Sight Unseen, R. Petrafic.
Here we go then.
I wrote Unseeing, which featured Dean making friends with a girl who happened to be blind at school.
In See Clearly Now I had him bump into her as an adult, but probably left it frustratingly open.
This fic has them meet up again. Knowledge of the above two fics therefore helps! As I rewind to show some of Dean’s POV in ‘See Clearly’, Unseeing is the main one you have to know.
Title: Sight Unseen. Part 1 of 4
Rating: R overall. See warnings.
Pairing: Dean/OFC (Petra)
Warnings: Bad language. Sex (mostly in the later parts)
Summary: Dean meets up with an old friend. Despite himself, he wants to see her again.
Please note this fic starts pre Dead Man’s Blood but the events of 2.1-2.4 are referred to, so vague spoilers abound.
Disclaimer: The boys aren’t mine, they belong to the CW
Thanks to elanurel for the marvellous beta, and for being far more patient with my spammage than I deserve. I hug her very tight.
“Who might know more about the history of the building?” Dean gives her a big smile. “I’m just such a fan of this kinda sh...stuff.” He looks around for Sam; Sam’s much better at this. The chick grins at him, and vanishes to go and find some colleague that might be able to help him more. Dean waits not at all patiently, and soon sees her reappearing through the crowd. He moves his eyes over to the woman who’s supposed to be able to help; he sees the hand holding the cane first, and traces his eyes up to see…
Petra, Fuck. Dean watches her come through the crowd toward him, examining her closely. He hasn’t thought about her in a while but he remembers a lot about her, and the memories start flooding back the first time she smiles. Shit, it is her. There’s no mistaking her. Her dark eyes are flitting randomly through the crowd, and she’s holding her chin in that stubborn way she would. If he’s not mistaken, she’s pissed about something. She’s older, sure, but it’s the same Petra. He follows the outline of her curves down to her feet. She’s sexy, grew up hot, Dean registers, and desire stirs in his lower belly.
The first chick and Petra draw nearer, and Dean covers his shock with a smile. “This is Doug Sampson. Doug, this is Petra; Petra will be able to answer your questions about the venue we’re standing in.”
Petra holds out her hand to him, says, “Pleased to meet you, Doug,” and Dean ignores the small stab of pain that runs through him. She’s acting like he’s a stranger, like there was never a time that she told him every random thought that went through her head. He tells himself that it's a long time ago. She frowns up at him and Dean gathers himself, remembering why he’s there.
Dean clears his throat. “Yeah, pleased to meet you, Petra,” he manages, and he takes her hand. He holds it for a long time, and looks closely at her face. There are a few lines around the corners of her eyes now, and he’d forgotten how full her lips were. A frown tugs again at her lips, and he adds, “Very pleased to meet you,” ‘cause he feels like he should say something.
“Have we spoken before, Doug?”
“Maybe, I’m not sure,” Dean says. Thankfully the other woman heads off; Petra cocks her head toward him.
“You had questions about the venue, Doug? I’m sorry, are you one of our donors?”
“Yeah, I’ve…donated,” Dean says. He feels awkward, ‘cause he wants to tell her it’s him, but knows he can’t. He suddenly can’t remember what he’s supposed to be finding out. He can’t take his eyes off her face, and stares at her as different emotions flicker across her face. Ten, eleven years, he works out. He wonders if she even remembers him. He was probably just another friend to her. The case, Dean, he reminds himself firmly. “The venue - I’m interested in anything you know about its history. Anne said you booked it?”
“Yeah, I did a lot of research too.” Petra tells him a lot of information about the house’s history and the family that lived there. It’s simple to find out basic information ‘cause she’s easy to talk to, and she makes Dean laugh a couple of times. He makes her laugh too, and it makes warmth flush through him. It was always good to hear her laugh. She’s good at her job, Dean thinks, if it’s her job to get people to give money. She’s friendly but not too friendly. She turns the subject back to the work they do a couple of times, and he has to turn it back to the venue. She’s avoiding the topic of the people that died there, so he has to ask her outright.
“Yeah, there are stories. Jealous husband kills his wife’s lover by pushing him down the stairs, and ever since there have been stories of similar deaths. Really, I think it’s a case of a couple of nasty accidents. Coincidence.”
Dean replies something about not believing in coincidence, but he’s distracted because he thinks he hears Sam in the distance. Petra asks him about his voice again, and he hears Sam’s shout.
“I gotta go,” Dean says, “I’ll find you later.” He squeezes her arm quickly, an old habit, he realizes, and races off.
**
The girl’s gonna be fine, and people start to crowd around, so they slope out to the car. They're no sooner in it, than Sam turns to Dean.
“Petra? That was Petra, Dean.”
“I know,” Dean answers, and he starts the engine, tearing out of the lot.
“We should go back, we should go say hi, properly.” Sam’s gesturing out of the window, and frowning. “Petra, can you believe it?”
“Seeing as we knew her when we lived on the outskirts, it’s not a big coincidence,” Dean says, but he doesn’t believe it himself. He grips the wheel firmer, ‘cause he’s not watching the road very well.
“C’mon you must wanna go see her,” Sam says. “You dated her when we were kids, right?”
Dean looks toward Sam, and Sam’s trying to look innocent. “We never dated, Sam, you know that.”
“Good as,” Sam says. “You liked ‘er.”
“You were young, you don’t remember right,” Dean says, and he guns the car down the road. Sam whines about going back to see her until they reach the motel. Dean stops the car, and Sam looks at him, but doesn’t get out.
“Let’s go back and talk to her. We can find some lie for why we had different names.” Sam shifts his body so his back’s to the door. “Don’t be such an asshole, I know you want to see her. You can’t hide it that well.”
“Sam,” Dean gestures. “Get out.”
“Dean…”
“Sam,” Dean softens his voice. “I wanna go see her myself, ‘kay? I’ll ask if she’s free tomorrow for dinner or something.”
“Oh. Right, ‘course.” Sam sounds contrite, and stumbles out the car immediately. “Tell her I said hi, okay?”
**
Sam’s still awake when Dean gets back, waiting on Dean so that he can quiz him about Petra as soon as Dean walks in the door. It’s like they’re kids again, when Sam would want to hear all about Dean’s night. Dean tells him that she still likes her music, but not that he could have stayed there all night listening to her talk about it. Dean tells Sam that she’s passionate about her job, but not that the determined look she gets on her face turns him on. Dean tells Sam that she’s pretty hot, but doesn’t tell Sam that he felt like she was a friend again too. Dean tells Sam no details; Sam asks a million questions anyway.
Dean only gets him to shut up by telling him they’re seeing her tomorrow.
Dean makes Sam wait in the car while he goes in to get her. She holds up her face and Dean kisses her cheek, and he wonders when that became automatic. He watches her look for her keys, unable to take his eyes off the curve of her ass in the tight skirt she’s got on, or the show of her cleavage. He swallows hard, and she turns to him. “Let’s go,” she says brightly, waving her keys in the air.
“You look really great.” The words spill out of Dean before he knows he’s saying them. He grins at the blush that spreads over her face in response.
Dean leads Petra outside, and Sam is getting out of the car before they’ve barely shut her front door. Sam races across to Petra, and Dean’s reminded of when Sam used to be unable to control his newly long arms and legs. Sam nearly stumbles and Dean laughs, watching as Sam skids to a stop in front of them. Dean watches Sam crush her into a huge hug. Dean can’t help smiling. Sam hasn’t been this happy in a long time.
They steer her toward the car. Dean nudges Sam to get in the back seat, and Petra tries to protest, but Sam doesn’t seem to mind.
“No, no, like old times,” Sam says, and his eyes lock with Dean’s for a minute, over Petra’s head.
Dean breaks the look. “Yeah, youngest gets the back, Samantha,” he says, and they both giggle in response, and that makes Dean laugh. He lets himself relax, telling himself to just enjoy it, for now.
**
Dean notices the kids staring over at Petra. The only problem with hanging out in the park, is the other fucking idiots that are in it. The kids are whispering, and looking over, and Dean’s tempted to go over and thump them both. He stops himself, because then Petra would know that she was drawing attention.
“Maybe she’ll whack you with it.”
Dean feels Petra stiffen next to him, and he looks toward the kid that said it, that raised his voice too high.
“Maybe. I thought they used dogs, these days?” Dean looks back at Petra and sees sadness wash over her face, then she shrugs, and he wonders how much of this shit she has to put up with.
He gets up, strides toward the punks that said it. “You got a problem?” The kids shuffle back, fall over themselves to get away from him. He clenches his fists a couple of times, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Petra getting up and coming toward them. He makes room for her to stand next to him.
“No,” the second kid says.
“You sure about that?” Dean says.
The kid says, “No,” again, and Dean wants to deck him, but he feels Petra’s hand tug his arm.
“It’s fine, Dean,” she says. Dean turns toward her, and the kids run off. He wants to take after them, and beat them up. Teach them not to be such assholes, but Petra’s there, smiling up at him, and he focuses on her instead.
“Idiots.” He moves closer to her, and touches her foot with his.
“It’s fine, Dean. I get it all the time,” Petra says. She sounds pretty matter-of-fact about it.
“You’d think people wouldn’t be such jerks,” Dean says, “But then I never did get people.”
“Me neither,” Petra says, and he stiffens as she leans into him. He leans back, rests his cheek against hers. “Thanks though,” Petra adds. She moves her face, and he isn’t sure, but he thinks she’s going to kiss his cheek or something. He moves his face away, looks as she smiles up at him, and he doesn’t want to kiss her cheek this time. He leans in to kiss her lips instead. She gives a slight pressure back, and Dean doesn’t wait for any more of an invitation. He clutches her face and kisses her deeply, tongue thrusting between her lips into her mouth, fucking her tongue with his. She opens up beneath him immediately, kissing back with just as much fervor, leaning her whole body against his. All he can feel is her body pressing against his, and her mouth warm and inviting underneath his, then suddenly he thinks you’re kissing Petra, and it makes him pull back.
“Holy fuck.” He doesn’t want to let go of her, so he keeps one hand on her neck and runs the other through his hair. “I…” Dean doesn’t know what he’s trying to tell her.
“What?” Petra sounds worried, and he tries to reassure her by rubbing his thumb on the back of her neck. It was good, he tries to say.
“I can’t stay.” It’s not what he wants to tell her, but it’s all he has. ‘Cause he knows this isn’t a random kiss, not when it’s with her, and he can’t let her think it’s the start of something. He won’t lead her on like that.
“You have to go now?” She sounds incredulous, and Dean laughs harshly at her.
“No, I mean, overall, in general, I can’t stay.”
“I didn’t ask you to move in, Dean,” Petra jokes, and he laughs.
“I know, I just. I don’t want to lie to you.” This really isn’t what he’s trying to say. He stumbles through an explanation, makes an awkward joke then gives up. She tells him it’s fine, that she trusts him, and he feels like he should tell her she shouldn’t. That he’s not worth the trouble he’ll bring her, but her body’s close to his, and she’s soft against him, looking up and just past him. He kisses her again, and it’s more sensual than before. He tries to kiss her slowly, and taste her whole mouth. She moans into his mouth, drops her cane and clutches his body and pushes against him with her hips. Dean’s hard by now, and the need in his belly is nothing like he’s felt before. He thinks that maybe for the first time in a long time he’s in danger of coming in his pants. He wishes he’d cleaned the pipes before he came out.
“So,” Dean says, and it’s not like him to be shy about inviting himself back to some chick’s, but it doesn’t feel right to push Petra.
“Let’s go back to my place,” Petra says, and relief floods Dean’s body. He pulls her along as quickly as he can without either of them falling over. They stop to kiss in her driveway, and Dean isn’t sure how he manages to get her in the apartment without taking her clothes off.
**
Dean wakes to feel a nose pressed into his shoulder, and an arm flung across his chest. He blinks, wonders who it is for a moment, then looks across and sees her sleeping face. She looks peaceful, and she’s making small snoring noises in her sleep. A wave of affection runs through him, and he reaches across and brushes the hair back from her face. She murmurs when he touches her, and he freezes, thinking maybe he’s woken her, but she settles back into sleep again. Dean leans back and watches her sleep. He resists the urge to shift around in the bed, but he isn’t sure what to do with himself. It’s strange to not have the immediate impulse to scramble out of bed, and have to make some excuse to leave.
It’s strange that he doesn’t want to leave. Dammit, Dean, he thinks. He expects Sam to call any time, ‘cause the attacks in that paper seemed pretty suspicious. Dean knows they’ll have to be on their way soon. He can’t stay any longer with Petra than he already has. Dean lifts his head and bangs it back on the pillow, cursing quietly to himself. This couldn’t be a worse time to run into her.
When would it be? A tiny voice inside him asks. You’d never be able to stay with her. Dean looks at her sleeping. She’s someone he could stand to see again. His train of thought is interrupted by his phone ringing.
“Yeah? Sammy?” He sees Petra stir next to him, and puts a hand on her leg to reassure her that he’s still there.
“Dean? I did some more research, it looks like it is a werewolf. I think it’s a full moon day after tomorrow…” Sam blathers on some more, and Dean tries to listen to what he’s saying, but mainly he’s thinking about how this means he has to go. “We should leave now, I’m sorry dude,” Sam says, and Dean tells him he’ll be there straightaway, and hangs up.
“I have to go,” Dean says, and he has no idea how to explain this to her. He doesn’t want her to think it’s because of her.
“Okay,” Petra says. Her voice trembles.
“Yeah. I wish I had more time, but we really shoulda gone yesterday, we gotta get somewhere before… before tomorrow, really.” It’s as much of an explanation as he can give.
“I understand,” Petra nods, but she looks really upset. Dean pulls her into a hug, holds her close to him and hopes that she’ll get that he doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he doesn’t want to go. “I have to go.”
“Okay,” Petra says.
“I’m really sorry, if only I could stay, but I can’t.” Dean stops, hesitates, “My life… I can’t.”
“Dean, it’s fine,” Petra says. “You said you had to leave, and you do.” She sounds like she’s trying to be brave, and Dean tries to copy her. He swallows heavily, and sets about dressing. He has to hunt for ages to find some of his clothes, and get together all of his things. He feels her listening to him the whole time.
“Give Sam a hug from me,” Petra says, really quietly.
Dean goes and sits next to her. “C’mon, don’t make me get all emo with Sam,” Dean says, “He’ll never let me hear the end of it.”
Petra laughs, shakily, and Dean knows she’s going to cry any minute. She’s probably waiting for him to leave so she can cry. He hates himself. He lets her bury her face in his shoulder, and slowly strokes her hair. Eventually Petra pulls back. “I don’t want goodbye. I hate them.”
“Me too, always have,” Dean says, and he gives her a last kiss, then makes himself pull away from her. He feels uncertain as he steps toward the door. “I,” but it’s lucky that she cuts him off, because he isn’t sure what he’d tell her.
**
Dean gets in the car and curses when his hands shake on the keys. He bangs his hand on the wheel hard. “Fuck,” he says out loud, and it makes him a feel a bit better so he says it again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” This is why you don’t do relationships, he tells himself. ‘Cause you have to leave.
Dean steels himself, puts the keys in the ignition, and starts up the engine. He looks toward the house, and peels quickly out of the drive while he still can.
**
It’s Nirvana this and Cobain that, everywhere they fucking go. It’s like giant neon ‘Petra’ signs have been put out everywhere. The world is conspiring to make him think about her. If Dean has to hear ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ one more time, he’ll kill someone.
They’re on their way out of town, thank Christ, when Dean sees the sign for Viretta Park. He takes the turnoff before he even thinks about it. Sam bugs him all the way there, gets out the car and follows him into the park, giving puzzled looks all the way. Dean isn’t sure how to explain what’s going on ‘cause he’s no idea himself why he’s doing this.
Sam gets all emotional at the messages people have left for Kurt and Dean sees his chance. He strides off, looking for something that Petra would appreciate if she were here. He can’t not do this, now he’s here. He smells the flowers before he sees them, and he knows that’s it. That’s what Petra would do. Dean buys a bunch and hopes that Sam’s still distracted but…
“For me? Dean you shouldn’t have.”
“Shut it.”
“Or for Kurt maybe. Perhaps he’ll let you take him to prom.”
“Sam…” Dean waves the flowers at Sam. “Leave it…” He sounds pissed enough that Sam does. Sam manages to stay quiet until they are in the car, then he starts on again.
“Did she ask you to come and put flowers down?” Sam asks.
“No,” Dean says.
“You just did it, because you thought it would be nice?”
Dean feels himself starting go red. It’s fucking embarrassing, having his little brother mock him like this. It’s too much, ‘cause any minute now Sam’ll want to talk about how Dean feels about her, and Dean doesn’t know himself. “Leave it, Sam, I’ll kick your ass out of this car…”
“No, I mean, that’s…” Sam sounds like he’s trying to find the best way to make fun of Dean, and Dean wonders if you can get away with fratricide if you have a good enough reason. “You should at least tell her you left them,” Sam says in the end.
Dean looks toward Sam. He voices the one thing that’s been on his mind since he left Petra; the one thing he can do for her. “I was thinking of maybe sending her a tape…”
**
Dean plays Petra’s voicemail message again. “Dean? It’s Petra, I got the tape, thanks.” There’s a pause, and Dean can hear her breathing into the phone. She takes a deep breath, and then her voice changes in tone. “Dude, you forgot Boston, and I love them, you know I do, so I’m not sure I can forgive that. The rest’ll do though. Tell Sam you can come get the bowl whenever. Hope you gave him that hug I sent. Take care.”
Dean saves it, listens to it again and again. He thinks that he should call her, say hi, just chat.
He’s no idea what he would say, ‘cause he knows she’ll want to see him, and he won’t be able to not have sex with her, and he thinks that that’ll mess with her head. Maybe his own head.
**
Dean gets out of the shower and Sam’s still on the freakin’ computer. “Not done?”
Sam turns slowly toward Dean, and he’s got that guilty look, like he ate the last of Dean’s fries without asking. “I found Petra’s email address.”
“Sam.” Dean wants to call him a few different names, but he throws the towel hard onto the bed instead. “Stop playing fucking cupid, ok?” Or I’ll have to kill you.
“Dean, I’d like to email her, say hi from me.” Sam sounds nervous, and Dean holds his breath while he waits for Sam’s excuse or reason, whatever. “You know, I think of her as a friend, and I’d like to see how she is. If you don’t want me to…”
“Do whatcha like,” Dean says. He watches as Sam starts to type an email. Dean wants to go over and punch Sam. Tell him not to interfere and to let Dean handle it. Tell him that Dean knows what he’s doing. He watches Sam type and he wonders how soon Petra might reply. He might get news of her, and then he’ll know that she’s okay. He’ll be able to tell her things without having to call her or see her. Dean moves slowly across the room, mind racing. Dean reaches Sam and Sam lets him see what he’s written so far. “You gotta tell her about the guy we met in Portland,” Dean tells him, and he helps Sam write the rest of the message.
**
It’s great to have Dad back, but if Dean has to split up another argument between him and Sam, he’ll deck ‘em both. It makes him feel like he’s a teenager, having to break up fights; wondering if he’s gonna have to lie to the neighbors again. Dean wonders how much Petra overheard that she never let on. Petra. Dean rolls onto his back. He wonders what she’s doing. Sleeping. Organizing some other event. Listening to Soundgarden to help her sleep.
Screwing some other guy.
Dean narrows his eyes in the darkness. He hasn’t even promised to see her again. She could be with someone else by now. A wave of jealousy rushes through him and he tries to ignore it. I don’t want anything with her. The words sound hollow even in his own head.
He focuses on Petra’s lips instead, on the curve of her neck. He remembers what her body felt like under his fingers, how every small touch made her moan and respond. She reacted to every tiny brush of his fingers like nobody else. Dean wonders if that’s ‘cause she’s blind, or if it’s ‘cause she knows him. Sex with Cassie was different, a few times in, he thinks, but that somehow isn’t the same as Petra. He and Cassie were never friends. He’s not sure he and Petra are, anymore. Dean shakes his head, thinks about how Petra dug her nails into his back and bucked her hips against his, and reaches to jerk himself off.
**
Sam tells Dean that he’s called Missouri to tell her; that Missouri knew before Sam opened his mouth. They sit in silence while they try and think of other people. There aren’t many. Jim, Caleb; they’ve gone themselves. Bobby tells a few other people Sam and Dean didn’t know about, but that’s it.
“I didn’t know whether,” Sam hesitates, and Dean looks at him. Christ, all Sam wants to do is talk these days. Dean gets up and walks over to his box of tools. He doesn’t ask Sam what’s up. “I wanted to call my friends, to tell them.” Dean picks up a wrench needlessly, then bangs it back down. Good for you, Dean wants to say. “I wanted to call Petra, but…” Sam carries on, and Dean looks over at him.
“But what?”
“I wanted to wait till I knew about you one way or the other. If you’d died…” Sam bites his lip. Dean thinks that at least she would have known he was gone; that maybe Sam would’ve been able to talk to her about him. He picks up the tools. “You should call her and tell her about Dad,” Sam says, and Dean knows Sam’s really saying, if you won’t talk to me, maybe you’ll talk to her. Dean slams the door behind him on the way out. The last thing he wants to do is talk about how he feels, to anyone.
**
Dean asks Sam what Sam could say to make it better, and Sam can’t answer him. Sam can’t answer, because nothing anybody can say can help Dean. Dean tries to throw himself into work, but he thinks about Dad. He tries to get drunk, but he thinks about Dad. He snips at Sam, but it doesn’t help.
Sam leaves Dean in the bar, ‘cause Dean’s taking ages over his drink. There’s a girl eyeing Dean up, but Dean doesn’t have the energy to go talk to her. He’s tried before, and the words fall empty from his lips, and his heart’s not in it.
Dean never thought he’d see the day when his heart wasn’t in getting pussy. The girl is sidling over to him, and Dean turns his body toward her. She flirts outrageously with him, and he replies in monotone syllables. She puts her hand on his thigh, and Dean thinks that maybe it doesn’t take that much effort to get some. She brushes her hand over his groin, looks him straight in the eye, and Dean grabs her hand and pulls her outside.
He’s all over her in the car, but she pushes him off. Now she’s all coy and shy, and makes him drive back to her place. As soon as he’s in the door, Dean wants to get the fuck out of there. He figures he may as well get laid first. She works Dean’s jeans off his body, and Dean goes into autopilot. He reaches for her clothes. He kisses her, kneads her breast, flicks her nipple, touches her clit. She moans underneath him, and Dean carries on, without thinking about it. He’s soon pumping into her, in, out, and she’s warm around him, and his dick’s responding, but his head’s not in it. He closes his eyes, prays just to come so he can get outta there. He tries to think back to the last time he had sex, before the accident, and Petra pops into his brain, even though he’s screwed other girls since her.
The vision of Petra gives him more impetus, and he twists his hips. The girl, whatever her name is, seems to appreciate it, and Dean thinks about Petra some more, and soon he’s coming and shouting his name, or her name, or somebody’s name.
Dean’s off the girl and throwing away the condom before the tremors of the orgasm have fully subsided. He’s angry with himself for thinking of Petra. He’s angry with himself that he can’t enjoy sex anymore, and he’s not sure that’s got anything to do with who it is.
“Jeez, I knew you weren’t the stay the night type, but where’s the fire?” Dean looks over. Whoever she is has sat up now. She doesn’t bother to pull the sheet to her, and her large breasts draw Dean’s attention, then he snaps his eyes back to her face. I don’t want this, Dean realizes.
“Sorry darlin’, gotta jet,” Dean manages, and starts to dress as quickly as possible.
“I figured. The girlfriend’ll be looking for ya?” Dean looks over at her, puzzled. He’s all set to let her believe that he’s got some girl waiting for him, then she says, “Petra, eh? Unusual name.”
“What?” Dean pauses, his hand on his zipper.
“You called me Petra when you came.”
Dean shakes his head at her, and is out the door before she says another word. He gets in the car, and curses as he bangs his hand on the wheel. He must be losing it if he’s shouting Petra’s name. He’s never lost control of who he’s with like that before. Dean puts the key in the ignition and pulls the car out onto the road. He races past the motel where Sam is, giving a quick glance and noticing that the lights are out already. Dean guns the car down the freeway, and tries to work out how many hours it is to Petra’s.
****************************************************************************************
Part 2 is here
I wrote Unseeing, which featured Dean making friends with a girl who happened to be blind at school.
In See Clearly Now I had him bump into her as an adult, but probably left it frustratingly open.
This fic has them meet up again. Knowledge of the above two fics therefore helps! As I rewind to show some of Dean’s POV in ‘See Clearly’, Unseeing is the main one you have to know.
Title: Sight Unseen. Part 1 of 4
Rating: R overall. See warnings.
Pairing: Dean/OFC (Petra)
Warnings: Bad language. Sex (mostly in the later parts)
Summary: Dean meets up with an old friend. Despite himself, he wants to see her again.
Please note this fic starts pre Dead Man’s Blood but the events of 2.1-2.4 are referred to, so vague spoilers abound.
Disclaimer: The boys aren’t mine, they belong to the CW
Thanks to elanurel for the marvellous beta, and for being far more patient with my spammage than I deserve. I hug her very tight.
“Who might know more about the history of the building?” Dean gives her a big smile. “I’m just such a fan of this kinda sh...stuff.” He looks around for Sam; Sam’s much better at this. The chick grins at him, and vanishes to go and find some colleague that might be able to help him more. Dean waits not at all patiently, and soon sees her reappearing through the crowd. He moves his eyes over to the woman who’s supposed to be able to help; he sees the hand holding the cane first, and traces his eyes up to see…
Petra, Fuck. Dean watches her come through the crowd toward him, examining her closely. He hasn’t thought about her in a while but he remembers a lot about her, and the memories start flooding back the first time she smiles. Shit, it is her. There’s no mistaking her. Her dark eyes are flitting randomly through the crowd, and she’s holding her chin in that stubborn way she would. If he’s not mistaken, she’s pissed about something. She’s older, sure, but it’s the same Petra. He follows the outline of her curves down to her feet. She’s sexy, grew up hot, Dean registers, and desire stirs in his lower belly.
The first chick and Petra draw nearer, and Dean covers his shock with a smile. “This is Doug Sampson. Doug, this is Petra; Petra will be able to answer your questions about the venue we’re standing in.”
Petra holds out her hand to him, says, “Pleased to meet you, Doug,” and Dean ignores the small stab of pain that runs through him. She’s acting like he’s a stranger, like there was never a time that she told him every random thought that went through her head. He tells himself that it's a long time ago. She frowns up at him and Dean gathers himself, remembering why he’s there.
Dean clears his throat. “Yeah, pleased to meet you, Petra,” he manages, and he takes her hand. He holds it for a long time, and looks closely at her face. There are a few lines around the corners of her eyes now, and he’d forgotten how full her lips were. A frown tugs again at her lips, and he adds, “Very pleased to meet you,” ‘cause he feels like he should say something.
“Have we spoken before, Doug?”
“Maybe, I’m not sure,” Dean says. Thankfully the other woman heads off; Petra cocks her head toward him.
“You had questions about the venue, Doug? I’m sorry, are you one of our donors?”
“Yeah, I’ve…donated,” Dean says. He feels awkward, ‘cause he wants to tell her it’s him, but knows he can’t. He suddenly can’t remember what he’s supposed to be finding out. He can’t take his eyes off her face, and stares at her as different emotions flicker across her face. Ten, eleven years, he works out. He wonders if she even remembers him. He was probably just another friend to her. The case, Dean, he reminds himself firmly. “The venue - I’m interested in anything you know about its history. Anne said you booked it?”
“Yeah, I did a lot of research too.” Petra tells him a lot of information about the house’s history and the family that lived there. It’s simple to find out basic information ‘cause she’s easy to talk to, and she makes Dean laugh a couple of times. He makes her laugh too, and it makes warmth flush through him. It was always good to hear her laugh. She’s good at her job, Dean thinks, if it’s her job to get people to give money. She’s friendly but not too friendly. She turns the subject back to the work they do a couple of times, and he has to turn it back to the venue. She’s avoiding the topic of the people that died there, so he has to ask her outright.
“Yeah, there are stories. Jealous husband kills his wife’s lover by pushing him down the stairs, and ever since there have been stories of similar deaths. Really, I think it’s a case of a couple of nasty accidents. Coincidence.”
Dean replies something about not believing in coincidence, but he’s distracted because he thinks he hears Sam in the distance. Petra asks him about his voice again, and he hears Sam’s shout.
“I gotta go,” Dean says, “I’ll find you later.” He squeezes her arm quickly, an old habit, he realizes, and races off.
**
The girl’s gonna be fine, and people start to crowd around, so they slope out to the car. They're no sooner in it, than Sam turns to Dean.
“Petra? That was Petra, Dean.”
“I know,” Dean answers, and he starts the engine, tearing out of the lot.
“We should go back, we should go say hi, properly.” Sam’s gesturing out of the window, and frowning. “Petra, can you believe it?”
“Seeing as we knew her when we lived on the outskirts, it’s not a big coincidence,” Dean says, but he doesn’t believe it himself. He grips the wheel firmer, ‘cause he’s not watching the road very well.
“C’mon you must wanna go see her,” Sam says. “You dated her when we were kids, right?”
Dean looks toward Sam, and Sam’s trying to look innocent. “We never dated, Sam, you know that.”
“Good as,” Sam says. “You liked ‘er.”
“You were young, you don’t remember right,” Dean says, and he guns the car down the road. Sam whines about going back to see her until they reach the motel. Dean stops the car, and Sam looks at him, but doesn’t get out.
“Let’s go back and talk to her. We can find some lie for why we had different names.” Sam shifts his body so his back’s to the door. “Don’t be such an asshole, I know you want to see her. You can’t hide it that well.”
“Sam,” Dean gestures. “Get out.”
“Dean…”
“Sam,” Dean softens his voice. “I wanna go see her myself, ‘kay? I’ll ask if she’s free tomorrow for dinner or something.”
“Oh. Right, ‘course.” Sam sounds contrite, and stumbles out the car immediately. “Tell her I said hi, okay?”
**
Sam’s still awake when Dean gets back, waiting on Dean so that he can quiz him about Petra as soon as Dean walks in the door. It’s like they’re kids again, when Sam would want to hear all about Dean’s night. Dean tells him that she still likes her music, but not that he could have stayed there all night listening to her talk about it. Dean tells Sam that she’s passionate about her job, but not that the determined look she gets on her face turns him on. Dean tells Sam that she’s pretty hot, but doesn’t tell Sam that he felt like she was a friend again too. Dean tells Sam no details; Sam asks a million questions anyway.
Dean only gets him to shut up by telling him they’re seeing her tomorrow.
Dean makes Sam wait in the car while he goes in to get her. She holds up her face and Dean kisses her cheek, and he wonders when that became automatic. He watches her look for her keys, unable to take his eyes off the curve of her ass in the tight skirt she’s got on, or the show of her cleavage. He swallows hard, and she turns to him. “Let’s go,” she says brightly, waving her keys in the air.
“You look really great.” The words spill out of Dean before he knows he’s saying them. He grins at the blush that spreads over her face in response.
Dean leads Petra outside, and Sam is getting out of the car before they’ve barely shut her front door. Sam races across to Petra, and Dean’s reminded of when Sam used to be unable to control his newly long arms and legs. Sam nearly stumbles and Dean laughs, watching as Sam skids to a stop in front of them. Dean watches Sam crush her into a huge hug. Dean can’t help smiling. Sam hasn’t been this happy in a long time.
They steer her toward the car. Dean nudges Sam to get in the back seat, and Petra tries to protest, but Sam doesn’t seem to mind.
“No, no, like old times,” Sam says, and his eyes lock with Dean’s for a minute, over Petra’s head.
Dean breaks the look. “Yeah, youngest gets the back, Samantha,” he says, and they both giggle in response, and that makes Dean laugh. He lets himself relax, telling himself to just enjoy it, for now.
**
Dean notices the kids staring over at Petra. The only problem with hanging out in the park, is the other fucking idiots that are in it. The kids are whispering, and looking over, and Dean’s tempted to go over and thump them both. He stops himself, because then Petra would know that she was drawing attention.
“Maybe she’ll whack you with it.”
Dean feels Petra stiffen next to him, and he looks toward the kid that said it, that raised his voice too high.
“Maybe. I thought they used dogs, these days?” Dean looks back at Petra and sees sadness wash over her face, then she shrugs, and he wonders how much of this shit she has to put up with.
He gets up, strides toward the punks that said it. “You got a problem?” The kids shuffle back, fall over themselves to get away from him. He clenches his fists a couple of times, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Petra getting up and coming toward them. He makes room for her to stand next to him.
“No,” the second kid says.
“You sure about that?” Dean says.
The kid says, “No,” again, and Dean wants to deck him, but he feels Petra’s hand tug his arm.
“It’s fine, Dean,” she says. Dean turns toward her, and the kids run off. He wants to take after them, and beat them up. Teach them not to be such assholes, but Petra’s there, smiling up at him, and he focuses on her instead.
“Idiots.” He moves closer to her, and touches her foot with his.
“It’s fine, Dean. I get it all the time,” Petra says. She sounds pretty matter-of-fact about it.
“You’d think people wouldn’t be such jerks,” Dean says, “But then I never did get people.”
“Me neither,” Petra says, and he stiffens as she leans into him. He leans back, rests his cheek against hers. “Thanks though,” Petra adds. She moves her face, and he isn’t sure, but he thinks she’s going to kiss his cheek or something. He moves his face away, looks as she smiles up at him, and he doesn’t want to kiss her cheek this time. He leans in to kiss her lips instead. She gives a slight pressure back, and Dean doesn’t wait for any more of an invitation. He clutches her face and kisses her deeply, tongue thrusting between her lips into her mouth, fucking her tongue with his. She opens up beneath him immediately, kissing back with just as much fervor, leaning her whole body against his. All he can feel is her body pressing against his, and her mouth warm and inviting underneath his, then suddenly he thinks you’re kissing Petra, and it makes him pull back.
“Holy fuck.” He doesn’t want to let go of her, so he keeps one hand on her neck and runs the other through his hair. “I…” Dean doesn’t know what he’s trying to tell her.
“What?” Petra sounds worried, and he tries to reassure her by rubbing his thumb on the back of her neck. It was good, he tries to say.
“I can’t stay.” It’s not what he wants to tell her, but it’s all he has. ‘Cause he knows this isn’t a random kiss, not when it’s with her, and he can’t let her think it’s the start of something. He won’t lead her on like that.
“You have to go now?” She sounds incredulous, and Dean laughs harshly at her.
“No, I mean, overall, in general, I can’t stay.”
“I didn’t ask you to move in, Dean,” Petra jokes, and he laughs.
“I know, I just. I don’t want to lie to you.” This really isn’t what he’s trying to say. He stumbles through an explanation, makes an awkward joke then gives up. She tells him it’s fine, that she trusts him, and he feels like he should tell her she shouldn’t. That he’s not worth the trouble he’ll bring her, but her body’s close to his, and she’s soft against him, looking up and just past him. He kisses her again, and it’s more sensual than before. He tries to kiss her slowly, and taste her whole mouth. She moans into his mouth, drops her cane and clutches his body and pushes against him with her hips. Dean’s hard by now, and the need in his belly is nothing like he’s felt before. He thinks that maybe for the first time in a long time he’s in danger of coming in his pants. He wishes he’d cleaned the pipes before he came out.
“So,” Dean says, and it’s not like him to be shy about inviting himself back to some chick’s, but it doesn’t feel right to push Petra.
“Let’s go back to my place,” Petra says, and relief floods Dean’s body. He pulls her along as quickly as he can without either of them falling over. They stop to kiss in her driveway, and Dean isn’t sure how he manages to get her in the apartment without taking her clothes off.
**
Dean wakes to feel a nose pressed into his shoulder, and an arm flung across his chest. He blinks, wonders who it is for a moment, then looks across and sees her sleeping face. She looks peaceful, and she’s making small snoring noises in her sleep. A wave of affection runs through him, and he reaches across and brushes the hair back from her face. She murmurs when he touches her, and he freezes, thinking maybe he’s woken her, but she settles back into sleep again. Dean leans back and watches her sleep. He resists the urge to shift around in the bed, but he isn’t sure what to do with himself. It’s strange to not have the immediate impulse to scramble out of bed, and have to make some excuse to leave.
It’s strange that he doesn’t want to leave. Dammit, Dean, he thinks. He expects Sam to call any time, ‘cause the attacks in that paper seemed pretty suspicious. Dean knows they’ll have to be on their way soon. He can’t stay any longer with Petra than he already has. Dean lifts his head and bangs it back on the pillow, cursing quietly to himself. This couldn’t be a worse time to run into her.
When would it be? A tiny voice inside him asks. You’d never be able to stay with her. Dean looks at her sleeping. She’s someone he could stand to see again. His train of thought is interrupted by his phone ringing.
“Yeah? Sammy?” He sees Petra stir next to him, and puts a hand on her leg to reassure her that he’s still there.
“Dean? I did some more research, it looks like it is a werewolf. I think it’s a full moon day after tomorrow…” Sam blathers on some more, and Dean tries to listen to what he’s saying, but mainly he’s thinking about how this means he has to go. “We should leave now, I’m sorry dude,” Sam says, and Dean tells him he’ll be there straightaway, and hangs up.
“I have to go,” Dean says, and he has no idea how to explain this to her. He doesn’t want her to think it’s because of her.
“Okay,” Petra says. Her voice trembles.
“Yeah. I wish I had more time, but we really shoulda gone yesterday, we gotta get somewhere before… before tomorrow, really.” It’s as much of an explanation as he can give.
“I understand,” Petra nods, but she looks really upset. Dean pulls her into a hug, holds her close to him and hopes that she’ll get that he doesn’t want to go. He doesn’t know how to tell her that he doesn’t want to go. “I have to go.”
“Okay,” Petra says.
“I’m really sorry, if only I could stay, but I can’t.” Dean stops, hesitates, “My life… I can’t.”
“Dean, it’s fine,” Petra says. “You said you had to leave, and you do.” She sounds like she’s trying to be brave, and Dean tries to copy her. He swallows heavily, and sets about dressing. He has to hunt for ages to find some of his clothes, and get together all of his things. He feels her listening to him the whole time.
“Give Sam a hug from me,” Petra says, really quietly.
Dean goes and sits next to her. “C’mon, don’t make me get all emo with Sam,” Dean says, “He’ll never let me hear the end of it.”
Petra laughs, shakily, and Dean knows she’s going to cry any minute. She’s probably waiting for him to leave so she can cry. He hates himself. He lets her bury her face in his shoulder, and slowly strokes her hair. Eventually Petra pulls back. “I don’t want goodbye. I hate them.”
“Me too, always have,” Dean says, and he gives her a last kiss, then makes himself pull away from her. He feels uncertain as he steps toward the door. “I,” but it’s lucky that she cuts him off, because he isn’t sure what he’d tell her.
**
Dean gets in the car and curses when his hands shake on the keys. He bangs his hand on the wheel hard. “Fuck,” he says out loud, and it makes him a feel a bit better so he says it again. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” This is why you don’t do relationships, he tells himself. ‘Cause you have to leave.
Dean steels himself, puts the keys in the ignition, and starts up the engine. He looks toward the house, and peels quickly out of the drive while he still can.
**
It’s Nirvana this and Cobain that, everywhere they fucking go. It’s like giant neon ‘Petra’ signs have been put out everywhere. The world is conspiring to make him think about her. If Dean has to hear ‘Smells Like Teen Spirit’ one more time, he’ll kill someone.
They’re on their way out of town, thank Christ, when Dean sees the sign for Viretta Park. He takes the turnoff before he even thinks about it. Sam bugs him all the way there, gets out the car and follows him into the park, giving puzzled looks all the way. Dean isn’t sure how to explain what’s going on ‘cause he’s no idea himself why he’s doing this.
Sam gets all emotional at the messages people have left for Kurt and Dean sees his chance. He strides off, looking for something that Petra would appreciate if she were here. He can’t not do this, now he’s here. He smells the flowers before he sees them, and he knows that’s it. That’s what Petra would do. Dean buys a bunch and hopes that Sam’s still distracted but…
“For me? Dean you shouldn’t have.”
“Shut it.”
“Or for Kurt maybe. Perhaps he’ll let you take him to prom.”
“Sam…” Dean waves the flowers at Sam. “Leave it…” He sounds pissed enough that Sam does. Sam manages to stay quiet until they are in the car, then he starts on again.
“Did she ask you to come and put flowers down?” Sam asks.
“No,” Dean says.
“You just did it, because you thought it would be nice?”
Dean feels himself starting go red. It’s fucking embarrassing, having his little brother mock him like this. It’s too much, ‘cause any minute now Sam’ll want to talk about how Dean feels about her, and Dean doesn’t know himself. “Leave it, Sam, I’ll kick your ass out of this car…”
“No, I mean, that’s…” Sam sounds like he’s trying to find the best way to make fun of Dean, and Dean wonders if you can get away with fratricide if you have a good enough reason. “You should at least tell her you left them,” Sam says in the end.
Dean looks toward Sam. He voices the one thing that’s been on his mind since he left Petra; the one thing he can do for her. “I was thinking of maybe sending her a tape…”
**
Dean plays Petra’s voicemail message again. “Dean? It’s Petra, I got the tape, thanks.” There’s a pause, and Dean can hear her breathing into the phone. She takes a deep breath, and then her voice changes in tone. “Dude, you forgot Boston, and I love them, you know I do, so I’m not sure I can forgive that. The rest’ll do though. Tell Sam you can come get the bowl whenever. Hope you gave him that hug I sent. Take care.”
Dean saves it, listens to it again and again. He thinks that he should call her, say hi, just chat.
He’s no idea what he would say, ‘cause he knows she’ll want to see him, and he won’t be able to not have sex with her, and he thinks that that’ll mess with her head. Maybe his own head.
**
Dean gets out of the shower and Sam’s still on the freakin’ computer. “Not done?”
Sam turns slowly toward Dean, and he’s got that guilty look, like he ate the last of Dean’s fries without asking. “I found Petra’s email address.”
“Sam.” Dean wants to call him a few different names, but he throws the towel hard onto the bed instead. “Stop playing fucking cupid, ok?” Or I’ll have to kill you.
“Dean, I’d like to email her, say hi from me.” Sam sounds nervous, and Dean holds his breath while he waits for Sam’s excuse or reason, whatever. “You know, I think of her as a friend, and I’d like to see how she is. If you don’t want me to…”
“Do whatcha like,” Dean says. He watches as Sam starts to type an email. Dean wants to go over and punch Sam. Tell him not to interfere and to let Dean handle it. Tell him that Dean knows what he’s doing. He watches Sam type and he wonders how soon Petra might reply. He might get news of her, and then he’ll know that she’s okay. He’ll be able to tell her things without having to call her or see her. Dean moves slowly across the room, mind racing. Dean reaches Sam and Sam lets him see what he’s written so far. “You gotta tell her about the guy we met in Portland,” Dean tells him, and he helps Sam write the rest of the message.
**
It’s great to have Dad back, but if Dean has to split up another argument between him and Sam, he’ll deck ‘em both. It makes him feel like he’s a teenager, having to break up fights; wondering if he’s gonna have to lie to the neighbors again. Dean wonders how much Petra overheard that she never let on. Petra. Dean rolls onto his back. He wonders what she’s doing. Sleeping. Organizing some other event. Listening to Soundgarden to help her sleep.
Screwing some other guy.
Dean narrows his eyes in the darkness. He hasn’t even promised to see her again. She could be with someone else by now. A wave of jealousy rushes through him and he tries to ignore it. I don’t want anything with her. The words sound hollow even in his own head.
He focuses on Petra’s lips instead, on the curve of her neck. He remembers what her body felt like under his fingers, how every small touch made her moan and respond. She reacted to every tiny brush of his fingers like nobody else. Dean wonders if that’s ‘cause she’s blind, or if it’s ‘cause she knows him. Sex with Cassie was different, a few times in, he thinks, but that somehow isn’t the same as Petra. He and Cassie were never friends. He’s not sure he and Petra are, anymore. Dean shakes his head, thinks about how Petra dug her nails into his back and bucked her hips against his, and reaches to jerk himself off.
**
Sam tells Dean that he’s called Missouri to tell her; that Missouri knew before Sam opened his mouth. They sit in silence while they try and think of other people. There aren’t many. Jim, Caleb; they’ve gone themselves. Bobby tells a few other people Sam and Dean didn’t know about, but that’s it.
“I didn’t know whether,” Sam hesitates, and Dean looks at him. Christ, all Sam wants to do is talk these days. Dean gets up and walks over to his box of tools. He doesn’t ask Sam what’s up. “I wanted to call my friends, to tell them.” Dean picks up a wrench needlessly, then bangs it back down. Good for you, Dean wants to say. “I wanted to call Petra, but…” Sam carries on, and Dean looks over at him.
“But what?”
“I wanted to wait till I knew about you one way or the other. If you’d died…” Sam bites his lip. Dean thinks that at least she would have known he was gone; that maybe Sam would’ve been able to talk to her about him. He picks up the tools. “You should call her and tell her about Dad,” Sam says, and Dean knows Sam’s really saying, if you won’t talk to me, maybe you’ll talk to her. Dean slams the door behind him on the way out. The last thing he wants to do is talk about how he feels, to anyone.
**
Dean asks Sam what Sam could say to make it better, and Sam can’t answer him. Sam can’t answer, because nothing anybody can say can help Dean. Dean tries to throw himself into work, but he thinks about Dad. He tries to get drunk, but he thinks about Dad. He snips at Sam, but it doesn’t help.
Sam leaves Dean in the bar, ‘cause Dean’s taking ages over his drink. There’s a girl eyeing Dean up, but Dean doesn’t have the energy to go talk to her. He’s tried before, and the words fall empty from his lips, and his heart’s not in it.
Dean never thought he’d see the day when his heart wasn’t in getting pussy. The girl is sidling over to him, and Dean turns his body toward her. She flirts outrageously with him, and he replies in monotone syllables. She puts her hand on his thigh, and Dean thinks that maybe it doesn’t take that much effort to get some. She brushes her hand over his groin, looks him straight in the eye, and Dean grabs her hand and pulls her outside.
He’s all over her in the car, but she pushes him off. Now she’s all coy and shy, and makes him drive back to her place. As soon as he’s in the door, Dean wants to get the fuck out of there. He figures he may as well get laid first. She works Dean’s jeans off his body, and Dean goes into autopilot. He reaches for her clothes. He kisses her, kneads her breast, flicks her nipple, touches her clit. She moans underneath him, and Dean carries on, without thinking about it. He’s soon pumping into her, in, out, and she’s warm around him, and his dick’s responding, but his head’s not in it. He closes his eyes, prays just to come so he can get outta there. He tries to think back to the last time he had sex, before the accident, and Petra pops into his brain, even though he’s screwed other girls since her.
The vision of Petra gives him more impetus, and he twists his hips. The girl, whatever her name is, seems to appreciate it, and Dean thinks about Petra some more, and soon he’s coming and shouting his name, or her name, or somebody’s name.
Dean’s off the girl and throwing away the condom before the tremors of the orgasm have fully subsided. He’s angry with himself for thinking of Petra. He’s angry with himself that he can’t enjoy sex anymore, and he’s not sure that’s got anything to do with who it is.
“Jeez, I knew you weren’t the stay the night type, but where’s the fire?” Dean looks over. Whoever she is has sat up now. She doesn’t bother to pull the sheet to her, and her large breasts draw Dean’s attention, then he snaps his eyes back to her face. I don’t want this, Dean realizes.
“Sorry darlin’, gotta jet,” Dean manages, and starts to dress as quickly as possible.
“I figured. The girlfriend’ll be looking for ya?” Dean looks over at her, puzzled. He’s all set to let her believe that he’s got some girl waiting for him, then she says, “Petra, eh? Unusual name.”
“What?” Dean pauses, his hand on his zipper.
“You called me Petra when you came.”
Dean shakes his head at her, and is out the door before she says another word. He gets in the car, and curses as he bangs his hand on the wheel. He must be losing it if he’s shouting Petra’s name. He’s never lost control of who he’s with like that before. Dean puts the key in the ignition and pulls the car out onto the road. He races past the motel where Sam is, giving a quick glance and noticing that the lights are out already. Dean guns the car down the freeway, and tries to work out how many hours it is to Petra’s.
****************************************************************************************
Part 2 is here