Rating: R
Characters: Ava, Dean and Sam with hints of Sam/Ava
Summary: It starts with an exorcism in Indiana, the demon screaming out inside her and the cold, cold eyes of Dean Winchester.
Authors Note:This is the fic that ate my brain.
Endless amounts of love and thanks to veracity who talked me through this craziness and for fran06 wonderful beta skills.
It starts with an exorcism in Indiana, the demon screaming out inside her and the cold, cold eyes of Dean Winchester. Ava remembers her lips forming around the words, the vulgar, cutting lexis that burrowed into Sam and burned out what little hope he had left before Dean silenced her with his quick hands, darkness rising up inside him so sudden and fast she felt the demon quickening in response. Then they read the words in tandem, strange catches of Latin Ava remembers from mass ringing inside her, driving out the thing that was rotting her from the inside out.
---
She wakes in the back of the Impala, her head in Sam's lap, the world outside passing by in a dark blur. Her body feels hallowed out, empty of the presence that had crowded her into that small corner of her mind for so long. Everything feels strange; sensations long denied returning and it leaves her feeling exposed, broken. When she looks at Sam's face she feels guilt and fear, remembers all the questions she had about him that the demon inside answered with mockery - with pain and intention.
---
Ava has nightmares of being possessed again, the crawling darkness blotting her out completely for weeks afterwards. Sam is the one to wake her, a gentle hand on her shoulder as the ratty bed of some motel dips under his weight. He never talks to her, just touches the side of her face until she nods and then he slips quietly back in bed beside Dean who never wakes or doesn't care when she cries out. Ava's not really sure which is true but what matters is that Sam's there because Evan - whose grave she hasn't even visited - can't be.
---
A month after living together, seeing the kind of life the world afforded people like them, she and Sam begin dreaming in sync. The first time it happens they freak Dean out, voices rising together in a cry of warning, a cry of help. "Jesus Sammy," is all he can say when they try to explain what they're still not sure of it. They both know something is coming, it's not in what they see but what they feel building inside. They don't try to explain that to Dean but Ava thinks he knows because sometimes she catches him watching her, worried and angry.
It's not her fault, what's happening but she takes his anger, lets it fester inside because she'll need it soon enough.
---
Dean is dead, eyes wide in surprise and Ava thinks she can hear the echo of betrayal if she rests her ear close enough to his blue mouth. Sam stands behind him; knife in hand and his face is twisted, ashen in color. He smells like the dead and his hand is cold on her cheek, pupils tinted yellow. She can see others behind, faces she recognizes even though they've never met. They are just like her and Sam.
"You can't fight it," Sam tells her but all Ava can look at is Dean.
"He was your brother."
"He was in the way," Sam says like it doesn't matter and Ava knows they've lost. There is no emotion inside him, no anger or seeping evil. Something's hollowed him out, taken away what made him Sam and it's going to do the same to her. Ava wants to give up but she won't because Evan didn't die for her to just fade away.
"Go to hell," she says and she twists the knife up and into his gut as she wakes up screaming. It takes both Dean and Sam to hold her down, to talk her back into their world.
"They're coming! Oh God they're coming Sam," is all she can say and for the first time Dean is looking at her, really looking and beyond what this life has twisted him into she sees real fear and hopelessness.
---
Ava can't bring herself to look at Sam and she doesn't sleep the rest of the night. When Dean wakes before dawn to get coffee she wordlessly joins him, hands buried deep inside her jacket against the cold. He doesn't make conversation, but he pays for their coffee. They linger in the shop for a few minutes and Ava warms her hand around the plastic cup, her fingers tingling with returning sensation.
They're almost back when she finally finds the words she wants to say, the ones that caught in her scream the night before. She touches his arm and he looks like he's going to say something rude, unnecessarily cruel but her expression stills him. He watches her intently and it makes her think of Indiana and the demon that lived inside her for those many months.
"This about last night?" he asks impatiently.
"Yes." She needs to say this. "Promise me," she starts and he makes an incredulous noise in the back of his throat but Ava presses on. "This isn't about you," she tells him and her voice is hard, sharp enough to make him flinch. She doesn't know how to soften the blow and she's not sure if Dean deserves that much. "If they get to us…to me and Sam, promise me you'll kill us. Kill every last one of us."
"Ava," he starts and she realizes it's the first time she's ever heard him say her name.
"Dean," she interrupts, "Promise me. It won't be us. I've seen what they'll do, what Sam will do when they get to him."
"I'll do my job," he says and they start walking again. Ava's not stupid enough to think this has changed anything between them but she believes Dean and that's what matters.
---
They don't take her on the hunts and Ava's not sure if she should be thankful or angry. She does her job though, when they come back battered and cut open, she helps, mends where she can.
"Stay still," Ava says and she's rougher then she needs to be when she pulls out the letter opener embedded in Dean's leg. Blood wells up and over the pale skin, darkening his jeans and for a moment she freezes, in panic and fear. It's deep red, warm over her hands and she remembers the rest stop in Texas and the man's throat she cut. She remembers what it was to feel his life slip away, to dip her fingers into the golden chalice full of his blood and call home. She barely makes it to the trash; retches until her back and stomach spasm painfully.
---
Ava does her first exorcism six months after her own because Dean is unconscious on the floor; pulse fluttering wildly at his neck and Sam can't do this alone. She reads the words in their father's handwriting and she doesn't stop, doesn't hesitate when the man screams and cries out for help, for salvation. When he slumps in the chair, body limp as the sky absorbs the blackness that rose out of him Sam puts a hand on her shoulder, warm and firm. "You did good," he says and takes the journal out of her hand.
She doesn't realize she's shaking, scared and overwhelmed until he curls a hand around her neck and pulls her into his chest. The tears surprised her. She's already cried for Evan, already buried him and it takes her a moment - Sam's voice soft in her ear- to realize she's crying for herself, for everything she's lost and everything that's been taken from her.
---
It happens when Dean's gone for the food. She comes out of the shower, bone tired and dripping wet with the thin towel tucked around her slight, pale frame and Sam's there, standing in the small opening that leads out to the sinks and the rest of the room. They both freeze and Ava can feel the small trickle of embarrassment as she takes in his naked chest, jeans and bare feet. She sees his skin flush deep red but he doesn't look away and when he steps forward she doesn't step back.
He hesitates for only a second and she's glad for it before he drops the bundle of clothes and towels in his hands and reaches for her. She isn't surprised; she's felt this building inside them. It's been eight months since Evan's death, almost two years since Jess died and Ava knows somewhere deep inside this might be wrong but she's just so tired, that she doesn't care anymore. She can't deny how good it feels to take this, to let him overcome her.
The tile is still warm and slick from her shower and he stumbles, gets twisted up in the bath mat on the floor before he settles her firmly against the wall. He kisses her sweet and gentle even as his hands move with urgency across her neck and collarbone. "Can I, can I," he breathes against her mouth, hand hovering above her stomach and she cries yes, feels him push the towel aside and slide his fingers around to her back, press her against him.
She doesn't realize he's stepped out of his jeans until she feels the skin of his thighs, the tickle of hair against her skin. They shouldn't be doing this in the bathroom of some run down hotel but they're not the same people anymore and this gentle, fumbling fuck against the tile wall might be all they're given.
When they're almost done Ava doesn't think of Evan or what's coming. She just feels Sam's lips on her own, his body warm and alive above her as everything fades away.
---
When it's over Dean's at her feet, sprawled out and bloody but alive. It's nothing and everything like her dream because Sam is dead by her hand but they've won. It's over and all the children, the ones the demon gathered and the ones he didn't are free. Ava should be happy but all she can see is Sam and his blood on her hands as she helps Dean to the Impala.
---
Ava stays with Dean in the hospital, watches the nurses change his bandages and sees where they sewed him back together again. He wakes up to her bruised face and her fear cloys at his sense, overwhelms him until he turns away without a word, embarrassed and angry she did what he couldn't do, what his father asked of him. "I forgive you," he tells her but it isn't her fault, she didn't ask for this. None of them did but they're the ones alive, left to deal with the mess and as much as Dean wants to hate her he can't. He needs her to know that.
His family's gone and he's alone for the first time, sinking under his worst fears but Ava is there before him, so lost and helpless that Dean thinks Sam would never forgive him for leaving her behind. He turns around finally and takes her hand, pulls her down on the floor until she's kneeling next to his bed. "Hey," he says quietly and her eyes are wide and brown like Sam's. She needs him and Dean needs someone to protect and take care of, he's spent too long doing that to stop now.
---
When they discharge him days later he lets Ava drive because the fire in his stomach takes his breath and it's all he can do to stay still in the car when she pulls out, hesitant and unsteady. She asks him where they're going and Dean doesn't know, doesn't care. "Just drive," he tells her and it's not until they've hit the open road, the wind roaring past that he relaxes into the leather. Sam is gone but the world is moving on and there are new, dark things crawling out of hell everyday for them to fight.
Neither of them will ever be Sam but they can be themselves and for now, that's enough.