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English
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Published:
2013-11-18
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1,853
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1/1
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Leaving Scars

Summary:

Nora gets a visitor after she sends Steve home early. Dean needs a favor.

Notes:

Wow! Been a while since I actually wrote something! Not for lack of ideas or anything... just... apparently I really like outside perspectives!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The sharp tones of the bell over the door pulled Nora's attention from the day's dry goods order and she glanced up from her clipboard absently. "Afternoon," she called cheerfully, watching the first customer in over twenty minutes pause just inside to glance around the shop.


She frowned slightly when what started as a customary scan of the interior elongated into something more pointed as he twisted to check the storefront and gas pumps over his shoulder. A tiny swell of wariness twisted in her gut when she followed his gaze back up the deserted aisle to where she was standing as inconveniently far away from the silent alarm as she could possibly be. "Can I... help you?"


"Uh. Yeah," he finally sighed, shoulders dropping in something that could have been either relief or disappointment and starting toward her at a slow pace.  "Yeah, I—"


He dragged his palm over the back of his neck. Nora swallowed uneasily at the show of obvious discomfort, taking a tiny step back, before shadowed green eyes rose to meet hers and a dull sense of recognition bloomed.


"You're... Steve's friend... right?" she asked weakly, hoping that he was the guy she vaguely remembered seeing her sales associate glance at with such exasperated fondness because she couldn't really picture Steve hanging around twitchy men with penchants for holding up the local Gas 'n' Sip— she hoped, anyway.


"Yup," he said, pasting on one of the most strained smiles she'd ever seen, "That's me. Good ol' Steve."


Nora nibbled her bottom lip uncertainly. "He's not here right now," she said apologetically, "It's been a slow day and his wrist was bothering him so I sent him ho—"


"No, I know," he interrupted, stuffing his hands awkwardly into the pockets of his jeans, "I'm, uh... actually here for you." He must have caught the tiny spark of alarm in her eyes because he took a quick step back and threw his arms up in a placating gesture. "To talk to you." He corrected himself hurriedly. "Sorry. My brother always did used to say that my default mode is a little too close to creeper."


Nora's brows shot up. "Steve's your brother?" That had most certainly not been the vibe she'd gotten.


"What?" His face twisted from confusion through a flash of disgust and finally settled on forced levity. "No. God, no. He's— no."


They lapsed into an awkward silence and Nora took a second to study him under the pretense of scribbling a note for more soy sauce.


He looked tired. The man who had been trailing Steve through the store yesterday had been practically vibrating with suppressed glee, all smiles and eyes sparkling with adoration. The air around the two men had been thick with tension, but shot through with enough affection that Nora, firstly, hadn't introduced herself to her employee's guest like she normally would have and, secondly, hadn't commented on the length of his stay or the fact that Steve was still on the clock. When they'd left together, she'd been a little worried that she'd be down a babysitter that evening, what with the veiled glances they'd kept shooting each other... but Steve had turned up right on time, smile a bit strained and posture uncertain maybe, but she had a date and she hadn't given it much thought beyond that. Now here was his... friend... shuffling unhappily around the store when he could be spending the afternoon with Steve, dark bags under his haunted eyes and looking so lost it almost hurt just to see it.


A strain of lyrics tickled at the back of her head, an old favorite from after Tanya had been born and they'd moved to Idaho for a new start. '...And who do you think you are, running 'round leaving scars... collecting your jar of hearts...?' She pursed her lips sadly, watching green eyes dart down to where a dirty work boot was scuffing at her clean linoleum. The gesture sparked a memory of Steve doing the exact same thing when he'd first wandered into the store, curled in on himself, looking cold and lost, with a shattered heart in too blue eyes. 'You're gonna catch a cold from the ice inside your soul. So don't come back for me.... Don't come back at all.' Oh boy.


"Listen...." She started when her unexpected visitor glanced at her quickly as he spoke, shifting to lean against the counter next to the slushie machine. "Steve? He's... he's a good guy."


She blinked. "Um. Yes, I've picked up on that."


He gave a hollow chuckle, raising one hand to rub across his eyes tiredly. "I know, I know. It's just... he's... important, you know?" He licked his lips absently, poking at the bin of straws. "And not just to... you." He glanced up at her quickly before angling his body away and focusing all his attention on the condiments. "Or his friends or family, or— I mean... important. And not just in the normal, everyday one-in-a-million-nice-guy way, because he literally is one in a million." He sighed, drooping forward to rest his weight on his arms braced against the counter, and when he continued, his voice was exhausted and sounded too old for him. "And I think you get that, maybe, which is why...." A shadow swept through his eyes and he straightened up determinedly, turning to face her fully and meeting her confused gaze. "Look. I can't... be here. It's complete bullshit, but I can't be here with him and I can't take him home and he's a stubborn dickhead who would never call if he was the one in trouble because he—"


'I hear you're asking all around if I am anywhere to be found. But I have grown too strong to ever fall back in your arms.' Nora's breath hitched unhappily at the sudden new light this painted her favorite employee in. God, she'd been so willfully blind. 'I learned to live half a life....'


"Anyway, what I'm tryin' to say is... I can't keep an eye on him myself and I need— I need to know he's safe." He swallowed, eyes pleading, before a wry grin twisted his full lips. "Not that he can't take care of himself, 'cause believe me, I've met him in a dark alley and it sucked." He shook his head ruefully. "But he's my— I just... here."


He gestured questioningly at her pen and she handed it over after a second's hesitation, watching him dig a card out of his pocket and scribble something down. A moment later, he hooked the pen over the business card and held out both, making sure to keep his fingers on the far edge when she reached for it.


She glanced over the glossy seal, eyes widening as they traced the words Federal Bureau of Investigation before falling to the name. Lee Ermey - Special Agent was struck out and Dean was scrawled next to the line listing a cell phone number. Her stomach twisted unpleasantly. There was no way this man was FBI.


'Dean' hastened to step in as she looked him over once more, suspicious. "Hey, hey. I'm not askin' for a runnin' commentary or daily update or anything supremely creepy and stalkerish... just...." He pursed his lips, eyes pleading. "If something happens. If you maybe... notice something or he's acting a little weirder than normal." A tiny affectionate smile twisted the corners of his mouth before it straightened back into a firm line. "Please," he said weakly, and it sounded like something he didn't say very often. "Please, just... give me a call. Even— especially if it's something you can't believe."


Nora furrowed her brow in confusion. "Wha—?"


Dean interrupted. "You don't have to understand. It's better if you don't, honestly. Ca—" He grimaced. "Steve would never forgive me if something happened. I... I don't wanna do it this way. I wish—" He grit his teeth, frustrated. "I should be here myself. I should've— he shouldn't be here at all." Dean huffed unhappily before glancing searchingly over his shoulder toward the lot once more. "But this is where we are right now, so just... call? If anything weird goes down. If he ever seems scared or...." He bit back whatever he'd been about to say quickly, hand balling into a helpless fist at his side as he met her gaze squarely. "I need him to be safe. Please."


She swallowed, uncertainty and a hint of fear swirling in her gut. What could possibly make someone this afraid for sweet, unassuming Steve?


"Okay," she said weakly, fingers curling around the business card, "I'll.... Okay."


Dean let out a quick, relieved burst of air, squeezing his eyes shut for a split second. "Thank you," he murmured.


They stood in silence for a moment before he drew himself back up and shot her a strained smile.


"Well, gotta hit the road, lots of rubber to burn between here and—" He broke off, glancing idly at the glass doors of the beverage coolers across the way. "Say, I need a bit of a pick-me-up. I'm runnin' on about an hour of sleep and I've got a ways to go. Got anything?"


Wordlessly, Nora skirted around him and snatched a couple Five Hour Energies off the front counter. She dropped them into his open palm and waved him off when he went for his wallet. "Don't worry." She smiled weakly. "'Steve would never forgive me if something happened.'"


Dean blinked as she parroted his own words back at him and then gave a flat-sounding chuckle. "Aw, I'm sure he would," he mumbled, idly twisting the cap off the first energy drink, "Dunno if he'd even—"


"Dean."


His eyes shot up, a hint of shock crossing his face before he must have remembered that he'd written down the name for her.


She half reached out a sympathetic hand and then thought better of it. "Maybe you're right, and I don't need to understand. But one thing I do know.... Because I saw it— the way you looked at him." She smiled sadly as he jerked his head away almost shamefully. "And I saw the way he looked at you."


He furrowed his brows uncertainly.


"So believe me. He would never forgive me."


Dean opened his mouth to respond before snapping it shut again. He stared at her for a moment, eyes tracing her face, before a slow smile worked its way across his lips. He huffed a tiny breath of a laugh and shook his head.


The bell over the door jingled as a group of teenagers piled into the store and Dean turned on his heel, tossing a lazy wave over his shoulder as he skirted past the new arrivals and out into the early afternoon sunlight.

Nora watched him unlock the door of a vintage black car she remembered being parked across the street as Steve walked away from her house the night before. "Who do you think you are?" she whispered thoughtfully to herself, tucking the business card carefully into her pocket as the engine roared to life.

Notes:

More drabbles 'n' stuff on my tumblr