Chapter 7: Shopping and planning
Amazingly, the unreality of it all was starting to wear off. It helped that Bella had the anchor of regular calls to Charlie every few hours.
Dean scowled darkly every time she asked him to lower the music and let her use a pay phone, but otherwise didn't say anything. Maybe he understood that she needed this, that she needed some reminder of her old, sane life to keep her from totally freaking out. Whatever the reason, he didn't try to stop her or talk her out of it anymore, not after the first time.
When they got to the outskirts of Salvation, Iowa, another conference between the three Winchesters took place, while Bella sat nervously behind them in the Impala, drumming her fingers on her knees. Dean's tension had been increasing steadily, as they'd gotten closer and closer to their destination, and Bella herself was starting to feel very tense, wondering how she fit into their plans.
Would they leave her in a motel room somewhere while they went after the Demon? She thought that would be pretty unbearable. What if something happened and all three of them were hurt? What if she was left all alone in that motel room, wondering for hours or days what had happened to them? It wasn't a comforting thought.
Finally, Dean came sauntering back to the Impala. He was trying to act casual, but Bella could still read the lines of tension in his body. The observational skills she was born with were still in operation, apparently.
"You and I are gonna do some shopping, I figure we need to get you some stuff. Girly stuff, so you'll be more comfortable. Like a toothbrush." He winked at her and took her hand, but it still seemed forced to Bella. Like he was only half with her.
he informed her, sliding behind the steering wheel.
"And Dad and Sammy are going to find us a place to hole up,"
he added before she could ask. She squeezed his hand lightly, smiling at him.
"You're right, I've got nothing."
Bella cheered up a little bit, however, when Dean seemed to come back to himself more fully. He leaned in and kissed her, obviously not caring whether Sam or John saw him do so, and then tugged her in the direction of the Impala.
"I'm glad you're here," he said gruffly. They both heard what he left unsaid:
"Where I can protect you"
In difference than Edward, Bella didn't mind it when Dean said it.
Still something about the whole thing was still making her uncomfortable – beyond the obvious craziness of the entire situation, that is. Dean and Sam had their backs to John and Bella, looking over maps of Salvation and plotting the next move, so they probably wouldn't have noticed, but Bella herself could've sworn that John was glaring at her behind her back. She kept feeling the burn of his gaze on the back of her neck, but whenever she turned, trying to catch him at it, he was always looking somewhere else, or staring blankly into the middle distance. Still, her intuition told her that the elder Winchester was less than happy with her. It was really creeping her out, actually. Did Dean's father really see her as that much of a liability?
It took them over an hour, and Dean tried not to mind that too much. Shopping for toiletries was kind of boring, but it was no hardship watching Bella model a pair or two of low-rise, tight-fitting jeans. He also managed to convince her to buy a set of lacy red lingerie, so it wasn't all a waste.
He didn't like the way people were looking at them, though. Bella, with her bandaged throat and bruised cheek, looked like she'd been a victim of domestic violence, and many of the people in the stores they went to started to glare at Dean when they realized the two of them were together…until Dean decided to take off his jacket and let the prying onlookers see the bruises on his elbows and the bandages on his arms.
"Car accident,"
he rasped at one of the more curious onlookers, and finally, when it became evident that Bella wasn't afraid of Dean, and was starting to get annoyed at their stares herself, the other shoppers finally got the hint and left them alone.
Even without that extra annoyance, however, an internal struggle was taking place inside of Dean. He was split now, in a way he never had been before, not even with Cassie. Part of him wanted to be the nurturer, the caring boyfriend who made sure his girl had what she needed to be comfortable (or as comfortable as possible given the present circumstances). But most of him, the hunter, wanted to be with Dad and Sam, plotting their next steps, figuring out how to go about finding the Demon, so they could lie in wait for the bastard. Shopping was only taking one hour, the boyfriend part insisted, yet the hunter part groused that every moment counted, and that he was losing valuable strategy-planning time while playing 'house' with Bella.
Finally, though, he was able to relax, reminding himself that this was Dad's battle, and Dad probably already knew what he wanted to do, practically right down to the second. That had always been how things worked with Dean and his father; Dean had always been just the foot soldier, following Dad's lead wherever it led, and Dad had made all the big 'military' decisions. Dean had never had a problem with that, and that would probably happen this time, too.
Besides, did he really want to be forced to play mediator between Dad and Sammy again? No thanks. He hoped he'd get lucky and Dad and Sam wouldn't be fighting tooth and nail when he and Bella got back. Dean watched Bella hunt around for deodorant and soap and other girly things, and he thought back to the quick conversation he'd had with Dad about her, obviously out of earshot, before leaving for this little shopping trip.
By that point, he hadn't yet told Dad about his intention to keep Bella with them, and Dean had frankly expected a fight about it. About putting Bella in danger again, or maybe about the foolishness of hauling around 'dead weight'.
But, much to Dean's surprise, Dad had agreed to keeping Bella with them, without even a murmur of protest. John had just nodded curtly, and gone back to rummaging in the weapons case in the back of his truck.
Now, strolling slowly after Bella while she went around picking out essentials, he thought back to that conversation with Dad. Or rather, the lack of conversation. Something felt a bit off, but Dean wasn't sure what. He couldn't put his finger on it, couldn't shake the feeling that not only was something wrong, but that something big might be wrong.
He tried to find a rational explanation, debating silently with himself while Bell went about her business. Maybe just having Bella around was changing the dynamic between the three of them. Maybe Dad was remembering how Dean had stood up to him when they'd gone to get the Colt from the vampires, or how Dean had stood up to him about going to rescue Bella. Maybe after so many years of being devoted to Mom's memory, Dad understood that Dean could be just as loyal to his own significant other. Or at least that it would be useless to argue with Dean about it.
All in all, Dean was glad when he and Bella made it back to the Impala relatively quickly. He'd told Dad to give them two to three hours to get some essentials, and they were doing fine for time, he reminded himself for the hundredth time.
Bella had balked a bit at the credit card with the "Phil Rudd" name he'd used back at the cashier, but he reminded her quietly now that the Winchesters weren't getting a salary for what they did.
Bella nodded. "OK. Should we pop the trunk and put the bags in there?"
Dean couldn't help grinning at the thought of putting such domestic items in on top of the shotguns and holy water ampoules and bags of rock salt.
"Not much room in there, baby, sorry."
"What? What've you got in there?"
That's right; she hadn't yet seen the arsenal in the Impala's trunk. Dean glanced quickly around, but they were at the back end of a large parking lot and no one was nearby, so he stashed the shopping bags on the backseat of the car and then opened the trunk, lifting the false bottom and propping it open with the ease of long practice.
He grinned again at the expected shocked look on her face. He couldn't resist pointing out a few of his 'babies'.
"Taurus, Model 92, 9mm," he said, pointing. "A Beretta 92, 9mm. Colt revolver, 6-shot, .357."
He also pointed out to her the sawed-off shotgun, the Winchester shotguns (she smirked a little at that), the rock salt, the crumpled plastic bottle of holy water, some random knives, and some other things.
"But this is my real baby," he said proudly, checking again to make sure they weren't being observed. He pulled his favorite gun from the holster hidden under his arm. "Colt 1911, .45 caliber, semi-automatic. And we can't forget this,"
he added, lifting the bottom of his t-shirt quickly to show her the Colt once again. The special Colt. The one that could help them rid the world forever of the monster that had brought so much pain to their family. She leaned over and kissed him.
"Let's get out of here before someone notices your gun fetish."
Dean dropped the false bottom back into place and slammed the trunk closed.
"Nothing wrong with a gun fetish in my business. Besides, it's only one of my fetishes."
He looked her up and down, just to be sure she got the message. She rolled her eyes as she slid into the passenger seat, but she was still smiling. He got into the car himself, smiling inwardly at how much more relaxed he felt now.
Maybe having Bell along wasn't such a bad idea.
