Okay, so I lied. I didn't post this chapter within a couple of days of the last one. Bad writer! (Slaps wrist) Trying to work this in around the pile of papers I have to write for school can be a bitch, and I backed myself into a corner with some pretty important deadlines last semester by putting them on the backburner in lieu of creative fulfillment. I vowed I wouldn't write as much this term, but it's a slippery slope and once the inspiration hit me about a day ago about where I would take this story, that promise pretty much got shot to hell.
I was also completely floored that there was no witch hunt after the death of Obadiah. I had braced myself for outraged readers and there was not one scathing review. Guess I'll have to go after someone else. Mwaahahahahahah!!
On with the insanity. Enjoy.
Dean sighed in relief when he turned the water faucet on and hot, steaming water beat down on him. He braced himself against the shower wall with his palms and stood like that for a long time letting the water course down his body in rivulets.
After Natalie had left the night before he had gone straight upstairs and no one had stopped him. He had lain on the bed silently for a long time simply staring at the ceiling, and when his dad had cracked the door open he had closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep, not wanting to deal with anyone. John hadn't disturbed him and he hadn't bothered him that morning either, merely watched his son with sympathetic eyes as he met him in the hall on his way downstairs. Dean had grunted a greeting and then shut the door to the bathroom.
In truth, Dean really wasn't angry. He didn't know what he was. He just….he cursed silently and slammed a fist against the tile. Rubbing hand over his face vigorously, he angrily yanked the faucet off and reached for a towel. He stepped out and smeared a clean spot off the mirror and looked at his reflection. He needed to shave, but with his current mood he really didn't give a damn. He also needed a haircut, given that it was beginning to stick out at the ends and over his ears and figured he'd have Missouri do it while he was in. It lent him a youthful appearance, but other than that it drove him up the wall. The last time he'd had his hair that long and longer was after his accident. It had grown out in his months in the hospital and rehab, and the only reason he had kept it long after that was because Natalie had always tangled her fingers in it when….
Quickly banishing those memories from his mind, he tossed his towel into the corner and pulled on his jeans. Then he yanked his shirt over his head and shook excess water from his hair before pulling open the door. Sighing heavily he went back to his room and sat on the edge of the bed and pulled on his boots.
"You can't just run to the garage and hide."
"Missouri, go away and stay the hell out of my head," he growled not even looking up.
The wizened black lady only crossed her arms. "Your tough man act don't work on me."
He pushed his pant leg back down over his boot. "This isn't an act. I want to be left the hell alone." He stood. "It's bad enough I'm gonna have a redhead gunning for me now, the last thing I need is you constantly on my ass."
"This is your battle Dean, I'm staying out of it," Missouri said calmly. "But you can't hide from Jason. Or Natalie. You need to face this."
"I know. And I will."
Missouri seemed to accept this. "You know you have an entire family here, right? We've always been here."
His face softened and he nodded.
"I've got some coffee brewing downstairs. And your brother's sleeping in his room so you leave him alone." She pointed a finger at him as she turned to go. "If I see you so much as stick one toe inside his door, I'm gonna bust you upside the head."
He grinned as he followed her out of the room. The faint snoring coming through the door at the bottom of the stairs was almost too much to resist and he paused on the last step. The room had been his when he had first returned to Lawrence because of the accessibility for his wheelchair and the connected bathroom. It had been one of the major reasons Missouri had bought the house. As soon as he had been able to walk again he had moved his room upstairs and eventually Sam had claimed this one as his own when their father had taken the empty guest room upstairs.
He put his hand on the knob, but Missouri called from the kitchen, "I have a frying pan within reach."
Sighing with disappointment, he dropped his hand and moseyed into the kitchen. John was leaning on the counter reading the paper and Missouri had the fridge open and was grabbing the milk. "I can whip you up something to eat," she said.
He went for the cabinet directly over the coffee pot and grabbed a mug. "Coffee'll do."
He poured himself a cup and took a sip before trudging out to the garage without another word. When John and Sam had begun considering Missouri's a home base, John had rebuilt the garage and made it his own. Strangely, he felt no resentment towards his father. They shared a love of working with their hands and some of the best memories he had were of the two of them bent over the Impala in a motel parking lot sharing a laugh or a beer.
He pulled up the door and flipped on the light switch. Sam had pulled the Impala in the night before and he figured he might as well do some maintenance on his girl.
oooooooOOOOooooooo
Half an hour later Dean was crouched in front of the car sliding a pan under it when she appeared. He didn't notice her until she was standing beside him. "Do all men go into a trance like you do when you change the oil?"
He jumped and fell back on his ass. "Son of a bitch," he cursed. "You startled me."
"Obviously."
He climbed to his feet and turned his back on her. "You just being coy, or are you here because you have something to say?"
The good-naturedness disappeared. "You're one to talk about being coy," Natalie snapped bitterly.
Dean spun around and for a good minute they just glared at each other until he slammed his hand down on the workbench. "I guess we never did get to hash things out completely, did we?"
"I guess we didn't. Good, cause I'm in the mood for a fight," Natalie threw back.
"I didn't come back here to scream at you!" Dean forced out through gritted teeth.
"I know! You wouldn't have come back at all if Sam hadn't broken his leg! Did I really mean so little to you?" She crossed her arms. "You were so hurt after your family left you here and you did the same thing to me!"
"I had to leave! And I seem to remember you didn't have any problem walking away after I fucked you for the last time!"
"I was trying to walk away before I couldn't!"
"Well, you didn't do it soon enough!" Dean brought his face within inches of hers. "Your wedding day wasn't the best timing!"
Natalie's lower lip quivered and she relented. "I know. And now I'm paying for it."
The anger completely drained from Dean's body in that moment and he stepped back. Natalie turned away without looking at him and paused momentarily like she was going to speak again, but then decided against and disappeared.
Dean slammed the hood closed on the car and then swung the driver's door open and threw himself into the seat. He sat staring stonily ahead for a long time and didn't even acknowledge his father open the opposite door and slide in next to him. John didn't say anything, just offered him the beer he held out in his hand. Dean raised an eyebrow but took it and cracked it open. John did the same and both sat in silence for awhile.
"You know how early it is?" Dean asked, finally taking a sip. "I didn't even have breakfast."
"Sometimes you just have days where you need to start early."
"What I don't need is a lecture."
"I know."
Dean nodded and took another drink. "You know I lost a really good friend in Jason," he said softly. "Something I have far too few of in the world."
"I know. Our lifestyle has never been easy," John said. "But hunters are lonely by choice, Dean. I know from experience. It's not easy to have friends, but they make what we do easier to bear. Don't alienate someone who truly cares about you because you can't let go of the past."
"My past is always going to be apart of my life."
"Which is why you need Natalie. She stood by you even after the fiasco with Paul Mitchell. She opened her home to us and let you back into her life, knowing what it could do to her relationship with Jason. She knows about some of your past and she still cares about you."
"I know all this, Dad!" Dean growled. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "That's why I feel even more like crap. All this is my fault."
"Don't give yourself too much credit," John commented wryly. "Natalie made her own bed."
"Yeah, and I was in it." He looked sideways at his father. "Are you ashamed of me?"
"You've done a pretty good job of punishing yourself." He took Dean's empty can. "No one is perfect, son. Not even your mother was, though she was pretty damn close. When I was able to realize that I was able to see things a lot more clearly. I think you will too." He opened the door and slid out. "Finish changing the oil and then go for a ride."
oooooooOOOOooooooo
It was close to noon before Dean worked up enough nerve to pull into a parking spot in front of Patty's. The little bell clanked when he opened the door and Natalie looked up from where she was behind the counter refilling a customer's coffee cup. Her eyes narrowed but gave no other outward sign of anger.
He sat down on a stool at the end where he was relatively isolated and grabbed a menu, though he knew it by heart. Natalie came over and slapped a paper pad down on the counter.
"Where's Patty?" Dean asked peering over her shoulder into the kitchen.
"On lunch break," she answered stiffly not looking at him. "Had to run over to the pharmacy. So either order from me or starve."
"I'm sorry," he blurted out.
"Does this mean you want a burger?"
"I didn't mean to yell at you."
She met his eyes and sighed and slowly nodded. "Yeah, me neither."
"And I'm really sorry. For everything."
"It's both our faults. We both hurt each other."
"So does this mean you're not angry with me anymore?"
She smiled and put a cup in front of him in answer and grabbed the pot of coffee she had put back on the warmer.
Dean picked at the end of a napkin contemplatively while she poured. "What could we have really done anyway, you know? We went in completely different directions. Do you really think we could've ever had a place in each other's lives again even if I had stayed? I think we were both trying to wash our hands clean and start fresh."
Natalie shrugged and pressed her lips together. "Sometimes it's not that easy."
He frowned and wanted to ask what she meant, but their bond was tattered and they no longer shared their thoughts or feelings. Instead he took safer ground and asked, "So, how long has it been?"
"About four months. It had been coming for a long time though."
He grimaced.
"It's okay though, really," she continued half heartedly. "I moved back into the house and Patty's going to make me manager. And I have Ben."
Dean smiled. "And Ben," he repeated. "He's a good kid. You know, as much as a two year old can be anyway."
"Yeah, he is."
"I could talk to Jason," Dean offered.
"Dean…there's nothing left to say," Natalie whispered with a sad smile.
"No, I guess not," he said looking into the dark liquid of his cup. "I'm going to talk to him anyway. I have to. For me."
She bit her lip nervously, but nodded. "Just none of that "three paces and draw" crap, okay."
"Okay." He threw down a ten and stood. Good coffee. I'll see you later."
She smiled and slipped the money in her apron and nodded. He left the little diner feeling like a burden had been lifted, but it was quickly replaced when he put the Impala in gear and turned her in the direction of the Anderson farm.
The story is finally going to start rolling from here. It took me forever to figure out how to get here, because I don't want to rush the story along. Tell me what you think so far. I want to get more reviews for this story than I did the last. I might have to add some smut if I get really desparate.