Author: Restive Nature
Genre: Crossover
Type: WiP
Shows: Dark Angel and Supernatural
Disclaimer: Neither show represented in this fiction belongs to me. Dark Angel is the product of Cameron/Eglee and Fox, whereas Supernatural is the product of Kripke and The CW. No profits are made from this fiction and it is intended for private enjoyment only.
Story Rating: PG-13 up to NC-17 for language, violence and sexual situations. (All higher rated material will be contained in its own chapter and clearly marked at the beginning of the chapter. PG versions of these chapters will also be available.)
Chapter Rating: PG-13 for language.
Timeline/ Spoilers: This story takes place predominantly in the Supernatural timeline. This means that the Dark Angel structure of post-pulse America does not fit in. The massive changes will be that Manticore is decades ahead of itself and the characters from DA are born much earlier than portrayed on the show. There is no Pulse occurring. Any other changes to the structures or episodes of the shows will be (hopefully) explained within the story itself.
Pairing: Dean/ Max, Sam/ Jess
Summary: Change can be a choice and you never know where the road you choose to take will lead you.
A/N: Please see note at the end of the chapter.
When It Changes
Chapter Twenty-five
A Matter Of Time
“Go to sleep, we’ll work it out in the morning.”
The words still echoed inside Max’s head. Go to sleep. It was a simple enough directive, for most people. But unlike most people, she seemed to be cursed with shark DNA, making sleep, especially with so much running through her mind, a virtual impossibility. Working it out in the morning? That wasn’t so easy to decipher.
On the one hand, this very night, she’d gotten one of her deepest most secret desires granted. Something so primally fueled that she’d never believed it would come to fruition. She should have been ecstatic, but at the same time, she could not forget the events that had led up to the final act.
It had taken Max a little while to calm down after the euphoric rush of emotion and physicality. Time to focus her thoughts past the point of Dean having sex with her. Eventually, as he slumbered beside her, his arm looped across her hip, her thoughts, like her breathing calmed.
And it all came down to one thing. Her heat.
She’d seen this before, had it happen before. The hormone surges that rampaged through her body two to three times a year, courtesy of Manticore, caused a feedback loop if she wasn’t careful. Stay too long in one place and eventually the not so instinct driven males that inhabited this world were bound to notice. It wasn’t nearly so bad for them, not having the correct genetic markers to cause a full blown response. But a response it was. Add to that fact was her lack of inhibition if the heat went on too long and combustion was inevitable.
That must have been what had happened to Dean. It was the only plausible explanation. All the years he’d spent around her when she was in heat were bound to affect him in some way, weren’t they? How could he go from seeing his little sister in one moment, to realizing just what she was? A revved up whore. Even as the words crossed her mind, she could feel the tears that she’d been too shocked for earlier, start up. Dean had even said so earlier tonight. Oh Max was sure that he hadn’t really meant them. But from his point of view, that was how Max was acting. And in Dean’s eyes, there was only one thing you did with a whore.
Already sliding from his arms, gently, carefully, trying desperately not to wake him, Max slid from the bed. She ran the tips of her fingers over her eyes and when that didn’t stem the flow, she rubbed at them with her fists, like a cranky five year old. When that didn’t help, Max pressed one fist against her lips, biting back the sobs that were crawling up her throat.
If it had just been finding her clothes in the dark, it would have been no trouble. But trying to find them through the haze of her tears was so much worse. Her jeans made the strangest noise, one she’d never really noticed before, as she tried to pull them on slowly and quietly. Dean murmured in his sleep and Max froze, one leg still unclothed, until he rolled over and settled himself back down. Hurrying, before he could wake up, Max found and donned the rest of her clothes.
It wasn’t until she was outside of the motel room, that she realized that John hadn’t been there. She checked her watch. It was just after four in the morning. Slightly worried and admittedly, just a little glad for the distraction, she scanned the parking lot, but his truck was nowhere…
Just then she heard the familiar rumble of his black truck. She watched as he turned into the parking lot and pulled into the empty slot next to the Impala.
Slightly breathless, she stood like the proverbial deer in the headlights until John cut the power and slid hurriedly out of the truck. Scared that he’d know immediately, just by looking at her, she ducked her chin, allowing her hair to tumble about her face.
“Max?” his voice was full of concern, gravelly and tired. He reached her in a few short steps, his hands reaching for her face. Sliding along the cheeks, the pressure of those hands forced her to meet him in the eye. But even though she hadn’t said anything, the misery in her eyes must have told him what he needed to know because he sighed dejectedly. “It happened, didn’t it? I was hoping…” Letting loose her face to wrap his arms around her shoulders; he drew her closer, resting his cheek on the top of her head. He gave a low dry chuckle. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. The signs have been there for a while. Are you okay?”
The surprising show of tenderness and understanding from the gruff father figure brought back the tears unexpectedly. John pulled back to look at her again and Max honestly tried to shake her head yes, that whatever he thought, she was okay. But one hint of the sadness in his eyes, the disappointment, sent her head in the opposite manner. How could she be okay when she had let her guard down and let everyone down? John sighed again and held her closely.
“Its okay baby,” he murmured into her hair. “Nobody blames you.” That uttered sentiment just reinforced the fear that it was completely her fault. John and Dean obviously, didn’t know the whole story. They weren’t running on the facts that Max had garnered about her freaky biology. Max swallowed the lump in her throat and pulled back from her father. Granted, it was more Manticore’s fault than anyone’s, but Max had played her part in the whole fiasco, by not coming up with some plausible escape plan.
“I have to go,” she rushed to say. She saw the sudden fear and panic in his eyes. “Just for a few days,” she reassured him, not quite sure what her idea was. She just knew that she couldn’t deal with this confusion. Not right now. Not when her hormones were still trying to sort themselves out after that extremely emotional connection that she had forged with Dean. One she wasn’t so sure he’d share, given the fact that he never had before.
John let out his breath shakily. He nodded slowly. Given the roller coaster ride the evening had turned into, he could see the pressing need for her to disappear for a while. But he certainly didn’t want her running off to God knew where. A plan quickly formed in his mind. The safest place for Max to be was with them. But safe wasn’t so safe for her anymore, on a different level. That meant that the next best thing…
“You should go to Sam,” he announced softly. He could tell by the way her eyes widened that she hadn’t been expecting him to endorse that idea. But John knew that despite the falling out between him and his son, Sam would move heaven and earth to protect his little sister.
“Y-yeah,” Max agreed, “I could do that.” Biting her lower lip, she glanced down at her watch. “If I leave now…”
“You’ll be just in time for breakfast,” John smiled softly. He ran one hand over her slightly tangled tresses once more, as if to reassure himself that she was still there and would come back to them as soon as she could. Tugging gently at the end of one lock he nodded towards the back of the truck. “Let’s get your bike down then.”
Together they worked her bike free. John, not normally one for chatter, uncharacteristically filled her in on what he’d done since Dean had dragged her from the bar. He’d proceeded with the case and had torched the body. He could have waited he supposed but night time was just so much better for digging up graves. Once her bike was down, John opened the door and hauled her duffel bag to the fore. He brought it over to the bike, helping her evenly distribute the weight across the back of her bike.
“Now, you’ve got all your supplies, cell phone, and money?” John demanded, letting his tone become slightly stricter, even as Max was handing over the room key she’d miraculously remembered to grab. Max was used to hearing the list he reeled off and he thought he had seen the glimmer of a faint smile as she nodded at each query. “Tryptophan?”
Max kept herself from rolling her eyes and pulled back the zipper to reveal the bottle that sat at the top of her pile of necessities. But as she glanced down, she noticed something that didn’t belong there. Dean’s birthday present. Quite small and unassuming, she’d spent a great deal of time, effort and money on procuring it for him. With a slightly trembling hand, she drew it forth, staring at it for a moment, until she turned to John.
“Could you…?”
John held out his hand and took the package from her. He glanced once at it, and then slipped it into his pocket. “I can do that.”
“And tell him…”Max trailed off. There were no words she could offer that would suffice. She glanced up quickly at her father, and then shook her head. “Never mind.” She turned and threw her leg over the bike, preparing to leave.
“Oh wait,” John seeing her prepared to leave had the sudden sensation that something was missing and until he felt a slight breeze, wasn’t sure what it was. But then he turned back to the open truck door and withdrew the jacket that she’d forgotten at the bar. “Don’t want you catching a cold.” Max smiled gratefully as she hurriedly shoved her arms inside. Now that she had something of a plan in place, she wanted to get started. The sooner she left, the sooner she’d have some time to figure this bitch out. And the sooner she left, the sooner Dean could get over the momentary madness that her hormones had provoked in him.
With one last smile thrown over her shoulder at the man who’d taken care of her for almost a decade, Max pushed her motorcycle away from the curb. Out of deference to the still slumbering motel guests, she decided that she’d start up the bike once she got to the street. Just as she was turning the corner, she heard John’s final admonition to call him when she got there. She swallowed again, a different type of lump lodged in her throat this time. It didn’t matter if he showed it with action or words, at heart, John Winchester was a damn fine daddy.
*****
Sam yawned as he struggled with a box full of books. He grunted once as he finished maneuvering it next to the bookcase. Next time, he decided, he’d take the advice offered instead of stubbornly insisting he knew what he was doing.
“Hey,” the soft voice of his girlfriend, Jessica Moore caught his attention as she came out of the kitchen. The smile was spread across his face before he even had fully turned to her. “I’m all done in there,” she informed him, waving a hand back towards the kitchen.
Sam sprang to his feet and met her with one long stride, to plant a kiss on her upturned face. “Thanks. You’re an angel.”
“Of course I am,” she agreed impishly. “Why else would I get up at six in the morning to come over here and help?” They both laughed and Sam pulled her close once more. Feeling decidedly good, even at the early hour, he dropped another light kiss on her lips, then groaned when he heard the buzzer, indicating that either someone had come to visit, or had pressed the wrong button. It had been known to happen a few times.
“Hold that thought,” he smirked, before turning to answer the impatient noise. “Yeah?”
“Sam?” Sam’s eyes widened in shock as he immediately recognized the voice of his little sister. Although they’d talked many times over the past few years, he hadn’t seen her since that hunting job had brought them to the area.
“Max!” he exclaimed in surprise.
“Can I come up?” The words were plaintive, but Sam thought he could sense the underlying tension and it panicked him slightly.
“Of course,” he replied automatically. He pressed the proper button, holding it until he was sure she’d be in. Exchanging a glance with his girlfriend, both filled with puzzlement, for different reasons, Sam unlocked the door to the apartment and waited in the doorframe for his sister to appear. It crossed his mind briefly to wonder if his Dad and Dean were with her, or if they were once more waiting outside. Quickly, her dark head came into view and she was of all things, carrying her duffel bag with her. Sam took several deep breaths as several terrifying thoughts crossed his mind. He was heading towards her before he even knew what he was doing.
He met her at the top of the stairs. Max, who had been watching the steps as she climbed them, stopped short when she saw her brother’s feet. She looked up, her face falling when she saw the fear on his face. “What happened?” he demanded softly but hurriedly. He’d never told Jessica the truth about his former life and wasn’t about to start. But neither could he ignore if something had happened to his family.
“Oh, nothing,” Max reassured him quickly, realizing where her brother’s fear was stemming from. “Everyone’s fine. It’s just…”
“Just what?”
Max sighed heavily. She hadn’t really thought about this part. Sam could be relentless when he wanted to discover something. It was what made him so good at the research part of their job. “Dean and I had a fight,” she finally settled on. “A huge one.”
“Ah,” Sam grinned then, finally able to relax. “Yeah, he can be just a little bit of a jerk, hmm?” Normally, Max would have made some sort of smart remark, but she just fiddled with the strap of her duffel bag. Again Sam wondered what had happened. But he knew better than to ask. As relentless as he could be in questioning, Max could be likewise in the not answering category. “Well come on in. Does Dad know you’re here?”
“Yeah,” Max mumbled. “He’s the one who suggested it.”
That surprised Sam. He waited until his sister was through the door before he shut it again, still listening to her explain that she’d driven down from L.A. on her bike.
“…and I thought I could crash with you except I feel really stupid just now noticing all these boxes you’ve got packed and that moving van outside must be yours,” she finished lamely, glancing around the room. There was a blonde woman, kind of hanging back and Max quieted, waiting for Sam to explain.
Sam chuckled sheepishly, scratching at the back of his head while he glanced between the two women. “Uh yeah. I’m kind of moving in with Jess.” He gestured at his girlfriend. Max threw him an amused glance, before moving forward to greet the woman whom her brother had mentioned before. She held out her hand.
“So you’re Jessica Moore of the ‘we’re not even like that’ fame?”
Jess automatically took the girls hand that was offered. She quirked one eyebrow up, seeing the glint of humor in the girl’s eye. She didn’t always run on first impressions, but she knew right away that she’d like this person. “And you must be Max of the ‘bratty little sister’ fame.”
As one, both women turned to look at the rapidly becoming uncomfortable Sam. His mouth gaped open for a moment and then he gestured towards the kitchen. “I’m just going to go get coffee. Okay?” And before the words had finished tumbling out of his mouth, he’d shot off to the other room.
Jess let out a soft giggle. “Did he really say that?” she asked of her boyfriend’s sister.
Max fought her own smile. “Well, he was drunk, it was late and he knew he was in for some teasing.” Jess nodded.
“New Year’s,” she confirmed. “Yeah, we’ve kind of been keeping this quiet. Don’t want to upset the balance of our friends.”
“Oh? How so?” Max questioned. Jess gave a half shrug.
“Well, it just seems like when somebody in our circle of friends starts dating, everybody tries not to pick sides, but they usually do and then if it turns sour, you end up with a lot of bad feelings.”
“I can see that,” Max nodded. “So? Bratty little sister?”
Jess smiled again. “Tired, big test, you called at eleven just after he’d fallen asleep while studying.”
“Well at least he was honest about it,” Max chuckled. “I have on occasion, been known to be a brat. But it can be so much fun.”
“I wouldn’t know,” Jess retorted, batting her eyes innocently. Both she and Max giggled. By the time Sam felt it was safe to return, the foundations of a good friendship had been set.
“So how long have you been dating?” Max asked as Jess led her over to the sofa, throwing a few discarded shirts out of the way.
“A few months.”
“A couple weeks,” Sam answered as he returned from the kitchen bearing three cups. He set them on the coffee table before the women and then threw a grin at them before sinking to the floor to sit cross legged. Max raised an eyebrow at the disparate answers. Jess just laughed.
“If you ask Sam,” Jess explained, “he officially asked me out after New Years. But what else would you consider going for coffee, to the movies, out for dinner?”
“That was just as friends,” Sam protested lightly, though Max could detect a faint blush around his ears.
“And we were the only two friends there, weren’t we?” Jess teased. She glanced at Max. “Dinner at a quaint little café with candles on the table, two people getting to know each other better. It was a date, wasn’t it?”
Max pretended to mull it over. “Definitely a date,” she concluded. Sam’s face fell mockingly.
“Why is it you always find someone to gang up in me with?” he demanded semi-petulantly.
“Just lucky I guess,” Max quipped. She reached for her cup of coffee.
“So speaking of,” Sam murmured, fiddling with his own cup. “What did you and Dean fight about?” He watched her reaction and saw a definite flinch. Whatever it was, it can’t have been good, especially since it sent her running to her other big brother.
“I’d uh, rather not talk about it,” Max mumbled, averting her face and taking a long sip of the hot brew. She didn’t notice the looks that Jess and Sam exchanged. She set her cup back on the coffee table. “Well, I guess if you’re moving today, I’ll have to find a motel or something.”
“Oh no,” Jess protested immediately. “If you don’t mind the couch, you’re definitely welcome to stay at my place.” She shook her head and then amended, “our place.”
“Oh I couldn’t,” Max protested politely. “I mean, isn’t that like intruding on a honeymoon couple?” she teased. Sam grabbed a crumpled paper from the floor and threw it at his sister.
“Oh shut up,” he chuckled and then sobered. “But seriously, if Jess doesn’t mind, we’d love to have you.”
“You’re sure?” Max asked carefully, watching them both. The couple nodded enthusiastically. “It wouldn’t be for more than a few days, a week at most. And I can pay my own way. You know, contribute to groceries and stuff.”
“I’m not worried about that,” Sam protested indignantly. He wasn’t rich, but he was sure he could manage to take care of his sister, or any other guest in their home.
“No, it’s only fair,” Max demurred. “I mean, you weren’t expecting me to show up on your about to be former doorstep.”
“Well all right then,” Jess decided firmly, slapping her hands lightly on her jean clad thighs. “We better get to packing this stuff out to the van so that you can officially welcome your sister to your new home.”
“Um don’t get me wrong,” Max chuckled. “I’ll be glad to help out. But um, do you think I could possibly take a quick shower first?”
“Yeah sure,” Sam nodded, awkwardly rising to his feet so he could show his sister the bathroom. “You won’t have to worry about Rick, he’s gone. Well, he never came home last night and he’s got a class later.”
Jess pulled her legs in as Max stood and moved past her to retrieve her duffel bag. Her nose wrinkled and her eyebrows furrowed together as she caught the slight waft of a musky odor coming from the girl. As brother and sister headed out of the room, she mulled it over, some part of her mind recognizing the situation with more than a little female intuitional help. But she waited patiently the few minutes it took for Sam to show Max the bathroom, find her some clean towels and then return to the living room.
“So that’s your little sister,” she stated, smiling up at Sam as he took over the seat Max had just vacated. Sam reached across the coffee table for his cup, nodding absently. “You’re worried about her.” Again it was a statement, not a question. They both heard the shower start up.
“Yeah,” Sam admitted with a sigh. He half turned in his seat to address his girlfriend. “You know, Max and Dean getting in a fight, that’s normal. It doesn’t happen often, but it’s no big deal. But a fight like this?’ Jess, she’s been crying.”
“And that’s not normal?” Jess questioned softly, running one slim hand over him in a comforting manner. Sam unconsciously leaned into it.
“For Max? No.” He shook his head. “It’s more, if she’s got a problem, she’ll be in your face about it. Or more likely, she just doesn’t let stuff bother her. We’d tease her, she’d tease right back. We fought, she’d fight back. We pranked her, she kicked our asses.” They both smiled at that, one from memory and the other over the seeming absurdity. “Max just, she never cries Jess.”
“Then I guess she was overdue,” Jess shrugged genially. Sam frowned and she nudged his knee with her own. “Just because she’s your sister doesn’t mean you’re an authority on the intricacies of womanhood,” she teased.
“I didn’t say that,” Sam protested, nudging her back. “I’m just saying it’s not usual.”
“But it does happen,” Jess reminded him. “Every woman cries. And some men too. They just don’t admit it.”
“Hey,” Sam squawked indignantly. “I’m secure enough in my manliness to admit I cry.”
“And I love you even more when you do,” Jess crooned back, wrinkling her nose at him. “But about your sister, didn’t you think…?”
“Think what?”
Jess was trying to think how she could politely and delicately tell her boyfriend what she suspected about his little sister, when she heard the shower shut off. “Never mind,” she sighed. “She’s fast in the shower.”
“Usually yeah,” Sam smiled. “But don’t let her take a bath unless you don’t need in there for four or five hours.”
“Ah,” Jess cooed, “a woman after my own heart.”
Admittedly, with Max helping them out, the packing and moving was accomplished much sooner than Sam and Jess had figured they would be able to manage. Jess commented once though, on Max’s ease at handling the heavier loads. Max had flashed her a grin and a quirky wink following with an explanation of how she worked out daily. Sam had made his own comments about how deceptively strong Max was and it was dropped. While they worked, Max asked Sam why he was moving out before the end of the month. There were quick explanations about Jess’ finances changing because she’d been unable to get the class load she’d wanted and the fact that Sam’s roommate had been making noise for a while about Sam moving out so his girlfriend could move in. So while it was still early in the relationship, Sam and Jess felt this was the better solution. Max didn’t offer judgment on it, as Jess seemed to hesitantly expect. She just nodded and continued with the work.
When the last box had been loaded, Jess hopped into her car to lead the way. She wisely refrained from asking Max to join her, since they had room to put the motorcycle in the van as Max had been running low on fuel. She seemed to recognize their familial need for some private words. At least that was what she read on Sam’s behalf. From the look of Max, she’d be just as happy not to.
But when they arrived at her, no, their apartment, Jess could tell from the frown on their faces that nothing had been resolved. And it hadn’t, because aside from telling Sam that it was nothing that happened on a hunt, Max was being completely clam-like about the subject. Wondering if putting the siblings to work was a good idea, Jess glanced at her watch. It was getting close enough to lunch time to use that as an excuse. She had noticed that Sam tended to be in a better frame of mind once he had eaten.
It was something that surprised her. That he could be so slim while eating the amounts of food that he did. But then, seeing that he was a fairly active person, preferring to walk to the campus when he could, the martial arts class that he took, she could understand.
“Hey guys,” she called to them as the climbed out of the high-riding van, “why don’t we take a break and get some lunch?”
“That sounds fine to me,” Sam shrugged. “Max?” His sister nodded and Sam turned to busy himself locking up the van properly. They had it for the whole day and didn’t need to return it until six o’clock that evening.
“All right,” Jess smiled, turning back to her car. “Hop in and we’ll decide on the way where to eat.”
*****
The first thing he noticed was the lack of heat. Dean grumbled under his breath, hands groping for the sheet he must have kicked off in his sleep. Finally finding the rather thin comforter behind him, Dean also realized that the search had taken too long and he had woken up too much to be able to sink blissfully back into slumber.
But even as he realized this, he wondered why he would want to. A slow, lazy grin spread across his face as the events of the previous night, though not for the first time, played in his mind. He lifted his head fractionally from the pillow it rested on, glancing around for Max. It was instinctive, knowing that she wasn’t in the bed. He had slept beside her before and knew what kind of excellent body heat she put out. And knowing how he craved warmth when sleeping, Dean was surprised that he hadn’t come up with more excuses to do so. But perhaps wisely, he had refrained, knowing that she needed time to grow up a bit.
And while he didn’t see her in the room, he did catch sight of his father’s familiar duffel bag. Funny, he hadn’t even heard the man slip into the room. Had he seen Max and Dean together in the same bed, with their clothes strewn everywhere? The smile slipped from his face as he realized how it would have, correctly so, looked to his father. Not that John Winchester was a fool. Dean realized belatedly that his father had been warning him about this exactly. He sighed, as he sat up, his chest heaving once sharply as he noticed that his clothes were in a pile on the foot of the bed. Funny, he didn’t remember disrobing so neatly. So someone must have put his clothes together at that spot.
Dean’s sharp eyes perceived that Max’s clothes were nowhere around. His eyes narrowed as he wondered who had been responsible for the clean-up. Perhaps Max had cleaned up before John had arrived. Or maybe John just kicked stuff out of his way when he had stumbled in. To be honest with himself, Dean was… embarrassed. At least when it came to what his father might think of the situation. And it had been a hell of a lot of long years since he’d felt that in any acute form.
It wasn’t so much that he was bothered by the fact that his father knew what they had been up to last night. Dean was sure after reviewing the events at the bar that it was a pretty neon glaring sign. It was…it was Max. And him, together in a totally new way. As Dean leaned over to retrieve his jeans and pull them on, he wondered how Max was faring with John. Was the old man giving her the silent treatment? Or was he possibly, just on the tiniest chance, happy for them?
When he heard the rumble of his father’s truck, he knew he’d find out soon. Resisting the urge to duck in the shower rather than immediately face his father, Dean pulled on his shirt from last night. Not bothering with his socks or shoes, he moved over to glance out the window. He saw his father pull in, but to his surprise, Max was not with him. A sweeping glance of what he could see of the parking lot told him that her bike wasn’t there and it certainly wasn’t where it usually resided, in the back of the pick-up. Cold dread swept through him until he resolutely pushed it down. Obviously Max had been upset and when she was upset, she’d go for a ride. Riding that bike soothed her. Dean totally understood that. Driving his baby around had the same effect on him. He let the curtain drop and ran a hand through his hair trying to tame the stiff strands that stood up awkwardly.
He stood, near the doorway, waiting for answers to questions that formed too rapidly in his head to easily decipher. The key in the lock sounded loud to him, but it ceased as the handle turned and then John was there. In one hand he held two Styrofoam boxes, with two large Styrofoam coffee cups atop them, balancing precariously. Dean hurried forward to snag them before they could tumble from his father’s grasp. John nodded his thanks, pulled the motel key from its slot and turned to shut the door behind him. There was silence for a moment, until Dean cleared his throat.
“Have you seen Max Dad?” he asked softly. His father threw him a guarded glance as he crossed by his son to set the boxes on the table flanked by two chairs.
“I have,” John conceded quietly as he fiddled with the top box, opening it up to reveal the contents of a hearty breakfast. “A couple hours ago.”
“She went for a ride?” Dean tried to clarify. He could tell that something was off, just by the stiff set of his father’s shoulders.
“Yeah,” John grunted, setting the top box now to one side while he fiddled with the other. “Here, sit down and eat.”
Dean ignored the offer of food. “When will she be back?”
John sighed and straightened up. He turned to face his son, his eyes grim and Dean began to feel that knot of tension that he’d managed to suppress curling its way through his body once more. “Sit Dean.” Though softly spoken, it was an order, which Dean recognized and gave in to. He slid into the nearest chair, his eyes trained upon his father while he waited for answers he was beginning to dread. John simply took one of the cups of coffee and took the other seat. He passed over a couple of plastic forks and knives rolled in a napkin, from his jacket pocket, before stripping the coat and sliding into the other seat.
“Well?” Dean persisted. The scent of scrambled eggs was wafting up to his nose and his stomach rumbled accordingly, but Dean pushed aside the hunger and focused on the older man sitting across from him. John poked at his own food, and then set his fork down.
“She’ll be back in a couple of days,” he informed Dean. He watched as his son silently parroted the words. John pursed his lips, seeming to mull some things over and then seemed to decide that the best bet was to lay it all out on the table. “She went down to see Sammy.”
“Why?” Dean asked bluntly. Oh, it wasn’t the obvious why go see Sammy. If she needed to get away, he was the obvious choice to make in this area. No, it was a why did she go at all?
“Dean,” John sighed again, “Son, I’ve seen this coming from a long way off. The past couple years, in fact.” At that Dean choked. Years? John took in his reaction and bit off a chuckle. Well, score one for the old man. “Yes Dean, years. Do you really think that brothers treat their little sisters like you treat Max?”
“What’d I do?” Dean’s normally low tones raised in octave a bit, giving him a justifiably panicked sound. John couldn’t contain his snort this time.
“Hell boy, holding doors open for her, spending all your free time with her, scaring off every guy that came sniffing around her for more than two seconds, giving her diamonds!” The last point was stressed heavily with a mocking frown. And Dean, realizing that his father did have a point, blushed just a little.
“Well, you know, uh, it wasn’t all…” Dean stammered and then trailed off. How could he explain to his father the dichotomy between feeling like her big brother on some points, but not the rest? He wasn’t sure he even understood it himself sometimes. It was just that eventually everything had morphed from pseudo-siblinghood to something much… more.
“You acted just like I did when I first met your mother,” John admitted quietly, cutting through Dean’s internal jumble of thoughts. His head snapped up, taking in John’s soft, wistful, reminiscent smile.
“I did?”
“John’s nod confirmed his words. “But the difference was your mom had a much different time growing up than Max did. She had a chance to go on dates, know people for longer than a few days and she made connections, you know.” He drew in a deep, steadying breath. Having realized it, John felt it hard to verbalize his own guilt in the matter. “We never really gave Max that chance.” He could see instantly the storm of emotions welling up in his son’s eyes. “Hell,” he hurried on to say, “I never really gave you boys that chance either.”
“Hey,” Dean chose to protest that instead of addressing the other. “We dated. Or at least I did. Not so sure about Sammy.”
“You really wanna call what you were doing dating?” John teased; mocking his son’s rather… perverted idea of dating. Dean caught the rib and flushed again.
“Well, no,” he grumbled, and then glanced at his father again. “But can you honestly say that’s what you wanted Max to be doing?”
It was John’s turn to flush and he held his fork up threateningly. “Those are some mighty interesting double standards there boy.”
Dean just grinned, knowing that he’d gotten his point home. “But I’m right,” he pushed.
“No, the point is Dean, that whatever happened last night, and please, for the love of God, spare me any and all details!” John shuddered mildly as Dean tried to hide another self-satisfied look. “The point is that Max wasn’t ready for what happened and she got scared.”
The grin fell from Dean’s face. Yeah, his father was right. The old man had been trying to warn him and Dean was just too damn stubborn, his eyes seeing only what he wanted to see and he’d screwed up bad. If he hadn’t, Max would still be here; merrily oblivious to what was going on.
“The thing now is,” John’s voice interrupted his thoughts once more, “what are you going to do about it?”
“What do you mean?”
“When Max comes back,” John clarified. “What are you going to do? What are you going to say to her?”
Dean’s eyebrows furrowed together as he thought the matter over. In all honesty, he’d never gotten to the point of thinking about the happily ever after, he’d just been waiting for the jumping off point, figuring that they’d figure it out together.
John watched his son for an aggrieved moment, and then let out a rumbling grunt. He leaned back in his chair, fork once again held aloft as he gave over the winning game plan to his son. “Look, when Max gets back, you ask her out. If she agrees, you take her somewhere nice, you compliment her, enjoy yourselves, and keep it clean!”
Dean gaped at his father. He was getting dating advice from his father! When had the world turned topsy-turvy? He opened his mouth to protest, but his father shot him down with a glare, as if reminding them that out of the two of them, who had the dating experience? Granted, it was over two decades out of style, but still. “And then,” John continued, “if things go well, you can tell her that you care about her.”
“Care about her?” Dean snorted. “Hell Dad, I love her!” As soon as the words were out, Dean groaned and dropped his face into the palm of one hand. He couldn’t believe that he’d just said that, for the first time in his remembrance, and not even to the right person. Oh, the teasing he was in for now.
“That’s good son,” John grunted. “Otherwise your ass would have been having a business meeting with the end of my boot!” He waited a moment, and then added, “Now eat your breakfast.”
Dean chanced a glance and noticed that his father was quite calm still about all this. It was a hell of a lot better than he could have hoped for. Now if things went as smoothly when Max returned... Now that John had pointed certain things out, he could see where he had gone wrong. Max had just proved to be too intoxicating last night, more so in a way that Dean couldn’t define. But now that he had a few days to work on it, he was definitely going to make it right.
“Oh, and by the way,” John mumbled as he reached for something else in his coat. “Happy Birthday.” He pushed a small box across the table. Dean’s eyes widened. In the midst of everything, he’d forgotten all about that. He reached for the box. “That’s from Max. The one from me is still out in the truck.”
Dean sucked in his breath. He peered at his father. “Maybe I should wait until she gets back,” he offered hesitantly. It didn’t seem right to open this gift without her here.
John shook his head. “No, she specifically made it a point that you have it today. She worked her ass off getting you that and I know she’d want you to open it now.”
Dean smiled, wondering what marvel his girl had found for him. He shook the box quickly, hearing whatever was inside give a familiar rattle. Ah, it was a cassette tape of some sort. Dean ripped into the gaily decorated birthday themed wrapping paper, pulling it away to uncover as he suspected a tape. But his eyes widened as he took in the words printed on the cover. He was… breath-taken.
“How did she get this?” he demanded softly, still studying the cover.
“I have no clue,” John chuckled. “Once she figured that you’d wanted it, she did everything she could to find it. And believe me, there are no stores where you can just walk in and find a copy of that recording.” Dean’s eyes began to water; he’d been staring for so long. A never publicly released copy of the early studio recordings of one of his all time favorite bands. It was like gold. There was just no present she could have gotten for him that would have been appreciated more. Dean rubbed his thumb over the smooth plastic cassette cover. Oh yeah, he was going to be planning one hell of a welcome home for that girl of his. Just as he had known how much she’d desired those earrings that he’d gifted her with, she knew of his for this music that he’d never mentioned at all. If knowing each other so intimately wasn’t the foundation of a beautiful relationship, Dean didn’t know what was.
A/N2: I took some liberty with Sam and Jess’ relationship. In canon, Sam stated that he was with Jess for eighteen months without having told her the truth. (Route 666) In this fiction, it will actually be, by Sam’s reckoning, almost 2 years. (So did they start going out on the show on his birthday?) I did this for a few reasons which will become clear in later chapters.
Chapter Twenty-six
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