Part IX
Sam expected Dean to release him as their eyes met. He didn't. Sam's voice was whisper-soft and cautious. "Okay."
Dean looked relieved, but remained uncertain. Sam was hyper-aware of the firm but gentle grip Dean had on his wrist.
"Is everything all right?" Sam asked.
"Yeah,” Dean responded unconvincingly. "Sure, I just, I..."
Sam's expression softened as Dean trailed off. Dean had never done well when asking for something that made him feel vulnerable.
"What is it, Dean?" Sam asked in such a gentle tone that it seemed to catch Dean off-guard. His brother's head tilted, eyes searching Sam's face for such a long moment that Sam almost stopped breathing.
"I..." Dean's need to ask finally overrode his discomfort at doing so. "I want you to meet someone."
Surprised and a little relieved at the simple request, Sam was quick to respond with, "Sure." Curious about the hesitancy he couldn't help but wonder, "Who?"
Dean looked him in the eye for a full minute before responding. "My wife." He took Sam's surprised expression in stride, seemingly gaining courage as he went. "I'd like you to meet Jenna."
"Ah..." Sam faltered, speechless, so afraid he would say the wrong thing and Dean would either bolt or change the subject so quickly his head would be left spinning.
Instead, Dean released him and retrieved the box Liv had given him the Sunday before. He sat down and placed the box on the coffee table. Sam sat down across from him. Both stared at the box.
"What's this?" Sam finally asked, though Dean's request had given him some idea of what was in the box. His brother's recent reticent behavior suddenly made much more sense.
When Dean didn't verbally respond Sam asked, "May I?"
At Dean's nod he opened the small lavender box. He tipped it slightly and let the three DVDs slide into his hand, one for each year Dean and Jenna had spent together. Sam swallowed at some of the comments he read on each disk, written in Liv's distinctive, neat handwriting. So this is what she was talking about when we had coffee that night.
"Have you...?" Sam gestured towards the DVD player with the disks in his hand.
Dean shook his head, eyes downcast. "I couldn't even open the box."
Sam nodded. Waiting. Understanding a little better why Dean needed him to stay. "Do you want me to...?" Dean's eyes flew to his as he moved to rise. Sam saw the hesitation there, the I don't know if I'm ready in his brother's wide-eyed, emerald gaze. Sam patiently rode it out, using his own steady gaze to bolster and encourage, to convey just how touched he was to be there for Dean, and his desire to help in any way.
It seemed to help. The tense set of Dean's shoulders eased. There was gratitude in his gaze as he gave Sam a small nod of assent.
Sam placed the first disk into the player and took a deep breath. Picking up the remote, he made is way back to the couch, giving Dean's shoulder a squeeze of support on his way past. He sat opposite his brother, but further back, out of Dean’s direct line of sight. From here he could watch both the screen and Dean and be unobtrusive.
Thankfully, there was only the one universal remote for the DVD player and the television and it looked pretty straightforward to operate. Sam hit ‘Play’ as soon as the prompt appeared on the screen, noticing that Dean's eyes were closed. Liv's voice suddenly filled the room as an expanse of white silk and sequins filled the screen.
"You need some help in there, honey?" Liv asked from behind the camera as she panned around an oversized dressing room. Sam caught sight of her reflection in the floor-to-ceiling mirrors that ran the full length of one wall. A dozen or so wedding gowns of various styles and designs hung at intervals around the well-lit, beige colored room.
There was a small sigh from the other side of the changing room door. Dean's eyes opened, fastening on the 32" screen before him.
“There's too many little buttons. I can't reach them all,” Jenna responded. Sam heard the rustling of fabric on screen and the catch in Dean’s breathing as the door opened.
Liv gasped as Jenna emerged. "Oh, sweetheart," she said with tears in her voice, "you look beautiful."
Sam had to agree and was forced to acknowledge that perhaps his initial, less than flattering opinion, of his brother’s wife was more jealousy on his part than anything to do with Jenna. The few pictures he'd seen simply did not do Jenna justice. She had a natural beauty that reminded him of Jess, but that was where any similarity ended. Jenna was smaller in both height and build. Her hair was shorter, golden with large curls that framed a lovely heart-shaped face wearing very little make up. The smile and the sparkle in her eyes brought her to life in a way no two dimensional picture ever could.
A saleswoman appeared out of nowhere and did up the remaining pearly buttons that Jenna hadn't been able to reach. Jenna looked surprised, but pleased by the emotion she heard in Liv's voice. Self consciously, she smoothed the front of the dress.
"You don't think it's too much?" Jenna asked as she stepped up onto the circular dais positioned in the center of the room, the focal point to which every mirror was angled.
Liv's eyes slid over the dress, considering. "It is a tad excessive," she said carefully.
Sam had to agree. With a high collar, puffy sleeves and intricate bodice design it looked uncomfortable and stuffy. It just didn't seem to suit the woman inside.
"But if you like it, darling..." Liv was quick to add.
"It's not quite what I had in mind," Jenna interrupted thoughtfully, twisting to see the back of the dress in the mirror.
"I thought you didn't know what you had in mind," Liv commented.
"I don't. Not exactly." She turned to face her mother and said with confidence, “I'll know it when I see it." Jenna’s lips curled into a cheeky grin.
For the next half hour, Sam watched as Jenna tried on dress after dress that failed to meet whatever standards she had in mind. Her obvious enthusiasm began to wane by dress number eight and she was beginning to look a bit discouraged.
"Perhaps if you can give me some general idea of what you have in mind, dear?" the saleswoman asked with infinite patience, appearing again and again when her assistance was needed.
Jenna looked at herself in the mirror for a long moment before answering with more certainty, vague ideas now giving way to more specific details.
"Something a little more simple, but elegant,” Jenna said decisively. “No beads or ruffles or buttons.”
The saleswoman nodded, considering, but required more information. "Tell me, dear, what is your groom's preference?"
Jenna looked confused. "Excuse me?"
"Your groom." The older lady reiterated. "Is he a leg man? Or does he prefer a little cleavage? A bare back perhaps?"
"What?" Jenna laughed and it filled the room. Sam felt more than heard Dean swallow.
"Most men have a preference, no matter how subtle. Some love a slender length of leg, the smooth curve of a shoulder, the full firmness of breasts..."
Sam noticed the sparkle had returned to Jenna's eyes and had to silently applaud the saleswoman.
"What does your groom prefer my dear?"
"Well," Jenna said with a grin that somehow managed to be as lewd as it was sweet, "MY groom appreciates all that the female form has to offer."
Sam was finding his sister-in-law positively charming and almost chuckled in response.
"Oh, Jenna," Liv said, full of exasperated affection.
"Oh, mother,” Jenna responded in a no one likes a prude tone.
Then as if some sudden memory surfaced, Jenna paused. She turned back to the saleswoman, the tips of her fingers caressing her throat.
"My neck,” Jenna said with dawning realization. "He loves my neck."
Sam watched as Jenna's right shoulder rose, head tilting in the same direction with a small shudder - as if she could feel phantom lips caressing smooth skin.
The saleswoman gave a nod. That was something she could work with. She spoke over her shoulder as she left the dressing room with purpose. "I have couple of strapless and off-the-shoulder gowns in your size."
Jenna looked pleased at the breakthrough in her dress hunt. She turned to Liv, a sudden look of wonder on her face. Then, as if she still couldn't believe it herself, she said, "I'm getting married, mama."
The camera tilted away, Liv wanting a full, unobstructed view of her daughter. Her voice was full of tenderness and love as she responded. "I know, baby. I know."
It was another twelve minutes of video and four dresses later that Jenna declared with excitement and certainty that she had found THE dress.
A blank blue screen flared to life for a two second interval on the television before an entirely different scene came into view. It was an abrupt shift in time that in all likelihood could not be helped.
The scene opened on a roomful of women, smiling and laughing, with Jenna at its center. Sam recognized a few of them from church. The steady, unmoving position of the camera indicated the use of a tripod. Jenna was half way through a pile of gifts consisting mostly of lingerie, heated massage oils and suggestive toys before Sam figured out that it was her bridal shower.
The slamming of a door and loud voices brought a surprised hush over the room as Dean and Rand strode in purposefully and then froze - like deer caught in the headlights. Sam shook his head, brows rising. Dean epitomized the term grease-monkey, smudged with oil and grime and wearing a look in his eye that said whatever repair he'd been working on had become personal. Sam noticed only peripherally that Rand was just as filthy.
There were times out of the blue when Dean's beauty would catch Sam completely off-guard. Surprisingly, this was one of them. His brother was covered in grease, wearing faded, torn denim and an army green t-shirt that brought out his eyes. He stood stock still, uncomfortable, and trying like hell not to show it. A muscle in his jaw jumped before a smooth smile spread like honey across his face and he took a step back.
Fair, freckled skin, sparkling gemstone eyes, and the flex of muscle beneath denim and cotton were more than enough to send a surge of sudden longing through Sam. Dean was attractive. Always had been. Yet there was no rhyme or reason to those indiscernible moments, such as this one, in which Sam was simply struck speechless by just how beautiful his brother was.
Sam wasn't the only one affected. He noticed the small group of women seemed divided in two - those charmed by Dean's mortified retreat, such as Liv and Tess, and those who looked willing and ready to devour him right along with the hors d'oeuvres like...pretty much everyone else in the room.
Jenna stood and went to him before he could withdraw completely. Whatever she said to him was too low for the microphone on the camcorder to pick up, but Sam saw Dean's eyes soften and his smile turn genuine. When Jenna rose to her toes and angled for a kiss, Dean obliged by dipping his head to meet her lips. It was obvious that he was expecting nothing more than a quick peck as was evidenced by the surprised upward sweep of arched brows as Jenna wrapped her arms around his neck and plunged in for a much deeper kiss.
Dean angled his body away from her, hands raised and hovering in an effort to spare her clothing the filthy state that had befallen his. When Jenna pressed closer, Dean quickly understood that such concerns were not an issue for his soon-to-be bride. Following Jenna's lead, Dean's arms enveloped her without hesitation, pulling her flush against him as he sank into the kiss with startling abandonment.
It was a claiming of territory, a stake of possession on Jenna's part. Everyone in the room saw it for what it was, but appeared to be enjoying the show regardless. Dean's strong, splayed hand settled in the small of Jenna's back, his jaw working slow and fluid, indicating a deep sweep of his tongue. It went on a tad longer than was appropriate and at a certain point Sam wondered if the two even remembered they were in a room full of people.
When they separated, it was to whistles and speculative, yet tactful comments from guests who had apparently had enough of being ignored. Dean and Jenna smiled at each other and shared another small kiss. She whispered something in his ear that, to Sam's amazement, actually had his brother blushing. At his most adorable when self-conscious and out of his element, Dean fidgeted, one hand going to the back of his neck - a sure sign of his discomfort to Sam. Despite that, it was just as obvious that Dean would stand his ground until Jenna gave him leave.
Finally taking pity on him, Jenna cupped the side of Dean's face, kissed him softly on the corner of his mouth and allowed him his retreat with a low-voiced, “Go on, get outta here.” Rand, who had wisely melted into the background until now, slapped a companionable hand on Dean's shoulder as they gladly fled the room, and the house as well, judging by the very noticeable sound of a slamming door seconds later. Guests who had quieted once again suddenly burst into laughter at the sound.
Jenna opened the remainder of her gifts, oblivious or uncaring of the black smudges that marred her right cheek and various parts of her attire.
When the blue screen flared again, Sam flicked his gaze to Dean to see how he was faring. In profile, his brother maintained a carefully neutral expression, but for eyes that were far too bright.
"Well? What do you think?"
Sam's attention was drawn back to the screen at the sound of Jenna's voice. The camera panned an empty room with hardwood floors and came to rest on Liv as she looked the decor over and walked into the adjacent kitchen and breezeway. Sam realized that Jenna was doing the filming. As the camera followed Liv, Sam suddenly recognized the layout of the home as the one he was currently sitting in. The rooms looked larger without any furniture.
"Do you like it, Mama?" Jenna asked again.
Liv walked a large circle around the kitchen, Jenna following as Liv nodded but gave no verbal response. The microphone picked up Jenna's impatient sigh and amplified it.
Mother and daughter walked through the entire house and then out to the front lawn. The For Sale sign remained in the front yard but had already been topped with a bold 'SOLD' sign. Liv paused to look at the house, hand shading her eyes against the sun.
"Well?" Jenna's exasperation at Liv's silence was growing.
"It's beautiful." Liv finally said.
The camera bounced around in a way that almost made Sam nauseous.
Jenna happily exclaimed, "It's perfect!"
Liv was contemplative. "I thought you’d decided on the Cape on Western Prom?"
"We did," Jenna said. "Then the realtor called and asked if we were interested in one final showing. And I don't know...Dean just fell in love with it."
Sam was reminded how similar the house looked to the one picture he'd seen of their home in Lawrence.
"But what about you, darling?" Liv asked. "Is it what you want?"
"Mama," Jenna said, the tone of her voice indicating that whatever she was about to say should be obvious. "If Dean’s happy, I'm happy."
It really was as simple and honest as that. Sam could hear it in Jenna's voice.
Liv smiled, recognizing the truth as well. With renewed enthusiasm she declared, "I love it."
They walked through the house again discussing color schemes and furniture styles before Jenna turned more serious.
She caught Liv completely off-guard with her quiet and heartfelt, "Thank you, Mama."
Taken aback, Liv asked, "For what?"
"For everything, the wedding...the honeymoon,” Jenna said. "For this. If you hadn't given us the $25,000 down payment, we wouldn't be able to afford this." Jenna looked around at the beautiful home that was soon to be hers.
"Your father and I put that money aside for just this purpose, honey." Liv said. "I'm just so happy that we did and that you found that special someone to spend your life with."
"I can't imagine spending it with anyone else,” Jenna said, heartfelt and so obviously in love. Then quietly, "I only wish Daddy were here. Do you think he would approve?"
"Of Dean?" Liv asked surprised. "Oh, honey, it's as if your father hand picked that boy from beyond the grave." With a small laugh she added, "The only thing those two love more than their cars...is you."
Jenna gave a tearful laugh from behind the camera. Sam noticed that Dean's eyes were beginning to reluctantly droop, the week's lack of sleep and the late hour finally catching up with him. Liv and Jenna completed their tour of the house and one final detail caught Sam's attention.
"When do you close?" Liv asked.
"We signed the papers yesterday but there's some snag with the dates. We won’t be able to move in until after we get back from our honeymoon,” Jenna answered. "I hope you don't mind putting us up for another couple of weeks..."
Liv looked into the camera and her daughter's eyes, her expression wry. "I think I’ll manage."
Fade to blue. Another shift in scene as Jenna was woken up by Liv with breakfast in bed on her wedding day. Jenna hadn't seen Dean since the night before and wouldn't until they met at the altar later in the afternoon. Sam could tell it was killing her. The camera catalogued stolen bits and pieces of the bride-to-be's day.
It was just past midnight when Dean finally allowed his head to ease back against the pillowed recliner, his eyes stubborn slits of olive.
Finally it was time. Sam was nearly as anxious as Jenna. Despite what he already knew, the thought of Dean standing at an altar that didn't involve rituals, blood sacrifices or black magic of some kind was totally blowing Sam's mind.
Liv transferred the camera to someone Sam couldn’t see. She reminded whoever it was that the battery was fully charged and handed them another as a spare. She gave very explicit directions to capture everything.
The music started and Liv disappeared. He saw the church full of guests first, recognized several faces from Sunday morning services. It all melted away as he got his first look at Dean.
It was a treat to see his brother in a tuxedo. He'd seen Dean in a suit before: once for a funeral and again for his senior prom. Both were secondhand and in no way did his brother justice. Handsome as Dean was on both of those occasions; he did not look comfortable and could not wait to shed the restrictive attire - though Sam suspected that the beautiful Lakyn Hodge had something to do with the second occasion.
The same could not be said for the event that Sam currently witnessed. Dean's tux was of the finest quality and was perfectly tailored to suit his brother’s build. The first thing Sam noticed was the absence of the slightly terrified look he expected to see on Dean's face.
Dean was happy, relaxed.
Calm.
Ready.
The second thing he noticed was Rand standing ready as best man. A position that by all rights belonged to him. Ridiculous as it was - Sam felt a pang of regret at that. Just the thought of standing witness to Dean's nuptials tore him apart, but he'd have done it. For Dean. If he had known.
Dean took a deep breath as the wedding march began, expectant gaze seeking his bride in anticipation. The camera did not pan to the bride as expected. Instead it captured the look on Dean's face as Jenna made her entrance.
Sam was unprepared for the unshuttered love that he saw on his brother’s face. He could see in Dean's eyes the moment he connected with Jenna and the peace and contentment that it evoked.
The hurt he felt at that love not being reserved for him alone sparked an ache in Sam's chest as deep as it was fleeting. It was tempered by the genuine affection he'd slowly developed for the woman who had made his brother whole again.
Jenna was nothing short of stunning. Her beautiful golden hair was swept up at the sides, a delicate ivory circlet adorning the crown of her head with a tumble of perfect curls and a sheer veil cascading down her back. The off-the-shoulder gown was every bit as elegant as the bride hoped it would be. Make up and jewels were a bare minimum and served only to enhance natural, God-given beauty.
Her gaze was for Dean alone. And Sam saw something in Jenna's eyes that curled its way around his heart and eased some of the pain, something that Dean so deserved and likely had not had in such unconditional abundance...since Mary.
It was as plain as day for Sam, and the entire church to see. Jenna didn't just love Dean. She absolutely adored him. In that moment, part of Sam fell in love with her as well.
The ceremony was surreal. Sam listened closely to every word, somewhat relieved when the bride and groom exchanged traditional vows. Witnessing the evidence of their love was one thing - having to hear, in their own words, how much they meant to one another would've been more than Sam could bear.
In the recliner across from him, Dean's battle against sleep was slowly losing ground after almost three hours of video. Sam watched as his head canted to one side, eyelids fluttering as he fought to remain awake. It wasn’t until the reception was well underway, an hour or so later, that his stubborn brother finally succumbed to his body's demand for sleep. Sam watched him for a long time - trying to reconcile the man he knew, both in the past and present, with the one he saw onscreen.
Jess had asked him to escort her to a wedding for one of her cousins shortly after they started dating and he'd seen enough movies here and there over the years as well to be familiar with the traditions that followed at the reception. The toast by the best man, the first dance, the cutting and sharing of the cake, the tossing of the bouquet, the tinkling of the glasses where the bride and groom were at the mercy of their guests. Sam watched Dean smile his way through each event and even seem to enjoy it - more so for the sake of his bride who was positively glowing through it all.
Without a doubt, Sam's favorite part was Dean and Jenna's first dance as husband and wife. Jenna tugged his brother to the edge of the dance floor where she paused. Dean watched her curiously with a small trusting smile as she pushed the jacket off his shoulders and maneuvered around behind him to remove it completely. She handed it off to the nearest guest and circled back in front of him where she loosened and removed his tie, unbuttoning the top two buttons of his shirt as she looked up at him lovingly.
Dean's smile grew as Jenna reached up on her tip toes to run her fingers through his hair until his customary spikes were in place. The part of Sam that hadn't fallen in love with her at the wedding was now completely lost. Jenna kicked her shoes off to the side and held her hand out to his brother. Dean bypassed the hand, arms circling her waist and surprised her with a spontaneous and intense kiss, as if he just that second remembered how very much he loved her.
Without breaking the kiss he picked her up and twirled her carefully on to the dance floor to the whistles and applause of their charmed guests. The pair was so much in love that their joy was infectious. Sam shook his head in amazement and couldn’t help but look over at his slumbering sibling.
The blue screen flared to life again, lingering long enough to give Sam the impression that footage had ended for this particular DVD. He was just about to hit the eject button and pull it when a door came into view. Sam recognized Liv's living room and the main entrance in which she had the camera trained. She pulled the focus back, zooming out for a wide angle. Sam heard faint activity on the other side of the door. Liv passed in front of the camera to look out the window, and excited, she hurried to the door.
"Welcome Home!" Her arms were open and around Jenna before the young woman could get in the door all the way.
"Oh, Mama!" Jenna set down her bag and returned the hug enthusiastically. "It was beautiful! Did you get the postcard we sent?"
"Not yet, honey,” Liv said. When Jenna looked slightly disappointed she added, "I'm sure it will be here soon."
"Where's Dean?" Liv asked when Jenna looked out into the yard and didn't move from the door.
"Right behind me," Jenna assured her. "Give him just a sec, okay? The return flight was a little...rough."
"Okay,” Liv agreed. "Well, let me take your bag. Are you hungry? I made some sandwiches just in case."
"Maybe later." Jenna was distracted as she looked out the door, presumably to check on Dean again, tacking on a delayed, "But thank you."
Liv puttered around both in front of and behind the camera while Jenna stood at the door waiting. After a few moments, the concerned expression on Jenna's face was replaced with a smile. She opened the screen door for Dean and took his arm as he entered.
"Hey, you," Liv said softly, glancing at Jenna in concern before kissing Dean on the cheek.
Sam mirrored Liv's concern. While Jenna was golden and glowing from wherever the couple had honeymooned, Dean's color was completely washed out and he looked like he was going to throw up.
"Why don't you sit down, honey,” Liv suggested. "Can I get you anything?"
Dean chuckled carefully. "Look that bad, do I?"
"He's fine, Mama," Jenna interjected, pressing close to Dean's side. "Nothing a little rest won’t cure."
Liv just nodded, clearly not wanting to interfere in any way.
"As a matter of fact," Jenna looked up at Dean, "I'm pooped. I thought we'd curl up together and take a nice long nap. We'll worry about the luggage later."
Dean smiled more with his eyes than his mouth. His arm slipped around Jenna's waist. "Sounds good, Mrs. Matthews."
"Sounds damn good, Mr. Matthews,” Jenna returned playfully.
Sam watched Dean take a couple of steps and then pause with a low groan, one hand coming reflexively to his head. Jenna's entire demeanor changed. In that instant, Sam saw the nurse in her take over.
"Dean." Jenna stepped in front of her husband, facing him. "Look at me, honey."
Dean tried to comply.
"Come on, honey,” Jenna encouraged with an edge of urgency. "Let me see your eyes."
Dean's features tightened, eyes clamped shut, his other hand coming up to cradle his head.
"Mama," Jenna's free hand waved in Liv's general direction, "I need my purse…now! Hurry!"
Liv hurried out of sight of the apparently forgotten camera just as Dean's knees gave out. Jenna went down with him, hands on his shoulders to steady him.
"Okay, baby. Okay." Jenna kept a constant litany of soft encouragement. "Hold on. It's okay. Just hold on."
Sam was sitting up, leaning toward the screen, even as his eyes flickered to Dean sleeping quietly across from him. Onscreen, his brother doubled over in pain, muscles rock hard and straining, breathing harsh and erratic.
Jenna's hand was on the back of Dean's neck, while his hands were fisted, white-knuckled in her skirt. A sound that may have been a small sob escaped him and had Jenna covering his ears and very nearly screaming, "Mother!"
"Here." Liv came rushing back into the room and dropped to the floor next to them.
Jenna unzipped her purse with one hand and dumped the contents out onto the floor. Snatching one of the three prescription bottles that spilled free, she had it open and was coaxing the medication into Dean's mouth within seconds.
"That's it. You're okay." Her touch was steady, as if the smallest movement would exacerbate Dean's pain. "Give it time to work, baby. You're okay."
Liv and Jenna sat in tense silence waiting it out, both noticeably affected by the hitches in Dean's breathing and the small occasional whimpers over which he had no control.
Eventually his hands loosened, clenching and unclenching in Jenna's skirt. He wasn’t out of the woods yet, but his body was beginning to slowly relax. Jenna stroked the nape of his neck, eyes closing in relief. When Dean released a long shaky breath, Jenna grabbed a throw pillow from the couch and encouraged him to move to a more comfortable position. A partial crawl and his arms circled her waist like a lifeline as he buried his face in the pillow on her lap.
"It's okay." Jenna's hand stroked over the curve of Dean's shoulder but her eyes met Liv's. "It's okay."
Liv didn't look entirely convinced but she nodded. Picking up Jenna's purse, she put everything back inside, but left it within reach. Rising to her feet, she quietly left the room.
Jenna continued to stroke Dean’s hair. "This one wasn't bad at all."
Sam was incredulous. It looked pretty damn bad to him and also pretty damn scary.
"I'm sorry," Jenna looked down at Dean. "I should have paid closer attention."
The muscles of Dean's arms flexed as he tightened his embrace, offering comfort the only way he could, though it appeared he was only barely clinging to consciousness.
"It's okay,” Jenna soothed. "Sleep, baby. I'll be here when you wake up."
Less than a minute later, Dean was out, breathing deep and even.
Liv reappeared moments later carrying two mugs. She set them on the end table and retrieved a throw from the back of the sofa that she used to gently cover Dean before joining them on the floor.
"Chocolate silk, your favorite." Liv handed her daughter the oversized cup of coffee which Jenna took gratefully, though she angled her upper body away from Dean as a safety measure as she took her first sip.
Liv gave her time to enjoy the beverage before carefully breaking the silence. "Did this happen while you were gone?"
"No,” Jenna answered softly. "But flying seems to be an issue. We had some turbulence on the return flight and an unexpected lay over...it caused some additional stress that I hadn't anticipated."
"You couldn't have known, honey." Liv comforted.
"I know,” Jenna said, but it obviously didn't make her feel any better. She ran the back of her fingers along Dean's jaw. "It's just...he counts on me, Mama. I should have dosed him earlier. It would have helped with the pain."
Liv nodded. There wasn’t a lot she could say to that. They both watched Dean sleep for a bit.
"So," Liv interrupted the silence, her voice low but light, "how was the honeymoon?" she asked.
Sam smiled at the instant transformation that took place on Jenna's face at the distraction. He listened as she quietly detailed their tropical paradise and tried to imagine his brother in a pair of low-slung Bermuda shorts and sun-kissed, freckled skin. The newlyweds snorkeled, rode horses on the beach and made love beneath a sparkling velvet sky and pale moon. Thankfully Jenna didn't share a lot of details on that last one, but for one.
“We got sand in places you don't even want to know about...”
-wWw-
It was nearly 3:00 am when Sam settled on the floor in front of Dean. The DVDs had been placed carefully back in their box and the television was off. Dean hadn't moved. Sam was pretty sure his neck was going to be stiff when he did wake up. He placed a hand on Dean's thigh, just above his knee.
"Dean, hey." Sam squeezed gently, his voice quiet. "Wake up, man."
Dean roused slowly, blinking at Sam for a long moment before really seeing him. "Hey." Dean’s voice was low and rough, he looked around them room. "What time is it?"
"It's late." Sam let his hand linger. Dean didn't seem to notice. "Why don't you go up to bed,” Sam suggested. "I'll see myself out."
Dean nodded but didn't move and Sam wondered if his words had even penetrated. Tired eyes slowly drifted shut once again. Sam smiled softly, thumb caressing the worn denim beneath his fingertips. He was tempted to cover his brother with a throw, but knew that he'd get a better night's sleep in his own bed.
"Dean." Sam raised his voice and Dean startled.
"What?" Dean sat up straight and ran a hand over his face. "I'm up."
"I'm gonna head out, man. Get some sleep." Sam rose, stepping back to allow Dean space to do the same. "I'll see you in the morning."
Dean checked his watch, eyes widening at the hour. He shook his head, still trying to clear away the cobwebs of sleep. "Yeah."
Sam wasn’t certain that Dean was even fully awake, but he was up and moving so he figured his brother could find his way to bed.
When Dean just stood there Sam snorted and gave in to brotherly impulse, wrapping his large hand around Dean's bicep and guiding him to the bottom of the stairs.
"I'll get the light and lock up on my way out." A biddable Dean brought out the affection in his voice. "Go to bed, Dean."
Sam was already turning to leave when Dean grabbed his arm. "Stay." The emotion behind the word was different from earlier. Sam could see that Dean didn't necessarily understand why he desired Sam's proximity, but clearly he did. "It's late,” Dean continued, releasing him. "Why don't you crash in the spare room? I'll treat you and Izzy B to breakfast."
Sam hid his surprise at the unexpected development. His motel room was only two miles down the road, but hey, it was Dean's idea. There was absolutely no reason he could think of to refuse.
"Sure." Sam felt as though he'd passed a major threshold in this new friendship with his brother. "Thanks."
Dean locked up while Sam got the few lower level lights that were left on. They paused at Isabella's room and Sam leaned against the jamb, arms comfortably crossed, watching Dean adjust Izzy's blankets and smooth a tangle of curls back to kiss her on the forehead. A nightlight in the corner bathed the room in pale pink.
Spooky purred as Dean scratched behind his ears. Isabella stirred and curled towards the familiar presence of her father.
"Shhhhhhhhh." Dean's voice was ultra soft, barely audible.
It was enough to reassure her and the child settled almost immediately. Dean gazed down at her for so long that Sam found himself wishing he could see his brother's face. He kissed Isabella one more time before showing Sam to the guest room, leaving her door partially open.
The spare room was a little small, but comfortable enough and had an attached bathroom. Dean quietly disappeared as Sam stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt. Sam assumed that he'd gone to bed and was just about to crash himself when his brother reappeared with a neatly folded pair of sweats and a shirt.
“Here,” Dean said, “they may be a little snug but at least you won’t have to sleep in your clothes.”
"Thanks."
Dean nodded tiredly, hesitating as he left. Sam got the feeling he wanted to say something, but in the end he didn't. One hand on the doorframe, Dean paused on his way out, turning his head in profile.
"'Night, Sam."
His voice was tired and lonely, full of something Sam didn't even think Dean recognized or was capable of acknowledging at this point.
Sam wanted to wrap his arms around him, press warm lips to the back of his neck and hold him close until they both fell asleep.
Instead he said, "'Night, Dean."
Sam's plan to climb into bed and analyze all that he'd learned this evening fell by the wayside, not long after his head hit the pillow. He slipped into slumber wearing a small smile and his brother’s clothes.
Morning came too quickly, the hours between closing his eyes and opening them to early sunlight seeming almost instantaneous. Sam blinked up at the ceiling, too comfortable to move, until the uncanny sensation of being watched permeated his subconscious. He turned his head to the side and met two large, curious, grass green eyes.
"Hi." Sam was a little started by Isabella's presence and wondered how long she's been watching him.
"Hi," she said, staring at him openly. Then, "You snore." Isabella wrinkled her nose at him.
Sam's snort earned him a giggle. He must have been really tired. Isabella handed him two towels as he swung his legs over the side of the bed.
"Thank you." He could hear Dean moving about downstairs.
"Daddy's making pancakes for breakfast,” Sam was informed. Isabella's voice was sing-song and bright as the sun. His four hours of sleep to her ten was a marked contrast.
"He is?" Sam couldn't help but smile at her as she looked up at him guilelessly.
"Mmm, hmm." Isabella was dressed but her tumble of curls had yet to be tamed. "My daddy makes THE bestest pancakes,” she said proudly.
"Yeah,” Sam’s voice was wistful. "He does."
Isabella's innocent expression didn't change. Sam suddenly felt guilty for his deception.
"Well, I better hurry then." Sam stood with his towels as her cue to leave, but then went to one knee before her. "I wouldn't want to miss out on the bestest pancakes ever now would I?" He couldn't resist the tap of his finger against her button nose.
Sam watched her go, all bubbly energy and smiles. Dean's personal little ray of sunshine.
A hot shower did him wonders. He had no choice but to dress in his clothes from yesterday. Sam hung the towels over the shower rod to dry and made the bed before padding downstairs carrying his sneakers. He could hear Isabella and Dean talking in the kitchen as he approached. Sam hung back just listening and watching.
Dean was standing behind Isabella, combing out her hair. She was chattering away and Sam listened to her without really paying attention to what she was saying as he watched Dean. His hands were confident and gentle as he smoothed out each individual tangle and pulled the front of her golden tresses away from her face, pinning the hair in place on each side with lime green barrettes that matched her top and the tiny crocs on her feet. When Dean froze mid-air with the brush at the back of her head, Sam paid closer attention to their conversation.
"Why would you want to do that?" Dean asked carefully. Sam could tell he was very focused on whatever response Isabella may have had.
The child before him shrugged. Dean remained silent as he combed out the back of her hair.
"Why do you want to cut your hair, Izzy B?" He asked her again, softly but expecting an answer.
Surprised, Sam leaned forward a bit, curious as to the answer himself.
Isabella's sigh was too big for her small frame. She didn't want to answer, that much was clear. Dean waited.
"Tangie Berry says I have poodle hair,” Isabella admitted, petulance mixed with a touch of hurt. Sam could tell by the way Dean's nostrils flared that he picked up on it too. "She calls me Frizzy Izzy."
"Tangie Berry, huh?" Dean's voice was affronted on his daughter’s behalf. Sam wondered what was going to come out of his mouth. "That mousey little girl with the bowl cut?"
Isabella nodded on both accounts and Sam stifled a chuckle and shook his head. Dean finished combing out the back of her hair and then kneeled in front of her.
"Do you like your hair the way it is?" Dean asked her directly. When she nodded, Dean reached up to twirl a curl around his finger and settle it over her shoulder.
"Your mama had hair just like yours." Isabella's expression turned more solemn and Sam wondered how much of the emotion she understood in Dean's voice. "It's beautiful. Don't let anyone tell you any different."
Dean got to his feet and helped Isabella hop down from her stool. "Besides," he continued, “someday Tangie Berry is going to pay a lot of money to have hair just like yours. And you know what?"
"What?" Isabella was still holding his hand and looking up at him when Dean responded.
"It still won’t be as pretty as yours."
Isabella nodded with a damn straight look on her face, Dean's words bolstering her confidence to a startling degree. Dean tapped her on the bottom with the palm of his hand and said, "Now go get your backpack."
"Morning." Sam made his entrance and dropped onto the stool at the island next to Isabella's.
"Hey." Dean's smile was easy and warm. "How'd you sleep?"
"Like a rock." As a matter of fact Sam hadn't slept that heavily or well in a very long time. Whether it was true or not, he attributed it to being under the same roof as Dean.
"Help yourself to coffee." Dean pointed in the general direction of the coffeemaker and went back to his pancake batter.
Sam filled a mug and returned to the island to add sugar and creamer just as Isabella strolled back into the kitchen with her backpack.
She smiled at him like he was supposed to be there and it just felt so right that he was. "Hey there, Sunshine."
Isabella tipped her head at the name and Sam could tell she liked it. Dean had turned to watch the exchange, still mixing his batter. When Isabella attempted to climb into her seat Sam picked her up, helping thread her legs through the specialized booster seat. Dean set the batter aside to retrieve a sippy cup full of orange juice from the refrigerator for her.
When the mix was ready Dean checked the griddle then turned to his audience. "Any requests?"
Sam and Isabella both spoke at the same time.
"Blueberry."
"Chocolate chip."
They looked at each other. Sam was obviously willing to concede his request for hers but Dean had already moved on. "Blueberry chocolate chip it is."
Isabella seemed okay with it. Sam wasn’t so sure. He watched as Dean added a cup of blueberries to the batter and just a handful of mini chocolate chips.
Sam remembered when Dean was just learning to cook. Pancakes were one of his brother's first specialties, the plain white batter a blank canvas for Dean's culinary creativity. Sam's favorite was blueberry. When he was eight they'd spent the better part of a summer working a case in Cherryfield, Maine. Their motel was within walking distance of the blueberry fields and he and Dean had raked their way to some hard earned cash the old fashioned way. They also ate their weight in the sweetest blueberries Sam had ever tasted.
Still, that didn't stop Dean from trying to sway him with new creations. Dean's favorite, of course, was chocolate, chocolate chip - adding either chocolate syrup or Ovaltine to the mix for maximum chocolate overload. John's favorite was pumpkin chocolate chip, and Sam had to admit, those were pretty good. There were some misfires as well. Mint chocolate chip (notice the ongoing theme) and peanut butter-banana came to mind, but for the most part, he and John were always curious to see what Dean would come up with next. Dad even took to picking up various spices and ingredients when he went shopping just to see what Dean would do with them.
At Christmas, they had red and green pancakes. On Valentines Day they had red heart-shaped pancakes. Okay - so that only happened once. John had let a surprised snicker out at that one. Dean's 'What? It's Valentines Day!' sounded more defensive than indignant and John tried to backtrack, but the damage had already been done. They never had heart shaped pancakes again. Sam could tell Dad felt a little sad about that.
St. Patrick ’s Day was the obvious green shamrock shape and the standard red, white and blue for the Fourth of July. One Halloween they even had orange and black pancakes. Sam didn't even want to know how one made black pancakes. They'd tasted funny, too.
The first time he had pancakes in the dining hall at Stanford, there was such a lump in his throat that he ended up not being able to eat them at all.
"Here we go." Dean placed one pancake on Isabella's plate and a stack of four on Sam's. She looked up at her father, disappointed. When Dean winked at her, Isabella smiled. There was a fleeting sense of feeling the outsider again at their silent communication, but Sam let it go. In time he would learn every nuance of this side of his brother as well.
His first bite was a taste explosion of fresh blueberries and maple syrup. Oh, yeah. Even better than he remembered.
"Mmmph.” It was all he could manage. Dean didn't respond but Sam could feel the smile as he flipped his second batch of hotcakes.
Isabella was finishing her last bite when Dean returned with a special order that he slid onto her plate. Sam finally understood why she looked so disappointed with her first serving. He leaned over to get a better look.
"A teddy bear?" he asked. Isabella looked pleased as punch and immediately plucked out the chocolate chip eyes. She ate them one at a time before dousing the creation in so much maple syrup that Dean had to intervene.
"Grill's still open." Dean caught Sam checking out the teddy bear, his voice half-teasing as he continued. "Anything you want to special order?"
"Yeah," Sam answered softly. Dean was already turning away but paused to listen to Sam's request. "A dinosaur."
Dean turned his head, met Sam's gaze, searching for something he may have picked up in his voice. "Okay..." he nodded. Sam could tell he was a little surprised that his offer was taken seriously but was quite willing to comply. "A dinosaur it is."
Sam and Isabella shared a look, both extremely pleased with their special treats. Sam was nine the last time he'd made the request. At the time there was really only one prehistoric shape that his brother could do, but it had been pretty awesome.
Dean slid a brontosaurus with a blueberry eye onto Sam's plate as Liv pulled into the drive. Subtly, he waited for Sam's reaction. "Not too bad for a first try, huh?"
Again Sam could hear in Dean's voice that his brother really did care what he thought. It warmed him and a gentle smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "Perfect." He reinforced his words by taking a huge bite just as Liv entered through the breezeway.
"Good morning," she addressed them all with no notable surprise at Sam's early morning presence and then focused her attention on Isabella. "What's this? Daddy made his special pancakes and I wasn't invited?" She gave a mock pout.
Dean was removing the last batch of cakes from the griddle and half turned to her as she entered. "You're always invited," he said sincerely, leaning down so she could kiss his cheek. Liv moved to the island where she surveyed Bella’s sticky face and decided it was safer to kiss the top of her head. Then as if it were the most natural thing in the world she leaned over and with a hand on Sam's shoulder, and to his pleasant surprise, pulled him in for quick peck as well.
Dean sat down to eat as Sam and Isabella were just finishing and Liv helped herself to a pancake, eating it like a cookie while they discussed their plans for the morning. When Dean mentioned he was going to mow the lawn that afternoon, Liv said, “You may want to do that this morning, hon. The forecast is calling for scattered thunder showers all afternoon.” Sam and Dean looked out the window at the same time. The sun was currently shining
“Bella and I are going to go grocery shopping and run some errands,” Liv said as she wet a paper towel and cleaned the syrup from Isabella’s little face. “I’ll bring her by the garage around 12:30?”
“Sounds good,” Dean agreed around a mouthful of pancakes as he extracted Izzy from her seat. Placing her on the floor Dean knelt in front of her and gave a nod towards the bathroom. “Need to use the potty before you go?” he asked.
Apparently she thought about it for too long. Whatever look she saw on Dean’s face had her smiling sheepishly over her shoulder as she made her way to the bathroom.
Dean was rinsing out the batter bowl when Isabella appeared moments later. Aware of her presence he paused but purposefully didn’t turn as he asked, “Did you wash your hands?”
Isabella looked both irritated and guilty at the reminder. She turned on her heel and disappeared behind the door once again. Dean shook his head with an affectionate, “that’s what I thought,” as Sam and Liv shared an amused glance.
“Are we ready?” Liv asked when she reappeared.
Dean helped Isabella into her backpack, kneeling again for a kiss and a hug and a quick tickle that filled the kitchen with sweet young laughter. The corner of Dean’s eyes crinkled in delight and he pulled her into another hug at the sound.
Sam watched, completely unaware that the love he felt for both was written all over his face for anyone to see.
“Have fun with Gramma, Darlin’,” Dean said as they separated.
Liv took her granddaughter’s hand and they started towards the breezeway. Just before they reached the door Isabella paused and looked back with a wave, “Bye, Sam.”
“See you later, Sunshine,” he said, “have fun.”
Dean contemplated mowing the lawn before work but in the end decided to risk a race against the rain as it was nearing 8:30. Rand was already at the shop when they arrived. Saturday’s were pretty laid back. The garage was open to the public by appointment only and overall, it was a good catch up day. The light banter and easy companionship made the morning slide by all too quickly and before long it was noon and Tess was there to pick Rand up. Close to 1:00 pm and running late, Liv arrived with Isabella.
“Sorry we’re late,” she said, “I ran into Beth Parsons at the market. Did you know Neela Ford had a stroke two days ago?”
“No,” Dean looked startled, “I didn’t. Wow.”
Sam was just as shocked. Just a few short weeks ago he and the rest of the congregation had sang Happy Birthday to her. She had just turned thirty.
“She’s in the hospital in Millidge. No one seems to know how she’s doing. I’m going to take a trip to the city this afternoon and look in on her.”
Dean was still a little shell shocked but he pulled out his wallet and handed Liv some cash. “Would you mind picking her up some flowers at the gift shop? Just to let her know we’re thinking of her?” Sam was touched when the tilt of Dean’s head included him as well as Isabella.
“I think she’d like that.” Liv’s smile was warm. “Actually I have a few other errands I can do while I’m there. May as well make an afternoon out of it. I’ll see everyone at church tomorrow?” She asked with a glance that included Sam as well.
Once she had their assent, Liv gave Isabella a goodbye kiss and made her way back to her vehicle. They all watched her leave, waving as she pulled out of the lot.
Dean helped Isabella into her car seat in the back of the Impala while Sam waited. He knew that Saturday afternoon's were their time and he respected that. He was tired anyway and was looking forward to an early afternoon nap.
"So, I guess I'll see you tomorrow," Sam said when Dean was finished.
"Yeah," Dean agreed, but his voice sounded a little off to Sam. "Sure."
Sam didn't make a big deal out of it, figured Dean would get to it when he was ready. He nodded to his brother and leaned down to say goodbye to Isabella.
"Later, Sunshine."
Eyes sparkling, she laughed, thoroughly enjoying her new nickname.
He met Dean's gaze briefly before turning and heading to his car.
"Hey, Sam." Dean's head was lowered, but he looked Sam in the eye. "Thanks for last night. For staying."
Sam's reply was heartfelt. "Anytime, man. Anytime."
-wWw-
Through the cloudy haze of sleep, Sam turned away from his loudly ringing cell phone and buried deeper into his bedding. The chime of the call going to voicemail brought him closer to consciousness but he didn't move. When it started ringing again, it took seconds for it to permeate that it was ring tone he'd set for Dean. He scrambled for the phone on the bedside table, growling in frustration as it went to voicemail before he could flip it open.
"Come on. Try again." He stared at the phone in his hands willing it to ring. "Try again."
When it rang again, he didn't even pretend that he hadn't been sitting right on top of it. "Hello."
At first he didn't hear anything. And then very slow measured breathing. "Dean?"
Rustling. A hitch of breath, Dean's voice so low he had to strain to hear. "…S...am."
Part X