Supernatural Fanfiction: Where I belong
Title: Where I Belong
Characters: Future!Dean Winchester/OFC, Future!Castiel
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Episode 5x04 “The End”
Disclaimer: Everything is Kripke's and the CW's, unfortunately. Only the Mary-Sue-age belongs to me.
Word Count: 4155
Author: petbubble
Authors' notes: This was my first ever fanfic; written back at the end of 2009, and was written as part of an RP/prompt about what would Christmas feel like for someone in Camp Chitaqua who was also a part of Dean's 'life'. I hold full responsibility for all poor writing, heavy smuttage and the entire Mary-Sue feel - because when I wrote this I didn't know a thing about fanfic! (Not that I know that much more now haha!)
That day began like most others had done recently.
As the weak, early morning light began to create shadows in the room, Grace felt his absence in the bed long before she was fully awake. She exhaled, a quiet sigh that clouded in the chill room as she remembered last night. Stretching and turning under the covers, her eyes starting to adjust to the changing light, Grace focussed on the figure asleep in the chair across from the bed.
Although it was still too dark to make out many details, she already knew what she would see if the morning light were stronger. Dean would be in the clothes he'd worn yesterday and the day before, and though his face would be relaxed in sleep, there would still be a hard edge to it. She knew... she understood where this edge had come from though, and the pain that lay behind it; pain that had taken years to build, ever since Detroit. Ever since Sam. Understanding didn't mean that it wasn't still painful to see, especially now with the task Dean had set himself.
As she sat up, Dean moved and mumbled in his sleep, something that Grace couldn’t quite make out, but she immediately recognised the angry emotion behind the sound. As he shifted in the chair she tensed, holding steady until he quietened and stilled again.
She watched as Dean’s chest rose and fell steadily again, then assuring herself that he was still asleep, she pushed the covers back, shivering as the cold air nipped at those few areas of her skin that were left uncovered. Pulling a blanket from the bed, she gently laid it over him, reaching out a hand to touch his face before stopping herself only an inch or so away.
He looks so tired. She knew better than to comment on this when he was awake. Recently her ‘fearless leader’ had taken to seeing even the most innocent enquiry as an indication of weakness. Shaking her head as she grabbed her jacket and boots, she padded in her stockinged feet to the next room, remembering last night and feeling grateful she hadn’t heard Dean return to the cabin.
~ * ~
“Fuck! This is getting me nowhere,” Dean growled as he slammed the cabin door behind him. “Another demon skank, fuckin’ dead. This is taking too damn long.” The frustration was clear to read in his body language, shoulders hunched and his expression shuttered.
Looking up from the pile of bright fabric in her lap, Grace frowned, watching him as he paced across the small room wiping his bloodied hands on a rag. His profile was hard as he stared at his hands for a second, before throwing the now bloody rag onto the floor. Still ignoring her, he poured himself a glass of whiskey, gulping it quickly, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Slamming the glass down, Dean stood glaring at the table as though the answers he needed would be found there, rather than from the demons he had recently tortured and killed.
“Where’s the damn kid?”
“Asleep…at last,” Grace replied. “Dean, what -”
“It died. Gave no information about Lucifer. Enough.”
Grace had heard the demon’s last screams, agonizing screams that sounded as if its very essence was on fire. Knowing Dean and his… skills, that was probably damn true, she thought sadly. She’d sat with Haylie for well over an hour, cradling her and singing, pretty crap, tuneless singing, to try and drown out the sound until the little girl had finally fallen asleep in her arms.
She looked up to find Dean staring at her, or more specifically at the fabric and ribbons in her lap, his expression colder than the winter air outside. As he leant down, picking up one of the small fabric wrapped gifts, her face coloured. Dean scowled at her, muttering. “Jesus Christ. Have you gone mad?”
Before she could reply, he dropped the package back in her lap, turned and grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the table.
“Going to Cas’ cabin. Don’t wait up sweetheart, I won’t be back”
~ * ~
“Hey there baby girl,” Grace whispered to the smiling face that greeted her as she entered Haylie’s room. The child’s dark curls bounced as she raised her arms at Grace, grinning widely at the greeting.
“Grace. Grace…did he been?” Haylie whispered, wide eyed as Grace wrapped her in a blanket and scooped her up into her arms.
She breathed in the fresh scent of Haylie’s hair, heart swelling at the delight in the four year old’s voice. A sound that had brightened up life in the camp ever since Dean and Cas had rescued her from the Croats that had killed her mother.
Grinning down at the blue eyed angel, she nodded. “Yes, I think he has sweetheart. You’ve been a good girl and he knew where to come.” Thank…whatever, that someone still believed enough to have told Haylie about Christmas.
As Haylie giggled talking to her stuffed rabbit toy, Grace heard the chair creak in the next room. The sound of steps approached the door, then stopped. She closed her eyes, burying her head in Haylie’s hair, knowing that the next thing she heard from there would be the cabin’s main door.
As she held her breath, listening to the child chatter to ‘Mrs Rabbit’ about good girls and rabbits and ‘him’, she heard the steps move away from the door. Damn the man…and today of all days, too.
The cabin door suddenly slammed and Grace, with a heavy feeling in her heart, lifted her face and forced herself to smile brightly at the child in her arms.
“Shall we see what Santa Claus brought you then baby girl?”
~ * ~
Even this early in the day, the communal dining area was busy. It was one of the camp’s central areas, a place where everyone eventually ended up at some point during the day, especially as the refugees tended not to sleep for long these days. After the Croatoan virus had been released, people quickly learned that sleeping heavily would probably get them killed or infected. Once they found their way to Chitaqua the habit of only catching a few hours sleep was one that most never changed. It had saved their lives, and would probably do so again.
Bread…someone’s made bread? Grace closed her eyes and breathed the yeasty, fresh baked smell, memories of… before flooding her mind. Before the thoughts could solidify, she shook her head and opened her eyes, focussing on the room in front of her - the here and now, not wasting time dwelling on the past. She smiled slightly as Haylie let go of her hand and ran towards Molly. A motherly looking woman - motherly, my ass - Molly was someone who Grace depended on, especially when it came to child care advice. Having raised three children, Molly was invaluable; offering advice on tantrums, food choices and even ideas for bedtime stories. She often wondered how Molly was able to spend so much time with them, knowing how her own children had died when the virus had started taking hold of the population.
As she filled two bowls with porridge from a pan which sat on the gas stove, Grace listened to Molly ask Haylie about the gifts that Santa had brought her. Haylie spoke excitedly about “pretty dresses” and her new toys, and showed Molly the ribbons she’d had Grace tie in her hair after unwrapping everything. As she turned towards the tables, she noticed Dean sitting at the far table with Cas and one of his team, Pete. Although all three men were talking quietly there was an air of agitation hanging over that part of the room.
Pete and Cas were talking intently, Pete shuffling in his seat as Cas leaned towards him. Dean slammed his coffee mug onto the table, speaking too low for anyone but the men at the table to hear. Pete stood, his chair scraping across the wooden floor, anger and frustration clear on his face.
“Tonight? We’re leaving tonight?” Pete spat at Dean.
Cas murmured something in reply, his hands extended towards the other two men in a conciliatory gesture.
“Tomorrow…technically. And yeah, we are. You got a problem with that?” Dean growled, slapping Cas’ hand away. “Damnit Cas, get your hand outta my face”.
“It’s Christmas. You do remember that don’t y-”
“Christmas!” Dean laughed bitterly, his mouth curling. “A day to celebrate the birth of God’s only child? The same friggin’ God that let all this happen… huh.” Picking his mug up and drinking, he looked away and caught Grace’s eye. Scowling, he held her gaze, ignoring Pete who was grabbing his jacket and turning to leave.
“Pete, you don’t turn up for this mission, you’d best have a damn good reason,” Dean said, staring down at the remains of his meal. “I have enough shit to deal with without sentimentalists”
As Pete stomped out of the kitchen, people began to talk normally again as the tension seemed to leave the room.
Grace put the bowls on the table nearest the fire, and reached behind her for the coffee pot, starting slightly as she heard Molly speak beside her.
“Sorry…I just couldn’t keep her with me when she saw they were here”
Turning at Molly’s apologetic tone, Grace winced as she saw Haylie weaving between people and chairs to where Dean and Cas were sitting. Oh damn, Haylie. Please behave? She felt Molly’s hand on her arm, as she started to move. “No, let her go. Probably what’s needed…they’ve been arguing for an hour now”
“G’mornin’ Cas. You have to give me my present now,” Haylie declared, standing beside his chair. “It is Christmas now, and I have been good. Yes…Grace says so” This last sentence was said with a sense of satisfaction as she looked up at him. Biting her bottom lip Grace tried not to laugh as she watched Cas turn in his chair to look down at the little girl, a puzzled expression on his face.
“A present? I believe the tradition is that Father Christmas brings those, child. And were you being good last week when I found an amphibian in my shoe?”
“Cas-tee-elll,” Haylie rolled her eyes as she over-emphasised his name. “It was a froggie, not a man…, man… fib… ium.” As she struggled over the unfamiliar word, she had climbed onto Cas’ lap, his arms automatically circling her to stop her falling.
“Haylie, you should be eatin’ your breakfast and not using Cas as a jungle-gym,” growled Dean, a look of annoyance crossing his face. Haylie twisted in Cas’ lap to look at him, tilted her head then quickly scrunched up her face and poked her tongue out. Grace watched as a flicker of astonishment softened Dean’s face, his eyes widening before he poked his tongue out at Haylie who giggled in return.
“What?” Dean grumbled, as everyone burst out laughing. “Never seen a frig- I mean a tongue before? Jesus calm down people and eat your food.” He looked directly at Grace as he said this, flicking his eyes to the seat beside him, the invitation clear. Without looking at her, Dean pushed his empty mug in front of her as she sat and she had to hold back the sigh that threatened as she refilled it with coffee. As he drank Haylie squealed in delight when Cas lifted a small package from his pocket, holding it just out of her reach.
Her eyes wide she squirmed on his lap, stretching towards the present as Cas chuckled, teasing her by keeping it just out of her grasp.
As Haylie’s squeals grew louder, Grace felt Dean stiffen beside her, obviously uncomfortable. “Cas. No teasing…” she warned, smiling slightly as Cas nodded slightly before handing Haylie the gift. The little girl ripped the paper impatiently, throwing the torn pieces onto the floor.
“A BUNNY! A bunny of wood!”
Grace looked at the carved rabbit that Haylie was excitedly showing everyone at the table. She knew that Cas had spent hours carving it on those evenings when he wasn’t ‘preaching’ to his harem, or too high to hold a knife. He’d told her one night that it was a hobby he’d picked up when he was laid up with his broken ankle the previous year. The boredom and pain had nearly driven the ex-angel mad, and he started carving as a way to distract himself from the fact that he felt so useless.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught Dean smiling over his coffee mug at Haylie, clearly pleased that she was happy. Grace chuckled quietly, pretending to cough when he turned to look at her. Eating her porridge, she saw Cas push a package past Dean towards her.
“You got me a gift? I thought we’d agreed that only the children were getting gifts?” Grace stared down at the gift which was tied with string, before looking up at Cas.
“They were…calling to be carved, Grace. I thought you would appreciate them.”
Them? What the hell has he…carved? Grace struggled to undo the knot, picking at it with her nails. Damnit, why’d he have to tie it so tight? Do I have to bite it undone? Dean shifted slightly in his seat, then held his knife out towards her.
“Thanks, Winchester,” she muttered, taking the knife and quickly slicing the string, placing the knife on the table in front of her. As the paper opened she gasped. Lying there were two small wooden figures, wrapped so they faced each other. They were clearly caricatures, and it took her a few seconds to recognize who they depicted. Is that… that me? …and Dean? As she ran her fingers over the carved detail of her miniature Dean suddenly reached over and picked up the other one.
“What the hell? Dolls… Cas, you’ve wasted your time carvin’ fuckin’ dolls? I guess I need to find more for you to do round here”
Grace looked across, seeing his face harden as he recognized his own features on the carving.
“Cas, I don’t know what to say. They’re…beautiful. Thank you.” Ignoring Dean, Grace smiled, turning the carving of her face in her hand. “I know exactly where to put them too.“ Dean turned and glared at her, then dropped the figure he was holding onto the table.
“There’s enough chick shit in my cabin already. These… dolls are not going anywhere in there”
“Shut up, Winchester. It’s my cabin too. If I want them displayed, they’ll be displayed,” Grace replied through gritted teeth. She knew her place as “Dean’s woman” was precarious. The first he’d actually moved in to his cabin, but certainly not the first he’d had a… connection with. However she was aware from camp gossip and glares from some of his previous conquests that she was now the only one he was “connecting” with. However, recently the situation between them had become complicated, to put it mildly.
Cas tilted his head, regarding them both with amusement. He stood, holding Haylie in his arms. “Let’s go little one and leave the grown-ups to talk. Dean, I will speak to you later. We have planning to do before we leave tonight.”
Dean nodded, finishing his coffee and standing as Cas left the kitchen with Haylie.
“I mean it, Grace. Those things appear in the cabin, they end up gone. I’ll see you at dinner.”
As Dean left, Grace began to wrap the two miniatures pausing as she realized that laid side by side, they were carved to look at each other, their expressions complimenting each other. Shaking her head as Cas’ typical lack of subtlety, she took them back to the cabin and set them on the dresser. Just you try, Winchester. Just you try.
~ * ~
The rest of the day passed quickly for everyone in the camp. Most people were in a relaxed mood, setting up decorations in the dining area or helping in the kitchen with food preparation. As dinner time approached, Grace changed into the dress that Molly had made for her and got Haylie ready, trying to explain to the little girl that that it would be a good idea to leave her wooden rabbit in the cabin…just in case. As they went to leave the cabin, Grace noticed that the clothes she’d left out for Dean were still hanging on the closet door. Sighing, she took Haylie’s hand and headed to the dining area.
~ * ~
Christmas dinner went well. She'd decided not to ask what the majority of the meat they were eating actually was, but knew that it was good for the camp to have the protein…whatever the source. Dean had arrived late, bringing a case of hooch with him which seemed to grant forgiveness in most people’s eyes. He’d avoided her throughout the meal, preferring to sit with Cas and some of the single men, spending most of his time drinking.
As it got late, Grace realised that Haylie was tiring and took her back to the cabin to sleep.
“Did you have a good day, baby?” she murmured as she carried Haylie through the doorway.
“Uh-huh. I got presents and a pretty dress,” the little girl mumbled sleepily. “…An’a new rabbit too.”
~ * ~
As she left the cabin she saw the shadow first.
“Fuck!” she yelled, as she recognized Dean’s profile. “You’re gonna have to whistle or something next time you lurk.” She leaned against the cabin wall, pressing a hand over her racing heart.
“Don’t tell me what to do, Grace. You know that pisses me off, and you won’t like me when I’m pissed,” Dean chuckled, stepping closer to her. She breathed in his scent, the soap they shared mixed with that particular earthy musk that was all his own. He handed her the bottle he’d been carrying, over a third of the contents already drunk. As she tipped her head back and drank, shivering as the alcohol burnt her throat, she felt Dean move closer until their arms were touching.
“I… uh… never thanked you for today,” he mumbled, his fingers gently touching her hand. “You were right, it was good for morale. People seemed to enjoy themselves. Friggin’ great idea of ours, babe”
She turned to look at him. “Great idea of ours? You gave me shit for weeks, and now you decide that we’ve had a good idea. You’re drunk Dean. Shouldn’t you be resting - I hear from other people that you’ve got an early fucking start.” She was disappointed at feeling so pissed at him, especially being so close to him, and knowing that it was likely she wouldn’t see him again for days, but found she couldn’t help herself from snapping at him.
“I told you. Don’t tell me what to do,” Dean growled as he twisted, holding her upper arms, as he pinned her against the cabin. Grace tried to struggle against him, but he was stronger than she was. Her heart rate increased again as he leaned down and kissed her jaw line, biting it gently. He moved his mouth to her neck, biting and sucking as she moaned, pressing herself against him, her panties starting to get wet. He pushed against her, his cock pressing against her thigh as he bit harder on her neck. Ripples of pleasure warmed her body more than the alcohol had done.
His hands left her arms, stroking down her sides over her hips, gathering her dress in his fingers. He swiftly pulled the material up round her waist, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of her panties to slide them down. As she felt the cold air on her legs and thighs, Grace shuddered, lifting one foot out of her panties leaving them bunched up around her other ankle. Dean kicked her feet apart, spreading her legs as he cupped her, feeling the heat from her pussy on his palm. His fingers slid between her lips, stroking their way towards her ass and she gasped, wriggling to move closer to him.
Closing her eyes she felt him easily slip one finger inside her. Feeling his breath on her face, she opened her eyes to see his face inches from hers. He smirked at her as he added a second finger, curving them as he slid them in and out of her. Groaning, she pushed down herself on his hand as he teased her by licking her bottom lip, finger fucking her slowly, stopping his fingers just short of that special spot. As she began to move her hips in rhythm with his hand, Grace felt his thumb rub her swollen clit, turning in circles as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of her.
She pulled his face to her, kissing him hungrily, their tongues meeting and teasing as she heard him moan, felt the vibration make her lips tingle. His hand started to move faster, pushing his fingers inside all the way inside her so she had to hold on to him for support. She continued to grind against his hand knowing that she wouldn’t be able to last much longer.
“Show me. Show me what I do for you, Grace,” Dean moaned against her mouth, before sucking on her lip, nipping it gently. Holding onto his shoulder, leaning back against the cabin wall, Grace felt her orgasm start to build in her stomach. When he twisted his fingers inside her, pressing his thumb against her, she stiffened, breathing out his name as her thighs clenched around his hand. As she came she felt her muscles quiver as her juices leaked out over his hand. Dean held his fingers inside her, watching her intently as she panted and trembled from her orgasm.
After what felt like hours to Grace, he slowly withdrew his fingers, and slipped them into his mouth. Still catching her breath, she leaned forwards kissing and licking his fingers and mouth, tasting herself on them. She reached her hands down to his belt, startled when he shook his head and pulled her hand away.
“No. As you said, I have to rest - early start an’ all,” he murmured. “Damn you woman. You make me pissed and all I can think about is fucking you.” His face hardened in the shadows as he looked at her. “I have to focus. I can’t… won’t feel this. I’m not worth whatever you feel for me and I can’t return it. You know that the most important thing for me right now is killing Lucifer, not playing happy families. I don’t belong with you.”
He pulled away from her, avoiding her eyes as she pulled her dress back down, rubbing his face with his hand, before picking the bottle up and walking away. Grace felt her legs weaken underneath her and sat on the steps to the cabin, shivering from more than the cold.
~ * ~
She woke suddenly, hearing a noise. She lay still, alone in the bed, trying to work out what she had heard, her eyes adjusting to the low light. As she lay there she focused on the dresser and saw that the wooden figures had gone. Certain they were there when she went to sleep, she cursed under her breath realizing that Dean must have come back, seen them and carried out his threat of “removing them”. The bastard. I’ll make his life hell when he comes back.
A jeep revved somewhere on camp. Realizing that the sound that woke her must have been the cabin door closing behind Dean, she rolled over, trying to get back to sleep. As she turned she heard something rustle next to her head. She opened her eyes and jumped, finding a small face staring back at her. Getting over the initial shock, she picked up the note that lay underneath the wooden figure of Dean and read it. Reading it again, she shook her head, laughing to herself. Maybe not hell then…after all it looks like he’s taken “me” with him.
As sleep began to take her again Grace smiled, her hand resting on the carved figure that had been placed to watch over her, and the note that lay underneath it. A note containing three simple words that meant more to her at that moment than any other phrase.
Where I belong.
Characters: Future!Dean Winchester/OFC, Future!Castiel
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: Episode 5x04 “The End”
Disclaimer: Everything is Kripke's and the CW's, unfortunately. Only the Mary-Sue-age belongs to me.
Word Count: 4155
Author: petbubble
Authors' notes: This was my first ever fanfic; written back at the end of 2009, and was written as part of an RP/prompt about what would Christmas feel like for someone in Camp Chitaqua who was also a part of Dean's 'life'. I hold full responsibility for all poor writing, heavy smuttage and the entire Mary-Sue feel - because when I wrote this I didn't know a thing about fanfic! (Not that I know that much more now haha!)
That day began like most others had done recently.
As the weak, early morning light began to create shadows in the room, Grace felt his absence in the bed long before she was fully awake. She exhaled, a quiet sigh that clouded in the chill room as she remembered last night. Stretching and turning under the covers, her eyes starting to adjust to the changing light, Grace focussed on the figure asleep in the chair across from the bed.
Although it was still too dark to make out many details, she already knew what she would see if the morning light were stronger. Dean would be in the clothes he'd worn yesterday and the day before, and though his face would be relaxed in sleep, there would still be a hard edge to it. She knew... she understood where this edge had come from though, and the pain that lay behind it; pain that had taken years to build, ever since Detroit. Ever since Sam. Understanding didn't mean that it wasn't still painful to see, especially now with the task Dean had set himself.
As she sat up, Dean moved and mumbled in his sleep, something that Grace couldn’t quite make out, but she immediately recognised the angry emotion behind the sound. As he shifted in the chair she tensed, holding steady until he quietened and stilled again.
She watched as Dean’s chest rose and fell steadily again, then assuring herself that he was still asleep, she pushed the covers back, shivering as the cold air nipped at those few areas of her skin that were left uncovered. Pulling a blanket from the bed, she gently laid it over him, reaching out a hand to touch his face before stopping herself only an inch or so away.
He looks so tired. She knew better than to comment on this when he was awake. Recently her ‘fearless leader’ had taken to seeing even the most innocent enquiry as an indication of weakness. Shaking her head as she grabbed her jacket and boots, she padded in her stockinged feet to the next room, remembering last night and feeling grateful she hadn’t heard Dean return to the cabin.
~ * ~
“Fuck! This is getting me nowhere,” Dean growled as he slammed the cabin door behind him. “Another demon skank, fuckin’ dead. This is taking too damn long.” The frustration was clear to read in his body language, shoulders hunched and his expression shuttered.
Looking up from the pile of bright fabric in her lap, Grace frowned, watching him as he paced across the small room wiping his bloodied hands on a rag. His profile was hard as he stared at his hands for a second, before throwing the now bloody rag onto the floor. Still ignoring her, he poured himself a glass of whiskey, gulping it quickly, before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Slamming the glass down, Dean stood glaring at the table as though the answers he needed would be found there, rather than from the demons he had recently tortured and killed.
“Where’s the damn kid?”
“Asleep…at last,” Grace replied. “Dean, what -”
“It died. Gave no information about Lucifer. Enough.”
Grace had heard the demon’s last screams, agonizing screams that sounded as if its very essence was on fire. Knowing Dean and his… skills, that was probably damn true, she thought sadly. She’d sat with Haylie for well over an hour, cradling her and singing, pretty crap, tuneless singing, to try and drown out the sound until the little girl had finally fallen asleep in her arms.
She looked up to find Dean staring at her, or more specifically at the fabric and ribbons in her lap, his expression colder than the winter air outside. As he leant down, picking up one of the small fabric wrapped gifts, her face coloured. Dean scowled at her, muttering. “Jesus Christ. Have you gone mad?”
Before she could reply, he dropped the package back in her lap, turned and grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the table.
“Going to Cas’ cabin. Don’t wait up sweetheart, I won’t be back”
~ * ~
“Hey there baby girl,” Grace whispered to the smiling face that greeted her as she entered Haylie’s room. The child’s dark curls bounced as she raised her arms at Grace, grinning widely at the greeting.
“Grace. Grace…did he been?” Haylie whispered, wide eyed as Grace wrapped her in a blanket and scooped her up into her arms.
She breathed in the fresh scent of Haylie’s hair, heart swelling at the delight in the four year old’s voice. A sound that had brightened up life in the camp ever since Dean and Cas had rescued her from the Croats that had killed her mother.
Grinning down at the blue eyed angel, she nodded. “Yes, I think he has sweetheart. You’ve been a good girl and he knew where to come.” Thank…whatever, that someone still believed enough to have told Haylie about Christmas.
As Haylie giggled talking to her stuffed rabbit toy, Grace heard the chair creak in the next room. The sound of steps approached the door, then stopped. She closed her eyes, burying her head in Haylie’s hair, knowing that the next thing she heard from there would be the cabin’s main door.
As she held her breath, listening to the child chatter to ‘Mrs Rabbit’ about good girls and rabbits and ‘him’, she heard the steps move away from the door. Damn the man…and today of all days, too.
The cabin door suddenly slammed and Grace, with a heavy feeling in her heart, lifted her face and forced herself to smile brightly at the child in her arms.
“Shall we see what Santa Claus brought you then baby girl?”
~ * ~
Even this early in the day, the communal dining area was busy. It was one of the camp’s central areas, a place where everyone eventually ended up at some point during the day, especially as the refugees tended not to sleep for long these days. After the Croatoan virus had been released, people quickly learned that sleeping heavily would probably get them killed or infected. Once they found their way to Chitaqua the habit of only catching a few hours sleep was one that most never changed. It had saved their lives, and would probably do so again.
Bread…someone’s made bread? Grace closed her eyes and breathed the yeasty, fresh baked smell, memories of… before flooding her mind. Before the thoughts could solidify, she shook her head and opened her eyes, focussing on the room in front of her - the here and now, not wasting time dwelling on the past. She smiled slightly as Haylie let go of her hand and ran towards Molly. A motherly looking woman - motherly, my ass - Molly was someone who Grace depended on, especially when it came to child care advice. Having raised three children, Molly was invaluable; offering advice on tantrums, food choices and even ideas for bedtime stories. She often wondered how Molly was able to spend so much time with them, knowing how her own children had died when the virus had started taking hold of the population.
As she filled two bowls with porridge from a pan which sat on the gas stove, Grace listened to Molly ask Haylie about the gifts that Santa had brought her. Haylie spoke excitedly about “pretty dresses” and her new toys, and showed Molly the ribbons she’d had Grace tie in her hair after unwrapping everything. As she turned towards the tables, she noticed Dean sitting at the far table with Cas and one of his team, Pete. Although all three men were talking quietly there was an air of agitation hanging over that part of the room.
Pete and Cas were talking intently, Pete shuffling in his seat as Cas leaned towards him. Dean slammed his coffee mug onto the table, speaking too low for anyone but the men at the table to hear. Pete stood, his chair scraping across the wooden floor, anger and frustration clear on his face.
“Tonight? We’re leaving tonight?” Pete spat at Dean.
Cas murmured something in reply, his hands extended towards the other two men in a conciliatory gesture.
“Tomorrow…technically. And yeah, we are. You got a problem with that?” Dean growled, slapping Cas’ hand away. “Damnit Cas, get your hand outta my face”.
“It’s Christmas. You do remember that don’t y-”
“Christmas!” Dean laughed bitterly, his mouth curling. “A day to celebrate the birth of God’s only child? The same friggin’ God that let all this happen… huh.” Picking his mug up and drinking, he looked away and caught Grace’s eye. Scowling, he held her gaze, ignoring Pete who was grabbing his jacket and turning to leave.
“Pete, you don’t turn up for this mission, you’d best have a damn good reason,” Dean said, staring down at the remains of his meal. “I have enough shit to deal with without sentimentalists”
As Pete stomped out of the kitchen, people began to talk normally again as the tension seemed to leave the room.
Grace put the bowls on the table nearest the fire, and reached behind her for the coffee pot, starting slightly as she heard Molly speak beside her.
“Sorry…I just couldn’t keep her with me when she saw they were here”
Turning at Molly’s apologetic tone, Grace winced as she saw Haylie weaving between people and chairs to where Dean and Cas were sitting. Oh damn, Haylie. Please behave? She felt Molly’s hand on her arm, as she started to move. “No, let her go. Probably what’s needed…they’ve been arguing for an hour now”
“G’mornin’ Cas. You have to give me my present now,” Haylie declared, standing beside his chair. “It is Christmas now, and I have been good. Yes…Grace says so” This last sentence was said with a sense of satisfaction as she looked up at him. Biting her bottom lip Grace tried not to laugh as she watched Cas turn in his chair to look down at the little girl, a puzzled expression on his face.
“A present? I believe the tradition is that Father Christmas brings those, child. And were you being good last week when I found an amphibian in my shoe?”
“Cas-tee-elll,” Haylie rolled her eyes as she over-emphasised his name. “It was a froggie, not a man…, man… fib… ium.” As she struggled over the unfamiliar word, she had climbed onto Cas’ lap, his arms automatically circling her to stop her falling.
“Haylie, you should be eatin’ your breakfast and not using Cas as a jungle-gym,” growled Dean, a look of annoyance crossing his face. Haylie twisted in Cas’ lap to look at him, tilted her head then quickly scrunched up her face and poked her tongue out. Grace watched as a flicker of astonishment softened Dean’s face, his eyes widening before he poked his tongue out at Haylie who giggled in return.
“What?” Dean grumbled, as everyone burst out laughing. “Never seen a frig- I mean a tongue before? Jesus calm down people and eat your food.” He looked directly at Grace as he said this, flicking his eyes to the seat beside him, the invitation clear. Without looking at her, Dean pushed his empty mug in front of her as she sat and she had to hold back the sigh that threatened as she refilled it with coffee. As he drank Haylie squealed in delight when Cas lifted a small package from his pocket, holding it just out of her reach.
Her eyes wide she squirmed on his lap, stretching towards the present as Cas chuckled, teasing her by keeping it just out of her grasp.
As Haylie’s squeals grew louder, Grace felt Dean stiffen beside her, obviously uncomfortable. “Cas. No teasing…” she warned, smiling slightly as Cas nodded slightly before handing Haylie the gift. The little girl ripped the paper impatiently, throwing the torn pieces onto the floor.
“A BUNNY! A bunny of wood!”
Grace looked at the carved rabbit that Haylie was excitedly showing everyone at the table. She knew that Cas had spent hours carving it on those evenings when he wasn’t ‘preaching’ to his harem, or too high to hold a knife. He’d told her one night that it was a hobby he’d picked up when he was laid up with his broken ankle the previous year. The boredom and pain had nearly driven the ex-angel mad, and he started carving as a way to distract himself from the fact that he felt so useless.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught Dean smiling over his coffee mug at Haylie, clearly pleased that she was happy. Grace chuckled quietly, pretending to cough when he turned to look at her. Eating her porridge, she saw Cas push a package past Dean towards her.
“You got me a gift? I thought we’d agreed that only the children were getting gifts?” Grace stared down at the gift which was tied with string, before looking up at Cas.
“They were…calling to be carved, Grace. I thought you would appreciate them.”
Them? What the hell has he…carved? Grace struggled to undo the knot, picking at it with her nails. Damnit, why’d he have to tie it so tight? Do I have to bite it undone? Dean shifted slightly in his seat, then held his knife out towards her.
“Thanks, Winchester,” she muttered, taking the knife and quickly slicing the string, placing the knife on the table in front of her. As the paper opened she gasped. Lying there were two small wooden figures, wrapped so they faced each other. They were clearly caricatures, and it took her a few seconds to recognize who they depicted. Is that… that me? …and Dean? As she ran her fingers over the carved detail of her miniature Dean suddenly reached over and picked up the other one.
“What the hell? Dolls… Cas, you’ve wasted your time carvin’ fuckin’ dolls? I guess I need to find more for you to do round here”
Grace looked across, seeing his face harden as he recognized his own features on the carving.
“Cas, I don’t know what to say. They’re…beautiful. Thank you.” Ignoring Dean, Grace smiled, turning the carving of her face in her hand. “I know exactly where to put them too.“ Dean turned and glared at her, then dropped the figure he was holding onto the table.
“There’s enough chick shit in my cabin already. These… dolls are not going anywhere in there”
“Shut up, Winchester. It’s my cabin too. If I want them displayed, they’ll be displayed,” Grace replied through gritted teeth. She knew her place as “Dean’s woman” was precarious. The first he’d actually moved in to his cabin, but certainly not the first he’d had a… connection with. However she was aware from camp gossip and glares from some of his previous conquests that she was now the only one he was “connecting” with. However, recently the situation between them had become complicated, to put it mildly.
Cas tilted his head, regarding them both with amusement. He stood, holding Haylie in his arms. “Let’s go little one and leave the grown-ups to talk. Dean, I will speak to you later. We have planning to do before we leave tonight.”
Dean nodded, finishing his coffee and standing as Cas left the kitchen with Haylie.
“I mean it, Grace. Those things appear in the cabin, they end up gone. I’ll see you at dinner.”
As Dean left, Grace began to wrap the two miniatures pausing as she realized that laid side by side, they were carved to look at each other, their expressions complimenting each other. Shaking her head as Cas’ typical lack of subtlety, she took them back to the cabin and set them on the dresser. Just you try, Winchester. Just you try.
~ * ~
The rest of the day passed quickly for everyone in the camp. Most people were in a relaxed mood, setting up decorations in the dining area or helping in the kitchen with food preparation. As dinner time approached, Grace changed into the dress that Molly had made for her and got Haylie ready, trying to explain to the little girl that that it would be a good idea to leave her wooden rabbit in the cabin…just in case. As they went to leave the cabin, Grace noticed that the clothes she’d left out for Dean were still hanging on the closet door. Sighing, she took Haylie’s hand and headed to the dining area.
~ * ~
Christmas dinner went well. She'd decided not to ask what the majority of the meat they were eating actually was, but knew that it was good for the camp to have the protein…whatever the source. Dean had arrived late, bringing a case of hooch with him which seemed to grant forgiveness in most people’s eyes. He’d avoided her throughout the meal, preferring to sit with Cas and some of the single men, spending most of his time drinking.
As it got late, Grace realised that Haylie was tiring and took her back to the cabin to sleep.
“Did you have a good day, baby?” she murmured as she carried Haylie through the doorway.
“Uh-huh. I got presents and a pretty dress,” the little girl mumbled sleepily. “…An’a new rabbit too.”
~ * ~
As she left the cabin she saw the shadow first.
“Fuck!” she yelled, as she recognized Dean’s profile. “You’re gonna have to whistle or something next time you lurk.” She leaned against the cabin wall, pressing a hand over her racing heart.
“Don’t tell me what to do, Grace. You know that pisses me off, and you won’t like me when I’m pissed,” Dean chuckled, stepping closer to her. She breathed in his scent, the soap they shared mixed with that particular earthy musk that was all his own. He handed her the bottle he’d been carrying, over a third of the contents already drunk. As she tipped her head back and drank, shivering as the alcohol burnt her throat, she felt Dean move closer until their arms were touching.
“I… uh… never thanked you for today,” he mumbled, his fingers gently touching her hand. “You were right, it was good for morale. People seemed to enjoy themselves. Friggin’ great idea of ours, babe”
She turned to look at him. “Great idea of ours? You gave me shit for weeks, and now you decide that we’ve had a good idea. You’re drunk Dean. Shouldn’t you be resting - I hear from other people that you’ve got an early fucking start.” She was disappointed at feeling so pissed at him, especially being so close to him, and knowing that it was likely she wouldn’t see him again for days, but found she couldn’t help herself from snapping at him.
“I told you. Don’t tell me what to do,” Dean growled as he twisted, holding her upper arms, as he pinned her against the cabin. Grace tried to struggle against him, but he was stronger than she was. Her heart rate increased again as he leaned down and kissed her jaw line, biting it gently. He moved his mouth to her neck, biting and sucking as she moaned, pressing herself against him, her panties starting to get wet. He pushed against her, his cock pressing against her thigh as he bit harder on her neck. Ripples of pleasure warmed her body more than the alcohol had done.
His hands left her arms, stroking down her sides over her hips, gathering her dress in his fingers. He swiftly pulled the material up round her waist, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of her panties to slide them down. As she felt the cold air on her legs and thighs, Grace shuddered, lifting one foot out of her panties leaving them bunched up around her other ankle. Dean kicked her feet apart, spreading her legs as he cupped her, feeling the heat from her pussy on his palm. His fingers slid between her lips, stroking their way towards her ass and she gasped, wriggling to move closer to him.
Closing her eyes she felt him easily slip one finger inside her. Feeling his breath on her face, she opened her eyes to see his face inches from hers. He smirked at her as he added a second finger, curving them as he slid them in and out of her. Groaning, she pushed down herself on his hand as he teased her by licking her bottom lip, finger fucking her slowly, stopping his fingers just short of that special spot. As she began to move her hips in rhythm with his hand, Grace felt his thumb rub her swollen clit, turning in circles as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of her.
She pulled his face to her, kissing him hungrily, their tongues meeting and teasing as she heard him moan, felt the vibration make her lips tingle. His hand started to move faster, pushing his fingers inside all the way inside her so she had to hold on to him for support. She continued to grind against his hand knowing that she wouldn’t be able to last much longer.
“Show me. Show me what I do for you, Grace,” Dean moaned against her mouth, before sucking on her lip, nipping it gently. Holding onto his shoulder, leaning back against the cabin wall, Grace felt her orgasm start to build in her stomach. When he twisted his fingers inside her, pressing his thumb against her, she stiffened, breathing out his name as her thighs clenched around his hand. As she came she felt her muscles quiver as her juices leaked out over his hand. Dean held his fingers inside her, watching her intently as she panted and trembled from her orgasm.
After what felt like hours to Grace, he slowly withdrew his fingers, and slipped them into his mouth. Still catching her breath, she leaned forwards kissing and licking his fingers and mouth, tasting herself on them. She reached her hands down to his belt, startled when he shook his head and pulled her hand away.
“No. As you said, I have to rest - early start an’ all,” he murmured. “Damn you woman. You make me pissed and all I can think about is fucking you.” His face hardened in the shadows as he looked at her. “I have to focus. I can’t… won’t feel this. I’m not worth whatever you feel for me and I can’t return it. You know that the most important thing for me right now is killing Lucifer, not playing happy families. I don’t belong with you.”
He pulled away from her, avoiding her eyes as she pulled her dress back down, rubbing his face with his hand, before picking the bottle up and walking away. Grace felt her legs weaken underneath her and sat on the steps to the cabin, shivering from more than the cold.
~ * ~
She woke suddenly, hearing a noise. She lay still, alone in the bed, trying to work out what she had heard, her eyes adjusting to the low light. As she lay there she focused on the dresser and saw that the wooden figures had gone. Certain they were there when she went to sleep, she cursed under her breath realizing that Dean must have come back, seen them and carried out his threat of “removing them”. The bastard. I’ll make his life hell when he comes back.
A jeep revved somewhere on camp. Realizing that the sound that woke her must have been the cabin door closing behind Dean, she rolled over, trying to get back to sleep. As she turned she heard something rustle next to her head. She opened her eyes and jumped, finding a small face staring back at her. Getting over the initial shock, she picked up the note that lay underneath the wooden figure of Dean and read it. Reading it again, she shook her head, laughing to herself. Maybe not hell then…after all it looks like he’s taken “me” with him.
As sleep began to take her again Grace smiled, her hand resting on the carved figure that had been placed to watch over her, and the note that lay underneath it. A note containing three simple words that meant more to her at that moment than any other phrase.
Where I belong.