Title: Come What May
Fandom: Supernatural/One Tree Hill
Genres: Angst, Romance, Crossover
Pairing: Dean/Peyton
Spoilers: One Tree Hill, "The Leaver's Dance"; Pre-Supernatural
Disclaimer: Unfortunately I don't 'em. Wouldn't be able to keep my hands to myself if I did. The title comes from the Air Supply song of the same name. Air Supply, Cynthia Weil and Tom Snow own the song.
Summary: This is how Dean and Peyton's love affair began. Prequel to Split Second. It isn't imperative that you read that to understand this, though.
Author's Notes: Takes place before the Supernatural pilot and at the beginning of the summer following One Tree Hill's The Leaver's Dance. In this realm Cassie never existed and Jake never came back. Plus, Sam's still at Stanford and Brooke's off in California.
Come What May: Chapter Four
The day was slowly dwindling to a close, the action having come to an abrupt halt as the sun began to set beyond the horizon, casting the sky in brilliant colors.
Peyton and Dean sat in the sand near the water's edge, watching the sun set beyond the horizon. Behind them Haley, Lucas and Skills were huddled around the already dying bonfire.
Yards away from the shoreline, Lucas, Haley and Skills sat around a wild campfire while Peyton and Dean sat closer to the water, huddled close together as they watched the sunset. Junk and Fergie had called it a day earlier in the afternoon, following an accident while they were all jet skiing.
"I had fun today," Dean whispered, continuing to draw in the sand with the stick he'd dug out of the sand soon after they had sat down. Peyton was being unusually quiet and it was unsettling him, making him wonder if he'd said or done something wrong.
Though, now that he thought about it, he had unknowingly felt her up. Plus, apparently he'd spent the majority of the day ogling her. Haley had smacked him several times during the day for gawking at Peyton in her bathing suit.
What had Haley expected? He was still a guy and Peyton was… filled out in all the right places. He smiled to himself, his mind going to places he knew it shouldn't.
Peyton's voice broke through his thoughts. "I told you that you would."
"Well… if you don't count your morning craziness, I mean."
"Oh… that?" Peyton blushed remembering her small freak out earlier that morning in Dean's hotel room. God, could she have acted more like a girl?
But that was the difference between them, wasn't it? That's exactly what it boiled down to in the end. He was a man while she was still just a girl. They were on different sides of spectrum. His was darkened by years of hardships and experience whereas she was not. She'd been with one guy and her last time had been well over a year ago.
Peyton frowned as she realized it had been that long since she'd had sex. No wonder she'd reacted to Dean the way she had!
Dean's shoulders rose and fell in a careless effort. "It's okay. I understand. You had… you know… cramps." He stumbled over the word, wondering why Haley had felt it was imperative that he know that Peyton's freakish behavior was caused by her womanly woes.
"Pesky things they are those cramps." Were cramps going to be an epithet now for her feelings for Dean? Did she really want to associate her relationship with Dean with pain? Especially considering that she wanted a relationship with Dean?
Nudging her shoulder, Dean said, "You know if there's something else going on, you can talk to me about it."
"Yeah I know," she told him, glad that he was so observant of her. "I appreciate the offer and I want to talk to you, Dean, I do. I'd just rather… not."
"I understand. I'm not a girl," he said with a roll of his eyes.
"No, it's not that. It's not that at all," she regarded him honestly. "It's just that… what's going on is you." Dean stared at her dumbfounded and speechless. It was the first time she had vocalized her feelings to him. Now she felt unsure and… and dumb. "And before you jump back onto the age difference soapbox, I ask you to please refrain yourself."
Dean remained silent for a few moments before he conceded, "I wasn't going to say anything at all." He wrapped his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer.
So the feelings weren't one-sided. It was good to know. He wanted to put into words how he felt about her, but stopped himself from doing so. It was a delicate matter, one that he had handle with the utmost care. Her heart was fragile as was the situation he now found himself in. There was no way in hell he was going to give her hope when there was none.
Peyton moved into his arms without protest, her head dropping onto his shoulder as she said, "You know tomorrow's Monday, right?" She burrowed her feet into the sand as she melted into his warm embrace, not giving second thought to the fact that he was still sans shirt. She'd had the entire day to get used to him being in her presence, upper torso bared. Though it didn't stop the fuzzy image of him naked popping into her head at the most inconvenient of times. Damn Haley!
"Yeah, I know."
"You won't be in town for too much longer."
Dean remained silent, hearing the sadness etched in her voice. The same thoughts had been running through his head all afternoon. It wasn't that he wanted to leave. He had to. Because he knew that if he stayed any longer he wouldn't be able to stop himself from acting on his ever burgeoning feelings for Peyton.
"Let's just… not talk about that right now." The less he thought about leaving, the better.
He knew that he couldn't be selfish. As much as he wanted Peyton, he didn't fit into her life.
And she didn't fit into his.
She deserved someone that could be around her day after day, showering her with love and affection. She deserved someone that could open his heart and his entire life to her.
He could only deny her all of those things.
Still, he couldn't help but fight the overwhelming need to want the simple things--love, marriage, family. It's what most normal people wanted in the long run, right?
He wasn't like normal people, though. Even though he knew he shouldn't, he wanted Peyton to be the one he shared all of those things with. It was a pipe dream, he knew, but it was his dream. No one could take that away from him.
"We're outta here, guys." Dean and Peyton both turned up their heads where Lucas and Haley were hovering over them, Luke's arm wrapped tightly around Haley's shoulders.
"You're calling it a night? But it's still early," Peyton said, scrambling to her feet, wiping the excess sand from her backside.
"Some of us have to work tomorrow, you know?"
Dean looked at Peyton, knowing that she probably had to go into TRIC as well. "Maybe we should go, too," Dean suggested, looking to Peyton.
"We'll let you two discuss that amongst yourselves. We'll see you tomorrow," Haley said, watching the uncomfortable exchange between Dean and Peyton. Grabbing Lucas's hand, Haley led the trek back in the direction of the car.
Dean turned to Peyton as she said, "We can go back to my house. Order a pizza. Watch movies," she alluded. When he eyed her curiously, she told him, "I just don't want the day to end yet and I'd like the company."
"Okay," he admonished. "But I get to pick the movie."
"I'm not sure I know what you're talking about," Dean declared from his perch on the floor, glaring at Peyton from the corner of his eye as the credits from their second watched movie began to roll.
"I gave you the first Clint Eastwood movie to make up for my little… thing this morning. You got the second one only because you started it while I was in the bathroom, but you are not getting a third one, buddy. That's pushing your luck all the way out the door," she told him as he hobbled on his knees back to the DVD player.
"And what else is there to watch? One of your chick flicks? I don't think so," he told her, picking yet another Eastwood classic from the shelf. Her dad had awesome taste in movies!
Peyton rolled her eyes as she crawled on her knees across the floor, plucking Dirty Harry out of his hands. "What, you're too manly for a chick flick?"
"Uh… in a word? Yes." Dean grabbed the movie out of her hands, but she was too fast, taking the movie back once more, this time putting it behind her back out of his reach. He whined as she brushed past him toward the shelf of DVD's, fingertips gliding along the spines.
Dean watched in horror as she swiped her copy of The Notebook from the shelf. "You're not seriously gonna make me watch that, are you?" he asked, watching with horrified indignation as she made her way to the TV shelf.
"Yes I am," she told him as she ejected Any Which Way You Can replacing it back in it's case. "Put that away," she commanded, tossing him the movie.
"Yes, Peyton McBossalot," he muttered as she slipped the DVD into the player.
"And you're gonna watch it and not whine or complain," she told him as she moved back onto the floor. "Well, come on," she said, motioning to the spot beside her when he remained standing, staring at her.
"Okay, fine," he relented. "But I'm not gonna like it."
"Yeah, yeah. They all say that," she encouraged as Dean sat down beside her, snuggling close to her as the movie began.
Dean flung an arm around her, pulling her close against his chest as Peyton threw a blanket over them. "I'm glad we did this."
"Of course you would say that. You got to pick the movies."
"I didn't get to pick this one," he argued, gesturing to the movie as it faded onto the screen.
"Did I whine during your man movies?"
"No, you didn't," he said with a sigh. "Okay. I'll be quiet now."
As the movie progressed, Dean and Peyton stretched out on the floor on top of the blankets that littered the floor. "Put your head down!" Dean snapped when Peyton stuck her head in his eye line.
"Alright, alright!" she said sliding down his body until her head wasn't an obstruction of his view. "There. Better?"
Dean stared down at her, coughing out, "Much better. Yeah. Thanks," while trying to get his libido in check. Until now he'd never had a problem not reacting to Peyton, at least not physically. Now, however, thanks to her little maneuver, he was going to have a hard time--no pun intended--keeping things under control.
Shaking his head, Dean willed the thoughts away, concentrating instead on the movie and the fact that Noah and Allie were going to be together again. He was going to kill Peyton for making him watch this schmoozefest.
The movie wasn't halfway over before they had switched positions again. His arm had cramped up so he had sat upright again, Peyton taking that as an advantage to use his lap as a pillow.
Dean smoothed down Peyton's hair as she slept. As the movie drew to a close, he maneuvered her head from his lap, gently laying her flat on the floor atop the rumpled blankets.
He grabbed the remote off the table beside the sofa, flicking off the DVD player and the television. Dean was getting up to leave when he heard Peyton murmur, "No. Stay."
Sighing to himself he was getting ready to ignore her command, but decided against doing so. Instead, he stretched out beside Peyton on the floor. He grinned in the dark as she threw her leg over his, burying her face in the crook of his neck. "G'night," she whispered sleepily against his neck.
He could most definitely get used this, Dean thought as he brushed his lips across her forehead, mumbling goodnight to her in kind.
Dean stared at the ceiling for the longest time, his mind rolling through the past few days and the upcoming ones. By Wednesday he would be gone, leaving Peyton and a thousand questions in his wake.
Then, his thoughts shifted to the movie and to the journeys that Allie and Noah had to take separately.
That could be him and Peyton one day. Or so he could hope.
Thinking about what could be or what might be was too overwhelming for him to contemplate in the wee hours of morning. Closing his eyes, he welcomed sleep as well as his dreams of Peyton.
Dean sat inside the café with his stack of newspapers, leafing through them with hopes to find something that would take him on his next assignment. Unfortunately nothing out of the ordinary had happened since he'd left Florida.
He needed to relieve some tension. He needed to shoot something. He needed…
He needed to stop thinking about bedding a certain brazen teenager because cold showers were just not cutting it anymore.
Dean had realized that his feelings for Peyton were becoming an intrusion when he woke that morning in her arms. He had never slept with a girl without having sex so to spend his time in her company without benefiting… he knew he had it bad.
Frustrated, he closed the newspapers, chancing a look up just as Lucas walked in trailed by his obscure named friends.
"Hey Dean," Lucas said, approaching Dean's table. "You remember the guys," Lucas said, nodding his head toward the guys flanking him which just included Skills and Junk.
Dean pushed the newspapers aside as he said, "Right. Hey guys."
There were several "Yeah, hey's" in unison as the boys pulled up extra chairs at the table.
"What're you doing?" Lucas asked as he fell into the seat across from Dean, fingering the stack of papers.
"Research," Dean said as the waitress sidled up to the table to take orders from the guys.
"Research for what?" Lucas questioned as Skills placed his order and Junk flirted with the waitress to no avail.
"For my job," he said, averting his attention to the waitress, informing her as she turned to leave that he wanted a refill of coffee.
"Do you know where you're going next?"
Dean shook his head. "Not yet."
"I know someone who's gonna miss you when you leave," Lucas said, exchanging looks with Junk and Skills who only snickered.
"Yeah? Who?" Dean inquired, his eyes narrowing on a pair of girls entering the café.
Lucas nodded his head as Haley and Peyton approached the table. "Hey! You ready?"
Dean glared at Lucas as he slowly pushed himself to his feet. "Yeah. Lucas and I were just… talking. But we're all done now."
Peyton glanced from one to the other skeptically. "Okay, were you two talking about me?"
"Paranoid, much?" Dean asked her.
"Just something to think about, Dean," Lucas continued as Dean rolled his eyes. Like he didn't know that Peyton was going to miss him when he left. He was going to miss her, too. Lucas was not telling him something he didn't already know.
"Come on. Let's go," he said, trying desperately to veer her away from the table, failing, as her eyes fell upon the newspapers stacked neatly in the middle of the table. "What are those for?"
"They're Dean's," Lucas said quickly, unprepared for the dual head slap from Dean and Skills.
Peyton looked at Dean as she picked up the papers, noting the red pen markings. "It's just research. For work. It's no big deal," he said, snatching them out of her hand, adding, "And none of your business."
"Ouch!" she yelped as he passed the papers off to a passing waitress. Peyton waved her finger dramatically, wailing, "You gave me a paper cut!"
"Oh, you'll live."
"But it burns!" Peyton whined.
"Gosh, you're such a baby!" Dean bemoaned as grabbed her hand, gingerly pressing his lips to the small cut on her index finger.
Peyton's eyes softened, her legs weakening beneath her as everyone looked on. Dean blew on her cut, his actions gentle and sweet. "There," he said, his deed complete. "Better?"
"Mmm hmm," she whimpered. "Thanks."
"So, hey, how was the sleep over last night?" Lucas asked interrupting their tender moment.
Dean broke eye contact with Peyton to throw as annoyed look at Lucas as Peyton spun around to look at Haley, crying out, "Haley!"
Haley shook her head, holding up her hands. "Hey, don't look at me! I didn't say anything! What you and Dean do behind locked doors is between the two of you."
"Hey!" Dean said, glaring at Haley. "We didn't do anything. Guttermind!"
"If that's your story," Haley mumbled.
"There was no sex!" Dean insisted. He turned back to Peyton. "Tell them!"
"Well…," Peyton paused, smirking.
"You've got to be kidding me!" Dean exclaimed as Haley stepped toward him, her voice dropping to a whisper as she said, "Now, now, Dean, we're all friends here. You could tell us if there are… you know… problems."
"I have no problems with anything, Haley. Believe me when I say that everything is in working order."
Peyton coughed as Haley said, "Okay. Way too much information there, Casanova."
"Okay. You've all had your fun. You got the lowdown on last night… we have to go ," he told them pointedly, setting his eyes on Peyton who was trying to mask her laughter behind her hand. His eyes on her, he begged, "Let's go please?"
"When you insisted that you were planning a night out I didn't think it included this," Peyton told Dean as they each laced their skates.
"Yeah, well… there's not much to do in this crap town and I honestly thought this would be fun."
"Dean Winchester and fun in the same sentence. Who woulda thought?" Peyton teased as she stood up, skating a few yards away from Dean.
"Hardy har har," Dean mocked. "I told the owner that I wanted to do something special for my girlfriend since I was leaving town and wouldn't known when I'd be back," he told her as he stood up, only to fall face down on the floor when he failed to remember that he was now on wheels.
"Dean!" Peyton fell onto her knees at his side, trying her hardest not to laugh. "Are you okay?"
"Oh, yeah because kissing the floor is always so much fun."
"You were the one that wanted to do this. Remember that," she said as she helped him onto his feet. "Why are you so grumpy anyway? You've been like this since we left the café."
"Don't wanna talk about it," he told her, then skated away.
Peyton stood staring after him, not moving until he returned to her side. She fell back onto the bench, murmuring, "We came here to have fun and if you're going to be Oscar the Grouch we should just leave."
Dean let out a grunt as he sat down beside her. He opened his mouth to speak but knew that the words he had intended would only came out callous and insincere. When he tried again, his words were more heartfelt.
"I like spending time with you, Peyton. I like talking to you and being with you… I like you." He had arranged this night for her, wanting one of their last nights to be angst-free and fun. Their time together was getting short and he wanted the remainder of his time together to be memorable. The last thing he had expected to do was to lay his feelings on the line.
It'll certainly be memorable, he thought sourly.
His gaze dropped to his hands as he nervously scratched his palms to do anything that didn't involve looking at her while he continued to speak. "I like you more than I should, Peyton and it's a little more than unsettling." When he looked back at her, her eyes were focused on him, questioning and curious. "But this town… it's so small… everyone knows about us and… and I guess it's just annoying the crap out of me," he said, skirting the subject of his feelings once more.
He was using that as a crutch to keep himself distant. He wanted to act on his feelings, but knew that would only complicate things. He was leaving in two days. What good would it do to pursue her now?
"It's the price you pay for living in a town as small like this, Dean. Everyone knows me here. I can't help that, but if it's too much for you…"
Dean reached for her hand, taking it in his. "No. It bothers me, but only because the way they perceive this. That it's… they're making this out to be something that it isn't."
"And what is it?" Her jaw tightened, expecting what came next.
"A friendship," he said resignedly. "Peyton, it can't be any more than that. I thought that we…"
"No, it is," she said, snatching her hand out of his grasp. "And we did," she assured him. "I understand what this is, Dean. You've made it abundantly clear what this is. Can we just…," she trailed off. She looked at him, only to have him look at her like she was the only person in the world. It was the way she longed for him to look at her, the way that she knew he never would. "Forget it. Just… forget it."
Before she could flee, Dean grabbed her hand to stop her. Peyton lost her balance and the two tumbled onto the floor.
Breathing heavy, Dean stared down into Peyton's widened eyes, knowing that he should move off her. But he couldn't make himself move. "I like you… and I promised myself that I wouldn't do anything to complicate our friendship or myself…," he said breathlessly.
"I get it. You've drilled it into my head, okay?" She tried to push him off of her, but he wouldn't budge. "Would you move so that I can get up?"
"NO."
"NO?"
"I'm trying to protect you, Peyton."
"You keep saying that, Dean, but I don't get it. What are you trying to protect me from?"
"From getting hurt."
"Been there, done that."
"Exactly. I don't want to be another of those guys."
"Dean…"
The soft whisper of his name was his undoing. "Shh," he whispered, placing his index finger over her lips to still any further protests. "You'll ruin the moment."
Before his conscience could tell him that it was a mistake, Dean bent his head, pressing his lips to hers, refusing to deny himself or her any longer.