"I'm sorry... have we met before?" she asks, looking confused.
Dean blinks furiously, his body frozen as the shock slowly drains from his body. It was... it was her. She existed. She was alive.
Holy shit.
And...she didn't remember him. Of course she didn't-she as an illusion, a dream. She'd never met him.
And she was Sam's girlfriend.
"Oh," Dean says finally. "Uh, no. Just... Sam told me your name. He's inside, just, uh, downstairs. Come on in."
"Thanks," she says softly, taking a step towards him. Her hair was loose and slightly wavy-natural, she used to call it-and there was a light dusting of snow on her jacket, her hair, her eyelashes. Dean has a brief flashback to the time he covered the ceiling in mistletoe, and she walked in wearing the exact same thing.
He shakes his head suddenly to clear it. That never happened, Dean, he reminds himself. That was a trick. He slams the door shut.
She looks at him then. "You okay?" she asks. "You look pale."
Dean forces a chuckle. "Yeah, I'm good." Her concern causes a lump to rise in his throat but he speaks around it. "I'm Dean, by the way. Sam's older brother."
She smiles. "Yeah, he told me about you."
"Nothin' too bad, I hope?" he asks, giving her a small smile in return.
She laughs, tucking a lock of her hair behind her ear. "Not yet," she says lightly. "It's really nice to meet you."
Dean swallows hard, unable to look away from her round, hazel eyes. "Yeah," he replies. "You, too."
He forces himself to tear his gaze from hers as he says, "Here, come on. Sam's downstairs."
Dean starts down, still recovering from the initial shock that blasted through him when he first saw her. He couldn't believe that she was here. That she was more than a figment of his imagination. And she was so... Jane. He'd only talked to her for a minute, obviously, but everything she said and the way she said it... it was familiar. More like a memory than anything else.
His hand trails along the rail stiffly, his body aware of every movement she made. "Sam!" He calls out. "Janes here!"
Sam walks out of his room, looking fairly normal considering how nervous he was before.
"Hey, Jane," he says to her with a smile.
"Hi, Sam," she says, reaching up to give him a brief hug. Dean's stomach twists and he looks away.
"How've you been?" he asks when she pulls back.
"Since yesterday?" she teases. He blushes and Dean smiles in spite of himself.
"I've been good," she replies. "You?"
"Yeah, I've been good too." He clears his throat. "So, you met Dean."
She turns and smiles at Dean and his stomach instantly reacts. "Yes, I did. He's nicer than you described," she says mischievously.
Sam laughs and Dean snorts. "Thanks, Sammy."
"Sammy?" she asks, her eyes brightening. "He calls you Sammy?"
Sam sighs. "It's an unbreakable habit he has, unfortunately."
Dean grins and she giggles. "No, no. It's cute."
"I'm not cute," Sam says with a smile. "I'm manly."
She pokes him in the ribs. "Sure you are."
Watching them, watching how easily they can interact with each other forms a pit in Dean's stomach but he keeps a small smile on his face.
He wraps an arm around her shoulders, seeming much more at ease then he was before she got here.
"Well," Dean says, feeling out of place. "I'm gonna leave you two kids alone. No parties, and keep it PG-13." He added the last part as a joke, but the idea of Sam being intimate with a girl he had-in a way-been with made him feel slightly nauseous.
Sam rolls her eyes and she grins at Dean. "But Sam loves parties, don't you Sam?" she asks.
He grins down at her. "Oh, yeah. Totally. Nah, parties are more of Dean's scene."
She looks at him. "Were you the one that woke up passed out in somebody's yard?"
Dean laughs. "Nah, I got more style than that."
"He was the one that woke up next to the naked girl," Sam says with a smile.
"Ladies man, huh?" she teases.
Dean winks at her. "You have no idea."
"Yeah, I mean you should hear some of the lines he's dropped on women. Pure gold," Sam says sarcastically.
Dean points at him. "Hey, man. Seduction is an art form."
Sam snorts. She grins. "I'll have to hear some of these golden lines later."
"You don't want to do that," Sam says, biting back a laugh.
"Hush, Sammy. You could learn a thing or two from me and you know it."
"Right," he laughs.
There's a pause.
"Alright," Dean says after a moment. "I'll be back in a few hours."
"You don't have to leave, Dean," Sam says.
"Yeah," she says with a smile. "Stick around."
Dean's stomach twists but he shakes his head and gives them a small smile. "Nah, I'm good. I'll go get a beer or somethin'. Don't wreck the place, huh, Sammy?" he says before lifting his jacket off the chair and sliding it around his shoulders.
Sam laughs. "Yeah, don't worry."
"Have fun," Dean calls as he fishes his keys out of his pocket with trembling fingers and walks toward the garage.
"You too," Sam replies just before the door shuts.
Dean walks to his car and climbs in, the silence merely emphasizing the shock still coursing through his veins. He crosses his arms over the steering wheel and drops his head down, exhaling heavily.
How was this possible? How could someone completely made up, someone who was supposed to be only an illusion created by a hallucinogenic poison, not only exist but exist as if they were a memory? And the odds of the dreamer and the dreamed crossing paths.... Seemed practically astronomical. It would've almost seemed like something drew her here, for a purpose beyond his comprehension. Unless, of course, it hadn't been for the fact that she arrived not for Dean but rather as his younger brother's girlfriend.
Dean's fingers massage his temples slowly. It had taken him weeks to accept that what he had had with you wasn't real, and that he probably would never experience it with anyone. And just when he'd reached that point... you'd walked back into his life. His real life. It was a blessing.
And yet it was a curse. The ultimate curse. To never be able to be with the one he knew he loved.
Maybe that was melodramatic at this stage, but he couldn't see being with someone Sam was once with as not weird. Then again, it was weird now, considering he had been with her, and now Sam was. Not that Sam knew that.
If Dean told him, would Sam believe him? Would he even listen? If he did, he would try to brush it off. She wasn't real in your dream, he'd say. She's not the same. This is real.
You can't love someone who never knew you even existed.
Dean knew it was only going to get worse from here. From the second he opened that door, he'd tangled her with their already massively chaotic lives, and she'd be caught like a spider in a web. She'd be stuck, and even if Dean wanted to release her, he didn't know if he could.
Or would.
Why her? He wonders desperately. Why did it have to be her?
In order to save himself from any more pain, he should just leave. He should drive his car away, and not come back. Start living on the road again. Exaggerated precautionary measures, maybe, but it was one thing to lose the girl he loved to his own mind. It was an entirely different thing to lose her to his brother.
But he knew he wouldn't. Because he loved Sam, and he loved her. And he didn't have it in him to walk out on the two people he loved most in the world. He just didn't.
And that's what he'd always done, right?
He'd played through the pain.
-----------
Two weeks later
Dean wakes to the sound of pans clanging in the kitchen, and he rolls over in his bed, groaning. He tries to put a pillow over his head to block out the noise, but it's futile. Grumbling, he staggers out of bed, rubbing his eyes as he wanders into the hall. "Sam," he mumbles irritably. "Quit bein' so damn loud."
Dean rounds the corner and drops his hand to his side before freezing. She's standing sheepishly next to the stove, a carton of eggs on the counter next to her and a spatula in her hand. For the moment the only sound is the sizzling of the eggs in the pan as he stares at her in surprise.
"Jane," he says, bewildered. "Uh-"
"Sorry," she says, her cheeks turning red. "I didn't mean to be loud. I was just going to make you guys some breakfast."
Dean blinks, his eyes running briefly down her body. She was clad in a sleep shirt of Sam's and a pair of his plaid boxers. Dean feels as though an icy hand plunged into his stomach and twists his insides and he swallows hard. If that wasn't a clear indicator as to why she was still here this morning, nothing was.
She glances down at herself, her feet twisting uncomfortably. "I was going to change before you got up," she says with an awkward laugh.
Dean looks away, struggling to keep his tone nonchalant. "No, don't worry about it," he says hurriedly. He notices how lovely she looks with the blush staining her cheeks and he bites his lip, remembering how whenever you'd blush when he was with her, he'd lift you into the air and gave you little kisses all over until it had faded and she was giggling uncontrollably. "I take it Sam's still... asleep?"
She smiles affectionately and it's like a knife to Dean's gut. "Yeah, he is. Heavy sleeper," she notes. "Do you want some breakfast?"
Dean forces a smile. "Hell yeah I want some breakfast," he says, keeping his tone casual. "What's on the menu?"
"Nothing fancy," she says with a smile. "Just eggs and bacon and toast. Hope that's okay."
Dean chuckles. "That's better than okay. Lately my breakfast has been whatever's cheapest at the nearest diner or McDonald's."
"What does Sam eat, then?" she asks. "Whatever's outside?"
"Yeah, we've got some plants out back that he likes," Dean says, and she laughs. "Won't let me near 'em."
"That sounds like him," she says, shaking her head. "I swear he eats more salad than I do."
"Yeah, Sammy's always been kind of a health nut," Dean says, shaking his head in mock disapproval. "I mean, he goes to the Farmers Market. For fun."
"For fun?" she repeats in fake horror.
Dean nods seriously. "It's bad, man. Sometimes I worry about him. Man's gotta eat his meat."
"Think he'll spontaneously grow lady parts someday?" she asks, cracking another egg and pouring it onto the pan.
"You guys think you're so funny," Sam's voice says from behind them. Dean turns around to see Sam walking towards the kitchen, shaking his head and smiling. He wraps his arms around her stomach and kisses her cheek while Dean watches in painful silence. He continues to eat, but it's like trying to chew rubber. He can't force it down and suddenly he feels slightly sick.
Sam glances at him. "Late night, Dean?"
Dean knew what he was asking. Another girl?
Jane glances at him as she stirs she eggs, Sam's forearms still wrapped around her middle. Dean clears his throat.
"Uh, kinda. Just went out for a few drinks."
"Remember her name?" Sam jokes.
Dean shifts uncomfortable. He knew Sam wasn't serious, but at the same time, he was making him look like some womanizing dick. Which he was in a way, but he didn't tell girls he loved them and he made sure the expectations were 100% clear before he did as much as let them into his car. He listened to what they wanted, how they wanted it. He was careful, and wasn't rough unless they asked for it. Maybe he did sleep with too many girls, but at least he was honest in his actions.
"Actually, there, uh, wasn't anyone," Dean says, taking another bite and avoiding Sam's gaze.
"You didn't see any cute girls?" Sam asks.
"No, I saw some," Dean says shortly.
Jane turns off the stove.
There's a pause. "Good for you, man," Sam says, surprising Dean.
He scoffs. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Sam shrugs. "What? That doesn't happen very often. Did you get rejected?"
Dean rolls his eyes. "Seriously, Sam? Me? Get rejected? You seen all this?" He asks, gesturing down up and down his body.
Jane giggles and Dean winks at her. Sam chuckles and shakes his head. "Nice."
Dean shrugs and smiles. "Don't ask stupid questions, Sammy."
"That qualifies as a stupid question?" Jane teases.
Dean points his fork at her sternly. "You haven't seen me in action, sweetheart."
She laughs. "Okay, okay. I'll just have to take your word for it."
Her words hit him hard.
"You alright, miss?" Dean asked as he pulled over to the side of the road. He'd seen a girl standing in front of her car with the hood up looking uncertain and annoyed. It was nighttime, and he was unreasonably worried that some pervert might come along or something.
"Um," she said, turning around. Dean froze. She was beautiful. Waving, brown hair hanging long, clear hazel eyes, and a simple white tee shirt and blue jeans. She looked him up and down warily. "I think I'll be okay. I'll call AAA."
Dean raised his eyebrows. "Think you'll get service out here?"
She swallowed. "I guess we'll see."
Dean stuck his hands in his pockets uncomfortably. "This might be weird, because I'm a stranger and I could be some perv or something-"
"-or a serial killer," she agreed.
Dean smiled in spite of himself. "But I do know a thing or two about cars. I could take a look."
She considers his offer for a long moment, chewing the inside of her lip. Then she smiles and it just about knocks the wind out of his body.
"How am I supposed to know you're not gonna make it worse so you can kidnap me or something?" She asks.
Dean winks at her. "Well, now technically, you don't."
She laughs. "I'll just have to take your word for it."
"Dean?" Sam's concerned voice suddenly cuts through his memory and he blinks several times, feeling the wind of the cold night and the light scent of your perfume fade away. They were so goddamn vivid.
He shakes his head and Sam asks, "You okay, man? You looked really sick for a second there."
"Yeah, I'm good."
"Are you sure?" Sam asks worriedly. "Let me check if you have a fever-"
Dean jerks out of Sam's reach. "Sam, I'm fine. Just spaced out for a sec. I don't have a fever," he says.
"I said I'm fine," Dean lies. "I'm fine."
Her eyes meet his.
----------
4 months later
She approaches Dean with wide eyes and a slightly panicked expression. She opens her mouth and speaks and Dean jerks back at her words.
"I said yes."
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