Sweet Sorrow
Title: Sweet Sorrow
Author: LaughtersMelody
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine, but I'm still not giving Dean back.
Genre: Angst/Tragedy/Future fic/AU/Character Death
Pairing: Leans towards Lisa/Dean
Type: One-shot
Spoilers: There are spoilers for "Appointment in Samara," and references to the episodes, "Exile on Main Street," "Two and a Half Men," "You Can't Handle The Truth," and "Mannequin 3: The Reckoning."
Characters: Lisa
Secondary Characters: Dean, Ben
Summary: Lisa had always hoped she'd see Dean again…just not like this.
A/N: This fic is an AU and it became even more AU once "Let it Bleed," aired. It takes place three years from the last time Dean saw Lisa and Ben in "Mannequin 3: The Reckoning," assuming for the sake of this fic, that he never saw them again after that point.
Dedicated to my dear friend, roselani24, for all of her wonderful encouragement and willingness to be a sounding board, and for allowing me to use an idea she had when were talking about where Supernatural might be heading. :D It's her idea that largely inspired this fic.
And as always, I thank my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. His mercy is incredible.
~*~*~*~*~
Sweet Sorrow
Lisa wakes up in the hospital.
Or, at least that's where she just suddenly is, and she can't remember where she'd been before that, but she had to wake up sometime between then and now, right? The fact that she doesn't actually remember waking up doesn't mean anything. She's probably just confused and doped-up on pain meds or something. After all, she's in a hospital, and she wasn't sick - she doesn't think so, anyway - so there must have been some kind of accident.
Worry makes her draw a sharp breath. Ben. Where is Ben? What if he was with her? Is he okay? Is he hurt? She wants nothing more than to run out of her room, stop the first doctor she sees, and demand to know where her son is. But, she has some medical training way back from her college days when she'd been enrolled in pre-med, and she knows that the best thing she can do right now is try to stay calm and wait for the doctors to come to her. If Ben is hurt, they don't need an hysterical mother distracting them. Still, she wishes there was a call button in here. It's weird that there's not, but maybe they just hadn't expected her to wake up so soon. Maybe she really should get up and look around, peek outside the curtain and let them know she's conscious. She doesn't think she'll have any trouble walking. She's not in any pain - but, then again, that could just mean that she's on some especially good drugs.
She swings her legs carefully over the edge of the bed, letting her feet dangle. The world doesn't tilt on it's axis, and she doesn't feel like she's going to throw up, so she keeps going, slipping off the bed until her feet hit the floor. She walks slowly, just because she doesn't want to take a nose-dive into the tile if she isn't as steady as she thinks, but she makes it the few feet to the curtain without any trouble.
She reaches up, ready to push the curtain aside, and-
"Hey, Lisa."
Lisa freezes at the subdued greeting, shock holding her firmly in place. She knows that voice. It's the voice she's missed so much it hurts, the voice she's tried so hard to forget, but has never quite been able to.
Dean.
She pulls back her hand, takes a deep breath, and turns around to face him, trying to pretend that she's not as lost as she is, because the gaping hole in her memory is still a gaping hole, and Dean's presence here only confuses her more. She folds her arms across her chest, feeling self-conscious. She has no idea what she looks like right now, but she was in an accident and laying in a hospital bed for who-knows-how-long, so she's probably a mess, and that's really not the impression she'd wanted to make when - if - she saw him again.
Dean, though, looks just like she remembers, even after three years; those same, dark, unfathomable, hazel eyes, and impossibly long lashes, the same military haircut, high cheek bones, and full lips. He's leaning against her hospital bed, watching her, his expression sad.
"Dean," she starts, hoping he won't notice the catch in her voice when she says his name. "What are you doing here? Did Ben call you? Did the hospital?"
Dean's still on her emergency contact list, just because she knows that no matter where things stand between them, he's someone she can count on to look out for Ben. But Dean shakes his head.
"No. Nobody called me."
Lisa frowns. "Then how did you get here?"
Dean hesitates. "What's the last thing you remember?" he asks instead, not answering her question.
She's been trying to figure that out since she woke up, and she almost tells him that too, but something makes her stop. It's vague and hazy, but-
"A baseball game," Lisa blurts out. "I…"
- She's never liked 7th street. There's a stop sign, but it's right next to a tree, and she's always worried that one day, somebody's gonna fly right through the intersection and never see that sign. She really should call the city and complain, but it's one of those things she always winds up forgetting until the next time she has to drive down 7th. Shaking her head at herself, she smiles at Ben, then signals for a right turn -
"…I was giving Ben a ride. His coach wanted them there a little early…"
- there's a rush of sound, a car horn blaring, the crunch of glass and metal, and -
Lisa looks back up at Dean, feeling suddenly cold, sick. "We didn't make it to the game, did we?"
"No, you didn't."
Lisa swallows hard. "Ben, is he…?"
"He's pretty banged up, but he'll be okay."
Relief almost makes her legs buckle, and she draws another deep breath. Ben will be alright. That's all that matters. Ben will be alright. She repeats it like a mantra, waiting for that cold, sick feeling to fade.
But it doesn't.
And somehow, suddenly, she just…knows. Tears sting her eyes, and she tries furiously to blink them away. She takes a step back, not sure if she's trying to get away from Dean or the realization that she's…she's…
"I'm not okay, though, am I?" The words sound hoarse, even to her own ears, and Dean's voice is thick with emotion when he answers.
"No, you're not."
She wants to deny it. She wants to scream, and shout, and pretend this is all a dream that she has to wake up from. She thirty-five, she's too young to die. And Ben. Ben. He'll be turning fifteen in a couple months. He's too young to lose his mom. He hasn't even had his first date yet. Or gotten his permit. Or graduated from high school. Or college. Or fallen in love and gotten married. She wants to be there for all those things. She needs to be there. Ben needs her to be there.
"No." It comes out as a gasp, a sob. "No. I…I can't be. I'm not…"
"Lisa-" Dean starts.
"No." She shakes her head, refusing to accept it, even though the accident - what she remembers of it - is playing in her mind on a loop, now, like a bad video tape stuck on repeat.
A few tears escape, and Dean starts to reach for her like he wants to pull her into his arms, but then her gaze falls on the ring on his hand. It's not the thick, silver ring she remembers, the one Dean never talked about, but always wore. This ring is silver too, but it's got some kind of square-cut, white stone set in it…an opal or a pearl, maybe. She's not sure. But whatever it is, as soon as she spots it, Dean's hand falls back down to his side, and he looks away uncomfortably.
An awkward silence fills the room, and Lisa shivers, hugging herself a little.
"Lisa," Dean says at last, in that soft, sincere tone he only uses when he means every word. "Look. I know…I know this is hard, believe me, and I wish things were different. But they aren't. This is real."
She wants to ignore him. She wants tell him that he's wrong, cover her ears, and demand that he leave her alone. But she can't. She knows Dean. She trusts him. And as much as she wants to pretend otherwise, she knows he's not lying. So, she takes another deep, shaky breath and wipes the tears away.
She's an independent person by nature, and she likes to think she can handle almost anything life throws at her: being a single mom, falling in love with a man who hunts the things nightmares are made of, losing that man because his brother is suddenly back from the dead…
That thought makes her shiver again but she grits her teeth and ignores the temptation to just crawl into the corner and pretend that any minute now, she's going to wake up in her own bed.
This is real. This is happening. And she's going to deal with it.
She forces herself to stand up straight and uncrosses her arms.
"I…I don't understand. If I'm…" She can't finish that sentence. "If this is real," she says instead, "then why…why are you here?" A sudden thought occurs to her, and her eyes widen. "Are you here because of me? I mean, are you here to…"
Is Dean hunting her? Like the spirits he told her about? Is that what she is now? A ghost?
Dean smiles a sad smile. "No. I'm not here on a hunt. I-" He hesitates again, obviously searching for the right words. "I have a new gig," he says finally. That makes her frown, and Dean shifts uneasily, sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "I'm Death."
Lisa blinks, sure that she heard wrong. Death? She has the absurd urge to laugh. The man she loves is Death? Death? She has a million questions, but the first thing that comes out of her mouth is: "Aren't you supposed to have a scythe?"
Dean snorts softly, his lips quirking. "Nah. Tabloid rumors."
Her thoughts are racing too fast for her to appreciate the joke. "You-you said…'new gig.' You weren't always…?"
Had Death been the man who'd stayed with them? The man Ben had looked up to? The man she'd hoped would never leave?
Dean shakes his head, his voice quiet, the humor gone. "No."
"But how…?"
"It's a long story."
She believes it. If it's hard to imagine Dean as Death, it's even harder to imagine how somebody could become Death.
An awkward silence falls again, and Lisa tries to figure out what to say, but the words seem to catch in her throat. If things between them had been complicated before, she's not even sure how to describe what they are now.
"So," she manages finally. "You're…you're here for me?"
"Yeah." Dean looks down again, his boot scuffing the tile floor. "I could have sent one of the reapers, but I wanted to handle this myself."
A weak laugh bubbles up from somewhere. "I bet you say that to all the girls."
He smiles again, but his answer is totally sincere. "No. Just you."
For just a second, things are like they used to be. The easy banter, the teasing, the warmth. But the illusion doesn't last.
She swallows hard, feeling numb. "What now?"
Dean stands up and walks towards her. "Now, you take my hand."
She's about to ask if that's really all there is to it, but then her gaze falls on the hospital bed behind him, and the words die in her throat.
She's on the bed. Her. Her body.
She's still and pale and the right side of her face is covered in blood. Machines surround the bed, their monitors dark. Silent.
And it hits her all over again.
She won't be waking up in the morning to make breakfast before Ben goes to school. She won't be singing along with the songs on the radio on her way to work. She won't be drinking coffee and curling up with a good book on a rainy day. She won't see Ben grow up. She won't be doing anything, ever.
She's dead.
Dean is reaching out to touch her, but she steps back frantically, suddenly wanting to get as far away from him as possible. "No!"
"Lisa-"
"No." She shakes her head again, closing her eyes. "I can't do this."
"You have to."
Lisa can tell that it's not an easy thing for Dean to say, but it only makes her open her eyes and glare at him. "Why?" she demands. "You're Death. Can't you make an exception or something?"
His answer is quiet, firm. Pained. "No, I can't."
"Doesn't what we had mean anything to you? Anything at all?" She knows it's a low blow, but she's desperate.
Dean flinches. "Of course it does. But I have a job to do, and I-"
"A job. Right. So, that's what I am to you now, huh? Your job." This time, Dean looks like he's been slapped, and Lisa immediately wishes she could take that back, but it's too late, and she's suddenly just so angry… "You owe me this, Dean. I stood by you. I loved you. And you abandoned us."
She knows that's not fair, she knows that Dean did his best, that he left to protect them, not just from the things he hunted, but from himself, too, and a part of her only loved him even more for that. But that didn't change anything. She was still left alone, with a brokenhearted, angry little boy who missed the only father he'd ever known.
The expression on Dean's face is raw now, reminding her of how he'd looked when he woke up from a nightmare…the ones he refused to talk about. "I'm sorry, Lisa. For everything. But I can't change the past, no matter how much I want to. And I can't change this."
Turns burn in her eyes again. "Why not?"
"It just doesn't work that way. It's your time. Saving you-" His voice catches. "Saving you, means that somebody else would have to die. Maybe a lot of people."
"But you could do it, couldn't you?"
Dean doesn't say anything, and that's answer enough.
"Please, Dean. I-I don't wanna die. Ben needs me." She's begging now, and she knows that, hates herself a little for it too, for being so selfish. Somebody else would have to die…maybe a lot of people. Maybe it makes her a horrible person, but right now she just doesn't care. Ben against the whole world? No contest. She'd pick Ben any day.
And somewhere in her mind, a piece falls into place, part of a giant puzzle with a picture she still can't quite make out, but maybe now, she understands it a little better.
Sam is Dean's Ben. The brother he raised. The one he would…had given up everything for.
She wonders where Sam is. If what happened to him has something to do with who - what - Dean is now.
She doesn't ask.
"Please," she says again, her voice almost a whisper. "Please, fix this. If not for me, then for Ben. I'll do anything. Just…just don't let me die."
"Lisa." Dean's never said her name like that before, and she knows this is killing him, just as much as it's killing her. "I can't. I'm sorry. This is how it has to be."
The tears she's been fighting begin to fall, a sob wrenching itself from her throat, and Dean finally closes the distance between them and pulls her into his arms, tucking her head under his chin. She stiffens, wanting to push him away, but a bigger part of her needs the comfort, and she relents, melting against him.
She'd expected Death to be cold, but Dean isn't. He's real, and solid, and warm, the fabric of his shirt soft against her cheek. His hand rubs her back, and Lisa closes her eyes, just letting the tears come. She cries for Ben, for Dean, for everything they could have had, and…for herself, for everything she'll be leaving behind.
She's not sure how long they stay that way, but when the tears finally slow, she feels Dean's voice rumble softly in his chest. "Lisa."
She already knows what he's going to say. She lets herself enjoy the feeling of his arms around her for just a moment longer, then braces herself and pulls away. Dean lets her go.
"Okay," she says, ignoring how shaky she still sounds…how much she wants to just lose herself in his arms again. "Okay." She meets his eyes. "But I want to say goodbye to Ben first."
Dean doesn't look surprised, just weary. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."
She lifts her chin stubbornly. "I'm saying goodbye to my son, Dean."
She doesn't wait for Dean to answer, just turns around and starts walking. Lisa has no idea where Ben is in the hospital, and she doesn't really know where she's going, but she doesn't stop walking until she sees a couple of nurses coming down the hallway, pushing an empty gurney through the ER and towards the curtained-off area she just left behind. It's not hard to guess who it's for.
She swallows hard and keeps going, looking into every open room she comes across.
"He's on the second floor." Lisa jumps, startled, and turns to glare at Dean, who's suddenly just there, next to her. He offers her a half-amused, half-apologetic smile and nods at the corridor. "This way."
She scowls at his back as he starts down the hall, but hurries to catch up with his longer stride. The trip is mostly silent, uninterrupted and unnoticed by the doctors and nurses they pass on the way.
They can't see us, Lisa thinks.
Of course they can't, a cynical part of her retorts. You're dead, remember?
The thought makes Lisa shudder, unease skirting down her spine. She ignores the way her eyes burn, and rubs her arm subconsciously, trying to chase away the queasy feeling. She knows Dean is watching her, concerned, but she pretends not to notice. "So," she winds up saying, trying to distract him…trying to distract herself, "If you're the new Death, what happened to the old one?"
"He wanted an extended vacation."
Lisa glances at him sharply, sure he's joking, but when she really looks at him, she realizes he's serious. "So, you're…filling in for him?"
Dean's eyes flicker. "Something like that."
It's a non-answer, but she doesn't mind. She's not sure that she wants to know.
They take the stairs and pass by the nurses' station, then turn down another corridor before they stop in front of a private room. She can't see much from the doorway, but the tangled mess of blankets can only belong to Ben.
Her feet carry her forward before she has time to think about it, and she stops next to his bed, her eyes running over every inch of him.
He's sleeping.
She's not sure if it's a natural sleep, or a drug-induced one, but he looks uncomfortable and restless, a frown marring his features. Small cuts cover one side of his face, a longer, deeper gash running over his nose. A large bruise darkens his temple, and his right arm is in a cast.
That's going to drive him nuts, Lisa thinks. He won't be able to pick up a bat for weeks. Video games are probably out, too.
Her hands come up automatically to rest on the railing of his bed, but instead of meeting a solid surface, her hands pass right through it. Lisa flinches and pulls back, staring at her palms in shock. She swallows hard, her fingers curling into fists before she lets her hands drop down to her sides.
Maybe that shouldn't surprise her - she's seen Ghost, after all, even made Dean watch it with her once - but the idea of not being able to touch Ben, just to say goodbye…
"Lisa?"
"Does he know?" she asks, quickly. "About me, I mean? Does he know that I'm…?"
Dean isn't fooled by her avoidance, but he knows her well enough not to call her on it. "He knows. One of the doctors talked to him."
"Who's going to stay with him?" she presses.
"Your sister's on her way here."
Lisa remembers asking her sister to look after Ben if anything ever happened to her, and getting the paperwork to make her Ben's next legal guardian, just in case.
She just never thought she'd need it.
She bites her lip and looks away for a moment, fighting fresh tears.
Jen. Her sister has a little girl of her own, and a deadbeat ex-husband. Ben loves his cousin, but a four-year-old girl and a teenage boy are not a good combination long-term, especially a boy like Ben, who can be a handful sometimes. To just leave Jen alone like that, with two kids to take care of…to leave Ben alone…
"No," she says suddenly. "No, I'm not going."
"Lisa-"
She doesn't let him finish. "I know," she says firmly. "We've been over this. I'm dead. I know you can't change that. But I can't leave. Ben needs me." She squares her shoulders, ready for an argument. "I'm staying."
For the first time since he appeared in her room, Dean seems angry, frustrated…desperate. "Lisa, it won't work."
"I told you, I'm staying." She looks back at Ben, but Dean's beside her in an instant.
"No!" He takes her by the shoulders, startling her. "Listen to me, okay? It. Won't. Work. I've been where you are. And I felt the same way. But you know those angry spirits I told you about? Where do you think they come from?"
Lisa's eyes widen in realization. "I-"
"You stay here," he continues, "and you'll be stuck like this for years, decades, just watching. Sooner or later that's gonna get to you, and you're gonna snap - then you will become something that a hunter'll need to take care of. Is that what you want? Is that what Ben would want?"
Lisa doesn't answer - can't answer. The tell-tale burn in her eyes returns, and she looks away, blinking hard.
"Lisa." She feels Dean's hand at the back of her neck, his thumb brushing her jaw, coaxing her to face him. "Lisa, look at me."
She does.
"Ben will be okay."
He sounds so certain, so sure…but Lisa shakes her head. "You can't know that."
"Yes, I can."
"How?"
"Because I know Ben. He's a tough kid." Dean gently tilts her head back so that she has to meet his eyes. "And I know his mom, too. She raised him right. He'll be okay. He will."
There's nothing but absolute conviction in his gaze, and Lisa stares at him for a long moment, wanting to believe it too. She bites her lip and looks back at Ben. His head's leaning a little to one side, dark bangs falling over his forehead, concealing the cuts on his face. She can almost pretend that Ben's asleep in his bed at home, and it's just like any other time she stopped by his room to check on him in the middle of the night.
"I…I don't want to go."
"I know. But it's better if you do. Trust me."
Something in Dean's tone makes her turn to look back at him again. I've been where you are, he'd said. There's a lot she doesn't know about Dean, a lot they never talked about, a lot he only gave her the bare bones explanations for.
"Is that why…?" Is that why you wound up like this? she finishes silently. Because…you tried to stay?
Dean seems to hear the unspoken question, and nods, giving her the saddest smile she's seen yet. "Part of it."
Lisa shudders, and swallows hard.
Her gaze drifts back to Ben, and tears brim in her eyes once more, but she forces herself to move closer, unthinkingly reaching out to ruffle his hair, like she always has. She stops herself at the last minute, and her hand falls back down to her side.
"Hey, Ben," she says hoarsely.
He doesn't react, and silently praying that somehow, he heard her, Lisa just lets her gaze wander, wanting to memorize his features. She winces at every mark the car accident left behind, then glances down at the cast on his wrist.
"I'm sorry about your arm," she starts. "Listen to the doctors, though, and take it easy until it heals, alright?" Lisa snorts softly - it's not really the profound wisdom a mom is supposed to pass on to her son. She can already imagine what Ben would say if he knew she was here. "I know," she manages, "not exactly words to live by, are they? But I…I want you do that. Live, I mean. Live a good life, Ben."
She looks at his face again, and blinks hard at the way he suddenly seems somehow both incredibly young and incredibly grown-up all at once - some impossible mix of the two.
"I'm sorry that I won't be there to watch you grow up. I wanted to be. But, no matter what, I want you to know, I'm proud of you. I always will be." Ben stirs a little in his sleep, his head lolling towards her, and Lisa smiles. "Go easy on your Aunt Jen, okay? Listen to her when she asks you do something, and help her with Grace when she needs you to." Her smile widens at the idea of Ben being a big brother, even as the tears she's been fighting finally win the battle. "I love you, Ben."
She longs to touch him, but knowing that's impossible now, she settles for just watching him for a few minutes longer. It's not enough, but it never could be, so finally, she takes a deep breath, turns away, and walks back over to Dean.
"Okay," she tells him. "I'm ready."
"You're sure?"
She looks at Ben one last time, then meets Dean's gaze. "Yes. I'm sure."
Dean smiles his sad smile, and reaches for her hand. "Close your eyes, Lisa," he says.
And she does.
Fin
~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, and please let me know what you think!
Take care and God bless!
-Laughter
Author: LaughtersMelody
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine, but I'm still not giving Dean back.
Genre: Angst/Tragedy/Future fic/AU/Character Death
Pairing: Leans towards Lisa/Dean
Type: One-shot
Spoilers: There are spoilers for "Appointment in Samara," and references to the episodes, "Exile on Main Street," "Two and a Half Men," "You Can't Handle The Truth," and "Mannequin 3: The Reckoning."
Characters: Lisa
Secondary Characters: Dean, Ben
Summary: Lisa had always hoped she'd see Dean again…just not like this.
A/N: This fic is an AU and it became even more AU once "Let it Bleed," aired. It takes place three years from the last time Dean saw Lisa and Ben in "Mannequin 3: The Reckoning," assuming for the sake of this fic, that he never saw them again after that point.
Dedicated to my dear friend, roselani24, for all of her wonderful encouragement and willingness to be a sounding board, and for allowing me to use an idea she had when were talking about where Supernatural might be heading. :D It's her idea that largely inspired this fic.
And as always, I thank my Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. His mercy is incredible.
~*~*~*~*~
Sweet Sorrow
Lisa wakes up in the hospital.
Or, at least that's where she just suddenly is, and she can't remember where she'd been before that, but she had to wake up sometime between then and now, right? The fact that she doesn't actually remember waking up doesn't mean anything. She's probably just confused and doped-up on pain meds or something. After all, she's in a hospital, and she wasn't sick - she doesn't think so, anyway - so there must have been some kind of accident.
Worry makes her draw a sharp breath. Ben. Where is Ben? What if he was with her? Is he okay? Is he hurt? She wants nothing more than to run out of her room, stop the first doctor she sees, and demand to know where her son is. But, she has some medical training way back from her college days when she'd been enrolled in pre-med, and she knows that the best thing she can do right now is try to stay calm and wait for the doctors to come to her. If Ben is hurt, they don't need an hysterical mother distracting them. Still, she wishes there was a call button in here. It's weird that there's not, but maybe they just hadn't expected her to wake up so soon. Maybe she really should get up and look around, peek outside the curtain and let them know she's conscious. She doesn't think she'll have any trouble walking. She's not in any pain - but, then again, that could just mean that she's on some especially good drugs.
She swings her legs carefully over the edge of the bed, letting her feet dangle. The world doesn't tilt on it's axis, and she doesn't feel like she's going to throw up, so she keeps going, slipping off the bed until her feet hit the floor. She walks slowly, just because she doesn't want to take a nose-dive into the tile if she isn't as steady as she thinks, but she makes it the few feet to the curtain without any trouble.
She reaches up, ready to push the curtain aside, and-
"Hey, Lisa."
Lisa freezes at the subdued greeting, shock holding her firmly in place. She knows that voice. It's the voice she's missed so much it hurts, the voice she's tried so hard to forget, but has never quite been able to.
Dean.
She pulls back her hand, takes a deep breath, and turns around to face him, trying to pretend that she's not as lost as she is, because the gaping hole in her memory is still a gaping hole, and Dean's presence here only confuses her more. She folds her arms across her chest, feeling self-conscious. She has no idea what she looks like right now, but she was in an accident and laying in a hospital bed for who-knows-how-long, so she's probably a mess, and that's really not the impression she'd wanted to make when - if - she saw him again.
Dean, though, looks just like she remembers, even after three years; those same, dark, unfathomable, hazel eyes, and impossibly long lashes, the same military haircut, high cheek bones, and full lips. He's leaning against her hospital bed, watching her, his expression sad.
"Dean," she starts, hoping he won't notice the catch in her voice when she says his name. "What are you doing here? Did Ben call you? Did the hospital?"
Dean's still on her emergency contact list, just because she knows that no matter where things stand between them, he's someone she can count on to look out for Ben. But Dean shakes his head.
"No. Nobody called me."
Lisa frowns. "Then how did you get here?"
Dean hesitates. "What's the last thing you remember?" he asks instead, not answering her question.
She's been trying to figure that out since she woke up, and she almost tells him that too, but something makes her stop. It's vague and hazy, but-
"A baseball game," Lisa blurts out. "I…"
- She's never liked 7th street. There's a stop sign, but it's right next to a tree, and she's always worried that one day, somebody's gonna fly right through the intersection and never see that sign. She really should call the city and complain, but it's one of those things she always winds up forgetting until the next time she has to drive down 7th. Shaking her head at herself, she smiles at Ben, then signals for a right turn -
"…I was giving Ben a ride. His coach wanted them there a little early…"
- there's a rush of sound, a car horn blaring, the crunch of glass and metal, and -
Lisa looks back up at Dean, feeling suddenly cold, sick. "We didn't make it to the game, did we?"
"No, you didn't."
Lisa swallows hard. "Ben, is he…?"
"He's pretty banged up, but he'll be okay."
Relief almost makes her legs buckle, and she draws another deep breath. Ben will be alright. That's all that matters. Ben will be alright. She repeats it like a mantra, waiting for that cold, sick feeling to fade.
But it doesn't.
And somehow, suddenly, she just…knows. Tears sting her eyes, and she tries furiously to blink them away. She takes a step back, not sure if she's trying to get away from Dean or the realization that she's…she's…
"I'm not okay, though, am I?" The words sound hoarse, even to her own ears, and Dean's voice is thick with emotion when he answers.
"No, you're not."
She wants to deny it. She wants to scream, and shout, and pretend this is all a dream that she has to wake up from. She thirty-five, she's too young to die. And Ben. Ben. He'll be turning fifteen in a couple months. He's too young to lose his mom. He hasn't even had his first date yet. Or gotten his permit. Or graduated from high school. Or college. Or fallen in love and gotten married. She wants to be there for all those things. She needs to be there. Ben needs her to be there.
"No." It comes out as a gasp, a sob. "No. I…I can't be. I'm not…"
"Lisa-" Dean starts.
"No." She shakes her head, refusing to accept it, even though the accident - what she remembers of it - is playing in her mind on a loop, now, like a bad video tape stuck on repeat.
A few tears escape, and Dean starts to reach for her like he wants to pull her into his arms, but then her gaze falls on the ring on his hand. It's not the thick, silver ring she remembers, the one Dean never talked about, but always wore. This ring is silver too, but it's got some kind of square-cut, white stone set in it…an opal or a pearl, maybe. She's not sure. But whatever it is, as soon as she spots it, Dean's hand falls back down to his side, and he looks away uncomfortably.
An awkward silence fills the room, and Lisa shivers, hugging herself a little.
"Lisa," Dean says at last, in that soft, sincere tone he only uses when he means every word. "Look. I know…I know this is hard, believe me, and I wish things were different. But they aren't. This is real."
She wants to ignore him. She wants tell him that he's wrong, cover her ears, and demand that he leave her alone. But she can't. She knows Dean. She trusts him. And as much as she wants to pretend otherwise, she knows he's not lying. So, she takes another deep, shaky breath and wipes the tears away.
She's an independent person by nature, and she likes to think she can handle almost anything life throws at her: being a single mom, falling in love with a man who hunts the things nightmares are made of, losing that man because his brother is suddenly back from the dead…
That thought makes her shiver again but she grits her teeth and ignores the temptation to just crawl into the corner and pretend that any minute now, she's going to wake up in her own bed.
This is real. This is happening. And she's going to deal with it.
She forces herself to stand up straight and uncrosses her arms.
"I…I don't understand. If I'm…" She can't finish that sentence. "If this is real," she says instead, "then why…why are you here?" A sudden thought occurs to her, and her eyes widen. "Are you here because of me? I mean, are you here to…"
Is Dean hunting her? Like the spirits he told her about? Is that what she is now? A ghost?
Dean smiles a sad smile. "No. I'm not here on a hunt. I-" He hesitates again, obviously searching for the right words. "I have a new gig," he says finally. That makes her frown, and Dean shifts uneasily, sticking his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "I'm Death."
Lisa blinks, sure that she heard wrong. Death? She has the absurd urge to laugh. The man she loves is Death? Death? She has a million questions, but the first thing that comes out of her mouth is: "Aren't you supposed to have a scythe?"
Dean snorts softly, his lips quirking. "Nah. Tabloid rumors."
Her thoughts are racing too fast for her to appreciate the joke. "You-you said…'new gig.' You weren't always…?"
Had Death been the man who'd stayed with them? The man Ben had looked up to? The man she'd hoped would never leave?
Dean shakes his head, his voice quiet, the humor gone. "No."
"But how…?"
"It's a long story."
She believes it. If it's hard to imagine Dean as Death, it's even harder to imagine how somebody could become Death.
An awkward silence falls again, and Lisa tries to figure out what to say, but the words seem to catch in her throat. If things between them had been complicated before, she's not even sure how to describe what they are now.
"So," she manages finally. "You're…you're here for me?"
"Yeah." Dean looks down again, his boot scuffing the tile floor. "I could have sent one of the reapers, but I wanted to handle this myself."
A weak laugh bubbles up from somewhere. "I bet you say that to all the girls."
He smiles again, but his answer is totally sincere. "No. Just you."
For just a second, things are like they used to be. The easy banter, the teasing, the warmth. But the illusion doesn't last.
She swallows hard, feeling numb. "What now?"
Dean stands up and walks towards her. "Now, you take my hand."
She's about to ask if that's really all there is to it, but then her gaze falls on the hospital bed behind him, and the words die in her throat.
She's on the bed. Her. Her body.
She's still and pale and the right side of her face is covered in blood. Machines surround the bed, their monitors dark. Silent.
And it hits her all over again.
She won't be waking up in the morning to make breakfast before Ben goes to school. She won't be singing along with the songs on the radio on her way to work. She won't be drinking coffee and curling up with a good book on a rainy day. She won't see Ben grow up. She won't be doing anything, ever.
She's dead.
Dean is reaching out to touch her, but she steps back frantically, suddenly wanting to get as far away from him as possible. "No!"
"Lisa-"
"No." She shakes her head again, closing her eyes. "I can't do this."
"You have to."
Lisa can tell that it's not an easy thing for Dean to say, but it only makes her open her eyes and glare at him. "Why?" she demands. "You're Death. Can't you make an exception or something?"
His answer is quiet, firm. Pained. "No, I can't."
"Doesn't what we had mean anything to you? Anything at all?" She knows it's a low blow, but she's desperate.
Dean flinches. "Of course it does. But I have a job to do, and I-"
"A job. Right. So, that's what I am to you now, huh? Your job." This time, Dean looks like he's been slapped, and Lisa immediately wishes she could take that back, but it's too late, and she's suddenly just so angry… "You owe me this, Dean. I stood by you. I loved you. And you abandoned us."
She knows that's not fair, she knows that Dean did his best, that he left to protect them, not just from the things he hunted, but from himself, too, and a part of her only loved him even more for that. But that didn't change anything. She was still left alone, with a brokenhearted, angry little boy who missed the only father he'd ever known.
The expression on Dean's face is raw now, reminding her of how he'd looked when he woke up from a nightmare…the ones he refused to talk about. "I'm sorry, Lisa. For everything. But I can't change the past, no matter how much I want to. And I can't change this."
Turns burn in her eyes again. "Why not?"
"It just doesn't work that way. It's your time. Saving you-" His voice catches. "Saving you, means that somebody else would have to die. Maybe a lot of people."
"But you could do it, couldn't you?"
Dean doesn't say anything, and that's answer enough.
"Please, Dean. I-I don't wanna die. Ben needs me." She's begging now, and she knows that, hates herself a little for it too, for being so selfish. Somebody else would have to die…maybe a lot of people. Maybe it makes her a horrible person, but right now she just doesn't care. Ben against the whole world? No contest. She'd pick Ben any day.
And somewhere in her mind, a piece falls into place, part of a giant puzzle with a picture she still can't quite make out, but maybe now, she understands it a little better.
Sam is Dean's Ben. The brother he raised. The one he would…had given up everything for.
She wonders where Sam is. If what happened to him has something to do with who - what - Dean is now.
She doesn't ask.
"Please," she says again, her voice almost a whisper. "Please, fix this. If not for me, then for Ben. I'll do anything. Just…just don't let me die."
"Lisa." Dean's never said her name like that before, and she knows this is killing him, just as much as it's killing her. "I can't. I'm sorry. This is how it has to be."
The tears she's been fighting begin to fall, a sob wrenching itself from her throat, and Dean finally closes the distance between them and pulls her into his arms, tucking her head under his chin. She stiffens, wanting to push him away, but a bigger part of her needs the comfort, and she relents, melting against him.
She'd expected Death to be cold, but Dean isn't. He's real, and solid, and warm, the fabric of his shirt soft against her cheek. His hand rubs her back, and Lisa closes her eyes, just letting the tears come. She cries for Ben, for Dean, for everything they could have had, and…for herself, for everything she'll be leaving behind.
She's not sure how long they stay that way, but when the tears finally slow, she feels Dean's voice rumble softly in his chest. "Lisa."
She already knows what he's going to say. She lets herself enjoy the feeling of his arms around her for just a moment longer, then braces herself and pulls away. Dean lets her go.
"Okay," she says, ignoring how shaky she still sounds…how much she wants to just lose herself in his arms again. "Okay." She meets his eyes. "But I want to say goodbye to Ben first."
Dean doesn't look surprised, just weary. "I'm not sure that's a good idea."
She lifts her chin stubbornly. "I'm saying goodbye to my son, Dean."
She doesn't wait for Dean to answer, just turns around and starts walking. Lisa has no idea where Ben is in the hospital, and she doesn't really know where she's going, but she doesn't stop walking until she sees a couple of nurses coming down the hallway, pushing an empty gurney through the ER and towards the curtained-off area she just left behind. It's not hard to guess who it's for.
She swallows hard and keeps going, looking into every open room she comes across.
"He's on the second floor." Lisa jumps, startled, and turns to glare at Dean, who's suddenly just there, next to her. He offers her a half-amused, half-apologetic smile and nods at the corridor. "This way."
She scowls at his back as he starts down the hall, but hurries to catch up with his longer stride. The trip is mostly silent, uninterrupted and unnoticed by the doctors and nurses they pass on the way.
They can't see us, Lisa thinks.
Of course they can't, a cynical part of her retorts. You're dead, remember?
The thought makes Lisa shudder, unease skirting down her spine. She ignores the way her eyes burn, and rubs her arm subconsciously, trying to chase away the queasy feeling. She knows Dean is watching her, concerned, but she pretends not to notice. "So," she winds up saying, trying to distract him…trying to distract herself, "If you're the new Death, what happened to the old one?"
"He wanted an extended vacation."
Lisa glances at him sharply, sure he's joking, but when she really looks at him, she realizes he's serious. "So, you're…filling in for him?"
Dean's eyes flicker. "Something like that."
It's a non-answer, but she doesn't mind. She's not sure that she wants to know.
They take the stairs and pass by the nurses' station, then turn down another corridor before they stop in front of a private room. She can't see much from the doorway, but the tangled mess of blankets can only belong to Ben.
Her feet carry her forward before she has time to think about it, and she stops next to his bed, her eyes running over every inch of him.
He's sleeping.
She's not sure if it's a natural sleep, or a drug-induced one, but he looks uncomfortable and restless, a frown marring his features. Small cuts cover one side of his face, a longer, deeper gash running over his nose. A large bruise darkens his temple, and his right arm is in a cast.
That's going to drive him nuts, Lisa thinks. He won't be able to pick up a bat for weeks. Video games are probably out, too.
Her hands come up automatically to rest on the railing of his bed, but instead of meeting a solid surface, her hands pass right through it. Lisa flinches and pulls back, staring at her palms in shock. She swallows hard, her fingers curling into fists before she lets her hands drop down to her sides.
Maybe that shouldn't surprise her - she's seen Ghost, after all, even made Dean watch it with her once - but the idea of not being able to touch Ben, just to say goodbye…
"Lisa?"
"Does he know?" she asks, quickly. "About me, I mean? Does he know that I'm…?"
Dean isn't fooled by her avoidance, but he knows her well enough not to call her on it. "He knows. One of the doctors talked to him."
"Who's going to stay with him?" she presses.
"Your sister's on her way here."
Lisa remembers asking her sister to look after Ben if anything ever happened to her, and getting the paperwork to make her Ben's next legal guardian, just in case.
She just never thought she'd need it.
She bites her lip and looks away for a moment, fighting fresh tears.
Jen. Her sister has a little girl of her own, and a deadbeat ex-husband. Ben loves his cousin, but a four-year-old girl and a teenage boy are not a good combination long-term, especially a boy like Ben, who can be a handful sometimes. To just leave Jen alone like that, with two kids to take care of…to leave Ben alone…
"No," she says suddenly. "No, I'm not going."
"Lisa-"
She doesn't let him finish. "I know," she says firmly. "We've been over this. I'm dead. I know you can't change that. But I can't leave. Ben needs me." She squares her shoulders, ready for an argument. "I'm staying."
For the first time since he appeared in her room, Dean seems angry, frustrated…desperate. "Lisa, it won't work."
"I told you, I'm staying." She looks back at Ben, but Dean's beside her in an instant.
"No!" He takes her by the shoulders, startling her. "Listen to me, okay? It. Won't. Work. I've been where you are. And I felt the same way. But you know those angry spirits I told you about? Where do you think they come from?"
Lisa's eyes widen in realization. "I-"
"You stay here," he continues, "and you'll be stuck like this for years, decades, just watching. Sooner or later that's gonna get to you, and you're gonna snap - then you will become something that a hunter'll need to take care of. Is that what you want? Is that what Ben would want?"
Lisa doesn't answer - can't answer. The tell-tale burn in her eyes returns, and she looks away, blinking hard.
"Lisa." She feels Dean's hand at the back of her neck, his thumb brushing her jaw, coaxing her to face him. "Lisa, look at me."
She does.
"Ben will be okay."
He sounds so certain, so sure…but Lisa shakes her head. "You can't know that."
"Yes, I can."
"How?"
"Because I know Ben. He's a tough kid." Dean gently tilts her head back so that she has to meet his eyes. "And I know his mom, too. She raised him right. He'll be okay. He will."
There's nothing but absolute conviction in his gaze, and Lisa stares at him for a long moment, wanting to believe it too. She bites her lip and looks back at Ben. His head's leaning a little to one side, dark bangs falling over his forehead, concealing the cuts on his face. She can almost pretend that Ben's asleep in his bed at home, and it's just like any other time she stopped by his room to check on him in the middle of the night.
"I…I don't want to go."
"I know. But it's better if you do. Trust me."
Something in Dean's tone makes her turn to look back at him again. I've been where you are, he'd said. There's a lot she doesn't know about Dean, a lot they never talked about, a lot he only gave her the bare bones explanations for.
"Is that why…?" Is that why you wound up like this? she finishes silently. Because…you tried to stay?
Dean seems to hear the unspoken question, and nods, giving her the saddest smile she's seen yet. "Part of it."
Lisa shudders, and swallows hard.
Her gaze drifts back to Ben, and tears brim in her eyes once more, but she forces herself to move closer, unthinkingly reaching out to ruffle his hair, like she always has. She stops herself at the last minute, and her hand falls back down to her side.
"Hey, Ben," she says hoarsely.
He doesn't react, and silently praying that somehow, he heard her, Lisa just lets her gaze wander, wanting to memorize his features. She winces at every mark the car accident left behind, then glances down at the cast on his wrist.
"I'm sorry about your arm," she starts. "Listen to the doctors, though, and take it easy until it heals, alright?" Lisa snorts softly - it's not really the profound wisdom a mom is supposed to pass on to her son. She can already imagine what Ben would say if he knew she was here. "I know," she manages, "not exactly words to live by, are they? But I…I want you do that. Live, I mean. Live a good life, Ben."
She looks at his face again, and blinks hard at the way he suddenly seems somehow both incredibly young and incredibly grown-up all at once - some impossible mix of the two.
"I'm sorry that I won't be there to watch you grow up. I wanted to be. But, no matter what, I want you to know, I'm proud of you. I always will be." Ben stirs a little in his sleep, his head lolling towards her, and Lisa smiles. "Go easy on your Aunt Jen, okay? Listen to her when she asks you do something, and help her with Grace when she needs you to." Her smile widens at the idea of Ben being a big brother, even as the tears she's been fighting finally win the battle. "I love you, Ben."
She longs to touch him, but knowing that's impossible now, she settles for just watching him for a few minutes longer. It's not enough, but it never could be, so finally, she takes a deep breath, turns away, and walks back over to Dean.
"Okay," she tells him. "I'm ready."
"You're sure?"
She looks at Ben one last time, then meets Dean's gaze. "Yes. I'm sure."
Dean smiles his sad smile, and reaches for her hand. "Close your eyes, Lisa," he says.
And she does.
Fin
~*~*~*~*~
A/N: Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it, and please let me know what you think!
Take care and God bless!
-Laughter