Let it Go
Chapter 4
Disclaimer: See chapter 1
A/N: One more chapter after this one... One of my friends who has been reading this one as I was writing it called it a wall-to-wall angst-fest. That's probably true, LOL. It's not an easy thing to fight inner demons and there are a lot of them between Kristine and the Winchesters. Thanks to everyone who has read to this point and to those who have taken the time to review.
oooOOOooo
Fear is a habit; so is self-pity, defeat, anxiety, despair, hopelessness and resignation. You can eliminate all of these negative habits with two simple resolves: I can!! and I will – Anonymous
oooOOOooo
When Dean woke up, he knew he was alone in the king-sized bed. He glanced at his watch and was surprised to find it was nearly 5:30. He wanted to make sure Kristine was all right, but at the same time, he wasn't ready to see her. Intellectually he knew she wouldn't judge him, but he had never laid out his heart like he did earlier to anyone other than Sam. He needed time to think and he wanted to talk to his brother.
After coming back from the bathroom, Dean looked for his cell phone. At first he thought he'd left it downstairs, but was relieved to find it charging on the dresser. He didn't remember plugging it in and assumed Kristine had done it for him. He sat on the side of the bed and dialed his brother's number. It wasn't so much that he wanted to talk to Sam, but he really needed to hear his voice. He would have been happy with voice mail, but after a few rings, he answered.
"Hey, Dean."
Dean could hear voices in the background and his brother sounded like he was having a good time. "Am I interrupting something?"
"Of course not; hold on a second."
He waited and a moment later the background noise was gone.
"I'm still at the pizza place," he heard Sam say. "How are things there?"
Dean wanted to lie. He wanted to tell Sam that everything was all right, but he couldn't make his mouth form the words. In fact, it was hard to say anything at all.
"Dean? Are you still there?"
His brother's voice sounded so far away. Dean didn't want him to think the signal had been lost, but all he could manage to do was clear his throat. He wished he'd never made the call.
"Dean?"
"I'm here," he forced himself to say. "Look, I'll let you get back to your party –"
"Hey, wait," Sam said quickly. "Is something wrong?"
"Look, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have called; I --"
"Don't hang up! Tell me what's going on."
The last thing Dean wanted was for Sam to worry about him, but he was having trouble forming coherent thoughts, let alone complete sentences. He should have waited to call, but he just needed Sam so much right now. It never occurred to him how much of his strength actually came from the unconditional love he got from his brother.
"Are you still at Kristine's?"
"Yeah."
"Did you guys have a fight or something?"
"No. Look, Sam, I don't really want to get into it. I don't know why I called; don't worry, okay?"
"Dean, hey, come on. What happened?" Sam's voice was gentle.
He sighed and rested his head in his free hand. "We had a really intense conversation and I told her – well, I told her a lot of things I kind of wish I hadn't."
"Oh," Sam hesitated. "What things?"
Dean was definitely not in the mood to recap what he'd said to Kristine. Saying those things once was more than enough. Sam continued, as if he'd read his brother's thoughts.
"It doesn't matter. She cares about you, man. And since she already knows about what you do, I doubt you scared her off."
"Yeah," Dean agreed quietly.
"How long ago was this conversation?"
"A couple hours. I fell asleep –"
"Go find her, Dean."
"So things are okay there?"
"Yeah. Thanks for earlier."
"What are brothers for?"
"Exactly," Sam agreed. "Even younger brothers."
"I know," Dean said, barely above a whisper.
"Call me later, okay?"
"Yeah, I will."
Dean still hesitated before going downstairs, but his curiosity was piqued when he realized he could smell something cooking. He was suddenly famished.
When he found Kristine, she was in the kitchen pulling plates and other dishes from the cabinets.
"Are you cooking?" he asked, surprised.
"Yeah, right. Like I had food here." She handed him the dishes and motioned toward the small table across the room. "I called Rachel at the inn and asked her to bring something over."
The bed and breakfast was another of the Ryan family holdings. Kristine wasn't involved in the day-to-day operations, but she had known the manager practically since birth. Rachel was the motherly type and always jumped at any opportunity to help Kristine.
"We have lasagna, garlic bread, salad." Kristine paused. "She even brought dessert. The woman is amazing."
"Did she leave anything for the guests to eat?" Dean joked.
Kristine laughed. "I hope so. Are you hungry?"
"Starving. I don't know the last time I ate."
"I'm just heating up the lasagna. It won't take long."
They set out the meal in a comfortable silence, then settled close together to eat. Kristine had selected some of Dean's favorite music for dinner entertainment and the CDs played quietly in the background. Neither wanted to bring up the intense conversation from earlier in the day, instead they talked about movies and other light topics. Dean mentioned his phone call to Sam, but left out the details.
After their meal, they cleaned up and got comfortable on the couch to watch a movie. Things seemed almost normal – Kristine wasn't suffering from a dark depression and Dean didn't have to worry about maybe having to kill his brother – they both let themselves enjoy a few hours of contentment.
Dean talked to Sam again later that night and was glad to hear his brother in such a good mood. He was also relieved when Sam didn't ask about his earlier call. Dean knew he had some decisions to make and things to figure out, but everything had been so calm for the last few hours that he allowed himself the rare luxury of not thinking about what was going to happen next. It seemed that he was always trying to strategize, to make sure all the bases were covered. For once, though, he just wanted to enjoy being free of responsibility and even went to bed with a smile on his face.
All of that was shattered when he woke up the next morning.
Kristine wasn't in bed next to him when he woke up. She wasn't in the kitchen setting out a meal brought to them by a well-meaning friend. He checked the rest of the rooms downstairs and, not finding her, he went back upstairs. He called her name, but got no response. Her car was still out back and his was in the driveway.
Thinking she might have gone to the main house, Dean finished dressing and headed out to the dirt road that led through the estate. He'd gone about halfway when he remembered the pond. Kristine liked to sit at the edge of the water and he felt that was where she must have gone. When he first saw her, he thought she looked peaceful, but when he got closer his heart froze.
She was sitting on a large, flat rock near the surface of the water. He legs were folded under her; she was staring straight ahead and there were fresh tears on her face.
"Kristine?" He approached her carefully, trying not to startle her.
"Hey."
"What are you doing out here?"
"Thinking."
He sat next to her on the rock. "Did you do anything to yourself?"
She didn't answer and when Dean glanced around, he saw that she had a lighter in one of her hands. She didn't fight when he took it from her.
"Kristine?"
"I called Travis earlier."
"Travis?"
"He's my supervisor at the clinic. I told him what was going on and asked him to help me find a place – I need help, Dean."
He cautiously put his arm around her and she leaned against him.
"What did Travis say?" Dean asked in a whisper.
"I told him I didn't want to go anywhere near here and he told me about a program he's familiar with in Colorado. He's going to call the director this morning and see if there's an opening for me." She continued a moment later. "I was in and out of hospitals when I was a teenager and I hated it. You'd think that would be enough to straighten me out."
"Don't do that. Don't berate yourself that way."
"I hate this. I don't want to be this way."
"I know that." Dean was still worried about what she might have done with the lighter, but he saw the look in her eyes and even though he didn't have any specific experience with self-mutilation, he knew he had to be careful. He understood pain and the last thing he wanted was to somehow push Kristine away. He kissed her hair gently. "It's going to be okay."
She rested her head on his shoulder and nodded. There had been times when Sam was hurting that Dean wanted to hug him, but that wasn't something guys did. Especially not guys like Dean…. But even though things were frightening with Kristine right now, he took a lot of comfort in just being able to hold her.
They sat quietly while Dean tried to figure out the best way to ask her about the lighter. Finally, he decided there was no easy way to go about it. "Why did you have the lighter?"
Kristine sighed and pulled up a sleeve of her sweatshirt revealing a nearly perfect circular burn. Dean wanted to react strongly, but instead he remained calm.
"We should get back to the house and get a dressing on that."
"I guess."
Dean stood up and gently pulled Kristine to her feet. He held her hand as they walked back to the house and she sat quietly while he took care of the burn. After putting away the supplies, he was about to suggest breakfast when the telephone started to ring. The cordless receiver was sitting on the couch where it had been left earlier and Kristine looked at the caller ID display. She locked with Dean's eyes as she answered the call. He sat on the coffee table in front of her.
"Hey, Travis."
Dean thought to give her some privacy, but she held his gaze. She picked up the pad of paper and a pen from the end table next to the couch and Dean watched as she made notes. He could only her end of the conversation and was surprised at how much better she sounded than only a few minutes ago on the path. He assumed it was an act for Travis' sake, but couldn't help but hope it was something else. Kristine assured her supervisor that she would make her own travel arrangements and that she would stay in touch.
Putting the phone and paper on the couch next to her, Kristine sighed. "There's an opening in Colorado if I can get there by Thursday. It's all set up; I just have to book a flight."
"Why don't I take you? I have to pick Sam up, anyway."
She seemed to consider her options. "Are you sure you want to be trapped with me in a car?"
"I don't want to leave you alone."
"Worried about me?" Kristine smiled sadly.
Dean leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, and smiled. "A little bit."
"I don't blame you," she sighed and then sat up straight. "We'll have to get on the road pretty soon unless you want to drive like a madman. I have some calls to make; things to take care of."
"What can I do?"
"I'm starving. Would you mind going to find us some food? I can call Rachel --"
He looked uncertain.
"I'll be okay while you're gone."
Dean didn't want to leave Kristine, but he also didn't want her to think he didn't trust her. Reluctantly he agreed.
oooOOOooo
Dean got into the Impala and headed toward town. It was a short drive that didn't give him long to think and, as he sat outside of the inn, he started feeling like he was completely inadequate to deal with the situation at hand. He didn't think he was doing a good job of empathizing with Kristine and was suddenly afraid of what might happen if he did something wrong while they were on the road. As he was working himself into a complete panic, his cell phone started to ring.
"Hello?" He answered without looking at it first.
"Hey."
"Sam? What time is it there?" Dean asked looking at his own watch. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, it's about 7:30. I was going to ask you the same thing. Are you all right?"
"Why wouldn't I be?" Dean asked, afraid his brother was going to say he'd had a vision.
"I woke up a few minutes ago and had a really weird feeling."
"What do you mean?"
"It happened before, but it isn't specific. Just a feeling that something's going on with you."
Dean closed his eyes and laid his head against the back of the seat.
"Are you okay?" Sam asked again.
"Yeah. More or less."
"What does that mean?"
Dean didn't like the dread he heard in his brother's voice and he sighed. "There's a lot going on here, Sam. It's not good."
"Tell me." He said it almost like he knew what was happening and had only been waiting for Dean to admit it to him. Dean suspected that his psychic abilities were still developing, but he hoped that reading minds wouldn't be something his brother learned to do.
"Kristine is sick. She's been hurting herself and…." Dean hesitated, but a moment later everything that had happened in the last couple of days flowed out of him like a giant wave. He couldn't stop himself and barely took the time to breathe as he spoke.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Sam asked gently when Dean was finally finished. "How are you handling it? Are you all right?"
"I don't know. Way too many intense conversations lately." He laughed weakly.
"So you're taking her to that place in Colorado?"
"Yeah," Dean whispered. "I can't just put her on a plane, man."
"I know. And you're not going to want to take off as soon as you get there so don't worry about getting here to pick me up."
"I'm not going to leave you stranded."
"I can take a bus; I'll meet you there."
"Are you sure?"
"It's fine, Dean. Really. Now talk to me about how you're doing."
The brothers stayed on the phone for several more minutes and when the call ended, Dean felt better. He spent a few minutes talking to Rachel when he went inside for the food and was relieved to see Kristine looking and sounding better when he got back to the cottage. He helped her with the preparations necessary for her to be gone for several weeks. She insisted on talking to Rachel and the estate staff on her own, but Dean was never too far away from her. Even when Travis stopped by later, Dean was close.
That evening they went to Asheville where they enjoyed dinner and a movie. Kristine showed him a park she liked to walk through and it was almost like a real date. They each put aside their problems for the night knowing they would be right back the next morning.
"I'm sorry about all this," Kristine said as she lay in Dean's arms that night.
"You don't have anything to apologize for."
"This isn't why you came."
"I'm glad I came, though."
"Me, too," she whispered into his chest. "So Sam's okay? You've still been talking to him, haven't you?"
"Yeah. I have a feeling he might be holding back a little, but he's already done the hard things he went there to do. He said something to me – God, I don't even know when it was. He was in the apartment and told me it had been a couple of days since I called him Sammy. I didn't realize it; I don't think I've called him that yet," Dean said thoughtfully. "And it bothered him. When I first saw him at Stanford, when we went looking for Dad, he wouldn't let me call him Sammy. He said that was a chubby 12-year old."
"He realized you call him Sammy because you love him."
Dean only grunted.
"So why do you think you haven't used the nickname?"
"I don't know. I don't use it consciously."
"Maybe you should; get back in the habit." She stroked his chest. "And maybe you should figure out why you stopped."
"Sam asked me if I thought it was pathetic that he needed me so much. The thing is, I always thought I needed him more than he needed me," Dean's eyes flitted around the room. He was grateful for the darkness so that Kristine couldn't really see him.
"I think the closeness you two have is beautiful. And I don't believe one needs more than the other. When Sam needs you, you're there. When you need him…. It's a wonderful partnership."
Dean nodded thoughtfully.
Rachel stopped by the next morning with a picnic basket full of food. She didn't know the extent of Kristine's problem, but she knew enough about it to understand it was serious. Providing the road food was all she could think to do. Kristine felt bad about leaving the estate, but the last of the hunters were gone and she had a back-up in case someone in trouble happened by. Feeling secure that she had done all she could, she slid into the Impala beside Dean and they headed toward Colorado.
Dean kept in touch with Sam and in between Kristine's darker moments, he could pretend they were on an innocent road trip.
It took Kristine a long time to get going on Thursday morning. Dean didn't rush her; she'd been in touch with the clinic and the counselor assigned to her case knew she was in town and made an appointment with her for that afternoon to check in.
Normally too restless to stay in bed after waking up, Dean was happy to lay with her and talk about nothing in particular. They had a leisurely breakfast together and walked around the hotel grounds. Kristine insisted on paying for the trip and wasn't interested in staying in the run-down kinds of places Dean was used to. He felt a little uncomfortable, but like with his brother, he would deny Kristine nothing.
"I guess this is it," Kristine said as Dean parked in front of the clinic.
They knew that Dean would be allowed to stay for the in-take interview, but once that was over he would have to leave. He could come for a visit on Friday, but then Kristine would only be allowed scheduled phone calls for a few weeks.
"How are you doing?" Dean asked.
"I've been through this before. I'm okay." She turned to take a complete look at him. He was doing a good job of hiding it, but she could tell he was scared. "What are you going to do tonight?"
"Kris –"
"I need to know you're going to be all right until Sam gets here."
"I will be."
Kristine smiled at him and touched his cheek. "Just remember that you're not invincible, okay? Let your brother help you; let him take some of the weight off your shoulders."
Dean could only nod.
The in-take interview and facility tour took almost two hours, but it was still not enough time for Dean. He didn't want to leave Kristine in this place, even though it came highly recommended and he could sense it was a quality facility. It was hard enough to leave her under normal circumstances and walking away as she was taken to her room was one of the hardest things Dean had ever done.
As he approached the exit, he could feel his chest constrict and he was cold. The door was heavy as he pushed it open and the Impala, waiting for him across the parking lot, seemed to be a hundred miles away. The bright sunshine and crisp, cool air did nothing to brighten Dean's mood and he drove out of the parking with his jaw set. He was alone and no one could see him, but no matter how despondent he felt, he wouldn't allow himself to cry.
He headed for the hotel, but couldn't force the car into the parking lot. He didn't want to go back there without Kristine. It wasn't his kind of place and the room wouldn't feel the same without her there. He drove around for a while and found himself at a bar in what looked like a fairly rough part of town. He didn't care; he could take care of himself if it came to that.
It was just like every other seedy bar he'd ever been in and, feeling right at home, Dean sat at the bar and ordered a beer. Since it was still fairly early, he almost had the place to himself. It wouldn't have mattered if it was packed because Dean wouldn't have noticed. He ordered a second beer, knowing he couldn't get drunk. He was too far from the hotel to drive and he didn't have Sam to come for him. He had the same thought when he ordered the third beer and would have asked for a fourth, but was interrupted by his cell phone.
He wasn't surprised to see Sam's name on the screen. He thought about not answering it, but didn't want him to worry. Besides, he could really use his brother right now.
"Hey," he answered quietly.
"Hey," Sam matched his tone. "Did you get Kristine settled in okay?"
"As best as I could. They let me stay for a while; gave us a tour of the place."
"Is it nice?"
"It's a hospital, Sam." Dean sighed to himself. "It's okay, I guess."
"How's she doing?"
"She seemed good. I mean, not happy about needing to be there, but ready to get help." Dean sighed. "And it's not the first time she's been hospitalized. At least this time it was voluntary."
"This has happened before?"
"When she was a kid. She had a lot of problems dealing with her sister's death. She told me she used to cut herself – she was okay for a long time, but she always has trouble around the anniversary and this year, with Patrick…."
"God, Dean. I had no idea. So how are you doing? Where are you?"
Dean didn't answer.
"Are you drinking?"
"I'm fine, Sam."
"Yeah, okay, but if you're in a bar –"
"I'm in a bar."
"How much have you had?" Dean heard the concern in his brother's voice.
"A few."
"Dean –"
"Don't. Please, just don't," Dean sighed. "I'll be okay."
"How are you going to get back to your room? How far away are you?"
"Look, I'll get back, okay?"
"No, Dean. It's not okay. I'm worried about you. I don't want you wandering around Denver after you've had too much to drink. Please, just go back to your room. If you feel like drinking, buy a six pack on your way, but please…."
"Sam," Dean whispered.
"Dude, I'm right here. You just have to talk to me."
"Hold on, okay? Don't hang up."
"I won't."
Dean tossed some money on the bar and walked out with a nod to the bartender. He carried the phone at his side, gripping it like a lifeline, then slipped behind the wheel of his car.
"Sam?"
"I'm here. What did you do?"
"I'm in the Impala."
"How much have you had to drink, Dean?"
"Three beers."
"Have you eaten?"
"I'm not drunk, Sam."
"Promise?"
"What are you? Six?"
"Most six year olds don't have to make sure their brothers get home from a bar. Now, promise me."
"I don't like it when you make me promise things."
"Dean. Please."
"Yeah, okay. I promise that I'm not too drunk to drive."
"Call me when you get to the hotel?"
Dean didn't say anything. He didn't want to end the call; he needed some kind of contact with his brother.
"Dean?"
"Don't hang up."
"What?"
"Look, it's been a hell of a few days and I'm tired. I don't have the energy to pretend; not with you. So just stay on the phone while I drive to the hotel, okay? You don't have to say anything, but, well…."
"Sure, Dean. I won't hang up."
Dean could tell that Sam was worried, but he couldn't help it. He drove to the hotel with the cell phone on the seat beside him. He glanced at it often while navigating the streets and once he was parked, Dean quickly grabbed it. "I'm here."
"Your room?"
"No, the parking lot. Kristine didn't want to stay in the dumps you and I normally do. It's not a four-star place, but it's nice. I don't want to go to the room, man."
"Yeah, I bet."
"She isn't there and this isn't my kind of place."
"Dean, it's just a room."
"I guess."
"Come on, let's go. Open the car door and step out. Go to your room and get some sleep."
While Dean walked to front entrance and took the elevator to the room, Sam told him about the pizza party he'd been to with his friends. He talked about a book store he'd found in town and, as Dean sat on the side of the bed, Sam told him about other details of his day. He knew it didn't matter what he said; Dean wasn't listening anyway. He just needed to hear Sam's voice and he understood that. He'd called his brother from the cemetery and from the apartment because he'd needed to hear his voice. There weren't any magic words to make things better for him, and Sam knew the same was true for Dean. It was sometimes just enough to know the other one was there.
"So you settled for the night?"
"Yeah," Dean said. He was lying on top of the comforter, shoes and coat still on.
"Look, I won't hang up if you're not ready."
"No, I'm okay. Go hang out with your friends."
"I'll keep my cell handy."
"I'm okay. Really."
"I know. But just in case –"
"Thanks, man."
After another moment, they ended their call. Sam slipped his phone into his pocket, disappointed that his brother still hadn't used his nickname.
TBC