Warnings: Swearing

Chapter 14: Satisfaction

This was a particularly strange feeling, probably because he hadn't expected it. Kevin knew Channing since almost forever. That he feels comfortable in her company had something natural that shouldn't have surprise him. For how long hadn't he seen her? Six months? A year? Since the previous Christmas? Thanksgiving?

But the conversation naturally flowed between the three of them in the peaceful atmosphere of the restaurant chosen by his mother. Seeing them both in the afternoon, he had almost felt ill. There were things that his mother wasn't supposed to know or see. Her to see him with his piercings, on stage, was almost more disturbing that if she had caught him hand in the bra of a girl. And the look she had had was exactly the one he had feared. A little contempt, compassion tinged with horror and disappointment. But it went back several hours and now he had only his mother and his friend in front of him. Channing hadn't seemed surprised or shocked by his appearance even if he saw her focus on his piercings when she thought he wasn't looking at her anymore.

He looked at her all the time. And he wondered why it didn't do anything to him. He was in love with this girl for so long... His heart should have beat wildly, his hands tremble. He should have stammer and not daring to meet her eyes. Instead, everything seemed natural and his greatest challenge came from his mother and his fear of her judgment. But curiously, this fear had vanished when he had come down from the stage after the concert to hug her.

Channing remained. Channing and her just plain dreams, her shiny hair and loud laughter. Channing who hadn't made any comment when he had returned from Princeton. Who peacefully studied at the University of Michigan and would eventually settle into a simple and busy life with the person of her choice. With children and a garden bordered by a small white fence. There was a time when Kevin had dreamed of that too. Do major studies, getting an important and well-paid profession, live a quiet and hardworking life.

All that was before. Before his dream was reduced to nothing by his inability to follow the path he had chosen. Before he forges a second dream to the sound of cello. Before he took one way ticket to LA without telling anyone, and land in the Winchester recording studio. They needed an extra that day. A simple string score he had recorded in one hour for fifty dollars. They had recalled him two days later for other songs. And again the following week. They had eventually integrated him to the group when Charlie had remarked that anyway they would have to play the songs on stage right? He could still hear her condescending tone as she explained to Sam that a live cellist was always better than a tape recording.

He found himself smiling in taking them to their hotel. Linda hugged him one last time in her arms, made him promise to visit her more frequently after the end of the tour and left the two young people alone. They were silent for a moment, sitting on the steps leading to the hotel. Not that they no longer have anything to say, but the time seemed inopportune to steer the conversation on anything.

"Why did you take so long to call me?" Channing eventually asked. "Were you ashamed of me?"

Kevin looked at her, shocked and surprised. "Ashamed?" The idea had never occurred him that she could think that. She nodded.

"It's not like I'm your coolest acquaintance." She muttered, bringing her knees against herself. "And you left without saying anything..."

"I wasn't sure of... Channing, we always talked about the life we'd have when we'd be grown up. You never heard me talk about being a rock star… it's not like I had managed to achieve my dreams or..." Kevin paused one second the time to swallow the lump he had in the throat. "It's not like I have something to be proud of."

Channing returned him a surprised and almost annoyed look. "Not like you had something to be proud of? Are you kidding me?" She waited for him to answer but nothing came. With an exasperated sigh, she folded her arms around her knees and rested her chin there. "You're stupid." She grumbled.

Kevin had a rictus. "You think it's stupid to think that the life I lead has nothing to do with what I wanted? Channing, I love what I do... The band... They gave me a chance when I thought I had no more. The fact remains that this isn't the life I had dreamed about. And seeing you with my mom... I thought she was going to have a heart attack by recognizing me." He said, putting his hand to one of his piercings. Channing laughed.

"She isn't used to see you like that. I think it suits you." She said, touching one of his spacers with her fingertips.

"You got used to it pretty fast."

She shook her head. "You think I've never seen you with?" She realized to his surprised look that it was the case. "I missed playing with you. The University orchestra... it's not the same. So when your mother told me about your group, I sought your solos on Youtube. I learned them all by heart and I played with you at my computer."

Kevin smiled. "I don't know if it's the most adorable or the scariest thing I've ever heard." He joked. He realized he had mimiced her position and now they had to look like two hairy eggs sitting on the hotel steps.

"Your fans have inevitably done creepier stuff than that." She groused. "It's not my fault if I missed you."

Kevins knew that the confession should have make his heart leap for joy. But it didn't, it was just comfortable and predictable. He took Channing's hand into his.

"I missed you too. And I also miss playing with you." He thought of his cello carefully stored in its case in a hardware truck, Channing's old violin and the hours they had spent practicing just the two of them. There was a slight unsaid between them that should have been uncomfortable, but wasn't.

"I guess we wouldn't be there if things had been different." Channing said quietly. "If hadn't separated before being together..."

Kevin nodded. "If we hadn't taken different paths."

"It could have work."

"Bad timing."

She nodded and squeezed his fingers. "I still miss you, you know."

"Me either."

"Just don't stay this long without giving news to me again. It gives me the impression that you're not my friend anymore."

He nodded. "Promised."

##

The road stretched into a long straight line under the wheels of the bus and Charlie had forgotten the name of their destination.

"I wanna change the contract terms." She said, playing along with her toes painted in black on the dashboard. She was beginning to get a sunburn on her knees and moved to rest her feet on the ground, managing God only knew how to stay in doing so completely sprawled in her seat, neck almost cut by the seat belt. Dorothy wondered for a long time if she had copied her ability to take improbable positions on Sam?

"There's no contract." She pinpointed, turning her attention on the road again.

"You know what I mean." Charlie grumbled.

"Yes." Indeed, she knew. "Change them for what exactly?"

"Oh, the classic stuff. We stay together until we can't bear each other."

Dorothy stiffed a chuckle. "It doesn't announce a very long deferment." She laughed. Charlie shrugged.

"It's still better than separate the minute you will return the keys of this bus."

"Maybe not."

Charlie gave her a warning look and Dorothy sighed. "Red... What do we know will happen after this tour? I'm going to get hired elsewhere, you will return to record. Tell me when we'll be able to see each other? And tell me honestly that it's what you want, an episodic relationship? Over the phone like Dean and Castiel? You really think you can stand it when you told me yesterday that you wanted the big adventure with me?"

Charlie scowled and crossed her arms. "It's worth trying." She grumbled.

"Of course it's worth trying." Dorothy said. "But I ask you to be realistic. It's not going to be easy and it will probably be doomed to failure. Are you sure to bear that? To bear to admit that it didn't work? And to do that later when it'll be even harder for both of us?"

"It didn't seem hard for you the other day."

"Yet it was."

There was a moment of silence, barely disturbed by the engine roar and a few loud voices coming from the living area of the bus. Dorothy was so concentrated on the road she took a little time to realize that Charlie had slipped her hand on her knee.

"You know what I liked about you?" The bassist asked with a smile. The driver shook her head. "You looked so sure of yourself. As if you were the only one of us to know what she was doing."

Dorothy burst into laughter which was rare from her and rather incongruous given the circumstances. "It's a front." She said, shaking Charlie's hand briefly before putting hers on the steering wheel. "If I knew what I was doing I would probably not drive musicians throughout the country for a living."

"That's not what interests you, make a living."

Dorothy shook her head. Charlie was right and she wondered how she had come to this conclusion.

"I don't really know what you're running away from or what you thing you're fleeing, but you won't get rid of me so easily." Charlie said, shaking her knee.

Dorothy didn't reply and for several kilometers they listened the boys chat in the back without being able to determine the topic. Then, eventually:

"You know what I liked about you?"

Charlie waited for her to continue and Dorothy clutched her hands on the wheel. She never spoke of her feelings, perhaps because she had grown up in a family where there was little talk, perhaps to protect herself, she didn't intend to look into the situation. But since they were to give themselves a chance to make work a relationship she believed doomed to failure, she could at least force herself to say that.

"You seemed to not know where you were or what you were doing there. And it didn't seem to bother you to be..." She stopped the time to find the right comparison. "To be like a leaf in the wind." It was stupid, she knew that, but it was the first thing that had come to her mind and she thought that her grandmother would have smiled at the comparison.

Charlie smiled and nodded. "If it bothered me, I wouldn't travel throughout the country with a group of musicians for a living." She said.

For half a second, Dorothy was tempted to stop the bus on the roadside to kiss her. The unexpected arrival of Kevin saved her from it and they didn't really talk during the rest of the way. That night, Dorothy slipped behind the scenes to watch Charlie play. She wasn't really interested in the band's music, but now, in the spotlight, leaning on her bass or kneeling on the edge of the stage to be photographed by fans, she saw a Charlie that for a year she had tried her best to ignore. She found the girl naturally endearing, but it was nothing compared to the bright little thing she had in front of her, only driven by the desire to do the best possible show. Charlie was wrong. Dorothy had no idea what she was doing or where she was going and it was in no way comfortable. She just knew that uncertainty about the future was better than what she left behind her day after day for years. She had sat down on a material crate to watch her partner and felt suddenly sad. She knew perfectly well that her life was a headlong rush. That she'd have to, one day, and probably very soon, decide once and for all who she wanted to be and finally confront some old ghosts clung to her since she had taken the road years earlier.

Settle down. The word only seemed terrifying. The simple thought made her grind her teeth.

But curiously, watching Charlie play, listening to the deep notes of the bass, she found herself thinking that as difficult as it sounded, it would be an ordeal she wouldn't have to face alone if Charlie was also ready to launch with her. Their eyes met briefly, or maybe it was just an effect of her imagination and she smiled. She smiled much more since she had met Charlie.

##

A wind harbinger of rain had risen. Dorothy had always loved the wind. To the amusement of her parents, ever since really small she sometimes stopped in the middle of a sentence to sniff the breeze passing and smiled. Growing up she had learned to differentiate the winds and had secretly assigned them a language and signs. She remembered having talked about it to her grandmother who had smiled and had stroked her hair.

The wet dust-laden wind announcing storms in Oklahoma made her smile like the promise of an adventure. The summer one, scalding, almost stuffy, smelling earth, itched her like it enjoined her to leave as far as possible. It was a windy day like this one that had marked her departure years earlier.

She had traveled thousands of kilometers by listening to different winds without ever telling anyone. But sometimes, like that night, it blurted out.

"It's going to rain." She said while she was driving. The sunset was ending and the sky darkened gradually. There wasn't a cloud in sight and Charlie had a sneer.

"Have your crystal ball serviced."

Dorothy smiled. "You'll see." She lowered her window to breathe the smell of the air and felt a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. Her grandmother called it the inner voice and Dorothy could hear her recommend to listen. Child, she had wondered how she could listen to a voice that didn't utter words. Then she had understood.

She often wondered if the Winchester, and by extension the whole group also listened to that kind of voice. They probably called it inspiration.

At the back of the bus, Sam had fallen asleep curled up in his bed after having lit a candle on the small table at which Dean and Kevin were sitting. The flame flickered to the rhythm of the vehicle bumps and gave off an aroma of cookie being cooked which began to make singer hungry. The sky was darkening, plunging the bus in the dim light without appearing to disturb Kevin in his reading. Dean reached for the switch to turn on the night-light over the head of the young man who thanked him with a brief nod without leaving the page of the eyes. Dean was beginning to fall asleep in his seat until the company reaches the small town where they were to spend the night and eat (and of which he had already forgotten the name) before heading back to Tulsa. It would be one more night in the bunk that was beginning to take the shape of his body, a night less before returning to the Los Angeles apartment.

There were about ten days tour left. Five concerts in three different states, and then, back at home. Maybe it was the smell of cookies that made him vaguely melancholic, or exhaustion, but he crossed his arms, pulled the hood of his sweater over his eyes and let himself be lulled by the purring of the engine and the regular breathing of his brother behind him.

"Hey, Kev?"

"Hum?"

"How did it go with Channing?" He asked, forcing himself to emerge.

"Good."

"And, what else?"

The young man put down his book open, pages against the table and stretched while grumbling. "Not really as I expected."

Dean waited for him to continue. "I really thought I was in love with her, you know."

The singer smiled, thinking he should perhaps wake Sam for him to join in with the conversation, but the idea of uncrossing his arms was already beyond him.

"Actually... Through her, it's probably the image of my old life that I loved you know… As something that you've so idealized that when you finally see it, you're disappointed."

"You've been disappointed?"

Kevin shook his head. "No. Not about her in any case... But it's not what I had expected. It was just as if nothing had changed and that she had come to my home to practice the violin. And it was out of sync. Because I'm not that person anymore. It was like watching all my old dreams in front of me, knowing that I should be proud of what I accomplished. While being almost ashamed of not having been able to follow the path that I had chosen when we were kids."

"You're ashame of us?" Dean joked.

"Not of you. Not of us I mean but... I love my life Dean. I love the life you offered me and I'd change it for nothing in the world. Yet I don't feel like I can be proud of it. We don't change the world, we do nothing more than a little music. I know that's a lot to some, but this isn't what I had dreamed."

Dean nodded thoughtfully.

"None of us are proud of it, to tell the truth." He said. "We all came to the music because we couldn't do anything else. This is what keeps us up, gives us a reason to get up in the morning. I don't think there's something to be proud of, but considering who we are and where we come from, I guess it's at least a satisfaction to have that in our lives."

"A satisfaction." Kevin repeated. "Yes... A satisfaction. I can live with that."

Dean still had his arms crossed, he thoughtfully slipped a hand under his sweater on his hip and touched the small and almost invisible scar from the bone marrow puncture. He was wondering why he had so much trouble to feel any pride for his actions. Why did Castiel see each of his choices as a good thing when he himself felt like he always chose the easy way? Behind him, Sam groaned, sitting up cautiously as the bus was slowing down and was driving into the driveway of a diner in the aftermath of the other trucks. Kevin blew out the candle and the smell of the wick temporarily obliterated the biscuit's.

Charlie got out of the driver cab looking for her shoes and gave a nudge to Sam so that he makes room for her on his bunk while she was putting them. Dean watched the three of them a moment while Sam rubbed his eyes, a child's reflex he had never lost, and that made him look terribly young. They were all terribly young and Dean felt suddenly very old.

"Hey, you ok?" Charlie asked, waving her hand in front of him. He nodded and extracted himself out of his seat, grumbling.

Dorothy came out of the driver cab in turn, pulling her jacket, she remained behind while the others got off the bus, leaving only Dean and her in the faint smell of cookies.

"It's a special night I think." She said.

He nodded. He didn't know exactly why, but the night indeed promised to be special, of those you remember smiling, wondering why they left their mark on you? More than the countless others that you've forgotten?

"We don't leave with the others." The driver talked again. "We take the scenic route to Tulsa."

He grined. "Trying to lead us astray?"

"No need Cowboy, you do that very fine by yourselves." She answered deadpan by gently pushing him to the door. Instinctively he took her hand for her to follow him and he felt her flinch in recoil. "Excuse me." He apologized by releasing her hurriedly. "Sorry..."

She seemed to think for a second before sliding again her hand in his, shaking her head. "I'm just not used to it." She said.

"And I'm too used to it."

She nodded. Dean was one of those people who need physical contact, as light it might be with the people he loved. He didn't even think about it, didn't even realized it and it was touching to see from the outside. The way he leaned close to Kevin as to create shade over him, his ability to fall asleep on Sam's shoulder, and Charlie's hand he held in brushing absent-mindedly the calluses at her fingertips every time they wallowed together to watch a movie. Dean needed contact and Dorothy was strangely comfortable to grant it to him, as if it were a new code them saying that Dean liked her and she was doing him the favor to let him into her personal space. She let go of him when entering the diner and he kept the door opened for her with a smile.

There was an air stream charged with a smell of bacon and she forced herself to not stop to smell it. It was a special night.

She needed coffee.

##

Bobby had thrown them a slightly annoyed look when Dorothy had informed him that they would join the team in Tulsa later in the day without following them that night. She had parked the bus on a camping area near a brazier and Kevin probably would wonder his whole life how she had started a fire this fast with the wet wood of the small and poorly sheltered reserve of the desert camping. Charlie had played to jump over the fire until the flames nearly burn her and Dean forced her to sit at a reasonable distance, beer in hand. The headlights of the bus illuminated them enough to create, around their little group, shadows in which they didn't want to venture. Dorothy had sat down near Charlie and Dean sat on the floor next to Kevin. Sam and Madison were perched beside each other on the hood of the vehicle, slightly in shadow and the fire crackling covered their whispers. Dean was looking at the two couples, Dorothy and Charlie sitting before the fire, Sam and Madison perched on the hood of the bus, their knees drawn up against their chests and Madison gently laughing to something Sam was whispering in her ear.

"What makes you smile?" Kevin asked, bumping into him with his shoulder.

Dean pointed them with the neck of his beer. "I think I'll write a song about it."

"About what?" Charlie asked, looking up. Her face lit by the fire had something a bit twisted that Dorothy's smooth face hadn't.

"About a relationship where one gives strength to the other, and the other brings him some peace."

"Oh please don't turn us into a bobby-soxer group!" The bassist winced.

"You'd love that." Kevin teased. Charlie pretended to throw her beer on his head, a few drops landed in the fire, sizzling.

The subject continued to roll between them without actually reach Madison and Sam on their side of the fire, in fact neither one nor the other listened to the conversation of their friends who quickly gave up on including them to it.

"I feel curiously good." Madison said. Maybe it was the effect of the beer and she made a mental note to reduce her consumption, maybe it was the presence of Sam beside her, or the distant sound of the bus radio broadcasting an old Bruce Springsteen song, anyway she was feeling better than she had been for weeks. "As if I didn't need to escape anything anymore."

This was clearly the beer talking. Dorothy gave her a curious look over the campfire.

"I fled Kurt because I thought it was the more brave I could do. But we're never really free when fleeing... And I don't know why, but I feel that I can stop now."

Sam gave her a light shove. "You're gonna have to toughen up then, or the next blow you'll go back to running."

She smiled and sat up, sliding from the hood to lay her feet on the ground. "Wanna help?" She asked with a smirk. Sam nodded and jumped to his feet. Dorothy watched them turn around each other, pretending to strike blows on either side of the fire, Madison's words stuck in her mind: "We're never really free when fleeing."

Sam stood in the light of the front beams in a defensive position.

"Come on, try to hit me for real, just to see."

Madison shook her head while Dean mumbled a "poser" on the other side of the campfire.

"No way for me to even pretend to fight with you! Have you seen the size of your arms?"

"It's not the arms size that matters." Dean said. "The technique is important. Even you should be able to lay him flat with a good technique."

Madison gave him a puzzled look as he stood up, gently placing his not yet empty can on the floor to advance towards the fire. He motioned her to approach while Sam moved away and she did so, sighing exaggeratedly. Charlie had actuated her phone camera and was filming the scene with a grin. Dean pretended to strike a blow to Madison who dodged it with an abrupt movement, putting her hand on his wrist to repulse it before releasing it.

"No. Stay like this." Sam said behind her. "And turn around him to twist his arm in his back." Dean nodded and let her bend his arm to the small of his back.

"Now, if you go fast enough you don't even need strength to hurt, the movement of your opponent will do the work for you and he'll end up..." Sam stopped half a second to wrap his big hand around the wrist of his brother over Madison's hand and to pull it violently upward. Dean yelped more in surprise than pain and fell in the dust. "On his knees..." ended Sam who had found himself leaning over Madison that Dean's fall had destabilized.

"Fuck Sam you could warn!"

"Sorry." The younger apologized, smiling with no sign of remorse. Kevin and Dorothy smiled while Sam sat up and held out a hand to Madison and the other to Dean to help them back on their feet. Charlie stopped filming and began posting the short video on the band's twitter account. It was a thing they did quite often, share with their fans very brief moments of intimacy with them. They had soon learned that choosing the moments of their lives they showed to their fans spared them some of the assaults of the gutter press.

"Where did you learn that?" Madison said while dusting her pants, frowning. Sam shrugged.

"In bars, like everyone." He answered. That earned him an exasperated sigh from his brother who Madison inquiringly looked at while retrieving her can placed on the ground.

"In the army." He said, motioning her to not ask further questions. Their beers emptied, they returned all to the bus for a night that promised to be short and not really relaxing. It had begun to rain softly and Dorothy adressed to Charlie a sign meaning "See? Told you so!" to which the bassist replied with an annoyed grunt. Dorothy took off her jacket and her shoes before climbing after Charlie on her bunk where they rolled up into a ball, one against the other and fell asleep almost instantly. Kevin was the only one of them to take the time to completely change to go to sleep. Dean, Sam and Madison contented themselves to remove their shoes and slip under the blanket of their bunks, the back of Madison resting against Sam's torso, who had wrapped a leg around her.

"When this alarm clock will ring I'll have the impression of having slept with Satan." She said, leaning back as comfortably as the narrow bunk allowed her to. The body heat of the drummer was already making her sweat.

"If you sleep." Sam said, wedging his forehead against the neck of the young woman.

"You see something else to do right now?"

"I can do a list." He sighed. "But we'll have to be very very quiet."

"I don't really want to be quiet."

Kevin, who was coming out of the small bathroom, stifled a chuckle and passed them to climb on his bunk. Dean drew the curtains of his own with a sharp movement.

"Shut up and keep your hands at decent places." He grumbled.

"Like Cas and you are always decents." Charlie scoffed over him in a sleepy voice.

"I don't mind when it's me and Cas." Dean snapped behind his curtain. Sam and Madison stiffled a laugh. The drummer ran his hands under the shirt of the young woman, leaving them just rest on her stomach, and kissed her neck.

"We'll be indecent later?" He whispered. She felt his eyelashes fluttering against her skin and nodded.

"Later. And not in public."

"You're such a pussy."

She smiled and closed her eyes. She had expected it to be weirder to sleep beside him, or even to not being able to sleep at all. Yet she could feel his breath on her neck and his hands on her belly and it didn't cause her any problems. To say that she felt secure would have been abusing the term, but contrary to what she had feared she didn't feel threatened or scared as she had dreaded after Kurt.

Because Sam wasn't Kurt.

When three hours later Dorothy's alarm clock rang, waking them all with a start, Madison nearly banged her head against Kevin's bunk by leaping up. Sam, still half asleep put a hand on her head and pulled her beside him again while the driver let herself fall out of Charlie's bunk while holding herself by the arms to dampen the sound of her feet touching the ground.

"Do you want some coffee?" Madison proposed in a low voice. In the dim light she only saw Dorothy shake her head.

"Not right now." She whispered before disappearing without turning on the light. The exchange had finally woken Sam who changed his position as gently as possible. Madison turned to face him, her arms trapped against the torso of the drummer whose movement had ridden the t-shirt up. She touched with her fingertips the piercing he had to the navel and the tattooed phoenix head that pointed above his hip. The engine actuated, drowing the noise of their discussion in a low voice out.

"You never told me about the piercings. Do they have a meaning too?" Madison asked, rattling her nails on the little sun that hung down the jewel. Sam smiled.

"No one else ever asked about it."

"Which explains why no one else is here right now." She replied. She had closed her eyes. Anyway it was too dark for her to really see him and they were too close for the angle to not make them squint. It was easier with eyes closed, as if in a dream that she'd have to try to remember the next day. "So?"

"It matched the look. The tattoos, the leather. That's what's expected from someone like me." He said. "It was also a way of throwing my difference to people's faces."

"You mean to your father's face."

She heard him nod. "Men don't wear jewelry or not many in our society, that's exactly why I did this one." He said by tightening Madison's fingers on the sun hung to his navel. "It is a girl piercing and I want people to know that I don't care. And this one..." He pulled the hand of the young woman under his shirt to his chest and to the ring he wore on a nipple, and got a little closer to her to finish his sentence in her ear. "This one is just for pleasure."

She unintentionally pressed the hand on the jewel, causing a jolt and a moan that sent a shiver throughout her body. She opened her eyes maybe half a second to kiss him because at that point she didn't really want to talk anymore. The engine noise would drown for a time the one of their kisses and they knew that they would have to content themselves with that. That would be enough for now.