Release
John Winchester could not bear to live in Lawrence after the death of his wife. He would see her everywhere: at the grocery store, at the garage, at the park that they took the boys to on weekends… Everywhere he would be waiting for her but she never came. Dean had gotten quiet. Though they never talked about it, John could tell he was hurting. Sammy would look around for her, waiting for her to come to his crib.
It was easier for them to leave. He packed the boys in the car and drove for part of the night. Despite his need for space from their old home, he could not go too far. Something had happened in their house that night. And he had to find out what happened. For Mary.
They traveled around for weeks, going around from motel to motel. It went on this way for a few years as John searched for meaning to that night with Missouri Moseley’s guidance.
Dean was fifteen when they settled in Wichita. The duplex offered a roof over their heads at a reasonable price. Dean and Sam had their own room and the place was close enough to the local schools should they end up staying through the summer into September, though the chance of that happening was slim.
Chloe Sullivan stayed with her grandmother that summer. It was tradition ever since the first summer after her mom left. Nana had been more than happy to have her granddaughter to the house for the summer months, letting her run and be happy - to act like a kid.
Chloe had met Sam and Dean that summer. They hit it off right away, being strangers in the neighborhood and therefore outside of the cliques that dominated the others their age.
Though she was closer in age to Sam, that summer Chloe had her first kiss with Dean. The two had been roped into a faux wedding ceremony by one of the little girls in the neighborhood whom she had been forced to entertain while her grandmother babysat the girl. Dean had been ready to shoot himself in the face. Chloe would have rather been anyplace else in the world.
---
Chloe didn’t know why she started thinking of that summer day in the cramped backyard of her grandmother’s house, nearly fifteen years later. On today of all days, when she was supposed to be getting married.
Married.
The word sounded foreign on her tongue. Along with the words fiancé, wife, husband, potpourri, she felt like everyone around her had been speaking a completely different language these last couple months. Not that she had been hearing it much. She had been there, but she wasn’t there.
Work kept her occupied. Her focus was on the different activities going on rather than the actual wedding planning. Jimmy’s mother had been more than happy to do most of it. Chloe had chosen her dress and the colors. That had been her contribution to this charade.
And now, she was here. The wedding march had started. She was in the dress that was hard to breathe in, clutching a bouquet of roses. Chloe preferred tulips. Her father was standing beside her, ready to give her away.
Such an antiquated ritual, but it made her father happy.
One look at Jimmy’s grin made the realization sink in.
He had no idea who he was marrying. No idea that the girl he was about to marry was secretly Watchtower, communications expert, den mother, and public relations guru of the Justice League.
A girl who didn’t know what she wanted to do with herself.
A girl that did not want to settle down in a four-bedroom house out in the country with 2.5 kids and a picket fence. She never wanted to drive a minivan.
She did not want to be the woman that Jimmy wanted her to be.
She was a Mary Tyler Moore or Murphy Brown.
Jimmy wanted a June Cleaver or Donna Reed.
It was time to stop kidding herself.
She couldn’t do this.
The twisting in her gut made her halt her procession. She was going to be sick. Her father looked at her, concern etched on his features. A knowing look appeared in his eye as he realized that his daughter had made her choice. Better late than never. His grip loosened on her arm.
Thanks, Dad.
---
She had run. Hailing a cab in front of the church, Chloe ignored Lois’ protests for her to stop. After a quick stop at her - no, Jimmy’s apartment, she set out on the road.
There was no where she intended to go. She just wanted to be away. Once on the highway and well on her way out of Metropolis, she shed the veil and tossed out of the window.
She would go back, eventually if she wanted to, but not to Jimmy.
Chloe knew he probably never would forgive her, but she would never have been able to forgive herself for going through with it. She was just saving them the legal fees a couple years in advance.
Exhaustion began to take its toll and soon she was having trouble keeping her eyes open. She realized her grandmother’s exit was just up ahead, but she knew the woman was not going to be home. She was back in Metropolis, staying with Chloe’s father, having been there to witness her granddaughter getting married.
Chloe found the old house easily though it had been years since she had been in town. The neighborhood looked more run down than she remembered, but it still held the quaint homey feel that Chloe always associated with summer.
Parking in the street, Chloe got out of the car and remembered it had been a lot easier maneuvering in the dress when she had been driven by adrenaline just a few hours ago. Her heels clicked on the cracked pavement as she walked up the driveway towards the fence to the backyard.
Her eyes scanned the trellis running up the side of the back porch. Dean and Sam used to use it to get into her room, usually to play pranks or just to come bother her long after the streetlights had dimmed. Maybe she could get up there, despite being weighed down in fabric and tulle.
Chloe was considering her options on how to get inside when she heard the sound of gravel crunching under foot. Her eyes widened as she turned to look around the back yard.
“Clark?” She asked, knowing he would be the only one who would be able to get to her this quickly and know where she was. Bart would be her second guess.
“Nice dress.” A man stepped out of the shadows of the yard, hands in the pockets of his leather coat. He walked closer to her, stepping into the light. If she hadn’t run into him a couple of years ago in Dallas, she would have never recognized Dean Winchester.
He looked worn, tired. Much more troubled than the last time she had seen him. The ever mysterious Winchesters was one story she never could figure out. Their mom had died when they were young and that’s when John’s nomadic tendencies began. She could only assume that Sam and Dean had followed in his footsteps.
“What are you doing here?” Chloe asked curiously, mouth slightly agape in surprise. If she was a betting woman, she never would have put money on the odds that she would run into Dean Winchester in her grandmother’s backyard in Wichita again.
“I was in the neighborhood,” He shrugged. “Thought I’d stop by and see the old place.”
Chloe would never know he was in Wichita on a hunt and that he had been squatting in the now empty duplex after having a run in with the local police department. Sam was at the motel, but Dean thought it would be safer to steer clear of them for a while.
Her brow furrowed suspiciously. “You were only here six months.” He couldn’t really miss this place that much, could he?
“Longest I’ve ever stayed in one place,” Dean answered. His eyes scanned the ivory dress. “You look -”
“Like I could use a drink?” Chloe offered, tucking a windblown curl behind her ear. She wiped under her eyes, knowing her make-up had probably run after hours on the road and the few tears she had shed. Tears of relief, not sadness.
“Mrs. Johnson told me your grandmother had gone to your wedding this weekend.” He had run into her while stocking up on salt to encircle his sleeping bag in. The old busy-body recognized him, even after all these years.
Chloe sighed. “It was supposed to be today.” She sat down on the patio wall, not caring if the back of her dress got dirty. The memories that were supposed to come with this dress were not there. It was just an expensive dress that she wore for a day.
“Supposed to?”
“I ran.” As if wearing a wedding dress was not enough proof. She felt him sit down on the wall next to her. “I panicked.”
“Survival instinct,” Dean corrected wisely. “You’re too young for that marriage bullshit anyway.”
She laughed, corners of her mouth twitching upwards for the first time in a while. “It was nothing I wanted and I didn’t realize it until I was about to walk down the aisle.”
“Do you love the guy?”
“If I do, it’s not enough to let him go through with marrying me,” she answered after a moment of thought. She tugged on the skirt of the dress, pushing it away so that it wasn’t crowding him. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You look like you’ve been to hell and back.”
“Perceptive,” he replied, with a hint of mirth in his voice. The rest was serious. “Guess we both don’t have the best of luck.”
“Guess not,” Chloe agreed.
Dean changed the subject quickly. “So, were you admiring the ivy earlier?”
She shook her head negatively. “I was debating on whether or not to climb the trellis.”
“You’re kidding. In that?”
Chloe shrugged her shoulders. “Nan doesn’t hide a spare key outside anymore and that window was open…”
He knew the one she was talking about. He used to climb through it.
“Got a hairpin?” Dean asked as he stood, heading for the back door.
“Of course I do,” Chloe responded, as if the answer were obvious. She had just come from a major life event for a female that required getting one’s hair done.
“How am I supposed to know?” He retorted, accepting the pin she had just pulled from her hair that had once been holding her veil in place until she ripped the offending head piece off. As he set to work on the lock, he looked back at her. “What the hell else you got hiding in that dress?”
“Ha ha.”
She folded her arms across her chest, not believing how crazy this day had truly become. She had started the day with every intention of marrying Jimmy Olsen, froze, and ran off. And she ran into Dean Winchester, of all the people in the world. The boy who had given her her first kiss and she fake married when she was eleven to shut that little brat down the street up.
And yet, she wouldn’t change it for anything.
He jiggled the lock open and the two stepped into her grandmother’s kitchen. Nothing had changed much and it felt as if they were stepping into a time warp. Except, there were no fresh goodies on the counter ready for them to eat and there was no faint odor of cigarette smoke from the poker games her grandmother played with some of the neighborhood women.
Chloe went to the phone and called her grandmother, informing her of where she was. Her grandmother promised she wouldn’t say anything to the others and told Chloe what she was doing was for the best. Chloe nearly laughed. Her grandmother was wary from Jimmy from their first meeting - something about shouting and treating her like an invalid when she was in better shape than he was. Of course her grandmother would be in favor of Chloe’s runaway routine.
She hung up the phone, going to see where Dean had ventured off to. He was in the living room, looking at pictures.
“I should go,” he said, voice detached. He hadn’t planned on coming at all, let alone running into her.
“Thanks for…helping me break into my grandmother’s house,” she said with a slight laugh at how ridiculous it sounded.
“No problem.”
He was halfway to the door when she called his name. Dean stopped, turning to face her.
“This is really awkward but…” she began, deliberately avoiding his eyes. “Could you help me out of this dress?” She cleared her throat, displaying her discomfort. “It’s just…there’s too many buttons in the back. There’s no way I’d be able to get it off myself.”
He sighed, looking at her form before relenting. He crossed the room, calloused fingers going to the delicate buttons on the back of the dress. Chloe closed her eyes, waiting patiently for Dean to get her out of the suffocating mass of fabric.
“Christ, you’d think they’d make these things for quick removal.”
Chloe snorted in laughter. A moment later, she felt a tear fall from her eye. She took a steadying breath. This was wrong. Jimmy was supposed to be removing the dress. But she didn’t want him to. She would rather it be with Dean, as warped as it was.
It was the last remnant of that would-be marriage she had with her. Her engagement ring had been left on Jimmy’s bedside table.
She just wanted the stupid thing off. Now.
“Dean, just rip it.”
“What?”
“Rip it, cut it…bite it off with your teeth, I just….I need it off…”
She needed to be done.
He ripped the back, ivory buttons popping off the hooks and spilling onto the floor.
She turned, meeting his eyes. Chloe did not know what drove her to her next action, but the next thing she knew, she was kissing him.
She was confused. He was dealing with demons she did not know about. Both were running on adrenaline and misplaced emotions.
And once his leather jacket hit the floor next to her ruined wedding dress, she knew there was no going back.
Lips locked and hands groping, the two hurried upstairs, finding their way in the dark. If they were in a different place, they probably would not have made the effort and just made do with where they were. But this was her grandmother’s house - a place where they played in childhood. It would be too awkward.
“It’s not a good idea to get involved with me.”
His breath was hot against her ear as she undid the zipper on his jeans. They stumbled into the guest room together, not bothering to slow their movements.
“I just ran out on my own wedding,” Chloe pointed out breathlessly. She pushed the jeans down, Dean kicking them off the rest of the way. “I should be saying that to you.”
His mouth connected with hers once more. The back of her knees hit the mattress of the bed in the guest room and she fell back, bringing him along with her.
He hovered above her, gold medallion hanging between them. His eyes met hers, looking for reassurance: “You sure you’re not married?”
“What? Do you want it written in blood?”
He would be gone in the morning when she woke up. She doubted she would ever see him again.
But for one night, they gave each other the freedom from the world they both needed - a no strings attached release.
It was easier for them to leave. He packed the boys in the car and drove for part of the night. Despite his need for space from their old home, he could not go too far. Something had happened in their house that night. And he had to find out what happened. For Mary.
They traveled around for weeks, going around from motel to motel. It went on this way for a few years as John searched for meaning to that night with Missouri Moseley’s guidance.
Dean was fifteen when they settled in Wichita. The duplex offered a roof over their heads at a reasonable price. Dean and Sam had their own room and the place was close enough to the local schools should they end up staying through the summer into September, though the chance of that happening was slim.
Chloe Sullivan stayed with her grandmother that summer. It was tradition ever since the first summer after her mom left. Nana had been more than happy to have her granddaughter to the house for the summer months, letting her run and be happy - to act like a kid.
Chloe had met Sam and Dean that summer. They hit it off right away, being strangers in the neighborhood and therefore outside of the cliques that dominated the others their age.
Though she was closer in age to Sam, that summer Chloe had her first kiss with Dean. The two had been roped into a faux wedding ceremony by one of the little girls in the neighborhood whom she had been forced to entertain while her grandmother babysat the girl. Dean had been ready to shoot himself in the face. Chloe would have rather been anyplace else in the world.
---
Chloe didn’t know why she started thinking of that summer day in the cramped backyard of her grandmother’s house, nearly fifteen years later. On today of all days, when she was supposed to be getting married.
Married.
The word sounded foreign on her tongue. Along with the words fiancé, wife, husband, potpourri, she felt like everyone around her had been speaking a completely different language these last couple months. Not that she had been hearing it much. She had been there, but she wasn’t there.
Work kept her occupied. Her focus was on the different activities going on rather than the actual wedding planning. Jimmy’s mother had been more than happy to do most of it. Chloe had chosen her dress and the colors. That had been her contribution to this charade.
And now, she was here. The wedding march had started. She was in the dress that was hard to breathe in, clutching a bouquet of roses. Chloe preferred tulips. Her father was standing beside her, ready to give her away.
Such an antiquated ritual, but it made her father happy.
One look at Jimmy’s grin made the realization sink in.
He had no idea who he was marrying. No idea that the girl he was about to marry was secretly Watchtower, communications expert, den mother, and public relations guru of the Justice League.
A girl who didn’t know what she wanted to do with herself.
A girl that did not want to settle down in a four-bedroom house out in the country with 2.5 kids and a picket fence. She never wanted to drive a minivan.
She did not want to be the woman that Jimmy wanted her to be.
She was a Mary Tyler Moore or Murphy Brown.
Jimmy wanted a June Cleaver or Donna Reed.
It was time to stop kidding herself.
She couldn’t do this.
The twisting in her gut made her halt her procession. She was going to be sick. Her father looked at her, concern etched on his features. A knowing look appeared in his eye as he realized that his daughter had made her choice. Better late than never. His grip loosened on her arm.
Thanks, Dad.
---
She had run. Hailing a cab in front of the church, Chloe ignored Lois’ protests for her to stop. After a quick stop at her - no, Jimmy’s apartment, she set out on the road.
There was no where she intended to go. She just wanted to be away. Once on the highway and well on her way out of Metropolis, she shed the veil and tossed out of the window.
She would go back, eventually if she wanted to, but not to Jimmy.
Chloe knew he probably never would forgive her, but she would never have been able to forgive herself for going through with it. She was just saving them the legal fees a couple years in advance.
Exhaustion began to take its toll and soon she was having trouble keeping her eyes open. She realized her grandmother’s exit was just up ahead, but she knew the woman was not going to be home. She was back in Metropolis, staying with Chloe’s father, having been there to witness her granddaughter getting married.
Chloe found the old house easily though it had been years since she had been in town. The neighborhood looked more run down than she remembered, but it still held the quaint homey feel that Chloe always associated with summer.
Parking in the street, Chloe got out of the car and remembered it had been a lot easier maneuvering in the dress when she had been driven by adrenaline just a few hours ago. Her heels clicked on the cracked pavement as she walked up the driveway towards the fence to the backyard.
Her eyes scanned the trellis running up the side of the back porch. Dean and Sam used to use it to get into her room, usually to play pranks or just to come bother her long after the streetlights had dimmed. Maybe she could get up there, despite being weighed down in fabric and tulle.
Chloe was considering her options on how to get inside when she heard the sound of gravel crunching under foot. Her eyes widened as she turned to look around the back yard.
“Clark?” She asked, knowing he would be the only one who would be able to get to her this quickly and know where she was. Bart would be her second guess.
“Nice dress.” A man stepped out of the shadows of the yard, hands in the pockets of his leather coat. He walked closer to her, stepping into the light. If she hadn’t run into him a couple of years ago in Dallas, she would have never recognized Dean Winchester.
He looked worn, tired. Much more troubled than the last time she had seen him. The ever mysterious Winchesters was one story she never could figure out. Their mom had died when they were young and that’s when John’s nomadic tendencies began. She could only assume that Sam and Dean had followed in his footsteps.
“What are you doing here?” Chloe asked curiously, mouth slightly agape in surprise. If she was a betting woman, she never would have put money on the odds that she would run into Dean Winchester in her grandmother’s backyard in Wichita again.
“I was in the neighborhood,” He shrugged. “Thought I’d stop by and see the old place.”
Chloe would never know he was in Wichita on a hunt and that he had been squatting in the now empty duplex after having a run in with the local police department. Sam was at the motel, but Dean thought it would be safer to steer clear of them for a while.
Her brow furrowed suspiciously. “You were only here six months.” He couldn’t really miss this place that much, could he?
“Longest I’ve ever stayed in one place,” Dean answered. His eyes scanned the ivory dress. “You look -”
“Like I could use a drink?” Chloe offered, tucking a windblown curl behind her ear. She wiped under her eyes, knowing her make-up had probably run after hours on the road and the few tears she had shed. Tears of relief, not sadness.
“Mrs. Johnson told me your grandmother had gone to your wedding this weekend.” He had run into her while stocking up on salt to encircle his sleeping bag in. The old busy-body recognized him, even after all these years.
Chloe sighed. “It was supposed to be today.” She sat down on the patio wall, not caring if the back of her dress got dirty. The memories that were supposed to come with this dress were not there. It was just an expensive dress that she wore for a day.
“Supposed to?”
“I ran.” As if wearing a wedding dress was not enough proof. She felt him sit down on the wall next to her. “I panicked.”
“Survival instinct,” Dean corrected wisely. “You’re too young for that marriage bullshit anyway.”
She laughed, corners of her mouth twitching upwards for the first time in a while. “It was nothing I wanted and I didn’t realize it until I was about to walk down the aisle.”
“Do you love the guy?”
“If I do, it’s not enough to let him go through with marrying me,” she answered after a moment of thought. She tugged on the skirt of the dress, pushing it away so that it wasn’t crowding him. “What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You look like you’ve been to hell and back.”
“Perceptive,” he replied, with a hint of mirth in his voice. The rest was serious. “Guess we both don’t have the best of luck.”
“Guess not,” Chloe agreed.
Dean changed the subject quickly. “So, were you admiring the ivy earlier?”
She shook her head negatively. “I was debating on whether or not to climb the trellis.”
“You’re kidding. In that?”
Chloe shrugged her shoulders. “Nan doesn’t hide a spare key outside anymore and that window was open…”
He knew the one she was talking about. He used to climb through it.
“Got a hairpin?” Dean asked as he stood, heading for the back door.
“Of course I do,” Chloe responded, as if the answer were obvious. She had just come from a major life event for a female that required getting one’s hair done.
“How am I supposed to know?” He retorted, accepting the pin she had just pulled from her hair that had once been holding her veil in place until she ripped the offending head piece off. As he set to work on the lock, he looked back at her. “What the hell else you got hiding in that dress?”
“Ha ha.”
She folded her arms across her chest, not believing how crazy this day had truly become. She had started the day with every intention of marrying Jimmy Olsen, froze, and ran off. And she ran into Dean Winchester, of all the people in the world. The boy who had given her her first kiss and she fake married when she was eleven to shut that little brat down the street up.
And yet, she wouldn’t change it for anything.
He jiggled the lock open and the two stepped into her grandmother’s kitchen. Nothing had changed much and it felt as if they were stepping into a time warp. Except, there were no fresh goodies on the counter ready for them to eat and there was no faint odor of cigarette smoke from the poker games her grandmother played with some of the neighborhood women.
Chloe went to the phone and called her grandmother, informing her of where she was. Her grandmother promised she wouldn’t say anything to the others and told Chloe what she was doing was for the best. Chloe nearly laughed. Her grandmother was wary from Jimmy from their first meeting - something about shouting and treating her like an invalid when she was in better shape than he was. Of course her grandmother would be in favor of Chloe’s runaway routine.
She hung up the phone, going to see where Dean had ventured off to. He was in the living room, looking at pictures.
“I should go,” he said, voice detached. He hadn’t planned on coming at all, let alone running into her.
“Thanks for…helping me break into my grandmother’s house,” she said with a slight laugh at how ridiculous it sounded.
“No problem.”
He was halfway to the door when she called his name. Dean stopped, turning to face her.
“This is really awkward but…” she began, deliberately avoiding his eyes. “Could you help me out of this dress?” She cleared her throat, displaying her discomfort. “It’s just…there’s too many buttons in the back. There’s no way I’d be able to get it off myself.”
He sighed, looking at her form before relenting. He crossed the room, calloused fingers going to the delicate buttons on the back of the dress. Chloe closed her eyes, waiting patiently for Dean to get her out of the suffocating mass of fabric.
“Christ, you’d think they’d make these things for quick removal.”
Chloe snorted in laughter. A moment later, she felt a tear fall from her eye. She took a steadying breath. This was wrong. Jimmy was supposed to be removing the dress. But she didn’t want him to. She would rather it be with Dean, as warped as it was.
It was the last remnant of that would-be marriage she had with her. Her engagement ring had been left on Jimmy’s bedside table.
She just wanted the stupid thing off. Now.
“Dean, just rip it.”
“What?”
“Rip it, cut it…bite it off with your teeth, I just….I need it off…”
She needed to be done.
He ripped the back, ivory buttons popping off the hooks and spilling onto the floor.
She turned, meeting his eyes. Chloe did not know what drove her to her next action, but the next thing she knew, she was kissing him.
She was confused. He was dealing with demons she did not know about. Both were running on adrenaline and misplaced emotions.
And once his leather jacket hit the floor next to her ruined wedding dress, she knew there was no going back.
Lips locked and hands groping, the two hurried upstairs, finding their way in the dark. If they were in a different place, they probably would not have made the effort and just made do with where they were. But this was her grandmother’s house - a place where they played in childhood. It would be too awkward.
“It’s not a good idea to get involved with me.”
His breath was hot against her ear as she undid the zipper on his jeans. They stumbled into the guest room together, not bothering to slow their movements.
“I just ran out on my own wedding,” Chloe pointed out breathlessly. She pushed the jeans down, Dean kicking them off the rest of the way. “I should be saying that to you.”
His mouth connected with hers once more. The back of her knees hit the mattress of the bed in the guest room and she fell back, bringing him along with her.
He hovered above her, gold medallion hanging between them. His eyes met hers, looking for reassurance: “You sure you’re not married?”
“What? Do you want it written in blood?”
He would be gone in the morning when she woke up. She doubted she would ever see him again.
But for one night, they gave each other the freedom from the world they both needed - a no strings attached release.