May 20th, 2006
"We're doing what now?"
It was the Saturday night of her birthday weekend and Lorelai found herself walking the streets of New York City, staring at Nick in disbelief as his features morphed into an expression of confusion.
"I just told you, my parents have Julia and Katie for the night, and I'm taking you to dinner at this nice Italian place I found last month."
Lorelai did her best to hold a smile, she really did, but she suspected her incredulity still shone through. Not only was it a rare, child-free Saturday night that she was home, but it was her birthday weekend.
"Just you and me?"
They veered to the side to dodge a group of people walking in the opposite direction, causing her to nearly bump into him. Nick furrowed his brow and nodded.
"Yeah, who else are you expecting?"
It was in that moment that Lorelai lost the battle with her self-control and rolled her eyes.
"I thought one of the benefits to us not working out was that I didn't have to date you anymore," she pointed out as they rounded a corner. Nick's expression turned from confusion to one of surprise and indignation.
"You've been running around for the past three months straight!" he cried defensively. "I thought you could use a low-key night."
He was being completely serious, and upon realizing as much, Lorelai couldn't help but let out a whine.
"Nick!" she complained. "You've known me for literally my entire life - twenty-seven years now, to be exact. When have I ever wanted a low-key birthday?"
To say nothing of the fact that that she'd been intentionally kicking it up a notch for the past seven years – her birthday was too close to too many anniversaries that made it hard to enjoy without a heavy-handed dose of distraction. Nick pretended to give her question some serious thought while she jumped a puddle.
"Your fifteenth was pretty lame," he finally said. Lorelai frowned and reached out to smack him upside the back of his head.
"Only because we broke up for the first time three weeks before when I caught you banging Rachel Wilcox." The 'you idiot' at the end was implied. Nick seemed stumped for a moment before mouthing an oh and Lorelai rolled her eyes.
"Right," he mumbled. "Forgot that was around the same time. Hey, wait a minute! Ian told me you, him and Liv just went for dinner for your birthday that year."
Lorelai snorted and Nick frowned, realizing only thirteen years after the fact that the wool had been pulled over his eyes.
"Yeah, that's definitely not what we did. I think your buddy was trying to spare your feelings – not that you deserved it." Nick's frown only deepened as they paused at the light, though he ignored the jab.
"Well, what did you really do then?" he asked curiously. Lorelai glanced at the traffic light, blurry images of their school days flashing through her mind and a wistful smile forming on her face.
"Fred and George snuck in for the weekend. Nolan and Ben got us and a few other people into one of the end-of-year parties a seventh year was hosting and by some miracle managed to convince Mark to be chill about it. There was lots of booze."
The light changed and they started to move again, separating briefly to get around the throng of people in front of them before joining back up.
"That was when you slept with Ben, isn't it?" he asked as they came back together. Smirking, Lorelai nodded, and Nick shook his head. "Merlin, you've always been a mess."
Lorelai's smirk turned into a full grin.
"Takes one to know one," she replied cheekily. Nick veered off, approaching a black-framed glass door with red columns on either side. Lorelai followed, resigning herself to an early evening and wondering if maybe Olivia would at least be willing to go out for drinks after.
"Isn't that the fucking truth," he muttered, holding the door open for her. They shared a small smile, the kind that only came with being friends for so long, before Lorelai walked in and nearly stumbled backwards at the noise and sight that greeted her.
"SURPRISE!"
Somewhere in the background an assortment of Weasley Wildfire Whizbangs had been set up and began happily zooming around the establishment, shooting colorful sparks in every direction as they went. Music was already pumping from the speakers while confetti rained down on her head, and the largest smile she'd sported in months came over her face as she looked around and took stock of her friends and family crowded into the bar. Nick came up behind her, laughing heartily as he slung an arm around her shoulders.
"After all this time, you didn't really think I'd get something as easy as your birthday wrong, did you?"
Lorelai laughed, throwing her arms around him in a hug before she was overrun by the crowd.
Later that evening, Lorelai couldn't help but let out a snort of laughter as Ron stumbled in his haste to get over to her and George, though she felt less guilty about it when George completely leaned into the moment, laughing so hard he nearly spilled the third shot he was still holding out in offering to his little brother. The pair of them were still giggling as Ron finally drew level, frowning between them and seeming equal parts embarrassed and annoyed.
"Bloody hell, you two are impossible," he muttered when George began miming Ron's overenthusiasm and subsequent misstep, causing Lorelai to howl in response. She went to pat Ron's cheek sympathetically, but he batted her hand away, laughter of his own brimming beneath the surface.
It was a few hours into the party and Lorelai was fairly certain that, with the exception of a rather-pregnant Hermione, everyone there was at least pleasantly tipsy, while many of them were rather drunk. Spirits were high, the music was loud, the booze and food plentiful, and the camaraderie was something Lorelai realized she'd begun to miss when she wasn't paying attention.
"Oh, don't be like that Ickle –"
"No! Blimey, you really are the older sister I never wanted," Ron groaned. Lorelai elbowed him in the ribs and reached for the shot glass he'd accepted from George.
"Fine then," she taunted. "We'll just call Ginny over here instead."
"Merlin knows she's the cooler one of you kids anyway," George tacked on. Ron shook his head quickly, holding his drink above Lorelai's head and out of her reach.
"No, no, no! I didn't say I was out!" he backpedaled. George caught her eye and Lorelai smiled wider, leaning back against the bar and reveling in the scene.
"Are you sure?" she needled. "Kind of sounded like –"
"I'm sure!"
"Well alright then!" George exclaimed holding his glass up between the three of them prompting Lorelai and Ron to quickly follow suit. "To Lorelai getting one year closer to being an old hag and giving us all an excuse to dump the kids and drink our faces off. May she remember this year that neither MACUSA nor the Ministry recognize 'but it was my birthday' or 'but I'm an Auror' as a legal defense."
Even Lorelai laughed.
"Hear, hear!" Ron seconded, holding his glass up to George's.
"Cheers!" Lorelai agreed, laughing as the three of them clinked their glasses and simultaneously tipped their heads back to down the firewhiskey. Lorelai and George slammed their empties back onto the bar top while Ron sputtered behind them. Lorelai motioned to the bartender for another round before cocking an eyebrow over her shoulder, smirking at Ron while George thumped him on the back.
"Still can't hang with the big boys, huh?"
Ron glared at her murderously, still coughing, while she merely grinned back and George laughed. Before he could respond, Lorelai turned to point out what she wanted to the bartender, holding up two fingers.
Moments later two clean glasses dropped in front of her and the man flicked his wand towards the liquor bottle before moving down the bar, where Lorelai saw Percy, Audrey, Emily, and the guy her twin sister had been seeing – Rupert, she thought his name might have been – laughing at something Kingsley had said.
Emily turned when the bartender drew level with their group, and for a moment before she turned back to the others her eye locked with Lorelai's. It struck Lorelai, in a way it normally didn't, how far they'd come. Despite their striking physical likeness and having shared a womb for nine months, they'd been born just far enough apart to have different birthdays – Lorelai having entered the world about ten minutes before May 18th, 1979 came to an end, and Emily following behind about twenty minutes after the 19th had started.
Growing up they'd have denied they were so much as blood if they'd been able to get away with it, and so they'd always been relieved that birthdays had been easy to make a separate thing, letting them continue to pretend the other didn't exist. Now Lorelai found she was relieved that they'd found a better way, and that even if they weren't best friends, she was happy her sister was there. If the look on Emily's face told her anything, they'd had a rare moment of synchronicity, and that her twin was feeling much the same way.
By the time Lorelai turned back around, Ron had been pulled away, already engaged in a conversation with Hermione. George smiled at her, and she passed him his shot as he settled back to lean against the bar next to her.
"In all sincerity, it's good to see you. Happy Birthday, Lorelai."
They clinked their glasses, downed their shots, and slammed them back on the bar behind them.
"Thanks, Georgie," she whispered, letting her head roll onto his shoulder. "It's good to see you too."
"Nick said you just finished up with a wraith in Arkansas?" he asked after a beat. Lorelai nodded in confirmation, the room spinning pleasantly and her body mindlessly swaying with the music.
"Yep. Found her on a dementia ward. It was a cursed object/vengeful spirit combo between that and the anniversary, then before that a jackass pawn shop owner Muggle-baiting in Vermont, a Wampus Cat in Pennsylvania before that, a vamp I stumbled across in Mississippi before that while I was making an arrest on one of the wizards suspected in that Atlanta murder... and I can't remember if it was the Acromantula or the vengeful spirit before the vamp." George grimaced but didn't say anything, even if Lorelai noticed the arm he'd slung around her shoulders had tightened ever so slightly. "How're Fred and Roxanne?"
The grimace was immediately replaced by a grin, and Lorelai found herself smiling as well when he fished in his pocket and withdrew a small picture of her young niece and nephew. Fred was three now, and from what Lorelai had witnessed, a rather energetic child – just as she imagined his namesake and his father had been – while Roxanne was only just past her first birthday.
"Brilliant, although Angie's worried she's going to be punished for what Fred and I put Mum through."
Lorelai giggled and glanced up at him with a knowing look.
"She's probably not wrong."
George shrugged, tucking the photo back into his pocket.
"No regrets."
"I would hope not," she scoffed.
"You've been lucky so far with Katie. Better hope she doesn't start to take after you the longer she's at school," he remarked, pointedly looking over the crowd and away from her, his eyebrows raised. "You were a bloody force of nature all on your own at that age."
Lorelai laughed, a retort on the tip of her tongue, when she felt a vibrating at her hip. Confused, she stood up straight, glancing around the room as she began to reach into her bag. Nearly everyone she knew was already there, the only real exception being the grandparents watching her multitude of nieces and nephews – even Conklin had come out for the evening, dragging Ezra along with him, though Lorelai suspected some amount of bribery had been involved in that. Point remained, no one should have been calling her.
George, catching onto what was happening, turned to look as well, and they exchanged puzzled expressions before her fingers finally found purchase on the small hunk of plastic she'd been rooting for. Pulling it out, she glanced at the caller ID only to feel her heart drop and anger bubble at the same time.
She hadn't heard so much as a word from him since Kinston. Not aside from the nearly worthless note he'd left on the pillow – Something came up, call you later – D. That he would be calling now, tonight of all nights, had to be a fucking joke.
Something must have shown on her face, because George's confusion turned to concern, and he bent his head to get a better look.
"Dean Winchester?" he questioned, reading over her shoulder. "Isn't that the bloke you were head over heels for, shacking up with last year?... Lorelai, what's wrong?"
"N-nothing," she told him distractedly, her heart pounding, mind racing, and buzz quickly fading. "And I wasn't shacking up with him," she muttered, catching up to what George had actually said. The mischievous grin that followed was far too reminiscent of the ones he wore frequently in their early days of friendship for her liking. The days when he'd enjoyed teasing her so much about her poorly hidden attraction to his twin.
"So what's the problem? Probably wants to wish you a happy birthday," George teased, his voice filled with innuendo, even if he was lacking his normal wit. Lorelai scoffed. She hadn't told him about Kinston, hadn't told anyone really, but word had at least gotten back to him that the radio silence had come to an end.
"Doubtful," she frowned. Probably doesn't even remember, the voice in the back of her head nagged. After all, she was apparently rather forgettable. And her actual birthday had been Thursday.
She only had another second or two to decide – take the call and open that can of worms or ignore the call and let it fester.
Seeing his name, Lorelai was surprised at how quickly the anger and hurt flooded her. But in the end, her curiosity won out, likely aided by the alcohol coursing through her blood, and she answered the phone, ducking towards the nearby bathroom and signaling to George she'd be back in a minute.
"What?" she nearly barked in a way of greeting. There was a pause on the other end of the line, a moment where she could only hear someone breathing, and Lorelai wondered if he was more surprised at the reception he'd received or that she'd picked up in the first place.
"Well don't you sound cheery," the all too familiar, deep voice of Dean Winchester finally answered.
A cursory look around the room and a more pointed one towards the bottom of the stalls confirmed she was alone. Rolling her eyes, Lorelai tossed her bag onto the bathroom counter and turned to lean against the wall, her eyes trained on the door.
"Oh, I'm sorry, were you expecting something else? Did you think you were going to get a 'hi honey, how's it going?'" she asked sarcastically. "Or a 'Dean? Oh baby, I missed you so much!'" she continued on in an exaggerated breathy voice, her anger building and bubbling.
She'd even tried to call the bastard in a moment of complete weakness, despite the fact that she had a hard rule about not chasing after people. She'd gottennothing.
"I mean, a 'hi' would have been nice."
Lorelai growled.
"You're lucky you got an answer at all!" she shot back. "Hell of a lot more than you gave me."
"I've had my hands full!" he defended, and Lorelai could have sworn she could sense laughter underlying his voice. "Besides, aren't you always saying sex is just sex and it doesn't mean anything?"
"Oh, you're hilarious," she hissed, blocking out the pain of the memory and focusing in on the anger. Anger was always easier. "Absolutely fucking hilarious. You should consider switching to standup. That's not out of context at all." Dean sighed, and Lorelai fumed. "What do you want?"
"Not possible I just called to say hello?"
From outside the bathroom, Lorelai heard a popping sound, even over the music, followed by a chorus of laughter.
Taking the call had been stupid. If he was wasting time with this kind of bullshit, obviously everything was fine.
"Goodbye, Dean," she said, preparing to push back off the wall and rejoin the party. Of course, the dismissal seemed to grab his attention in a way her venom hadn't.
"No, no, no, wait! Please!"
It was Lorelai's turn to sigh as she adjusted her grip on the phone and fell back into her leaning position. The desperate tone in his voice was not something she'd heard from Dean before, and as much as she wanted to hex him into the next century, she couldn't help but be worried. After all, they didn't talk casually anymore – his silence in the past week and a half had let her know that hadn't changed, loud and clear. Something had to have happened for him to be calling.
"What?" she asked impatiently. Dean paused, and his hesitancy did nothing to assuage her concerns.
"I need your help. It's… it's Sam. He's missing."
That caught her attention.
"What do you mean he's missing?" she asked, standing straighter, an edge already creeping into her voice.
"I mean he's missing," Dean answered. "We just got to town on a case, and he vanished."
There were a million questions she wanted to ask, but she tried to focus on the most relevant.
"What are you hunting?"
"Don't even know yet. Sam was thinking maybe a phantom attacker, but the MO doesn't match up. Whatever it is ain't takin' people from their beds."
"Anything at the scenes?"
"Nothing useful. Kid saw a local guy go missing the other night – said it sounded like a monster but didn't have much else to give us. Police said there were signs of foul play. Sam and I were at a bar, and he disappeared from the parking lot when I went to take a leak. No sign of anything out there though."
"Where are you?"
"Hibbing, Minnesota."
Lorelai frowned, trying to push past the alcohol induced fog in her mind to remember why Hibbing sounded familiar.
"And what exactly do you want me to do?" she asked, biting her bottom lip, already knowing the answer and buying herself time while she mentally warred over what would happen next. Her concern had pushed the anger to the backburner, but her nerves weren't as easy to shake.
"Anything. Anything you can do to help. I just, I need to get him back… he's my little brother, Lor, you know?"
She did know. And even if she didn't, it wouldn't have mattered.
Lorelai sighed, music still drifting in from the bar as she swayed on the spot. She closed her eyes, clenched and unclenched her fist, and willed herself to just accept what she already knew. Not only did she care about Sam… not only were Sam and Dean the reason she was still sucking air… but it was too easy to put herself in Dean's shoes. If any of her siblings were in danger, she'd move Heaven and Hell to save them. It was that ability to empathize that had kept her from laying into Katie for calling Dean in the first place.
"Be at 18th and 3rd in fifteen minutes."
Without waiting for a response, lest she lose her nerve, Lorelai snapped the phone shut, grabbed her bag back into her hands, and slipped back out to the party, already calculating the easiest way to make a break for it.
The noise on the other side of the door was deafening relative to the bathroom, and Lorelai involuntarily let out a whine upon realizing she'd be missing the rest of the night. George, of course, was where she'd left him, but had been joined by Ginny in her absence. They were eagerly waving her back over, George holding up another shot and waggling his eyebrows.
"So, what's the verdict?" he asked as she approached. From Ginny's face, Lorelai could only surmise that George had told his sister exactly where she'd gone, and Lorelai silently cursed herself, not for the first time, for having let Dean drop in on their family vacation. "going to let you give him a birthday tip?"
Lorelai grabbed the shot from his hand, elbowing him as she did so, and quickly knocked it back.
"It's not like that anymore," she grumbled, ignoring the way Ginny's eyes narrowed suspiciously as she dropped the glass back onto the counter.
"You're still going though, aren't you?"
It wasn't a real question, but Lorelai nodded absentmindedly anyway, already looking around the room. Eventually her eyes found Nick, and she couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief when she saw he was distracted, beer in hand, laughing at something with Ian and Olivia.
"He ran into a problem on a case, I've got to go help him."
Ginny had an annoyingly smug look on her face that Lorelai decided to ignore, while George stared back at her somewhat skeptically.
"Now?" he asked, and Lorelai nodded, looking between the Weasleys pleadingly.
"Yes, now. I'll Floo, don't worry. Just do me a favor and tell Nick? I don't have time to go ten rounds over the fact that I've been home less than 48 hours, and he thinks I work too much."
Neither Ginny nor George looked particularly comfortable at the prospect but they still nodded, and as soon as she had their consent, Lorelai was pulling each of them in for a goodbye hug.
"You're a bloody lunatic, I hope you know that," George whispered in her ear. Lorelai smiled, even though he couldn't see her face, and squeezed tighter.
"Beats being normal," she muttered back before moving onto Ginny.
Her sister-in-law gripped her tightly before holding her back at arm's length, examining. Lorelai was about to ask what she was looking for when the younger woman took out her wand and tapped the top of Lorelai's head. Ginny shrugged at the inquisitive look she received and stowed the wand back away.
"Just because it's work doesn't mean you can't show him what he's missing," Ginny quipped, her tone betraying exactly how much she bought the reasoning that it was work. "I only freshened up your makeup and hair a bit. Knock him dead."
Lorelai rolled her eyes but, noticing that Nick was getting ready to head back towards the bar for another drink, quickly said her goodbyes and made towards the backroom to use the fire.
Her stop home was quick, really nothing more than to grab the packed bag she kept in her closet for occasions like this. Passing by the bathroom she paused before ultimately grabbing something from the medicine cabinet to help her sober up a bit. The thought of coming face to face again with Dean had her stomach bubbling with anxiety and she wasn't eager to see how quickly it ramped up without any of the booze coursing through her bloodstream, but she also knew she needed her wits about her.
All too soon, Lorelai was slinging the bag over her shoulder, throwing Floo Powder into the grate, and calling out Palmer's while green flames swirled around her and she did her best to keep her elbows tucked in.
The bar she walked into was a stark contrast to the one in which she'd spent the majority of her evening. It was the definition of a hole-in-the-wall if she'd ever seen one, with country music playing dimly in the background, only a handful of patrons sparsely filling the space while a charmed broom swept the floors, and a weary-looking bartender stood, lazily charming rags to clean glasses in the dim lighting. Lorelai nodded in the man's direction as she passed through the space towards the front door, grateful for the easy gateway into the Muggle world, even if she didn't plan on coming back through.
The streets outside were equally desolate, and Lorelai wished she had grabbed a jacket or a sweater as it was a good bit cooler in Minnesota than it had been in New York. She only had time to appreciate the quiet and the night sky for a moment, however – she'd made it no more than six steps down the sidewalk when she heard the all-too-familiar sound of an old car door creaking open and then slamming shut.
Feeling an odd mix of tension and nerves, Lorelai turned on the spot and came face to face with the man at the root of her inner turmoil.
Dean stood there, looking just as he always did, though that did nothing to stop her breath catching in her throat – tall, broad-shouldered, short sandy-brown hair sort of spiked, green eyes that haunted Lorelai's dreams, and chiseled features. He was dressed in typical fashion with boots, distressed jeans, a non-descript t-shirt layered with an open flannel and gray military style jacket, and – of course – that brass amulet of his was hanging from its place of honor around his neck.
The pair of them stood there for a moment, about six feet apart, just taking the sight of each other in apprehensively. The tension was palpable. Lorelai noted that he seemed both surprised and confused, and she cocked her head to the side, silently begging the question what.
"You didn't mention you were already in Hibbing on the phone," he said, the suspicion evident in his voice. Lorelai rolled her eyes and subtly lifted the edge of her skirt to show off the handle of her wand.
"I don't exactly have to rely on the same transportation methods you do," she said dryly. "I was in New York."
Dean visibly swallowed and Lorelai let the fabric fall back into place. His eyes drank her in, scanning her form with an appreciative look from top to bottom – one which Lorelai refused to pay any mind to.
"Guess that explains the dress."
Lorelai glanced down, not having thought of it before, and realized she probably should have changed from the party. Not only was she cold, but she certainly looked out of place in her gold heels and burgundy cocktail dress.
She narrowed her eyes warily at him when she looked back, but Dean shot her one of his charming smiles – the kind that used to make her heart flip and the heat pool in her stomach. "You look smokin'."
Lorelai huffed. She would not let Dean Winchester get under her skin again.
"Just get in the damn car."
Dean nodded and headed back to the driver's side, keeping his eyes trained on her as he did so.
"Where are we going?" he asked. Lorelai dropped into the passenger's side and waited for him to join her, looking around the interior and dropping her bag on the floor as she did so.
Despite the days she'd spent earlier that month with him and Sam, Lorelai hadn't been in Dean's beloved Impala since they'd gone their separate ways in Ellsworth, and she fought against the onslaught of memories. It was unchanged, save for a few of his and Sam's personal belongings littering the space. She was relieved to see he hadn't left any weapons around, although she was fully aware he likely had more than one on him.
"You're going to take me to where you lost Sam, and then we're going to find a motel for the night and figure out a game plan," Lorelai told him. Dean nodded, throwing the car into reverse and backing them out onto the road before putting it back in drive and heading down the road. "On the phone, you said you guys thought it might have been a phantom attacker?"
But Dean was shaking his head before she even finished the question.
"If it's our kind of thing then maybe, but like I said, MO doesn't fit. Sam said Hibbing has more missing persons per capita than anywhere else in the state, and that's probably the biggest red flag we have on the whole thing."
Lorelai frowned, still trying to wrack her brains.
"When you said Hibbing, it sounded familiar, but I can't remember why," she admitted. "I can put a call into the office tomorrow to see if we have anyone working a case out this way or if we've picked up on anything."
Despite her cursory check, Lorelai couldn't help but find her eyes still darting around the car nervously. And although Dean's eyes were on the road, he seemed to notice her unease and shot her a concerned look.
"You alright?"
Lorelai nodded, but he didn't seem convinced, and when they came to a red light, he took a moment to look around the car himself.
"Everything's in the trunk like it always is," he told her slowly, putting the pieces together. Feeling caught, Lorelai felt her cheeks flame as they began down the road again. "Lor, come on. I wouldn't have asked for your help if I wanted to hurt you. Hell, I wouldn't have come running a few weeks ago if that were the case."
It was a valid point, but she huffed anyway, turning her head forward, her eyes trained out the windshield. Anywhere as long as she wasn't looking at him.
"I didn't have my magic then. Not really, anyway."
"Yeah, well I didn't know that, did I?"
It was another valid point, but Lorelai stayed quiet rather than acknowledge it.
In all fairness, she wasn't entirely sure why she was so on edge about it herself. Maybe because it was easier to remember the uncomfortable look on his face when he'd witnessed the return of her magic than it was to let herself think of how it'd felt to fall asleep in his arms again. Maybe because that look had fueled her anxiety when he'd disappeared without an explanation. Maybe because it was easier to live with the idea that he had an issue with what she was rather than who.
"How did you guys catch wind of this anyway?" she asked instead of lending voice to any of those thoughts. Dean frowned, glancing over in a way that let her know he was debating whether to push the conversation further.
"Sam saw the story in the paper," he finally answered, "about this guy Jenkins disappearing. He remembered Hibbing from our dad's journal, and we weren't too far away."
Lorelai hummed in acknowledgement and continued to stare out the window while Dean drove. The silence that fell over them was something between awkward and uncomfortable – a far cry from the easiness that used to color their interactions, and Lorelai tried not to dwell, instead focusing on the passing streetlights and the rumble of the engine. She felt Dean glancing at her ever so often but maintained her façade of indifference.
Her head was swimming a bit and Lorelai wondered if she should have done more to sober up after all, even as she settled back into the bench seat. Lynyrd Skynyrd spilled from the radio, filling the airwaves between them. There was a part of her that knew she should be asking questions, start doing her job, but the need to take a beat was too great.
The music and the quiet seemed to ease something, even if only a bit, and as Simple Man turned into CCR's Fortunate Son Lorelai noticed Dean's fingers had begun to lightly tap along with the beat against the steering wheel as they so often did, while her own had begun to do the same against her leg.
But even as things eased, Lorelai found herself still uncomfortably aware of Dean's presence, as well as her own. The weight of things unspoken between them, the one that had lightened somewhat in the aftermath of their reunion in Kinston, had returned heavier than before. There'd always been such a natural chemistry between them, it felt odd to have to think about how to interact with him now, to not know where they stood. It was jarring, even, given the context of their last encounter, but no less real.
Eventually Dean pulled into the parking lot of Kugel's Keg, a place that seemed, at least from the outside, like a biker's bar. He caught her eye as he killed the engine and her mind went frustratingly blank in that moment, the stupid, small smile he sent her making her heart flutter in a way that just made her mad. At him or at herself she wasn't entirely sure.
"You alright?" he asked again.
"Yeah," she answered, doing her best to reconstruct the walls she preferred to hide behind as quickly as possible but scrambling. "You just need to update your cassette collection. Don't you ever get tired of listening to the same shit over and over again?"
She wasn't sure why she'd said it – their shared taste in music was one of the first things she'd noticed and appreciated about him, and she was equally guilty of the same behavior. Dean, frustratingly, seemed to recognize the barb for what it was and smirked back at her, mirth dancing in his eyes.
"I'll change it when we get back in the car, princess."
Without waiting for a reply, he opened the car door and got out. Lorelai stayed frozen for just a moment, but quickly followed behind, mentally willing herself to get her shit together. This wasn't about her, or Dean, or her and Dean – it was about Sam, and she needed to stow the baggage.
The road and lot were devoid of anyone else, although, from the looks of it, the bar was still plenty busy. Lorelai looked around, noting that it wasn't particularly well lit and that between the cars and the surrounding trees there were plenty of places for things or people to hide. Dean watched her, waiting, and after a minute she turned back to him.
"Walk me through what happened."
Dean nodded, both of them coming around to the front of the car. He was already pointing towards the front door, and Lorelai found herself slipping into work mode, the skin so warm and familiar it overrode her other warring emotions, even if only temporarily.
"Sam and I had been inside talking shop and grabbing a drink, but he wanted to call it a night. I came out maybe five minutes after him, headed over here where we parked. My um, my dad's journal, the one he keeps all his hunting notes in, was sitting on the trunk." Lorelai frowned, realizing that with everything going on, she hadn't talked to them much about what was going on with John, but if Dean noticed the shift in her expression, he didn't pay her any mind, continuing on. "I checked in the car. Obviously, he wasn't there, and then I looked around. No one had seen anything, and there weren't any signs of a struggle from what I could see. No sulfur. Powerlines made checking for EMF useless, but we got nothing indicating we're dealing with a spirit anyway."
Lorelai nodded, looking around before subtly slipping her wand out and lighting its tip with a flick of her wrist, careful to keep Dean between herself and the bar as a shield from any prying eyes.
"Any more word on John?" she asked gently, inching towards the tree line, her eyes scanning the area methodically. Dean stiffened beside her and she remembered the edge in his voice when he'd talked about his father's growing flakiness in those last few days of theirs together.
"No," he admitted, his voice betraying his frustration, "he's still off the grid. Last we heard from him was about a month ago when he called to tell us to stop looking for him and sent us on a case."
Lorelai spared him a sympathetic look before continuing on.
A few minutes later she was forced to concede that Dean had been correct in his assessment that there was nothing to learn from the parking lot, but as she put out her wand and swung around tell him as much, her eyes caught on the camera above head out on the road.
"Well?" Dean asked, holding his arms out questioningly. Lorelai pointed, walking back towards him and stopping about a foot away.
"That should be helpful."
Dean followed her finger, only for disappointment to flash across his face.
"Yeah, I saw that," he admitted, and Lorelai couldn't help but scrunch her features in confusion.
"Why didn't you say anything? Better yet, why did you call me?" They both knew he was perfectly capable of getting his hands on whatever the camera had caught, and at the question Dean shuffled uncomfortably. Lorelai, however, didn't look away and eventually he met her eyes again, scratching at the back of his neck.
"Thought you might be able to wiggle your nose and get him back or something?"
Dean at least had the grace to look somewhat sheepish. Lorelai snorted and stared back skeptically.
"I'm not some TV character from Bewitched," she chided, her voice colored with exasperation, but rather than be amused, Dean only looked dejected. The sight tugged at her heart and, sympathy getting the better of her, Lorelai found herself reaching for him instinctively. It was only at the last possible moment that she caught what she was doing and dropped her hand lower to awkwardly pat his shoulder reassuringly rather than cradle his face. She ignored his look of surprise and the heat she felt rising in her own cheeks. "Come on, let's go settle in somewhere for the night. I might not be able to make Sam reappear instantly, but I'll have an easier time getting my hands on that footage than you will, and I have a few tricks up my sleeve. We'll find him."
"I take it you can't just use magic to get the footage now, then?" he asked, and Lorelai shook her head, her lips pulling into a smirk.
"No."
"But, I mean, you're full on witch again, right? I figured there'd be some kind of –"
"Magic lesson 101, dude," she cut across him as they both climbed into the car. "Magic and technology aren't great friends. There's ways to blend them, but it's exceptionally difficult when you're working with tech that hasn't been modified. I'd probably fry that camera if I tried anything."
Dean sighed but nodded and turned over the engine. True to his word, he swapped out the cassette tape, wordlessly fishing one of Lorelai's favorites from the box. She bit her lip as Paint it Black began to play out, but kept silent while Dean pulled back out onto the road, muttering something about a motel he and Sam had seen on the way into town.
The drive itself was uneventful, and slightly less tense than the ride from Palmer's to Kugel's Keg had been. Lorelai shot off a message to Katie, telling her what was going on and that she'd be home as soon as she could. She thought about texting Nick as well, but resigned herself to the earful she was sure to get the next day anyway and decided to let it wait. Once she got a good luck text back from her sister, Lorelai stowed the phone and settled back into the seat. The steady sound of the Impala's engine was comforting and coupled with the activity of the night and the drinks from earlier, Lorelai felt herself starting to grow tired.
When they parked in front of the office at the Hickory Hill Motel, Dean turned to look at her somewhat awkwardly, and it only took Lorelai a moment to guess the question nagging at his mind.
"One room's fine," she told him, "just get two beds."
Something flashed across his face – maybe disappointment, but it was gone so fast Lorelai couldn't be sure – and then Dean nodded, heading into the small building without another word.
The room they ended up with made the musty lodgings in Kinston look like a damn palace, and Lorelai failed to keep the grimace off her face as her eyes scanned the space. It smelled like stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener that did nothing to cover the smell, but instead only mixed with it in a somewhat nauseating way. The threadbare carpet was littered with suspicious stains, and she suspected that closer inspection of the faded, floral bedspreads would reveal the same.
"Well," Dean said, tossing his duffel onto the bed nearest the door, "it's not the Ritz, but it'll do for the night."
Lorelai couldn't help the derisive snort that escaped her.
"That's one way of putting it," she muttered, and Dean shot her a wry smile over his shoulder even as she ventured further inside the room, still holding her own bag.
"What, not up to your usual standards, sweetheart?"
Lorelai rolled her eyes, but there was no real heat behind the gesture.
"Please. I've stayed in worse places than this… Though not by much," she added after a pause.
Without thinking much of it, she reached for her wand, already mentally running through the battery of quick cleaning charms she'd mastered over the years. Dean clocked the gesture, and it made her pause for half a second before she decided she didn't give a shit. He could be as uncomfortable as he wanted – she was what she was and hiding it wasn't going to make anything better.
A few flicks of her wand later and the room began to right itself – the stains vanishing from the carpet, the sun-bleached colors coming back to life, the bedspreads puffing back up as if they were new, and the air clearing, leaving behind a light, citrusy smell. Dean watched with a mixture of awe and unease, frozen in his tracks.
"Something wrong?" she asked, pocketing the wand as she finished up. The question seemed to startle him back to life and he shook his head, reaching for his bag.
"No. That, uh… that's handy."
Lorelai hummed and dropped her own bag onto the remaining, and now clean, bed.
"Figured we'd both rather not sleep in a petri dish. Look, I know you're not still entirely comfortable with –"
"Hey – no, no, no," he interrupted quickly, throwing his hands up in a placating gesture. "I'm cool, Lor, I promise. It's… it's all good. It's just… different. Give me a chance to get used to it."
Lorelai let herself soften just a bit and met his eyes, giving him a small nod.
"Okay."
For a moment the weight of everything upspoken and all the lingering emotions came back, hanging between them like a physical presence. Dean was the first to look away, running a hand through his hair.
"So, uh, what's the plan for tomorrow?" he asked, clearly eager to change the subject. Lorelai latched on, jolting back into action herself.
"First thing in the morning, we'll head to the county works department and see what the camera picked up. In the meantime, we need to go over everything you and Sam had on your missing person before Sam disappeared," she said, moving to stand between their beds and taking a seat on the edge of hers. Dean eyed her, but then grabbed a bunch of papers and a leatherbound book and made towards her.
"It's not much," he admitted, letting her take everything but the book. For a moment he seemed to wrestle with himself but then settled on the edge of his own bed, across from her, and braced his elbows on his knees. "Like I said earlier, we picked it up in the paper and weren't far away. This guy Jenkins gets abducted while he's taking out his trash, kid sees it happen from the window and says a monster took him. Sam and I were nearby and noticed our dad had marked the area, so we decided to check it out."
"So you talked to the kid?" she asked, scanning the newspaper article before turning her gaze back to Dean. He nodded.
"Yeah, earlier today me and Sam dropped in. Kid says he heard the monster and went to go look out the window, and that's when he saw Jenkins get pulled under the car. He said there was a whining growl when the monster took Jenkins away."
"And is the kid…"
"Reliable?" Dean finished for her, shrugging when Lorelai nodded. "Could be, could not be. He was watching Godzilla vs Mothra when it happened, but he seemed pretty clear about what he saw. Local police haven't ruled out foul play and are saying there were signs of a struggle. So could just be some normal, human freak picking people off."
"What do you have indicating it's your normal kind of thing?"
Dean hesitated, but then flipped the book open and turned it so that she could see.
"My dad had it marked – Hibbing has more missing persons per capita than anywhere else in the state, and he found a lot of local folklore about a dark figure that comes out at night. Grabs people, then vanishes."
Lorelai frowned and leaned forward to inspect the book closer. Hibbing still sounded familiar, but she had a feeling that may have had to do with the missing persons statistic – the local folklore didn't ring any bells, but the missing persons did. That didn't mean it wasn't valid, though. There wasn't enough information, and she wouldn't have been surprised either way. There were plenty of monsters out there in the world, but she knew from experience that humans were just as dangerous.
They talked a little bit longer, spinning theories and trying to comb through John's notes, but there wasn't much to work with, and eventually they were both yawning despite their best efforts.
"We need to sleep," she said, handing Dean back the materials he'd given her earlier. He looked like he wanted to argue, but Lorelai shook her head. "There's nothing we can do right now, and you're no good to Sam dead on your feet. Grab a few hours."
"Yeah, alright," he agreed reluctantly, but when he didn't move, Lorelai arched an eyebrow. He hesitated, his eyes darting to her face and then away again, catching her interest. "Look, I know you can't get anything out of the camera, but is there any way you could, I don't know, use your mojo to figure out if Sam's okay? Or maybe figure out some sort of… I don't know, magical GPS?"
Lorelai felt her heart sink. She'd been dreading this question, knowing it would come eventually. It was always hard for Muggles to wrap their heads around the fact that magic wasn't a cure all. She did her best not to dwell on the fact that if it weren't for the misconception, if Dean hadn't hoped her magic could help him, he probably wouldn't have called at all. She could unpack that later.
"Dean," she began, her voice gentle but firm.
"I know, I know," he cut in, holding up a hand. "It's probably not that simple. But there's gotta be something, right?"
The hope in his voice made Lorelai's chest ache. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for the disappointment she was about to cause.
"Technically, yes," she admitted reluctantly. "There are spells that could help us find Sam or at least tell us if he's okay."
Dean's face lit up, but Lorelai quickly continued before he could get too excited.
"But," she said, emphasizing the word, "those spells involve blood magic. It's highly illegal – like, lose my wand and spend some serious time in Tyranmac illegal – wizard prison," she clarified at his confused look. "And even if I weren't worried about breaking those laws, which I am, I'd need to research how to do it properly. I know a lot of stuff, but blood magic isn't something I'm super familiar with. Not in this context."
Dean's shoulders slumped, the weight of their situation seeming to press down on him. And though she could tell he tried to mask it, she knew him well enough to see the building frustration.
"So that's it? We're just gonna sit on our hands and hope we get lucky?"
"No," she said carefully, "we're going to follow the leads we have. We'll see what the traffic cam caught in the morning, canvas the area, run plates if we find any… follow every lead we can. And if it comes down to it… if we truly have no other options… then we'll get… creative. But only as an absolute last resort. Let's at least try to find him with what we have first, okay?"
Dean nodded, some of the tension easing from his frame, though the undercurrent of frustration persisted. He looked exhausted, the events of the day clearly taking their toll. Lorelai felt her own fatigue settling in, the adrenaline from earlier fading and leaving her drained.
"Yeah, alright," he acquiesced. "I guess that's the best we can do for now."
"C'mon," she cajoled, glancing at the clock on the nightstand between them. "We really should try to get a little bit of sleep."
Dean nodded again, rubbing a hand over his face.
"Yeah, you're right. I'll just, uh…" he trailed off, gesturing vaguely to his bag.
They both stood, a silence falling over them again as they each went through the motions of winding down for the night. It was as she was kicking off her heels that she felt Dean's eyes on her again and sent him a questioning look.
"What?"
"Nothing," Dean said, shaking his head. "You just never did tell me what you were all dressed up for. Hot date?"
Lorelai froze her hand still in her bag, clasped around the shirt and sleep shorts she'd been digging for. She could hear the poorly concealed jealousy in his voice, as well as the hint of hurt underneath his attempt at nonchalance – but it only made her angry, and her eyes narrowed of their own accord.
"What's it to you?" she challenged, and Dean held up his hands in a placating gesture.
"What, can't a guy be curious? I mean, you show up here, looking like that… I'm not judging. Just, you know, making conversation. Hope I didn't interrupt anything."
Lorelai looked back at him, unimpressed.
"Right. Because that's what we do now, is it? Make small talk about our dating lives? You wanna hear about the guy I hooked up with when I went back to London a few weeks ago? Or how about –"
"Alright, alright," Dean winced, having the grace to look sheepish. "I didn't mean –"
"Save it," Lorelai cut him off, finally pulling out the clothes and heading for the bathroom. "It's none of your business what I was doing. Important thing is I'm here now, so let's leave it at that, shall we?"
Without waiting for a response, she closed the bathroom door behind her, perhaps a bit more forcefully than necessary. She leaned against it for a moment, taking a deep breath to calm herself. It wasn't fair of him to ask that, to act like he had any claim on her time or her life. The hurt and anger she'd been doing her best to push down threatened to bubble up, but she forced it back yet again. Now wasn't the time. Sam needed them and that needed to be where she kept her head.
When she emerged, Dean was already in bed, the covers pulled up to his waist, his bare chest visible in the dim light of the bedside lamp. Lorelai averted her eyes, ignoring the familiar rush of attraction that coursed through her.
She crossed to her own bed, slipping under the covers and reaching to turn off the lamp. But before she could, Dean's voice stopped her.
"Hey, Lor?"
She paused, her hand hovering over the switch. "Yeah?"
"I just... thank you. For coming. I know things aren't great between us, but..." He trailed off, and Lorelai turned to look at him. His face was half in shadow, but she could see the sincerity in his eyes anyway. "It means a lot," he finished softly.
Lorelai swallowed hard, pushing down the surge of emotion his words evoked. Damn him.
"Yeah, well… I'll always come when you need me," she managed, echoing his words from the last time she'd seen him. Dean nodded, his gaze dropping to his hands before he spoke again.
"And, uh... I'm sorry. For asking about… you know. It wasn't my place. But for what it's worth… you did look really pretty tonight. Whoever you were out with... he's one hell of a lucky guy."
The words hit Lorelai like a punch to the gut. She turned away quickly, flicking off the lamp and plunging the room into darkness.
"Goodnight, Dean," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
It wasn't long before Lorelai could hear Dean's steady breathing from across the room. She stared at the ceiling, her mind racing. It had been her birthday, she thought bitterly. She'd been out celebrating with her friends and family, people who cared about her. People who wouldn't leave her without a word, who wouldn't make her feel like she was constantly walking on eggshells.
But even as the resentment bubbled up, Lorelai couldn't quite squash the part of her that still cared for Dean. The part that recognized the pain in his voice when he'd called about Sam, the gratitude in his eyes when she'd shown up to help.
With a quiet sigh, Lorelai rolled onto her side, facing away from Dean's bed. Tomorrow, she told herself. Tomorrow they'd find Sam, and then she could go back to her life. Back to pretending that Dean Winchester didn't still have a hold on her heart.
Hope you all enjoyed! Thank you as always for reading ❤ I will see you all next week!