cained | 👻🎈🤡🥧

[ The moment when Tom interrupted her interview with the Winchesters (who she believed to be FBI agents at the time) is seared into her memory, not because of how he'd done it — unflinching, with a quiet, possessive fury in his grip — but because of how Dean had locked eyes with her, full of silent reassurance that he wasn't going anywhere until he had to. That kindness from a total stranger had meant so much to her in that instant, lingered in the weeks after. It's why she kept his card.

She's relieved when he tells her, without hesitation or call to jog his memory, that he remembers it too. That he still feels like himself. Beverly didn't even realise how worried she'd been about that until he says it, until he admits I'm not even sure how much is still missing. Yeah, she gets that too. Tiny pieces kept coming back to her in the days after they killed It. Weeks. But that had been 27 years' worth of magical amnesia, not 27 hours (or more). ]

Salads are good for you, [ she murmurs absently, warmth washing through her voice despite the conversation. Then — ] So it wasn't just your memories, it was... everything? Are you eating a burger right now? Like it's the first one you've ever had in your life?

[ That's... wild. ]

God. Magic's a pain in the ass.

Edited 2020-08-27 03:41 (UTC)

( the instinct to sarcastically mimic salads are good for you is immediate, though he does so mostly with a fond eyeroll and the tug of his upper lip into an immature sneer. he's still five when he wants to be, apparently.

the question at hand reels him back in, and he mumbles mmhmm around another mouthful of burger. magic sure is a pain in the ass. )

Oh yeah, everything. We're talking memories, but also just — regular shit. Like what inanimate objects are called. How to tie my shoes. ( he swallows hard, making a delighted sound in the back of his throat. ) God, this burger is fucking awesome. Who knew I could cook? Most I could remember up until twenty minutes ago was heating up Spaghetti-Os and weenies for Sam. But the second I stepped foot into the Bunker kitchen, man, lemme tell you. It was like having some kinda religious experience. And I say this having met most of the guys upstairs: that experience was better.

[ Oh, that's worse. That's so much worse. Losing yourself is one thing but being stripped of the basics is — horrifying. She doesn't tell him that, likely doesn't have to, and she swallows down the tight feeling in her throat. He's fine. The laugh that breaks itself free of her knotted chest is a welcome release. ]

Yeah, honey, you're a great cook. The first time you made me breakfast blew my fucking mind — I mean, maybe it was the sex before and after — but those pancakes... [ She huffs out a breath, fond. ] It's one of my favourite things about you. When we started reconnecting, I was figuring out all the stuff I actually liked to eat, you know? Not just the stuff I thought I should eat as that Bev.

[ Yeah, salads are good for you but not the only thing she's "allowed" to have. She can enjoy desserts, burgers, peanut butter, banana, and bacon sandwiches. A frapp from Starbucks with real milk! ]

Our... not-dates? When you'd swing by town? It was always like eating something for the first time. You're responsible for like fifty percent of my new favourite dishes.

( it's things like making bev breakfast for the first time that got lost somewhere in the magic fog, but the way she reminds him ... it's like clouds parting after a heavy rain, the sky opening up to let the sunshine in. she's been such a constant source of light in his life over the past several months, it's no wonder he feels so warm when he hears her talk about him. no wonder all that warmth brings out the best of all the things he'd forgotten: cooking for her, helping her discover new things, the joy of sharing a homecooked meal together. )

You don't say. ( it's not disbelieving; he's impressed, almost, maybe a little surprised. the sex doesn't catch him off guard — that came back pretty fast, a reel of extremely vivid film playing over in his head as soon as he stepped foot in the bunker, traces of bev everywhere. but had he actually known that bit about being responsible for her favorite dishes or was that something he's just now realizing? either way, the thought of it makes him a little breathless, a soft chuckle passing his lips. ) Might have to reacquaint me with those favorites. It's still a little fuzzy.

[ She has to remind herself that the magic was temporary and that Dean's memory won't be like this forever, especially if she helps coax it back to every corner they share together. That's how it was with the Losers after they'd killed It; the longer they were together, the faster everything came back, and with more clarity. How many hours did they spend reminiscing together in the lounge at the inn, or around Eddie's hospital bed? Remember when was an oft-repeated phrase and it helped, everything clicking back into place.

She can help here too. Why not? The memories warm her inside and out too. ]

Remember that underground tiki-themed bar we found in Hell's Kitchen?

[ Before they started this whole thing between them; back when they were just friends. (But was that visit already one of his intentional detours to see her? Or was he really just coming off a case nearby? She does love puzzling it out, finding the breadcrumb trail that led to where they are now.) ]

It was pouring rain so we just ran into the first open door we saw. And we lucked out 'cause it was Taco Tuesday for them — [ She grins, audible in her voice. ] Three dollar tacos. You were so excited. But they also had these totchos on the menu, fucking tater tot nachos with queso, chili, guac, pico... oh my God, they were crazy, and you had to try them and I thought, what the hell, right? [ On a laugh: ] Then we ate our way through two orders. I still crave them when it rains.

( he can practically hear the rain outside on that particular night in hell's kitchen, the warm lighting of the bar, his delight at three dollar tacos and totchos. he nearly chokes on the bite of burger in his mouth as he bursts out laughing, remembering with such clarity the mound of tater tots and nachos smothered in all the best fixins. )

Oh my God. Totchos, of course. Those things were awesome.

( had he gone out of his way to see her that time? absolutely. was it worth it? always. truthfully, only the first couple of times had been happenstance. )

Consider them on the menu next time I'm in town.

[ His laugh makes something bright and golden bloom in her chest, shakes loose another one of her own. More than half the photos she has of Dean on her phone are of him excited about food — or with one of the many pop culture landmarks in the city. Strange to know how much of those things make up who he is but not realise their true defining impact until you're trying to slot the pieces back into place. ]

I'll hold you to that, [ she tells him, chuckling. ] And then we'll go get Belgian waffles to wash it all down because go big or go home, you know?

I told you, the city is really something else when you're with me. Every time I think I know New York, you point out something new. Like the album cover for Physical Graffiti? [ For his favourite band. She's trying to jog that memory as gently as she can. ] Only a geek like you or Richie could look at some random buildings and pull out trivia that obscure.

Edited 2020-09-07 14:14 (UTC)

( they've always fed off of each other's laughter, usually to the annoyance of the less enthusiastic people around them, but right now it's just them, so it's easy to keep the momentum going. it feels right, comfortable. and even if he forgot how well she knows him, there's no question about it now. )

Whoa, hey — geek? C'mon. ( not that he's really offended; she should know this is just his natural response to being put on the same level as richie tozier, who really is a geekwad extraordinaire. ) Physical Graffiti is only, like, the definitive Zepp album. I still can't believe you took me to that exact neighborhood accidentally, Miss I-planned-seven-very-specific-dates-for-us-even-though-we're-not-dating. I'm telling you, babe, if you hadn't already gotten into my pants, that would've been the moment.

( accidental or not, zepp is always an automatic win. )

You come on. [ That doesn't make sense, but like his comebacks are any better half the time. She's still laughing. ] Some of my best friends are geeks!

[ Like the aforementioned Mr Tozier and co. They aren't called the Losers Club for nothing! And she wears that badge with pride; that, and the tease he tosses her way about her romantic scheming. Was it all an accident? No, she can't say that. The dates were specific, incredibly deliberate, and the gangster museum being on the same street as an album cover photo was one stroke of luck in a hundred strokes of luck that led them to where they are now.

But, yeah, okay. When he puts it like that... Well, he can't see her blushing over a phone call. ]

Hey, don't make it sound like I'm some kind of romcom mastermind! You're an open book when it comes to the stuff you love. [ And she was keen on reading and memorising every line. ] And it seemed like, I don't know — every time we spoke you were coming off of some crazy case — [ like now ] — so I wanted to take your mind off things for a while. [ She chuckles. ] I just didn't think sleeping together would come before the dates.

[ As if she minded. She very much did not mind at all. ]

I did knock it outta the park with those Fiddler tickets, though, didn't I? Talk about a moment.

( it doesn't make sense, but it does spur his laughter on, so surely it counts for something. he can barely focus on what's left of his burger, distracted by the warmth of her voice and the memories it unearths: bundled up in the crisp new york air, bev tucked up next to him, her arm linked with his as she toured him around the city with him in mind for each destination; the specific memory of feeling seen bubbling to the surface, even before they ever sealed the deal.

how the hell did he get this lucky? maybe the losers really do exude lucky seven energy. )

You did great, babe. Probably the most relaxed I'd ever been, which is saying something. ( second only to her surprise visit to the bunker (a whole week of bev to himself does wonders for all the tension in his life). if he's honest, he's starting to realize any time he gets to spend with bev automatically relaxes him.

he can only vaguely remember mentioning fiddler to her, or maybe sam had behind his back, but either way ... talk about a moment indeed. ) Honestly never thought you'd get my ass in a Broadway theatre, but who the hell can say no to Fiddler? Better put wooing on your resume, Bev. I think you outclassed me that weekend. And, gotta say, that's pretty damn impressive.

[ She feels the same way: the stress of her life melting away the second they're back in each others' arms. It's why she went to the bunker, why they call each other at the end of long, hard days. It's not about making it disappear, really, but being together makes her feel a little more capable of taking everything else head on. She feels similarly with the Losers, bolstered by their good humour and the bonds they forged in blood. (Literally.) But Dean just gets under her skin in a way that's new and different.

She's definitely blushing now if she wasn't before, warmed and pleased by the compliment, and maybe he can hear it in the breathy way she laughs, almost like she's embarrassed as well as delighted. ]

Yeah, well, like I said — I didn't really have to try. [ Maybe he doesn't remember yet, but: ] I didn't think I'd get your ass in one either! That's why it wasn't on my list. But we walked past the marquee on our way to Pie Face and you got this look on your face, so I said, "I didn't know you liked Fiddler," and you were like, "You mean the greatest musical of our time?" [ She's not Richie. This impression of Dean Winchester isn't great. But it's not bad, either. ] "C'mon, I have some class!"

[ She laughs. ]

I literally texted my friend about comps like two seconds later.

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