The Willow Is Weeping - GG/Devour fic - R
Nov. 8th, 2006 09:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
tigriswolfFandom: "Gilmore Girls"/Devour crossover
Disclaimer: not my characters. just for fun.
Warnings: AU for "Gilmore Girls" after season five. I've not seen seasons six or seven so their events are ignored. Slash. Spoilers for Devour.
Pairings: CuteSammyDean/DevilSpawnedJake. And that right there is a spoiler.
Rating: R
Wordcount: just shy of three-thousand.
Point of view: third
Notes: I have neither explanation nor excuse for this story beyond my own madness.
Leaving Stars Hollow was the best thing he ever did. The only reason to stay would’ve been Clara, and she told him to go.
“You’re not happy,” she said, smiling up at him sadly. “Don’t make yourself miserable for me.”
So he left. Without looking back. Without word.
He traveled the country for a while, doing odd jobs when money got tight, which it often did. He wasn’t happy, doubted he ever could be again. Finally, he wound up in Washington State, thousands of miles away from everything he’d ever known.
Breathing in air filled with the scent of the Pacific, Dean almost thinks he’s happy.
-
At first, when he’s just left, he calls Clara every day. Lets her know he's safe, where he is, where he thinks he might be going next.
Over the weeks, he calls less and less. And finally, he stops. He’s left behind that life, those people—he isn’t Dean Forrester anymore.
Two months after leaving, he hasn’t talked to Clara in three weeks.
He finally feels like he’s grown into himself, feels at home in his body. For years, he felt mismatched. Hated his height. But now he’s comfortable. Now he knows how to move.
He doesn’t eat every day, doesn’t want to. Gas is more important, the insatiable need to keep moving. Whenever he fills up his car, he also buys two bottles of water. He drains them swiftly and refills them when he can. And when he does eat, he orders water to drink. It saves money and it’s healthy; there really is no downside.
Dean picks up a random book here and there. Slowly, his collection builds, filling the backseat. Some of them are old, falling apart; some new, shiny and clean. He reads himself to sleep at night, sometimes in motels, other times in a sleeping bag beside his car.
Without being pressured into it by a girlfriend who will always think herself better, he’s found, reading is fun.
He’s so far removed from who he was, no one in Stars Hollow or Chicago would recognize him.
For some reason he can’t quite fathom, that knowledge feels good. Probably better than it should.
-
A year and a half after leaving, he hits the Pacific Ocean. He’s as far northwest as the continental US goes. He’s not Dean Forrester; he can’t even really remember that man.
He hasn’t talked to his family in months. Hasn’t seen anyone he knows in even longer.
Sometimes men try to pick fights. But Dean’s learned how to use his height. For his size, he’s quick, light on his feet. He can diffuse the situations most of the time. And when he can’t, he wins.
The day he hits Washington, he’s only killed once.
It was self defense, unavoidable. It was quick, painless. And he feels no guilt.
-
He hasn’t picked up a single hitchhiker. Had actually planned on never picking up hitchhikers. He’s heard the stories, of course. And he’s not a fool.
But he sees the man trudging along the side of the road. Carrying a duffle in each hand and a booksack on his back. Faded, torn jeans, a white T-shirt, a jean jacket. He sees it all in a glance as he drives past and then he looks in the rearview mirror.
And he stops the car.
-
Looking back later, he wonders what possesses him. Why the hell he waits for the guy to catch up with him, throw his bags in the back, and slide shotgun.
The man smiles at him, thanks him. Dean nods.
He’s never done anything so foolish.
“Jake,” the guy says.
“Dean,” he replies.
A part of him knows there is no going back. The rest of him hasn’t realized it yet.
-
A ways down the road, Dean stops at a beat-up McDonald’s. Jake leaves his stuff in the back and follows him in.
They order, each paying for their own, then sit together. They eat in silence for a while and finally Jake speaks.
“Where’re you goin’?” he asks.
Dean shrugs. “Anywhere.”
Jake nods. “Mind if I tag along? I can chip in for gas, buy my own meals.”
Dean studies him for a moment, meets his eyes. They’re hazel and huge, entreating him.
Dean half-smiles and nods.
-
It’s a long time before they really talk beyond books and movies and sports. The road is less lonely with Jake; Dean feels like maybe he’s found a friend at last.
They’re the same age, seem to like a lot of the same things. But something about Jake makes him seem a lot older. He’s weary.
When they finally talk about their pasts, it’s eight months into their shared trip and Jake’s just turned twenty-four.
-
“My real mom killed my adopted parents.” Jake says it matter-of-factly out of the blue. Dean just looks at him, waiting. “She was crazy, thought she had to. She killed my best friends, too.” Jake laughs. “Wanted me to join her, keep on killing.” He meets Dean’s eyes. “I killed her in self defense.” Jake looks away. “They arrested me for her murders but let me go for lack of evidence.”
Dean just nods.
-
“I killed a man in Wyoming,” Dean says a few nights later. They’re in a one-bed motel room. Jake has the bed and Dean takes the floor. “He started the fight. We were the two biggest guys in the bar and he was drunk.” Dean laughs. “I haven’t been drunk since the night before my wedding.” He sits up and can see Jake’s eyes reflecting light from the window. “We took it outside and he drew a knife.” Dean shrugs. “I snapped his neck.”
Jake just nods.
-
After their confessions, they talk a whole lot more. Jake tells Dean about computers and Dean shares his complete knowledge of cars. They debate philosophy and if chocolate chip cookies are better than Reese’s. They reminisce about their childhoods, their experiences.
Dean tells about Rory and Lindsay and how he totally fucked up.
Jake tells about Connie and Dakota and how he never told Connie the way he really felt.
-
“Where are we going?” Jake asks a year after they meet.
They’re in Florida and it’s June.
“Where do you wanna go?” Dean asks in reply.
Jake shrugs. Dean smiles. The sun beams down and it feels inevitable. Dean reaches out and Jake moves to him. When their lips meet, Dean wonders what he’d been waiting for.
-
“Do you ever wonder what would have been different if Rory knew what she’d had?”
Dean looks over. Jake is staring out the window, face closed.
“I did,” Dean answers. “But not anymore.” Not for a long time.
“Do you wanna go back to Stars Hollow, see your sister?”
Dean reaches out and touches Jake’s shoulder. “Wherever you wanna go, Jake. Anywhere.”
Jake turns, eyes hazel and huge. “Let’s just drive,” he says.
Again, Dean wonders who Jake would have been if his mother hadn’t fucked him up so well. Didn’t haunt him. He raises his hand to Jake’s face and Jake turns into the touch.
“Okay,” Dean answers.
-
Dean never really felt happy with Rory, with Lindsay, in Chicago or Stars Hollow. Something was missing, off, his whole life—until he met Jake.
And it’s funny, in an odd sort of way. Jake doesn’t look like a dangerous guy. He’s too clean cut, too pretty. But Dean saw him mad once, furious in a bar. Some idiot had said something—Dean didn’t hear what—and Jake shut down, closed himself off.
Later, Dean would swear the temperature dropped about fifty degrees.
And then Jake moved. The only way to describe it was panther-like. Fluid and sudden, no way to tell where he’d go next. He tore into the guy and the bastard never had a chance.
If Jake wasn’t pulled off, Dean knew the guy would die. But no one was going to try, Dean knew that, too.
So Dean lunged forward, grabbed for Jake, and at his touch, Jake stilled. Dean pulled him towards the door and everyone got out of their way.
Once at the car, Dean stopped, looked at Jake. He was normal again, still as a statue.
Dean didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing.
They never talked about it.
-
Dean had been so sure he’d loved Rory that it takes him by surprise.
He feels comfortable in Jake’s presence. Safe. Like he can say whatever he wants, and Jake won’t storm out, won’t close off. Jake might not agree, but he’ll listen.
And Jake can hear even what Dean doesn’t say. If Dean’s annoyed or hurt or angry, Jake knows. And he does his best to make Dean feel better.
Dean does the same for Jake.
The years of thinking he loved Rory fade more everyday. Getting Jake to laugh or smile makes a date with Rory pale in comparison.
But he never says the words. He doesn’t need to. Jake knows.
-
Seven years after leaving Stars Hollow, Dean returns. Jake is with him, steady and sure.
Instead of going to his parents’ house, Dean leads Jake to Luke’s Diner. They sit by the window and give their orders to Candice. Dean asks if Luke is in and Candice says no.
Jake smiles at her and she blushes, stutters, laughs. He asks kindly for the latest gossip and she spills everything.
Luke had married Lorelai but now they’re in the midst of a messy divorce. Rory gave birth to twins—the father is unknown, even now. Miss Patty and Taylor married in 2008; Kirk finally came out of the closet and admitted to a lifelong crush on Luke.
Dean nearly choked on his laughter. Jake smiles again and kindly thanks Candice. She blushes even more and rushes away to place their orders.
“Well,” Dean says. “Welcome to Stars Hollow.”
Jake laughs softly and Dean grins.
-
After they finish their food and leave a nice tip for Candice, Dean takes Jake on a tour. He knows the grapevine will tell everyone he’s back, so he’ll meet with Miss Patty somewhere along the way.
By the time they hit the Dragonfly, Miss Patty is there. Dean opens the door for Jake, who raises an eyebrow and goes in; Dean chuckles before following.
Miss Patty approaches Dean and pulls him into a hug. “Deano, Deano, Deano,” she chortles, “you look even better than when you left.” When she releases him, her eyes go to Jake. “Oh, my, Dean,” she breathes, “Who is your gorgeous companion?”
Jake blushes and Dean grins. “Miss Patty, meet Jake. Jake, this is Miss Patty.”
Jake smiles and takes her hand, bowing. “It is a pleasure to meet a beauty such as yourself, Miss Patty.”
Dean, watching, sees that Miss Patty falls in love with Jake then and there.
-
Looking back later, Dean can see the signs. They’re obvious. But he can’t hate himself for missing them.
He can’t hate Jake, either.
-
Miss Patty invites them for dinner. Dean accepts.
Dean and Jake tell about their travels; Miss Patty and Taylor tell about the town, what’s changed and stayed the same.
“I heard Lorelai and Luke married,” Dean says, taking a bite of his spaghetti.
“Oh, yes,” Miss Patty exhales. “The poor dears. They were better off before they wed.”
“What went wrong?” Dean asks and Miss Patty shares a glance with Taylor.
“Luke wouldn’t bend,” Taylor tells him. “And Lorelai wouldn’t budge.”
Dean nods and the conversation continues.
-
They stay the night at Miss Patty’s and the next day Dean takes Jake home.
His parents and sister hug him and cry. They greet Jake like another long-lost son. Dean is re-immersed into being Dean Forrester, someone he hasn’t been in almost a decade. Jake nearly preens beneath the Forrester’s attention. Dean watches with amusement; Jake has often reminded him of a cat, now moreso than ever.
They spend the day there, catching up. Dean hadn’t missed them for a long time—not since he met Jake. He doesn’t feel sad at the thought of leaving. As long as he has Jake, Dean knows he’ll be fine.
He watches Jake and wonders if that’s normal or healthy, decides it doesn’t matter. It is what it is and they are who they are, and it’s too late to change.
Not that he wants to.
-
It’s a week before Dean runs into Rory. He remembers how he felt, remembers that she was everything, all he wanted or needed. She’s beautiful, strong; a little boy walks on either side of her.
When she sees him, she freezes. “Dean,” she whispers and her eyes widen.
“Hey, Rory,” he says and leans down to kiss her cheek.
She looks down and he’s reminded of when they first met, when they danced around each other. He notices she has the bracelet he gave her on her wrist and he smiles.
“Dean,” she says again and he meets her eyes. “These are my sons, Alec and Ben.”
They’re identical with dark hair and large blue eyes, about four or five. He wants to ask who their father is, why he isn’t helping her, but it’s not his place.
They chat for a few minutes more then continue on their ways.
-
When he gets back to his parents’ house, Jake meets him at the door.
“I’m sorry,” he says, reaching out to grip Dean’s arm.
Dean pauses, stares down into Jake’s eyes. Before Jake says it, he knows.
“They were driving to Hartford for business,” Jake explains, never releasing Dean. “Your dad lost control of the car. By the time the ambulance got there, they were dead.”
Dean nods silently, unable to find the words. He can’t look away from Jake.
“Clara,” Jake continues, “She was in the back seat. She… she died on the way to the hospital and they couldn’t resuscitate her.”
Dean closes his eyes.
-
Dean’s parents left everything to his aunt and Clara, but Clara died.
The town turns out for the funeral and the rest of his family comes in from Chicago. Dean doesn’t talk to anyone, doesn’t come out of the guest room. Jake hosts everything with Lorelai’s help.
Two days after the funeral, Lindsay and her boyfriend die. A week after that, more people do.
Dean wonders if it has anything to do with him, but a part of him knows.
-
Two months after Dean returns to Stars Hollow, most everyone he knew has died.
The night after Babette and Morey meet their fate, Dean confronts Jake.
“What have you done?” Dean demands.
Jake only smiles and gently says, “You always knew.”
Dean closes his eyes.
-
At dawn they leave.
Jake drives the car and Dean sits shotgun, staring out the window.
The news covers deaths across the nation, deaths with no rhyme or reason, deaths accidental and not. And once eyes turn from the US, it’s happening all over the world.
“The hell is going on, Jake?” Dean’s voice is soft, weary.
“Excellent word choice, Dean,” he says and glances over. “My mother cannot be killed.”
Dean laughs. Jake nods and continues, “Once I realized that, I also realized how foolish it is to stand against her.” Dean turns to face him but Jake keeps talking. “It’s a new world, Dean. I won’t say better, because it’s not. But my mother is taking the earth, one city at a time. If all the adults are killed, then the children are ripe for the picking.”
Dean just stares at him and Jake’s soft laughter fills the car.
“From the moment you picked me up, from the moment our eyes met, from the moment you agreed to journey with me, from the moment you kissed me, from the moment you fucked me—from the moment you snapped Bill Walter’s neck in Wyoming, Dean, you knew.”
Jake glances over and meets his eyes. “Deny it.”
Dean looks away and stays silent.
-
“You lost yourself somewhere between Connecticut and Washington.”
Dean lies on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Jake sits beside him, carding his fingers through Dean’s hair.
“You don’t mourn your parents. You don’t mourn anyone from that town except Clara and even that grief is fleeting. A part of you even feels pleasure for some of the deaths.”
Jake’s tone dares Dean to deny it. Jake’s hand is gentle, warm.
“How come you haven’t killed me?” Dean asks, rolling over and grabbing Jake’s hand.
“Because I don’t want to.”
Jake leans over and harshly kisses Dean, branding him with his lips.
-
Dean meets Marisol ten years after he left Stars Hollow for the first time.
She greets him with a bright smile and a tight hug. She greets Jake with a deep kiss on the lips.
Dean watches, jealous and angry.
After they separate, Jake pulls his head down and shows both his mother and his lover who is really his.
“You always knew,” Jake whispers into his mouth and Dean can’t find the words to deny it.
Marisol smiles.
-
Jake is a fair ruler where Marisol is tyrannical. Jake has compassion, Marisol only madness.
Dean never asks if God ever existed. If He had, He’s long since died. Dean keeps all of his opinions to himself, all of his questions locked deep inside.
He should never have picked up that hitchhiker. But if he hadn’t… would he be dead now?
Jake smiles as he enters their bedroom and stretches out beside Dean.
In spite of his fear and worry, Dean asks, “When?”
Jake presses a kiss to his neck and murmurs against his skin, “Soon.”
-
Marisol dies on Dean’s thirty-fourth birthday.
“My gift,” Jake says, “is the world.”
Dean meets his eyes and cannot bear to look away.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-09 03:16 pm (UTC)Really.
(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-09 03:19 pm (UTC)LOL
HT
(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-09 03:27 pm (UTC)Yeah, the script was rewritten while they filmed, so the movie he signed on for isn't the finished product. Which would annoy me, were I in his place.
Actually, that annoys me from where I am right now.
I saw _Brokeback Mountain_ twice in theaters and I've read the short story once. Haven't seen it since.
You should watch _Devour_, though. Whenever you have the time. It isn't the best movie ever, but it's better than a lot of crap I've seen.
Like _Day of the Triffids_.
Who's _Novemeber's Guest_?
(no subject)
Date: 2006-11-09 03:36 pm (UTC)And Day of the Triffids. LOL. Kitts so used Triffids in one of our VS fics, and I was like, huh? ACtually went to a website and looked it up. Just the kinda thing my husband loves. Go figure.
And she's a nice girl, just doesn't see the boys the same way I do, and I probably should leave her more reviews, but she has plenty of people reading already who like what she does.
HT