Author's Note: This fic will mainly revolve around Lisa and Ben, after the memory wiping shenanigans. Will take place end of season 6, season 7ish, running parallel to those. Stuff happens (remarkably similar to beginning of the Supernatural series, as a warning), and Lisa and Ben start hunting. There will be a grand total of ten chapters, each later chapter revolving around a single hunt. I'm trying to keep the fic shortish, so a lot of time will pass within the space of a chapter.

Playlist for the chapter: Find Somebody to Love – Jefferson Airplane, Edge of Seventeen – Stevie Nicks, For Those About To Rock – AC/DC

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Burn Baby Burn

By: Lady NeverAfterNon

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Rough hands spanned her rib cage, sliding up her hot overly sensitized skin. Her head fell back, unable to support itself under the deluge of the awesome sensations occurring somewhere in the vicinity of everywhere. She couldn't help a breathless moan, which was followed by a low, male chuckle. Her heart quickened. That voice sent delicious shivers down her spine, and made her thighs tremble.

A warm, firm mouth with a hefty dose of stubble began to press slow, open mouthed kisses up her belly to follow a steady path up her sternum. Lisa very nearly whimpered. It was so, so freaking good, and not at all what she craved. What they both knew she burned for.

"Patience, Leese," the voice whispered. "I got you."

And then a pillow walloped her in the face.

Lisa Braeden's eyes snapped open and she clawed the lumpy down pillow off of her head. Blowing a chunk of hair out of her eyes, she turned to glare at the doorway where her son slouched, watching her with a rather disgusted look on his face. She threw the pillow back at him.

"Seriously, Ben?"

"Mom you were making weird noises in your sleep again. Think of the children," Ben said, not sorry at all.

Her head flopped back down. "Ugh."

Lisa scrubbed at her face. The dreams were starting to drive her nuts, and break her heart little by little. Sometimes she woke up crying with no idea why. Other times were like this, waking up cranky, hot, frustrated, and not to mention creeping out her kid when she got caught.

Ben took a running leap and belly flopped onto the king sized monster bed. Entirely too big for a single mom, or single anybody for that matter, but whatever.

"You know what, mom?" he said.

Lisa grabbed his nose and tweaked it. "What, kiddo?"

"You should make me breakfast."

"You should make ME breakfast," Lisa retorted, bonking Ben with her pillow, "Seeing as you woke me up from an amazing dream with a freaking pillow. In fact, I think it's part of the perks of being the mom, getting to issue edicts to the kid. As punishment for rude awakening by pillow, I degree that the son shall make the mother breakfast."

It was amazing how fast that simple phrase sunk in.

"Ugh, gross mom, and that's abuse of power," Ben whined, and made a quick escape downstairs.

Lisa grinned and hauled herself out of bed. A quick glance at the clock told her that she had overslept, and as such barely had time for a quick shower, let alone breakfast, before work. Lisa threw her gym clothes on and scrambled downstairs, hastily raking her hair into a sloppy pony tail. Ben, proving that he'd known all along she was late and that breakfast was out of the question, had laid out a cold pack of strawberry poptarts and a thermos of coffee for her on the kitchen island.

"Ready for school?" Lisa asked, snagging her breakfast (and lunch) and pressing a quick kiss to the top of Ben's head.

"Yeah mom."

Something in his voice stopped her. Lisa set her coffee down and tilted his chin up. Ben's eyes were uncharacteristically dark, and deep bruises sat under them that had nothing to do with school stress. She immediately dropped everything she was carrying onto the counter and pulled her kid into a hug.

"Bad dreams again?" she asked.

Instead of rolling his eyes and squirming away like a normal boy his age would have done when faced with parental affection, Ben pushed his face farther into her shoulder. Lisa held him tight and rested her chin on top of his head. It was never a good sign when a boy on the cusp of manhood wanted his mom; it meant that something was well and truly wrong.

"I couldn't breathe," Ben said finally. "Something was sitting on my lungs, holding me down. There was a shadow on the ceiling, and it-"

Lisa didn't say anything, just combed her fingers through her kid's hair. If he wanted to tell her, he would. She wasn't going to make a painful subject any harder for him.

"-It looked like you," he finished, "You were dead, and there was a bunch of people laughing. I couldn't get up, couldn't do anything."

She gave Ben a hard, fierce squeeze. "Listen to me, sweetheart, I am not dead, and I am never going to leave you. So you'd best quite thinking like that. Unfortunately, you're stuck with me. Understand?"

Ben nodded; still looking like the world was weighing his shoulders down. Lisa sympathetically pinched his nose and left a great big, juicy smooch on his forehead. That got the depressed sad look off his face. Ben wiped at his forehead furiously, trying to get the affectionate mom spit off. Lisa cackled and left, glad that she had at least made a temporary difference.

"Ew! Mooom!" followed her out the door.

Lisa drove to her first physical therapy appointment, mind still on her son. Ben had been having nightmares ever since that car accident that neither of them seemed to remember the details of. She'd been having dreams too, but they weren't sinister like her son's. They just drove her crazy. Ben however had been woken every night with nightmares that either had him screaming until she woke him, or night terrors that locked his limbs into a frozen, contorted state. The latter was nearly impossible to wake him from, and judging from the fact that she hadn't been woken by screams last night, that had been it.

Lisa went through her day halfheartedly, meeting each of her appointments, mind completely on her son.

For a few months now Ben had been seeing a psychiatrist to try and help with the nightmares, and so far it didn't seem to be working. The nightmares hit him every night, and now the shrink had started to push her into agreeing to put her son on hard drugs. Lisa didn't want to do that to her kid, but she also didn't want Ben to suffer.

She made good money as a physical therapist for the hospital, but between the mortgages on the house, bills, and Ben's psychiatrist she was hard pressed to make ends meet. Maybe she could pick up some extra hours if she asked nicely. Lisa did the booking for her department on the side in order to bring in a little extra money, but if Ben ended up needing a prescription she was going to have to look hard at her options. Without insurance this was going to be a tight squeeze..

She made her last stop of the day outside the public library, barely thinking about work.

Her last patient was a cantankerous retired veteran with several pins in one knee courtesy of shrapnel from some sort of roadside bomb. Lisa checked her watch. They were supposed to meet at the woman's home, but June Masterson often worked late, citing work, but they both knew the uncomfortable pressing quiet of a dark house.

As she climbed the concrete steps, damp from a light earlier rain, her phone vibrated.

She glanced at the screen and immediately had to talk herself out of pushing 'ignore'. Logan was a nice enough guy, a high end divorce lawyer, and he made it no secret that he was interested in her.

Lisa had run into him in the hospital a few months ago. He had come in with one of his clients: a woman that had gotten smacked around a time too many by her asshole husband. He was good looking, and nice enough, but-…she let the phone continue to ring. There was just no spark. She looked at Logan, and then nothing. No butterflies, no chemistry. Zip, nada, zilch.

Lisa stuffed her phone into her purse and shoved her cold hands in her pockets. She'd finish up with June and get home to Ben. They'd make cookies or something, and go to the park and chuck the baseball around after. Ben was usually a mess after he met with his psychiatrist. The sessions seemed to hurt more than they helped, which frustrated her.

Lisa felt like an ass for sending her son to a shrink, but she felt like she didn't have any other options. It was wrecking him; he was a shadow of his former self. The nightmares were tearing him to pieces, and Ben didn't want to talk to her about his nightmares, and she didn't know any other way she could help.

She would to anything for her son, anything to see him safe and well. Whatever it took, she'd see it done if it killed her.

The library was a controlled hub of chaos, warm and vibrant, a stark contrast compared to the silent cold autumn street outside.

June was a tall Native American woman in her mid thirties with long black hair and an unholy love of witty internet t-shirts. Her t-shirt of the day showed a T-Rex attempting to open a door, and a Velociraptor pointing and laughing. Lisa had been her physical therapist for about a year, and she had yet to figure out what tribe June belonged to- not knowing how to ask.

June, attempting to herd a group of rowdy middle school children amped up on their newly acquired Hunger Games booty out the door to their bus, looked up and saw her.

"You're late," she muttered, sinking into her chair with a groan.

"And you're supposed to be home after a half shift, instead of working an entire day," Lisa said cheerfully, "Doctors orders I believe, but look where we are."

"Whatever. Do your thing, " June said, pointing at her left knee.

"What? Here? Your office has more privacy."

June rolled her eyes. "I fought and got blown up for these people. They can stand to look at my gnarly knee for a minute or two."

"If you say so. Roll up your pant leg," Lisa said, squatting.

June rolled up her jeans, wincing. "Hurts worse than I thought it did."

Lisa gently prodded the inflamed, tender skin around June's knee. "You really, really shouldn't be putting so much stress on this. You're doing more damage than is good. The whole knee is swollen and you're just going to end up aggravating it. We'll have to modify your stretches. If you stay off it tonight completely it'll stiffen up and be useless in the morning, and you'll end up hurting yourself."

June sighed and flopped back in her chair, massaging her temples. "Ugh. Just what I wanted tonight, sitting on my ass doing stupid stretches."

Lisa grinned. "If you did the work load you were supposed to, we wouldn't be having this conversation. You're in luck though, there's a Stargate SG-1 marathon on tonight so at least you'll be entertained."

"Pffft. Stop coddling me. Can't talk about what I did for the military, but I can tell you about basic and lemme tell you, they don't even know what the word coddling means. My DI got me when I asked him about meet up times. He said 'You think I'm your momma? This isn't summer camp! I can make it summer camp. Ok, EVERYONE HOLD HANDS, NOW!' We all hold hands ... 'NOW SING!' Well, in boot camp you do what you're told. Without skipping a beat we all started singing Kumbaya My Lord and swaying in unison, smiling like sin."

"Wow. Really?"

"Yep. Another of my instructors made me make out with a dummy when I didn't bayonet it right during a drill."

Lisa choked, and drew up a chair. There was a coffee maker on the desk, and she stole a clean mug. Library coffee was a close cousin of jet fuel and acid, but at least it was hot and warm.

June pantomimed her DI. "What's wrong cadet! You call that a strike? You might as well show it a good time cause you ain't doing nothing else. KISS THE DUMMY." June shook her head fondly. "Ah, Sergeant Vasquez, that man was a treasure. I made out with that dummy for five freaking minutes before he'd let me continue. Half my platoon watching the damn display."

Lisa stared into her coffee and thought of Logan and the missed calls on her phone, and the dreams of a strange, oddly familiar man that wouldn't let her go. "I dunno," she muttered, "I'd almost rather have the dummy."

"You should at least go on a date with Logan," June said, rightly guessing the cause of the dilemma, "At least then you'll be able to put a reason as to why you don't want him."

"You're right," Lisa said, standing, "I'll just suck it up and do it."

"Atta girl," June told her.

"You know you make me feel like a sap," Lisa muttered, "Here I am moaning about a few problems, and you've got, well, you."

"What? A military career that I can't talk about, no friends, and a shattered knee? Believe me sister, I'm not the one on top here," June said quietly.

"I wouldn't say no friends," Lisa said, "I think we vaulted over that doctor patient line a long time ago. We're friends. You're giving me advice on my love life for chrissake."

"Well, good luck with that. How's your kid doing?"

Lisa shrugged on her coat. "Rough. He's still having nightmares. Every night they wake him up. He goes from zero to sixty, sometimes he wakes up and has no idea where he is. I stayed with him a few nights ago, and his eyes just shot open and he was out of bed and across the room before I could say anything. Nearly hit the wall."

June made sympathetic noises.

"I was thinking we'd make dinner and then go to the park and throw the baseball around. We haven't done that in a while," Lisa said.

"Family time," June said nodding,"Sometimes just being with someone is the only medicine a body needs. Believe me, I know. Ben may not want to admit it, but he's still a kid, and kids need their parents when things go wrong something fierce."

"Well, I'm out of here then," Lisa said, "Thanks for the coffee."

"Don't mention it. Have a good one."

Lisa opened the library door. "And do your stretches!"

June waved her out the door and Lisa left.

The drive home was a quick one. No one was out on the roads and her subdivision was quiet; all the families were home eating dinner.

Lisa hurried up their front walk, briefly glowering at the peeling paint on the trim. More bills, more things to get done that they didn't have the money for.

Ben opened the door before she could get her key in the door. With him came the smell of macaroni and cheese, and garlic toast.

"Hey kiddo. How was school?" she whispered, hugging him before he could get away.

"Bleh. Same old boring crap. I slept through most of it."

"I never thought I'd say this, but good," Lisa said, "I'm glad you got some sleep. Now what did you make me for dinner?"

"Hah! I made dinner for me, not you. Extra cheesy mac an' cheese, and garlic bread with extra garlic. I'm gonna eat it all," Ben said, laughing, as he started for the kitchen.

"You know what another perk of being the mom is?" Lisa asked, putting Ben into a headlock, "having longer arms!"

Ben shrieked and tried to get free, and his mom hauled him to the kitchen. Ben laughed and tried to tickle her but Lisa used her position to give him a good noogie.

She released him to get bowls from the cupboard. Dinner was quiet, both opting to eat on the couch in front of the TV for the Stargate marathon. Ben sat curled up against her, rather than perching on the floor or flopped out over the arm of the couch. Ever since the car accident that neither of them could really remember clearly they'd been closer, but now with the nightmares Ben seemed to need that reassurance more. She kissed the top of his head, and set her empty bowl next to her.

Absentmindedly she ran her hand over the creased leather of the couch. The spot next to her was indented and worn, like someone had sat there hundreds of times. She closed her eyes. She could almost see him: broad shoulders, thick, short brown hair, no face. She squeezed her eyes tighter, trying to think.

'Why can't I see your face?'

They gave up halfway through the marathon, Ben reluctantly trudging upstairs for bed and Lisa watching, knowing that the nightmares were going to come and that there was nothing she could do to stop it.

Lisa followed him upstairs, trying not to hover as he got ready for bed. She pulled on a tank top and sweats, and wondered for the umpteenth time why the hell she actually owned lingerie in the first place. It wasn't like anyone was around to see it.

Ben had gotten into bed. He fumbled with his sheets, punched his pillow, did anything but actually lay down.

Lisa knocked on his door. "Hey kiddo, want some company tonight?"

He shook his head and took a deep breath. "No, but thanks mom."

Lisa walked to him and pulled him into a fierce, hard hug. "I love you, sweetheart. Whatever happens I love you. We'll figure this out, I promise. It'll be okay."

Ben nodded and Lisa kissed his hair.

"Goodnight," she whispered, shutting off the light.

Neither of them believed it.

.x.

Lisa was dreaming again. She knew she was dreaming, because this day had already happened.

She was standing at the kitchen window, overlooking the driveway, hands buried elbow deep in soapy dishwater. She remembered what day it was perfectly: she was cranky because one of her patients was refusing treatment, and the city had decided to raise the taxes in their district, which meant money was going to be tight again.

Snow was falling in heavy, feathery flakes. A quick glance at the temperature gauge attached to the porch rail informed her that it was a mean twenty two degrees Fahrenheit outside.

A man in a heavy green flannel jacket was crouched by her car, changing her tires. As she watched, dishwater growing cold, he jacked up the side of the car, loosened the lug nuts and swapped out her last summer tire for her studded winter ones. Then he lowered the car and stood, staring at it, shoulders hunched. His back shook, almost like he was crying.

Lisa immediately dried her hands and walked outside. She didn't know what to do, or say. She didn't know this mysterious, tire changing gentleman who cried in falling snow, but he was so damn familiar and dear that her heart squeezed into a little ball. It hurt her that he was hurting, and somehow she wanted to fix it if she could.

She came to stand at his shoulder, and they stood side by side in the falling snow and growing dusk. The porch light illuminated the driveway with a soft glow, the snowflakes the light hit glittered like fireflies.

"Thanks for changing my tires," she whispered, "Saved me fifty bucks at the Chevy Dealership."

He chuckled and swiped his arm across his eyes. "Whoever charges a lady fifty bucks for a tire change needs to be shot."

She smiled and wiped a bit of snow out of his hair. His expression turned haunted and sad. "I'm so sorry, Leese. I'm sorry that I-"

She cut him off, thumb pressed against his deliciously firm mouth, stubble tickling her hand. It killed her that she still didn't know him. She wanted to know him so very badly, wanted to help him.

"Shh, baby. Do me a favor?" Lisa whispered.

He looked confused. "Wha-?"

She pushed gently at his shoulders, guiding him back about ten feet. "Stand here. Don't move."

He looked adorably perplexed, no doubt wondering what the hell she was up to. Well he would soon find out. Lisa bent over and began scooping snow up into a ball, using the heat of her hands to get it to form fight. When she looked up he was watching her with a small smile tugging at his mouth.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said nonchalantly, adding more snow to her growing snowball, "Please continue. What were you about to say?"

"I meant-" he was distracted, watching her reddening hands casually pack more snow together, "I was gonna say I'm sorry to be such a burden to you and Ben. I know it can't be easy living with me, running hot and cold on you all the time. I'm so sorry Leese."

"Okay," she said, and lobbed the massive snowball at his head.

He moved out of the way and it went sailing over his shoulder. "You threw a snowball at me!"

"You knew what I was making."

"I didn't think you'd actually throw it!"

She put her hands on her hips. "You weren't supposed to dodge!"

"What and just let you hit me?"

Lisa bent and scooped up more snow. "Yep!"

He suddenly grinned at her and his smile lit up his whole face. His green eyes sparkled and little laugh lines crinkled at the corner of his eyes. He was gorgeous when he smiled, she decided. She would do her best to make him smile more often.

Lisa shrieked and dodged his answering salvo. His snowball hit her car with a heavy whap. It was on after that.

Both of them dodged around her car, lobbing snowballs and laughing. He got her more often than she got him, but neither of them was really keeping score. Finally he swept her up in a great bear hug, forcing her to drop all of her snow. Lisa didn't mind. It was nice and warm in his arms. She stuck her nose in his collar. He smelled like laundry detergent, leather, gun oil, and engine grease.

It was a pleasant scent, and made her toes curl. She curled her cold hands under his jacket and shirt to rest against the hot skin of his abs.

"Geez woman, your hands are freezing!"

He let her keep them there, though. Lisa smiled sadly and cupped his cheek. "Why can't I remember you? Who are you?" she asked softly.

She knew that when she woke up she would have only fragments of the dream, and she would not remember his face or those gorgeous green eyes.

Dammit.

.x.

Ben tossed fitfully in his room. He was deep in sleep, the sheet pulled up over his head like a shield. A shadow curled in through the window to billow up to the ceiling like black smoke. The smoke twisted and turned like a many faceted snake, then it broke off into multiple trails to pool at the foot of Ben's bed.

The smoke trails circled Ben's bed, whispering together.

"Soon."

"Soon."

"Yes, soon."

.x.

To be continued...