Taking Root 24 and 25

[smoothiegarten]

Authors: Marina and Casey
Story: Taking Root
Toppings/Extras: Caramel, Chopped Nuts, Smoothie (for both parts)
Word Count: 5,410 (for both parts together)
Rating: PG
Notes: I am posting 24 and 25 together because they're really two halves of one piece, as you'll see. The TR version of this reveal is probably a bit less realistic than canon, but as TR in general is a HUGE self-indulgence for both of us, we're letting it slide this time. (Part 2 is also a good summary of the events of DW.)

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Challenge: Coconut 23 (call me), Tangerine 14 (constructive criticism) [Marina]; Blueberry Yogurt 25 (make a wish) [Casey]
Summary: Dean and Carrie visit Chase at home.

Dean made sure he smiled at all the right moments as Resh, Nicole, Sidney and Kenz chattered around him and Carrie as they gathered outside the entrance at the end of school on Monday. He noted that Carrie also stayed quiet and silently wished their well-meaning friends would head home. His head pounded in time with most of the words, making it hard to even pretend to be interested or that the guilt wasn't still munching happily on his insides.

Finally, Carrie put an end to it. "We're going to go," she said pointedly.

Sidney looked a bit disappointed. "Okay," she said. "I hope Chase is all right."

"We'll let him know you all wish him well," Dean said, cutting off the others before they could add their own comments in, which they'd already done multiple times throughout the day. He absently checked to make sure his brand new cell phone was tucked in his pocket, although he had already stopped to fill his dad in on the plans. Sorin had smiled and reminded him that he didn't have to account for every minute like he used to. Dean didn't bother to tell him that he was still more than a little convinced Edward couldn't possibly be dead after having to look over his shoulder since before he remembered. He kept hearing all the horrific things Edward had said to him on Friday, no matter how hard he tried to put them out of his mind.

Carrie waved the others off and glanced at Dean. "Did you bike in today or are we walking?" he asked, heading towards the bike rack anyway, just to put some distance between them and the others. He could still feel four sets of eyes on their backs.

"My mom drove me," said Carrie. "We were going to pick up Chase, but he changed his mind about coming at the last minute. I kind of figured he would." She shoved her hands in her jacket pockets and looked at the ground as they went.

He nodded. "Dad drove me in today too. He didn't think I should bike with my hand." He waved his left hand-which had all the fingers but his thumb splinted together-briefly. "But Dad insisted on bringing my bike in case I wanted it after school."

"Your dad's probably right," said Carrie, with a very faint smile.

"I didn't argue. It's kind of hard to grip anything right now," he said, as lightly as he could manage, which, he decided as it came out, was a pretty pathetic attempt.

"Which is really understandable."

"Yeah."

Carrie led the way out the back of the school and down Palm Avenue, toward the Mitchells' condo. She didn't seem inclined to speak. He was really okay with that, not sure what he'd say if she were. They had spoken in private twice during the school day, but both had restricted it to the basics. Dean was fairly certain Carrie's guilt was also probably attempting to chew her up from the inside out, but he wasn't sure what he could say that might help.

Finally, at the end of the half-mile walk, they arrived on Chase's doorstep. Carrie checked under the mattress for the spare key and unlocked the door. "I wouldn't normally," she explained, "but if Chase was feeling bad enough not to come to school, he probably doesn't want to get up. Chase! It's me and Dean!"

"I'm in the living room," Chase called back.

Dean followed Carrie in, not as familiar with Chase's house as some of the others. "Hey," he said as they entered.

Chase was sitting on the couch, armed with a stack of comic books and a half-empty glass of chocolate milk on the nearby coffee table. Sitting on his uninjured leg was a pink-and-yellow stuffed rabbit. "Hey, guys," he said, forcing a smile on his face.

"How're you doing?" asked Carrie.

"I'm okay. You?"

Dean shrugged. He still wasn't sure what he thought. Although he'd managed to walk away with only bruises besides his two fingers, he ached everywhere and didn't feel particularly fortunate. Then there was the fact that Edward, like it or not, was...had been his grandfather, and it was his fault Chase was in this position and even his fault that Carrie felt so awful.

"We brought your homework," Carrie volunteered.

Chase groaned. "Great."

Dean smiled faintly at that. "You'll thank us later."

"I will never thank anyone for homework," Chase retorted, with a bit of the old spark. Carrie smirked.

"Didn't say you'd do it out loud," Dean replied, amused. "But we all know, deep down, you will."

"There is nowhere in my body that will ever be thankful for homework. Ugh." Chase shuddered visibly.

"Fine, then next time we won't bring it and you can be behind," Dean said cheerfully.

"Hate you."

"No, you don't," said Carrie, looking deeply amused.

Dean found himself grinning. "Yeah, I call BS too."

Chase rolled his eyes. "Did you two just come here to torment me?"

Dean made a point of looking at Carrie and then back at Chase. "What other possible reason would there be?"

"I guess there might be some artwork too," said Carrie, rather dramatically, as she reached into her book bag.

Chase immediately held up a hand. "Me, please!" She smiled a bit and handed him her sketchbook, watching as he eagerly leafed through it. Dean perched himself on the arm of one of the chairs, smiling also. After a moment, Chase beamed. "I love this picture of Sir Armor!"

"Really?" asked Carrie. "I didn't know if you'd like his outfit."

"No, it's great. Really awesome." After a bit more ogling, Chase reluctantly shut the sketchbook and handed it back to Carrie. "Thanks."

"Sure," she said, with a smile.

"Oh," Dean said, suddenly remembering the tracking bracelet in his pocket. He pulled it out and handed it to Chase. "This is yours. I forgot to return it."

Chase accepted it, looked at it for a moment, and then tossed it on the coffee table beside the comic books. "Thanks," he said, but his good humor had disappeared again.

Dean cringed mentally at killing the first lighthearted mood since Friday. "Yeah, didn't want to forget." he said, trying to keep things light.

Chase shrugged. "Don't think it matters anymore. Well, I guess it would to my dad."

"How's your leg?" Carrie asked.

"It's okay. I've been walking on it a little bit. I'll probably go to school tomorrow."

"Good to hear," Dean said, then added, a touch dryly, "The others were all asking about you and wanted us to let you know they send all the well wishes in the world and then some."

Chase gave them a lopsided smile. "Yeah, I bet. How much do they know?"

"I let them all know when you two went missing," said Carrie, "and called them in the morning after the hospital, but I figured Dean should be the one to talk about the details if he wanted."

When Chase's attention turned to Dean, he shrugged again. "I couldn't today. I...will at some point."

"You don't have to if you don't want," said Chase.

His tone made Dean wonder how many of the details Carrie had gotten. Dean had not dared to say much, and Chase was being his usual taciturn self. "We'll see," he said, noncommittally.

"Seriously," said Chase. "They're great, but a lot of stuff's none of their business."

Carrie snorted. "Nic and Resh aren't going to shut up, though."

"Don't care."

"They mean well enough," Dean said slowly. "I just...can't right now."

Chase nodded in a scarily empathetic way, and let his head drop to the side, to rest on the back of the couch. Dean bit his lip, looking down at his lap, although his curiosity about whatever it was that had Carrie and Chase acting odd on occasion was freshly piqued. There had been several moments the previous Friday where he had almost asked, but they had had more important and immediate things to worry about then.

"Can we get you anything while we're here?" asked Carrie.

"No, I'm not done with my chocolate milk yet," said Chase. He glanced at Dean without moving his head. "How's your hand?"

"Okay. Makes thing a little difficult and it aches most of the time, but so does the rest of me, so I don't notice until I want my hand."

"You right-handed or left-handed?"

"Right-handed, thankfully."

"Yeah, that's good Edward didn't know that. I guess not, anyway."

"Not sure he cared. I think he just grabbed the nearest hand."

Chase made a face. "Creeper."

He snorted, amused despite himself. "That's one word for him."

"How bad was it?" Carrie asked, tentatively.

Chase shrugged, looking troubled. "For me it was mostly just panic attacks and getting shot...I didn't really talk to him." Carrie shot him an odd look, but he just shrugged again, not looking at her. Dean pursed his lips, watching the two but not anxious to answer the question himself, trying to formulate a response.

"Don't say that like it's normal," Carrie said, after a moment.

"Excuse me for trying not to freak out further," Chase shot back. His voice was the only thing about him with any energy.

It was enough, though. "Sorry," she said. "I just...oh, never mind." Dean cringed, good hand clenching around the fabric of his jeans tightly.

The other boy looked between them during an uncomfortable silence, and then straightened. "Okay, look," he said, "I really don't blame either of you, okay? It was Edward's fault and he's gone now."

Dean's shoulders hunched automatically. He couldn't understand how Chase didn't, or couldn't. "I should have," he started, "I could have done something more. Should have. He is my...was my..." he trailed off, headache making it hard to think as he rubbed his forehead wishing it would go away.

"He was stupid," Chase said. "That's not your fault."

Before Dean could reply, Carrie was on her feet, fists clenched. The guilt seemed to have disappeared for a moment, but in its place, he saw anger. "Are you kidding me right now?" she ground out.

Chase looked surprised. "Carrie-"

"You are such a hypocrite, Chase," she snapped, not letting him finish. "You have no business trying to tell us not to feel guilty when you can't stop, yourself!" Dean started at the venom in Carrie's voice, almost sliding off the arm of the chair. He could do nothing but stare. This was a completely different side of Carrie, one he had never imagined existed.

"That's different," Chase shot back. He seemed just as shocked.

"It's no different."

"You didn't know-" began Chase, moving as if to stand up.

"Neither did you!" Carrie yelled. "For God's sake, Chase. Haven't you realized by now that none of that was remotely your fault? Laura's never blamed you and neither have the rest of us, so there's no reason for you to blame yourself." She glared at him, seeming to stun him into silence. "I'm really tired of it. Move on already and stop hurting yourself, damn it!"

Chase stared back at her, completely furious, for a long moment. Then, he carefully levered himself off the couch and hobbled toward the bathroom door. A few seconds later, Dean and Carrie heard the door slam. Dean's eyes were wide as he stared between Carrie and the door Chase had just exited out of, speechless and feeling like he was suddenly very much intruding.

Carrie watched the door in silence, biting her lip, but there was still fire in her eyes. She glanced away and jumped at catching sight of Dean. "Oh, shit," she muttered. "Sorry, Dean."

"Uh, no, it's, um, I'm sorry. Should I go?" he asked awkwardly.

"No, I shouldn't have said any of that. Not with you here, at least." She plopped down to a seat on the couch, covering her face with her hands. "Ugh, this is awful."

Dean hesitated, not sure what to do, before quietly moving over and sitting down next to her.

"He's just..." Carrie shook her head without lifting it, but her voice sounded suspiciously chokey. "He's just so goddamn stupid sometimes, and he should know better but he just doesn’t, and I'm so sick of watching it and I'm terrified of what's going to happen to him eventually. And he doesn't get it at all."

"I...I think maybe he gets it more than you think," Dean said carefully, "but that doesn't make it any easier to...to prevent, I guess. I mean, rationally, do I understand what Edward did was not my fault? Yes. But that doesn't mean I can help blaming myself anyway."

"But there was literally nothing he could've done!" Carrie spread her hands as if in desperation. "He tried, I know he did, but..." She let out a breath. "This would probably make more sense if you knew what the hell we were talking about."

Dean felt himself shrug. "Yeah, probably, but that's fine," he said, although his curiosity had managed to surge so much it had almost momentarily eclipsed the guilt. But just as Chase had said, it was their story to give the details, just as it was his to share or not about Edward.

She shook her head again. "It's not fair not to tell you at this point." She glanced at the bathroom. "I should probably go talk to him first, though."

"Yeah, you should. I'll wait here."

"Okay." She pushed herself up and shuffled over to the bathroom. "Chase?" she called, tapping on the door.

"What?"

Carrie winced. "I'm sorry, okay? That was uncalled for."

After a pause, the door opened a crack and Chase ambled out of it far enough to let Carrie hug him. "I love you," she said quietly. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah, I know," he muttered.

Dean watched them silently, wondering if Chase would be okay with Carrie’s unilateral decision to tell him whatever it was that they held so closely guarded.

When they pulled apart, Chase didn't look at her or at Dean. "Chase," Carrie started.

He shook his head. "Just tell him," he said quietly. Apparently, he had heard the whole thing.

Dean stood, biting absently on his lip. "You don't have to," he heard himself say.

"Just promise not to think we're crazy, okay?" Chase's voice seemed to regress to around age twelve as he spoke.

He blinked and then nodded. "Promise," he said firmly. These two had, in six short weeks, become his best friends and he couldn't imagine anything that would break that at this point.

"Okay," said Carrie, with a slight smile. "You might want to sit down, then."

He looked between them and then sank back onto the couch.

Challenge: Coconut 26 (let’s pretend), Tangerine 23 (testimony) [Marina]; Blueberry Yogurt 4 (a promise), Apple Pie 7 (simplicity) [Casey]
Summary: Dean finally gets the story.

Chase limped back to his seat on the couch, and Carrie took a nearby chair. "So, as you've probably guessed, since you're so clever and all," she began, "this story has to do with how Chase and I met. Four years ago last summer, the two of us, plus Laura, Kevin, and Chase and Laura's cousin Aaron, whom you haven't met, were all kidnapped and were missing for eleven days."

"I'd...I'd heard rumors to that effect," Dean said slowly when it seemed Carrie was looking for a response. Chase shut his eyes, waiting for the inevitable outburst that would occur when Carrie got to the reason they hadn't told him before. If anyone could make it sound rational, it was Carrie. He just wasn't sure it was really possible.

"You probably would have heard something more than rumors before if we...well, no one outside of the five of us knows what really happened because we never told. And we never told because it's...really unbelievable." She hesitated.

Dean watched her. "Okay?" he prompted after a moment.

She sighed. "Okay. There's no not-crazy way to say this. We were in a parallel world. The guy who took us used magic to do it."

Dean stared, first at her and then at Chase before returning his gaze to her. "How?"

Chase winced and hunched up in his seat. "There are...apparently holes between our world and other, alternate ones," Carrie said, haltingly. "He found the one that led to ours and sent...what did they say, Chase, magical lures?"

He nodded. "Something like that."

"He sent magical lures over here to find five children and drag them back there. And we were the ones that got found. We bought these secondhand stuffed dragons in a toy store, and once we'd named them all..." Carrie shrugged. "We got pulled right through."

"Okay...I'm...with you so far," Dean said slowly.

Carrie barreled right on in a rush, still looking a little afraid. "It turned out that the guy's name was Geran, and he needed children specifically for...well, he was the ruler of a small country known as the North, and there was another country called the South that he was angry with, so he wanted to attack them. The South had a magical barrier that kept hostiles out, except for children under the age of seventeen, who could get in no matter what. So Geran needed children to attack them, only there weren't any in the North because of a law that stated children had to be raised in the South for protection. We were kind of an experiment. That sort of failed, since we ended up on a mountain near the portal instead of directly in his fortress. But he sent some of his soldiers after us. And that was when we found out that there were real dragons in that world. A couple of them tried to come and save us but the soldiers got me and Chase and took us to Geran."

Dean nodded, staying silent this time, taking his gaze off Carrie only long enough to glance briefly at Chase, expression enough of a muddle that Chase couldn't begin to read it. Chase cringed again. He felt as though he should be helping with the story, but Carrie was doing well enough, and he couldn't even begin to think how to contribute.

"So then we tried to escape, but I was the only one who got out," said Carrie. A twinge of guilt passed over her face. "And Chase..."

"Geran tried to make me go down and kidnap his younger brother for him," Chase made himself say, when she trailed off. He stared straight at his knees. "And I wouldn't, because it meant hurting people. So he brainwashed me."

"Suppressed his memories," Carrie said quickly.

"Same thing," muttered Chase.

"What happened?" Dean asked softly.

"Nothing he had any control over," Carrie said, before Chase could try. "Geran sent him on a couple attempts to get the boy. Neither was successful. Chase had come back from the first by the time Geran managed to grab me and Laura and Kevin and this woman named Willow who lived in the South and was trying to help us. Geran...wanted to make Laura submit, so he let her see Chase, I guess to prove how pointless it was. He didn't know her, so when she tried to make him remember, he hurt her."

"Almost killed her," Chase said flatly.

"But...she's okay, right? I mean, she seemed it the two times I met her," Dean said cautiously.

"She's fine now," said Chase. The words came out more harshly than he meant them to, but it hurt so much to remember. "Willow was a magic user, too. She healed everyone before we left."

Carrie cleared her throat. "Geran stopped him from killing her, then sent him back to the South. He was...kind of running on Geran's magic, for strength? So he had to be surprised to be stopped. He took out a couple of guards and nearly knocked out Aaron, who'd gone there to beg the Southern leader to help us."

"But then one of their magic users stopped me and got the magic out," finished Chase. Again, Dean nodded slowly.

Carrie finished the story on her own, explaining how Aaron, Chase, Reuben, and Wyn had come up to the North to help, getting rid of the barrier in the process because what they had done equated to a declaration of war. "Once they had overpowered Geran and this other woman who was working for him, we were able to go home."

"And you've never told anyone. What did you tell people?" Dean asked.

"A really, really watered down version of the truth," Carrie said. "Nothing, to most people. It wasn’t their business. Kenz knows some of it because she and I have been really good friends since elementary school, but…not many others."

"Makes sense, I guess." He rubbed at his forehead. "That's...a lot to take in."

"S'why we lied," Chase said quietly.

"I'm not sure I blame you. And I thought my story was out there," Dean said and then hastened on, like he was afraid they might take offense. "You know, this...it makes a lot of stuff make sense." He looked at Chase. "Especially from Friday night."

Chase bit his lip. He found he still couldn't quite meet Dean's eye. "I've had panic attacks ever since," he said. "Well, I was getting better. Before...Wednesday...I hadn't had one in two years."

Dean cringed. "Jesus, Chase, I'm sorry."

He shook his head. "I'm just messed up." He pressed his face into his knees. "Really, really messed up."

The other boy touched his shoulder. "There's nothing really wrong with that, all things considered. I get messed up, honestly."

"Yeah, I know that now." It didn't really make him feel better.

"So...you believe us," said Carrie slowly.

"I...can't not. I mean, it's only been six weeks, but I'm pretty sure I know both of you well enough to know you wouldn't make something like this up."

"Thanks, that's reassuring."

"Just the truth," Dean said.

Chase looked up to see Carrie nod. "Okay," she said. "Just...don't tell anyone else, either."

He blinked, looking taken aback. "Of course not!"

"Okay. Because the rest of them don't know, not even Kenz or Sidney."

"I won't. Promise."

"All right." Carrie glanced at Chase.

Chase didn't really know what else to say, then. He didn't want the conversation to lapse back on the subject of blame. Logically, he knew what he had done wasn't really his fault. He knew it. And yet... He shook his head slightly and laid his head down again.

After a brief moment of silence, Carrie's pocket began humming "Für Elise." She groaned and got up, pulling her phone out of it. "That's my mom, hang on." She quickly hopped up the stairs to take the call in semi-private.

Dean watched her go silently. Chase didn't even bother raising his head.

After a moment, Dean spoke. "I'm going to talk to my dad tonight. After our conversation the other night. I don't...I don't think I can really...live until I've gotten past Edward and I don't think I can do that without help."

"Therapy, you mean," Chase said quietly.

"Yeah," he said, looking down at his splinted hand, "I think I need to at least try it."

"Maybe." Chase still wasn't willing to look at him. "The only one of us who's ever been is Kevin. Laura says he used to talk all the time about how much he hated it."

"My cousin has gone as long as I've really known her because her dad did a pretty good job screwing her up when she was little and she's told me that it depends on the therapist you get."

Chase thought about this. "Maybe," he conceded. "A friend of my dad's is a psychiatrist. They've been trying to get me to go for years."

Dean nodded. "If...if we both went, we'd have support. Not to push you, but if you did..."

Taking a moment to carefully consider this idea, Chase had to admit that going at the same time as Dean wasn't nearly as terrifying as the idea of going by himself. He bit his lip. "Yeah, we would."

"Just something to think about, I guess," he said, a touch nervously, good hand clenched in his jeans.

"I just...don't want to try it and have the person tell me it's something except what it is or just plain not get it," Chase said, darting a quick look at Dean.

He nodded again. "I think they'll get it. I mean, that's what they've trained for."

"Guess I won't know unless I try it."

"That was my thought," Dean admitted. "Figured it couldn't do any harm."

"And it'll be better to have someone else."

"Yeah, I think so."

He took a deep breath. "Okay, let's do it."

Dean studied him and then nodded, grip on his jeans loosening. "Deal."

Chase gave him a very faint smile in return. His friend matched it, meeting his eyes. "Still terrified," said Chase.

"You 'n' me both."

His smile widened a bit. "Careful, you're starting to sound like Resh."

"Resh does not have a monopoly on not always talking properly," Dean said, a bit of amusement sneaking onto his face.

"It's just not really like you," Chase retorted.

"Sometimes the situation makes it appropriate, okay?" he replied, smile widening.

Chase grinned. "No, it's not okay."

"Down, boys," Carrie called, as she descended the steps again. She had a deeply amused look on her face.

"Better be okay!" Dean retorted, flashing Carrie a smile. Chase stuck out his tongue at the other boy.

"Anyway," Carrie said, a bit too loudly, "I have to drop by the hotel and see my mom about something, so I should get going."

"All right," Dean said. "We'll see you later. Chase and I promise not to argue about stupid matters for too long."

"Says you," said Chase.

Carrie snickered. "Are you going to be okay, Chase?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine." He smiled, and surprised himself when he found he honestly meant it. He hadn't been at all sure that he would be before their visit, but talking to Dean had a funny way of calming him down about a few things. Maybe, just maybe, there were more people who could be trusted than he had thought.

"Okay." She hopped over and gave him a tight hug, then looked at Dean. "Walk me out?"

"Sure," Dean said, obviously feeling better too. He jumped to his feet.

Chase watched as they moved toward the door and waved back when Carrie lifted a hand in salute. Then they disappeared. He opened a comic book and picked up his chocolate milk again, settling in to wait for Dean.

***

Dean walked with Carrie out the front door, curious if she had something in particular to say, feeling better about his guilt now. "You're allowed to go home alone now, right?" she asked, looking slightly concerned.

He blinked. "Oh. Yeah, I suppose I am. I figured I'd give Dad a call anyway since he might well be able to pick me up on his way home." He waved a hand. "I'm not that far anyway."

She nodded. "I just wanted to make sure before I abandoned you."

He smiled, happy to feel it come easier than it had since Wednesday. "Appreciated."

"Sure," she said, returning it.

"Look, Carrie," he said, a little nervous about how she might respond after watching her blow up at Chase, "I know you got mad at Chase earlier for his comments about blame, but he's right even if a hypocrite. None of this was your fault."

She exhaled, then looked up at him. "It wasn't that he was wrong."

"Oh?"

"I mean, I know, rationally, that...that the timing was just unfortunate, I guess." She shrugged. "Even though I really shouldn't have done it anyway, like Peter said when I told them."

"Timing didn't even really matter," Dean said. "Edward was on to Dad and me. If it hadn't been Friday, it would have been Saturday or yesterday."

Carrie frowned a bit. "Then I guess I'm glad it was Friday when Chase was there. Not that I wanted that to happen to Chase, again, but...they found you that much faster."

He stared at her for a moment before letting out a slight laugh. "I guess that's one way to look at it."

"I always look at things outside the box," she said modestly.

"One of the many things I like about you," he replied, smile widening.

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh really? And what other things do you like about me?"

He grinned. "It'd take an awfully long time to list them and Chase is waiting."

"We'll have to have a listing-things session later, then."

"I'm there."

"Me too."

"You okay?" he asked a bit more seriously.

Carrie tucked her hands in her pockets again. Her eyes flicked briefly toward the ground before meeting his again. "You don't...recover from something like this right away," she said carefully. "It takes time. A lot of time."

He let out a breath. "Don't need to tell me that." He was tempted to blurt about counseling but decided to wait for the moment, since it now involved Chase as well.

"No, I know. I'm just telling you from experience." The corner of her mouth quirked in a wry half-smile. "Having said that, I suppose I'm feeling a little better. Are you?"

"Yeah, I think I am," he said in a little surprise. "Not a lot. The guilt's still there, but...I am a little better."

She nodded. "I get that."

"I don't like that you and Chase got involved, but...I think it's helping me now."

"As long as it's helping."

"It is. You two are...you're amazing."

Her smile widened to a grin. "You're pretty amazing yourself, Dean."

"Thanks," he said and leaned forward to kiss her on the cheek.

Carrie let him, but as he started to pull away, she stopped him by curling a hand around the back of his neck. He blinked, stopping and holding her gaze. "I really do think you're pretty great," she said seriously. "Especially after all this."

Dean felt a blush creep up his cheeks. "Didn't do much, really, but thanks."

She laughed. "Oh, Dean."

The blush increased. "What?"

"Nothing." Her other hand came up to rest on his shoulder as she leaned up and kissed him.

To say he was startled was probably an understatement, but he also was not about to complain about a kiss. Although the little rational part of his brain wondered if this meant they were official, he reminded himself that the kiss itself was more than enough to focus on and he let himself enjoy it fully. She pulled away very slowly after what seemed too short a time, but only far enough to look him in the eye. Then, she seemed at a loss for words.

"That..." Dean started and then leaned forward and briefly kissed her again. "That was..." He grinned. "Can we do that again? A lot?"

She seemed startled, but the expression disappeared quickly. "I am so okay with that, you do not even know."

"Yeah?" he asked hopefully.

"Yeah."

"I...guess that makes us official then?" he asked slowly.

"Yeah, I think this afternoon pretty much sealed the deal," she said. "But, um...I'm going to tell Chase this time, okay?"

He burst out laughing, unable to help himself. "Absolutely."

"Don't you laugh at me, mister," she said, attempting to be stern, but not quite managing it.

"I'm not. Or at least not much." He grinned at her, fairly certain she was incapable of not returning it.

His suspicion proved correct. "Shut up and kiss me again."

"If you insist," he said and did precisely as ordered.

When Carrie finally left and Dean forced himself not to watch her in favor of going back in the house, he found Chase staring fixedly at his comic book, the glass of chocolate milk still half-full. "So," said Chase.

"So?" he asked, approaching.

Chase glanced up, expression a bit too perfectly composed. "Want to watch anime with me?"

Dean suddenly wondered if Chase had magically heard or seen them. "Sure. What's next on my list of anime education?" he asked cheerfully.

Chase held up a DVD box. "Clamp School Detectives. It's awesome."

"Sweet." He plopped down next to Chase on the couch.

Chase reached for the remote. "You just can't take it seriously, just so you're warned."

"That sounds like my cup of tea right now."

"Good," he said, with an honest grin, and turned the television on.