Chapter Four
That night it rained heavily, which meant the Roadhouse lacked the many customers Ellen assured them the place usually had. Alyson helped fix dinner for Sam, Dean, and herself and they ate at one of the tables near the bar.
"So you can cook," Dean said. "Why haven't you mentioned this useful talent?"
She grinned and shook her head. "It's not one of my favorite things to do."
"Hm. Can you bake?"
"Dean . . ." Sam said.
"What?"
Alyson saw the grin on Sam's face and the answering grin on Dean's lips – neither grin was wholehearted, but there was some amusement behind them.
"Why do you wanna know if I can bake?"
"Pie!" Dean exclaimed. "You could bake me a pie!"
"Um . . . I know how to use an oven. How hard could baking a pie be?"
If pie was something that Dean wanted, something that could give him a little happiness, she would learn to make the best pie he'd ever had.
Later, in the room Ellen had loaned them for the night, Sam and Dean talked as Alyson played on her laptop.
Dean had heard Sam earlier when he'd told Alyson he wanted to keep fighting the good fight. Dean assumed that meant he wanted to keep hunting – at least until this demon was taken care of.
"So that whole line you gave earlier about the good fight . . . Were you just sayin' it? Or did you mean it?"
"I don't know," Sam answered.
"You don't know? I thought that once the demon was dead and the fat lady sings that you were gonna head back to Wussy State."
That had always been Sam's plan from the start. Find the demon, kill the demon, go back to school and become some hotshot lawyer. The way Sam had been talking to Aly, however, it seemed that Sam had changed his mind.
"I'm havin' second thoughts," Sam said.
"Really?"
Sam nodded and then looked at Alyson before speaking. He spoke quietly even though she had headphones on. She must've been watching something or listening to music.
"Yeah. Yeah, I think Dad would've wanted me to stick to the job."
"Since when do you care what Dad wanted? You spent half your life doin' exactly what he didn't want, Sam."
Dean tried to keep his voice low too even though Alyson probably couldn't hear him. This was a family issue and she didn't need to be dragged into it.
"Since he died, okay? Do you have a problem with that?"
"No, I don't have a problem at all."
A few months ago Dean would've been ecstatic to hear that Sam wanted to continue hunting because it would've meant that Sammy would be sticking around. It still meant Sam would be staying with Dean, but he was doing it for all the wrong reasons.
"Hey, you think . . . you think Dad and Ellen ever had a thing?"
"No way," Dean answered.
"Then, why didn't he tell us about her?"
"I don't know. Maybe they had some sort of falling out."
"Yeah. You ever notice Dad had a falling out with just about everybody?"
Dean nodded but didn't say anything.
"Well, don't get all maudlin on me, man."
Sam and Dean fell silent for a moment as Alyson laid down. She still had her headphones in, but she was now on her side. Dean noticed she was watching The Princess Bride
"This strong and silent thing of yours . . . It's crap and I'm over it. This isn't just anyone we're talking about. This is Dad. I know how you felt about the man."
Dean rolled his eyes and said, "You know what? Back off, a'right. Just because I'm not caring and sharing like you want me to –"
"No, that's not what this is about, Dean. I don't care how you deal with this, but you have to deal with it. I'm your brother and I just wanna make sure you're okay."
"Dude, I'm okay. Okay?" Irrational anger shot through him and Dean shouted, "I swear the next person who asks if I'm okay, I'm gonna start throwin' punches. These are your issues. Quit dumpin' 'em on me."
"What're you talkin' about?"
"I just think it's really interesting, this sudden obedience you have to Dad. It's like, 'Oh, what would Dad want me to do?' Sam, you spent your entire life sluggin' it out with the man. I mean, you picked a fight with him the last time you ever saw him, and now that he's dead, now you wanna make it right? Well, I'm sorry, Sam, but you can't. It's too little too late."
"Why're you sayin' this to me?"
"Because I want you to be honest with yourself about this. I'm dealing with Dad's death! Are you?"
Sam sat there, frozen for a moment, before shaking his head and getting up from his chair and walking out of the room.
Dean had regretted his word choices as soon as he'd said them. He regretted them more now that Sam had walked away from him.
"So . . . are you gonna say something to me?"
Dean's head snapped towards the bed where Alyson was still laying. She no longer had her headphones on and she was looking at him with disapproval.
"What?"
"I don't know. You seem to be saying hurtful things to everybody lately. You can't deal and you're laying it off on us. Sam's hurting, too, you know, but at least he's not lashing out randomly."
Dean clenched his jaw shut so he wouldn't say anything. Besides, she had turned her attention back to her movie.
After the Roadhouse had closed and when everyone else was in bed and asleep, Alyson woke up. The room Ellen had let them use had two beds. She was sharing with Dean, as usual, and Sam was using the other bed.
Both brothers were asleep.
Alyson quietly got up and went out of the room and then went out to the main part of the Roadhouse. She knew no one in the back would hear anything she did because she hadn't been able to hear anything even when it had been open earlier.
The clock on the bar read 2:00. She still didn't like sleeping at night and her nightmares had grown in intensity since she'd had to face almost losing Dean.
To pass the time she set up the pool table just to see if she could knock the balls in. She had never played pool before. After a few minutes of playing, Alyson realized she was a terrible pool player. It didn't stop her from trying to play, though.
She heard the groaning of floor boards behind her and she tensed. She gripped the stick as if she were getting ready to strike with it.
"It's just me," Dean said before she actually got around to swinging it.
"Dean!" She spun around, without the stick, and glared even as she felt relief flow through her. "Don't sneak up on me."
"Sorry. I woke up and you weren't there. I had to check on you."
"Right. Well, I'm okay. Couldn't sleep."
"Hm." Dean glanced at the pool table. "Can't play pool either, apparently."
"I've never played. Wanna teach me?"
"Sure."
Dean collected both the stripes and the solids and set them up so they could start over.
"Do you wanna break or should I?" Dean asked.
"You can."
"'Kay."
Dean took the shot and the balls spread over the table. None of them went in, however.
"Your turn. Since you're learning you don't have to call it or put them in order. Just pick whether you want solids or stripes."
She chose solids. She scratched her first shot, so Dean let her try again.
"So . . . Sam's asleep," he said. "And you said you'd be there if . . ."
She looked up from the pool table but didn't say anything. She didn't want to push him or make him shut down. He would have to lead with this conversation.
"I don't wanna talk about my dad," he stated, "but we could talk about something else."
"Okay."
"Um . . . Okay. Are you okay? You're still having nightmares."
"Not really," she answered the first question. "I'm . . . not dreaming about my mom anymore, though."
"Well . . . what're you dreaming about?"
She took a deep breath, lined up her shot, and said, "You," as she struck the red ball. It went in.
"What d'ya know?" she said.
"Why're you havin' nightmares about me?"
"Because you almost died, Dean," she said, the words almost choking her on their way out.
Dean didn't say anything to that, but he looked at her with wonder in his eyes. Did he have no idea that she cared about him? Really? Did he really not know how negatively his death would've affected her?
They played in silence for a while until Dean restarted their conversation, for which Alyson was grateful because she just didn't know what to say after what she'd admitted.
"What did you like doing in your old life?"
"Out of everything we could talk about, you wanna talk about me?" She smiled softly. "How odd."
"Well, I sure don't wanna talk about myself. And you don't have to answer if you don't want to."
"No, it's okay," she was quick to reassure him. "It's just, um . . . my life was kind of boring. I was a homebody, and I didn't go on dates or to parties. I went to movies with my friends sometimes. Mostly I just stayed home."
"Why?"
"Um . . . I don't know. I spent a lot of time alone. It was easier to think that way. It may have escaped your keen notice, but my mind is always thinking."
Dean seemed genuinely curious about what had gone on in her life before she'd met him and Sam. She didn't know why.
"I didn't go to parties because I just wasn't into that whole scene – the drinking and stuff. Plus, being around a bunch of people at once kind of makes me nervous. I'm that person who will always be socially awkward."
"Yeah, but what did you like to do? I know you like music and you like to read, but what else?"
"I liked archery and fencing when I took them in school. Fencing was like dancing to me, since it was all choreographed and I knew I would really hurt anyone. Same with my defense classes – it was an art form and was beautiful once I learned it."
Dean and Alyson stayed up until 5:30 talking about playing pool. They didn't really talk about anything serious. They learned each other's likes and dislikes. They talked about movies, about how Alyson had loved horror movies until her life had become one. She had loved the horror movies that had humor in it also, the kind that made fun of themselves.
They talked about music and how Dean loved classic rock because he'd grown up listening to it. In fact, when he'd been a teenager his dream had been to be a rock star, but wasn't that every kid's dream at some point?
They even talked about books. Contrary to popular belief, Dean didn't mind reading as long as the book was good enough to draw him in. He wasn't like Sam, who could read anything that happened to be in front of him.
"We really should head to bed," Dean said.
"Right. Thanks for trying to teach me to play pool."
Dean grinned. "We'll tackle poker and darts when you wake up."
Dean did try to teach Alyson to play poker after she'd woken up. She was awful at it. She couldn't bluff to save her life.
Nothing eventful happened while they were at the Roadhouse and Ash got done with the demon tracking thing more quickly than he'd said he would.
It was pretty early when Ash came out to the bar. Sam, Dean, and Alyson sat down with him and Ellen gave the three men a beer. When Ellen asked if Alyson wanted anything she shook her head.
Ash had a laptop with him. Its insides were on the outside. Alyson wasn't a computer expert by any means, but she was fairly certain she wasn't supposed to be seeing the inside of it.
"You got somethin' for us, Ash?" Dean asked.
"The demon is nowhere to be found. At least nowhere I can find. But if it raises its head, I'll know. I mean, any of these signs of omens appear anywhere in the world, my rig will go off like a fire alarm."
Ash turned the computer so they could see all the programs on the screen.
"Where'd you learn to do all this?" Alyson asked.
"M.I.T. before I got bounced for fighting."
"Oh. Nice."
"Okay," Dean said. "Give us a call as soon as you know something?"
"Si, si, compadre."
Dean smiled – a little, anyway – and took a swig of beer before standing up and heading to the door.
Sam and Alyson followed.
Back at Bobby's, Dean began working on the car again. He swore he wasn't going to fall into his old routine again. He just really needed Baby fixed because he definitely wasn't going to drive around in the van Bobby had let them borrow.
Alyson had gone to her room almost as soon as they'd gotten back. Dean assumed she'd been going to take a nap. Her days and nights were so messed up, but, as a hunter, one had to sleep when he or she had a chance. When Dean had roomed with her alone when they'd stayed at Missouri's he'd kept the light on for her, but when they all shared a room Alyson let them keep the light off. Only when she couldn't keep her eyes from closing would she be able to go to sleep in the dark.
Dean had been working on the car for a few hours when Sam came outside and began pacing. Dean didn't say anything. He knew Sam would say what was on his mind eventually without any prompting.
And eventually he did.
"You were right," Sam said softly.
"About what?"
"About me and dad."
Dean stopped working and turned so he could listen. He was fine with Sam talking about himself and Dad – Dean just didn't want to talk about his feelings.
"I'm sorry that the last time I was with him I tried to pick a fight with him. I'm sorry that I spent most of my life angry at him. I mean, for all I know he died thinking that I hate him. So . . . you're right. What I'm doing right now is too little. It's too late."
Dean watched as Sam's lips began to tremble. He hated himself for placing those thoughts in Sam's head. Sam had probably had those thoughts already, in all honesty, but Dean had given voice to them.
"I miss him, Dean. And I feel so guilty, and I'm not all right. But neither are you. That much I know."
Tears were in Sam's eyes but they didn't fall over. Dean felt the need to comfort his little brother, but he didn't know how when he couldn't even make himself feel better.
"I'm gonna let you get back to work."
Sam left and Dean stood still and watched as Sam went back into Bobby's house.
Anger coursed through him suddenly and he picked up a crowbar and smashed the window of a nearby car. He didn't even really know who or what he was mad at. Himself, for hurting Sam; Sam for pushing and pushing; his dad for leaving him, dying on him, and for telling him something he couldn't share with anyone.
Before he knew it, he was slamming the crowbar into the trunk of his own car. He did it over and over and by then he knew who he was angry with, and who he was really trying to take his frustration out on.
His dad.
Alyson woke up to a repetitive banging sound. She didn't know what it was, but it was coming from outside. She got up and went to the one window in her room. She pulled the dark curtains back in search of the sound. What she saw shocked her. Dean was out in the yard beating the car he'd been working so hard to fix up. What was he doing? He loved that car.
Without a second's hesitation she rushed out of her room and flew down the stairs. Sam was at the backdoor sadly watching Dean. She passed by him, but he grabbed her arm, almost jerking her to a stop.
"Maybe you shouldn't," Sam said, and Alyson knew he was concerned that maybe Dean would accidentally hit her if she snuck up on him.
"He won't hurt me." She was fairly certain of that fact. Plus, she wasn't going to sneak up on him at all.
Sam reluctantly let go of her arm. "Don't push him, though, okay?"
She walked out the door and locked her eyes on Dean, who was no longer hitting his car. He was staring straight at her, but she didn't actually think he was looking at her. Alyson understood then that Dean's emotions had finally caught up to him. He had finally broken.
She made her way to him.
"Dean?" she said as she closed the distance between them.
Dean was trying to keep from crying. She didn't know what to do with a crying Dean. She wasn't good at comforting people, anyway, but definitely not someone like Dean, who was usually so strong.
Dean grabbed her arms so tightly it almost hurt. It seemed that he thought she might go away if he were to let her go. She could feel the pain coming off of him in waves. His breaths started coming in gasps and, for the life of her, she had no idea how to help him. Dean collapsed to the ground and took Alyson with him. She saw the tears before they fell down Dean's face. She would've reached up to cup his face if her hands had been free, but they were trapped between her body and Dean's.
Dean was now shaking, not letting out the sobs that needed to be released. He let her arms go but didn't push her away. He wrapped his arms around her securely, and his head found the crook of her neck. The wetness from his tears hit her skin.
"It's my fault," Dean whispered.
"What're you talkin' about?"
"He's dead and it's my fault."
"Why would you think that?" she asked as she wrapped her arms around him.
Why was he blaming himself for John's death? There was no way he had anything to do with it. He'd been in a hospital bed when John had died.
"Things like that don't just happen. People that are dying don't just wake up for no reason."
"Oh, Dean . . ." She began rubbing circles on his back. "Good things do happen. You being alive is a good thing."
Before she'd met Dean, Alyson had never understood empathizing with people, but now she was hurting because he was hurting. Her heart hurt because of the pain he was in. She wanted to take it all away, but she knew there was only so much she could do.
The best thing she could do was be there for him.
Dean allowed Alyson to help him stand up and lead him to the house. He would've hated himself for being weak if he had been able to care at that point.
Dean was glad Sam was nowhere in sight when they went through the back door. It was rough getting upstairs because Dean was still holding onto Alyson and the stairs were slightly narrower than normal stairs, but they eventually made it to his room.
Alyson helped Dean to the bed in the far right corner of the room. He sat down and Alyson brushed a hand over his cheek before turning to walk back out.
"Where're you going?" he asked and grabbed her hand.
"I'll be right back," she said. "I'm gonna get a wet washcloth for your face. It might make you feel a little better."
"But you're coming back?"
"I'm not leaving you, Dean. I promise I'll be right back. Then I won't leave unless you ask me to."
Dean squeezed her hand before letting go.
"Hurry back."
She nodded, walked out, and shut the door behind her. At least there would be no chance of Bobby or Sam walking by and seeing him in the state he was in.
Alyson couldn't have been gone for more than two minutes, but it felt like much longer. During those two minutes, Dean decided he could be selfish for an hour or two and he could accept what Alyson was offering. She liked taking care of people and he needed taking care of at the moment.
"See, I told you I'd be back," she said as she came in and shut the door.
Alyson washed his face with the washcloth she'd gone to get and he had to admit that the coolness felt amazing against his overheated skin and his tear-swollen eyes.
After she was done she tossed the rag onto the dresser and then sat beside him on the bed.
"You okay?" she asked quietly and began rubbing the back of his neck.
"I'm tired."
"Oh. Is that my cue to leave or –"
"No. Stay," he interrupted. He didn't want to be alone, but he didn't want Sam's or Bobby's company either.
"Um . . . Do you wanna change? Your clothes are kinda dirty."
To be honest, he hadn't noticed the dirt. At the moment, he didn't care. He probably should've chosen to change, but that would've meant Alyson would leave because she wouldn't have stayed if he took his clothes off.
"I'm too tired," he said.
He scooted to the top of the bed to lay down on his back. Alyson followed him, only she flipped onto her side and propped her head up on her hand. Dean hesitantly flipped onto his side, too, and faced her.
Neither said a thing, but Dean did bring his hand up to hold onto her free one. As he began playing with Alyson's fingers he thought about how they were pushing the friendship boundaries about as far as they could comfortably go.
As he caressed her palm she gasped and grabbed onto his hand. Apparently she was ticklish there.
Settling for intertwining their fingers, Dean let his head rest on the pillow and he closed his eyes. After a few minutes, he felt Alyson relax and move a little closer to him.
Their bodies weren't touching aside from their hands, and Dean was perfectly okay with that. If this was the start of something more than friendship between them, he didn't want to ruin it by going fast.
Alyson deserved more than that from him – from anyone, really – and also . . . she was so very young. She was obviously inexperienced in the guy department and she needed to be able to relish every new experience.
Dean knew if he'd made any move at all right then it would've been only to get rid of the pain for just a little while and no one should base a relationship on that.
Again, Alyson deserved more than that.
Okay, so as you can see, I totally skipped the case part of this episode. I didn't feel like the case meant much in the grand scheme of things, but I did pull the parts that would help move the story along. That's pretty much how I'm going about it this time around because I don't feel like writing EVERY episode when there are so many stand alones that don't really move the story along at all.
I don't really have a favorite part of this chapter - I feel like all of it fits right - but it I had to pick it would probably either be the pool table scene or the last part where Alyson is comforting Dean and he's LETTING her!
As always, let me know what you think! And thanks for the follows and favorites!
