Warping to Destiny - A Supernatural FanFiction

Chapter 27 - I Know Why You Do It

Maggie's POV

We watched Katie and Sam go off happily to Sam's room. Both of us seemed a bit uncomfortable. I know I was. I said, "You wanted to talk to me?"

"Yeah," he said. "Let's go to the viewing room, it's more comfortable."

When we sat down on the couch we were on earlier, Dean started to say something several times, but didn't seem to be getting any words to actually leave his mouth. But finally he managed to start. "Look, Maggie," he said. "I like you. I really do like you. And I'm about to be more honest with you than I've ever been with a woman." He stopped again. "Except maybe Lisa, I don't even really remember."

"The things is, "He started again. "The thing is, I'm watching your sister and my brother, ya know, and they are seeming to be really happy and I'm happy for them, ya know what I mean?" He got up and started pacing, rubbing his hand through his hair."

"Dean?"

He came back and sat down and took both my hands in his, took a big breath and said, "What do you want Maggie? Because if what you want is what we are seeing with Sam and Katie, well….see, I just don't know if I can do that."

"Dean," I answered, "I'm not trying to make you do or feel anything you don't feel comfortable with. But I do like being with you."

"I like being with you too. To be honest, I've never known anyone at all like you." He got up and paced and sat down again. "But," he said, "and if you tell Sam I said this I'll deny it, it's pretty scary for me, especially right now."

I realized at once how hard that must have been for him to say. I said, "Dean, I lost the love of my life and my precious child. I am terrified of taking that road again. And with you, of all people, someone who lives your kind of life, who can be taken away from me at any time. And all of a sudden I don't know how to act around you. And I don't know if I can love you either, not really. So I don't think you're feeling a whole lot different than I am, except that you have other worries as well. Really scary worries."

"God, you are so easy to talk to. And so beautiful." He was looking at me differently all of a sudden. Then he got up and paced again. I don't know what made me do it, but I picked up a throw pillow from the couch and threw it at him. He picked it up and threw it back. All of a sudden we were both grabbing pillows and throwing them at each other and then hitting each other with them. We both started laughing so hard we had tears.

When it seemed we were tiring, we started circling each other, holding our pillows, and I was holding my side too, because I was getting a stitch in it. I must have dropped my guard for just a split second because before I knew what was happening he had pounced on me, picked me up and threw me onto the couch. He fell on top of me and then we were kissing and tearing off each others clothes.

But if I was expecting a repeat of the passionate, almost animalistic sex we had had the first time, I was dead wrong. I soon realized he was holding me in a loving, gentle embrace, his hands caressing me softly and slowly, and I began to return the favor. Our kisses went on almost without pause. And I knew, without a doubt, that this awesome, wonderful, sarcastic, irritating and extremely sexy man loved me. He loved me whether he would ever admit it or not. But he lived his life in denial, so what else was new?

Our lovemaking was just the opposite of what it had been at the motel. Gentle, sweet, loving. He was very good at it, no surprise there, and I found myself responding in a way I hadn't since...well since. I felt something break loose in me, some wall I had built up to put my feelings behind for safe keeping. I felt it burst free, and I started crying as I came, and holding onto him for dear life.

He held me till I stopped crying. Then he got up off of me, and picked me up. To my amazement, he carried me through the bunker, hardly watching where he was going as he was still kissing me, and soon we were in his own room. He laid me gently on the bed, got me all worked up himself, and this time we came together in sweet, wonderful bliss.

He held me for a while, softly caressing my hair and my face. Giving me sweet tender kisses. Then he asked me if I was thirsty and I nodded. He got up, gabbed a pair of jeans out of a drawer and put them on. "Don't go anywhere, I'll be right back," he said, and left the room.

I had to laugh to myself as I wondered how I was expected to go anywhere without my clothes. Even though I knew it was very unlikely I would run into Sam, you never did know. Almost before he left he was back with two cold beers and a bag of chips. He handed them to me and then went into his bathroom and got a towel, which he also handed to me. "You might be more comfortable wrapping yourself in the towel," he said, "though I'm fine with it the way you are."

His flirty smile and tone set me at ease, and I felt he was too, at least for now. But I did wrap the towel around me, and sat up on the bed, cross-legged, while he laid down across the bottom of the bed, leaning his head on his hand. He was watching me intently as we drank our beers and munched on chips.

Then he said, "Maggie," really softly, and I knew something was coming. I looked at him, waiting for him to continue.

"Tell me about your scars," he said.

I shrugged. "Not much to tell," I said. "We told you how we had knife fights in the gang."

He nodded slowly. "Yeah," he said. "But tell me about the ones on the insides of your thighs. The ones that couldn't get there from a knife fight. The ones that are much newer than six to ten years."

A wave of fear washed over me. I tried to speak, but nothing came out. I looked away from him, ashamed.

Still speaking ever so softly and calmly, he said, "You cut, don't you Maggie?"

I kept looking away from him, still unable to speak. "Does Katie know?" he asked.

I shook my head no.

"Can I let you in on a secret?" I turned to look at him questioningly. "I know why you do it. It's the same reason that I fight monsters. I'm happiest when the fight gets me all torn up. When I'm all cut up and bleeding. Because then I can concentrate on the physical pain I'm feeling, and for however long that pain hurts me, I get some blessed relief from other pain, worse pain, pain I can barely stand."

He looked at me, and I looked at him for a long time. He was doing a lot of thinking. He'd shake his head, he'd bite his lip, he'd throw out a humorless chuckle. I still couldn't talk. "Maggie," he said finally, "Maybe we can't love each other, I don't know. But I do believe maybe we belong together. And someone, somewhere, knew that. Think we can work with that for a while?"

I nodded. I hoped I didn't look as scared as I was feeling. He reached for my bottle, grabbed the chip bag and got up and put them on the dresser. He reached for my hands and pulled me up off the bed, turned down the covers, put me back in bed and pulled the covers up. Then he went around to the to the other side and got in bed with me. He pulled me to him silently, and held me with my head on his shoulder. There didn't seem to be any further need for talking.