I'll get in my car
Drive it faster than I ever did before
Head out west until I finally reach the shore
And then I'll swim out to wherever you are
And we'll ride the undercurrent down to the floor
Making friends with all the unfamiliar creatures
And pushing back all the unnecessary pressure
Come up for air just so you know we won't drown
You're so strong
The world can't keep us down
…
Now do you love me?
All you gotta do is say yes
Now do you love me?
Then you've already proved it
Baby, if I'm half the man I say I am
If I'm a woman with no fear just like I claim I am
Then I'll believe in what you say, there's nothing left for you to do
The only proof that I need
Baby, if I'm half the man I say I am
If I'm a woman with no fear just like I claim I am
Then I'll believe in what you say, there's nothing left for you to do
The only proof that I need is you
Paramore – Proof
The days seemed to fly by since we'd gotten settled into our house. At first we'd both been shaky, not sure exactly how to do all of this stuff. Dean seemed to warm up to it a lot faster than I did, but I followed suit eventually with his help and reassurance that I could do this, they we could do this – be normal. Something so simple made us so worried.
Every since I'd gotten a job at one of the local doctor's offices as their receptionist, every morning my alarm went off at seven. I'd hit snooze and roll over into Dean's arms, taking a few minutes to listen to his heart beating. Most of the time he was already awake, placing his lips to mine, his hands sliding down my body until either one of us couldn't take it anymore and started ripping clothes off.
Still, somehow I managed to get to work on time, taking a quick shower, resisting the urge to take Dean up on his suggestion of us both taking a shower together. If that happened, I'd definitely never leave. I'd throw on some mascara, a pair of jeans and a blouse, and I was out the door. Dean usually got up in the time I was getting ready, making me some coffee before I left considering he didn't have to leave for work until about ten.
On my way to my little blue car, I passed Dean's pick-up truck. For a while Dean had driven the Impala, until Jay, the man who owned the shop he worked at told him he could take the trunk and if he wanted to try and fix it up, he could keep it. Something he did with ease.
Now the Impala sat quietly in the garage underneath a cover, collecting dust.
Months before Dean had gotten his truck, I'd gotten my car. I still remember the day Bobby came over, upset when he'd seen the little blue car in our driveway. He'd wanted to give me one of the cars he'd just fixed up recently, but I politely, yet very sternly, declined. He'd done enough already. I appreciated it, and told him so.
Anything else Dean and I needed, we had to get ourselves.
So the car payments for my Ford were added to our bills. Which by the way, we had bills. Dean and I cooked dinner together just about every night, except for the times when he stayed around the shop later, went out for a beer with Sid, or I went out with Kim, Sid's wife, or Marcy, one of the nurses that I'd become friends with. Sometimes Dean and I would go out to dinner with Sid and Kim.
But the night's Dean and I stayed in, after eating, we washed dishes together, we watched TV. We took baths and drank wine. We made love on the couch, on the kitchen counters, in the shower – wherever, whenever.
Life was different and scary...and perfect. All except for one thing. Sam.
Sam deserved a life like this, too. A life he wanted, where he was happy. A life where him and his wife would drop their kids over at mine and Dean's house so we could babysit them while they got a night to themselves. One where we all spent holiday's and birthdays together. Or spend time together just because we missed each other.
But that couldn't happen. Because even after all this time, there was nothing we could do. We couldn't save Sam. And we hadn't heard from Cas in months. The angels were no hope. Demons were no hope. The ringing in my ears was there, but quiet and distant. Barely any angels had touched earth and I could feel it. Somehow, I could tell. I hadn't felt nauseous. It's supernatural creatures were avoiding us like the plague.
There were a few times when a patient would come into the doctor's office with strange injured or weird complaints, but I forced myself to ignore it, even though everything inside was telling me to figure it out, to help them. But I couldn't. That wasn't our life anymore. We hadn't hunted in eleven months.
Eleven months. I kept track of every passing day. It's almost an entire year that Sam's been gone. It never got easier to think about, and I never stopped thinking about him, I know Dean didn't either There were times when I'd look over and see him just staring into thin air, his eyes tearing up. I knew in that moment he was thinking about Sam because the same thing happened to me on many occasions.
Tonight I was left alone with my thoughts longer than usual because Dean had gone out to the bar with a couple of his friends. I let out a heavy sigh, placing the last dish in the dishwasher, rising my hands off. I was in my own little world when I felt hands touch my hips. I jumped about ready to start throwing punches when Dean gripped my my wrists, stilling me.
"Whoa, Slugger." Dean grinned, running his hands up my arms when I let them drop to my side.
"You scared me." I murmured, glancing over at the clock, seeing that it was only ten. "You're home earlier than I thought you'd be. How was your night?"
"It was okay."
"Just okay?"
Dean smiled, pulling me against him. "I wanted to get home to my baby."
I smiled back at him as he brought his lips to mine, kissing me passionately. I wrapped my arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Before I knew it, we were on the couch, our clothes scattered around the living room floor as I straddled Dean's lap, my hips moving with him deep inside of me, his hands on my waist, his nails digging into my flesh.
We spent the rest of the night making love until we both passed out on the couch. I woke up the next morning with a warm blanket covering me, the cold air from outside seeping into the walls, the smell of eggs cooking in the kitchen and the sound of Dean singing along to the radio.
My stomach churned as I sat up, making sure to keep the blanket wrapped around me. Suddenly, I felt bile rise in my throat and ran into the downstairs bathroom, emptying my stomach. Once I was done, I flushed the toilet, sure Dean didn't hear me getting sick, otherwise he would have been in here in a second. I listened at the closed bathroom door, still hearing the radio blasting, Sweet Child O' Mine playing loudly through the house. I let out a heavy breath, moving back to the sick, looking at myself in the mirror.
This was the third week in a row that I'd gotten sick almost every day. The slightest smell made my stomach churn and I couldn't keep it down. I wondered what was wrong, but something inside told me exactly why this was happening. Deep down, I knew exactly what it was.
But still, I was too afraid to get a test. Even though I knew I had to. I was too afraid to go to the doctor, even though I knew I had to. And most of all, I was too afraid to tell Dean...even though I knew I had to.
Swallowing hard, I placed my hand on my stomach, my heart constricting. I pulled in a heavy breath before heading back out into the kitchen, once again putting off what I knew I had to do. if I could. I didn't want to let myself believe it, out of worry or fear or something else entirely. I wasn't sure. But I'd put it off forever if I could.
Uh-oh...
If you guys want more details on Dean and Tori's year, let me know and I'll try to post a story dedicated only to that! Either way, a certain familiar face will be back in the next chapter, but I'm sure you guys have no clue who it is... ;)
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