Claire Winchester (née Bennet) (regenerating) wrote in parabolical, @ 2009-08-20 01:52:00 |
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Saturday night was behind them, and Claire was glad of it. Patrols were easier, in the sense that fewer vampires and demons were out harassing the unsuspecting population, but they were also harder because it meant being on constant alert for signs of the Scourge. But patrols couldn't stop, so Claire continued and as always, Dean did it with her even though he wasn't a patrolling-type otherwise. Turning her head, she eyed the bed - far higher than her head, due to currently being on the floor amid a tangle of sheets and pillows - and let out a little groan. The floor was all fine and well in the heat of sex acrobatics, but that didn't change it was still hard and she really, really preferred the softness of her mattress to sleep on. "The bed should learn to come to me," she said, still slightly breathless, then closed her eyes as Dean's lips ghosted along the bare skin of her shoulder. Dean kissed her shoulder lingeringly, as though trying to lazily worship each inch of her warm, perfect skin with his lips. He was too tired to do much, but as he slowly worked his way up to her neck, where his lips lingered even longer, Dean couldn't help but give her all of the the energy he had left. He was trying, in his own way, to show her what she meant to him. The awesome sex was as good as ever, but he was doing his best to make everything that much "more." Maybe then, he hoped, she'd be a little more likely to start telling people what she had agreed to while he was bleeding out on the floor. Dean still didn't know why he chose that particular moment to propose. He had planned to do it right, with a real ring, a real surprise, and him on one knee and make a big night out of it. Ben was going to be there, and Claire was going to say yes and then call everyone they knew. Had she said yes because she thought he was dying or something? What were people supposed to do in this position? Never one to talk about feelings or things like that, Dean settled for kissing a slow line around her neck. "I love you." he said gruffly. A soft smile spread across Claire's face at that, loving to hear the words as much, if not more, as the last time he chose to speak them. With the weight of Important Things Needing Discussed in her mind, hearing those words helped so much. "Mmm, and I love you, Batman," she said, shifting to wrap her arms, heavy-feeling like the rest of her sated body, around him. Content, yes, but not without those things in her mind to keep that contentment from being fully pervasive. There had been a few times she'd considered bringing up his blood-loss proposal, but every time she'd chickened out. But it had been a week now and she had no more answers than she had a week ago when she'd wondered whether to dismiss it or give it weight, other than to know he did remember and the situation worried him. Of course it must, if he hadn't said one word to her but had spoken to Sam, he was obviously looking for a way out of that without hurting her - that was how she had parsed the information, at least. "Gonna sleep on the floor?" she asked, using a pause between his kisses to nuzzle his throat. Dean had slept a lot worse places than the floor, and having Claire with him made the location seem even better. Still, the bed was close, and they'd wake up sore if they slept here. "Nah," he said, getting to his feet and extending his hands down to her to help her up. "I like the bed." Dean flopped back on the bed, then burrowed under the covers like a sleepy puppy instead of actually bothering to fold the blankets back and climb in. For what had to be the millionth time since the proposal, he had it on his mind to bring it up. Maybe he should smart something off about her choosing some Justin Timberland song for their first dance? But instead he held his arms out to motion for her to join him, and in doing so he chickened out entirely. Damn. After tossing pillows and sheets back on the bed and letting Dean get in, Claire looked up to find him holding his arms out to her. She didn't need the invitation twice, pausing only to fix the covers he'd burrowed under, so there was something for her to get under too, before hopping into bed and snuggling up next to him. Tucking her head under his chin, half-sprawled across his chest, she sucked in a deep breath and let it out, her breathing returning to normal now. She could stay like this forever, really. "Let's sleep in until the afternoon," she said as she traced a random design on his pectoral with a fingertip. "It'll be the second Sunday in a row we sleep half the day away, but so what." A segway, she just needed a segway into actually discussing last Saturday night/Sunday morning in order to bring up, or not bring up, the proposal. Dean smiled, rubbing her arm as he too remembered last Sunday. That night had been one of the most awful and wonderful of his life, and though he couldn't remember most of it, he was pleased with the way things turned out. Even though they were both horribly hurt in the battle, in the end Claire had agreed to marry him. That alone was enough to make the whole day count as a win. "We should make it a weekly ritual or something." He said, leaning a little to kiss her forehead. "We should just ignore the world until time for dinner, and then have something good like pie." He looked at Claire for a long moment before clearing his throat, his face decidedly neutral. "Did you get enough rest that night?" "What, you were expecting me to sleep with all your blood-loss babbling and hitting on me?" Claire teased, even now trying to take the edge off the remembrance. He was the one who had been minutes from being dead and not coming back from it without her blood or Castiel, but his foremost concern the whole time had remained the less than thirty seconds she had been dead, and then anything after that even slightly related, like her giving him her blood. And then she realized, several moments later, that she actually had a possible opening to talking about the proposal that she was sure now had just been from the heat of the moment for him. "You probably don't even remember most of what you said that night," she continued. There. Sam had said Dean was confused and worried, so that would give him an easy out to say he didn't remember anything he said... and things would just go back to the status quo. He wouldn't need to know that Sam had told her and she'd just tell Sam later that it had been taken care of. Dean gave Claire a questioning look. Of course, some of the finer details about the night were things he'd likely never remember, but the 'blood loss blabbling" made it sound like he had not known what he was asking her, and that had not been the case at all. "I remember most of it," he said, kissing her again. They were really close to the subject of what happened a week ago, and though he had been wondering almost desperately himself, he was almost chicken enough to try to seduce her again to make her stop talking about. His heart started pounding slightly, but he forced himself to stay calm. She probably wasn't even talking about that, he reminded himself. Most of it. Claire's stomach did a little leap, not from the kiss - though that, as always, was toe-curlingly amazing - but from his words, and she felt once more like she had the night they'd first had sex, uncertain if his words were innocent, or heavy with meaning. Did it mean he didn't want the easy out? "Most of it?" she questioned, still trying to keep her tone purposefully light and teasing. "What, all the times you told everyone you were just fine, it was just a scratch, you were ready to get back out there, etcetera?" She toyed with the pendant around his neck, finding it harder to keep still. Dean could not help but to laugh. He knew that some people might think that he was over confident, but in his line of work he had no choice. You had to push through an injury, to tell yourself you were fine and finish the fight, because if he had sat down and cried every time he got a broken bone over the years, or waited on the sidelines for someone to come rescue him, he would have gotten killed a long time ago. Besides, even when he was younger he had to watch out for Sam. Maybe it sounded foolish to call himself 'Batman,' and downplay his injuries, but that was just him...the man she had agreed to marry. "Almost all of it, except for the parts where I'm pretty sure I took a nap or something." It sounded better to say that than to say he passed out. "I remember you holding me there, telling me to play dead." The corners of his lips turned up. "You think I'm some dog learning tricks now, Bennet?" Yes, the 'naps' were the problem, as by the time he'd proposed, he'd falling in and out of consciousness - no-doubt a half-conscious proposal at best. But what he said still didn't tell Claire anything more about what she wanted to know. She knew she could just ask him directly, but she was still afraid that if she said it, plainly, he'd feel obligated to follow through on his delirious proposal just because she'd made it something that could no longer be ignored. The others might be so certain of Dean meaning the commitment, but Claire was still gunshy about it being a repeat of the past - for either of them. "I don't know, you might be an old dog, but you're taking to training slowly but surely," she teased, but it was only partially a joke, and not just because playing dead hadn't been for shits and giggles, but because being together did result in 'training', people altering bits of themselves to fit as a couple instead of single people. Marriage would only increase that. He loved her, but she could understand why the formality of marriage left him worried and looking for a way out. Dean snorted and swatted her butt lightly beneath the covers. "I'm an old dog, but I can still bark and bite with the best of them. I've even heard a few people say that I have some pretty damn good tricks of my own." He said nothing for a long minute, trying to gauge how safe it was for him to change subjects slightly. Screw it. he thought, and plunged ahead after clearing his throat. "So what do you remember from that night, Claire?" He hoped she'd bring up the reason why she hadn't told anyone yet, because he was starting to wonder whether she wanted to marry him at all. Marriage would be hard for her, both because of the adjustment that came with being married, but also because it would tie her even closer to him and his very mortal family, and those ties would come back to hurt her a great deal when everyone else was gone. "You ganging up on me with Cas, for one." Claire rolled her eyes. "Men." So yes, it was a cop out answer, but she was pacing herself, still trying to figure this all out. It really wasn't happening. "Also some other things, you know, all the talking you were doing when you needed a transfusion." This was ridiculous. Maybe that was the point, if she couldn't even get herself to ask a question that would require them to face something of this proportion, she had no business accepting proposals anyhow. Dean frowned, uncertain then. The proposal could be covered under the 'some other things,' clause, or maybe he had really just imagined it. After all, he knew that the blood loss was a lot worse than what he had tried to make Claire believe, maybe he never had said it out loud. There were times when Dean could have all of the confidence in the world, when he could walk in to a crime scene and bullshit with the best of them until he could convince anyone that he knew what he was doing, but at times like this he couldn't even ask a simple question. "What do you mean 'some other things?' Some other things like me saving your ass or...some things like me proposing?" He sat there, almost stunned after the words fell out of his mouth, but quickly covered it with kissing her. Maybe she wouldn't notice the way that he sounded so uncertain. In just the right position for a thorough kiss, given her mouth had just dropped open, Claire responded automatically rather than consciously to the kiss at first. She'd been trying to lead the conversation near the topic, but she was very much surprised that Dean had actually been the one to get to the point about it. If he was worried enough to talk to Sam about it, then why wasn't he taking the outs she was giving him? When she had brain enough to respond, she gently pulled back from the kiss. "So you do remember saying it?" Well, duh, obviously he did since he'd said exactly that, but she couldn't stop herself from saying it just the same. Dean couldn't help it. He laughed loudly after her question, so hard he fell back on the bed and looked up at the ceiling. "How could you forget something like that?" He asked, his voice slightly raspy from laughing so hard. He turned to look at her, and motioned for her to come lie next to him with one hand. "I was so worried about you, and I still wasn't sure we were going to get out of there alright, that those things wouldn't come back, but the one thing I DID know was that I wanted to ask you before something else went wrong." He paused, a small frown forming on his face. "But it probably wasn't the best idea. You really didn't have a chance to think it through since I was bleeding out right there on top of you, and I didn't even have a ring." He was offering her an out. If she had had second thoughts, if she didn't EVER want anyone to know she had accepted his proposal, he didn't want to hold her to it. However, he was hoping she'd not changed her mind. He was laughing. Dean was laughing at her. God, why did this happen so often? Very few of the reasons for him to belly laugh like that in bed were actually funny to her! She sulkily moved back to him when he reached for her, but not to lie down - instead, she drew her knees up, resting her chin atop them. The stillness didn't last long. "The ring's not the important part!" she said as she sat straight up. "I'd wear a freaking bolt from the Impala and be glad." It had been a gut response to his words and she made herself reign that in. Letting out a breath, she paused for a few quiet moments, and then dropped her chin back to her knees. So what did this mean? Was the worry about backing out now, after having wanted it? Was that why he was talking about her not having a chance to think it through? She didn't need to. She'd said yes to shut him up in what she thought was his delirium, but it hadn't been without a part of her hoping he meant it and meaning her 'yes' that fiercely. That was why she couldn't help but be honest now. He hadn't taken the outs, and she'd given him enough, and she just couldn't sit here and say she didn't want to marry him, even if that would have been a clean end to the topic. She did want to. She'd never dreamed she would want to marry after a failed engagement and the heavy truth of her ability... but she did. "It wasn't about me thinking it through," she said softly. "I didn't think you'd actually meant it. You were bleeding out everywhere and nearly dead and delirious. And then you didn't say anything after we got home, haven't said anything all week." Dean sat up, realizing too late that Claire probably didn't like to be laughed at like that. He scooted over to her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "Honey, I wouldn't have said it unless I meant it. You know I'm pretty much the last person on earth to agree to commitment. You're the longest relationship I've ever had, Claire, but if I were delirious I'd be talking about seeing you naked covered in pie, not about locking myself into that kind of commitment. I thought about it a lot, Claire, even if the proposal was sort of half assed." He rubbed her arm, not sure whether he was supposed to ask her again or let her digest his first proposal, but he decided to do the right thing and try again. "I meant it when I asked Claire. I love you. I w-" Claire stopped him with two hands, the fingers of both folded over his mouth to keep him from continuing. She needed to process this, and then she had things to ask. He remembered - the thought that he didn't remember had been debunked by Sam knowing - and Dean hadn't want to just pretend and go back to their lives, as he'd refused to take her outs. He still wasn't trying to get out of it - he had just said he'd thought about it and the words he'd been about to say might well have been something along the lines of a renewed proposal. So what was the confusion and worry? Why had Sam said "you don't want to, right?" to her? She squeezed her eyes shut, dismissed the questions she couldn't answer for the moment because they didn't add up, and focused on the question she needed to ask, one associated with things she didn't want marring this moment if he wanted this and wanted it for the right reasons... and God how she hoped he did. But she had to know. "You didn't ask me because I died?" she asked, quiet, gaze intent on him. Dean shook his head 'no,' then moved his hands to take hers and move them away from his mouth. "I mean, it scared the hell out of me, Claire. When you were gone..." His voice became rough, and he coughed to clear it before it did anything else to give away how sore the subject was. "It made me realize I didn't need to wait to do the big huge proposal, because you never know what's going to happen here. " He squeezed her hands tightly, then met her gaze without hesitation. "I was going to ask you before, Claire. Not there, not that way, but I was..." Staring into his eyes, Claire believed him. She didn't need to question it and because of that, she didn't need to remind him about how he'd held on to Jo because she had died, as this was no longer the same. Not when he'd planned it before she had died. Feeling giddy excitement building low in her gut - he wants to marry me, me, he's not trying to get out of this, oh my god, is this really happening? - she moved to the confusing elements, needing to sort it all out after this week of uncertainty, so there were no more assumptions or misinterpretations. "So if you'd planned it, and you meant it even though you were barely coherent, then what did you talk to Sam about?" she asked. Dean felt intense relief. He could see the excitement building in her, and it felt good to let himself become excited as well. Then she brought up Sam and he groaned. Not only was asking everyone but Claire not his proudest moment, suddenly he felt pretty damn silly for not just manning up and asking her if she still wanted to be engaged. "Well I guess I assumed we'd get home and you'd do the high pitched squeeling thing, and that people would be knocking on the door, threatening me that if I hurt you they'll kill me, and all of that. I tried to find out if Mom knew, and when I found out Sam didn't know either...I thought you changed your mind, or that I was wrong about you saying yes. I guess Sam just decided to help." Suddenly things made so much sense... and no sense at all. Without another word, without yet pausing to lament over the levels to which they always managed to both completely understand each other and completely miss the point at the same time, Claire tumbled out of her bed and darted out the door naked, returning a few moments later with her laptop. She flopped back down on the bed, not bothering to cover up, and quickly pulled up the conversation with Sam. "He said you were confused, that you were worried. I thought..." she frowned, "I thought he was trying to find the nice way of telling me you'd remembered and wanted to back out of it now because you didn't want that kind of step or something. He was even all "you don't want to marry him, do you?" with me, I swear!" She jabbed her finger at the screen without looking closely, her attention on Dean. "See?" Dean shook his head, pointing back at the computer screen. "No, he said the word we agreed on was worried." He didn't like admitting it, even to Sam, and certainly not to Claire, but he had been worried. It was a huge thing for him to consider marriage, and to think that the woman he wanted to marry might not feel the same way was downright terrifying. "I was worried because you weren't telling anyone, I thought you were having second thoughts." He paused, his eyes searching over the screen until he reached out and used her mousepad to highlight Sam's exact words. There was a small smirk on his face, because it was good to see that she too could misunderstand things and do silly things just like him. "Read that for me, Supergirl, will you? |