Pulling in the parking lot of the motel, you grab the bottle of wine from the passenger seat, slamming the door harder than need be. You open the door to the room, slamming the door behind you, throwing your keys as hard as you can at the pillow on the spare bed, open the mini-fridge and shoving the bottle of wine in to chill. Spinning on your heel, you come face-to-face with a very serious, very unsure Sam. Hands up in defense and all.
"Are you okay?"
"Fucking fantastic," you snap angrily, crossing your arms across your chest. "I drove around forever, couldn't find Baby anywhere, and ended up running into Dean and Lorelai at the liquor store."
Sam sat down cautiously on the edge of his bed, his eyes curious. "And? Find out anything interesting?"
"Yeah," And all of a sudden, your emotions shift again from anger to overwhelming sadness. Eyes welling up with tears, you brush a hand angrily across your eyes. "You were right. He doesn't remember me. But he was trying. He asked her how he knew me, and she lied and then he looked back at me as if he knew she was lying, but she grabbed his face and his demeanor changed and…and…"
Breaking off, you shake your head, turning around so Sam doesn't have to watch you cry. He's silent for a few minutes before he says softly, "He definitely sounds cursed then. So let's make a plan."
Taking several long breaths, you nod and take the seat opposite Sam. "So we pretend to be a couple, sit through an incredibly painful dinner, then attack?"
"Sort of. More like I hold back Dean and you take out the witch"
Nodding slowly, you let out a heavy sigh. Tonight was going to be among the worst nights of your life. But if it meant getting Dean back, you'd go out swinging. There was no way in hell you were letting her keep him. Wiping tears away from your eyes again, you stand, "I'm going to take a shower."
Thirty minutes and a great cry session later, you exit the shower, drying your hair, making it a smooth as possible. Makeup is applied with a careful hand, with constant reminders that your makeup won't stay if you're crying while you're trying to apply it. Then you step into a black dress, the lace one that accentuated your curves perfectly, accented your skin beautifully, dipped in the front and the back, hit above the knee…And required someone else to zip you up. Slipping out of the bathroom, you edge toward Sam, turning away.
"Sammy? Zip me up?"
Silence settles in the room as Sam zips your dress, then touches your shoulder for you to turn and face him. In heels, you're just below chin level with Sam. His eyes watch you carefully before he says, his voice just above a whisper, "We'll get Dean back, I promise. And for all it's worth, you look beautiful." And before you can reply, he pulls you into a crushing hug. "Ready?"
Making sure to grab the wine from the mini-fridge, you follow Sam to your car, where he so chivalrously opens your door for you. Fidgeting in the passenger seat on the way to Lorelai's, you ask as the two of you pull into the driveway, "Did you get the knife?"
Sam laughs, shutting off the car. "Kind of the most important thing about tonight, don't you think? Of course I did."
Rolling your eyes at Sam, but finally managing a smile for what feels like the first time in weeks, you step out of the car, teetering for a moment in your heels before reaching for the wine. Then shutting the door and standing straight, you fix your dress with one hand, then smooth your hair, glancing up at Sam nervously. "I still look okay, right?"
"Perfect." And before you can panic any more, Sam takes your hand and leads you to the front door where you chew on your lip nervously while waiting for someone to answer the door. It was a cute house, you admitted to yourself grudgingly. Small, French cottage like house. Stone on the outside, yellow and white flowers in the flowerbeds, a large, spacious yard with a gorgeous lawn. Truthfully, it was a house that you would've like. You could just imagine sitting in the sunny room, which windows you could see from the porch, reading. Clearly it would be a library, half dedicated to your books, of which included the Supernatural series which you found incredibly funny and heart-warming, the other half for research.
And then before you can get too lost in your dreams, the door opens and Dean stands in the doorway. His face is as beautiful as it's ever been, but his clothes are all wrong. He's in nice, tailored jeans and a blue polo. Which is nice, but not Dean in the slightest. And what's even worse is the way he smiles at Sam, and looks at you with mild disinterest. Furthermore, you really want to know what the giant surprise is that Sam told you Dean was planning.
The two of you are invited inside, where you graciously offer Lorelai the bottle of wine with a smile on your face and a bitter curse in your heart. Over and over you repeat in your mind, every time she looks at you, "I'm going to fucking kill you."
The four of you sit down to dinner at a tiny round table in a dining room painted dark red. Again, you picture her blood on your hands. The blood lust, to be frank, is reaching its peak, borderline out of control. Lorelai serves dinner, chicken, vegetables, bread, the wine you and Sam brought. And try as you might, you can't force food past the lump in your throat that you get every time Dean looks at her and melts. At one point, you lift your wine glass, and she reaches over to touch his arm and he laughs, and you have to put the glass back down because your hands are shaking so furiously.
As dinner begins to wind down, Lorelai asks kindly, her blue eyes shining brilliantly, "Tell me how you and Sam got together."
The question is posed innocently enough, but the look in her eyes makes your skin crawl. She knows this is eating away at your heart, clawing at your throat. But instead of spewing the acidity building behind your lips, you smile sweetly and look at Sam, batting your eyelashes. "Sammy, dear. You tell her. You tell the story so much better. And you're so adorable when you're flustered."
At this, Sam blushes brightly, coughing. Then he says confidently, "We just began spending more and more time together, reading and studying, and after a few midnight study sessions, we just realized this connection we had. We love the same things, and both enjoy driving Dean up the wall." He pauses to toss his brother a casual grin before continuing, "But it really didn't happen until a few weeks ago. She had a rough day, and when I hugged her, it's like she fell into place, right where she belonged. It's like everything I was looking for walked in and made herself at home. I've been in relationships before that have ended in a variety of ways, but nothing's quite felt like this."
By the end of his sentence, Sam is no longer telling a story, watching Lorelai and Dean for their reactions. His eyes are focused on yours. His voice is just above a whisper, turning his lines from a play to a prayer. And the look on his face is so heartbreaking, you turn away, smiling brilliantly at Lorelai. "It's just great, you know? Meant to be."
Then with a short sigh, you stand, gesturing to help Lorelai carry plates to the kitchen. She stands, grinning so broadly, you're afraid her face will crack in half. Following her into the kitchen, dumping scraps (most of which includes your plate) into the trash, your eyes catch a hex bag hanging over the lip at the top of the cabinets. Frowning at it for a moment, you lean back against a counter, pointing and asking Lorelai casually, "What's that?"
Her eyes follow your finger to the bag before she smiles simply. If you hadn't spent the past six months living with hunters, you wouldn't have noted the change in her breath. The slight pause before she responded. "An aromatherapy bag. Lavender and chamomile. It's really soothing. I could make you one if you wanted?"
"Absolutely! We'd love that. Really." Crossing your arms lightly across your chest, you glance over your shoulder through the kitchen doorway and catch Sam's eye, shaking your head slightly. You have to be absolutely sure that the bag is in fact a hex bag and not lavender and chamomile before you go off stabbing people. And when Lorelai mentions that she needs to get the ice cream out of the freezer in the garage, you see the perfect opportunity. "I'll get bowls ready for you," you say pleasantly, opening a cabinet to pull out four.
As she disappears, you move quickly, pulling yourself up on the counter to grab the bag, consistently checking over your shoulder for Lorelai or Dean. Then grabbing the bag, you shove it down the front of your dress, easing off the counter just as Lorelai re-enters the house.
"Bathroom?" you ask sweetly. Pointing to down the hall and to the left, you start that way slowly, examining pictures on the walls. But once in the bathroom, you lock the door and tear the bag open, so relieved with what you find that you sink to the edge of the tub and let out a shaky breath. Animal bones. It's a hex bag. Tying the bag closed and dropping it in the trash can, you fix your hair in the mirror and open the door to the bathroom.
To be faced with Lorelai. The sparkle in her eyes is gone, and is replaced with fire. Grabbing your shoulders, she pushes you back into the bathroom. Letting out a yelp, she slaps a hand over your mouth. "Do you think I'm an idiot?" she whispers. "I know what you know. And there's no way you're leaving here with him."
When you open your mouth to defend yourself, at least until you can get the blade from Sam, she slaps you across the face sharply. "Don't even. You have bigger problems than just me to deal with." The fire shifts to malice and arrogance, "Little Sammy has a crush on you. I daresay he loves you. You could have a whole new life with him. Leave Dean with me, and run away with Sam. Then we'll both be happy." It's not a request, it's an order. You stand in silence watching her long enough for her to grown uneasy, and then without a moment's hesitation, you slam your palm into her nose, feeling something crack beneath it. When she lets out a scream of rage, you push past her, struggling in your heels to get to Sam.
Sam and Dean push past each other in the narrow hallway, desperate to find out what's going on. Sam, to see if you're okay, Dean to check on Lorelai. Nodding at Sam, unable to say the words, he grabs Dean by the collar of his polo, pinning him to the hallway wall. Dean's fists fly, catching Sam in the jaw, who miraculously is able to hold his grip on his older brother. There should be sound. Dean's yells, Sam's yelling over Dean, Lorelai's cry of pain, but everything is oddly silent. With some difficulty, he pulls out the blade, sliding it to you across the floor. You stoop, catching it on its way to slide by, before turning around and slamming the full weight of your body into hers.
She slams into the mirror in the bathroom, shattering glass that falls around the two of you. Pinning her against with wall with your arm pressed against her neck, your eyes meet her blue, and you whisper in a deadly tone, "Dean's mine. Hands off, bitch." Before plunging the knife into her stomach. Her screech echoes in your ears as she collapses to the bathroom floor and the struggling in the hallway stops. For a moment, you stand with shaking hands, staring at the woman before you. Your first kill.
Struggling to suck in breaths, you turn and step into the hallway, catching sight of the brothers. Sam's lip is bleeding and Dean is looking around the house as if it's the first time he's ever seen it. Then with more shock than you ever imagined, he looks down at himself and groans, closing his eyes in pain. "What the fuck am I wearing?"
The spontaneity of the situation makes your heart bubble with laughter spilling across your lips as tears stream down your face. He's back. And when his eyes fall on you, in the dress you wore on your first official date, his eyes fill with such love, such admiration that you can't help but stumble across the few feet that lie between you, tumbling into his arms, pressing your lips firmly to his. For a moment, the two of you stand in silence in the hallway, your heart aching at the past few weeks events.
At some point, Sam slipped past the two of you, collecting Lorelai's body from the bathroom, carrying it to the garage to wrap it so it can be burned. You and Dean whisper for several long minutes, you filling him in as few words as you can about what happened. He was cursed, you thought he cheated and left for three weeks, Sam called you, you came back and pretended to be dating Sam to get in the house, discovered the hex bag, and killed the witch.
Dean's pride is so palpable, you can almost taste it. As the two of you step outside, where Sam has single handedly loaded the body in the trunk of the car, Dean asks you to stay on the steps while he inspects the impala for your surprise. Vibrating with happiness, you feel your heart swell in a way it hasn't in such a long time. Your eyes are so focused on Dean, you barely hear Sam step up beside you.
When he says your name softly, you turn to face him, feeling the bubble of your happiness turn to lead and sick to the pit of your stomach. What Sam was saying inside about you…Lorelai was right. He definitely feels something. And now he's going to watch you carry on with Dean, as if this night never happened. Because pretending is much better than talking about it.
"Sam, I'm sorry, I didn't-"
"Don't. Just don't," he interrupts, watching Dean. "It never happened."
And then Dean comes jogging back, his clothes all wrong, but his face, his eyes, his smile, so right. Then with a bright, secretive grin at Sam, he looks back at you and with a deep breath, drops down to one knee, producing a small black box from his pocket.
"Marry me?"
And everything is finally right. Through a mixture of tears and yeses, the ring somehow makes its way to your hand, and your hands tangle around Dean's neck, pulling him up to kiss you. Tears of happiness are streaming freely as you inspect the ring. Gorgeous. Perfect. And a big surprise was right. Sam hugs Dean, his laughter bright, his demeanor pleased.
But when he gives you a congratulatory hug, you feel the tremble in his hands.
No one said loving a hunter would be easy.
But no one said that you'd end up loving one, and killing the other either.
Thank you ALL for your support! I appreciate how much wonderful feedback I've gotten on this.
Now if you love a little bit of love for Dean like the above, check out my other story "So She Did".
