So, I decided to go ahead and write another chapter…hope you guys enjoy. Same disclaimers as there were in the first chapter and all mistakes are mine. Enjoy :)
The Vacant Year
Chapter Two
Dean wakes up swinging, groping for the bowie knife that isn't there. He jack-knifes up into a sitting position. His breathe comes out in short pulls. He balls the sheets up in his fists and his gaze dances frantically around the room.
'Sam! Where's Sam? There's only one bed…SAM!" His brain screams at him.
Panic rises in his chest; sweat drips from his pores causing his grey t-shirt to cling to him. He doesn't know where he is. This isn't some skeevy middle-of-nowhere motel room. The bed is too soft, there's no faded, ugly wallpaper, and there's no funky smell. His breathing speeds up further as the last tendrils of his nightmare make themselves known.
Sam…Sam was in trouble in it. Lucifer was in him…and there was fire…and a cage…
'SamSamSamSam…gotta get to Sammy he's being held hostage," his brain chants.
But how can he get to Sam if he doesn't know where he is? Dean throws the blankets back and leaps off the bed.
'Where's my duffel? My guns?'
A hand shoots out and latches onto his wrist.
"Dean?" A quite female voice asks. "What's wrong?"
He cautiously turns his head back towards the bed, his sense on high alert. Then his panic filled green eyes meet Lisa's soft brown ones and it all comes flooding back.
Sam…hole…Cage…a promise he made…Lisa and Ben…
A gentle tug on his arm has him easing himself back onto the edge of the bed. There's shuffling behind him as Lisa scoots over. She places her hand on his bicep. Her touch sears his skin…like Sammy's skin melting off in Hell. He flinches away from her.
"You okay?" Lisa asks even though it's obvious he's not.
His breathing is raspy and sweat coats his body. He keeps his hand tightly fisted to hide the shaking.
'Sammy punching me…Sammy snapping Bobby's neck…Sammy jumping into the Cage…Sammy…'
"I'm fine," he mumbles as he stands back up and heads towards the door.
"Where're you going?" Lisa asks.
Dean can sense the fear in her voice. Fear that he's going to get in his car and drive away…like he should have the morning after he showed up here. He doesn't deserve this hospitality or kindness. Not after he let Sammy die…
He attempts to shake that last thought from his head.
"Just gonna go watch some late night TV." He forces a smile. "Go back to sleep." He plants a soft kiss on her cheek before leaving.
Dean hopes that the monotonous tone of the TV will send him into a dreamless sleep. No such luck. All the flickering images cause are his own Hell memories to resurface.
The flashing behind his eyelids are eerily similar to the lightning storms and the laughter that floats through the room sound more like screams of terror. He can almost taste the sulfuric air when he jabs his finger down on the power button. He vigorously paces the expanse of the room to chase the torturous screeches from his brain.
Once the screams tone back, Dean gazes down at the cushions and debates on laying back down. But, he knows the endless tossing and turning will frustrate him so he ventures into Lisa's home office.
Dean flips on the desk lamp and boots up the computer. If he's going to have yet another sleepless night he might as well continue researching on how the hell he's going to get Sam out of Hell.
Lisa wakes feeling refreshed. She stretches her hand over to Dean's side of the bed and isn't surprised to find the space vacant. Since Dean unofficially moved in two weeks ago this had been the routine. At first he slept on the couch, but after a couple days there Lisa bullied him into the guest bedroom, where he would wake up screaming.
After a particular nasty nightmare she was able to coax him into her room. She hoped that maybe having a living, breathing human next to him all night would help keep the terror at bay. Even though her tactic doesn't work, she still leads him into her room every night. It makes her feel better to know that he's safe.
The only time Dean slept more than three hours was his first night here. The night that will forever be engraved in Lisa's mind. To Lisa's knowledge that was the only time Dean cried over his brother.
She sighs and leavers herself up. After a quick shower she follows the aroma of coffee down the steps and finds Dean sitting fully dressed at the table reading the paper.
"Morning," Lisa says loudly and clearly.
One morning she accidently snuck up on him. In three seconds flat, Dean slammed her against the wall with his switchblade gripped in his hand. Lisa stayed completely still, the only sign of her fear was her shuddering breath.
Eventually the harsh hunter stare melted into horror. He buried himself under his car for the rest of the day. Lisa didn't want a repeat of that so she made sure to make her movements obvious and deliberate around him.
"Hey," Dean says. He looks up at her and smiles.
But, Lisa can see through the mask. Her heart aches at the fake smiles and laughter that never quire reach his eyes. She yearns to do more for him, but since that first night Dean has kept his emotions closely tethered to him.
"Anything interesting in the news?" she asks, emphasizing the word 'interesting'.
Dean folds up and puts the paper down. "Nope." He gulps down the last of his coffee and gets up for a refill. "Coffee?" he asks.
"Sure," Lisa responds. But, she wonders what cup number Dean is on. He has been averaging four to six a day depending on how much sleep he got. And at least one cup had a little alcoholic kick.
Dean grabs another mug out of the cabinet and fills it up before topping off his own. He carries them back to the table, sits down, and slides hers over.
Lisa takes a sip and sighs. It's perfect, just the right amount of sugar. "So what's on the agenda today?" she asks.
Dean shrugs. "Probably gonna work on the truck."
That's what he does. That's how he hides from the pain. He immerses himself under the old pickup and tinkers, the old car becoming a shield between Dean and the world.
"Ben has a game today," she says hopefully. "I'm sure he'd love it if you came."
She watches Dean take slow sips of his coffee as he contemplates the offer. "Okay," he finally says.
Lisa is taken aback. She expected this to be more of a fight. She already had a few counter arguments ready to fire at him. She's been trying to get Dean out of the house for days figuring that being out in the world would do him good.
"Great!" She smiles reassuringly. "Game's at two, we need to leave by one-thirty."
"Just come get me when it's time," Dean says as he refills his mug and heads into the garage.
Lisa sighs when she hears the door close. Although he's showered and shaved, his body is screaming exhaustion. His face is a shade paler and there's purple bruises splotched under his eyes. His attitude has lost its gusto.
She wishes Dean would let her in. She knows nothing will ever be able to fill the Sam sized hole in his heart, but she can at least be there to try and lessen the blow.
At that moment she hears Ben thumping down the stairs. She lets all thoughts about Dean drift to the back of her mind. Ben knows this Dean is different from the Dean he met years ago, thankfully he doesn't pester Dean about it. He only asks Lisa when Dean's not around.
Questions about monster hunting. And where Sam is. And what happened. And why is Dean quiet.
Lisa answers them to be best of her ability, not telling the whole truth but giving her son enough information so he'd at least understand. She told him that Dean and his brother fought in a war, saved the world, but Sam didn't make it.
Ben called Dean an unknown hero and hasn't asked any more questions since then.
"Morning Sweetie," Lisa says when Ben bursts into the kitchen.
"Morning," Ben says as he grabs his cereal off the counter and snags the milk out of the fridge. "Where's Dean?"
"Working on the car," Lisa replies as she reaches for the paper. "He's coming to you're game."
"Really?" Ben asks, his eyes lighting up with the prospect of Dean attending.
"Really," Lisa says smiling.
"Awesome!" Ben responds around a spoonful of cereal.
When Ben finishes eating he races back up to his room to play videogames before he has to go. Lisa goes back to reading the paper, but she's not paying much attention to the words written. She's thinking of ways to subtly help Dean.
Hours tick by without Dean realizing it. Everything under the hood of this truck made sense to him. It's familiar. His hand works almost melts away and Dean can focus on the mechanics. It's the one place where he's not overwhelmed with memories and emotions. After all, this is just some old truck he's working on not his Baby.
Dean is forced out of his safety bubble when Lisa bangs the door open. He's setting the wrench down and wiping the oil off his hands when the door slams closed.
"Dean!" Lisa calls as she makes her way over. "You get it running yet?"
"Almost," Dean says as he closes the hood. "Time to go?" Lisa nods. "Okay, just need to grab my jacket."
'And my gun,' Dean thinks.
Dean removes his green jacket from the closet and tugs it on, making sure his Colt is safely tucked in the inside pocket. Lisa is waiting by the door with the keys dangling from her fingers.
"You wanna drive?" she asks.
The question is innocent enough, but it sends a whirlwind of memories racing through Dean's mind.
Sam taking the keys after the wendigo hunt…Sam sleeping in the passengers seat while he drove…Sam complaining about the music…Sammy…
"No, don't want to get us lost," Dean states hoping that Lisa doesn't see through the excuse.
Dean watches the houses go by. Never in his life did he think he'd ever be riding shotgun while driving through some white-picket fence neighborhood. As they pass by houses, schools, and stores Dean feels unreal.
He shouldn't be here in this car. He should be out on the demonic battlefield. He should be hunting down those evil-sons-of-bitches until one of them spills on hos to spring Sam from the Cage. But, he made a promise.
The car sliding into park jars Dean out of his head. The baseball field looms in front of him like storm clouds. Even from here he can see how crowded the bleachers are. All those people…all those threats…
Lisa's hand is suddenly on his knee, warm and comforting. "We'll take it slow okay?"
Dean nods and pushes the passenger door open. He steps out into the sunlight and rounds the car to stand by Lisa. They walk side-by-side to the stands and Lisa nudges him with her elbow, encouraging him to pick a seat.
Dean's biker boots clunk on the metal steps. He scans each person as he walks to the very top. The stands aren't as crowded as he first thought they were. Dean lets Lisa step into the row first to he can have the aisle seat.
From here Dean can see everything. He's at the perfect vantage point to watch everybody and their intentions. He also has an escape if something goes wrong and he needs to get Lisa out of here.
'This isn't so bad,' Dean thinks. 'All I have to do is watch the game.'
Then the rest of the spectators trickle in. The bleachers fill up with parents, relatives, and friends. They aren't packed together like sardines, but they're close enough to make Dean twitchy.
The first pitch is thrown and Dean scans the field searching for Ben. He finds him standing in a half-crouch at first-base. Dean tries to stay focused on him but, then the guy two rows down sneezes and the woman across the way gets a phone call.
Bu the third inning he's not looking at the field anymore. His head is on a swivel as he attempts to track everybody at once. But he can't. And Sam's not there to watch his back. And Dean's breathing speeds up as his mind if filled with images of Sam being ripped to shreds by Lucifer.
Then there's a slight pressure on his knee that has Dean reaching for his gun. But, another hand pushes his arm down.
"Hey Dean." Lisa's voice cuts through the fog surrounding his head. "Dean look at me." A feather light touch guides his head towards her.
"What's going on?" she asks quietly, making sure not to raise the attention of those sitting around them.
"Too many people," Dean whispers, his eyes darting frantically around the stands.
As Dean's breathings speeds up again Lisa's fingers interlock with his. The surprise of the action snaps his focus from all the people. Then, her thumb is slowly painting a circular pattern across the back of his hand. The soothing motion eases Dean's attention away from all the people and back to Ben.
Throughout the rest of the game, Lisa kept her fingers intertwined with his. Dean found the contact grounding. It reminded him that he's at a little league baseball game with regular people.
There's no monster, no ghost, no demon he needs to keep his eyes on. All he has to do is watch Ben hit the ball and cheer when he slides in safely at home plate.
Towards the end of the game, Dean actually started getting into what is happening on field, groaning when the other team scored and clapping when their team struck a batter out. And for the first time in a long time, Dean feels normal and maybe everything will be okay.
So….what do you guys think? Another chapter? Got any ideas for a chapter or a sequel? Review and let me know how I'm doing, I'd really appreciate it. :)