Daydreamer

Daydreamer
Sitting on the sea
Soaking up the sun

Fishing. Dean hadn't been fishing in years. Eight years, at least. Still, the rod settled into his hand easily, and he habitually threaded the line.

Sitting on the dock of the lake, the cast line in one hand and a cold beer in the other, he said, "This is great, Sid. Thanks for inviting me."

"Yeah, no problem, Dean. Nobody wants to fish alone," his friend answered with a chuckle.

Dean had never imagined he'd be fishing again. He never imagined he'd have an ordinary, mundane, conventional friend to go fishing with. He never imagined he'd actually have a family, a normal life.

He is a real lover
Of making up the past

"So these raccoons, right? They're almost as big as I am, I mean their heads - " Dean held up his hands a distance apart to illustrate a size. "So it's coming at me, and the damn thing knocks the gun out of my hand!"

"You're kidding," Sid said in disbelief. "How the hell did it do that?"

Dean shrugged. "I don't think it knew what it was doing, just trying to survive, you know? But anyway, I'm disarmed and the thing's on top of me, scratching at my neck. If I hadn't had a partner on that job, I'd be screwed, man." The light in Dean's eyes fell for a moment but he seemed to shake himself out of it. "Anyway, I'm glad I had my shots, if you know what I mean."

Sid agreed with a laugh. "I'll drink to that, man." Their beer bottles clanged together.

And feeling up his girl
Like he's never felt her figure before

When he got home that night, it was rather late, and Lisa greeted him with a kiss.

She pulled away and stroked his face, seemingly admiring him for something. "I know you just got home, but Ben's in bed."

A smile spread across Dean's face and he pulled her hand away press it to his lips. "I'll be right up."

Every time he touched her, he marveled in her skin, in her curves, her body, in the fact that she was all his and he was all hers.

He almost couldn't believe she was real.

A jaw dropper
Looks good when he walks
Is the subject of their talk

"Dude, what is with you and the girls? I swear, every time." Sid watched as Dean crumpled up a napkin bearing a phone number and tossed it in the vicinity of the nearest trashcan.

"I don't know, man. It's like they can't resist a taken guy."

"Hey, I'm taken," Sid answered with a shrug. "Where're my bar napkins?"

Dean chuckled and flipped a few dollar bills onto the table.

The next morning, he woke around noon and wandered into the kitchen in his sweats and undershirt. He was slightly surprised to see a group of women in the backyard whose eyes seemed immediately glued to him.

"Morning, ladies," he called with a wave.

"Afternoon, sweetie," Lisa corrected him, kissing him on the cheek as she went to join her friends.

He would be hard to chase
But good to catch

"It's not my life," he had said.

Not "It's too much responsibility," or "I can't handle it at this point in my life," or "I'd be a crappy dad." None of the usual break-up lines she'd gotten.

And he had looked disappointed when she'd told him he wasn't Ben's father. He had wanted to be there, he had wanted it to be his life.

So she let him go.

She had his number, but never called. She knew she couldn't chase Dean. He was right; it wasn't his life. Not yet. But she prayed that when it was, he'd come back to them. She'd never seen anyone treat Ben like he had, and she knew he wanted to be there for both of them.

So she waited.

And he came back. When it became his life, when he could live like them, he came back to her.

And he could change the world
With his hands behind his back, oh

Dean saved lives. That's what his life was.

Lisa had seen that thing in her son and it had terrified her and sent her into a near-meltdown. But Dean had stopped the thing and brought her son back without blinking an eye. He even knew it had taken Ben before she had.

After that, Lisa had found her mind wandering to Dean often, wondering what else he had faced, who else he had saved, how many were alive because of him. His job was dangerous, but he was practiced. She wondered how many times Dean had killed a creature and saved lives effortlessly, simply because he knew more about what was out there.

When he finally turned up at her doorstep, she knew it had to have been something big - something huge, gigantic - to have broken him so clearly. He had finally saved the world.

You can find him
Sitting on your doorstep
Waiting for the surprise

He didn't tell her about the salt he'd stock-piled in the basement or the symbol he'd painted under the rug. He didn't necessarily keep it from her, they just simply never spoke of it.

Dean was a haunted man. He had trouble believing that everything was all right, that he and Lisa and Ben were safe. He knew what was out there and he couldn't believe they would just leave him alone. It had been so long since he'd had to go looking for a fight. For the last few years - or what seemed like decades to Dean - everything had come looking for him. Looking for him and his brother. He couldn't afford to have something catch him off-guard, not now.

And he will feel like
He's been there for hours
And you can tell that he'll be there for life

Dean had insisted he take the side of the bed nearest to the window, and though that meant Lisa had to adapt, she didn't protest. She often woke in the middle of the night to find him looking outside, seemingly watching the moon and the stars, almost as if they were a threat themselves.

She knew he also kept a gun under the bed.

On those nights, she would pull him back to bed with gentle words and soft hands. She would be the pliable fluidity to his tense stiffness until his breathing slowed and his muscles relaxed with sleep.

Dean had been raised a hunter and knew nothing else.

On those nights, she wondered if he would ever adapt, ever lose his tense instinct. She doubted it.

Daydreamer
With eyes that make you melt
He lends his coat for shelter

He and Lisa had gone out to a movie while Ben spent the night at a friend's. A movie. Another item to add to the list of things Dean had never imagined.

They paused just before leaving the theater lobby. "It's raining," Lisa noted, surprised.

Dean quickly shrugged out of his jacket. "Come on," he said, and they made a run for the truck. He let her in the passenger side before making it around to his door. They both burst into laughter as soon as his door closed. They were drenched.

Dean tossed his jacket into the back seat. "It was a good effort," Lisa said, patting his shoulder.

He shook his head violently. "Hey!" she protested as he sprayed her with water droplets.

"What? You're already soaked," he laughed.

Plus he's there for you
When he shouldn't be

"Hey, Dean? It's late. Are you coming to bed soon?" Lisa leaned on the doorjamb of the study, watching him at his desk. He looked up a moment after she'd spoken.

"Sorry, what?"

"I said it's late, are you coming to bed?"

"Oh, yeah, I'll be up in a minute."

"All right." She retreated upstairs.

Dean watched her go then stood and stretched. He'd been at the computer for hours, searching for omens, odd deaths, and crime rates near them. He had also searched for any news on how to save his brother, but didn't dwell on the subject long.

He made his way around the house, checking the few devil's traps and salt lines he'd laid previously, as well as locking the doors and windows. He cast a cautious look around before starting up the stairs.

But he stays all the same
Waits for you
Then sees you through

Lisa was woken by his thrashing and whimpers just before he lunged awake in a sweat. It scared her to see such a strong man in such a vulnerable - weak - state, but she knew she needed to bring him back to reality, so she reached out.

"Dean, Dean," she tried as he shrunk from her touch. "Dean, it's me, you're okay. You're here with me, it's okay." She wrapped her arms around him and he collapsed into her embrace, just as he did after every nightmare. As they simply sat together, she felt his breath slow and return to a normal pace.

He pulled from her grasp slightly and put his hand to her face, guiding her so their foreheads met. He didn't open his eyes.

After a moment, she kissed him on the cheek and guided him back to the pillows. "Sleep," she told him.

There's no way I could describe him
What I've said is just what I'm hoping for

It was a Saturday afternoon. Lisa stood at the window watching Dean and Ben toss a football back and forth. When Ben caught a particularly long pass, the two ran toward each other and did their own dance followed by a handshake they'd made.

On Sunday morning, Lisa sat at the table, where she'd been exiled with a cup of coffee. She listened to Dean tell Ben how to oil the frying pan, then demonstrate how to crack eggs with one hand. She listened to the sizzle of the batter on the stove and the giggles from her son when he slipped up and spilled a drop here or a speck there.

She got a call Monday at her lunch hour asking if he could pick her up. They went to a small cafe near her gym and spent an hour together, just the two of them.

Dean picked Ben up from school on Tuesday, because she had to work late, and on Wednesday, he helped Ben with homework. Thursday, he cooked dinner and on Friday he took Ben to school and let her sleep in.

Lisa never imagined how much having a man around the house could change their lives. In her opinion, the good far outweighed the bad. The near-constant smile on Ben's face told her he felt the same.

But I will find him
Sitting on my doorstep
Waiting for the surprise

One night, Lisa came home from grocery shopping to find Dean sitting on the steps to the house, staring at the path in front of him.

"Hey," she said softly, to call his attention.

When his eyes met hers, they were distant. They were eyes of the past; the eyes that had seen horrible things that he wouldn't speak to her about; the eyes of a fighter; the eyes that had lost a brother.

And it will feel like
He's been there for hours

"So, what's up?" she asked, sitting next to him and placing the bag of groceries aside.

He looked to the ground in front of them and cleared his throat. "Nothing," he said. That's what he always said. "Nothing."

He rubbed his hand on his jeans, then motioned to the bag on the steps. "Need help with that?"

"Sure," she answered, a little let down. She'd hoped he might talk to her today.

He stood and she handed him the bag. He went into the house, leaving her on the front steps.

And I can tell that he'll be there for life
And I can tell that he'll be there for life

Lisa rubbed her arms as she noticed the chill and looked up to the slowly emerging stars. She picked one and she wished; she wished hard.

"Please let us heal him."

But as hard as she wished, she knew it would never come true.