She wasn't a hunter. The supernatural gave her nightmares that sent her screaming to turn on the lights. She couldn't even hold a gun correctly.
Dean sighed as he shuffled the newly turned dirt with his dress shoes. He shoved his hands inside his pockets as an empty smile found its way onto his lips.
"Dean, c'mon, we're gonna be late for the party!" The growing giddiness in her voice gave it an extra sweet twang to Natalie's southern drawl as she drug her lover along. Dean had just gotten back from a hunt when a friend of her decided to throw a house party: not something he was looking forward to. He rolled his eyes. "Woman, you are savagely murdering my arm!"
Natalie stopped short, turning Dean's arm loose enough for him to yank it away. A flicker of disappointment flooded her features before she shook it off and winked, "Well, we absolutely cannot miss the first dance."
Dean glanced at the grave marker. The cold headstone stared back mockingly. You didn't do enough. How do you expect to protect Sammy, if you could protect her?
He brought his hand up to his face and held it there to shield himself from the marble's harsh truths. The framed picture stared on, brown eyes watching kindly.
Large brown eyes got bigger as the waitress served the couple their burgers. She muttered her thanks and began to dig in. Dean observed as she took her first bite. He watched her face as the tastes registered in her mouth. A satisfied warble escaped her mouth and she set her burger down to start on her fries. Dean grinned, "Watch out there, Nat, you'll start putting on the pounds." He took a bite of burger, knowing full and well that she hated mentioning her weight, and a balled up napkin was hurled at his face.
"Okay," Dean chuckled, "I give." He expected a witty retort, but he was greeted by silence. A woman was sitting alone in a booth—it looked like she was waiting for someone. Natalie watched the lonely woman and Dean was about to get her attention but a man dashed by their table carrying a colorful bouquet of flowers.
"I'm sorry I'm late," The man said and brandished the bouquet, "I got these for you." The woman squealed in delight and smelled the flowers. Dean glanced over at Natalie. She wore a wistful smile as she watched the couple.
"I finally got you some," Dean motioned towards the white lilies he had previously laid on the grave. "I guess I'm a little late though, huh?" Silence answered his question with open arms. A bird chirped in the distance and the sun began to peek out from behind what little clouds were in the sky. The sunshine seemed out of place on that day.
Sunrays played peek-a-boo through the old magnolia trees that lined Natalie's driveway. The Impala took the gravel road's bumps and holes like a melon would take a bat, but Dean kept on driving. Sam urged him to just park, insisting that they could just walk the rest of the way, but his brother wasn't having any of it. Slowly, but surely an old, white plantation house was staring them down. A plump girl stood up on the porch steps upon seeing the black car. Dean shut off the engine and opened his door quickly to get out.
"Dean!" Natalie smiled happily and floated down the steps. Dean scoops the woman up in his arms and kissed her in quick flourishes. She giggled and Sam cleared his throat as he shut his car door. "Oh, Sam!" Natalie crawled out of Dean's arms and embraced the younger brother.
"I haven't seen you guys in forever." She gushed, already moving to the porch to pour the brothers some tea.
"Oh," Sam said awkwardly, "We won't be staying long." Natalie set the glasses down and her round face lost its glow.
"Oh."
"I'll admit," Dean got a lump in his throat and his eyes stung with tears unshed, "That it was a hell of a time whenever you were around." He rubbed the back of his neck and coughs. "Although I didn't get to see you a lot." He thought back to all of the things he did with Natalie, or rather, all of the things he didn't do with Natalie. He didn't do all of the things he had done with numerous girls before and, somewhere in the middle, he fell in love.
Natalie walked along the gravelly path she called a driveway with Dean in tow. She blabbed on and on about everything and nothing: the sky, Dean's jacket, Sam, food, and even cats. She reached out to grab his hand and he pulled it away.
"What's wrong, Dean?" Natalie asked, hoping that it wasn't something that she had done. Dean quickly realized his mistake when he saw the hurt in her eyes and he coughed awkwardly.
"I'm…I'm not a hand-holder." He explained.
She never did try to hold his hand again.
Dean began to openly weep, making sounds he hadn't made in a very long time. The hot tears felt foreign on his face and he swatted at them as fast as they could come. "I should have—," His hand slid down his face. Despite his views on hand-holding, Dean longed to grasp someone's hand as if it was the last thing connecting him to this earth if it would remove the horrible pain within.
Natalie was the light at the end of a long, winding tunnel filled with monsters and different levels of crazy. Her personality was nothing short of pleasant; she greeted everyone with the same warm smile she directed at Dean. She truly hated seeing anyone unhappy, and, much to Dean's realization, she wouldn't have wanted anyone to blame themselves for what happened.
Dean let out a hoarse chuckle, despite himself, "You probably think I'm a sap." A cool breeze rustled the leaves of a nearby tree as if in response, "But…" He paused in thought.
According to Cas, there was such thing as Heaven, and Natalie sure as hell belonged there. Knowing this, she's probably up there having the time of her spirit life. Dean sighed again, but a small smile played at his features and he wiped the last of the drying tears away.
"Hey Cas," Dean called. "Make sure you take good care of her." He wiped his face again. "She loved to dance, so take her to one of those angel parties." Said Dean, and as an afterthought he added, "They have those up there, don't they?"
"Her favorite color is orange; she's an Aquarius." Dean laughed and played with his suit jacket, looking down at the grave, and then back up at the sky in fear that he might start crying again. "She…um…I…"
"Just, take better care of her than I did, Cas." He finished with one last glance at Natalie's smiling face, and for the first time in weeks, Dean was at peace.
Dean slipped into the impala, tossing his suit jacket into the backseat. He revved the engine a couple times and Sam looked at him.
"You gonna be okay?" He asked, his eyes full of worry.
"Yeah," Dean replied as they backed out of the cemetery, "she's in good hands."
Author's note: This was originally a challenge from Aizensmydaddy, and I guess I decided to do it a bit late, but oh well. I hope you liked it, even if it sucks. Drop a review by and tell me what you think.