Pour Toujours

Author:Sakura123

Written: 6/10/07

Completed: 1/19/09

Updated: 5/26/2013

Rating: T

Genre: Drama/General

Timeline: Alternate Universe ("What is and what Should Never Be")

Summary: She was fine when he left. That was just barely over an hour ago.

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all related places or things are Property of Eric Kripke. Auguries of Innocence is property of William Blake. Midnight Liberation Zone (from R.O.D. THE TV) is property of Geneon Entertainment.

Authors Note: This is my first attempt at writing anything related to Supernatural. This story "Pour Toujours (Forever)" was simply meant to be a ONE-SHOT (though I might consider turning it into a bunch stories I wish to compile into one place, [shrugs] who knows?) based within the realms of "What is and What Should Never Be", though it doesn't follow the episode entirely. Reviews of the Norm and Constructive Criticism is welcome, but no rude or crass comments. If you don't like this, then kindly please exit.

Act I. Uncomfortable Environments

"….Listening to me?" Sam's voice brought Dean back from the brink of his own blissful oblivion. The older brother twisted his head in Sam's direction, his expression curious. Sam raised his shoulders in question, his face etched with disbelief as Dean sorted through his memories in hopes to retrieve anything resembling the conversation he was pretending to have with Sam. When nothing came to him, he titled his head and grinned. "You know me, Sammy," Dean answered. Sam scoffed with a quick nod of his head, shoving his hands into his pockets he allowed his eyes wander about the sidewalk. "Yeah, I know you. Through one ear and out the other," Sam grumbled.

Dean gave him a sort of helpless shrug, he couldn't help that his mind suddenly remembered the title of a book his mother wanted for her birthday, almost two days ago now. He had gotten her a Kitchen-Aid instead, promising to get the book when he had the chance; "Work really had me swamped this week. I'm sorry," Dean remembered saying to her after everyone had gone home and there was just the two of them in the house. Mary, ever the understanding parent, gave her son a pat on the leg and smiled. "I know you've gotten it if you could. I'm not mad, honest," She leaned in and planted a kiss on his furrowed brow. In that moment, Dean knew he was forgiven, but spent the rest of the week trying to remember the title of the book Mary wanted.

How ironic that he would remember the title and find it sitting behind the local bookstore's window while on an outing with his estranged brother. "Not really, I was just remembering something. What were we talking about?" Dean answered moving towards the bookstore's front door. "Hey, Dean!" Sam followed after his brother, a little perturbed by his absentmindedness. Dean had covered a lot of ground despite the length of his legs, Sam had to jog across the room just catch up with him.

"Dude, what is your problem? We have meet Jessica and Cassie at the restaurant in fifteen minutes," Sam said.

"I know that. I've got to get something," The elder answered.

Sam made a face. "What, Sports Illustrated? Maxim, Playboy?" Dean threw a look of disdain over his shoulder as he approached the information desk. Sam watched in mild confusion when they past the magazine wrack, he groaned when the woman sitting at the desk was no longer concerned with her lukewarm coffee mug. She smiled pleasantly at the two young men. She was quite easy on the eyes, however barely above the average beauty level, Dean noted. Her brunette hair curled around her round face, most of it was pulled up into a pony tail. Square reading glasses complemented her almond shaped eyes. She was thin, wafer thin. It made Dean wonder how many meals a day she skipped to keep up that figure. She sat up a little straighter when the duo stood before the desk, fixing her glasses in a self-conscious manner. "How man I help you?" Her tone practiced, businesslike.

Dean didn't answer at first, his entire focus was suddenly on his hands, Sam nudged his brother roughly. "Oh - yeah, sorry about that," He chuckled nervously. "I was wondering, if that book over there -" he pointed the back of the book he had been eyeing, "-Midnight Liberation Zone, was for sale?" Dean inquired.

The woman regarded the young man standing in front of her for a moment, averted her attention to the book sitting idly in the store's window display, then focused her attention on the computer. Sam watched the precise movements of the woman's shoulders with mild exasperation. Jessica was plotting his death at this very moment. He could feel it. "You're in luck, sir. That particular copy is for sale, and it's a 1st edition. Hardback, too," The woman chirped almost too cheerfully. Sam rolled his eyes. Yeah, lucky him, he thought wearily. He watched his brother fish out the proper amount of money (about $50.86), the woman placed the book into a mini plastic bag alongside the receipt and change. "Thank you for shopping with us. Would you be interested in joining our book club?" The woman added hastily.

Dean gave a mock-salute as he and brother headed towards the door. "Thanks, but, no thanks," He said. They exited the store with renewed speed in their pace. Sam making the most headway while Dean lingered in the back flipping through the book he purchased. "Hurry up, Dean, we're more than fifteen minutes late!" Sam shouted over the heavy traffic.

Dean's eyebrows twitched in response, he wasn't one for being tardy, especially when it came to Cassie, but there were some things that just had to wait, especially when it came to his mother. Dean placed the book back into the bag, he raised his head to stare down at his brother's solid blue dress-shirt. "Yeah, yeah, quit worrying so much s-" Dean's breath caught in his throat. In the corner of his eye he caught sight of a familiar shape standing just across the street, waving, flickering in and out of existence, calling out to him.

His head turned so fast, he swore he could've caused whiplash in process. His eyes barley had time to focus on the figure, a bus came barreling through his vision, the silhouette was gone in the blink of an eye. Dean stood there for ten more good minutes before the sensation of his brother's hand clamping down on his arm brought him back to his senses. "What are you doing? We're running late, c'mon!" Sam grounded out. Dean allowed his brother to drag him up the street then yanked his arm out of his hand.

Sam faced his brother with a deadly serious expression etched upon his features. "Don't blow a fuse, Sam, I thought I saw something," Dean answered, walking past. Sam came up beside his brother, the air around the youngest Winchester practically sizzled with the irritation that seemed to be killing what remained of his good mood.

"Well, I didn't. All I saw was you, staring off into the distance, at nothing," Sam placed the empathized on the last of his sentence.

"Just because you didn't see anything there, doesn't mean there wasn't something there. But, hey, whatever floats your boat, man," Was Dean's response. Sam scowled at the profile of his brother's face. "You're such a-," The words died on the tip of his tongue and he didn't know why. He ignored the curious glance he got from Dean, allowing the silence to wedge its way between them. "What'd you get mom again?" Without pause for further inquiries, Dean reached into the plastic bag and revealed to his brother the book. Sam took it gingerly, as if he were afraid to touch it almost. It wasn't like his brother to answer his questions without questioning why.

Then again, it was like he was an entirely different person when it came to their mother and Cassie. He sighed as he rubbed his fingers across the smooth hardback cover, he could just imagine the look on mom's face when she got this. "What makes you think, she'll like this?" Sam challenged, in hopes of a conversation of a normal magnitude. Dean gave his brother an incredulous look, as if saying 'you know the answer that question'.

Sam shrugged his shoulders, "Humor me, man," He said lamely. Dean felt the bones in his neck crack as his turned his gaze away from his brother. It was obvious that Sam, despite his stubbornness, was feeling the affects of their broken relationship, and yearned for more beyond their arguments. Dean felt it sometimes himself, often wondering what even created the rift between them. It been so long ago. "She told me, you know, without really sayin' it, that she wanted this book for her birthday. That was about a week ago," Dean answered. "Why?"

Sam shrugged nonchalantly. "Just curious. Besides, I know you could never read this." Sam paused for dramatic effect, watching his brother bristling at his words. "The reading level's too high." Sam's words did not go unchallenged; Dean bolted after him as Sam made haste down the sidewalk towards their desired destination. Laughing as the words, "You're so dead!" Escaped his brother's lips.

Cassie Robinson was one of the few people entirely privy to the history surrounding the fallout between Dean and his brother, Sam Winchester. It happened long before she came along, but regardless of its age, her first attempt to get Dean to talk about it gave her a answer that satisfied her curiosity. Dean told her things, albeit in bits and pieces in unexpected moments in their relationship, going into detail about what had actually caused the divide. The hint that she always searched for, came up in a torrent of frustration and thus his dodgy behavior about Sam verified what she thought was the root. The crux of it was, naturally, their father; but, why either brother allowed the passing of John Winchester to foster such hatred between them boggled her mind. Jessica wasn't much help on this particular subject either; Sam was reserved about what he told his fiancée about him and brother's tattered relationship as Dean wasn't. After a while, Cassie stopped asking in fear that she would begin to sound like a busybody more than a concerned girlfriend.

Why was she even thinking about this? It was cold case subject as far as Dean was concerned and… Cassie adjusted her Nine West sunglasses as she watched her lover attempt to suck his frozen milkshake up the straw he had chosen over the last spoon, given to her to eat her own ice-cream. Her eyes wandered the large expanse was the sunlit area of downtown Lawrence, Kansas. Watching the two men who sat across from her, Cassie would've never guessed the two of them were at odds. She smiled as Dean's face scrunched up in disappointment at his failed attempt to get his milkshake through the straw.

Dejectedly, he slammed the cup down on the table and proceeded to prop his elbow up on the wall in front of their table and peer outside the large window. "I told you to use the spoon," Sam laughed, swallowing another spoonful of his chocolate ice-cream. "Hmmm… so delicious." Dean glared sideways at his brother's smug expression, taking note of Jessica rolling her eyes at her husband-to-be. Dean shrugged nonchalantly at his brother's jibe and snatched the unused spoon resting next to Jessica's empty ice-cream bowl.

He twirled the finger length object in front of his brother's face, Sam's long arm came out from under the table in an attempt to retrieve it. Dean gave the spoon a slobbery lick with his tongue before shoveling a hefty amount of frozen milkshake out of his cup and into his mouth. Sam near sputtered with anger while the ice-cream was still melting in his mouth, he glared daggers at his brother's grin. "Dean, that was Jessica's spoon!" He cried, a little over-dramatically. The look on Dean's face was mixture of irritation and amusement, ignoring the heated glare of his brother Dean gestured to the curly haired blonde.

"Jessica doesn't mind, do 'ya Jess?" Dean said casually, taking another bite. If there ever was a time that Jessica would've mad at Dean's 'take first, ask later' antics, it should've been right there. However, she remained calm and gave the elder Winchester a tight lipped smile. "I would appreciate that you ask to use my spoon, instead of taking it," Jessica answered stiffly, the angelic smile never leaving her face.

Jessica's spoon entered Dean's mouth half-way indicating that he had heard the implication behind the blonde's polite words. His Adams apple convulsed unconsciously as he sucked on the melting soft-drink against his lips. He turned away from Jessica - who grinned at her ill at ease boyfriend - and chewed on the spoon, a contemplative expression on his face. Dean recovered quickly, his infectious smile and hazel eyes replaced the shadow of anxiety that crossed his features before. "Yeah, well, you know I'm good for it, Jess," He said, wagging his eyebrows. Jessica scoffed in mock-disgust as she instinctively placed a hand on Sam's clenching fist.

Dean pretended to gag on his spoon, Sam shoved his brother in a good-natured manner. The foursome lapsed into a uncomfortable silence. After a while Jessica and Cassie engaged in brief conversations in hopes drawing their solemn boyfriends out of their contemplative moods. It worked a total two times; Cassie made a comment on Dean's 'excellent' cooking skills, particularly his spaghetti and meatballs. In response to her praise, Sam replied, "Jessica's the better the cook. Nothing like a woman's touch," with a drawl. Dean rolled his eyes at this, he said nothing to challenge the implication and simply stared off into the distance. The second time, Jessica suggested a vacation for four to Tahiti, both men shot the ideal down with a firm and unisoned "No!" which left no room for argument.

Cassie slouched her shoulders as she removed her glasses from her face, her brown eyes visible for the first time that afternoon. "Do the two you plan on giving us the silent treatment like this all day? This was supposed to be our day." Dean's jaw clenched slightly as he met his girlfriend's gaze, he looked down at his melting milkshake with mild interest. It was Sam's voice whom vouched for them. "No, we don't mean to be jerks - well, I don't mean to be a jerk, I don't know about Dean-"

"Hey!" Dean interrupted.

"-But, I promise we'll be on our best behavior. You have our word as faithful boyfriends," Sam empathized, glancing in his brother's direction. Dean returned the acknowledgement by nodding in affirmative, swallowing the last of his milk shake. Jessica and Cassie regarded both men sitting across from them with wary eyes. There was no reason not believe them, but knowing Sam and Dean, they would find something to use to get each other nerves. The goal was not give them said reason. Cassie pushed herself up out of her chair, her hands placed firmly on the smooth marble table, Dean rose from his chair as well and moved to join her outside the confined space of the table area. Almost instinctively he snaked his arm around Cassie's waist, his fingers tapping against the exposed skin of her stomach.

"Well," Jessica sighed, hoisting her bag strap up on her shoulder and rising up from her chair as well. "I think its time for a retail therapy. C'mon Sam." Sam choked back his hesitance, taking Jessica's hand he allowed her to lead him down the narrow pathway of tables towards the exit. Dean made it his business to dump their trash in the nearest available trashcan before he and Cassie followed the couple outside. Much to the Winchester's dismay, they spent the rest of the day shopping for the girls.

Dean let out a weary sigh as he parked the Impala across the street from the Winchester residence. He had taken Cassie back to their apartment a half an hour ago, Cassie was more than happy to leave him to his business. There was plenty stuff in the shopping bags to keep her entertained during his absence. Laying idly on the passengers seat was the book he had bought earlier that day. The book for Mary. Twisting tiredly in his seat, he listed to the bones in his back and neck pop, reaching over he picked the book up off the seat and climbed out of the Impala. He delighted at the sound of the door springs creaking loudly, a sign of its age. He shut the door. Pocketing his keys he trudged across the street his posture reflecting the purpose and determination he felt swelling inside his chest.

Then he saw her again. In the corner of his eye, he spotted the wavering figure standing off in the distance, waving, this time frantically, in his direction. Dean dared not to turn around, his body stiffened with fear. The wind carried the soundless voice calling out his name. Desperation tinged the air, Dean pulled at his collar in hopes to reducing the choking sensation that curled around his neck. "God," He gasped heavily, turning his head in the direction of the wavering figure. This time he managed to glimpse a better image of 'her'; The sunlight was directly in his line of sight, he saw her nevertheless.

A flowing white nightgown at the mercy of a strong wind that never reached him, hair that glowed ethereally under the setting sun, and blue eyes that paled against the whites of her eyes. Dean blinked unsure if he was actually seeing this phantom woman. Unfortunately, just as he blinked, she vanished, not a trace of her existence lingered. The tightness around his throat vanished, Dean let out a breath of relief. He remained in the middle of the street for few more minutes, staring at the empty sidewalk across the way until the familiar sound of a door opening brought him out of his stupor. "Dean? Dean are you alright?" It was Mary. Dean looked up at his mother, standing outside the door wearing a pair of sweatpants and tank top.

"Uh, yeah," Dean answered, a smile plastered on his face. "I was just inspecting the lawn." That was so lame. Mary, however, didn't seem to notice the uneasiness in her son's voice. If she did, she decided not to pay any attention to it. "Come inside sweetheart, its getting dark," Mary said, retreating back inside.

Dean crossed the street quickly and bounded up the stairs into the house. Immediately he picked up the smell of food cooking in the oven, a childish grin spread across his face, he ventured into the kitchen where he found his mother standing over the sink, humming to herself. "What's cooking?" He asked, joining her side.

Mary smiled when her son planted a kiss on her cheek. Turning to face him, she said, "My dinner, why? Your not staying over again, are you?" Mary inquired, smiling. Dean shrugged innocently, biting the inside of his mouth. "Cassie wouldn't mind," Dean said, a bit too quickly.

"No, of course she wouldn't. She's probably one the most understanding girlfriend you'll ever have, but its not fair to her, sweetheart," Mary insisted, the humor gone from her voice. "You've spent more time with me this week than any other time before you were old enough to move out. What's wrong?" Dean shrugged nonchalantly, creating patterns out of the puddles of water on the marble counter top. "Nothin'," Dean said. His eyes rolled around in his head before meeting his mother's piercing blue gaze, a nervous chuckle managed to slip past his defenses and he cringed at the sight of a triumphant smirk on Mary's face.

A tired sigh rumbled in her chest, she placed her hands on his shoulders and began to message them. Dean focused on everything except his mother, he stared at the flecks of dried mud on his boots, the worn shoelaces coming apart at the seems. His mother's hand found its way to the side of his face, he relented at first, but steadily allowed her hand to turn his head back towards her. Her fingers messaged his scalp, a soothing technique she used since before he could remember. "Dean, baby, you've gotta tell me what's bothering you or I can't help you," Mary insisted. "Is it the nightmares again?"

"Mom, I haven't had a nightmare in three months," Dean said. "Yes, according to you," Mary replied, with just as much skepticism when she first asked what was bothering him. Dean's chest heaved with obvious frustration, chewing the tip of his tongue as he moved away from the sink.

Mary watched him silently, noting the way the muscles in his jaw tightened as his teeth grinded together. He paced around the kitchen rug for a few minutes, before looking back up her. His mood had done a complete 180; The smile returned though it made no effort to reach his eyes, for the first time he had come into the house, she noticed the bag in his hand. "What's that?"

Dean stared down at his occupied hand, suddenly remembering there was a bag in his hand. "Oh, this? Nothin' just a … late birthday present," Dean explained hesitantly. Mary moved away from the sink to join her son's side, she extended her hand as the plastic bag made its way to her. She listened to the plastic crinkle under her fingers, slowly she turned the hard, square object upward and reached into the bag. Mary reframed from letting out a squeak of delight. A shaky laugh rumbled inside her chest as she looked upon the cover of Midnight Liberation Zone with awe and disbelief. Dean watched Mary open the book, bringing it up to face to inhale the 'new book' sent wafting from the wrinkle-free pages.

He swallowed uneasily when she went still, her eyes staring off into the distance. Dean turned in the direction she was staring, he saw nothing out of the ordinary besides his father's extra baseball bat, that always remained in the umbrella-bin, and the jacket he forgot to take home with him last week. She shuddered, pulling herself out of her reverie. "Thank you for the gift, Dean," Mary said. "I didn't expect to get until Christmas at least!" Dean chuckled dryly at the joke, he wasn't so forgetful nowadays. Silence lingered around them now, Dean found himself unsure of what to say to Mary who continued to watch him with those concerned blue eyes. A uneasy chuckle from Dean broke the silence, Mary watched him message the back of his neck with a sort of grimace/smile, knowing what was to come next.

"I, ah, should probably get back to Cassie - I'll see you later, Mom," He started to say, taking a step backward.

"Dean-," The young man did not wait to hear what she had say, he made his way out of the kitchen through the living room. Mary followed him to the front door, she grabbed his jacket off the coat hanger as he unlocked the door. Taking a hold of his wrist Mary demanded that her son face her with a simple tug of his arm. Dean felt his throat tighten as he released the door knob from his grasp, turning slowly he kept his eyes blank when he.

"Dean, sweetheart, I'm here if you need to talk. I'll still be here to tomorrow," Mary whispered, a reassuring smile playing on her lips. Dean felt his heart skip a beat, he just stared at her for the longest time, trying to keep the reserved expression on his face. Finally he nodded his head and left the house, jacket in hand. Mary kept a vigilant eye over her son, whose back had yet to slouch from its taut position. He knew she was watching, until he headed down the near empty street of her neighborhood. Once he was no longer in her line of sight, Mary stepped back inside closing the door.

(Next: Act II: Tabula Rasa)