Fiction LitG02- Misconceptions

Title: Living In The Gray

Chapter Title: Misconceptions...

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Angel the Series, or to Supernatural. They belong respectively to Whedon/ Greenwalt and to Eric Kripke. No infringement is intended and this fiction is for private enjoyment only.

Rating: up to PG-15

Genre: Crossover

Type: Real Family

Pairing: canon show pairings

Summary: Once they knew the truth of the matter, it made sense that Cousin Cordy was stronger than anyone gave her credit for.

Spoilers/ Time line: This is first Season of Angel, starting between the episodes “Somnambulist” and “Expecting”. For Supernatural, it is pre-series, when Sam has started college and John are Dean are still hunting together a bit.

Feedback: Always welcome!

Distribution: Ask first please.

A/N: I had issued this idea to the Twisting The Hellmouth site. The “Cousin Delia” challenge was not answered, so I decided to go ahead and write it myself.

Living In The Grey

Chapter Two

Misconceptions...

It was easy to see that John was completely shell shocked by the so called news that his brother in law had conveyed to him that evening. Hell, Dean was as well, but given his propensity for placing his family before himself, he knew that he needed to keep a clear head to help his father keep from losing his own.

“Dad, think about this,” he warned softly as he took a seat on the bed opposite from the one his father was perched on. “You didn't cheat on mom. And Aunt Elaine hiring a nurse, even in that day and age to... to... steal your junk!” was the best euphemism he could come up with and he was relieved when he was rewarded with a small, bemused smile from his father before John went back to brooding. Finally, at long last he sighed.

“You don't understand Dean,” he shook his head slowly, painful memories and old wounds rising up. “Elaine was... she always, always got what she wanted. She was the type of bitch that figured she was entitled.” He glanced away, towards the rest of the small motel room they had taken. “And when she had Cordelia...”

“What Dad?” Dean implored, hating seeing his father brought low by these people that weren't good enough to wipe shit off of his father's shoe.

When his father glanced back up it was easy to see that he wasn't quite in the present day anymore. “Every time she came over or we were over there, she was always putting little Cordelia in Mary's arm, smiling so...” he broke off in a choked voice. He glanced up at his son and shook his head slowly. “Said we had to get used to it since you weren't a baby anymore, always teasing us about when we'd have another.” He inhaled sharply as he seemed to remember something else. “I always had the sense... I remember thinking one time, the look on that woman's face. It was like she had no interest in her daughter unless we were there. If we weren't there, then Cordelia had no value. I-!”

“That's not your fault Dad,” Dean hastened to assure his father, reaching out to clap him gently on the shoulder. But John was shaking his head.

“You don't understand Dean,” John argued softly. “Things weren't...” His voice was sounding full and heavy, sorrowful and Dean could see it was costing his father, trying to keep the tears back. But he had always wondered if his father needed to talk about his mother more. His father was a soldier, in more ways than one, and compartmentalizing was the name of the game. But sometimes it could get to be too much and implosion was even messier, because it always turned into explosion and took out people you never meant it to.

It wasn't like Dean wanted his father to turn into a mushy gooey, mess of emotions. Just let the pressure off once in a while. And this was obviously one of those times.

“You can tell me Dad,” he leaned in to look his father in his eyes. “I'm a big boy now. And I know,” he swallowed heavily as well, “that I've idolized Mom all my life. But she was human too. She had to have made some mistakes in her life, right?” It nearly killed something inside to have to say it, but even as it had come out of his mouth, he realized that he was right. “Just like you, me, Sammy, hell, every damn person on this earth.”

“Yeah,” John chuckled without humor.

His father took in several deep breaths, looking like he was trying to gird himself against whatever was causing him the pain in his memories. Trying to build up his defenses against the memories. It took him some time, but he finally admitted, much to Dean's shock, “your mother left me. It wasn't for very long and you were still little, of course,” he gasped out and Dean's eyes were wide. But the immediate question on his tongue slipped out automatically.

“Why?”

John was shaking his head in response. “I always asked that of myself too,” he informed his eldest son. “I didn't understand. One day she was home. I went out on a short jaunt with the Marines. When I got back, she had packed a bag for her and your stuff and was staying in a long term motel suite.”

“Did she give any reason why or...?” Dean mumbled, trying to wrap his head around this new information. John was now the one reaching for his son to bolster his flagging confidence.

“The first time we talked, I was upset, because I hadn't any indication that she was that unhappy, that desperate,” John replied, tears in his eyes, but he tried valiantly to blink them away. “Your mother wasn't exactly calm herself. It was like she was just waiting for the moment I called to unload everything. Neither of us were making much sense.” He sighed once more and rolled his eyes heavenward.

“I can see that,” Dean finally shrugged after a moment. It was how it happened between him and Sammy. They could hold it in, resorting to teasing and bugging one another until it finally got to be too much for one or the other and then they'd blow. Everything would get laid out on the table and then, when the air cleared, it was back to business as usual. But parents... that was different.

“Anyway,” John moistened his lips and continued, “when I finally got your mother to talk to me again, she was going on about my having lied to her, going behind her back and betraying her.” He watched as Dean's face contorted slightly. “All of the things that she was upset about, some were valid. I had promised to give up the Marines when you came along, so that she wasn't having to do it all herself. But I found it more difficult than I had thought it would be and I kept making excuses. That was on me.”

Dean smirked slightly. It was a novel thing, to hear his father admit to wrongdoing.

“So there was that issue,” John sighed, “which really, was pretty big. And at the time, I thought...”

“Thought what Dad?” Dean urged his father to share. John was shaking his head and pursing his lips now.

“I wonder now if Elaine...” he began, looking his son in the eye for a moment before tearing his eyes away. “If she said something. If she told your mother?” he wondered. He stood abruptly and began to pace around the room. “She never made it a secret that she wanted something from me. And your mother, out of respect for Richard downplayed it, so I did as well. I wasn't interested in her. She was a viper. And we always ended up laughing it off .But now, some of the things your mother accused me of... Well now, I think I understand where they were coming from.”

“She made mom think that you had an affair with her after all,” Dean connected, swallowing a small surge of bile at the thought of his father betraying his mother, which he knew could never happen. But given what his parents thought this woman was capable of, the pain that his mother must have felt seemed viscerally real to him at this moment.

“It didn't last long,” John frowned. “You two were only gone for about a month.”

“A month?” Dean scoffed. “Did we...?” he began, but didn't know how to ask. John turned to face his son and softened a little.

“After that first week,” he began, “I used to come by after work every day to see you. Your mom would stay in the bedroom and we'd play. Sometimes eat some dinner that I'd pick up at the local diner. On the weekends, if I was available, we'd go down to the park. I took you swimming once.” He laughed then. “Your mother was so mad at me for that.”

“Why would she be mad? Dean demanded, though he had a small grin on his face as his father did.

“It was pretty chilly out,” John grinned at the memory. “She was going on at me for letting you outside with a wet head. But you were just so proud of yourself, that you went off the diving board and all the neat tricks you got to do.”

“Really?” Dean scoffed. John nodded proudly.

“You always were a brave kid,” he complimented and then shook his head. “Always ready to rush in. A little bit foolish, you ask me.”

“Well come on,” Dean half whined, pleased to see his father recalling something good. “Where's the fun in sitting on the sidelines?”

“Anyway,” John resumed his seat, “you were so proud of yourself that your Mom just couldn't stay mad, at either of us, I guess. We actually talked that day, quite a bit. But then I went and reminded her that I wouldn't be available the next weekend.”

“Marines?” Dean asked pointlessly. But John nodded anyways.

“But for some reason,” he mused, glancing upwards again, as he thought his way through things, “that seemed to be a changing point. She asked me about some other maneuvers we'd been on. I gave her the answers, but she wouldn't say why she wanted to know. The next week, she brought you home and while that was great, we also sat down and figured out a game plan to deal with this rift.”

Dean listened to his father's words, trying to be objective about it, hear it from an outsider's point of view. Which, in a way, not remembering these events, he was. But it was still his parents and either one of them in pain was something more than he could tolerate. Something clicked in his mind and he snapped his fingers once. “Dad, is it possible that Elaine used a certain time, when you were gone, as evidence? I mean, if Mom was already upset about you being gone and Elaine was as much a bitch about everything? Those type of women don't stop to always think things through. They just go for what they want. And if Mom had what she wanted, she'd probably use any means necessary...”

His father looked thoughtful for a moment and slowly nodded. “You been watching Oprah again boy?”

“No!” Dean denied indignantly. He had, though this hadn't been a topic of discussion. “It just makes sense, doesn't it? And if that's what she used as proof, well, it should have been easy enough for Mom to check out. She had access to your past records as your spouse, right?”

“Yeah,” John nodded. “That was just a weekend of practice maneuvers, nothing covert, so she could have requested access to it. Things were pretty lax back then.”

“So Mom did the smart thing and checked out your whereabouts and found out Elaine was lying,” Dean nodded. “She was wrong so she came back.”

“And maybe it was a good thing,” John sighed heavily, then chuckled at his son's wide eyes at that admission. “It brought things to a head about the other problems,” he explained. “It was tough, but your Mom and I? We came through it a hell of a lot stronger. That also,” he mused, “explains why your mom started distancing herself from Elaine. And Richard and the baby.”

“See? Dean almost gloated at having been proved right. But then the sinking weight fell back onto his shoulders. “So how do we figure out... I mean, we've already pinned Elaine for a cold hearted viper. Is it really possible?” he wanted to know. It seemed his father did as well. But at the same time there was something in John's eyes. John didn't want to know, because he had his two boys to protect. If he didn't acknowledge Cordy as his daughter, it would keep her safer in this world they lived in, than if he did. But still the thought that she was his girl, he had to know that she was okay.

“You know,” Dean was grinning at his father, understanding perfectly well the man's reasoning without if ever having been stated. “It would be perfectly acceptable for Uncle and favorite Cuz to check in with her. See how she's adjusting to living on her own in this big bad world. As long as we don't... stay long.”

“Dean... I...” John began, but his eldest could see the yearning in his father's eye. Not for a child other than his own boys. But to see the little girl that he had loved before any of this madness had come about. Dean pushed down his own worries and hurts that automatically tried to swim up to the surface. His Dad needed this reassurance and there was no way in hell he'd detract from that. Besides, he was kinda curious about her.

“We'll go tomorrow,” Dean decided, scooting down the edge of the bed to remove the phone book from the drawer of the nightstand. He flipped open to the C's and quickly found Chase. Finding her name was easy. Her phone number as well. And the address in the fine print as well. Dean turned the book and held it up to his father. “See, easy as pie.”

And just like that, it was decided.

Chapter Three- Poppa?