Topic: Crash Into Me

Dean Winchester

Date: 2011-08-12 19:24 EST
You come crash into me And I come into you I come into you In a boy's dream In a boy's dream

(The following is cross-posted from Of Gall and Grangers and is based on live role-play with Paige's awesome player. Lyrics from "Crash into Me" by the Dave Matthews Band.)

~~~~~

The streets were dark and there was rolling thunder off in the distance. Rain began to fall as if the skies were crying for her. Well if that just didn't complete her evening. The sheer plum fabric was soaking up the rain like a hungry sponge. Hurrying down the street with only the rain and murky street lamps to keep her company, Paige tried to work out her next course of action. With the idea of bunking in the inn for the night, if just to get a night's rest, she started there.

She would need to call work and see if Fiora had returned. How was she going to explain things to her boss" So lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize a car was barreling her way until it was too late. There was nothing she could do and thus stood there like a deer caught in a hunter's sight.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEECCHHH! CRASH!

A rushing sigh of relief left her when she was left intact, the car swerving to barely miss her. Close enough that she felt it breeze by. Once the shock faded she looked to find a beautiful black Mustang nose deep against the half-bent light post. Throwing her safety aside she quickly ran over and knocked on the driver side window. "Oh my gosh! Are you okay?"

When she was given no answer she reached to pull the door open. The first thing she was greeted with was Ronnie Van Zant singing "Free Bird". There, bent over the wheel, was a young man. She couldn't make out much of him but she saw that there was blood involved. He already looked banged up by the bandaged hand that hung at his side.

He groaned, startling her into action. "Oh no you don't. Take it easy." Reaching out she eased him back into the seat so she could better assess where the bleeding was coming from which seemed to be his forehead. "You are bleeding." She voiced her concern as well as letting him know the reason why she was being so cautious.

"Can you speak" Do you know your name?" The concern grew as she asked the questions. What if he had a terrible concussion' It only came to her a few minutes later that he could've been a hit man hired by Junior to 'properly' be rid of her. It didn't matter. He was injured and she had to help.

"What....happened?" he asked, his voice strained and thick with grogginess. "Who're you?"

He sounded terrible and she couldn't see him all that well or she would claim he looked just as bad as he sounded. The over layer of her dress was removed. Pain shot through the broken hand as she forced it to work, stripping away a piece of the fabric. She moaned at the pain but tried to work past it by dabbing at the blood that was dribbling into the young man's eye. "You almost hit me. Never mind that. Do you remember your own name?"

"What the hell were you doing in the street?" he managed to ask, though the words were strained and faint and it seemed to take a supreme effort to say even that much. "How bad is it?"

"I was on the sidewalk, dork." He wouldn't give her a name so she gave him one. "I don't know. You won't answer my question." She dabbed a few times carefully at his head, pressing into the wound in hopes of slowing the bleeding. "It doesn't look too bad. If I had a first aid kit I could patch you up but just to be on the safe side we should get you to the hospital. In case you have a concussion."

He scowled, probably for the nickname she chose for him. She watched as his hand found his chest. "Not that bad," he muttered. "I'll be fine." He straightened, wincing in obvious pain.

"You are a stubborn boy aren't you? Hey! No you don't!" She found herself pushing him back into the seat. Her hands were all but moving on their own. "Do you have a cellphone at least' Someone I can call for you?" She needed to do something to staunch that head wound and since she was short on supply she decided to do the only thing she could. Dropping the blood soaked cloth she flinched and started to tear the rest of the cloth into one long strip which she used, even if he disagreed to it, to wrap around his forehead and the wound.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered, seemingly more to himself than her.

His eyes opened and she noticed him watching her rather closely while she worked on his head. Who knew what was going through that head of his if anything at all. She was a snake with two heads" Tying off the ends she checked her handiwork. "Paige."

"Dean," he returned the favor, exchanging names, frowning at her while she fussed over him. "I'm sorry I almost hit you. I....couldn't see."

His apology threw her off and how could she be mad at him now" Her delicate face softened and she gave him a warm smile to show that she held no hard feelings "Dean." She repeated his name. For now she could forget her own problems and help tend to his. "You should be more careful. If you are such a terrible driver maybe you shouldn't be driving such a nice car." Such a wrong time to tease and she knew it but was trying so hard to lighten the mood.

"I'm not a bad driver and I'm not a boy either," he contradicted, narrowing his eyes at her. "Crap. My car." He reached for his car keys, hand still shaking, and pulled them from the ignition, shutting down the engine, the music dying, the only sound that of the rain and approaching thunder.

Yeah, whatever. She nearly rolled her eyes at him and said it. Instead she gave a dainty laugh. It was either at his overall denial or the fact he was suddenly worried about his car. Reaching out with her good hand she pressed her fingertips against his arm, having to lean somewhat into the car to stop his movement. "Your car can be repaired. You need to take it easy, Dean."

She leaned back out of the car to assess the damage but not only that, she was getting soaked and he was in no condition to drive. Seconds passed before her head popped back in. "Move over. I'll drive you home."

"Why are you helping me when I almost hit you?" he asked, turning hazel green eyes that looked a little too dilated toward her, curiously.

The question, while sudden, was an easy one to answer. She tried to nudge him into the passenger seat so she could slide in and get out of the rain. "You are hurt and it was an accident. Unless you were trying to hit me?"

"I wasn't trying to hit you." He studied her a moment, as if deciding what to do. He seemed to decide finally, realizing he was in no shape to drive himself and handed her the keys, sliding over into the passenger seat. "How old are you?" he asked curiously as he settled himself into the seat.

She waited while he slid over before sliding into the warmed driver seat. The door was quickly closed and she pulled the soaked end of her gown from her ankles. "Could you put the keys into the ig-" She stopped in mid sentence. His question had her turning her eyes to him for a good old stare. "You know it is very rude to ask a lady her age." She gestured to the ignition. "Turn the engine for me please?"

He snorted. "A lady?" He looked her over, and she could feel his eyes on her again. "What are you, sixteen?" An odd question coming from a boy who didn't look much older than that himself. "Thought you knew how to drive," he grumbled, reaching for the keys and shoving one of them into the ignition, turning it to set the engine rumbling. "You going to the prom or something?"

"I'm 19! And no." She giggled at the idea of prom and carefully pulled the car back from the partly bent pole. "I was performing today in a concert." She realized once on the road that she had no clue where she was going. "Where to?"

"WestEnd," he told her, looking her over again.

"WestEnd. Now you are going to need to stay awake and give me directions. That and if you've a concussion that would be bad." Her bad hand settled into her lap while the other held the wheel firmly.

"Are you an angel?"

The question was preposterous. She was soaked head to toe and figured herself to make a wet rat look more like an angel. As much as she wanted to look at him as if he had lost his mind she kept her eyes on the road. "An angel" Me" No." She wanted to ask why he'd asked the question but it would have to wait.

"Good, I've never had much luck with angels." He frowned. "You should have that looked at," he remarked, "Doesn't look good."

She could feel his eyes still on her. She tried to concentrate without asking him what his problem was. "Is that why you asked me if I was one?" When they hit WestEnd she slowed the car, awaiting directions. "Hm?" Her eyes went to him and once she realized he was speaking about her hand she lowered her eyes to the hand settled in her lap. The memories flooded and her eyes shot up with a heavy frown to follow. "I guess I should but it has waited this long. It can wait till you are safe and sound at your home." She didn't smile but attempted to use her words to convey her concern.

"No, you just..." he trailed off, not answering her question. "Go right at the next intersection." He wearily rolled his head to look back at her. "I'm sorry."

"For almost hitting me?" She chuckled at him and did as she was told. Since it wasn't her car she was taking every precaution she could. "Don't worry about that. Although I am curious to why you were not paying attention to the road."

"I hurt you..." he told her quietly.

He was assuming her injuries were because of him. Her eyes turned from the window to him and she could tell not only in his tone but the expression he wore that he was truly sorry. Her eyes returned to the window, "No you didn't. These...This was before. A few hours ago. See! Told you not to worry. Now stop giving me those puppy dog eyes."

"Oh."

The single word sounded distant to her and she found herself glancing sparsely over to him to make sure he was awake.

"Turn left at the next street. The loft's on the right." He gave her the street address.

A nod of understanding and she smiled. She found his concern kind of sweet and very kind. When she got to the loft she leaned to one side in order to turn the engine off with her good hand. She turned to him, squinting a bit to make sure he was still awake and aware. Pulling the keys out she offered them over. "Do you need help inside?" She found his eyes were closed and her heart pounded hard in panic.

His eyes open again, his voice sounding a little weak. "No, I'll be fine."

She nearly had a heart attack and was just about to reach out to shake him senseless. A sigh of relief and she shook her head when he spoke. "Is the door key on this ring?" She shook the keys out and opened the driver's door while she waited for his answer.

"Yeah," he answered, not moving from the spot, though he'd told her he'd be fine.

"Good." She swept out of the car and sent the door closed with a soft nudge of palm. Walking around the car she opened the passenger side and reached out to curl her small hand under his bicep. "Come on. I am not going to leave until I know you are safe inside."

Dean Winchester

Date: 2011-08-12 19:25 EST
"Your hand..." Dean pointed out, glancing at her injured hand again. "You should have that looked at."

"Well if that isn't off subject." Paige tugged on him. "Come on, Dean. I can't get you out of the car on my own. Don't worry about my hand right now. Either you get out of the car or I'll drive us to the hospital." She looked at him as sternly as her dainty face would allow.

He frowned up at her and swung his legs out of the car, holding onto the side of the door to pull himself to his feet. "No hospital. They ask too many questions."

"True.." And she wasn't in the mood to discuss what happened to be a bunch of people. "You don't have insurance, do you?" She figured that was why he didn't want to go. Reaching out she curled her good arm against his back with her fingers against his side. "Here, you can lean into me if you need to."

"No," he answered glumly. "Thanks, it's upstairs."

She nodded, kicking the door closed once they were moving and started him to and up the stairs. She was careful going about it, making sure that he was ready for each step before advancing. "Hospitals do ask too many questions. I guess that is why I don't want to go either.."

"Why' Don't you have insurance either?"

She was concerned and amused at the same time by the question. "Not only that but I would be asked all sort of questions." When they reached the door her head tilted and with a flinch of pain she forced her broken hand to move just enough to slide the key into the door. She noticed his own hand had moved as if he were to take the key from her, his fingers grazing over hers. His touch was wet and clammy. Quickly she turned the knob, causing his hand to fall away and the door to open. "Where is the light?"

"It's on the wall, to your right."

"Great!" Using her pinky she yanked the key from the door handle and helped him in first, the side of her arm used to hit the light switch. She'd have to come back to close the door. The light blared, hurting her eyes. After a few blinks she looked over the loft. The door opened into a small living room or den, with a small kitchen off that and a hallway that led to the bed and bath. It was very sparsely furnished and even more sparsely decorated. But there was at least a couch. Her eyes turned to the man leaning into her. "Is the-" And she paused.

For the first time she actually got a good look at him and he was not what she was expecting. She didn't quite know what she was expecting but he was not it. He was gorgeous. He was either a jock from a football team or the bad boy sort that mother always told her to be careful of. They stole and broke your heart without even flinching. His type was the sort that avoided her type. She was far from being a cheerleader and hardly worth his fuss.

Remembering herself she spluttered. "Is there anyplace I should help you to?"

"No..." He pulled away from her and stumbled into the apartment, dropping into the closest chair, rubbing a hand against his chest. "There's a first aid kit in the bathroom."

Her hand fell but quickly raised to close the door. Nodding she entered and tipped her head. Well if that wasn't an invitation if she ever heard one. "And that is...where?"

He lifted a hand and gestured toward a hallway, down which was a bedroom and bathroom.

She kept her attention focused and she was off to the bathroom to gather the first aid kit. It was balanced on her arm with the bad hand on her return, already browsing for the items she would need to patch him up. "Are you feeling any better?" It was called from the hall.

"Let me see your hand."

"My hand?" She tried not to frown as the first aid kit was moved so that she could offer the broken hand to him. His request was a little surprising as was his concern. Her knuckles, and slightly below, were terribly discolored. First finger and third finger bruised and looked as if they might need to be set. The middle was more so, probably broken.

She watched as his fingers wandered over her hand gently, as if she were precious glass he was afraid to break. Her breath caught, trying not to fidget. It didn't hurt all that much but his touch and the feeling it brought about was a completely new thing. It wasn't like pain was unknown to her but this, this was a different sort and she was glad for his tenderness.

"It's broken, Paige. You need to see a doctor....or a healer."

The idea of seeing a doctor made her sigh. "Great.." After her mother's death she didn't want to see another hospital, doctor, or funeral home ever again.

"I can wrap it for you, but you should ice it for a while. It will help with the pain and the swelling. It probably needs to be set. Do you know any healers?" He released her hand as he spoke.

"No. No I don't. I guess I can call Dr. Monceaux and ask if she can look at it for me. She may not ask too many questions...Maybe I can get her to come here. So she can look at you too?" Her hand remained out, in case he did want to wrap it.

"I'm fine, Paige."

He clearly wasn't and she wasn't sure who he was trying to fool.

"And I can't afford to pay for a doctor." He pulled himself to his feet and started toward the kitchen.

She watched him stand and her good hand dove into her bag. "Who said you would be paying." Out came the cellphone and she was already thumbing through the numbers. Her heels echoed in the loft as she followed behind him just in case he passed out which he looked like he was well on his way to doing.

"You're stubborn, aren't you? I can already tell that about you." He grabbed a clean towel and went into the freezer to look for some ice or better yet, a bag of frozen peas.

She found him calling her stubborn quite amusing. "Like you have room to talk." The phone went up to her ear and she leaned to the side. "Can you open the fridge for me?" She wanted to see what he had in there while she was busy waiting for the other end to be picked up. She had already deduced that, by the fact there was no pictures and such little around that he was either living solo or was just hankering down in a hideout.

He already had the freezer open and had to move out of the way for her to peruse the fridge. He grabbed a tray of ice cubes from the freezer and pulled open the fridge door for her.

Tilting her head she muttered when the voice on the other end shrilled a greeting. If one wished to call it such.

"WHAT"! What is so important that you disturb an artist during his performance"!"

"For christ sakes, James. Hi to you too. Is Scia there?"

"Oh ***! Paige darling" Is that you? Yeah the kid is around here someplace. You need something?"

"Uh huh. Think you could possibly send him to deliver some stuff to an address for me?"

"Sure. Doubt he would mind doing it if it is for you. Are you okay' You sound like you haven't slept in months. We cannot have our precious flower wilting on stage!"

"Yeah I am okay I guess.." She moved to the counter to keep an eye on Dean. "My clothes out of my locker at the hall. And see if Scia can bring something from the kitchen."

"Oh of course there is! You know Meme always cooking. She wined and dined us with a half day slow cooked roast with all the trimmings and for dessert was this scrumptious forest cake."

"Yum." She cooed, unable to help herself. She was so hungry and James was not helping. She spouted out the address. "And can you give the doctor a ring for me. Tell her I need her to come see about my hand?"

"Your hand" Paige what has happened to your hand"! Are you hurt darling" Shall I come to the rescue?"

"....Hm' No..No it's not that bad." It could be worse. She watched as Dean continued to do whatever it was he was doing which at the moment consisted of dumping ice cubes into the towel and wrapping the towel creating a makeshift ice pack. When he glanced over to her with those curious eyes of his she smiled. Tilting her head to bring her eyes to the sink she considered the fact he had very little in the fridge. "Bring enough for two." And let Dean just try to say no.

"Oh' For two' Paige! You got some lad to woo do you?"

She spluttered at the tease and muttered. "Shut up James. It isn't like that."

"Oh okay. Well he better be on his best behavior! Anywho! I will have Scia give the doctor a call! She can bring your things on over. Ta-ta dove!"

She smiled. "That would be great! Thanks, James! Hm' Oh sure. Bye!" She flipped the phone closed and she sprouted a smile to Dean. "I hope you don't mind but I will be staying a little longer."

"Who's James?" he asked almost instantly. "Mi casa, su casa." He took up the ice pack and turned to her, reaching for her injured hand and gently laying the ice pack against it.

"James" Oh he's a cello player in the orchestra. Very nice man." She nodded and turned her attention to what he had been doing. The cellphone was shoved into her bag and the bag onto the counter. The ice felt nice against her aching hand. "Good. Because you don't look all that great."

"I've been worse," he remarked, pressing the ice pack against her hand. "What orchestra?" he asked.

She inhaled sharply, not expecting him to press the ice pack down. She felt a wave of dizziness but managed not to yelp or say 'ow'. "Mmm. Thanks." She smiled and watched the ice pack. "The one I play in. I am a violinist and the main soloist for many of our concerts." The smile began to melt as she spoke.

He frowned at her and jerked his head up. The quick motion made her head quickly lift and she reached out with her good hand. "Dean are you okay' You look awfully pale. You aren't going to pass out are you?"

He was already backing away without even offering an answer but lowered himself into a chair at the table.

He didn't look so well and she watched him with growing worry. When he pulled back she took the ice pack to keep on her hand. She followed after him with a look of concern. "You are really bad off aren't you."

"No...Just a headache. Probably a concussion. Just need to relax for a few days." He looked up at her. "Who hit you, Paige?"

Standing near him, nearly hovering, she noticed his skin was far too pale and his pupils looked uneven. She tried to hide the surprised look that his question brought. Turning her head she started opening and closing counters trying to find where the cups were. "What makes you think someone hit me. I could've just fell." How she wished that were true. She felt so shamed about it all.

"You didn't fall. Bruise like that..." He was referring to the mark on her face, almost intuitively knowing from her body language that she was uncomfortable talking about it and hence hadn't fallen. "Someone hit you. Who is he" Boyfriend?"

Her hand left the counter she was digging into. She didn't realize that she had been trembling. She didn't want him to ask anymore. Her eyes were already filling with tears. Shaking her head she turned her back to him. "I don't have a boyfriend."

"Paige..." His started, gentling his voice. "Who did this to you?"

She couldn't tend to the task of finding that glass any longer. Her good hand curved to her mouth to muffle a sob. Her head started to shake lightly, tossing the unpinned curls. "My father.." she finally answerec him.

"Your father?" he echoed in shock and disbelief. He found his feet again, his heart going out to her, wanting to comfort her somehow. He turned her gently to face him, his hands on her shoulders.

She shook her head more when he turned to her. She didn't want to cry about her sorrow in front of a complete stranger. "Please. Please don't ask any more." She was already about ready to break into tears. Lifting her eyes to his face she attempted to say more. Say she would be okay. She knew it would be a complete lie. If she couldn't play what more was there for her"

"It'll be okay, Paige. I promise."

She found his arms wrapping around her as if he were trying to protect her from all the bad in the world. She might've blushed herself into a new shade of red if it were not for the simple fact she was bursting into tears. Being drawn into an embrace by a hunk of a guy as she was, the only thing she wanted to do was cry. She broke like fine porcelain at the hug and she buried her face. His promise had her shaking her head. "He took everything from me Dean! He took my mother..my home..he took my violin and even my way of playing! How will it be okay"!" She demanded an answer from him. She knew it was unfair to throw it all on him but how" How was it to be okay"

He held her close and rubbed her back gently as he held her against him "Why would he do that?"

"He's a cruel man. Cruel.." Her good hand clenched at the end of his shirt, trying to keep herself from toppling into him fully. Shaking her head she dipped her face more until her forehead, instead of her face, was against his chest. Everything was now blurry and the world was in double. She needed to collect herself. "I am so sorry. I shouldn't be burdening you with my troubles."

"You're not going back there. I won't let him hurt you again." His lips formed a thin line and his jaw clenched tightly.

Her head rocked back and forth against his chest. "He would call the Watch on me if I went back. He took the house and told me to get off the property. He took all of my things." She chuckled a bit sourly. "I was on my way to the Inn." Raising her head even though she knew her face was probably as much a mess as her hair, she offered him a shaken smile. "Thank you, Dean. You are very kind."

He reached up to gently brush the tears from her face, no reply to her compliment. "You should see a healer. That hand is your livelihood."

Her smile disappeared, relaxing a bit to the touch he offered her face. It offered a sense of warmth and comfort to an unfocused world. "What good would my hand do me without my violin." It sounded, to a point, as if she had given up on hope itself. Her good hand tilted up to gently stop his own hand, fingers curling to his palm. "Doctor Monceaux will be here shortly. Please let her look at you too, okay?"

"You can get a new violin, Paige." He sighed, frowning down at her in a conciliatory manner. "If it will make you happy." He pulled himself slowly away from her.

She watched him part from her, realizing that her asking the doctor to look at him might've been the reason. Her lips pursed and she tilted her eyes when a knock came to the door. Silently she moved off to answer it. On her way she dried her face and attempted to fix her hair.

Opening the door she found the tall, black-haired woman on the other side. "Dr. Monceaux. Thank you for coming."

"You know I normally don't make house calls, Miss Lovelace."

The woman's ice cold gaze always sent chills down her spine but the woman's kindness was clear as day. "I know. I'm very glad you came so quickly. I have a friend that is a bit hurt that I would like you to take a look at."

The doctor stepped in, catching Paige's chin and tilting her head to examine the bruise. "Is he the one who did this to you?" Before Paige could even answer the woman was releasing her chin and taking up her broken hand to examine it.

"No. He was in an accident and I am worried about him." She pulled from the woman's grasp and started back into the kitchen. Hopefully Dean hadn't passed out.

She returned to the kitchen with a tall, slender black-haired woman behind her. A tote bag was left on the counter near her purse and she moved to the table to drop off the tied paper bag with two dinners inside. Tilting her head she looked to Dean, trying to make sure he was okay.

"Is this the young man?" The woman questioned and Paige nodded. "Well let's have a look see, boy. Come on." The woman settled her case on the table opposite side of Paige.

Dean watched the pair of women moving. "It's her hand..." He pointed out, his voice sounding weak.

She smiled a bit, pretty sure he was trying to avoid having the doctor look at him.

"Who is the doctor here." The woman snapped and reached out to take his chin. The makeshift bandages were pulled up. "I've already looked at her hand. Hers will take a little longer to deal with so we are knocking yours out of the way. How is your vision' Not seeing double are we?"

"Not unless there are two of you," he replied, meeting the doctor's gaze when she took his chin in her palm.

The doctor's bright blue eyes lit when he said that, finding obvious amusement. "You should be fine. I will leave some pain medication to help but from the looks of it, and your quick wit, you should be back to causing problems in a few days." His chin was pinched at the tease and the doctor stood. "Do you mind if I take Miss Lovelace to the bedroom to deal with her hand?"

Paige silently watched, concern and anxiety mixed up into one. When she heard her name she quickly looked over to the doctor.

He arched a brow. "Lovelace?" he looked over at her. "Um....Sure, I guess."

She watched Dean, who seemed so unsure about allowing the two of them into the back bedroom. Or was it the way he spoke her last name" Like it was a running joke she didn't catch. She decided best to not ask and turned her attention to the doctor who pressed a palm against her back and was leading her to the back room with bag in hand.

"Stop gawking, child. I wish to get home soon."

"Lovelace?" he repeated. She heard him, faintly, from the hall.

Three or so minutes went by in silence until Paige's screech broke the air. It was followed by a second one soon after then first, then silence. That was all that was given from behind the closed door of the bedroom.

The doctor's face showed her dislike for the screaming the younger woman was giving. "All done, Miss Lovelace."

She didn't want to admit how the doctor setting her fingers made the world all the more unfocused. She felt like she was bordering on passing out from the pain alone.

Her eyes rose up when she heard pounding footsteps and the door rushing open. There stood Dean with a look of panic on his face. She must've startled him with her weakness. She felt her body slump and the doctor moved to shoulder some of Paige's weight. A hand cupped over her mouth to silence herself from crying out any more but the tears were hard to hide.

The doctor's cool gaze turned to Dean and a brow swept up.

He looked between them but turned concerned eyes to Paige, seeing her tears. "Are you okay?" he asked, shifting his gaze to the doctor. "Is she gonna be okay?"

Paige nodded to the question but she didn't dare attempt to speak.

The doctor chuckled at Dean and his quick shot questions. Returning to her work the doctor nodded. "She will be fine. She won't be able to use this hand for a while but she will be back to playing in no time. Ah. There we go. If you think you can manage to keep from using your hand I won't put it in a cast." The doctor eyed Paige as she made the 'threat'. Paige nodded a bit numbingly. Finding her work done the doctor stood, stuffing her things into her bag and made her way to Dean. Oh she was giving him a heavy assessing stare.

He straightened as the doctor made her way toward him. "You're just going to wrap it?" he asked, looking over at the doctor's handiwork.

"Her fingers are set and need to heal. If she takes care of it there is no reason for a cast. There are finger splints to keep her fingers from moving so no, I didn't just wrap her hand." The doctor seemed amused by his question. She pulled out two bottles and offered them to him. "This one is for you. Make sure to take one every six hours. It will help any pain you have. If you feel nauseated or pass out, come see me at the hospital immediately. Ice pack your head to help with swelling but you are not in any threat of a coma. Avoid anything strenuous." She seemed to stress that for some reason.

He took both bottles, brooking no argument with the doctor, a small frown at her warning. "Thanks, I'll be fine. Not my first concussion." He looked back at Paige again, wondering what she was thinking.

He was a young man and there were a number of things she could've meant! The doctor laughed and patted his shoulder, letting herself out of the loft.

It was only when the door closed that Paige seemed to attempt to stand. Her legs felt like jello and the ground didn't look as steady as she would've liked. She was trying to form thoughts but they were sluggish at best. "I should-" She started but paused, a look of faded concentration attempting to find her face. "I should go too. The inn-"

He tracked the doctor with his eyes until he heard the door close and then he looked back at Paige from his lean in the doorway. He frowned over at her but remained where he was. "You can stay the night if you want. I promise I won't bother you. I'll sleep on the couch. You can even lock the door, if you want."

"Dean.." His name was spoken bittersweetly. The offer was far too kind for someone who she'd just met. She wanted to decline it. It was his home, his bed. Her mind said one thing but her body spoke another. The world was layered three times and starting to blur. She felt like she was being crushed and she spilled back onto the bed, landing with a huff. Her body half hung off the bed and she tried to push herself back up.

"Paige?"

She heard his voice and the concern it held. It sounded like a distant drone of what it should be. "I'm okay. I just..just let me rest for a few." Even her voice sounded distant to herself. Her eyes were already closed and she didn't seem like she was going to be moving any time soon. "I am not going to lock the door nor do you have to leave. I trust you, Dean.."

She felt his hands against her legs, the wet dress sticking to her even as he positioned her a bit better on the bed and tucked her in. "Goodnight, Paige. If you need anything, I'll be on the couch."

A heavy breath was drawn and released, the butt end of what could've been her earlier sobbing. She tried to speak but wasn't even sure it came out properly, sounding like jumbles to her. Even his voice in reply was nothing but a mumble. The closing door wasn't even noted as the young man left her to her heavy slumber.

Dean Winchester

Date: 2011-08-28 17:21 EST
The following day...

Morning found Dean asleep, sprawled on the couch, an empty beer on the end table, the TV still playing with the volume low, his left arm dangling from the couch, the hand still wrapped in gauze, his right lying across his chest.

Paige woke up sluggish..slow..until the first ray of light caught her face. She bolted upright, her head swimming from doing so. "Gh..Dang it I am going to be late for work.." The blanket was tossed off and she stumbled out, making her way to ..into the door. She didn't hit it hard and stumbled back a bit. There wasn't supposed to be a door there! It came back to her quickly. Instant frown was made while a blanket was pulled off of the bed and wrapped around herself. She reached to open the door softly and peeked out into the hall. It was..quiet. Pushing out she made her way into the living room area to find Dean stretched out..passed out. Was that..a beer" It caused the frown to deepen. He shouldn't have drunk in his state. Shaking her head she pulled the blanket off of herself and draped it over him.

He muttered incoherently in his sleep, a small blue stone had fallen out of its hiding place beneath his shirt and had slid down the cord to lie against the side of his neck. The gash in his forehead looked angry and red and was starting to bruise, but otherwise he just appeared to be sleeping. The food trays that had been dropped off the night before had been stowed safely away in the fridge, though one had already been devoured, the remains discarded in the trash.

She watched him in his slumber for a few moments until she caught herself. What..was wrong with her" Watching over him like she was some type of guardian. No. It was...more than that. What would he think to find her there hovering above him' He was handsome and no doubt knew it! Like the guys on a football team. They knew they had it going on! Shaking her head she raised a hand to a heated cheek and quickly moved her way to the kitchen to collect her purse and bag. Since he was passed out she was going to take the liberty of using the bathroom! As silent as a church mouse she headed for the bathroom and got the shower going.

Unaware she was watching him; it would probably have amused him to know it. And yes, he knew he was good looking, but unlike some, he didn't let it go to his head. He wasn't afraid to use it to gain the attention of a pretty girl, but for the most part, he was oblivious to it. Starting to waken, he heard the shower going and for a moment, assumed it was Sam. He licked his lips and shoved a hand through his hair, eyes slow to open. "Sam?" he said, groggily, forgetting for a moment that his brother had left Rhydin.

No answer to be given but there was something going on in the bathroom. The shower was going full force with the water hot and steamy. After stripping she had stuffed the bags next to the toilet. All too happy to be under the rushing water, even if it was a bit too hot for her delicate skin. Squee!

As consciousness slowly returned, so did his memory, remembering with a sinking feeling that Sam was gone. Then who was in the shower" Katt' He sat up slowly and groaned when his head started to ache, reaching up, fingers finding the gash on his head, which felt puffy and hot. He muttered something under his breath, remembering the accident and hoping his car looked better than he did. And then he remembered Paige.

It was one quickie shower and maybe ten minutes went by before the door opened and a cloud of steam swam out. Towel draped over her shoulders, her dark hair was already curving into near full ringlets. She was dressed in a cranberry colored peasant top and a pair of short jean shorts under that. Rubbing her face with the end of the towel she walked for the living room. Someone sounded content with their bath!

He leaned back against the couch, fingers buried in his hair, thinking about her. The hell was the matter with him' Here I go again, he thought, another pretty girl stumbling into his life, needing his help, plucking at his heartstrings. He turned his head when he heard the bathroom door open, looking over to see her making her way toward him, his heart beating a little bit faster. She looked like an angel, and he found himself speechlessly staring, his heart in his throat. No, no, no, Dean....don't do this. Don't fall for her. She's too young, too innocent. It won't end well for either of you, he warned himself.

When the towel left her face she found Dean awake and staring at her. Her expression favored a bit of confusion and she quickly smiled. "I hope you don't mind me using the shower. You were asleep and I didn't want to wake you." She also didn't feel right crashing and bolting. "How do you feel?"

"Um, hi..." he muttered awkwardly, when she finally looked his way and smiled. "No, it's....it's okay. Did you sleep well?" Small talk, he told himself. Stick to small talk. She doesn't know anything about you yet, and if you're lucky she won't find out.

She felt a heat of embarrassment shoot up the sides of her neck and warm her cheeks to a bright red. "I am so sorry about that, Dean. I didn't mean to pass out like that!" She sat on the arm of the couch so not to disturb his resting place. "I did sleep very well though. Thank you."

He turned toward her, pushing the blanket aside and folding one leg under the other. "You don't have to apologize. I'm glad I could help." He searched for something polite to say, unused to making idle conversation with pretty girls he'd almost run over the night before. "Are you hungry?" He said the first thing that came to mind.

"A little." She admitted and her eyes moved to the beer. She didn't want to nag but..."Dean. Please tell me you were not drinking after I fell asleep." Her hazel eyes shot to him. Dare not lie to this one!

He followed her gaze to the empty beer bottle, evidence he couldn't deny, guilty as charged. "It's just a beer." His younger self thankfully did not share his older self's addiction to alcohol yet, but he saw no harm in an occasional beer, even if it was mixed with painkillers. "You look, umm..." His eyes wandered over her again, unsure if his awkwardness was due to teenage hormones or loneliness or both.

"You idiot!" It shot out from her lips before she could even think about not stopping it. "Just a beer" After what happened and in your condition' What if you hadn't woken up?" She scowled at him but it was quite clear it came out of concern. If she had known he had done it with the medication' He'd be a dead man...boy..

He blinked at her reaction, not expecting her to be upset with him, and he felt suddenly on the defensive. He hadn't answered to anyone in years, not even to Sam. It wasn't that he was angry at her for yelling at him, it was more a feeling of confusion because he didn't understand why. "What do you care" You don't even know me," his own reply out of his mouth before he could stop himself, the self-defense mechanism that pushed people away and kept them at a distance kicking in, mostly out of habit. He pushed himself to his feet a little too quickly and swayed like a tree in the wind.

She blinked at his return fire and for a split second looked as if his words had stung. They had. Sucking in a breath she was silent for long enough to watch to make sure he didn't topple over. "You are right. I don't know you.." She pushed off the arm of the chair with grace. "If you choose to self destruct that is your choice but please..do it after I am gone. I do not want to witness it. Forgive me for caring." She moved off down the hall, heading to the bathroom to retrieve her bag and purse.

He sank down onto the arm of the chair, taking her place, waiting for the wave of dizziness to pass. Self-destruct' Was he really that reckless? He thought about that a minute, the wheels in his head turning. How could she care about him when she hardly knew him' Or was it him that just thought he wasn't worth caring about' He heard her down the hall, probably collecting her things and getting ready to walk out of his life forever. He got up suddenly, finding he didn't want her to walk out on him angry, for some reason. "Paige..." he called, following her to the bedroom.

Dean Winchester

Date: 2011-08-28 17:22 EST
She was already plucking away on her phone and nearly bumped into him on her way out. "What?" She asked. Whatever issues she had deflated but he was right. She was ready to leave. She needed to make arrangements at the inn..make sure that everyone knew at the hall she wouldn't be playing for who knows how long. The longer she thought about things the more she deflated.

He visibly winced, thinking she was snapping at him, seeing her with her phone and realizing he wasn't all that important after all. "Nothing, sorry." He turned back around and started back toward the kitchen to make a pot of coffee. He wanted to ask what she was going to do about her father, but he didn't want to pry. It was none of his business and like he'd told her, he hardly knew her.

"Dean." She followed after him but hovered in the doorway once he was in the kitchen. She was waiting for him to turn around, the camera held up and positioned so that when she had a chance. Click. Picture! Ha! Once it was lowered she stared at him. "Question before I head off." She stepped back and tilted her body half poised to turn. "Or rather..a return of your earlier statement. You do not know me and yet you told me you would not let me go back. Why do you care?" She left him to chew on the statement. She wasn't snapping or even being mean. Simply pointing out something for him to search for answers on. "Please..take care of yourself.." It was spoken softly and even laced with a touch of sadness. She turned away and started for the front door.

He turned his head when she called his name, blinking in surprise when she snapped his picture. He just stood there a moment, absorbing what she'd said. She was right and he knew it. He hardly knew her and yet, he cared. Hell, he hadn't even known her a day. And yet, there was something there he wasn't ready to let go of yet. Though he wasn't sure what, he wanted the chance to find out. He knew it was stupid. He should just let her walk out the door and out of his life forever. It was better that way, for both of them. But when had he ever listened to his own advice" "Paige, wait!" he called, hurrying after her.

The phone had been stuffed into her pocket so she could reach for the door. He would be wrong that she would just walk out of his life forever before making a few waves. She was going to do something to repay the kindness he showed her. She just wasn't sure what yet. One foot in, one foot out but she did stop and turn to look over a shoulder. She figured he was bringing her something she had forgotten. "Hm?"

He stopped at the door, finding himself suddenly speechless, a strong desire to kiss her, but that hadn't gone so well with Katt, and he thought twice about it. Don't kiss anyone you don't feel something for, she'd said. He felt something for Paige, but he wasn't sure what and how was he supposed to know if there were any sparks if he didn't kiss her" His thoughts turned to Katt and the mess he'd made of that and frowned. "I..." he trailed off, whatever he was going to say dying on his lips. What the hell was the matter with him' He felt like a hormonal teenager. Well, hell, he was a hormonal teenager.

Her head tilted and she sighed. Soon she was shaking her head at him. "If you are going to apologize don't. I shouldn't have said what I had. You shouldn't be so reckless though. I am sure you have people who care for you that don't want to see you hurt. And I don't know you..but I know enough. I know you are a nice person who showed me kindness. I don't want the world to be without that. So ..start taking care of yourself better okay?"

He didn't know what to say to that. She left him speechless and that was a rare thing for him. For a split second, he looked like he was going to cry, and then the moment passed and he regained control of his emotions, shoving them safely away. Who cared about him here" Maybe Katt, maybe Quinn. He supposed he owed it to them to be a little less reckless, but he wondered if they weren't better off without him around. He shook his head lightly, wanting to deny it. He wasn't a nice person. He was a cold-blooded killer. That's all he really was. She had just accidentally stumbled into his path and found a chink in his armor; that was all. He had thought about asking her out, on a date, and remembered his first date with Quinn, their initials carved on the tree. 4Ever. But he'd learned since then that nothing really lasted forever. "Goodbye, Paige," he told her, trying not to sound sad. "Maybe I'll see you around sometime." It was taking everything he had to keep a straight face, to not let her see how lonely he was.

She didn't want him to know how it felt like her words had just been shoved back into her face. It was like..telling her to go away. An unsure smile danced on and off of her lips and she turned away. "Yeah maybe. Goodbye, Dean." She started down the stairs, her hand finding its way to the strap of her bag to cling onto it.

What was she going to do' Walk home from the WestEnd" It was dangerous, though not so much during the day. He figured she'd probably called someone and asked for a ride, a boyfriend maybe. She didn't need him, not anymore, and he had no right or reason to ask her to stay. He watched her walk away from him, swallowing hard to force the lump down that was forming in his throat. Should he ask if she had a ride or not' She seemed so sure of herself and anxious to leave.

She already told him she didn't have a boyfriend. The last step was taken and she stopped, glancing briefly over a shoulder before starting her way along the sidewalk. She didn't quite know why she looked back. Hoping he was there watching her leave" How silly would that be.

He raised an arm to take a lean in the doorway, resting his forehead against his wrist, watching her go. He knew she'd told him she didn't have a boyfriend, but a girl like her" There had to be someone. He stood there a moment, listening for a car and hearing none, he started down the stairs, looking like a rumpled mess. He'd just watch to make sure she was all right until her ride came, he told himself. After all, he'd brought her here, it was only right to make sure she got home safely, wherever home was. Had she mentioned the inn" He couldn't remember. Some of the previous night was nothing but a blur. His memory was usually better than that, but he attributed it to the bump on the head.

She found the end of the block and waited for a car to pass before she started across the street. A little more cautious then normal. Wonder why! Wait that was the sidewalk. Nowhere was safe!

She had already reached the end of the block and there was a car, but it didn't stop to pick her up, and if it had, how would he know if it was her ride or some unsavory type" He made a split second decision and decided he couldn't take that chance. She was his responsibility, at least, until she was wherever it was she was supposed to be. "Paige!" he called, hurrying down the street after her.

She heard her name and looked ahead then turned to look the way she had came. The only person she knew in the area was..The one rushing her way. She blinked and turned on her bare heels, walking backwards. "Did I forget something?"

"No, I..." He shoved his hair back from his face as he came to a halt a few feet from where she was standing. "I thought maybe....you shouldn't be walking around alone here..."

"You are a very confusing person you know that?" She chuckled and turned, starting to walk once again but slow enough to show she was waiting for him to find his pace. "Thank you, Dean. I would adore company to the Inn." That way if she got lost she wasn't lost alone!

Dean Winchester

Date: 2011-08-28 17:23 EST
He glanced back at his apartment and his car, left there unattended. He could only hope they wouldn't be tampered with while he was away. He'd planned on driving, but she seemed happy to walk. He shoved his hands in his pockets and fell into step beside her, feeling the need to reiterate his warning in case she ever tried to come here alone. "It's not safe to be walking the streets alone, Paige. Especially not the WestEnd." He wondered if she already knew this or was really that innocent.

She was hungry and only now seemed to remember the food that had been brought. She sighed and tugged on her strap. Maybe there was some place on the way. "I have walked plenty of times from the concert hall to..to.." Her stomach turned at the memory. "Well. You are rather kind to worry about little old me. I doubt anyone would mess with me though. What do I have to offer?" She was broken in more ways than one.

All right, he'd had just about enough of the ruse, the beating around the bush, the naivety. No one could be that innocent, could they' He stopped in his tracks, grabbing hold of her arm and pulling her around to face him, not roughly but firmly. "Stop it. Just stop it. You know perfectly well what could happen to you if the wrong people got hold of you. I don't know what?s going on between you and your father. I don't know why he's such a dick or why he hurt you, but I made a promise to keep you safe and I'm going to keep it! You talk about me not being reckless, and then you walk out my door and onto the streets of the WestEnd alone. It's the WestEnd, Paige! It's not safe here."

She gasped as she was whipped around and she stared at him in surprise. The way he grabbed her ..She tried to pull her arm out of his grasp with sudden panic. It was just like her father. Her broken hand pushed his chest even though it hurt like hell. "Let go of me, Dean. I know we are in WestEnd. I drove you here remember" It..It isn't that dangerous." Was it"

He wasn't holding onto her that hard that she couldn't pull away from him if she wanted to. He let her go, seeing the panic in her eyes and in her face. He didn't want to hurt her, wasn't trying to hurt her. Just the opposite. "Look, I..." He sighed. "I'm just trying to help."

It was the grabbing that sent her on the panic trip and once free she nodded quickly at him. "I know but that doesn't mean you have to fuss at me, geez." She inhaled and squared her shoulders, looking at him. "Do you want to know what is between me and my father" His money. I am a mistake on his life that he tried to pay off, Dean. He paid for my mother's silence. I went to him when my mother was on her death bed, trying to get him to go see her. Instead he thought I went to him for his money. He beat me. And after my mother died he took everything else from me." Her hand rose up to show him the broken hand. With that she turned away from him and started to walk. "So now you know."

His jaw dropped, dumbfounded and speechless. He knew it was bad, but he didn't know how bad. His mind raced as he took it all in, debating what to do about it. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. All the years he'd felt abandoned by his father, ignored even. He'd often thought he'd rather the man beat him than ignore him, but now he wasn't so sure. Even so, he'd come to understand his father, but this....There was no excuse for her father's behavior. Why anyone would want to hurt her was beyond him, money or not. Money wasn't everything. It didn't buy happiness. It just made life easier. He blinked out of his thoughts, realizing she was walking away from him again, and he hurried to catch her, ignoring the dull throbbing in his head and the feeling of dizziness that followed. "What are you going to do?"

"I will stay at the inn for now. My job should be able to cover that." She shrugged a bit. "I will put a little on the side each paycheck to one day get me a new violin. Until then...?" She looked over to him and smiled a bit. "I work and live. What more can I do?"

"The inn..." He frowned, debating which was safer, the inn or the loft. The loft was fairly safe, though the neighborhood wasn't the safest, at least, not at night. He and Sam had stayed at the inn and while it provided temporary shelter, he didn't like the idea of her staying alone there either. "You could stay with me," he blurted out. "Until you get a place of you own, I mean," he quickly added, assuming she wouldn't want it to become a permanent arrangement.

Well if that didn't have her stopping dead in her tracks. She stared at him as if he had two heads. Her lips formed a circle as she tried to think of how even to go around answer him. "Really' After everything I said back there you would offer me that?" She didn't understand. Yes, he was very confusing. "But Dean. Your loft is one bedroom."

It was his turn to shrug. He didn't see how what she'd said to him had anything to do with it. "You can have the bedroom. I don't....I don't sleep much anyway."

He was joking. He had to be. Her hazel eyes watched his face for any signs. "You are serious..?" It was nearly whispered, afraid to ask it out loud. Though he was too proud to plead with her, his eyes seemed to do it for him. He wasn't sure why it was so important to him, but it was. "I know it's not much, but....trust me, it's better than the inn. I've got a kitchen, a car, a bedroom, a shower, a TV."

He was serious! She blinked and now was her turn to be stunned silent! "I would like that, Dean. But on one condition?" She knew it was his home and all but..."Be more careful about your health."

He smiled finally when she named her conditions....well, condition, singular. "Are you gonna mother hen me?" He seemed amused by that, for some reason.

"No but if you act stupid again I am going to hit you with something." Oh so threatening wasn't she" "I wasn't mother henning last night either. It's called taking care of someone. Caring." She reached up to flick the tip of his nose.

"Yeah..." He smiled softly down at her, leaning back to avoid the nose flicking. "I'm learning that." A hint at his history, having always been the one to do the care-taking and rarely if ever having the favor returned.

She missed! Her hand remained hovered, long fingers curling to the air before her hand drifted low. "You aren't used to anyone caring for you, are you?" When her hand lowered far enough she reached to grasp his wrist.

His mouth twitched, a small frown flickering across his face, her question obviously striking a chord. He felt her fingers around his wrist and made no attempt to pull away, answering her bluntly and honestly. "No."

Her fingers curled around his wrist, brushing barely over the bandage. "You shouldn't deny people that care about you to take care of you. It is their way of showing they care. You do it for them. It is not fair to make it one way." Her hand slipped away and she turned to look the way they had come. There was no reason to go to the inn now. She was still hungry though!

He really had nothing to say to that either. She didn't have any way of knowing his past, no way of understanding that it was his job to take care of those he loved and that it had been all his life, that he didn't know anything else. Katt had tried to make him understand the same thing, but he didn't want anyone else getting hurt because of him. Letting her stay with him was taking a chance, but he justified it by telling himself it was only temporary.

"You know instead of making you sleep on the couch we should get me one of those couch beds. It isn't fair that you are sleeping on the couch." She seemed to give that much thought. "Oh. I have one more condition.." Now that she was thinking about it. Her eyes slowly slid over to him. Dangerous like.

Dean Winchester

Date: 2011-08-28 17:25 EST
He was about to argue with her about the couch when she mentioned another condition and he wondered what now, arching a brow as she looked him over, curious. "What?"

She swept to look at him fully and the smile she wore was close to that of a Cheshire. "One day I would like you to either come with me to a concert or come watch me play. I figure you going with me might be sooner." The smile lost strength. "I don't know how long it will take me to heal." Or get a new violin for that matter.

He returned the smile, his expression softening, eyes betraying some sense of caring or compassion. She was slowly growing on him. He lifted a hand and brushed his fingertips against her cheek, careful to avoid the bruise. "I'd like that."

She felt the warmth from earlier while watching him sleep. "I am meaning the whole works. You got to dress up and look fancy and everything." Mum. Conditions!

He brushed a thumb against her cheek, smiling a little at the blush. He still had it, even at seventeen or however old he was, it being the ability to make a girl. "So long as you don't drool." blush.

Her face went even redder and she took a quick step back. "Don't flatter yourself pretty boy." She flagged a hand in the air. She took the touch as nothing but to further his teasing which worked. She was flustered. "Let's head back home then. I am hungry!"

He chuckled at the name calling, having been called that once or twice before, though he didn't think she meant much by it. He reached for her good hand and tangled his fingers with hers, just because he wanted to, his heart swelling when she called the loft home. Home was a word he held close to his heart.