When Taylor awoke, the sun was rising. Momentarily confused, she realised she had slept through the day, and the night.
Dean had bandaged her arm for her – he had a surprisingly well stocked first aid kit in his trunk… not as surprising as the mini arsenal in there with it, though.
Afterwards, they had driven to the nearest town with a police precinct. Sam, Dean and Taylor had stood back and let Flack do the talking. The officers were concerned about the six children, but when Flack had flashed his ID, they didn’t ask any more questions than was necessary. All the other three had to do was agree with Flack’s story – that they had found the six children walking in the middle of the road, being scared, they had attacked the four of them, and they had then had to be knocked unconscious for safety’s sake. The flooding of Centralia was simply a mystery to them.
By the middle of the afternoon, they had finally made it out of the precinct and to the nearest motel. Which inconveniently only had one free room. Too exhausted to care, the four of them had taken it and all passed out on the only bed in the room.
Not finding the need to deal with the sunlight, Taylor shut her eyes and snuggled back into Flack’s arms, which simply hugged her tighter. Taylor smiled contentedly as she breathed in a deep breath of air… and a scent that wasn’t Flack’s. She flicked her eyes open with a frown and found a somewhat amused looking Flack and Sam sat at the room’s table, drinking coffee, watching her.
Taylor eyes moved from Flack’s smirk to the arms wrapped around her. Slowly, she turned her head, knowing before she did exactly who the arms belonged to. Dean was completely fast asleep.
Taylor rolled her eyes and tried to wriggle away. The grip just tightened. She turned her head back to Sam and Flack, who were both laughing. Taylor narrowed her eyes and glared at Flack. “You’re supposed to stop random guys doing this to your girlfriend.”
Flack just laughed harder.
“Dean has this killer death grip when he sleeps,” Sam chuckled.
“Why are you not bothered by this?” Taylor demanded, still glaring at her supposed boyfriend.
“Because I’m glad that’s not me anymore. Besides, I trust you.”
“Dean isn’t all that particular with who he sleeps with,” Sam quipped.
“I have standards, Sammy,” Dean muttered, slowly rousing from his sleep. As he realised what he was doing, he leapt away like he had had an electric shock. Taylor moved to the other side of the bed and moved to a sitting position, leaning back against the headboard. “Dude!” Dean exclaimed looking over at Flack, “I’m sorry.”
Flack just laughed at him.
Dean had bandaged her arm for her – he had a surprisingly well stocked first aid kit in his trunk… not as surprising as the mini arsenal in there with it, though.
Afterwards, they had driven to the nearest town with a police precinct. Sam, Dean and Taylor had stood back and let Flack do the talking. The officers were concerned about the six children, but when Flack had flashed his ID, they didn’t ask any more questions than was necessary. All the other three had to do was agree with Flack’s story – that they had found the six children walking in the middle of the road, being scared, they had attacked the four of them, and they had then had to be knocked unconscious for safety’s sake. The flooding of Centralia was simply a mystery to them.
By the middle of the afternoon, they had finally made it out of the precinct and to the nearest motel. Which inconveniently only had one free room. Too exhausted to care, the four of them had taken it and all passed out on the only bed in the room.
Not finding the need to deal with the sunlight, Taylor shut her eyes and snuggled back into Flack’s arms, which simply hugged her tighter. Taylor smiled contentedly as she breathed in a deep breath of air… and a scent that wasn’t Flack’s. She flicked her eyes open with a frown and found a somewhat amused looking Flack and Sam sat at the room’s table, drinking coffee, watching her.
Taylor eyes moved from Flack’s smirk to the arms wrapped around her. Slowly, she turned her head, knowing before she did exactly who the arms belonged to. Dean was completely fast asleep.
Taylor rolled her eyes and tried to wriggle away. The grip just tightened. She turned her head back to Sam and Flack, who were both laughing. Taylor narrowed her eyes and glared at Flack. “You’re supposed to stop random guys doing this to your girlfriend.”
Flack just laughed harder.
“Dean has this killer death grip when he sleeps,” Sam chuckled.
“Why are you not bothered by this?” Taylor demanded, still glaring at her supposed boyfriend.
“Because I’m glad that’s not me anymore. Besides, I trust you.”
“Dean isn’t all that particular with who he sleeps with,” Sam quipped.
“I have standards, Sammy,” Dean muttered, slowly rousing from his sleep. As he realised what he was doing, he leapt away like he had had an electric shock. Taylor moved to the other side of the bed and moved to a sitting position, leaning back against the headboard. “Dude!” Dean exclaimed looking over at Flack, “I’m sorry.”
Flack just laughed at him.
* * *
A couple of hours later, several showers, and even more cups of coffee, everyone was finally feeling better. Outside, Dean and Taylor had their heads in Taylor’s car’s engine finishing the repair on the radiator, whilst Flack and Sam were inside checking out. “All done,” said Taylor with a sigh, as she poured some water into the radiator. As soon as it had been refilled, she dropped the hood and sighed, leaning back against it to wait for Flack.
Dean did the same thing. “So not all ghosts are evil, then?”
Taylor shook her head. “And there are such things as demons.” It was more of a statement than a question, but the past twenty four hours had seemed like nothing short of a very bad dream.
“There are other things that go bump in the night,” Dean confirmed.
Taylor sighed. “Makes me glad that I only have to deal with ghosts, who, for the large part, are harmless.”
“You’re lucky, really. If you had seen what I have…”
Taylor cut him off. “I don’t want to know. It was bad enough having to deal with an exorcism.”
Dean’s mouth dropped open. “You had to deal with an exorcism?” Taylor nodded. “And what does boyfriend have to say about that?”
Taylor stared at her feet, “I haven’t actually told him, yet.”
Dean nodded. He shifted so that he was looking at her, “I’m sorry I shot you.”
Taylor nodded, looking down at the big, ugly, purple bruise that was peaking out from behind the straps on her camisole underneath her jacket. Dean stared at her. “What?”
“This is the part where you apologise for slapping me.”
Taylor rolled her eyes, “You kissed me, doofas.”
“Doofas? What is this? Sixth grade?” Dean smirked. He leant over, “And I’d do it again,” he whispered in her ear.
“Yeah,” Taylor smirked. “And I’d have no qualms with slapping you again.”
Dean grinned, “You ever get bored of the detective…you give me a call.”
Taylor laughed, “Don’t hold your breath.”
“You’ll realise that you’ve made a mistake one day.”
“You’ll be the first on the list for the wedding invitation,” Taylor shot back at him.
“Will I have to wear a suit?” Taylor nodded. Dean shook his head, “I’m not a suit kinda guy.”
“Shame,” Taylor told him, a smile shaping her lips, “I love a man in a suit.”
Dean winked at her, “For you, maybe I could wear a suit.”
“Can I ask you something?” Taylor asked suddenly.
“Of course you can name your first born after me, Drew.”
“Drew?” she sighed. “Not you too. And that’s not what I was going to ask,” she looked at the ground, “How do you deal with it all – I mean, the dead bodies, the ghosts… the things you see?”
Next to her, Dean held his hands up. “Nuh-uh, I don’t do this chick-flick, pour-your-heart-out, cry-on-my-shoulder nonsense. If you need to talk, talk to Sam. He’s good at that.”
Taylor looked at him, and then looked away with a sigh, “Sorry.” Taylor looked back to the motel, waiting for Flack to come out. She snapped her head back to Dean when she felt something being placed around her neck.
“It’s supposed to ward away evil,” Dean told her.
Taylor looked down. He had given her his necklace. “Thank you.”
Dean shrugged. And then the flirty smile was back, “Didn’t have a ring handy – I had to stake my claim on you somehow.”
Taylor rolled her eyes, “You always got to ruin the moment?” She gave him a grin, before wrapping her arms around him.
“Should I be worried?” The two broke apart and found Flack and Sam watching them.
“Dude, she’s been inviting me to your wedding – I don’t think you have to worry about anything.”
Flack arched an eyebrow, but didn’t comment.
“Where are you going now?” Taylor asked the brothers.
Sam shrugged. “We’re trying to find our dad. Anywhere between here and there.”
Taylor smiled, “I hope you find him.”
“If you’re ever in New York,” said Flack. “Please don’t visit. No offence, but I don’t think I can cope with any more demons.”
Dean and Sam laughed, “Have a safe trip back.”
They said their goodbyes and got into their respective cars, gave each other a final wave before heading out in the opposite directions. A few miles down the road, Flack turned to Taylor. “He’s invited to our wedding?”
Dean did the same thing. “So not all ghosts are evil, then?”
Taylor shook her head. “And there are such things as demons.” It was more of a statement than a question, but the past twenty four hours had seemed like nothing short of a very bad dream.
“There are other things that go bump in the night,” Dean confirmed.
Taylor sighed. “Makes me glad that I only have to deal with ghosts, who, for the large part, are harmless.”
“You’re lucky, really. If you had seen what I have…”
Taylor cut him off. “I don’t want to know. It was bad enough having to deal with an exorcism.”
Dean’s mouth dropped open. “You had to deal with an exorcism?” Taylor nodded. “And what does boyfriend have to say about that?”
Taylor stared at her feet, “I haven’t actually told him, yet.”
Dean nodded. He shifted so that he was looking at her, “I’m sorry I shot you.”
Taylor nodded, looking down at the big, ugly, purple bruise that was peaking out from behind the straps on her camisole underneath her jacket. Dean stared at her. “What?”
“This is the part where you apologise for slapping me.”
Taylor rolled her eyes, “You kissed me, doofas.”
“Doofas? What is this? Sixth grade?” Dean smirked. He leant over, “And I’d do it again,” he whispered in her ear.
“Yeah,” Taylor smirked. “And I’d have no qualms with slapping you again.”
Dean grinned, “You ever get bored of the detective…you give me a call.”
Taylor laughed, “Don’t hold your breath.”
“You’ll realise that you’ve made a mistake one day.”
“You’ll be the first on the list for the wedding invitation,” Taylor shot back at him.
“Will I have to wear a suit?” Taylor nodded. Dean shook his head, “I’m not a suit kinda guy.”
“Shame,” Taylor told him, a smile shaping her lips, “I love a man in a suit.”
Dean winked at her, “For you, maybe I could wear a suit.”
“Can I ask you something?” Taylor asked suddenly.
“Of course you can name your first born after me, Drew.”
“Drew?” she sighed. “Not you too. And that’s not what I was going to ask,” she looked at the ground, “How do you deal with it all – I mean, the dead bodies, the ghosts… the things you see?”
Next to her, Dean held his hands up. “Nuh-uh, I don’t do this chick-flick, pour-your-heart-out, cry-on-my-shoulder nonsense. If you need to talk, talk to Sam. He’s good at that.”
Taylor looked at him, and then looked away with a sigh, “Sorry.” Taylor looked back to the motel, waiting for Flack to come out. She snapped her head back to Dean when she felt something being placed around her neck.
“It’s supposed to ward away evil,” Dean told her.
Taylor looked down. He had given her his necklace. “Thank you.”
Dean shrugged. And then the flirty smile was back, “Didn’t have a ring handy – I had to stake my claim on you somehow.”
Taylor rolled her eyes, “You always got to ruin the moment?” She gave him a grin, before wrapping her arms around him.
“Should I be worried?” The two broke apart and found Flack and Sam watching them.
“Dude, she’s been inviting me to your wedding – I don’t think you have to worry about anything.”
Flack arched an eyebrow, but didn’t comment.
“Where are you going now?” Taylor asked the brothers.
Sam shrugged. “We’re trying to find our dad. Anywhere between here and there.”
Taylor smiled, “I hope you find him.”
“If you’re ever in New York,” said Flack. “Please don’t visit. No offence, but I don’t think I can cope with any more demons.”
Dean and Sam laughed, “Have a safe trip back.”
They said their goodbyes and got into their respective cars, gave each other a final wave before heading out in the opposite directions. A few miles down the road, Flack turned to Taylor. “He’s invited to our wedding?”
* * *
It was at three o’clock the following day that Taylor’s phone rang. She picked it up and looked at the ID. Instead of a name, there was a number: 1-866-907-3235. Not having a clue who it was, she answered it hesitantly, “Hello?”
“Drew?”
“No… Taylor,” she frowned. The voice was familiar.
“Ah, I have got the right number. Drew, it’s Dean.”
“Oh my god, is everything alright?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
Taylor’s eyes narrowed. “How did you get this number?”
“I’m a detective.”
Taylor laughed, “No, you’re not. So what is this about?”
There was a long pause down the phone, “I… uh… I just, uh, wanted you to know, that uh, if you need to talk, I’m here.”
“I thought you let Sam do the talking?”
“Yeah, and he says hi, by the way, but,” if Dean was standing in front of her, she figured he’d be staring at the floor by now, “I’ll listen.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but, uh, you might not get the best response from me.”
“Why?” Taylor asked suspiciously.
“I told you, I don’t do talking.”
“No, I mean, why listen now? Why wouldn’t you talk yesterday?”
“Several reasons. To get Sam to stop nagging, I kinda felt bad, and it sounds like you don’t talk to anyone anyway.”
Taylor sighed and sank into the couch, “You’re right. I don’t.”
“Why don’t you talk to that boyfriend of yours?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just don’t” know how to. He’s dealt with death for years, and I’m new to it. And how do you start a conversation like that? Hi, honey, how was your day? Mine was alright except for the fact I saw another ghost, only this time, it was of a child and she had been starved to death. Yeah, that’s a great conversation starter…”
A good few hours later, and Taylor was feeling like a small weight she hadn’t even realised was there, had been lifted off her chest. True to his word, Dean wasn’t much of a talker, but as he had been driving through Indiana, with Sam fast asleep next to him, he had listened to everything she had poured down the phone.
“Thanks, Dean.”
“No worries. Look,” there was a pause, “Are we done with all this pouring-your-heart-out crap?”
Several hundred miles away Taylor found herself smiling. “Yeah.”
“Good, because, and no offence, but next time, you’re talking to Sam.”
“You know, Dean, if you ever want the favour returned, you can always just call,” Taylor told him with a small smile.
“Um, not likely to happen. I don’t do talking.”
“No, but when you do, I’ll listen.”
Hey, Taylor?”
“Yeah?”
“You still with your boyfriend?”
Taylor rolled her eyes, “No, we had a huge fight and split up,” she told him dryly.
Dean chuckled, “I knew you two weren’t meant to be. ” He grew serious, “Look, Taylor, I joke around, but the guy trusts you. And you trust him. Maybe you should have this conversation with him.”
“You know what, maybe you’re right.”
“I’ve got to go. Sam’s stirring – I don’t want him to know about this conversation – it’ll do no good for my reputation. And by the way, you tell anyone about this, and I will deny it.”
Taylor laughed. “Bye, Dean. Say hi to Sam.”
The two hung up after promises of keeping in touch. Taylor put her phone down and headed to the kitchen for a drink. One thing was for certain – she felt better, and maybe it was time to have that conversation with Flack.
“Drew?”
“No… Taylor,” she frowned. The voice was familiar.
“Ah, I have got the right number. Drew, it’s Dean.”
“Oh my god, is everything alright?”
“Yeah, it’s fine.”
Taylor’s eyes narrowed. “How did you get this number?”
“I’m a detective.”
Taylor laughed, “No, you’re not. So what is this about?”
There was a long pause down the phone, “I… uh… I just, uh, wanted you to know, that uh, if you need to talk, I’m here.”
“I thought you let Sam do the talking?”
“Yeah, and he says hi, by the way, but,” if Dean was standing in front of her, she figured he’d be staring at the floor by now, “I’ll listen.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but, uh, you might not get the best response from me.”
“Why?” Taylor asked suspiciously.
“I told you, I don’t do talking.”
“No, I mean, why listen now? Why wouldn’t you talk yesterday?”
“Several reasons. To get Sam to stop nagging, I kinda felt bad, and it sounds like you don’t talk to anyone anyway.”
Taylor sighed and sank into the couch, “You’re right. I don’t.”
“Why don’t you talk to that boyfriend of yours?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just don’t” know how to. He’s dealt with death for years, and I’m new to it. And how do you start a conversation like that? Hi, honey, how was your day? Mine was alright except for the fact I saw another ghost, only this time, it was of a child and she had been starved to death. Yeah, that’s a great conversation starter…”
A good few hours later, and Taylor was feeling like a small weight she hadn’t even realised was there, had been lifted off her chest. True to his word, Dean wasn’t much of a talker, but as he had been driving through Indiana, with Sam fast asleep next to him, he had listened to everything she had poured down the phone.
“Thanks, Dean.”
“No worries. Look,” there was a pause, “Are we done with all this pouring-your-heart-out crap?”
Several hundred miles away Taylor found herself smiling. “Yeah.”
“Good, because, and no offence, but next time, you’re talking to Sam.”
“You know, Dean, if you ever want the favour returned, you can always just call,” Taylor told him with a small smile.
“Um, not likely to happen. I don’t do talking.”
“No, but when you do, I’ll listen.”
Hey, Taylor?”
“Yeah?”
“You still with your boyfriend?”
Taylor rolled her eyes, “No, we had a huge fight and split up,” she told him dryly.
Dean chuckled, “I knew you two weren’t meant to be. ” He grew serious, “Look, Taylor, I joke around, but the guy trusts you. And you trust him. Maybe you should have this conversation with him.”
“You know what, maybe you’re right.”
“I’ve got to go. Sam’s stirring – I don’t want him to know about this conversation – it’ll do no good for my reputation. And by the way, you tell anyone about this, and I will deny it.”
Taylor laughed. “Bye, Dean. Say hi to Sam.”
The two hung up after promises of keeping in touch. Taylor put her phone down and headed to the kitchen for a drink. One thing was for certain – she felt better, and maybe it was time to have that conversation with Flack.
Originally posted 29/07/2007