Emily (iluvroadrunner6) wrote,

Dean/Elle - Weight of the World

Fandom: Heroes/Supernatural
Title: Weight of the World
Author: iluvroadrunner6
Rating: PG-13 // FRT
Characters: Dean Winchester/Elle Bishop, Sam Winchester
15_song_titles Prompt: Nobody Move, Nobody Get Hurt
Content Warning: Spoilers through 402: Are you there God? It’s Me, Dean Winchester and for 308: Villains, but set after 302: The Butterfly Effect.
Summary: Dean knew he’d have to make his way back there eventually.
Author's Note: Follows Goodbye my Hopeless Dream.
Disclaimer: Don’t own the characters of Supernatural or Heroes. They belong to the CW and NBC. Any and all other original characters are mine, however, so please don’t borrow without my permission.

Dean knew he would have to make his way back there eventually. After the shock of being brought back from the dead, Elle hadn’t been the first thing on his mind, but now that the dust had settled and he knew exactly what was going on, he was really starting to notice that their merry band was minus one. He wasn’t surprised, but he was worried, which is what lead to the very unhelpful conversation with his brother a few days later after everything with Castiel and the Witnesses went down.

“Sam, where’s Elle?”

Sam looked up at him, confused for a moment as though he was trying to place the name, and then shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since Indiana.”

Dean blinked for a minute, before tilting his head to the side slightly. “Didn't think to check and see if she was alright, where she was going?”

Sam was a bit taken aback. Dean could see that much on his brother’s face. He didn’t acknowledge it, though, just waited for Sam’s explanation as to why he didn’t know exactly where the girl who had tailed along with them for close to six months was. The girl they’d rescued from her dad was. The girl that had become a part of their lives, whether Sam had wanted it or not.

“I’m sorry, but you were dead, Dean. Forgive me if my first thought wasn’t to go check on Elle.”

Dean shifted so that he was resting his elbow on the arm of his chair, rubbing his forehead lightly as he did. “Have you heard from her at all—about anything?”

Sam frowned slightly, before reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. “Did she go back home?”

Dean paused for a minute, tilting his head to the side slightly. It made sense—her going back to Hartsdale, but the fact that she had to pissed him off. He and Sam had gone through hell to break her out of that shit hole, and because of him, she had to go back. He knew that it had been four months. He knew that she thought he was dead and was probably the last thought on her mind at the moment—but he had to go see her. He didn’t have to talk to her—he just had to make sure she was okay. He’d promised, after all—promises before death weren’t exactly something he’d forgotten.

“Pack up,” Dean said with a nod, starting to grab his stuff together.

“What?” Sam frowned.

“We’re going to Hartsdale.”

“Dean—are you sure? I mean, she thinks your dead. Maybe with everything that’s going on, we should just let sleeping dogs lie.”

He knew Sam was making sense. That she was a liability. That with the coming Apocalypse and all that, he probably shouldn’t be thinking about some girl that he was with once upon a time. But he just had to make sure that she was safe.

“I just want to make sure she’s okay.”

“Dean,” Sam looked over at him. “Are you sure that’s all you want?”

Dean paused in what he was doing, before looking over at him with a sigh. “It’s Elle, Sam.”

Sam sighed slightly, before nodding. “Alright, let’s go. But if she electrocutes you for screwing with her, I can’t necessarily say I’d blame her.”

Dean gave his brother a look, before turning on his heel and heading out the door. “I’ll be in the car.”


The first thing she saw was the car.

She’d know the Impala anywhere. Not many people drove a sixty-seven these days, and it was big enough that she couldn’t easily miss it. It also certainly didn’t belong in the parking lot of the Company’s New York location, but there it was, mocking her, reminding her of what she lost and how she really did have nothing now.

Angela had just fired her. Her father was dead, his skull sliced open by the man who was now invincible and unstoppable. The man she had helped turned into a monster. He had tried to kill her as well, but she had stopped him, the only way she knew how. It had resulted in people bigger and scarier than Sylar slipping out through their fingers, and put the nail in the coffin that was her life at Primatech. Angela was right—she did tend to be more trouble than she was worth. But now she truly had nothing to fall back on, and the Chevy Impala that had materialized in the parking lot was pissing her off more than anything else.

If she had the energy, she would have blown the damn thing up, just out of spite.

It was when her eyes wandered to the driver’s side and spotted the form leaning against the side of the door that her heart stopped. This extra touch was just too cruel. It couldn’t have been him—he’s been dead for four months. They wouldn’t have lied to her about something like that, not after he had promised her. She didn’t see Sam, either, which left no question in her mind that this wasn’t Dean. And not-Dean had picked a really bad day to come and screw with her head—because instead of being terrified, as she was sure it probably was expecting, she was just really pissed off.

Adrenaline pumped through her system and she could feel crackle of electricity skirting across the edge of her palm. It heard it, and it turned to face her, eyes wide first with something that might have resembled concern, but it was quickly followed by fear.


“You picked the wrong day to decide to come and screw with me,” she glared, her eyes narrowing as she raised her hand towards him, arc flying from her palm and shooting towards where the man was standing. He dropped down to the ground and it just missed grazing the top of his head, and he looked up at her with pleading eyes.

“Elle, it’s me—it’s really me,” he said, holding up his hands in some kind of defense.

“Dean’s dead. And you’re gonna be too, in about a half a second.” She rose her hand, fingers starting to spark again when she heard another voice over her shoulder.

“Elle! No!”

She turned, keeping her hand still raised and she spotted a frantic looking Sam with a tray of coffee in his hand. Her brow furrowed in confusion as she waited for some kind of explanation.

“It’s really him,” Sam said softly. “It’s a really long story, but it’s him, Elle. I promise.”

Her hand dropped, and the energy drained from her body, leaving her slumping against the side of the car. It had taken more out of her than she had anticipated, especially with that kind of discharge that she had made earlier. Her hand landed on the hood of the Impala as it caught her weight, but her eyes stayed on Dean. He had gotten up relatively quickly, and was looking her over with a concerned frown, hands wandering up to check the bandage on her head, and then looking her over for any other sign of injury.

“What happened?” he asked, and she blinked up at him, before shaking her head slightly.

“Hell no—you first.” There was still a bite of anger in her voice, and she pulled away from him slightly. She didn’t want to, but she wanted an explanation first. “What happened? How did you—?”

Dean’s eyes dropped to the ground, and he shook his head. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“So what—is this just a brief thing? You made another deal? What, Dean?” What the hell was he even doing here? Just come to rub it in her face that his life was in one piece again just as hers was falling apart.

Dean seemed to be a bit taken aback, and he looking over at Sam. “An angel pulled him out,” Sam sighed. “He put him back in his body, because they need his help to stop Lilith.”

Of course they did. Her eyes dropped towards her hands, playing with her fingers lightly. Dean was always one of the good guys. One of those people who would try and save the world if they had the chance. So of course he’s saved by a piece of divine providence—something like that was always on the agenda for people like him. She swallowed hard, before looking up at him, trying her best to keep a straight face.

“So what’re you doing here?”

Honestly, this was the last place she expected them to show up. It’d been four months—he could have just left her none the wiser and gone on with his life. But he didn’t—he came to see her, and that was where she was getting confused. Dean just blinked at her for a moment before shrugging slightly, his hands finding their way into his pockets.

“I promised, didn’t I?”

After that, everything crumbled. All the grief that had been building up over the course of the day, that had been building for months. Elle just snapped under the unexpected kindness. He’d died, gone to Hell, and come back and he still hadn’t broken a promise to her yet. Her body pitched forward into him, collapsing under the past twenty four hours, and just leaning into him. He slid his arms around her, pulling her in closer, letting his lips come to rest against the top of her head.

“C’mon—I’ll take you home, alright?”


Tags: crossover}: ship ~ dean/elle, fandom}: heroes, fandom}: supernatural, heroes}: elle bishop, prompts}: 15_song_titles, supernatural}: dean winchester, supernatural}: sam winchester
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