Work Text:
Days like this are harder than others.
No roads to drive. No monsters to kill. No Angels or Demons knocking down our door.
We clean, restock, do laundry, shop. And in between the mundane and minutiae, the sun continues to rise and set.
Sometimes it's nice, all the quiet. Time to do all those things you'd do once you had it. Movies to watch, books to read, cards to play.
But sometimes the quiet is so empty that nothing seems to fill it. And all of those thoughts you'd tucked away - all the sad, horrific, nostalgic, and bad - crawl out from their hiding place in your brain and begin dancing to the beat of the silence.
It's days like this - where the morning hours bleed out into the night's, when the sun isn't shining and I feel as though I've lost too many pieces of myself - when I need him the most.
There's no banter, not much conversation beyond simple questions answered with a single word. There's just me, nestled against his chest, ensnared in the arm he's wrapped around my shoulder.
I curl into him. The plain, white t-shirt he's wearing is soft, if not a little thin, against my cheek. Then I nuzzle into him and inhale his scent - gun oil, coffee, and honey-drizzled sandalwood. Dean's fingers stroke the back of my neck, and I listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against my ear.
His touch is comforting. Every breath he takes is reassuring. Right here and right now, with my body warm and pressed against his, I'm safe. Nothing can touch us except one another. And in this space, I begin to think of everything that brought me here, that brought Dean and I together: so much pain, so much blood, so much neglect and destruction and guilt. This is the road we met on, and onward we stumble - hand in hand.
And all of the pain I carry inside of me - poignant, aching, and cold - begins to bloom, and Dean is the only person who knows how to let me fall apart.
My next breath is deep and leaves in a shudder; we're as close as can be, but he manages to pull me even closer. When my teardrops start to pool on his shirt, he kisses the top of my head and tells me he loves me. His words and his touch, his solid presence and his love, all coax me to let go, let myself fall. When the sobs I've been confining finally break loose, he only holds me tighter.
Sometimes I'll babble. Or scream. Sometimes it's just tears. Whatever it is, he knows what to do. He doesn't shrink away. He doesn't try to fix it. He lets me be whatever I need to be.
Finally, when my tears have stopped, and I return to the space and time that is now - here, in Dean's arms - he lets me go just enough to kiss me gently and quietly. I look into his eyes - eyes that have seen unimaginable horror yet still shine bright, loving, and hopeful - and simply whisper, "thank you".
***
"And so, today my world it smiles
Your hand in mine, we walk the miles
Thanks to you, it will be done
For you to me are the only one
Alright, there
Happiness, no more be sad
Happiness, I'm glad
If the sun refused to shine
I would still be loving you
Mountains crumble to the sea
There will still be you and me"