John Winchester (![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} daddywinchester) wrote in ![[info]](http://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} parabolical,@ 2008-12-07 18:17:00 |
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| Entry tags: | john winchester, mary winchester |
WHO: John & Mary Winchester
WHERE: Winchester & co house
WHEN: November 19; afternoon [backdated to before everyone moves in]
WHAT: Showing Mary the new house and proof that with age doesn't always come wisdom.
RATING: PG-ish
STATUS: log; COMPLETE
After checking the knot on the scarf he'd used as a blindfold to drive them here, making certain it wasn't too tight or too loose, John lifted Mary out of the truck so she didn't slip – trying not to focus on how good it felt to have her in his arms, even briefly – and then steered her toward the new house.
This house was much bigger, but not as new, so there was an older feel to it the house in Kansas hadn't had, and he hoped it would appeal to her, that 'project' air about it. He and the boys would do the hard labor to get anything into shape, but he wanted the house to be hers and the girls to turn into a home in all those detailed ways John had never been able to manage. It wasn't a skill he dismissed, knowing the right furniture to choose or the colors to paint with or the fabrics to use, not by any means, but it was definitely one he didn't have and one she had always had a gift for.
The paint color, a light yellow, wasn't right, so he knew that would be the first thing to be changed, but he trusted her to look beyond it. Sucking in a breath, he brought them to a halt and then unknotted the scarf and slid it from her eyes.
"There, that's the surprise. It's ours, all of ours, to move in to as soon as it's livable," he said, watching her carefully.
Though the apartment felt a lot like home now, there were still times when Mary missed her little house in Kansas. There were things you could do in a home that you just couldn't do in an apartment, like the way they had started marking Dean's height on a wall in his room from the moment he had been old enough to toddle around. She had intended to do the same thing with Sammy, but fate had had other plans. That wasn't to say that she didn't appreciate what they had in LA, because she knew they really all did have a lot here, but at times the cramped quarters of the apartment left her wishing that they still had a real home with room for them all to run around and a little yard.
Mary shifted in the seat of the truck, trying to guess where they were going. She knew it had to be a pleasant sort of surprise, because John wouldn't have blind folded her with the scarf and come up with such an elaborate ruse to tell her bad news, but she had no idea what sort of surprise he could possibly be about to show her. She was alive, she had their children here, she had John, and, in some small miracle, her boys had found love. What could possibly be better than all of that?
John helped her out of the truck and she too found herself distracted. He had been nothing but nice to her since her arrival, but he did not often touch her. For a long moment she found her thoughts shifting in other directions, to the past, but she quickly forced her attention back to the present.
The scarf fell from her eyes and Mary gasped. A house? He was surprising her again with a house? A hand flew to her mouth and a look of pure wonder appeared in her eyes as she looked it over, overlooking things that she knew they would fix like the yellow exterior or minor cosmetic blemishes that came with the house being a little older. It was supposed to be their home, she could almost feel it.
“Ours?” She asked, turning to him almost breathlessly. There was certainly enough room for all of them here, and in this house Mary knew her family could put down real roots.
The look on her face alone was enough to satisfy John that he had 'done right', a look he recognized even after years of having only slowly fading memory to remind him of it. He nodded slowly, absorbing her expression for a moment like a man starved before inclining his head toward the house.
"Let's go inside so I can show you around. It's a big place," he said, then guided her inside as he explained how he had come into possession of the house without specifically stating the big details, as he was still conscious of protecting her, sheltering her from reminders of what she'd 'lived' through. Even if the spirit left in this house was nothing like her situation, it wasn't an easy subject, and while it sometimes didn't seem as though John Winchester knew the meaning of sensitive, for Mary, he did.
Mary listened intently as John spoke, but already her mind was racing with ideas for the place. She could almost see it filled up with furniture, could almost see herself and the girls cooking Thanksgiving and Christmas dinner here when the time came while John and Dean and perhaps even Sam tried to sneak in...it would be just like old times. The house, which had seemed spacious on the outside, felt cozy inside, but there was clearly enough room here for the growing Winchester clan and all of their friends.
She didn't even let John fully finish his explanation before she went to him, her arms wrapping around him in a loose hug. She knew he had likely gone through a lot to get the home, even if he was glossing over the finer details, but, what's more, she appreciated that he had taken the effort to surprise her with it as well.
“Thank you, John. It's a gorgeous house.” She looked up at him hopefully. “The boys, have they seen it? Do they like it too?”
John didn't stiffen so much as still, sluggish to react for once in his life before finally sliding his arms around her, just as loose as hers. He was holding her and the desire to close his arms around her tightly was so strong it was an ache. But he was careful with her, always careful, because even before he had gone to Hell, he hadn't been the man she married anymore. After it, that was just more apparent given what nightmares were starting to reveal. But that didn't change how much he loved her, even now, and thus how much he wanted even this simple contact.
But he couldn't keep it up, not right now.
"Boys were here last night, making it safe to be in," he said, then smiled as he released her and headed back up the stairs to the main floor. "And yeah, I think they like it. Not used to living in a real house, but they'll adapt quickly. They can have the top floor," he continued, then explained his idea for where everyone else could be, including his idea of possibly inviting Bobby to live with them too. The master bedroom was mentioned as they moved through the house again, but he mentioned it for her alone.
For a moment Mary too stilled, comforted by the feel of John's arms loosely wrapped around her. She relaxed, really, truly relaxed for a moment, and it was glorious. She wanted to tighten her arms around him, to hold tightly and never let him go again, but she resisted. It was only natural that things would need time to recover after all that they had been through, but Mary ached for him. It wasn't one specific thing she wanted so much as a combination of many things the physical closeness, the intimacy...everything.
His smile eased the separation and Mary followed him, listening intently as he described where everyone would stay. She was thrilled that he had included everyone in their new family, from Heather and Jo to a room that would be Bobby's, if he wanted it. At first, when he when he spoke of the Master bedroom, she assumed he was making a small mistake, because she assumed that by the time they were in a more permanent residence John wouldn't still be sleeping in another room, but then he mentioned the room that would be his on the top floor, next to the room that Heather would be sharing with Sam and Dean's room (which would also be Jo's on her frequent visits) and Mary knew there had been no mistake. Her own unmarried children were sharing rooms with their girlfriends of a few months, and though Mary was happy beyond belief for them she felt...jealous?
Don't be stupid, Mary, these things take time. You were both dead, you should just be happy he's alive.
She gave him a smile, one that somehow didn't go all the way to her eyes. “It all sounds great, John." She leaned in, kissing him on the cheek. "The house will be wonderful for Christmas, won't it?"
It was only sheer willpower that kept John from closing his eyes at the brush of lips across his cheek, but when he pulled back from it, the focus changed entirely. Suddenly she was too close, yet he couldn't bring himself to back away. His eyes flickered from hers to her lips and back again and John Winchester, a man who normally assessed a situation, decided what he could and couldn't do and then did what he could with single-minded determination, found himself at a loss.
There were a hundred reasons why he shouldn't do this right now. He was twenty-plus years older than her physically, they were unknown span apart in 'experience' ages, she had only recently come back from the dead and needed time to adjust to being alive again, he needed time to deal with curbing the hunt-and-kill revenge urges that had motivated him for years because, even though she was alive, her death had still happened, but there was no longer the hunger to make things pay as much as there had once been – those reasons and more.
But he could smell her hair, the fragrance she wore that was perfume and wholly her, and urges that had begun to make themselves known after two decades of celibacy were definitely looking to get his attention now.
Mary meant to pull back after kissing his cheek. She had intended for the gesture to be simple, brief, and to express her gratitude alone. However, things seemed very different when she was up close to him. Even this close, Mary still saw him as the man she had married. It had been an exceptionally bad idea, to allow herself that one small close encounter, because it left her wanting more.
Very slowly, Mary leaned in even closer, brushing her lips over his. The motion was almost self conscious, because she was still unsteady from the news that they would not be sharing a room, but the result was the same. Mary had kissed him, and she waited, lingering there, to see his reaction.
Though there was no overt outward reaction, Mary kissing him was like a jolt of electricity straight to his heart. He had been so controlled with her and the younger Mary, wanting there to be nothing that made them unhappy and no hint of anything less that innocent, but even he had his weaknesses, and her kissing him was one of them right now because he had wanted it that much. His nights weren't always filled with nightmares, sometimes they were filled with far different things, from old memories to just fantasies.
He leaned in before he could stop himself and kissed her back, not tentative, but hungry, the kiss of a man who had temptation put in front of him one too many times and had passed the limits of his restraint. He held her at her waist, fingers wrapped around it, thumbs resting on her stomach, and let himself have that kiss for count of ten or thereabouts before he pulled back entirely. It wasn't enough by far and he realized, even then, that he had just made the ache for her that he tried to hard to repress worse now by far.
After a moment, he cleared his throat. "Christmas here'll be good. The boys deserve to see what a real Christmas looks like after all these years." It was self-defeating behavior at its finest, bringing up a poignant reminder of why they hadn't had a real Christmas because of what he had done, the man he had become in those years of obsessive revenge.
The kiss was everything Mary hoped it might be. From the moment John gave in, Mary gave herself over to the kiss as well. The touch of his hands at her waist made her feel deliciously dizzy, and the kiss itself...God, had they kissed like that before? And if they had, what on earth had taken them so long to do it again?
For a long moment after John stepped back, Mary stood there entirely still, savoring the ten seconds or so that things made sense again. Finally, with a small, quiet sigh, Mary opened her eyes and gave him a soft smile. “They've never had a Christmas before where we were all together, I'm sure they'll get a kick out of it. We could have a big tree and put it over here....”
The location of the tree wasn't that important to Mary, because the living room was spacious enough to have several different locations that would be great for a nice Christmas tree, but the location she was indicating, at a window far away from John Winchester, kept her from losing control and kissing him again, or, worse, pulling him impulsively into the master bedroom. Not that Mary would have regretted either, but she knew John well enough to know that he had his own way of going about things...and his way in this situation just took time.
It was a good thing John didn't know her motivations, or what the alternatives flashing through her head were, as that might have wrecked his self control irrevocably. As it was, the talk of the holidays was what he focused on, though it was mostly not-focusing on the kiss than it was imagining what she was pointing out.
"Yeah, there'll be good," he said, relatively certain it was an acceptable opinion to have, given there was a window there and trees tended to look good in front of them – their Christmas tree had always gone in front of a window, after all. "I think plans like that will be just what we all need to get into the holiday spirit."
After a moment, he cleared his throat. "How about we go back to the kitchen and dining room and you can start telling me what you need," he said, then steered her in that direction. He would let pots and pans and tables be the distraction until it was a legitimate distraction from thoughts about his wife he still didn't think he ought to be having right now – and when, well, that was still in the air.
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