|Where We Belong
Author: stephaniew PM
A little overwhelmed by her feelings for Dean, Sophia takes a job on her own, wanting space to think. Will she stay away? Or will she find that being with him is where she belongs?Rated: Fiction T - English - Romance/Angst - Dean W. - Words: 2,869 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 5 - Published: 10-20-11 - Status: Complete - id: 7480210
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
A/N: So, if you've read my stuff before, you know I'm all about the angst, and this is yet a another example. I got to thinking about how overwhelming and all-consuming love can be, especially when it's right, and this is the result. Hope you enjoy!
The title was inspired by the song of the same name by Thriving Ivory. It's a great song and I think it fits here.
Always the most thanks and the most love to Mali Bear's Buddy for everything she does for me every day. She makes my world better and I'm glad to have her. She's got some excellent stories working, so please go show her some love!
Disclaimer: Don't own anything related to Supernatural.
Where We Belong
Sophia feels eyes on her, burning the back of her neck. She doesn't have to turn around to know who it is. She swears under her breath. She knew it was a bad idea to come to this thing, but never in her wildest dreams had she thought he'd be here.
She sucks in a few deep breaths, trying to slow her pounding heart. Lifting her champagne flute to take another sip, her hand is shaking so badly she nearly spills it. She quickly sets it on a nearby table to avoid making a complete fool of herself.
She briefly considers bolting for the door, but it's pointless to run. He'll always find her. They're connected in ways she doesn't fully understand, but can't deny. And God help her, it's not like she hasn't missed him. Hasn't thought about him every second of every day. Hasn't dreamt of him every night.
His footsteps stop just behind her. She can feel the warmth emanating from him and she closes her eyes.
"May I have this dance?"
His voice is rough with tightly controlled emotion. It smooths over her like a caress. She should have run when she had the chance, but now she's caught.
She turns to face him, her face a carefully arranged mask. "I don't think..."
Before she can complete her thought, he's snatched her hand and is dragging her onto the dance floor. She frowns, but doesn't resist him. She doesn't need to have the entire ballroom staring at them.
He wraps his arms around her, pulling her close, swaying easily to the music.
She relaxes into him, trying not to think about how good it feels to be in his arms.
"What are you doing here?" she whispers, her eyes on the collar of his shirt.
"You were supposed to be home two days ago," he replies. His voice stays even, but she can feel the tension vibrating through him.
"I...uh...I ran into some issues. It's taking longer than I thought," she stammers.
His arm tightens around her. "Don't lie to me."
She sighs softly. "I'm not...entirely." She shrugs. "It did take longer than I thought."
He pulls back to look at her. "Sophia..." he says warningly. "You didn't come home and you haven't called. What's going on?"
Her eyes meet his and skitter away. She feels the tension in him increase.
"Were you planning on ever coming home?" he asks. His voice is strained now.
"Were you?" His voice is fierce now. Pain, anger, confusion all flash through his eyes.
The last notes of the song fade away and the dance floor starts to empty. She glances around and decides this conversation needs a different venue.
"Why don't we take this outside?" she says, nodding toward the back door.
His eyes rake over her face, but she keeps her calm façade intact. He nods, somewhat reluctantly, and tightens his grip on her wrist as if she might disappear.
The evening air is still warm as they push through the doors to the patio outside. None of the other party goers have gone looking for air, so they're alone.
She pulls her arm free and steps away, watching him carefully.
He crosses his arms on his chest and stares at her. "You haven't answered my question."
She considers making him repeat it, but given the look on his face, that's probably not going to help the situation. She decides to go for honesty instead.
His eyebrow raises. Another flash of pain floats through his eyes and she feels an answering stab.
"What the fuck does that mean? Probably?"
She shakes her head, tries to fight back the tears. Damn it, she stayed these extra days so she wouldn't have to have this conversation with him.
"I needed some time. Time to think."
"Think about what?"
He sucks in a sharp breath. "About us? Why?"
His hurt and confusion are palpable now. They touch her. Make her want to throw herself in his arms. Tell him it wasn't important. Tell him to take her home. She should have known this was a pointless exercise.
"I didn't want to hurt you," she says. "But I have anyway, haven't I?"
He jams his hands into his pockets and he's not looking at her anymore.
"I don't understand," he says finally.
She sighs. "I know. I'm sorry." She wraps her arms around herself, shivering despite the warm air. "I'm not sure if I can explain it either."
His jaw tightens. "Try."
"This is going to sound all wrong, but please try to understand," she begins. "I needed to think. And I can't think when you're around." She huffs a humorless chuckle. "Or at least I can't think straight when you're around. This...thing...between us...it's always there. It's always pulling me back to you. And I was starting to feel...I don't know...like I wasn't really me anymore.
"So I thought since this job only needed one person, I could come up here and get some distance. Get some space. Sort through what I was feeling. Try to get some perspective."
"And you couldn't tell me because...?" he asks.
"Because I didn't think you'd understand because I can't explain it. And I didn't want to hurt you."
"So you said. Never occurred to you it might hurt me to think you weren't coming home? Or that you wouldn't return my calls? You thought I wouldn't notice maybe?" He sounds angry now. Hurt and angry. "But hey, maybe not since I'd already turned you into something else. Someone else. I guess that was when I wasn't busy clouding your judgment."
She drops her head, watches as a tear splashes on the concrete. God, she hasmessed this up. She'd never meant for this. Apparently she can't think straight whether he's around or not, because she clearly didn't think through what she was doing.
"I'm sorry," she chokes.
She shudders as more tears follow the first to ground under her feet. She's afraid to say anything more. Afraid she'll cause more damage, if she hasn't completely destroyed things already.
He sighs and she can hear him turn back to the building. "I'm going home," he says heavily. "You do your thinking. If you're not home by Friday..." He swallows hard and she can barely hear the last words. "If you're not home by Friday, I won't be there when you do come back."
His footsteps echo on the gritty surface. The door clanks behind him with such finality, she falls to her knees and doesn't bother to muffle the tears anymore.
It's early the next morning when she stumbles out of bed and to the shower. The sight of her face in the mirror makes her cringe. Eyes swollen and puffy. Streaks of mascara and eyeshadow everywhere. The flatness of her gaze is the worst.
She'd made her way back to the hotel not long after Dean left her at the ball. She'd spent the remainder of the night alternating between crying, sleeping and pacing the floor. Which accounts for the rode hard and put away wet look she's currently sporting.
Stepping into the shower, she sighs as the hot water stings her skin. The worst part was she'd spent most of the night berating herself for letting him walk away. Not that she could blame him, given what she'd told him. What was he supposed to think when she told him his love for her was something she needed to get away from?
All she'd wanted was a few days with a clear head to think about their relationship. It was so...much. It was intense. It was overwhelming. It was like nothing she'd ever felt before. And on some level, it terrified her.
But after spending a lot of time here, alone, she realized it was what she wanted. Hewas what she wanted. It wasn't that she wasn't herself anymore, rather she was a better, stronger version of herself. A version who was confident she was loved. A version who finally knew who she was and where she belonged. And where she belonged was with Dean.
The water starts to run cold, so she turns off the shower and dries herself off. Her mind continues to whirl as she dresses and packs her bags. She doesn't need until Friday to decide what she wants. She's known all along.
It's only Thursday afternoon, but she still breathes a sigh of relief when she turns down the driveway and sees the Impala parked out front. It had certainly occurred to her he might decide she wasn't worth it and leave before Friday.
She brings the car to a stop and tries to calm her pounding heart. She's still not exactly sure what she's going to say, how she's going to make this right. And of course, she doesn't get much time to ponder because he appears on the front porch.
He doesn't come down to the car, just stands there, watching her. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and she can't read his face from here. It might be too much to hope for that he's happy to see her.
Taking one last deep breath, she steps from the car and walks up the path. As she gets closer, she can see he doesn't look much better than she did this morning. It gives her a perverse sense of hope to think he'd spent a sleepless night too. It means he still cares.
She stops at the bottom of the steps and looks up at him hesitantly. "Hey," she says softly.
"I thought you had some more thinking to do," he says finally. His face gives nothing away.
She shakes her head. "Not really. I suppose I've known all along where I belong, but I was too blind to see it. Too afraid to see it, honestly."
He blinks slowly. Nods. "And where is it you belong?"
"Here. With you." She hesitates. "In your arms."
She nibbles at her lip as she waits for his response. It feels like an eternity. Like her whole world is hanging in the balance and she doesn't know which way it'll tip.
Slowly, he pulls one hand from his pocket and holds it out to her.
Before another breath is drawn, she's up the steps and hurling herself at him, nearly knocking him back into the door.
His arms surround her. She buries her face in his neck, breathing him in. She starts to tremble as she realizes how close she came to losing him. To throwing this away because she was afraid.
"'I'm sorry," she babbles against his neck, "I'm so sorry. I don't know what I was thinking. I was so stupid. I..."
"Shhh," he whispers, tugging her face up to his, "shhh, it's ok, baby. You're here. It's ok."
And then his mouth is on hers and everything else disappears. His kiss is hot and reckless. His tongue slides against hers as his hands roam urgently over her body. He starts to back up into the house, but crashes against the door.
With a groan she presses her body against his, her softness breaking over his hardness like waves on a beach. Her hands slide under his t-shirt, caressing his warm skin.
He reaches one hand out and gives the doorknob a twist, sending them stumbling into the house. Breaking the kiss, he takes her hand and nearly drags her up the stairs and into their bedroom. Once there, he snatches her back in his arms. Pushing the hair back from her face, he catches her gaze with his.
"You are going to tell me everything. Explain everything," he murmurs, dropping soft kisses over her face.
She nods. "I know."
He nibbles along her jaw. "But it's gonna have to be later," he mutters, "because right now I need you."
"I need you too," she whispers. She arches toward him as his hand finds her breast, strumming the nipple through her lacy bra. "I need you so much."
He pulls her shirt over her head and presses heated kisses over her neck and chest. His fingers make quick work of the clasp of her bra and he tosses it to the floor. He steps back, taking a deep breath, trying to slow things down just a little.
"I don't want to rush this," he rasps. "I want to taste all of you. I want to touch every inch of you." His gaze rakes over her. "I want you to feel everything. Feel how much I need you."
She shivers under the heat of his gaze. "Dean..." she whimpers.
He pulls his own t-shirt off, his eyes never leaving hers. Taking her hand, he leads her to the bed. He tosses back the covers and moves her to stand at the edge of the bed.
Kneeling in front of her, he unbuttons her shorts and drags them off. He runs his hands up over her smooth calves, the backs of her knees, her thighs to her waist. Soft kisses pepper her hip and stomach. More kisses along her ribs, over her chest, back up to her mouth.
Their tongues duel as he lowers her back to the bed.
Wakefulness finds her slowly. Her eyes flicker open. It's dark outside, but there's a full moon providing enough light to see. She's on her back, Dean's arm and leg draped over her. The warmth and weight are comforting.
She looks over at Dean. He's sleeping peacefully. The moonlight on his skin makes him glow. She slides her hand lightly up his arm and he stirs.
A smile crosses his face before he opens his eyes. "Hey," he says, voice husky with sleep.
"Hey yourself," she replies. "I didn't mean to wake you."
He lifts a shoulder. "S'ok," he mumbles sleepily. He turns her toward him and leans in for a gentle kiss. He watches her for a moment, then says quietly, "I really wasn't sure if you'd come back."
She slips her hand over his cheek, falling into his beautiful green eyes. "That was a foregone conclusion. Never really had a choice."
"No choice? You always have a choice," he replies with a frown. "I don't want you to feel like you have to be..."
She interrupts him with a finger over his mouth. "No, babe, that's not what I mean." She takes his hand and places it over her heart. "This had already chosen a long time ago."
Moving his hand to her temple, she says, "This just took a little longer to catch up to that reality."
His eyes search hers. "You're sure this is what you want? That I'm what you want?"
"I've never been more sure of anything. I'm just sorry I had to nearly lose you to see that." She kisses him gently. "I never meant to hurt you, Dean. I was afraid of how intense things are between us. Afraid of how much I love you. And I let that fear take over for awhile."
He rolls to his back, pulling her over him. "Things can get kinda extreme around here," he murmurs, his hands drifting over her back. "I do love you though. More than I ever thought possible."
She sighs softly, melting over him, drowning in his warm gaze. "That was the one thing I was most sure of," she whispers. Brushing her mouth over his, she continues, "And that's what brought me home."
He tangles his hands in her hair before devouring her mouth. His lips move over her jaw, down to her throat. "Where you belong."