hasperkynipples | civil war au } { meddling mothers

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civil war au } { meddling mothers

Her son received a letter from a woman.

Not that the idea of Dean having female suitors is unheard of in the Winchester household, but before the war they weren't particularly ones to write. After the war - well, they were almost non-existent. Mary isn't one to deny the fact that her son came home different, a little bit colder but still gentle in the ways that mattered. He grew up in his time away and while the things he's seen were likely not pleasant, he isn't letting them mar him. At least, not in ways that she can see.

All the same, the letter from a woman, a Miss Christine Chapel, finds its way to their front door, and the inherent curiosity gets the better of her. She informs him of the letter, lets him read it, and waits for him to do something in response. In fact, she waits an entire week, and when he doesn't give her a return letter to put through the post, she takes matters into her own hands.

John will probably scold her for it later, but she also saw the look on her son's face when he read it. This meddling is worth doing.

It's takes some time for mail to travel, so much so that she almost completely forgot about the invitation she extended this "Christine Chapel." So when the blond woman appears at their doorstep while she's tending to the flowers in front of their home, she can't help but blink at her in surprise.

"Can I help you?"

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"I'd love to! How many d'you have?" It seems Christine is full of questions today, but she just wants to keep the conversation between them flowing. She wants to listen to the sound of his voice and hear about his life here.

"Three or four," he says with a nod as he leads the way. "One of them is too old for field work. We keep her around because my mother's too sentimental to sell her, but the rest are work horses. Without them half this field wouldn't be handled the way it should."

"How sweet," she replies, looking touched at how the old horse hasn't been given up. "I'm sure she brings your mother a lot of enjoyment, doesn't she?"

Christine never had a horse of her own living in the city, and she certainly can't afford one now with no place to put it, but she thinks they're wonderful creatures.

"Oh, she's got personality," he says with a grin as he pulls open the barn door, gesturing for him to go in ahead of him. "And she was a good horse, healthy. She still gets ridden sometimes when one of us needs to go into town."

Once they're both inside, he takes the lead again, moving over to a beautiful sleek black mare. "Sammy wanted to name her Impala when he was younger. After those deer, in Africa?"

"Did he?" she asks, laughter in her voice. "I'm afraid I'm not familiar with them." but it goes to show how smart his brother is. "Are they fast, the Impalas?"

"From what he says, yes. It's hard to tell with how accurate his books are, but he ... practically consumed them when he was younger. He wanted to know everything about everything." The pride is clear in his voice. Sam was always the smart one, the one who was going to make something more of himself, and Dean never told him otherwise. Now that he has, as much as he misses his brother, he knows that it was the right decision to make.

"That's how I am now. Or at least everything to do with medicine." Her cheeks go a little pink, because even though women made great strides during the war, talking about medicine isn't something they're supposed to do.

"What d'you like to study?" she asks, keen to know his interests.

"I was never really one for school," he says, shaking his head. "I was always better with my hands. I didn't study much." Not that he didn't read, when he had the chance. He liked books, fiction, but knowledge was never really one of his pursuits. "It was better that my parents saved the money for Sammy, rather than me."

"I like your hands," she blurts out, and that just makes her face turn even more pink. "I mean, before-- well, I've held your hand."

She has no idea why she's being so forward with him. Maybe it's because she fears she'll go another few years without seeing him after this visit ends.

"So, what do you do with your hands?" she continues. Might as well go all in, right?

His head turns to her at that outburst, and there's a look that crosses his face that's just shy of being flirtatious, but he knows better than to push too far.

"I repair wagons and things when it's needed. Make sure all the equipment is maintained well. And then there's the plowing and seeding and such." He gives a bit of a shrug. "General farming work."

If he became flirtatious, Christine would recognize it. Men flirted with her in the medical tent at the army camp, and she knew not to indulge that sort of nonsense. But now they're no longer in a war. The same rules don't apply.

"A wagon? All by yourself?" She looks impressed. She doesn't even know what wagons look like underneath. Just that there's two wheels and something that attaches to horses and some place to sit and carry a load.

He gives a bit of a shrug. It's not that impressive and he knows it, but he likes that she seems impressed. "It's pretty simple, once you figure it out. All that theory and philosophy that Sammy studies, I don't really have a head for. This I do, though."

In fact, he's more comfortable with it than a lot of other things he could be doing.

"But theory and philosophy... they're something widespread. They last generations. People are still talking about what the Greeks started. But all those people who talk about it wouldn't be able to live day to day if it weren't for you." She looks a little embarrassed. This is getting close to fawning, really.

"I mean people like you. You handle the practical things so they can philosophize. You grow the food and fix the transportation -- you're important too."

He gives a bit of a shrug. "I don't really want to be important. I just want a nice life." A little bit of land and a family. Something simple. Easy. Sam is the one who wants to make the history books.

His answer makes her smile, and she nods in concession. Happiness is more important than being important, that's true.

"You will, I'm sure. You already have a good start, with such a wonderful mother. And I'm sure your father and brother are the same, even if I haven't met them."

"I'm sure you'll get to meet my dad before you go. He's probably going to be heading downstairs soon." Especially if his mother told him that Dean had a female caller. "I should warn you, though, he likes to think he's charming."

Christine gives him a smile, a knowing look gracing her face.

"Don't all men like to think they're charming?"

That's been her experience during the war and even since then. Smiles and sweet words were a daily occurrence, and she only indulged it so far, thinking the men needed a little brightness in their lives. A smile in return, maybe a laugh at their jokes, but no more.

He laughs a bit at that, before shaking his head. "Probably true, though my father is worse than most. However, he does say that he's where I got all my charm from. How much of that is true, I don't think we'll ever know."

"You do have a gift for it," she admits, looking away with a smile. She focuses on the horse and carefully holds out her hand, not moving too near in case the animal doesn't want to be petted. She knows that some are frightened by the sheer size of a hoop skirt coming at them. But this sweet old mare stays put and Christine reaches out more to lightly draw her knuckles over the bridge of its nose.

"Yes, sweet girl," she coos.

Dean smiles softly as the mare stays put, before making a soft clucking sound for her to come come closer. He gestures with his hand and the horse stumbles closer, moving into the soft press of her hand.

"That's it. See, she doesn't bite."

It's not particularly clear who he's talking to there.

Christine assumes at first that he's speaking to the horse because she's not afraid at all. Her worry was frightening the horse herself. But as Impala lets Christine rub her nose, the woman turns her head to smile up at Dean, understanding now that he may have been addressing her.

"I could never be afraid of such a gentle creature. Do you ride her too?"

"Yeah, every once in a while to get her some exercise." He glances back to her with a small smile. "Want to take her for a ride?" Because he could easily saddle up a couple of horses and take her for a ride around the property.

A tiny thrill shoots through her and she looks between Dean and the horse.

"I would love to -- if she doesn't mind an inexperienced rider?" She really doubts she could ride with enough confidence that the horse would listen to her.

"Nah, she's the best for that. We all learned to ride on her. She can be a bit difficult, but that's mostly when she's trying to figure out if you're riding her or if she's riding you." Which ... you want to be riding her, just for the record. "Just gotta show her who's boss."

There's an unappreciative snort from the horse. Dean turns back to her with a nod.

"You know I'm right."

Christine giggles at the horse's reaction and Dean talking back to her. Patting her nose, Christine adds, "You'll be nice to me, won't you sweet girl?" Because she's not sure if she can be the boss in this situation.

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