we weren't lovers
just brave strangers

brave strangers, bob seger

chapter seven

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SOMETIMES MACK'S ribs still hurt. It's not often, not enough to bother her. It's a simple dull ache in the background, getting stronger if she thinks about it too hard. Most of the time, she pretends it's not there. The rest of her healed just fine. Most of the time, it works.

Not tonight, though.

The nightmare isn't anything new. Michael's strung her up again, playing his classic torture game. This time, there's something different about it. It's hard to tell. The line between Dean and Michael is exceptionally blurry.

It takes her breath away to realize that there's nothing Michael about him. It's simply Dean, from the way he's dressed all the way down to how he looks at her. But Dean wouldn't. Dean would never.

Except he does. And he doesn't stop. He doesn't stop until she feels like she's actually dying–

And then she wakes up.

It takes her a minute to notice the pain. Not until she's standing, and it winds her. It's like she'd been thrown into a wall already, every breath makes the ache stronger. She pauses with her hands on her ribs, breathing deeply. Her hands do nothing to soothe the pain.

She locks herself in the bathroom and splashes cold water on her face. She can feel her heart racing, though she's not sure why. Her breath starts to pick up. Her hands come to rest on her ribs once again.

She starts pacing back and forth as she tries to slow her breathing. Tears well in her eyes as her thoughts keep racing and racing.

Dean would never hurt her. She knows that. She hates herself for doubting it, even for a second.

It's her dreams that scare her the most. She can't trust them.

She blinks back her tears as her breath slows.

Pull yourself together, Catherine. You'll be fine.

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SHE GOES back to her room and wraps herself in a blanket. She sits on the floor instead of her bed, curling in on herself. She doesn't mean to isolate herself, truly. She just needs a minute alone.

Barely a few minutes pass before she hears a gentle knock on her door. When she opens it, Dean stands there.

"Hey," he says. "Uh, are you busy?"

She shakes her head. "Not really. Everything okay?"

"Yeah. Just, uh...I come bearing gifts." He raises his hand to show the six pack she hadn't noticed. She grins softly.

"You trying to get me drunk, Winchester?"

"Please, like you'll get drunk off a couple beers." He matches her grin as he brushes past her into the room. She closes the door behind him.

She returns to her spot on the floor, gesturing for him to join her. He hands her the pack of beer and sits next to her. She pulls the blanket back over her shoulders and pops open a beer.

"How come you're in here and not out there with everyone else?" She asks.

He shrugs. "Too many people."

She nods.

"Can I ask you something?" He says.

"Sure."

"What did you mean when you said Jack was like Bobby? Being a double, or whatever. There wasn't another one of him running around over there, was there?"

"No, not exactly. Uh, it's kind of...complicated."

He watches her, waiting for her to continue. She sighs and sips her beer.

"His name was Leo. He looked exactly like Jack, maybe older, a bit scruffier. I don't– I don't know how it works. They're not the same person. The first time I met Jack, Leo had been dead for about three years. Imagine my surprise to see him, then to learn it's not him at all."

"That's...I don't even know what that is."

"Insane, maybe?"

He chuckles gently, raising the bottle to his mouth. "That's one word for it."

She sits up straighter, turning her body to face him. "It doesn't make any sense to me, y'know? Because I knew Mary too. Mary Campbell, and your mom is still...I don't know. She's different, but she's still her."

"You knew her, too?"

She nods.

"So, what happened to him? Leo?"

She leans back against the wall, fidgeting with the bottle in her hands. "The same thing that happened to everyone. Michael."

"I'm sorry."

She shrugs. "That's the life, right?"

"Doesn't make it any easier." She stays quiet for a few moments, until he speaks again. "So, were you and him, like...I don't know. You two ever...?" He attempts to gesture with his hands, then gives up.

She scoffs a laugh. "Uh, no. He was with Cristina. He was basically a brother to me."

"Right. Have you ever, uh...I don't know."

"Is there a question in there?"

He shakes his head, taking a long sip of his drink. "You ever been in love?"

She pauses, taking her own drink. "No. You?"

He shrugs. "Maybe once. I don't know. Nothing that lasted. Nothing real."

"Think you will?"

"Maybe. Maybe once we take down Michael and our life becomes some semblance of normal. You?"

She sighs. "I don't know. Has 'normal' ever been in the cards for us?"

He chuckles softly. "That's a good point."

She grins. "Could you imagine, though? Me, living the American Dream. House husband, picket fence, maybe a dog."

"Oh, yeah, I'm picturing it clearly. You're like the perfect soccer mom."

"Please. I am not mother material." She didn't intend for the statement to sound so depressing, but somehow it managed to come out that way.

"You're not bad with Jack."

His statement catches her off guard. "Really?"

"The kid practically worships you."

She looks down at her hands as her thoughts start to spin. She'd never really thought about kids, even before the war. It was never something she wanted. She'd never wanted to be the one responsible for how someone turns out. Then she thinks about her own parents, her own mother. She'd hate to turn out like her.

But she thinks about Jack, and she thinks, maybe Dean's right. She'd die for him. She's protective over him in a way she's never been with anyone, even Cristina.

Dean starts to say something else, but she doesn't hear it. Her eyes are scanning the room as she realizes there's no windows in the bunker, and she suddenly feels hot. Her breath picks up, just slightly. She doesn't know why her thoughts won't stop racing.

She feels small in her spot in the corner. The walls are too tall, and she feels like the air is slowly draining from the room.

She flinches when Dean touches her shoulder. "Mack? You alright?"

Somehow she breathes a little easier at the sight of his face. "Uh, yeah. Sorry, what were you saying?"

"You sure you're okay?" She can read the concern all over his face. It almost makes her uneasy.

She nods. "I'm okay."

He seems unconvinced. He sets aside his beer and gets to his feet. "All right, come on." He holds out a hand to her.

"What are you doing?" A grin skims the edges of her mouth as he raises his eyebrows.

"Just come on. I want to show you something."

She takes his hand and he pulls her up.

"Bring those." He gestures to the six pack on the floor. She quickly grabs it and follows him from the room.

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HE LEADS her all the way to the garage, and to the Impala. He doesn't say much as he urges her into the car, and she doesn't ask. He simply hands her the box of cassette tapes as he puts the car in drive and starts away from the bunker.

She picks a Bob Seger album, Stranger In Town. Dean tries to hide his grin at her choice.

They drive with the windows down, the radio drowning out the noise. She has no idea where he's taking her. He could be taking her anywhere and she wouldn't care. She trusts him completely.

She may not trust her mind, but she trusts Dean.

They eventually roll to a stop at a wide empty field. The radio still blasts, and Dean only turns the dial louder before grabbing the six pack and getting out. She follows suit, meeting him at the hood of the car.

"Me and Sammy used to do this all the time," he says. "We'd just park somewhere with no one else around, no streetlights, and a pack of beer. Makes for a good time and a great view." He grins and hands her a bottle. She takes it as her eyes stray upwards.

The view takes her breath away. The stars on full display, shining in a way she hasn't seen in a long time.

"Wow," she breathes. Dean's still watching her when she returns her gaze to him. He simply grins and sips his beer.

They both climb onto the hood of the car and lean back against the windshield.

Mack starts to chuckle to herself. "I can't believe you brought me stargazing."

"Honestly, I was just itching to get out of there for a while. Seems like you were too."

She grins softly. They can still clearly hear the music with the windows down, and they can feel every beat vibrating below them.

She closes her eyes just for a second. She has to savor the moment before it ends, despite how much she just wants to lose herself in the stars.

She feels Dean's presence leave her side, but she doesn't open her eyes. It's not until she hears the car door open and the song change that she opens them. Dean comes around to her side as the opening chords of We've Got Tonight echoes around them. He holds out a hand. She tries and fails to suppress her smile.

"Are you asking me to dance, Winchester?"

He shrugs. "Humor me for a second."

She laughs gently and sits up, setting aside her drink and hopping off the car. She takes his hand. "Lead the way."

He leads her out into the field, just far enough to where they can still perfectly hear the music.

"I'll have you know I can't dance for shit," she says.

"Me either. Good thing it's just us out here, right?"

Her right hand stays in his left, and her other hand comes to rest on his shoulders. His free hand moves to her waist, and it sends a chill up her spine. They start to move together, neither of them breaking their gaze. A grin rests on each of their faces. It's less dancing, more swaying, but she wouldn't change a thing.

She tries not to focus on how his fingers feel against the curve of her waist, instead pouring all her attention on the way the stars brighten up his emerald eyes.

"You know how cliché this is, right?" she says, her grin not faltering.

"Shut up, you love it."

She laughs, and he laughs with her.

"You're ridiculous, Winchester." She finally breaks their gaze by leaning her head against his shoulder. He pauses for a second, seemingly not expecting it. He melts into it just as quickly, his hand snaking around to the small of her back. Her breath catches just for a second.

They don't move as the song ends, and bleeds into the next one, Brave Strangers. Dean starts to hum along to the song, and Mack closes her eyes.

Everything fades away except the feel of his arms and the sound of his voice. All the shit they're dealing with, Michael, monster experiments, none of it matters anymore. She could live in this moment forever if it meant she never had to let go.

She opens her eyes as the last song starts to play, The Famous Final Scene. She doesn't dare move.

"Dean," she says in barely a whisper. She's not even sure he heard her. Then he hums in acknowledgement.

"I trust you." It's a little louder this time, her voice a little shakier. "It scares the hell out of me, but I trust you."

She swears he stops breathing.

Eventually, he says, "You shouldn't."

She pulls away so she can look at him. "I do."

Their gazes bore into each other's, and his eyes tell her he's just as scared as she is. Then he gives her a small weary but genuine smile.

"Okay."

She returns his grin. Her hand leaves his as she wraps her arms around his neck. His arms automatically follow suit, wrapping around her waist. At some point they stopped moving, and now they simply stand there holding each other. He buries his face in her shoulder, and she closes her eyes. She doesn't say anything in order to savor the feeling of him against her.

"Thank you for this," she breathes after a while.

"Anytime."

Time fades away. They could've been there for hours, or minutes.

Dean's the first to move. He hardly takes a hand off her, just moving his hands to her shoulders so he can face her.

"I, uh–" The sound of his phone ringing prevents him from saying anything else. He sighs in annoyance and pulls it out, barely glancing at the screen before answering. Mack takes a step back.

He talks quickly, basic answers and conversation, then hangs up.

"That was Sam. He needs help with research for something."

"We should probably get back anyway. It's getting late."

"Right."

They go back to the car together, cleaning up their half-drank six pack and climbing back into the car.

"You're picking the music this time." 

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author's note !!

they're my babies. u don't understand how much they mean to me fr.

anyways this chapter is probably ooc but i literally don't care cause it was needed. they deserve some soft moments ok

also i realize that the songs i picked are not exactly made for slow dancing but let's just ignore that thank yew 

i love u all and i love my deancath, please leave comments and votes if u love them too <3

thanks for reading!!

-skye