I've been playing with this idea for a while and I haven't written anything in so long I thought what the hell. Supernatural has always been my go to when writers block hits me. So, here's my take on the mysterious ring on Dean's finger…
Forever and Almost Always
Dean found himself in another bar. This one had a little more class than some of the dives he'd frequented over the past few years, but the happy hour made the beer cheap and the girls drunk. The case he was working with Sam allowed him access to a better selection than under usual circumstances. If he was being honest with himself, he'd say it was the better quality alcohol that drew him here.
Out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of someone familiar. Her light brown curls and deep hazel eyes were unmistakable. He finished the last of his drink before he turned to get a better look.
There she was. Dark green lace corset tied in the back, tight black pants accenting every curve of her body, and she stood on a pair of sharp, slick black heels. He didn't want to admit it, didn't want to believe it was actually her standing there in the smoky corner. If he didn't know better he'd say he was having a nightmare.
She clung to the arm of some guy in a suit, nibbling on his ear as she tried to coax him toward the back exit. For a fleeting moment her eyes connected with Dean's and that's when he knew that it couldn't be anyone else. Meredith's pale lips smirked at him before the man left with her.
It finally happened. Dean was going to have to face what he did in hell, starting with how Meredith was able to escape.
SpnSpnSpnSpn
Meredith liked to think that she could get herself out of any situation without the help of anyone. It was a rare occurrence she asked for assistance in anything, especially when it came to the supernatural. She'd been in the game longer than most of the hunters she met in passing. That was all except one.
How she knew she could trust John Winchester was a mystery, but he was the only one she could call about this. Staring down at the cell phone in her hands, she was already regretting pressing the green call button. The only number she had for the Winchesters was Dean, John's oldest son and the biggest mistake she ever made in her twenty-three years.
She thanked whoever was looking out for her, while she left the brief message only saying how important it was that they meet her outside of New Orleans. Flipping the phone closed, she sat heavily on the top step on the porch and reached for her bottle of Jack. Her hands were shaking as she looked out across the expanse of land, no light but the full moon hanging low in the sky. She'd never been afraid, not like this. It was a terrifying sensation to look out into the darkness and not know what was watching her.
"Meredith, open up." She heard pounding on the door, and she instinctively reached for the gun under her pillow.
She moved down the halls quietly, not touching a light as she made her way down the stairs to the front door. It occurred to her that maybe it was time to move her sleeping arrangements to a more convenient location in the expansive mansion she called home.
"Who is it?" Her voice was hoarse from the amounts of alcohol she consumed throughout the night before finally passing out.
"It's Dean, you called me yesterday." Flinging the door open, she had never been more disappointed to see someone in her life.
"Where's John?" He pushed passed her, taking in the glamorous planation she was staying in. "Dean, where's your dad?"
"He's working another case, I was closer. You said it was important. What's going on?"
"Nothing you can help me with, I need John."
"Try me. I'm not as dumb as you think I am."
"Years of experience tells me that's a false statement. This is life or death, Dean. I need someone I can trust."
"Why can't you trust me?"
"We met once. I helped you and your dad with a hunt after we slept together. I don't know you, Dean."
Meredith lay back on the plush couch in the corner of the living room. A howl rang out through the darkness around them. She couldn't help but tense up at the sound. There was no telling what could've made that sound. She was just praying it was a wild dog.
"Hell hounds," she says with a deep sigh. "I need to get rid of some hell hounds and I only have ten days."
She sat up just in time to watch his expression flash from horror to stone. It was impossible, she knew, but with the right help she might have a fighting chance.
"Why are hell hounds after you, Meredith?"
"I have no clue." She saw his unbelieving look, suddenly feeling defensive. "I'm not an idiot. Do you really think I'd make a deal for my soul? Give me a little credit Dean."
"If you have the hounds of hell after you, what else could've happened?"
"I don't know. That's why I called for help."
He looked at her, truly seeing her for the first time since walking into the house. He'd only met her two years ago, and instantly knew that she was a force. The girl sitting in front of him now was only an echo. Meredith tried to wipe the tears out of her eyes before any chose to fall. A small part of him wanted to take her into his arms and tell her everything was going to be okay, but he knew she'd never let him get that close to her. Not again.
"Jesus, say something Dean. Can you help me or not?"
"Yeah," his voice came out huskier than he would have liked, holding back the emotions that were forcing their way to the surface the longer he looked at her. "I can try."
They spent the first three days doing nothing but research. She had set them up in the library, one that was filled with more books than Dean had ever seen on the supernatural. A part of him wondered if even Bobby knew about some of them. Dean had tried several times to get John to come meet them, but every message went unanswered. There was little time devoted to sleeping, and Meredith only ate whatever Dean brought back for her. He knew she was afraid, but he didn't know how to fix it.
"When I six," she said while he was devouring a cheeseburger. They were the first words she'd said in four hours. "Our neighbor had this huge dog. It must have been a Rottweiler or something. Big and black with these huge teeth, I was terrified of it. After my parents died, I thought I'd never be afraid of something as normal as a dog."
Dean saw the slight tremble in her hands as she lifted a fry to her lips. "How did they die?"
"Werewolf," she laughed though there was no humor in it, only a cold irony. "Something about this whole thing seems fitting."
"I'm sorry, Mere." The concern in his eyes brought a genuine smile to her face.
"Don't be. It's a shitty situation, there's not a lot you could do. I don't even know why I called."
"Don't give up." He told her. Meredith slowly got out of her chair and crossed over to him. "What are you doing?"
"Making the most of the week I have left." She said, lips grazing against his. Carefully she lowered herself onto his lap, straddling his legs. "You were a pretty good ride, if I remember correctly. Although I was really drunk the last time we did this."
"I'll refresh your memory." He told her before crashing his lips to hers.
Meredith lay across his chest, absently drawing shapes across his damp skin. The sun was beginning to set, light streamed in through the window as they lay on the long couch in the library. It had been months since she had been with a man. Something told her that this was probably going to be her last. She caught her mind going back, running through old memories. One stuck out, almost a mirror image of the moment she was in.
"Do you remember the first time we did this?" She asked, propping herself up on his chest. A smile played on her lips as she stared into his green eyes.
"You weren't as limber back then." He teased, pulling her by the neck down to his lips.
"I woke up the next morning hating myself for letting you take me home." She smiled down at him. "That was the worst three days of my life."
"If I'd known you were a hunter I never would have picked you up."
"Sure, that would've stopped you." She laughed. He silenced her by bringing her mouth to his again. In one careful motion he was on top of her.
Meredith found that it was easier to ignore what was coming for her when she had Dean to pass the time with. She may have thought he was just like every other hunter she'd ever come across, but there was something different. He was gentle, and forceful in all the right ways. She found herself actually craving his touch when she'd gone too long without it.
"You grew up doing this, hunting?" She asked. She was lying across the bed watching as he cleaned the bag of guns he'd brought with him. It must have been a nervous habit he'd grown into over the years.
"Yeah, my brother and I traveled with our dad." He risked as glance at her, receiving a big smile from her. "I was five when he started."
"Jesus, you were a baby. I can't imagine knowing about this stuff at such a young age. Were you ever scared?"
"At first, then you just get used to it."
"And your brother, does he still hunt?"
"No, he's at Stanford. He chose the college route. Sammy was always the smart one."
"You're not so bad." She said crawling over to his side. She kissed his bare shoulder as she moved to sit behind him. "Do you miss him?"
He reached up and wrapped his hands around the wrists she locked across his chest. "Sometimes, but I know he wanted a normal life. I'm happy that he gets that."
"Damn, you're not at all what I expected."
"Just don't go around telling everyone. I have a reputation to maintain."
"And what if I do?" She whispered against his ear.
"There would be some serious punishment." She giggled as he reached around for her pinning her to the mattress. "What are your thoughts on bondage?" He smiled down at her.
She reached over the side of the bed, and pulled up a scarf. "Kinky."
His laugh died on her lips as her arms pulled at his neck down, deepening the kiss. In one sweep his weapons were scattered on the floor. She smiled into the crook of his neck as his lips moved down her jaw to her collarbone. He stopped moving his lips against her skin as her stomach let out a long, low growl. He glanced up at her, a surprised smile playing on his lips.
"When was the last time we ate?" She asked.
"Long enough, I'll run out and get something."
She watched as he searched through the room for his clothes. Something they didn't bother with was keeping the place clean. An evil grin spread across her face as she saw the keys to the Impala lying on the floor next to the bed. In one swift move she picked them up and took off before he realized what was happening.
She ran through the old lavish house, Dean hot on her heels. It had been a joke at first, but she found that she couldn't give in now. He would have to catch her if he wanted his car keys back. They were out of food and almost booze, and he was going to make a run into town. Not wanting to be left alone, it was childish, but she hadn't had this much fun in what felt like years.
"Mere, come on. This stopped being funny two staircases ago." He called after her.
"What, are you a little out of shape there Dean-o?"
"No," he said before he lunged at her.
Quickly she jumped up on the couch bouncing on the springs trying to stay out of his grasp. He eventually caught her around the waist and pulled her back to the floor. She tried wiggling out of his arms, but every move was easily anticipated.
"Finally," he said as he took hold of the keys. She was still held firmly against his side. "Come with me?" She nodded with a smile plastered on her face.
There was a strange sense of ease that settled over the pair as they walked through the streets of New Orleans. Neither knew which made the first move, but Meredith was tucked into Dean's side an arm around his middle as he held her around the shoulders. He held a bag of junk food and beer in his free hand, while her fingers fumbled with the hand he had on her shoulder.
For a moment they were both catching a glimpse of what normal life would feel like. To the passersby, they were just like any young couple in love. Meredith risked a glance at Dean, catching his stare. He pulled her closer, his hand drawing her neck towards him. She didn't want to admit that his kisses were beginning to be addictive.
"Do you want to grab some food? And just to clarify, I mean real food. I can't eat another bag of Cheetos if they were the last things on earth." Meredith asked as she searched for a restaurant.
"Yeah, but let's get it to-go." He leaned down closer to her ear. "I really want to get you home."
"Maybe Cheetos for dinner won't be so bad." She said as she pushed him against the side of the Impala.
With the research put off to the side, the two spent more time in bed with a bottle of Jack than any book that could help Meredith out of her situation. The days ticked by, and they decided it was easier to ignore the inevitable than stare at research that said there was no way out.
"Best city a hunt took you too." Dean asked as he watched her line up to take out one of the empty bottles on the other side of the porch.
"Liberty, Nebraska." She laughed as the glass shattered. "It was this little interstate town, but God, it reminded me of home. I loved it. I told myself that one day I when I decide to stop hunting, I'd live in a town just like that."
"Sounds cozy," he said, failing at hiding the sarcasm in his voice.
"You never think about it? There has to be something that would convince you to stop hunting."
"I couldn't live some apple pie life knowing what's out there. The things we hunt are never going to stop."
"Well, I guess I'll never know now." She smiled at him, but the shine in her eyes didn't go unnoticed.
"I wish you'd stop saying that." He told her as he took her face in hands. She could tell that he was going to say more. Reassuring words, he'd try to convince her that everything would be okay, but she didn't give him the chance. She closed the distance between them, wanting the comfort of his warm body against hers.
"Dean," she whispered against his bare shoulder. There was a chill in the air they lay naked, wrapped only in a thin blanket on her bed. "Thank you for trying."
He turned to look down at her, only catching a glimpse of the tears that were falling from her eyes. His arm tightened around her as he felt the cold tears hit his chest. He could smell the vanilla shampoo she used as he buried his face in her messy curls, trying hard to hide the tears that were threatening to fall from his own eyes. He kissed the top of her head, pulling her more securely in his arms.
It wasn't until the tenth day that Meredith finally admitted defeat. She sat on the porch watching the sun set for what she was sure would be the last time. Dean came out and took a seat next to her. His arm fell behind her, hand instinctively resting on her hip to keep her close. She glanced first at his hand then into his green eyes.
"I think you should go." She said calmly. "There's nothing else you can do, and I'd rather not have you here when they come for me."
"You don't have to do this alone."
"Yes, I do. I don't want you to see me like that. They will tear me to shreds and there's not a damn thing you can do about it. I'd like to go out with a little bit of dignity."
"If that's what you want." He said bringing both his hands in front of him.
Meredith bit her bottom lip, watching him. It had been less than two weeks and it had been the most honest relationship she'd ever had. Quickly, she stood up and headed back into the house. Moments later she came back, sitting a little closer to him than before.
"I want you to have this." She held out a silver ring. He looked at her with drawn brows. "It was my dad's. I've been wearing my mother's since her death, and I always told myself that the man I spent the rest of my life with would wear his."
She held up her right hand and showed a smaller but identical ring sitting delicately around her finger. Carefully he took it from her hand and stared at it. He couldn't bring himself to put it on. Meredith took his hand in hers and slipped the ring on his right hand.
"You're the last guy I'm going to have, Dean. I want you to have this. A token for trying to help a lost cause." She kissed his knuckles where the ring was now sitting. "You're an amazing guy, Dean. I was lucky to spend these last few days with you."
"Let me stay." He said, nearly pleading. This time he wasn't afraid to let her see the glossiness in his eyes.
"No," she swallowed back tears before kissing him. "I already packed everything you brought. You're duffle is in the Impala. I've got less than an hour."
One last time, he brought his lips to hers. Their faces were wet from the tears they'd shed, but it was the cool feel of metal on his neck that Dean focused on. He knew she felt the same from where his new accessory met her cheek. He didn't want the moment to end. He knew then that given the option, he'd stop hunting if it meant that he could spend every day for the rest of his life with her, this sweet, spontaneous, and sultry woman.
"Save me a spot," he whispered before breaking away from her.
"God, I hope I don't see you again Dean Winchester. I wouldn't wish that on anyone."
He drove down the dirt path from the house, stopping just short of the main road. There was a pull in his gut that wanted him to turn around. Even if he couldn't save her, he might be able to give her a fighting chance. He heard a shot ring out followed by the enough to empty the magazine. Every shot felt like it was hitting him. After silence settled over the night again, he put the Impala back in drive and tried to forget the past ten days ever happened.
I hope everyone enjoyed it! I'm working on a sequel so drop a review and tell me what you think.