Fic: Picking up the Pieces (SPN) Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty
“Dean?” Riley stood in the doorway, wearing athletic gear like she’d just been working out or was planning to. The sun was hitting her in all the right places and it was all Dean could do not to rip her clothes off with his teeth. “What are you doing here?”
“Hey Riles… Listen, I’m sorry for snapping at you on the phone last night.”
Riley furrowed her brow, assessing him, “You look different.”
“Better?” Dean smirked.
“Yeah,” she said, sounding confused.
“Well, I am… better, I mean.”
She scrunched her face up, “What? Over night?”
“I can’t explain it.”
“There’re a lot of things you can’t explain.”
“I know,” Dean muttered, looking down.
“You been drinking?” she asked, popping her hip and leaning against the doorframe, still not letting him in.
Dean cleared his throat, knew Riley was too smart to lie to, “Yeah.”
“You drunk?”
“No.”
“Dean,” she moaned in a way that was so Sam-like.
“It’s okay,” he shrugged, “Really. I’m okay.”
She pursed her lips and muttered, “Why don’t I believe you?”
“I’d like to come inside. If that’s alright.”
She looked at him for a moment, “Sure.”
…
Dean lay on his back next to Riley, hand resting on his stomach, allowing his breath to return to a normal rhythm. Riley was propped up on an elbow staring at him with a smirk and a curious look on her face.
“What?” Dean smiled.
“You just look so good,” she laughed, running the back of her hand across the scruff on his chin.
“Did I really look that bad?”
Riley’s smile dropped a little, “Yeah, you did.”
Dean sighed, still smirking.
“What happened to you, Dean? I didn’t think we’d be able to…” she quirked her head, “for a while. You’ve been so sick, you only just got out of hospital. And your back. I didn’t think you could do… that at all.”
Dean clenched through his teeth. He couldn’t explain this away. He couldn’t tell her anything without telling her everything. And he’d made the wrong call with girls in the past and would not allow that to happen again. Not just for his own pride and selfish ego, but for her sake. She was safer not knowing.
“I’ve just… got some really good drugs now,” he huffed a laugh.
She shook her head lightly, “No, that’s not it,” she called him out, “Something is really different about you.”
“Riley…” Dean started.
“It’s okay. I’ll never push you, Dean. I don’t need to know everything about you.”
Dean’s smile was gone, “You wouldn’t want to.”
“I mean,” she continued, “I don’t need to know everything about you to know the person that you are. I don’t know what you’ve done. I don’t care. Because I know you.”
Dean shook his head, “No, you don’t.”
Riley smiled, “I know you’re a good guy, Dean. A good guy that’s been through a damn lot. So, you don’t have to talk to me. You don’t have to open up if you don’t want to. I’ll be here. Whatever happens… I’ll be here.”
Dean had to blink hard to control the tears that threatened to leave his eyes. He had never intended what this was with Riley to go so far. All it started out as was a bit of fun, something to take his mind off things. Then it became about feeling someone, being touched, a desperate need for human comfort and acceptance. He’d leaned on her more than once. And it had been fun. Still was fun. Now more than ever. But he couldn’t keep doing this. They had to get out of town quickly, burn it all to the ground. He was healed, and that meant everything was back on, and the apocalypse wasn’t going to stop itself.
“Sam and I are leaving town,” Dean said, matter-of-factly.
To Dean’s surprise, Riley just smiled, “I know,” she said, resolutely.
Dean furrowed his brow, confused.
“The way you look isn’t the only thing different about you,” she smirked, “And I kind of always got the impression this was… temporary.”
“I didn’t mean for things to go this far,” Dean muttered, looking at the ceiling.
“Hey, it’s not your fault. Takes two to tango or, you know, have hard core sex.”
Dean laughed, then shook his head gently, “I don’t mean that. I mean the… other stuff.”
Riley’s smiled faded, “I know you do… but don’t tell me you regret that. Not completely. Because I sure don’t.”
Dean rolled towards her, taking her face in his hand and kissing her soft lips, “If things were different…” he trailed off.
“Don’t give me something to hope for, Dean,” Riley said softly.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever be sorry for doing what you have to.”
…
Once Sam had spoken to Riley and confirmed Dean was there he relaxed a bit, relieved that he was in good hands and not black out drunk in a gutter somewhere.
“Sam.”
Bobby was leaning on the wall, arms crossed, staring at him.
“You gonna tell me what’s going through that fool head of yours?”
Sam chewed the inside of his lip, shook his head briefly, “Cas told me he couldn’t cure Dean, not fully anyway. The physical stuff, yeah, but… Dean’s been to hell, Bobby. His, uh, it’s his soul. Cas can’t heal his soul.”
Bobby stayed silent, letting Sam get it out.
“I’m starting to think that, no matter what happens, I won’t ever get my brother back.”
Sam clenched his jaw, feeling the emotion bubble up, tears forming in his eyes, and he looked down.
Sam felt Bobby step closer, “Your brother has been right here this whole time.”
Sam looked up at him.
“Sure, it might take him a while to start crackin’ wise ass jokes and being a general pain in the ass, but he’s still your brother. He’s back from war, son.”
Sam nodded, solemnly, “I know, I just…”
“You just nothing, Sam. We stick through it, together, that’s what we always do. And Dean might never be the same, but that’s life. Crap happens.”
Sam huffed out a laugh, rubbing his fingers against his forehead.
“I suppose Dean’s gonna wanna hit the road.”
“What else?” Bobby shrugged.
“Cas healed Dean. The angels, they’re gonna want to use him again. And Lilith is still out there.”
“Yeah, and you know all too well about that, don’t ya, Sam?”
Sam sighed, “I’m sorry, Bobby. I’m sorry for working with Ruby but I had to do something.”
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t do “something”. I’m saying you shouldn’t do that. But it’s your brother that’s going to tear you a new one for that so I’ll lay off for now.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me.”
Sam looked down again, guilt and shame hitting him like a freight train.
Bobby put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, reassuring him that he was there. No matter what. Always would be.
“So, should I start packing?” Bobby muttered, smirking.
Sam looked up with a strained smile on his face, “Well, we should probably work out how to get rid of the Devil’s Trap on the living room floor.”
…
“Dean…”
Dean thrashed against his binds, but every turn, every tug in any direction, caused searing pain to lance up his side. He was hot, skin burning, sweat running off him, into his eyes. Stinging. He felt the bone is his arm snap, and cried out, trying to curl in on himself to protect the broken limb but he was fixed in place, and it hurt too much to try and move.
“Dean.”
“Please, stop… please,” he begged, voice weak and crackling, desperate.
He felt the other arm snap and cried out. Knives were being driven into his side, blood dripping on his face that wasn’t his blood.
He bucked again, against the shackles, against the hooks and the ropes…
“Dean!”
Dean’s eyes flew open and he grabbed the shoulders of the person leaning over him, throwing them back against wall and holding them there.
“Dean, it’s me. Please. It was just a dream.”
Dean’s breathing was sawing in and out, chest heaving, brow furrowed in anger. He was working on fight or flight. Fight.
“Dean…”
He blinked. Oh God.
He let Riley go and she sunk back onto the bed.
She’d been trying to wake him from his nightmare and he’d grabbed her, swinging her around and holding her against the headboard until he could remember where he was.
His hands were shaking.
“I’m sorry,” he stuttered.
She rubbed her shoulder where he’d grabbed her, “It’s okay.”
“I, uh,” Dean wiped the sweat off his forehead with his palm, “Did I hurt you?”
“No, it’s fine,” she whispered, “Are you okay?”
Dean hunched over on the edge of the bed, facing away from her, his hands gripping the mattress, “Yeah, give me a sec,” his eyes tracked all over the room as he tried to make sense of things.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and he tried, and failed, not to flinch.
“It was a dream, honey,” she said near his ear, “Come back to me.”
Dean closed his eyes, feeling sweat trickle down his temple.
“I should go,” he muttered, mouth dry.
“You don’t have to.”
“I can’t -“ Dean’s voice broke, “I’m not going to put you in danger.”
“Dean, I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me.”
Dean gave a wry smile, “Next time I might… So, I, uh… I need to go.”
…
Sam heard the rumble of the Impala and the squeak of the garage door that signalled Dean’s return. He’d been at Riley’s most of the day. It was getting on for 5pm. He heard Dean’s heavy steps pound up the stairs and the door opened. Sam was leaning on the kitchen counter, pretending he wasn’t waiting for him.
“Hey,” he said as Dean walked it.
Dean glanced at Sam then back down, “Hey, Sammy.”
Sam furrowed his brow, “You okay?”
Dean looked worn, edgy, and a bit sweaty actually.
“Yeah… I’m beat,” he sighed, honestly, rubbing his fingers across his brow, “I think I’m gonna hit it. After that…”
Bobby came down the hall and stood there, looking at Dean expectantly.
Dean nodded a Bobby, then glanced back at Sam, “We can’t stay here.”
Sam looked down, “I know.”
Bobby took a step forward, “Dean, can we pump the brakes for two seconds here? Cas healed you, son. We should be celebratin’.”
When Dean’s head rose his eyes were glassy, “Yeah, it… it feels good.”
“You don’t sound thrilled.”
Dean pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down. He shook his head slightly, “Cas told me he couldn’t fix everything… I don’t know why I…” Dean trailed off.
“Hey,” Sam went to his brother’s side, put a hand on his shoulder.
“Sam,” Dean voice was a soft, painful whisper.
Sam pulled his brother against him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. He felt Dean grip the back of his shirt, and shudder against him as he cried silently.
Bobby was there, close now, his hand on Dean’s shoulder. And the three of them just stood there together, like a house of cards, only standing because they leaned on each other.
…
“Dean?” Riley stood in the doorway, wearing athletic gear like she’d just been working out or was planning to. The sun was hitting her in all the right places and it was all Dean could do not to rip her clothes off with his teeth. “What are you doing here?”
“Hey Riles… Listen, I’m sorry for snapping at you on the phone last night.”
Riley furrowed her brow, assessing him, “You look different.”
“Better?” Dean smirked.
“Yeah,” she said, sounding confused.
“Well, I am… better, I mean.”
She scrunched her face up, “What? Over night?”
“I can’t explain it.”
“There’re a lot of things you can’t explain.”
“I know,” Dean muttered, looking down.
“You been drinking?” she asked, popping her hip and leaning against the doorframe, still not letting him in.
Dean cleared his throat, knew Riley was too smart to lie to, “Yeah.”
“You drunk?”
“No.”
“Dean,” she moaned in a way that was so Sam-like.
“It’s okay,” he shrugged, “Really. I’m okay.”
She pursed her lips and muttered, “Why don’t I believe you?”
“I’d like to come inside. If that’s alright.”
She looked at him for a moment, “Sure.”
…
Dean lay on his back next to Riley, hand resting on his stomach, allowing his breath to return to a normal rhythm. Riley was propped up on an elbow staring at him with a smirk and a curious look on her face.
“What?” Dean smiled.
“You just look so good,” she laughed, running the back of her hand across the scruff on his chin.
“Did I really look that bad?”
Riley’s smile dropped a little, “Yeah, you did.”
Dean sighed, still smirking.
“What happened to you, Dean? I didn’t think we’d be able to…” she quirked her head, “for a while. You’ve been so sick, you only just got out of hospital. And your back. I didn’t think you could do… that at all.”
Dean clenched through his teeth. He couldn’t explain this away. He couldn’t tell her anything without telling her everything. And he’d made the wrong call with girls in the past and would not allow that to happen again. Not just for his own pride and selfish ego, but for her sake. She was safer not knowing.
“I’ve just… got some really good drugs now,” he huffed a laugh.
She shook her head lightly, “No, that’s not it,” she called him out, “Something is really different about you.”
“Riley…” Dean started.
“It’s okay. I’ll never push you, Dean. I don’t need to know everything about you.”
Dean’s smile was gone, “You wouldn’t want to.”
“I mean,” she continued, “I don’t need to know everything about you to know the person that you are. I don’t know what you’ve done. I don’t care. Because I know you.”
Dean shook his head, “No, you don’t.”
Riley smiled, “I know you’re a good guy, Dean. A good guy that’s been through a damn lot. So, you don’t have to talk to me. You don’t have to open up if you don’t want to. I’ll be here. Whatever happens… I’ll be here.”
Dean had to blink hard to control the tears that threatened to leave his eyes. He had never intended what this was with Riley to go so far. All it started out as was a bit of fun, something to take his mind off things. Then it became about feeling someone, being touched, a desperate need for human comfort and acceptance. He’d leaned on her more than once. And it had been fun. Still was fun. Now more than ever. But he couldn’t keep doing this. They had to get out of town quickly, burn it all to the ground. He was healed, and that meant everything was back on, and the apocalypse wasn’t going to stop itself.
“Sam and I are leaving town,” Dean said, matter-of-factly.
To Dean’s surprise, Riley just smiled, “I know,” she said, resolutely.
Dean furrowed his brow, confused.
“The way you look isn’t the only thing different about you,” she smirked, “And I kind of always got the impression this was… temporary.”
“I didn’t mean for things to go this far,” Dean muttered, looking at the ceiling.
“Hey, it’s not your fault. Takes two to tango or, you know, have hard core sex.”
Dean laughed, then shook his head gently, “I don’t mean that. I mean the… other stuff.”
Riley’s smiled faded, “I know you do… but don’t tell me you regret that. Not completely. Because I sure don’t.”
Dean rolled towards her, taking her face in his hand and kissing her soft lips, “If things were different…” he trailed off.
“Don’t give me something to hope for, Dean,” Riley said softly.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t ever be sorry for doing what you have to.”
…
Once Sam had spoken to Riley and confirmed Dean was there he relaxed a bit, relieved that he was in good hands and not black out drunk in a gutter somewhere.
“Sam.”
Bobby was leaning on the wall, arms crossed, staring at him.
“You gonna tell me what’s going through that fool head of yours?”
Sam chewed the inside of his lip, shook his head briefly, “Cas told me he couldn’t cure Dean, not fully anyway. The physical stuff, yeah, but… Dean’s been to hell, Bobby. His, uh, it’s his soul. Cas can’t heal his soul.”
Bobby stayed silent, letting Sam get it out.
“I’m starting to think that, no matter what happens, I won’t ever get my brother back.”
Sam clenched his jaw, feeling the emotion bubble up, tears forming in his eyes, and he looked down.
Sam felt Bobby step closer, “Your brother has been right here this whole time.”
Sam looked up at him.
“Sure, it might take him a while to start crackin’ wise ass jokes and being a general pain in the ass, but he’s still your brother. He’s back from war, son.”
Sam nodded, solemnly, “I know, I just…”
“You just nothing, Sam. We stick through it, together, that’s what we always do. And Dean might never be the same, but that’s life. Crap happens.”
Sam huffed out a laugh, rubbing his fingers against his forehead.
“I suppose Dean’s gonna wanna hit the road.”
“What else?” Bobby shrugged.
“Cas healed Dean. The angels, they’re gonna want to use him again. And Lilith is still out there.”
“Yeah, and you know all too well about that, don’t ya, Sam?”
Sam sighed, “I’m sorry, Bobby. I’m sorry for working with Ruby but I had to do something.”
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t do “something”. I’m saying you shouldn’t do that. But it’s your brother that’s going to tear you a new one for that so I’ll lay off for now.”
“Thanks.”
“Don’t thank me.”
Sam looked down again, guilt and shame hitting him like a freight train.
Bobby put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, reassuring him that he was there. No matter what. Always would be.
“So, should I start packing?” Bobby muttered, smirking.
Sam looked up with a strained smile on his face, “Well, we should probably work out how to get rid of the Devil’s Trap on the living room floor.”
…
“Dean…”
Dean thrashed against his binds, but every turn, every tug in any direction, caused searing pain to lance up his side. He was hot, skin burning, sweat running off him, into his eyes. Stinging. He felt the bone is his arm snap, and cried out, trying to curl in on himself to protect the broken limb but he was fixed in place, and it hurt too much to try and move.
“Dean.”
“Please, stop… please,” he begged, voice weak and crackling, desperate.
He felt the other arm snap and cried out. Knives were being driven into his side, blood dripping on his face that wasn’t his blood.
He bucked again, against the shackles, against the hooks and the ropes…
“Dean!”
Dean’s eyes flew open and he grabbed the shoulders of the person leaning over him, throwing them back against wall and holding them there.
“Dean, it’s me. Please. It was just a dream.”
Dean’s breathing was sawing in and out, chest heaving, brow furrowed in anger. He was working on fight or flight. Fight.
“Dean…”
He blinked. Oh God.
He let Riley go and she sunk back onto the bed.
She’d been trying to wake him from his nightmare and he’d grabbed her, swinging her around and holding her against the headboard until he could remember where he was.
His hands were shaking.
“I’m sorry,” he stuttered.
She rubbed her shoulder where he’d grabbed her, “It’s okay.”
“I, uh,” Dean wiped the sweat off his forehead with his palm, “Did I hurt you?”
“No, it’s fine,” she whispered, “Are you okay?”
Dean hunched over on the edge of the bed, facing away from her, his hands gripping the mattress, “Yeah, give me a sec,” his eyes tracked all over the room as he tried to make sense of things.
He felt a hand on his shoulder and he tried, and failed, not to flinch.
“It was a dream, honey,” she said near his ear, “Come back to me.”
Dean closed his eyes, feeling sweat trickle down his temple.
“I should go,” he muttered, mouth dry.
“You don’t have to.”
“I can’t -“ Dean’s voice broke, “I’m not going to put you in danger.”
“Dean, I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me.”
Dean gave a wry smile, “Next time I might… So, I, uh… I need to go.”
…
Sam heard the rumble of the Impala and the squeak of the garage door that signalled Dean’s return. He’d been at Riley’s most of the day. It was getting on for 5pm. He heard Dean’s heavy steps pound up the stairs and the door opened. Sam was leaning on the kitchen counter, pretending he wasn’t waiting for him.
“Hey,” he said as Dean walked it.
Dean glanced at Sam then back down, “Hey, Sammy.”
Sam furrowed his brow, “You okay?”
Dean looked worn, edgy, and a bit sweaty actually.
“Yeah… I’m beat,” he sighed, honestly, rubbing his fingers across his brow, “I think I’m gonna hit it. After that…”
Bobby came down the hall and stood there, looking at Dean expectantly.
Dean nodded a Bobby, then glanced back at Sam, “We can’t stay here.”
Sam looked down, “I know.”
Bobby took a step forward, “Dean, can we pump the brakes for two seconds here? Cas healed you, son. We should be celebratin’.”
When Dean’s head rose his eyes were glassy, “Yeah, it… it feels good.”
“You don’t sound thrilled.”
Dean pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, biting down. He shook his head slightly, “Cas told me he couldn’t fix everything… I don’t know why I…” Dean trailed off.
“Hey,” Sam went to his brother’s side, put a hand on his shoulder.
“Sam,” Dean voice was a soft, painful whisper.
Sam pulled his brother against him, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. He felt Dean grip the back of his shirt, and shudder against him as he cried silently.
Bobby was there, close now, his hand on Dean’s shoulder. And the three of them just stood there together, like a house of cards, only standing because they leaned on each other.
…