#I finally got to start busting out my love of mythology and folklore for this gal you guys I am THRIVING

[sincerely-sofie]

It’s Narilamb fankid hours.

[itmighthavebeenintentional]

Walk Me Home - Ch 6

Summary: Twenty-four years ago, Kimberly Harper met a boy who changed the course of her entire life before up and leaving one night. She spent years moving past the memories, building a stable, satisfying career as professor of folklore and mythology at the local university. Then the accidents start, and she’s forced to seek help among her hunter contacts. All it takes is a knock on her office door to send Kimber’s carefully built emotional walls crumbling to the ground.

Featuring: Teen Winchesters, high school romance, reunions, misunderstandings, high intensity emotional turmoil, Dean’s love of pie, Dean being adorable, Sam being adorable and maybe a bit nosy eventually, much group adorkable-ness, show-style investigation, mention of our favorite werewolf, gratuitous and obvious love of fall, DID I MENTION ROMANCE, fluff, smut, tension. 

Warnings: Show level violence, show level parental neglect (let’s not John bash, I’m just saying), show-style witchcraft, show-level mental manipulation, stalking, bit of angst, sexual content (higher than show level), swearing, general yearning

Word Count: 1775

Author’s Note: All my thanks @mskathywriteswords​ , @fangirlxwritesx67​, and @cracksinthewalls​ for making this story way better than it started. Thank you to everyone who read/reblogged/liked the first chapter. I hope you enjoy the story as much as I do. Also, hang on to something. This chapter is short, but it packs a bit of a punch.

I’m working on a follow-up to my Dean story Dear Mr. Fantasy that I hope to post sometime in the next few weeks. Check it out, if you haven’t, and let me know if you’re interested. 

Keep in Mind: There are a lot of flashbacks. I tried to write current events in present tense and flashbacks in past tense. Here’s hoping I got everything right!

Please read/heed the warnings. 18+ ONLY. 

In Case You Missed It: Ch 1 | Ch 2 | Ch 3 | Ch 4 | Ch 5 ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

Chapter 6

“I think we can officially call this morning a bust,” Kimber declares, collapsing into her office chair. Dean sighs, rubbing his forehead with one hand, the other propped on his hip. He doesn’t disagree.

“We checked the grad student office where I found Allen,” she says, checking off her mental list as she goes. “You checked out the stairwell where Helen fell. We found zilch in Dr. Lawrence’s office, and nothing here, as well. What’s next?”

“I’ll check in with Sam,” Dean decides, pulling out his cell. “Then maybe some lunch, and if Sam’s done, we’ll meet him at your place so we can start there. Sound good?”

She nods as Dean hits a button on his phone, raising it to his ear and turning away. Kimber’s eyes follow him as he paces the front of her small office, waiting for his brother to pick up. She stretches in her chair, feeling drowsy after the morning’s exertion, and she realizes she’s going to have to get up if she doesn’t want to fall asleep at her desk.

She moves towards the door, mouthing, “Bathroom,” to Dean, who nods as he listens intently to Sam. The brisk air in the corridor is bracing after the still warmth of her little office, and she takes a deep breath before turning towards the restrooms. The hallway is as close as the department gets to being crowded, with several classes letting out simultaneously. 

She pushes through the throngs of chattering students, smiling at a few of her own, intent on getting to the bathroom before it fills up, when she feels a light tap on her shoulder. Kimber turns, but before she has time to register anyone’s face, she feels something thrust into her outstretched palm.

…

Orange and red leaves flutter around her, joining the dense carpet of their brethren beneath her feet. Footsteps crunch before her, and she can see Dean just up ahead, her backpack slung over his shoulder. Dean never carries a backpack of his own, so they must have just finished a study session. He glances back, eyes alight with mischief, grin firmly in place.

“You comin’?” he asks. He doesn’t wait for an answer, just continues his casual saunter down the path as autumn rains down around them. “Wanna show you somethin’.”

She hurries to catch up, waving a stray leaf out of her face. The ground feels strange underfoot, too firm, her footfalls too loud for such a thick layer of leaves, but she’s too focused on Dean to pay much attention. Someone calls out behind them, but she’s determined to not be left behind a second time.

No matter how fast she runs, though, he stays a few paces ahead with his steady, cartoonishly slow pace, and she grits her teeth in frustration. 

Molasses would be an improvement.

“You’re gonna love this, sweetheart. C’mon, it’s just up ahead.” 

Their pursuer calls her name, closer this time, but Dean is right there, and if she can run just a little faster, she can catch him. She swats several leaves from the air, her mouth twisted in a frustrated frown, reaching out to Dean. 

“Kimber! Stop!”

A voice echoes from behind her, but then Dean turns, holding his hand out, and she stretches her fingers, her feet leaden as she drags her body forward. He smiles encouragingly, curling his finger to beckon her closer, his other arm spread wide to reveal his surprise. 

The trail ends abruptly at a sidewalk that leads to a house very similar to her parents’ old place (“They moved years ago,” she thinks), a house that was definitely not there before Dean pointed it out. The front door stands open wide, welcoming, as a sleek, black muscle car pulls up to the curb out front. Her eyes track the car’s approach, and she registers the name “Winchester” on the mailbox. 

Breathing suddenly becomes very difficult.

As she watches, a couple slides out of the front of the Impala. Kimber’s eyes widen in shock as she recognizes herself and Dean, though not older as they are now. Younger, maybe just a few years out of high school. 

But that’s not right, she thinks, her eyes flicking to seventeen-year-old Dean standing before her, urging her closer still. We’re not...we’re in high school, we aren’t grown...

The Dean before her holds his hand out silently, waiting as she struggles towards him. So close! she thinks. The voice behind her, so familiar, calls her name again, but her mind is foggy, distracted by young Dean and the phantom scene before her.

The couple embraces next to the car, blissfully unaware of their audience as Dean sweeps Kimber off her feet and carries her up the walkway. As they disappear into the house’s interior, she can hear her other self squealing happily as the door swings shut.

“I...can’t…”

Dean smiles at her, that sweet, just-a-touch shy smile that won her over so many years ago.

“It’s my dream, Kimber. We could still have it, if you want?” His eyes, so earnest, beg her to take just one more step. “Take my hand. It’s not too late for us. I’m right here.”

“Kimber, stop! Listen to me!”

She almost turns, the voice behind her is so desperate and beseeching, but Dean shakes his head. His smile widens, and he opens both arms to her, offering himself fully. 

“It’s our last chance. Come to me, Kimber. This can be ours, sweetheart. You and me, just the two of us. Just take that last step. You can do this.”

She wants to, so very badly. Her mind pulls towards Dean, smiling and hopeful, and she wants with almost every part of herself to take that step, take his hand, and live happily ever after.

But deep in her heart, she knows none of this is true. The Dean before her left, no matter how unwillingly, and she hasn’t heard from him until yesterday. Neither of them are seventeen any more, and this dream was never possible for either of them, no matter how much they wanted it.

“No...no...you’re not…”

He frowns, his expression suddenly cold, alien, and absolutely furious. His features harden, and he turns to her completely, squaring himself and giving her his entire focus. 

“Come here, Kimber. Take the damn step. Now.”

“No!” She doesn’t know where this reserve of strength is coming from, but she welcomes it. The fog begins to lift from her mind a little, and she manages half a step backwards.

Dean’s lip curls in a snarl, and she wrenches herself away, fighting to move in any direction but forwards. She throws herself back, expecting to fall, hoping the leaves will cushion her, planning to roll away.

Instead, she finds herself supported by strong arms that flood her senses with immediate relief. Something is jerked from her hand, and the autumn scene complete with the monstrous teenage Dean vanishes. The wind whips Kimbers hair in front of her face, and she looks down to see…

Nothing.

Arms pull her back from the edge of the building, and she chokes on a scream. Her self-defense training kicks in, and she throws her head back, trying to catch her assailant’s nose. 

“Kimber, it’s me! I’ve got you, don’t fight!”

It takes a second for Dean’s voice to register, and by the time she realizes she’s safe, she’s already planted her elbow square in his gut. He releases her with a pained wheeze, doubling over, holding up a placating hand towards her. She realizes in a detached sort of way that she is breathing way too shallow and fast, but she can’t seem to stop.

“Breathe,” he wheezes at her, trying to straighten up. Something about the ridiculous sight of Dean telling her to breathe when he can barely pull in his own breath cuts through her panic for a moment, and she almost laughs. Her head whirls, colors starting to blur together. 

From the view and the drop-off, she guesses they’re on the roof, though she’s never been up here before. She looks to Dean as her vision tunnels and a rushing noise fills her ears.

“Dean...Dean, you were...what did I…you said it was…”

Dean struggles upright and takes her face between his hands, forcing her to focus on him. “Breathe, honey. You’ve gotta breathe right now. Can you do that for me? Breathe with me. Slow, deep.”

She struggles to imitate him, and her lungs finally unlock enough to let in a reasonable amount of air. 

“Kimber, I’ve gotta burn this thing. I don’t know if it can affect you from a distance. Just...here. Sit down right here. Keep breathing.” She drops where she’s told, lowering her head between her knees as she focuses on counting her breaths. 

She can just make out Dean on the edge of her vision, crouching down. He pulls a lighter out of his pocket, flicks it, and lowers the flame to something on the ground before him. The object lights up with a whoosh of flame, and Kimber gasps as a searing bolt of pain flashes through her entire body before vanishing, leaving her feeling weak and shaking but finally, finally, back in control of herself.

Dean rises, stalks back over to her and drops to one knee, his fist pressing hard into the gravelled surface. He glares at the ground, his jaw clenching in a way that she’s glad is not directed at her. His nostrils flare, and his face flinches as he reaches some decision.

“I should never have let you go on your own. I’m not letting you out of my sight again until we gank this son of a bitch.”

She shrinks under the burning intensity of his words, and he closes his eyes for a second, wrestling with control of his anger. He holds a hand out to her, and she almost recoils, remnants of the vision burned in the back of her mind.

But this isn’t some sinister phantom leading Kimber to her death. She knows exactly who this is, and she trusts him implicitly.

Dean’s entire body relaxes when her palm touches his, and he drops his forehead to their joined hands. When he finally looks up at her, his eyes are green flame.

“I almost lost you. You were so close, Kimber, you were on the edge. I...”

He trails off, searching her face for a heavy moment. Without warning, he slides forward, releasing her hand to pull her face to his, kissing her with a fierceness that steals her breath and leaves her glad she’s already on the ground.

…

Chapter 7