Hi again :) Hope you liked the beginning my newest story and here's the second chapter. I wanted to post it as soon as possible, because it has Dean in it and what Destiel story can you have without him? :)
So anyway, here you go and let me know what you think!
L.
Chapter 2 – First Dates
Saturday
It's always quiet at work on Saturday afternoons. There's usually a bit of the rush in the morning, because people want to get things done on Saturdays and if they need supplies, they come in early. Afternoons are quiet, eerie even. But I like afternoons, this is when I can work on my carpentry. Mark usually leaves something for me in the workshop in the back of the store and I spend my afternoons there. I'm actually cutting the ornament into the board that will become breadbox if I'm successful. I will be successful, I always am and this is not boasting, I think I just am a quick learner. It calms me, the carpentry. I'm thinking about my date with Emma a lot and I'm a bit anxious. I like Emma, but I'm not that good at making small talk, so I'm wary, but as I cut the ornament, it soothes me. The ornament I'm carving is somehow familiar. I don't know what it is or if I've seen it before, but it gives me that strange feeling of déjà vu. I see this image in my head and I want to transfer it to the wood. It's sun of sorts, I suppose, but there's writing on it. I feel I should understand what it is, but I don't and it frustrates me. I hope that when I'm finished I'd make sense of it, maybe will even be able to understand it. I'm so composed engulfed in my work that the jingle of the bell above the door startles me. I shake my head and grin at my own reaction. Honestly, I'm working at this shop!
"Just a minute!" I yell and put the board aside. I brush off the wood chips from my hands and jeans and enter the store. I look around and see a man standing by the hammer shelf, his back to me. He's tall and his hair cut short, almost a buzz cut. He wears jeans that look well worn, a jacket and heavy boots. I know he's not local, I've never seen him, and yet the way he stands tugs at me. There's familiarity I can't quite place. I clear my throat and he turns to face me.
The time actually freezes then. I know it sounds foolish, but I don't know how else to phrase it. I stare at him and notice things I don't usually notice - how his eyes are brownish green, how his lips are full and pink and his bottom lip glistens as if he just licked at it, how his Adam's apple bobs as if he tries to swallow, how he's got freckles scattered on his cheeks and most of all how he stares at me, those green eyes wide with surprise and shock and something I can't place. I stare at him and the wave of déjà vu stronger than ever before washes through me. I don't know him, it's the first time I laid my eyes on him, but it's as if I've known him my entire life. It's stupid, the things I think of while staring at him, but at the same time I know it's significant. I stare at him still and he stares at me. John has told me that if I notice I've been staring at someone that means I've been staring for way too long. He taught me to count to three whenever something catches my attention – this way I know when to drop my gaze. Apparently, I'm intense… I know I've been staring at this man way too long, it's long even for me, but he keeps staring just the same. Finally, finally I find my voice.
"Can I help you?" I finally croak and I'm surprised to hear the tone of my voice, low and almost husky. Something flickers in those eyes of his, but he still doesn't drop his gaze. Funny thing is I'm not uncomfortable; I could look at them infinitely.
"Salt." I hear him mumble. At least I think this is what he said, but I'm not sure, because it was barely there. If his lips wouldn't have moved, I'd think I imagined it. As it is I stare at his lips now. It takes me few moments to find my voice again.
"I'm sorry?" I finally manage and it sounds stupid to me. I can't seem to find it in me to tear my gaze off him, but he doesn't drop his either. He holds my eyes as he rumbles "I need rock salt."
His voice is so low it's almost growling. And just like that I think of earthquakes and mountains rising from the earth. What a foolish thing to think about. Finally, I tear my eyes off him and I let out a breath I wasn't aware I was holding. I shake my head and try to clear it. It feels fuzzy, the head of mine and I don't understand that feeling. There's something else different, but I can't put my finger on it. When I'm not looking at him, my head clears a little and eventually I start thinking again.
"We don't sell salt here." I tell him still not looking at him. "It's a hardware store, you know."
"Right." He agrees. "Sorry man, don't know what was I thinking."
The sound of his voice does something to me, I feel… I think I like it.
"It's ok." I tell him, but I resolutely don't look at him. "There's Wal-Mart just around the corner, you'll find salt there."
"Thanks." He mutters, but he doesn't leave, he just stands there. Finally, I can't stand it anymore and I raise my eyes to meet his. He's looking at me, just the way he did before and this is when it hits me. The hollow throb in my chest I've been feeling as long as I can remember is not there anymore! I stare at him, my eyes widening in shock, but as I do so I feel whole. For the first time I feel complete. I know this should frighten me, but it just doesn't. So I just look at those greenish eyes and let myself feel alright. Eventually I realize I have to say something. It's getting ridiculous how we just stand silently, looking at each other. So I say the first thing that pops to my mind.
"Have we met before?"
I think I startled him with my question, because it's now him who's shaking his head trying to clear it. It's him, who avoids my eyes.
"I don't…" He starts, but never finishes. "Who are you?"
Despite being as socially inexperienced as I am, I know this is not normal interaction between people. I mean I see people talk to each other, meet strangers, hell, I've met the town-full of strangers in this shop alone, but never did I get in the situation like this. And still the funny thing is it's not uncomfortable.
"I'm Emmanuel."
He actually grins at that and I find myself thinking I like his smile.
"Emmanuel?" He repeats, still with the grin. "It's a mouthful."
I smile at that. John always tells me I should smile more, especially when I meet strangers, because they say that it breaks tension. So I smile and I see his eyes dart to my lips.
"My friends call me Em." I tell him and for some reason that makes him laugh. And dear Lord do I like him laugh…
"Do you have a last name?" He asks suddenly and I can't help thinking this is such a strange question to ask. I mean I don't actually have last name, but everybody does. So how could he know I don't?
"Meyers." I tell him evenly. It's John's name and he said I could use it. My papers are now in this name. Emmanuel Meyers. They are temporary papers of course, police is still investigating who I am, but it's not likely they will ever find out. I mean it's been six months – if there was something to find out about me, they would have done it already.
"Ok." He nods. "Are you from around?"
I feel interrogated. It's crazy of course, I suppose he's just making a small talk after the whole staring thing, but I can't help but think it's questioning. It makes me much more uncomfortable than staring did.
"Yes." I tell him. It's not that I wanted to lie to him or anything, I just don't want to go into details of my appearance in this town. Emmanuel Meyers is definitely local.
He tilts his head curiously. "Ok." And we stare at each other again. His gaze is warm on my face and I like it. He looks at me as if trying to find something, but at the same time he just looks at me as if he knows me. It's strange and it should be uncomfortable, but it's not.
"Is there anything else I can help you with?" I ask finally, remembering I'm actually at work.
"Um… Yeah. Do you have a rubber hammer, by any chance? There's a dent on my car and I want to straighten it." He nods his head towards the window and I see his car. It's big and black and old. I don't know much about cars, but this looks… Again the déjà vu washes through me.
"I like your car." I tell him plainly. It's probably odd to say stuff like that, but I do like his car. He smiles at that.
"Yeah, you do! My baby's golden!"
I laugh and come closer to the hammer stand to find him a rubber hammer. I shuffle around for couple of moments, deciding what would suit the best and finally find the one I think will do. I move closer to give him the hammer and suddenly realize I'm closer than the counter width. I take a step back and smile apologetically.
"Sorry, didn't mean to invade." I tell him and see him tilts his head curiously. "I sometimes do that." I hand him the hammer. "Is this what you're looking for?"
He takes the hammer and his fingers brush along mine and we stare at each other again. This staring is unnerving, but for some reason I like it. Same as I liked the feeling of his fingers brushing along my hand. It's absurd, isn't it?
Finally he looks at the hammer and nods. "Yeah, it'll do."
I move back behind the counter and he pays for the hammer. I don't know what else to say, so I just stay quiet as I make an effort not to stare anymore. He's quiet for a while too, but then he sighs.
"I'll see you around, I guess." He mumbles and I look at him.
"Are you in town for long?" I ask him.
"Nah, just couple of days." He replies and it makes me inexplicably sad. I nod and then I realize I don't even know his name.
"You never told me your name."
"No, I haven't." He agrees and falls silent again. I think he won't and it's a shame, because I'd like to know his name. He speaks again.
"It's Dean. Dean Winchester." He looks at me and I think he's searching again. The name doesn't sound familiar and yet somehow it does. I realize why it sounds familiar a moment later.
"Hello Dean." I tell him with a smile, but my smile falters as I hear him suck in a ragged breath. It also falters because the way his name rolled off my own tongue is so breathtakingly familiar it startles me.
"Who are you, Emmanuel?" He asks suddenly and I frown at his question. "Never mind." He mutters. "And thanks for the hammer."
He strides off then and I'm standing like a fool watching him go. I want to call him, I want to stop him, but I don't know how. I don't have any excuses to make him stay and I'm not good at coming up with that kind of stuff, so I just stand and watch him go. As a bell jingles when the door closes behind him I sigh heavily. He's gone and I've done nothing to stop him. I probably won't ever see him again and it doesn't just make me sad, it actually almost hurts. I realize this as the hollow in my chest starts throbbing again. Who was he? Why do I react to him the way I do? Does he know me? I think he must've known me before, but then surely he would've said so, right?
The peacefulness of Saturday afternoon is shattered and I feel anxious and on edge. I don't want to go back to carving the board, because I know I'd mess it, so I just stand behind the counter trying to calm down and knowing it's not going to work. I feel shaken and I wish Brian was still alive, I wish I could talk to him. Tom's great, but I never spoke to Tom about who I am or what I feel, it's always been Brian I talked to. Not that I talked to him much, I'm a quiet sort of guy anyway. There's John of course, but I can't speak to him about this. John is like a father to me and even I know you don't really speak to your father about something like that. I could probably talk to him about my unease at taking Emma for coffee, but I could never talk to him about the fact that some guy came into the store today and left me confused and startled. I mean, what on Earth has just happened? Who is he? And most importantly, why do I care?
After work I go home and take a shower. I feel calmer now and the whole incident at the store feels a lot like a dream now. Not that I know what the dream feels like, I never really remember my dreams. I dress up in grey slacks and white button down. It feels weird to dress up, because I very rarely do. I go to John's church once a month or so, just to pay my respects to him – that was the only reason to dress up. Until now, that is.
The town I live in is small, so I don't really need to drive to pick Emma up. It's good, because I haven't passed my test yet and I don't have a car. The evening is warm though, so walking won't be an issue. By the time I reach Emma's house, it's five past seven. I actually enjoyed the walk, it calmed me down further. At some point I thought I heard someone behind me, but I must've imagined it, because when I turned to look, there was no one there. I knock at the door and a minute later Emma opens. She's smiling joyfully and I smile back.
"Come in." She says and steps back to let me in. I've never been to Emma's, so I walk in and look around. It's a nice place, very orderly. It's simple, small town home, but it's cozy and there's this feeling of family home you get every time you walk in to the house full of pictures and small details that scream 'family' at you. I like it. I wish my home would say 'family' some day, because right now all it says is 'rented by unknown'. Brian used to say I'm a walking mystery and my home gives nothing on me as well.
"You look very nice." I say glancing at Emma and she blushes slightly. I know you're supposed to compliment your date, I've seen it on TV. She does look very nice anyway. She's wearing a blue dress and it's the first time I see her in anything but jeans and T-shirt.
"Thanks Em. You look great too." She smiles. "Give me just a minute and we can go, ok?"
"Sure." I nod. "It's a bit windy outside, so don't forget a jacket."
"Yeah, all good." She's back up stairs and I look around. Emma doesn't have brothers or sisters, but she does have an impressive assortment of cousins by the look of the pictures. In every one of them, Emma's a tomboy – jeans and T-shirts and bruises form climbing trees or riding bikes. She's happy in those pictures and I think she must've had happy childhood. I wonder what I like was as a kid. Probably a nerdy kind of kid, because both Tom and Brian tell me I have all the qualities of a geek. I do too, I relate to the underdogs very well.
Emma comes back and I see she's wearing a jacket that looks really good on her. I say so and she blushes again.
"Let's just go, Em." She says and I offer her my arm. She looks at me for a second, but then she takes my arm and we walk out.
"Your father was not in?" I ask her. I thought it was customary for the father to come glower at the date.
"Nope, he's still at the shop. He growled at me a little for leaving early today, but I don't go on dates too often, so I just told him to get over it."
"He must be very protective of you." I tell her. It doesn't surprise me that much, not after what happened to Denis and Brian.
"Yeah… You know I thought you'd bail on me, you know?"
"Why's that?" I ask surprised. I mean I didn't get around to taking her out for a long time, but if I say I'd do something, I always do that.
"You know… After Brian… I know you were friends."
I nod. Yes, it makes sense. "I can't help Brian anymore. I wish I could, but I really can't."
She looks at me surprised. "Of course you can't. Why would you even think about it?"
"Because I'm really sorry for what happened to him and I wish there was something, anything I could do."
Emma rubs my arm sympathetically. "I know. I'm sorry too, I liked the guy. He was real joker, but he was decent sort of guy."
"Yes, he really was." I agree, but then I don't want to talk about Brian anymore. It hurts to think of him and I'll have tomorrow to say good bye to him, so I just change the subject.
"I'm glad we're finally doing this." I tell her, because it's actually true. To me, it's the first date I ever had. I know it's likely not true, I mean I'm in my thirties or so, but I don't remember ever being on a date and I think it's high time I went out.
"Me too." She laughs. "You are hard to get though!"
I laugh too, because in a way it's true, I've been promising to take her out for a long time. We reach the coffee house at last and I walk her in. Unsurprisingly everybody turns to see us and they stare unabashedly. It's a small town and everybody knows everybody. I don't care much; I'm a staring kind myself, although usually not for the same reasons. It's worse today, because it's both of us. Nobody ever saw Emma or me on a date. Emma because she's very private person and she's told me she only goes on the dates outside the town, and me, because I simply never been on one. I think Emma suggested coffee house because she knows I don't drive and she didn't want me to feel bad, but it's hard on her. I feel her squeeze my arm and I place man hand on hers with reassuring squeeze.
"We'll go to the booth, ok? And they can't really stare all night."
"It's ok." She mumbles, but I know it's not. I lead her to the booth and make sure she sits with her back to the crowd. It's not much of the crowd anyway – twenty people tops, but I know she's uncomfortable and I want her to relax as much as she can.
We order coffees and I take cherry pie while she asks for some ice cream. I like pies and cherry is my favorite so I think we're on a good start.
We chat a little while we sip our coffees and eat our deserts and Emma starts relaxing visibly. It's easier than I thought it would be. Emma knows me quite well, so it's easy to find things to talk about. I tell her how I had to endure Star Trek marathon with Brian, because for some unfathomable reasons he loved it and I owed him one for the Lord of the Rings. She laughs at that and tells me about the time she had to endure Sex and the City marathon with one of her girlfriends. I haven't even heard about Sex and the City and we both laugh when she tells me I haven't missed out at not having heard about it. All in all it's a pleasant and easy evening and I'm having a really good time.
That is, I'm having a really good time until I notice the coffee shop go a bit quieter and I see him walking in. Dean. My eyes fix on his automatically and I notice how his fix on mine. We stare at each other as he sits at the table too far from me to hear him. Our staring is broken as someone walks between us and I notice he's not alone. He came with a big, very tall man who now sits in front of him. I use this moment to focus on Emma again and I smile at her. I'm at a loss of what I should say next, I haven't heard her last sentence.
I'm sorry?" I mumble and she chuckles.
"Dozed off for a moment there?" She asks and then repeats. "I was saying we should go see World War Z when it's out. I heard it's really cool."
"Yes, it sounds good." I agree absently. I just can't seem to concentrate. "What is it about?"
Emma starts talking again, but I just don't hear her. Instead almost involuntarily my eyes find him again and I'm startled to see he's still looking at me. The man in front of him turns to see what is he looking at and I look at him. He has a kind face framed by the hair that is slightly too long. It doesn't matter though, because what I stare at is the expression on his face. It's pure shock mingled with anger and something else I don't understand. Dean is reaching and grabbing his arm. I see he's talking fast and angrily to him and I feel I'm invading. And that's saying something, because I don't usually feel when I'm invading. I try to focus on Emma again, but it's so distracting, knowing he's right there. It's absurd really, how much I react to his proximity. I don't even know the guy, for crying out loud! But the mere thought of him being there tugs at me. What is happening to me? I've never felt this way before. Who is he and why do I react to him so strongly?
I excuse myself and go to the bathroom. Emma is startled by my abrupt departure, but she smiles at me anyway and I feel a little better looking at that smile. I smile back at her, before I go. I'm lucky I don't have to pass their table on the way to the bathroom, because is in other side of the coffee shop. I don't really need to use the bathroom, so I just lean over the sink and splash some cold water on my face. I have to pull myself together, but I don't even know what it is that makes me so restless. I mean I know it has something to do with him, but it's the first time I feel anything like this and I just don't know what to do. I sigh heavily and take some paper towels to dry my face. When I look up I almost jump startled, because he's right behind me, looking at me from the mirror. I whirl around and I'm facing him.
"Hey." He mutters. "I didn't mean to scare you."
Somehow I think he's amused as if he's enjoying a private joke. I don't feel amused at all. I feel confined. He's not standing too close or anything, but I still feel the walls close in on me. I think this is what claustrophobia feels like and I don't like the feeling.
"It's ok." I mumble and I try to get past him. I don't understand my own reactions. A moment ago I wanted to come closer to him, but now all I want is to flee, to get away. Inexplicably I wish I could just disappear. The things I think of in stress! I'm almost past him, when his hand darts and his fingers close around my wrist. I stop immediately and look down at his hand.
"Hey, just… Just wait a moment, ok?" There's plea in his voice and I just like that know I'll stay.
"What do you want?" I ask and he lets go of my wrist. He rubs absently at his eyes and then looks at me and I know he's at the loss of what to say. He doesn't seem to be a man of many words.
"Look, man, you remind me of someone I used to know. I know I've been acting like a fucking moron, but…"
So that's what it is. Of course, it must be it. I remind him of someone; that makes sense. And yet I can't help but feel utterly and inexplicably disappointed. I actually thought there was something about me that interested him. And suddenly it's a light bulb moment for me – I'm interested in him! I scowl at myself inwardly – isn't it an excellent moment to realize you are interested in someone when that someone tells you that you remind him of somebody else? I pull myself together. At least now I know what's going on.
"It's ok, I figured. Sorry to disappoint you though." I start walking again, because standing here close to him starts to be difficult.
"Wait." He says again and I halt despite really wanting to get out of there. "Jesus, you can't be him!" He growls suddenly and I know there's pain here. He's hurt and I'm always so uneasy with people being in pain that I flinch back a little.
"I'm sorry." And I am. I wish there was something I could do to make him feel better, but as always – there's nothing I can do. Then he shifts and he's in my bubble. John told me about the bubbles. He says everyone has his bubble of personal space – some are bigger, some are smaller. Apparently mine is really tiny, because I keep invading others'. But now he's in my bubble and I freeze. He rests his forehead against mine and I just can't move. My breath hitches and I can smell him – he smells of fresh coffee and mint and car oil with the tiny hint of sweat too. It's such a masculine smell, but it overwhelms me. My head's starting to swim and I can't concentrate on anything but the feeling of him so close to me.
"Dammit Cas, is that you?" He whispers and I hear despair in his voice. I feel sorry for him, I really do, but at the same time I can feel my body react to his proximity the way I'm really not used to. I want to wrap my arms around him and make him feel better, keep him safe and just… Just plain keep him. But it's not me he's seeing when he stares at me. So I tense further to pull myself together and I push him away gently.
"I'm sorry Dean." I tell him and momentarily I'm distracted by the way his name feels on my tongue. I carry on. "I'm Emmanuel, not somebody else."
He looks at me for a moment longer and then nods.
"Sorry, you must think I'm crazy." He laughs shakily.
"No, I just think you lost someone dear. I'm sorry for your loss."
"Yeah, ok." He mutters and I know the moment's over. He's clearly not an emotional type of guy. "Sorry for the drama."
I know he's not going to talk more, even though I don't know why I'm so sure. I take a step back to have a counter width space between us.
"I'll just go back to my date now." I tell him and even to me it sounds lame. Brian often said I sound lame and I think I started recognizing it even though I didn't stop sounding lame. He looks at me then.
"You're on a date?" He asks and shakes his head. "You're definitely not him."
I don't know how to reply to this so I just shrug and walk away. As I approach our booth I think I should have probably said bye or something, but at the same time somehow I think saying good bye is not my thing.