Dean Winchester (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hasperkynipples) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ashorttriptohell2011-09-22 03:20 pm
hasperkynipples) wrote in ashorttriptohell2011-09-22 03:20 pm
Entry tags:
lana's apartment } { just can't deal with sitting still
It had been a week and a half since Sam died.
In that week and half, Dean's spent seventy-five percent of it drunk, which is better than the hundred percent it would have been if it hadn't been for Lana. In fact, if it hadn't been for Lana, he probably would have died of alcohol poisoning by now. He never would have made it to Indiana, and his promise to his brother would be broken, but that wouldn't really matter because he would have been dead.
He still wasn't all that convinced that him not being a dead is all that great an idea, but he's slowly warming up to the idea. Slowly. And Lana was a big part of that. Technically, he wasn't quite fulfilling the promise he made to his brother -- he was pretty sure that Lisa was mentioned specifically -- but Dean had a feeling that this was a better fit. Dean actually loved Lana. And he's seventy-five percent sure that she still loved him too.
Love wasn't always enough though. It had been a week and a half, and he still wanted to crawl into a bottle and never come out. There were still things after him, things that had left him demon and ghost proofing Lana's apartment like an insane person, and there's some small part of him that thought that she probably was thinking that he was just that, insane, but at the end of the day he was keeping her safe, whether he was there or not, and that alone made him feel better. But he still wasn't sure he fit. He knew that she had her friends and her life, and he was never going to fit into that scenario -- he never had in the first place, but he was even more broken than he was when he first came to Smallville. The Apocalypse had chewed him up and spit him out several times over, and he didn't know if he could do this. He was trying, but every once in a while he would have these moments.
Moments where he was alone, his eyes would fall on his car keys sitting on Lana's counter, and that urge to leave would rear it's ugly head. Sometimes it hit stronger than others, and today was one of those days. Lana was taking a shower, he was sitting in her living room, staring at the keys to his car, and before he could even stop himself, he was moving. He was getting up, crossing the room, and cool metal was in his hand. Next thing he was turning and heading for the door -- he needed to do this, rip off the band-aid and just be gone before he made things worse. Lana would understand later.
In fact, Lana would probably thank him for this later.
His hand closed around the door knob, and he pulled it open, but what was behind it stopped him dead in his tracks and kept him from going any further out of sheer surprise alone.
"Chloe," he managed to stammer out after a moment of dead silence. " ... Hi."
In that week and half, Dean's spent seventy-five percent of it drunk, which is better than the hundred percent it would have been if it hadn't been for Lana. In fact, if it hadn't been for Lana, he probably would have died of alcohol poisoning by now. He never would have made it to Indiana, and his promise to his brother would be broken, but that wouldn't really matter because he would have been dead.
He still wasn't all that convinced that him not being a dead is all that great an idea, but he's slowly warming up to the idea. Slowly. And Lana was a big part of that. Technically, he wasn't quite fulfilling the promise he made to his brother -- he was pretty sure that Lisa was mentioned specifically -- but Dean had a feeling that this was a better fit. Dean actually loved Lana. And he's seventy-five percent sure that she still loved him too.
Love wasn't always enough though. It had been a week and a half, and he still wanted to crawl into a bottle and never come out. There were still things after him, things that had left him demon and ghost proofing Lana's apartment like an insane person, and there's some small part of him that thought that she probably was thinking that he was just that, insane, but at the end of the day he was keeping her safe, whether he was there or not, and that alone made him feel better. But he still wasn't sure he fit. He knew that she had her friends and her life, and he was never going to fit into that scenario -- he never had in the first place, but he was even more broken than he was when he first came to Smallville. The Apocalypse had chewed him up and spit him out several times over, and he didn't know if he could do this. He was trying, but every once in a while he would have these moments.
Moments where he was alone, his eyes would fall on his car keys sitting on Lana's counter, and that urge to leave would rear it's ugly head. Sometimes it hit stronger than others, and today was one of those days. Lana was taking a shower, he was sitting in her living room, staring at the keys to his car, and before he could even stop himself, he was moving. He was getting up, crossing the room, and cool metal was in his hand. Next thing he was turning and heading for the door -- he needed to do this, rip off the band-aid and just be gone before he made things worse. Lana would understand later.
In fact, Lana would probably thank him for this later.
His hand closed around the door knob, and he pulled it open, but what was behind it stopped him dead in his tracks and kept him from going any further out of sheer surprise alone.
"Chloe," he managed to stammer out after a moment of dead silence. " ... Hi."
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Dean shifted uncomfortably for a moment, before shrugging. "I was considering it. Maybe." Actually, no, he was considering bailing, but Chloe put a definite kink in that plan.
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Then there was an awkward pause as he tried to figure out where the conversation was supposed to go next. "Can I get you anything?"
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"Dean, who are you--" She stops short when she sees the answer to her question. "Chloe."
She had just called him Dean, didn't she?
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She looked at him, eyebrows raised and head tilted slightly. "Dean?"
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And this just became way more complicated than it should be.
"I think ... I think you two should talk. I'll make coffee."
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"I was going to tell you he was here."
"Forget that he's here, what's up with the name change?" She was genuinely concerned, though a bit suspicious. People don't change their names for no reason, though the question was, why would Lana call him anything but Jason in the privacy of her own home?
Lana hesitated just slightly, but she knew that look on Chloe's face. She couldn't get away with any less than the truth.
"Jason Teague was an alias he gave me the first time he was here. His real name is Dean Winchester. I don't think he expected to pass through again, or settle here, but when he did...he kept it."
Chloe was getting more and more suspicious as Lana went on, but she would try to give the benefit of the doubt.
"So is he FBI or something?"
Lana paused again, which she knew would only make Chloe more suspicious, but it couldn't be helped. "It's complicated."
Chloe blinked, eyebrows shooting up. She was dumbfounded. "He lied to you about who he was and you're letting him live with you?"
"I know how it sounds, but he explained everything to me. I trust him."
This was beginning to sound far too familiar for Chloe's comfort. "Then maybe you could explain it to me, because I don't."
Lana nodded. "I can understand that. But I can't. If you want to know, ask him and he'll tell you if he's ready, but it's not my story to tell." She paused, giving Chloe a slightly pointed look she knew she would understand. "I think you of all people could understand that."
Chloe understood. Lana was referencing Clark and his secret, and that was cause for pause. Her eyes drifted in the direction of the kitchen, from which the scent of fresh coffee was already drifting out. After a moment, she took a step that way, intending to waste no time in getting answers to her questions.
Lana reached out to catch her by the arm.
"He just lost his brother, Chloe," she said softly. "Give him a little time first."
Chloe's lips pressed into a thin line, but she conceded defeat, at least until she could gather her own information. Her feet shifted toward the door, but she gave her friend a final warning.
"Be careful, Lana." She paused, casting another glance toward the kitchen before turning her eyes back to the other woman. "Tell him I'm sorry about his brother, okay?"
Lana nodded. "I will."
Chloe returned the nod with a small look of concern before showing herself out.
As soon as Chloe was gone, Lana plopped herself onto the couch, breathing out a deep sigh as she sank into the cushions.
The next month was going to be stressful.
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So he focused on making the coffee and bringing it over to the couch. "I didn't think it would be easy," he said softly. "She just needs a little time."
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But he's still sorry. One way or another.
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Lana shakes her head. "It's not your fault. It is what it is."
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/scene