Chapter 7:

Roswell
New Mexico
Year 2000

Dean was sleeping in his bed – he had been for several hours already. He had gone to bed early since he had no luck getting Liz out with him and he wasn't interested about hanging with Sam all night long.

They had fun at the café; Maria brought some colors to the group and even Liz had sat with them through her lunch break, but then Maria had to go: there was something with her mother. After that Sam had got anxious, because he couldn't stand the looks that Dean and Liz shared. Liz went back to work and eventually Dean had to bend to Sam's will about leaving.

When it was about the closing time, Dean had gone back. He had thought that maybe Liz would like to catch a movie or something, but she wasn't in that mood at all. She had listened to his words, but then refused gently and before Dean even understood it, he was out of the door. From there Dean had gone straight to bed – he had thought that Liz liked him, but now he didn't know what to think. After a fight with Sam about the TV and its volume, Sam had told Dean to screw himself and went to sleep dad's room. Dad was still on the hunt, so it was empty – although Dean hoped dad would come back now, so Sam would get his ass kicked.

It was 03:54 AM, when Dean was suddenly awake. He wasn't quite sure what had woke him up, but automatically he reached to his gun. He could sleep really heavily, and not wake when someone yelled straight to his ear, but he always woke up to strange voices – sometimes it took as small sound as one step and he was ready to action.

Completely still, Dean lay on his bed on his stomach, holding gun in his right hand. There it was again – sniffing voice outside of the front door. Without any sounds Dean got up from his bed – he didn't even bother to put pants on. Heavy breathing could be heard when the sniffing paused. Dean kept himself calm with a deep breath when he moved towards the door.

Steps, anxious steps, which made Dean very nervous. Something that hesitated to come in couldn't be completely evil, so its killing would be harder. Especially, if you let yourself think that thought. So, Dean pushed it to back of his mind when he stood right in front of the door. He waited a moment and...

A knock. It startled Dean, and he almost dropped his gun. Thanks to his fast reflexes, he caught it, before it hit the floor. The knock was surprise – what evil son of a bitch knocked? Dean kept the gun in his right hand and hid it behind his back. With left hand he cracked the door a little, and he couldn't be more surprised about who stood behind it.

She had tears in her eyes, and she looked extremely unhappy. She was unsure how she should be and she looked to Dean with her big brown puppy eyes full of tears. She looked so vulnerable – even more than she did day before. Probably because she wasn't now actually crying, she just looked so lost.

With a quick move Dean threw the gun out of his hand to his bed, so it didn't make a sound when it landed. Then he opened the door completely and pulled Liz to his arms without asking anything or saying anything. He wrapped his arms tightly around Liz and breathed her scent. Cautiously Liz placed her hand to Dean's hip, and Dean stroked her hair. He didn't need to say anything – not that he would know what to say, but the moment didn't even need it. Liz proved that he was right, when she suddenly clung harder on him and grabbed tightly from the back of his shirt.

They stood there like that for minutes. Dean didn't care about the coldness that crawled up his legs or about the numb toes he had by then, he cared that Liz felt even a little bit better. He didn't even have to think why Liz was like that again – he knew the reason was the same son of a bitch as yesterday. And Dean felt like beating the crap out of that little cocky bastard.

Liz didn't cry when she was in Dean's arms, but when she pulled away she looked much calmer and overall much better. She raised her head and looked straight into Dean's eyes. Dean wanted to turn his eyes away, because he felt so naked in front of Liz. Like she could see Dean's soul through his eyes – and that was the place he didn't want anyone to see.

“Sorry that I came here like this. It's four am and I'm weeping again, and I really don't even know what I'm doing here. I can go if you want,” Liz blurted the words out of her mouth.

“You can go if you want. Even though in here you have a chance to get to warm my frozen toes,” Dean said with a grin. Liz smiled at him a little.

“Do I have to do that if I come in?” she asked trying to get a teasing tone to her voice, but failed. Dean took a few steps backwards pulling Liz inside from her hand.

“I can't deny that I would love that,” Dean said when he pushed the door closed. He leaded Liz to his bed and sat down first, gesturing for Liz to follow his example. At the same time he let go of Liz's hand and pushed the gun under his pillow. Liz sat next to Dean.

“I bet that you would,” Liz said and gave Dean another smile, but it was nothing like her happy smile. Silence came between them since Dean had no good, or bad, joke to throw in and he wasn't sure what to say to Liz. Maybe he should ask why she was there, but that would sound like he wasn’t happy that she was there. He was happy, really happy – excited. Maybe even more than excited.

Maybe he should ask why she was so sad again, what had brought her down again. But did she come here to talk? Or did she come here because she knew she wouldn't have to talk, that he would understand without words?

Dean looked at Liz and first time in years, he felt unsure: he didn't like it. Liz looked like a broken angel that needed to be fixed, but Dean just didn't know what he should do to fix her. Hugging wasn't enough, but what else did girls want for comfort?

“I still didn't bring your jacket,” Liz said suddenly. Dean looked at her and for moment he really had to think what she meant.

“My jacket. Yeah, it doesn't matter. I can get it from you later,” Dean said when he finally realized that Liz indeed had his jacket.

Again, the silence. Dean knew he had to be a man and break the silence – he needed to ask.

Dean opened his mouth and closed it again. What if Liz didn't want to be asked? Then he just had to form the question the way that she can get away from the answering if she wanted to. Dean opened his mouth again, and closed again. The names with what he called himself inside his head were the most creative ones he had ever used about anybody.

“So... You want to tell me what is wrong or you just want to hang out?” Dean said and regretted immediately after saying it. Liz's expressions hinted Dean that she didn't want to tell, and she didn't want to say 'just hang out' out loud. Dean sighed and looked the floor. Maybe he should get some lessons from Sammy how to talk emotional things with woman.

Dean didn't reach even the part where he laughed to himself because of the stupid suggestion, when Liz turned his face back to her and placed her warm, soft lips to Dean's. Dean never saw that coming and he needed a second to recover. In that second Liz forced Dean's lips to open and gently touched his tongue with her own. When the tip of her tongue touched his, it felt like a little electric arrows left from that point to all over Dean's body and when Liz's hands wandered to Dean's hair, he was sold.

Dean didn't need any more convincing that Liz wanted him: his body felt like it was burning inside, but it felt so good. Dean wanted Liz, he wanted her badly, but the burning was too strong, too deep, to be just lust. He didn't need more than just that one kiss, and he felt how he was ready to action from that spot. But he tried to calm himself down. He didn't know how far Liz was ready to go and he didn't want to scare her away.

Dean started to answer the kiss and sank his hand into that silky hair of hers. He pulled her closer and she was eager to come, but she didn't get enough of just touching him from there. Without actually pausing the kissing she climbed to his lap. She felt his manhood pressing against her, but it made her hungrier.

Liz's hands were everywhere: they travelled from Dean's hair to his neck and they were feeling Dean's pecs. Dean let his hand fondle Liz’s back under the shirt. Her skin was perfect: it was soft and it felt nice under Dean's fingers. He touched every vertebra, which were really easy to feel, since Liz's back was in a little curve. Dean wasn't sure had he ever seen or felt anyone who was even distantly as sexy as Liz was or even felt nearly as good.

Carefully Dean started to place Liz into his bed. He changed their positions and climbed on to Liz. He started to kiss Liz's neck and ears, every now and then biting gently. Dean felt himself to be hornier than ever, but Liz was like a rare flower that had been given to him to protect. So he was gentle – in everything he did he was cautious. It got harder and harder when Liz grabbed his hair tighter and her nails sank into his back.

When Dean started to move down, towards Liz's breasts, he noticed a small movement. Liz was trembling. First thought in Dean's mind was that he had done something wrong, that he had hurt her. He raised his frightened face to Liz and noticed small tears rolling on both of her temples. Dean started to panic, but the man in him got a hold of him before that. He knew that he just had to come down and take Liz to his arms.

And he did. Dean rolled to the other side of Liz and pulled her close. Instinct took over, when Dean started to sway Liz.

“It's okay, princess, I'm here for you,” Dean whispered and placed a small kiss to Liz's head. He tried to stay calm, even though his lust didn't vanish anywhere and he was so strange ground right now. But he had done it yesterday, so he could do it today too, right?

Liz moved closer to Dean and let herself cry against his chest.

“What's wrong, Liz?” Dean asked after Liz had cried sometime and her cry wasn't so loud anymore. She took a couple deep breaths and took little distance to Dean.

“Max Evans broke my heart,” Liz said looking at the opposite wall. Her tears started to run again, but Dean felt like crying too. He had knew that this was Max's fault, but he had expected a new fight, but 'broke my heart'? Dean felt nauseated when he thought that guy and when he realized the fact that Liz must be deeply in love with him since she was all messed up because of him – second night in a row. Dean felt like getting up from the bed and going out. He needed fresh air, especially when he started to think, did Liz think about Max the whole time they were making out just now? There was no more worry about his over active manhood – the thought of Max had killed it.

From deep down inside came the voice of reason; Dean couldn't leave Liz. She had come to him for comfort and understanding – she had come there to be with a friend and that was exactly what Dean was going to do. He was going to be a friend for Liz now when she needed him. He would have plenty of time to think about Max with his Liz later.

“I'm sorry. You want me to beat the crap out of him?” Dean asked when he pulled Liz back to him. He made his voice sound like it was a joke, but if Liz said yes, Max would find himself from ER, after he had woke up, which could easily take couple days.

When Liz didn't reply, Dean realized that the joke wasn't effective. Which only meant that Liz loved Max so much, that she wouldn't even enjoy the thought of him suffering. Secretly Dean hoped that someone would feel like that about him, and then he realized that he wanted to Liz feel like that to him. If he had that chance that Max Evans did, he wouldn't ever blow it. Never.

“What did he do?” Dean asked and this question was actually easy to get out, because he was really curious about it. But Liz wasn't as eager to talk about it, and it was pretty obvious. When Liz hesitated Dean said:

“It's okay. You don't have to tell me. I'll be here even if you said nothing.”

“No, I can tell,” Liz said in a stuffy voice and she was clearly holding back her tears, “He made another girl pregnant. That was what he told me yesterday at the Crashdown, and now he is leaving. He is taking her out of here, to home.” Liz's voice caved in. She cried out loud and Dean stroked her hair trying to take in what he just had heard.

“That son of a bitch,” Dean mumbled between his teeth. This Max guy was really starting to make him mad. Dean knew that there was more coming, when he heard Liz trying to gather herself and her voice. He gave her all the time she needed even though he was anxious to know the rest.

“He’s leaving us all here. He’s leaving us here, while there is a killer on a loose. He won't have time search who it is, because they are leaving tomorrow night,” Liz talked fast and it sounded like she had just waited someone who she could talk all this.

“Killer?” Dean asked without believing his ears. He had believed that Liz was a normal small town girl, with normal teenage drama, but a killer? If she tracked down killers, she must be really special child – in a special unit of FBI or CIA or somewhere. It made Dean nervous: his dad, of course, Dean and Sammy on the side, had broken so many laws that he would be in jail the rest of his life. But Dean forced himself to concentrate to Liz and the matter on hand. The thoughts of John in jail were little too disturbing.

“Someone killed Alex. Oh my God, Alex...,” and after that Liz wasn't able to say anything. She was investigating her friend's murder, so she probably was doing it just because she was the only one who could and did. It made Dean say it.

“Liz.. Whoever killed your friend.. That son of a bitch is going to pay, and I will promise you that I will be there with you. I will find the guilty with you. I will be there watching that prick in the eye, when the last is said,” Dean promised and he was so mad. Max had left Liz alone trying to find possibly extremely dangerous murdered. If Dean just got Max in his hands...

After Dean's little speech, Liz started to cry harder, and Dean couldn't make his mind was it good or bad thing.

* * *


They laid there, Dean holding Liz close to him trying to block away the pain from her and protecting her from whatever still might come. Liz curled up in Dean's arms quietly crying, hoping it would take away all the pain she was feeling inside of her. She didn't want to feel it anymore and Dean didn't want her to be in such a pain. It was almost six am when Dean spoke again.

“Princess, should I take you home?” Dean asked, but Liz shook his head against Dean's chest.

“Why not? Won't your parents be worried if you won't be home in the morning?” Dean asked, knowing the answer and knowing that Liz had to agree with him. It was hurting him to let Liz leave, but she had to go home.

“Okay then,” Liz said and sounded beaten. She got up from the bed and she looked like a hell. Her eyes were red and a size of the golf ball, her hair was messy and clothes were wrinkled.

“I look horrible,” Liz noted when she was feeling her face with her hands. Dean got up from the bed and grinned at Liz.

“Well yeah, a little,” Dean said and laughed when Liz gave her an ugly look. Dean put his pants and long sleeved shirt on. After putting shoes to his feet, he quickly took his gun with him.

“Let's go,” Dean said, took Liz's hand to his and they got out of the motel room together.


* * *


Liz had advised Dean to drive to the back so Liz could get in through her balcony, so her parents wouldn't wake up. Dean had done like Liz told him to and now they were sitting in the Impala watching Liz's balcony.

They sat there in silence; neither of them was brave enough to break it. Only sounds that were heard were breathing of two human beings, who both were in the same situation that couple hours earlier: they had no clue what to say. When Liz was crying it had been easy, they didn't even have to look at each other, but now again there was a moment when Dean thought was he supposed to say something to make it easier.

“I'm sorry about what happened. I usually don't cry like that. It has just been... hard,” Liz said finally.

“You don't have to apologize for that,” Dean answered and really meant it. He was just glad that Liz had felt that he could be trusted. They both were silent again, lost in their thoughts.

“Would you mind coming with me? I don't feel like being alone,” Liz said suddenly, surprising Dean. He just stared at her like she had just said something really odd.

“Sorry, forget it,” Liz mumbled turning red and tried to open the door.

“No wait! Of course I wouldn't mind, but what about you parents?” Dean talked quickly, before Liz was able to leave. Liz turned her head to Dean and looked him straightly in the eye.

“They don't have to know.”


* * *


Liz curled up next to Dean on her bed under the covers. Dean thought he’d never get to sleep, but sooner than he realized he was completely knocked out, arms around Liz.
Chapter 8