|Laurel Lance (i_crylikeabird) wrote in we_coexist,|
@ 2013-12-21 18:43:00
|Entry tags:||challenge: threadmas, dean winchester, dinah lance, zz:status complete|
Another year, another spat (Dinah/Dean, TBC in comments)
Once the planning was underway for her new costume, Dinah knew that it was time to go home and explain things to Dean. She wanted to check on Zoe too, but she couldn’t keep this secret any longer than she already had. It wasn’t that she’d intended to keep the fact that she’d had to have the Hulk come and help her dodge bullets. It was just that she’d wanted to do something about it before she told Dean. She knew that he wanted her safe and she wanted to be able to show him that she was doing the best she could. She also really didn’t want him to worry. Sure, she knew that that sort of thing came with the territory, but at the very least she didn’t want him worrying more than necessary.
She let herself into their apartment and looked around to see if the man in question was home just yet. The apartment itself wasn’t quite as festive as the previous year, though she had made sure that they had a tree. She’d been cautious about putting up much else in the way of decorations because last year she’d been overcompensating in an attempt to keep her mind off Jake’s absence. And it had backfired, really. Taking everything down after Dean had decided to go off hunting hadn’t been that much fun.
She couldn’t help but worry that this year might be a repeat of the last year. Then again, he’d returned not too long after and that had been the first time they’d actually exchanged ‘I love yous’ so it hadn’t been all that bad in the end. Still, she hoped that this conversation went better than the reveal about her talk with Eric.
Dean had found a happy place on the couch, stretched out in jeans and a tee. His hair still had that just out of the shower wet look, which meant he’d probably been digging in dirt or fighting something that got nasty prior to getting back home. He was dozing with their favorite show playing in the background. He’d seen every one of the episodes with the doctor in cowboy boots; he could probably quote most of it by now. Yet, he still watched it, or at least napped to it.
His arms crossed loosely over his midsection, and he wasn’t fully aware. Not until she stepped further into the apartment. He smiled lazily up at her, giving her a wink.
“This is the one he finds out that it wasn’t his baby after all.” He motioned to the screen, not at all explaining who ‘he’ was. She knew. “And that kid. They’re trying to save…”
Dinah smiled and hung her coat in the closet.
“That’s one of my favorites,” she said.
She had definitely see this show a time or two. Maybe more. Often enough that it was comfort watching for her. There was very little that she enjoyed more than staying in with good food, curled up on the couch with an episode of the nighttime soap on. It was tempting now to just postpone the discussion and see if he was up for a night like that. That certainly was the night she’d prefer to have, especially because he was cute when he was a little bit sleepy like this.
Instead, she headed to the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of beer for them both. She returned to the living room area and set one bottle down on the coffee table for him. She didn’t try to sit down just yet.
“I need to tell you something.”
Straight to the point, but at this point she wasn’t sure she could stomach small talk without worrying about his reaction to the things she needed to tell him.
“Yeah, that kid...Not dead yet...Got so many tubes in him he looks like a bagpipe.” Dean shuddered. He’d seen some crazy shit in his life, even shit dealing with young guys, but that always got to him. It was strange that this was one of his favorites though. Perhaps not, the kid lived.
“Mmm?” He hadn’t been completely oblivious to her not so happy mood, but it only really clicked when she set down beers without sitting beside, on top of, or against him. The words clinched it though. He sat up slowly, eyes narrowing.
“Okay.” The older Winchester didn’t like those words. Not if beer had to be involved, or Dinah thought beer might be needed. He didn’t reach for the bottle; his hands remained on his thighs as he waited for whatever bad news she was about to give. “Shoot.”
Dinah took the remote and tried to turn off the TV. She frowned when instead the volume turned off mute.
“I must have pressed the wrong button,” she muttered.
She was stalling for time, possibly. She sighed and finally found the right button to turn the TV off. No distractions. That was a good idea. She turned her attention back to Dean and remained standing. He was ignoring the bottle of beer, but she clung to her own as though it would somehow help her find the right words. She didn’t take a drink though.
“I’m finally going to upgrade my costume with a few more safety features.”
Leading with the good news first was the way to go, right?