A/N: For those who want to follow my on my personal tumblr, here it is: .com
I know it's a shorter fic than normal but this is something that's been needed for a while. Enjoy.
2009 – June
Part 2
South Dakota – Sioux Falls
Dean tucked his hands into the pockets of his jacket as he stared at his shoes. He was the one that had dragged Charlotte to this clearing in the middle of nowhere. He was the one who wanted to tell her everything, to talk it out, to clear up his own worries and doubts. He was the one who needed to know that everything was going to be alright, that there was no possibility of that future ever happening, but he couldn't bring himself to start talking. Every time he opened his mouth to start he regretted it and closed his lips again.
He felt Charlotte slide her hand into his and he lifted his head to see her smiling warmly at him, trying to reassure him that it would be fine in that one look. "You okay?" she whispered before she raised his hand up and kissed his knuckles one at a time. "Take your time, Dean. I'm not going anywhere."
He turned and couldn't stop himself from reaching up and cupping her face. He placed himself between her legs and pulled her forward on the hood of the Impala so that they were chest to chest. Dean dug his fingers into her waist and kissed her hard, afraid that he would lose her, again. "Char," he whispered when they parted and he took in slow, deep breaths.
She smiled at him, pressing her forehead to his as she stroked her thumbs over his cheeks. "Hi," she whispered back and she placed a small kiss to the top of his head, "Choose a place to start and talk me through it."
"Zach," he mumbled, and he slowly let his eyes meet hers. Blue eyes. He couldn't stop looking at them, praying that he'd see nothing but blue for the rest of his life. "He erm," he swallowed nervously and ducked his head for a moment before he started again, "he showed me what was going to happen, if- if I don't say 'Yes' to Michael."
Charlotte didn't say anything for a while before Dean felt her cup his cheek and tug him gently up by the chin to look at him with worried eyes. "Dean," she whispered, "talk me through it. Where were we all?"
Dean took a deep breath and swallowed nervously before he spoke, "Bobby and Nat were dead. Killed, ambushed, something. Erm, Sam, Sammy, he'd-" Dean had to take another deep breath before he went on, "he said 'Yes' to Lucifer. Cas, he, he lost his wings. The angels left. Cas enjoyed drugs and sex. Cas was a hippie. I, I-" he shook his head and had to look away, only looking back when Charlotte nudged his chin up. "I was a heartless dick, broken. I wasn't me. I didn't even recognise who I was looking at. Chuck was there. Some chick named Risa. The erm, Croatoan virus, you remember when I told you about that?"
"I remember."
"Yeah, well, Lucifer used that to destroy the world. We were living in erm, this camp in Kansas City and you." He looked up at Charlotte and he could still hear the other version of her laughing at him, mocking him, could still remember the pain he felt with the realisation that Cas had killed her. "You -" he fumbled, and he slowly shook his head as he grabbed onto her waist tightly. "You died, saving Cas and- and you- you turned. Into a demon."
Dean couldn't look at her. He pressed his head to her neck and focused on taking deep breaths to rid himself of those images, those thoughts. He wanted to forget it, wanted to erase those few days from his mind. He didn't want to imagine what a few years would have been like, but he couldn't help it. His mind started working and he couldn't stop it.
"Dean." He snapped his head up to see Charlotte staring at him with a look of certainty. "It's not going to happen. Zach was messing with you."
Dean snorted. He couldn't help it, he snorted. "I know, but-" he bit down on his bottom lip for a moment before he shook his head, "what if he's right? What if that's how it all goes down?"
Charlotte let out a small sigh with a tiny smile and shook her head. "Listen to me, Dean. Sammy isn't going to say the big 'Yes' to Lucifer. Bobby and Nat aren't going to die. You're not going to become some heartless bastard. Cas, no matter how funny it would be to finally see that stick up his ass gone, isn't going to become a drug and sex loving hippie."
Dean stared at Charlotte for a moment, his eyes studying her face with a tiny frown before he mumbled, "You missed one out."
She raised her brows at him and shook her head, "No?"
Dean tilted his head to one side with a sigh and settled his hands on her thighs. "You? A demon?" She looked away and Dean's heart started to pound with fear. His lips parted as she refused to meet his gaze and he dug his fingers gently into her thighs. "Charlotte?" he started shakily. She flicked her eyes back up at him and he felt a shiver of fear run down his spine.
"I'm a little twisted, Dean, sure. But the real secret? I've been a little twisted for a long time." Those words echoed in his head and Dean shook his head.
"I-" she started before she grabbed one of his wrists in both hands. She turned his hand over and clasped their hands together before she closed her eyes with a sigh. Charlotte shook her head and licked her lips. "Dean- I don't- I can't promise something I'm not certain of."
"Wha-"
"There hasn't been a time!" she started, her bottom lip quivering. Dean could see the corners of her eyes begin to water as she squeezed his hand a little. This wasn't her looking twisted or anywhere close to demony. This was her, human, whole, Charlotte. "Several months ago, when I was hunting Lilith, I- I had a lead to a motel room in a town." She took a breath and looked away, shook her head and slowly looked back at Dean. "I had the Colt okay, and, I got to the room and just shot because it was Lilith. I thought that it was that simple to stop the apocalypse." She struggled for words for the next few seconds before she whispered, "I was in a shoot first ask questions later mood and, and- somehow, it wasn't Lilith. It was Nat."
Dean stared at Charlotte with a slight frown.
"I know," she whispered, "I know. Was I set up?" Charlotte scoffed and shook her head. "I- I still don't know, I asked Nat she, she said that one minute she was in New Mexico and the next she- she was there, right there, in- in this crappy motel room in Colorado. Demons? Angels? I don't know, but I wasn't thinking, I was just- going. And I shot her. With the Colt."
Dean's frown deepened as he opened his mouth. "But she's-"
Charlotte nodded a small sob escaping. "I couldn't let her die. I couldn't. She's like a sister to me, you know? And she's so sweet, kind, didn't deserve that." Charlotte gripped desperately at Dean's jacket, tugging him close as she spoke with her eyes focused on his chest rather than his face. "It was my fault she was dead, and- and I needed to fix that. I asked. Okay? I asked Cas, I asked, Zach, Trickster and Anna, but nobody answered. Nobody cared." Her voice turned into a tiny, childlike whisper as she muttered, "What was I supposed to do?"
It sunk in. It hit Dean what she was talking about and he looked at her in shock. "You- you made a deal?"
"It's Nat! She's my Sam! She didn't deserve that! And none of the angels were willing to help. I had no choice."
Dean took a shaky breath as he looked over Charlotte's shaking figure. "How- how long?"
She finally looked up at him with a sorry expression he'd seen on himself when he'd told her he'd had a year left. After a moment she shrugged. "It's- vague."
"What the fuck does that mean?" Dean mumbled quietly.
Charlotte licked her lips and shrugged again. Her fingers played with the edges of Dean's jacket as she whispered shakily. "The deal was, the next time I die that that was it. I'd be in hell, burning, whatever. But I'm here. I feel like me. Except..."
Dean raised his brows and cupped a hand underneath her chin to lift her eyes back up to meet his. He tried to soften his expression as he quietly asked, "Except what?"
She slowly shook her head and finally said, "When I sleep, I'm there, in hell. Being tortured. When I wake up I can still feel everything that happened, but I don't feel like- like a demon. I just-" a few tears started to slip down her face and Dean's heart broke. "I'm scared. If I sleep, I'm in hell. It feels so real, but I don't know if it is because technically, I've died. But I'm here and I don't, I don't feel different. Dean," she pleaded, her fingers tightening their hold on his jacket and he heard how broken she felt in her voice as she whispered, tears falling down her face, "I'm scared."
"We'll fix this," he mumbled, trying to believe the words himself. "We'll find a way to fix this, I promise."
"Dean, I'm sorry," she whispered in a rush before she pressed her face against the crook of his neck and held onto him. "I'm sorry."
He closed his eyes and just wrapped his arms around her, shaking his head. "We'll fix this," he muttered again. "I promise. We have to."
A/N: Answer time:
Elle: Her voice? I hadn't thought about it too much but after listening to some Katherine Pierce, I can see that. Maybe not quite as scratchy but something similar.
Dean didn't sleep with other people once he left hell. He sees his marriage to Charlotte as a sign of commitment, as something he wants to keep and will work on keeping. It's something he doesn't consider lightly.
The whole Cassie thing. In the show he'd promised to go back and talk to her. I kinda played on that and that Dean did kind of use it as a payback kind of thing.
For me, I personally think that especially in the earlier years of the show, Dean struggled with commitment issues. He didn't think he'd live long enough to hold onto anything solid so I added that into my fic in him agreeing to the open relationship, even after knowing Charlotte sleeps with other people makes him jealous. In a sense, I wanted it to be kind of be him trying not to get too attached, similarly to Charlotte, because they're both hunters. Throughout the years this changes of course, but more so in the earlier years Dean's commitment is flaky.
Personally, I don't care about marriage. I think it wholly depends on the people but at the end of the day, if both parties are in an agreement and they both come home to the same bed every night, and everybody's happy, then fair enough. I do lean towards being committed to one person, but everybody has a preference and a different way of living.
