feel_human (
feel_human) wrote2023-02-04 11:53 pm
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[AU] down to the Gulf
Recuperating is a long, wearisome process, but she steadily refuses Bill's offers of his blood. "With everythin' that's been happenin', I just need to feel human for a while," she tells him, and he accepts it, if reluctantly.
Sam and Dean keep her swaddled in blankets, ply her with ice cream and soup and oatmeal and eggs, food soft enough not to hurt her bruised throat, and sternly keep her from doing pretty much anything at all but resting, eating, and healing. It feels like ages before her throat has healed well enough for her to eat solid food, but after that point, she gets better faster and faster. After a couple of weeks, she's nearly back to her old self, and the bruises have mostly faded away. She celebrates by baking Dean the long-promised apple pie and by telling Sam Merlotte that she's taking another week off.
There's no chance her little Honda could make it all the way down to the Gulf, even after Dean fixes what René had broken. Jason surprises her by offering his truck – she doesn't take him up on it, but she's touched – but a rental's a lot easier to manage when she's not the only one paying for it.
She leaves the house in Dean's care, warns him that Tara will be stopping by to make sure the place is still in one piece and asks him not to stake the neighbors, then slips into the passenger seat, her bag in the back with Sam's backpack. And then they're gone, gone, cruising southwards away from Bon Temps and vampires and everything that's happened. It's perfect, and that's even before they get to the Gulf.
She's not prepared for the crystalline water, the massive arcing expanse of sky, the soft white sand. It's the most beautiful place she's ever seen.
Sam and Dean keep her swaddled in blankets, ply her with ice cream and soup and oatmeal and eggs, food soft enough not to hurt her bruised throat, and sternly keep her from doing pretty much anything at all but resting, eating, and healing. It feels like ages before her throat has healed well enough for her to eat solid food, but after that point, she gets better faster and faster. After a couple of weeks, she's nearly back to her old self, and the bruises have mostly faded away. She celebrates by baking Dean the long-promised apple pie and by telling Sam Merlotte that she's taking another week off.
There's no chance her little Honda could make it all the way down to the Gulf, even after Dean fixes what René had broken. Jason surprises her by offering his truck – she doesn't take him up on it, but she's touched – but a rental's a lot easier to manage when she's not the only one paying for it.
She leaves the house in Dean's care, warns him that Tara will be stopping by to make sure the place is still in one piece and asks him not to stake the neighbors, then slips into the passenger seat, her bag in the back with Sam's backpack. And then they're gone, gone, cruising southwards away from Bon Temps and vampires and everything that's happened. It's perfect, and that's even before they get to the Gulf.
She's not prepared for the crystalline water, the massive arcing expanse of sky, the soft white sand. It's the most beautiful place she's ever seen.
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She considers it as she looks around, blinking in the sun. "We could go get changed and spend some time on the beach. There's still a few hours before it'll start gettin' dark. And I bet you'd like a swim after that long drive, though I don't know how refreshin' this water might be, it bein' so warm."
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It’s kind of nice for that to be the only thing to worry about, at least for now.
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By unspoken agreement, they really haven't talked too much yet about the next few weeks and beyond, and she's not sure she wants to get into it right away here, either. For now, she squeezes his fingers and gives the stretch of beach around them a satisfied look. "And if you want to do any work or research, I won't tell on you."
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Sam swings their hands a little as they cross the beach, consciously keeping his pace to hers.
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When he goes – whether she goes with him or not – he'll be so busy, and so will she. Who knows when the next time they'll just get to luxuriate in each other will come?
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It hadn't taken the last few weeks for her to realize how much he likes fresh vegetables, but she hadn't been in much of a position to provide them for him, either.
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He slides the deck door open for her.
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She heads inside and sets her sandals down near the door, then goes to retrieve a small insulated bag from inside the weekender she'd packed and holds it out to him with a smile. "Help yourself, honey."
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She grabs her bag and moves into the bedroom, then searches through her clothes for one of the bikinis she'd brought, deciding on a sunny yellow polka dotted one.
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A few minutes later he’s finished his snack, assembled a stack of towels, and is searching the kitchen for a picnic basket.
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"What're you lookin' for?"
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He turns around from the highest shelf over the cabinets and nearly drops the picnic basket when he sees her. “Wow.”
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She'd felt so rotten for so long, and then it had been them and Dean in the house. It's nice to see him looking at her with this smacked-open look on his face.
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She's gotten so much better in the last couple of weeks, but he can't help but still treat her as if she's a little more fragile.
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He's been so careful with her ever since he found her there in the graveyard, and it's nice, considering some of the deeper bruises still dust her skin, but it also feels impossibly good to be close to him. "Want to go get yours on?"
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"Will you grab the sunscreen, honey?" she calls. "It's in my bag."
Not that she uses it all that often, but he could probably use some on his shoulders.
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"Here you go."
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