Swing Your Heartache

Chapter 1

Summary: This is the 4th story in my Supernatural saga. In case you haven't been following the whole series, this comes after The Mercy of Fortune, Waiting for A Coincidence, and Why Won't You Stay. This installment takes place a few weeks after the last chapter in Why Won't You Stay and during Faith in the show.


Mavis Singer's normal screening process was nonexistent so when her phone rang, she simply answered it. "'lo?" She offered as a sleepy greeting.

"Mae?"

She blinked and sat up in bed, inexplicably turning on the light as she registered who was on the other end of the line. When she realized who it was, she was a bit confused because he rarely called her. After all, while she and Sam were friends, she'd hurt his brother and those bonds were stronger. She couldn't pretend otherwise. "Sam? It's late. Usually-"

"It's Dean."

There was a tightness and a hint of alarm in his voice, she noted but oddly enough it didn't concern her too much. If Dean were too mopey or bothered by her asking for space, there wasn't much she could do to fix it. She still needed space. She yawned sleepily. "I'm sure he'll be back by morning. If he's not call-"

"No, Mae. He's hurt."

She hadn't expected that to be reason Sam called. And it hadn't been something she had anticipated or feared. There was still a foolishly naive part of her that saw Dean as invincible. It obviously hadn't diminished with time or age. Now, with those three words, her mind was reeling with the possibilities of what it meant. Her heart tightened in a way she didn't find reassuring. "What? What happened?"

"A hunt, it went… bad and…" Sam paused, searching for what to say all that came out was his honest, raw fear, "It's bad. I don't know to do. Mae, I just don't know what to do."

He had to keep clearing his throat, pushing down that emotion that was all too close to the surface. Sam was more willing to reach out like this. Dean might have waited longer she thought. Well, he would have called her for Sam, even if things were tense between them. Either way, it meant things were worse off than Sam was telling her.

Because she hadn't said anything right away, Sam began to explain more and trying to convince her that he needed her help. No words could have compelled her more than the tremble in his voice. She made a shushing sound, throwing the covers back as she got out of bed. Any notion that she could get back to sleep was gone. "Okay Sam, it'll be okay."

It didn't placate him very well. "I've been calling around, trying to find someone…. I uh, I'm gonna try Dad again. He won't pick up."

"Alright Sam." Her voice was very kind, very maternal as she spoke. "Just… calm down a second. Where are you guys now?"

"Hospital."

"Okay, um so I don't have to drive to every hospital between here and the coast, could you give me a little more detail where you are?"

"Yeah, yeah… sorry." He told her where they were, and it wasn't exactly close, but she could push her way across the Midwest to get there. "I—just hurry."

"Sam… I… is he really that bad off?"

"His heart, the doctors say… he probably has a few weeks, maybe a month." He took a pained breath. "Mae if you know any way to save him…"

"Hey, I don't want to see him go down on the job either but all I have is paramedic training, field medic sort of stuff. I'm not a doctor, if they-"

"I mean a spell, a witch doctor, something."

She was quiet. She pinched the bridge of his nose. A part of her ran though the spells and everything else she might have known but none of them were too pretty or clean. "Sammy, I don't think that's a good idea. We shouldn't… if you and I set that sort of thing into motion, tampering with the natural order of things—"

"Screw the natural order! This is my brother we're talking about here. This is Dean. The man you love! Wouldn't you do anything to save him?"

He wasn't pulling his punches. More accurately he was being manipulative and damned if it didn't work. "I… yes but not something that would… I don't know anything that would do that without turning him into something evil and I won't do that to him."

"Fine. I'll do it myself." Sam hung up the phone, anger clear in his last word to her.


When Dean heard the footsteps in the hall, the last person he thought they'd belong to was Mavis Singer. But there she was, leaning almost casually in the doorway. She wore faded jeans, those perpetually scarred boots, a soft looking green t-shirt and a leather jacket. Her hair brushed over her shoulders, red accenting the camel color of her jacket. God, she was gorgeous. There was no other way to describe her.

If there was anything wrong with her, it looked like she had dark circles under her eyes. Seeing her made his gut twist. His worry increased and despite his best intentions the excitement he always felt when he saw her bloomed again. His smile was barely there but the heart monitor gave him away as it because beeping faster when he saw her. "Mae."

"Dean."

She couldn't even give him a fake smile. There was no way she could, seeing him in that hospital bed. He looked terrible. He looked worse than sick, worse than injured. Her thoughts must have read clearly over her face because his smile faded with a sigh. "Oh god, I must have died if you came all the way here."

That earned him a small turn of her lips. The smirk that settled on her face however was more pitying than anything else. She shook her head, coming in the room, and pulling the chair closer to his bedside without invitation. "Not quite."

Her one- or two-word answers irritated him. He found them disconcerting. It was like she was here to pay her final respects. While he was sure he was dying, he didn't need anyone to throw it in his face. After their last conversation, he'd held out hope that she would simply come around in a day or two and call him, but she hadn't. He didn't think the attraction, the draw was just on his end. She had to feel something, but she was so good a shutting it down. Frankly, he wanted to fight with her. At least that would have felt normal. "Well you look like crap, Red." He quipped.

"Gee, thanks."

Her expression was just too somber. Even if it were an accurate assessment, he wanted her to do him the favor of hiding that. He would have masked his nervousness for her. "You do. I mean I'm the one who just rode the lightning and I bet you I look better than you."

Her mouth tightened. "I drove all night to get here, ingrate."

Grinning, he was glad he could goad her back into a more typical ornery response rather than the sweet condolatory one. He didn't mind her trying to take care of him or even being kind to him, but he didn't need her pity. "You could have at least done your make up or put on something skimpy. I saw some of those lacy numbers in your underwear drawer. Maybe throw on a trench coat over that. After all I'm supposed to be on the mend."

The redhead finally cracked a very faint smile and that tightness in her shoulders lessened. She still wasn't sure how she was supposed to act yet. It wasn't just because he was in the hospital; it was because they hadn't left things on the best of terms. To be fair, she hadn't left things on the best of terms. He had been more than willing to… figure things out with her. Dean wasn't the bad guy, he was actually trying to be a good friend.

"I really didn't expect to see you here, Mae."

She shrugged, easing out of her coat now. "Sam called me and told me you were hurt. What would you expect me to do?"

Dean was still feeling snarky, a little manipulative when he spoke. "Ignore it, like all of my calls. Tell him you needed space."

While he wanted her to come up with some sort of spectacular excuse that put her distant behavior over the last few days into perspective, she only nodded. "I guess that's fair enough. I uh, I wasn't… well hell, I didn't expect this."

"So… why are you here now? Just because I'm dying."

"Yes."

While she had come all the way to see him, she was still as distant as she had been since he last saw her. It was like she was just going through the motions here and he didn't like it. "I guess you've seen me, I've seen you and now I can kick the bucket."

Why the hell couldn't she just say or do the right thing? The both wondered it but only one of them was hoping it would somehow change with the blink of an eye. Her eyes closed and dropped her head. She wanted to tell him that she came because she thought he might die and if they had to have a last conversation, it wasn't the one that they had a few weeks ago. That sounded crass. She decided to go with another kind of honesty. "Turns out I had a harder time walking away this time."

"Well how nice for me."

It was hard to say Dean way pouting. After all, it wasn't him who started pushing her away the first chance he got. Not that it changed the way she felt. She still needed time to think about things, to figure them out but this changed things. "I-Your brother's really worried and... You can't hold my needing space against me. That's a fair ask. But even that... it doesn't mean I don't care about you. I do."

Dean had a difficult time believing that. If she cared, what was the point of being as cruel as she had been? He knew how he felt. He didn't need the time, the space to figure things out. And he didn't think she was confused about her feelings either. But unlike her, he was willing to try. He was willing to figure it out as they went and fight it out if need be. He didn't know how she could do it, it was driving him crazy. "You have a shitty way of showing it."

"You act like...I'm not allowed to have feelings too, especially if they're contrary to yours. You act like I somehow went on this rampage to trample your feelings. I... I'm sorry that I didn't just come out and tell you that I needed space rather than...let it drag on. But I didn't tell you I needed time because I wanted to hurt you. I have stuff to deal with that I need to deal with. I'm not always okay and it's hard to keep all that from surfacing when I'm with you. I didn't want this to blow up in my face, so I need to take a step back. I needed some room to breathe because you can make me forget about everything else. And...I... don't want you to die So I'm sorry."

Dean frowned. He hadn't pushed her enough to get her to talk about her reasons behind needing space, knowing it would have only caused a bigger fight at the time. They simply never talked about what was wrong. He supposed she had good enough reason to ask him for more time and had he known what she just told him...well, it didn't really matter now. She was here because he was dying.

He hated that slow creep of sympathy for her that he felt when he looked at her. Still, he as a matter of pride, couldn't apologize for his reaction. He was still a little angry but mostly hurt by her rejection. Maybe she hadn't been trying to bail as much as he thought. It was far too easy to soften to her. "You look good Mae." He said most sincerely this time.

That delicate red brow quirked and so did her smile, eyes letting that strange mix of anger, pity, hurt and affection to ease more towards simple affection. "One of us has to because you look like shit."

He laughed slightly but watched, skeptical, she stood then sat on the edge of his bed. "I really am surprised you came. You didn't have to."

She took his hand in hers and he must have been starved for an affectionate touch because her warm, soft hands were so comforting. "Sam called me." It was the simple truth. What she suspected Dean didn't know was that she would have come for less. Although Sam had to complain and harass her less than Dean would have.

"He convinced you to come?"

She shook her head, the red hair shifting in a way that made him want to bury his face against her neck. "No, I mean he told me you were here, but he didn't need to do or say anything to convince me I should come here. I couldn't… I wouldn't just ignore this."

"Yeah well, sometimes you get the bear, sometimes the bear gets you."

There was a morose sentiment to her tone, the fall of her face and that look in her blue gray eyes. "I guess."

It was disheartening how she seemed to accept fate. Sam was hell bent on finding something, anything that would fix him. Mae seemed more pragmatic. "What no pep talk? No, 'Dean I've come to save you?'" To be honest, he'd take it if she had something up her sleeve.

She shook her head. "My area of expertise is more in the demon, ghouls, ghosty sort of thing. Not trouble with your ticker."

Dean chuckled only because she tapped on his chest lightly. "Well in that case, I guess the only thing left is for you to do give me my last rights and lap dance and let me die happy. I think a sexy nurse costume would be apt."

He looked incredibly cocky and self-assured despite the way he was feeling. How odd, she thought that there were certain things that didn't change for that man. "Your last rights and lap dance?" She asked incredulously, "I'm not here to give you a lap dance."

"Lap dance, strip tease… whatever gets you naked. That would be my dying wish."

"Dean," She said, leaning forward, almost invitingly close, "just because this isn't my scene doesn't mean that I doubt your brother for a second. You're not gonna die."

He closed his eyes as her breath made a hot caress over his ear. He shivered, tried to keep his tone even but once again the heart monitor gave her away. "Yeah that's what I keep hearing but I'm seeing as I'm no Steve Austin and you didn't show up with my 6 million dollars, I'll have to take my chances. Of course, if Sammy doesn't figure it out, you could at least make it a fun death. Hell, you're the hottest thing in this whole hospital."

"I'm sure he's checking out some leads and we're not going to let you go down without a fight. But I'll tell you what, just to humor you, if we don't figure something out, I'll get naked, and you can die happy."

"Well then, I guess I should die more often, it seems to get me what I want from you." He waggled his eyebrows when she frowned, "So if I'm dying, you'll sleep with me?"

"No, no. You just said naked. I have a strict rule about not doing anything thing that ends up with a dead dude under me."

"I guess I could be on top. Or maybe...there's something with levers and pulleys we can rig up."

His teasing was beginning to border on weird and would probably veer off into a direction he wasn't ready for. He wasn't sure why he kept trying tease her that way when it was only fun before it stumbled into uncomfortable desire. So, he changed the topic. "Are you at least gonna bust me out outta here?"

"No."

That surprised him. He thought she would at least do that, help him out a little. If they couldn't make him better, there was no reason to sit around and wait for his heart to finally give out. "Why not? It's not like you love hospitals."

"Yeah but I can make a break for it without keeling over. So, when you can do that, I'll assist you in your escape."

"You got so many rules baby. I hate it here."

That part was pouting, she thought with a little smirk. "No one expects you to like it."

His eyes drifted from the woman to the television as he contemplated what to say to her next. Did he want to unpack this, or did he just want to be grateful, take solace in the way she warmed up when they were together. She shifted her chair away from him, towards the TV but she still held his hand. And, after all, she had come to see him. "Listen, it's not like I want to die but..."

"I know."

"Sam... I, uh, I'm not sure he does. Promise me..."

"Yeah, sure."

He let his eyes wander back to her, studying her profile. He could almost see that she felt the same way about him that he felt about her. But she believed whatever was in her head that told her she couldn't or should love him back. At times, he felt that too but more because he knew loving her meant risking hurting her or losing her. Her fear seemed to be centered in the idea that she would lose or hurt him because of who she was, not what she did.

Dean squeezed her hand. "I'm glad you're here."

Her chuckle was bitter, but those blue gray eyes were a little hopeful. "Really? Because you seemed kinda pissed."

"I don't like getting shut out. I wasn't mad because you wanted or needed space, but you could have told me a couple weeks ago. You could have told why. I get being screwed up. Do you think it wouldn't matter to me if we fucked this up again? You could have just said that."

She shook her head. "It's not just that. You uh, I don't think you know just how screwed up I am and just how screwed up us having a relationship could be. It's not for lack of want or even the way I feel about you. And you have this way about you where it short circuits my normal thinking process and I just get all… girly about you."

"Like I'm gonna complain about that."

"That's just it. See, in the short term, I don't think I'd care but… it'll come back, it will, and I don't want to start hating you or me because of that."

Sighing, he looked her straight in the eyes. "Well sweetheart, short term is all we've got going for us right now."

It made her face fall even though it hadn't been particularly cheery right then. "Don't talk like that."

"Hey, it happens, you and I both know it does so there's no use holding back now. If there's something you wanna tell me, better tell me now."

As much as his brother believed that there was a way to save him and wouldn't give into any other notion, Mae wouldn't tell him what she needed to tell him, not yet. Not yet. She went with deflection.

"I wasn't distancing myself to punish you."

It wasn't what he hoped she'd say but it. "Well, the last time that you said you were okay and then we went our separate ways, we didn't talk for five years. You had to realize that maybe I might think that was what you were trying to do here. You know I was really trying to be a friend here and... I didn't think I was doing a bad job of it."

"No, you weren't."

"Then what is it really?"

She would have cursed if she didn't know it would give him a perverse pleasure in knowing that he'd trapped her, seen through her smoke screen. "It doesn't matter does it? You're all keen on dying."

"Oh, come on baby, don't be like that. You can't blame me for not being able to bounce back from being electrocuted." He said, turning her words around on her.

"I'm not blaming you for anything, I'm just saying you being dead sort of changes the equation doesn't it?"

Dean shrugged as he studied her face. "You could at least tell me the truth, what scares you so much, just to make me feel better."

"If you don't die. I'll tell you then."

His eyes narrowed as his brow arched skeptically over her offer. "You're a tease."

"Oh no, teasing would have been me coming here in my catholic school girl uniform."

Again, the discussion shifted back into that uncomfortable, pseudo sexual area that left him thinking about what was happening between them. "Oh, now you're just being cruel."