fic: Meet the Winchesters
Title:Meet the Winchesters
pairing:Dean/Lisa
ratingPG, utter fluff.
Summary: Lisa makes Dean take her to Bobby’s for Christmas so she can meet the family.
Author's note: Part of a Supernatural AU that I've been working on, where Dean is in fact Ben's father, and he's been there since finding out Lisa was pregnant.
-
“This is stupid,” Dean announces for the tenth time on their trip. He grips the wheel tight as they pull into the entrance of Bobby’s salvage yard.
“It is not,” Lisa answers shifting in the seat. She’s kicked off her shoes and has her feet pressed against the dashboard. “Stop saying that.”
“We don’t gotta do this, Lise,” he groans and slows down the car. He doesn’t do this meet the parents bullshit. Parents never liked him anyway, so what was the point?
“I mean, this is you and me, and the kid.” He reaches over to rub at her stomach which he can’t really feel through her two layers of shirts. She’s not really showing right now anyway. Just a tiny bump he notices when she’s naked.
She sighs and lolls her head on the seat. “I want to know the family that my baby is coming from. Don’t act like such a child.”
He grunts and keeps the car going up to the front. Dad isn’t here yet; good. Just Bobby and Sam.
Lisa’s been asking for weeks to meet his beloved little brother, his father. After he proved to her that ghosts and demons were real, she was even more adamant about it. He’d all ready showed her pictures and she awed at how beautiful his mother was.
Dean stops the car, parking behind Bobby’s rusted bucket of a buick. “I’m not nervous, why are you?” she asks, leaning down to the floor to pick up her shoes.
“Because…” he rubs the back of his neck. He all ready knows he’s not good enough for her, never will be. And he’s surprised she hasn’t kicked him to the curb after the whole demon incident (but hey, she demanded proof). Dad still isn’t happy about the situation, that Dean takes off almost every time after a hunt, to go see her. “I just…dont’ think we have to do this to you know, be together or whatever.”
She gives an almost sympathetic smile before leaning over to kiss him, holding his chin. “It’s Christmas, Dean. You’re supposed to be with your family.”
That’s part of the reason, he’s figured. Her parents are off on a cruise this year, leaving Lisa and her sister Haylie to fend for themselves. Haylie has her own boyfriend upstate somewhere. A log cabin, some roast or whatever. Lisa doesn’t want to be alone either.
She gets out of the car and reaches into the back to grab her little suitcase. The one with the long handle and wheels. It catches a bit as she walks on without him across the gravel to the front door. Dean watches a second, expecting her to turn around and run at the the dilapidated site that he sometimes calls home. She’s half-way up the stairs when she pauses and leans forward a bit, a hand on the rickety railing, and looks like she’s gonna throw up.
Dean gets out of the car without his duffel and trots up to her, putting a hand on her back. “You okay?”
She sighs. “Yeah, just a little pain, it’s fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“Promise.” She keeps walking. Dean follows her up and to the front door. They don’t knock, Dean opens the door for her.
“Bobby?” Dean calls and he kicks shut the door. Lisa puts her suitcase against the stairs. “It’s just me and Lisa.”
“Kitchen,” Bobby answers back.
There’s a clamouring of footsteps from the second floor, then down the stairs. Sam stands in the foyer a second and Dean swears he’s at least an inch taller than last week when he saw him. They’re just at the same height now, and Sam is all legs and awkwardness. Hair flopping in his face, arms too long for the flannel shirt he’s pulled on.
“Dean!” Sam cheers before giving Dean a hug. “I’m glad you made it! Dad said something about a snow storm coming.”
“Wouldn’t miss Christmas for anything, buddy.” He smiles and lets go of his not-so-little brother.
Sam puts his attention on Lisa. “So, you’re Lisa.”
“Afraid so.” They shake hands. “I’m really glad to me you. Dean talks about you all the time.”
“You too,” he laughs. “Come on, you should meet Bobby.”
Dean groans. “Sam, give her a second to get settled in.”
She slips off her leather gloves, her dark blue peacoat and hangs it on the rack by the door. “I’d love to.” She follows Sam and Dean follows her.
Bobby stands in front of the stove wearing a frilly apron and tests something from a pot on the stove. Smells thick and meaty. A stew probably, something that will last them all a few days. He turns around setting the wooden spoon on the counter.
Dean stands behind Lisa while Sam goes forward to dig through the fridge. He swallows hard. “Uh, Bobby, this is Lisa. Lisa, Bobby.”
Her smile is like a fucking rainbow as she leans over to shake Bobby’s hand and Bobby’s smiling too. “Jeez Dean, how’d you get such a pretty girl interested in you?”
“Ha, ha.” Dean shuffles his feet. “Where’s Dad?”
“Getting some eggnog. Why don’t you guys have a seat? Dean get the girl a drink or something.”
She smiles. “I’m fine. Dinner smells great.”
“Old family recipe.” He turns back to it and stirs again. Dean grabs Lisa a water from the fridge. Sam sits across from her and starts chewing on his quickly made sandwich. “Not allergic to anything, are you?”
“No.” She drinks her water and looks around the kitchen that leads into the den where Bobby researches. Dean runs his hand through his hair. This isn’t much different from living in a run-down trailer park. Sure everything functions, but it’s falling a part, nothing matches and it smells like old books and beer a little. He shuffles his boots under the table, kicks at Sam, kicks at the leg of the chairs.
Lisa just sits there with a smile on her face, drinking her water, making small talk with Sam and Bobby. Asks about what Sam is working on in school. She seems genuinely interested.
“When is the baby due?” Sam asks and Dean almost chokes.
Lisa continues on flawlessly. “Some time in early June.”
Dean gets a beer from the fridge and chugs about half of it and waits for something to crack. For Lisa to decide that this isn’t the life for her or the kid, kick him to the curb and he’d never see either of them again.
But she keeps talking to Sam as if they’ve known each other forever. “Want me to show you around?” Sam asks.
“Sam, she doesn’t-“
“I’d love to see the place,” she says, standing up. “Maybe you can show me where we’ll be staying.” She walks by Dean and ruffles his hair, bends down close to whisper in his ear, “Calm down, you’re going to have a heart attack.” Before following Sam.
Dean hears her grab her suitcase from the door and the wheels catching on the carpet as she drags it behind her. He groans and presses his head against the table.
“She’s right,” Bobby says. “Don’t see what you’re so worried about, boy.”
“What do you think?” He doesn’t look up, just stares at his muddy boots.
*
John doesn’t roll in until after the sun sets and dinner is on the table. Sam sets it, God bless him. He smacks at Dean to either help or get out of the way, so Dean helps a bit. Forks on the left, knife on the right. He’s not sure if it’s the correct order, but it looks nice. Drinks on the right too.
None of the plates or glasses match, silverware is thrown together from years of different and mixed sets. There are woven place-mats that actually go together, and a basket of bread, a pitcher of water. Sam’s proud of himself; it looks like they’re a normal family.
They’re all just sitting down when the front door opens. Dean feels his spine freeze as he listens to Dad knock his boots at the door, hang up his coat and put a rifle in the closet. Heavy steps that Dean has memorized moving down the hall and into the kitchen. “Sorry I’m a bit late,” John says, moving across the room and sticking a quart of eggnog into the fridge before coming to sit down. Sam takes one for the team and sits with John while Dean and Lisa sit on the other side of the table, Bobby at the end.
“Weather’s gettin’ nasty out there.”
It’s been snowing for almost two hours now.
Dean freezes a bit, a fork in his hand getting ready to go to his mouth, as John stares across the table at him. Sam kicks him under the table. “Uh, Dad,” he clears his throat. “Dad, this is Lisa.”
She smiles like a goddess and reaches her arm across the table to shake John’s hand. “Pleased to meet you.” He puts on a smile that Dean knows is half-fake, and shakes back before digging into dinner.
“Likewise,” he says.
Dean starts to shovel food like he hasn’t eaten in days.
“So,” Dad starts. “You and Dean, uh…You’re expecting.”
She pauses and sets down her fork and knife, folds the napkin in her lap. “Yes.”
John eats. “You know that Dean doesn’t have a lot. I mean… he don’t come from money.”
Dean stops. Lisa kind of falters, something he’s never seen. She radiates confidence, but she’s shying a bit now and Dean understands. His father’s a big guy, with a gruff face and a deep voice. Wide shoulders, tall.
“I know.”
“So you know, there’s not a lotta point in keepin’ him around.”
“Dad!” Sam snaps. “It’s Christmas,” he emphasizes. Because poor Sammy, all he ever wanted, what he wants every damn day, is just to be normal. Just for a little bit.
John clears his throat and keeps eating. “I’m just saying, I don’t want her-” speaking as if she’s not sitting right across from him. “-expecting a lot from him.”
That’s a nice punch in the gut, thanks Dad. But Dean keeps his mouth shut. He peeks over at Lisa and her eyes are a bit watered (he’s heard all kinds of things about pregnant women being weepy and emotional. having break downs over nothing), but she doesn’t cry. She sniffles and arches her back, plants her feet flat on the floor.
“I told your son that I didn’t need him swooping in on some white horse to save me. I gave him an option for an out, and he decided to stay. So I’m all ready getting a lot more out of this than I expected.” She moved calm and steady, but gulped her water like she was dehydrated.
John takes a deep breath and looks from her to Dean. “Good,” John says. “Good.”
The rest of dinner is eaten in mostly silence. Lisa puts aside the rest of her food, citing some queasiness and just sips on her water. After dinner she helps Sam clear the table and do dishes. Then there’s eggnog (and Dean puts a shot of Jack in his without Dad or Bobby noticing.) John goes to bed early, deciding to bunk down in the panic room since there’s a limit on beds.
“Night, Sammy,” Dad says with a ruffle of the boy’s hair. “Dean, Lisa.” And he’s down the stairs.
Dean’s head is swimming a bit. Lisa squeezes his hand. “Let’s go to bed.”
*
A tiny bathroom connects to the guest room that Dean and Lisa are sharing. She walks back and forth as she brushes her teeth. Dean sits on the bed in his sweatpants, shirtless, watching her move.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“About what?” She speaks with a foamy mouth. He laughs at her and she ducks into the bathroom to spit and comes back out. “Your dad?”
He shrugs.
“I was expecting him to be a little nicer, I guess.” She peels off her jeans and kicks them to the corner. Lets out a long breath. “God it feels good to get those off.”
He winks at her. “I bet it does.” He grins and grabs at her passing by, his hands on the back of her thighs bring her to him. He presses his face to her stomach, breathes in her sweet smell, kissing her through the material of her shirt.
She threads her fingers through his hair. “Do you think he hates me?”
Dean pulls back to stare at her. She’s looking down, deep and thoughtful gaze. ”No one could hate you, sweetheart,” he promises. With one hand, he pushes up her shirt so he can lav his tongue against the small rise of her stomach, suck a small kiss against her hip.
“Mmm,” she arches and tugs on his hair a bit. “I love Sam,” she muses as Dean squeezes her. “Bobby’s nice.” He’s thrilled that she loves Sam. That’s the most important thing.
“Yeah, he’s nice to you.” He looks up again.
“Of course he is. I’m prettier than you.”
“You think so?” He leans back on the bed, finally letting her go.
She swivels her hips before ducking back into the bathroom. She comes out in one of his t-shirts, one that he’s been missing for a while. “I've been looking for that.?”
She just smiles and turns off the lights and crawls into bed. He pulls up the sheets over their bodies and holds her close against him, so they hardly have room to breathe. He inhales the scent of her hair, wraps one arm around her waist, keeps his hand over her stomach.
This is his, all of it. No matter what Dad says or thinks, he’s keeping it, protecting it. Instead of ‘i love you’ Dean kisses along Lisa’s neck and laces their fingers together. Instead of ‘i love you too’, she takes his other hand and kisses his knuckles before snuggling into the pillows.
end
pairing:Dean/Lisa
ratingPG, utter fluff.
Summary: Lisa makes Dean take her to Bobby’s for Christmas so she can meet the family.
Author's note: Part of a Supernatural AU that I've been working on, where Dean is in fact Ben's father, and he's been there since finding out Lisa was pregnant.
-
“This is stupid,” Dean announces for the tenth time on their trip. He grips the wheel tight as they pull into the entrance of Bobby’s salvage yard.
“It is not,” Lisa answers shifting in the seat. She’s kicked off her shoes and has her feet pressed against the dashboard. “Stop saying that.”
“We don’t gotta do this, Lise,” he groans and slows down the car. He doesn’t do this meet the parents bullshit. Parents never liked him anyway, so what was the point?
“I mean, this is you and me, and the kid.” He reaches over to rub at her stomach which he can’t really feel through her two layers of shirts. She’s not really showing right now anyway. Just a tiny bump he notices when she’s naked.
She sighs and lolls her head on the seat. “I want to know the family that my baby is coming from. Don’t act like such a child.”
He grunts and keeps the car going up to the front. Dad isn’t here yet; good. Just Bobby and Sam.
Lisa’s been asking for weeks to meet his beloved little brother, his father. After he proved to her that ghosts and demons were real, she was even more adamant about it. He’d all ready showed her pictures and she awed at how beautiful his mother was.
Dean stops the car, parking behind Bobby’s rusted bucket of a buick. “I’m not nervous, why are you?” she asks, leaning down to the floor to pick up her shoes.
“Because…” he rubs the back of his neck. He all ready knows he’s not good enough for her, never will be. And he’s surprised she hasn’t kicked him to the curb after the whole demon incident (but hey, she demanded proof). Dad still isn’t happy about the situation, that Dean takes off almost every time after a hunt, to go see her. “I just…dont’ think we have to do this to you know, be together or whatever.”
She gives an almost sympathetic smile before leaning over to kiss him, holding his chin. “It’s Christmas, Dean. You’re supposed to be with your family.”
That’s part of the reason, he’s figured. Her parents are off on a cruise this year, leaving Lisa and her sister Haylie to fend for themselves. Haylie has her own boyfriend upstate somewhere. A log cabin, some roast or whatever. Lisa doesn’t want to be alone either.
She gets out of the car and reaches into the back to grab her little suitcase. The one with the long handle and wheels. It catches a bit as she walks on without him across the gravel to the front door. Dean watches a second, expecting her to turn around and run at the the dilapidated site that he sometimes calls home. She’s half-way up the stairs when she pauses and leans forward a bit, a hand on the rickety railing, and looks like she’s gonna throw up.
Dean gets out of the car without his duffel and trots up to her, putting a hand on her back. “You okay?”
She sighs. “Yeah, just a little pain, it’s fine.”
“You’re sure?”
“Promise.” She keeps walking. Dean follows her up and to the front door. They don’t knock, Dean opens the door for her.
“Bobby?” Dean calls and he kicks shut the door. Lisa puts her suitcase against the stairs. “It’s just me and Lisa.”
“Kitchen,” Bobby answers back.
There’s a clamouring of footsteps from the second floor, then down the stairs. Sam stands in the foyer a second and Dean swears he’s at least an inch taller than last week when he saw him. They’re just at the same height now, and Sam is all legs and awkwardness. Hair flopping in his face, arms too long for the flannel shirt he’s pulled on.
“Dean!” Sam cheers before giving Dean a hug. “I’m glad you made it! Dad said something about a snow storm coming.”
“Wouldn’t miss Christmas for anything, buddy.” He smiles and lets go of his not-so-little brother.
Sam puts his attention on Lisa. “So, you’re Lisa.”
“Afraid so.” They shake hands. “I’m really glad to me you. Dean talks about you all the time.”
“You too,” he laughs. “Come on, you should meet Bobby.”
Dean groans. “Sam, give her a second to get settled in.”
She slips off her leather gloves, her dark blue peacoat and hangs it on the rack by the door. “I’d love to.” She follows Sam and Dean follows her.
Bobby stands in front of the stove wearing a frilly apron and tests something from a pot on the stove. Smells thick and meaty. A stew probably, something that will last them all a few days. He turns around setting the wooden spoon on the counter.
Dean stands behind Lisa while Sam goes forward to dig through the fridge. He swallows hard. “Uh, Bobby, this is Lisa. Lisa, Bobby.”
Her smile is like a fucking rainbow as she leans over to shake Bobby’s hand and Bobby’s smiling too. “Jeez Dean, how’d you get such a pretty girl interested in you?”
“Ha, ha.” Dean shuffles his feet. “Where’s Dad?”
“Getting some eggnog. Why don’t you guys have a seat? Dean get the girl a drink or something.”
She smiles. “I’m fine. Dinner smells great.”
“Old family recipe.” He turns back to it and stirs again. Dean grabs Lisa a water from the fridge. Sam sits across from her and starts chewing on his quickly made sandwich. “Not allergic to anything, are you?”
“No.” She drinks her water and looks around the kitchen that leads into the den where Bobby researches. Dean runs his hand through his hair. This isn’t much different from living in a run-down trailer park. Sure everything functions, but it’s falling a part, nothing matches and it smells like old books and beer a little. He shuffles his boots under the table, kicks at Sam, kicks at the leg of the chairs.
Lisa just sits there with a smile on her face, drinking her water, making small talk with Sam and Bobby. Asks about what Sam is working on in school. She seems genuinely interested.
“When is the baby due?” Sam asks and Dean almost chokes.
Lisa continues on flawlessly. “Some time in early June.”
Dean gets a beer from the fridge and chugs about half of it and waits for something to crack. For Lisa to decide that this isn’t the life for her or the kid, kick him to the curb and he’d never see either of them again.
But she keeps talking to Sam as if they’ve known each other forever. “Want me to show you around?” Sam asks.
“Sam, she doesn’t-“
“I’d love to see the place,” she says, standing up. “Maybe you can show me where we’ll be staying.” She walks by Dean and ruffles his hair, bends down close to whisper in his ear, “Calm down, you’re going to have a heart attack.” Before following Sam.
Dean hears her grab her suitcase from the door and the wheels catching on the carpet as she drags it behind her. He groans and presses his head against the table.
“She’s right,” Bobby says. “Don’t see what you’re so worried about, boy.”
“What do you think?” He doesn’t look up, just stares at his muddy boots.
*
John doesn’t roll in until after the sun sets and dinner is on the table. Sam sets it, God bless him. He smacks at Dean to either help or get out of the way, so Dean helps a bit. Forks on the left, knife on the right. He’s not sure if it’s the correct order, but it looks nice. Drinks on the right too.
None of the plates or glasses match, silverware is thrown together from years of different and mixed sets. There are woven place-mats that actually go together, and a basket of bread, a pitcher of water. Sam’s proud of himself; it looks like they’re a normal family.
They’re all just sitting down when the front door opens. Dean feels his spine freeze as he listens to Dad knock his boots at the door, hang up his coat and put a rifle in the closet. Heavy steps that Dean has memorized moving down the hall and into the kitchen. “Sorry I’m a bit late,” John says, moving across the room and sticking a quart of eggnog into the fridge before coming to sit down. Sam takes one for the team and sits with John while Dean and Lisa sit on the other side of the table, Bobby at the end.
“Weather’s gettin’ nasty out there.”
It’s been snowing for almost two hours now.
Dean freezes a bit, a fork in his hand getting ready to go to his mouth, as John stares across the table at him. Sam kicks him under the table. “Uh, Dad,” he clears his throat. “Dad, this is Lisa.”
She smiles like a goddess and reaches her arm across the table to shake John’s hand. “Pleased to meet you.” He puts on a smile that Dean knows is half-fake, and shakes back before digging into dinner.
“Likewise,” he says.
Dean starts to shovel food like he hasn’t eaten in days.
“So,” Dad starts. “You and Dean, uh…You’re expecting.”
She pauses and sets down her fork and knife, folds the napkin in her lap. “Yes.”
John eats. “You know that Dean doesn’t have a lot. I mean… he don’t come from money.”
Dean stops. Lisa kind of falters, something he’s never seen. She radiates confidence, but she’s shying a bit now and Dean understands. His father’s a big guy, with a gruff face and a deep voice. Wide shoulders, tall.
“I know.”
“So you know, there’s not a lotta point in keepin’ him around.”
“Dad!” Sam snaps. “It’s Christmas,” he emphasizes. Because poor Sammy, all he ever wanted, what he wants every damn day, is just to be normal. Just for a little bit.
John clears his throat and keeps eating. “I’m just saying, I don’t want her-” speaking as if she’s not sitting right across from him. “-expecting a lot from him.”
That’s a nice punch in the gut, thanks Dad. But Dean keeps his mouth shut. He peeks over at Lisa and her eyes are a bit watered (he’s heard all kinds of things about pregnant women being weepy and emotional. having break downs over nothing), but she doesn’t cry. She sniffles and arches her back, plants her feet flat on the floor.
“I told your son that I didn’t need him swooping in on some white horse to save me. I gave him an option for an out, and he decided to stay. So I’m all ready getting a lot more out of this than I expected.” She moved calm and steady, but gulped her water like she was dehydrated.
John takes a deep breath and looks from her to Dean. “Good,” John says. “Good.”
The rest of dinner is eaten in mostly silence. Lisa puts aside the rest of her food, citing some queasiness and just sips on her water. After dinner she helps Sam clear the table and do dishes. Then there’s eggnog (and Dean puts a shot of Jack in his without Dad or Bobby noticing.) John goes to bed early, deciding to bunk down in the panic room since there’s a limit on beds.
“Night, Sammy,” Dad says with a ruffle of the boy’s hair. “Dean, Lisa.” And he’s down the stairs.
Dean’s head is swimming a bit. Lisa squeezes his hand. “Let’s go to bed.”
*
A tiny bathroom connects to the guest room that Dean and Lisa are sharing. She walks back and forth as she brushes her teeth. Dean sits on the bed in his sweatpants, shirtless, watching her move.
“I’m sorry,” he says.
“About what?” She speaks with a foamy mouth. He laughs at her and she ducks into the bathroom to spit and comes back out. “Your dad?”
He shrugs.
“I was expecting him to be a little nicer, I guess.” She peels off her jeans and kicks them to the corner. Lets out a long breath. “God it feels good to get those off.”
He winks at her. “I bet it does.” He grins and grabs at her passing by, his hands on the back of her thighs bring her to him. He presses his face to her stomach, breathes in her sweet smell, kissing her through the material of her shirt.
She threads her fingers through his hair. “Do you think he hates me?”
Dean pulls back to stare at her. She’s looking down, deep and thoughtful gaze. ”No one could hate you, sweetheart,” he promises. With one hand, he pushes up her shirt so he can lav his tongue against the small rise of her stomach, suck a small kiss against her hip.
“Mmm,” she arches and tugs on his hair a bit. “I love Sam,” she muses as Dean squeezes her. “Bobby’s nice.” He’s thrilled that she loves Sam. That’s the most important thing.
“Yeah, he’s nice to you.” He looks up again.
“Of course he is. I’m prettier than you.”
“You think so?” He leans back on the bed, finally letting her go.
She swivels her hips before ducking back into the bathroom. She comes out in one of his t-shirts, one that he’s been missing for a while. “I've been looking for that.?”
She just smiles and turns off the lights and crawls into bed. He pulls up the sheets over their bodies and holds her close against him, so they hardly have room to breathe. He inhales the scent of her hair, wraps one arm around her waist, keeps his hand over her stomach.
This is his, all of it. No matter what Dad says or thinks, he’s keeping it, protecting it. Instead of ‘i love you’ Dean kisses along Lisa’s neck and laces their fingers together. Instead of ‘i love you too’, she takes his other hand and kisses his knuckles before snuggling into the pillows.
end