original by spastic_visions

Oct 03, 2008 22:03

Remix Title: Someone Else's Girlfriend (the beer girl in a refrigerator remix)
Remix Author: fryadvocate
Original Story: To Cross the Universe
Original Author: spastic_visions
Rating: R
Pairings: Dean/Carmen, Carmen/OMC
Summary: Just us girls.
Warnings: none.



You are cleaning a cut in Dean's shoulder, gently, but he winces at every touch. It's inflamed and it's been open too long for stitches. The bandage looks stark against his skin.

"Ouch," he says. He pouts and you want to kiss it off his face, but you're mad at him.

"You said you'd tell me when you were going hunting," you tell him. "Since Sam isn't here to back you up anymore."

"Next time," he says, and you think he must be lying.

xxxxxxxxxx

This is how you meet Dean:

He says, "Hey there. Come here often?"

You say, "All the time, cowboy."

xxxxxxxxxx

When you were twelve, you wanted to be a doctor. Then you were fourteen, fifteen and you wanted to be a ballerina and you trained so hard for it, but still couldn't make the cut, so you were nineteen, full chested and told that you could probably get work in Vegas.

You go to nursing school instead.

"Well," says your trainer, a woman of fifty with the type of baby-fine moustache your brother has. "Well. You'll do."

xxxxxxxxxx

In the mornings, Dean is almost playful. He tickles you awake and kisses your neck and lets you set the pace in bed. You think he's the best lay you've ever had, and that would depress you if it didn't mean that the sex was so good.

xxxxxxxxxx

Dean sleeps with two other nurses at the hospital and you have screaming fights about it. He says he's sorry and you wonder if he's sorry that he did it, that he got caught, or that now he lives with you so he has to make up or find somewhere else to live.

You want to go stay with your sister, but it's your apartment, so you clean up dinner, slamming glasses into the dishwasher. Pointedly, you toss his pillow on the couch and slam the bedroom door behind you.

xxxxxxxxxx

You like his family, even though they sometimes don't seem to like him.

John Winchester seems nice enough, a little rough around the edges and you recognize similar unpolished surfaces in Dean. The first time you go over to their house, you find yourself in the kitchen with Mary, enveloped by her maternal grace.

"Son," John says. "You wanna help me in the garage?"

As they yell at each other, the noise leaking through the walls, you help Mary with the dishes. She smiles, friendly. Asks how you like living with Dean.

You can't bear to tell her about the cheating and the hurt, so you say, "Well. I love him."

Mary laughs, abruptly. There is the sound of tools hitting the cement floor in the garage. "I love his father, too," she says wryly.

There's a certain solidarity in that and you finish the dishes laughing together.

"Pie?" You ask the two men sweetly when they come back in, both in foul moods.

xxxxxxxxxx

Dean says, "Hey there. Come here often?"

You pull a pen out of your pocket to write his BP on his chart. You are sure that you smell like the vomit from the kid in exam 3.

So, you say, "All the time, cowboy."

"I'm Dean," he says.

Turning his chart so he can see his name printed at the top, you say, "I know."

xxxxxxxxxx

When Sam calls you, he says, "Carmen" in a tentative voice. Closing your eyes tight, you groan.

"Which bar?" you ask.

Dean's favorite bars have your number listed next to the fire department's.

"Oh, no," he reassures. "Dean and I got mugged. Some guys pulled a knife on him."

Before he's finished speaking, you are out of bed, pulling on tennis shoes. For the life of you, you can't remember who's on call. Instead, you just drive as fast as you can, get there in time for Sam to still be explaining it to Jess and Mary.

"He's going to be all right," Mark says when he comes to talk to the family. Mark isn't quite meeting your eyes and you'd worry about that, but now is not the time.

Mary holds your hand and Jess is speaking to Sam and all you can think about is that this is the last thing you and Dean need.

xxxxxxxxxx

Dean wakes up in the middle of the night and when he smiles at you, it looks fake. Falsely, he says that he'll follow you to bed, but he goes home to his mother instead. You call Mary; the phone rings twice before she picks up and you say, "Have you seen Dean?"

"Is everything all right?" she asks.

xxxxxxxxxx

In the hospital bed, stitched up and on drugs, Dean wakes up and you are just so relieved.

"Feel like I've been hit by an eighteen wheeler," he says. He looks freaked out, pale and you know they treated for shock, but you can't help taking his pulse anyway, your fingers on his wrist.

"We thought you were dead," you say, counting the beats of his heart while looking at your wrist-watch. Normal. Or close to it.

Nothing about Dean seems normal any more, like a stranger woke up next to you one morning and you didn't notice.

He asks for Sam and when you kiss him, his lips are almost unresponsive.

xxxxxxxxxx

Dean sleeps on the couch until you work a twelve hour shift and come home tired and he makes you something that looks like dinner.

He sleeps curled around you, says, "I love you."

You almost forgive him for sleeping with the two nurses.

xxxxxxxxxx*

"He's going to be all right," Mark says, standing there in his scrubs like he's any other doctor and you're any other family.

Mary holds your hand and Jess is speaking to Sam, her hand cupping his neck. Mark makes noises about paperwork that you need to fill out so you follow him to the nurses' station.

Jess takes over with Mary and Mark says, "Listen, Carmen..."

You are writing in answers quickly, your back to Jess and Sam with their perfect little relationship where no one ever cheats on anyone else. It's hard not to be jealous of them because Sam is bruised, but not stabbed, and Jess is blonde but not half as stupid as you feel.

"I didn't tell him," you say to Mark. Your signature is violent. "And I'm not going to."

Mark clears his throat, taps his pen on his clipboard.

"It was just something that happened," you say.

Mark coughs, you can still see the hickey you left on his neck; you hand him the paperwork.

Sam is staring at you when you sit down on Mary's other side. He doesn't say anything, but you know what he means anyway. Mary squeezes your hand.

xxxxxxxxxx

The phone rings twice before Mary picks up.

You say, "Have you seen Dean?"

He left without saying anything. You wish that your first call had been to her, but you know him and so your first call was to his favorite bar.

"Is everything all right?" she asks. "He's here. Are you two ok?"

"Everything's fine," you lie and you wonder how he found out - how anyone found out because you and Mark were so careful.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Feel like I've been hit by an eighteen wheeler," he says. The stab wound was at an odd angle and no one mentioned that it was an odd angle for someone else to stab Dean, but a good angle for him to stab himself.

"We thought you were dead," you say. What else can you say?

He asks for Sam and when you kiss him, his lips are almost unresponsive.

You are suddenly mad at him for his coldness, even though you shouldn't be. How can he be mad at you when you forgave his infidelity?

You find Sam, walking into the hospital. He nods at you, friendly, but slightly distant like he hasn't known you for years. "Dean awake?"

"He's asking for you," you say. You need a cigarette.

After Sam leaves, you go back in.

"Hey," Dean says.

xxxxxxxxxx

A week after Dean and Sam start their road trip, you begin getting postcards.

They don't sound anything like Dean. He talks about sights like the Grand Canyon, talks about seeing the world's largest ball of twine. He talks about tourist traps and about Sam.

Mostly it's the Sam parts that give away his lies. You didn't even know he had a brother until Mary mentioned it, even then Sam was passing conversation for Dean.

After the Thanksgiving that Dean stole Sam's credit cards, you knew why.

xxxxxxxxxx

Sam catches you smoking out back, near the ambulance bay.

"Carmen," he says.

You offer over the pack of cigarettes, but he shakes his head.

"Does Dean know about that doctor?" Sam asks, intensely. You try to think of what Dean could have done for Sam that earned this sudden loyalty.

"I guess so," you say. Sam seems like a nice guy. Maybe he could have been a good brother to Dean if things hadn't gone like they did.

"He's been acting weird," you explain.

"He..." Sam pauses. "Dean probably doesn't know. He's just different now. So, don't tell him."

xxxxxxxxxx

When the two of you come home from Mary's the night of her birthday, you and he have sex quietly. It's awkward and he does things that he's never done before.

Afterwards, you fall asleep and when you wake up, he's gone.

You read in bed until Sam calls, says, "Carmen?" in a tentative voice.

There's something rotten in your stomach and you imagine Dean and Sam at a bar somewhere. At least he didn't go home to his mother again.

xxxxxxxxxx

At Thanksgiving, Jess is sitting in the living room and you and Mary are chatting when all of a sudden there's yelling in the garage. You look at Mary and remember the first time you got invited over to dinner, how sorry you felt for Dean and John, both arguing instead of talking.

This time, you feel more sorry for Jess.

"Pie?" you ask her.

"My credit cards, Dean?" Sam yells.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Hey," Dean says. He seems happier after Sam's visit.

You smile, realize that Sam must be right. Dean doesn't know. You have to keep it that way.

"Hey yourself," you answer. The words taste like bile in your mouth.

He looks like your Dean, he smells like Dean, and he has the same scars, but he isn't Dean anymore. It feels like everything that made him Dean has been wrenched out and rearranged. You keep waiting for him to say, "Hey there. Come here often?" but he doesn't.

Sometimes you catch him looking at you like he can't figure you out, and it makes you a little nervous because you can't figure him out either. He's a stranger, not the man that you kicked to the couch, but he's so familiar that you know it's just you that feels this way.

xxxxxxxxxx

His postcards begin to sound more like him. He complains about Sam, bitches about the weather, signs them, "Love, Dean."

Jess calls from California to ask if you've heard from them.

It's been two months she says into your answering machine.

You call her back and tell her about the postcards that Dean's been sending. She sounds lonely and sad. You decide to call her more often. Ever since that Thanksgiving, she's been slightly wary of you, as though you are complicit in Dean's apparent mission to make Sam unhappy.

Eventually, after a few phone calls, you ask her, "Did Sam seem weird when he left?"

There's a pause. "Dean, too?" she asks.

"Yeah," You laugh. "He was... You don't think they're running drugs or something?"

She giggles. "Or they're working for a secret government organization."

"Abducting sheep for experiments," you say.

"Impersonating Elvis."

"Secretly assassins."

You laugh and feel your loneliness intensely.

xxxxxxxxxx

When the two of you come home from Mary's the night of her birthday, you and he have sex quietly. He runs his fingers over your sides, presses too lightly on ticklish spots and seems surprised when you giggle, batting his hands away.

The confusion on his face makes you turn away and you almost wish it was over. He's a little bit rougher than usual, a little bit less certain and although he tries to cover it, you can tell he's not into it. He kisses you and murmurs "beautiful" and "baby."

Afterwards, you pretend to fall asleep and listen to him making noises around your room, the sound of a zipper, the rough drag of laces tightening. When you open your eyes, he's gone.

xxxxxxxxxx

Three months later, Dean comes home. You didn't expect him and he stinks. He needs a shave and you can tell he's been in some fights recently.

"Hey there," he says, leaning in to touch your lips. It tastes sweet and he kisses hungrily. "Come here often?"

It's the first time since Mary's birthday that you've felt like Dean is back.

"All the time, cowboy," you say.

After he's clean and you've had sex and eaten dinner and had sex again, he says, "Listen. I gotta tell you something. It's gonna sound kind of crazy."

You smile and say, "I'm listening."

"Ghosts are real," he starts.
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