This thing called love I just can't handle it
this thing called love I must get round to it
I ain't ready
Crazy little thing called love
Rest Area—Day
Dean, Sam, and I wasted no time to pack our things from the motel room, ready to head back out into another part of the world in order to stay out from under the Feds' radar. From Dean and I's conversation earlier about the entire ordeal with the Djinn, I had made a call to Bobby to meet us with Megan. Seeing Dean in distress about the welfare of Megan wasn't going to go unnoticed. Hearing him recount it—feeling my chest clench and blood turn cold just as he did—was enough to know it felt real to him.
Dean wasn't the kind of person to be told countless times that someone was okay and go about his day; he needed physical verification. It was a normal occurrence between the three of us; especially when a job would go south, and one of us—meaning Sam or me—got hurt in some way. This was one of those occasions; however, it wasn't the hunter in him freaking out. It was his dad side shining brightly. That side, I adored with everything in me.
Cinnamon caressed my senses upon lifting a large cup of coffee to my lips, taking a long drink. Vanilla, sugar, and cinnamon coated my taste buds like a warm, euphoric blanket. It wasn't necessarily that kick I needed to be fully awake, but it was a little nudge to get the engine going. I sat the cup back between my legs, hearing the vehicles from the interstate pass by along with several families talking amongst each other that had recently stopped and got out to stretch their legs.
I turned the page of a book I was reading to pass the time, "What's taking him so long?" My eyes flickered from a book I was reading to an impatient Winchester. I glanced at Sam, who wore an amused look.
I smirked, "Dean, Bobby is drivin' all the way from Sioux Falls; you gotta be patient."
A pair of hazel orbs narrowed at me from the rearview mirror, "I'm not impatient, you're impatient."
I chuckled, closing my book and set it beside me in the seat, "Bobby said he was ten minutes out; that's a song and a half accordin' to Black Sabbath," I summarized, "Listen to them and he'll be here."
A thoughtful expression fell on his face as he tilted his head, "Or, just sit there and quit bein' a brat," I concluded as Sam chuckled from his perch in the passenger seat.
"I vote for the second option," Sam teased, earning a sarcastic laugh from Dean.
"Oh, ha-ha," He quipped, turning to look at the both of us, "A little Black Sabbath never hurt anyone,"
"No," Sam agreed, "But fifteen hours of the same songs will drive a person crazy."
"Says the one who-There's Bobby," Dean cut himself off, practically jumping out of the car when a familiar Nova pulled into the rest area. Sam and I exchanged amused glances, seeing how eager Dean was. Granted, we were just as excited, but Dean was like a kid in a toy store. When he and I got out, Dean was already halfway across the parking lot.
"He isn't a bit impatient, is he?" Sam murmured.
I wrapped my jacket around me a little tighter, "Not at all," I mused seeing Bobby step out from the driver's seat of the car to greet Dean. Sam and I approached as Bobby and Dean shook hands. Both men turned to us.
I grinned tiredly at Bobby, "Hi, Bobby," I greeted him, wrapping my arms around the gruff man.
"Hey, girl," he greeted me, wrapping his arms around me, "I was telling knucklehead that Megan's been asleep the last hour," We stepped back as Sam and he shook hands.
"Has she had any issues?" I asked, feeling Dean's arm wrap around my waist.
Bobby rubbed his chin, "Fussy, but that's any being in that car-seat for four hours, just got to sleep about thirty minutes ago," The four of us looked at us for a moment, scanning the small groups of people that were hanging around the entrances of the bathrooms or walking their pets.
"What's the news been saying?" Sam asked, "About, you know…"
Bobby shrugged, "Same old, same old—nationwide search for you three, no luck yet." The three of us exchanged pensive glances, "Which is why I'm wondering why you're risking your necks as well as Megan's."
"Ah, you know, Abigail missed her—couldn't sleep," Dean boasted with a chuckle. I blinked, not believing what I was hearing. I missed her that part was true, but the last eight hours Dean was like a caged animal; pacing, grumbling incoherently and whining how slow Bobby was being.
The gruff man stared at Dean with a raised brow, knowing that it had been him since I was the one who had called earlier that morning, explaining everything to him, "Uh-huh," he replied.
A muffled cry interrupted whatever Dean was going to say, causing us to turn and look into the car, noticing that Megan had woken up—extremely pissed off. I started to move for the car out of instinct, only for Dean to beat me to it, "I got it," He said quickly, dropping his arm from my waist.
I relented, watching him duck into the car, greeting our fussy child, "Hey, princess!" I heard him speak to our daughter with enthusiasm, "Wanna break out of this stupid thing?" Megan wailed a second longer, quieting down as soon as Dean started talking to her, "Yeah, Dad knows you do," Dean backed away a few steps with Megan in his arms, a relieved lop-sided grin gracing his features. Megan wiped her face with the back of her hand, scrunching her nose as she did, huffing and puffing.
Bobby, Sam and I watched him interact with her, to which Dean paid us no mind, "Dad's got ya," I heard him say in the softest voice, "I'm never gonna let you out of my sight," My chest clenched as I remembered what Dean had said about Megan. I felt my throat close, knowing Dean was close to tears holding her, "I missed you, princess," The two of them walked off, heading towards a grassy area away from us.
"Thanks for meetin' us, Bobby," I turned to him, "Especially on this short of notice,"
Bobby waved dismissively, "Don't worry about it. Feels nice to get out," He replied then scratched his chin, "Speaking of out, there's a job a couple of hours away—think I might take it."
Sam turned, "Let us know if you need any help."
Bobby nodded, "Will do. You three take care, and be careful—especially with that baby."
"You know we will," I reassured him, noticing a brief look of sadness sweep across the older man's face. He was going to miss her company, no doubt. Sam and I got Megan's things from the trunk and the backseat wishing Bobby farewell for now. We watched as Bobby drove away, getting back onto the interstate.
"He must've been pretty shaken up," Sam commented, nodding to his brother as he and I walked back to the Impala.
I nodded minutely, "He is," Opening the trunk, Sam put the pack and play in as well as a small bag full of her clothes and a few toys. He closed it as I strapped in her car seat, then straightened up, "I couldn't imagine what he saw, you know?"
Sam's brows knitted sympathetically, "Yeah," He agreed, "Thinking that Megan wasn't alive…" He shook his head at the thought, his shaggy hair falling into his eyes, "I really can't bring myself to think about it."
"Me either," I murmured, wrapping my arms around myself, "I get sick thinkin' about it."
Sam placed a hand on my shoulder, "Nothing's gonna happen to her, Abs, that I can promise," I met his reassuring gaze with a small smile, placing my hand on his and squeezed it gently.
"No, no, no," I heard Dean's voice come closer, "You're not supposed to eat the flower, goofy," Sam and I looked to see Dean approaching us, grinning, with Megan in his arms holding a small flower out of her reach, "You're supposed to give it to mom," He glanced up, noticing that we were watching; that boyish grin in place as he stopped, placing the flower in her hand, then held it out to me, "She tried to eat the flower, but, uh, yeah…here's a flower."
Sam's brows rose at his brother. At times, I think tiny gestures like this still astounded him. I mean, this was Dean we were talking about.
I grinned like a shy schoolgirl, knowing my face had to have been the shade of a beet as I took the small flower from my daughter's hand—that was held by my fiancé, "Thank you, my love," I planted a gentle kiss on her cheek, then looked at Dean with a grin and kissed him on the lips, "Thank you, Papa-Bear." I said, pulling away.
Dean let out a chuckle, glancing down to the space between us almost in a bashful way, "Ah, well, you know," His grin reached his eyes, the corners of them crinkling when he was truly happy, "Gotta spoil my girls," Dean saw Sam's smug expression, causing him to clear his throat, "But anyways…we should, uh, find another place for today," Dean glanced between Sam and me, straight-faced, then motioned to the car.
He started before us.
Sam turned to me with raised brows, grinning, as I returned his smug expression with a simple shrug. Getting Megan into the car, the three of us got in, leaving the rest stop before anyone could get a good look at us. It hadn't been a few hours later, however, that Megan became fussy once again; screaming over the top of Guns N' Roses as we pulled into an off the grid cabin rental somewhere in the Ozarks of Arkansas.
"I got it," Sam told us, getting out of the car and walked into the main office.
"Once more, I stand by my comment on Megan being a frontman for Judas Priest," Dean commented as I unbuckled Megan, taking her out of her car seat.
"You got a wet booty, little woman," I said to her as her wails calmed down into whimpers, wiping her face against my shoulder, "I know, we'll get you a fresh dipey as soon as we get a place," I sat her on my lap, facing towards me so that she could lay on my chest; my right hand patting her back.
Sam came out from office, sliding back into the front seat, "So, uh, I got us a basic cabin; two rooms, one bathroom. Nothing fancy." We pulled away from the office, "It's the first cabin on the left," Sam told him. Pulling up to the cabin, Sam didn't go wrong on it. It had a wrap-around porch, minimal porch accommodations.
Nothing fancy, for sure.
Inside though was a real treat. Hardwood floors lined the entire place. Rustic odds and ends decorated the walls with a black bear or moose themed curtains and knickknacks. For the size, it was spacious with an open floor plan; the kitchen and living room melded into each other with the bedrooms, I assumed split off by another room in the middle—the bathroom. Nice didn't even cover it. A cozy wood-stove sat in the corner where the couches were centered around it.
Dean let out a low whistle, taking in the cabin, "Sammy, my boy, you have outdone yourself," He clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder with a chuckle, taking no time to settle himself in. Dean shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it on a nearby chair as he kneeled in front of the stove to begin a fire. I watched him get a small flame started, setting it inside before grabbing a few pieces of wood; stacking them on top of each other before he sat down in a recliner with a grunt, letting out the independent footstool as he stretched out, "I didn't think I needed this, but I do."
Sam made his way through the cabin, looking at every little detail before stepping into one of the adjacent bedrooms, "This one's mine," He called out, earning a look from Dean after a thump from his duffle bag hitting floor caught his attention.
His gaze fell on me, "Don't let him take the good room,"
I rolled my eyes at him, sidling myself and Megan down onto the couch, "Sure thing," I replied getting my daughter out of her outfit, "Don't you pee on me, little woman."
Megan peered down at me with a grin, "I good."
I grinned at her, tickling her sides, "I know you're good, but you like to pee on me every time I change your butt," Megan let out a loud cackle as I poked her sides up into her armpits; her arms and legs thrashing about. I laughed at her, leaning over and kissed her forehead, "Mommy loves you."
I felt a pool of warmth swirl in my chest knowing that it was from Dean. Megan and I's interaction wasn't going unnoticed. Dean looked on in a silent reverie like he was witnessing a marvel of nature. I looked at him from over my shoulder, "Do you care to grab a fresh diaper?"
He blinked, looking over his shoulder and around for the diaper bag until his eyes rested on it close to his boots, "Sure thing, doll-face." He replied, more than eager to grab a diaper and be included. Handing it to me, Dean kissed my temple before settling down above Megan, who locked in on him as he sat down.
She careened her head backward in order to see her father better, "Dah!" She sighed out with a slobbery grin. I noticed the corners of Dean's eyes crinkling as he grinned at his daughter.
"I'm here beautiful, always," Dean told her in an unspoken promise. His hand cupped her cheek with the utmost tenderness as he spoke. That was when she decided to roll over towards the inside of the couch in one swift movement.
"Sister-child, what do you think you're doin'?" I laughed, watching Dean's brows rise with how quick she was at rolling over.
"She's getting better about that, isn't she?" Dean asked, his eyes falling on me as I nodded, smiling as he scooped her up, diaperless.
I folded up her used diaper, brushing a stray hair from my face with the back of my hand, "Yeah, she's gettin' the hang of the whole rollin' over and crawlin'. She's definitely driven, like her daddy." I mused, watching the father-daughter duo interact this time. Dean was all eyes on her and then some.
Megan couldn't have wanted a better father.
Or a better uncle.
Sam walked out of his newly claimed room, completely dressed in gray lounge pants and a simple black shirt. He paused at the kitchen, watching his brother and niece with a familiar curiosity that often still remained reserved for Dean and I. It wasn't so much of it being curiosity; it was more awe than anything. Sam knew Dean could be a force of nature, which, to see him in such a tender state with Megan, it always surprised him in different aspects. The small smile that was tugging at his lips seemed to have widened further when Megan's attention turned to him, "Am!" She more or less shrieked it.
Dean and I cringed from how shrill her shriek was, while Sam let out a soft sound of surprise, "Did she just-?"
I pursed my lips at her, "My child can say 'Dah' and 'am' and 'I good', but she can't say 'Mom'," I feigned frustration, resting my chin on the heel of my palms, "I carried her for seven months and this is what I get."
Dean chuckled and Sam was on cloud nine from Megan saying his name...somewhat.
"Hey, Butterball," Sam greeted her, "You can say my name now," Dean handed her to him, watching as Sam held her close with a childlike grin on his face, "I'm so proud of you."
"My kid isn't a butterball," Dean chided, obviously still chafed about his brother's nickname for our daughter, "Stop callin' her that."
Sam's eyes flew up to the ceiling in response as he walked around the cabin with Megan in his arms. She was so small compared to Sam's large frame, which, Megan was always dwarfed by any of us despite her growing at an astonishing rate. For her to be seven months old—a preemie—Megan was in the top percentile of infants in her age group. It was an honest miracle of her being this healthy considering the circumstances of her birth.
The sheer thought of her growing up as fast as she is broke Dean's heart, and it showed with each passing day or each new milestone she reached.I don't think he was fully prepared for that when she was born, or whenever I was pregnant. I don't think either of us was.
"So, um, guys," Sam's voice pulled me away from my thoughts, causing me to blink a few times in order to turn my attention to him. He stood behind the island in the kitchen with Megan secure in his arms, "If you guys want the day off, I don't care to watch Megan for a few hours," I raised my brows at Sam's offer, sending a glance of consideration to Dean. Who, in turn, seemed a little on edge, "That is," Sam inclined his head, "if you guys want."
Dean ran a hand down his face, "I don't know, Sammy, I mean, I, I mean, we," He corrected himself, gesturing his hand between himself and me, "just got her back."
"It's not like I'm twisting your arm, Dean," Sam deadpanned, "I just made an offer to spend some time with my niece tomorrow, and let you two-" his sentence broke off as he waved his hand at us insinuating whatever.
"I don't know," I spoke gently, "I mean, Dean's right, we did just run Bobby plum from Sioux Falls to bring her," I felt my stomach twist comfortably, "Maybe-"
Dean's hand found my knee, patting it, "I don't know, Abs, I'm pretty sure I saw a few trails around here. Would be nice to get out for a few hours..."
"Yeah," Sam chirped in rather quickly, "I mean, there's a small playground, kind of, that I could take her to, and you guys could, you know," He shrugged minutely, "Hike, or whatever."
I raised my brow at them, bewildered by their weird behavior all of a sudden, "Um, okay? I guess?" Sam's mouth tipped up into a boyish grin, peering down at Megan while Dean seemed a bit off still. Anxious maybe? Not exactly sure what about, "Y'all are bein' too weird for me, and I know I have a long night ahead due to a velociraptor—" I pointed to the bathroom in between of the two rooms, "I'm going to go bath."
Dean and Sam watched with curiosity as I got up, leaving the room to grab one of Dean's shirts and my lounge pants, which also happens to be Dean's. Not that it swallowed me alive like Sam's clothes do or anything, cause it does. I exited the bedroom, catching glimpses of Dean giving his brother a pointed look, while Sam migrated from the kitchen to the recliner. I rolled my eyes at them.
What could I say? They were dorks.
Dean's Point of View
Once the bathroom door closed and the sound of it locking, I let out a frustrated breath, "Dude, you don't realize how close you blew it."
Sam blinked a few times before his face twisted into a confused expression, "Dude, no I didn't-you did." I scoffed, getting up from my place on the couch, crossing the room and into the kitchen in search of a beer, "It's a wonder she didn't catch on."
"Oh, she knows something's up," I retorted, opening the refrigerator to see it stocked with Natural Light. I grimaced. They could've at least put in a good brand, "It's only a matter of time before she snuffs out the weak one."
"Which would be you," I heard my brother say from his seat.
I rolled my eyes, "Oh, no. Not me. You are the weakest link here, baby bro." I cracked open the can, taking a pull of the drink, "One look from her, and you crumble." I added, running a hand over my mouth as I walked back to the couch. I let out a grunt, propping my feet up on the table. I met my brother's incredulous expression with a simple shrug, "You can't lie when I say Abs has this," I waved my hand nonchalantly, "look to her when she knows something's up."
Sam shook his head, holding Megan in his arms with a soft chuckle, "No, I guess I can't say that she doesn't. I mean, she's lived with us for how many years?"
"Thirteen," I answered rather quickly. Sam raised his brows, "What?" I asked, getting uncomfortable.
Sam's mouth held a minute smile, "Nothing," he replied, shaking his head so that his shaggy hair fell down on his face. I arched a brow at him.
He really needs to cut his hair, I thought, taking another pull of beer.
"I mean, it's funny..." Sam began.
"What's funny?" I queried.
He looked up, "It's just...I never thought that you know..." Sam's sentence trailed off, leaving me to figure out the rest.
"Me and Abigail?" I more or less asked, rather than finished for him.
Sam nodded, "Yeah, I mean, you two were always at each other's throats." I raised my brows, nodding in response. Boy was he right about that one, "Now, you two have a child and you want to propose to her."
I held up a hand, "Correction on that," I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees, "I already have, sort of proposed..."
Sam's face twisted in confusion, "Sort of?"
I inclined my head, "Yeah."
"When was this?" He asked, bouncing his leg with Megan, who had begun to make noises.
I scrubbed my face trying to remember right off, "Uh, back at Charlie's after that spiel in Baltimore."
Sam pulled a look, "Wow," He smirked, "I'm proud you didn't blow it."
"Oh ha ha," I retorted, "I can think for myself sometimes, Sam."
"Well," My brother insisted with a raised brow. I frowned at him. Sam grinned, eager for some odd reason.
"Well, what?" I asked, genuinely confused.
"The ring? Let's see it. I know you have one, or you wouldn't have made all of these plans," He urged, shifting in the recliner as Megan cooed, speaking in her usual gibberish as he switched knees; pointing me out to her with a sly grin, "Tell your dad to show it off."
Megan offered a toothless grin, clapping her hands together in her naivety.
"You heard the boss lady," Sam insisted.
I chuckled, "I guess I can't argue with that." I threw a hesitant glance over my shoulder in order to make sure that Abigail wasn't getting out of the shower. I heard her singing to herself—Crazy by Patsy Cline. I smiled to myself. She had been on this big Patsy Cline kick for the last week, but to hear her sing it, it was enough to put me down on my knees. In another aspect, I was almost tempted to join her, but I had other things to address. I twisted back around, reaching for my jacket that was lying haphazardly on the arm of the sofa.
Sam's brows rose almost in shock when I searched through each pocket, frowning.
"Don't tell me you lost it," Sam deadpanned.
I felt a surge of panic rise in my chest, "Dude, don't say that" I hissed. For whatever reason, my stomach knotted up. There was no way I could've lost the ring, "I know I didn't lose it." I muttered, fumbling with all of the pockets. I had the damned thing on me twenty-four seven. I unzipped pockets, patted each nook and cranny until I felt the hard, square box and a wave of relief washed over me.
I held the box in my hand, staring at it momentarily. Sam practically gawked at it like it was some kind of ancient relic from the catacombs of Egypt, "Let's see it."
With furrowed brows, I gave him a pointed look, "Okay, okay. Jesus, Francis." I opened the small box, revealing the ring. Sam reached for it, taking it in his hands as if it were going to shatter into a million pieces. The ring itself was simple, nothing extravagant.
The band was hammered sterling silver with a fairly good-sized gemstone in the middle—opal. Abigail wasn't into the extravagance of diamonds or anything ritzy. She was more of the non-traditional/nonconventional type. If anything she would've been satisfied with a ring pop.
I cleared my throat, "So, uh," I met Sam's look, "You think she's going to like it?"
Sam's disposition softened as he handed the box to me,"Dean...she's going to love it."
Hope rose in my chest, "You think so?"
My brother nodded with a smile, "Yes," he responded, then tilted his head, "Although a ring pop would suffice for her, too." His smile widened, as did mine, "So, I think in all good favor, you hit the nail on the head."
I snapped it shut, tucking it back into my coat pocket, "Good," I murmured. Silence fell between us Sam turned his attention back to Megan, who in turn gave him a toothless grin, catching a fistful of hair.
"Hey!" Sam winced when Megan flailed her fist, "Ow, ow, ow!"
I chuckled, "You wouldn't have that problem if you trimmed your hair," Sam cornered his eyes at me, wincing again, "Just one-"
"No, Dean," Sam's pained response was shortened when Megan more or less punched in the nose. He yelped, holding her in one arm while he rubbed his nose gingerly with the other, blinking away reactionary tears, "She's small, but she's strong."
"Uh, yeah. Have you seen her mom?" I asked raising my brows at him, "If she's anything like Abs, she's going to be a tank."
Sam let out a loud chuckle, "You have a good point," he commented, taking his hair out of Megan's fist, "You're too strong for your own good, Butterball."
I rolled my eyes at his nickname for my daughter. She wasn't fat. She was healthy. I set my empty can on the table, motioning Sam to hand over Megan,"Alright, Tiny, give me my kid." Sam knitted his brows at me, "Abs will think I'm slacking on parent duty." I took Megan in my arms holding her closely when she let out a contented sigh, resting her head on my shoulder very briefly.
"I highly doubt I will," Abigail's voice chimed in after the scent of vanilla wafted into the room. My eyes widened at the thought of Abigail listening in to mine and Sam's conversation, twisting around to see her emerging from the bathroom with a towel turbaned on her head.
Megan lifted her head off my shoulder as soon as she heard Abigail. She let out an excited sound that resembled something like, ah! Like I said, the moment of her laying her head on my shoulder was brief. Abigail smiled warmly to her, earning a bashful giggle and buried her face into my neck after hearing Abigail say, "Hi, my love!"
I placed a hand on her back, chuckling at how quick our daughter was to be so bashful after reigning terror on Sam not even a moment ago. Megan was something else. If anything, what she gained in her appearance, she had also gained in attitude. She was a perfect mix of Abigail and me.
I took the moment to take in Abigail features the second she approached us; she had on a shirt of mine, as well as a pair of lounge pants. She literally never wears any of her clothes, which is fine by me any time of day. Hell, she looks better in them than I do.
Abigail held a tired disposition these days, which came along with the task of being both hunter and mother, yet she always managed to brighten the room she was in; didn't matter where it was. Her cheeks and nose were rosy from the heat of her shower. Abigail ran her fingertips along the length of my arm and shoulder before she paused to place a gentle kiss to my temple, then the top of Megan's and peppermint filled my senses once more when she moved away, leaving a trail of electricity in her touch's wake.
When she came to us, she paused at Sam, ruffling his hair.
"What? Hey!" Sam made a sound of protest, swatting her away from him, a grin marring the 'oh-so-serious' glower on his face, "You're such a nerd!"
Abigail hurried over to the couch with a teasing grin as she tucked herself protectively behind me, giggling like a schoolkid as she peered over Megan to see Sam shaking his head with a chuckle, smoothing down his hair, "Quit bein' such a dork, dork!"
Sam met her response with a playful scoff. Megan giggled at Abigail, practically bending herself sideways into Abigail's arms.
"Hi, chipmunk!" Abigail held Megan against her, placing a series of kisses on Megan's neck. Obviously, it tickled her like so many times before as she let out a cackle, wriggling in her mother's arms. Abigail stopped, grinning widely at our daughter. Megan placed a hand over Abs' mouth, in turn giggling when she blew a raspberry on Megan's hand. Their laughs filled the cabin's interior like notes in a church choir.
I didn't know about Sam, but moments like this were the reasons that kept me going. I didn't have to worry about the horrors of the world around us. My brother, the woman that I loved, and my daughter were all safe with me. My life couldn't have been any better as it was in this moment. The three of them were the center of my universe. They were the only reason I could find it in myself to love someone. I would live and die for them, no questions asked.
Sam blew out a breath signifying that he was about to turn in for the night. He gave me a look, motioning his chin to Abigail when she wasn't paying attention. I returned the look with one of exasperation. These things weren't going to go over that smoothly. Sam rolled his eyes, pressing his mouth into a thin line, before replacing his irritated expression with exhaustion when Abigail had looked our way—oblivious.
"Well," Sam began with a 'stretch', "I guess I'm going to turn in."
Abigail smiled warmly, "Alright, don't let the bedbugs bite, Sammy."
Sam rose to his feet, "I'll see you guys in the morning."
I gave him a curt nod, "Sure thing, and, uh, thanks for offering to watch peanut tomorrow." Sam's mouth tipped up into a small smile, returning my appreciation with a nod before he left us in the living area of the cabin, closing the door to his room behind him.
Abigail's gaze fell on me with a soft smile caressing her lips, "You're amazin'," She touched the side of my face, "you know that?"
I let out a soft chuckle, "I wouldn't quite say that, doll-face, but thanks."
"You are," She insisted, "You're everythin' we could ever want," Abigail ran her thumb across my skin as she spoke, "Megan couldn't ask for a better father, and I couldn't ask for a better man."
I gazed at her in silence. As much as that made my heart soar and my chest swell with pride, it would simmer down as quickly as it happened. Out of the blue, the thought that she could do better crossed my mind. In all reality, I probably didn't deserve-
"Dean, stop thinkin' bad thoughts," Abigail pulled me from my thoughts. I blinked at her a few times, almost in surprise. I was dating an empath. Not only that, this woman knew me better than I knew myself sometimes, "You gotta get yourself out of that place. We're all safe. We're in good health, tired maybe, but healthy."
"Abs, I can't help it," I admitted to her, watching Megan's eyes flutter. She was getting sleepy. Or was. She drug her face against Abigail's chest, whimpering out of her own stubbornness, "In some ways, I feel like I don't deserve you, or Megan. I mean," I furrowed my brows, recollecting the dream world I was in, "Abs, where we were at in the dream world, we weren't in a good place. I mean, not really if you thought about it." My chest squeezed painfully, remembering Megan's absence, "For whatever reason, I can't come to grips with everything."
Abigail fell silent, soaking in everything I had said. Running a hand absent-mindedly along Megan's back, patting it every so often, Megan was out like a light, "Dean, the bright side to all of this, is that this is real," Her eyes scanned the cabin's interior, "Just as sure as you're sittin' here with me and Megan, just as sure as Sam is snorin' in his room—it's real. You don't have to worry about Sam being a pompous college boy, even though he kinda was."
She then tilted her head in reconsideration, earning a soft chuckle from me, "You don't gotta be scared about Megan not makin' it, because she's here," Abigail took my hand, placing it on our sleeping daughter's back in reassurance, "and one thing for sure, is that I don't hate you," Piercing blue eyes held mine with such admiration and adoration, "because I love you, and I would follow you to the ends of the earth, even into Hell itself, if needed." Her hand clasped over mine, bringing it up to her lips in a delicate kiss, "I love you, Dean."
I squeezed her hand, "I love you, Abigail."
Abigail peered down at Megan for a moment, her hand still holding mine, "I think it's safe to say, this little woman is out like a light, which means, we should probably do the same if we are to go hikin' tomorrow."
I raised a brow at her, "You still want to do that?"
Abigail's shoulders lifted in a half-assed shrug, "When don't I want to go hikin'?"
"Considering you're still dealing with a bum ankle, I figured you'd try something else," I replied with a grin.
"Like?" She requested.
My grin widened, "Oh, you know, a day in the bed for starters," Abigail hummed, laying her head on my shoulder, "Breakfast in bed. A good old-fashioned massage. You know, the works."
"Oh, really?"
I hummed in response, "Definitely."
"Well, what are we waitin' for?" She queried with a grin. I chuckled, getting to my feet with a grimace from sitting in the position I was in for so long.
"Lemme get Peanut," I gestured towards Megan. Abigail glanced at her then back to me, slowly pushing herself upright so that I could carefully take our sleeping daughter from her arms and into mine. I took a moment to let her get adjusted, feeling her tiny form wriggle against me until she stopped letting out a soft, sleepy coo.
Abigail then rose to her feet, stretching for a moment before she stared at me, smiling. "What?"
She shook her head, "Nothin', just admirin' what I'm seein'." I placed a hand on her cheek. Abigail closed her eyes, savoring my touch just as I did with hers. I couldn't explain to anyone the sensation that swirled in my chest from everything. To see the amount of love radiating from her and Megan, reserved solely for me, was a detrimental sensation. If they only knew how I felt about them...
She took my hand in hers once more; "Tell me, Papa-Bear," She began to lead us towards our room, "What exactly do you have planned for tomorrow?"
I hummed, "For starters, let's get little tyke down for bed. Then after that, the fun will begin."
Abigail tossed a sultry glance from over her shoulder, "Oh, really?"
We paused in front of our room.
I grinned salaciously, "Oh, definitely." She stood on the tips of her toes, capturing my mouth with hers in a quick kiss. A ball of warmth swirled at the pit of my stomach.
"Well, what are you waiting for?" She teased after pulling away.
"I'm right behind ya," I told her, closing the door behind us.
Sam's Point of View
Cabin—Morning
"The manhunt for the suspects of what appears to be the next America's Most Wanted, Samuel and Dean Winchester continues, as well as the search for their accomplice, Abigail Colt. If you have any information pertaining to their whereabouts, please call the Little Rock Police Department at 501-555-4830."
With a shake of my head, I flipped through the channels before settling on The Quick and The Dead. Worry was something that sort of resided in me as of late—like some kind of nagging feeling, really. Numerous things ran rampant. I constantly worried over numerous what-ifs; what if the feds caught up to us, what if we were caught with Megan present. I mean, it was just a constant thing that was slowly becoming normal since everything back at the detention center.
I shook my head again, stowing the nagging sensation once again. I brought the small cup of coffee to my lips. The rich scent of the dark roast invaded my senses until I took a sip of the hot liquid. Despite it being a dark roast, it was a rich caramel color from the evaporated milk Abigail constantly had available for the road.
Sugar was the next thing to coat my senses. Out of the three of us, Abigail and I were the only ones that drank our coffee with an enormous amount of sugar in it—which is almost embarrassing to admit.
"Morning," I nearly choked on coffee, licking away the 'mustache' and turned, seeing Dean emerge from his and Abigail's bedroom. I blinked, glancing at my watch.
"You're up early," I commented, watching my brother move around the kitchen in search of a cup. Dean let out a short grunt, finding one and poured himself coffee. He took a drink as he crossed the room, settling down into the recliner, "Abigail and the baby still asleep?"
Dean's eyes flitted from the television screen to me, "Yeah," His hand ran down his face in an attempt to wake him up further, "Didn't go to bed until..." My brother's sentence failed. Gauging his satisfied smirk, I really didn't want to press it.
I held up a hand when he snapped out of his thoughts, "I don't need details of what you and Abigail do behind closed doors."
Dean smirked, "Hey, your loss."
I shook my head, "No, not my loss."
"I'll agree to disagree," My brother grinned, raising his brows in a salacious manner.
I rolled my eyes at him, "You may need to have a change of plans," I changed the subject, earning a confused look.
Dean took a drink of coffee, "What do you mean?"
"It's supposed to rain today; light drizzle," Dean thought for a moment, hefting his shoulders in a high shrug.
"It should be fine," He glanced out of the window, taking note of the fine mist of rain that was already taking place, "Call her bit of a romantic, but she loves a good walk in the rain."
I chuckled, taking a drink of my coffee, "Guess it's a good thing then, huh?"
Dean nodded.
Romantics weren't my brother's forte by any means. However, he's managed to slide by this long. Which, in Abigail's case, meant more to her for the simple fact that it was the thought that counted. In fact, here in the last year or so, I don't think I have ever seen her not like anything Dean had done in his way of trying to be 'romantic'.
I had to give him credit where credit was due—he and Abigail had Megan as a result as to how far as his romanticism went. Still. It just seemed...odd. At least, to me it was.
"Sammy, I realize this still seems odd to you," Dean began. I blinked, stunned that he called out how I felt, "I mean, you were what, eighteen when you left?" He asked. I nodded, "Abs and I were still at each other's throats at the time. Then when we brought you back into this, and all of a sudden, we're together. Abs ends up pregnant and everything in between happens to us..."
Dean's sentence trailed off once more, drifting off into his thoughts before he let out a breath, "What I'm trying to say is that, I feel like I'm ready to settle down, Sammy. To take a break from everything," His gaze fell on me, unwavering and sincere, "and I want to spend the rest of my life with Abigail; give Megan the life we didn't have."
"Wow," I murmured, "You're willing to stop hunting?"
Dean slowly nodded his head, "Yeah."
I smirked, "Boy, that Djinn must've scared you straight."
"Dude," My brother rolled his eyes, "No, it didn't, thanks for your concern." He rose to his feet, heading back into the kitchen, "and for your information, I've had this planned for months." He pointed to me, "I just figured this would be just as a good time as any other to finally seal the deal—I mean, really seal the deal."
"I get it, Dean, I really do," I took another drink. I was truly happy for my brother. I never thought he would ever want to 'settle down', "I couldn't be happier for you and Abigail." I noticed him rummaging through the cabinets with a deep frown, "Um, what're you doing?"
"Looking for food," came his reply, "I told her I'd make breakfast in bed, but it's looking to be improbable," He turned towards me with an irritated expression, "How hard is it to keep a cabinet stocked?"
"Usually places like this, it's 'bring your own food or starve'," I teased, seeing his expression change from irritated to frustrated, maybe even anxious, "Have you checked the cooler Abigail keeps in the trunk?"
Dean paused his crusade for edibles in the cabinets.
"You forgot about that, didn't you?"
My brother's mouth pursed like he had eaten a lemon, "No," I raised a brow at him, "Maybe," I then smirked at him as he grabbed his jacket and keys, "Shut up." He pulled his boots on, exiting the cabin briefly.
I chuckled.
Dean entered a few moments later carrying an armful of stuff; a small carton of eggs, bacon, bologna, and a can of biscuits. I watched in amusement as he laid the stuff he had gotten from the cooler, down on the counter and searched for something to cook with. His attempts had gone unsuccessful. Dean flung his hands up; exasperated, letting them fall, slapping his legs, "Oh, C'mon!"
He exited the cabin once again, muttering curses under his breath.
Taking another drink of coffee, I heard the floor creak from behind. Turning, I saw Abigail step out from their room with Megan tucked against her. She rubbed each eye with the heel of her palm, yawning.
"Morning," I greeted her.
"Mornin', Sammy," Abigail blinked a couple of times, then looked around with a confused expression, "Where's Dean?"
"He's out at the Impala looking for a pan to cook in," I replied.
"What for?" She asked.
I cleared my throat, "Um, breakfast in bed? With you?"
Abigail's face went from confusion to realization, pulling a visual grimace, "I completely forgot about that. Crap." She ran her free hand through her tangled hair, glancing to the door, "Do I still have time to get back in the bed?"
I shrugged, "Should be."
"'kay, well," Abigail motioned to the bedroom with her chin, "I guess I'm goin' back to bed then," Megan peeked from below Abigail's chin chewing on her index finger. I waved at her, earning a quick grin before she ducked her face into Abigail's neck. I watched as Abigail turned to head back, stopping short of the door, before she glanced back at me with a scrunched face hinting confusion, "Sam, what's the occasion?"
"Huh?" I was taken off guard by her sudden question, gazing at her with knitted brows.
She shrugged, "Dean normally doesn't try to woo me unless he has somethin' up his sleeve," I shifted in my seat. Maybe she's catching on, "I mean, what'd I do to deserve it?"
I smiled at her, "Dean loves appreciates you with all that you do for us," I answered easily, "He just wants to show his appreciation by making the day about you is all."
Abigail's skin flushed a rosy pink as she nodded, "Okay," She stroked Megan's hair, "Thanks, Sammy."
"No problem, Abby," I replied when she entered hers and Dean's room, shutting the door. About that time, Dean walked back in, running a hand through his hair to rid it of any excess water from the rain. In his other hand, he held a couple of small pans, a spatula, and a stick of…butter? I knitted my brows, "Did you raid a kitchen?"
Dean rolled his eyes, "Ha ha, funny," My brother moved over to the counter where he laid everything out. The expression on his face was almost laughable. His brows were furrowed, mouth pursed all the while he had folded his arms in deep concentration—probably trying to figure out what he was going to do first.
I chuckled, "You know, I would start with the biscuits first," Dean looked up at me, "They cook the longest."
"Thanks for stating the obvious;" Dean responded in a dry tone, "I know that."
I raised my hands in defense, "Hey, I'm just trying to help."
Dean pulled a face, picking up the biscuits. He pulled the paper off of the can, squeezing it until it made a loud popping sound—which, I'm not going to lie, made the both of us jump. Dean then took each perfectly portioned dough round, placing each one within the pan. He turned to the oven where he clicked it on the recommended heat, then turned back to the counter where he then took part of the butter, placing it in the other pan.
It took him a few minutes to get everything started, but from the smell of the bacon, it started to make me hungry.
"Y'know, Abigail makes this look so easy," Dean commented after getting popped by bacon grease. He turned to me with a frustrated expression, waving his splattered hand to the side, "You don't really hear her complain about getting popped."
"She really doesn't, does she?" I agreed, "I mean, look at what she deals with."
Dean tilted his head, "She's tougher than what we give her credit for," He flipped the bacon over as he spoke, backing away from the stovetop as the bacon started to pop once more, "Jesus…"
"You've got the burner on too high," I pointed out.
"Dude," Dean cast an irritated expression, "I know what I'm doing!"
"What about those biscuits?"
Dean opened his mouth to answer my question; however, he clamped his mouth shut. He opened the oven as if it were about to shoot flames out of it before he let out a relieved sigh, "They're good," he announced with a pleased grin.
I rolled my eyes at him.
Sometime later, I had noticed that the sun had finally broken through the clouds, deciding to let the two lovebirds have their time 'alone'. Abigail had dressed Megan warm due to today's unpredictable weather. The air outside was on the cool side despite the sun's warm rays shining through the treetops all while that fresh earthy scent from the rain had coated everything.
Gravel crunched under my shoes with the sounds of birds chirping among the trees. Everything around the two of us was coated from the rain, large drops fell here and there, including on Megan and I, "Well butterball," I said, bouncing Megan in my arms, "Let's go inside for a bit before I take you to the swings."
She started babbling from against my chest, which was, I have to admit, cute.
I walked towards the restaurant that was up from the cabin, located across the small pond. I walked faster than normal, considering the fat, cold drops of water would chill anyone to the bone if they landed in the right spot. Also considering I had my infant niece with me, and the last thing that needed to happen was for her to get sick.
Inside the restaurant, the scent of bacon grease clung in the air as it melded with scorched coffee. It had been a scent that I had grown accustomed to despite it made my stomach churn somewhat. A waitress from behind the cash register looked up, offering a welcoming smile when we stepped in.
"Take a seat anywhere you'd like," She greeted, placing a small pad and pen in her apron, "Would you like a high chair?"
I offered her a small smile in return, "Yeah, if you don't care."
"Sure thing," came her bubbly reply as I took a seat in the corner of the establishment, keeping a constant watch of outside. Placing Megan on my lap, I removed her jacket, setting it to my right. The smell of coffee and bacon grew stronger from where I was seated, catching the faint tune of a Kansas song playing across the radio from behind the counter.
The diaper bag that I had brought with me was graciously packed with everything needed for Megan. I dug into the bag, finding a pack of baby wipes, disinfectant wipes, an extra outfit, several spare diapers, a hand towel, and a baggy full of Cheerios. I took out the towel, drying off Megan's hair and face.
"Here's a high chair for the little lady," the waitress came up to us with the same warm smile, holding onto the high chair. I picked up Megan, rising to my feet as she set it beside me at the end of the table, placing Megan in it and secured her before I took my seat, "What can I start you off with?"
I glanced up at the waitress' nametag, Brandi, before I took in her features. She was an attractive girl; brunette, green eyes, freckles on her cheeks and bridge of her nose, curvy, a smile that warmed the place. I returned the smile, "Coffee with cream and sugar, a chef's salad with vinaigrette, and for her, just an order of cinnamon apples and a small bowl of mashed potatoes and gravy."
"Alrighty, doll," she replied as she jotted down my order, "She's just a cutie-pie."
I peered down at Megan, who was ogling at everything in her childlike wonder, "Thanks." As she walked away, I took out a sheet of disinfectant wipes, wiping down the table in front of her before I took out the baggy of cereal laying out six pieces in front of her. She started picking at them the moment she saw it in front of her.
I picked up the newspaper that was left on the table. I scanned it to see if there were any omens or signs of the yellow-eyed demon. Much to my chagrin, nothing of the sort came up or caught my attention.
Megan began hitting the table with the palm of her hand, growling as loud as she could before I turned my attention to her. She stopped, grinning at me. I chuckled at her, setting the paper aside, "Yeah, you're right Megan," I told her, "There's nothing in this to read, and I can't read you any of this because you don't understand the words and the meanings," I looked down and I saw her fingers in her mouth, "What are you doing, you eating your hand?" I said playfully, "That doesn't taste good. Good food is on the way."
Brandi, the waitress, came back with the coffee, "You are such a good daddy."
"Oh no," I laughed as she sat my drink in front of me, "This is my niece, I'm just watching her for a little while."
Brandi giggled, "Well, you're a good uncle then. How old is she?"
"Eight months," I took a sip of my coffee, watching Brandi wave at Megan with a grin. Megan held a finger in her mouth as she grinned back at her.
"She's beautiful!" Brandi straightened up, "I'll get your orders out to you in just a minute. They're almost done."
"Thanks, again," I replied, watching as she walked behind the counter to check on another patron. I turned my attention back to Megan, who had been picking at the last Cheerio in front of her. Her small fingers clumsily trying to pick it up. It fell onto the table a few times, a small skittering noise following it until Megan began to huff with frustration. Chuckling at her, I picked up the piece of cereal, holding it out for her in the palm of my hand.
My niece's hazel eyes focused on that lone Cheerio, her small hand reaching out to take it before popping hand and all, into her mouth. Slobber covered her cheeks, chin, hand, and down to her shirt while she munched away.
There were times that I envied her innocence and the unknowingness that came along with it. I couldn't remember a time that I had felt that way, yet, I knew a part of me always yearned for it. I sometimes wondered how my life would be like, had my mother not died. I ran a hand down my face, remembering what Dean had said about his dream world—we were out of touch and didn't get along.
"Here's your salad," a bubbly voice broke through my thoughts, "and this little cutie's apples and mashed potatoes." I jumped in my seat from the suddenness, noticing that Brandi had returned with a serving tray that contained my order. Brandi's warm smile never left her face as she sat the items on the table in front of me, "Do you need a refill for your coffee?"
My eyes fell to my half-empty cup, "Uh, yeah, sure. Thanks," I acknowledged her question.
"No problem. Enjoy, your meal, doll," the waitress walked away once again, Megan already reaching for the apples in the small dish. Before I could make another move, she started banging her hands on the table, screeching.
"Okay, okay," I told her with a laugh, "You're definitely a product of Dean," I picked up my fork, pressing the tongs into the bowl of apples so that I could mash them into smaller pieces for Megan to eat. The tiny clone of my brother slapped the table with enthusiasm, eliciting grunts and growls. I laughed lightly at her, amused by her actions as they became seemingly similar to Dean's mannerisms.
I then picked up a spoon, scooping a few smashed apples into it, "Open wide, Butterball."
Megan chomped the spoon. Her nose crinkled as she pursed her lips, growling as she chewed. The love that I held for this child was unfathomable. I knew I had loved Jessica with everything in me, to the point that I had plans on asking her to marry me. What I didn't know was that my niece had awoken both a newfound meaning of love and yearning that I didn't think was possible.
Megan slapped the table once more, "'am!"
I grinned, scooping another small spoonful for her; oblivious that I still had food of my own. I couldn't have been more proud of Dean as I did today. The fact that Dean wanted to walk away from all of this for his child was more than a monumental achievement for him—it was damn near life-changing. I knew without a doubt, my brother was going to give her the life we never had.
Abigail's Point of View
Trail—Day
"Right now, I don't know if I want to kiss you or shove you off this bridge," Dean and I walked across a wooden bridge that stretched across the banks of the medium-sized pond, onto another part of the trail. We had been walking the trail for the last hour in the rain. I was getting slightly irritated about being cold and wet.
Dean offered an infuriating lop-sided smile while keeping an easy pace alongside me, "Can I pick?"
My eyes flew to the treetops with an inward groan. He was infuriating sometimes, even more with that smile—his trademark so to speak, "Go be stupid somewhere else that's away from me," I joked, nudging Dean with a swing of my hips only for him to ensnare me in a bear hug. I let out a noise that was somewhere in between a laugh and a squeal upon feeling the stubble on his cheek scratch my neck as he pressed delicate kisses on some exposed skin.
His chest rumbled against my back with an amused chuckle, "Why would I want to go do that?" Dean murmured against my neck with a smirk gracing his lips. I turned around to face him. His hands remained on my hips, though he had slid them up under my jacket in order to touch my skin. His calloused thumbs created a rough sensation that had sent a shiver up my spine then down into my lower abdomen. I tucked my hands into his jacket, on his chest.
"You know we could ditch this hike and go back to the cabin," His brows waggled in a suggestive manner, "I mean, nature is nice and all, but do we really need to be out here?"
I let out a haughty laugh, "You're incorrigible, Dean."
Dean grinned, knowing full and well he was, "Am I?"
"This was your idea, after all," I pointed out, watching as Dean bowed his head with a soft chuckle, "We might as well walk this out of your system."
Dean lifted his head with a lascivious smile, "Oh, with you, there is no walking anything out of my system—you're irresistible."
I let out a snort, "Oh, sure I am."
Dean brushed away a piece of stray hair from my face, "You are, doll-face."
I lifted a hand, placing my palm on his face before I trailed my fingertips along his jawline; stopping on his chin where a faint, small scar could be seen. I grinned at the distant memory, "You remember when you got that scar?"
Dean pursed his lips as he delved back into his thoughts, bringing a hand up to his chin, "I vaguely remember some blonde chick throwing a rock at me," I let out a playful scoff as he continued to speak, "I was seven, and she was six—her dad just ran us through some homemade obstacle course for the fourth or fifth time. She got pissed off mid-run, and wham!" He elaborated with a small theatrics of a rock colliding with his chin, "I'm on the ground holding my chin, and seeing stars."
"In the girl's defense, you tripped her and gave her a fat lip," I added with a smug smile gracing my features.
Dean raised his brows, "In my defense, I didn't deserve to have my face beaten in!"
I shrugged in nonchalance, "You didn't get your face beat in—you just got an…attitude adjustment 's all."
Dean feigned horror at my comment, "I had four stitches!"
"You stopped bein' an ass," I smirked.
Dean tilted his head, "For the remaining time I was there," He added as I rolled my eyes, "Girl had an arm like Babe Ruth, lemme tell ya."
We both fell silent, grinning like two shit-eating possums before we began laughing. The corner of Dean's eyes crinkled while his whole body reverberated with laughter. As it subsided, Dean leaned his forehead against mine staring into my eyes. Staring back into those luminous hazel-green orbs of his, a gentle, calloused hand cupped my face—his thumb ran along my bottom lip before pressing his against mine.
I responded to it immediately by capturing Dean's face in my hands, drawing him closer to me. His arms gripped around my waist, his body pressing mine backward until my back met with the wooden rail of the bridge until Dean's body was enveloping mine almost. One of his hands had reached out to steady the both of us on the wooden rail as the tip of his tongue brushed my lips—insisting—I opened to let him in, welcoming the urgency that the both of us were feeling.
The both of us had closed off the rest of the world.
I gripped the lapels of Dean's jacket in some otherworldly longing, just as he gripped my waist. It felt as if the two of us could melt into each other had we persisted enough. A flame hotter than the sun it seemed like, broiled within me. I felt like tearing off mine and Dean's clothes.
Rain began to fall until it came down in one hellacious gully-washer, soaking the both of us in seconds. The flame that burned died down to an active ember; smoldering from within. Dean pulled away, grinning, I grinned back, pushing my soaked hair out of my face, our chests heaving from the kiss.
"Wanna find a rock formation to get out of this rain?" A hidden suggestion resided in his question. I didn't give it a second thought, taking his hand in mine.
"Let's go," I answered, catching the salacious grin of Dean Winchester. We hiked a good ten minutes in the rain until we found a formation on the side of a high wall. Stepping into the cave, it was surprisingly roomy, the floor of it is littered with years of leaves and sand, along with signs of human interaction; litter, graffiti, a shoe or two.
"Wonder how long this rain is gonna last," Dean peeled off his leather jacket, laying it on a nearby rock that jutted out like a seat.
"Not sure," I peeled off my jacket, laying it beside his jacket, "We're goin' to get sick from bein' out in this rain," I pointed out as I moved across the cave while he turned to me, shrugging in nonchalance. Running his hand through his hair, water came off like a fine mist before he ruffled it up like normal.
I could feel it though, that swirling hunger from within him that had ignited the smoldering ember inside of me. He crossed the space between us, capturing me back in the same, mind-numbing kiss from before, "Does it really matter?" He murmured against my mouth.
I shook my head, "Not really," I responded, reaching for his belt.
It was the edge of dark before we had made it back to what was deemed civilization. The night had grown increasingly colder, as predicted. Dean and I were shuddering, all the while cracking jokes at each other. Both of our clothes were absolutely nasty from the mud and sand. I was fairly positive that I had a leaf tangled somewhere in my hair.
"Hey," Dean caught my attention. I paused, looking over to a pavilion that was lit up fifty yards or so away from us with Queen's rendition of Crazy Little Thing Called Love playing. There wasn't a soul in sight. There were lights strung up from inside and out, however, creating this whimsical ambience—something that I found appealing in more ways than one.
"What about it?" I asked, confused.
He shrugged, "You reckon there's food over there?"
I stared at him, dumbfounded, to say the least, "Did you knock your brains out while we were in that cave?"
"Oh, come on, Abs," Dean insisted, nudging my arm with his hand, "Least we can do is check it out." He shoved his hands in his pockets, walking towards it, while I stayed behind with my mouth gaping in shock. I could not believe this! I mean, we've crashed every party and wedding between Roanoke, Virginia to Malibu, California, which isn't new, but c'mon!
"Dean Matthew!" I chided, seeing his shoulders come up to his ears—agitated at his middle name being used, "We still have a child and your brother waitin' on us!"
"It won't take a minute!" Dean called out, "Quit being a party pooper," I groaned, throwing my arms up into the arm out of frustration. I gave up. Following behind Dean, he paused, waiting for me to catch up with a smug grin, "Glad to see you see it my way."
I prodded him in the side, only to be swatted away, "You're gonna get us thrown in jail is what you're gonna do, Winchester."
"Relax, Colt, I got this," He turned to me with a grin when we stopped. I looked around, nervous. No one was in sight. Were the people using this going to be back? What in the world was Dean thinking anyways?
A baby's whine caught my attention, causing me to turn completely around. It was Kara and Charlie with Gavin. My eyes widened, "What the-?" I looked over to see Sam and Megan standing beside them, grinning from ear to ear, "How?" Bobby stood beside Sam.
It was everyone we cared about. They were all here.
I turned back to face Dean, "Dean, what's goin' on?"
The suave man that had barged in on someone's party was gone and replaced with a man that was fragile—raw, even. Dean took a deep breath, "Where do I start, Abs?" He asked me, searching for something in my expression, "We've practically known each other since birth. We grew up together trying to always outdo the other. We've had some close calls throughout our life in more ways than one. We've had some…awesome times, and some straight-up crappy ones,"
Dean swallowed hard, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue, "I didn't think it was possible to find anyone in this life that was just as amazing both on and off the job. I especially didn't know I could…be as happy with someone as much as I am until you came back into my life thirteen years ago, and finally getting the ass to admit it seven years ago," Dean bowed his head for a moment, glancing over to Megan with tears in his eyes, "Then, you showed me what real happiness was when you gave me our daughter, Megan."
"When I do picture myself happy, I see myself with you and Megan. I want to give her the life she needs," Dean dug in his pocket, lowering himself to his knee, rendering me speechless; tears freely flowing down my face, "Abigail Colt," My breath hitched upon seeing a small ring with an opal in the center, "Will you do me the honor of being my wife?"
I covered my mouth, nodding, "Yes," I managed to get out.
Dean blinked, surprised almost at my response, "Really?"
I nodded once more, "Yes, Dean," I practically started sobbing before being enveloped in his arms, kissing each other feverishly. Everyone that was there, cheered when Dean slid the ring on my finger. I buried my face into the crook of his neck, crying harder than I probably should have.
"I told you when I was going to propose, I was going to do it right," I heard him say with a grin in his voice.
I pulled away, doing something that was a mix of laughing and crying, "Yeah, that you did," I wiped my face with the heel of my palm, "That you did."
Dean chuckled, "I want out of this life, Abs," I blinked at his words, "I'm being serious. I'm tired of being the punching bag of society when they don't give a damn about me or us. Sammy can go back to school. We have a daughter that needs us, and I want to live long enough to see her first day of school, run off the male population, and even walk her down the aisle as crazy as it sounds."
"I don't think it sounds crazy at all," I admitted with a smile, "Trust me, we've seen crazier."
"That we have, cherry-pie," He glanced over to everyone else, "Considering this has been in the works for months, I'm sure they want a piece of the action…wanna party?"
I glanced over at them, nodding after a moment of consideration, "Till the cows come home."
"Colt," Dean teased.
"Winchester," I shot back.
A/N: GUYS. I'm baaaaaaack! I've come back from the dead! Seriously though, I never really left, I just took a super long break. There aren't enough 'sorries' to ever explain or apologize for how long it has been since my last update. My life has been turned upside down. I'm honestly surprised I haven't been eaten by a Demogorgon. :|
I decided to write this original chapter in lieu of the LAST TWO chapters of Strike Back! We all know what's coming up next-All Hell Breaks Loose Part 1! Hold onto your seats y'all. There's gonna be feeeeeeels.
I'd still love to hear input from y'all for a title that would fit Season 3, you can even suggest one yourself!
Here's the top six picks:
-Live Like You Were Dying (by Tim McGraw) (suggested by Ladysunshine6)
-Dear Agony (by Breaking Benjamin)
-Choices (by George Jones)
-More of You (by Chris Stapleton)
-C'est la Mort (by The Civil Wars)
-Fare Thee Well (Oscar Isaac and Marcus Mumford)
I'd also like to give credit, where credit is due. First and foremost, the Supernatural franchise. Without this show, this story couldn't be made possible. Secondly, I want to give credit to my lovely friend, Ladysunshine6 who has been more than just a friend to me. She's been there for me when I wasn't. Honestly, guys, I couldn't ask for a better person.
Creative criticism is welcome as long as it is respectful! Let me know how I'm doing by reviewing (it could be short and sweet, or long, your choice) or you can simply PM me or you can get a hold of me via Tumblr! I love receiving fan-mail, or all three!
Song for this chapter: Crazy Little Thing Called Love by Queen
SomebodyWhoCares-It really was! It hurt me so much to write that chapter out (and this). Tattoos and piercing come in the near future, so be on the lookout! (;
AfireLove1998-I'm so sorry about making you cry! I think it definitely added some shock with Megan not being in his dream world. Definitely, something I could see Kripke do in the early Supernatural seasons. I really appreciate it! I'm so excited for this chapter, but super pumped for All Hell Breaks Loose. :D
grapejuice101-Thank you, dear! I'm glad you enjoyed this chapter (and I'm so sorry for making you cry)!
angelicedg-Thank you! I'm so pumped for the next installment! I hope everyone likes what I have in mind for it!
Love. Fiction. 2017-Thank you so much! I hope you enjoyed it! :D
Ladysunshine6-Thank you, dear, and thank you for getting me back in gear! I can't wait to read more of your stories! Hang in there, girl! Much love to you! (:
Guest-Thank you so much. I've had a lot of problems going on in the last eight months, but I'm hoping I'm finally out of this slump. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! (: