Disclaimer: Sam, Dean, Bobby, and any original canon belong to Eric Kripke and the CW. Lines from episode 2x1: "In My Time of Dying" belong to writer Eric Kripke. The lyrics to "I Want You Back" belong to The Corporation.
Tawny belongs to me.
Oh baby give me one more chance
Show you that I love you
Won't you please let me
Back in your heart
Oh darlin' I was blind to let you go
Let you go baby
But now since I see you in his arms
I want you back
At first Tawny thinks she's hearing a large bug. She'd been dreaming about one, so, naturally, it's the first thought that pops into her mind. Then she rises into the twilight between wake and sleep and realizes she's in bed at home. She snaps to full consciousness when she hears her father talking loudly as he comes up the stairs.
She jolts out of bed, grabbing the phone off of her bedside table as it once again begins to vibrate. She sees its Sam calling and her heart drops. She flips the phone open and puts it to her ear.
"Is he dead?" she asks quickly, walking over to grab a pair of jeans off of the desk in the corner. Sam sighs and she pauses. "No," he finally answers. Tawny takes a deep breath. "But it's not looking good, Tawny. You need to get here." She can hear the defeat in his voice and she angrily yanks on her jeans.
"I'll take the first flight and get a car at the airport," she says, switching the phone to her other ear to hold it on her shoulder as she grabs a bag off of a hook on her closet. Sam sighs. "Okay. Just… hurry, okay? I don't think he has very long," he says, and she can almost hear the tears flowing. She manages to choke out a goodbye and has barely closed the phone when the sobs take hold.
Suddenly, Bobby is banging on her door. "John says there's a flight to Jefferson City leaving in 45 minutes. I already booked you a seat," he says loudly. Tawny stands, taking a few steps to unbolt the locks and pull it open. She wipes her face and clears her throat, not looking her father in the eyes as she grabs a few shirts and another pair of jeans to shove in her bag. She circles the room, grabbing a few things here and there, feeling her father's eyes on her back.
She brushes past him quietly, heading into the bathroom to grab some toiletries when he finally speaks. "He's going to be fine, sugarbee. I promise," he says softly. Tawny pauses with her hand on the open cabinet door. "I don't know about that, daddy," she manages to say before her throat closes with another sob.
She feels his hand on her shoulder and she turns, burying her face into his chest. He hugs her close until she stops crying and pulls away. She finishes throwing what she needs into her bag before heading out of the bathroom. She runs down the stairs, skipping every other one.
"Here's the flight info. Call me when you get there," Bobby says, handing Tawny a piece of scribbled-on paper. She glances at it before grabbing her father in a tight hug. "Thanks, daddy," she whispers, kissing his cheek. She grabs her keys and runs out to her truck, the night air crisp as it blows her hair back. She quickly throws open the door and flings her bag into the cab, following it closely. She sighs and pushes her hair behind her shoulders before turning the ignition and speeding off towards the airport.
Sam is waiting for Tawny when she gets to the hospital. She jumps into his arms, hugging him tightly as they both take in the feeling of being close again. Two nurses are watching them closely as Tawny pulls away from Sam.
"How is he?" she asks, hitching her bag up higher on her shoulder. Sam looks at his feet before looking back up into her eyes. "Well, the doctor says that he's got some internal trauma that will heal, but only if he wakes up," he says quietly, putting a hand at her elbow to lead her down the hall. Tawny stops, looking up at Sam.
"You mean 'when'. When he wakes up," she says. Sam stops, too, looking down at her.
"Yeah," he finally replies. "…when." Tawny doesn't like the far-off tone his voice has. She remembers he had that tone when they were kids and he wasn't sure John would make it back alive.
Tawny's thoughts fade when they reach an open door and Sam walks into the small room. Tawny stands in the doorway, staring at the bed with wide, tear-filled eyes. Her breath catches in her throat as her eyes follow the tubes from the machines to where they stick out of Dean. Suddenly, everything goes fuzzy and she slumps against the
door was open when Tawny woke up. Sam was no longer by her side. She sat up slowly, rubbing her eyes. That's when she saw a shape come in and she grabbed the rifle lying just behind the dust ruffle. She cocked it, standing slowly. "Don't move," she said, aiming the gun at the shadow's head. Its arms went up, one flipping on the light switch to reveal a slightly tipsy Dean.
"It's just me, Angel Pants," he said, hiccupping as his eyes traveled down to the hem of her tank top. "Or should I say lack-of-pants." One eyebrow shot up towards his hair line and he grabbed the doorknob, swinging the door closed nonchalantly as he walked towards her. She lowered the rifle, rolling her eyes before replacing it. She jumped when she felt Dean's hands on her hips, playing with the lacy garment hugging them.
"Oh, soft," he said quietly, his right thumb sliding in to caress the skin of her hipbone. She groaned, closing her eyes as she stood and turned, putting her hands on his chest and pushing him away. "Dean, you're drunk," Tawny said. She had to use all of her strength to even get him to move, and she knew if it came to it she would barely have the strength to drag him into bed.
Dean grinned down at her, his hands sliding to her rear. "And you're legal," he whispered, pushing his lips roughly onto hers. He was right; she had turned 18 a week ago, which made him, what? 21? 22? She couldn't think when his lips were suckling her neck like that. She licked her lips, trying not to moan, and tasted the scotch he'd been drinking. That pushed her back to reality and she once again pushed at his chest.
"No, Dean. You know I'm not like that," she said, straining to get him to move. "You want it, baby. I can tell you want it bad. Sammy told me," he said quietly, running his tongue up her neck. She pulled away, a pit of fear forming in her stomach when she realized he out powered her immensely. He kept pulling her back to his chest only to have her fight him, and she realized she wasn't going to win. He finally lifted his head to kiss her mouth when she slapped him.
The sound reverberated through the room like a gunshot, and they both stood staring at each other. His green eyes wide with surprise, hers filled with fear, and he let her go. She watched as he took a few steps back, lost his footing, and tumbled into the side of the other bed. He fell, his full frame smacking into the hardwood floor with a loud, angry BANG. "Oh, my God," she gasped, covering the distance in less than a second. "Are you okay?" she asked, grabbing his shoulders as he sat up. Dean looked up at her, a hand on his forehead, and he was silent for a moment. "Dean…?" she asked again quietly, putting her palm to the bright red print on his cheek.
"I'm sorry…" he finally whispered, his lower lip trembling, and Tawny knew he was bound to be more emotional in his inebriated state. She shook her head, her eyes glancing down to a spot on his chest before bouncing back up to his eyes.
"No, Dean. You don't need to be," she said quietly. Dean looked at her with confusion when the corner of her mouth turned up in a grin. "I know how sexy I am," she giggled, and Dean couldn't help but smile at her. They stared for a long time at each other before Tawny finally came to her senses.
"C'mon, Dean. Let's get you into bed," she said, pulling him up by his forearms. He settled into the bed, sighing as she slid his shoes and socks off while he pulled off his jacket and shirt. Tawny blushed when she saw just how muscular his chest was.
She made sure Dean was lying down before turning the light off. Tawny had just settled back into bed when she heard Dean roll over and say her name. She thought he was dreaming until she heard him get up and walk over to her bed.
"Scoot," he said, waving his hands in a shoveling motion. Tawny sat up, obliging. She smiled when he cuddled up to her back, shoving his knees up behind hers and wrapping his arm around her waist. He finally settled when his face was buried in her curls.
When Tawny's eyes flutter open, she's staring into a fluorescent light. "Tawny?" she hears from her feet, and she looks up to see Sam. She sits slowly, realizing she's in a green sleeper chair. John is watching her from his hospital bed a few feet away.
"You're alive!" she yells, throwing herself out of the chair and into John's good arm. She hugs him closely, trying to force down the lump in her throat. "He's going to be okay," John whispers as if he can read her mind. Tawny nods, pulling away and wiping her nose. "I know," she breathes, inhaling as she settles into the mattress. Sam looks between them as if he's trying to decide whether to talk or not.
Tawny sighs. "Spit it out, Sam."
"Fine," he says, putting his hands on his hips. "I'm going to try to find someone to heal Dean. I've done it before, and I'll do it again." John stares.
"Sam, you know those guys are one in a million. You'll never find a true solution in time." Sam scoffs at his father, looking at Tawny for help. When she doesn't offer any, he speaks again.
"Dad, I just need to –," John cuts him off.
"No, Sam, you don't. You need to go get the Colt out of the Impala before someone else finds it," he says. Sam fumes, circling the bed. For a moment Tawny thinks he's going to walk out, but then he turns and yells "It's all you care about, isn't it?"
Tawny stares, wondering if she can make a run for the door without either Winchester noticing. Thankfully, John offers her a chance. "Tawny, I'd like a word with my son," he says quietly, his eyes not leaving Sam. Tawny quietly rises, crossing the room. She quickly leaves, thankful that Dean's room is only one over. "Round two," she whispers, pausing again at the door.
She takes a deep breath and a step at the same time, not feeling dizzy in the slightest. In fact, the beeping of the heart monitor is mildly soothing. She glances around the room, spotting a chair in the corner that she pulls up to the left edge of Dean's bed. She sits, warily looking at all of the machines before picking up Dean's hand.
"Hey, Dean," she says quietly, leaning forward to put her elbows on the edge of the bed. She takes a shaky breath, looking up to try to will the tears back. She loses, her eyes misting over as she looks at Dean's face.
"I'm so sorry. I should've been there," she sobs, pressing the back of his hand into her cheek as she cries into his side. She sits there for a long time, just holding his hand. What Tawny doesn't know is that if she were to look up in the window she would see that Dean is, in fact, sitting right next to her, his hand on her back, his own tears falling because he can't wipe hers away.
Tawny's tears eventually stop falling and she simply sits there in silence, not letting go of Dean's hand. She doesn't even look up when she hears footsteps behind her.
"Tawny?"
Sam sets his hand on her back, moving it up to her shoulder as she leans back, stretching. "Hey, Sam," she says quietly, turning her head to look away for the first time since she'd stopped crying. Sam squeezes her shoulder.
"Your dad's here," the tallest Winchester says. Tawny stands. "Where?" she asked, peering around his shoulder. Sam grins, shaking his head. "No, I didn't mean here. He came to tow the Impala back to your place."
Tawny nods. "Give me a minute to clean up," she says, turning towards the bathroom. She's taken a few steps before Sam speaks.
"I thought you'd want to stay with Dean," he says, looking down at his brother before looking back at Tawny. She pauses, looking at Dean, too, before looking back up at Sam.
"I need to see my dad, let him know I'm okay," she says, resuming her path to the bathroom. She closes the door, turning to look at her reflection in the mirror. She rinses her face, drying it off with a paper towel before turning and walking out.
Sam is in the chair, just staring at Dean, when Tawny walks up behind him and puts a hand on his shoulder. "Ready?" he asks quietly, turning around to look up at her. She nods, rubbing her arm. She wonders why she didn't grab a jacket when she left the house. She glances over at the pile of clothes Dean had been wearing and spots his jacket on top.
"Hey, Sam?" she asks. He pauses at the door, looking back at her. She looks at him hesitantly. "Do you think Dean would mind if I used his jacket?"
Sam looks at her and smiles. "No," he replies, getting a smile from Tawny in return. She walks to the end of the bed and grabs the jacket, sliding it on. She looks at the sleeves, rolling her eyes when she sees that they cover her hands completely. She looks up to see Sam watching her with a huge grin on his face.
"You're such a midget," he laughs, shaking his head. Tawny glares. She rolls the sleeves up as she walks out of the room, hitting Sam as she passes him. "We prefer the term 'little people', thank-you-very-much."
"Oh, man. Dean is gonna be pissed…"
Tawny looks up at Sam, then back to the Impala. The sight of it makes her want to cry, partially because she knows how much she means to Dean, and partially because it breaks her heart to see such a perfect piece of machinery turned into junk. She slowly walks towards it, stopping when she's on the driver's side of the back seat. She peeks in, sees the blood staining the white leather and has to turn away knowing it's Dean's blood.
"Look, Sam, this – this just ain't worth a tow," Bobby says, lifting the hood to look under it. When he sets it down, it tilts up, completely torn away from the body of the car. Tawny looks from her father to Sam, who's pulling his destroyed laptop out of the backseat. Bobby huffs before continuing.
"I say we empty the trunk, and we sell the rest for scrap," he suggests gently, looking from Tawny to Sam. Sam pulls the cover of his laptop, sees how useless it is, and drops it on the ground before looking up again.
"Dean would kill me if we did that. When he gets better he's gonna want to fix this."
Bobby circles the car, pointing out problems as he goes. "There's nothing to fix. The frame's a pretzel. The engine's ruined. There's barely any parts worth salvaging," he reasons. Tawny puts her forearms on the roof, speaking for the first time since she got in the car at the hospital.
"Dad's right, Sam. I know how much he loves this car, but it's just not a car anymore," she says softly, looking at her father. He glances at her as Sam speaks.
"Listen to me, guys. If there's only one working part, that's enough. We're not just gonna just give up on…" Sam looks away as his speech drifts off. Tawny looks down at her hands, tears filling her eyes. She knows what Sam is doing; psychologists would call it projection, she just calls it trying to keep hope. She looks back up at Sam.
"Okay, you got it."
Tawny walks over to Bobby and he puts an arm around her shoulders, kissing her forehead. They're silent for a moment before Sam pulls something out of his pocket. He unfolds a piece of crumpled paper, passing it across the roof of the car.
"Here… um, dad asked if you could get this stuff for him."
Bobby pulls his arm away from Tawny, grabbing the list and scanning it, Tawny reading it over his shoulder.
"What's your dad want with this?" Tawny asks, looking from the list to Sam. He shrugs. "Protection from the demon."
Tawny and Bobby look at each other, then at Sam, who looks at them, confused. "What?" he asks. Tawny shakes her head. "Nothing, Sam, it's just, uh," she starts, shoving her hands in her pockets as she looks at her father for answers.
"Bobby, what's going on?" Sam asks, turning his gaze from Tawny's downturned gaze to Bobby. When Bobby doesn't answer either, Sam sighs, annoyed. "Oh, come on! I'm so sick of the damn secrets! Just fucking tell me!" he yells, and Bobby and Tawny both look up. Sam never drops the F-bomb. Ever. Which is exactly why Tawny takes a deep breath and grabs the list from her father's hand.
"This stuff, Sam, it's not used for protection. Essence of Wolfbane, Ashes of a Lesser Saint, goat's blood… They're used to summon a demon, not keep one away," she says, handing the list back to her father. Sam stares her down, making Tawny nervous with the amount of fury brewing behind his eyes. "Sam, say something…" she pleads quietly, crossing her hands over her chest. Sam fumes, running his hand roughly through his hair.
"I knew it. I knew he'd do this," he mutters angrily. Bobby clears his throat. "So, uh, do you still want me to get this stuff for him?" he asks carefully. Sam's arm drops to his side and he taps his fingertips against his thigh, a sign Tawny knows all too well means the wheels in his big head are turning. Finally he speaks.
"Yeah. If he wants to do this, fine. I don't care anymore," Sam says, jutting his chin out to feign strength. Tawny, however, knows otherwise. Sam glances at her nervously, almost asking if he's doing the right thing. Tawny bites her lip, turning to Bobby.
"You think you can get all this stuff while we eat? I'm starving and Sam… Well, Sam needs to gain a few pounds, quite frankly," she says, walking around and poking Sam in the ribs. He playfully swats at her hand, a lopsided grin she's missed adorning Sam's mouth. When she looks back at her father, he's watching them with a melancholy grin on his face.
"You two haven't changed," he says quietly, and Tawny's grin fades a bit. Before she can say anything, Bobby clears his throat and taps the list. "Anyways, yeah, I'll have this stuff in about an hour. I'll meet you back here," he says, walking around to the side of the car Sam and Tawny are on. Tawny hugs him, kissing his cheek. "Thanks, daddy," she whispers in his ear, not talking about the list at all. He grunts, clearly not wanting to do the mushy father-daughter thing in front of Sam. She pulls away, grinning at him. They watch as he climbs in his truck and drives off before getting back into Tawny's rental.
"So, I saw a diner down the street," Sam suggests. Tawny looks up at him, wanting so badly just to hug him and tell him that everything will be okay, that Dean will make it out alive because that edema has no clue who it's fucking with, that John really does love him and Dean, he just doesn't know how to show it. But she only nods, shifting the car into drive and heading out of the lot.
Sam is quiet for the ride back to the hospital. He hadn't talked much when he and Tawny were eating. In fact, he'd only spoken to thank Bobby. By the time they've gotten into the elevator at the hospital, Tawny's worried that he might kill John. Her fears aren't relieved when they walk into his room and Sam goes over to the window, a storm of fury brewing behind his eyes. John looks at Tawny, nodding towards his son with a look of confusion on his face. Tawny tilts her head to the side, all but saying "You know exactly what's wrong." John ignores the look and stares at Sam's back.
"You two are quiet," John says simply, and Tawny looks at him, her eyebrows raised in disbelief. She's working at finding the right words to say when Sam turns, throwing the duffle Bobby had given him onto the floor.
"You think I wouldn't find out?" he yells, livid. John only stares at him, turning to look at Tawny for a moment. "What are you talking about?" he asks nonchalantly. Tawny scoffs, earning a glare from the older Winchester.
"That stuff from Bobby," Sam accuses, his voice still a few decibels louder than usual. "You don't use it to ward off a demon – you use it to summon one. You're planning on bringing the demon here, aren't you? Having some stupid macho showdown!"
"Guys," Tawny warns, but they ignore her.
"I have a plan," answers John. Sam is quick to retort.
"That's exactly my point! Dean is dying and you have a plan! You know what? You care more about killing this demon than you do saving your own son," Sam spits, his eyes boring into John's. Tawny stands.
"Sam!" she says. "Sam, you know that's not true!"
But John interrupts her, seeming to be deaf to her defense.
"Do not tell me how I feel. I am doing this for Dean," he says. Tawny opens her mouth again, but Sam is yelling before she could get out a syllable.
"How? How is revenge gonna help him?" he demands, looming over his father. "You're not thinking of anybody but yourself. It's the same selfish obsession!" Tawny marches around to pull Sam back.
"Stop it!" she yells, pushing on Sam's chest. He acts like he doesn't even notice her existence, glaring at his father over Tawny's head. John groans irritably. "Tawny, get out of here. Go to Dean's room – this really doesn't concern you," he says through gritted teeth. Suddenly something sparks in Tawny's chest, anger shooting to her bones, and at that moment she wants to hit John. She spins, staring down at him.
"None of my concern? Don't give me that shit, John Winchester! Your boys came to me to save your goddamned life and I helped, even after everything that happened between us! Then Sam called me and I got on a fucking plane and came down here to do what I could to help! And what do you do? You use me to trick Sam! And guess what? I'm still here, so don't you dare tell me that this isn't any of my concern!" she yells. John stares at her, his eyes narrowing.
"Notice it wasn't me that asked for your help?" he says icily. Tawny backs up a step, tears stinging her eyes. "And you, Sam, you know what's funny? I thought this was your obsession, too. This demon killed your mother, killed your girlfriend. You begged me to be part of this hunt! Now, if you had killed that thing when you had the chance, none of this would have happened!" he finishes.
"It was possessing you, dad! I would have killed you, too!" Sam yells back. Tawny turns, a tear falling on her cheek as Sam and John continues to fight.
"Yeah," John says emphatically, "and your brother would be awake right now."
Sam steps back, falling into line with Tawny. "Go to Hell," he says quietly. John only chuckles deprecatingly. "Oh, you know what, I should have never taken you along in the first place. I knew it was a mistake!" he yells.
Suddenly there's a loud crash as a glass of water flies a few feet and lands on the floor. The three of them stare at the broken glass on the floor before looking back up at each other. Before anyone can say anything a woman's voice comes over the PA and a crowd of nurses and Dean's doctor run past the open door. John looks between them.
"Something's going on out there," he says, nudging his chin towards the door. Tawny and Sam both turn and run out the door, Tawny grabbing the frame as she swings to the left. Her stomach drops when she sees they're in Dean's room with a crash cart.
She feels numb as she watches them shock Dean, trying to get his heart to beat again. By the third shock Tawny can't watch anymore and she turns, burying her face in Sam's chest. There's so much she wants to tell Dean. So much she wants to apologize for. She hears them doing CPR, and she hears Sam's voice low in her ear as he plead to some higher power with a simple "No". Then, finally, blessedly, she hears the stead beep of a heartbeat.
"What's in the bag?"
Tawny's looking up at Sam. She'd stayed in Dean's room after his close call, sitting in his chair and talking to him. She knew it didn't help him much, but it helps her more than anything. If she's talking, she doesn't have to think about what she'd being doing if he hadn't bounced back.
"Uh, I'll tell you in a second," Sam says, walking up next to where she had pulled the chair over to the side of Dean's bed. He glances at her hand where it rests in Dean's and she slowly pulls it away, wiping it on her jeans awkwardly. Sam speaks again, but not to Tawny.
"Hey," he starts, staring at his brother. Tawny stands, her heels clicking too loud on the linoleum floor. She stops at the foot of the bed and Sam continues.
"I think maybe you're around. And if you are, don't make fun of me for this, but, um, but there's one way we can talk."
Tawny watches him pull an Ouija board out of the paper bag and her eyes widen. "Sam," she warns quietly. Sam looks up at her, perplexed at her obvious fear.
"What?" he asks, stumped. Tawny shakes her head, crossing her arms over her chest.
"I don't do Ouija boards," she says simply. Sam chuckles, glancing at Dean.
"Why not?" he asks. Tawny scoffs, uncrossing her arms and putting them on her hips.
"Uh, did you not see The Exorcist? Sorry, but there's no guarantee it would be Dean on the other line and I'm sure Captain Howdy would love to have a chat," she says incredulously, raising an eyebrow. Sam clears his throat.
"Alright, it may not be a guarantee, but tell me you don't feel him. Like he's here, standing close by, watching you."
At that moment Tawny suddenly feels a warmth on her back and she glances around, seeing nothing. He had a point, she did feel something. She isn't positive that it is Dean, but she's leaning in that direction. She sighs, rolling her eyes before walking towards him.
"Fine. But if anything freaky happens it's your fault," she says, poking Sam in the chest as he crosses her path. They both sit down, Tawny letting out a long breath.
"What's with the Lamaze?" Sam asks, raising his eyebrow at her as he takes the lid off the box, tossing it on the floor next to him. She glares.
"Shut up and get on with it, Linda. We don't have all night," she reminds, waving her hand at him. Sam smiles briefly before taking the board out of the box.
"Dean?" he asks. "Dean, are you here?" He sets the board down on the floor, grabbing the pointer and offering it to Tawny. She puts her hands up and laughs sarcastically.
"Pfft, no. Get to it, psychic boy," she says. Sam shrugs, setting the pointer down. He's only had his hands on it for a moment when it moves up, covering the "Yes" on the top left hand side. Sam gasps, looking up as he spoke.
"Oh, it's good to hear from you man! It hasn't been the same without you, Dean."
"Very funny," she says, shoving Sam's shoulder. He looks at her, his eyes wide. "Tawny, I swear it wasn't me. I swear," he insists. Tawny's glare fades and she glances around. She sighs loudly, rubbing her forehead.
"I feel like I'm at a slumber party séance…" she mutters. "Dean," she says clearly, looking up. "Dean, if you're here, and if you really are Dean…" She looks at Sam, her eyebrows high.
"If you really are Dean then you know how much I hate these things. I think it was you that chucked that glass across the room, so do something else. Touch me or something," she offers, glancing around. Suddenly, and without any warning, Dean's jacket lifts off of the back of the chair and falls to the ground. She looks at Sam, her eyebrows raised, and that's when she feels a hand on her knee. She looks down and nothing is there, so, naturally, she gasps and shuffles over to Sam's side before she can help herself.
"Okay, okay! I get it!" she says, raising her hands. Sam looks down at her, a smile plastered across his face. Suddenly Sam looks down and they watches as the pointer moves across the board.
"H…U…" Sam recites, then the pointer falls on N and Tawny raises an eyebrow.
"Hunt?" she asks, looking up at Sam. He glances at her.
"Are you hunting something?" Sam asks, and once again the pointer slides to "Yes".
"Dean," Sam continues, his voice showing his excitement. Tawny can't help but be a bit excited herself, but she's trying to keep from having an irresponsible amount of hope. After all, things have turned worse under seemingly better circumstances. She's pulled from her thoughts when Sam speaks again.
"It's in the hospital, what you're hunting? Do you know what it is?"
Tawny watches the pointer slide around the board, her heart falling with each letter revealed.
"R… E…A… P…" she whispers, suddenly knowing exactly what it is. She looks up at Sam, shaking her head. "The Reaper?" she asks quietly. The tears come again when the pointer slides to "Yes".
"Dean, is it after you?" she asks quietly, her voice breaking. The pointer doesn't move.
"If it's here naturally there's no way to stop it," Tawny says, looking at Sam.
"Man, Dean, you're, uh…" he starts to say, but then he stops, shaking his head. "No. No, no, no. Um, there's gotta be a way." He stood, heading towards the door. "Dad will know what to do."
"Sam," Tawny calls after him, watching his back as he leaves. "Sam, don't you leave me alone in here!" She looks back at the board, turning it towards her.
"Uh, so, Dean… What do you wanna do while Sam's gone?" she asks, rubbing her hands together before putting her fingertips on the pointer. Her eyes widens as she felt it being pulled, sliding over letters almost effortlessly.
"F… U… C…" she recites. "Dean Winchester!" she yells when it lands over the K. She stands, shaking her head. She walks over to his bedside, looking down at him.
"When you wake up, you pervert, I'm so gonna kick your dumb ass."
It doesn't take Sam long to get back with John's journal, and the first thing he mentions is that John isn't in his room, which worries Tawny slightly. Sam opens the journal and immediately starts reading, so Tawny goes down the hall to get a cup of coffee, letting Sam do his thing in peace. She walks back slowly, pausing when she hears the book slam shut. Sam starts speaking, so she stays out of eyesight, listening.
"Dean, are you here?"
She hears Sam sigh before continuing. "I couldn't find anything in the book. I don't know how to help you. But I'll keep trying, alright? As long as you keep fighting." She hears a sniffle and has to blink back her own tears.
"I mean, come on, you can't…" he starts again, chuckling. "You can't leave me here alone with dad. We'll kill each other. You know that. Dean, you gotta hold on. You can't go, man, not now. We were just starting to be brothers again."
Sam stops, and Tawny thinks it's the perfect time to walk back in, so she wipes away her tears and rounds the corner just as the unexplainable happens. Dean shoots up, coughing and gagging against the tube down his throat. Tawny looks up at Sam, frozen with shock. Sam, however, shouts for help.
Three Days Later
Tawny's on the couch in the study when Dean comes downstairs for the first time since he'd gotten back from John's makeshift funeral. He'd only gotten out of the hospital that morning, Tawny managing to convince the hospital to release his body to her. She didn't mention the hearse she had belongs to a funeral home across town. She'd helped Sam and Bobby put his body in the back of Bobby's tow truck, ashamed of how they had to cover him with a tarp. Dean had watched her closely as she carefully tucked it around his head, apologizing.
He'd been silent on the drive back, too. Sam had ridden with Bobby, not wanting Dean to have to ride with his father's body, so Dean sat in the passenger's seat of Tawny's rental, only speaking once, when he told Tawny they needed to pull over. Then, when they got home that night, Sam and Dean took John's body out to the woods behind the house and cremated it. Tawny and Bobby both offered to help build his pyre, but the boys refused, wanting pay their father this last respect. So they stayed in the house that night, Bobby pretending to watch TV, Tawny pretending to read, both so lost in their thoughts they only realized Sam and Dean were back when Dean had put his hand on Tawny's shoulder. He'd stayed in the room across from hers, the one he'd usually shared with John when they came to visit. She brought him food, but he didn't leave the room. Not for two days.
But now he's walking across the room in a clean shirt and pair of jeans, his feet bare. He smiles faintly at Tawny, who returns the gesture. "Hey," she says softly, sitting up and patting the seat next to her. Dean takes it, squeezing her knee as he sat.
"How're you doing?" she asks, crossing her legs and sliding a hand up to his shoulder. He shrugs, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He turns to look at her.
"Fine, I guess," he says, but Tawny can hear the pain behind the words. She nods, though, knowing Dean isn't exactly into sharing emotions. They hold eye contact for what seems like hours before Dean finally speaks.
"Do you think we could ever, uh, you know, be together?" he asks, looking away shyly. Tawny's eyes widen, completely taken aback. She closes the book she is reading, and stares at the cover for close to a minute before answering.
"Do you want the truth Dean?" she asks, finally looking up at him. He rolls his eyes, leaning back.
"Yeah, that's why I asked in the first place," he teases. She smiles faintly before turning so she's facing him, her shins pressed into his thighs.
"Okay," she breaths. "Honestly? Yes, I do think we could be together. Dad would hate it, and he might try to shoot you… again. But, yeah, I think if we both try at it, we could be together."
Dean stares back at her like she'd said the exact opposite of what he expected. She raises an eyebrow at him, silently urging him to say something. She's relieved when he finally does.
"I was expecting for you to, uh, throw something at me or… something…" he confesses, rubbing the back of his neck and averting his gaze. Tawny grins, putting a hand on his knee and pushing herself up. She reaches out her hand and he takes it, smiling up at her as he stands. Tawny gasps when he suddenly grabs her waist and surges at her, pressing his lips to hers in a powerful kiss. It only lasts a few seconds, but Tawny feels the weight of the world in it. He pulls back, a grin on his face, and Tawny shakes her head.
"Well, when you want something you're just a go-getter, aren't you?" she whispers against his mouth. He chuckles and takes her hands in his, leaning his forehead against hers.
"So, where's my car?" he finally asks. Tawny can't help the lump that forms in her throat. He still hasn't seen the damage to the Impala and she really doesn't want to see the look on his face when he does.
"It's out by the garage," she replies, looking up at him. "Dean… I have to be honest, it's pretty bad." She pulls away from him to look straight into his eyes. He grins.
"Well, duh, Sherlock. It was hit by a semi," he says. She shrugs and turns to walk out. "Don't say I didn't warn you then, smartass," she calls over her shoulder. Five minutes later they're weaving through junk cars on their way to the garage. Bobby is in town, probably buying more liquor, and Sam is… Tawny has no idea where Sam is.
When they finally make it to the car, Dean stops. Tawny glances up at his face, immediately regretting it. She watches as a lone tear falls down his cheek before he slowly circles the car, shaking his head. He's made it back to the hood and is peeking under it when Tawny walks up behind him, placing a hand on his lower back.
"Um, dad says you can use anything in the garage… Anything we don't have, he'll get for you," she offers, stepping back as he drops the hood. He looks around, walking away to grab a jack from inside the garage.
He's positioning it at the back of the car when Tawny puts a hand on his shoulder.
"You don't have to do this alone, Dean."
She's sure he thinks she only means the car, but he stares up at her, wrapping a hand around her calf gently.
"Yeah, yeah I do, Tawny," he responds softly. She nods, trying to will her tears back.
"Well, uh," she clears her throat. "If you need anything you know where to find me."
Dean nods, going back to what he's doing.
Dean is shocked at how many locks Tawny has on her door. He's glad she's moderately safe, but, damn, eight locks? She'd only had three when he was here a year and a half ago. Dean pauses when lock number six gives a loud screech, glancing up and down the dark hallway to make sure Sam nor Bobby heard it. He listens closely for any sound signaling someone noticing the noise, but all he hears is the drone of the TV downstairs and snores coming from the room across the hall where Sam is spread out on a sofa bed.
When he deems it safe he continues, grinning mischievously when the bolt finally gives with a small snap. "Ha," he breaths quietly. "Gotcha, ya little bastard." The last two give easily, the bolts sliding away smoothly and quietly, with no fight whatsoever.
Dean grasps the knob, slowly turning it, wincing at a squeak that never comes. As soon as there is a crack large enough for him to squeeze through, Dean ducks into the room shoulder first, closing the door quietly and slowly behind him. He stands there for a moment, letting his eyes adjust to the dark. When they finally do, he glances around the room, seeing that it's arranged exactly the same as when he left. It's just as messy, too.
His eyes bounce from dresser to desk to night table before finally resting on the bed, where Tawny is buried under a mound of blankets. Dean can't help but chuckle, remembering how she used to crank down motel room air conditioners while on hunts, claiming she could always pile on more blankets, but she could only take so much off. A pair of large glowing eyes is watching him from the foot of the bed, and Dean panics for a moment before he realizes that it's a cat.
He takes a step forward, pulling back his lips in a grimace when a floorboard creaks. The cat jumps, vaulting off the bed to go cower under the desk, while Tawny only sighs in her sleep and rolls over onto her back. Dean breathes a sigh, slowly inching forward, grateful when the floor is silent, and he makes it to the edge of the bed without any more interruptions. He stands for a moment, just looking at the woman sprawled out in front of him. He's amazed at how much she's grown. He remembers her through childhood, first with pigtails and Oshkosh overalls, her cheeks chubby and adorned with freckles, then as an awkward tween, her hips skinny in too-big pairs of jeans and pulling at an uncomfortable training bra when she thought Dean and Sam weren't looking.
But now, now she's a woman. An honest-to-God, fully matured woman. And Dean can't help but hate himself a little for thinking that they have an expiration date.
Dean is drawn from his stupor when Tawny groans in her sleep, her arms stretching above her head as she arches her back. She slowly turns her body, her eyes fluttering open a fraction of an inch. Apparently that's enough to see the dark figure looming over her bed because the next thing Dean knows, a sharp pain shoots through his groin as her foot connects with it.
He bows forward, holding his damaged goods and wheezing. Tawny scrambles over to the edge of the bed, turning on a lamp. Dean closes his eyes against the harsh light, groaning slightly. "Dean?" Tawny asks, rubbing her eyes. Dean only groans again, nodding.
"What the hell are you doing?" she asks quietly, and somehow Dean knows she's glancing at the door worriedly. Then, with an edge to her voice, she demands "And how did you get past the locks?"
Dean finally glances up at her, his eyes still misty from the pain. She looks angry, yet almost angelic at the same time. Her hair is a complete mess; curls stick up at odd angles, some are wound together, and it's parted deeply to one side. Her eyelids are drooping, showing just how tired she is, her cheeks are lightly flushed, and her lips are red and swollen. He groans again, feeling a noticeable twitch beneath his hand through the pain.
Tawny stares at him incredulously for at least thirty seconds before heaving an exasperated sigh and throwing the covers back. She rolls her eyes, swinging her bare legs out of the bed to stand. Dean straightens as much as he can, grabbing Tawny's upper arm as she tries to pass him. She looks up at him, her brown eyes large and shining.
"Ice?" she says simply, pointing towards the door. Dean shook his head, only managing one word. "Bed," he says quietly, tipping his head towards it. Tawny watches him for a moment, and Dean thinks her eyebrows might knit in concern, but Tawny only shrugs.
"They're your balls, not mine," she says matter-of-factly, turning around and climbing back into the bed. She almost seems surprised when Dean climbs in next to her, clenching his eyes shut and letting out a hissed breath when his legs close a bit too tightly for comfort. The bed jostles and he feels Tawny slide down next to him. He looks at her when she puts a hand on his thigh.
"You okay, Dino?" she asks, that concern he thought he'd see a minute ago finally adorning her soft features. Dean nods, reaching up to brush a curl from her forehead. "Yeah," he answers quietly, his finger drifting slowly down her soft cheek. A faint smile appears on her full lips, parting them in a way that makes Dean's breath hitch in his chest. They stare at each other for the longest time, their eyes flicking back and forth, chocolate brown battling bottle green, almost as if they're trying to find one another's souls.
Dean's the first to look away, afraid that Tawny can see right through him, can see his weakness for her, and he doesn't think there is anything worse on this planet than showing weakness, whether it be physical or emotional. So he turns his attention to the lamp instead, turning the small knob until it clicks, once, twice, then off, bathing them in darkness.
Relying on touch, Dean reaches out blindly, finding the edge of the sheet and pulling it over him. He feels Tawny shift again, burying herself back into the blankets while simultaneously scooting closer to Dean. He extends his arm, letting Tawny rest her head in the crook of his neck. "'Night," she mumbles, yawning widely before sighing. Dean mimics the sigh before breathing his own "Goodnight" into her hair. Yeap, he thinks, closing his eyes, I'm in trouble…