Hey guys, I know I've said this before but there's really no saying it enough haha, I wanted to thank you all for all the great reviews and the follows and the favs that I got on this story! :) It means so much knowing that people actually want to read this and it helps encourage me to go on and really want to finish it haha! We've still got quite a while to go til the finish, so I hope you can bear with me ;D Thanks for the support, I love you all ^_^
My beta is still on a temporary leave of absense so this is unedited. I did my best, but sorry if there are still errors left ;)
Fucking hell! Dean thought when violent tremors started to shake the ground beneath him. He had been searching the ground floor of the large mansion for almost a half an hour and had come up with nothing more than a deadly silent and largely black pit.
He didn't know if Cas had more luck but he figured that the guy would probably come and call him or something if he had been able to locate the douche that was responsible for all this. But now all of a sudden it was like fucking Armageddon in here, with the floor shaking so hard he had to grab hold of a nearby column to not fall over, and furniture rattling and crashing around all over the place.
"Cas?" he called out loudly, trying hard to keep his feet stable. "Cas!"
It felt like he was battling gravity on his own forever, but then suddenly he saw the angel appear right before him, seeming utterly undisturbed by the shaking ground, though his expression was largely agitated and anxious.
"Dean," he said quickly over the loud noise. "We need to go."
"Cas, what"-
He hadn't even noticed the angel reaching out to touch him, but a moment later the rumbling mansion around him was gone and he was greeted by the tranquil silence of a dark room. Just like that the fucker had zapped him again! They hadn't even found the damn angel yet and now he had no idea where he was once more.
It was slightly disorienting to have solid ground beneath his feet again after holding on for dear life to that pillar only moments ago. He stumbled to the side two steps before regaining his balance, looking around in confusion to make out something in the darkness.
"What the"- he murmured, trying to keep his voice down after his previous experience in Monica's apartment. "What's going on, where the hell are we?"
He looked around the room and the more his eyes got used to the darkness, the more the place seemed entirely familiar to him. Before any of them could say anything further, they were both interrupted by a stifled shriek from behind them, a woman's voice that had apparently just noticed the late-night visitors.
Dean instantly shot around into the direction where the sound had come from. "Crap," he murmured and a second later the room was flooded with light, revealing the house corridor right by the front door and the connecting passage to the living room, which was blocked by a very disturbed looking Lisa in her silk bathrobe.
"You – how did you – you," she rambled incoherently, her expression mixing a distraught sense of shock and infuriated discontent. "Where the hell did you come from?"
"Lisa…" Dean said slowly, cautiously, lifting his hands to try and calm her down.
"No, don't Lisa me, Dean, what the hell just happened?" she demanded, looking highly distressed. "You… you were just – I didn't hear the door, you were just there, how the hell did you do that?"
Dean glanced back and forth between her and the door, trying hard to come up with an explanation but failing miserably. She must have been distracted enough to not see them appear out of thin air, but alert enough to realize that they had not entered the house like normal people. He had no idea how he was gonna get out of this one.
"Yeah, ok…" he said slowly. "Here's the thing…" He helplessly looked at her, then back at the door, then down at his hands, then up at her again, but he was miraculously relieved of having to go on when she exclaimed in shock once more.
"What the-" she yelled in agitation, her finger shooting out to point at Cas who was standing silently beside Dean. "You – you were in our bedroom! You… who the hell are you?"
"Lisa, it's ok!" Dean interfered again, now looking back and forth between her and Cas. "It's ok, he's with me!"
Lisa looked incredulous, angry and scared at the same time. "He's – what?" she shouted, her voice bordering on hysterical. "Dean, why is the freak who was in our bedroom with you?"
Dean looked over at Cas who was frowning slightly at Lisa with his head cocked sideways, as if he was trying to figure out what this was all about. Resisting the urge to roll his eyes, Dean tried to explain. "He's… well, it's kind of complicated, but he's my friend." He stopped for a moment and gave her a calculating look. "What are you even doing down here anyway?"
"I knew you were up to something!" she said angrily. "I knew you left again after you didn't come back to bed and I wanted to wait and talk about it, but… I never expected…" She glared at both of them. "So, what, you knew that I wasn't dreaming? You knew that he was really there and chose not to tell me and WOULD YOU FUCKING STOP STARING AT ME?"
Castiel seemed confused at her sudden outburst and looked over at Dean uncertainly. Dean had no idea what to say; his issue of not knowing how to explain this night of being MIA to Lisa had just gotten a hell of a lot more complicated.
"I'm sorry, if I frightened you," Cas said to Lisa, his gravelly voice sounding highly earnest as he took a step forward. "That was never my intention, but I really needed to talk to Dean."
"And you couldn't just zap me downstairs for that?" Dean spat angrily before Lisa had a chance to reply.
Cas looked at him, his trademark confused frown once again visible on his face. "You don't like when I do that," he said as if it were the most logical thing in the world.
"You just zapped me around all evening!" Dean exclaimed, throwing out his arms in disbelief. "Plus again right fucking now!"
"I had to," Cas said simply. "You were in danger."
Before Dean could say anything, they were interrupted by Lisa's angry voice. "You were in danger?" she asked in disbelief, her eyes shooting daggers at both of them.
"Great," Dean grumbled at the angel. "Thanks!"
"Dean, what is going on here?" she wanted to know. "Where were you?"
Dean sighed. "Look, it's kinda complicated…"
"Try me," Lisa growled.
"It's my fault," Cas interrupted them again. "I asked Dean to assist me in my search of some missing weapons."
Dean knew the angel only meant well and wanted to help him, but he instantly felt the urge to facepalm himself as Lisa's expression grew even more distraught.
"Weapons?" she whispered. "What weapons? What for?"
"Cas, would you please stop helping me," Dean growled under his breath, earning himself a confused and, if one looked closely enough, slightly hurt look from the angel. Even in the course of this delicate situation he had noticed that there was something different about Cas than before, something about his aura that seemed slightly troubled or even… scared. What had the angel figured out in the mansion that he didn't know about? Why did they have to leave so hastily?
He wanted really bad to ask him, but he couldn't think of a worse possible moment to do it than now. Lisa was freaked out enough, he didn't need her to hear some random chunks of information about heaven and archangels and holy weapons.
"Dean… I thought you were done with hunting," Lisa said quietly and all anger in her voice had now given way concern. "Why… why are you involved with weapons?"
Dean gave her a pleading look, wanting nothing more than to tell her everything, but not knowing how to start. "Lisa, it's not what you think…" he said softly. "Look, I swear I can explain…"
She gave him a look that nearly stripped him of all his defenses, a look that was doubtful and worried and pained and so fucking compassionate that he would have preferred to vanish on the spot and never having to deal with this again. From that one look he knew that she knew, knew about all the nights he had spent up downing entire bottles of liquor, driving around on freeways and thrashing at random things, feeling fucking sorry for himself because he was gone and there was nothing he could do about it. She knew and she worried about him and she was just as helpless as he was. She was doubting if she and her kid could really handle this and he couldn't blame her. No one should have to deal with this.
"Dean," Cas interrupted the moment. "I need to leave. They will come after me, I need to leave before they ever know I was here."
Dean shot his friend a gaze that spoke volumes of his concern and his need to help.
The angel gave Lisa a regretful look, revealing how deeply sorry he was for the discomfort he had caused her. "You'll be safe, I promise," he said quietly.
"Cas, wait"-
But he was already gone.
"Dammit," Dean whispered in frustration.
Lisa gasped beside him, her brown eyes widening as they stayed fixed on the spot where the angel had vanished. Now he would really have a lot of explaining to do.
"Dean… who… what is he?" she asked, too confused by all this new information to stay angry any longer. Now she just appeared lost.
Dean sighed, rubbing his hand across his face in exhaustion.
"Let me guess," she huffed with a slightly sarcastic tone. "It's hard to explain."
Before Dean could respond, they were both interrupted by a sleepy voice from the staircase.
"Mom?" Ben asked, squinting in the brightness of the living room as he stepped down to join them in his pajamas, evidently having just crawled out of bed. "What's all the yelling?"
His confused and bleary eyes wandered back and forth between Dean and his mother, only barely registering their agitated and pained faces.
"Nothing, sweetie," Lisa immediately soothed him, plastering a soft and content smile onto her face. "Go back to bed, we're gonna be right up too."
"Ok," Ben murmured vacantly and proceeded to pad back up the stairs.
There was an awkward moment of silence during which both Dean and Lisa avoided each other's gazes, not knowing what to say.
"We should get some sleep," Lisa then said quietly. "We're still gonna talk about this, though."
Dean sighed inwardly, while she passed him to head up the stairs as well, and stared out the window with his green eyes filled with regret, mentally congratulating himself for the awesome job he had once again done in ruining his life.
"Can't wait," he murmured gloomily.
. . .
The next morning came with a highly discomforting awareness, for the moment he woke up Dean remembered everything that awaited him today. The spot in the bed beside him was already empty and the sun outside shone brightly through the curtains, making him realize that his exhaustion from his nightly activities had made him sleep in longer than he had in years.
It was a Saturday, so at least he hadn't missed driving Ben to school, but he still found himself highly nervous as he got out of bed and dressed himself, wondering how he was supposed to explain everything that had happened to Lisa.
He found her alone in the kitchen, washing some dishes and listening to music on the radio. "Morning," he murmured shyly from the entrance, not knowing what to do with himself.
She turned around and gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "Morning," she said. "Though it's way past noon by now."
Dean chuckled self-consciously, but didn't know what to say.
"I took Ben over to Rick's," Lisa said a moment later, returning her attention to the plate she was scrubbing. "Remember, cause of the birthday party…"
"Oh, yeah," Dean responded. "That's today, right."
So they were alone, which meant they should probably talk. The only problem was that Dean had no idea where to start or what he should say.
"You want some coffee?" Lisa asked, taking two clean cups from the cupboard when she was done with the dishes.
"Uh, yeah, thanks," Dean murmured, grateful for the distraction.
He sat down at the table and watched her work for a few minutes, before she set down two steaming cups before them and joined him.
"It's good," he said after taking a sip. She ignored him. He couldn't blame her.
They sat in silence for a few moments, each staring intently at their cup while all the unsaid things lingered between them. There had been a few times like this since he moved in, moments when both of them knew about a near breakdown he had suffered the night before, but neither of them had brought it up. None of those times had ever been this uncomfortable, though.
"So, do you wanna start or should I?" Lisa murmured after a few moments, finally looking up at him with pretty, troubled eyes.
"Look, Lisa," he sighed. "About last night…"
"It's not just that," she interrupted him quietly.
"What?" he asked, confusion making its way into his eyes.
"It's not just last night," Lisa explained. "There's… Look, I know there's something going on. I know there are a lot of things you're not telling me."
Dean looked at her beautiful face and saw all the distress there. He saw her concern and her doubts and her desire to help, but he didn't know what to say.
"You never really told me what happened before you showed up here," she went on when she realized he wouldn't speak. "I mean I know it's hard for you and you don't want to talk about it. You… you lost Sam and… I can't even imagine what you're going through. I don't mean to diminish that." Her voice was soft and comforting, but it still didn't ease the pain of any of the words she was saying. "But you have to understand, Dean, that… this isn't easy for me either."
She gave him a look that almost begged him to understand. "I mean, one moment you're basically suicidal and just take off and the next…" She sighed, cutting herself off. "I just wanna know how I can help you," she concluded softly.
Dean hesitated, still staring at his cup and fighting with his guilt of having pulled her so deeply into this. He had never wanted this. He had never wanted her to have to suffer through his pain.
"What do you want me to tell you?" he asked quietly, so quietly it was almost a whisper.
"Everything," Lisa responded earnestly.
Dean shook his head with a pained expression. "No," he decided. "No, I can't do that. Lisa, trust me, some of the things that"- He cut himself off and closed his eyes. "Trust me, you don't want to know."
"Yes, I do," Lisa said softly, her pleading expression not backing down for even a moment. "I can handle it. You think it helps, but not knowing only makes it worse, Dean."
He gave her a troubled gaze, doubt still written plainly across his features. He had really hoped it would never come to this.
"I can handle it," she repeated softly.
With a sigh of defeat Dean finally nodded. "Ok."
. . .
Castiel flitted from place to place, country to country, continent to continent in an effort to shake the pursuers, which had been on his tail since the mansion last night.
He had given up his advantage of having disappeared from the mansion right away by going back and letting Raphael's followers pick up his trail so he could safely lead them in the completely opposite direction of Dean, a fact which he had purposely not mentioned to the hunter before his departure.
His flight across the globe did come at a very inopportune time, for with all the new information Balthazar had given him, he would've preferred to have some time to quietly think everything over instead of having to run for his life.
And as he now knew, it wasn't only his life on the line anymore, it was the lives of most of humanity along with Dean and all his siblings that he cared about, because if they caught him there was no guarantee he wouldn't break. He was proud enough to think he had a chance of withstanding them, but he had also been proud the last time it had happened. He had been so sure of everything he had wanted to say to Dean, so sure of the path he was choosing and within only two days that had all been forced out of him by means too horrible to even contemplate. Of course it had not lasted as he had gone through with his rebellion anyway, but that would do the world little good once Raphael had managed to open the cage.
His only consolation was that he highly doubted his ability to provide Raphael with any useful advantages, seeing as he held absolutely no further knowledge about the cage. Even if they managed to break him, at least it would be only a small benefit for them.
The angel kept running and running, letting his wings carry him as fast and as far as he could, but he had been doing this for so long since he had left heaven for the second time that exhaustion was slowly catching up with him. He didn't know how much longer he could evade them.
They would soon catch up with him.
. . .
The silence in the kitchen was almost tangible while the afternoon sun outside marked how much time had passed. Dean still had the same empty cup before him that he had had hours ago and he was now softly nudging it back and forth on the table.
"So… yeah," he murmured, prodding the cup with his index finger. "That's everything."
"Everything…" Lisa repeated, staring emptily into space. "Whoa."
Dean was scared to look at her, scared that he had traumatized her beyond the possibility of repair. Maybe this had been a mistake.
"And you have no idea when it could happen?" she asked quietly. "Like… the devil"- he noticed a slight note of disbelief in her voice, as if she was considering whether not he was crazy – "could be set free at any moment?"
Dean nodded gravely. "Pretty much," he said.
"Do you, I mean do you even know if he – Cas figured out something last night?" she asked uncertainly, brows crinkling in concern.
"No clue," Dean sighed. "I wanted to ask him, but… you know everything just went so fast and yeah, you heard it yourself, then he had to leave so he wouldn't be followed here." He hesitated for a moment, remembering the angel's anxious expression. "I really hope he's ok."
He was surprised to feel the warm touch when she cautiously placed her hand over his. It was neither firm nor confining; he had the feeling that she wouldn't be upset in the slightest if he decided to pull away. It was merely an offering of comfort, a small gesture to show that she was with him, that he had not driven her away with any of the horrible things he had just told her. It was neither too little nor too much; it was perfect.
"Listen, Lis, I'm sorry I just took off last night…" he said quietly, finally daring to look her in the eyes. "He asked for my help and he's – you know… he's Cas. I couldn't say no." At the next thought that popped into his head, Dean immediately let out a small snort. "And believe me, he really needed it! Talking to people… not really his thing."
"Yeah," Lisa huffed in amusement. "Somehow I don't find that hard to imagine."
Dean chuckled, enjoying the warm sensation that coursed through him at something so normal as talking affectionately about his best friend to a woman he obviously had feelings for. A short moment later his expression returned to its serious state. "Look, I wish I could promise that it won't happen again…" he said sadly. "But the truth is, I don't know. I don't know what's gonna happen."
He was shocked at how crestfallen and helpless his own voice sounded and he suddenly realized that he was displaying the same type of hopeless behavior that he had given the angel such a hard time about when he had first come to him. It was so different with Lisa. With everyone else, Sammy, Cas, he always had to be the strong one. He had to be the one that believed they could fix it, the one that gave them all a kick in the ass and push them to what needed to be done when they were down and could see nothing but despair. But with Lisa… he had a chance to show a different side of himself. To show the side of him that was just as hopeless and scared as the fuckers he was trying to take care of. He could show her how damn scared he was and he knew that she wouldn't judge him.
She was the rock that he was clinging to.
He felt the tiny squeeze of her hand against his, showing him that she was here and that she wouldn't leave and he was so unbelievably grateful that she existed. Maybe it hadn't been wrong to tell her after all.
"Thank you," she said softly. "For telling me."
Dean immediately huffed, unable to stop his normal behavior from breaking through. "You shouldn't be thanking me," he said grimly. "God, that was some horrible stuff you had to hear"-
"I know," Lisa cut him off quietly, squeezing his hand again. "I know. I'm not saying it was nice to hear, I know it's horrible. But knowing all of that, knowing what is really happening… It beats being kept in the dark."
And Dean knew that she was right. Hadn't he himself hated that all through his childhood and even in his adult-years? How his Dad had never let him in on anything? Never the big picture, always only the need-to-know-basis. He knew that John had only been doing what he thought was right, but dammit, he had hated it. Thinking he would have to kill his baby brother and having now idea why, how and when. Lisa was right. Not knowing sucked.
"You're welcome," he said honestly.
She smiled at him and he smiled back and in that one moment he felt closer to her than he had ever felt to anyone in a long time. He didn't know what he had done to deserve someone like her. In fact, all the things he had done let him to believe that he would never deserve someone like her. But he would take what he could get without complaining.
"So…" Lisa said after a while, her tone taking on a slightly more causal note although still keeping the same level of intimacy. "The party Ben's at it is a sleepover…" She smiled at him and there was a beautiful, glowing joy shining from her eyes. "What do you wanna do tonight?"
Dean stared at her for a moment, not knowing what to say. Had Lisa just asked him out on a date? He was too stunned to even react, cause it was all so wonderfully normal it was too good to be true.
"God, you're staring at me as if you saw a ghost!" Lisa said laughing and then frowned at her own choice of words. "Although, no, you'd probably be less startled by that."
Her laughter was so beautiful Dean couldn't help but smile at her, but he still didn't know what to say. What did normal people usually do on dates? What could you do on a night out?
"Uh… I don't know," he murmured uncertainly, rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. Dean Winchester, the self-proclaimed ladies' man had no idea where to take Lisa on a date. "Um, do you wanna go to the movies or something?"
She looked at him for a moment, her smile suggesting that she was thinking about something he obviously hadn't considered. Then she looked down at their linked hands and played idly with his fingers. "Or we could just stay home," she said quietly.
Oh.
So that's where she was going with this. Dean instantly felt the need to hit himself over the head for not realizing sooner. Damn, what was up with him lately?
"Uh, yeah," he responded. "Or we could do that."
Lisa smiled at him and he actually felt nervous.
. . .
Castiel finally came to a stop on a muddy hillside in Northern Italy. He simply couldn't do it anymore. He had tried so hard, tried everything to get rid of his pursuers, but he had not managed this time, for they had been too close to him from the start. That mixed with the inevitable exhaustion of being on the run for months now made him disappointingly easy to catch.
He barely had time to let the silver handle of his angelic sword slip into his palm before a powerful flutter of wings marked the arrival of the first of his foes.
"You're making a mistake," Castiel whispered as his brother laid eyes on him and started to advance. "Please, there is another way."
He took several cautious steps back as the opposing angel proceeded to advance. "Brother, please," he begged. "I don't want to hurt you."
But it was no use as he had already expected; Raphael's follower gracefully leapt forward, brandishing his own blade and the two swords clashed with an enormous force. The duel was short lived as Castiel had infinitely more experience than his younger brother and so the latter soon fell to the ground, the true form behind his vessel shining out in a searingly blue burst of light.
"Why won't any of you listen?" Castiel exclaimed in desperation, the grief of having killed yet another one of his brothers spreading all throughout his grace.
Not a moment later did he hear the next flutter of wings behind him, but before he had a chance to react he was seized roughly by the arms and yanked backwards.
"They don't listen, Castiel…" the deep voice of Raphael's vessel spoke dangerously close to him. "Because their hearts are mine."
Fear instantly gripped the younger angel, for he had not expected the archangel himself to be so closely in his pursuit. Now he was truly lost.
He felt, more than saw, the presence of three further graces, three of the followers that Raphael had brought along for the chase, before he was pushed forward so violently that he couldn't stop himself from falling and rolling and tumbling all the way down the steep slope of the muddy hill until he crashed through what he could only presume was a withering wooden fence and came to a stop in a pile of broken fragments.
Before he had a chance to move, he felt a forceful kick connect with his vessel's side, doled out by one of the three followers who had already appeared by his side using their wings, and he crumbled in pain. A moment later he was ripped up from the ground by one of his brothers and felt the painfully hard fist of another collide with his jaw and cheeks several times. He kicked out to free himself and used his wings to pull himself out of their grasp, appearing again on the ground where he grabbed his dropped sword and whipped it up just in time to cut into one of his adversaries' arms. The wounded angel stumbled backwards, clutching the radiating cut where his grace was starting to leak out through the vessel.
Castiel jumped up and swung out his sword to meet the one of his second brother but was then struck from behind by the third, therefore stumbling forward and getting beaten to the ground by the two of them once more. He knew why none of them were using their swords. They needed him alive, needed him to provide information of the kind that Balthazar had told him and therefore Raphael had ordered them not to harm him any more than was necessary. Well, for now at least.
When he went to the ground once more, Castiel felt his sword being kicked out of his hand by one of his adversaries and he knew that he had lost. He felt their strong grip on his arms as they pulled him up into a kneeling position to face Raphael, he felt the blood of his vessel run over his face and he knew that he must be a pitiful sight to look upon.
He glared at the archangel for a moment, before opening his mouth to speak. "You can do whatever you want, Raphael," he growled. "I will never help you open the cage."
Unsurprisingly Raphael seemed utterly untouched by this, for he looked very pleased with himself. "Somehow, I don't think God will be interfering with your fate this time," he said.
All Castiel could do was show him his most defiant glare, but before any of them could do anything further there was a sudden flutter of wings, marking the arrival of yet another of their brothers.
"Hey!" Balthazar yelled from behind Raphael and Castiel stared at his friend in disbelief. "Look at my junk."
With those words he raised his fist to show a big glowing crystal that he was holding.
"No," Raphael gasped as the crystal seemed to get brighter and brighter. "No!"
And with a sudden burst of red light that originated from the stone the figures of all but Castiel and Balthazar seemed to dissolve on the spot, blasted away by whatever power the crystal held over them. The red light subsided as quickly as it had come until only the two angels remained on the field opposite of each other, Balthazar still holding the stone with a smug expression and Castiel kneeling on the ground, bloodied and beaten.
"Much more effective than your standard angel sigil," Balthazar chuckled, tossing the crystal once in his hand and then placing it in his jacket pocket. "Banish the poor suckers to whatever dimension you please and enjoy watching them scramble back out of it." He laughed at his own joke and then shrugged. "Won't keep them forever though I'm afraid, cause you know – archangel."
"You came back," Castiel said, still stunned from his brother's appearance. "How… how did you know where I was?"
"As you know I've got a few exciting toys up my sleeve," Balthazar responded, winking at him as Castiel slowly rose to his feet, still slightly unsteady from the beating he had just received. "And of course I did. Couldn't let the bloody bastards get what they wanted, now could I?"
Castiel took a step toward him, his expression earnest and grateful. "Thank you," he said. He remembered only last night having thought that the brother he had once known no longer existed. He had never been happier to be wrong in his life.
"Anytime, Cas," Balthazar responded, smirking slightly to keep his air of indifference upright, even though they both knew he was far from it. "I've had some time to over think the lovely reunion we had last night and… I've decided you're right. You do need my help."
He held out his arms in a celebrating gesture. "So, voilà. Consider me on board."
Castiel gave him the closest thing to a full warm smile he had ever given anyone, as he felt the mutual affection linger between their graces. This was more than he could ever have hoped for when he found out about the missing weapons.
"Thank you," he said once again, wanting Balthazar to know how deeply he owed him.
The latter shrugged. "You're gonna need my help too," he said with a light chuckle, before turning more serious. "There are some ugly things on the horizon, Cassie."
Castiel frowned at him. "What do you mean?"
. . .
Hours later, long after nightfall Dean lay in bed feeling more enthralled than at any other time in life he could remember.
Lisa lay across his chest, breathing deeply and evenly, the atmosphere around them both holding nothing but complete contentment. Maybe she was already asleep, maybe not, he didn't really care. All he cared about was the feel of her body so close to his, her naked bosom pressed against his chest, the beat of his quiet and contended heart against hers. Her disheveled brown locks tickled his nose as he gently buried his face in her hair; it smelled of roses and springtime and that passion fruit-scented shampoo she liked to use. He did not think that he could ever move away even if he wanted to; he could stay like this forever, one arm wrapped around her back, the other lifted up to her face and gently stroking through the tangle of her hair.
She was so beautiful.
Their night together had been so completely wonderful, he didn't even know if the general meaning of the word was sufficient enough to summarize it. Even now he relished every single memory he had, every word, every look on her face, every kiss, every touch. The feel of his lips on hers, the way the sensation of their touching skin had been able to enchant him. He had slept with plenty of women in his life and most of those times had been enjoyable, but none of it even compared to… this.
Except maybe Cassie. Cassie was the only other woman he had ever made love to.
Dean looked down at Lisa's relaxed face and wondered what she was thinking. Normally he might've wondered if it had been the same for her, might've thought that it was simply not possible that a woman like her could ever be happy with a mess like him. But strangely now, none of that seemed to bother him. Now all he could do was marvel at the wonder of her being and feel so unbelievably lucky that he was able to be here.
Because what had happened between them, had, for the first time in months made him… feel. Feel a connection to someone and to himself and to the world, feel something other than dead.
Ever since Sammy had died he had been a ghost. He knew that he still was, for there was no cure, no long healing period of time for the size of the hole that had been ripped into his being. That would never change. But up until now he had merely drifted, existed, gone through the day as a walking corpse, pretending that he was something other than Sam although he was no more alive than he was. But in that one moment between him and Lisa he had felt alive – even if only for a second.
He had believed to have lost that ability forever, that it had gone down to be locked in the cage along with his baby brother for all eternity. But here he was with this wonderful woman in his arms and for the first time since then it felt like he wanted to be here. That was more than he could ever have wished for.
He knew that it wouldn't last because Sammy was gone and he could never get over something like that. He knew that it wouldn't last because inside he was screwed to hell and messed up and broken into a million pieces. It wouldn't last.
But for now it was enough.
. . .
Rain poured and thunder rumbled across the bleak fields of Stull Cemetery near Lawrence, Kansas. The endless tons of water had churned up the bland grass into a muddy, wet carpet that lay beneath the randomly strewn tombstones.
In the midst of all this a tall man was sprawled on the ground on a center spot of the graveyard, his clothes completely soaked with water and his skin cold to the core. Anyone present might've sworn that he had not been there a few minutes ago, but in the deserted graveyard no one noticed his arrival but him. There were no clues to indicate where he had come from, he might as well have appeared out of thin air.
Peering out through the wet strands of his shaggy brown hair, Sam Winchester lifted his head and pushed himself up off the ground.