Sin City
Sin City
Wordcount: 2309
Rating: PG for a couple cuss words
Pairing: Dean/Aralyn (OFC)
Feedback: Hell yea! I didn’t post this thing for my health.
Spoilers: AHBL...takes place after...
Disclaimer: I do not own Dean or Sam *damnit* or anything else from the Supernatural universe. I do however own Aralyn.
***
Sam had expected million watt smiles, laughs, and excitement.
He had expected pokes and jibes about his visions, poker, and craps.
He had expected lecherous grins about call girls and those fancy dancers.
He had not expected Dean to go cold and distant, showing one of his many smiles he flashed to cover what he was really feeling. Hadn’t expected the silence and an unease that filtered through the car like the wind whipping through the windows of the Impala.
What the hell was it about Vegas?
Sam glanced nervously to the side where his brother had a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel, his form framed by the gold and red desert outside the car.
Sam sighed. “Dean?”
A grunt was the only response he got.
“You umm…you okay?”
He saw Dean’s eyes flit to the side before returning to the blacktop. “I’m fine.”
“Dean…”
“I said I’m fine.”
That was Winchester Code for ‘shut the fuck up and mind your own business.’
Sam sighed again and returned his eyes to the road.
When they pulled into town and Dean drove straight to a motel like he knew where it was, Sam said nothing.
When Dean didn’t even want to go out and get drinks, flirt, gamble some, claiming that he was too tired from driving, Sam still said nothing.
But his mind was in overdrive.
Dean leaned his head against the cool orange tile of the shower stall.
Vegas. Of all the godforsaken places for Sam to pick. It had to be fucking Vegas. All those damn demons that escaped and he finds one in Vegas. And out of all fifty-two weeks in a year it had to be this one.
He let the hot water cascade down his back and ease the tension that had been building in his shoulders since Sam had told him of their destination.
He inhaled the thick steamy air and closed his eyes.
She had emerald green eyes. So deep he could have sworn she bought actual gemstones and had them implanted somehow.
Her slow grin drew him in. She was fiery, gave him a run for his money as a matter of a fact. But at the same time she had a calm shyness about her.
He could almost smell the vanilla, taste her kiss…
He forced his eyes open, as much as he didn’t want to leave the past. They focused in on his ever present silver ring and then blurred again.
He blamed it on the shower steam.
They walked down one of many of Vegas’ shop lined streets, intent on getting some beer after victoriously sending that black eyed bitch back to hell.
Sam was almost three feet ahead of Dean before he realized he had stopped.
“Dean?”
“Nothing fancy, god knows we don’t need it.”
The corner of his mouth tugged down into half a frown. Jewelry and Dean didn’t mix. Hell, the only piece he wore was his necklace that his father had given him.
“How ‘bout those?” she asked, pointing out a couple simple silver bands.
He shrugged, “Fine by me.”
When Dean didn’t answer Sam glanced over at the window where he was staring. Jewelry? What the hell?
“Dean,” he tried a little more forcefully, trying to add a slight edge of command, order, to his tone that every Winchester was bred and raised to respond to.
“Hmm?” Dean asked, turning to look at him.
Sam threw out his arm in a half shrug, eyebrows disappearing under his bangs.
“You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Dean said, storming his way past Sam, “Come on, I need a drink,” he mumbled.
Dean laid in bed, the red and blue neon lights outside giving him just enough light to see by. He sighed, and held up his right hand, spinning his small silver band.
The corner of his mouth twitched, as he slowly slid the ring off, sliding it just as smoothly onto his left hand, where he stared at it and spun it a couple times before sighing again and returning the cold metal to his right hand, turning over and surrendering to sleep.
He never sensed Sam’s eyes on him, watching his every move, brow furrowed in confusion.
Dean shuffled his way into the small diner and dropped unceremoniously into a booth, not even checking to see if Sam had followed, which of course he had.
The waitress slid into view on roller skates. “What can I get you guys?”
“Coffee. Black,” Dean said, not even bothering to flirt with the girl.
Sam eyed him cautiously, looking over the small menu and ordering a plate of eggs and bacon.
“And add some hash browns,” he added, as the waitress started to leave. He had a feeling Dean would steal something.
She nodded with a smile and rolled off.
Dean watched her go and then his eyes went wide.
He watched her from his booth, sipping on his sweating bottle of beer. When she returned to the bar from dropping a quarter in the jukebox she turned her head, her soft brown hair falling over her shoulder, and winked at him, turning back to the bar.
Dean smiled and got up.
Sam waved a hand in front of his face and panic shot through his system like an electric jolt when Dean still stared straight ahead.
He turned in his seat, craning his neck, trying to see what had caught Dean’s attention.
There was one lone girl sitting at the stainless steel bar, cup of coffee and plate of toast and eggs in front of her.
As if she seemed to sense the eyes staring at her, she turned her head, her hair falling over her shoulder.
Sam froze when her eyes went as wide as his brothers.
Before he could even turn back to look at Dean both his brother and the mysterious woman had slid off their respective seats and were headed towards each other.
“Ari…” Dean whispered, grabbing her into a bruising hug.
“God, Dean,” she whispered into his shoulder.
He buried his face in her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of vanilla before pulling back and grabbing her face in his hands, kissing her solidly.
“God I’ve missed you,” she whispered, her forehead resting against his.
“Me too,” he said softly, opening his eyes to grin at her. “Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet,” he smiled, taking her hand.
“Ari this is Sam, Sam this is Aralyn…your sister-in-law.”
If Dean had thought Sam’s face had been comical before it was downright hysterical now.
“Dude, snap out of it, your face is gonna stay frozen like that.”
Sam shut his jaw with a click and shook her hand awkwardly.
He was still stumbling for words, any word, as they slid into the booth across him.
They glanced at each other and grinned.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said with a smile.
Sam shot a glare in Dean’s direction, “Great, so you think I’m an ass…”
“No, it was all good.”
Dean dropped his gaze, glancing at Sam once, with a look Sam would have been more comfortable seeing a child give, face painted with love and endearment, before going back to his coffee.
Sam shook himself.
“But…when…”
Dean cleared his throat and wrapped his hands around his coffee, staring at the black liquid a moment before looking back up. “Couple months after you left,” he said quietly.
That snapped Sam out of his stupor…at least partially.
“Where…” he mumbled, barely audible.
“Here, actually, in Vegas,” Aralyn said with a smile.
Sam grinned and looked over at Dean, “Please god, tell me you didn’t get married by Elvis.”
Dean laughed, “No.”
“He was booked that night,” Ari smiled.
Sam shook his head and laughed. Then he stopped and looked at Dean. “The ring…”
If Dean caught on that Sam had seen his little bout of reminiscing last night he didn’t let on, he just caught Ari’s eye and at the same time they slid their matching silver bands off their right hands and onto their left.
Sam watched the movement and stared at the glinting metal, as if still confused.
“It’s a hell of a lot easier to lie your ass off and…flirt if need be, when it’s on the other hand,” she smiled, waving her fingers in the air.
“Wait…you’re a hunter?”
She nodded, “Yup, how I met him,” she said, throwing her thumb towards Dean. “There was a poltergeist in one of the dance halls around here; we ended up running into each other.”
Sam smiled as the waitress rolled by, sliding his plate to him. He said thanks as she topped off his coffee before downing most of the mug in one go.
“Wait…did…did Dad know?”
Dean’s eyes once again dropped. “No.”
Ari looked over sadly, placing her hand on Dean’s knee. “I heard,” she whispered.
Dean gave her a smirk that took way too much effort and nodded, sipping his coffee.
“Is that why you’re here? The demon?” Sam asked.
“Demon?” she asked, confusion on her face. “There’s a demon here?”
“Well…no, we exorcised it last night but…”
“Why are you here?” Dean asked.
She turned back to look at him. “Don’t make me smack you.”
“What?” Sam asked.
Her eyes slid to Sam before returning to Dean.
“I always come this week…every year,” she said softly.
Sam glanced over at Dean.
“Don’t tell me you forgot…”
“Of course not,” he said, lacing his fingers in hers under the table. “I just…didn’t know you came back.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” she grinned.
He rolled his eyes and looked at Sam. “Anniversary,” was all he said.
“Dude! That’s why you’ve been acting all weird? Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
Dean shrugged, a slight smile tugging at his lips, “Didn’t come up.”
“Didn’t come up?! Dude, ‘Hey Sam, I never told you but I’m married, this weeks my anniversary, and oh yea, you’re dragging my ass to Vegas where I got married so don’t freak out if I act a lil crazy.’” Sam mocked.
“Dude, I do not act crazy!”
Ari rolled her eyes.
“Anyways,” Dean laughed, nudging her with his shoulder. “You still got that car?”
She grinned, “Hell yea, you should see him, got a new paint job,” she winked. The 1970 Monte Carlo was her pride and joy.
“Oh yea? What? Hot pink?”
She slapped his chest and Sam snorted back his laughter.
“Black, you bastard.”
His eyebrow arched.
“I had to,” she winked.
“Great…” Sam chimed in, “Now we got two Batmobiles.”
They all laughed.
“Think he’ll be okay?”
“He’ll be fine Dean. I think it’s just a bit of a shock that his older brother’s married,” she said with a soft laugh.
“Think he’ll be okay with me tagging along?”
“He’ll have to be.”
“Robin will just have to get used to Batgirl huh?” she smiled.
Dean’s chest rumbled with a deep chuckle as he placed a soft kiss on the back of her neck in the darkness.
“I’ve missed you baby,” he whispered.
“Me too Dean,” she said, turning over in his embrace. “I tried to find you…”
He sighed and looked down. “Yea, things went…haywire. Shit was so crazy…I looked for you too…when I could.”
“I heard…about your Dad,” she said cautiously. “And Sam.”
Dean looked back up. “How much?”
“That your Dad went missing, you got Sam…his girlfriend died,” she said softly. “Heard about Sam’s…power. About the Demon, the…the deal, your Dad made.”
Dean pulled his arms away from her and rolled onto his back.
“Dean…”
He sighed.
“Like you wouldn’t do the same damn thing.”
“I did,” he whispered after a pause.
“What?” she asked, unwilling to admit her voice just broke over the one word.
“The Demon got Sam. He was dead Ari.”
“Oh god…”
He sighed again.
“But…I heard you killed the son of a bitch!”
“We did…after.”
“Goddamnit Dean,” she huffed, sitting up, the cheap motel sheets pooling around her waist.
He sighed and sat up, leaning against the stuffed headboard.
“How long?” she whispered.
There was a pause again. “One year.”
His hand reached out for her when she buried her face in her hands.
“Ari…”
She turned back to him. “I just got you back…I can’t lose you….I won’t,” she said forcefully, in a tone he knew meant business.
“I’ll do whatever I have to, we’re gonna beat this.”
He smirked, “That’s what Sam said.”
“Good, so I got backup.”
Dean smiled.
“I’m serious Dean, if I have to take on Lucifer himself I’m gonna get you out of this.”
“We’re not going to play revolving door with the Winchester souls,” he said sternly.
“No…but I’ll do what I have to.”
Sam had just taken a shower before they were going to hit the road. He had a towel slung low on his hips and wrapped another one around his neck as he opened the bathroom door.
A bucket full of cold water hit him in his face from somewhere to his right before a full pack of flour hit him from his left.
He stood blinded in the bathroom doorway, barely registering the hysterical laughter and Ari yelling “To the Batmobile!” before the hotel room door slammed shut and he heard the Impala squeal out of the parking lot.
He reached up and wiped the powdery cake from one of his eyes, cracking it open.
“You’re gonna regret that,” he said softly, before turning back towards the shower.
“Prank War 2007!” Ari beamed, giving Dean a high five as they sped towards the casinos.
“How long before he comes after us?”
Dean glanced at the radio clock in the Impala, “I give him, oh, five, ten minutes to get that crap outta his girly hair, then he’ll grab your keys,” he said with a grin.
Ari just smiled back.
Wordcount: 2309
Rating: PG for a couple cuss words
Pairing: Dean/Aralyn (OFC)
Feedback: Hell yea! I didn’t post this thing for my health.
Spoilers: AHBL...takes place after...
Disclaimer: I do not own Dean or Sam *damnit* or anything else from the Supernatural universe. I do however own Aralyn.
***
Sam had expected million watt smiles, laughs, and excitement.
He had expected pokes and jibes about his visions, poker, and craps.
He had expected lecherous grins about call girls and those fancy dancers.
He had not expected Dean to go cold and distant, showing one of his many smiles he flashed to cover what he was really feeling. Hadn’t expected the silence and an unease that filtered through the car like the wind whipping through the windows of the Impala.
What the hell was it about Vegas?
Sam glanced nervously to the side where his brother had a white knuckle grip on the steering wheel, his form framed by the gold and red desert outside the car.
Sam sighed. “Dean?”
A grunt was the only response he got.
“You umm…you okay?”
He saw Dean’s eyes flit to the side before returning to the blacktop. “I’m fine.”
“Dean…”
“I said I’m fine.”
That was Winchester Code for ‘shut the fuck up and mind your own business.’
Sam sighed again and returned his eyes to the road.
When they pulled into town and Dean drove straight to a motel like he knew where it was, Sam said nothing.
When Dean didn’t even want to go out and get drinks, flirt, gamble some, claiming that he was too tired from driving, Sam still said nothing.
But his mind was in overdrive.
Dean leaned his head against the cool orange tile of the shower stall.
Vegas. Of all the godforsaken places for Sam to pick. It had to be fucking Vegas. All those damn demons that escaped and he finds one in Vegas. And out of all fifty-two weeks in a year it had to be this one.
He let the hot water cascade down his back and ease the tension that had been building in his shoulders since Sam had told him of their destination.
He inhaled the thick steamy air and closed his eyes.
She had emerald green eyes. So deep he could have sworn she bought actual gemstones and had them implanted somehow.
Her slow grin drew him in. She was fiery, gave him a run for his money as a matter of a fact. But at the same time she had a calm shyness about her.
He could almost smell the vanilla, taste her kiss…
He forced his eyes open, as much as he didn’t want to leave the past. They focused in on his ever present silver ring and then blurred again.
He blamed it on the shower steam.
They walked down one of many of Vegas’ shop lined streets, intent on getting some beer after victoriously sending that black eyed bitch back to hell.
Sam was almost three feet ahead of Dean before he realized he had stopped.
“Dean?”
“Nothing fancy, god knows we don’t need it.”
The corner of his mouth tugged down into half a frown. Jewelry and Dean didn’t mix. Hell, the only piece he wore was his necklace that his father had given him.
“How ‘bout those?” she asked, pointing out a couple simple silver bands.
He shrugged, “Fine by me.”
When Dean didn’t answer Sam glanced over at the window where he was staring. Jewelry? What the hell?
“Dean,” he tried a little more forcefully, trying to add a slight edge of command, order, to his tone that every Winchester was bred and raised to respond to.
“Hmm?” Dean asked, turning to look at him.
Sam threw out his arm in a half shrug, eyebrows disappearing under his bangs.
“You alright?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” Dean said, storming his way past Sam, “Come on, I need a drink,” he mumbled.
Dean laid in bed, the red and blue neon lights outside giving him just enough light to see by. He sighed, and held up his right hand, spinning his small silver band.
The corner of his mouth twitched, as he slowly slid the ring off, sliding it just as smoothly onto his left hand, where he stared at it and spun it a couple times before sighing again and returning the cold metal to his right hand, turning over and surrendering to sleep.
He never sensed Sam’s eyes on him, watching his every move, brow furrowed in confusion.
Dean shuffled his way into the small diner and dropped unceremoniously into a booth, not even checking to see if Sam had followed, which of course he had.
The waitress slid into view on roller skates. “What can I get you guys?”
“Coffee. Black,” Dean said, not even bothering to flirt with the girl.
Sam eyed him cautiously, looking over the small menu and ordering a plate of eggs and bacon.
“And add some hash browns,” he added, as the waitress started to leave. He had a feeling Dean would steal something.
She nodded with a smile and rolled off.
Dean watched her go and then his eyes went wide.
He watched her from his booth, sipping on his sweating bottle of beer. When she returned to the bar from dropping a quarter in the jukebox she turned her head, her soft brown hair falling over her shoulder, and winked at him, turning back to the bar.
Dean smiled and got up.
Sam waved a hand in front of his face and panic shot through his system like an electric jolt when Dean still stared straight ahead.
He turned in his seat, craning his neck, trying to see what had caught Dean’s attention.
There was one lone girl sitting at the stainless steel bar, cup of coffee and plate of toast and eggs in front of her.
As if she seemed to sense the eyes staring at her, she turned her head, her hair falling over her shoulder.
Sam froze when her eyes went as wide as his brothers.
Before he could even turn back to look at Dean both his brother and the mysterious woman had slid off their respective seats and were headed towards each other.
“Ari…” Dean whispered, grabbing her into a bruising hug.
“God, Dean,” she whispered into his shoulder.
He buried his face in her neck, inhaling the sweet scent of vanilla before pulling back and grabbing her face in his hands, kissing her solidly.
“God I’ve missed you,” she whispered, her forehead resting against his.
“Me too,” he said softly, opening his eyes to grin at her. “Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet,” he smiled, taking her hand.
“Ari this is Sam, Sam this is Aralyn…your sister-in-law.”
If Dean had thought Sam’s face had been comical before it was downright hysterical now.
“Dude, snap out of it, your face is gonna stay frozen like that.”
Sam shut his jaw with a click and shook her hand awkwardly.
He was still stumbling for words, any word, as they slid into the booth across him.
They glanced at each other and grinned.
“I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said with a smile.
Sam shot a glare in Dean’s direction, “Great, so you think I’m an ass…”
“No, it was all good.”
Dean dropped his gaze, glancing at Sam once, with a look Sam would have been more comfortable seeing a child give, face painted with love and endearment, before going back to his coffee.
Sam shook himself.
“But…when…”
Dean cleared his throat and wrapped his hands around his coffee, staring at the black liquid a moment before looking back up. “Couple months after you left,” he said quietly.
That snapped Sam out of his stupor…at least partially.
“Where…” he mumbled, barely audible.
“Here, actually, in Vegas,” Aralyn said with a smile.
Sam grinned and looked over at Dean, “Please god, tell me you didn’t get married by Elvis.”
Dean laughed, “No.”
“He was booked that night,” Ari smiled.
Sam shook his head and laughed. Then he stopped and looked at Dean. “The ring…”
If Dean caught on that Sam had seen his little bout of reminiscing last night he didn’t let on, he just caught Ari’s eye and at the same time they slid their matching silver bands off their right hands and onto their left.
Sam watched the movement and stared at the glinting metal, as if still confused.
“It’s a hell of a lot easier to lie your ass off and…flirt if need be, when it’s on the other hand,” she smiled, waving her fingers in the air.
“Wait…you’re a hunter?”
She nodded, “Yup, how I met him,” she said, throwing her thumb towards Dean. “There was a poltergeist in one of the dance halls around here; we ended up running into each other.”
Sam smiled as the waitress rolled by, sliding his plate to him. He said thanks as she topped off his coffee before downing most of the mug in one go.
“Wait…did…did Dad know?”
Dean’s eyes once again dropped. “No.”
Ari looked over sadly, placing her hand on Dean’s knee. “I heard,” she whispered.
Dean gave her a smirk that took way too much effort and nodded, sipping his coffee.
“Is that why you’re here? The demon?” Sam asked.
“Demon?” she asked, confusion on her face. “There’s a demon here?”
“Well…no, we exorcised it last night but…”
“Why are you here?” Dean asked.
She turned back to look at him. “Don’t make me smack you.”
“What?” Sam asked.
Her eyes slid to Sam before returning to Dean.
“I always come this week…every year,” she said softly.
Sam glanced over at Dean.
“Don’t tell me you forgot…”
“Of course not,” he said, lacing his fingers in hers under the table. “I just…didn’t know you came back.”
“Why wouldn’t I?” she grinned.
He rolled his eyes and looked at Sam. “Anniversary,” was all he said.
“Dude! That’s why you’ve been acting all weird? Why the hell didn’t you tell me?”
Dean shrugged, a slight smile tugging at his lips, “Didn’t come up.”
“Didn’t come up?! Dude, ‘Hey Sam, I never told you but I’m married, this weeks my anniversary, and oh yea, you’re dragging my ass to Vegas where I got married so don’t freak out if I act a lil crazy.’” Sam mocked.
“Dude, I do not act crazy!”
Ari rolled her eyes.
“Anyways,” Dean laughed, nudging her with his shoulder. “You still got that car?”
She grinned, “Hell yea, you should see him, got a new paint job,” she winked. The 1970 Monte Carlo was her pride and joy.
“Oh yea? What? Hot pink?”
She slapped his chest and Sam snorted back his laughter.
“Black, you bastard.”
His eyebrow arched.
“I had to,” she winked.
“Great…” Sam chimed in, “Now we got two Batmobiles.”
They all laughed.
“Think he’ll be okay?”
“He’ll be fine Dean. I think it’s just a bit of a shock that his older brother’s married,” she said with a soft laugh.
“Think he’ll be okay with me tagging along?”
“He’ll have to be.”
“Robin will just have to get used to Batgirl huh?” she smiled.
Dean’s chest rumbled with a deep chuckle as he placed a soft kiss on the back of her neck in the darkness.
“I’ve missed you baby,” he whispered.
“Me too Dean,” she said, turning over in his embrace. “I tried to find you…”
He sighed and looked down. “Yea, things went…haywire. Shit was so crazy…I looked for you too…when I could.”
“I heard…about your Dad,” she said cautiously. “And Sam.”
Dean looked back up. “How much?”
“That your Dad went missing, you got Sam…his girlfriend died,” she said softly. “Heard about Sam’s…power. About the Demon, the…the deal, your Dad made.”
Dean pulled his arms away from her and rolled onto his back.
“Dean…”
He sighed.
“Like you wouldn’t do the same damn thing.”
“I did,” he whispered after a pause.
“What?” she asked, unwilling to admit her voice just broke over the one word.
“The Demon got Sam. He was dead Ari.”
“Oh god…”
He sighed again.
“But…I heard you killed the son of a bitch!”
“We did…after.”
“Goddamnit Dean,” she huffed, sitting up, the cheap motel sheets pooling around her waist.
He sighed and sat up, leaning against the stuffed headboard.
“How long?” she whispered.
There was a pause again. “One year.”
His hand reached out for her when she buried her face in her hands.
“Ari…”
She turned back to him. “I just got you back…I can’t lose you….I won’t,” she said forcefully, in a tone he knew meant business.
“I’ll do whatever I have to, we’re gonna beat this.”
He smirked, “That’s what Sam said.”
“Good, so I got backup.”
Dean smiled.
“I’m serious Dean, if I have to take on Lucifer himself I’m gonna get you out of this.”
“We’re not going to play revolving door with the Winchester souls,” he said sternly.
“No…but I’ll do what I have to.”
Sam had just taken a shower before they were going to hit the road. He had a towel slung low on his hips and wrapped another one around his neck as he opened the bathroom door.
A bucket full of cold water hit him in his face from somewhere to his right before a full pack of flour hit him from his left.
He stood blinded in the bathroom doorway, barely registering the hysterical laughter and Ari yelling “To the Batmobile!” before the hotel room door slammed shut and he heard the Impala squeal out of the parking lot.
He reached up and wiped the powdery cake from one of his eyes, cracking it open.
“You’re gonna regret that,” he said softly, before turning back towards the shower.
“Prank War 2007!” Ari beamed, giving Dean a high five as they sped towards the casinos.
“How long before he comes after us?”
Dean glanced at the radio clock in the Impala, “I give him, oh, five, ten minutes to get that crap outta his girly hair, then he’ll grab your keys,” he said with a grin.
Ari just smiled back.