Bobby sat down in the worn recliner behind his desk. The cup of coffee in his hand was steaming as he made it a whole lot more Irish and flipped on the news.
The fire department was called to the scene of an apartment fire overnight. The cause has been identified as an electrical malfunction. There were no casualties and the developer plans to rebuild. The mayor has set up a program to help displaced residents find new homes.
In sports, the South Dakota State Jackrabbits and the University of South Dakota Coyotes met each other last night in football action. The Jackrabbits came just shy of winning in overtime with a score of 36-33.
Finally, in local news. An abandoned truck found at the old spillway leads authorities on a possible missing person case. The truck was found sitting next to some type of hand-built stick pile. "I took a new route on my morning run and it was just sitting there in the clearing. At first, I was going to ignore it, but it looked like it had been there a while so I called 911." The truck is registered to a Susan Smith of Sioux Falls but no one has come to claim the vehicle leading authorities to believe that the vehicle was stolen or that this may be a missing person's case. If you have any information about the vehicle or a possible driver, please call Sheriff Jody Mills at 605-367-7212.
Bobby had been flipping through a leather-bound journal but his head popped up when he heard the name, Susan Smith. That was the alias that Danae had used when she got the plates for her truck. Sure enough, the image on the screen showed the old Chevy Silverado sitting by the spillway. There was a lot of grass grown up underneath and around it, it had been there for a while. The stick pile was unmistakably a burial pyre for a hunter. He had built enough himself to recognize it.
He stood up and went to change into his Fed suit. Then it was off to the spillway.
His first thought was to contact the boys. Dean had sure as hell called him enough asking whether he had heard from Danae recently, always hearing that no he had not. He decided to hold off on involving Winchesters until he was sure what was going on.
When he arrived at the spillway, there was a single police vehicle. The reporters had long since left and a lone tow truck was backing up to the truck.
He walked up to the cruiser and flashed his badge.
"Randall Walker, South Dakota State Police," he introduced himself.
The local officer glared against the sunlight framing the perceived intruder.
"State police? This seems like a local thing…" he started.
"Look here, Officer… Thomas, I go where I am sent. So what do we know so far?" Bobby questioned the cop and hoping that he wouldn't be recognized.
The officer told him what little they knew and he walked over to the truck to have a look before the tow operator pulled it up onto the trailer.
He looked in the glove compartment which was completely empty except for the user's manual for a 1994 Chevy Silverado. There were no clothes, no pictures. The only thing he found were three yellowed envelopes that had fallen underneath the front seat.
Bobby. Sam. Dean.
"What the hell is going on, Danae?" he asked himself.
"Look, buddy, I need to get this to the impound. I ain't got all day," the towman said and Bobby left the vehicle tucking the envelopes into his jacket pocket.
Bobby drove back to the house, the envelopes feeling like they weighed a ton still sitting in the jacket pocket at his breast. He had an uneasy feeling, wondering what fool thing the girl had gotten herself into and wracking his brain for anything she might have said the last time they spoke to each other.
He couldn't think of anything even as he pulled into the driveway of his home.
After changing into his regular clothes, Bobby sat down heavily on the couch. He put Sam and Dean's letters to the side and slipped his thumb under the flap of his own envelope.
Bobby,
I am not sure how long it will be before you get this letter. I did a thing and I know that you are probably going to hate me for it. I am sorry. You have been like a father to me for all of these years. And I appreciate everything you have ever done. When you told me what Dean had done, my heart broke. I know that you think that I shouldn't feel about him like I do, but I can't help it. I love the man.
So I went to the crossroads and I made a deal. Lillith gave me three days. When you all left for your job, I left to well… to go to Hell. I know you can see the remains of my pyre. I took care of it. You can't bring me back, and I am begging you: please don't try.
Keep them safe, Bobby. He doesn't even know that I know about his deal. Don't let them do anything stupid. I can imagine your face right now as I say that.
Thank you for everything. I love you. Love Danae.
Bobby attempted to dry the tears flowing from his eyes with his shirt. It had been a while since he had felt this way. Probably since the day that Dean told him about the deal in the first place. His chest hurt. He took deep heaving breaths trying to steady himself before he was finally calm enough to pull out his phone and dial a familiar number.
"Sam?"
"Yeah, okay, Bobby. I'll tell him," Sam breathed out trying to stay calm on the phone. His brother sat on the bed next to him with a raised eyebrow and a grimace waiting for Sam to spill.
"Dean, I need to tell you something but you have to stay calm," Sam started.
He told Dean everything that Bobby had told him and then that they needed to go to Sioux Falls. Dean paced the room, hands running through his hair in distress.
"So what she's been kidnapped?" he asked.
"I don't know the whole story, Bobby just said that they had found her truck and that we needed to get to his house as fast as possible," Sam said as he picked up his bag and stood.
"Well let's go then," Dean said storming towards the door. He reached for the keys on the small table but Sam beat him to them.
"Yeah, I'm driving," Sam said with a worried look at his brother. And to his surprise, Dean did not put up a fight.
During the trip, Sam glanced over at his brother every few minutes as they traveled in unfamiliar silence. Dean was nervous and seemed to be on a mission to chew down every trace of fingernail he had.
"She's going to be okay, Dean. We will get her back," he tried to reassure the man.
"Yeah. I don't think it's that simple this time Sammy. I got a real bad feeling about what we are about to walk into here," he said, replacing his head on the cold window.
They stopped twice. Once for gas and once to grab food which Dean, uncharacteristically, insisted they eat in the car so they could keep going.
It was the early hours of the morning when they pulled into Bobby's familiar drive. They could see Bobby sitting on the front porch waiting for them. He was visibly drunk and wobbly even in a sitting position.
"Bobby," Sam greeted him as they left the car.
"Boys…" he responded.
He stood and let them come inside the house knowing that delaying the inevitable any longer made no sense.
The boys sat on the couch and Bobby handed them each their letter.
Sam,
I can already imagine what you are thinking but I know that had Dean's deal been completed, you would have been the first person standing at the crossroads. Don't deny it. You take care of each other. I need to take care of you too. You have always been like a big brother to me and of the two of you, you know you are the more level-headed. Take care of him, Sammy. Don't let him do anything that could hurt him. I had no choice.
I can't come back. I made sure of that, so please don't try. I love you, Sam. Love, Danae.
Sam breathed out but didn't say a word, instead choosing to drink the whiskey Bobby had already poured out for him.
Dean, on the other hand, was reading intently. It was obvious that he read the letter more than once, trying to get some real understanding of it.
Dean,
You will probably hate me for this. I am sorry. When I found out what you had done, I had no choice. I have loved you since the first time I laid my eyes on you. As long as I have known you, you have been a hero. It didn't matter what could happen to you, you rushed in to save the day without a thought. Any idiot can see how much you love your brother and how responsible you feel for him. Of course, you had to save Sam.
The thing is, I don't think that you think you are worth saving. You are the most loving, selfless, and caring man I have ever met. I found out about you and I wanted you to be saved for once in your life.
I know you. You will try to find me, but I am gone. There is nothing left. Please don't try to bring me back. Instead, move on. Do what you do. Hunt things, save people. Find someone to love you, because you deserve it.
When I said that I love you, I meant it. I love you. Do this for me. Love, Danae.
Sam reached over to put a hand on his brother's shoulder but Dean ducked away from it and left the house.
A moment later, the sound of the Impala broke the silence. Sam jumped to go after his brother but Bobby reached out to him. His voice slightly slurring.
"Let him go, son," he said.
Danae's POV
"Danae," the voice whispered again. She lifted her tear-streaked face up and looked into the candy green eyes that held her heart.
"You're not real. This is a trick, get away from me," she said before hanging her head again.
"Sweetheart, I'm real. It's me. I want to rescue you," the Dean thing said to her.
"No, no, no…" she whimpered.
Just then she heard the torch come back to life and saw "Dean's" boots back up into the darkness.
"So sweet," Alistair crooned out. "Parting is such sweet sorrow, but we really shouldn't be wasting time. Don't worry- he isn't going anywhere."
The flame inched towards her exposed shoulder blades, the heat filling her with terror. When it finally made contact, she lunged forward harshly attempting to get away but she could not. Her flesh shot open and she screamed out.
Over and over, in a thousand different patterns, Alistair laid the flame into her skin. He flayed her. Whenever she thought there was no more flesh to reach, he found another new patch of skin and pressed the torch to it.
It went on and on. Then came the water, the healing touch, the itch, and the dread. Alistair rolled his cart out of the room leaving only Danae and the intruder in the room.
"Dean" walked over to Danae. He ran his hands over her still wet cheeks.
"Shhh, shhh," he whispered. "It's okay, I'm here," he said as he petted her.
Danae couldn't move. Alistair usually left her alone for a while, but this was a constant onslaught of torture. Dean didn't leave. He stood there softly cooing to her, soothing her, telling her it would all be alright. She couldn't shut her eyes against the torment, she couldn't fall unconscious. There was no relief as the thing laid tiny kisses along her jawline and her neck.
She cried and begged for the thing to go away. It ignored her and continued his work.
He started talking about hunts they had gone on, inside jokes, memories- and finally, he recounted that last night together.
Her heart broke. Alistair had finally broken her. All of these years of pain and torture, all the times she said no and now she was closer than ever to finally saying yes.
"Danae, if you say yes we can be together. I will stay with you for everything. It will be us against the world. No more pain," it whispered in her ear.
She began to live in her hallucination. Maybe this was real. Maybe, even if it wasn't real, it would be okay to let go. She could have this Dean and know that she had saved the real one.
Dean drove up and down the streets of Sioux Falls, carefully avoiding the place where he really wanted to go- the spillway.
But the sun was setting and he knew that if he wanted to fully check out the scene, his headlights would not be enough light. So he turned down the familiar dirt path and drove the few miles down to the clearing and the water.
He parked the Impala and got out. The burial pyre stood untouched but the truck had been moved and the only evidence it was there was the rectangular patch of unchecked grass left behind.
He walked around the pyre and could just barely smell the remnants of a good thorough soaking with gasoline. Near the edge, he found a box of weather soaked and flattened matches and a small gas can wedged underneath. He rolled his eyes and the skill of the local police in gathering evidence.
It was obvious that someone intended on burning a body here but it had never happened or it had been stopped as just the outermost sticks had any char on them.
He found no other evidence that someone had been there. He could feel the tears on his eyes. She sold her fucking soul for him. He wanted to be angry and scream, but hadn't he done the same thing for Sam?
Alone he was able to allow his emotions to come out. He could openly cry.
He found himself on his knees, clutching his chest desperately. One more person for whom he was responsible for was gone. Then he found himself doing something he hadn't done in years.
He clasped his hands together and bowed his head. His green eyes squeezed shut hard and he took in a ragged, tear-laden breath.
"God, I don't even know if you are real- but everything else is so why the Hell wouldn't you be? Look, I don't know what to do here. I need you to help me. I wouldn't ask, you know that. But she doesn't deserve this. Please, give me a sign or something," he begged.
He heard nothing but the rush of water over concrete boundaries and the approaching song of crickets and frogs.
"Damn you, you son-of-a-bitch. What more do we have to give up!? What do you want from us?" he continued.
He stood up and dusted off his jeans, wiping his face with the sleeve of his jacket. He looked up to the star-filled sky and frowned. The noises continued but there was no answer, no mystical sign. He knew that his words had fallen on deaf- or imaginary- ears.
The natural sounds only increased. It became so loud that he didn't hear the almost imperceptible sound of wings
A/N: Hello all. I am sorry it took so long to update. RL has been giving me fits. I hope to add more to this story soon. Thank you to all of my readers and especially to those who reviewed. You guys are my rock stars!