Chapter Text
It’s cold, a little bit too cold for most people in Lawrence, Kansas. The air forms vapor clouds around the words people speak and makes their fingertips tingle. People walk with hunched shoulders, scratchy scarves wrapped around their necks, pressing up on pinkened, stinging cheeks. Little kids run around looking like marshmallows with their insulated jackets and warm mittens, their parents hovering over them like flies on their way home from school.
But it isn’t too cold for Dean Winchester.
The cold air is a remedy for the forming bruise on his jaw, his split lip, and purple cheek. The wounds are hot and sore to the touch, he doesn’t want to move. But the air feels euphoric on his face, like the world isn’t against him for once. He tilts his head back in the seat of his Impala, door open, enjoying life and crisp air for a few precious moments, Queen whispering ‘Break Free’ on the radio. It’s September, fall is almost in full swing and the weather has just begun to turn cold, families are ramping up for the onslaught of big holidays and students are getting antsy in class, eager for a couple days off. It’s a perfect opportunity, Dean could try his damndest to not screw up Emma's schooling for a few days at least while he figures this shit-show of a situation out.
Lee had been drinking the night prior, rambling on nonsense about how certain he was that his mate was sleeping around, how the pup in Dean's belly couldn't be his; so on and so forth. It was just another Tuesday for Dean, living in the hell that was his marriage. Most times he'd let the alpha's comments slide, feel the sting deep into his soul yet manage to not say a word. Others, it's too much, the pain builds up over time to the point it overflows, and he has to spit out something in his defense. Last night was one of those nights where Dean had unfortunately decided to be brave, and Lee, already volatile and drunk out of his mind, used his pregnant omega as a punching bag.
Nowhere near Dean’s stomach though, Lee made sure to tell Dean he should be grateful for that part.
Another normal night for Dean was usually spent on the floor of Emma's bedroom, back flat on the shag carpet and staring up at glow-in-the-dark plastic stars glued to a popcorn ceiling. Sleeping with Lee at any point was hard. The man had terrible dreams of his time in the army, and often woke up with fists flying - Dean was the victim of those night terrors more often than not. Other nights, the alpha wanted what Dean was rarely in the mood for anymore, his dangerous hands slipping up the omega's inner thigh, gripping his hips, brushing under his shirt. And you couldn't tell Lee no, that word wasn't in his vocabulary when it came to what he wanted, when he wanted.
So Dean slept in their daughter's room again last night, the sweet pup that had his heart snored softly in her bed throughout the night.
So the Impala sits in the elementary school parking lot, the back seat filled with a couple of black garbage bags stuffed with clothes, documents, and Emma's stuffed animals. A couple blankets and pillows… necessary bits of their life that he couldn't leave behind. Because that was the plan - leave their life behind, flee Lee's abuse. Dean couldn't bear another day, and the man leaving on a business trip left a perfect window for Dean's escape plan. It gave a couple of days for him to gain a head start before the alpha inevitably came home, enraged towards Dean's independence. It wasn't a matter of the omega finally having enough of the treatment, it was a matter of him finally being brave enough to step away.
Emma runs towards the car, her small red backpack bouncing against her hips. She was five years old with dark blonde hair, green eyes, and cheeks pink from the cold. The sight of her never failed to make a deep-rooted love bloom in Dean's chest, and today was no different.
Emma grins, her small hands curled around her backpack straps. "Momma! You're here!" she exclaims, bouncing on the balls of her feet as Dean exits the car, rounding the hood to open the passenger door.
Dean manages a smile, his face sore from the previous night's punches. Henlooks down at his daughter, heart swelling with love and sadness at the same time. "Yep, I'm here. Ready to go, baby?”
Emma nods, her cheeks puffing up as she grins at her mother, either not noticing or just used to the injuries Dean is sporting. "Uh huh! I made you something today!" the little girl exclaims, her voice almost squeaking out in excitement as she unzips her backpack to pull out a paper.
Dean's heart melts as he hears that, a small, genuine smile forming on his face. "Oh yeah? Well, I can't wait to see it," he says, helping his daughter climb into the car and buckling her in. He takes the wrinkled paper from her little hands once back in the driver's seat, shutting the creaky door behind him. "What did you make for me, Em?”
"It's a drawing," Emma replies happily, pointing at the paper. There are stick figures, presumably a picture of their little family. A tall stick figure labeled ‘momma’, a shorter one beside it labeled ‘Emma’, and a third taller one with a big frowny face labeled ‘daddy’. "Do you like it?" she asks, oblivious to the true nature of her father's unhappiness.
Dean's throat tightens at the sight of the picture - it's a reminder of the harsh reality of their home life. He takes a deep breath and smiles tightly, doing his best to hide his pain and sadness from his daughter. "I love it, sweetheart. It's beautiful," he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. He gingerly folds the picture and sets it on the dashboard. "You're an amazing artist, kiddo.”
Emma smiles, eyes squishing shut as Dean clears his throat, backing out of his parking space in front of the school. The pup however was very intuitive, she always has been. This was something Dean always gloated about to his family. She turns, looking over the shiny plastic mounds in the back seat, and then back through the windshield again, seeing the opening of their little cul-de-sac passing her window.
“Momma, where are we going?” she asks curiously, her head tilted to the side.
Dean swallows hard, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel nervously. "Well, sweetheart, we're going on a little trip," he says, trying to sound cheerful and excited, even though the thought of fleeing his abusive mate filled him with more terror than anything.
"We're gonna go visit your Aunt Ellen on her farm in Nebraska." He’s careful to use the words 'trip' and ‘visit’ instead of 'run away' and 'leave'. He couldn't let Emma know the true extent of their situation, he wants to protect her innocence as long as possible.
"A farm?" Emma echos, her voice tinged with eagerness, unaware of the hidden meaning behind the trip. "Are we gonna see horses and cows and stuff?"
Dean nods, forcing a smile. "Yeah, we are. We'll get to see lots of animals and spend time with family. Doesn't that sound fun?”
Emma is bouncing in her seat, clearly excited. "Can I pet the animals?"
Dean chuckles softly, wiping a stray tear from his eye at the pup's excitement. It was a small comfort in their current situation. "Of course you can," he replies, his voice cracking slightly as he tries to put on a brave front. "Aunt Ellen has lots of animals on her farm. You'll have a blast, baby girl. Promise.”
Emma squeals in excitement, kicking her feet in her seat. "This is gonna be so much fun, momma!"
Dean laughs softly, his heart clenching at his daughter's innocence. "Yep, it'll be great, sweetheart."
He reaches out and rubs her head with one hand, keeping the other hand on the steering wheel.
They drive on in silence for a while, the sound of the radio and the tires on the asphalt the only sounds filling the air. After a few minutes, Emma speaks again.
"Momma?”
Dean glances at her, his heart pounding in his chest, bracing for what she might ask. "Yeah, baby?”
"Is daddy gonna come with us?" Emma asks innocently, oblivious to the pain this question causes her mother.
Dean's heart clenches, his throat tightening as he struggles to find an answer. "No, sweetheart. Papa isn't coming with us. This is just gonna be a trip for us, okay?”
"Okay," the pup whispers, sensing the dark ambience of the car's interior. She watches Dean for a long moment - the furrowed brow, the way he chews his lip, and the short gasps of air he takes in every few minutes in an attempt to not burst into tears. "I love you, momma," she adds, patting Dean's arm before looking out the window.
Dean looks over at his daughter, his heart swelling with love and sadness at Emma's words. He swallows hard, trying to compose himself as he responds. "I love you too, Em. More than anything in the world."
Dean turns his attention back to the road, trying to concentrate on the drive ahead. They have a long journey before them, and he needs to keep it together for Emma's sake.