FIC: When Atlas Shrugs
Jul. 23rd, 2008 06:16 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ficwizeTitle: When Atlas Shrugs
Fandom: Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles/Supernatural
Prompt: Written as a response to the graphic below. The graphic and the quote on the graphic are the result of the talents of![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
billybee_honey.
Warnings: Pre-series for both shows. Some sexual content.
Rating: Adult
Summary: No one can carry the weight of the world all the time.
Disclaimer: Neither of these fandoms are mine.
A/N: Written for the crossover challenge at![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
sccxovers. Many thanks to dramady for the beta.
As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
*************
John Winchester recognized the look in the brunette woman’s eyes the moment he saw her. She was running. There were signs – nervous glances over the shoulder, suspicious looks at everyone she encountered, shadows crawling through the eyes that promised horrible memories just behind them.
She was definitely running, but she wasn’t broken – not this one. Her hand never strayed far from her side and John would have bet his life that he’d find a weapon in her pocket if he had the chance to look. When their eyes met, across the diner – she with her small son, John with his two boys – John felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
Kindred spirit. She studied him the same way he studied her, measuring, probing, considering, evaluating. She was dangerous – but not to him, not yet anyway. Mostly, he thought she was beautiful. He had loved Mary with all his heart, but it had been two years since she’d died – two long, lonely, terrifying years with no one standing between John and the darkness but two small boys who didn’t really understand, or worse, were just starting to understand all too much.
Looking at the woman across the diner, as she sat spooning cereal into the baby’s mouth, John suspected he’d found someone who did understand. She glanced up and met his eyes suddenly. He nodded respectfully and was rewarded with the slightest hint of a smile.
“Dad!” An insistent voice interrupted his thoughts and made him look down to his left.
“What is it, Dean?”
“Sammy’s done with his food.” Dean pointed out. “He’s making a mess now.”
Glancing down at the toddler, John started. Sam had managed to smear the eggs that hadn’t made it to his mouth all over his face and hair, not to mention the table. “Easy there, Sammy! You’re supposed to eat the eggs, not wear them.”
Sam grinned back at him, banging his hand proudly on the table and John laughed. “At least you’re enthusiastic,” John grumbled good naturedly, making Dean giggle, as he grabbed a napkin and wrestled Sam long enough to clean him up a little bit. “I guess that’s good enough. What do you think, Dean?” John glanced over at his eldest son to see Dean make a “eh” gesture.
“I guess so.”
“You guess so?” John repeated in mock severity. “When you have jelly all over your face?”
“I do not!” Dean protested, but he was grinning, his teeth flashing white through a ring of purple. John raised an eyebrow and grabbed the same napkin he’d just finished cleaning Sam with and began rubbing it vigorously over Dean’s face, much to both boys’ delight.
When he glanced over at the brunette woman again, she was openly laughing. It made her look younger than John had originally thought she was and he was struck again by how beautiful she was. Regretfully, he pulled out his wallet and dropped some money on the table next to the check that the waitress had brought out earlier. “Come on, you two ruffians. We’ve got work to do.”
“Okay!” Dean stood up on the seat, jumping down before John could scold him and started gathering Sam’s things and shoving them haphazardly into a diaper bag that had seen better days. John unstrapped Sam from the high chair and picked him up, slinging him on one hip casually, before hoisting the diaper bag onto his shoulder and taking Dean’s hand.
John resisted the urge to look over his shoulder as he led his family to the parking lot and loaded them into the Impala. The woman was beautiful, but his priorities were right in front of him – and at the old church where he was headed next.
******************
Tired and frustrated, John pushed open the door to the diner. Sam was crying fitfully on his shoulder, and even Dean – the good little soldier that he was – was dragging in exhaustion. An entire day wasted, unless reading the diaries of an old mad priest counted for anything and it didn’t in John’s world. He wanted answers, not mysteries that couldn’t be solved.
He led his boys to the same booth that they’d eaten breakfast in and waved over one of the bored looking waitresses to order food as quickly as he could. Once he was relatively certain that he and Dean would have hamburgers in a few minutes, he pulled out a box of animal crackers for Sam.
Eyes widening at the site of the familiar treat, Sam quieted to a few sniffles and hiccups and John gratefully gave him one of the cookies. “Dean, can you keep an eye on your brother for a minute? I’m going to run to the men’s room.”
“Sure, Daddy.” Dean answered, sounding tired enough that John had to suppress a surge of guilt.
“Thanks, buddy. We’ll go back to the hotel as soon as dinner is over, okay?”
“Okay.” Dean snagged one of the cookies from the circus box they came in and munched on it quietly.
Excusing himself, John hurried to the bathroom, meeting the eyes of the waitress who nodded that she’d keep an eye on the boys for a minute. Closing the door behind him, John took a second and released a deep breath, fighting back simultaneous feelings of rage and helplessness. He’d been so sure he’d find what he was looking for at the church – so sure it would yield some clue to the yellow eyed demon. Instead, he’d found – and read – the diaries of a man gone mad nearly fifty years before.
Slamming his hand against the wall, John cursed. Then he used the bathroom for its intended purpose, washed his hands, and went back to rejoin his family. He was so preoccupied, that he didn’t even realize that someone else was in the hallway until he almost ran her down. Automatically, he reached out to steady the woman he’d hit, his hands finding her shoulders.
He wasn’t expecting her to jab an elbow into his gut and he grunted, hands tightening spasmodically. “Oof! Hey!”
She followed the first blow with a second one, but John was ready for her this time and caught her wrist. “Wait! I’m sorry…”
“Let me go.” The warning was quiet, but something in it raised the hair on John’s neck again and he suddenly realized just who he was holding – the same woman from earlier, and she had her infant son cradled in the arm he wasn’t holding.
He let go immediately. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to run into you. I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing.”
She glared at him for a long moment, until recognition slowly dawned in her eyes. “I saw you this morning.”
“Yeah. Me and my boys are here for dinner.” John smiled sheepishly. “It must be as good as Dean claims it is.”
“What?”
“Dean’s my eldest. He says they have the best fries in Texas,” John shrugged. “That’s why we’re back again.”
“You didn’t have fries for breakfast.” The woman shifted her sleeping baby, backing up another step and John held up his hands in an attempt to soothe her.
“He had them last night at dinner. We’re staying at the hotel across the street.”
“Oh.” The woman relaxed slightly. “So are we.”
“Alone?” John asked, one eyebrow going up. “It’s not the safest place I’ve ever seen.”
The woman’s eyes changed from wary caution to steel. “We’re fine, thank you Mr….”
“John.”
“Mr. John.”
“No. Winchester.” John stopped, trying to gather his thoughts. “Why don’t I start over? I’m John Winchester.” He held out a hand and after a hesitation that was long enough he was starting to feel stupid, she took it. “My boys are Dean and Sam.”
“I’m Sarah, and this is also John.” Sarah nodded at the baby, her whole face softening as soon as she looked at her child. “Sarah Reese.”
“It’s nice to meet you.”
Suddenly, John heard Sammy start crying and he took a hasty step towards the dining room area. “Sorry, that’s Sammy.”
“No problem.” Sarah assured him as he hurried to his children, her expression thoughtful when he glanced back at her.
******************
“Sarah,” John called her name as she came out from the restroom. The small diner had filled up with hungry travelers and there was nowhere for her to sit without a wait. He saw her hesitate for a second, before she accepted his silent invitation and slid into the booth across from him and his oldest son. The baby was still sleeping and John smiled at him. “He’s a sound sleeper.”
“Yes, he is.” Again he watched the years slip from her face when she looked at her child, joy and amazement still evident in her eyes. It brought a lump to his throat and reminded him of Mary and how she used to stare at both of their children with the same unadulterated love shining on her face. Sarah looked over at Dean, who was studying her with silent judging eyes. “I’m Sarah.”
When Dean stayed silent, John reached over and patted his leg. “Say hi, Dean.”
“Hi.” The little boy looked up at John and then back over at the woman. “I’m Dean. That’s Sammy.”
Sammy ignored Sarah completely. He was too busy stuffing his mouth with the cut up bits of hamburger and French fries that John had fixed for him.
Sarah smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Dean smiled, shyly, echoing his father’s grin. “How old is he?” Dean asked, looking at the baby.
“This is John. He’s almost eight months old.”
“That’s my dad’s name!” Dean told her excitedly and Sarah laughed softly, the sound rich and melodic, even if it did seem to startle her.
“I know.”
John patted Dean’s leg again. “Why don’t we let Ms. Sarah order some dinner.”
“Okay.” Dean’s interest quickly turned back to his own food and he alternated eating and making faces at his little brother, while John and Sarah sized each other up over the table. Everything he saw convinced John that he had been right earlier. Sarah was running, but she wasn’t beaten. She was a fighter.
After a third order of burger and fries had been brought to the table, Sarah paused for a moment before John reached over the table. “Here, I’ll take him while you eat.”
For just a second, her eyes flashed a warning, but John didn’t back down and didn’t lower his hands and finally she nodded and passed him the baby. “Hey, buddy.” John smiled down at the sleeping face. “Aren’t you gonna be a looker? You take after your mama.”
The compliment made Sarah blush slightly, but she shook her head. “He looks more like his father, actually.”
“He must be proud.”
“He would be,” Sarah replied, her voice suddenly choked. “He died before John was born.”
The grief in her voice tore at John’s own wounds, barely closed and that would never fully heal and he nodded. “He would be very proud. All fathers love their sons.” He trailed off, before adding quietly. “And their son’s mothers.”
“Your wife?” Sarah asked sounding like she already knew the answer.
“Died, over a year ago.” John confirmed. “It’s just us now.”
Sarah ate her burger in silence for a moment. “It’s hard.”
“More than anyone else ever realizes.”
“How did she die?” Sarah asked, suddenly. It was only the fact that John could hear tears in her voice that made him answer.
“She was murdered.” He kept his voice even, pitched low, so that Dean didn’t look up from the napkin he was drawing on. Even so, he couldn’t keep the rage completely hidden and Sarah made a choking noise.
“So was Kyle. Protecting us.”
John swallowed, nodding. “Mary, too.”
“What was she like?”
The question surprised him and he looked up with a shaky smile. “How long do you have?”
“Long enough,” Sarah smiled, and John found himself telling her all about Mary – her smile, her laugh, the way she loved to dance in the rain, the way she always burned popcorn. By the time he finished, Sam was asleep in the high chair, and Dean was dozing against his side.
Sarah wiped away a tear. “It sounds like you loved her very much.”
“I loved her a lifetime’s worth,” John answered fiercely. He looked down at the baby he was still holding. “What about Kyle?”
“We loved each other a lifetime’s worth, too.” Sarah whispered. They looked at each other and suddenly John was desperate that their evening not end this way.
“Let me take you back to the hotel?” He asked, slowly, his eyes asking more than his words. He had never been the type to pick up a woman he’d just met, but talking about Mary illustrated how alone he really was. And Sarah, for all that she obviously wasn’t telling him, understood.
Sarah hesitated briefly, her eyes searching his. He didn’t know what she was looking for, but she must have found it because she nodded her assent. Quietly, they gathered their sleeping children, dropped some bills on the table for the waitress, and walked out the Impala. “Do you have a car?”
“We walked,” Sarah answered and John nodded, handing her the baby so that they could cross the street and drive the mile to the hotel. Once there, he picked up Sam from the backseat and helped Dean out of the car. Sarah followed him and by unspoken agreement, they left all three boys sleeping on John’s bed. He led them back to the front room of the suite that he had booked for a week, pulling the door behind him. For a moment, he couldn’t move after he shut the door. His heartbeat was thundering in his chest.
Sarah made the first move, crossing over to him, and reaching up to place a hand on his chest. Her fingers shook with each of his heartbeats. “I haven’t been with anyone since Kyle,” she said, straightforwardly.
John shook his head. “Me neither, since Mary.”
“Are you sure…?” She began, but John suddenly found his ability to move and he reached out to gently tilt her face up. Her breath caught in her throat, but she didn’t pull away and he kissed her.
It wasn’t like kissing Mary, but it didn’t feel wrong and he relaxed into it. Sarah’s hand slowly climbed up from his chest to circle his neck and John coaxed her mouth open so that he could deepen the kiss. She shuddered against him and he wrapped his arms around her.
This time she didn’t jab a fist into his chest and when she groaned into his mouth, John felt his whole body tighten. Breaking the kiss, he smiled against her mouth. “Thank you for not hitting me this time.”
She laughed and it was a genuine and honest sound and suddenly, John couldn’t touch enough of her. His hands roamed over her arms as he kissed her again. Sarah held his face between her hands, her fingers caressing his cheeks, brushing over the stubble of a day’s growth. She kissed him like he was breathing life into her and he responded to it.
Here, in this dingy hotel room, the cares that they wore in their daily lives fell away. Their children were safe, their missions were on hold, and he was just John and she was just Sarah. She tasted like the diet soda she’d been drinking and John slowly moved his hands to her blouse. She moved with him, her fingers undoing the delicate buttons faster than his could, and then she was tugging his shirt free from his jeans.
Her hands on his bare skin made him gasp and break the kiss. Tugging his shirt over his head, he stopped to really look at her and he released a slow breath. She was beautiful, taut and toned. If she had more scars on her body than he was expecting, he couldn’t say anything. His own torso was covered with the hard lessons that his early hunting trips had taught him. Slowly, she reached out and traced her hand over the scar that ran over his rib cage. He’d gotten that from a tree demon, but he didn’t tell her that any more than he asked where she’d gotten the scar on her left arm.
When their eyes met again, there were no questions in them, just silent understanding and camaraderie. This time, when they came together, they didn’t move apart again. Jeans and undergarments fell to the floor in a rush, and John lowered her down to the floor, on top of one of Sam’s blankets. She gasped when he pushed inside her, her nails raking down his shoulders and he shuddered, fighting for control.
Once she began to move under him, he gave up all pretense of control and moved with her, until she was crying out. He buried his face in her neck, breathing the scent of her hair, and when he came, he let out a single sob. Her arms tightened around him and together, they floated in mindless contentment until she shifted under his weight and he rolled to the side.
They lay together, side by side, their fingers intertwined like teenagers, speaking of meaningless nothings until the light of dawn started shining in through the window. Finally, Sarah rolled over and pressed a kiss to his mouth.
“Thank you.”
She wasn’t thanking him for the sex, he knew, and she wasn’t thanking him for the ride or dinner the night before. For just a little while, the weight of the world had lifted off both of their shoulders and they had remembered what it was like to just feel normal.
She gathered her clothes and got dressed silently before going to fetch little John from the other room. He let her out of the room, shutting the door after her and knowing that he would never see her again.
“Thank you,” he offered to the empty room. Then he went to catch a few hours of sleep before his sons woke up and he had to start all over again.
Fandom: Terminator: Sarah Connor Chronicles/Supernatural
Prompt: Written as a response to the graphic below. The graphic and the quote on the graphic are the result of the talents of
billybee_honey.Warnings: Pre-series for both shows. Some sexual content.
Rating: Adult
Summary: No one can carry the weight of the world all the time.
Disclaimer: Neither of these fandoms are mine.
A/N: Written for the crossover challenge at
sccxovers. Many thanks to dramady for the beta.As always, feedback is welcome and appreciated.
*************
John Winchester recognized the look in the brunette woman’s eyes the moment he saw her. She was running. There were signs – nervous glances over the shoulder, suspicious looks at everyone she encountered, shadows crawling through the eyes that promised horrible memories just behind them.
She was definitely running, but she wasn’t broken – not this one. Her hand never strayed far from her side and John would have bet his life that he’d find a weapon in her pocket if he had the chance to look. When their eyes met, across the diner – she with her small son, John with his two boys – John felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up.
Kindred spirit. She studied him the same way he studied her, measuring, probing, considering, evaluating. She was dangerous – but not to him, not yet anyway. Mostly, he thought she was beautiful. He had loved Mary with all his heart, but it had been two years since she’d died – two long, lonely, terrifying years with no one standing between John and the darkness but two small boys who didn’t really understand, or worse, were just starting to understand all too much.
Looking at the woman across the diner, as she sat spooning cereal into the baby’s mouth, John suspected he’d found someone who did understand. She glanced up and met his eyes suddenly. He nodded respectfully and was rewarded with the slightest hint of a smile.
“Dad!” An insistent voice interrupted his thoughts and made him look down to his left.
“What is it, Dean?”
“Sammy’s done with his food.” Dean pointed out. “He’s making a mess now.”
Glancing down at the toddler, John started. Sam had managed to smear the eggs that hadn’t made it to his mouth all over his face and hair, not to mention the table. “Easy there, Sammy! You’re supposed to eat the eggs, not wear them.”
Sam grinned back at him, banging his hand proudly on the table and John laughed. “At least you’re enthusiastic,” John grumbled good naturedly, making Dean giggle, as he grabbed a napkin and wrestled Sam long enough to clean him up a little bit. “I guess that’s good enough. What do you think, Dean?” John glanced over at his eldest son to see Dean make a “eh” gesture.
“I guess so.”
“You guess so?” John repeated in mock severity. “When you have jelly all over your face?”
“I do not!” Dean protested, but he was grinning, his teeth flashing white through a ring of purple. John raised an eyebrow and grabbed the same napkin he’d just finished cleaning Sam with and began rubbing it vigorously over Dean’s face, much to both boys’ delight.
When he glanced over at the brunette woman again, she was openly laughing. It made her look younger than John had originally thought she was and he was struck again by how beautiful she was. Regretfully, he pulled out his wallet and dropped some money on the table next to the check that the waitress had brought out earlier. “Come on, you two ruffians. We’ve got work to do.”
“Okay!” Dean stood up on the seat, jumping down before John could scold him and started gathering Sam’s things and shoving them haphazardly into a diaper bag that had seen better days. John unstrapped Sam from the high chair and picked him up, slinging him on one hip casually, before hoisting the diaper bag onto his shoulder and taking Dean’s hand.
John resisted the urge to look over his shoulder as he led his family to the parking lot and loaded them into the Impala. The woman was beautiful, but his priorities were right in front of him – and at the old church where he was headed next.
Tired and frustrated, John pushed open the door to the diner. Sam was crying fitfully on his shoulder, and even Dean – the good little soldier that he was – was dragging in exhaustion. An entire day wasted, unless reading the diaries of an old mad priest counted for anything and it didn’t in John’s world. He wanted answers, not mysteries that couldn’t be solved.
He led his boys to the same booth that they’d eaten breakfast in and waved over one of the bored looking waitresses to order food as quickly as he could. Once he was relatively certain that he and Dean would have hamburgers in a few minutes, he pulled out a box of animal crackers for Sam.
Eyes widening at the site of the familiar treat, Sam quieted to a few sniffles and hiccups and John gratefully gave him one of the cookies. “Dean, can you keep an eye on your brother for a minute? I’m going to run to the men’s room.”
“Sure, Daddy.” Dean answered, sounding tired enough that John had to suppress a surge of guilt.
“Thanks, buddy. We’ll go back to the hotel as soon as dinner is over, okay?”
“Okay.” Dean snagged one of the cookies from the circus box they came in and munched on it quietly.
Excusing himself, John hurried to the bathroom, meeting the eyes of the waitress who nodded that she’d keep an eye on the boys for a minute. Closing the door behind him, John took a second and released a deep breath, fighting back simultaneous feelings of rage and helplessness. He’d been so sure he’d find what he was looking for at the church – so sure it would yield some clue to the yellow eyed demon. Instead, he’d found – and read – the diaries of a man gone mad nearly fifty years before.
Slamming his hand against the wall, John cursed. Then he used the bathroom for its intended purpose, washed his hands, and went back to rejoin his family. He was so preoccupied, that he didn’t even realize that someone else was in the hallway until he almost ran her down. Automatically, he reached out to steady the woman he’d hit, his hands finding her shoulders.
He wasn’t expecting her to jab an elbow into his gut and he grunted, hands tightening spasmodically. “Oof! Hey!”
She followed the first blow with a second one, but John was ready for her this time and caught her wrist. “Wait! I’m sorry…”
“Let me go.” The warning was quiet, but something in it raised the hair on John’s neck again and he suddenly realized just who he was holding – the same woman from earlier, and she had her infant son cradled in the arm he wasn’t holding.
He let go immediately. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to run into you. I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing.”
She glared at him for a long moment, until recognition slowly dawned in her eyes. “I saw you this morning.”
“Yeah. Me and my boys are here for dinner.” John smiled sheepishly. “It must be as good as Dean claims it is.”
“What?”
“Dean’s my eldest. He says they have the best fries in Texas,” John shrugged. “That’s why we’re back again.”
“You didn’t have fries for breakfast.” The woman shifted her sleeping baby, backing up another step and John held up his hands in an attempt to soothe her.
“He had them last night at dinner. We’re staying at the hotel across the street.”
“Oh.” The woman relaxed slightly. “So are we.”
“Alone?” John asked, one eyebrow going up. “It’s not the safest place I’ve ever seen.”
The woman’s eyes changed from wary caution to steel. “We’re fine, thank you Mr….”
“John.”
“Mr. John.”
“No. Winchester.” John stopped, trying to gather his thoughts. “Why don’t I start over? I’m John Winchester.” He held out a hand and after a hesitation that was long enough he was starting to feel stupid, she took it. “My boys are Dean and Sam.”
“I’m Sarah, and this is also John.” Sarah nodded at the baby, her whole face softening as soon as she looked at her child. “Sarah Reese.”
“It’s nice to meet you.”
Suddenly, John heard Sammy start crying and he took a hasty step towards the dining room area. “Sorry, that’s Sammy.”
“No problem.” Sarah assured him as he hurried to his children, her expression thoughtful when he glanced back at her.
“Sarah,” John called her name as she came out from the restroom. The small diner had filled up with hungry travelers and there was nowhere for her to sit without a wait. He saw her hesitate for a second, before she accepted his silent invitation and slid into the booth across from him and his oldest son. The baby was still sleeping and John smiled at him. “He’s a sound sleeper.”
“Yes, he is.” Again he watched the years slip from her face when she looked at her child, joy and amazement still evident in her eyes. It brought a lump to his throat and reminded him of Mary and how she used to stare at both of their children with the same unadulterated love shining on her face. Sarah looked over at Dean, who was studying her with silent judging eyes. “I’m Sarah.”
When Dean stayed silent, John reached over and patted his leg. “Say hi, Dean.”
“Hi.” The little boy looked up at John and then back over at the woman. “I’m Dean. That’s Sammy.”
Sammy ignored Sarah completely. He was too busy stuffing his mouth with the cut up bits of hamburger and French fries that John had fixed for him.
Sarah smiled. “It’s nice to meet you.”
Dean smiled, shyly, echoing his father’s grin. “How old is he?” Dean asked, looking at the baby.
“This is John. He’s almost eight months old.”
“That’s my dad’s name!” Dean told her excitedly and Sarah laughed softly, the sound rich and melodic, even if it did seem to startle her.
“I know.”
John patted Dean’s leg again. “Why don’t we let Ms. Sarah order some dinner.”
“Okay.” Dean’s interest quickly turned back to his own food and he alternated eating and making faces at his little brother, while John and Sarah sized each other up over the table. Everything he saw convinced John that he had been right earlier. Sarah was running, but she wasn’t beaten. She was a fighter.
After a third order of burger and fries had been brought to the table, Sarah paused for a moment before John reached over the table. “Here, I’ll take him while you eat.”
For just a second, her eyes flashed a warning, but John didn’t back down and didn’t lower his hands and finally she nodded and passed him the baby. “Hey, buddy.” John smiled down at the sleeping face. “Aren’t you gonna be a looker? You take after your mama.”
The compliment made Sarah blush slightly, but she shook her head. “He looks more like his father, actually.”
“He must be proud.”
“He would be,” Sarah replied, her voice suddenly choked. “He died before John was born.”
The grief in her voice tore at John’s own wounds, barely closed and that would never fully heal and he nodded. “He would be very proud. All fathers love their sons.” He trailed off, before adding quietly. “And their son’s mothers.”
“Your wife?” Sarah asked sounding like she already knew the answer.
“Died, over a year ago.” John confirmed. “It’s just us now.”
Sarah ate her burger in silence for a moment. “It’s hard.”
“More than anyone else ever realizes.”
“How did she die?” Sarah asked, suddenly. It was only the fact that John could hear tears in her voice that made him answer.
“She was murdered.” He kept his voice even, pitched low, so that Dean didn’t look up from the napkin he was drawing on. Even so, he couldn’t keep the rage completely hidden and Sarah made a choking noise.
“So was Kyle. Protecting us.”
John swallowed, nodding. “Mary, too.”
“What was she like?”
The question surprised him and he looked up with a shaky smile. “How long do you have?”
“Long enough,” Sarah smiled, and John found himself telling her all about Mary – her smile, her laugh, the way she loved to dance in the rain, the way she always burned popcorn. By the time he finished, Sam was asleep in the high chair, and Dean was dozing against his side.
Sarah wiped away a tear. “It sounds like you loved her very much.”
“I loved her a lifetime’s worth,” John answered fiercely. He looked down at the baby he was still holding. “What about Kyle?”
“We loved each other a lifetime’s worth, too.” Sarah whispered. They looked at each other and suddenly John was desperate that their evening not end this way.
“Let me take you back to the hotel?” He asked, slowly, his eyes asking more than his words. He had never been the type to pick up a woman he’d just met, but talking about Mary illustrated how alone he really was. And Sarah, for all that she obviously wasn’t telling him, understood.
Sarah hesitated briefly, her eyes searching his. He didn’t know what she was looking for, but she must have found it because she nodded her assent. Quietly, they gathered their sleeping children, dropped some bills on the table for the waitress, and walked out the Impala. “Do you have a car?”
“We walked,” Sarah answered and John nodded, handing her the baby so that they could cross the street and drive the mile to the hotel. Once there, he picked up Sam from the backseat and helped Dean out of the car. Sarah followed him and by unspoken agreement, they left all three boys sleeping on John’s bed. He led them back to the front room of the suite that he had booked for a week, pulling the door behind him. For a moment, he couldn’t move after he shut the door. His heartbeat was thundering in his chest.
Sarah made the first move, crossing over to him, and reaching up to place a hand on his chest. Her fingers shook with each of his heartbeats. “I haven’t been with anyone since Kyle,” she said, straightforwardly.
John shook his head. “Me neither, since Mary.”
“Are you sure…?” She began, but John suddenly found his ability to move and he reached out to gently tilt her face up. Her breath caught in her throat, but she didn’t pull away and he kissed her.
It wasn’t like kissing Mary, but it didn’t feel wrong and he relaxed into it. Sarah’s hand slowly climbed up from his chest to circle his neck and John coaxed her mouth open so that he could deepen the kiss. She shuddered against him and he wrapped his arms around her.
This time she didn’t jab a fist into his chest and when she groaned into his mouth, John felt his whole body tighten. Breaking the kiss, he smiled against her mouth. “Thank you for not hitting me this time.”
She laughed and it was a genuine and honest sound and suddenly, John couldn’t touch enough of her. His hands roamed over her arms as he kissed her again. Sarah held his face between her hands, her fingers caressing his cheeks, brushing over the stubble of a day’s growth. She kissed him like he was breathing life into her and he responded to it.
Here, in this dingy hotel room, the cares that they wore in their daily lives fell away. Their children were safe, their missions were on hold, and he was just John and she was just Sarah. She tasted like the diet soda she’d been drinking and John slowly moved his hands to her blouse. She moved with him, her fingers undoing the delicate buttons faster than his could, and then she was tugging his shirt free from his jeans.
Her hands on his bare skin made him gasp and break the kiss. Tugging his shirt over his head, he stopped to really look at her and he released a slow breath. She was beautiful, taut and toned. If she had more scars on her body than he was expecting, he couldn’t say anything. His own torso was covered with the hard lessons that his early hunting trips had taught him. Slowly, she reached out and traced her hand over the scar that ran over his rib cage. He’d gotten that from a tree demon, but he didn’t tell her that any more than he asked where she’d gotten the scar on her left arm.
When their eyes met again, there were no questions in them, just silent understanding and camaraderie. This time, when they came together, they didn’t move apart again. Jeans and undergarments fell to the floor in a rush, and John lowered her down to the floor, on top of one of Sam’s blankets. She gasped when he pushed inside her, her nails raking down his shoulders and he shuddered, fighting for control.
Once she began to move under him, he gave up all pretense of control and moved with her, until she was crying out. He buried his face in her neck, breathing the scent of her hair, and when he came, he let out a single sob. Her arms tightened around him and together, they floated in mindless contentment until she shifted under his weight and he rolled to the side.
They lay together, side by side, their fingers intertwined like teenagers, speaking of meaningless nothings until the light of dawn started shining in through the window. Finally, Sarah rolled over and pressed a kiss to his mouth.
“Thank you.”
She wasn’t thanking him for the sex, he knew, and she wasn’t thanking him for the ride or dinner the night before. For just a little while, the weight of the world had lifted off both of their shoulders and they had remembered what it was like to just feel normal.
She gathered her clothes and got dressed silently before going to fetch little John from the other room. He let her out of the room, shutting the door after her and knowing that he would never see her again.
“Thank you,” he offered to the empty room. Then he went to catch a few hours of sleep before his sons woke up and he had to start all over again.
