Fix You

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Walking away. That had been the hardest thing that Brooklyn had ever done in her life. She had thought watching Dean mourn his father's death had been hard, and it had, but nothing compared to the amount of guilt that she felt every day. Knowing that she had slipped out of their hotel room and Dean would have woken up in the morning not knowing why. She knew the man well enough to know he would be angry and frustrated and ultimately he would likely blame himself. And that killed her because her walking away hadn't been because she thought Dean had done anything wrong. She left because it had been the only choice that she had, Brooklyn thought. How would she have explained to Dean that she was pregnant? Dean had a job to do and he did that job well, she couldn't stop him. And she couldn't stand by and watch as her baby wondered where their father was.

When she had learned that she was having a daughter, there was no doubt in her mind what she would name her. Mary, Brooklyn's little girl, looked every bit the part of Dean Winchester's daughter. Every day when she woke up and headed to the diner with her toddler in tow, Brooklyn would have to take a moment to remind herself that she had left for a reason. That her daughter would never know what it meant to grow up a hunter's daughter and would only know her daddy was a hero. Because Dean Winchester, he was a hero.

"I know, baby. I'm going to get you a pancake as soon as I can but Momma, she has to start work, okay? Why don't you colour?" Brooklyn urged the toddler where she sat at the end of the counter in a seat that was reserved solely for her daughter. Brooklyn couldn't afford child care so it was easier to just bring Brooklyn along with her to work and that way she got to keep an eye on her as well.

Kissing Mary's head, Brooklyn wrapped the apron around her torso before picking up her notepad. She poked her head into the kitchen and called out that she was here - signal enough to start a pancake and juice for Mary. Sighing as she turned around, Brooklyn made her way out to the diner. Just like every day, Brooklyn would greet a table and return with their drinks. Middle of a rush, Brooklyn wasn't really paying much attention to the people she was greeting.

"Hello, gentlemen. Our special today is shrimp alfredo and the soup is corn chowder. What can I get sta-" Brooklyn hiccuped as she caught Sam's eye. The colour drained from her features before she was able to recover and continue. Praying that she wouldn't be recognized. "Sorry, what can I get started for you?" Please.

Dean Winchester was known to carry guilt. Guilt for getting people hurt, guilt for dragging people in to help clean up messes, guilt if there was something he couldn’t fix. But most of all? Guilt that he had pushed the one thing, the one person, the one reason he kept walking forward everyday away. Dean wasn’t sure just quite what is was that he had done to push Brooklyn away, but deep down, it had to have been his fault, right?

When John died, a part of Dean died as well. And when he woke up in the empty motel room, to a cold side of the sheets, the rest of him died as well. Dean tried to track her, but Brooklyn knew the life, she knew the ways around getting caught. Maybe he hadn’t been affectionate as much as he should have been. Maybe he didn’t say I love you, B. as often as she wanted. Maybe he took too many cases. Maybe he had her life on the line too much… But there wasn’t anything he could do about it now.

Years later, Brooklyn was still the first thing Dean saw and thought about when his eyes opened after only three hours of sleep. He remembered the way she smelled, the way her skin felt against his—the sound of her voice was now the sound of his conscience.

Sam had caught a case in a small town about three-hundred miles out from where they already were. It was coming up on the anniversary of when he woke up alone, so needless to say, Dean Winchester could use a fucking distraction.

Dean hadn’t even had been paying attention to his surroundings, his hands placed in front of him clasped together as he stared at the empty space of the table that lay between them. He did, however, feel the shift in the air. Sammy’s hand flew down and smacked him on the leg. “Sam, knock it the hell…” When Dean looked up at what Sam was referring to, he thought he was going to pass out. “….off.”

During the nights when she was alone with her own thoughts, Brooklyn wondered where Dean was. She wondered if he was still kicking. The man was a fighter, she knew the chances were that he still was. Chances were that the man was still fighting demons and ghouls and wendigos in his sleep. She wondered what it would be like if she had stayed. Would Dean have left hunting behind? Would Dean have denied and pushed her away? Brooklyn doubted it but she had no real way of knowing because there was no going back.

It had been nearly four and a half years since she was last on the hunt. Since she last saw any of the Winchesters. Since she last saw her uncle. Since she last remembered what it was like to feel Dean's hands all over her. She had watched him bed his fair share of women and she had never cared, she wasn't the jealous type and they hadn't been officially together. But she still felt... special when Dean looked at her. Something about it felt different.

As hopeful as she had been, Brooklyn knew her cover was blown the moment she heard the sound of his voice. Drawing in a deep breathe, she closed her eyes and counted backward slowly. When she reopened them, there was a pained smile on her features as she looked down to meet Sam's gaze. She couldn't bring herself to look over at him, she couldn't bring herself to come to terms with the emotions she was sure would be evident on his features.

"It's been awhile, boys," Brooklyn managed, her voice restrained and even but just barely. Her grip tightened around her notepad. "Is there a case in town?"

Sam was the first to speak, all he could do was breathe her name, “Brooklyn…”

All Dean could do was stare. He was taking in her features, tracing the things he remembered and then retracing things that were definitely not there before. A freckle here a freckle there that was new… Her eyes were duller than he remembered. Her hair was just as glossy and flawless… And her lips, God her lips.

But all she had to say was “hey boys”? All she had to say was to mention how long it had been? Apparently, she didn’t remember fucking Dean that night and then taking off in the morning. Apparently, she didn’t remember the thousands of calls and texts messages he had sent. Apparently, she didn’t remember ripping the GPS tracker out of her car—that he had built pretty much from the ground up for her.

Dean’s eyes narrowed and his wall went up. He wasn’t going to allow her to do this to him. With a small nod of his head and a forced half-smile plastered on his lips, the kind that didn’t even reach his eyes, he spoke finally. “Yeah. Been a minute, hasn’t it?”

And then there was the awkward air. The tension that even a butcher’s knife wouldn’t be able to cut through. His hand was on his knee, his fingertips squeezing hard into his flesh, allowing him to realize this was a real moment. This wasn’t a dream or a thought… This was real. And then he said it.

“Where the fuck’ev you been and why did you leave?” His voice came out a little louder than what he had intended, causing several diners do look their way.

“Dean,” Sam hissed. “Not. Now.”

"Yeah, I'd say so. It's nice to see you two though. Bacon cheeseburger? I don't have apple pie but I g-" Brooklyn's offer fell silent the moment that Dean spoke up again.

Brooklyn had never felt smaller than she did in the moments directly after Dean snapped at her. She felt like a child being scolded and she couldn't really be mad, she had done so much to deserve him demanding answers that she deserved it. And she deserved more, as far as she was concerned. But just like Sam said - not. now. Not here. Not in front of Mary, not when she was working.

"I... had to leave. It doesn't matter now," Brooklyn forced the words out, her heart squeezing as she prayed silent. She could feel eyes glued on them and she only prayed that Mary's weren't included. The little girl was inquisitive and demanding. A perfect mix of her parents - if Mary caught onto the brewing argument, there was no saying what the toddler would do.

"There are children here. I would appreciate you not using that sort of language," Brooklyn spoke, her eyes narrowing a bit as she finally turned toward Dean. He looked older, rougher around the edges but damn, if he wasn't still just as handsome as she remembered.

"Sam, what did you want to drink? Eat?" Brooklyn asked as she turned back to the younger Winchester, brow raised. She fully expected that Dean's order would remain the same so she was onl really concerned about Sam's.

Dean could only stare at her, his jaw fixated in the so-very-Dean way. His mind was reeling. Part of him wanted to jump over the counter, slam her body to his, and meld their lips together… But the other part? The other part wanted to take her outside, slam his fist to a wall, act like a child and scream and yell at her for leaving and not letting him know she was safe. The least she could have done for him was tell her she was okay. That’s all he cared about anyway.

Dean blocked out all the conversations that were happening around him, more so trying to block out her voice. His breathing was getting heavy as his blood boiled, half with rage and half with relief. Dean would be flat out lying if he said he wasn’t at least a tiny bit ecstatic to see her alive and well. To see her healthy. To see her out of the life he lived… somewhat happy.

When Sam nudged dean, apparently making him aware that she was waiting for him to tell her what she wanted. Why should he speak to her anyway. Begrudgingly, he cleared his throat. “Just make me whatever, B.” he said roughly. “You know what I like… ‘Least I hope you do still.”

Dean knew that last part wasn’t needed, but he was driving his point home.

After taking Sam and Dean's order, Brooklyn all but ran into the kitchen, dropping down against the door to the freezer the moment that she had the chance to. She drew in a few deep, ragged breaths. Shaking her head and waving away Ricky when he asked if she was okay. After another moment or so, Brooklyn pushed to her feet and put in their order. She picked up another table's order and carried it out, serving the food before she returned to their table with their drinks.

Brooklyn was visibly shaken as she set the glasses down, doing all that she could to keep herself under control. She couldn't afford to lose out on even one shift, let alone lose her job should Dean and her start fighting. That was the last thing that she needed at the moment.

"I don't have apple pie. i can do something like it though," Brooklyn's voice was utterly void of emotion as she turned toward Dean. She was looking over his shoulder, at the booth behind him, but she hoped that it would at least be enough to fool him into thinking she was making eye contact with him.

Behind her, she heard Mary starting to get a little fussy so she turned quickly and headed over to the end of the counter where Mary sat. She leaned down, ruffling the girl's hair as she spoke quietly, trying to urge to daughter to be well behaved. "Momma's gonna get you some of those apple pie bites, okay? Just be good for me," she said, a bit louder than she intended. Sighing, she rubbed Mary's back for a moment before heading back into the kitchen. The apple pie bites was only pancake dough deep fries with apples on top and a cinnamon sauce but it was enought o fool the little girl. Who took after her father and adored apple pie like no other.

Dean and Sam’s eyes were bulging out of their skulls as they heard Brooklyn refer to herself as ‘momma’ to a young girl. Dean’s heart was pounding, so loudly he was afraid it would take visible effects on his body. After Dean calmed down from the initial shock that Brooklyn was a mother, he took a good look at the little girl who was on the counter. Her hair was the first thing he noticed, it wasn’t light like her mothers. It was a bit darker, yet still sort of blondish. The next thing he noticed was her eyes and her nose. Dean’s hand went up and immediately stoked the bridge of his nose as he continued staring at the little girl, and when she finally noticed him staring and looked at him full on, Dean was looking at a mirror image of his own eyes.

Dean’s fist began to clench again. If this was his daughter, why hadn’t Brooklyn told him? Did she think he wasn’t capable of being a father? Was he not good enough to be a father? Dean sucked in a sharp breath, holding it in as long as he could until he was sure his lungs were on fire.

“You gotta kid, Brook?” He asked, his tone smoother than his feelings on the inside. “How old is she?”

Things were going full force in the diner, Brooklyn was returning in hardly any time at all with their food. Dean's classic bacon cheeseburger and fries and Sammy's set in front of him. She had just been about to turn away when Dean spoke and his voice, it sent a chill right down her spine. Her stomach dropped to her feet, her eyes flicking over to her daughter for a moment before she returned her attention to Dean.

How did she answer him? Did she lie about Mary's age?

Clearing her throat, Brooklyn refused to look up at either of the Winchesters. "Mary is three and a half in a little over two weeks," she whispered, drawing in a sharp breath. Her heart jumped to her throat as she looked up, biting down on the inside of her lip.

"Dean.." saying his name was all it took for tears to well in her eyes and before she could even stop them, they were falling. Brooklyn looked up and shook her head, twisting around, intent on heading into the kitchen so that she could recollect herself.

Dean’s mouth was dry as he listened to her. What he thought was the situation was just confirmed. Thinking the thought in his own head was different then hearing it come out of her mouth as a confirmation. His heart broke in half when he saw her start to tear up. Shit, what do I do.

“B….” He sighed, ignoring the look that Sam was giving him. “Take a five, I will meet you outside.”

Dean pushed himself out of the diner stool and stalked off towards the door. When he made it outside of the building, he ducked around the corner. He felt like the weight of the world was on his shoulders… He was heaving with ragged breaths as he struck the side of the brick building. He was willing to do just about anything to distract him from the distress that this situation was causing him. Focusing on the pain in his hand, flexing and releasing his hand, he counted the seconds as he waited for her to show up outside.

When he finally noticed she was out there with him, looking more timid than he had ever seen him, he huffed. He looked everywhere but her, not sure that he could contain himself if he looked directly in her eyes. “When were you going to tell me, Brooklyn? That I have a fucking kid?”

Brooklyn really didn't want to follow Dean outside. She had tables to tend to, she had customers to work, and she had tips to try and focus on. If she didn't make enough money, she wouldn't have the chance to make her little girl's six month a good one. She knew that it was silly to celebrate Mary being three and a half years old but they didn't have a lot and they needed to be able to take joy out of everything that they got the chance to.

If it hadn't been for the look that Ricky gave her when she stepped back into the kitchen and if it hadn't been for Jamie agreeing to cover her tables for a minute, Brooklyn wouldn't have bothered to head outside.

Heading outside seemed damn near as difficult as leaving Dean had been. Brooklyn hung her head, refusing to look up when she was finally standing in front of him. She wrapped her arms around her torso, biting down on the inside of her lip. Shrugging, Brooklyn kicked at the dirt beneath her shoe.

"I was planning on never," Brooklyn whispered, closing her eyes as she tried to focus on not breaking down. She had already cried, she couldn't do that. Not again. Not in front of Dean when he deserved to be the one upset. "I can't drag you down like that." When she spoke, her voice shook but she managed to not stutter. "You have a family business. Don't you? I can't... I can't take you from that. I can't ask that of you. And I won't. Ever."

“Brooklyn,” Dean sighed heavily. It hurt him more than anything that she thought that him becoming a father would weigh him down. Sure, Dean put up a front like the family life wasn’t for him and that it was only for Sammy, but Dean wasn’t one to push off responsibility. If this was his kid, which it was, he was going to make damn sure he was able to help support, take care, and love her.

“You’re a damn idiot if you think something like that would bring me down…” he grumbled. “I mean, is it ideal? Hell no. You know that. But you also should know that I wouldn’t just fucking abandon you like you did me and Sam. You know I would have helped you and done whatever I could in order to help you.”

Dean ran a hand through his hair, his jaw locking once more as he got lost in thought. “You shoulda told me. Bottom line, Brook. You should have told me and you didn’t. You know what that makes me feel like? A piece of shit. That you think I couldn’t even be a father if I tried… Is that what you think of me? I mean, come on, you know me better than anyone but Sam. A bunch’a bullshit is what this is, Brooklyn. Is she callin’ someone else Daddy or does she just not know I even exist?” Family was everything to Dean, and Brooklyn of all people should know that.

Dean was reacting the exact way that Brooklyn had expected him to. He was angry and frustrated and really, she couldn't blame him in the least bit. She deserved every nasty word that came out of his mouth because true to his nature, it wasn't even nasty. It was just the truth. Maybe a bit harsh but nothing that she hadn't been telling herself every day for the past nearly five years.

"How would that gone gone, Dean?" Brooklyn whispered. She shrugged her shoulders, still refusing to look up at him. She couldn't imagine the emotions on his face at the moment. Dean was good at hiding his feelings, sure, but Brooklyn knew him better than anyone else in the world. "I would have told you and then what? You would have wanted to press on because Abaddon was still out there. You would have wanted to keep going up until the last possible chance and God, I wouldn't have been able to do that. Not with how rough the pregnancy was."

"And don't you dare try and tell me you would have been content living life without hunting. You, you're a hunter, Dean," Brooklyn's voice grew a bit louder this time around. She wasn't too loud, anyone passing wouldn't hear her but she was a bit more secure in what she was saying at this point.

Brooklyn had been as calm as she could manage but the moment that Dean accused her of that, anger replaced the guilt and the pain. Her head snapped up, eyes narrowing as she glared at the man. "No. All she knows is her daddy would be here if he could. She knows her daddy is a hero and that's it. I'm not ready to explain hunting to Mary, I'm not ready to tell her the monsters aren't fake."

Dean felt defeated. Everything that Brooklyn was explaining was one hundred percent the truth. How would he have kept them safe during that time? Dean didn’t have a solid answer to that, but he knew he damn sure would have tried. He would have gone down trying and fighting and killing for her. At least then he would have been able to be by her side and watch his daughter be born. That way, he wouldn’t have missed out on the first three years of the youngest Winchester’s life. She would have had her daddy, her uncle, and a lot of people that would have loved and cared for her… Here? Well to Dean it didn’t seem like there were many around for Brooklyn.

Dean shook his head, still refusing to look at Brooklyn. He knew if he did, he would just start yelling and accusing once more. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, shifting his weight back and forth on his feet. His tongue flicked out and trailed across his bottom lip.

“Well, I’m here now, Brooklyn.” Dean spoke up, finally making eye contact with the blonde in front of him. “And if you think I am leaving here without you and that little girl, you’ve got another thing coming.”

Dean couldn’t fathom leaving them. How was he supposed to hop in the Impala and chase the sunset and the next case knowing that his only child, his daughter, was growing up not even knowing who the hell he was. That wasn’t something that Dean would fee okay about doing; especially because the mother of his daughter was someone he loved to dearly, someone he would go to hell and back again for.

“You can’t make me do that, B.” He grumbled, yet his voice was softer and quieter this time. “You can’t do that to me. I wanna be a part of her life too.”

Brooklyn didn't know what she was supposed to feel. She didn't know whether she was supposed to be relieved because Dean was finally here and he was finally aware of why she had left. She was so, so relieved that she couldn't even begin to describe the feeling but then there was guilt that settled in the pit of her stomach because she knew how wrong it was for her to have kept Mary from Dean. But how did she even begin to explain why? She thought she had done a decent job but still, she wasn't sure that Dean would even understand her reasoning.

"Leaving?" Brooklyn asked as she raised her gaze, her attention focus on Dean. She looked around for a moment, letting out a sigh as she shrugged her shoulders. "I... I can't, Dean. I have a job here and how would I explain to Mary? And on top of that, I can't do that to her. I can't put her in danger because that's why I left. The whole reason I left, because the hunter life is so incredibly fucking dangerous, Dean. And I can't do that to my little girl. I just can't, okay?"

Her back hit the wall of the diner behind her and that was all it took before she slid down the wall. Brooklyn let out a ragged sob as she hung her head, covering her face with her hands. "Don't. Don't do that to me, Dean. Please," she whispered, biting down into her lip as she shook her head.

"I can't leave. I can't because what happens when Lucifer finds out? Crowley? And the demons aren't the only thing we have to worry about, Dean. The angels and the vampires, the fucking dragons. What do we do?"

Dean didn’t know if he felt angry or upset or hurt. Her little girl? Last time Dean checked it took two to tango and it also took two to make a damn baby. The look that Dean was giving her could turn anyone to stone. His hands balled it his sides, fingernails making crescent shaped cuts into his palms. Dean’s jaw was locked so hard, so tight, he was sure to chip a few teeth.

“Your little girl?” Dean all but spat. “Haven’t you ever considered the fact that maybe I want to be a part of my child’s, our child’s life? Or did you just want to keep me out of that two, Brooklyn, just like you have everything else.”

Dean’s hands unclenched, his hands immediately flying up to run through his hair, grasping handfuls of his hair and tugging slightly as he turned around. The sight of her after she said those words made him irate. Sure, Dean knew that this life wasn’t safe, he knew it wasn’t ideal in raising a child, but they were safer now than they had been in their entire life.

“Maybe if you woulda stuck around a bit longer you would have come back to the bunker with us.” He stated, his back still turned to her. “It’s warded, no one will ever find us there, Brooke.” Dean shook his head, crossing his arms as he watched traffic pass. “You’re not even giving me a damn chance. You aren’t doin’ anything to help this situation. All your doing is what is good for your agenda.”

Dean finally turned around to look at her. “I have always done everything in my damn power to keep you safe. What makes you think I wouldn’t double or-or triple that for that little girl?”

Brooklyn was quiet as Dean rambled on and on about how wrong she was. She took every ounce of it because it was nothing that she hadn't thought to herself. It wasn't as if she had never thought that she had done everything wrong. It had been wrong to walk away without even so much as giving Dean the chance to help raise his daughter. But then the conflicting image would pop up and all she thought think of was what would happen should someone get their hands on Mary. What would happen if something happened to them? Dean's guilt would only be multiplied at that point.

"It was always about you and your job. Your job was finding Abaddon and avenging your parents' deaths. Not about Sammy, not Bobby. No one but getting justice. A justice you fucking deserve and I wasn't about to take that from you, Dean. Okay?" Brooklyn snapped, looking up to him. All she could see was the outline of his shape, her eyes blurry from the tears that she wasn't even bothering to try and hide at this point.

"It was never about me, it was never about us. Ever. Don't you try and act like it was easy for me to leave because that was the hardest fucking thing I ever did. Harder than watching you crumble after your dad was killed. Harder than the fear I felt when I almost lost Mary. The fear I felt when I was leaving because I was leaving you. I had no idea what was coming for either of us. I didn't know what would happen for Mary, I had no clue what your life would be and how was I going to be selfish enough to ask you to give up the justice you had been seeking after?"

Brooklyn knew she was rambling but she simply couldn't stop herself. "Mary adores her father. Has no damn clue who her father is but she loves her. That was the most I could fuckin' do, Dean. What more do you want from me?"

Dean felt like he was sucker punched in the gut as he listened to her go on and on about everything that had happened. And damn was she right. Every word, every syllable, every sentence. She was right about everything. But Dean? Well, Dean was too damn stubborn to look past his frustration. Too stubborn to listen to her. Part of him wanted to stride over there and wrap her in his arms, beg like a baby for her to just come back with him—to come home. But he couldn’t.

“Brooklyn, quit the waterworks…” He mumbled as he took a step closer. Another hand went up to run through his hair as he watched her quietly cry. Fuck, had he done it this time. Why couldn’t he have waited until after her shift? Because he was impatient, and everything needed to be done Dean’s way.

“Look,” He said quietly. “Things are different now. Sammy and I? We’re good. We have things under control. And I mean, shit, when Cas finds out he is an uncle? You really think that little girl is going to have a problem being safe with three hunters and an angel looking after her?”

Dean tried his best to lighten the situation with a small, dry laugh. “Come home, Brooke.” He politely demanded. “I want to help. I… I wanna know my daughter too.”

Dean bit down on his lip as he took a few steps closer, “Lemme help you, dammit. Please.”

All the pain and the frustrations that had built up over the years all came tumbling out the moment that she was confronted with Mary's father. Brooklyn hung her head, staring down at her lap as she listened to Dean. She wanted nothing more than to cover her ears and yell just so that she wouldn't have to listen to him.

Reaching up to wipe her tears away, Brooklyn let out a dry laugh as she shook her head. The idea of an angel being her daughter's uncle? That was rich. But it all sounded so damn good. The promise of having family and people who cared for her again? People who weren't just her coworkers? Her stomach twisted into a knot as she pushed to her feet slowly.

"I don't... what am I supposed to, Dean?" Brooklyn sounded so broken in that moment and God, she knew it. Pathetic and broken, like someone who didn't know what she was supposed to do. What she shouldn't do. Closing her eyes, Brooklyn tried to search inwardly for some sort of answer. The next thing that she knew, arms that she had only dreamed of wrapped around her and she was done for.

Brooklyn leaned into Dean's chest, her face buried into his shirt as her fingers wrapped into the material of his shirt. "I hate you so damned much, Dean Winchester," she whispered, letting out a dry laugh as she shook her head. "You're such a bastard."