or makes any physical move to comfort me, but he doesn't leave, and somehow this in and of itself is comforting. I finally cry myself out and wipe my eyes and my nose on my shirt hem and try not to think of how blotchy I am now.
"Thanks." I say waveringly.
"I didn't do anything." Dean says.
"I know." I say with a small smile. "Sorry for yelling at you." He shrugs.
"I've not been too friendly so how about we just call it even?" He suggests.
"Sounds good." I say. We are quite for a while.
"I won't mind if you stay." Dean says suddenly. I look up at him in surprise. He looks away from me quickly. "I mean, you know, if you want too. You could even stay here in the bunker; there is plenty of room. But I also get if you don't want Cody around us. Hunters and all that. We can help you find a place. I bet Tara would be really great at homemaking type stuff." I smile, seeing a kinder side of Dean that I thought had to be in there since Tara talked about him so warmly, but that I had yet to find proof of.
"I think we will stay." I say slowly, only making the decision as the words leave my mouth. "I don't really want Cody to become a full time hunter, but now that he knows this is all out there nothing I do will keep him from it if it's what he wants." Dean smiles a little.
"He's a cool kid." He says.
"I think so." I agree. Dean looks up and meets my eyes, a soft smile with just a touch of dimples. Cody. I'm staying because it's what is best for Cody. I remind myself.
"Cody, let me park the car!" I say as he throws open the door and jumps out of the still moving car. "I know you're excited and all but come on." He completely ignores me and runs towards the open garage door of the bunker where Dean is waiting for him. I roll my eyes but smile. In the six months since I decided to stay in Lawrence, life has been pretty good. I got a boring but well paying 9-5 job, an apartment and a car. Cody likes the school here, and every Friday we come back to the bunker to spend the weekend with the Winchesters and Tara. Except last weekend they were gone on a hunt and Cody missed them terribly.
"Hey buddy." I hear Dean say as I get out of the car. "You ready to learn how to fix an alternator?" He ruffles Cody's hair and waves at me. "Hey Devon."
"Hey Dean." I greet. Cody has run off further into the garage to get the tool box that Dean lets him call his own. "How was the hunt?" I ask, noting a fading bruise on his left temple.
"The norm." He says with a shrug. "Tara talked the crazy guy with a gun down so that we could gank his ghost girlfriend, so it all turned out alright." I give a cross between a smile and a grimace, the mental picture of Tara face to face with a gunman horrifying but yet being glad they are all okay.
"Right, well, I'm going to go help start dinner." I say, gesturing back to the bags in the car.
"Oh, I'll get that." Dean says, starting for the car.
"Oh, you don't—"
"Be with you in a minute bud, I'm gonna help your sis get this stuff inside." He calls to Cody.
"Okay!" Cody calls back, not even looking up from the engine part sitting on the floor at his feet.
"This it?" Dean asks, a paper grocery bag in one arm and a duffle bag in his other hand.
"Yeah." I nod, falling into stride with him as we head in.
"So Tara and Sam were talking about 'us adults' going into town this weekend for a couple hours; hitting a bar, playing some pool." Dean says casually. "But they are figuring Cody can't stay here by himself, so they aren't even going to suggest it." I frown a little. A night out sounds fun, but leaving Cody alone does set nerves on edge. "I told them that he's nearly 14 and totally mature enough to be fine on his own for a few hours and that it's actually you they are worried about."
"Me?" I ask.
"Yeah, cause Cody will be fine on his own, but you won't be fine with him on his own." Dean gives me a look, daring me to argue with him.
"Well, fine, that's probably true, but can you blame me?" I ask defensively.
"Nah, but I think you're going to smother both of you if you don't let him loose a little bit." He says. "If you don't let yourself loose a little bit."
"I can let loose." I mumble. Dean raises an eyebrow. "I can, I just don't very often." I sigh. "Look, Cody got invited to a bowling party tomorrow but didn't want to go because he wanted to see you guys, but maybe we can grab a beer while he goes to that."
"Sounds like it could work." Dean says with a nod. I nod as well, feeling nervous for some reason.
"So what do you think about Dean?" Tara asks me the next afternoon while teaching me to take apart and clean the handgun that she and Sam insist I must carry.
"That is a very vague question." I answer.
"Devon." She says with a sigh.
"Tara." I say, mimicking her.
"Come on, you know what I mean." She levels me a look that lets me know what she means if there had been any doubt beforehand. For weeks she has been giving me glances whenever Dean and I are in the same room and today it seems she is finally verbalizing her thoughts.
"I know what you mean, but I also know that what you mean is a lot more than what there actually is." I answer. She opens her mouth, then closes it and cocks her head to the side a bit.
"What?" She questions with a laugh.
"I get that you seem to think Dean and I should get together or whatever, but I don't— I don't see that happening, Tara." I tell her.
"Why? Come on, I know you like him at least a little bit. No, don't roll your eyes at me." She says as I do just that. "You act different when he is around. You're jittery and look at the floor and don't laugh as much. He makes you nervous."
"Because he's a hunter." I say.
"Sam's a hunter and you don't act like that around him."
"Sam's different." I argue. "Sam still acts like a normal guy when he's off the job, and I haven't seen him on a hunt, which is fine by me. Dean acts like a hunter all the time. He's always looking for an exit and his hand hovers by his shirt edge all the time, like he's ready to grab for a weapon. So yeah he makes me nervous but not in the way you want."
"Or maybe you just don't recognize the nervousness for what it truly is." She says with a suggestive, slightly 'I'm-telling-you-girl' look.
"No, Tara." I say with a sigh. "Just no."
"Look, Devon, all I'm saying is I denied it with Sam for a long time and looked where that turned out." Tara says.
"That's you and Sam." I argue yet again. "Dean and I— there isn't even a 'Dean and I'. It isn't a thing. I mean he tolerates me now and sure he likes Cody but that doesn't make us fated to be a couple. Honestly, did the Men of Letters have a crappy romance novel collection that you've been over reading or something 'cause you're head is full of cheesy ideas."
"'And then Dean's green eyes locked with her blue ones and she felt her womanly parts quiver—'" Tara says in a dramatic voice.
"Shut up!" I laugh, throwing a rag at her. "Gosh, what if they heard you?" Tara laughs as well.
"Well you know what got Sam and I together?" She asks. "Apart from Dean threatening to lock us in a closet together?"
"No, what?" I ask, rolling my eyes at her antics on this topic.
"Red lacy panties." She says with a grin, enunciating each word strongly. I give a snort of laughter. "No, really. Sam and I bumped into each other and I dropped the laundry and it all went from there."
"And your point?" I ask.
"Sometimes things have to get awkward before they get better!" She says.
"Things aren't bad now!" I tell her. "Look, Dean's great, sure, but I am not unhappy without him as a boyfriend."
"But you could be even happier!" She says in a sing-song voice. I just roll my eyes again.
After that conversation with Tara, drinks out sounded even less appealing, but the plan was set and off we went. I wondered if Cody felt weird with 4 adults dropping him off at the bowling alley in a classic Impala, but he seemed cheerful about the whole plan.
"So Devon, how much of a lightweight are you?" Tara asks as we pull in at a pool hall.
"I don't know actually." I answer. "I haven't spent a lot of time drinking since I've been raising Cody and all."
"Ah, come on." Dean says. "Having a kid brother underfoot is all the more reason to drink." He tosses a grin at Sam who rolls his eyes. "But don't worry, we'll only get you drunk enough to dance on tables, not enough to prevent your memory of the night." He and Tara both throw an arm each around my shoulders and steer me into the bar.
"Oh, thanks, Dean, I'm totally thinking about how fun this sounds now." I say, the dry comment met with much laughter.
But really, the night turns out to be a great deal of fun. We play pool and eat greasy nachos and take shots and drink beer by the pitcher and as promised, Dean keeps handing me food whenever I start to feel a little too tipsy. A few minutes after I don't know what number round of shots though, the room starts to spin a little bit.
"Whoa, Devon, you okay?" Sam asks. I feel a hand grasp my upper arm and a voice say 'She should go outside for a bit. Take some fries. Get carbs in her.' And then fresh air hits my face like a welcome slap and I breathe deep.
"Wow, I hadn't even realized how smokey it was in there." I comment.
"Yeah, it can hit you pretty suddenly." I look to my left and see it's Dean who has accompanied me outside, not Sam or Tara. "You alright? You haven't had all that much."
"Says the guy who has a whiskey with breakfast." I snap back. His face goes all steely. I shake my head and take another deep breath, trying to clear my thoughts. "No, I'm sorry, that was harsh. I'm just more of a lightweight than I thought I guess."
"Yeah, I'll say." He says, his voice kind of gruff now though. "Here, eat." He hands me a plate with fries. I eat a couple; they are cold and gross.
"Has Tara or Sam said anything to you?" I ask him.
"About . . . ?" He motions for me to go on.
"Um . . ." I hesitate, not sure why I brought it up now. I eat another fry.
"About the looks Tara gives us whenever we are in the same room?" Dean asks. I choke on the fry. Dean chuckles and thumps me gently on the back. "I'll take that as a yes."
"Yeah, that." I say tentatively after regaining speaking ability. "So she has talked to you."
"Nah, not directly." He says. "But the looks aren't very subtle." I laugh.
"Very true." I agree. We sit in silence. I stare at the gum on the ground under the table. "So are you going to kiss me or what because that was a great lead in for such an action." I finally say, though I have no idea where such boldness came from.
"No, I'm not going to kiss you Devon." Dean says.
"Oh." I say flatly. I can feel heat creeping up my neck. Well damn. I think about what Tara said about things getting awkward before they get better and decide that this awkward was definitely not worth it since things were fine before. I stand up. "Well I'm going to go back in—"
"I'm not going to kiss you, Devon," Dean repeats, grabbing my hand and wrist, gently preventing me from leaving. "Because you are drunk. Not because I don't want to." I frown.
"So you do want to kiss me, just not right now?" I ask, confused. I don't like drinking this much, it makes it hard to think well.
"Yeah." Dean confirms.
"Oh. Okay." I say. Dean lets go of my hand, which feels cold now. I stare at him for a moment and then turn and go back inside. I feel very strange about the whole exchange and very unsure of how to take it or respond.
"Feel better?" Tara asks cheerfully.
"Yeah, much." I say, forcing a grin. She gives me a once over, looking for ruffled clothes and hair I bet. "Your shameless plan was debunked, Tara." I tell her. "Now who wants to beat me at pool? Loser cooks dinner tomorrow because I know you all will love my lasagna."
"I'll take that bet." Sam says with a laugh.
"Wow, that was not an empty boast." Sam says, leaning back from the table. "That was some really great lasagna."
"No joke, Dev." Dean adds. "That was great."
"Thanks guys." I say, standing and gather plates.
"Hey now, you cooked." Dean says, taking the plates from me. "You don't have to clean too." He gathers the rest.
"I don't mind." I try to argue.
"Hey Sam." Cody pipes in. "I found a spell about how to turn any blade into a demon-blade that can kill—" I grab the glasses and hurry after Dean into the kitchen, not wanting to have an argument about what Cody is finding in the libraries.
"I told you that you don't have to clean." Dean says as I come beside him at the sink.
"And I said I didn't mind." I grab a towel. "I'll let you wash and I'll dry, how's that?"
"Fine." He says with a smile and a sigh. "So, would you want to go get a drink sometime?"
"Yeah, last night was fun, though I think I'll drink less next time." I answer.
"No, Devon." Dean says, turning to look at me. "Like just us go get a drink." Oh. I feel my eyes widen and my hands go still on the plate I'm holding.
"But yeah, you probably shouldn't drink as much 'cause I'm still not going to kiss you if you're drunk." Dean says, a smirk lifting the corner of his mouth.
"I'm not drunk now." I hear my voice say.
"Good point." Dean says, the smirk widening. He turns to face me, taking the plate and towel from my hands and using it to dry his own. His fingers brush along my jaw as his hand wraps around behind my neck. I feel his other hand on my waist and become aware that my hands are frozen in front of me as if still holding a plate.
"Devon?" Dean says my name like a question.
"Hmm?" I hope that didn't sound as much like a whimper to him as it did to me.
"Are you sure you're not drunk right now?"
"Pretty sure."
"Because you seem to be rather slow on the processing here."
"Yeah." I blink and shake my head a bit. "Not drunk though." I flutter my hands for a moment before resting one on his chest and the other on his shoulder. I give him a small embarrassed smile. He grins. "I'm good now." I joke.
"Oh, you've been good since the moment I met you, swinging a table leg at a werewolf." I start to say something about how he tackled me right after that but am prevented by his lips on mine. Dean made me nervous from the get go and it was a combination of things: his intimidating hunter demeanor, his rough attitude towards Cody and I's presence, and not least of all the fact that I was very attracted to him and was very concerned over what getting involved with him would mean for my life and for Cody. When he kissed me though, all concern left. The only thing I was concerned about was his hands in my hair and on my back and the way his lips moved against mine.
Wait.
All those concerns are very valid and real and I can't just forget about them because Dean kisses really well.
I break the kiss and pulled back.
"Dean, wait." I say softly.
"Everything okay?" He asks just as softly.
"No." I shake my head sadly. He frowns. "I mean, nothing wrong like with your kissing or anything, that is very nice, great in fact." I look up at him. "That's the problem." His frown deepens in confusion. "I think I like you Dean." I tell him. "And that scares me because you are the life I tried so hard to keep Cody away from. And even though I can now see there really is no way to ignore hunting once you are aware of it and that Cody and I will forever have hunting in our lives, it still scares me to get too closely involved with the hunting life . . . just yet anyway." I look up into his green eyes, willing him to understand. Cody has to be my top priority and I am so worried that Dean could become a distraction from that without even having to try. Dean can be everything I long for: a friend and confidant and lover for me, a father figure and protector for Cody. I know he could keep us safe. I can see how Dean can be everything I want but I don't know that he is what we need.
"I can understand that." Dean says after a few minutes. "I have tried to leave this life many times and it just never works. Becoming part of it is no small decision. I won't push you on that and if you walk away and never look back, I won't stop you." He just looks at me for a long moment. "But if you decide to stay . . ." He lowers his lips to mine in the briefest of kisses. "I will be here for you and for Cody." I feel my throat tighten.
"Thank you Dean." I whisper. I start to pull out of his arms, but turn back and kiss him once more, quickly but firmly, before actually ending the embrace. Dean lets me go and we finish washing the dishes in silence, and then depart for bed in silence as well. As I watch him head down the hall to his room and I head to the library where Cody surely is, all I can do is hope that Dean will have the patience for me to figure this all out and that if, or perhaps when, I choose to stay, he'll still be willing to have us in his growing family.
Four months Later
"Are you coming Dean?" Cody's voice is excited, and cracks in the middle of Dean's name. I stifle a giggle, knowing from experience that puberty aged boys can be so sensitive about such things.
"Nah, I'll leave you guys to it this time." Dean says. Cody nods and runs after Sam and Tara, his BB gun held comfortably in his grip.
"I never thought I would be okay with him having such a practiced air with guns." I say with a sigh.
"It's a BB gun Dev." Dean says. "He'll be lucky to bag a large squirrel."
"I know, I know. But it starts somewhere." I argue. Dean shrugs. I settle further into the couch, pulling the blanket at my feet over me. Dean sits down beside me.
"I think it is now my job to keep you company while everyone is out." He says, grinning at me suggestively.
And just how do you plan to do that Mr. Winchester?" I ask, grinning as well. I twist my fingers loosely around the front of this plaid shirt and tug him closer.
"I'll think of something." He murmurs, his lips closing against mine. I smile into the kiss, the almost now normal feeling of contentment coming over me again. Dean and I kiss softly for a long enjoyable moment before he grips my hip in a fiercer way, letting me know he wants more. I smiled against his lips and break away to kiss down his jaw and neck as I fumble myself onto his lap, trying not to break contact with his skin. He fists a hand loosely in my hair, his other hand leaving my hip to bunch my shirt up.
If you have told me a year ago that my brother/pseudo son would be nearly a full fledged Man of Letters and out shooting at squirrels with the BB gun he was given (with my permission) for his birthday while I was back at 'home' in an underground bunker making out with my hunter boyfriend . . . I would have laughed in your face and suggested you admit yourself for a psych eval.
And yet.