A/N - Look out for chapter two of Meteor Shower tonight or tommorow night. I re-wrote chapter two, twice and therefore had to tweak the following chapters after that around and it's a few days later than planned. Not to worry though, it's coming. I wrote this story early 2009 on Live journal, so I'd thought I'd post it on here. It's set around about season 2 in Supernatural.
Broke in the Pressure
It is the middle of summer in Arizona and the air is thick, hot and breezeless and in Dean's father's Chevy Impala, it's almost unbearable.
Brooke's short bandeau top sticks to her soft, porcelain skin and Dean tries hard to pretend that he does not notice. He also avoids the slight glistening that the top of her cleavage is giving off due to the small beads of sweat that have gathered there.
She is draped across the backseat of the car and her bare legs are elevated slightly; so that they do not stick to the leather of the car-seat.
"I am so hot." she states to him and he looks up into the rear view mirror to grin at her in agreement.
He's seventeen and she's fifteen and although he's self conscious of this fact, he knows that two years is barely an arguable age difference.
Dean gingerly places a cigarette into his mouth and lights it before offering one to Brooke too, hoping to appear more edgy and mature.
"Ew, gross, those things will kill you, you know." She tells him, crinkling her delicate nose in disgust and he tries not to allow himself to be disheartened.
"I can think of a lot worse things that could kill me.' He proclaims honestly and he instantly regrets it when he notices that she's suddenly silent.
After what seems like a lifetime of silence; Brooke swings her legs around and sits up straight in her seat, crossing her left leg over her right.
"Let's do something." She rasps before taking on a slightly more serious tone. "Anything that can keep my mind off of these stupid demon hunts." She runs her fingers through her hair and then shakes her head; her wavy, brunette tresses tumbling casually onto her shoulders.
"Well what do you have in mind?" He asks while wiping a bead of condensation off of his forehead. He knows full well what he wants.
She smiles at him widely, showing off her scatterings of dimple indentations before leaning over his front seat and boldly planting her lips against his.
"This." She pulls him into the back seat of the car and tugs his tee shirt over his head before planting salty kisses across his chest. He's unable to contain himself and he groans and pushes himself against her, weaving his hand through her hair as she moves back up to his face and he catches her lips with his own.
As she wraps herself around him, he's pretty sure he'll always remember this feeling and how the sun beat heavily through the window and onto their bare naked skin.
He realizes that he has never felt so alive and free and he suddenly doesn't care about all the horrible things he's seen and the worse things that he will one day come to witness. Neither of them care that both their parents are hunters and that their life is dark and bleak. While they are in the back of that car, they are just another boy and a girl who are caught up in the heat of a summer romance, and in the end, that's all that matters.
Present Day
Brooke Davis tries to tell herself that she doesn't care that Dean Winchester is leaving and most likely never returning, she needed him about as much as a hole in the head. He's conceited and shallow and even if she looked past this and allowed herself to get lost in that inviting cheeky smile of his – that lit up his whole face and caused his eyes to seem to twinkle brightly – the last thing she wanted was to fall in love again, especially with a hunter.
She's not stupid; she knew hunter men are not the heroes that many perceived them to be. Many of them are ruthless, unkind and driven by death. Their job is not about saving innocent lives. It's about hunting the evil that drives them, the evil that's failed them and the evil that has turned their lives into a lonely pit of despair of which there is no escape.
Brooke Davis grew up where both her parents were hunters and they were selfish enough to expect the same existence for her and her younger sister Haley. That was until the gates of hell opened up and swallowed them whole, stripping them of their human souls and replacing them with a soulless evil that inhabited their bodies and reaped havoc and destruction in their awakening.
What happened after that is something Brooke does not like to recall, the demons taunted her and made her bleed, inwardly as well as outwardly. Her sister Haley had to be the one to exorcise the demons from within their parents, Brooke had said reciting Latin was not one of her strong points but both sisters knew it was because she wasn't strong enough to be the one to do it. They both watched in horror as the swarming black rushed out of their parent's wide-open mouths before they collapsed into a vacant pile while the two sisters wept over their dying bodies.
So the two sisters left and moved to small town Tree Hill in North Carolina, a place where the death count due to supernatural circumstances was zero to none.
For the next six years both sisters led comfortable and uneventful lives. Haley finished school and studied English Literature at Duke University whilst Brooke helped her boyfriend's mother manage a club named 'Tric.'
Brooke had met a man named Lucas and they'd quickly became an item. He had set his sights on her instantly and she'd had wanted nothing more then to feel safe and loved, so she had let him love her and in return she loved him back selflessly.
He didn't know about her past and she had told him that her parents had died in a car accident. Occasionally he'd carefully probe her about her childhood, curious about how and where she was brought up but she'd swiftly change the subject and silence him with passionate kisses so he would become too delirious with lust to notice that she was avoiding the subject.
But a new plague arose within Lucas, one that had no supernatural explanation. Sometimes she felt that she'd have preferred it if he had left her because something unnatural had taken him over, instead of a certain Peyton Sawyer that had seemed so much more alluring then Brooke ever had.
She was artistic and intelligent and more than anything she was constantly crying out to be saved, and three days before their six year anniversary, Lucas had told her he was leaving her for Peyton which spurred Brooke to do what she had done once before.
She ran away; little sister in tow.
Brooke was less then pleased about Haley's proposed destination. In fact, less then pleased was an understatement, she was furious.
"Haley we are not going to go live with Uncle Bobby and Aunt Ellen. They are both hunters." Brooke spat out the final word with disgust while folding her arms indignantly.
"Brooke I am uprooting my whole life for you, and I don't mind because you are my sister and I love you but they are family and we have no money. Besides they are not hunters. Bobby just advises younger hunters and he barely ever goes on hunting trips any more. Plus you know Ellen, she hates hunting too but she deals with it because she loves Bobby."
Brooke let out a defeated sigh and clucked her tongue.
"Yeah well, I am not working in that bar of theirs; drunken hunters annoy the hell out of me."
Bobby and Ellen welcomed the two women with open arms, promising both that any supernatural discussion would be kept to a minimum in front of them. It also didn't take Brooke long to relent on working in the Harvelle Roadhouse bar, she needed the money and it kept her busy, stopping her mind from wandering back to thoughts of Lucas.
A year or so after Brooke and Haley had moved in with Bobby and Ellen, Brooke was working her shift in the Roadhouse bar when she noticed two familiar faces. The older face of the two caught her eye and grinned at her and she inhaled a sharp intake of breath.
It was a face she certainly thought she'd never see again.
"Brooke Davis." The familiar face had said with a smile; adding a breathy 'huh' at the end of his statement.
Dean Winchester was two years older than she was and they had spent a lot of unsolicited time together when she was 15 years old. It had been an eventful summer; Brooke's parents and Dean's father had joined forces to exterminate a particularly tricky coven of witches in Arizona.
Brooke and Dean had also joined forces, but in a much different way than to that of their parents.
Upon seeing Brooke for the first time in ten years, Dean had decided that although Brooke had gotten a hell of a lot more beautiful since he'd last seen her; her whole demeanour seemed different. She was more rigid, less free – less the Brooke Davis who lost her virginity to him in the backseat of his car – different. She looked damaged and broken and if he was one of those guys who had a hero complex when it came to women (which, by the way, he wasn't.) He'd probably feel the uncontrollable need to put her back together again.
Dean was staying town for a while with his brother and although she didn't know the exact details, she knew it had something to do with the recent death of their father.
He hung around the Roadhouse bar a lot and Brooke had noticed the way her cousin Jo longingly looked at Dean when she thought he wasn't looking. Brooke wasn't jealous, not at all. She just thought he was a little too old for Jo and besides that; Ellen's head would spin if she thought Dean was hitting on her. So when she heard him make a comment to Jo – one night when she was getting a little bit too close for comfort – along the lines of,
"Wrong time and wrong place."
Brooke couldn't help but feel a tiny bit of smug satisfaction.
Brooke doesn't know how exactly she ended up in bed with Dean; she was merely going too his motel room to see if he was okay. She'd seen him angrily smashing up his Impala earlier that day, to which she thought was a bit dumb considering he was restoring it and he'd snapped at her, telling her to mind her own business.
She'd retorted back, telling him 'it was a lame car because seriously, it was 2006 and nobody drives around in a car from 1967.'
She'd declared it while standing with her hands on her hips and pouting in a self-satisfied way.
It was then that he had replied with a throaty chuckle, telling her 'she knew nothing about cars or the sentiment of that car and besides she wasn't complaining when was naked in the back of it.'
And before she could think of a comeback, he was pushing his hands through her hair and kissing her deeply.
She pushed him off of her in protest, ready to slap him in the face and tell him she was far from interested in him and he had no right to just jump on her when their eyes interlocked and she noticed that his eyes were tired, vacant and lifeless.
He looked like a wounded soldier who had lost everything at war. It was a look of extreme loss and it was pain she recognized all too well, as it was mirrored in her eyes too. So against her better judgement she threw caution to the wind, allowing herself to get lost in him totally.
In that moment she needed him to want her, to crave her and to make all the hideous and cruel facts of life disappear. She wanted to forget that both their parents were dead and just mould into him; like two pieces of a jigsaw fitting together in unison.
When it was over she had clung to him tightly, tracings circles with her fingertips on his chest while he rested his head upon hers and breathed in her sweet, vanilla scent. Unfortunately, Dean's brother Sam had walked in on them and he had turned around to leave so quickly that he smacked his face on the door.
"I'm sorry, I...uhm...yeah."
He'd muttered in embarrassment before continuing his swift exit and Brooke felt her cheeks blush feverously.
"Oh, God." She had groaned and Dean had laughed as he recalled Sam smacking his face on the door.
"I gotta go; my shift starts in ten minutes." Brooke stated plainly as she rolled out of Dean's arms and began to button up her shirt.
"Surely you can be late." He raised his eyebrows suggestively at her and she shook her head.
"No, I can't."
And before Dean could protest she had put on her jeans and exited the motel room without another word.
"I'm leaving tomorrow. Bobby has a lead on where the evil son of a bitch that killed my dad is."
Dean had told Brooke while she wiped over bar counter with a wet cloth. It had been a week since they'd slept together and he was unable to get her out of his mind. She had seemed uninterested in him since the act and although he didn't expect anything from her, he was shocked at how much of a guy she was being about the whole thing. It was as if it had never even happened.
"Oh." She had replied, feeling an unexpected twinge in her chest. She hadn't expected him to stay; she knew he would leave at some point so she had no clue as to why she felt a little saddened.
"Well good luck with that." She'd said without looking up at him.
Dean nodded, a little stung that she seemed so unaffected by the fact he was leaving. He didn't even understand why he cared so much; he had meaningless sex with women all the time. However he knew by the way she'd moaned his name and wrapped herself around him that the sex had not been entirely meaningless, she'd needed him in that moment as much as he'd needed her.
"I don't know if we'll ever cross paths again but was nice seeing you again, it really was. I hope things work out with you."
He said it sincerely while getting out of his chair and walking out of the bar. As he left he turned around and caught her eye and just for a split second she'd almost felt as if her heart was breaking slightly. The realization unnerved her and she quickly turned away from him.
A part of her wanted to tell him to stay so she could heal him and in return he could heal her too but when she looked back up, he had left.
END