Hi Everyone!
Welcome to She Drove A Cadillac, A Supernatural Fanfiction! Thank you for choosing my story! :)
I just wanted to first put up this copyright and disclaimer, for formal purposes:
Copyright by Sofia Quiñones
All Rights Reserved
No unauthorized use of this novel, its plot, or characters, their names and so forth. This only applies to characters that I have created. I do not own Supernatural nor did I create Sam and Dean Winchester, Castiel, or any other central character found in the television show Supernatural. All plagiarism will be reported. Permission for any kind of use of this story must be granted by the author (me).
Thank you!
Now that that is out of the way, onward to the story! The Prologue awaits!
"No."
It was only one little word, but the impact it had would have taken down a thousand men.
"What is that supposed to mean?" A disgruntled Dean Winchester asked, his tone harsh, annoyed, angry. He was tempted to ask her if that was the only word she knew, but he held his tongue. He had to choose his next words carefully.
"I..." Castiel began, clearing his throat awkwardly, "I'm pretty sure she meant 'no', Dean."
"Yeah I heard her, but what I don't understand is why." There was a fire behind his eyes.
"Dean..." Sam said, his voice low.
He avoided eye contact with her, knowing that her leaving was inevitable. He couldn't stop her, neither could Cas. If anyone could keep her from walking away, it would be Dean. But this time, it was different. She was not backing down from her decision. She continued to stand there, arms folded over her chest in defiance, narrowing her eyes at Dean as Castiel and Sam looked on helplessly at their growing tension. Soon, somebody would snap.
"Sam, let me handle this." Dean snapped, his voice a deep growl.
"Dean..."
"Cas damnit, I said let me handle this."
"No, no more," she said, her voice stern and final, "we're done here."
And then she turned her back on them. The family that had taken her in, the team that she would give her life for—and had. Three boys that she loved.
With one swift move, she had turned to walk out of the motel room, car keys jangling in her left hand as her right grasped the doorknob. She paused in the doorway, refusing to look back, or risk seeing the wounds her words had inflicted. She could feel her hands shake with anger, with sorrow, and she tightened her grip on the doorknob. A single tear blurred the vision of her left eye, stinging and alerting her that she was dangerously close to falling apart.
Their gazes bore into her back, hoping, praying that she would turn around, change her mind.
"Jane..." Dean said, his voice almost a whisper. The pain in his voice sent a shiver down her spine.
He sounded desperate, a side of Dean that rarely exploited itself. Raw emotion, tender, loving. She knew what he was trying to do. A lump formed in her throat as she fought to hold back the tears. The tone of voice that spoke her name stung. But she wouldn't dare turn around and face them.
Her knuckles ached as she continued to grasp the doorknob. She knew Sam was accustomed to appealing to the emotions of others, sympathizing and calming. But when Dean acted in this way, you knew he was being completely honest with you.
It made her knees weak. He had only spoken her name, and yet, he had spoken volumes, not only asking her to stay, but begging. He was baiting her, trying to get to her to come back to them, get her to listen and consider their plans from their point of view. But she wouldn't have it.
Sam and Dean were aware of her love for them—how she would drop everything to go and help them. She had gone along with their plans in the past, even if she disagreed, warning them that next time she wouldn't let them go through with such acts of stupidity and ill thought. But she could never keep her word. Until now.
Sam shifted his gaze over to his brother, worry and hope that his brother's small plea would change her decision. Dean took a small step forward.
"Jane..." He began again, but his words were cut off by the slamming of the motel room door behind her.
The silence that followed was empty, hollow, only to be broken by the sound of a Cadillac's fierce engine. The brightness of the headlights shone through the windows, moving across the room like a spotlight on some unknown subject, as the car pulled out of the parking lot.
The boys were left, standing there, unable to move, stunned by how the situation had just fallen to ruin before their eyes. She had allowed herself to become sand in their hands, and now they had let her slip through their fingers.