Title: It’s Enough
Disclaimer The characters of Supernatural are not mine and no infringement is intended.
Summary: A look into Dean’s thoughts while he’s living with Lisa and Ben (between season 5 and 6)
It was late in the evening and Dean stood in the doorway to the garage, beer bottle in his hand as he eyed the tarp-covered vehicle by the wall. After he had come here, to Cicero, Indiana, to Lisa and Ben, he’d stashed the car in the garage almost immediately; covered it with the tarp and tried to forget it even existed. The memories had been too painful and it had been weeks before he could even look in its direction again.
The black 1967 Chevy Impala beneath that covering was a symbol of his past life, a life that he could no longer live, not without Sammy. Even the simple act of thinking about it had been too much to bear for the first couple of months. He could deal with losing his mom—that had been so long ago and he’d been so young back then that he hadn’t really understood what had happened—and he could even deal with the fact that his father was gone too, but Sammy as well… it was just too much.
Sam had always been his rock, his comfort; his home. He’d survived Mary’s death because he’d had Sam to look after; he’d survived John’s death because his kid brother was right there with him, helping him carry on; but who was going to help him get through Sam’s death? There was no one left. Well, there was Lisa, but she couldn’t really understand the situation fully; and while Ben was a great kid and proved to be a wonderful distraction for Dean, whether he was teaching him how to fix a car or scolding him for misbehaving, he still didn’t really feel like this life he was living now was real. It was like he was just going through the motions.
He would give anything to have his old life back. Not the life it had become in recent years, but the old life. The one before their dad had died, before hell, before all the angel crap started, before Lucifer and Michael. The one where he and Sammy were a team, working jobs together, hanging out in the Impala as they drove from one end of the country to the other.
The car in front of him held so many memories, both good and bad. He remembered himself and Sammy scratching their initials into the upholstery when they were kids, only for their dad to find out a few days later and get so mad he threatened to ground them for a week… well, that was to say, he would have if he hadn’t needed their help with the next job. He remembered Sammy patching up their father’s wounds in the backseat while Dean drove them as fast as possible away from whatever town they’d just worked a job in, before the authorities caught up with them. He remembered John standing in front of the car with his head under the hood, teaching him everything he knew about fixing engines. He remembered losing his virginity to Rebecca Morris in the backseat when he was fifteen while his dad was off working a job and Sammy was asleep in their rented motel room. He even had a rare memory of being four years old and watching Sammy sleep in his car seat when he was just a few weeks old, while his mom and dad sat up front and argued playfully over some inconsequential thing or another.
His car was his life… it held his entire life story inside of it. Yet now, after losing John and Sammy and practically everything else he ever had to live for, he could barely even look at the damned Impala anymore.
He felt the tell-tale prick of tears stinging his eyes and he clenched his jaw, eyelids sliding closed as he tried to wish the pain away. See, this was why he didn’t come out here too often, why he did his best to ignore the large shape in the corner of the garage as much as possible. Because thinking about it and all it symbolised just brought back too many painful memories.
“Hey,” came a soft, female voice from behind him, as Lisa slipped her arms around his waist and rested her chin on his shoulder. “You okay?”
Dean nodded, opening his eyes again and lifting his beer bottle to his lips, taking a swig of the cold liquid.
“Yeah,” he muttered, his eyes fixing on the covered car once more. “Just, um…”
“I know,” she replied soothingly, before releasing her hold on him and reaching for his arm, encouraging him to turn to face her. “Come here.”
Dean forced a small smile, although he was pretty sure she wasn’t buying it as she slipped her arms around his neck. His hands automatically went around her waist as he accepted her soft kiss.
A few months ago, the sensation of being in someone’s arms like this, of somebody loving him—someone other than a member of his family anyway—had been completely alien to Dean. He hadn’t let himself get emotionally close to another person other than Sammy in years and it had made him extremely uncomfortable at first, but now, being close to Lisa like this actually made him feel safe…and loved. He tightened his grip on her, pulling her as close to him as he could, as he lost himself in her warmth and comfort.
“Come on, let’s go to bed,” she smiled up at him when they pulled apart a few long moments later.
“What about Ben?” Dean’s thoughts immediately went to the 11-year-old boy whom he’d recently begun to think of as a son.
Lisa just shook her head and continued to smile, “He’s already asleep.”
Dean nodded, taking one last look at the tarp-covered Impala, before he allowed Lisa to take his hand and lead him through the house to their bedroom.
That one still sounded strange to Dean, even though they had been sharing a bed for months. Before the whole Michael-Lucifer thing had gone down, he’d never even let himself entertain the idea of a normal life before… settling down, living with a woman, sharing a bedroom, having the whole All-American, ‘Apple Pie’ life had always been something that other people did, not him. Growing up, it wasn’t a luxury he could afford, or one he even felt he was allowed to have.
Yet, here he was, at age 32, living with a woman, being a father figure to a pre-teen, having friends, working in construction… it was all so different from how his life had been a year ago.
He gave another small smile as Lisa led him into the bedroom and came to a stop near the bed. Turning to face him, she gently pried the bottle of beer from his fingers and placed it down on the bedside table, before pressing her hands to his chest and kissing him again. Dean allowed her to peel his shirt from his shoulders, shrugging it off himself when she couldn’t get it all the way down his arms. He closed his eyes when she slid her hands beneath his T-shirt, letting her fingers trace over the prominent muscles of his abdomen as she nipped and sucked at his lower lip.
She tugged the T-shirt up and over his head and he lifted his arms to comply, before letting them drop back down to his sides again as she caressed the bare skin of his torso with her hands and her mouth.
No words were spoken as he let her comfort him, let her take away as much of his pain and guilt as she could with her love for him. He tried to reach for her, to divest her of her clothing as well, but she wasn’t having any of it. Instead, she took his hand again and urged him down onto the bed. Placing one leg on either side of his hips, she straddled him, leaning down to run her hands through his short hair as she kissed him again and again.
Dean shuddered at the overwhelming tenderness of her actions. When he’d first come here, when they’d first starting sharing a bed, he’d been reluctant and uncomfortable being so intimately close with her like this. He had shied away from anything too emotionally deep, feeling too vulnerable and exposed if let his guard down, but the more Lisa had insisted he let her help him, the more open he became and the more he allowed himself to relax and let her in.
His hands came to rest on her back, his palms splayed flat across her shoulder blades, and h relished in the feel of her so close to him. As she continued to kiss him, her tongue gently slipping into his mouth and tangling with his, he carefully eased her thin top upwards. She broke the kiss and sat up to allow him to lift it over her head and their eyes locked, his watery with unshed tears and hers caring and loving. He discarded the top onto the floor and let his hands drift across her stomach briefly before sliding upwards to cup her bra-covered breasts.
“Lise…” he murmured throatily, not really knowing what else to say, but feeling like he had to say something.
She just smiled down at him serenely as she reached around to unclip the bra and let it fall to the bed. Dean swallowed audibly at the sight of her almost flawless skin and his gaze followed her as she stood up and slid off her jeans, before holding out a hand to him and urging him up off the bed. His hands explored her body eagerly as she reached for the waistband of his jeans and unbuttoned them slowly, before easing them down over his hips. He stepped out of them, admiring the pretty, lace panties she was wearing he did so, before she took his hand and led him back to the bed.
They slipped beneath the sheets curling up together on their sides and just looked at each other, sharing a moment. Lisa leaned forward to kiss him again, her fingers gently stroking his cheek and Dean chose that moment to urge her onto her back as he settled over her. Kissing his way down her body, he slowly removed her panties, and then his own boxers before easing himself above her once again. They made love slowly and gently, maintaining the serene, calm atmosphere surrounding them, and despite Dean’s colourful, adventurous experiences with women in the past, he actually found himself savouring this peaceful, tender moment. It was just what he needed and it even made him feel happy and at peace, if only for a short moment in his crazy, dangerous life.
Afterwards, as they lay together in bed, Lisa asleep and snuggled up against his chest, her arm curled around his neck, Dean found himself gazing down at her beautiful face and wondering how he ever managed to find this wonderful woman. All those years ago, back when they’d spent that amazing, bendy weekend together in her loft, he had never imagined that they might end up here.
Sure, his life now wasn’t perfect, not by a long shot, but it was enough.
Hell, it was the best it could possibly be, given the circumstances.
If it hadn’t been for Lisa and Ben, if Sam hadn’t made him promise to go to them after the big showdown, he dreaded to think what he would have become. In fact, he refused to even think about it, not wanting to go down what he was sure would have been a dark, lonely and dangerous road.
No, all he could do was make the most of this opportunity he had now to lead a ‘normal’ life, to remember Sammy in the fondest light he could and not to let the grief of losing him get the best of him.
This was the best it was ever gonna get and he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth. His heart swelled as he watched Lisa, her expression peaceful in sleep, and he realised that she represented everything he’d ever wanted in life.
He realised that he loved her.
Maybe not in that ‘all-consuming’, passionate, head-over-heels kind of way, but right now he couldn’t imagine what he would do if he didn’t have her in his life. He would be an idiot if he refused to let himself love her, simply because of the hand he’d been dealt in life.
Dean instinctively tensed slightly, years of being prepared for a fight still ingrained in him, as Lisa shifted in her sleep, curling her leg around his and nuzzling her cheek against his shoulder, but when it was obvious that nothing untoward was happening, he forced himself to relax beneath her again.
He felt tears sting his eyes as she murmured something in her sleep, her breath warm against his bare skin. The words were muffled, but he could make them out just the same, and they pierced his heart.
“Love you, Dean.”
He swallowed audibly, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest, as he looked up to the ceiling and whispered a soft reply.
“I love you, too, Lisa.”
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