Colder Weather

Dean Winchester leaned against the driver’s side of his Impala, his arms crossed, the collar of his olive green jacket pulled up to his ears to protect them from the damp chill that accompanied the evening rain. His hazel eyes stared longingly at the little yellow sided house across the street. More specifically, at the rain-plastered kitchen window of the house.

He imagined that he could make out her figure through the mottling of rain drops, sitting poised at the kitchen table, her hands laid open on the table top, her body bent over a book or magazine. Or perhaps her hands were working, holding a pad of paper and a water color brush, creativity and imagination flowing from her and onto the blank paper, as it used to.

A flicker of movement caught his eye and jolted him out of his revelry. He glanced to the left and caught sight of a squirrel darting for cover underneath the line of dying shrubs that lined the border of the neighbor’s front lawn. Dean scanned the rest of the block quickly, sweeping his eyes back and forth along the sidewalk.

Nothing.

Dean shifted his weight and shoved his hands into his pockets, grunting softly as his elbow connected roughly with the door handle.

“Dammit.” He grumbled under his breath, gritting his teeth and trying hard not to rub his elbow. The pain was enough to make his ears sting.

“Excuse me.” A sharp, female voice clipped from somewhere behind him. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

That’s a damn good question, lady. Dean rolled his eyes before turning around and pasting on his most winning smile.

“Well hi there.” Dean leaned his weight against the Impala’s door, feeling the door handle press itself against the middle of his stomach. He crossed his arms on the roof and let his chin rest on them. From this vantage point, he studied the woman who was accosting him.

She stood on the sidewalk beside the car. She was a short, matronly woman who looked as if her body had been through the average number of childbirth experiences. Her hands were balled into fists that were jammed onto her hip bones, and as Dean studied her stained white t-shirt, his mind automatically tried to guess what had made the different stains.

Grapefruit juice? Peanut butter? He tried not to laugh or wrinkle his nose as he weighed all the possibilities. He realized he had lingered too long on the disgusting shirt and its surrounding body areas for the woman’s taste when she cleared her throat roughly.

He focused his attention on her face. Her skin wrinkled around her eyes, and her cheeks sagged slightly. Her thin lips hung down in a frown, and her nose was long and pointed at the tip. Her green eyes were boring holes into his forehead, and he thought her eyebrows were a bit too high.

“Do you intend to answer my question?” She snarled at him, crossing her arms across her chest as if she were shielding herself from his gaze.

Really, if I wanted to look, I’d still be looking. Inwardly, Dean was laughing. He just hoped it wouldn’t bubble out and become real laughter.

“I’m terribly sorry, ma’am.” Dean dropped his smile and moved his hand from the car roof to reach into the pocket of his jacket. He produced a false I.D. emblazoned with the words “County Watch”. “County neighborhood watch enforcer, ma’am. Just making sure this neighborhood is truly crime free.”

The woman leaned in to study the I.D., but Dean quickly recoiled and tucked the I.D. back into his pocket. The woman stepped back and glanced at him skeptically.

“Really, ma’am. The sooner I can complete my observations, the sooner I’ll be out of your way.” He could feel the smile on his face turning wry and stale, and he turned back around to watch the house once more. He didn’t really care if the woman stood and watched him or not. She was no concern of his.

He re-crossed his arms and looked at the window once more. Whatever figure he had glimpsed before had moved. Or simply wasn’t visible through the rain drops on the window. A thunder clap boomed off in the distance and he heard the nosy-neighbor woman scoff and hurry away down the sidewalk. Dean re-adjusted his collar, preparing for the coming rain, wishing he didn’t have to stand out there on the sidewalk, watching silently, wistfully wishing for what should have been.

_______________________________________________________________________

”Why don’t you just get out of here, Dean?” Isabel screamed hysterically, her fists flailing as she pounded uselessly against his chest.

Dean took her wrists, one in each hand. He restrained them gently and tried to look her in the eye. She dropped her head, her long, brown curls rushing forward to hide her face.

“Izzy,” he whispered, dropping her right wrist and placing his free hand under her chin, trying to tilt it up. “Hey, let’s just talk about this.”

She shook her head, jostling his hand. She looked up into his eyes, tears drenched her pale cheeks. Pure hurt mingled with spite showed in her eyes as she glared up at him.

“There’s n-nothing,” she hiccuped loudly, her breathing was quick and her voice was reaching hysteria. “T-to ta-a-alk about.”

Dean shook his head in shock. He released her other wrist and tried to encircle her middle with his arms. As he reached out to her, she recoiled and brought her right hand behind her head. With a cry, she brought it forward.

It connected with Dean’s left cheek with a loud smack. Heat began to spread along with a slight tingling sensation across the spot where her hand had connected.

Dean was frozen. He couldn’t move toward her. He couldn’t step away.

“Isabel.” His voice was husky and tired. He felt heat sting up his eyes and they began to water reflexively.

Isabel stepped back, her left hand clasped over her mouth. Her eyes were wide in shock at what she had just done.

Dean cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck.

What do I say? What can I say? As he stared at Isabel and tried to contain the tears that threatened to spill over, she turned away.

“I want you out. By tomorrow, Dean.” She whispered, so softly that Dean almost didn’t catch her words. “And I don’t want you to come anywhere near this house ever again.”

_______________________________________________________________________

I’m sorry. I couldn’t stay away. Not for long.