A/N: Very special thanks to Cleonie 'Jayne Mansfield' Quin, Artistic Punk, happytide, ForeverACharmedOne, anon, Musicaddict1, drivenunder, ZenyZootSuit, linalove, Ravenclaw992, Guest, corbsxx, pourquoibella, Lady Liesel, need4luv, Random reader and OperaGhost18. Thanks so much for your reviews, guys! Enjoy the update. :D

Scythe

Chapter Eleven

/

"So..." Dean mused as he flossed his teeth, looking at himself in the mirror, while I stepped out of the shower and wrapped myself in one of his ginormous towels. "How exactly did your Dad and Diana meet?"

I sighed heavily; my stomach had had one big lump of misery in it since I had gotten up that morning. They were coming for dinner and I was not looking forward to it at all. I sidled beside him next to the vanity and grabbed my brush. "She was his secretary."

Dean stopped flossing abruptly and watched me as I sat down on the toilet lid and started to brush out my hair. When I looked at him, he had this great big grin on his face, as though he found it absolutely hilarious. "Are you serious?"

I rolled my eyes at him. It was so cliched.

Snickering a little to himself, Dean turned back to the mirror and continued flossing. "Well, that explains it then."

I squeezed my hair as I ran my brush through it, letting the water catch on the towel, and I watched him. "Explains what?"

"Well," Dean mused, setting the floss down and examining his teeth closely in the mirror before looking at me. "How old is she, exactly?"

I sighed heavily. "She's 32."

Again, Dean snickered a little before sipping mouthwash and gargling it. I wanted to comment how funny he thought it was that my Dad was married to someone a mere seven years older than me, old enough to be my big sister, not necessarily my stepmother, but I didn't. I finished brushing out my hair and cradled my chin in my palm, staring down at my bare feet and sighing heavily.

"Hey," I said, looking up at him, watching as he finished gargling his mouthwash and spat it out in the sink. "When do I get to meet your parents?"

Dean shrugged as he screwed on the cap to the mouthwash bottle. "Well, both my parents are elderly and still live in Italy...so probably never," and then he looked at me over his shoulder, giving me that bad-boy grin I loved so much. "I've got a brother in Seattle, but he's an even bigger pervert than I am."

I smiled at him, but bowed my chin to stare down at my toenails once more. I don't know why, but it kinda bothered me that I'd never have a chance to meet his parents. Of course, it wasn't exactly something we'd talked about or planned on...not that anything about the relationship was necessarily planned to begin with.

"Oh," he turned around and leaned back against the vanity, crossing his arms over his chest. "Do Dad or Diana have any allergies? Peanuts?"

I thought about it. Dad had animal fur allergies, not food allergies. I didn't know about Diana and I didn't really care. I shook my head, not looking at him. "I don't think so."

Dean made an affirmative sound in his throat as he stood up to go into the bedroom to get dressed. I just sat there and listened to him remove articles of clothing and get dressed for the day; he had to lecture in an hour and it was my second official day of R&R house arrest, and it was bumming me out. Despite the fact we were a mere few weeks into the semester, I was grateful for the time off and the chance to sit down and think a little about things. That being said, I missed GothamU, I missed my classes. I missed being able to go to the lecture halls and sit and pay attention to the lecture so I wouldn't have to think about the hallucination, or the trip to the hospital, or this impending doom that was the dinner with Dad and Diana and Dean.

I sighed heavily and went into the bedroom to get dressed. Dean was buttoning up his cotton candy pink shirt when I stepped around him to go to the dresser. "What are you gonna do today?"

I opened the top drawer and pulled out a pair of black panties and a clean bra, and I sat down on the bed to put them on, shrugging. "I've got some reading to do for class, and Lydia said she was gonna come by before lunch with homework."

Dean was quiet for a moment, and then I heard him grumble a little in his throat. "Well, y'know, don't push it, alright? You're supposed to be resting."

I smiled just a little. "I know. It's just reading."

I pulled my hair over my shoulder and fastened my bra at the back, and that was when I felt weight on the bed behind me, felt Dean's fingers just lightly brush my arm, and I felt him press his lips at the junction where my neck and shoulder met. I shivered and bit down on my lower lip; since I'd come home from the hospital, we'd been very intimate. It was difficult, right at that moment, not to turn around and jump on top of him and keep him from going to lecture.

I felt his breath fan over my cool skin. "Can you promise me something?"

I pressed my chin to my shoulder and gave a little smile. "Anything."

I meant it, too.

He pressed his chin into my shoulder, grazing my nose with his, and I could feel his breath tumble down over my skin. "Can you please promise me that you will...y'know..."

My smile faltered but I waited to hear him out.

He brushed his fingers up along my bare arm again, as though he was really trying to figure out the most gentle way to say what he wanted to say. "I know you don't like your stepmom...and I know you and your Dad don't always get along..."

I sighed and closed my eyes. Biggest understatement ever.

"But let's make sure this dinner goes great, okay?" he asked, very gently and genuinely, and it made me smile. I knew he wanted to make a good impression on Dad, since he was almost twice my age and Dad was so obviously uncomfortable about that. Not only did I appreciate that, I loved it. Given how wonderful he'd been to me during my stay at the hospital, I wanted to do right by him, not matter how hard it might be.

I brushed his hand with my fingertips and looked at him over my shoulder with a smile. "I promise."

Dean grinned and planted a big sloppy kiss on the spot where my nose met my cheekbone and it made me giggle like a little girl. He stood up from the bed, and I sat there and listened to him leave the bedroom, gather his things from the office, go into the kitchen presumably for coffee, and leave the apartment. When he was gone, I got up and lazily pulled on my jeans and a comfy T-shirt, and I went into the kitchen to pour myself some coffee and looked out the window. The leaves were really changing and soon they'd all be orange and red and yellow. In a few hours Dad and Diana would be by for dinner.

/

I was in the bedroom changing my top when the doorbell rang, at exactly 7pm, and I heard Dean rush to the door, open it, and suddenly there was a flurry of voices, mostly Dean's, because I could only imagine the look on Dad's face as he stepped into the apartment to realize that this was where I was living with a man who was almost twice my age. My stomach twisted and churned very uncomfortably; I went into the bathroom to take a Gravol when I heard Dean's voice down the hallway.

"Han! Your folks are here."

I took in a deep breath and stared at myself in the mirror. I looked freaked out of my mind, but I willed myself to be calm and take the whole evening just one step at a time. I did so solemnly swear to be on my best behaviour; I would not stir the pot. I would be pleasant. And Dean was wonderful; he was charming, he was intelligent, his cooking was phenomenal. Dad would have to like him, he'd just have to, there was nothing about him not to like.

After a moment, I left the bedroom and moved into the living room, where Dad and Diana were sitting on the couch side by side. Diana was dolled up, as per usual, but though she seemed kind of uncomfortable, she still maintained a little smile on her thickly-lipsticked lips, whereas Dad just looked as though he was attending a funeral. I came into the living room and they both looked up. Diana smiled fully and they both stood.

"Hey," I breathed in greeting.

"Hey Jo," Dad said, and reached forward to hug me. I hugged him back but not too hard. Our conversation at the hospital still weighed heavy on my mind. When he let me go, he shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to smile. "How're you doing?"

I shrugged. "I'm fine."

"You look awfully pale." Diana said, and though I knew she wasn't saying it to be a bitch, I couldn't help the twang of real irritation that sprang on my nerves.

I swallowed and managed a tight little smile. "That's because you guys are both so tan," I said, looking between them. They were tan, too; I'd never seen Dad look so brown. I guessed most of the honeymoon had been spent out in the sun, lucky bastards. "How was the rest of the honeymoon?"

Diana flashed a white-toothed smile, as though she was a model smiling for a bunch of cameras. "Oh, it was wonderful," she reached over and massaged Dad's shoulder with her hand, her huge engagement ring flashing in the low light, and Dad couldn't help but smile a little. "We're pretty sure Adam West was staying at our hotel."

"Adam West? That's nuts, that totally takes me back. Here you go, guys. Drinks for all." Dean emerged from the kitchen with a tray of drinks, passed Dad a glass of scotch, and gave Diana what looked like a white wine spritzer. Dean was wearing this cerulean shirt that looked very sharp on him with his graying dark hair and his skin tone, and he was clean shaven and very smiley and I couldn't stop staring at him and grinning to myself.

Dad and Diana sat down on the couch, tentatively sipping their drinks, and I sat down on the love seat while Dean disappeared into the kitchen and reemerged, a few minutes later, and handed me a bottle of beer before collapsing down onto the love seat beside me.

"So...Dean," Dad said, very slowly, and I watched the expression on his face. I knew he was trying to be civil, and I very much appreciated it. But at the same time, I was expecting to see his eyes and his expression go dark at any moment. "This is your place?"

Dean sipped his beer and nodded. "Yes sir."

"How long have you been here?"

Dean made a contemplative sound as though he was trying to remember. "Just about six years," and then he laughed a little in disbelief. "Geez, yeah, six years," he looked at me, grinning, and put his arm around me, which I didn't think was a great move, but obviously it didn't occur to him that it wasn't. "Man I'm getting old."

I squeezed my eyes closed for a single second; I desperately wished he hadn't said that. Dad didn't need the reminder.

Dad nodded a little apprehensively, and his eyes flickered between me and Dean for a moment. "And where did you live before?"

"Metropolis," Dean replied, cheerfully. "Finished my dissertation at MetU."

I watched Diana's eyebrows perk as a very large smile broke out on her lips and she turned and looked at Dad, who didn't look back at her, but he did nod a little as though he were impressed. "Well, that's...that's marvelous."

At that moment, the timer on the oven beeped loudly, startling Dean so that he put his beer bottle on the coffee table and stood up. "Shit! Excuse me a minute."

Diana watched Dean get up and head to the kitchen with rather wide eyes, which puzzled me, but then she turned to me with a strangely excited smile. "He cooks?"

I sipped my beer and nodded. "Yeah, he's...he's an awesome cook. Made me macaroni and cheese when I came home from the hospital. To die for."

Diana nodded as though she was very impressed, looking into the kitchen as if watching Dean at work, and then she turned her gaze back to me.

"Oh the food in Hawaii was just superb, wasn't it Frankie?" she turned to Dad.

Dad sipped his scotch and nodded in agreement. "Yeah, lobster every night-"

Diana laughed her breathy little laugh and smacked his arm playfully. "Oh, not every night-"

He turned to her with a smile. "Well damn near every night," he turned to me, and there was laughter in his eyes. "They totally spoiled us."

"They really did," Diana giggled. "We were lucky. Pina coladas at all hours, they'd never let your glass go empty."

Dean reemerged from the kitchen, grinning away before sitting down beside me and wrapping an arm around my shoulders. "Sounds like my kinda place."

A moment of awkward silence followed then, where everyone took slow, tentative sips from their drinks and Dad and Diana let their gazes wander around the room, as though they hadn't properly inspected it beforehand. Admittedly, it had been going well, so far. Tempting them with questions about their honeymoon was the obvious way to go, they were still in honeymoon phase and therefore probably less likely to get scornful about the fact I was living with my professor.

After a moment, though, Diana turned to look me in the eye and gave me a great big smile, and I returned it hesitantly before sipping from my beer bottle. I felt Dean's thumb massaging my shoulder, as if to remind me of what I had promised him early that morning.

Diana shifted on the couch, crossing one leg over the other and smoothing out her skirt. "So, uh..." she cleared her throat in an effort to fill the void of room. She sipped her drink and pointed between me and Dean. "How did you two meet?"

I smirked in my throat then, but hid it with a well-timed cough while taking a sip of my beer. It wasn't needed, though. Dad turned to Diana with such a sharp look in his eyes that I was sure he was going to snap right at her. No doubt he told her all about it when he met Dean at the hospital; he'd probably warned her not to bring it up before they stepped in the door. And yet, the question hung in the air like a bad smell.

Dad's voice was calm but laced with anger. "Diana-"

I shook my head. "It's fine," I told him, setting down my beer bottle and catching Diana's gaze as she looked at me. I tried to smile at her, not to be understanding, but because I couldn't quite get over how she asked what was obviously such a touchy question. "I took a class with Dean in the fall and then another in the winter-"

Dean nodded and made a sound of great approval as he was sipping his beer. He swallowed and pointed to Dad. "You'll be happy to hear she's a damn good student, and I'm not just saying that because I think she's cute."

I couldn't help but smile at him; boyfriend or not, he had been my favourite professor, and it was a pretty damn cool thing to get such a citation from your favourite professor. Looking over at Dad, though, he looked less than enthused.

Dean continued as though he hadn't noticed Dad's stare. "I totally mean it, I'd be twice as scrupulous with her papers and she'd still get some of the best marks in the class."

I pressed my eyes together. I knew he meant it to be a compliment about my studies, and that Dean probably said it because I'd told him earlier about Dad's whole idea about me taking a semester off and how I didn't want to. But the comment reinforced, once again, that Dean had been my professor for two classes, he had marked my papers, and now we were living together and sleeping together in his apartment. I had hoped, that in getting it out in the open how we'd had classes together and then came to be together later, we could move from the fact that Dean was a professor onto the fact that Dean was a man, like any other, who I had fallen in love with and was in a relationship with.

It didn't seem possible now; judging by the look in his eyes, Dad would forever look at Dean and remember that this man stuck it up his daughter and marked her papers, too. "Well that's...comforting."

Beside me, I knew Dean felt the scorn but was trying to hide it behind a dashing smile. I couldn't help but shake my head a little, avoiding Diana's gaze because I knew it was on me, looking for some reassurance or...something, I don't know.

"Well," Dean said after a moment of silence. "Why don't we gather, beef's just about ready," We all stood up, taking our drinks, and moving slowly from the living room into the kitchen to the dining table. "Hope you guys are hungry."

I pressed a hand to my stomach, knowing full well I'd have to eat something soon, because I felt like I was going to be sick.

/

Dean had gone all out and made the best meal: roast beef with garlic mashed potatoes, green beans with tomatoes and slivered almonds and Caesar salad. I watched Dad very carefully throughout the first few bites; despite the fact he didn't say anything, I knew he was impressed. His silence pretty much proved it. He was sitting across from Dean and was pretty careful not to make any actual eye contact, which kinda bothered me, but I guessed it was to be expected.

After a little while of eating and chewing in silence, Diana reached for her wine glass and cleared her throat. "So, Jo, we had a chance to meet your therapist at the hospital," she said and took a sip, and though it still kinda bothered me that she was calling me Jo, what bothered me more was that she'd brought up Crane during what was already a very tenuous meal. I watched her put down her wine glass and run a fingertip over her bottom lip before she gave me a naughty little smile. "He's quite a looker."

I snorted and looked down at my meat as I started to cut it. I couldn't get over how everyone I knew seemed to love the guy. Sure, I wasn't immune to the fact that he was a ridiculously gorgeous man, but the typical smarminess often distracted from the appeal. I shrugged my shoulders out. "I guess, if you can overlook how contemptuous he is. "

Dad looked up and gave me a very pointed look. "He didn't strike me as contemptuous...he was a little chilly, maybe, but very professional."

Dean laughed a little in his throat and put down his utensils to wipe his mouth with his napkin. "You should hear her after a session with him, she goes off on such a tear," he nudged me with his elbow, and I just rolled my eyes. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was in love with the guy."

Ah mah gawd! Perish the thought!

I looked over at Dean and he just gave me his smart-ass cheeky grin and I couldn't help the little smile that splayed on my lips. Nevertheless I pressed my hand against his chin and gave him a playful push. "Screw you, professor."

Diana gave me a strange little squished-face smile, as if she thought Dean and I were just adorable together. "Is he married?" she asked, as she cut another piece of beef.

I reached for my beer and shook my head. I couldn't imagine Crane finding a woman who could put up with him for more than a week, let alone happily ever after. "No, I'm pretty sure he'd castrate himself so sex wouldn't get in the way of being a pompous prick."

As soon as it left my lips, there was silence all around, and I immediately regretted I had said anything at all. I could feel Dean's hard gaze on me, as if he was telepathically saying really? I'd been doing so well too, and now the rest of the evening was going straight to hell, I could feel it.

Dad wasn't impressed at all; when I looked up, Diana was looking down at her food awkwardly, pushing the string beans around with her fork, as though she was anticipating the onslaught. Dad's eyebrows were furrowed. "He was perfectly polite when we met him-"

"Well of course he's gonna be nice to you, you're the parent," I told him, without being able to stop myself. "With me, when it's just the two of us, he's judgmental and an asshole-"

Dad all but threw down his fork on his plate. The clatter startled Diana beside him. "Johanna."

Next to me Dean was face-palming. I knew all he wanted was to have a nice, quiet, awkward-as-ass but otherwise eventless dinner with his young girlfriend's parents, and I had ruined it, I knew that, and I was prepared to apologize and make it up to him later, I really was. I just didn't know why Crane had to be brought up and why we had to talk about him.

"You don't take session with him, Dad," I said, trying my best to keep my tone as rational as I could without going off the hook. Across from me, Diana took a long sip of her wine and looked off in some random direction. "You don't know."

Dad buried his face in his hands, totally exasperated, and when he looked up at me again he was scowling hard and his eyes were angry. "Well I'm sure you don't help things by having such a wretched attitude!"

I looked down at my plate to keep from getting angrier than I already was. This incredible tension settled there amongst the four of us; no one was touching their food, their cutlery, their wineglasses, anything; even Diana had resolved to inspecting her fake fingernails. I could feel Dean beside me stewing; I was sure as hell gonna hear it from him later.

After a moment, Dad picked up his fork again, and sensing he'd caused a scene, he fiddled with a piece of steak on his plate. Diana thumbed the stem of her wine glass, and Dean took a long swig from his beer bottle.

"Honestly," Dad breathed, shaking his head just a little bit. "I mean, this is why Dr. Crane thinks you have a personality disorder."

And...my heart dropped into my stomach. I felt like I'd been slapped right across the face.

Dean looked up at Dad so suddenly and pointedly that it made me look at him, beside me, and then I looked at Dad, who looked down at his plate sheepishly. Diana across from me sighed heavily and pressed her fingertips under her eyes, as though she were anticipating the real shit to hit the fan.

But I just stared between them stupidly. I knew what I heard Dad say, I heard it and I'd never forget it...and nobody was saying anything about it.

"...A what?" I breathed, and even I could hear the shock in my voice.

Dean beside me sighed heavily, and he turned towards me in his chair, putting a hand on my shoulder as though he was expecting me to throw a fit and wanted to keep it from happening. "Han-"

I didn't look at him. I continued to stare at Dad; I was aghast. "A personality disorder?"

Dad shook his head as though he completely regretted saying anything. Next to him, Diana was watching him with a strange apprehensive look on her face. "It's just what he told us and I think he's on to something," Dad said, rubbing his forehead with his hand and shrugging his shoulders. "It seems to make a lot of sense."

I stared at him, but he wouldn't return my gaze, as though he were afraid to look at me. At that moment, I knew he was being 100% truthful, that was exactly what Crane had told him, a personality disorder.

Across from me, Diana gave me a strange look with her eyes wide and her lips pressed together, as though she'd been privy to something that was obviously none of her business. Dean massaged my shoulder with his fingers; whether he was trying to get my attention or keep me calm, I don't know. All I could do was stare down at my plate in shock; I tried to pick up my fork to eat something and I had to put it down. I wanted to take a long drink of my beer but at the same time I just didn't want to. I couldn't say anything, I didn't know what to say.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of that awkward silence, I pushed my chair back and set my napkin on the table. "Excuse me."

I stood up, left the table, and hurried down the hallway towards the bedroom. I knew I shouldn't have left the table, I knew it was rude...but I had to get away from it. I had to get away from that aching silence and just...think things over a little.

I went into the bedroom and sat down on the edge of the bed with my back to the door. I didn't know what to do; I kinda wanted to cry, but at the same time I knew it wasn't warranted, there wasn't anything to cry about. I felt like I should have been angry, but what was there to be angry about? All I felt was just...void. Shock and void.

A personality disorder. A personality disorder...

I heard the footsteps coming down the hall and waited, not saying a word. When Dean came in, I heard him sigh as he sat down beside me but he didn't put an arm around me the way I half expected him to. My guess was that he wasn't really sure what I was feeling and didn't want to make things worse.

"Han-"

I sniffed a little. "Did you know?"

It was obvious that he had known, given how he'd reacted when Dad announced it at the dinner table, and though I felt as though I should have been furious with him for keeping it from me, I wasn't. There was literally no other emotion I was feeling at that moment other than the shock.

Dean sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, and then he nodded. "...Your dad did tell me about it at the hospital, since Crane didn't think it was any of my business."

I looked over at him; he had his head bowed until he looked up at me, and I saw the heavy look in his eyes. I swallowed. "...Do you think it's true?"

I saw the surprise catch in Dean's eyes and his expression, the question obviously catching him off guard. My guess was he hadn't thought that his opinion meant anything in the matter, but it mattered to me. I lived with him; of anyone, I figured he would have noticed if my behaviour had changed or was in any way really...I didn't even know.

Dean's expression softened, and he looked away as though trying to figure out what to say, exactly. I watched him with my lips pressed together, the silence making me nervous. I didn't want to hear him say something to confirm it...but at the same time I wanted him to be truthful.

Finally, Dean shrugged his shoulders and looked at me. "Han I don't know anything about it, and the last thing I want to do is confuse you."

I bowed my head and nodded a little. I appreciated that, I really did; all that was in my head was personality disorder, I didn't know what it meant exactly, and obviously Dean didn't either. I rubbed my eyes with my fingertips and sighed heavily.

Then, Dean gently set his hand over mine, resting on my kneecap, and gave me a bit of a squeeze. "I think you should stick it out with Crane," he said, quite carefully. "See what he tells you about it in these next few sessions."

I sat up and sighed heavily, brushing my hair out of my face. "Yeah..." I knew he was right; it was Crane's diagnosis, he was the best one to talk about it with. He'd know what to tell me about it and what to do about it, much as I hated to admit it. I looked over at Dean, and he gave me a very sweet smile as we sat there beside each other, in the darkness of the bedroom, with the light from the hallway pouring into the room. I leaned over and rested my head against his shoulder. "Guess I need therapy after all, professor."

I heard Dean smirk a little but he kissed my forehead and held my hand in his tightly. We sat there like that for awhile; for a moment, I had completely forgotten that Dad and Diana were still sitting in the dining room, probably contemplating whether or not they should leave, and in a way I wanted nothing but for them to just quietly slip out so that I could lie in bed and let Dean's body swallow me, hold me tight, keep me protected and loved.

But after a moment, Dean pat my kneecap. "C'mon, we better get back out there before Diana drowns herself in the pinot."

I laughed a little because I had to laugh a little at that moment, on top of everything. I stood up, my hand still in his, and walked with him down the hallway back to the dining room.

/