Roswell Fanatics

Title: FM Radio

Disclaimer: I own the laptop I am writing this on and even that is questionable.

Summary: John makes a decision that changes the course of three lives. Years later the consequences come to a head.

Category: XO w/ Supernatural. Dean/Liz.

Rating: Lightly Mature.

A/N: I know I know, I have two other stories going but I couldn't resist and this is gonna be a short one... the story as a whole is only about 9 parts and this chapter is the longest one... only other thing I can think to tell you is that in this there was never a Cassie.

The song providing the breaks is FM Radio by Joshua James.

I heard about, I heard about your daddy got sick.
Drove down to the river to die alone.

It was loud, obnoxiously so, and smoky too. Of all the places she wanted to celebrate having made it another year playing in the crazy game called life, something that at times seemed like a huge accomplishment, this had not been one of them. But Maria had wanted to go all out and everyone that met her knew that when those words left her mouth, nothing short of a miracle would stop the petite blond from going through with whatever half baked scheme she'd cooked up.

So they had ventured out into the night in search of booze and men folk... those were Maria's words not hers.

Not paying attention Liz once again brushed her hair behind her ear and took a sip of her beer. At some point after they had arrived at this particularly seedy establishment she'd lost her wing woman. Most likely to some ploy thats goal was to rope a poor unsuspecting man into sexing up her 'severely deprived' friend.

Which was a ridiculous overexaggeration but Maria didn't want to hear it. She hadn't been in a committed relationship since Max went missing in high school and in her friends mind some good ol' cathartic sex was needed. The reasoning was faulty and lacking anything resembling logic but, well, Liz had stopped trying to understand Maria's thought process years ago.

“You look like you could use some company” she looked up from her beer and was met with a very attractive pair of green eyes... the rest of him wasn't so bad either, “Dean.”

He held out his hand and she took it with a fluttering in her gut she hadn't felt since Max and a shyness she hadn't had since Kyle first asked her out freshman year. When a shiver of delight ran through her as the callouses on his fingers rubbed her softer hand she dropped the offending appendage, “Liz.”

“What's a beautiful woman like you doing sitting all alone?”

She shook her head at him thoroughly amused,“Was this your plan? You come over here spout off some cheesy lines, maybe buy me a couple of drinks, with the end result being that you'd get lucky tonight?”

“Not feelin' it?”

“No,” she leaned forward, biting her lip, knowing that her next remark was probably not the best idea but not really caring, “you're gonna have to work harder than that.”

Seven days, seven days till they found him all.
Wrapped up in a blanket on the boat.

The powerful winds that had been whipping through the city all day had finally settled down to a slight breeze, allowing her and many of the other residents to finally enjoy what was turning out to be a beautiful day.

Liz pulled her jacket closer around her slim figure as she settled onto one of the benches and pulled out a book. It was more of a tome than a run of the mill book which affirmed her belief that all professors were sadistic bastards that wanted to see their students with chronic back problems.

She was getting into the section of the chapter that held the particularly nasty chemical equations when a shadow fell over her book. After it didn't move for a moment she looked up and had to bit back the nasty remark on the tip of her tongue.

“Hey,” her face lit up with a genuine smile. It felt like she'd been faking them for too long, “You came.”

Dean sat next to her on the bench and met her lips for a brief kiss. The butterflies in her abdomen came alive with a vengeance, “I told you I would.”

So we put him in the ground.
Down, Down, Down.

Liz buried her feet under Dean's calves and snuggled closer. Being the summer it wasn't all that cold, her toes though were always frigid. It was one of those quirks that didn't change, no matter how many years passed. Her dad always teased her about it.

Dean rolled in his sleep and pulled her closer. The day old beard, that she found disinteresting in most other men but overwhelmingly sexy on him, rubbed the sensitive skin of her neck. Yet another surprising thing about him. His facial hair wasn't scratchy.

“You need to start wearing socks to bed,” his breath ticked the back of her ear but otherwise he didn't move. Shifting slightly she brought one of her legs up to free it but managed to drag it slowly up his. The resulting groan made laughter bubble up, “Tease.”

Lips lightly and slowly made their way to the hollow of her throat, making her breathing become shallow, “Who says I'm teasing?”

This time her laughter rang through the room.

Your momma said "stay strong, don't cry.”
So that is what you did.

“Oh come on. You can't honestly say that you've never seen Donnie Darko,” her hands flew about emphatically. This was heresy. A grown man having never watching the modern classic. It had everything. Hell even a bunny. The dark bunny was definitely a Deanism waiting to happen.

“No, I've never-”

“That's insane! What about Boondock Saints? Please tell me you've at least watched that before,” her companion seemed more interested in the way her shirt was riding up everytime she gestured than appreciating the severity of the deprivation.

“Can't say I have,” Dean managed to catch her hand before it collided with his chest, “If it isn't on TV than I haven't seen it.”

Shaking her head, Liz leaned down and caught him in a kiss. She hadn't forgotten that he'd grown up in hotel rooms. Running her hands down his chest to where she was still straddling him, a position he'd put her in, she shot him a wicked grin, “There is some serious reeducating to be done.”

Years later, years down later down the road.
On a bus with your FM Radio, half drunk, a cigarette
hangin out.

There was only one thing that Liz was sure of as she gazed under the hood of the sleek black car: it was well taken care of. That knowledge didn't mean that she knew how all the tubes, pumps, and blocks operated. It just showed that she paid attention to its owner.

Dean was, after all, the reason she had dragged herself out of bed earlier than necessary.

Where the impulse to teach her all about the inner workings of the Impala came from, she had no idea but that didn't matter. He wanted to teach her and in her search for knowledge how to fix a car might come in handy.

One never knew.

Her father had only ever shown her how to change the oil in his car and even that was just because he'd needed to do it anyway. Liz had never owned a car. Probably wouldn't, not for a while. It was just an excuse to spend more time with Dean.

He didn't seemed to mind.

What happened to your lonely soul? Crying out.
What happened to your lonely soul? Screamin out.

The leather under her fingers felt better than it had any right feeling.

Everything about him felt better than a person would anticipate. He was an imposing figure for those who didn't know him. Scruffy with an air around him that spelled trouble with a capital T there was a reason that people chose to only go so far as his charm would take them.

One night stand... sure.

Committed relationship, friendship or other... not so much.

Contrary to what a majority of the population would assume his past refusal to create lasting bonds was not formed purely on his own volition. There were plenty of outside forces that had influenced the decision. Many of these were similar to her own.

So how they ended up together was not all that complicated. It was how they stayed together that puzzled her when she started reading to much into it. They worked. That was enough.

Liz nipped Dean's lip as he kissed her again. She loved his kisses. From the way his thumb would always rub the closest exposed skin to the way the intensity she'd see in his eyes carried over. She loved his kisses. Thoughts of them were the only thing that kept her sane when he was off doing what he had to do.

They broke apart and the small smile that didn't ever leave when he was around was still there. If keeping him in place wouldn't change who he was, she'd do it in a heartbeat.

“Go on,” she gave him a quick peck and an affectionate shove towards the Impala, “get going before I drag you back inside.”

You said try and lose.
You said try and lose.

Music, Liz had found, was not an effective way to wake her up. Having become accustomed to using it to get herself to fall asleep its inability to do the opposite wasn't all that surprising.

This is why when her phone went off with the new not really a ringer ringtone she didn't wake up until the third missed call. Bleary eyed she searched out the alarm clock with its angry let numbers proclaiming it much much to soon to be awake.

When it went off again, she was awake enough to recognize the song and who it meant was on the other end, “Dean, I love you and all but must you call at three in the morning?”

“Liz?” that wasn't Dean. She sat up in the bed trying to place the voice.

“Ye-John?”

She'd met the eldest Winchester a couple of times. Never for very long and always aware that while accepting of her role in his sons life he didn't like the distraction from hunting. The man was a machine when it came to the hunt. He never ceased.

It was the promise of clean sheets, a warm shower, and homemade food that had him stopping when father and son passed through together, not the presence of his sons girlfriend.

“I didn't mean to call you this early...”

“What happened? Why'd you... Is everything - Is Dean ok?”

Silence hung in the air pressing down on her, “There's been an accident.”

Everything you've known.
Everything you've seen.

The first thing Liz was aware of as John stepped around the car a small unornate urn in his hand was that she couldn't breathe. The next was that it was getting harder and harder to see him, there was too much encroaching black.

This wasn't suppose to happen. This wasn't happening. It couldn't. They were doing so good. The distance wasn't a problem. They talked frequently. Their relationship was getting stronger. She didn't pressure him instead taking only what he offered. He didn't question her, trusting that she'd tell him when she was ready.

And she had.

Every answer that he wanted, she'd given. Freely. Because that's how relationships worked. A little give. A little take. They were doing so good. He'd even said those three little words that were said too little and not enough.

Liz was barely aware as John guided her inside to sit.

This was all a dream. A very very bad dream.

The cool metal of the urn was pressed into her palm and large hands stopped her from pulling back and letting it drop. If it wasn't there, this wasn't real.

“He was happiest here,” John said softly.

The physical pain of the sob that ripped from her throat should have woken her up.

Everything you've loved.
Everything you've been

The violent raking sobs that were ripping through her had made Maria half carry her into the bathroom and settle her next to the toilet bowl. They had spread the ashes, his ashes, in the park they had always gone to. Usually when Dean was crawling up the walls.

They'd go to the park and eventually he'd try to teach her some new way to defend herself and they'd end up back at the apartment, the reason for leaving forgotten. It really was a vicious circle.

She tried to breathe but it came too quick and she ended up getting sick instead. Throwing up was becoming a regular occurrence. She was starting to get use to it.

Pulling herself to her feet Liz stumbled to her bed and pulled one of Dean's shirts that he kept in his draw to her. The smell was fading and it was all she had of his. All John had given her was the urn, nothing else, not even the ring she'd given him on his birthday.

Cool hands ran across her brow, smoothing her hair back, “You need to calm down honey. Dean wouldn't want you like this.”

He had liked Maria, said she was quirky. It didn't hurt that she had called him gorgeous the first time they'd met.

“He'd want to be here.”

“I know sweetie.”

“No you don't,” Maria had Michael. Maria was happy. Pulling her head from where it was buried she turned to look at her friend. “I'm pregnant Maria.”

And everywhere you walk
Every Song you sing

The little being inside of her loved to kick and shove especially when she was trying to rest. If she had not known who the father was, that alone would have given it away. Add on top of that how much it enjoyed the light pressure of someone touching where it was pressing her uterus hard enough to see the outline of miniature feet and hands, and there was no mistaking it.

This was a Winchester baby.

Even if none of the Winchesters were around to witness it.

John hadn't been around, hadn't even called since giving her his sons ashes, and she didn't know enough about where Sam was to call him. They had never met but she'd like to think he'd want to know if he was going to be an uncle.

Too bad the most recent information she had on him was the nickname 'College Boy'.

Dean had stopped talking about Sam some time ago.

Liz settled onto her favorite bench and looked out over the pond. The park looked empty, she was the only one around. She was alone, “I miss you.”

Everytime you wake
it haunts you once again.

His little mouth opened into a little o and closed to expose little puckered lips. His father use to do that, pucker his lips so that his lower lip would stick out a little farther. When Dean had done it all Liz had wanted to do was nip at it. Thankfully the miniature version didn't bring up the same urges.

Wincing slightly, labor really was the most painful thing she'd ever been through, she shifted on the bed to look at her son closer. Her son, that still seemed surreal.

She took in his little wrinkled face and the light tuff of downy hair. She watched as his little infant blue eyes, that had the potential to change to any color, peaked out and closed again. She counted the ten little toes and ten little fingers.

He was perfect.

He was her little Nathanial. Her little gift from god, if she was remembering the meaning from the baby book correctly. It didn't matter. He was her gift. Liz had never considered herself a religious person but that's what he was to her. He was her gift from some higher power that she didn't want to name: god, fate, destiny. Whatever it was she didn't need to know. Just having him was enough.

Once again shifting in bed, she didn't take her eyes off him and she was sure that if babies could grin so young, he was grinning at her.

“My Daddy ain't comin home (no, no)
Daddy ain't comin home (no, no)
My Daddy ain't comin home (no, no, no)
Daddy ain't comin home (no, no)
My Daddy ain't comin home.”

Lullaby is Duérmete mi niño.

It's hard for me to see when I'm wrong
It's hard for me to weep when I'm strong
But I could never sleep when you're gone
- Shadow on the Wall, Brandi Carlile

She was relaxing with Nathaniel on her chest, both of them swaying with the rocking chair. He'd been colicky since the night before and this was the closest thing to rest either of them had gotten in close to thirty-six hours.

Her mother had warned her about this but she hadn't heeded it, so here she was with her six month old son who'd scream bloody murder if she stopped rocking or tried to put him down.

Liz had just drifted off when the lights flickered. Usually she would have ignored it, there were always problems with the electricity but nights sitting with Dean as he talked about his mom always came back to her in the dark. That was why she hadn't moved Nathaniel into his own room yet. She wasn't ready to let him out of her sight.

Careful not to wake the baby, she stood and slipped out of the nursery. They lived in the old colonial district, there was a church built by Columbus's son down the block it was one of the oldest churches on the island and one of the reasons that she'd bought the aged stone building. If she made it there the nuns would let her stay, they didn't turn anyone away.

The cold dread that she related to bad things happening seeped into her bones and she rushed out of the house. Initially she tried to walk as fast as she could but when the flickering lights started to follow her progress and Nathaniel started whimpering against her neck Liz started to sprint, cursing whatever power that had taken away the person she needed most.

Large oak doors loomed ahead of her. Just a little father. Footsteps joined the failing lights. Her hand collided with the wood at the same time that she started yelling.

“AYUDAME” her fist pounded as hard as it could.

It couldn't have him. That thing couldn't have her son.

“AYUDAME”

A dark silhouette of a man was approaching. Soon she'd be able to make out his face. He opened his mouth to talk as the door started opening under her frantic hand.

“Ayudame!”

Liz woke with a start but managed to land on her feet as she rolled of the couch and ran down the short hallway, her heart pounding. Sliding to a stop at the door she needed, relieved laughter escaped. Living with this particular Winchester she really had to stop anticipating the worst when help was called for.

Last time it had been because he had gotten his shoelace stuck in his draw.

Now instead of the injury that would have justified the reaction she had had she was met by the sight of her son, the one that was suppose to be asleep, tangled in his mosquito netting. Entering the room and removing him from the mess she wasn't really sure how he'd made, she made quick work of setting the netting back up.

The mosquito netting wasn't something she slept with. She preferred a light blanket and a fan up high but she wasn't willing to risk giving Nate a chill and have him get sick. The last thing anyone needed was that little boy sick, he milked it for all its worth.

Kneeling down to his level, Liz took back his sippy cup full of water that had been the reason for the escape attempt, “Aren't you suppose to be a sleep.”

He gave her a sheepish smile and wide green puppy dog eyes. She'd never had it in her to say no to those eyes. Tucking him back in she sang a familiar lullaby to him for the second time that night.

“Duérmete mi niño. Duérmete solito. Qué cuando te despiertes, Te daré atolito. Duérmete mi niño. Duérmete mi sol. Duérmete pedazo, De mi corazón.”

It was the same lullaby that the nun had sang to them that night to calm them and that she'd sang for him every night since. Once in the church they'd been safe. It was paranoia that had her using the song to keep away that danger still.

That and the salt lines around the house and the iron bars on the windows and the blessed medallions that they both wore. They still lived in that old French style building too. Being close to that church was too important to her.

When Nate was asleep Liz back to the living room and started folding the laundry she had been doing when she'd passed out. Some of it was still lightly damp but it was one of those things on a list of many that she had adjusted to: air drying clothes instead of using a dryer.

Just like she'd gotten use to the local dialect with people blurring some of their words together and how driving always seemed to be a competition to see who was crazier and she'd stopped being disgruntled about having to dress nicer than in the U.S. and a thousand and one little things that people didn't think about.

She didn't regret her decision to move to the island though.

Even if no one else got it. She had told them that the job opportunity she had gotten at the University was too good to pass up but really it was because Dean had never left the United States, there were no reminders here except the one she brought with her.

Finishing up with the laundry and doing a once over to make sure everything was locked up, lines were in place, she went to her room. Before snuggling down she turned off the phone. She didn't answer late night calls anymore.

The only time that phone was on while she slept was if Nate was visiting someone. That wasn't often. She might be a little overprotective but he was her little boy. His father had been, his grandfather was a hunter with enemies. He'd had a demon come after him. There was little reason not to be overprotective.

The next morning she rolled out of bed, turned on her phone, and padded into the kitchen to make some coffee along with breakfast. Nate would be up soon, best guesses would be in the next five minutes. In all likelihood he was up already and was waiting till he heard her moving around.

Today was their day. He got to choose what they did. They'd probably end up at the beach, he loved the water. She always had to fight to get him out. Just like she had to fight him to get him away from the TV which she would have to do to get him eat breakfast if the overenthusiastic cartoon voices coming from were anything to go by.

Not paying attention, Liz flipped open the phone at the first ring without looking at the caller ID, “Hola.”

“Liz, when can you get back to Roswell?”

“Christmas, you know we're visiting over Christmas.”

“No today. How soon can you leave today?”

“Maria, what's this about?”

“It's Max... he's back.”

Maybe Tomorrow by the Stereophonics.

I've been down
And I'm wondering why
These little black clouds
Keep walking around

Maria had not appreciated her comment that Max being back in Roswell was not her problem and for that Liz was going to make her pay.

Flying was always a bitch. Getting through customs, checking and claiming baggage, the long flight, layovers – there were several, not to mention the three hour drive – if they were lucky – from Albuquerque to Roswell. All this with a toddler. A toddler barely out of his terrible twos.

Oh yes Maria was going to pay for making them spend a whole day traveling for someone who quite frankly she hadn't thought about in years. Yes, it was all well and good that he decided to finally pay a visit but she wasn't apart of his life anymore. Sure she was eternally grateful that he had healed her and the fact that when she got pissed light bulbs tended pop tied her permanently to the Pod Squad but things weren't the same as they were.

She was a part of the Pod Squad. That didn't include Max anymore. It was Isabel - the woman who was determined to spoil her son rotten, Michael – the one person who got why sometimes she just wanted to sit in silence, Kyle – whose penchant for spewing off Buddhist philosophy was going to get him strangled by a friend, Alex – the man who Nate treated like his personal lifesize teddy bear, and Maria – who was more than her best friend she was her sister.

That was the group that had been with her through high school and college. The people who had stayed for as long as she needed after the wake and during her pregnancy. It was that collection of personalities that had helped her move from her old place a week after when memories became too much and who had understood that for some parts of dealing with losing Dean she had to be alone.

She was getting aggravated and she hoped, as she pulled into a spot in front of the Crashdown, that no one was waiting up for them. In her current mood she'd just snap at them. Her parents didn't deserve to deal with that.

Unbuckling Nate she carried him upstairs and put him on his bed that her parents had bought for him before getting into her own.

So maybe tomorrow
I'll find my way home

Five seconds.

That's how long it took for her to realize that Nate wasn't in the room with her.

Eight seconds.

That's how long it took for her to remember that she was in her parent's restaurant and that her little man was most likely with her parents being waited on like the little prince they felt he was. Let them deal with it when he decided to draw pictures in ketchup all over their floors than they'd know how much of a prince he really was.

Nate the Great Terror.

Alex had christened him that when he was a baby. The terror wasn't a recent add-on. Her wee man was definitely a plethora of personality traits, just like his dad. One minute he was the sweetest little boy the next she'd have to get him down from top of the bookcase. He'd do what was asked of him but most of what he was told not to do also.

Liz spent most of her days when he was being a real pain constantly reminding herself that delinquency had to be at least partially genetic, she'd certainly never taught him half the things he did. But then maybe it was just a male thing.

When she made it downstairs she was met by her son covered in syrup and her parents cooing over him like she'd know they would. She gave him a quick kiss on the top of his head, the only place that wasn't sticky, and sat down.

“You want some coffee sweetheart?” Her mom quickly mirroring her own actions a moment before.

“Yes please,” coffee was god. Without it waking up took longer and that wasn't a good thing with Nate around.

Ten minutes later more awake and having already scrubbed the syrup off his face, Liz just sat back and watched Nate where he was perched on Alex's lap. He was giggling and talking a mile of minute and thoroughly enjoying all the attention. Her son the ham.

When Michael came in he almost lost his balance as the toddler launched himself at his legs. Ol' Stonewall laughed and picked him up. The cap that later found itself on her sons head, that had the logo of some hockey team that she didn't know and was ten sizes too big, originated at that moment.

“Hey, where's my lovin'?” that was Maria and she was met by a very sloppy kiss. Actually it was more a lick than a kiss. Nate had a tendency to stick his tongue out when asked for a kiss.

She had just open her mouth to comment on the gesture when the door to the restaurant opened admitting the source of her trip. Max had been a good looking kid and he made an even better looking adult but she wasn't attracted to him. He wasn't her type anymore.

For the first time since Maria's call, Liz felt herself relax.

“Max,” she said giving him a small smile. Little hands gripped the back of her pants, Nate's little face looked up at her nervously.

“Liz,” the way he exhaled her name was like a caress. Her little boy tightened his grip on her pants. The movement brought Max's attention down.

“This is my son Nathaniel,” the aforementioned boy further buried himself in her legs, hiding himself from Max's scrutiny.

The older man crouched down to get a better look, she could feel little fingers tremble. Nate had never acted like this, not the little man who was turning her prematurely gray because of his need to get into everything. He had never shied away from anyone and he had never hid behind her.

“Hey there buddy,” Liz picked Nate up, he turned his face into her neck.

“He doesn't like being called that,” it was yet another little-boyism that she didn't understand. The last person that had called him that had been kicked in the shin.

Max smiled apologetically and looked around the restaurant awkwardly.

Saving everyone from more unnecessary uncomfortable moments she got her parents to take Nate to the park for her and sat down to listen to Max's tale of woe. Blackmail, federal agents, dead reincarnated kings, clones, and more. It read better than a dime novel from the airport.

She watched her companions, especially Isabel, as their faces went from relieved questioning at having him back to annoyance bordering on rage. These were the people that had to deal with the onslaught of questions that his disappearance had raised. From the local level to the FBI, a missing high school student raised flags.

Posters with Max's face had been plastered around town, alibis were torn apart and disregarded, his parents had been heart broken. The only thing that had kept Mrs Evans from a complete breakdown when nothing was learned day after day was Isabel never leaving. She hadn't even gone away from college, instead drove back and forth from Las Crusas while her friends left.

Even Michael had moved when he had gotten an offer to show his stuff at a gallery in Seattle. They had all moved on but Isabel who had lived a block away from her parents until marrying Alex the year previous. On Christmas... that had been an experience.

Max wouldn't be let off so easily. He'd have to earn his place.

Send Me On My Way by Rusted Root

I would like to reach out my hand
I may see you, I may tell you to run
You know what they say about the young

It was the whimper that woke her up.

The tiny noise that never failed to pull at heartstrings when coming from a puppy but was a thousands times more heartbreaking because it was her son making it. Liz got out of bed and sat on his little mattress. He was rolled in on himself as tight he could, blankets twisted around his form, and his face scrunched.

She brushed his damp hair away from his face trying to calm him. The contact woke him up and tiny arms wrapped themselves around her neck as tight as they could, “Mommy.”

“Hey,” she rubbed his back in slowly, “it's ok. I'm right here.” She felt his heart rate slow to normal under her hand. “Do you want some water? I can get your cup.”

“No,” he shook his head and hugged her tighter. “Don' go.”

“What's wrong little man?” she tried to pull back to look at him but his grip wouldn't loosen.

“Don' go.”

Liz glanced at the clock sitting innocently on her bedside table. It was 2:30, if he didn't go back to sleep soon he'd be cranky all day. A cranky Nate was not what anyone needed. Standing, his form heavy in her arms, she moved them to her bed and laid down. His hands moved, balling the fabric at the front of her shirt in his fists but the tension in his body finally relaxed as she hummed his lullaby.

She wasn't sure what had just happened.

Nate had stopped climbing into her bed sooner than most other children his age. He was too young to watch scary movies and hadn't been afraid of a monster under his bed since she had explained to him that the different symbols around his room were ones his daddy had used to keep them out.

Thunderstorms hadn't even been a problem with him, he liked them. When there was a bad storm he'd be all smiles as they huddled together on the balcony to watch.

The last time he had slept in bed with her was after the kids at daycare had all made a gift for their fathers and Nate hadn't had anyone to give his to. He'd wanted to know why his daddy couldn't come home. Liz had hoped for more time before her explanation that 'daddy's watching over you' wasn't enough. She wasn't sure that he had completely understood what she had told him about why Dean couldn't come back but he had wanted to stay with her that night.

She hadn't minded the company.

His breathing evened out against her neck and the grip on her shirt loosened. She didn't move him. There was nothing that had happened in the past few days that would account for his nightmare, at least she didn't think so. They'd have to talk about it in the morning but until then he could stay where he was.

Well pick me up with golden hands
I may see you, I may tell you to run
You know what they say about the young

Liz caught the quick glance that Nate sent her way as he danced around the livingroom with Maria, the song with the monkeys from The Jungle Book blaring from the television. It was his favorite part of the movie. He looked towards where she was again even with Maria spinning him around.

The action was one that he had been doing all morning. He kept checking to make sure she was still there like he thought she was going to disappear if he didn't. She'd tried to talk to him about the night before but he'd gotten quiet before giving her a big smile and asking if he could watch his movie with Maria who had just entered the apartment.

“He's certainly energetic,” her mother's voice came from her side as she took the seat next to her, “reminds me of you at that age.”

“And here I thought I was a perfect angel growing up.”

Her mom laughed, “We might've exaggerated how angelic you really were.”

Nate once again caught her eye and grinned. It was all innocent enough but she was worried about him, “Nate had a nightmare last night,” her mom raised an eyebrow and waited for her to continue. “He hasn't left me leave the room since.”

“Did he tell you what it was about?”

She shook her head, “He won't talk about it but he slept with me the rest of the night.”

At that her mom looked up startled. Nate loved sleeping in his own big boy bed. He had been very excited when they'd told him he had his own at his grandparents. Whenever they came back to Roswell he'd tell all his friends about how grandma and grandpa got him his very own bed with Batman sheets and everything.

Her mother knew, just like she did, that he had always been independent. Nate liked to do things on his own, a fact that often got him in trouble much to the consternation of the women in his life. Unlike Liz she had an idea about his new found clingyness.

“You've been spending a lot of time over at the Evanses.”

“Diane is having trouble adjusting to Max being back.”

“You've been spending a lot of time around Max,” Liz stared at her mother not really getting what she was saying.

“He lives there, makes him kinda hard to avoid,” her mom rolled her eyes.

“That boy is in love with you,” she continued over Liz's protests. “He has been since you were kids and he doesn't hide it. Max wants a relationship with you.”

“I'm not interested in what Max wants,” she shook her head and smiled as Nate turned in his seat to check on her, “What does this have to do with Nate?”

“You've been alone his whole life. It's always been the two of you and all of a sudden here comes some man he's never met before, who is trying to be a central feature in your life. He's afraid that Max is going to take you away.”

Her mom stood and kissed her on her “That's ridiculous. Nate always comes first.”

“You and I know that but you're all he has. In his mind, who's to say that you won't leave him like his father did.”

Well I would like to hold my little, hand
we will run we will crawl
Well I would like to hold my little, hand
we will run we will crawl

The book of pictures sat on the counter as she slowly flipped through them letting the bittersweet memories of the almost two year span that they covered flow over her. Isabel had put it together for Nate after finding them while she was packing for the move to San Diego for Alex's job. Liz would have to thank her when she came back.

She had been staring at one picture, the one of her and Dean wrapped together by the fire pit in the backyard of their old place, for at least ten minutes when Max came in. He greeted her with a wide warm smile. She had to stop the impulse to jump back when he entered.

“Hey Max. How was the test?” he'd taken the GED exam. Apparently in all his adventures that was one thing he'd never got around to accomplishing.

“It wasn't too bad. I think I did pretty good,” she rolled her eyes at him. She knew how smart they all where, a high school diploma equivalency exam wouldn't ever be a problem. “Where is everyone?”

“Your mom and sister decided that Nate needed a new wardrobe,” from the moment that Diane and Phillip had first met her son, when they had lived in Roswell briefly after his birth, the older couple had treated him like their own grandson. Nate adored them and Liz didn't see the harm in letting the attention continue.

Having two sets of grandparents spoiling him wasn't so bad when it wasn't full time. She could only imagine if they lived closer.

“Poor boy, I remember what it's like going shopping with those two.”

“He likes it,” he gave her a skeptical look. “They buy him ice cream.”

She stopped herself from moving away when she realized how close he was standing. His voice dropped an octave, “So it's bribery then.”

“With toddlers isn't it always.”

Max dipped his head, his breath tickled her cheek. Liz's eyes nervously darted around the room looking at everything but the man in front of her. Panic welled up in her chest as her eye caught on Dean's smiling face. He'd been so happy that day.

It had been the weekend that Alex and Isabel had finally gotten together. The two couples had spent the whole night huddled under blankets, talking, laughing, and watching the fire dance within its iron confine.

Lips lightly touched her and she reacted immediately, pushing him away and letting her voice take a warning tone, “Max.”

“I'm- I'm not sorry,” he brushed her hair away from her face and she felt an irrational thrill of anger. Dean was the only one allowed to do that. “Don't you want this?”

She pushed herself away from the table. Away from him, “Dammit Max.”

“Liz-”

“What the hell gives you the right to just come back and pretend that everything is the way it was?”

“That's not-”

“Things are different,” each word coming out of mouth was making her more upset. “I have a son now Max. A beautiful little boy who is the center of my universe and who thinks that you're trying to steal his mommy and replace his daddy.”

“I don't want to replace his father. I just...”

“Just what?”

“I...” he pointed to the photo album. “Is that him, is that Nathaniel's father?”

“Yes.”

“You loved him?” she didn't know if she should feel insulted that he would insinuate that she would have a child with someone she didn't.

“Very much,” Liz didn't say that she still did but she thought he heard it anyway.

“I just want to know if you think there's a place in your life for me?”

“I'm sorry but no,” not the way he wanted there to be.

Send me on my way, on my way

Portions of Razor by the Foo Fighters

Wake up it's time
We need to find a better place to hide
Make up your mind
I need to know I need to know tonight

“That's where daddy and I used to live,” Liz said pointing to the small house in front of her. It was painted a mossy green now and the hammock that they had spent so much of their time together on was gone, replaced by a white wicker outdoor furniture set, but it was still their place.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The decision to move in together had been spur of the moment. Her roommate had moved back home leaving Liz with a rent she couldn't afford. She had still been trying to figure out what to do while Dean had come to visit. They'd been joking around about finding him a 'home-base' when they'd passed the rental sign on the way to the park.

One bedroom and a former guest house, the rent had still been too much until Dean had used his 'animal magnetism' to get the elderly landlady to lower it. A couple of days later when he'd left she'd started unpacking to find a couple of his shirts in the dresser, newly purchased b-list movies next to the TV, a stack of hair-band cassette tapes next to the stereo, and a closet filled with what looked like a hunter starter kit.

It had been one of the first indications of how seriously he'd felt about their relationship.

“Me too?” Nate looked up at her with an innocence she'd never gotten the chance to see in his father. He always seemed to be looking for ways to be closer to Dean. Anything she told him became gospel.

“For a little bit, when you were in my tummy.”

“Elizabeth? Elizabeth Parker?” she turned toward the voice and was met by an elderly woman exiting the house next to her old one. “I knew that was you. It's so good to see you sweetheart, you've been gone too long. How is an old lady like me suppose to get by when you don't come visit?” she paused and leaned down to get a closer look at Nate who was staring up at the older woman in amazement. “And who is this handsome young man?”

“This is my son Nathaniel. Nate this is Bee, she owns the house we used to live in.”

Bee was one of those women who could speak until going blue in the face. She'd keep an audience captive until they thought of a way to escape. Dean had called the long minutes in her presence getting stung by the Bee.

Nate gave her the widest smile he could and held out his hand, “Hi.”

“Well, isn't he a doll,” Bee straightened up after pinching his cheek. “He looks just like his daddy too. Be careful you're going to end up with another charmer. I'm so happy the two of you got back together. That boy was heartbroken when I told him you'd moved,” Liz felt her heart jump in her chest and tried to bite back the feeling. “I never-”

“Mom!” Bee's daughter, she thought it was Julie but it had been a while, all but ran out of the house to her mother. “Mom, you know you can't come out here on your own. I'm going to kill Peter for leaving you alone,” she paused remembering that Liz was there. “I'm sorry about this. She gets confused sometimes.”

Liz smiled and nodded, keeping the tears back. That was why she didn't subscribe to hope anymore, “It's fine. Alzheimer's?”

“Stage 5,” she started with a nod, guiding her mother back into the house. “It was good to see you Liz.”

“You too,” when they were back in the house. “Come on wee man back in the car.”

“She talks a lot.”

“Yes she does,” Liz started the car and pulled back out onto the street. The house had been a couple of hours out of the way but they still had sometime before they were expected.

Patience my dear
We could spend a lifetime waiting here
Maybe this time
I hope I get the chance to say goodbye

“I still dream about him,” Serena handed her a cup of coffee and took the seat next to her. “It's like he's in my bones. I can't let go. I know he's never coming back but I can't bring myself to believe it.”

“It'll happen eventually.”

“I don't want it too,” despite the emotional value of the statement there was none in her voice. It was a statement of fact not a declaration of feeling.

“I know,” Liz leaned into the support her friend offered.

Serena had known her when she was with Dean and she had known her after Dean. Unlike with the rest of her friends there was no expectation that she would suddenly become the person she had been before. Before Dean had died. Before she'd met Dean. Before high school had ended. Before Max had skipped town. Before she'd gotten shot.

Just before.

None of them seemed to understand that Liz wasn't concerned about finding her way back to the way she had been at any point in her life, she was just trying to make it through one day at a time. She'd stopped making longterm plans about the same time a little blue line had shown up on a peed on stick days after John had given her Dean's ashes.

After that living day-to-day had had much more appeal.

Sweet and divine
Razor of mine
Sweet and divine
Razor of mine

The library wasn't on the top of most toddlers favorite places to be but Nate enjoyed it. At least he liked storytime in the children's section. It was one of the few traits that Liz was sure that he'd gotten from her: an ability to sit still. Dean never could stop fidgeting.

She made her way through the stacks of books, Nate's tiny hand in hers, trying to figure out where Serena had disappeared to. That woman lived her life full throttle which was probably why Nate loved being around her. When visiting they didn't ever stop. The storytime was the least active thing they'd done so far.

Passing through the aisles she stopped as a familiar frame caught her eye. Hunched over a desk and head bent there was little to the man that she could see outside of broad shoulders covered in the type of jacket that Dean use to wear when it was too cool to go without one but too warm for his leather one. It was stupid really that her heart started pounding because of a familiar haircut.

“Newt,” Serena said in a loud whisper giving the boy a wide smile before ducking back around the corner. Liz watched as Nate let go of her hand and ran to followed his aunt.

When she turned back to the table there was no one there.

Sweet and divine
Razorblade shine

Bob Dylan's Knocking on Heaven's Door. Not a Dean part but...

Mama, take this badge off of me
I can't use it anymore.
It's gettin' dark, too dark for me to see
I feel like I'm knockin' on heaven's door.

Sam spread his legs out in front of him reveling in the sunshine and seeming unimportance of what was happening around him. It was all just so normal. People on their lunch breaks, children playing with parents and caretakers, tourists taking pictures, and couples spending quality time together. A large span of human activity with in the confines of the stone floored plaza.

Dean was looking up records but Sam got to watching strangers enjoying all the small things that were taken for granted. Being around so much meaningless safe activity always put him at ease, even as it made his brother uncomfortable.

He watched as a little boy ran after what might've been a squirrel, his little legs ineffective against the fleeing animal. The boy, who looked like he was still a toddler, huffed and buried his hands in his pockets before shrugging off his loss, quickly glancing around him for another source of amusement. A moment later when he had company he guessed that he had been deemed it.

Keeping his face forward Sam peaked out of the corner of his eye to watch his new companion study him closely before sliding closer and copying the way he was seated the best he could. After almost sliding off the boy turned to sit on his knees.

“Hi,” he turned to face the boy full on and was startled by what he saw. It was a miniature copy of Dean complete with a mischievous smirk. Dark - almost black - hair stuck up in every direction like Dean's had when he was younger, a liberal splattering of freckles on his nose and cheeks, and green eyes that stared at him inquisitively. “I'm Nate.”

“Sam,” his voice broke forcing him to clear it as his eyes darted around looking for someone to claim the kid. “Where you're parents buddy?”

“Mommy's talkin' to Rena,” Nate responded his head cocked, “and daddy's in heaven. I don' know where dat is.”

“Oh, sorry.”

A tiny hand patted his arm, “Dat's okey.”

“You're a little Dean,” he said under his breath.

“Huh?”

“Nothing, you remind me of my brother.”

“Really?” Sam nodded and got a tiny laugh in return. “Cool.”

“You're like a smaller copy of him.”

“Nuh uh, I'm a original.”

The boy sounded like him too, “That's scary.”

He hadn't meant to say that outloud but the fleeting thought of Dean with a kid was. Sure his brother was good with kids but he'd always just assumed that it was because he still acted like one, Sam couldn't picture Dean with a kid of his own. He didn't think that Dean could picture Dean with a kid for more than a minute.

“No worry. I help you.”

Sam blinked at Nate before laughing. Little eyes stared at him like he was crazy for not taking the offer seriously, “Yeah, how're you going to do that?”

“Daddy made the scary go away. I can too.”

“I'm sure you could,” Nate nodded in satisfaction but before he could respond a woman's voice could be heard calling his name, a moment later Sam could see her.

She was slight, her hair darker than her sons', and on the shorter side. Obviously any height that that boy had came from his father. For what he could see she was attractive enough to be Dean's type but contrary to popular belief his brother hadn't slept with every beautiful woman in the continental United States.

“Dat's mommy,” Nate slid off the bench and gave Sam a wide smile. Slim arms hugged the boy, rapid Spanish spilling from her lips.

It had been years since Sam had taken the language but he did have a firm grasp of Latin so for the most part he understood the gist of what she was saying. Every word was what a mother would say if her kid had walked off with out her noticing. Censorship and frantic self assurances that he was all in one piece. She stood and gave him a half relieved half exasperated smile.

“Thank you so much. I turned around for a minute and he was gone. Slippery little bugger,” she rubbed his head affectionately, a maternal smile gracing her features.

“It's fine, he's a good kid.”

“Most of the time,” she laughed and took Nate's hand, staring at Sam hard. They stood like that for a minute before she shook her head as if to clear it. “Thank you again.”

She turned away and took a step before her son turned around to wave, “Bye buddy.”

“Bye Nate.”

He stretched out on the bench again, letting his mind drift off into what could have been. If he'd gone to law school like he'd planned he might have been one of the overstressed suits running to their next meeting. Sam didn't think it'd be all that bad, even if it was only temporary. Growing up on a near permanent adrenaline high, he'd come to appreciate that maybe for them normal was just too... boring.

His brother plopped down heavily next to him, “You will not believe where this sucker is buried.”

“Dean do you have a kid out there that I don't know about?”

A quizzical expression laced with amusement crossed his features, “I don't think so. Why?”

“There was this little boy, I swear he was a mini-you.”

“My own mini-me? Cool.”

Mama, put my guns in the ground
I can't shoot them anymore.
That long black cloud is comin' down
I feel like I'm knockin' on heaven's door.

Liz made her way out of the plaza, Nate's hand still in her own. He'd slipped out of it earlier impatient with the adults in his life standing and talking instead of playing. Again like his father he needed to be continuously occupied.

She hadn't needed her son to vanish on her.

Not when she was seeing things that couldn't possibly be there.

Luckily despite what her mind had conjured as soon as she had turned to find him gone he'd come across a man that was neither sleazy nor a pedophile. The guy seemed pretty nice, Nate had even called him Buddy which she wasn't totally sure wasn't his three year old version of being condescending.

Despite how amiable he had been there was something about him that had made her uneasy, gave her the feeling that she was missing something, like the information was at the back of her mind just beyond reach. It was his eyes. The shape, color, expressions of them were itching for a connection to someone else.

Serena's relieved smile had met her own when it clicked. John. They were John's eyes. Other tiny physical details that the man had shared with him and Dean fell together. Familiar traits matching those of her own son became glaringly obvious.

It was Sam. Liz had found Sam.

“Nathaniel Gerard you are going to stay with Serena, ok?” he nodded knowing better than to go against that particular tone. She glanced up at her friend, “I'll be right back.”

Her sneakers pounded the stones as she ran back to the bench dodging people along the way. She couldn't lose him not so quickly. Nate needed a Winchester in his life. Sam would be it. He'd be there for his brothers son, she knew he would. The way Dean had talked about him she knew he'd be there.

“Sam!”

The world blurred around the edges as she spun around hoping to catch sight of him in the crowd. He had to be around somewhere, the plaza wasn't that big. She'd only walked away a couple of minutes before, the bench was empty but he had to be near.

“Sam!”

She picked a direction and ran again. Her eyes jumped from person to person panic welling up in her chest. Yet another part of a long held desperate dream chipped away. This wasn't the way it was suppose to be.

“Sam!”

Stopping, her breath coming in gasps, the road spread out in front of her traffic moving steadily. There was no sight of Sam. Nothing. He was gone. She had lost him. All because she hadn't payed attention to who she was speaking to. She'd lost him.

Liz turned away from the street, her eyes burning with unshed tears. How was she suppose to explain to Nate when he asked that she had lost his only chance at meeting his fathers family? She started walking back to Nate without seeing the black Impala pull into traffic behind her.

Knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door

Next week I'm going to do a double post (Tuesday and Friday) because it's the last two parts and you guys have been great.

3 Libras by A Perfect Circle. The proverb isn't an exact translation.

Difficult not to feel a little bit
Disappointed and passed over
When I look right through,
See you naked but oblivious

Nate's bag landed with a thump in the back of some nondescript Ford rental she'd picked up in Albuquerque and would return in Miami. It was larger than the one she'd brought for him, Isabel and Diane really had gotten carried away. Liz only hoped that Alex would knock up his wife so that the pair had another outlet for their child-happy glee.

It was a relief that they were taking a more direct flight home, she didn't even want to contemplate what it would be like to struggle with their baggage between connections.

“So what's the plan?” Serena handed her the cooler of snacks that they'd put aside for the drive. She put it in the front seat, if she put it in the back Nate would get into it.

“See some sights, visit my aunt in Florida,” drive through the city a couple of times before leaving in the hope of somehow passing Sam.

“You're going back?”

Nate ran past them, Serena's puppy chasing them. Liz would be lucky if she only have to say no to him getting his own once. Raising her son was enough of a challenge, she didn't have to add training a dog on top of that. It was bad enough that he'd convinced her to feed the strays that were making their way to their house in larger numbers.

She really was a softy where he was concerned.

“There's nothing...” there was nothing keeping her in the States. “They were nice enough to let me take a sabbatical. I can't leave them hanging forever.”

“But you could move back.”

Sheppard – the Anatolian Shepherd named by Serena's obnoxious cousin – knocked Nate back right into a nice puddle of mud. She'd have to change him before they got in the car, “Serena.”

“Ok. Ok,” Her friend held up her hands in mock surrender, “but know you're missed and will be welcome whenever you want to come home.”

There it was: when. When she wanted to come back.

Liz knew that she'd return eventually but always in her mind that was a long off undefined date to be determined so far in the future that it wasn't worth thinking on just yet. Coming back would be admitting that she was willing to say goodbye to Dean and she wasn't ready yet. As long as she kept seeing him from the corner of her eye to have him disappear on closer examination, a part of her would hold on to the hope that him dying was a really bad dream.

She loved her son but sometimes she wondered if it had been right to bring him into a world filled with so much hate and only one wounded parent to guide him. Nate was already so defensive about his parents. He needed more than a mother hung up on his dead father. Liz lived for her son, she needed to learn to move on for him.

“Al vivo la hogaza y al muerto, la mortaja,” the words slipped past her lips barely audible.

“Huh?”

“Nothing,” we must live by the living, not by the dead. “Lets go separate those two before Nate decides your dog needs to be vanquished.”

“That's probably a good idea,” they headed to Nate who was brandishing a stick at Sheppard like it was a wand.

But I threw you the obvious
Just to see if there's more behind the
Eyes of a fallen angel,
Eyes of a tragedy

Nate was kicking his feet in time with the music, his head bobbing. He was always more well behaved in a car than on a plane. Another thing he had in common with his father. She saw so much of Dean in their son, it was unnerving how alike they were. Liz always found it hard to accept.

Dean wasn't alive, how could Nate be so much like him?

Yet another thing on the long list of things she couldn't wrap her mind around. Parents always knew their children. Children always knew their parents. Only the imagination could possibly fathom what Nate would've been like with his father around. She thought about it a lot especially when she was in the States.

Would he have been even more of a hell raiser or would he have kept the excitement for daddy time and been more mellow elsewhere?

Liz laughed as Nate started singing along with the Allman Brothers song. She'd copied the CD from her fathers collection despite that she had the same one at home. It was good music that her little man could sleep to if he decided to nap. The slim likelihood that there would be consistently good radio stations during the drive had made bringing it with her that more attractive.

“Te gusta la música?” she needed him to get use to speaking Spanish again.

“Si mamá.”

He always had very little trouble switching back and forth, only losing some words when he spent a prolonged period of time without using one. He got his intelligence from both of his parents. She wasn't being arrogant but Liz knew she was smarter than average. Dean had been as well, though more often than not he played dumb to avoid having to put in effort.

Her Dean, the underachiever.

Checking the gas meter she sighed. She'd been driving for just over an hour. Despite that, they'd only gotten a couple of miles out of the city but she hadn't filled up in over a week so they'd have to stop for gas. She'd hoped to have more time. Nate always wanted to stretch his legs when they stopped.

Another ten minutes later she pulled into the first rest stop that had come up. It looked identical to every other Mobil station in the continental United States. Corporate America's attempt to make people feel at 'home' wherever they went. She didn't think that a gas station could ever feel homey.

The weather man had predicted sunny skies all day. It was raining. Without exception weathermen were always wrong when she hoped for them to be right. It was her universal constant.

Her hands turned red under the harsh climate reminding her of yet another reason why she'd be better off back on the island. Liz was a warm weather kind of girl. Shoving her hands in the pockets of her sweatshirt, she continued to watch the numbers spin away on the pump.

Prices were getting ridiculous.

“Parker?” she felt her heart stop but didn't turn. It was a dream, she wasn't really hearing that voice. “Liz?”

Shaking none too subtly, she turned and was met by a painfully familiar face. It wasn't exactly like the one she saw in her dreams every night, there were more lines of worry and it was more closed off than it ever had been, but it was still the same. Green shadowed eyes, the day old growth he'd shave in the morning, the confused/cautious half smirk that he always wore when he was taken off guard.

“Dean?” it had to be a dream.

A large droplet of water splashed across her cheek mixing with tears she hadn't even known she'd been shedding. She hadn't cried since his wake. Sam got out of the Impala, calling out for his brother unsure of who she was. He recognized her from the park, she could see it in the way his eyes widened.

It was a Winchester thing.

The pump beeped to tell her it had printed her receipt. Her receipt. For the gas. From the gas station. So she could drive to her aunt. She wouldn't be driving to her aunts.

Before Dean could react Liz crushed him to her, head buried in the crook of his neck. He still smelt the same. Indefinably perfect. After a moment hesitation the embrace was returned. Through the layers of fabric she could feel his heart beating. Beating. He was alive. He was really alive.

“Mommy?” she looked over to her car but didn't release Dean. Nate had his head out the window, he'd managed to figure out how to get himself out of a children's safety seat a long time ago. His eyes widened comically when he looked to the man she was still wrapped in. “Daddy?”

The small circles that his thumb had been rubbing on her back stopped, “Liz?”

You don't, you don't
You don't see me at all

Colorblind by Say Anything

Here comes the sadness that I miss so much
That lonely aching comes from every touch
I’ve grown accustomed to the grays and blacks
Because they’re always coming back (coming back)
Sit down for supper, won’t you dine with me
Or can’t you handle seeing all I see
I’ve grown to colorblind to cease my bitching
And I’ve grown to love the pain

She was staring at him like she couldn't understand why he was angry.

Seated at the end of the bed, tears streaming down her cheeks, and hands between her thighs Liz had only looked away from Dean when Sam had taken Nathaniel out of the room. He'd looked away then too. He had a son. An 'I made that' little boy who had the same unassuming gaze as his mother. It was surprisingly easy to accept that.

There was no question that Nate was his. The timing fit and he knew Liz. She wasn't the type to cheat but she was the type to run and it hurt that she had run from him. That wasn't something that he ever thought she would do with him.

When they'd been together that had been it for him. No other women, less alcohol, shorter hunts. He'd thought of settling down, not to give up the job but to be more like Bobby. A home base from which he could pick and choose his hunts rather than the nomadic life he'd had since his mother was murdered. Maybe even open up a garage to bring in some legit income.

Dean was good with cars.

In all honesty, it had scared the crap out of him but Liz had managed to calm him with some inane remark that he couldn't remember anymore. She had the ability to put things into perspective for him using the stupidest things. When he'd stepped out of Bee's house with the news that the rent had been lowered and the knowledge that he was moving in with her, he had only faltered once.

She'd placated him when he'd needed it but she hadn't let him do the same. One day she was making hushed innuendos over the phone and laughing (despite that he'd put money on her having turned bright red) at the looks she'd received when she was overheard. Then nothing. She didn't call him and when he called her, her phone would just ring and ring.

That didn't touch what it had been like to find out that she had cleaned out their place without leaving behind a forwarding address.

“How could you keep this from me? You?” she just sat there quietly crying. He needed a reaction, a reason but she just sat there. “Dammit Liz after everything we've been through you turn out to be the person I can rely on the least.”

“I...”

“What?”

“I... you... you're here,” the disbelief was enough to give him pause.

He had a son and she had kept the boy from him, “Why Liz? Why didn't you want me around MY SON?”

“That's not-”

“Than what?!”

“Stop yelling at me!” she finally pushed herself off the bed and yelled. This was the woman he knew. The one who would only take so much before pushing back. “You were dead Dean! I spread your ashes!”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Your dad Dean. He called, he came to our house. You were dead,” Liz grabbed the collar of his shirt. Her hands were shaking. “Do you know what it's like to be told that the only person who makes your life worth it is never coming back?”

Here comes a view I’ve seen a million times
Here comes a boring song with thoughtless rhymes
I know you’re sick of me so tell me here
Because you could have been the one
To make it all disappear

Dean missed the end of the bed and ended up sliding to the floor instead, taking her with him. He'd always been good about listening to her. At least when he wasn't being an obstinate ass.

Kneeling in front of him and running her fingers through his hair like she did with Nate when they had movie nights, Liz only half believed that he was really there. If she believed and it turned out to be a trick or a dream she didn't think she could recover. If she believed and it was true that meant that John had purposefully kept them apart.

She knew John. He was single minded but he loved his sons, would do anything to protect his family. All a parent ever wanted was for their children, above all else, to be safe and happy. Why would he have ruined that for them?

“I called when I didn't hear from you. Everyday for the two weeks it took to drive home.”

“The only way I wouldn't have received a call,” her phone hadn't left her side for the small chance that it had been a mistake but she'd been out of it when his father had arrived. He would've had the chance to get to it, “was if I had blocked your number but I didn't. I wanted you to call. I would have given anything to hear your voice after John told me that there had been an accident. When he came to the house and gave me your ashes... Why would he do that?”

“I blew off a couple of hunts that he could do alone,” she'd yelled him about that. Liz hadn't wanted to be the reason why father and son stopped getting along. He shook his head. John wasn't that anal. “He was getting closer to the demon that killed mom. Dad went after it by himself right before it killed Sam's girlfriend.”

Fear coursed through her, “Is it?”

“I killed it,” his hand slipped under her shirt and settled on her stomach. It wasn't as flat as it had been but it was one of the few signs that she had carried a life in her. “When did you?”

“Not till after... My jeans stopped fitting but I said hey that dryer is always shrinking things,” he chuckled at that. After his first teeshirt had been shrunk to Liz size he'd stopped using it. “I wasn't sick at first – which by the way morning sickness isn't just a morning thing – not until you... We were careful and everything was normal. That test turning positive scared the crap out of me.”

She'd spotted, a normal occurrence for some women but she'd had light periods since she'd started birth control so she hadn't questioned it until it'd stopped completely. It'd actually been prompting by Serena that had gotten her to take the test.

“I wish I'd been there.”

“So do I,” maybe things would be ok. “I don't know if I can forgive him but I need him to tell me why he did this.”

“Dad's dead.”

But I move too slow and I think too fast and the first rainbow I see will be the last.

Hello Dearest Love by Appleseed Cast

Thank you so much for reading, you've all been great. I hope you enjoyed this story. I'll start working on the equally brief parallel/sequel that is Dean's side soon. There is more Supernatural canon in that one so it's gonna take me a bit to fit/fix the current situation.


welcome home
her eyes know
mistakes you've made
the plans you laid

Losing Mary had killed John and he had spent the rest of his life with those scars.

He'd even warned Dean once over getting too attached to Liz with 'that thing still out there'. The concern had been brushed off at the time but with everything that had happened it seemed like he had taken matters into his own hands to ensure that his son wouldn't have to go through that kind of soul shattering pain.

It was all bullshit considering that in the end it had fucked with two people that had already been emotionally constipated and had left Nate without a father but it was the best that Dean could come up with.

All his life he had respected his father, listened to his judgment, and hadn't questioned – at least verbally – his decisions. Right now, Dean would like nothing better than to have it out with John. Liz had been his Mary but instead of the relationship they should've had, they barely knew each other anymore and had a son who, since returning from getting ice cream with his uncle, hadn't left his fathers' side.

That kid could talk. Much of it was hard to understand being mixed with Spanish words and said fast enough to blur but Dean was happy to have his ear talked off. That meant that Nate wanted to get to know him. The kid was smart too. Like his mother, like Sam.

He was going to be surrounded by brainiacs. The only saving grace was that Nate was messy and caused more trouble than he did. Within an hour he'd managed to lock himself in the bathroom and gotten his sticky hands stuck in Sam's hair.

Tiny fingers pulled at his ear and drool trickled down his arm.

For one of the few times in their lives, Dean had taken the bed farthest from the door. Nate was laying between his parents, his head resting on his fathers' arm. Both Liz and Sam had said that Nate looked just like him. From the smattering of freckles across his nose to the familiar smile.

He thought his son looked more like his mother.

The other side of the mattress shifted slightly, brown eyes blinking at him. He'd stayed up most of the night to watch over his family. It was a vigil that he wanted to keep. Liz yawned and smiled at him. She was still that woman.

Unconsciously sexy, optimistic in her cynicism, and willing to give him all the chances he needed.

“Tell me about him.”

your love, it means so much
a simple ring, your fingers touch
break away, break away
your smile faints, and light shines through
plan it truth, it is too soon to ignore

There was a constant in her life: she would do anything for the ones she loved.

“He's turning me gray years too early,” there was too much for her to know where to start. Dean looked at her seriously and she sighed. She couldn't deny him this. “He loves the rain and gets excited when there's a thunderstorm. I think it's because it was raining the day he was born. He wants a dog which I won't get for him because his last pet ended up stuck in the walls.

“He thinks it's hysterical when people fall down, once finger painted the hall way blue because it looked better that way, and has managed to force retirement on two babysitters,” she laced her fingers with Dean's wishing that she had the pictures of Nate growing up. “He once made a kid in his class cry for not believing that you saved the world.”

He laughed, “Yeah?”

“Don't be too proud it was a girl,” she could feel the vibrations as he laughed more but was careful not to wake the others. “He loves plantains but hates bananas and his favorite superhero is his dad.”

Dean sobered.

There was so much he had missed that he'd never get back. First steps, smiles, stitches. Learning how to undo the safety gates and being potty trained. Nate was still little and there were innumerable things that he'd go through from reading to getting his first girlfriend, his dad would be there. He'd be the one to give 'the talk' and to teach how to shoot.

But they'd never get back what had been lost.

Then there was the things that had to be done. Liz and Dean had to talk about what had happened in their lives since the last time they'd seen each other. She had to sell her house, try and find a new place to call home. A new job would have to be found.

It was all a mess. John had made a mess of everything. How where they suppose to fix it?

She took a deep breath to calm down, “What happens now?”

“I don't know but we'll work it out.”

Whatever was coming they would deal with it because she was Liz and he was Dean and Nate was worth it.

but she's the one
bright as the sun
stops you there
right on the stairs
and falling back
when stars are black
stripes on fire, stripes on fire


THE END