Chapter Text
Lisa was heading to her job. Her boss had already called her to ask when she was coming to work, and Lisa didn't want anyone to suspect that Dean and her had had a fight as big as this one. She didn't want anyone to know she was having an affair with the grocer's son. Maybe people knew already, but appearances were very important to Lisa. Which is why she had wanted Dean to stop seeing his aunts.
They were odd people! How could she be seen going to their house? Or them coming to hers, and have dinner, or secret Santa, or birthday parties? No, Lisa did not want that. She liked Dean, he was a damn sexy man and sweet as a cinnamon roll, but not so much to endure the judging looks from the townsfolk. Why had she cheated on him, she wasn't sure. He had kept to his word to never speak to Pamela and Ellen ever again, though Lisa knew he still wrote to his brother, but the man had left his family to pursuit a different life, so Sam was ok for Lisa. He never mentioned or made magic, but Lisa just couldn't make herself look at him as a normal guy. She always looked at him and saw the large list of Winchesters behind him that were evil sorcerers and a cursed family. And he still had this weird behaviours sometimes. Like the last four days, he looked so pale and lost, since they fought about her cheating, and she thought it was because of it, that he looked that way, but she caught him at least five times turning the house upside down looking for something, muttering stuff about curses and insects. It had creeped the math out of Lisa.
Perhaps it had been that. She would have wanted a regular man, but she hadn't been able to stop herself from running to his arms. She just didn't really love him, and she needed an escape. That was it. Not an excuse, but it made her ease her mind from thinking she was a horrible person. You can't make someone love another person, right? And you couldn't just choose who you fell for!
She had lied, it would have been easier to just tell Dean that maybe it wouldn't work, and that they shouldn't marry. That he could go running back to his aunties and be with them forever.
Sick...
No stop those thoughts, you're just angry. With him? With yourself? Who cares. It's over anyways.
She had not wanted to hurt Dean so. She found it difficult to stop herself from doing certain stuff, and the grocer's son arms were so warm and his lips so full and sweet, and Lisa's head was light when the man kissed her and took her and...
She should have stopped when she knew she was pregnant with Ben. She knew he wasn't Dean's. They had stopped having sex because Lisa was always so tired, from screwing with the other guy. She would probably give Dean a hand job, or, if he was lucky enough, she'd blow him, and Dean would count that as sex because he knew Lisa worked hard and came back home tired, and he was an understanding husband. So no, Ben wasn't Dean's.
Oh, how did she get to this point? She only hoped her next life wouldn't demand a payback.
She was about to get to her job. She had taken the suburbs way, which is longer, on purpose to have this small time with her thoughts before arriving to the loud environment of her job. She parked across the shop because it seemed like a busy day full of customers with their cars right in front of the shop. She walked towards it, not really noticing anyting around her.
She could only hope Dean would find a girl that loved him as he was because she just cou---
"Hello?"
"Mr Dean Winchester?"
"Yes this is he."
"We're calling from Mercy's Hospital."
"What happened?"
"Is Ms Lisa Braeden-Winchester your wife?"
"Yes, is she alright?"
"We are very sorry, Mr Winchester. You better come to the hospital"
Dean hung up after the dead line sound from the other side of the phone had hurt his ear.
Was Lisa...
No she couldn't be.
Or could she...
Should he go see her?
He wasn't sure he wanted to see her...
She might be dead, for fuck's sake!
Still, Dean did not know if he wanted to look at her face...
He rubbed his face and smacked his head from having those doubts. He might not want to see Lisa, but she was his wife and he had a duty. He grabbed Ben and dropped him with his aunts, and then went to the hospital as fast as he could. On his way there, he couldn't help to feel the heavy weight making his back hurt so much lighten a little. But it wasn't until he got to the hospital, when he was looking at his wife's dead body in front of him, pale and cold and still, lying on the metal bed, that the weight was thrown off his shoulders. Something collapsed inside his body, and he convulsed with the urge to throw up. He had to excuse himself and run to the first bathroom he could find, and growl at the nurse man who was washing his hands. Now that he was alone, under white bright lights hurting his eyeballs, and the muffled sound of the speaker outside as the only source of reality he could get at the moment, he broke, sitting on the floor, wondering why the hell did he feel relieved if she was dead.