Soldiers
Title: Soldiers
Disclaimer: The SPN universe and Dean Winchester do not belong to me in any way, shape, or form.
Rating: PG
Characters: Dean Winchester
Pairings: Gen
Word Count: 500
Spoilers: All aired episodes
Warnings: Angsty
Summary: Two soldiers walk into a bar...
He’s finishing off a whiskey on the rocks when a soldier in fatigues sits down next to him and asks for a gin and tonic.
The bar, Murphy‘s, is only a couple miles away from Lisa Braeden’s house, so he’s become somewhat of a regular. He doesn’t usually do much socializing, but he’s been here often enough that most of the bartenders know him by name. It’s not that unusual for the soldier to be here since Murphy’s is the closest non-family friendly bar to the airport. The gritty sign outside keeps away most tourists, which suits Dean just fine since they tend to get on his nerves.
Dean goes to order another drink, but realizes that there was a shift change some time back. This bartender must be new because he’s never seen her before. He glances at her nametag and pauses.
“Could I get another, Joanne?”
“Oh, call me Jo,” she says.
She’s a curvy brunette, but her eyes are a familiar shade of brown.
“I think I’ll stick with Joanne if that’s alright.”
The girl shrugs as if used to odd behavior from late-night bar patrons and refills his drink. The cold glass in his hands helps to bring him back to the present and numb the thoughts buzzing around his head.
“Where’d you serve?” the soldier asks. Dean swivels on his stool to get a better look at him. He wonders what this soldier sees in him to ask such a question, but he doesn’t wonder too much; there’s a reason he avoids mirrors as much as possible. The man is shorter than Dean, younger, too. His dark hair is cropped short, and bright blue eyes peer at him from under sloping brows. Dean is suddenly uncomfortable with the idea of lying to this man. First the bartender, now the soldier; Dean wonders if the universe is trying to tell him something.
“You know… everywhere and nowhere,” Dean says.
“I know what you mean. I just got back from the Middle East, myself. How long have you been back?” the soldier asks.
Dean’s thoughts jump back to May and Lucifer and Kansas and Sam and… Dean takes a large sip of his drink. “Two months.”
The soldier grunts an acknowledgement through his own drink, swallows and asks, “Are you going back?”
Well that’s the big question, isn’t it?
“Don’t know yet.”
“Well,” the other man says, finishing his drink and extending his free hand toward Dean, “I have to go, but it was nice talking with you.”
Dean takes the offered hand and gives it a firm shake, “Yeah, likewise.”
The soldier walks out of the bar, bag slug over his shoulder. The whisper of an idea flits across Dean’s mind and he downs the rest of his liquor, pays his tab and walks out to his car. Alone, behind the Impala’s steering wheel, the little voice in the back of his head is harder to ignore.
Are you going back?
Dean puts the car in drive.
Disclaimer: The SPN universe and Dean Winchester do not belong to me in any way, shape, or form.
Rating: PG
Characters: Dean Winchester
Pairings: Gen
Word Count: 500
Spoilers: All aired episodes
Warnings: Angsty
Summary: Two soldiers walk into a bar...
He’s finishing off a whiskey on the rocks when a soldier in fatigues sits down next to him and asks for a gin and tonic.
The bar, Murphy‘s, is only a couple miles away from Lisa Braeden’s house, so he’s become somewhat of a regular. He doesn’t usually do much socializing, but he’s been here often enough that most of the bartenders know him by name. It’s not that unusual for the soldier to be here since Murphy’s is the closest non-family friendly bar to the airport. The gritty sign outside keeps away most tourists, which suits Dean just fine since they tend to get on his nerves.
Dean goes to order another drink, but realizes that there was a shift change some time back. This bartender must be new because he’s never seen her before. He glances at her nametag and pauses.
“Could I get another, Joanne?”
“Oh, call me Jo,” she says.
She’s a curvy brunette, but her eyes are a familiar shade of brown.
“I think I’ll stick with Joanne if that’s alright.”
The girl shrugs as if used to odd behavior from late-night bar patrons and refills his drink. The cold glass in his hands helps to bring him back to the present and numb the thoughts buzzing around his head.
“Where’d you serve?” the soldier asks. Dean swivels on his stool to get a better look at him. He wonders what this soldier sees in him to ask such a question, but he doesn’t wonder too much; there’s a reason he avoids mirrors as much as possible. The man is shorter than Dean, younger, too. His dark hair is cropped short, and bright blue eyes peer at him from under sloping brows. Dean is suddenly uncomfortable with the idea of lying to this man. First the bartender, now the soldier; Dean wonders if the universe is trying to tell him something.
“You know… everywhere and nowhere,” Dean says.
“I know what you mean. I just got back from the Middle East, myself. How long have you been back?” the soldier asks.
Dean’s thoughts jump back to May and Lucifer and Kansas and Sam and… Dean takes a large sip of his drink. “Two months.”
The soldier grunts an acknowledgement through his own drink, swallows and asks, “Are you going back?”
Well that’s the big question, isn’t it?
“Don’t know yet.”
“Well,” the other man says, finishing his drink and extending his free hand toward Dean, “I have to go, but it was nice talking with you.”
Dean takes the offered hand and gives it a firm shake, “Yeah, likewise.”
The soldier walks out of the bar, bag slug over his shoulder. The whisper of an idea flits across Dean’s mind and he downs the rest of his liquor, pays his tab and walks out to his car. Alone, behind the Impala’s steering wheel, the little voice in the back of his head is harder to ignore.
Are you going back?
Dean puts the car in drive.