Keeping up with the Joneses

Part Six

It seemed like they were out in the middle of nowhere, and Sara had to pee. Bad. She looked around frantically for any sign of somewhere to stop. Sure, she had peed in the woods before, but it was dark now and she didn't want something sneaking up on her while she was doing her business. All she wanted was indoor plumbing.

To her relief, a bright red and yellow sign began poking out over the trees leading them to a bar. Sara hit him on the shoulder a couple of times, and he finally gave in and pulled into the parking lot.

"Hallelujah, sweet relief," she sang as she ran in the doors, Dean following her with a grin on his face.

While she did her thing, Dean sat at one of the barstools and ordered a beer for himself and Sara. She came out, looking extremely happy with herself, and sat next to Dean. He had his attention turned to a blonde woman who was unashamedly flirting with him. This made Sara want to puke, an all too familiar feeling of jealousy springing out. She walked around the bar, finishing her first beer and grabbing a second.

She was extremely buzzed by the end of the second beer, and came up to Dean and the women with a blush on her face. To Dean's surprise, Sara didn't sit next to him, but instead sat on the opposite side of the woman. She turned, and Sara took in the clothes reminiscent of hippies in the 60s. The girl had a smell to her, as well. As though before she entered the bar, she had been smoking a certain substance.

Shamelessly, Sara put her hand on the girl's knee. "I like your hair." She reached up and touched it, twirling it around her pointer and middle finger.

"Thanks, I like your rings," she said, grabbing Sara's hand to look at them more closely. Dean looked between the two girls with a shocked expression on his face. His eyes darted between them, as though his biggest and best fantasy were coming true.

"You have what I think you have?" Sara grinned stupidly at the blonde who nodded.

"Come on," she took a tighter hold of Sara's hand, pulling her outside and to her SUV.

Dean watched them go dumbfoundedly, mouth agape and looking around to see if anyone else saw what he did. After a few minutes, he decided to go look for her. They had to get back on the road if they wanted to reach Sam's at some point this year.

"Sara?" Dean looked toward the SUV that the blonde had pulled Sara to, finding it empty. Then, he heard giggling coming from the other wall of the building. He rounded the corner, seeing Sara kissing the blonde who was pinned against the wall. His mouth again fell open, looking at the burning 'cigarette' and the beer bottle that she held in her hand. The blonde's hands were running up and down Sara's waist, moving to run through her hair.

Sara pulled away, looking over at Dean with mock surprise. "Hey there, Gatsby, this isn't a show for your pleasure." The blonde giggled, taking the lit 'cigarette' from Sara and puffing on it.

"Yeah, well, we gotta go, muchacha." Sara was now puffing away, the cigarette held by the blonde. She smiled, taking a sip of her beer before leaning her back against the wall.

"Whatever, fun police. I'll meet you in the car, just give me a minute." Dean rolled his eyes, but walked away anyway, looking back to see Sara kissing the blonde again. He dropped into the Impala, starting the engine and pressing his fingers to the bridge of his nose as he tried to rid the image of Sara kissing that girl from his mind. She eventually fell into the car as well, reeking of what she was smoking and giggling like a crazy person.

"Have fun?" Dean asked bitterly.

"Aww, what? Is Dean-o upset that little ol' Sara stole his girl toy?"

Dean sighed. "You're still just as flirty when you get drunk. And you're still just as much of a lightweight."

Sara cackled, bringing her knees to her chest and closing her eyes.

"Are you high?"

Sara laughed again, pressing her head to the window and looking up at the stars. She began humming under her breath, drawing on the glass when her breath fogged it up. Dean looked over at her, smiling to himself. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but god did Sara get him going sometimes. He was sure she didn't even know it, but especially on the days where she did allow herself to have fun and become the confident version of herself, it was a sight to behold.

Sara was beginning to feel her heart rate pick up. She hadn't smoked that much since she was a teenager, and of course with her drinking she didn't think about the possible consequences. She quickly became dizzy, her hearing fading in and out and her mind going a million miles an hour.

"You okay?" Dean asked, his voice muffled to Sara as her hearing went out again.

"Ugh, bad high. Bad high." Dean sighed, pushing Sara's cassette into the player and turning up the volume.

"Focus on the music and try to go to sleep." Sara took a couple of deep breaths, listening to Dean and focusing her whole mind onto the music. The words, the instrumental-- each bit and piece that she could make out. It took her a while of convincing herself that she wouldn't have a seizure if she went to sleep, but she finally did fall asleep when she scooted closer to Dean and put her head on his shoulder.

Dean kept his eyes on the road, only looking down at her when he was sure she was asleep. He'd forgotten how impulsive she could be. She was the most caring person he'd ever known, but hell if she wasn't just as impulsive. It seemed like as soon as a thought entered her mind, there was nothing in the world that would stop her from seeing it through.

He remembered back to when she was sixteen, and he was twenty. How she called him and told him that she got drunk and let her boyfriend at the time give her a stick and poke tattoo. She said that he couldn't tell anyone, but she needed to tell someone because she thought it was hilarious. He remembered how she looked when she found out the douche bag cheated on her and told her that he never loved her.

He remembered gathering a big bag of dog shit in the middle of the night and helping her to sneak it under his pillow.

But then, he also remembered how she cried for him when he told her the full story about what happened to his mom. How even though she was younger, she looked out for Sammy and himself in more ways than he could count. How she almost never let him do the same for her.

Dean looked at the sleeping girl resting on his shoulder, wondering how he could've possibly missed two whole years with her. The regret he felt all that time seemed to bubble up in his stomach, making his brows furrow as he looked back at the road. All those times that his finger hovered over the call button, and yet he never went through with it.

He was astonished in a lot of ways that she even agreed to come with him, but god was he thankful that she did.