Fear Itself

We all gathered in Chandler’s massive dining room, which included a vast antique dining table which could probably seat about twenty people and rested beneath a crystal chandelier. Every seat was set for each guest with ironically gold silverware, blue and gold plates, and perfectly folded white cloth napkins. Dean and I were seated at the head of the table, in chairs adorned with white signs tied to the backs that read ‘Mr.’ and ‘Mrs.’ in decorative, light blue script. At every table setting was a blue wine glass, and at the center of the table was a vase full of blue and white flowers, very much like the ones in my bouquet.

I leaned over to Dean, who had already taken to lacing our fingers together and squeezing my hand into his. “This is all so lovely,” I commented quietly with a smile, looking up to him and puckering my lips before I smiled.

“Well, I think you’re lovely,” Dean chuckled before leaning closer to kiss me again.

We didn’t really ever stop looking at each other, and we weren’t looking at each other, we were definitely touching each other. We couldn’t be separated, even in the the ten minutes it took Chandler and Gabe to set the table with the absolutely insane amount of food Chandler had prepared (Chandler also swears it would have taken fifteen minutes if Alex hadn’t offered to help them set up). Chandler also had stopped to explain everything he had prepared.

On a three-tiered dessert stand was a tray of miniature donuts. Near that was a silver platter full of colorful cocktails topped with tropical flowers and blue straws. They also brought out a tray of coffee-flavored dessert drinks piled with whipped cream as well as one piled with french fries wrapped in decorative paper for flair (though he later explained that those were made per Eden’s request). A tray of chips and guacamole was also brought out. A plate full of small hamburgers accompanied a white ceramic pan full of homemade macaroni and cheese that he told me was baked instead of boiled. Aside from this was salad, which I wasn’t sure many ate. Chandler and Dean were too busy shoving donuts into each other’s mouths to be bothered with salad for once.

It wasn’t until 9:30, when everyone had their fill of wine and food, that we relocated to Chandler’s massive living room, dancing to the upbeat tunes pulsing from the speakers of Chandler’s stereo system. Most of these songs were sung by people Chandler said he knew, and he boasted so proudly about his pop star entourage, especially when Dean was stolen by Eden for a dance and Chandler had dragged me off to dance with him instead. After a few songs, we switched to slower music, and I found myself finally able to enjoy a dance with Dean.

My arms were up around his neck, and his hands had traveled a little further south than my waist, but I didn’t mind, nor did anyone else for that matter. With my head rested comfortably on Dean’s shoulder while we swayed, I had a nice vantage point of the rest of the room. Sam had his head nestled safely in the crook of Alex’s neck, their hands clasped together and held at shoulder-height. Alex’s eyes were cast downward, looking at Sam in a soft, easy expression. Chandler and Gabe assumed a similar position to Dean and me, perhaps a little tamer, considering Eden was seated on the sofa with my grandmother nearby. They were smiling, even when Gabe pulled Chandler’s sunglasses off, tucked them on the collar of his shirt, and kissed him.

What caught me off-guard was the sight of my aunt dancing with Avery, to which I couldn’t keep the smug smile off my face. Even when Avery looked at me, I just stared right back at him. He stared at me in a deadpan manner whereas I gave him a probing stare: eyebrows raised and smirking with satisfaction. I caught Avery roll his eyes before Dean and shifted again, turning until Avery and my aunt were out of sight.

I turned my head, nuzzling my face against his neck and closing my eyes for a moment, smiling at absolutely nothing. Suddenly, nobody else was around. It was just Dean and I. Everything else faded into the background as if this was all just something I had dreamed up in my sleep. Funny thing about that was that I didn’t know that I would have cared if I did. Everything was so perfect, anyway.

After a moment or so like that, I drew my head back just enough to look up at Dean, to see the easy, calm expression on his face, the content smile, the gleam in his eyes… barely even blinking until he glanced down at me with glossy, blue eyes. “Something wrong?” he asked quietly with subtle concern, eyebrows shifting to furrow just slightly.

The smile on face widened, and I just shook my head a little. “Not a thing,” I assured him sweetly. “I was just looking at you,” I told him.

“Oh, were you?” he chuckled.

“Yeah,” I sighed contently. “I was thinking about how lucky I am, getting to see your face every day for the rest of my life.” I closed my eyes and cracked a tiny grin when he kissed my forehead.

We stayed like that for a while, at least until Chandler’s enormous television nearby flickered on, causing everyone to stop rather abruptly. Chandler slipped a remote out of his pocket to stop the stereo as the screen focused in on a man, probably about thirty, with a shaved head and stubble.

“What’s up, citizens of the world?” he greeted rather casually with a gleam in his eye and a playful grin. His accent was strong and American, something straight of a city, a lot like Commander Kennedy’s.

“I have no idea who that is,” Dean murmured as he slipped his arm back around my waist. “But I’m pretty sure I like him.” All jokes aside, I couldn’t take my eyes off of the screen. Nobody could.

“Is that—?” Sam began to inquire, eyes flickering with slight recognition.

“My name is Casper Collins,” the man on the television introduced himself.

“Casper Collins!” both Cassidy brothers exclaimed, looking at each other in utter shock.

Alex asked exactly what everyone in the room was thinking: “Who the bloody hell is Casper Collins?”

“And I have some really great news for you,” Casper Collins explained to us and undoubtedly the rest of the world. “I'm here to inform you all that the Sons of Liberty have destroyed the League satellite branch and have liberated you from the oppressive rule of the bourgeois scum. In it's place, we leave you in the very capable hands of my good friend, David Turner, and the American Assembly. More on that later.”

“Um, he’s one of the r-rebel leaders in the States,” Sam explained.

“Awesome guy,” Dean added. “He’s been on the wire with us for a few months now to keep us posted. He’s one of the founders of the Sons of Liberty movement.”

The room echoed with a collective, “Oh.”

“Our work is not finished here, and it never will be until the League is dead and gone. We may have won the battle, but we haven't won the war,” Casper boomed with a laugh. “America needs to do it's part. As the land of the free, and the home of the brave, we can overcome any obstacle, and we need to help our brothers overseas do the same. If the League is to fall, we need to fight as one, and we can force them back into the muddy pit they crawled out of.”

Everyone gasped. I cupped my hand over my mouth in a mix of shock and awe. “Bloody hell,” Alex muttered, then exclaimed, “They’re coming to help us!”

“The truth is, brothers, we are at war. I know that none of you want to admit that. We are at war, and we need your help, all of you. We must band together and fight. We will join our brothers in arms to rain down upon the League in a firey fucking… firestorm of vengeance!” Collins threatened with an enthusiastic grin. “Kennedy, this is your warning: surrender, or the streets will be running red with your blood.” He paused, tilted back, and straightened up his posture. “Collins, out.”

The screen flickered back, and the room was filled with echoes of cheers and laughter. “You know what that sounds like to me?” Chandler interjected, raising his voice high above the crowd. “Celebration. Anyone up for cake?”

I really didn’t think a single person in that room had any intention of declining.

Chandler had it waiting for us in the dining room: it was four-tiers of white cake, each layer separated by blue hydrangeas. Chandler said he had it made for us about a week ago, which had me wondering how long Dean had known all of this was going to happen and why in the world he would wait so long to tell me, but most of me didn’t care. I was on cloud nine, overcome by euphoria and the sound of uproarious applause from our friends when we started cutting the cake. The applause only got worse when Dean and I took to smashing the combination of vanilla cake and buttermilk icing into each other’s faces. Chandler was sure to capture that on film.

Surely, Chandler was quite amused. He was even more amused when Dean leaned down and licked it off my cheek, and the laughter only grew louder when I graciously returned the favor.

We gathered around the table once more to partake in dessert and more wine, and everything was light and bubbly, like the world outside no longer mattered and the most important thing was that we were all there together. Unexpectedly, our friends, pair by pair, presented us with gifts. Sam and Alex gave us a number of frames for photographs (none of which were obtained legally, I imagined) so that Dean and I could hang up all of our pictures, at least once Chandler had them developed. Chandler and Gabe presented us with an anniversary box equipped with three bottles of red wine: one for our one year anniversary, one for our three, and one for our five. Eden also presented Dean and I with shiny costume crowns and climbed up on the table to bestow them upon us herself.

She chirped to Dean, “You married a princess, so that makes you a real prince now!”

After she graciously settled them atop our heads at what she proclaimed was “just the right angle,” Chandler and Gabe offered their gift of an anniversary wine box, equipped with three compartments, one our first, third, and fifth anniversaries. Each had a bottle of red wine already inside. Their gift went rather perfectly with my grandmother’s gift of stained glass wine stoppers. Though I would never voice favoritism, especially not when I hadn’t been expecting gifts in the first place, the one I liked the most was from Avery and my aunt Sophie.

It was a lockbox of sorts, but Aunt Sophie called it a “keepsake box,” and it wasn’t for things like guns, like I initially thought. It was for sentimental kinds of things, things that meant a lot to Dean and I. Already within was a small velvet bag, filled with polished silver pieces that had words engraved in them. Every front had “I love you because…” carved in, and the backs continued on with reasons. I liked the idea of the thing, and while all the wine and the frames were beautiful gifts and very much appreciated, something about that box struck me.

This was around the point where our older friends took their leave. My grandmother, Aunt Sophie, and Mumbles retired for the evening, and we thanked them once for attending and once more for the lovely gifts before we returned to the dance floor. We continued on like that rather jovially for a few hours, and Eden made sure to jump in whatever dances she could whether they bed with me, or Dean, or Chandler. She even managed to get a dance in with Sam and Alex, which was astounding in it’s own right. Little Eden held her own for quite some time, much longer than even Gabe expected, until she finally crashed with her face mashed up against the arm of Chandler’s couch, arms and torso cascaded against the decorative pillows settled there.

Slowly, the crowd filtered out until it was just Chandler and Gabe still with us. It was around four in the morning when Gabe scooped his daughter off the couch, and Chandler left us with just one simple instruction: “Change the sheets when you wake up.”

Dean and I were on our best behavior until we reached the room I had been in earlier. When we fell into bed, we didn’t retire, to say the least.

It wasn’t the light spilling in from the window that woke us the next morning; however, the pair of creeping brown eyes peeping over the edge of the mattress did. Dean saw her first. I didn’t know she was there until he greeted her with a groggy, “Good morning, Eden.” Thankfully, the only skin she could see was my bare back. Even so, Dean’s arms were wrapped around me tight like a vice, one hand softly stroking at the hair on the back of my neck.

“Dean,” Eden whispered. “Psst.”

“Yes, Eden?” he chuckled, still half-asleep, only craning his neck a little to look at her.

“You’re naked,” she pointed out.

“Um, yeah,” Dean laughed, stammering a little, tripping over his words. It was far too early for him to be thinking straight right this second. Not that Dean couldn’t focus on little sleep; we all knew he was more than capable. After all, he did it almost every day. Turning my head over my shoulder without twisting my upper body, I glanced to her and gave her a bit of a grin.

“See, Eden,” I began to explain. “It’s a bit of a funny story. I have a friend, well, perhaps he’s not much of a friend at all because every time I’ve run into him, he’s never done anything kind or friendly—I digress. His name is Archibald, and he’s a polar bear. Not like a cute one, though. He’s rather foul and unpleasant if you ask me. He tracked mud all over my living room carpet once.”

“Well, that’s not very nice of him,” Eden commented with a small frown.

“You’re right,” I agreed. “It wasn’t very nice.” I cleared my throat. “Archibald broke in last night, and he must have been very cold because he stole all of my clothes!”

Eden gasped, “You mean your beautiful dress?”

“No, just my pajamas,” I explained. “Luckily, Dean was here to fight him off. Archibald took his clothes in the process, however, which has left us both rather embarrassingly nude. I think he missed my backpack, though. Can you be a dear and check under the bed for me, love?”

Eden nodded and disappeared for just a moment behind the mattress, only to pop back up and exclaim, “Still here!”

“Phew,” I laughed with feigned relief. “Thank you, doll.” She gave me a proud nod.

“Are you coming down for breakfast, Dean?” she chirped, bouncing a little.

Dean startled awake once more, and I snorted. “Huh, yeah,” he mumbled.

“Tell Chandler and your daddy that we’ll be right there,” I told her with a gentle smile.

Her face immediately brightened, and she scurried out the door, calling for her father and Chandler, until she realized she had forgotten to shut the door, to which she quietly chastised herself, “Eden, that’s rude!” With a swift pull, she tugged the door closed, and Dean and I chuckled softly.

“Hey, wife,” Dean cooed playfully, rolling me on my back and leaning over to kiss me. My hands fell over his shoulders, and I found myself humming a soft giggle in the brief moments our lips would part.

“Hey,” I murmured with a tiny smile, gazing up at him when lifted his head, staring down at me softly, smiling in a bit of a daze. “You’re so cute,” I giggled, lifting my head to kiss him again. “Love you,” I mumbled against his lips. I could feel him smiling.

“I love you more,” he contended playfully, to which I shook my head.

I took his face in my hands, stroking my thumb across his cheek tenderly. “You are the bravest, loveliest, kindest, most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” I confessed. “Even that would be an understatement, Muscles.”

An easy smile spread across his face before he pressed his lips against my cheek. “How did I get so lucky, huh?” he asked, laughing under his breath. “It’s like every day with you is better than the last.” I glanced to him, looking into his bright blue eyes, and I smiled. I only hoped I could live up to such an expectation. There was blissful silence for just a moment before he interjected, “C’mon, Blondie.” He pressed his lips to mine again. “Breakfast.”

We tugged clothes back on, mine from my backpack, and Dean’s from a drawer I assumed he had used a couple of times before, considering there was a fair amount of clothing in there. Once we deemed ourselves presentable, we headed for the kitchen, arms wrapped around each other’s waists and whispering pleasant remarks about the evening, at least until we passed through the archway into the kitchen, where Chandler was standing above a smaller table than the one we dined at the night before. A smirk slipped onto his face as he crossed his arms and turned to us, a mug of fresh coffee held tightly in his right hand.

“I heard you were paid a visit by a friend last night,” he quipped. “Eden insists it was a polar bear, but I imagine it was something much smaller than a polar bear that stole your clothes, perhaps something about eight inches or so in length and—“

“Babe,” Gabe cut in, shooting Chandler a rather frazzled glance.

Unfazed, Eden shook her head. “No, Mr. Chandler! It was a polar bear! Miss Tali told me herself!” she insisted.

Dean stood beside me, unaffected by the whole thing. In fact, I thought he may have been grinning. I, on the other hand, could feel the warmth rushing to my cheeks.

“Hmph,” Chandler hummed with a shrug. “Well, I certainly hope the polar bear groomed himself before his arrival,” he quipped. “Nobody likes an unkempt polar bear.” He tilted his chin down, glancing straight at Dean with accusing green eyes. “Right, Dean?”

“Right,” Dean chuckled, shaking his head at his friend just before Chandler turned toward the fridge. Dean tugged me by the waist and led me toward the table, where we took our seats. I sat on his left, and Eden sat eagerly on his right, excited by our presence at the table. Chandler set two mugs down in front of us just as Dean linked his left hand with my right.

“Miss Tali said the bear’s name was Archibald,” Eden chirped, and her eyes followed Chandler as he skirted around the table to take his seat next to Gabe.

“Oh,” Chandler murmured, turning his head to me. “You always were an odd one. Most women pick something a little more butch for—“ He was interrupted by Dean’s laughter, so abrupt and startling that he nearly choked on his coffee. I was so embarrassed that I wanted nothing more than to crawl under the table until everyone forgot I was even there.

“It’s n-not—“ I stammered, unable to form words. “It’s not that,” I told him, huffing an unsteady breath.

“Sh, Blondie,” Dean laughed, leaning over to kiss the side of my head.

“She’s actually so pure it hurts me,” Chandler agonized in his usual overdramatic fashion. He let the coffee mug drop on the table with a soft thud as he scoffed. “Being around her makes me feel sinful and unclean.” His eyebrows furrowed at the sight of me, and he had to turn his head away. “Don’t even look at me!” he huffed. “You make me want to say three Hail Marys and drown myself in holy water. It’s not fair.”

“That’s because you are sinful and unclean, mate,” Dean jested with a smug smile. He took a sip of his coffee, but once Chandler looked over, their gazes never broke. Both stared at each other, straight at each other. If I could see behind Chandler’s glasses, I would think he was angry.

“Like you’re one to talk, League protege,” Chandler snapped, unamused. “Don’t act all high and mighty just because you get medals for your wrong-doings. You disgust me.”

Dean gave him a cheeky grin. “Love you too, mate,” he chuckled.

“I didn’t say that,” Chandler hissed, turning away from him and puffing a breath out his nose. Gabe couldn’t fight the grin on his face, even as he gingerly placed a hand on Chandler’s knee, attempting comfort, but Chandler just groaned loudly. “This place is a prison!” he shouted, marching off through the archway, waving his arms and grumbling to himself.

Blinking, I looked to Dean. “He seems angry,” I muttered, and Dean just shook his head.

Under his breath, I heard him counting, “5… 4… 3… 2…”

Right on cue, Chandler came marching back in. “Look, I’m sorry,” he admitted reluctantly as he flopped back down in his chair. “I overreacted.” He paused and turned his head over to Dean. “You deserve all of your medals, and you aren’t a bad person,” Chandler added.

“That’s so sweet of you,” Dean beamed. “If I wasn’t across the table, I could just hug you for that.”

“Ugh,” Chandler scoffed. “Please don’t.” He shook his head rather adamantly he crossed one leg over the other. “It’s too early to be crushed by your biceps, Goliath,” he quipped, then looked at me. “How do you even deal with him? He’s gargantuan.”

I shrugged my shoulders and smiled shyly. “I like his hugs,” I admitted, and my smile widened. “I like everything about him.”

A smile flickered across Dean’s face before he kissed me. I could hear Eden giggling, and I thought I heard Chandler gagging.

“Please stop before I start puking up my kidneys,” he begged, leaning forward and dropping his head against the table. “Please.”

“I think they’re cute,” Eden piped up, smiling radiantly toward Dean and I.

We feasted on a breakfast Chandler had prepared and were ushered out the door with more leftovers than we could carry when it was time for us to go. We said goodbye, promised Eden we would see her again soon enough, and headed home. Compared to the night before, it was almost uneventful. We put the food away in the fridge, then we hung the frames we got from Sam and Alex, all filled with photos Chandler made sure to give us before we left.

While it wasn’t nearly as nerve-wracking, hanging the pictures of us was still overwhelming. It wasn’t overwhelming in the sense that I was frightened. No, not quite that. More than anything, I felt warm all over. I felt a fluttering sensation in every inch of my skin. When I looked at those photos, or the ring on my finger, and especially when I looked at Dean, I felt complete. I felt whole, and that was more than I had felt in a long time.