Episode 5: Cry Wolf

Dean stared out the window into the darkness that was the night. The twinkling stars shone above him as he thought deeply about everything that had happened. He leaned his forearm up against the transparent glass. Moisture collected in his eyes. He wanted so badly to cry, but it wasn't in his nature, and he couldn't in front of his little brother. He had to be brave for Sam. The footsteps of young Sam Winchester walked forward next to Dean.

"Dean, I understand that you're upset, but you have got to get over her. Skye died to save you so that you could move on and help others…"

"Sam, please. Don't mention her. Don't mention Skye, don't mention dad… and don't mention mom. Just, please."

Sam stood there questioning everything about Dean. He didn't know how to talk to him without offending him.

"Dean, what's all this about? It's more than Skye's death, isn't it?"

"Sam… what did I just say?"

"I know, but I'm worried about you."

"Don't be."

Sam thought about what to say next. Ever since Skye had told Dean everything about her lies to him, Sam felt a little guilty that he hadn't confessed to him as well. It was bothering him that he had kissed Skye and not let Dean know. After all, Dean and Skye were dating, in a way.

"I have to tell you something. It's important."

"If it's about Skye, I don't want to hear it."

"Well too bad! You have to hear it. It's been killing me that I haven't told you sooner."

Dean looked at Sam with anger in his eyes.

"So you're going to tell me that you lied to me too? What is this? Pick on Dean week? I mean, first Skye gets kidnapped by demons, which you let her leave to begin with, she gets beaten to Hell, I rescue her and find out she has a chance of dying because she lost her powers, she leaves again, thanks to you, we save her from a burning building, my car gets shot at by a shape-shifter, and I had to fix that all by myself thank you very much, and then the only girl I've ever cared about dies literally in my arms and you tell me you have an important secret you've kept from me all this time", Dean snapped.

"Dean, I'm sorry, alright. Can I just tell you what it is?"

Dean turned back to the window, the same position he was in before. He didn't say anything else to Sam.

"Alright. I know this is a bad time, but when me and Skye were up on the roof of that motel, and we said we were just talking… I, um… it was more than that. I kissed her, Dean. I guess I have feelings for her that I didn't know I had. The reason she told you nothing happened was because she didn't want to hurt you, and neither do I. She loved you, Dean. She never felt much for me, but she loved you. Listen, I'm sorry anything happened, and I'm sorry I didn't tell you the truth."

Dean turned his head, momentarily to look at Sam. He held a blank expression. He mainly just wanted to see if Sam was truly feeling guilty. He was. Dean stared with the same expression out the window again. The same still scene was pasted on the glass.

"Well? Say something."

Dean said nothing.

"Dean, come on, this has got to hurt you. Tell me something, anything about what you're feeling. Maybe I can help you."

He was still silent and motionless.

"Dean, hell, say anything!"

There was a slight pause. Dean's voice broke the silence.

"Shut the door on your way out."

"Excuse me?"

Dean turned around again.

"Take my car and go. Go anywhere. I just need some time to think."

"I'm not leaving you like this. Not in this state."

"Fine."

Dean grabbed his brown leather jacket from the chair and slammed the door behind him. Sam watched through the same slab of glass Dean had as he watched his older brother march to the newly repaired Impala and zoom out onto the open road.

Dean drove madly behind the wheel of the classic police-like car that he cared for, being one of his last possessions his father had given him. He kept the blank yet serious expression on his face and an intense grip on the steering wheel. His thoughts clouded his mind. He was now unaware of his surroundings. For Dean, this was a first. He was breaking inside. From John's sudden and unexplained death to Skye's heart-wrenching sacrifice, he no longer felt the will to keep going.

Although he now stared out onto the dark dirt road, he wasn't seeing it. A slender brown animal shot out of the trees on the right side of the road. It stared back at Dean with doe eyes gleaming in the headlights. He slammed on the brakes so suddenly that the tires swerved crazily. Instead of Dean being in control of the Impala, it was in control of him. The car spun to a stop, screeching on the black tar road. When it came to a halt the car was only feet from the frightened animal and now sat on an angle from the straight, winding road. The deer galloped away into the dense forest of trees.

Dean sat in his seat, also frightened that he could have killed a harmless creature due to his absent mind. His stubbornness could cost others their lives. When he was sad or hurt, he always took it out in anger. He always took it out on his prey when hunting. Sam had told him often to deal with pain in other ways, but for Dean, it was a lot harder that it seemed. He lied back in his seat. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw.

"Why is this happening to me? Why can't I deal with this? I've put up with more than this. Mom died twenty-three years ago, and I still can't get over it. Why? Why is it such a hard thing to do? Why can't I face the fact that she's gone? There was nothing I could have done at the time anyway. And dad and Skye too? I mean, dad, come on, the guy was an ass! He never did what we wanted. He never cared about what we wanted. Everything he did was to kill that son of a bitch demon. He always barked orders at us and expected us to follow, no matter what. 'Act first. Ask questions later.' I hated that about him. And the Colt… why did he give up the Colt? The one advantage we had against the demon was that gun, and now it's gone. What the hell was he thinking just handing over the Colt to the enemy, the thing that killed mom and ruined our lives? And why did he kill himself to save me? It's not like I'm a better hunter than him. You know, I've had so many near death experiences and in each one I've had to watch someone die in my place. Why couldn't I just die and be done with it? I know. I have to save people. 'Saving people, hunting things. The family business.' Well screw the family business! I don't want anything to do with it! I want a home, a family, and a real life! And I want Skye. Man, I love her. Why did she have to go? I was supposed to die, not her. Never her. She could still be here right now. She could still be breathing. She was the one that couldn't die. God, I hate irony!"

He opened the car door and walked out into the middle of the road. He looked up to the dark, cloudy sky and screamed,

"It's all your fault! You made all this happen! If it weren't for you I'd still have a family, a girlfriend, and a decent friggin' life! Why are you doing this to me? Why can't I be happy? Why can't have one good thing in my life?"

His voice lowered in volume and became more normal.

"You know what? This is stupid. I don't believe in God. There is no God. There can't be a God. If there was I wouldn't be living in this Hell."

He shouted back at the clouds.

"You hear that? I don't believe in you! You're not real! And if you are, you do a real crappy job of making the world peaceful and happy, or whatever the hell they teach people in church!"

He paced around in a circular pattern like a panther caged in a zoo. He wanted rid of this feeling of depression. But most of all, he wanted his loved ones back. Dean dropped to his knees. His hands clutched together and propped up his head as they leaned against his forehead. He slouched over the ground letting his upper body fall closer and closer toward it. His eyes brimmed with tears.

He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the pure gold wedding ring that he kept as a memory of Skye. It bothered him that he didn't know the story behind the ring: how she got it; who gave it to her, and why she kept it all this time. Nevertheless, he kept it with him at all times to remind him of her beauty and sparkling personality. He drew back his fingers to stare at the souvenir in his palm. Memories came back to him.

"Skye… I wish you were here. I wish I could see you just one last time. I miss you."

As Dean stared at the shiny object he noticed movement beside him. He saw a hand being placed on his shoulder. He looked up to see who it was. The smooth, pale face of the girl from his dreams stood before him. She gently guided the other hand across his roughly shaven jaw. He glared at her in awe.

"Skye?"

She smiled at him sweetly.

"It's okay, Dean. Don't be sad. I'm all right. Look after Sam and keep hunting. I'll watch over you. I'll always be there for you. I'll always be by your side. Don't worry."

She leaned in toward him in attempt to give him a kiss. Dean closed his eyes. He didn't feel her touch. He popped open one eye, then the other. She was gone. Dean looked around him. He was still kneeling down on the hard gravelly ground. All he saw was the empty road and the breezy trees. He didn't understand. How was it possible for him to have seen her? She was dead. Though he knew the answer, he still looked for another way to explain it.

He got up from his spot and got back into his car. Putting away Skye's ring, he started up the motor of the Impala. He looked out at the place he had just sat, wishing she would come back again. She didn't. He turned around the black metallic car and raced back to the motel, the long way back.