ashorttriptohell | the rusty nail } { my strength is fading, I have to give in

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the rusty nail } { my strength is fading, I have to give in

Dean didn't know what he was doing in Smallville.

He shouldn't be in Smallville. He was supposed to be in Indiana, with Lisa and Ben, trying to see if he could handle living the normal, apple pie life, but he wasn't getting there. He wasn't even sure if he really wanted to go. All he knew was that he had made a promise to Sam to get out, and he didn't know if he could do it.

He had only left Lawrence a few hours ago, but he hadn't made it very far before being in serious need of a hard drink. In fact, it was the kind of drinking that he really didn't want to come up from, but after the very butch bartender of the Rusty Nail (worst bar name ever, in his humble opinion) decided that he needed to be cut off for the night, he paid his tab and stumbled his way out, hands fumbling in his pockets for his keys. He wasn't planning on driving -- that car was all he had left, and he wasn't about to destroy it -- but he needed somewhere to sleep, and he wasn't going to make it to a motel. Back seat was comfortable enough -- wasn't like he hadn't done it before.

The cool, fresh night air hit him like a blast to the face and woke him up a bit, making him sway a little less and walk a little straighter. He was surprised that he had even had enough sense not to just buy his own booze and give himself alcohol poisoning, but he had, and right now, he just wanted to sleep it off. He pulled the keys out of his pocket and went to unlock the passenger's side door, one hand rubbing his face slowly as he did.

Tomorrow was going to suck, and not just because of the hangover.

[If you need more ... lemme know?]

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"You probably wouldn't believe me if I told you," he began, swallowing hard as he ran a hand over his face. It was hard to actually put all of it into words, or even know where to start, because it was all twisted and connected together. But here he was, and he knew he had to give her some kind of explanation.

"You know how when I left, I had just gotten a call from my dad and said I had to go find my brother?" he continued slowly, watching her face as he spoke. "Well, things got bad. Really bad. And ... I'm the only one left."

It took every bit of willpower he had not to have his voice choke on that last sentence. It was all still so real and raw, and finally admitting out loud to the fact that he was completely alone was one of the hardest things he'd ever had to do, second only to actually letting Sam go.

Her heart broke more with every word. There were things she wanted to ask, so many empty spaces that she wanted to fill with information. But more than that she knew he needed someone. Maybe it wasn't her—it was never her—but that didn't mean she couldn't try to help.

Like she could stop herself.

She carefully wrapped her arms around his torso.

A hug was not what he was expecting. Dean had never really been a hugger, but that didn't mean he didn't want to be held every once in a while. He froze at first, unsure as to what to do, but eventually he just leaned into the familiar, sliding an arm around her shoulders to pull her closer, just burying himself in what he already knew.

It was familiar. Dean could use a little bit of familiar right now, even if he wouldn't admit it. His lips came to rest against the top of her head, just staying as close as he could. "I'm sorry I left like that."

"Don't apologize," she answered softly as she held onto him. "From the sound of it, I can understand why you did." She grinned weakly, though she knew he couldn't see it. "Besides—given the number of times I've done the same thing since then, I can't really pass judgment."

He nodded once, considering for a moment all the other things that he should be apologizing for, but there was one among them that easily covered all the others. "I'm sorry for lying to you." He pinched his eyes closed again. "I know you said don't, but I feel like I should."

"You're right. For that, you should." She sighed before she continued. "I don't have to tell you how much I hate being lied to. Anyone who knows me is aware of that...and back then, if I'd found out, I'd have been furious. But I've gained some perspective since then. Sometimes people lie to protect those they care about, and I know what that looks like. That doesn't mean I don't want to know why, I do...but if you won't tell me...I can accept that."

She paused, shifting her position just a bit. "Maybe you're not who I thought you were, but I know you're a good man."

"To be honest?" Which ... he was on a streak at this point. He was just going to keep going. "I wasn't such a big fan of me at the time. I just ... wanted to be someone else."

There was a beat.

"Not saying that I wasn't me. There's just a lot of shit that's attached to the name 'Dean Winchester' and I didn't want that to impact us. It probably sounds really stupid compared to where I'm standing now, but ... I just wanted to be a regular guy who didn't have this insane life. Jason ... he could have that."

Another weak grin. "Believe it or not, I've heard something like that before."

"Really?" He was surprised. He didn't think that Lana would be the kind of girl who had a lot of people like that in her life. "Because that all sounded really pathetic in my head."

She pulled away from him just enough to look at him. "I think you've forgotten where we used to live."

He smirked. "Yeah, guess so." He looked down at her, before rubbing her arms gently. "It's really good to see you, Lana."

"You, too." She paused, making a point to get his name right this time. "Dean."

He gave her a small smile at that, before starting to pull away a bit. "I should let you get back to what you were doing. You probably have someone waiting for you."

She shook her head. "No, not really. I was just out for a drive." She averted her eyes and chuckled a little to herself—maybe a little at herself. "I don't even live here anymore. My apartment is miles from here."

"Wow," he said, surprised. "I thought you loved Smallville."

I do, it's just—" She let out a heavy sigh. "A lot changed after you left. And no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't stay."

He took a deep breath and nodded. "I know that feeling."

Lana looked up at him, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "You didn't hear anything, did you? I did a lot of things I'm not proud of, and...some of them were newsworthy."

"Sweetheart, I was too busy doing my own list of things I'm not so proud of. I wasn't exactly watching the news." He sighed. "Besides, I'm pretty sure mine has yours beat."

Well, if that was really what he thought...

"I married Lex Luthor."

There, she said it, and that really wasn't the worst of it.

He took a deep breath, before shrugging. "I went to Hell."

Again, he'd shocked her.

"You...you're not speaking metaphorically, are you?"

"No," he shook his head, rubbing at one of his eyes. "I'm really not. I went to Heaven too, but I actually think that one sucked worse."

"How—"

She shook her head. She really didn't want to know, at least not right now.

"You're not sleeping in your car." And she meant that. He should listen to her.

He doesn't know where the smirk came from, or even the energy to manage it, but it was there, fleeting for a moment just from the way she said it.

"You gonna take me home with you?"

That statement was chock full of flirt. She should humor him.

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