After taking a poll and giving it some thought, I have decided that the fanfiction will include romance (with one woman). However, there will be no romance in the current world; it will occur in the coming worlds.
Thanks.
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When Dean woke up, he felt quite refreshed. After drinking a gallon of water and washing his face, he headed back to his car, popped the door open, and tried fiddling with the stereo that had gone dead after he'd punched it earlier. No luck. The wires looked fine, but the thing just wouldn't turn on.
Evening came creeping in, the sun dipping low and it would have been beautiful scenery to see as one looked over the horizon, but unfortunately the town gave everything a creepy look. Only two hours or so remained until sunset.
Dean drifted toward a playground by the road, where two old swings creaked in the breeze. He sat down, chains cool in his hands, and let himself sway a little.
For a while he just stared at the dirt, eyes unfocused, mind in the glow of the strange panel only he could see. He scrolled through the system again, testing things he'd already tested. Nothing new. No hidden trick waiting for him.
He did figure one thing out: the skills and abilities he had couldn't be trained or leveled up. They were locked the way they were. Bought once, stuck forever. It was both steady and frustrating.
He sighed and leaned back, letting the swing sway. That was when he noticed her.
A little girl wandered toward him, small in a faded dress, her hair tied in pigtails. She looked familiar. Too familiar. It took Dean a second, then it hit—she was the one. The girl who wasn't supposed to live past today. If not for him, she and her mother would've been the monsters' next meal.
She stopped a few feet away, bare toes curling in the dirt as she stared up at him.
"Hi," she said, voice soft, almost shy.
Dean smiled as he replied, "Hey there."
She tilted her head, eyes narrowing in that curious way only kids managed. "You're new."
"Yeah," Dean said. "Guess I am."
Her gaze flicked toward the houses, then back to him. "Mama says new people get scared a lot."
Dean chuckled under his breath. "Your mama's not wrong."
"Are you scared?" she asked, eyes wide, almost expectant.
Dean hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. A little."
She thought about that, her small face scrunching like she was working out a puzzle. "You don't look it."
"That's 'cause I'm good at hiding it," Dean said, lowering his voice like he was telling her a secret. "What's your name?" he asked.
"Meagan," she said quickly, rocking back on her heels.
"Nice to meet you, Meagan. I'm Dean."
"Dean," she repeated, testing the name like it was new candy. Then, after a pause, she tilted her head. "Do you got any friends here?"
Dean thought for a second, then nodded. "Yeah. Kenny."
Her eyes widened a little. "Kenny's your friend?"
Dean gave a small smile. "Guess so. He's been helping me out since I got here."
That seemed to satisfy her, and she rocked back on her heels. "Kenny's nice. He shares his toys sometimes. Mama says that means he's good… not like the bad people."
She paused and leaned closer, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. "Bad people knock at windows at night. Mama and Daddy say to never open the windows for them."
Dean's smile faltered. He wanted to tell her don't ever open one. Ever. But instead, he just said, "Your parents are smart. You listen to them, okay?"
"Mm-hm." She looked up again, bright-eyed. "Wanna see my doll later?"
Dean smiled at the innocent little girl with no idea how cruel this place was and replied, "Yeah. I'd like that."
They stayed like that for a while—him on the swing, her drawing circles in the dirt. And the longer Dean watched her, the heavier it got. A kid this little shouldn't have to grow up in a shithole like this, where monsters skulked outside and fear lived in every house. She should've been playing in a backyard, watching cartoons, learning her letters. She should've had a real childhood. Instead, she was stuck here. And that, Dean thought bitterly, was the real tragedy.
He stayed on the swing longer than he meant to. The chains groaned as he swayed, boots dragging shallow lines in the dirt. Maegan had gone quiet, crouched in the dust, drawing shapes with her finger. Every so often she peeked up at him like she was waiting for something.
Only then did he realize he'd been sitting in a seat clearly made for kids. The other swing beside him was broken clean through, one chain dangling lower than the other. And Maegan seemed to be waiting for her turn on the swings.
He pushed himself up from the swing, joints popping as he stretched. He gave the chains a little pat and looked at Maegan.
"Your turn."
Her eyes lit up. She dusted her hands on her dress and scrambled over, climbing onto the seat and gripping the chains with both hands. Dean started to head off toward the post office, figuring Donna would turn up soon for that Colony House tour. But before he got more than a few steps, her voice called out.
"Wait!"
Dean stopped and turned. She was staring at him from the swing, legs dangling. "Don't go yet."
He raised his brows. "You need something?"
"Play with me," she said softly, holding the chains tight.
Dean huffed a laugh. "Play, huh?"
She nodded, her pigtails bouncing.
He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling pity for the girl who had no kids of her age to play with and spoke, "Alright. You want a push?"
Her grin spread so wide it almost split her face. "Yes!"
Dean grabbed the chains just above her tiny hands and gave the swing an easy tug, sending her forward and back.
"Faster!" she squealed.
Dean chuckled. "Hold on tight."
She kicked her legs and let out a laugh that rang down the street. "Whee!"
Dean couldn't help smiling. For a moment it almost felt normal.
"More!" she demanded.
He pushed again, steady and careful. "Not trying to send you into the clouds, you know."
"You can't!" she shouted over her shoulder. "I'm too big now!"
Dean barked a laugh. "Big? You're what—twenty pounds?"
"Uh-uh. I'm six!" she declared proudly.
"Six pounds then."
She gasped and twisted to glare at him mid-swing. "No! I'm a big kid!"
"Yeah?" Dean smirked. "Big kid, huh?"
"Yes!" She kicked harder, trying to make herself go faster.
Dean gave her another push. "Alright, big kid. You win."
She giggled, gripping the chains tighter. After a moment she called back, "You gotta play too."
Dean frowned. "I am playing. I'm the one pushing, aren't I?"
"Nooo," she said, shaking her head so hard her pigtails whipped. "You sit. And I'll push."
Dean eyed the little plastic seat and then his own size. "If I sit on that, with my weight you won't be able to push the swing, big kid."
She pouted. "Not fair."
Dean crouched beside her, steadying the swing with one hand. "Tell you what. I'll keep pushing, and you keep swinging. Deal?"
She thought about it, then gave a thoughtful nod. "Deal."
He pushed again, and she squealed in delight.
From the porch of a nearby house, the screen door creaked open. A woman stepped out, wiping her hands on a dish towel. She froze for a second when she spotted them—her daughter swinging, her daughter laughing.
Her name was Lauren. Dean had seen her once earlier that day, when Kenny introduced him around, but they hadn't spoken more than a polite nod. Now she stood there on the porch, lips parting like she meant to call out. But she didn't. She just stood and watched, the corners of her mouth twitching upward as if she barely remembered how to smile.
It had been too long since she'd heard Maegan laugh like that.
Dean caught her watching and gave a small nod, still keeping one hand on the chains. "She talked me into it," he said quietly, almost an apology.
Lauren shook her head, soft. "Don't stop."
Dean blinked, but she was already folding her arms, leaning on the railing, watching her daughter with a look that carried both relief and sadness.
Maegan noticed her mom finally and shouted, "Mama! Look how high!"
Lauren gave a little laugh. "I see, sweetie."
Dean gave the swing a little more force, careful not to overdo it, making Maegan shout with joy again.
That got Lauren smiling again. She hadn't seen her daughter this loud, this animated, in months.
The sound of boots on the porch steps made her turn. Frank came out, wiping sweat off his brow, shirt still marked from whatever work he'd been doing inside. He followed her gaze, frowning at first, then softening when he saw his daughter squealing on the swing.
Her giggles turned breathless, softer now. Dean slowed the swing until it scraped the dirt. He crouched beside her.
"Alright, champ. I gotta talk to your mom and dad. Think you can swing on your own?"
Maegan pouted. "But—"
"Hey," Dean said gently. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be right over there." He nodded toward the porch. "You show me how high you can go without me."
She studied him, serious, then nodded. "Okay. But you gotta watch."
Dean grinned. "Deal." He gave her one last push, then stood. She started pumping her legs, determined to prove herself.
He dusted his jeans and headed to the porch. The boards groaned under his boots as he stepped up.
"Lauren and Frank, right? Hope I got that right. I met dozens of people today."
Frank gave a short laugh. "Then you've got a decent memory. Most folks don't get it the first time."
Dean shrugged. "Faces stick easier than names."
Frank's eyes flicked to Maegan, swinging so hard her pigtails flew. "Appreciate that. She doesn't usually talk much to strangers. And it's been a long time since we heard her laugh like that."
Dean shook his head. "She did the work. Kid's persistent. Had me playing before I knew what was happening." His voice dipped as he looked at Maegan again. "She reminds me of my little sister. Emma."
Lauren's arms folded on the rail. Her voice softened. "I'm sorry."
Dean gave a dry smile. "Why? She's alive. Just… not here."
Lauren's eyes dropped to the swing, her daughter's laughter carrying across the yard. "That's why. Once you're here, you don't see them again. Nobody gets out."
The words hung heavy.
Dean didn't answer. He just watched Maegan, her little hands gripping the chains, her laughter bright in the evening sun.
He finally pulled his eyes from the swing and turned back to the couple. His voice low, steady but sharp.
"Maegan told me something earlier," he said. "Said those monsters knock on her window at night. Try to trick her into letting them in. You know anything about that?"
Lauren's expression tightened, and she nodded. "Yes. But I don't let her open it. I tell her every night—don't listen, don't move, don't touch the window."
Dean sighed. "Kids are curious. You can tell them a hundred times, but what if you're not quick enough one night? God forbid, she cracks it open even an inch…" He shook his head. "It'd be over."
Frank lowered his eyes, guilt written all over his face as he replied, "Yeah. I know. I was just working on nailing the windows shut. Making sure the place is locked down. Should've done it sooner."
Dean asked, "Need a hand with it?"
Frank shook his head quickly. "No. It's done. Everything's secure."
Dean gave a short nod, and turned towards Maegan after she complained that he wasn't paying attention.
On the swing, Maegan laughed again, pumping her legs as high as she could. The sound carried through the yard, light against the weight of their conversation.
Frank's gaze slid to her, and though he forced a small smile, the guilt never left his face.
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