Born of Chaos and Grace

Chapter Four: Tension - Part I

The moment the shed is unlocked and the door open, Dean is ready to make a break for the front of the house where that infuriating woman is waiting, but Zach's hands gripping his shoulders hold him back. "Where is she? Is she okay? She is so dead for this!"

"Dean, she's fine – for the most part. Just go easy on her, okay? She doesn't need you getting mad at her right now, so cool it," Zach explains, keeping his hold on his brother firm.

"Like Hell I'll go easy on her. She can't do that kind of shit. She knows the consequences!" Dean grumbles and sends a small glare towards his younger brother.

"Dean." The warning laced in Zach's tone stops Dean from struggling, a sigh leaving him.

"Fine, I won't give her shit. Happy?" He lets the tension roll of his frame, hoping it will be enough to convince his brother of his innocent motives. Zach stares at him, distrust evident in his eyes. Another sigh escapes Dean's lips at the lack of faith his brother is showing in his skill of restraint. "I promise, all right? Can you please let me go so I can see her?"

Zach's face twists with hesitation, but he nods nonetheless and removes his hands so Dean can push past.

When Dean rounds the corner of the house, the first thing his sees is Laine.

Her arms are propped out behind her, supporting the rest of her body, as she rests on the steps of the front porch with her gaze trained intently down the road. All his previous anger about her locking him in the shed and going in by herself vanishes as relief spreads through him upon seeing her in one piece.

She catches sight of him and pushes off the steps in an attempt to stand, legs wobbling as she tries to gain proper balance. Dean reacts without pause and darts forward to catch her, arms wrapping around her body before she has time to fall over. He feels her hands rest on his back, gripping tight in the folds of his jacket as she buries her face against his chest.

"I'm sorry," Laine murmurs, the words muffled by his jacket.

Dean shakes his head, dismissing her apology, and instead enjoys the feel of her warm and very much alive body in his arms. When he steps back, his hold on her shoulder doesn't lessen as his support is helping her to stand, but it also serves as reassurance for him that she isn't going anywhere.

"Don't do that again. Ever," Dean warns, not letting her gaze stray from his.

Laine cracks a smile and lets out a laugh, her eyes sparkling with humour at his blatant concern for her well-being. "Not planning on it. Don't really fancy the whole getting stabbed in the leg thing."

All sense of joking is lost the moment the words are out of her mouth. Anger returns to Dean's face, his jaw tensing and mouth flattening into a line.

"You were stabbed?" His voice is steady, but he knows she can see the hostility hidden underneath his calm tone. He had been so relieved to see her alive he hadn't noticed the injury she is sporting on her thigh and the cuts on her cheek, which he sees now that he is paying attention.

"Dean, it's over. He's dead. There's nothing to get worked up over, and you can't change what's already happened," she says, nipping the conflict in the butt.

Dean sighs and instead of arguing with her, he lets the conversation drop and pulls her into his arms again, resting his chin on top of her head.

"I'm glad you're okay," Dean mumbles into her hair, silently hoping she won't hear him, but also wanting her to.

"Me too." She looks up at him with a dazzling smile that brightens every inch of her face when they step apart, and he can't help the grin that begins to crack through the stony façade on his face.