Author Note: This is dedicated to Inferification over on AO3, whose constant love for Priya and support for this fic in general has been invaluable.
A huge thank you to my beta, mb64, I've no idea how she puts up with my typos and ramblings. All mistakes are mine (because I genuinely believe mb64 is incapable of making mistakes).
This can be read with either ending to Tabula Rasa, though I guess some bits are more poignant if you read the epilogue. I'm sorry for the lack of sex, I really can't write smut. But if anyone else wants to write it, please feel free to do so! There is also a tiny bit of computing jargon in this, please tell me if it's horrifically wrong, I know next to nothing about programming.
Because Tabula Rasa is set in the present day but with a young Sam and Dean, I've had to shift the timeline along a fair bit. Hence, these scenes are dated in the future, but I've not included any futuristic technology. As a guide, Dean was born on 25th January 1997, Sam 2nd May 2001, and Priya 28th August 1997.
Trigger Warnings: Flashbacks to child abuse and rape. PTSD. There is also an instance of averted dub-con.
October 2019
Dean didn't get why he had to be dragged along for this.
"I don't get why I have to be dragged along for this."
Priya rolled her eyes. "It's like walking around with a five year old, it really is."
Dean picked up a cushion, read the label, and prodded it twice. Seeming satisfied that it indeed would provide excellent lumbar support and was stuffed with cotton rather than the more exotic alternatives he could come up with, he put it down.
"Shopping's not really my thing..." he started again, running his hands over an MDF cabinet. "Don't take this one, there are enough design flaws here to make my professors cry."
"You know we're not here for cupboards, quit touching 'em and come help me here," she said.
Priya tugged at his arm until he stopped his mental criticism of the ergonomics of the piece-of-shit furniture and went over to stare at cups. Cups. And plates. And cutlery.
"God, what did I do to deserve this?"
Priya swatted his arm. "Hey, if I have to suffer, you have to suffer."
"I thought getting your own place was supposed to be exciting," said Dean. He ran his eyes along the rows of mugs, searching for anything that didn't look like it was going to cut a hole in Bookworm's wallet. "Not boring as all hell."
"How do these ones look?" she asked, holding up a couple of plates that looked exactly the same as the last plates she'd shown him.
"They look exactly the same as the last plates you showed me." Dean deadpanned.
Priya pursed her lips. "You're an utter pain in the ass, you know that?"
"I've been told it's one of my better qualities," Dean said with a grin.
She sighed and went back to comparing saucers. While living off paper plates and plastic cutlery had sufficed while she was at university, now she had her own place and her mother was coming to visit, apparently there was a need to buy 'proper tableware'.
Dean blew a raspberry as he picked up a small teacup and imagined Sam's Gigantor hands wrapped around it. He could see it now, the kid's fingers probably lapping themselves on the way round, his polite grimace as he tried to sip tea from it.
Dean was peering over the rim when he saw him.
His jaw clenched and his hands tightened around the china.
They're all in jail. They're all gone.
But there was the limp. That fucking limp that made the stairs creak as one foot fell more heavily than the other, warning Dean he was back. That fucking limp and that fucking stoop and oh God it was him. It had to be him.
The man's silent on the drive to the cottage in the deserted countryside. It's pretty. Maybe even quaint. (Dean's not really sure of what falls under quaint and what doesn't, but his English teacher always seems to use it whenever something looks old and cosy. Screw her, he does sometimes pay attention in lessons.) There's ivy climbing up the walls and flowers hanging in baskets next to the door.
Too bad Dean knows what's going to happen here.
"You gonna be good for me, Deano?" the man asks, applying the parking brake and killing the engine. His voice is eerily soft. It suits the cloying smell of decay that seems to hang off him like ill-fitting clothes.
Talking of ill-fitting clothes, Dean tugs at the sleeves of his outgrown shirt and wonders how long he can get away with silence. He nods and picks at the frayed fibres.
Suddenly, the man's face is inches away from his own, the nauseating smell of dead meat washing over Dean with every breath the client takes. He's wearing that lecherous smirk that never quite goes away. Just looking at it makes Dean's insides turn. "We're not gonna get on if you don't talk to me, boy."
Something flickers in those dead eyes. Something dark and primal and vicious. Dean swallows thickly and draws in a breath through his mouth. Even this can't keep away the stench of rotting flesh. "Yessir."
"Good."
"...Do you think Mum'll like it? I know she's fond of pastel colours but I'm not so sure this one will be to her taste."
Dean blinked and looked at Priya, who was holding up a vase. "Dean?"
"Uh, yeah, yeah. It's great."
Priya huffed. "You've not listened to a word I've said, have you?"
Dean looked down at his shaking hands and then back up at her. "Wh-what? Can we just go back to your place now?"
"C'mon, just one set of utensils and a few more glasses and I'm done," she said, moving along a shelf and expertly locating the cheaper stainless steel cutlery amongst the overpriced silverware.
Dean glanced around the shop and caught sight of the limping man again.
The cereal has gone soggy. It's some generic brand of cornflakes the man's bought for Dean's week here and it tastes a bit like cardboard. Not that that matters. On a normal day Dean would be shovelling it down his gullet before anyone could take it away. But today he just feels sick. His stomach's coiled up in a knot and just looking at the food brings bile up to his mouth.
Dean stirs the contents of the bowl once again before swallowing down a mouthful. There's the sound of uneven footsteps behind him, but they're not really necessary. The stench is more than enough. Dean holds his breath, willing the fucker to give him just ten minutes alone. He's had him for five days now, you'd think he'd grow bored at some point.
A second later, the client's head is next to his own."I wonder if your mum was as good in bed as you are," the man's words ghost over his ear. And arm curls possessively around his thin torso. "I bet she was. I bet she was real good."
Dean's eyes prickle with tears that have nothing to do with the crushing pressure on his ribs or the insistent ache in his belly.
"She left you, didn't she?" he whispers, then licks a stripe behind his ear. "She left you, and your daddy left you too. He doesn't care what I do to you over this week."
His fingers graze along his arms and Dean has to fight down a shudder.
"Hell, even I could just leave you out here, in the middle of nowhere, and no one would even notice you were gone." His tongue darts out again. "You just think about that."
The man walks away, but Dean finds he still doesn't have it in himself to breathe.
He couldn't breathe.
Dean tried to suck air in through his teeth but all he could think of was the client's cruel smirk and that calm, soft voice in his ear.
'They'll all leave you some day.'
"Shut up," whispered Dean, finally managing to draw some air into his lungs.
"What?" Priya looked up from the can opener she was holding.
"No-nothing," said Dean, trying to steady his hands. "We've gotta get out of here. We've gotta go before he-"
'You think she'll stay? You think she'll want to be with you after she finds out how you screamed for me? You really think there's something worth loving in you?'
"Who? What are you on about?" Priya followed Dean's gaze before he had a chance to avert it.
'She's gonna see me and she's gonna talk to me and I'm gonna tell her about all the little games we played. You think she's gonna hang around for much longer after that?'
Dean brought his hands to his face, trying to block out the voice, the image of that fucking grin.
The cup shattered on the ground.
Dean was vaguely aware of people turning to look and Priya's embarrassed apologies to the floor staff that were coming over to investigate. His eyes were focussed on that back, watching as it coiled round to reveal the man's leery smirk.
There wasn't one.
The man was someone else. Younger, for a start. He had a wider nose and tiny eyes, his arms were cradling a baby.
Dean took a step back and knocked over a photo frame. A couple more shoppers turned to stare.
He had to get out of there. Locating the sign for the changing rooms, he headed over and closed the doors to one of the cubicles.
'One day, they'll all leave you. They always do.'
The glass was cool against his cheek as he leaned against the mirror and let his breathing steady.
There was a knock on the cubicle door.
"Dean? You in there?" asked Priya.
Dean slid back the lock in shame. "Look, I'm sorry about all that."
"Don't worry about it. It was a shit cup anyway, too small." She tried for a grin but worry permeated through her voice. "Are you okay?"
Dean sat back down on the bench. "'M fine," he croaked.
Priya pouted in mock seriousness and nodded. "Yeah, breaking cups and knocking over photo frames is clearly you being fine."
"It was nothing. I jus-" Dean wrung his hands before clamping them into fists. "Just thought I recognised someone but it wasn't them."
"Okay," she said, resting a hand on his shoulder.
"I get it, if you're too embarrassed to be seen with me-" Dean's throat constricted. He paused to clear it and then continued, "You can just leave, y'know?"
The bench creaked as Priya sat down next to him. "I'm not embarrassed to be seen with you, and I'm not leaving you either."
He turned his head to look at her. "You're not?"
"No, Dean. You can't get rid of me that easily."
And for some crazy reason Dean didn't want to question, he found he believed her.
He took a deep breath and stood up. "Should we go back and pick up those plates and cups and whatever?"
"Sure. Whenever you're ready."
He opened the cubicle door and stepped out. The shop was emptying out as closing time approached. The man with the limp was paying for a vase and a bunch of fake flowers as his wife held the baby.
'They'll always leave you.'
Fuck you, she won't.
November 2023
"No, Dean. We're not calling our kid Wolverine or Black Widow."
"But why not?" Dean said in a calm and sensible voice that definitely wasn't a whine.
"Because I'm not having our kid being bullied in school because someone let you loose in the comic store again." Priya sighed.
"But think about it! Wolverine Winchester sounds amazing. So does Black Widow Winchester."
Sam looked up from the other end of the picnic blanket. "I feel sorry for this kid already."
"Yeah, so do I, they're gonna have a Sasquatch for an uncle," said Dean, resting a hand on the baby bump. "Still, it'll be good for the piggyback rides."
Sam snorted. "Like Hell I'm giving your kid piggyback rides, Dean. They'll probably try and put Nair in my hair like you did."
Priya turned to shoot a glare at Dean that didn't quite hide her amusement, while he shamelessly grinned at his best prank yet. "Serves you right for the fake dog shit in the Impala. That was not funny."
"Yeah, and getting called 'baldy' for a week was?"
"It was kinda funny," Jess dropped in quietly from the side.
Sam rolled his eyes. "Oh God, not you too."
"What?" she shrugged. "I've never seen you buy so many hats in one week. It was pretty funny."
Sam huffed, and with murmurs of "typical, just typical", he walked off to join Mum and Dad on their blanket. Jess got up to follow him, a placating hand on his arm.
Priya picked up her third sandwich from the picnic basket, folded it in half, and rammed most of it in her mouth in one go. "Wha'?" she spluttered around the bolus of bread and jam. "'M hungry." She swallowed and licked her lips. "You try being pregnant."
"I don't remember you being any different when you weren't pregnant."
He leaned in and brushed his lips over her cheek. Her skin was cold from being outside for so long.
Sam wandered back over, Jess in tow. "Mum and Dad thought it was a little funny too, so I'm not sitting over there either."
"Told you, Sammy. I'm freakin' hilarious." Dean said with a smirk, earning a whack on his arm from Priya.
He watched as the Big Friendly Giant flopped onto the blanket and grabbed one of the salad boxes Mum had packed, while Jess picked up a chicken skewer and sat down beside him. The smirk softened.
"How do you pick out rings, man? There's so many."
"Think of what she likes and just don't cheap out on her, lawyer boy. You'll be fine."
There's a rustle on the other end of the phone before Sam's back again. "There's one that's about eight millimetres, it looks kinda big. Do you think that's what she'll want?"
"Whoa, you want to marry her, not blind her. Besides, do you like it?"
A beat, then, "No. Not really. It looks kinda tacky."
"There you go, genius. Go find something that's not gonna leave you bankrupt."
"'Kay."
Neither of them hang up. Dean tilts his head and holds the phone against his shoulder as he stirs the scrambled eggs and turns off the heat. The sounds of cursing drift in through the open window as Priya rants at their second-hand lawnmower once again.
Dean's scraping the eggs onto two plates when Sam's voice comes through the phone once again.
"You still there?"
"Yeah," he says, trying to manoeuvre his right hand as the phone threatens to slide off his shoulder.
"There's none here I really like and Jess has just asked me to pick up a carton of milk. I told her I was going grocery shopping so I'm going to have to go pick up a pint before I go back. I'll talk to you later."
"You're hopeless," says Dean, cancelling the call.
The sun started its slow descent towards the horizon.
He turned to Priya and said, "I feel bad agreeing to go to that plant when everyone's here. Should I cancel?"
"No, you said you'd do it. Besides, all I've heard about for the last four months has been about this damn engine. Aren't you even a little curious about what it looks like when it's being put together?"
Dean sighed. "'Course I'm curious. I really want to see what they've made of my design. But everyone's here and I feel I shouldn't leave and-"
"And nothing. You just get it done and get back to us quickly. We'll be fine for a day, we'll barely even miss you," she said with a wink.
"Glad the feeling's mutual," Dean quipped back.
"God, I'm hungry again," Priya groaned, shuffling over to the basket and pulling out a sausage roll. "You want anything?"
Dean leaned back on his hands and watched as the edge of the sun kissed the horizon. His parents' laughter drifted over from behind him as Jess finished her anecdote about Sam's attempts to hoard peanut butter and bananas at university.
"Nah, I've got everything I need."
June 2022
This was bullshit. Here he was, on the first night of his honeymoon, with the girl he'd spent far too much time at college self-lovin' over, and all he could feel was a tight knot at the base of his stomach every time he even thought about fucking.
You're too damn young for Viagra but seriously, if that's what it takes...
Dean entered the hotel room and held the door open for Priya.
"Thanks," she said, taking the key card from his hand and inserting it into its slot on the hotel wall. Dean watched as she moved off, admiring the way her hair cascaded over her shoulders as she released it from the clip she'd put in earlier that day.
God, everything about her made him wonder how he could have got this lucky.
Dean let the door swing shut behind him as he strode over and placed a hand at the small of her back, causing her to spin round and curl her hands into fists, an instinctive attack ready in her eyes until she recognised the attacker. The aggression and panic faded into something eternally softer.
"God, Priya..." Dean pulled his arm a little closer to himself, taking in a slow breath, storing away the smell of peach shampoo and the warmth of her skin under his hand. "I love you."
"You know," she bit her lip to hold back a smile, "I reckon that'll really help with this whole 'being married' thing we have going on." Priya rested her arms lazily around his neck while her gaze darted between his eyes and his lips. Dean met her gaze and saw the question swimming in her dilated pupils: May I?
Dean blinked in acquiescence and leaned in as their lips met. He felt her tongue sneak tentatively into his mouth, only proceeding further when he opened up and met hers with his own. Priya's hands slid off his neck and rested on his collarbone, before hovering over the top button of his plaid shirt.
She broke the kiss and looked up at him. "Should I?" she whispered.
Dean bit back a groan and fumbled for the zip at the back of her dress. "Fuck, yes," he replied, letting deep, dark desire flow through him, tamping down on the panic fluttering in his stomach.
Just once. Just do it once and you'll be fine.
Dean nodded to himself and closed his eyes as he felt the buttons come undone.
He steps into the bedroom to find the man's already taken off his shirt. His skin is dry and sallow, he's easily old enough to be Dean's grandfather.
"Come here, let me have a good look at you," his voice is like his skin, wrinkled and flaky.
Dean wants to respond with a joke about how he's gonna need to get his monocle out to get a good look at him, but he's been in the job long enough to know you don't get anywhere by pissing off your clients. Still, the quip is sitting on the tip of his tongue when the man throws his arm out and pulls him up by the collar of his shirt.
Dean swallows and tries to stop the trembling. The joke's suddenly nowhere to be seen.
The hands moved down his shirt until the last button was done. Dean complied and shrugged it off his shoulders as the hands came back and rested on his chest. Priya's lips met his own, soft and gentle, and he pushed back against her.
"Let's see what's under all these clothes, shall we?"
The man's face is inches away from his own. Dean can smell motor oil and Dettol soap and the slightest hint of Werther's Originals. It makes him want to cry. This man is everything the kids at school talk about when they relay stories of their granddads. Except no granddad's ever looked at their grandson with quite so much lust.
The shirt slips over his head easily, leaving in its wake a thin, emaciated body. The gash from his father's latest drunken attack with a broken bottle hasn't quite healed yet, but the marring doesn't seem to bother the man. His fingers hover over it before prodding it. A crinkled smile appears at Dean's wince.
The hands continue their journey downwards, the dry skin scraping against his lower abdomen as the man unbuttons his trousers and pulls down the zipper.
Priya's hands drifted down to his belt. She broke the kiss and looked down as she unbuckled it and pulled it out of the loops. Tossing it aside, her hands returned to unzip his fly.
Dean froze, his hand halfway down her back, the zip long forgotten.
The trousers are lazily thrown on top of his shirt. Dean stills as the old man slides his hand into his worn-out briefs and cops a feel.
Dean doesn't know the existence of any emotion but shame.
"What's wrong?"
He could hear the words, he knew the voice, knew it like the back of his hand. But he couldn't put them together. All he could think about was the blood pumping through his ears, obnoxiously loud, and cold, sallow skin against his own.
"Jesus! Dean, are you okay?" The voice sounded panicked and the hands moved from his jeans to his shoulders. Dean let out a breath he hadn't even known he'd been holding.
Oh God, this is not happening. A performer shouldn't be having performance issues. That's just fucking stupid.
"'M fine," he said gruffly, shuddering a little.
Priya looked up at him and frowned. "We don't have to carry on."
"I said yes to this, I've got to," Dean mumbled, hating how much the thought scared him. It wasn't her, not by any means. Hell, he'd been waiting for this day for a very long time. It had been Priya's wish to wait until they were married, and Dean wasn't going to argue the point when it meant something to her. And he did want to. Mostly, anyway.
"That means jack squat, Dean. You're allowed to change your mind."
"No, no, I'm okay with this," he said, scrunching up his eyes and preparing for the wave of terror that would hit the moment Priya's hand touched his crotch.
Nothing happened.
He slowly opened one eye and peered at the sad smile on his wife's face. "I thought you were gonna carry on?"
"No, Dean. You look like someone's about to put down your favourite pet. I'm not carrying on when you clearly don't want it." Her hands went back down to his jeans, making his heart jump to his throat until it became clear she was simply buttoning him up again. "Here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna get out the rest of the doughnuts we bought a couple of days ago, and we're going to work our way through those while we watch a film. We can save everything else for later."
Relief swept through Dean. He nodded as his hand slid Priya's zip back up and he went over to the carrier bags containing the doughnuts. Crouching over the borderline stale confectionery, Dean tried to steady his breathing as he thought about the future.
What if you never manage to get over this?
In the end, he need not have worried. Two months later, Dean found himself lying spent next to Priya, breathing in the hot, damp air, heavy with the scent of sweat and sex. He watched the steady rise and fall of her back as she snored lightly, wondering how anyone could ever think fucking and making love were the same thing.
August 2019
Dean surfaced and paddled lazily in the lake, soaking up the sun. A hundred yards to his left, Sam and Priya were competing to see who could complete the most lengths in an hour. The younger Winchester had already lapped Priya, winning pretty much solely on the basis of longer limbs. When the stood next to each other, it looked a little like Tom Cruise and Nicole Kidman.
The holiday had so far been thoroughly enjoyable, despite Dad's insistence they went for a walk every evening and Mum's ban on more than two ice creams a day. They might all be adults now, but it seemed the Winchesters were never going to give up being parents. Nonetheless, here he was, basking in the sun as his best friend and his brother tried to prove who was more closely related to fish. It all seemed so... normal.
It was weird, this was his fourth holiday with the Winchesters and yet he still felt a sense of confusion every time they told him to get packing. The Pypers used to go on holiday too, except they would leave him behind as a human guard dog. Not that he minded. Getting the house to himself-even with limited food and most of the electrical appliances turned off-was never going to be something he complained about. Besides, it had always felt more appropriate than the way the Winchesters insisted on including him in everything. After all, it wasn't even like he'd earnt his keep here.
The sun started to feel a little prickly on his face so he slowly rotated in the water until he was face down and holding his breath. The cool ripples lapped at his ear as Dean let the sensation of weightlessness wash over him.
The ripples seemed to grow larger and he heard the flapping of wings. He lifted his head to see a giant goose paddling next to him. Scared by the sudden movement next to it, it started squawking and flapping vigorously in Dean's face.
"Mmmnpgh!" Dean cried, the bird's wings smacking his head from side to side. He let out a low howl as its beak started pecking repeatedly at his temple.
Panicked, Dean did the only thing he could think of. He took a quick breath and dived underwater, swimming downwards blindly. When he was fully submerged by what felt like a safe few feet of water, Dean curled up in a ball and floated.
Half a minute later, with lungs screaming for oxygen, Dean surfaced once again. "Has it gone?" he called out.
A snigger floated over the water, carried by the light summer breeze. It was quickly followed by a snort and a peal of laughter. Dean swivelled to see Sam and Priya had stopped in their lengths to stare at him. Both were struggling to tread water while clutching their sides.
"It's not funny!" Dean yelled in their direction, which only made them laugh harder.
"You should have-" Sam paused to catch his breath. "You should have seen your face, Dean! It was Man vs Goose and you lost. Hell, you chickened out," he said, a proud grin adorning his face.
"You shouldn't have dived," Priya said through her hysterics, "you should have ducked." They both dissolved into laughter once again.
"You two should have your own show," Dean grunted. He tried to scowl and winced as a sharp bolt lanced through his forehead.
Fuck.
"Hey Sam, you got any change?" Dean asked casually, scanning his brother's giant form for any bulges that screamed dinero.
"No," Sam replied, sitting down on his hotel bed and grabbing the television remote.
Dean's eyes spotted the deformity in the younger guy's left sock.
Bingo.
"Aww, Sammy, c'mon," Dean pleaded, "just a couple more times. Besides, I've just suffered a vicious attack by a predatory beast, I deserve a little comfort."
Sam ignored him and continued to flick through channels. Feeling a pinch of annoyance at his brother's apparent dismissal, Dean jumped off the couch and tackled Sam to the bed.
"Get offa me, Dean!" the giant yelled as Dean scrambled down to his foot and shoved his hand down his sock.
Dean sat back up on the bed with a flourish, holding the coins up high. "Hah!"
"I'm not enabling your sick fetish!" Sam yelled. But Dean was too far gone to care. He was about to put the change and the Magic Fingers machine together to create a little slice of Heaven.
Sam dragged Priya into his room ten minutes later.
"You tell him. He won't get off the damn thing!" Sam cried.
Dean kept his eyes closed, feigning sleep. No way was he leaving the bed. All he needed was a little Casa Erotica and no chance of the parents walking in and he'd be all set for a good night in.
There was some shuffling and quiet laughter at his side, which he pointedly chose to ignore as he leaned further into the vibrations.
A second later, he jerked up and swatted wildly at his ear as he felt a fly enter it. Snapping his head round to the side, he saw Priya was holding a Q-tip up, while Sam cracked up behind her.
"The fuck?"
"I can tell when you're pretending. Your eyelids flutter," she said.
Dean let out a quiet groan as the machine rumbled to a halt. The groan turned into a quiet moan of pleasure as he slotted another coin in and the vibrations started up once again.
"Seriously Dean, get a room."
Dean opened one eye. "I have a room. This is my room. Go to your own room."
"We're sharing a room, dumbass!" Sam threw his gargantuan arms up in the air in an exasperated sigh.
"Yeah well you're... dumbass-er."
Dean stared at the ceiling, pretending not to notice Sam's pointed look at the comeback.
The mattress dipped to his left and Dean tilted his head up to see Bookworm had perched herself precariously on the vibrating edge. She reached down and absent-mindedly scratched the area where a couple of leeches had suckered onto her in the lake.
"Seriously, Bookworm, I'm so getting one of these when we've got our own place."
The words tumbled out before he'd had the chance to process them.
Seriously? Getting your own place together? Are you really so deluded you think she'll want to live with you?
"No." Priya said firmly.
Dean's heart broke a little at the finality of it. Of course she didn't see a future in them.
But then she carried on. "No way would I let that thing into our house. I'd never be able to get you off it and get things done," she said, grinning.
Dean turned away from her as his throat constricted. He blinked away the sudden moisture building up in his eyes and let the knot in the pit of his stomach loosen a little.
Maybe he wasn't quite as deluded as he thought.
March 2022
Unless Sam or Priya stopped him, Dean swore he was going to go kiss Mrs Moore straight on the lips.
The pie. The goddamn fucking piece-of-heaven pie.
"Seriously dude, your future mother-in-law is awesome," he said, breathing out the last word as he scooped up another spoonful.
"Qui' sayin'-" Sam paused to put down his bowl of wedding cake and swallow the piece in his mouth, "she's my future mother-in-law. I can't believe she baked a pie just for you," he finished in awe.
"I know, right? And it's amazing. It's orgasmic."
Sam groaned while Priya rolled her eyes. Dean ignored them and continued to gorge on the dessert Mrs Moore had handed him with a jovial "Billy often told me how you loved pie more than cake so I made this for you."
He looked up to the main table to see his friend listening intently as his newly-wed husband, Jordan, whispered something in his ear. He hadn't taken it well when Luke had broken it off with him in their first year of college via a quick email telling him he'd found another guy.
But as Dean watched the slow smile spreading across Billy's face at Jordan's words, he felt convinced it had truly all been for the best. He pulled out his phone, opened the texts from Billy, and grinned as he looked over the development of their relationship.
'Some dick at work took my spot in the parking lot. If I find who it is, I'm gonna tear them a new one.'
'You remember that guy that keeps parking in my spot at work (and don't you start up about how I can't have a spot already because I've only worked there for a month... I have a spot and you're just going to have to deal with that)? He did it again!'
'Parking-spot-stealer has struck again. I'm gonna wait for him to come pick up his car and I'm gonna tell him to knock it off.'
'The guy's called Jordan Odayu. Real moody from what I can tell. He just told me he'll park somewhere else from now on and drove away.'
'I've finished that mega-code I was writing for the latest game, but there's this one damn glitch that I can't find. It's driving me fucking crazy!'
'Shit. Of all the people, it had to be that parking spot dickhead who found the bug. It was in one of the iterations, I'd missed a line. Damn guy just strutted in, pointed it out, and walked out again.'
'Ok, help me out here, man. I don't know what to do. I went to my parking spot and Jordan's car was there again. I went into his office, ready to tear him a new one, and he just said he did it so I'd talk to him. He asked me out on a date. Fuck, what should I say?'
'Took your advice. Now, what should I wear? (Don't tell me to talk to Priya about it. She's useless for this stuff.)'
'Yeah Dean, I'm gonna go in my birthday suit. Real funny.'
'I don't even wanna talk about how that went. I spilt wine on his shirt. He tripped over my chair leg on the way to the toilet and nearly bit my nipple off in the process. I can safely say we're never gonna speak to each other again.'
'Jess told me about how you put Nair in Sam's shampoo and now he's got bald spots. You're a fucking monster. In other news, Jordan left a note saying sorry on my desk at work today. He invited me over for dinner next weekend.'
'Just got back from Jordan's place. He likes rom-coms. I don't know if we can see each other anymore.'
'I told Jordan about this insect that keeps sitting on my desk at work. He looked me right in the eye and said "It's not a bug, it's a feature." I think he's a keeper.'
'Fuck off Dean, that joke was hilarious."
"Oh my god, Dean, is that you?"
Dean snapped the cover closed on his phone and looked up.
Shit.
Georgina Baker was stood by the table with her arm around Josh, one of Billy friends from college. Dean ducked his head and prayed to a non-existent god that he might get off easy just this once and she'd get sucked into a miniature black hole created conveniently just under her feet.
No such luck.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, her voiced tinted with suspicion. "You're not trying to, uhh, find clients here, are you?"
Dean could feel his cheeks flaring pink. It was made worse by the fact Sam and Priya were now looking at the new member of the table with interest.
"I-uh-I don't really-" He paused and clutched the spoon in his hand a little tighter. "I don't really do that kind of stuff anymore."
She nodded. "I should hope so," she said. Dean noted that Josh looked mildly uncomfortable at the direction the conversation was going. "You were dirty and wrong to do it. I'm glad you finally saw that."
Priya and Sam stood up in unison and came over to flank Dean on either side.
"What did Dean do that was dirty and wrong?" asked Priya. She spoke softly, as if genuinely curious, but Dean caught the hard edge that indicated the other speaker ought to back the fuck down if they knew what was good for them.
"Guys, just leave it. Let's just go," Dean murmured at his shoes.
He started to get up to walk away when Priya's hand came down to rest upon his shoulder. "No, Dean. You don't need to feel ashamed about anything."
Georgina snorted. "Yeah, whoring yourself out to perverts is nothing to feel ashamed of."
Dean started wondering if the ground could open up and swallow him instead.
"Back off," Sam growled from behind him. "That's my big brother you're talking about."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Georgina said sincerely.
Priya had to grab Sam's jacket as the Sasquatch started to lunge towards her. Dean didn't know whether to feel pity for the kid having to deal with his brother's shit or touched by his reaction.
"Look, I don't know who you are or how you know about Dean," Bookworm spoke in that steady, controlled voice again. "But if you know what's good for you, you'll leave him alone."
"Oh trust me, I wouldn't want to go near him," Georgina replied, before muttering something about STDs and walking off.
Dean cupped his head in his hands and tried to blink back tears. "Sorry 'bout that," he mumbled through the gap between his palms. "I get it if you guys want to sit somewhere else."
Hell, he wished he could go sit as far away from him as possible.
He heard two chairs being scraped along the ground. A moment later, two arms encircled him from either side, one over his shoulder and the other around his waist.
"Who was the bitch?" asked Sam.
Dean swiped the heels of his hands over his eyes before looking up at their concerned faces. "Uh, Georgina Baker. She went to the same high school as me when I was with Rex."
"Wait, that was Georgina?" Priya met Dean's gaze. Some of the fury in her eyes appeared to have been replaced by amusement. "Your first crush?"
Dean glowered. "Yeah, so?"
Her arm tightened a little around his waist. "Dude, you need a better taste in girls."
Dean looked her up and down pointedly. "Yeah, I can see that."
"Shut up. There's always gonna be exceptions."
Dean let out a small chuckle and looked down at the plate of pie once again. He wasn't particularly hungry anymore.
Jess came over and dropped into the chair besides Sam's.
"I swear I've done more work for this wedding than Billy has," she said with a sigh.
Sam chuckled. "Have you had some cake?"
"I had about four pieces." She caught Sam's look of mock horror and glared. "Sue me."
"Can't," Sam grinned. "Not that far into law school."
Dean felt a weight shift beside him. He turned to see Priya getting up. "You leaving?"
"No, just getting a drink. You want anything?"
You.
Dean shook his head and watched as she walked away.
December 2021
Dean breathed quick, shallow puffs of moist air onto his hands and rubbed them together. Once they warm enough to move without shaking, he quickly finished picking the rusty padlock on the gate.
He should have probably felt guilty about trespassing.
Then again, it was probably too late for Dean to start caring about breaking laws. The fake IDs in the glove compartment of his Impala stood as testament to that. Nonetheless, the thought did cross his mind as he walked to the centre of the school playing fields, the crisp snow giving way under his feet.
Dean glanced down at his watch. Sam would have got the message to Priya by now. She'd be on her way. He patted the box in his trouser pocket and felt the now-familiar feeling of his heart rising up in his throat.
What if she said no?
Then you deal with it.
Not that he had any idea how to go about doing that. (It probably involved picking up a bottle and finding a monster to gank.) But he had to admit that it would be the sensible thing for her to do. Who the hell even knew why she'd put up with him for so long?
But then again, Priya could hardly be classed as sensible. She liked to mix ice cream with cornflakes and she insisted on yelling the answers at the TV whenever Countdown was on. It was somewhere in between her ranting for half an hour over the phone at the impracticalities of certain points of the menstrual cycle and her keeping two bottles of El Sol in her fridge at all times-despite the fact she didn't drink-just in case he came to her after a particularly nasty hunt and needed a place to crash, that he realised he really wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He wanted to watch her develop new quirks and let go of old ones. He wanted to wake up and see her there, steady and permanent, ready to face each new day with him by her side. He wanted to grow old together.
The damp crunch of shoes on snow had Dean looking up towards the recently-picked gate at the mouth of the playing field. Priya walked towards him as Sam stood by, flashing him a quick thumbs up from behind her head.
Bookworm stopped suddenly and started hopping on one foot. She lifted the other up and brushed off the melting sludge that had made its way over the edge of the trainer and was now trickling down the side of her sock. "Dean Winchester, I'm gonna kick your ass for bringing me out here," she called over. "I'm fucking freezing."
Do you really want to spend the rest of your life with this woman?
The pale sunlight reflected off the fresh snow and highlighted the amusement in her dark eyes.
Hell yeah.
She came to a stop a couple of feet in front of him, her small frame shivering against the cold. "Sam said you had something to show me. He wouldn't tell me anymore but he kept grinning, like, constantly. So what's up?"
Dean closed the distance between them and walked round so he was stood behind her. He ran his hands over the sleeves of her sweater, feeling the twitching muscle calm as she leaned back into his touch.
"Do you remember much about this field?" he asked, resting his chin on her shoulder.
"Yeah, I've done too many laps in PE lessons and on Sports Days to ever forget it," Priya replied, nestling further into his arms.
"Do you remember anything else?"
She tilted her head up to look at him. "Of course," she whispered.
Dean turned her around gently and took her cold fingers in his own. "You'd said we should wait five years and see where we are then. It's been nearly seven years and you're still the strongest, kindest, smartest, most beautiful girl I know. You stand up for me and you stand up to me. And I love that about you. So..." Dean squeezed her hands once and let go. Pulling out the ring box from his pocket, he knelt on the ground and looked up at her. "I was wondering if you'd do me the honour of marrying me?"
He expected a 'yes' if he was lucky, more likely a 'no' or an 'I need more time'. He definitely hadn't prepared for all-out laughter.
"What?" he snapped.
But then he thought about it. Marrying him was actually a pretty funny idea. Why the hell would anyone want to spend the rest of their life with a twenty-four year old guy who still had nightmares and froze up if he saw anyone who resembled a figure from his sordid past? Not exactly white-picket-fence husband material.
Dean forced a laugh past his lips as he stared at the ground. "Yeah, it was pretty stupid of me to think there was any chance you'd agree."
The laughter stopped above him and a moment later Priya was on her knees in front of him. "Shit, Dean, I wasn't laughing at that. I was just laughing because I'd been about to ask you. I wasn't sure if you were ever going to ask, what with what I'd said about waiting, so I thought I'd take the plunge. Hell, I was even gonna go pick up the ring tomorrow."
Dean took some time to process her words, determined not to grab hold of the wrong end of the stick. Because if she hadn't been laughing at the thought of marrying him, if she really had been planning on asking, then that meant... "Is that a yes, then?"
Priya leaned forward and gently pressed her lips up against his. She steadied herself with a hand on his shoulder and tilted her head back to look up at him. "Yes. That's a yes, you great big dork. Of course I'll marry you."
Dean laced his fingers into her soft hair and kissed her back. "You want that ring now?"
Priya nodded, making their foreheads bump. Dean opened the box and slid the band onto her finger.
The sound of crunching snow had Dean looking up for the second time that day. This time it was to see a grinning Sasquatch striding over to him. The couple stood up and Priya opened up their arms to allow Sammy to join them.
"She said yes, then?"
Dean tightened his embrace on the two people he loved most in the world. And in that moment, his past and his future didn't matter. All he cared about were the two warm bodies at his side and the smiles on their faces.
"She did."
Author Note: Thanks for taking the time to read this, I'd love some feedback if you have any! Please feel free to create art, fics, podfics, or anything else you might like for this 'verse.