Disclaimer: The story is mine but Dean, Sam, and anything else you're familiar with cannot be credited to me.
Where the Blacktop Ends
When they'd first met, he mistook her for an angel—knee deep in an emerald sea of grass picking blackberries. Her hair was gleaming in the sunlight, surrounding a face that would have made Aphrodite herself jealous. She was barefoot, her figure back-dropped by an endless cyan sky dotted with an occasional fat cloud.
From that first meeting on, the image of her was painted on his heart; stokes of soft gold hair, dabs of rich violet berries, and the brilliant splash of red dirt.
The eighteenth summer of his life marked the transition of a boy to a man, of belief to faith, of affection to love.
For years he heard the echo of her father's voice in his dreams, disapproval spurred by a gruff endearing love for his daughter. The old man was positive that the boy wasn't good enough for his daughter, deep down the boy knew he was right.
That didn't stop him from sneaking her out late at night, driving down the dusty roads with the headlights off, the silver face of the moon smiling down.
Sometimes she would play 'Connect the Dots' with the stars spread across the Kansas sky or she'd twirl around in the grass as lightning bugs danced in the heavy air around her; but always before he took her home she'd curl up in his arms and they'd lay on the hood of his car while the crickets serenaded them.
There sitting on the hood of his Pontiac they talked. Her lilting voice covered every topic. She'd lean into him and pour out her heart. When she was talking about the past, she'd smile fondly; the present, her hands would flutter about like humming birds; the future, she would grasp the hands resting on her stomach and press deeper into his chest. Mostly he just let her talk, listening to the sweet sound of her voice, letting it settle around him like an old blanket—soothing in its familiarity.
She was only speechless once that summer.
He'd brought her to their usual place. The air was cooler, the seasons were beginning to change, so she'd donned his worn jacket. September was on the horizon.
Her eyes sparkled with tears. The stars seemed dimmer that night and the crickets were silent. He was going away, and even though he promised to return, she wouldn't speak.
When he went out into the world he kept her with him. He thrived on the memory of her smile, he basked in the warmth of her arms, and he dreamed of nothing but his angel.
Kansas welcomed him home years later, even though he returned a different man than the one who had left.
She wasn't waiting.
It took more patience than he'd possessed to get her back again, but if the Marines had taught him anything it was that hard work and determination were key to overcoming any obstacle. She was stubborn, but he was the definition of pigheaded.
They were married that summer and everyday he woke her up with a smile, whispering in her ear that she was his angel; until finally, she became one.
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Mary/John: inspired by the song "Red Dirt Road" by Brooks and Dunne, amazing song—totally fits this couple. Not really a country fan but I will make an exception for those two, amazing, really. My first try with this couple, but I just love their dynamic and the possibilities of pre-YED John is enough to make me hide from the bunnies.
Buckets of love to be poured on my Beta, Feralpixc, she's amazing. glomps poor defenseless beta
Reviews will earn you a Golden Ticket to my heart! (Jensen and Jared are in there, if that isn't motivation enough I dun know what is!)