Love; a four letter word that makes life both bareable and unbareable

I looked up from the kitchen table as Dean walked in the front door.
“Hey.” I said as I slid the books to the side. Without a word, he walked past me into the kitchen. “There’s pizza on its way.” I called out to him as I heard the fridge door open and close.
“I’ll be in the garage.” He said, walking past me again, and out the door. I sighed, pulling out my phone to call Bobby.
“Yer.” The man said from the other end of the phone.
“Hey, have you talked to Dean lately?”
“Not since you last called. Why?”
“Cause I’m scared he’s gonna do something stupid.”
“He’s still not doing too good?”
“It’s been 4 months. I know if it was Charlie in the pit, I’d be the same, but he’s just worrying me.”
“All we can do is stop him from doing something stupid and be there when he does wanna talk.”
“I know. Thanks, Bobby.”
“Let me know if you need anything, yer?”
“Will do.”
“See ya, kiddo.”
“See ya, Bobby.”
 
“Here you go. Keep the change.” I smiled, taking the box from the young man and handing him a couple of notes.
“Thanks.” He beamed back and headed back to his car. I laughed as I closed the door, salting it again. I walked through to the kitchen and placed the pizza on the bench. After grabbing a couple of beers from the fridge, I took the pizza out to the garage.
 
“Dinner’s served.” I said, walking through the door, and placing it on the toolbox. I looked up to see Dean beating up the punching bag. His knuckles were split and starting to bleed.
“Dean?” I asked again, trying to get his attention. It was like he was so intent on beating the cr@p out of the bag, that nothing else got to him.
“Winchester!” I yelled.
“I’m not hungry.” He said, switching from the punching bag to the straw scarecrow that he started stabbing with a knife. I saw a gun, next to where he picked up the knife. I moved over to the bench, removing the bullets from the gun. We had already had two house calls from the cops about gun shots, I didn’t want to make it a third.
I stood back to take it all in. He had created a hunting room in here. There was the punching bag, the scarecrow, targets on the walls with knives poking out of them, some with bullet holes in them. Tables with books scattered all over them covered a wall. Above them, there were pieces of paper and pictures pinned to the wall. Everything on the wall had to do with getting Sam back.
I had walked away too many times. This time, he was going to talk to me.
 
“Dean. Put the knife down.” I said, standing behind him, placing my hand on his shoulder. He spun around in attack mode. Two seconds and the knife fell to the ground. He realised where he was and straightened up. His face still looked harsh.
“What?” He asked, turning away to pick up his beer.
“You know what.”
“Leave it.” He said, taking a swig.
“No. I will not freaking leave it, Dean. He’s gone. I get it. I’d be exactly where you are if it was Charlie in the pit. But I hope to hell that you would do this for me.”
“Do what?”
“Tell you that you’re being reckless. You go to work, you come home and you’re out here until the early hours of the morning when you can barely drag yourself into bed. For a three months. That’s all you do. Sam wouldn’t want that. I know that he didn’t want that. That’s why he told you to get out.”
“How do you know what Sam wanted? Have you been poking around in my head?”
“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare accuse me of ‘poking around in your head’. You know damn well that I haven’t. He’s your brother, Dean. Of course that’s what he wants for you.”
“You don’t know what it’s like, Alex.” He said, falling onto the stool beside him.
“So you do remember my name.” I said, leaning against the wall, my arms crossed. He just looked at me, then back into his bottle, like it had the answers he was looking for at the bottom.
“Babe, you have to stop beating yourself up about this.” I said, walking over to him.
“He’s my little brother, Alex. I was supposed to keep him safe.”
“And you did everything you could. He knows that.”
“It wasn’t enough. I should have done something. There had to be something else I could have done.” I sighed, pulling him into a hug. As he wrapped his arms around my waist, I felt some of the tension in his shoulders melt away. I laid my head on top of his.
“We would have found it if there was.” I said, quietly. I stood there for a while, hugging the broken man who sat on the stool in our garage.
 
“I’m sorry.” Dean said, eventually. He lifted his head up, so his red ones looked into mine.
“It’s okay. I get it.”
“I’ve been a dick.”
“Yer. You have.” I laughed as the tension broke in the garage.
“Did I smell pizza before?” He asked, standing up, dropping his beer bottle into the bin.
“You did. It’s cold by now. Come inside and I’ll heat it up.” I said, taking his hand and grabbing the pizza box on our way to the kitchen. He followed me into the kitchen, grabbing two beers out of the fridge as I put the pizza in the microwave.
 
Sitting on the couch after half a pizza and a couple of beers each, I knew that this wasn’t going to be the last time Dean was going to get upset about Sam, who could blame him if he did? But today, right in that moment – We had won just a piece of the old Dean back. And I was damned sure I wasn’t going to let that piece go again.

I just need to vent to someone and cyberspace does a pretty good job of listening to me, without me feeling like I'm burdening friends with my issues.
 

 

 

 

I hate feeling like I can't do anything right at the moment. The fact that I have spent the last week trying to please you and make sure that everything around this damn house is clean and there is food on the beeping table every beeping night, so we're not eating rubbish every night is amazing. Yet you feel the need to -instead of talking to me like I'm an adult - treat me like I'm 5 years old again and yelling at me every fudging five seconds because something isn't being done to your time schedule, or because you don't think that anything else is important enough to warrant putting it off for an hour or so. I'm trying my beeping best. I really am. Nothing is ever beeping good enough for you and I hate the fact that I can't do anything to change that. You make me feel like sh!t from the moment you nearly sprain my bad ankle waking me up at 6:30 in the morning to the time you go to bed with a gut full of scotch at 9:30 at night. You have this really unique way of getting me so mad that I just want to scream at you.
And for a father to make his daughter feel like she's a piece of cr@p... I can't understand it. You wanna know why I go into my room at night? Because I can't stand another minute of your disapproving looks, and the abuse that gets yelled at me when I try and do something.
You tell me to grow up and live in the real world.
I am. I live in the real world. I escape to the fantasy because maybe, I don't like this reality and it's my coping mechanism. Did you ever think of that? DId you ever think that I read so much and watch so much fantasy stuff is because I'm trying to escape? Of course not. Because you are so old fashioned and stuck in your ways that any other freaking way is wrong. There is no other way to do things to you. It's always the same. It will always be the same.
And you know what?
It makes me scared that one day, if I ever am blessed with children, it scares me to death to think that I'll treat them the way that you treat me. It scares me to think that I could ever turn out to be you.

@alexgaskarth
 

 
“Can I ask you something, Alex?” Sam asked, as we set the table for dinner.
“What’s up, Sam?”
“If I ask you do something for me, will you do it? As best you can, even if you don’t like it? I put the placemats down and went to close the doors to the kitchen. Once they were closed, I turned towards him.
“You’re going to let Lucy in, aren’t you?”
“For want of a better term - yes.”
“Okay. What do you want me to do?”
“That’s it? No argument?”
“Of course there is, Sam. I think it’s a stupid idea, but in the grand scheme of things, I understand how you think that it’s the best way to end this. You’re going to need someone on your side when you’re about to have the three people you love most in the world telling you that it’s the worst idea you’ve ever had.” I put simply. I had a feeling that this was going to happen. Everyone did. They all just hoped that Sam would be strong enough to say no. Sam stood there, shocked at what I had said.
“Um… Wow. I should have talked to you about this.”
“Sam, they’re going to be in here soon. What do you need me to do?”
“I want you to get out. Take Dean and get out. White-picket-fence-lawn-to-mow-every-weekend kind of out.”
“Sam, he’s going to want to look for you. We all will.”
“I know. But I want you to be his voice of reason. The one that tells him he’s being an idiot and it’s time to stop.”
“Sam-” I started.
“I can’t ask you to do the same for Charlie, because I know she won’t listen to you. Dean will, Alex. You can make him come around.”
“Sam. I won’t ask Dean to stop looking for a way to get you out. I can take him away, try and distract him, but I won’t ask him to stop looking out for his little brother.” I said, walking around to the other side of the table, pulling plates out of the cupboard.
“Alex-l”
“I wouldn’t ask you to ask Charlie to stop looking for me. I will try and get him away from it when it gets too much, I’ll smack him over the head when he needs it. I can promise you that much.”
“I guess that’s better than nothing.” He said, running his hand through his hair and sitting on one of the chairs around the dining room table.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I asked, sitting beside him.
“I have to. It’s the only way.” I sat back and looked at him. He took a swig of his beer. They were wrong. Sam letting Lucifer in wasn’t him being weak. It was him being as strong as anyone I had ever known.
“Okay. Just- Just don’t let him get to you.” I said as the doors opened and Charlie walked in, gun still attached to her hip. Dean and Bobby followed, grabbing beers out of the fridge.
“Hey.” Charlie smiled at him, sitting on his lap.
“Hey.” Sam smiled back, kissing her.
I felt sorry for him. Feeling like the fate of the world depended on you, wasn’t an easy burden. Especially when the only foreseeable option was to let Lucifer take over your body. For him to get inside your head. I shook off the thoughts of impending doom as Dean sat down beside me. He took my hand and squeezed it, reassuringly. He didn’t know what I was thinking, but he could tell it wasn’t about anything good.
“Here.” He said, pushing a beer towards me.
“Thanks,” I smiled. I looked over at Charlie who was looking at Sam, nothing else seemed to matter to her in that moment. They were both here, both alive and well. There was no war going on between Heaven and Hell. Her fiancé wasn’t about to become Lucifer’s vessel. It was just us - the crazy, dysfunctional family that we were. We were all under one roof for the last time, in who knows how long. We were going to make it count.

I'm not the kind of girl that guys fall in love with. Normally, that's fine. I can handle it, I'm a big girl now. But other times... Other times it gets so lonely that all you want to do is cry. You're surrounded by so many people who love you and want the best for you... But being in a relationship is different. It's a different kind of not being alone. Maybe the reason I feel so rubbish about this whole situation is that I thought I'd found someone who might be able to take that loneliness away. Even if it's just for a short time. Then I find out that he wants to be with someone else. It shouldn't hurt this much, because there was no definite sign that he liked me. I shouldn't have been so hung up in my own world, that I forgot reality. I'm not the kind of girl guys fall in love with. So really, I shouldn't be surprised.

So... It's official. I am helping a friend (Who I thought might be the most amazing guy ever, and kinda started to get butterflies in my tummy when I thought about him) get together with another friend (Who is possibly one of the coolest people I could ever have met at Uni.).
Wow. I don't think my heart has felt this kind of feelings for real people in a long time. It's like some really horrible movie, where you start to ship two people, but you know the guy is going to go for the wrong one. The whole audience wants these two other people to be together, but you just sit back and wonder... What about the first girl? If she had been prettier, if she had been thinner... Would he have noticed her? Or was it the way she acted? Was she too shy? Too loud? Too everything but the right thing?
So you sit there, for the rest of the movie, watching her plaster on that smile, force herself to laugh and grit her teeth while she watched from the sidelines.
Given, in movies like these, the first girl normally turns into nut-job and ends up killing them both.
Reality isn’t a movie though. So this friend will grin and bear it. She’ll be the best friend, watching from the sidelines like always. Because, really? Who was she really fooling when she thought that he could have ever seen her as something more than a friend? She’s got no one to blame, but herself.

The butterflies flew around in her stomach like there was a tornado in with them. Her heart was beating faster and harder than it had in a long time. She was excited and scared all in the same moment. It was possible that she was reading entirely too much into his words, but that didn’t mean her mind would stop. It kept playing things over and over in her head. Being the writer that she was aspiring to be, stories popped into her mind, screaming at her the words she knew she would never have the courage to actually say. A million different scenarios happening all at once. She was in too deep this time. Way too deep. It was a good feeling; to smile just because you remembered them doing something. She was still sitting in the car. Too nervous to get out. She slipped her shoes on and opened the door.
‘Stay calm.’ She thought to herself. ‘You’re not going for just him, remember. There are more friends in there.’ Breathing as well as she could manage; she walked from the car, to the restaurant. She took a deep breath as she opened the door. The quiet from outside was a stark comparison to the noise and hustle and bustle of inside. She could hear people laughing and talking loudly to be heard over every one else. Waiters carried plates stacked high with food, the smells assaulting her senses. She looked around to find her friends. They were sitting at a long table, people she didn’t know where there, but she remembered some of the faces from other events that she had been to. Most of them had their back to her. He, however, wasn’t one of those. He glanced over at her, and a smile formed on his face as he brought up his hand in a wave.
‘Stay cool.’ She thought as she waved back and headed over to them. Before she could reach them, there were two blurs that nearly knocked her flat on her back. People had turned to see what all the noise was over. She laughed, hugging her friends back. There was the mandatory catch up chat, even though they had seen each other not even a week ago. Her eyes kept flicking over to him. He seemed to catch her every time, returning with a smile. The butterflies had turned into a swarm of bees by that time. Her friends finally led her over to the table, sitting her down; them on one side, him on the other.
“Hey.” He said with that smile that made the bees buzz.
“Hey.” She replied.

So, new story. @alexgaskarth has gotten me into this amazing band, and when I fall in love with something, I write about them. I'm working out the details in my head, and trying to get them on paper or screen so I can start peicing everything together. I kind of know a basic plot line, but I need to research it more first, because I know what it feels like to have a newbie fan start writing a crap fiction that sounds nothing like the amazing people it's said to be about.
Tossing up whether it will be a friendship or a romantic fanfic... I guess we'll see what happens.

The Wedding.

Good morning." Oliver whispered in my ear when he saw my eyes open. His arm wrapped around my waist and pulled me back, closer to his chest. "Morning," I replied, turning over so I faced him. He placed a hand on my tummy. "She hasn't given you any trouble, has she?" He asked, his fatherly tone, already starting to develop. "No, baby is perfect. She likes it when you have your hand there though." I said, feeling some movement. Oliver looked at me, his eyes glassing over. "I'll never move it then." "You'd better, cause Mamma's gotta use the little girls room." Oliver laughed as I jumped off the bed as fast as a 25 week pregnant woman could. "Shut up." I mumbled, walking away. "You're family is bloody brilliant." Oliver said as I walked back into the room we were staying in. He was sitting on the bed, pulling a shirt over his head. "Only in small doses." I laugh, finding a dress to pull on. Both dressed and ready to face the day, we walked out to the kitchen to get some coffee. We walked in, just as James put a black box back into his pocket. Retard Mummy and Aunty Bernie both stood with grins on their faces. "What was that?" I half screamed at James. He looked up to see Oliver and I walking in. "What was what?" He asked, putting on his poker face. "The little black box that looked very much like an engagement ring." My voice still loud. "Are you proposing to my best friend?" My grin was huge, matching the ones on Aunt Bernie and Retard Mummy's face. I heard Oliver chuckle. "Love, you might want to lower your voice. I think James would like to be the one who told her." Oliver said, walking over to the kitchen where the jug was freshly boiled and cups were already there. "That was loud, wasn't it? Sorry, James." I said walking over to him and hugging him. "Congrats though." "Thanks, Lisa." Oliver walked over and handed me my cup and motioned with his head to go outside. We left James and Dani's family inside, while we headed out to the back deck. I took a sip out of my cup. "I love your hot chocolates as well, but I really miss your coffee." I said, smiling at my husband. "I can make you some if you like?" He said, wary. "No. No. Flying was risky enough. No coffee, no alcohol, no smoking, no second hand smoke, nothing." "She's going to be okay, Lisa." He said, placing an arm around my shoulders giving me a squeeze. "Aren't you, beautiful?" He added, leaning down to the growing baby bump.

More story.... @alexgaskarth...
Midnight is too far away!!! This is what I do after the kids have gone to bed that I'm baby sitting...
I needs the story man!!
 
Holding onto those last precious moments before their daughter went to sleep. The state she was in, half awake, but so close to sleep. She nestled in between her parents on the couch. Her eyes began to close, but then she would open them again, as if she was fighting off sleep.
"Sweetie," Lisa said to her daughter. "It's bedtime."
"Will you read to me, Mummy?" She smiled at her miracle child and kissed her head.
"I haven't missed a night yet." The young girl got to her feet and held out her hand to her mother and father.
"You too, Daddy." She said with a sleepy smile.
"I'm right behind you." He said, standing up and grabbing his daughter’s favourite book off the shelf. The three of them walked to the young girl’s room. The two parents tucked their daughter in and sat on either side of the bed. Lisa would read the story, while Oliver would read in the character. That was the way that Rose had always remembered it being. Mummy read, while Daddy did the funny voices. As Rose drifted to sleep, Lisa and Oliver gently got off the bed.
“I love you, Monkey.” Lisa said, kissing her daughter’s forehead.
“Love you more.” Rose replied as she fell asleep.
“Love you most.” Oliver replied, wrapped his arms around Lisa as she went to turn off the light.