I realized I loved you in the fall

iamthemagicks:

“What are you doing here?” Lisa asks with a sigh, Dean lingering just outside her door. No swagger this time, no cheshire grin and wet, pink lips. He looks lost; like he has been driving for hours, only stopped here by chance, and accident.

She rubs her stomach, the material of her shirt starting stretch out over her expanding belly. Not a lot, not yet; but there’s a definite curve, obvious. Dean has been MIA since she told him four weeks ago, when she still looked normal. No evidence of their bendy weekend besides her need to vomit. She never expected to see him again. She gave him the out.

He clears his throat, looks down at the ground. Wet pavement, his sneakers kicking at some gravel into puddle. “I wanna be here,” he says. Sounds lost too, his voice empty of that confidence he generally oozes. 

Another sigh and she rubs her temples; she’s been getting migraines lately, and craving Cheetos at all hours of the night. “I don’t need anything from you, Dean,” she says and it looks like he’s hurt by it. “I mean…” she clarifies. “I don’t want you sticking around because of some silly moral obligation.” She stands proud as she folds her arms. Her mother did it basically alone, so can she. 

“No.” He steps over the threshold, just into the apartment, encompassing almost all of her personal space. The smell of him is enough to make her knees go weak, to make the space between her legs ache for him. Leather and gun powder. Cologne and rain. She thinks she could cry, with Dean Winchester on her porch, looking as sad as he does, as lonely. 

He puts his hands on her hips and pulls her in, tight. Like he’ll never let go, like she’s the only thing keeping him attached to this earth. He breathes in her hair, reaches around to rest his hands at the small over back. “I wanna be here,” he whispers, like it’s a secret. 

Loosely, she rests her arms over his shoulders, lets him hold her tight. “If that’s what you want,” she manages to say, though she wants to laugh and cry at the same time, be giddy and wonderful. But she keeps calm, because this could snap at any second.

Dean pulls back a bit and looks her in the eye, really looks her dead on. But it’s only a second before he takes a hand from her hip and slips it under the material of her shirt to curve his hand around her stomach, his palms cold and fingers wet. And he answers, with positive awe in his voice. “I want this.”

(via iamthemagicks)