weary_head | (no subject)

He can't remember how he got here.

He'd been walking from the clinic for home. He'd been alone, and then Thrace was there, yelling at him and then grabbing him by the shoulders to push him down. He can still feel her fingers on the back of his sweaty neck, shoving until his head was between his knees. Even now, the simple missive to just breathe is ringing in his ears, but who needs to be told that?

Then he'd been here in Neil's new kitchen, three sets of wide blue eyes on him until they'd been ushered away, and now there's only silence.

The house is empty, Dean realizes. It's been empty for a while now, and there's a bottle in his hands that he thinks that someone gave him, but he can't remember when.

He'd just been walking.

He'd just been walking, and thinking that there was plenty of time. Thirty four weeks of time, two hundred and thirty eight days. It's practically an eternity. He could do anything in that time, make anything, anything could - anything could happen.

Dean doesn't hear his breaths go shallow, nor the wheeze they make on the way back out. He doesn't hear the door open, but it must, because suddenly the air feels a little less close, but it doesn't help. The brown walls are going gray and closing in, and Dean can't even find his feet to stop them.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From:

little_moons

My heart's been hammering in my chest since she found me on the beach. I don't even know how I get here so fast, not pausing to let her explain what's going on. All I know is that Dean's at the house, and I need to get there as fast as I can.

"Jesus," I say, hurrying forward, and I have just enough time to get to him before he collapses. I just barely manage to catch him, nearly buckling under the weight of him myself.

"Fuck, Dean. What the hell's goin' on?"

From:

weary_head

Dean struggles with the hands on him, and it takes the sudden impact with the ground as they both fall for him to look up, fingers no longer pushing but hanging on, twisted up in Neil's shirt.

"M'gonna," he says, "I'm gonna lose them. Aren't I? I'm gonna lose them both."

From:

little_moons

I hit hard, groaning in pain when my knee collides with the polished wood floor, landing half on top of him and then quickly shoved back... only to get pulled back in again. It's dizzying, and for one panicked moment, I don't gotta fuckin' clue what to do.

"What? Lose who, man? What are you talkin' 'bout?"

From:

weary_head

"Faye," Dean chokes out, gripping tighter like he can make Neil understand if he just holds on hard enough. "Faye and the baby, our baby." It's the first time he's said the words aloud to anyone but Faye, and Dean's expression folds. "Oh god, our fucking baby."

From:

little_moons

"Your--"

Oh, fuck. I feel like my brain's slowed down, gone on fuckin' strike, 'cause all I can think so say is, "Faye's pregnant?" And for the longest time, I can't figure out why that's a bad thing. I wanna smile and hug and say congratulations, but he's falling the fuck apart on my kitchen floor. I don't think I've ever seen him like this. Not when Sam left that first time. Not when Angua disappeared. Never. But that kind of shit builds up and now...

Now there's so much more to lose.

From:

weary_head

Dean nods, letting go to push both hands through his own hair, fingers clamping as if to stop himself flying apart. "She's gonna leave. She's gonna leave, what are the odds she gets to stay? Thirty four fucking weeks, she's gonna go and the baby will go, and I can't do this anymore."

His eyes are getting too wide again, breaths too quick, and Dean scrabbles at his already wide collar, trying to loosen it against a pinch that feels like it's strangling him to death.

From:

little_moons

"Dean, stop. Stop," I say, reaching out to try and calm the hands clutching desperately at his collar.

"You don't know that. You don't know." But it feels like a lie. I know better than anybody... we all leave, eventually.

"Where is she? What happened, did you talk to her?"

From:

weary_head

Dean gives him another jerky nod, scrubbing his hands beneath his eyes, but that only makes them redder. "She told me a couple days ago, I didn't say anything because I - she's just so freaked out, I thought we could give her time, and she's - I don't know if she really even wants it, and how'm I gonna blame her?" Having kids here has got to be the only thing stupider than falling in love, no one ever knowing how long they'll get with the people they care about.

From:

little_moons

Dragging in a shuddering breath, I reach out and touch his cheek, my palm sliding along his jaw. I don't know what to say. I don't really have it in me to be optimistic. I could have, a year ago, but now... Now I've got bitter realism and not much else.

"You're gonna be a dad," I whisper, almost to myself, like I'm just now figuring it out, and maybe that's the wrong fucking thing to say, but no matter what kind of place that is, the idea of it seems kind of miraculous. More than that, it seems right. The way things should be.

From:

weary_head

"I am," says Dean, "I am one," because this might be all that he gets, nine months of waiting and then nothing to hold but air, and he's keeping all of it. It's his. He wants it with everything he has, and that might not be enough, and he just -

"I don't know what to do. I want to talk to my dad," Dean exhales, throat closing up. "I want to talk to my fucking brother."

From:

little_moons

Dragging in a shuddering breath, I try not to let it overwhelm me. The unfairness of it. They don't do well without each other, but it keeps happening anyway.

"Guess you're gonna have to settle for me right now, huh?" I say, offering a weak smile, my hand sliding around to rest on the back of his neck.

From:

weary_head

"Yeah." It's a lot. It's more than Dean can articulate, more than maybe Neil knows, how glad Dean is that Neil's still here, still with him for this.

He smiles, unsteady but holding. "I asked her to marry me," he blurts, edges of the smile crumbling around a laugh. "Fucking turned me down."

From:

little_moons

"Maybe could've picked a better time," I say, taking the risk to tease him a little. There's not much chance he was only askin' her 'cause she's pregnant. He's always been the marrying type.

Which makes it suck even more that it never seems to work out right.

From:

weary_head

"That's what she said," huffs Dean, wiping beneath his eyes. "It was just - out of nowhere, I had everything. Whole picture, everything but the white picket fence. It just seemed right, but. She's right. It's too much right now."

From:

little_moons

"So, give her some time. She'd be kinda stupid not to marry you," I say, and I still sound like I'm teasing, but it's true. At least, that's what I think.

"God, the two of you are gonna make like, fuckin' disgustingly adorable babies."

From:

weary_head

They really will, Dean thinks, heart seizing around the hope that the impossible will happen and he'll actually get to meet his kid.

"She's so fucking pretty," he says, "Baby's gonna look like her Aunt Cori."

From:

little_moons

"Yeah, both of you are," I point out with a snort of laughter, ruffling my hand through his hair before I pull away completely.

"Gonna be an aunt at three. 's kinda weird, right?" I grin, shifting over to sit next to him, shoulder to shoulder.

From:

weary_head

"She'll step up," says Dean, a mix of fondness and pride on his face. "You'd be surprised what a kid can do. And I figure..." Dean looks over. "Would it be weird if they were more like sisters? Or brother and sister. I don't know why I feel like it's a girl."

From:

little_moons

"Isn't it suppose to be the mom that knows that shit?" I tease, thinking of all the times he's gotten all nagging mother hen at me. Seems appropriate, now.

"Guess it wouldn't be weird. I mean, no weirder than anything else 'round here."