Sid-er-eus ~ Latin
Heavenly; Starry; Star-like
Stars are holes in the universe; the light of heaven coming from the other side.
Book Two in the Solivagant Series.
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"You hate that I can trust her more than you."
"Yeah. Well, you never did give me much of a choice there, did you Sam?"
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Bouncing out of the bar my jaw drops. My stride yanking Dean to a halt "Oh my god." Stumbling around to the back of the Impala my hands rake through my hair. The rear window completely smashed out. Plain placid tarp waving around. Catching Dean's eye at the driver's door, I jut my hand back towards the bar "And you just let me cave that assholes head in?"
"I-" resting his hands over the Impala roof Dean cringes before he can say it.
Sauntering back around to the passenger door I notice the elated glint in his eye. No matter how hard he shifts and tries to shut it down he can't hide it. Tilting my head, I sharply state over the roof "Stop it."
"Stop what?"
"Being proud-"
Yanking the door open, Dean smacks the blacktop. "I freakin tried", jutting his finger my way over the car, Dean frustratedly growls "It's your damn fault for looking that hot slamming the douche bags head in." My scowl slowly drawing into a smirk, Dean sharply taps the Impala "Get in."
Sliding in, I mutter "You know opposite days kinda failing right?"
Pausing with the keys in the ignition, Dean aggressively juts his thumb back towards his destroyed rear window "Do I look like I'm missing the memo?"
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Dean gazed around the family home with apprehension. But through the thick haze of trepidation and uncertainty, there is warmth. Sam taking the hallway of the family home Dean squares off gun raised through the living room. Gaze flickering past framed photos of family holidays and memories captured. Stills of the life he wants but can never have. Not with this life and not with the girl he's in love with. Not with an Alexander. He knows El won't budge on her stubborn stance and he understands the life he leads is lonely. But it's the life he's chosen. The path he must walk... someone has to. Sweeping through the kitchen and past the family setting he can't help but indulge in a glimpse of them at the dining table. Two children on either side pass the bread and bowl of peas. A meal Eleanor or Dean cooked, not microwaved or bought from a take-out diner. Smiles going around it's a wholesome family Dean only allows himself to dream of in the absence of her warmth-
