Like I said in the summary, this was co-written by loveintheimpala (who deserves like 80% of the credit), so thank you so much for this!
Hope you all enjoy!
Chapter One
Sometimes it's possible to tell that something awful has happened before any words are even spoken. There are times when speech just isn't required for a message to be understood. It could be because two people are close enough they can read each other like a book, at times when no words are needed, or even just down to the sheer amount of raw emotion that is displayed on someone's face. And, occasionally, it could be both.
That was how Dean just knew the night his sister-in-law knocked on the door of his motel room. Something had happened. Something bad. And the only thought in his head was please be okay.
But it wasn't as simple as that.
When someone showed up at the front door in the middle of the night without so much as a phone call, something wasn't right. Something is wrong if she's here like this, without even a heads up. It just isn't like her.
When they were standing in their pajamas, just a small jacket wrapped tightly around them to brace against the cold, as though it had been the first thing they had thought to grab on the way out, something had happened. Jesus Christ, she looks freezing. She isn't even dressed. What could be so important she didn't even have time to throw on a pair of jeans and something warm? She's shaking.
When they were standing with damp hair, as though they had just gotten out of the shower when they suddenly decided that they needed to up and leave the house, it was something urgent. What could be so bad that she didn't have the time to dry her hair before she left the house? Why was she in such a rush to get here?
And when there were tear tracks down their cheeks and mascara blotched beneath their eyes, it was definitely something bad. She looks heartbroken. What is bad enough that it has someone so strong crying like that in front of me?
She didn't have to speak for him to work it out. Whatever it was, it was going to be bad.
And so he stood there, perplexed, not sure of what to do, just taken aback by her appearance for a moment. It was as though his brain had just stopped working all together, completely shut down like everything in the world around him had fallen to a halt, because all that mattered to him now was the girl standing in front of him, looking as though she had just had her entire world ripped out from beneath her.
Honestly, he was afraid. He was afraid of what she was about to tell him, because he already knew that he wasn't going to like it.
A million thoughts seemed to suddenly slam into him at once. What the hell is going on? What's happened? Why is she on her own? What is she doing here in the first place? She's still there. Say something, you idiot. She's still standing outside. In the cold. Alone. Why is she alone? Dean cleared his throat, unsure of what else to do, and took a small step back from the doorway. He gave a short nod as indication for her to enter the motel room, but he still didn't speak. He didn't know what to say, or think.
That's my brother's wife. He thought, and he found his chest starting to sink in panic. That's the mother of my nephew. That's my sister-in-law. Why is she here, with me? Why isn't she with her family? Where's Sam? And Lucas? Are they back home? Why aren't they with her? Has something happened to them? Has something hurt them? What if something awful tracked them down, what if someone had gotten hurt? Is she hurt? She doesn't look hurt. Well, not physically. Is something after her? Is she running? Is it Sam? Has something happened to Sam? Or Lucas? No. No, that's not it. It can't be that. It has to be something stupid, they've probably just had a row. Yeah, that has to be it.
But, deep down, Dean knew it had to be something more. Unsure of what else he could do at that point, he closed the door after her quietly, so not to disturb the heavy silence that had since fallen throughout the room, and turned to face her. She stood in front of him, arms folded tightly over her chest, her eyes reddened from crying and her bottom lip noticeably quivering. She's not even breathing. He could tell, she was using absolutely everything in her to fight breaking down in front of him. And that hurt him to see.
"Kara?" he spoke her name softly, tentative, as though he wasn't sure he wanted to ask. He couldn't take anymore bad news. Stop it, Dean. This isn't about you. This is about her. You need to know. If she's in trouble you have to help her. "Hey," He took a small step forwards and rested a hand to her left shoulder, giving her a gentle but reassuring squeeze. "Sis, what's wrong?"
A soft choking sound left her at that, as though him calling her 'sis' was upsetting. He didn't get it, she had always seemed to smile at the thought. I've gotta be missing something here. What the hell is going on? Why hasn't she said anything?
Her mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. It was as though she couldn't find the words, like she couldn't pull them together well enough to from a sentence. "Dean," she whispered, and her voice cracked at his name, he didn't miss it. Her breath hitched and she took a short breath to steady herself again before she spoke. "Dean, I'm sorry." Fresh tears rolled down her cheeks as her blue eyes locked with his green. "I'm so sorry."
Why is she apologising to me? What reason could she have to apologise to me? This has to be about Sam, because what else could it be about? Is he hurt? Had she hurt him? Is that why she's apologising to me? A string of horrible thoughts hit him, cheating, abuse, fighting. But no. No, that isn't her. It has to be something more. Just ask her.
"What's happened?" he pressed, his voice was a little firmer, but no less soft. "Talk to me. You want some water,I can—"
"No," She grabbed his sleeve to stop him before he could walk away. Whatever it was, she was determined to get it out. "Dean, I—" She stopped herself and looked down for a moment. Her hand slipped from where it gripped his sleeve, just below his elbow, and stopped loosely around his wrist. "It's Sam." Her eyes rose to find his again. "Dean, he's gone."
Dean's eyes went wide. That can't be right. No, I must've heard wrong. Sammy couldn't be gone. She had to mean something else. He was on vacation...working away...anything...she couldn't mean...that. "G—Gone? No, what do you mean, gone?" He didn't even realise how much his voice was shaking with fear until he spoke. "He's not gone."
The tears continued to fall from her eyes at the sight of the water shimmering in his. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "He's d—" She pressed a hand to her mouth, because she couldn't say it. Not to him. Not to Dean. It wasn't fair. After everything, it wasn't fair. "Dean—"
"No." Dean stopped her, shaking his head firmly. Please don't say that word. Please don't say it. Please don't let that be true. Not Sam. But Dean knew, she could tell he knew. "Don't you dare try and tell me that." he warned her, his voice lethal. "Don't you even dare."
"Dean," She choked back a sob, trying to find the words, but he took a step back, shaking his head. What choice did she have? It was on her to tell him. She had to make him understand. Dean deserved that much. He had to hear it. He had to know. She had to tell him. "Dean," She reached up and held a hand to his cheek, her actions soft, caring, and sighed. "I'm sorry, Dean...Sam's dead." She managed to choke out the words, barely loud enough for her to hear them herself, but she could tell that he had heard her perfectly.
His entire stance dropped. Dean was always on the defence, he was always tense and ready to defend himself, that was how he had been trained, how he had been brought up, and that was how she had become accustomed to seeing him. But now, he looked defeated, as though he would make no effort to fight for his life should something break down the door. Dean looked lost, broken...empty.
There was a vacancy behind his eyes, something that just looked as though everything good in his life had slipped away. All signs of hope were gone, everything that gave him reason to fight was lost. Dean looked finished. She didn't recall ever seeing anyone look so devastated. It broke her heart all over again.
Slowly, he took a step back from her, still shaking his head. He wrapped a hand tightly in his hair and his breathing became heavier. This isn't right. She has to be wrong. Sammy can't be gone. He just can't be. He's out. He has a wife, a kid, he has a life. "H—how?" he stuttered, fighting back tears. Don't ask. Just don't ask. Maybe it will go away. But despite his thoughts, the words came out. "W—what happened?"
Kara looked reluctant to tell him. And that only made it worse. "Something came." she said quietly, solemn. Her crying calmed for a moment, as thought she knew she had to keep it together for him, because he wasn't going to hold it in much longer. "A demon. Sam sent me upstairs to Lucas...he fought..." Her breath hitched. "When I went downstairs...there was just...so much blood. I—"
But before she could say another word he brought her towards him and crushed her against his chest in a tight hold. His hands gripped tightly to the back of her jacket, the same way that hers gripped the back of his shirt, and they cried. He didn't even know who he was trying to comfort, himself or her. Dean's face buried into the shoulder of her jacket, hers pressed against his chest. The tears flowed and neither made a move to stop them.
How was he gone? Sammy. How could I not have protected him? How had he been in a position that he had to fight for the lives of his wife and child? He was supposed to be out. I was supposed to keep him safe. Why wasn't I there? Why didn't I save him? How could I do that to him? How did I just leave him there like that? I should've known.
"Dean," Her soft voice broke through his thoughts, and he pulled back enough to look down at her. There were tears streaked down his face, and he made no effort to wipe them away, that was the last thing on his mind at that point. "Dean, I'm sorry." She keeps saying sorry. Why does she keep saying sorry? "I mean, I knew...I was sitting in Lucas' room...I knew something bad was happening...If I'd have gone down sooner...I—"
Nothing else came out. Nothing else could come out. Her body was wracked with sobs. She clutched to the front of his t-shirt, gripping to him as though he was her only source of life. He could see she wasn't steady on her own legs, too consumed with the grief to even remember what her body was doing. Slowly, he maneuvered them so that they were sitting on the couch, and he pulled her against him, holding her tightly.
"Kara," He closed his eyes and rested his forehead to the top of her head. Why is she blaming herself? How can she blame herself? This was my fault. She should know that. How doesn't she see that? I let her husband die. My own brother. I left them there. "You can't blame yourself. This wasn't your fault. None of it was." he whispered the words, knowing she was hearing him, but not convinced she was accepting it. "I let you down. I let you both down. I'm so sorry."
That was enough to make her look at him. She looked shattered, as though her heart was made of glass and he had just taken a sledgehammer to it. "Dean," She shook her head slowly. "Dean, you couldn't have known. There was nothing you could've done. You weren't there, I was, I—"
"Hey." Dean stopped her firmly, wiping the tears from her cheeks, only for them to be replaced straight away with fresh ones. "This was not your fault. I need you to hear me on that. Please." She opened and closed her mouth, and he knew that she didn't believe him. But then something else struck him. "Where's Lucas? He's not...I mean...is he...?"
Kara shook her head. "He's okay. He's with my sister." she said quietly. "I can't be with him when..." she trailed off, glancing up at him for a moment, knowing he wouldn't like it.
Dean narrowed his eyes. "When, what?" What the hell is she planning? I know that look. She's about to do something stupid. "Kara?" he pressed when she said nothing.
Her face became dramatically darker, and it was a look that he had never witnessed in her before. "I can't be with him when we find the thing that murdered my husband."
He shook his head slowly. "No, no way." It was even worse than he had thought. "You are not doing that, Kara. You have a three year old son. You can't go down the same road as our dad with this. Please."
"This is one demon. And it slaughtered the man I loved most in this world, Dean." Her eyes pleaded with him to understand. "He's your brother, I know you feel the same. I need to be in this with you."
Dean did understand, of course he did. But what the hell was he supposed to say to her? I can't let her be a part of this. What would Sam say? She isn't a hunter. She's innocent. She shouldn't be around that kind of darkness. She can't turn into my dad. Lucas can't have the childhood we had. He sighed. Would it really be like that? It's only one demon. But then, Azazel was only one demon. And that one hunt, that one piece of revenge, it took over dad's entire life. I can't do that to her. Can I?
Dean looked down at her and shook his head. She won't sit this out. She's doing this, she's getting revenge, with or without me.
"You know what, we should get some sleep." he said quietly. He knew neither of them would sleep, but he couldn't face to talk about anything anymore. He just wanted it to stop. He wanted everything to stop. He needed time to think, to get his mind straight. "We'll talk about it tomorrow."
Kara opened her mouth, and for a moment he thought she was going to argue with him, but she quickly closed it again and nodded, somewhat thankful. Dean sniffed back the tears and closed his eyes as he once again pulled her towards him, holding her as she cried for her husband, while he cried for the loss of his brother.
It hadn't sunk in yet, not for him. But it was coming.
It was coming with the storm that was Dean Winchester.
Something was going to pay for it. He would make sure of that.
They both would.