Take it to the Limit

May 06, 2007 21:28

Take it to the Limit

Wordcount: 4425
Rating: PG13
Pairing: Dean/Macy (OFC)
Feedback: Hell yea! I didn’t post this thing for my health.
Disclaimer: I do not own Dean or Sam *damnit* or anything else from the Supernatural universe. Nor do I own the song that makes an appearance (Take it to the Limit by The Eagles). I do however own Macy and her world.
Author's Note: Hopefully it's not too confusing. It starts out the night Sam left for Stanford (PREseries)...and then theres a time jump later that picks up somewhere after Heart...oh, p.s., Cassie doesnt exist in my world *grin*

Download : Take it to the Limit - The Eagles

The barroom smoke was the only reason his eyes were watering.

At least, that’s what Dean wanted to believe.

It had nothing to do with the knock down, drag out fight he had just broken up between his father and Sam. Had nothing to do with Sammy’s storming out, hell bent on hitch-hiking his ass to California. Had nothing to do with the fact his already barely there family had just been shredded to pieces.

No, it was just the smoke.

He made his way easily to the bar. One good thing about a small town like this, the tavern was never packed.

He slid wearily onto the cracked vinyl barstool and scrubbed his palm over his two-day stubble, he looked up just in time to see the bartender walk over to him with a friendly smile and ask what his poison was.

Any other day, he’d hit on her so fast she’d spin, she was exactly his type. Long gorgeous brown hair, blue eyes that seemed deeper than the sky, curves in all the right places.

But today was just not the day.

“Jack, straight.”

She smiled a sad smile, seeming to read him in an instant.

“Sure thing sweetheart,” she said softly, filling up a glass for him before walking away and leaving him to his misery.



A couple hours later he was pulled from his personal pity party when the bartender reappeared, dragging a barstool over to sit across the counter from him and pulling a fresh bottle of Jack Daniel’s from underneath.

He looked at her quizzically as she broke the seal and opened the bottle, before refilling his glass as well of one for herself.

She toasted him in silence and drank from her glass.

He hesitated a moment before following suit.

Only then did he realize that the bar was all but empty and he felt awkward, wondering if this was her way of telling him it was closing time.

“I’m Macy.”

His head whipped back around from his glance around the bar and his vision swirled from the movement.

“Hi.”

She smirked. “Do you have a name?” she asked with a smile.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry…Dean.”

“Hi Dean.”

He felt himself grinning before he remembered why he was at the bar in the first place and he scowled, staring at the bottom of his almost empty glass.

She smiled again and filled it up once more.

“So…you don’t really seem like the type…but uh, you wanna talk?”

He stared at her.

Her eyebrow quirked. “You know, that thing where your mouth moves, vocal chords vibrate…”

He grinned again. “Sorry…not much of the sharing and caring type.”

She smiled again, “I know.”

“What?”

“I’m a bartender. I kinda got a way with reading people.”

“Is that right?” he said sarcastically.

“Yup,” she said, face still plastered with a smile that was starting to annoy the hell out of Dean because he found himself grinning back like an idiot.

“Oh yea? Read me.”

“Well…pain, obviously. You’re a tough guy. Probably takes too much on his shoulders, thinks everyone depends on him. But, it’s just a cover. Hence why you’re in my bar. You needed to get away. And this is the way you can do it without letting that mask slip,” she stated, her eyes taking in his form.

Wow…she could read people.

He cleared his throat and went back to his drink.

“Your bar?” he asked, not to subtly changing the subject.

“Yup, I inherited it from my daddy.”

He nodded, glancing around again. “It’s nice.”

“Thanks.”

“Guess it’s about closing time huh?”

She nodded and polished off her own glass of whiskey. “Naw babe, I live here,” she said, pointing up a flight of stairs he just now noticed, “You can stick around.”

He felt heat flush his face and tried to tell himself it was the alcohol.

“Relax hun, I can tell you don’t want to go home. You can stay. I got a lot of cleaning and shit to do anyways.”

“Thanks,” he rumbled.

“No problem sweetie,” she said, refilling his glass. “But I’m cutting you off,” she winked, replacing the bottle on its mirror-backed rack.

He grinned and nodded.



Another hour later and he was sweeping the floor for her, absentmindedly humming along with the song that was playing softly from the jukebox.

She sighed and collapsed on a stool as he finished.

He glanced at his watch and almost winced when he realized it was three in the morning.

“You always up this late?”

“Oh yea.”

“Damn,” he laughed, realizing that since she had started talking to him his mind had wandered away from his Dad and Sam and he had actually gotten some relief.

He smiled and sat down on the stool next to her.

“I think you’re the first person I’ve voluntarily cleaned for.”

She laughed and he found himself grinning wide.

“If you want…” she said hesitantly. “I have a pretty comfortable couch upstairs.”

He looked at her in surprise.

“Gimme a break, I can tell you still don’t want to go home.”

He sniffed and looked down at his hands.

“Come on,” she said placing her hand on his knee for a moment before making her way up the stairs to her apartment.

He followed her without thinking.



When Dean cracked his eyes open, panic sliced through him before he remembered where he was.

It took another minute of being conscious before he realized he smelled food.

He threw off a cozy blanket he didn’t remember having when he went to bed, and sat up stiffly, cracking his neck and back before making his way to the kitchen.

“Hey,” he rasped, voice rough from sleep.

“Hey, you’re up,” Macy replied sweetly, looking over her shoulder before returning to something sizzling on the stove.

“Have a seat hun. I’m making breakfast.”

Dean glanced around the small kitchen, jokingly wondering if the bar was some portal to the Twilight Zone before hesitantly sitting down at the counter.

A couple more minutes and a plate of steaming eggs and bacon were slid in front of him. A plate of pancakes and a glass of milk appeared a moment later.

He was still staring at his plate in confusion when she sat down across from him.

“Don’t tell me you have a queasy stomach. I didn’t peg you as the type to not be able to hold your liquor.”

“What?” he looked up in surprise. “Oh, no I just, no, I…I don’t get a lot of home cooked food,” he said quietly.

She smirked and handed him a bottle of maple syrup before starting in on her own meal.



He allowed her to absorb him into her daily routines. Relishing in the fact that whatever it was, was keeping his mind off his family. He knew he’d have to go back sooner or later. He was half surprised his father hadn’t called already. But the more he helped and hung out with Macy the more he found himself smiling and actually enjoying himself.

Which he hadn’t done in a long time.

They had broken the ice over breakfast, her easy demeanor and friendly smile drawing him in like a moth to a flame and making him open up and talk.

By the time the bar opened in the afternoon she had heard the whole story about Sam and the fight and an, albeit vague, background on the Winchesters.

Dean got a call from his dad not long after nightfall. After assuring him he was still in town and safe and sound an obviously drunk John had told him to keep his phone on incase he needed him but other than that left Dean to himself.

Dean was sure there would be no hunting at least for a week. John had beat himself up pretty bad after Sam had stormed out and he would probably be spending some quality time with the bottle in the upcoming days.

Closing time rolled around and Dean found himself awkwardly hanging around.

“The door’s unlocked if you wanna head on up,” Macy offered, wiping down the counter.

Dean stood shocked for a moment. Incredibly grateful for whatever heart beat in this woman, causing her to open her home to him.

“Feel free to use my shower.”

He swallowed hard and nodded, before making his way up the steps.



Another week passed by. An unspoken agreement that Dean was Macy’s new roommate…at least for the time being.

Dean was surprised just how good they got along. He had never really tried to form a friendship with a woman. Hell, anyone for that matter. But the only relationships with the opposite sex he was use to were hot and fast encounters. And here he found himself oddly drawn to this girl. Half afraid of the fact that he considered her a friend.

Not to mention he had this new pull in the pit of his stomach. The kind he knew of but had never quite felt this strong before.

When the cleaning was just about done and the next song clicked into place on the jukebox, The Eagles singing slowly, Dean found himself doing something he had never done before.

He came up behind Macy, taking the broom from her hands and earning an inquisitive look.

Next thing he knew his arms were wrapped around her small waist, her own looped around his neck and her fingers twined in his hair and they were swaying to the music.

All alone at the end of the evening
And the bright lights have faded to blue
I was thinking ‘bout a woman who might have
Loved me and I never knew…

He felt her sigh against him and found his arms tightening around her, a warmth spreading through him at the way she nuzzled into his shoulder.

He turned his head, his lips grazing against her neck before his tongue slipped out hesitantly, tasting the salty sweat and hint of smoke.

She moaned quietly before turning her own head and capturing his lips in a soft kiss.

So put me on the highway
And show me a sign
And take it to the limit, one more time…



He crawled over her as she backed herself onto the bed.

He broke their kiss, heat consuming him and he looked away, embarrassed because he was actually trembling.

Her small hands cupped his face as she rained soft kissed over his eyes, nose, cheeks and lips.

“Relax babe, I’ve got you,” she whispered.

Dean, for maybe the first time in his life, let go of the hold he had, offering her the reins willingly, giving up all control.

She rolled him over, kissing him softly as their clothes were slowly disappearing.

His eyes were closed, head back when she kissed his lips softly, smiling when his eyes cracked open.

His palm cupped her cheek, callused fingers threading through her hair and pulling her into a kiss.

He rolled her onto her back and made his way down her neck, her soft hands always in contact with his bare skin.

His lips wrapped around her nipple and his whole body shuddered when his name came from her lips like a prayer.

Kissing her again, letting himself drown in everything her, his hand slipped down to trace her soft folds.

She arched into the contact, shivering under him.

He watched her face as he teased her entrance, before slipping a finger into her waiting body.

She keened low in her throat and he felt himself grow even harder.

He didn’t know what kind of a spell this girl had cast over him but whatever it was he was okay with it. She had managed to hold him together without even trying when his whole world had crashed down around him.

Even now he found himself shaking like a nervous school boy but her whispers and pleas were somehow washing away every feeling except the need to be in her.

With her.

His lips came down tenderly on hers as he eased himself into her.

They made love the whole night, nuzzling, kissing and cuddling in between rounds and Dean felt the warmth and, dare he say it, love that washed over him from just being held in her arms.



The next week John had went on a hunt solo and Dean felt himself being drawn more and more into Macy’s warmth.

Waking up in the morning with her wrapped securely in his arms. Spending the day laughing and talking over drinks and cleaning up and dancing alone when the lights turned off. Loving each other like no one else existed when they had finally made it up the stairs.

It wasn’t until his dad had called and told him he needed his help did Dean realize how much he was torturing himself.

He could never have this.



“What’s wrong babe?” Macy asked hesitantly, watching him as he climbed into bed.

He sighed and pulled her into him, kissing her slowly.

He rested his forehead against hers when they broke and sighed again.

“Dean, you’re scaring me,” she whispered.

He cursed the way his eyes watered when he looked at her.

“I have to leave.”

“What?”

“My dad called…he uh, he needs my help Mace.”

“Is he okay?”

“Yea, he’s fine, he just uh…our job, he needs me there.”

Dean had always been vague and noncommittal when it had come to anything regarding his ‘job’ and family. But Macy had accepted it.

If that’s what it took to have him in her life. Than so be it.

Which is part of the reason why it was killing Dean so much now.

She had never pushed, let him have his space where he needed it and now it was all coming back to hurt her.

“Mace…I told you my mom died when I was a kid…”

She nodded silently.

“It…” he sighed, scarcely believing he was actually going to tell her. “A demon killed my mother.”

He waited for her outburst. Her claims of him being insane and her rush from the bed.

But they never came.

He stared at her, surprise in his eyes.

“You believe me?” he questioned softly.

“Yea,” she whispered back. “I’ve always believed in things we can’t explain. Hell, my own bar is haunted.”

“What?” he asked in shock, his mind briefly being sidetracked.

“Some old western guy named Wayne, he’s really kinda funny. He’ll break bottles, turn chairs over every once in a while. He’s cool.”

Dean’s eyes were wide. “Cool?”

She shrugged.

He shook his head, bringing himself back from his stupor. “Anyways Mace,” his voice dropped, returning to his previous serious tone.

“My dad raised me and Sam to hunt these things. Demons, monsters, things your worst nightmares wouldn’t touch.”

“That’s why Sam left…” she said quietly.

“Yea,” Dean whispered. “But I…I have to help my dad. The thing that killed my mom is still out there. Mace…”

“You’re leaving…for good,” she added when she saw the misery in his eyes.

He swallowed hard against the sudden lump in his throat.

“I can’t put you in danger Mace. And this job...”

She sniffed past the sudden sting of tears and nodded. “I understand.”

“Macy…”

She silenced him with a soft kiss. “I understand Dean.”

“Will you ever come back?”

He shook his head and sniffed. “We go all over the country. The odds that I’ll end up here for any amount of time…” he trailed off.

She nodded again and kissed him.

His own tears mingled with hers as he made love to her that night, saying goodbye in the only way he knew how.



“I think I love you Macy Jones,” he whispered, her tear stained cheek against his chest.

She smiled against him. “I know I love you Dean Winchester.”

He sighed and held her tighter in his embrace.

“Dean?”

“Yea baby?”

“Promise me you’ll be here in the morning. You’re not going to just disappear in the night.”

“I’ll be here.”

He wasn’t good with goodbyes, but she deserved at least that much.



They made their way silently downstairs. Macy stopped just short of the bar as Dean made his way to the jukebox, dropping a quarter in the slot.

Macy’s brow furrowed until she heard his choice of songs.

You know I’ve always been a dreamer
…spent my life running ‘round…
And it’s so hard to change
…can’t seem to settle down…
But the dreams I’ve seen lately
Keep on turning out and burning out
And turning out the same…

She smiled though her tears as he held his hand out for her to take and they danced like they had that first night together.

So put me on the highway
And show me a sign
And take it to the limit, one more time…

They kissed as they cried and with one last long look Dean walked away.



~*~Years Later~*~

Dean cleaned his gun and looked over at Sam who was tapping away on his laptop.

“Where’s this gig?”

“Outside of Natchez, Mississippi,” Sam sighed.

Dean fumbled, nearly dropping the pistol onto the mattress.

Sam glanced over; noting the way Dean was suddenly clumsy and tensed.

“Dude, what?”

“Huh? Nothing. So…Natchez? Okay,” he said, gathering the weapons and heading out the door to put them back in the trunk.

Sam’s brow furrowed but he said nothing.



The entire trip south Dean was quite. Unusually so, and it had Sam worried.

When they finally made it Natchez around dusk, the air and ground was still wet from the day’s late rain.

Dean went right past their exit and Sam turned in his seat.

“Dude, you passed the turn.”

“We’re gonna stay a couple towns over.”

“What? Why?”

“Because.”

Dean didn’t offer up anymore of a conversation, popping in an Eagles tape he had but Sam couldn’t remember him ever listening to and turned up the volume.

Sam sighed and watched him from the corner of his eye.



After they settled into the motel Dean grabbed the keys, declared he was getting a drink and shut the door before Sam even had his mouth open to say he’d tag along.

Sam pulled back the curtain and waited until Dean pulled out of the parking lot before pulling on his tennis shoes and ball cap and headed off in the direction Dean headed.

Dean was acting weird. And Sam didn’t like weird. So if he had to spy on his own brother to figure out what it was…he was okay with that.



Dean sighed before finally opening his car door with a squeak and hesitantly walking in the door to the bar.

His eyes immediately went behind the bar and he let out a breath he hadn’t known he had been holding when he didn’t see her there.

His eyes went quickly around the room but she was no where to be found.

He sighed again and sat down on a stool, ordering a Jack from the man behind the counter just for old time’s sake.

Sam snuck his way in not too much later, taking a seat in a corner booth where he watched Dean drink alone. He wasn’t even trying to hit on the couple girls in the bar, something was definitely wrong.

Almost a half hour later, Dean was still trying to hide his disappointment.

Sam was half tempted to go talk to him but the next song on the jukebox clicked into place and Dean sat up straight, his eyes going wide.

All alone at the end of the evening
And the bright lights have faded to blue
I was thinking ‘bout a woman who might have
Loved me and I never knew…

He spun around in his chair just in time to see Macy’s smile come through the crowd.

He was standing on unsteady feet when she reached him, wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her face in his shoulder.

“Dean.”

He blinked back the sudden assault of tears he had and squeezed her tighter before pulling back and kissing her.

Sam’s jaw just about dropped at the emotion that seemed to be arching between the two. He had been with Dean for almost two years now and they had never even been in the state. So whatever Dean had with this girl went back longer than that.

He literally choked on his beer when Dean, Dean fucking Winchester, lead her out onto the floor to dance.

And when you’re looking for your freedom
…nobody seems to care…
And you can’t find the door
…can’t find it anywhere…
When there’s nothing to believe in
Still you’re coming back, you’re running back
You’re coming back for more…

Sam watched them. The way they swayed to the music, grazing soft kisses and holding each other close. They stayed embraced for a moment after the music stopped before they went back over to the bar.



“I can’t believe you’re here.”

“Me either,” he whispered back with a smile, pulling her close.

She kissed him again, remembering those strong hands and warm body that she had missed so much.

“God Dean,” she whispered. “I’ve missed you.”

“Me too baby,” he rumbled kissing her again.

“Are you…I mean…”

“I’m only in town for about a week,” he said softly, dropping his head.

Her soft hand cupped his chin and brought his eyes back to hers. “A week is better than nothing.”

He grinned and kissed her again.

“Babe…”

“Yea?”

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Sure…”

“Send the lanky freak in the corner a beer.”

Her brow quirked and he snorted back her laughter.

“It’s Sam. He doesn’t think I know he’s here,” he said with a grin.

Macy laughed, calling over Billy, the bartender and telling him to send Sam a beer.



Sam’s jaw dropped when the waitress plopped the longneck on his table.

“No I, I didn’t order…”

“It’s from the couple at the bar,” she smiled, heading off to her next table.

He looked up to see Dean grinning at him before turning back to his own drink and saw Macy disappear into the back.

Sam’s face flushed; embarrassed that he had been caught and tucked his tail between his legs before heading to the bar and sliding unto the seat next to Dean.

“How long have you known?”

“Since you walked in.”

Sam laughed and shook his head.

“What’s her name?” he asked after a moment of awkward silence.

“Macy,” Dean said, sipping his drink.

Sam nodded, waiting for Dean to offer more and sighing when he realized he wasn’t about to.

“When did you meet?”

Dean paused, staring into the amber liquid in his glass. “The night you left,” he said quietly.

Sam froze. “Oh.”

Dean nodded and sipped his drink.

“You seem…familiar.”

Dean’s brow arched in amusement and he turned to look at Sam.

“Yea, well, when my world crashed down she was the one standing there to help me back up.”

Okay, now Sam was speechless. Since when did Dean do deep?

“I came here, the night you left, hell bent on drinking myself into a stupor. Ended up helping her. Stayed here for a couple months before Dad called me away.”

“You love her…” Sam said quietly, more a statement to himself than a question meant for Dean.

There was another pause as Dean stared off into space. “Yea,” he sighed, “I guess I do.”

“I never thought I’d see her again.”

Sam looked over, his beer forgotten.

“Dad called me…I told her I had to leave…life went on.”

“You never came back?”

Dean laughed, “Come on Sam, like it would have been so easy to come back.”

Sam nodded.

Macy reappeared from the back, handing a case of beer to Billy before walking over and sitting across from the boys.

“Macy,” she smiled, offering her hand.

“Sam,” he said, taking it and smiling back.

“So, what brought you to town this time?”

Sam stumbled for an answer.

“Poltergeist,” Dean offered.

Sam’s head whipped around.

“She knows Sam,” Dean said, never even turning.

Macy swallowed hard, glancing between the two of them.

“You told her?” he hissed.

Dean turned, fixing him with his hard hazel eyes. “I had to leave her Sam. She deserved to know the reason why.”

Sam’s jaw clicked shut, his eyes softening into apologizes.

“Right,” he swallowed, “Sorry,” he mumbled, smiling at Macy.



By closing time it was if they had all been friends for all these years. Macy walked away to clean up and left Dean and Sam alone.

“So…you gonna stay with her?”

Dean nodded, “If that’s okay.”

Sam laughed, finishing off his beer. “How long has it been since you’ve seen her?”

Dean just looked at him.

“Relax Dean, I think I can manage to sleep in a motel by myself for one night.”

Dean smirked and nodded.

“We can stay an extra week if you want,” he offered.

Dean smiled and nodded again.

“Dean,” Sam sighed.

Dean looked over at him.

“I lost Jess…”

Dean’s eyes dropped.

“I lost Maddie…don’t make the same mistake.”

Dean’s eyes met his again.

“You love her…even I can see that. Just…don’t lose that.”

Dean swallowed hard and nodded.

Sam smiled, placing his hand on Dean’s shoulder as Macy came back by.

“Alright guys, I’m headed back to the motel,” he said, taking the keys to the Impala when Dean offered them.

“Why don’t you come back in the morning, I’ll cook breakfast for you guys.”

Sam smiled and nodded. “Sounds great, just uh, call me when you guys wake up.”

Dean nodded and watched Sam leave before meeting Macy’s eyes and smiling.



She buried her face in his chest, trying to regain her breath.

“I think I love you Macy Jones,” Dean rumbled.

She smiled, “I know I love you Dean Winchester.”



Dean called Sam as Macy started breakfast.

“Hey, yea, you can come on over. Go ahead and pick the lock and come upstairs, just relock the door behind you. Alright, bye.”

Sam appeared a few minutes later.



Sam and Dean went into the kitchen sometime around lunch to grab a couple beers.

Sam offered Dean a cold bottle and Dean paused, the bottle in both their hands.

“Thanks.”

Sam saw the double meaning and nodded with a smile.

“Hey Dean…”

“Yea?”

“You sure she’s not evil? I mean…you’ve been willingly participating in chick flick moments since we’ve been here…I think she did something to you,” he grinned.

“Shut up,” Dean said, slapping the back of Sam’s head as they headed back to the living room.

supernatural fic

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