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Hope you enjoy this chapter!
Goodbye Is Never Forever
Chapter Four: Avoiding The Problem
Lawrence, Kansas — Home — 01:19PM.
Sam heaved a sigh as he headed up the path to his home. It had been a long trip back, and he was more than ready to just collapse onto his bed. A smile came to his face as he opened the door, he had only been away at college for the weekend, but he already realised, there really was no place like home. He closed the front door behind himself and dropped his bag carelessly to the floor beside him. He glanced into the living room as he passed, and he frowned when he saw that there was nobody there. It was unusual for the house to be so quiet. He wasn't even sure that anybody was home. Yet, if that was the case, why had the door been unlocked?
"Hello?" he called as he headed towards the kitchen, but he received no response. "Anyone home?"
"Well, well, well," A deep voice sounded from behind him, and it stopped Sam dead in his tracks. "College boy returns."
Sam turned around so fast that he almost lost his balance. His eyes were wide, unblinking, and his mouth was hanging open. "Dean." He opened and closed his mouth a few times, searching for the words that his brain just couldn't seem to string together, as though it couldn't process the sight before him. He frowned, and Dean could see him trying to work out what was happening. "What are you doing here? I mean, oh my god. Why didn't you say you were coming home?"
Dean chuckled to himself, offering a half-hearted shrug. "Imagine the surprise on your face." He smiled at him, really smiled, and stepped forwards. "C'mere, little brother." He rested his hands to Sam's shoulders for a moment before he pulled him into a tight hug.
It took a moment for the initial shock to wear off, for Sam to realise what was actually happening, but he brought his arms up to hug his brother back, just as tightly. It felt like a lifetime since he had seen him, since the last time they had stood there and said their goodbyes to each other. Back when Dean had told him he would be home before he knew it, he had been wrong, it seemed another world ago. Dean's grip on him was strong, crushing, and Sam matched it easily. It reminded Sam of when they were kids, when they were small enough that Sam would have to stand on his tip-toes to hug his brother, when he would get upset or scared and he would cling to Dean like his life depended upon it. Having him there again, after so long, it didn't seem real. They stood there for a long moment, neither saying a word, simply taking in each other's company.
Sam and Dean had been close from the beginning, as brothers they had always had each other's backs, through anything. They would side with each other, no matter what. The same as they would with their sister. The three of them had always been an unbeatable team. Besides being siblings, the three of them were the best of friends, and nothing could come between them. Sam had always known that. He had always known that Dean going away wouldn't change anything between them, and there, in that moment, he knew that he had been right.
Sam had missed his brother like hell while he had been gone. Despite the phone calls, something about it just hadn't been the same. Dean's jokes didn't have the same impact over the phone, the sarcastic comments he gave just weren't the same when he couldn't see his brother rolling his eyes at him. The advice he offered him about college just wasn't the same when he wasn't really there to have a beer with him. But now, there he was, and it was as though everything had just fallen right back into place.
Dean was the first of them to pull back, but his hands remained firmly on his younger brother's shoulders, and he realised just how much he seemed to be looking up at him. "Did you get taller while I was away?" he asked, frowning a little. "You gotta stop with the growing man," he quipped. "You know I ain't gonna catch up with you now."
Sam laughed, really laughed, and nodded. "Man, it's good to see you."
"Yeah," Dean agreed, and the grin didn't falter from his face. "You, too, Sammy."
And, just that once, Sam didn't say a word about his brother calling him Sammy. At that point, he didn't care. It felt like home again.
"Come on," Dean pressed. "Let's have a beer."
Sam nodded and followed his brother towards the kitchen. He took a seat at the counter and watched as he pulled a couple of bottles from the refrigerator. Everything he did just seemed so normal, as though he had never been away in the first place. It was all just routine, like nothing had changed, as though they had done the same thing just yesterday.
"How long have you been back?" he asked, curious.
Dean handed him one of the beers and took a seat on the chair beside his. "Couple days."
Sam raised an eyebrow. There was only one thought on his mind at that point. "Has Alison seen you?"
"Yeah," Dean smiled. "Yeah, she's seen me."
It was at that thought he seemed to realise that she wasn't there. Normally, when Dean was home, there wasn't one of them without the other. They did everything together. Dean and Alison were, and always had been, each other's best friend. "Where is Alison? She working?"
"Uh, yeah." Dean cleared his throat, his attention fixed solely on the bottle in his hands, that was a conversation he didn't really want to get into. He was already pissed at himself over what had happened between them that morning, he sure as hell didn't want to have to explain to his brother why he had barged into her work accusing her of what he had. "She's working."
Sam nodded, nonchalant, as though there was nothing out of the ordinary about it. To him, there wasn't. "You know she had this whole welcome home party planned for you, right?" he said, a smirk on his face. "Beer pong and everything. Dad was sure he was going to get mom to play."
"Yeah, so I heard." Dean chuckled. "Still regretting not calling ahead for that one."
Sam snickered to himself at the thought. He looked up at him carefully, as though studying him. "So, what was it like over there?" he asked, his voice dramatically lower than it had been. He was suddenly so serious in his words. "I mean, I know you always said it was fine on the phone, but, really? What was it like?"
Dean shrugged. "It's alright." he muttered. "Look, let's not talk about that. How's college looking, huh? I mean, full ride to Stanford? You're such a nerd, man."
Sam smiled. "Yeah, it's looking good so far. Ask me again in a couple weeks when I start." he joked.
But Dean could see the happiness in his face at the thought. "I'm proud of you, Sammy." he said, sincere. "Really."
"Thanks, Dean."
Dean smiled and took a drink of his beer and looked over his brother carefully. Despite how happy he was to see his little brother again, there was still something plaguing his mind. If there was anyone he could ask, it was him. He couldn't ask his parents, and he sure as hell wasn't going to try asking his sister again. Sam was his best shot at getting some real answers. He cleared his throat, slightly hesitant on how to approach the situation, and focused on the beer bottle in his left hand. "So," he began, and he noticed out of the corner of his eye how Sam immediately turned his attention to him. "I wanted to ask you something."
Sam raised his eyebrows. His brother suddenly looked so uncomfortable. "What's up?"
"How's Alison doing?" he asked, his voice serious, giving away that he was no longer joking around. "Really?"
The question seemed to take Sam by surprise. He clearly hadn't been expecting it. But he could see the worry in his brother's face, it was something about him that clearly hadn't changed in his absence. "What makes you ask that?"
Dean shrugged. "I don't know." he admitted. "Something about her just seems so...different. I mean, I know I've been gone a while, and I know she's grown up, but...I don't know...even Mom seems worried about her. What's with her suddenly wanting to go to college? Doesn't that strike you as weird?"
"For Ali?" Sam scoffed. "Course it did. But," He shrugged. "If it's what she wants, I hope she gets there. I think it'd be good for her."
"Hm." Dean took another drink of his beer, unsure as to whether he really wanted to ask his next question. It was going to be a touchy subject, and if Sam really was as in the dark with it all as he appeared, there was a chance it wouldn't go down well. "What about that bruise on her arm?" he pressed. "How did she get that?"
"What, she didn't tell you?" Sam huffed a laugh, as though he found the situation amusing. "She fell down the stairs."
Dean frowned at that, he had to wonder why everyone seemed to be taking that as such a believable explanation. "Were you with her? When she fell?"
Sam shook his head. "No, she was home alone. She'd just come back from Minnesota, I think. She was up at a college weekend there."
"Huh." Dean thought on that for a moment, and he glanced over his shoulders towards the stairs. They were carpeted, there was nothing hard around for her to bang her arm like that. It didn't add up. "Pretty nasty bruise for falling down the stairs, don't you think?"
Sam placed his beer down and looked up at him, eyes narrowed the slightest bit in suspicion. "What are you saying?" he pushed. "You think she's lying or something?"
Dean shrugged, nonchalant. "You tell me."
Sam regarded his brother for a long moment. He wasn't sure what he was trying to say, and he wasn't all that sure he really wanted to know what was going on in Dean's head. "I think you haven't seen her for fifteen months." he stated simply. "And I think you're finding things to worry about that you don't need to worry about. You know what Alison's like, she's always been clumsy."
"Yeah, tripping over chairs, dropping plates, forgetting to pay for parking, not falling face first down flights of stairs." he countered, a little more forcefully than he had intended. "That isn't like her, Sam, and you know it."
"Hey, these things happen, Dean." he said calmly. "I've been to those college weekends myself, knowing what goes on there, and knowing Ali, she was probably hungover."
Dean sighed, defeated. His brother didn't know anything. He was starting to think that he was the only one who had noticed how strange her behaviour seemed. Maybe it was because he had been away for so long, he noticed the things that had changed. Or maybe it was the fact that he knew his sister better than anyone else in the world knew her. He wasn't sure. But he wasn't backing down. He was determined to find out what was going on with her, and where she was really sneaking off to behind her family's backs.
But, he wasn't about to drag their brother into it. And so he caved. "Yeah," he feigned agreement. "Maybe you're right."
Sam nodded, and he looked a little relieved. "Alison's fine, Dean. Really." He smiled. "You don't need to worry about her."
Dean forced a smile, but he was anything but convinced.
08:32PM.
Dean glanced back over his shoulder as the front door opened. He heard the sound of someone entering the house and dropping their bag down to the floor. He raised his eyebrows at his sister as she entered the living room, as though expecting her to say something. Her eyes found his for a brief moment, but she quickly looked away. Right there, he could tell, she had no intention of continuing their conversation from that morning.
"Hey, honey." Mary smiled up at her, not seeming to notice. "How was work?"
"Uh, it was alright." Alison answered, her voice quiet, as she pulled of her jacket, and Dean noticed how she seemed to look anywhere but him.
"Is that blood?" Sam asked, noting the stain on the front of her pale blue scrubs.
Alison glanced down, it was as though she had forgotten that it was even there. "Oh, uh, yeah." she muttered. "One of our residents had a fall this morning, cut their head open. They're alright." She shot a pointed look at Dean, and he just knew that was what she had gone running off to while he had been there. This time it was him who looked away, because he did regret what he had done. He knew it hadn't been fair to show up at her work the way he had. He had acted on nothing but impulse, thinking that something was wrong. He knew he should have waited until she had gotten home. "I'm gonna take a shower."
Mary frowned a little, it wasn't like her. Usually, she would come home from work with a smile on her face, more than willing to tell them about her day. Something seemed off. But she could tell, she didn't want to talk. It was as though she simply didn't want to be in the room, like she wanted to be alone, and so she nodded. "Okay." she said, putting her behaviour down to her simply having a bad day. "When are you working again?"
Alison looked down. "Tomorrow, actually."
"Tomorrow?" Mary frowned, and Dean raised an eyebrow at her, smirk on his face. "I thought you were off tomorrow?"
"Yeah, I was." she muttered. "I picked up a shift for someone, they needed it off."
"Alison," Mary sighed. "Your brother only just came home, and now that Sam's home, too, I thought you'd want to spend some time with them."
"I do." But Dean could see now, she really was avoiding looking at him.
"Anyone would think you were trying to avoid me." Dean commented, and there was a knowing look on his face that only she saw.
Alison forced a laugh, more for the sake of their mother than anything else, because, he could tell, she was anything but amused with him at that point. Showing up at her work the way he had done, he'd quickly realised, probably wasn't the best idea he'd ever had, but, at that point, he didn't really care. He was more concerned with what his sister was so desperate to keep to herself, what she was working so hard to hide from them all. It wasn't like her, it was suspicious, and he wanted some answers.
"Funny, Dean." she muttered, throwing a glare this way. "I'll be upstairs."
Sam and Dean shared a look, and there was something about Dean's face that Sam just knew meant he was concerned. He just didn't understand why. What was there to be concerned about? Alison hadn't changed, not that he could see, she was exactly the same person she had been the day that Dean had gone away. So what was it that he was so wrapped up in? Why was he so adamant that something was going on with her? Unless, it was something that he just couldn't see himself. He tried and tried to think of what it could be, but nothing came to mind.
"Looks like it's just the four of us tomorrow." Mary commented, a little disappointment in her words.
Sam thought for a moment, maybe he was onto something. It was strange for her to pick up an extra shift right as Dean had come home. Normally the two of them were pretty much joined at the hip, they did everything together. He couldn't imagine why, when her brother had only been home a day after fifteen months, she would want to be at work. He'd noticed then how she seemed to avoid looking at her eldest brother with everything she had in her, how she seemed so desperate to get out of the same room as him, how there had seemed to be some kind of tension between them.
It was at that thought he knew he had to find out for himself. "Hey, I'll, uh, be right back." he muttered, offering his mom and brother a smile before he headed out of the room.
Alison sighed as she wiped the last of the make up from her face, looking at herself in the mirror. She shook her head slowly and traced her fingertips over the fading bruise around her left eye. It wasn't dark, and no one had noticed it. She tossed the wipe to the trash and rested her head against her palms for a moment. She didn't know what to do. A part of her didn't even dare leave the room, because she just knew that Dean was waiting for her. He wouldn't quit, not until he was satisfied, and she didn't have any answers or explanation to offer him. She couldn't risk him saying something in front of their mom or dad, or Sam.
"Dean's worried about you." A voice said from behind her, and she jumped at the sound. She lifted her head and looked through the mirror, seeing the reflection of Sam standing in the doorway of her bedroom. He leaned casually against the frame, eyebrows raised. She turned in her seat to face him, and he stepped inside, closing the door softly behind himself, his eyes fixed on the bruise marking her arm. "He doesn't believe you fell down the stairs."
Alison shrugged, nonchalant. "Well, you know what Dean's like," she said lightly. "Worries about anything."
Sam regarded her for a moment, and she noticed how he narrowed his eyes. "What's that?" he pressed. "Have you got a black eye?"
"What?" Alison frowned, as though confused, and shook her head. She looked over her shoulder to the mirror behind her and chuckled. "It's just make up, Sam. You kinda caught me halfway through taking it off."
"Oh." He nodded slowly, seeming to believe her. "About Dean," he continued. "He's got a point, you know. It's a pretty big bruise for falling down those stairs, Ali." She raised her eyebrows at him, saying nothing, and Sam sighed. He moved to sit on the end of her bed, facing her. "Look, I'm not trying to start anything, just, if something had happened to you, I'm not saying it has, but on the chance, you would tell us, right?"
"Yeah," She nodded, but he didn't miss how she refused to look him in the face as she spoke. "Course I would."
Sam didn't look at all convinced, but he gave a slow nod, as if to say he'd take it. "Alright," He smiled at her. "As long as you're okay." He wasn't as persistent as his brother. If Alison said nothing had happened, he wouldn't fight an explanation from her. He would leave her to admit it in her own time. And, right there, she was more than grateful to know he wasn't going to stand there and demand a better answer.
"I'm fine, Sam, really." She smiled at him. "Listen, I'm gonna go to bed. Long shift, you know?"
Sam nodded again. "Okay." He stood from the bed and headed towards the door, pausing before he opened it. "Night, Ali."
Alison gave a half-hearted wave as he left. "Night, Sammy." she said down as the door closed, shaking her head to herself.
How had it gotten to this? How had it gotten to lying to both of her brothers, right to their faces? How had it come to the point that she was literally hiding in her bedroom to avoid talking to her own family? It was something that she had never done before, and the lies seemed to be sinking deeper and deeper each day that went by.
Alison closed her eyes as she heard the door once again open behind her. She knew that it had to be Dean, because he was the only one of them who didn't bother to knock before he barged inside. It was a habit he had never broken out of, no matter how much she fought him on it. She didn't turn around, simply sat with her back to him, and sighed. She wasn't in the mood. Truthfully, she didn't have the energy. "What is it, Dean?"
The door closed again, forcefully enough to make her jump a little. "I told you we weren't finished, Alison." he said, his voice hard. He wasn't messing around this time. Almost hesitant, she stood from her seat and turned to look at him, leaning back against the dressing table, arms folded. "You know, you can pick up as many shifts as you want, you can't avoid talking to me forever."
Alison frowned, shaking her head slowly. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yes, you do." he countered. "I'm not an idiot, Ali. You think you work twelve hours everyday we're never gonna finish that conversation we started this morning? Well, you're wrong. You still have to come home at the end of the day."
"Oh," Alison nodded, laughing to herself. "You mean that conversation you started when you barged into my work and tried to start a fight with me? That conversation?"
Dean scoffed at her. "Don't turn this on me. What's going on?" he pushed, and it was then that he seemed to notice something else. "And what the hell has happened to your face?" He stepped closer, to the point there was barely any space between them, and he looked more pissed than ever. "Is that a black eye?"
Alison pushed past him, shaking her head. "It's just make up." she muttered. "I'm trying to get ready for bed, what do you want?"
Dean regarded her for a moment, looking torn between believing her and tossing her a face wipe to ask for proof. But he caved. That wasn't why he was there. One thing at a time. "What's the big secret, huh? I mean, what could be so bad that you can't tell me?"
"There is no secret." she snapped. "I don't know why you seem to think I'm lying about where I'm going, but I'm not."
It was then that Dean realised, he truly didn't recognise the girl he was talking to anymore. "You're lying to me now." he stated, and he almost sounded hurt at the idea. Alison never lied, about anything, and especially not to him. He had always been the one she turned to, when something was going on that she didn't want their parents to know, when she was in some kind of trouble, when she wanted to sneak out to a party, whether she wanted someone to back her up or just some advice, it was always him. And he had always been the same with her. But now, things seemed so different. The way they were there, the fighting and the distrust, it wasn't like them, at all. They had never been that way with each other before. He sighed, almost disheartened, and shrugged at her. "I thought we were closer than this, Ali. What is it? What, are you seeing some guy you don't want us to know about, is that it? I know I give you a hard time, but if that's what this is about, you really don't need to hide it."
Alison huffed a dry laugh, as though she couldn't believe what she was listening to. "No, Dean, I'm not seeing anyone."
"So, what?" he pressed, impatient. "Alison, please, just tell me." He paused, and she could see him seriously debating his next comment. "Don't make me ask Mom."
Her eyebrows rose at that. "What?"
"Look, kid, you're not really leaving me much of a choice here." He shrugged. "You're sneaking around somewhere, doing something that's clearly bad enough no one can know about it. Are you in some kind of trouble? Alison, if something is going on, you need to tell us."
Alison sighed, defeated, and threw up her arms. "I don't know what you want me to say. There really is nothing going on, I'm telling you the truth. Would you like me to make something up just to make you happy?" Dean said nothing, simply stared at her, as if expecting more. "Look, please, it's been a long day, I just wanna go to bed. I've gotta work in the morning."
Dean looked down for a moment, thinking over her words carefully. He didn't know what else he could say. He couldn't fight a confession out of her. Not there, not then, not with their parents in the house. He wasn't going to start yelling at her, because, despite what he said, he was in no way prepared to explain to their mother what she was doing. Not yet. "Okay," He gave in. "Fine. I can't make you tell me. But don't think that this is over. Because it isn't."
And, with that, Dean turned and left the room, closing the door sharply after himself.
Alison sighed and dropped back to sit on her bed, her head rested against her palms. She couldn't believe how out of control things were getting. It had all started off as a little white lie, no one was getting hurt, no one was asking questions, there was nothing to be suspicious about. But now, Dean was home, and Dean was the one person who always seemed to know when she was lying. She wasn't sure how he had worked it out, but he had. He knew. He could see right through her. And now she was lying to his face, that was a place she never thought she would be. He was more than convinced that something was going on with her, he knew that she was lying about where she was going, he had it in his head that she was doing something she shouldn't be doing. And, she knew, he wasn't going to rest until he knew exactly what it was.
What was she supposed to do? Realistically, she was busted. And she knew it.
There was no getting away with anything behind Dean's back. He wouldn't stop until he found out.
And, when he did, she really was screwed.
