The Distance Between Two Hearts; Part One - BigBang fic
Title: The Distance Between Two Hearts - Part 1/5
Author: thelonejuliet
Characters: Sam, Dean, OFCs galore
Pairing: Dean/OFC, mentions of Sam/Jess, Dean/Cassie
Overall Word Count: 41,755
Rating: Anywhere from PG-13 to NC-17, in different parts.
Warnings: Violence, gore, language, explicit sex
Spoilers: Anything up to the end of Season 2 is probably fair game.
Disclaimer: Sam and Dean aren’t mine - they belong to Kripke. However, Christina and Jake (and the other OFCs) are mine and I adore them and will protect them with my life! :)
Author's Note(s): *wipes sweat* It’s done! My BigBang fic is finished! This has been months of hard work and stress, but I’m happy with how the whole thing turned out. I have been worried that no one would read it, due to the severe lack of wincest, but that’s okay. I’m still proud of myself for having accomplished it! Go me! ^_^
Thanks to tempestquill, for the beta work and encouragement and answering of repeat questions over the past few months, lol. Thanks HJO! You’re awesome. As usual. :)
And, of course, I can’t forget the darling emmybuns696! She took on the challenge of beta with very little time left and put in so much work without complaining, though I was probably annoying the crap out of her. :) Thank you SO much, Emily, I loved your input and ideas! *hugs*
And, of course, the AWESOME artists: smth_blue ( and heart_cries for their beautiful work and interpretation of my story. It makes everything so much better!
smth_blue’s work.
heart_cries’s work.
(And both pictures are at the end of the story! :) )
All fics found here.
Summary: When Sam and Dean travel to Kentucky for a routine hunt, they find more than they bargain for in the reappearance of an old friend. The threads of long-hidden secrets begin to unravel, one of which will change all their lives forever.
Chapter One
“Dean!” he faintly heard Sam shout across the wind roaring through the old house.
The witch they were trying to get rid of was putting up one hell of a fight. As soon as the brothers walked in the front door, things had started flying. Objects ranging from porcelain dolls to pieces of furniture were now soaring through the air with the speed of a tornado, causing Dean and Sam to plaster themselves to the walls, out of self-preservation more than from the force of the wind.
Dean was just about to scream back to his brother when everything suddenly went still. There was a loud crash as everything landed on the floor. The brothers looked skeptically at one another from their opposite walls, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Witches didn’t just stop trying to kill people. So, either something had happened to her or she had some new trick up her sleeve.
Dean was betting on the latter.
Suddenly a low growling filled the room, and two massive black dogs appeared at each door to the living room. The witch was behind the one advancing on Sam, slowly following it into the room with a wicked grin spread across her once-pretty features.
Just when the dogs were about to leap for the Winchesters’ throats, the window on the wall between them exploded inwards, bringing a girl in with the shards of glass.
The witch was startled, as were the dogs. She looked up and her eyes widened, in what Dean believed to be recognition, right before she lunged at the intruder. “You!” she screamed as she covered the distance. “You’re the one trying to stop me!”
He forgot all about the snarling beast in front of him and was just about to jump between the two women when the brunette stranger yelled, “Dean, stop! I’ve got her!”
He stopped short, from the surprise of hearing his name called by a total stranger instead of the actual command - and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d heard that voice before. He watched as the brunette, whose back was to him, pulled a gun out of the waistband of her jeans and fired two bullets into the witch’s chest.
The witch fell to the ground, twitching and breathing shallowly, but not yet dead. The girl yelled for Sam to throw her the shovel she’d dropped in the midst of her flight, and Sam conceded without hesitation. Dean thought that Sam recognized her, too, and he could actually see her face.
The girl caught the shovel in mid-air, then, in one smooth motion, turned and slammed it into the witch’s neck, immediately severing her head and stilling her movements; the dogs, who’d stopped their snarling with the loss of the witch’s concentration, vanished with the disconnection of the spinal cord.
The girl pulled the shovel out of the bloody mess and threw it down next to the body. When she turned to face them, Dean’s breath caught in his throat as he finally placed the voice with the face. She smiled at both men and said cheerily, “Well, boys, I trust you to burn all this for me. Bye Sam, Dean.”
Then she climbed back out of the window and disappeared into the night, leaving Dean staring open-mouthed at the space she’d previously occupied. That was…but, no…it couldn’t be…could it?
Sam’s hand on his shoulder made him jump, and he could hear Sam’s chuckle, but it sounded far away.
Then Sam spoke and he sounded serious, bringing Dean’s focus crashing down. “Dean. You, uh…you know who that was, don’t you?” he asked warily.
Dean nodded as memories of Kansas nights from long ago filled his head: flashes of a warm body in the backseat of the Impala, a head full of silken brown hair on his shoulder as they stared up at the sky, a boutonniere being pinned on his tux, loving embraces after a nasty hunt…an empty house with dark windows staring back at him.
“Christina,” he choked out. “That was Christina West.”
* * *
As the motel door closed behind him with a soft click, Sam took a moment to actually look at his brother. Dean had become distant as soon as he’d realized who had just saved their lives. Not that Sam could blame him for being stuck inside his own head. He would have been a little shell-shocked, too.
“Dean,” he ventured, “are you sure you’re okay?”
“Fine, Sammy,” Dean replied, softer than Sam had ever heard him speak.
“At least now you know she’s okay…”
Sam trailed off, not sure what else he could say. He knew there was no real comfort for the situation. How do you deal with the reappearance of someone you’d long thought dead? Especially when you were once crazy in love with them?
“Yeah…now I know…” Sam looked away as Dean stood up, rubbing his eyes furiously; he knew Dean wouldn’t want him to see the tears threatening to spill. “I’m going to hop in the shower…can’t sleep now…
“We’ll do some more research on the werewolves in the morning, okay?”
Sam nodded and got ready for bed. He figured he probably wasn’t going to sleep much either, too many unanswered questions running through his head, same as Dean.
Where had she been all this time? Why had she disappeared like she had? He’d once considered Christina his best friend, and to see her after so much time had passed…He’d spent years wondering if she was okay, if she was alive…years praying that her disappearance didn’t have anything to do with them and their never-ending quest.
A wave of guilt swept over him right before he slipped off into sleep. Sure, he’d lost his good friend. But Dean? Dean had lost so much more.
* * *
“Come on, Jake! You should be ready by now!” Christina yelled as the knock on the door sounded a second time. “They’re here to get you!”
She sighed as she walked down the short hall to her son’s room. She stopped at the threshold and was nearly run over as Jake came barreling out to answer the front door. She laughed and followed him back to the entranceway of their tiny apartment.
Her heart stopped as she saw the hulking figure in the doorway, causing her legs and all thought processes to stop as well.
Sam Winchester turned his attention away from Jake and his idle chatter to smile down at Christina, who’d managed to stop right behind the nine-year-old boy.
Jake twisted to look up at his mother, to question her without a word. Christina forced a smile onto her face and nodded at the boy. “Go finish packing,” she told him.
He gave her a big smile, before turning to the man in the doorway. He looked up and said, “Come in Sammy,” before running back to his room.
Christina felt her heart start up again at those words as she glared at Jake’s retreating back, pumping blood almost too fast and making her feel lightheaded. Why did her son not know when to keep his mouth shut? She doubted that Sam had introduced himself - besides the fact that Jake usually didn’t let anyone else get a word in, there wasn’t enough time before she’d caught up - and he wouldn’t have called himself “Sammy.” This was confirmed when she turned to Sam to find him looking at her with a mixture of confusion and amusement. She hoped that maybe he just chalked it up to old pictures and relayed memories.
She gave him a tight-lipped smile that was really more of a grimace and stepped back to let him into the apartment. He stepped in and immediately enveloped her 5’4” frame in a hug, forcing her breath out in a relived laugh.
“Well, you certainly grew into those long limbs, didn’t you Sam?” she said as he pulled back, his warm laughter tickling her ears and infusing her with a sudden, overwhelming sense of joy.
“Looks like I did, Chris,” he replied. “You look great.” He smiled down at her, hazel eyes alive and sparkling.
She somehow managed to hide the effects of the sudden onslaught of visions from a time when Sam wasn’t so mirthful and full of life. All she wanted to do was express her sympathy at the loss of his girlfriend and pull the young man to her. She didn’t want the Winchesters to know about her abilities just yet, though - if ever. Of course, it seemed like her son was determined to expose them both anyway.
She shook her head once the visions and the subsequent emotion had subsided, slight enough that Sam wouldn’t notice. “So,” she said firmly to bring his attention back to her and away from his observations of her poorly furnished living room, “what brings you two to Warsaw?”
Sam gave her a blank stare - possibly because it should have been an obvious answer. But, Christina knew that they didn’t know that she knew about their being hunters. They probably thought that she was operating under the belief that they were just unlucky enough to be in the house when the witch attacked.
“Let me guess,” she stated wryly, surprised at the sarcasm in her voice. Okay, so maybe it was time to admit that she was a little bitter about past secrets. “Business.”
She rolled her eyes and headed for the kitchen, fully expecting Sam to follow. She grabbed two cans of Pepsi from the fridge and placed them on the counter. She was just hopping up next to them when he walked in.
“Chris, we -”
“I know, Sam,” she cut him off and offered up one can of soda.
“You know?” he asked dubiously, accepting the soda and popping it open, leaning against the stove directly across from Christina in the small space.
Christina let out a small huff of laughter - and made a mental note to work on that bitter thing. “Of course I know Sam,” she replied calmly. “I’m not the same little Kansas girl you remember. You and Dean are hunters. So was your father.” And, after a short pause, “I’m sorry about his passing.”
She looked up through her bangs as she popped open her own soda and almost laughed at the expression on Sam’s face. He looked on the verge of a heart attack, bright blue can halfway to his lips, eyes the size of monster-truck tires.
When he started sputtering and almost dropped the soda back on the stove, she finally let out a chuckle. “You okay there, Sammy boy? You look like you’ve seen a ghost…and there’d better not be one here after all the charms I’ve put around the house.”
Sam blinked a couple times before his eyes finally seemed to focus again and he was staring directly at her. “I…you…no…you couldn’t…how did you…have you always…?” he stuttered.
She let out a deep sigh and jumped off the counter. It looked like it was time to ‘fess up - before Sam fell dead on her kitchen floor. She so did not need Dean on her case for the death of his beloved Sammy.
“No, Sam,” she began, “I haven’t always known. If I did, I probably would have been a little more freaked out back then, don’t you think? I mean, to say the least.”
At Sam’s stony silence, she continued, “I’m a psychic. Like you. Well, sort of. I don’t have that whole ‘dark side’ thing looming over my head, but I do have powers -”
She was momentarily interrupted as Jake ran to the front door, reaching it just as a knock sounded from the other side, and yelled “Bye Mom! Bye Uncle Sam!” before running out and slamming the door behind him.
“- like my son,” she finished grudgingly, wincing at Jake’s final words. She fearfully glanced back to Sam, who was suddenly far too close. She backed up a few steps, back hitting the counter.
Jake’s words brought Sam out of his stunned reverie and he squeaked, “Did he just call me Uncle Sam?”
Christina tried to take another step back, which was impossible of course, as her eyes shifted from place to place, never focusing on Sam for more than a nanosecond. “Yes,” she forced out through gritted teeth, “and I’m going to kill him for it later.”
“So…wait,” Sam started as Christina got back up on the counter and focused her eyes on the floor. “But, that would mean…you said he’s a psychic…so then…he would know…wouldn’t he? And that means…then Dean is…”
He trailed off and turned to stare at the front door. Well, he looked like he was staring at the door; she figured he wasn’t really seeing the door and was looking at some point only he could see. He could have been looking at Mars for all she knew. And, in the meantime, she found herself praying that she could sink into the floor. Or, maybe she could get the refrigerator to fall over on her…
She was stopped short of using her telekinesis to say “goodbye” to the cruel, cruel world by Sam’s sudden presence right in front of her. He lifted her chin, forcing her to look up, and she was surprised by the clarity, the understanding - and, mostly, the lack of judgment - in his eyes.
“That’s why you left,” he whispered. It wasn’t a question, barely even a statement. It was just a soft realization, probably spoken more to himself than to her.
She knew that she was doomed and nodded. “That’s why I left,” she confirmed, still staring into the hazel depths that had seen far too much heartache in their lifetime. She knew that her own dark brown ones were showing the same thing.
He nodded slightly and leaned forward to give her another hug, for which she was more than grateful. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, happy to have her old friend with her once again. She’d missed him - missed both of them - more than she would ever admit to them or herself. When her powers had cropped up, she had wished on every star in the sky that they’d find her, so she wouldn’t have to learn how to be a hunter all by herself. But, it had to be on their terms; she refused to go looking for them.
“So,” Sam said after a few minutes as he pulled back. “Tell me about it?”
Christina smiled up at him and hopped down. “You hungry?” she asked. “It’s almost dinner time - and I’m sure it’s been too long since you’ve had a good home-cooked meal.”
He returned her smile in full force. “Yeah it has. Sounds great. Dean won’t miss me.”
“Well, good,” she stated happily as she began pulling out dishes, steadfastly ignoring the feeling that Dean’s name brought. “Is spaghetti okay with you?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
“Spaghetti it is!”
The two busied about the kitchen, getting the noodles cooked and the sauce simmering. They made light conversation for the most part, swapping stories about their coolest - or most embarrassing - hunts. It wasn’t until they sat down to dinner that the whole sordid tale of years ago was brought up.
As they sat over big heaping bowls of spaghetti and garlic bread, Christina told Sam how she’d ended up in Warsaw, Kentucky. She and Dean had dated her entire senior year, having met each other through Sam, who was in her AP Biology class. Dean had been the cool, older guy while Sam was the shy, geeky type and she was right smack in the middle of them, both in personality and in age. She and Sam had started off as friends and fate had intervened at a study date when Dean came to collect his little brother from the library. She’d been immediately attracted to him, as most girls were. But he didn’t treat her like a conquest, which had been a surprise to both she and Sam.
Dean actually wanted to date her, not just have her.
She fell for Dean, with his rough exterior and soft interior, hard and fast. They were nearly inseparable, even with Dean’s frequent out-of-town “business” trips. Sure, she was suspicious. But in her love-blinded naïveté, she’d trusted him and believed that he would lay out his secrets for her to see when he saw fit to do so.
Then, about a month after graduation, while Dean was away on another business trip, she collapsed at work. Her sister, Kim, took her to the doctor, and she was forced to succumb to a truth that she’d already known, but was too afraid to admit - she was pregnant. Kim told their parents and, within a week, they were gone.
It wasn’t their decision to move, though. Christina had urged them to, and it wasn’t hard to convince them; her parents had never liked Dean, seeing him as a rebel-type instead of the real Dean that she’d gotten to see. She didn’t want to give the baby up; she loved Dean far too much and to have this little piece of him was sufficient. But, she didn’t want Dean to stay with her out of obligation. She couldn’t have handled that.
So, they’d moved to Florence, a little city in Northern Kentucky, and she’d enrolled at Northern Kentucky University, undeclared. A few months later, six months into her pregnancy, she’d started to have strange dreams - about ghosts and poltergeists and all sorts of things she didn’t have a name for. Then they started happening during the day: people in trouble, monsters roaming about. It had scared her beyond reason, as it would most people.
Then, one day, she’d had a vision of Dean, of what it was that he really did on those business trips. And she’d understood what it was that she had to do: become a hunter herself. After Jake was born, she’d declared her major as classics and mythology and started to get into shape. She got a personal trainer and found a couple hunters that would help her out, whenever they passed through. By the time Jake was a year old, she could hold her own with some of the fiercest hunters she’d met and was steadily approaching the Winchesters in skill.
After she graduated, she paid her bills and kept food on the tables by investigating “weird” occurrences and writing articles for various magazines and textbooks. Sometimes she would even travel to do a paid job, or teach a class or two at some distant university.
When Jake was five years old, she’d discovered Warsaw, not 45 minutes from her parents’ house in Florence. It was a magnet for supernatural activity. Since she’d relocated herself and Jake to the one-horse town, barely a week had gone by when there wasn’t something to kill or vanquish, regardless of how big or small.
And she loved it.
She learned to hone her powers and use them to her advantage. On top of the psychic visions, she was also telekinetic and telepathic, just like Jake. The visions were how she had known the Winchesters would be in town, and that they’d need help.
“So, let me get this straight,” Sam said slowly after she’d finished her story. Dinner was over and they were side by side at the sink, washing the dishes. “You…what…inherited Jake’s powers? Simply by carrying him?”
“Well,” Christina said thoughtfully, frowning as though it would make her mind give her the right words. “The way it works…things pass back and forth between mother and child. There are diseases that can be passed from one to the other, so why not psychic powers? I mean, it makes sense if you really think about it.”
Sam nodded his head slightly, thinking it over. “I guess it does,” he replied after a few moments of companionable silence.
After a few more minutes, when the summer sky was finally turning dark, Sam placed the last plate on the towel to dry and pulled his keys from his pocket. “I should be going,” he mumbled with a great sigh; she smiled at the obvious reluctance in his voice. “It’s getting late and I’ve probably been here for at least five hours. Dean’ll be wondering where I am by now, surely. Sammy not being there makes him a little antsy.”
Christina laughed and threw her still-wet hands around his neck, pulling him down for a hug. “I’ve missed you, Sam Winchester,” she murmured into his hair.
And she had. Dean was her boyfriend, her lover, but Sam was her friend, the one she counted on. She wouldn’t have survived her senior year without Sam’s loyalty - and his brains, of course - on her side.
“I’ve missed you, too” came the muffled reply.
She pulled back, with a small smile. He nodded at her and headed toward the front door, swinging his keys.
She followed, and as he started down the steps to the second floor, she called, “Hey Sam! Don’t you two be strangers, huh?”
He smiled at her and she felt sure that she’d never see either one of them again. Sam would keep the secret of Jake and the Brothers Winchester would be on to the next town, the next job, the next damsel-in-distress.
She closed the door and leaned against it, finally letting the tears flow down her cheeks, completely unchecked. She’d wanted to see Dean again for so long; now he was two miles away and she couldn’t even bring herself to speak to him. She knew what would happen if she did - she’d fall all over again. She’d been lucky the first time around; she hadn’t had to say goodbye. This time she would have to, and she knew that she’d never be able to do it, especially with Jake’s feelings in the mix. She would cry and beg and plead with him to stay with them - and that wasn’t an option. It was best for everyone if they just went their separate ways. Jake had lived this long without a father, right? Introducing Dean into his life now would only complicate matters.
At least that’s what she told herself as she willed the waterworks to stop.
She needed a drink. A strong one. Maybe four strong ones.
She slipped into her bedroom and changed out of the jeans and T-shirt she’d been wearing, slipping into her favorite black dress. It was a loose enough skirt to be able to twirl and have it spin around her, one of her favorite things about childhood. She pulled on her cowboy boots, grabbed her keys, her jacket and her phone and walked out the door.
It was a nice June night and the bar was only a few blocks away. She was going to try - again - to drown out a memory that, she knew, would never truly go away. But, hey, a girl could try, right? Who cares if she’d been trying for ten years?
Chapter Two
Dean spun around on his barstool, heart twisting somewhere in the region of his stomach, as soon as he heard someone yell, “Hey Christina!”
There she was, the reason he’d come to the bar. Christina West. She was standing in the doorway, talking to some guy and looking like a dream. Her dark brown hair was longer than it was when he’d last seen her, almost ten years ago, but it still framed her face, accenting her angelic features. Even from across the bar, he could see that her dark brown eyes still had that sparkle, the one that caused her to look like she found everything about the world incredibly amusing at all times. The sight of her was still breathtaking after all these years - and Dean mentally cursed himself for the damn poetics.
She didn’t seem to have changed in any significant way. Oh, he was sure that there were new emotional scars, but she still seemed to be the same loveable girl - woman now, he reminded himself - that he’d fallen for so many years ago.
God, he’d loved her.
She’d been perfect in his eyes. Christina was the first girl he’d met who respected him, and wanted him, for more than the one-night stand he’d become. She’d seen past the good looks, the macho attitude and the incredible amount of faults right into the very core of who he was - and she hadn’t been frightened away by what she saw. She had believed in him more than anyone before her and anyone that would come after; and she possessed the ability to make him feel like the greatest person in the world with a simple smile, even when he was at his lowest.
On top of her wonderful girlfriend qualities, she’d been a great friend, too. He knew that he could confide in her with anything and she’d listen, she’d help. He could be himself around her, completely unguarded, without fear. And, the girl could definitely hold her own. Dean knew he could be crass and his sarcasm bordered on insult sometimes, but Christina didn’t take any shit from anyone. She could dish it out as well as she could take it, and he loved her all the more for it.
Then, one day, she just disappeared.
Dean had gone up to South Dakota on his father’s instruction to help Bobby with a pack of werewolves. When he got back to town, he’d headed for her house immediately, even before going home, and found the place completely deserted. Even the furniture had been cleared out and, ironically, all that remained was a stuffed bear, in what had been Christina’s room, which he’d won for her at some silly county fair that she’d insisted on going to. It was all alone, giving Dean a sense of dread that he’d never felt.
Being the hunter he was, he automatically assumed that something bad - like, supernatural bad - had happened to Chris and her family. Surely she wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye first, right? So, he ran out for the EMF detector. Finding nothing, he’d enlisted Sammy to help research.
But, there was no trace of her, or anything else.
After a month or so, he’d given up the active search and began to work on the healing of his shattered heart. Christina had left - left town, left him; it was the only logical scenario. She’d probably gotten sick of all the secrets, all the lies, and convinced her family to move away. They hated him anyway and her dad’s business had several major locations across the country. So, he’d stopped looking, maybe out of respect for her. Or, maybe it was just the realization that he could never have something like a life with her.
He’d never truly given up hope of seeing her again, though.
Now, ten years later, here she was - the love of his life. And, she’d become a hunter. While he was still a little shocked at how things seemed to have worked themselves out, he was relieved that he might have a chance to make things right. If she was a hunter herself, then maybe she’d forgive him for keeping that secret from her all those years ago; surely she knew what it was like.
Christina managed to dislodge the man at the door and made her way over to the bar. He noted, with no small amount of irony, that the only open space for her to stand and order a drink was right next to him.
She sat down rigidly on the barstool to Dean’s left and half-shouted to the bartender, “I’ll take the usual, Mary!”
The music pouring out of the jukebox - 80s rock - was perfect. Music was one of the things that Chris and Dean had bonded on when they’d first started dating. She was a classic rock fan through and through, but he vowed time and again to never let her live down the fact that her favorite band was Bon Jovi. (Bon Jovi? Seriously? More than Aerosmith or AC/DC or Led Zeppelin?) He still smiled, just thinking about it.
“Wanted: Dead or Alive” began to play and he was hoping it would help ease some of the tension coursing through Chris’ body. She was still sitting on the barstool, waiting for her drink, stiff as a board. She was trying to look anywhere but to her right, at Dean, though he saw her eyes linger on him for a second or two.
Just as Mary came back and plopped a Guinness down with a smile, he leaned over and whispered, almost too softly to be heard over the guitar riffs, “Hey.”
Christina jumped, he figured it was probably due to what he’d said, rather than the fact that he’d spoken. Much like the bitch/jerk exchange he and Sam engaged in, whenever neither one of them could think of what to say, or they wanted to offer comfort, or just say “I love you” without the words, that’s what they would do. One would say, “hey,” and the other would say it back.
He watched as she took a long pull from the green bottle and took a deep breath to steady herself. He chuckled quietly; apparently he wasn’t the only one feeling the unresolved issues.
When she turned around, he was completely taken aback by the unshed tears shining in her brown eyes. And he dared to hope. All of his conquests over the years, and even those girls he stuck around with for a while, had nothing compared to Christina West. He wanted to believe that they could be together again. Hey, no one had ever said that Dean Winchester wasn’t a romantic. Well, besides…never mind.
Christina smiled at him and said, genuinely albeit a little shaky, “How have you been Dean?”
Dean returned the smile and felt his stomach begin to flutter. Okay, those unresolved issues? Maybe a little more unresolved than he originally thought. “Good. I’ve been good,” he replied.
“Good.” She nodded and kept the smile plastered on her face even though her eyes were still betraying her.
He knew he should say something, keep up the conversation, but all of his chatting-up-a-girl or sweet-talking-a-sheriff skills had gone completely out the window when Chris spoke. He figured it was a testament to how much he had really felt for the girl when the macho bravado wasn’t running through his brain yelling, “You still got it, man!” over a loudspeaker.
“…out of town tomorrow, I suppose?”
She was talking to him, he knew; he could see her lips moving. But he couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the litany of kiss her on replay in his head. What would she do if he did kiss her? Smack him? Kiss him back? Allow him to drive her to Vegas and make them legally bound together?
He was brought back from his musings by the sudden warmth of Chris’ hand on his.
“Are you alright?” she asked him, with a look of concern on her face that made Dean’s stomach do that weird fluttering thing again. “You kinda zoned out on me there.”
“I’m fine,” he assured her, trying to believe it himself at the same time. He did manage to smile at her. “Just attacked by memories for a second.”
On her face, “concern” morphed into “uncomfortable” for a split second as she looked away, and she pulled her hand back and placed it in her lap. She looked back up through long eyelashes a moment later and gave him a sad smile. “Yeah,” she nodded. “I can understand that.”
He opened his mouth to reply, maybe suggest they go somewhere quieter, when another man walked up.
The man, who Dean recognized as the one that had stopped Chris at the door, was dressed in a non-threatening manner - faded blue jeans, red flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up - but the look on his face was purely predatory. Dean felt an immediate surge of anger. Christina didn’t belong to this guy; that much he was sure of. She didn’t belong to anyone. (He managed to stop that thought before except me could be tagged onto the end.) He sized the guy up: he was a little taller than Dean and looked muscular. But, Dean could guarantee he had more strength due to twenty-six out of his thirty years being dedicated to hunter training.
Despite the anger, or jealousy, he was obviously feeling toward Dean, the man smiled down at Christina, all traces of “back off” erased from his face. “How ‘bout a dance, Chris?” he asked in the gruff voice typical of small-town hicks.
She had turned from Dean at the man’s approach, and was now smiling up at him. Dean comforted himself with the fact that she looked hesitant about it. She glanced at Dean out of the corner of her eye before replying, “Sure thing, Billy. Just…gimme a second, huh?”
Billy nodded slightly and moved away, painted smile never leaving his face until Christina turned to Dean again, back facing him. The look of possession was back on his face, and Dean could have sworn he heard the man growling.
Chris brought his attention to her with one of those dazzling smiles, this time a very apologetic one. “Dean, I…I’ll be back. Okay?”
He nodded, really all he could do - he didn’t trust himself to speak. She leaned over and gave his hand a quick squeeze before getting up and heading over to the man-beast, who had plastered the smile back on his face and was looking down at the girl - his girl, he thought - in a loving manner.
He turned back to the bar and his half-empty bottle of Budweiser, trying hard not to focus on the lingering feel of her hand. He’d give them one dance and then all bets were off.
* * *
Christina wasn’t sure if she should feel grateful toward Billy for getting her out of the uncomfortable situation or pissed that he’d taken her away from Dean. As soon as she’d walked in the door and spotted Dean (which wasn’t hard in normal circumstances, but even easier in a bar full of small-town regulars), her heart did its best to burst through her ribcage. She was sure that if it had managed to escape her chest, the words “Dean Winchester” would be stamped all over it in flashing, bright, neon letters.
She’d gotten a better look at him than she had in the house the night before, and she really wished she hadn’t. He looked just as amazing as before. There were a few more wrinkles around the striking green eyes, but that just made him look more attractive. And, he’d apparently given up on the longer hair. She had to admit that he still looked amazing, though she’d miss being able to run her fingers…No. This was not going there. Small talk - that’s it. No mention of Jake or how desperately she’d missed him.
She suddenly realized that she was in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by townies, when Billy snapped his fingers in front of her eyes.
She let out a small laugh and said, “I’m sorry, Billy. Guess I faded away.”
Billy smiled warmly down at her. “It’s okay,” he assured. “Is that guy an old friend?”
She looked up and met sincere interest overlaid by complete, unguarded jealousy - which made her more than a little uncomfortable. “Yeah,” she replied, somewhat fearfully. “I guess you could say that.”
He just nodded and pulled her in, so that she was almost forced to lay her head on his chest, and left her to her thoughts. Billy was a nice guy, he really was. And he’d been pursuing her since he moved into town almost seven months before. He was a hard worker, construction. He was great with Jake. And, they’d gone out a few times, but it never amounted to much.
She knew why, though she hated to acknowledge it. It was the same reason she hadn’t made it work with any guy before.
He wasn’t Dean.
“Hey, are you okay? You seem kind of subdued tonight.”
Billy’s voice brought her head up again, startling her. “Um…yeah. Yes. I’m fine. Just a little tired, I guess.”
“Are you sure?” he persisted. “That guy wasn’t bothering you, was he? Cause I can get him to leave you alone…”
“No, Billy,” she interrupted quickly. “He’s fine. I’m just tired, really. Jake’s on a camping trip this weekend with the boy scouts and I just spent all afternoon making sure he was ready. You know how he gets…too much energy that one.”
Billy was about to reply when there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and Christina could see Dean standing there, looking almost territorial. “Can I cut in?” she saw more than heard him say. It was amazing how, after all these years, she could still be totally mesmerized by just the sight of the man.
Billy turned to her and cocked his head. She nodded at him and pulled away before he could even form the words. She tried to tell herself that she was imagining the cold look his eyes suddenly got as he walked away.
She didn’t turn to watch him go; she was still focused on Dean - who was staring back at her. He swallowed, hard enough for her to see, and gave her that smirk that she knew had charmed the panties off women all across the country. But, it was probably a lot warmer than it was for the others. And it held affection, which she sincerely doubted they ever saw from him. It contained a lot more than she could name, a lot of things no one else had ever seen.
However, it was still a Dean Winchester smirk. She raised her eyebrow and laughed at him. Such a cocky bastard.
Dean’s smirk melted into a genuine smile, and he moved in as the song changed from Metallica’s “Nothing Else Matters” to Aerosmith’s “Angel.” They both laughed at the song. It had been playing on the radio as Dean parked the car in front of her house after their second date.
As the second chorus started, he’d leaned over and kissed her, for the first time. She’d never forget it.
Apparently Dean hadn’t forgotten it either.
She moved in closer even as Dean was pulling her in. She laid her head on his shoulder breathing in the scent that hadn’t changed in ten years. She almost laughed when she felt him smell her hair. But the moment was too good and she didn’t want to ruin it - which was ironic because when they were actually together, she would have wasted no time in making fun of him, mercilessly.
As the chorus started up the second time, Dean stopped softly singing along, and pulled back slightly; he pulled her chin up so that they were eye-to-eye. Christina swallowed audibly as her body geared up for fight-or-flight. She’d told herself this wasn’t happening but as those green eyes closed and those lips that she remembered so well pressed against hers, she melted.
The kiss was soft, hesitant. There was none of the passion that had marked their kisses in the past, but at the same time, there was so much more than she’d ever felt pouring from anyone. For the second time that night, she felt the beginnings of tears start down her face.
She pulled away and all but ran out into the parking lot and the cool night air. She stopped just outside the door and nearly doubled over, sobs pouring out of her and wracking her body hard enough that she seriously wondered if she was going to break. She had told herself so many times over the years that she was done, she was over Dean, but the reality was that you just didn’t get over something, someone like that. What she’d had with Dean was something she’d only ever seen in the movies. It was perfect, the ideal relationship. And, it had all gone to Hell because of her; she wasn’t enough for him. He didn’t trust her to let her in on the big secret whereas she would have trusted him with anything. It’d felt like betrayal when she found out later what those business trips really were.
She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to find herself staring up at Dean. She was a little more than surprised to find that Dean had unshed tears in his eyes, and they were the only thing that kept her from punching him.
“Hey,” he whispered, fixing her with a look that contained too much emotion for her to deal with.
She pulled away from him and backed up a couple steps, fury suddenly racing through her veins even as her tears continued to flow. “What the hell was that?” she screamed, refusing to partake in the ritual he wanted. “Why would you do something like that?”
He looked genuinely confused, which only pissed her off more. “What are you talking about? What do you mean why would I do that?” he responded in a voice only slightly stronger than his previous whisper.
She ignored the way it almost broke.
“You cannot just waltz in here and kiss me like nothing has changed, Dean! It isn’t right and it isn’t fair! It’s been ten years, Dean. TEN YEARS.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” he was yelling now, too. “Don’t you think I know how long I’ve been laying awake at night, wondering what the fuck happened to you?! You disappeared, Chris! You were just gone without a trace! I was terrified that you were dead. And, then, last night, you come crashing through a window to fight something that I didn’t even know you were aware existed! So, excuse me for being a little confused!”
He paused and looked at her, heart showing in his eyes. “Then, I see you again and all these feelings come rushing back. Don’t you stand there and try to get all self-righteous on me, Chris. I missed you.”
His words had gotten softer and softer, and his voice broke on the last word. She felt her heart break with it, another crack in the already fragile façade.
“I missed you too,” she whispered. “But, that doesn’t change what happened, Dean.”
“Doesn’t change what happened?” he laughed bitterly. “As I recall, you left. That’s what happened. You just disappeared without a word.”
She returned his bitterness tenfold. “Well, if you had been honest with me in the first place, maybe I wouldn’t have had a good reason to leave.”
They were glaring at each other, bad fluorescent lighting illuminating their faces. Tears were now flowing semi-freely down both their faces as the hurt they’d each caused the other floated across the few feet that separated them.
The only thing that Chris could really concentrate on was the fact that this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Once upon a time, they’d talked of the future, of the life they would have together. It was funny to her now to imagine Dean Winchester with a wife and kids, but that had seemed to be what he wanted, what he’d wanted with her. And, there was still a slight chance that they could have that. But, how bad would things be? He’d hurt her with secrets and she’d hurt him by leaving. Could two people get past betrayals like that and find love again?
Could love travel across a ten-year separation and come out intact? Or was it too much, the distance too great?
She was just about to start yelling again when her cell phone rang in the pocket of her jacket. She sighed and pulled it open, not really checking the caller ID. “Hello?” she said, a little angrier than she’d intended.
“Hello, Chris?” came the tinny voice across the line that she couldn’t quite recognize. It was too altered by distress for her to make out.
“Yes, this is she,” she managed to choke out through the fear that immediately began gnawing at her belly.
“This is Katie, Zach’s mom -”
“Oh…is something wrong?” It was getting harder to speak as the fear decided to start chewing on her throat too, which was tightening to fend off the attacker. She could see Dean tense out of the corner of her eye.
“Well…there’s been an attack…another wolf, it looks like -”
“Oh my God.” The fear had gotten hold of her entire body now and she started swaying dangerously on her feet. Right before she hit the ground, she had Dean’s arms around her, steadying her.
“Jake’s okay,” Katie said hurriedly. “No one’s been…killed.” The last word was obviously difficult to say and Christina couldn’t help but hear an unspoken yet.
“But, someone’s been hurt.”
“Yes,” Katie confirmed, sounding like she’d moved closer to the verge of tears. “One of the boys, Ryan, was attacked. Jake, your boy, he managed to fend the wolf off though. Ryan’s in pretty bad condition. He and Jake had walked off to find some branches or something when the animal came out of nowhere, according to Jake. Ryan…he’s…they just took him to the hospital…”
Christina didn’t need any more details. She just needed to get her son. “Where are you? Where should I come?”
“We’re at the ranger’s station, just outside of town.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” she said and disconnected the call without formality.
She turned into Dean and grabbed onto him burying her face in his leather jacket, trying to stop the tears that had started coming harder. Dean just held onto her, running his fingers through her hair like he used to whenever she’d gotten upset, even over something as trivial as a bad grade.
After a few minutes of Dean’s shushing and Christina’s muffled sniffling, she pulled back and looked up at him with a teary smile. “Thanks,” she muttered.
He smiled warmly at her. “What happened?”
She took a deep breath and began to give him the skeleton of the story, being careful not to mention “my son.” She also kept out the fact that she knew a little more than what she’d been told. This wasn’t the first wolf attack in the area.
“…and so, I have to pick up my -” Ooh, so close. “I need to go, there’s a kid there that I’m responsible for...”
She trailed off and then turned to run back to her apartment building to fetch her car.
“Chris!” Dean yelled, stopping her.
She turned and suddenly realized that he also seemed to be a little more knowledgeable than he was letting on.
“I’ll go with you. Let’s take the Impala. Have to swing by and get Sammy first…”
She stomped back up to him quickly, cowboy boots clicking with each step. “You know about the attacks, don’t you? You didn’t come here just for the witch,” she all but accused.
He gave her a sheepish grin and actually scuffed his boot on the ground. “Yeah…”
She let her breath out explosively and forced out through gritted teeth, “Fine. But I’m driving.”
She didn’t give him a chance to respond, just grabbed the keys out of his hand and headed toward the black car gleaming in the dark parking lot, leaving him to follow in her wake.
Part Two
* * * * * * * * * * * *
As usual, feedback is always appreciated! Especially with this one, lol! :)
Author: thelonejuliet
Characters: Sam, Dean, OFCs galore
Pairing: Dean/OFC, mentions of Sam/Jess, Dean/Cassie
Overall Word Count: 41,755
Rating: Anywhere from PG-13 to NC-17, in different parts.
Warnings: Violence, gore, language, explicit sex
Spoilers: Anything up to the end of Season 2 is probably fair game.
Disclaimer: Sam and Dean aren’t mine - they belong to Kripke. However, Christina and Jake (and the other OFCs) are mine and I adore them and will protect them with my life! :)
Author's Note(s): *wipes sweat* It’s done! My BigBang fic is finished! This has been months of hard work and stress, but I’m happy with how the whole thing turned out. I have been worried that no one would read it, due to the severe lack of wincest, but that’s okay. I’m still proud of myself for having accomplished it! Go me! ^_^
Thanks to tempestquill, for the beta work and encouragement and answering of repeat questions over the past few months, lol. Thanks HJO! You’re awesome. As usual. :)
And, of course, I can’t forget the darling emmybuns696! She took on the challenge of beta with very little time left and put in so much work without complaining, though I was probably annoying the crap out of her. :) Thank you SO much, Emily, I loved your input and ideas! *hugs*
And, of course, the AWESOME artists: smth_blue ( and heart_cries for their beautiful work and interpretation of my story. It makes everything so much better!
smth_blue’s work.
heart_cries’s work.
(And both pictures are at the end of the story! :) )
All fics found here.
Summary: When Sam and Dean travel to Kentucky for a routine hunt, they find more than they bargain for in the reappearance of an old friend. The threads of long-hidden secrets begin to unravel, one of which will change all their lives forever.
Chapter One
“Dean!” he faintly heard Sam shout across the wind roaring through the old house.
The witch they were trying to get rid of was putting up one hell of a fight. As soon as the brothers walked in the front door, things had started flying. Objects ranging from porcelain dolls to pieces of furniture were now soaring through the air with the speed of a tornado, causing Dean and Sam to plaster themselves to the walls, out of self-preservation more than from the force of the wind.
Dean was just about to scream back to his brother when everything suddenly went still. There was a loud crash as everything landed on the floor. The brothers looked skeptically at one another from their opposite walls, waiting for the other shoe to drop. Witches didn’t just stop trying to kill people. So, either something had happened to her or she had some new trick up her sleeve.
Dean was betting on the latter.
Suddenly a low growling filled the room, and two massive black dogs appeared at each door to the living room. The witch was behind the one advancing on Sam, slowly following it into the room with a wicked grin spread across her once-pretty features.
Just when the dogs were about to leap for the Winchesters’ throats, the window on the wall between them exploded inwards, bringing a girl in with the shards of glass.
The witch was startled, as were the dogs. She looked up and her eyes widened, in what Dean believed to be recognition, right before she lunged at the intruder. “You!” she screamed as she covered the distance. “You’re the one trying to stop me!”
He forgot all about the snarling beast in front of him and was just about to jump between the two women when the brunette stranger yelled, “Dean, stop! I’ve got her!”
He stopped short, from the surprise of hearing his name called by a total stranger instead of the actual command - and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d heard that voice before. He watched as the brunette, whose back was to him, pulled a gun out of the waistband of her jeans and fired two bullets into the witch’s chest.
The witch fell to the ground, twitching and breathing shallowly, but not yet dead. The girl yelled for Sam to throw her the shovel she’d dropped in the midst of her flight, and Sam conceded without hesitation. Dean thought that Sam recognized her, too, and he could actually see her face.
The girl caught the shovel in mid-air, then, in one smooth motion, turned and slammed it into the witch’s neck, immediately severing her head and stilling her movements; the dogs, who’d stopped their snarling with the loss of the witch’s concentration, vanished with the disconnection of the spinal cord.
The girl pulled the shovel out of the bloody mess and threw it down next to the body. When she turned to face them, Dean’s breath caught in his throat as he finally placed the voice with the face. She smiled at both men and said cheerily, “Well, boys, I trust you to burn all this for me. Bye Sam, Dean.”
Then she climbed back out of the window and disappeared into the night, leaving Dean staring open-mouthed at the space she’d previously occupied. That was…but, no…it couldn’t be…could it?
Sam’s hand on his shoulder made him jump, and he could hear Sam’s chuckle, but it sounded far away.
Then Sam spoke and he sounded serious, bringing Dean’s focus crashing down. “Dean. You, uh…you know who that was, don’t you?” he asked warily.
Dean nodded as memories of Kansas nights from long ago filled his head: flashes of a warm body in the backseat of the Impala, a head full of silken brown hair on his shoulder as they stared up at the sky, a boutonniere being pinned on his tux, loving embraces after a nasty hunt…an empty house with dark windows staring back at him.
“Christina,” he choked out. “That was Christina West.”
* * *
As the motel door closed behind him with a soft click, Sam took a moment to actually look at his brother. Dean had become distant as soon as he’d realized who had just saved their lives. Not that Sam could blame him for being stuck inside his own head. He would have been a little shell-shocked, too.
“Dean,” he ventured, “are you sure you’re okay?”
“Fine, Sammy,” Dean replied, softer than Sam had ever heard him speak.
“At least now you know she’s okay…”
Sam trailed off, not sure what else he could say. He knew there was no real comfort for the situation. How do you deal with the reappearance of someone you’d long thought dead? Especially when you were once crazy in love with them?
“Yeah…now I know…” Sam looked away as Dean stood up, rubbing his eyes furiously; he knew Dean wouldn’t want him to see the tears threatening to spill. “I’m going to hop in the shower…can’t sleep now…
“We’ll do some more research on the werewolves in the morning, okay?”
Sam nodded and got ready for bed. He figured he probably wasn’t going to sleep much either, too many unanswered questions running through his head, same as Dean.
Where had she been all this time? Why had she disappeared like she had? He’d once considered Christina his best friend, and to see her after so much time had passed…He’d spent years wondering if she was okay, if she was alive…years praying that her disappearance didn’t have anything to do with them and their never-ending quest.
A wave of guilt swept over him right before he slipped off into sleep. Sure, he’d lost his good friend. But Dean? Dean had lost so much more.
* * *
“Come on, Jake! You should be ready by now!” Christina yelled as the knock on the door sounded a second time. “They’re here to get you!”
She sighed as she walked down the short hall to her son’s room. She stopped at the threshold and was nearly run over as Jake came barreling out to answer the front door. She laughed and followed him back to the entranceway of their tiny apartment.
Her heart stopped as she saw the hulking figure in the doorway, causing her legs and all thought processes to stop as well.
Sam Winchester turned his attention away from Jake and his idle chatter to smile down at Christina, who’d managed to stop right behind the nine-year-old boy.
Jake twisted to look up at his mother, to question her without a word. Christina forced a smile onto her face and nodded at the boy. “Go finish packing,” she told him.
He gave her a big smile, before turning to the man in the doorway. He looked up and said, “Come in Sammy,” before running back to his room.
Christina felt her heart start up again at those words as she glared at Jake’s retreating back, pumping blood almost too fast and making her feel lightheaded. Why did her son not know when to keep his mouth shut? She doubted that Sam had introduced himself - besides the fact that Jake usually didn’t let anyone else get a word in, there wasn’t enough time before she’d caught up - and he wouldn’t have called himself “Sammy.” This was confirmed when she turned to Sam to find him looking at her with a mixture of confusion and amusement. She hoped that maybe he just chalked it up to old pictures and relayed memories.
She gave him a tight-lipped smile that was really more of a grimace and stepped back to let him into the apartment. He stepped in and immediately enveloped her 5’4” frame in a hug, forcing her breath out in a relived laugh.
“Well, you certainly grew into those long limbs, didn’t you Sam?” she said as he pulled back, his warm laughter tickling her ears and infusing her with a sudden, overwhelming sense of joy.
“Looks like I did, Chris,” he replied. “You look great.” He smiled down at her, hazel eyes alive and sparkling.
She somehow managed to hide the effects of the sudden onslaught of visions from a time when Sam wasn’t so mirthful and full of life. All she wanted to do was express her sympathy at the loss of his girlfriend and pull the young man to her. She didn’t want the Winchesters to know about her abilities just yet, though - if ever. Of course, it seemed like her son was determined to expose them both anyway.
She shook her head once the visions and the subsequent emotion had subsided, slight enough that Sam wouldn’t notice. “So,” she said firmly to bring his attention back to her and away from his observations of her poorly furnished living room, “what brings you two to Warsaw?”
Sam gave her a blank stare - possibly because it should have been an obvious answer. But, Christina knew that they didn’t know that she knew about their being hunters. They probably thought that she was operating under the belief that they were just unlucky enough to be in the house when the witch attacked.
“Let me guess,” she stated wryly, surprised at the sarcasm in her voice. Okay, so maybe it was time to admit that she was a little bitter about past secrets. “Business.”
She rolled her eyes and headed for the kitchen, fully expecting Sam to follow. She grabbed two cans of Pepsi from the fridge and placed them on the counter. She was just hopping up next to them when he walked in.
“Chris, we -”
“I know, Sam,” she cut him off and offered up one can of soda.
“You know?” he asked dubiously, accepting the soda and popping it open, leaning against the stove directly across from Christina in the small space.
Christina let out a small huff of laughter - and made a mental note to work on that bitter thing. “Of course I know Sam,” she replied calmly. “I’m not the same little Kansas girl you remember. You and Dean are hunters. So was your father.” And, after a short pause, “I’m sorry about his passing.”
She looked up through her bangs as she popped open her own soda and almost laughed at the expression on Sam’s face. He looked on the verge of a heart attack, bright blue can halfway to his lips, eyes the size of monster-truck tires.
When he started sputtering and almost dropped the soda back on the stove, she finally let out a chuckle. “You okay there, Sammy boy? You look like you’ve seen a ghost…and there’d better not be one here after all the charms I’ve put around the house.”
Sam blinked a couple times before his eyes finally seemed to focus again and he was staring directly at her. “I…you…no…you couldn’t…how did you…have you always…?” he stuttered.
She let out a deep sigh and jumped off the counter. It looked like it was time to ‘fess up - before Sam fell dead on her kitchen floor. She so did not need Dean on her case for the death of his beloved Sammy.
“No, Sam,” she began, “I haven’t always known. If I did, I probably would have been a little more freaked out back then, don’t you think? I mean, to say the least.”
At Sam’s stony silence, she continued, “I’m a psychic. Like you. Well, sort of. I don’t have that whole ‘dark side’ thing looming over my head, but I do have powers -”
She was momentarily interrupted as Jake ran to the front door, reaching it just as a knock sounded from the other side, and yelled “Bye Mom! Bye Uncle Sam!” before running out and slamming the door behind him.
“- like my son,” she finished grudgingly, wincing at Jake’s final words. She fearfully glanced back to Sam, who was suddenly far too close. She backed up a few steps, back hitting the counter.
Jake’s words brought Sam out of his stunned reverie and he squeaked, “Did he just call me Uncle Sam?”
Christina tried to take another step back, which was impossible of course, as her eyes shifted from place to place, never focusing on Sam for more than a nanosecond. “Yes,” she forced out through gritted teeth, “and I’m going to kill him for it later.”
“So…wait,” Sam started as Christina got back up on the counter and focused her eyes on the floor. “But, that would mean…you said he’s a psychic…so then…he would know…wouldn’t he? And that means…then Dean is…”
He trailed off and turned to stare at the front door. Well, he looked like he was staring at the door; she figured he wasn’t really seeing the door and was looking at some point only he could see. He could have been looking at Mars for all she knew. And, in the meantime, she found herself praying that she could sink into the floor. Or, maybe she could get the refrigerator to fall over on her…
She was stopped short of using her telekinesis to say “goodbye” to the cruel, cruel world by Sam’s sudden presence right in front of her. He lifted her chin, forcing her to look up, and she was surprised by the clarity, the understanding - and, mostly, the lack of judgment - in his eyes.
“That’s why you left,” he whispered. It wasn’t a question, barely even a statement. It was just a soft realization, probably spoken more to himself than to her.
She knew that she was doomed and nodded. “That’s why I left,” she confirmed, still staring into the hazel depths that had seen far too much heartache in their lifetime. She knew that her own dark brown ones were showing the same thing.
He nodded slightly and leaned forward to give her another hug, for which she was more than grateful. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, happy to have her old friend with her once again. She’d missed him - missed both of them - more than she would ever admit to them or herself. When her powers had cropped up, she had wished on every star in the sky that they’d find her, so she wouldn’t have to learn how to be a hunter all by herself. But, it had to be on their terms; she refused to go looking for them.
“So,” Sam said after a few minutes as he pulled back. “Tell me about it?”
Christina smiled up at him and hopped down. “You hungry?” she asked. “It’s almost dinner time - and I’m sure it’s been too long since you’ve had a good home-cooked meal.”
He returned her smile in full force. “Yeah it has. Sounds great. Dean won’t miss me.”
“Well, good,” she stated happily as she began pulling out dishes, steadfastly ignoring the feeling that Dean’s name brought. “Is spaghetti okay with you?”
“That sounds wonderful.”
“Spaghetti it is!”
The two busied about the kitchen, getting the noodles cooked and the sauce simmering. They made light conversation for the most part, swapping stories about their coolest - or most embarrassing - hunts. It wasn’t until they sat down to dinner that the whole sordid tale of years ago was brought up.
As they sat over big heaping bowls of spaghetti and garlic bread, Christina told Sam how she’d ended up in Warsaw, Kentucky. She and Dean had dated her entire senior year, having met each other through Sam, who was in her AP Biology class. Dean had been the cool, older guy while Sam was the shy, geeky type and she was right smack in the middle of them, both in personality and in age. She and Sam had started off as friends and fate had intervened at a study date when Dean came to collect his little brother from the library. She’d been immediately attracted to him, as most girls were. But he didn’t treat her like a conquest, which had been a surprise to both she and Sam.
Dean actually wanted to date her, not just have her.
She fell for Dean, with his rough exterior and soft interior, hard and fast. They were nearly inseparable, even with Dean’s frequent out-of-town “business” trips. Sure, she was suspicious. But in her love-blinded naïveté, she’d trusted him and believed that he would lay out his secrets for her to see when he saw fit to do so.
Then, about a month after graduation, while Dean was away on another business trip, she collapsed at work. Her sister, Kim, took her to the doctor, and she was forced to succumb to a truth that she’d already known, but was too afraid to admit - she was pregnant. Kim told their parents and, within a week, they were gone.
It wasn’t their decision to move, though. Christina had urged them to, and it wasn’t hard to convince them; her parents had never liked Dean, seeing him as a rebel-type instead of the real Dean that she’d gotten to see. She didn’t want to give the baby up; she loved Dean far too much and to have this little piece of him was sufficient. But, she didn’t want Dean to stay with her out of obligation. She couldn’t have handled that.
So, they’d moved to Florence, a little city in Northern Kentucky, and she’d enrolled at Northern Kentucky University, undeclared. A few months later, six months into her pregnancy, she’d started to have strange dreams - about ghosts and poltergeists and all sorts of things she didn’t have a name for. Then they started happening during the day: people in trouble, monsters roaming about. It had scared her beyond reason, as it would most people.
Then, one day, she’d had a vision of Dean, of what it was that he really did on those business trips. And she’d understood what it was that she had to do: become a hunter herself. After Jake was born, she’d declared her major as classics and mythology and started to get into shape. She got a personal trainer and found a couple hunters that would help her out, whenever they passed through. By the time Jake was a year old, she could hold her own with some of the fiercest hunters she’d met and was steadily approaching the Winchesters in skill.
After she graduated, she paid her bills and kept food on the tables by investigating “weird” occurrences and writing articles for various magazines and textbooks. Sometimes she would even travel to do a paid job, or teach a class or two at some distant university.
When Jake was five years old, she’d discovered Warsaw, not 45 minutes from her parents’ house in Florence. It was a magnet for supernatural activity. Since she’d relocated herself and Jake to the one-horse town, barely a week had gone by when there wasn’t something to kill or vanquish, regardless of how big or small.
And she loved it.
She learned to hone her powers and use them to her advantage. On top of the psychic visions, she was also telekinetic and telepathic, just like Jake. The visions were how she had known the Winchesters would be in town, and that they’d need help.
“So, let me get this straight,” Sam said slowly after she’d finished her story. Dinner was over and they were side by side at the sink, washing the dishes. “You…what…inherited Jake’s powers? Simply by carrying him?”
“Well,” Christina said thoughtfully, frowning as though it would make her mind give her the right words. “The way it works…things pass back and forth between mother and child. There are diseases that can be passed from one to the other, so why not psychic powers? I mean, it makes sense if you really think about it.”
Sam nodded his head slightly, thinking it over. “I guess it does,” he replied after a few moments of companionable silence.
After a few more minutes, when the summer sky was finally turning dark, Sam placed the last plate on the towel to dry and pulled his keys from his pocket. “I should be going,” he mumbled with a great sigh; she smiled at the obvious reluctance in his voice. “It’s getting late and I’ve probably been here for at least five hours. Dean’ll be wondering where I am by now, surely. Sammy not being there makes him a little antsy.”
Christina laughed and threw her still-wet hands around his neck, pulling him down for a hug. “I’ve missed you, Sam Winchester,” she murmured into his hair.
And she had. Dean was her boyfriend, her lover, but Sam was her friend, the one she counted on. She wouldn’t have survived her senior year without Sam’s loyalty - and his brains, of course - on her side.
“I’ve missed you, too” came the muffled reply.
She pulled back, with a small smile. He nodded at her and headed toward the front door, swinging his keys.
She followed, and as he started down the steps to the second floor, she called, “Hey Sam! Don’t you two be strangers, huh?”
He smiled at her and she felt sure that she’d never see either one of them again. Sam would keep the secret of Jake and the Brothers Winchester would be on to the next town, the next job, the next damsel-in-distress.
She closed the door and leaned against it, finally letting the tears flow down her cheeks, completely unchecked. She’d wanted to see Dean again for so long; now he was two miles away and she couldn’t even bring herself to speak to him. She knew what would happen if she did - she’d fall all over again. She’d been lucky the first time around; she hadn’t had to say goodbye. This time she would have to, and she knew that she’d never be able to do it, especially with Jake’s feelings in the mix. She would cry and beg and plead with him to stay with them - and that wasn’t an option. It was best for everyone if they just went their separate ways. Jake had lived this long without a father, right? Introducing Dean into his life now would only complicate matters.
At least that’s what she told herself as she willed the waterworks to stop.
She needed a drink. A strong one. Maybe four strong ones.
She slipped into her bedroom and changed out of the jeans and T-shirt she’d been wearing, slipping into her favorite black dress. It was a loose enough skirt to be able to twirl and have it spin around her, one of her favorite things about childhood. She pulled on her cowboy boots, grabbed her keys, her jacket and her phone and walked out the door.
It was a nice June night and the bar was only a few blocks away. She was going to try - again - to drown out a memory that, she knew, would never truly go away. But, hey, a girl could try, right? Who cares if she’d been trying for ten years?
Chapter Two
Dean spun around on his barstool, heart twisting somewhere in the region of his stomach, as soon as he heard someone yell, “Hey Christina!”
There she was, the reason he’d come to the bar. Christina West. She was standing in the doorway, talking to some guy and looking like a dream. Her dark brown hair was longer than it was when he’d last seen her, almost ten years ago, but it still framed her face, accenting her angelic features. Even from across the bar, he could see that her dark brown eyes still had that sparkle, the one that caused her to look like she found everything about the world incredibly amusing at all times. The sight of her was still breathtaking after all these years - and Dean mentally cursed himself for the damn poetics.
She didn’t seem to have changed in any significant way. Oh, he was sure that there were new emotional scars, but she still seemed to be the same loveable girl - woman now, he reminded himself - that he’d fallen for so many years ago.
God, he’d loved her.
She’d been perfect in his eyes. Christina was the first girl he’d met who respected him, and wanted him, for more than the one-night stand he’d become. She’d seen past the good looks, the macho attitude and the incredible amount of faults right into the very core of who he was - and she hadn’t been frightened away by what she saw. She had believed in him more than anyone before her and anyone that would come after; and she possessed the ability to make him feel like the greatest person in the world with a simple smile, even when he was at his lowest.
On top of her wonderful girlfriend qualities, she’d been a great friend, too. He knew that he could confide in her with anything and she’d listen, she’d help. He could be himself around her, completely unguarded, without fear. And, the girl could definitely hold her own. Dean knew he could be crass and his sarcasm bordered on insult sometimes, but Christina didn’t take any shit from anyone. She could dish it out as well as she could take it, and he loved her all the more for it.
Then, one day, she just disappeared.
Dean had gone up to South Dakota on his father’s instruction to help Bobby with a pack of werewolves. When he got back to town, he’d headed for her house immediately, even before going home, and found the place completely deserted. Even the furniture had been cleared out and, ironically, all that remained was a stuffed bear, in what had been Christina’s room, which he’d won for her at some silly county fair that she’d insisted on going to. It was all alone, giving Dean a sense of dread that he’d never felt.
Being the hunter he was, he automatically assumed that something bad - like, supernatural bad - had happened to Chris and her family. Surely she wouldn’t have left without saying goodbye first, right? So, he ran out for the EMF detector. Finding nothing, he’d enlisted Sammy to help research.
But, there was no trace of her, or anything else.
After a month or so, he’d given up the active search and began to work on the healing of his shattered heart. Christina had left - left town, left him; it was the only logical scenario. She’d probably gotten sick of all the secrets, all the lies, and convinced her family to move away. They hated him anyway and her dad’s business had several major locations across the country. So, he’d stopped looking, maybe out of respect for her. Or, maybe it was just the realization that he could never have something like a life with her.
He’d never truly given up hope of seeing her again, though.
Now, ten years later, here she was - the love of his life. And, she’d become a hunter. While he was still a little shocked at how things seemed to have worked themselves out, he was relieved that he might have a chance to make things right. If she was a hunter herself, then maybe she’d forgive him for keeping that secret from her all those years ago; surely she knew what it was like.
Christina managed to dislodge the man at the door and made her way over to the bar. He noted, with no small amount of irony, that the only open space for her to stand and order a drink was right next to him.
She sat down rigidly on the barstool to Dean’s left and half-shouted to the bartender, “I’ll take the usual, Mary!”
The music pouring out of the jukebox - 80s rock - was perfect. Music was one of the things that Chris and Dean had bonded on when they’d first started dating. She was a classic rock fan through and through, but he vowed time and again to never let her live down the fact that her favorite band was Bon Jovi. (Bon Jovi? Seriously? More than Aerosmith or AC/DC or Led Zeppelin?) He still smiled, just thinking about it.
“Wanted: Dead or Alive” began to play and he was hoping it would help ease some of the tension coursing through Chris’ body. She was still sitting on the barstool, waiting for her drink, stiff as a board. She was trying to look anywhere but to her right, at Dean, though he saw her eyes linger on him for a second or two.
Just as Mary came back and plopped a Guinness down with a smile, he leaned over and whispered, almost too softly to be heard over the guitar riffs, “Hey.”
Christina jumped, he figured it was probably due to what he’d said, rather than the fact that he’d spoken. Much like the bitch/jerk exchange he and Sam engaged in, whenever neither one of them could think of what to say, or they wanted to offer comfort, or just say “I love you” without the words, that’s what they would do. One would say, “hey,” and the other would say it back.
He watched as she took a long pull from the green bottle and took a deep breath to steady herself. He chuckled quietly; apparently he wasn’t the only one feeling the unresolved issues.
When she turned around, he was completely taken aback by the unshed tears shining in her brown eyes. And he dared to hope. All of his conquests over the years, and even those girls he stuck around with for a while, had nothing compared to Christina West. He wanted to believe that they could be together again. Hey, no one had ever said that Dean Winchester wasn’t a romantic. Well, besides…never mind.
Christina smiled at him and said, genuinely albeit a little shaky, “How have you been Dean?”
Dean returned the smile and felt his stomach begin to flutter. Okay, those unresolved issues? Maybe a little more unresolved than he originally thought. “Good. I’ve been good,” he replied.
“Good.” She nodded and kept the smile plastered on her face even though her eyes were still betraying her.
He knew he should say something, keep up the conversation, but all of his chatting-up-a-girl or sweet-talking-a-sheriff skills had gone completely out the window when Chris spoke. He figured it was a testament to how much he had really felt for the girl when the macho bravado wasn’t running through his brain yelling, “You still got it, man!” over a loudspeaker.
“…out of town tomorrow, I suppose?”
She was talking to him, he knew; he could see her lips moving. But he couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the litany of kiss her on replay in his head. What would she do if he did kiss her? Smack him? Kiss him back? Allow him to drive her to Vegas and make them legally bound together?
He was brought back from his musings by the sudden warmth of Chris’ hand on his.
“Are you alright?” she asked him, with a look of concern on her face that made Dean’s stomach do that weird fluttering thing again. “You kinda zoned out on me there.”
“I’m fine,” he assured her, trying to believe it himself at the same time. He did manage to smile at her. “Just attacked by memories for a second.”
On her face, “concern” morphed into “uncomfortable” for a split second as she looked away, and she pulled her hand back and placed it in her lap. She looked back up through long eyelashes a moment later and gave him a sad smile. “Yeah,” she nodded. “I can understand that.”
He opened his mouth to reply, maybe suggest they go somewhere quieter, when another man walked up.
The man, who Dean recognized as the one that had stopped Chris at the door, was dressed in a non-threatening manner - faded blue jeans, red flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up - but the look on his face was purely predatory. Dean felt an immediate surge of anger. Christina didn’t belong to this guy; that much he was sure of. She didn’t belong to anyone. (He managed to stop that thought before except me could be tagged onto the end.) He sized the guy up: he was a little taller than Dean and looked muscular. But, Dean could guarantee he had more strength due to twenty-six out of his thirty years being dedicated to hunter training.
Despite the anger, or jealousy, he was obviously feeling toward Dean, the man smiled down at Christina, all traces of “back off” erased from his face. “How ‘bout a dance, Chris?” he asked in the gruff voice typical of small-town hicks.
She had turned from Dean at the man’s approach, and was now smiling up at him. Dean comforted himself with the fact that she looked hesitant about it. She glanced at Dean out of the corner of her eye before replying, “Sure thing, Billy. Just…gimme a second, huh?”
Billy nodded slightly and moved away, painted smile never leaving his face until Christina turned to Dean again, back facing him. The look of possession was back on his face, and Dean could have sworn he heard the man growling.
Chris brought his attention to her with one of those dazzling smiles, this time a very apologetic one. “Dean, I…I’ll be back. Okay?”
He nodded, really all he could do - he didn’t trust himself to speak. She leaned over and gave his hand a quick squeeze before getting up and heading over to the man-beast, who had plastered the smile back on his face and was looking down at the girl - his girl, he thought - in a loving manner.
He turned back to the bar and his half-empty bottle of Budweiser, trying hard not to focus on the lingering feel of her hand. He’d give them one dance and then all bets were off.
* * *
Christina wasn’t sure if she should feel grateful toward Billy for getting her out of the uncomfortable situation or pissed that he’d taken her away from Dean. As soon as she’d walked in the door and spotted Dean (which wasn’t hard in normal circumstances, but even easier in a bar full of small-town regulars), her heart did its best to burst through her ribcage. She was sure that if it had managed to escape her chest, the words “Dean Winchester” would be stamped all over it in flashing, bright, neon letters.
She’d gotten a better look at him than she had in the house the night before, and she really wished she hadn’t. He looked just as amazing as before. There were a few more wrinkles around the striking green eyes, but that just made him look more attractive. And, he’d apparently given up on the longer hair. She had to admit that he still looked amazing, though she’d miss being able to run her fingers…No. This was not going there. Small talk - that’s it. No mention of Jake or how desperately she’d missed him.
She suddenly realized that she was in the middle of the dance floor, surrounded by townies, when Billy snapped his fingers in front of her eyes.
She let out a small laugh and said, “I’m sorry, Billy. Guess I faded away.”
Billy smiled warmly down at her. “It’s okay,” he assured. “Is that guy an old friend?”
She looked up and met sincere interest overlaid by complete, unguarded jealousy - which made her more than a little uncomfortable. “Yeah,” she replied, somewhat fearfully. “I guess you could say that.”
He just nodded and pulled her in, so that she was almost forced to lay her head on his chest, and left her to her thoughts. Billy was a nice guy, he really was. And he’d been pursuing her since he moved into town almost seven months before. He was a hard worker, construction. He was great with Jake. And, they’d gone out a few times, but it never amounted to much.
She knew why, though she hated to acknowledge it. It was the same reason she hadn’t made it work with any guy before.
He wasn’t Dean.
“Hey, are you okay? You seem kind of subdued tonight.”
Billy’s voice brought her head up again, startling her. “Um…yeah. Yes. I’m fine. Just a little tired, I guess.”
“Are you sure?” he persisted. “That guy wasn’t bothering you, was he? Cause I can get him to leave you alone…”
“No, Billy,” she interrupted quickly. “He’s fine. I’m just tired, really. Jake’s on a camping trip this weekend with the boy scouts and I just spent all afternoon making sure he was ready. You know how he gets…too much energy that one.”
Billy was about to reply when there was a tap on his shoulder. He turned around and Christina could see Dean standing there, looking almost territorial. “Can I cut in?” she saw more than heard him say. It was amazing how, after all these years, she could still be totally mesmerized by just the sight of the man.
Billy turned to her and cocked his head. She nodded at him and pulled away before he could even form the words. She tried to tell herself that she was imagining the cold look his eyes suddenly got as he walked away.
She didn’t turn to watch him go; she was still focused on Dean - who was staring back at her. He swallowed, hard enough for her to see, and gave her that smirk that she knew had charmed the panties off women all across the country. But, it was probably a lot warmer than it was for the others. And it held affection, which she sincerely doubted they ever saw from him. It contained a lot more than she could name, a lot of things no one else had ever seen.
However, it was still a Dean Winchester smirk. She raised her eyebrow and laughed at him. Such a cocky bastard.
Dean’s smirk melted into a genuine smile, and he moved in as the song changed from Metallica’s “Nothing Else Matters” to Aerosmith’s “Angel.” They both laughed at the song. It had been playing on the radio as Dean parked the car in front of her house after their second date.
As the second chorus started, he’d leaned over and kissed her, for the first time. She’d never forget it.
Apparently Dean hadn’t forgotten it either.
She moved in closer even as Dean was pulling her in. She laid her head on his shoulder breathing in the scent that hadn’t changed in ten years. She almost laughed when she felt him smell her hair. But the moment was too good and she didn’t want to ruin it - which was ironic because when they were actually together, she would have wasted no time in making fun of him, mercilessly.
As the chorus started up the second time, Dean stopped softly singing along, and pulled back slightly; he pulled her chin up so that they were eye-to-eye. Christina swallowed audibly as her body geared up for fight-or-flight. She’d told herself this wasn’t happening but as those green eyes closed and those lips that she remembered so well pressed against hers, she melted.
The kiss was soft, hesitant. There was none of the passion that had marked their kisses in the past, but at the same time, there was so much more than she’d ever felt pouring from anyone. For the second time that night, she felt the beginnings of tears start down her face.
She pulled away and all but ran out into the parking lot and the cool night air. She stopped just outside the door and nearly doubled over, sobs pouring out of her and wracking her body hard enough that she seriously wondered if she was going to break. She had told herself so many times over the years that she was done, she was over Dean, but the reality was that you just didn’t get over something, someone like that. What she’d had with Dean was something she’d only ever seen in the movies. It was perfect, the ideal relationship. And, it had all gone to Hell because of her; she wasn’t enough for him. He didn’t trust her to let her in on the big secret whereas she would have trusted him with anything. It’d felt like betrayal when she found out later what those business trips really were.
She jumped when she felt a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to find herself staring up at Dean. She was a little more than surprised to find that Dean had unshed tears in his eyes, and they were the only thing that kept her from punching him.
“Hey,” he whispered, fixing her with a look that contained too much emotion for her to deal with.
She pulled away from him and backed up a couple steps, fury suddenly racing through her veins even as her tears continued to flow. “What the hell was that?” she screamed, refusing to partake in the ritual he wanted. “Why would you do something like that?”
He looked genuinely confused, which only pissed her off more. “What are you talking about? What do you mean why would I do that?” he responded in a voice only slightly stronger than his previous whisper.
She ignored the way it almost broke.
“You cannot just waltz in here and kiss me like nothing has changed, Dean! It isn’t right and it isn’t fair! It’s been ten years, Dean. TEN YEARS.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” he was yelling now, too. “Don’t you think I know how long I’ve been laying awake at night, wondering what the fuck happened to you?! You disappeared, Chris! You were just gone without a trace! I was terrified that you were dead. And, then, last night, you come crashing through a window to fight something that I didn’t even know you were aware existed! So, excuse me for being a little confused!”
He paused and looked at her, heart showing in his eyes. “Then, I see you again and all these feelings come rushing back. Don’t you stand there and try to get all self-righteous on me, Chris. I missed you.”
His words had gotten softer and softer, and his voice broke on the last word. She felt her heart break with it, another crack in the already fragile façade.
“I missed you too,” she whispered. “But, that doesn’t change what happened, Dean.”
“Doesn’t change what happened?” he laughed bitterly. “As I recall, you left. That’s what happened. You just disappeared without a word.”
She returned his bitterness tenfold. “Well, if you had been honest with me in the first place, maybe I wouldn’t have had a good reason to leave.”
They were glaring at each other, bad fluorescent lighting illuminating their faces. Tears were now flowing semi-freely down both their faces as the hurt they’d each caused the other floated across the few feet that separated them.
The only thing that Chris could really concentrate on was the fact that this wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Once upon a time, they’d talked of the future, of the life they would have together. It was funny to her now to imagine Dean Winchester with a wife and kids, but that had seemed to be what he wanted, what he’d wanted with her. And, there was still a slight chance that they could have that. But, how bad would things be? He’d hurt her with secrets and she’d hurt him by leaving. Could two people get past betrayals like that and find love again?
Could love travel across a ten-year separation and come out intact? Or was it too much, the distance too great?
She was just about to start yelling again when her cell phone rang in the pocket of her jacket. She sighed and pulled it open, not really checking the caller ID. “Hello?” she said, a little angrier than she’d intended.
“Hello, Chris?” came the tinny voice across the line that she couldn’t quite recognize. It was too altered by distress for her to make out.
“Yes, this is she,” she managed to choke out through the fear that immediately began gnawing at her belly.
“This is Katie, Zach’s mom -”
“Oh…is something wrong?” It was getting harder to speak as the fear decided to start chewing on her throat too, which was tightening to fend off the attacker. She could see Dean tense out of the corner of her eye.
“Well…there’s been an attack…another wolf, it looks like -”
“Oh my God.” The fear had gotten hold of her entire body now and she started swaying dangerously on her feet. Right before she hit the ground, she had Dean’s arms around her, steadying her.
“Jake’s okay,” Katie said hurriedly. “No one’s been…killed.” The last word was obviously difficult to say and Christina couldn’t help but hear an unspoken yet.
“But, someone’s been hurt.”
“Yes,” Katie confirmed, sounding like she’d moved closer to the verge of tears. “One of the boys, Ryan, was attacked. Jake, your boy, he managed to fend the wolf off though. Ryan’s in pretty bad condition. He and Jake had walked off to find some branches or something when the animal came out of nowhere, according to Jake. Ryan…he’s…they just took him to the hospital…”
Christina didn’t need any more details. She just needed to get her son. “Where are you? Where should I come?”
“We’re at the ranger’s station, just outside of town.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes,” she said and disconnected the call without formality.
She turned into Dean and grabbed onto him burying her face in his leather jacket, trying to stop the tears that had started coming harder. Dean just held onto her, running his fingers through her hair like he used to whenever she’d gotten upset, even over something as trivial as a bad grade.
After a few minutes of Dean’s shushing and Christina’s muffled sniffling, she pulled back and looked up at him with a teary smile. “Thanks,” she muttered.
He smiled warmly at her. “What happened?”
She took a deep breath and began to give him the skeleton of the story, being careful not to mention “my son.” She also kept out the fact that she knew a little more than what she’d been told. This wasn’t the first wolf attack in the area.
“…and so, I have to pick up my -” Ooh, so close. “I need to go, there’s a kid there that I’m responsible for...”
She trailed off and then turned to run back to her apartment building to fetch her car.
“Chris!” Dean yelled, stopping her.
She turned and suddenly realized that he also seemed to be a little more knowledgeable than he was letting on.
“I’ll go with you. Let’s take the Impala. Have to swing by and get Sammy first…”
She stomped back up to him quickly, cowboy boots clicking with each step. “You know about the attacks, don’t you? You didn’t come here just for the witch,” she all but accused.
He gave her a sheepish grin and actually scuffed his boot on the ground. “Yeah…”
She let her breath out explosively and forced out through gritted teeth, “Fine. But I’m driving.”
She didn’t give him a chance to respond, just grabbed the keys out of his hand and headed toward the black car gleaming in the dark parking lot, leaving him to follow in her wake.
Part Two
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As usual, feedback is always appreciated! Especially with this one, lol! :)