The swirls of bright orange splattered over the polyester curtains made Bobby's eyes cross. Simultaneously, he closed the thick plastic coated shades as well as his eyelids. Yet, his actions had less to do with privacy, then the need to be active in the situation. After a draw out sigh and reopening of his eyes, he tempered the questions in his own mind, ready to be strong for Sam's sake. Secretly, he hoped his strength would somehow find a way to be for Dean's sake too. As he turned he spied his dress suit, wrinkled and faded. Truly uninspiring. "Damnation, I ain't gettin' in with that. I'll have to pick up a new one before we hit Lawrence. "
"Told you that last time you yanked that relic out," Sam noted. "You could iron it you know… you and Dean… slobs…" He grew quiet.
"Sam?"
"Nothing….. It's nothing."
I bet I could get half finished with the suit in the time it took Dean to call. That's all the time I had with Dean. He was with me and I...
"Finally got an in on the two chuckleheads found outside your house. Still in central holding waiting to be arraigned." Bobby intruded on Sam's thoughts
"You think they really fought Dean? Seems unlikely a creature would be so obvious." His voice rose up in pitch like childlike wonder.
"I've given up on figuring out the reason why evil does anything."
"How you gettin' on?" Bobby asked in a flat tone, leaving it up to Sam to interpret just what he was asking about.
"Fine… I'm fine."
That was enough for Bobby to know that Sam was far from okay. There was little need for reasoning at the moment and he knew any words about the Dean subject might as well be hot air. Sam wouldn't rest until he had proof- definitive proof- that the thing they tracked was Dean or not Dean. All Bobby could think of is that they were chasing a ghost of Dean- a thought of what they wanted to believe when all they had left was the corpse of the man. All that he loved about the kid was long gone. "You ready for this… we'll be hitting Lawrence tomorrow morning. You haven't been listening to that message anymore?"
Truthfully, he had, but he had hid it better the last few days, working it in when he called out for takeout or called a contact for information.
How can I tell him all I have of Dean is 21.5 seconds? It isn't enough.
"Uh…No…. I thought it best to keep it in case we could hear anything in the background, but… But, I got a trace on that call. It was pinpointed to Lawrence. Managed to sweet talk..."
Charmed it out of the company in less than...
"You... …huh….. sweet talk… you boys better get over using your looks to get by…later on you'll…" Bobby stopped realizing he was still including Dean in the mix.
I miss him too, Bobby. I'll find a way to get the real Dean back.
"Yeah… well... she gave me a location of a cell tower… Mapped the area last night. It's near a coffee place, some shops, a hair place, and gas station. The tower's on East and Oakhurst.
"You hope someone has seen him or he stopped for a haircut while following demon plans?"
"Worth checking out."
"I'm more interested in the two morons the police have in custody." Bobby leafed through a long list of rap sheets on both men. "While the police see the last crime as little more than good ole boys getting pissed off at each other, they're both being held for other crimes. Seems the cops can't find the other man involved in the fist fight…"
"No one to press charges…"
"Jackson Riley and Hugo Lynch..."
"He looks like a Hugo…" Sam pulled the mug shot copy from Bobby's hands, glaring at the giant man in the photo.
You'll pay for what you've done to Dean.
"Yeah, well these two are bad news and it don't sit well they were messing outside of your home."
"We'll check those two out and head over..."
"No… I want you out of sight. That call…"
It was Dean! You believe me! Why can't we believe it…. Don't we deserve it… deserve something right in this world.
"You said it wasn't true!"
"Even if it ain't, I don't take changes. Not with family." Shoving his hand in his pocket, he tried to quell the remorse down into the dingy crevice of his faded jeans. "If they were... heck, are after you, I don't plan on handing you over. If this is a trap, they didn't send me a message with my brother's dead voice…. I am not ready to…"
"I could buy you a bow and some gift wrap."
"Don't start smartass." Bobby knew Sam's mood has less to do with being happy, but being close to the trail and thinking he was closer to getting the real Dean back. Having admitted he was taking the warning seriously seemed to only increase Sam's belief, which Bobby needed to quickly diffuse. "I ain't losing you, boy." He looked softer at Sam as a father would when a child just broke a priceless heirloom.
Sam half smiled at Bobby. "I can take care of myself."
Dean taught me how. He always took care of me, now I'll find a way.
"You go check out the location of that call and buzz me if ya find anything. I'm going to have a few questions for our jailbirds. Don't go anywhere else without me."
"Same goes for you." Sam wondered how far Bobby would go to keep him out of sight.
"I won't do it without ya." Bobby always seemed to have a way to tell what the boys were thinking. "As of this moment, you're on hourly check-ins. No arguments!"
Some men swear fear quickened the senses, allowing them to rise to exceptional heights in times of danger, but Dean found it all unbearable.
I didn't use to!
He perched on his haunches near the old barn, which had seen about as many hard days as Dean. He was man in a frozen world of confusion, regrets, and memories. Just twenty feet away a solid glare of ice spread across a pond so small it bordered on pathetic. His dirty fingers dug down into the frozen ground, freeing a jagged stone from its earthly grave, flicking and skidding it hard down the thick water mirror surface. When it joined the mass of other pebbles on the far end of the water, he closed his eyes finding only a flash of hell there. He banged his head against some loose boards, an obvious makeshift repair, covering some of barn's decay. He slammed back again like he could rattle the thoughts away.
The stink of hell is still on me. It won't let me go.
The thin line between his sanity and the darkness that threatened to engulf him grew thin with each passing moment. Soon the thread would break leaving nothing but darkness in a world that twists and breaks a person's mind until their very last hope is shattered leaving them broken, a fate he feared more than death.
I can't control it! It just gets worse. Is hell coming for me? I will never beat them, no matter how hard I try.
He didn't know why he ran, just seemed to be the only option to him anymore. He didn't get too far before he realized he really didn't have anywhere to go or any means to get anywhere if he did. He could go back to the farmhouse, demand his things and face the misguided women or just keep walking until he froze to death. Unfortunately, he didn't get to weigh his choices, hearing the two sisters approaching long before he could see him.
"Look at him; he's just sitting out there on the snow covered ground. Lord, I think his brain done addled."
"That's what I said about you when you were sweet on Ernest."
"Shut up, you old hag." Gladys beamed a smile as she jabbed a boney elbow into the thickest part of Wanda's side. "Sick old fart."
When the usual banter received no rise from Dean, the sisters looked at each other thoughtfully. Finally, Wanda huffed, changing her tone. "You want to stay out here all night?" Wanda inquired, approaching softly with Gladys not far behind in tow.
"It gets a might colder here after dark."
Dean skidded a slick, warm from stealing the heat of his hand, pebble across the pond like he had so many others since he experienced that disturbing vision.
"We have dinner ready. I promise it's not sheep."
Wanda glanced at her sister, asking her to back for a moment. As Gladys stepped away, Wanda tossed a light weight blanket around Dean's shoulders. She glared at Dean, who was intent on ignoring the sisters. "You're going to start getting numb soon."
I already am! I'm a monster!
Nothing seemed to break Dean's solitude. Without a clue on how to drive the horror that took hold of the young man, the sister turned to what they knew best- down home medicine and clatter.
"Asafoetida bag! That will perk him right up. Sure fire cure of the doldrums."
"But, we used the last devil's dung in the bag for Mr. Jenkin's cat. Poor hairless thing."
"Should have called animal control…. "
"For Jenkins or the cat!?"
"He should have known better than paint that kitty green. "
"And to take it off with turpentine! Just cruel."
"I can still see that cat draggin' his ass across the farm yard."
"SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!" He finally screamed his resolve breaking. He had enough of this gibberish. His entire world had ended and he couldn't take anymore nonsense and meaningless crap. "Whatever you're doing, it isn't working. What the hell do you know…?"
"Oh… I can give you bee pollen to cure the ahem… not working."
"WHAT!"
"You know dear… impotence." Wanda's hand made an up and down gesture far too obscene for Dean's idea of an old lady.
"WHATEVER CRAZY TRAIN…"
"We're not crazy, dear…just waiting for you to open that mouth."
"So you can shove some gross slop down it…. No thanks!"
"No, so you can learn that you won't get any better by bottling it up." Wanda's face was inches from his own, staring down at him blankly.
He glared, giving them the look of disgust. Yet it wasn't really aimed at them, they were just the closest thing his anger latched onto.
When he didn't give the women further satisfaction of a response, they both knew they had to push him over the edge. If Dean wanted venom, then that is what he would get. It was long passed the time to turn the mirror in on Dean.
"You should own up to what you did."
The accusatory tone in Gladys's voice, which up to now had been sickly sweet, stabbed at Dean more than the cold.
I saved my brother. It doesn't matter...Sam's alive. Sam's alive.
"You'll feel better to cleanse the soul." Each sister took turns jabbing at the open wound inside of Dean, pouring blame faster and faster.
"Or are you ASHAMED!"
"It's a sorry state..."
"All those voice inside of you..."
"Dead!"
"Killer, I'd say..."
"Ready excuses..."
"We should let him freeze...."
"Wonder how many people he looked in the eye as they died!"
The sisters barraged accusations. The words blurred together. Every syllable struck a chord of how Dean felt deep inside, ripping a larger gash into his already shattered psyche.
"Bet he let that Sam die....'
SAM!
"Or killed him..."
"I feel so sorry..."
"SHUT UP!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!I DON"T WANT your sympathy, Cause there's no way that I'm sorry for what I did!!!!!!! I did nothing wrong!"
"Precisely. Then why are you so morose about it." Gladys asked softer with a wry smile, leading Dean precisely where they wanted.
"I... I..." His breathing pushed in short bursts around his words as he tried to verbalize any thought that swirled in his mind.
"It seems hate and guilt are the only things you are ready to accept. All that fear, hurt, and frustration. Are you still seeing those awful things?" Wanda spoke in a more direct tone, triumphantly they had goaded Dean to open up and anger was often the best way to crack into anyone's honesty.
"We saw the scars….that must have…."
"I know this is hard. But, I promise you can…" Wanda tried to reach out to him, but Dean repelled away.
"Why… why should you even care?"
"Because I do."
"Because we do." Gladys agreed.
"We'll I'm sure some stray dog could use your suffocating…"
"Young Man! Hmmm….bitterness doesn't suit you."
"Well get use to it. Better yet, tell me where the town is and I'll be out of your way."
"Don't try me sonny. I've taken down better than the likes of you. Shooting wasn't the only thing I'm good at. Now, if you are hell-bent on causing yourself misery, far be it from us to keep you from it. I had such hopes. I do prefer the kind child I saw chopping wood…"
"At least before you had the horrible flashback."
"Just… just leave me alone….it was nothing." He felt tears bite at him as if he was somehow homesick.
"It was pure pain and agony. I've seen it before. But I know there is a deeper gentle…"
"Lady, look… I was going to rob you that night on the bus. I'm nothing you want to make believe I am. Truth is… I've lied, stolen, broken as many laws some before they could even been written down, been a louse, cheater, con man….killer…. Now, just leave me alone. I could have robbed you blind that night if I wanted- lie in wait until I took you all out and had everything."
"I know that. But you took nothing. You didn't even fight back. Why?"
Because you're old farts with less than me.
"It's the reason you can't force yourself to be hateful to me now. Even when you are so hurt that is all you have to protect yourself. I saw it that night. I maybe old but I am far from a fool."
"You needed somewhere to belong…."
"And you think I belong here. Lady, you are nuts."
"So where do you belong? Where are you going?" Wanda drew even closer, as her sister moved closer and closer from behind as if they might ensnare Dean's troubles between them.
HELL. I belong in Hell.
"Don't know- everywhere… nowhere."
"You think the attitude scares me. We've bent more rascals over our knees than the wrinkles on my face. Dear boy, why do you…"
"It's not for you to tell me what to do!" Staring off distantly at the same group of stones collected on the frozen pond, he swallowed down everything brimming to boil inside of him.
Gladys sighed, drawing closer to her sister like a second wave in a battle. Wanda just gave Dean a small smile. "You know my husband was like you. Proud and determined on the outside, but the inside was jelly. Mac fought in the war…And…. For a long time…."
"For a very long time…."
"When he came back, he was just....just not himself. He was held prisoner and he never really would tell me what happened during that time. I tried so hard to get it out of him."
"Maybe you should have left him alone." Dean advised. "Or did you drive him away too!"
"Indeed not." She said with just a bit of defensiveness.
"God rest him." Gladys added.
"I still miss him terribly, but… but we had…."
Suddenly, Dean felt like a jackass and if his life were a cartoon he was sure a braying donkey would flash in his place. The draconian nature of his words seemed ill placed against the harmless old broads, who had done little but help him since he crossed in their paths. Sure, they were annoying, but such venom should be reserved for the things that crawled in the dark.
"Mac always said I was what kept him from going crazy. No matter what he had done or had seen, he knew he had someone on his side…"
"There is no one left…" he muttered.
"Hmm…" Gladys moved in closer messing with the edges of the blanket around Dean, not really touching him. Obviously, she didn't buy that Dean was friendless in this world. Men with his looks could find several women to fall at his feet. "Or do you think you are not deserving of connections in this world."
He was silent, not knowing how to express himself even if he wanted to. He was alone and no one could understand something he couldn't understand. His battle raged from within now, not from some unseen creature or person.
"I don't know what to do."
"Because you're the enemy now."
GOD SHE KNOWS… HOW CAN SHE KNOW?
"It'll be the largest war you have ever fought, but…. But…"
Suddenly, Gladys's hand ruffed a few hairs- just enough to announce her presence behind him. "You know salvation can be achieved by all."
"However, most of us deny the sins and feel we deserve the pain that has happened to us."
"No one deserves pain…Allow yourself mercy."
If only it were true my life might mean something. How I offer hope to the old sisters, when I can't even trust anyone- Not even Sam and Bobby. They hate me enough to not even see I'm really here- to ignore me as if I don't exist. I know it's my fault. My deal hurt him more than I ever realized. I thought he was stronger than me… stronger than any of us. I broke him-my little brother who I was supposed to protect has changed and I'm the one that hurt him by trying to save him.
When he glanced up, both sisters were smiling kindly. Dean hoped that he would not cry, but knew his eyes were glassy with clinging thoughts of yesterdays and wishes to change it all. The sisters did not pause or spare him the embarrassment of leaving him in his guilt. They pressed on, sounding as if they were trying to preach until the last word sheltered inside of him.
"Mac's the reason I see that agony on your face. The same…. Same look of the living dead. It took him a lot of years...took me a lot of years to realize that man than came back wasn't the man I married. He was scarred. And he had that look...just like the one I saw on your face the night you tried to rob us."
"I... I didn't... I couldn't....I'm not a man anymore."
"Poppycock! You're more human than most people who doing nothing. You stopped speaking harshly because you thought you hurt me....your morals couldn't let you destroy me when I am sure you are more than capable of doing so. Do you think many men would even stop and consider helping two old ladies cut wood? Yet, you demanded we stop. Somehow you lost your focus on the decency inside you."
"Nothing can change that at the root, the rest is just fear." Gladys added. "You don't have to be afraid of anything."
"There's more to afraid of out there than I could ever tell you." Dean folded his hands under the blanket, suddenly feeling the abrupt cold. "I'm not afraid- you can't be afraid in my line of work. And it won't... won't go away....won't...."
"You're afraid of everything- kindness, most of all. Might mean you have to admit there is goodness when you have seen battles. You're afraid of yourself. You think you want to die- end it all, but why are you running. Deep down you want to be who you are."
"Just like Mac- you're running from what happened as if you can get away."
"I want to be who I was."
"You can't go back... Once you realize that, these flashes won't control you."
Without any word from him, the sisters knew he had lost self control. He was spinning out at both ends- no future or past to turn to.
Wanda drew closer. "You have something left to fight for."
"I don't….I've nothing to lose."
"Yes you do. You're still reaching for it."
"I feel my control growing weaker and Hell's grip getting stronger…" He didn't care being literal. It wasn't like the sisters would believe he had been in Hell and saved by some strange miracle.
NO- Not a miracle…. A better form of hell.
He was sure some dark thing had thought it fitting to send him back on earth to suffer in ways Dean never imagined and at the end of it all, he would return to the pit with this new found pain. Surely something dark wanted him to suffer. The notion pestered him all day and invaded the transistors sparking in his head. "You don't know what it's like."
"No, and I never want to."
"Suddenly I'm a prisoner in this shapeless and meaningless world. And I hate it there! Caged. And I can't win… no matter what I can't win."
Wanda glanced at her sister, giving her a small sigh. Dean was a reminder to her of the young man she had loved so dearly and lost just a short time ago. "Sweet boy, why must you win? Can't you just be?"
"I don't have a choice. The darkness grows and you fight…No damn hope of making the world better. There is always madness and I'm always in the center. It's always there…no matter where we go. You can't run…You can't…..you can't…." He breathed heavily. "What do I do now?"
"Learn to live again…." Gladys noticed the word we in his words, filing it way for future conversations. Both sisters knew they had to press carefully and there had been more than enough on the boy for the moment. "Come now, let's get inside and warm…"
"You don't understand. I can't stop this!"
"Course you can- Yes I want to live or No I want to die."
"I don't want to die!"
The sound coming from his mouth shocked him. For all his twisted logic and loneliness from before, he didn't want his life to end.
How did they know!
He wanted to ask them, but he didn't understand it himself. Did he have hope that one day he would find a way to restore his family? Or just the hope of having a second chance at life? He knew he would sacrifice himself again to spare Sam, even with the pain he suffered in Hell, but he knew now he wasn't evil. He was only him. A bit beaten and worn thin, but he was Dean Winchester through and through.
"Did Mac ever…" Dean had to know if there was any way for him to be normal, confirming the sisters suspicions in that one small uttered question.
"He had some more bad days, but we worked through all of it. Then there was more good than bad. Certain sounds would trigger it. I wish he were still alive to help you. But, if you let us, we will help….don't you want something for yourself- some peace. I know we are poor substitutes for Mac..."
MY FAMILY! I want my family.
"You're not. I'm sorry…. I…." when her words were finished he grew quiet as the information swirled and lingered in the most private thought in his mind. He'd never spoken of his own inner demons to anyone. Even the family business discussions had been off limits. And the few times he did share that information, he had always been the one to bear the hurt for it.
Wanda pulled him closer, believing she has broken into his protection. "You can stay as long as you want with us. You have to accept what has happened to move forward. Even if it means rebuilding....moving on from those you love..."
"We can help you if you let us. I know we'd like to try. If you can tolerate a couple of old coots?" Gladys stroked Dean's messy hair. "Lord, you have to comb that hair…. Needs a good cut."
"Hmmm… that's a tall order. Still….having a hot man at the house will have them gossiping forever around here!" Wanda noted.
"I'll get some chamomile and hops tea started. That should help calm his nerves."
"Come back to the house. Would you like some dinner now?"
"Do I have any choice in the matter?"
God no more sheep stew! OR WORSE!
"Course you do dear, yes and no."
His fingers shook over the fine porcelain cup, which seemed too precious and delicate in his dirt covered hands. He always had steady hands- steady aim-- but it failed him now. The cup slipped and drops of the hot liquid slightly burned his fingers.
"Drink it up now." Gladys ordered as she rubbed his spine, straight down the patch of freckles she knew were just hidden underneath the fabric of the old shirt.
Dean responded, relaxing his shaking to a mild tremor. "I'm fine… you don't…"
"Hush! Don't you argue with us. We haven't lost an argument since I was 12." Wanda had a sinister smile on her face as if she was recalling the victory. "You sure you won't have something to eat." She offered placing the leftover in the frig. A mountain of fried chicken, stuffing, pie, and rolls threatened to keep the door from closing.
"That's not really a meal. It's a death wish."
"Well if you have to go… "Wanda said. "I'm old… and no diet is going to keep the reaper from my door."
"Don't say that…" For some reason the thought of either sister dying bothered him.
"Death is not that scary. After you hit 70 you just want to tell the bastard to hurry up." Gladys added.
"Aren't you afraid of Hell?"
"Don't believe in it."
"You damn well should."
"Language child!"
"Only those that think they deserve Hell go there! And I don't think I deserve to go… why do you?"
Just earlier, Dean had thought the same idea that he belonged in Hell for all the stupid things he had ever done. Not now. Something had changed. He wasn't sure what. He knew who had facilitated the shift, but how that small switch flicked inside of him baffled him at every turn. Everything still hurt, but he wanted to try to find a path back.
"Told you anyone can find forgiveness but it's the idea of not being worthy of it."
"You're wrong."
"Oh, you know of someone who went to Hell and thought they were in the wrong place?"
Finding he couldn't argue with that, Dean raced to find some words until Gladys spoke again.
"Still think you should eat something."
Normally, Dean would have jumped right in, but for once he really wasn't hungry. He was tired, confused, full of new ideas, and missing his family more than ever. Without any idea of where to turn, he was just as blank as a page. Not wanting to think of anything that might take him back to a hellish flashback, he craved to phase out like he could will himself to disappear. Yet, the small words the sisters spoke only confirmed he was still in a lost in some strange new world.
I can't let these two bear my burden. It's not right. I can't bring the evil truth to their door. Let them live in peace.
"Is the tea okay?"
"It's fine…"
"I'll make some more…" Gladys jumped up, taking the empty cup from his hands.
"I should really get going."
"No, it's okay… tea is one of my specialties."
Watching the old ladies move about like overactive chickens, Dean found it hard to reconcile the nonsense side with the wise ladies he had just seen. A brief smile forced on one corner of his mouth, but it was so brief it was like it never happened. "No offense, but why would you want to help a total stranger… someone you don't know a thing about?" he asked.
Wanda looked at him as if dissecting him. Thoughts of the need to find the right words squished on her perched lips while Gladys seemed to pretend she never heard the question. Absently, she hummed, poured more tea, and filled the cup with a dash of this and that until she seemed satisfied it was perfect.
Finally, Wanda answered or more likely asked him a question "Tell me…. Have you ever saved someone you didn't know? Fought for a person you just met?"
"Yeah, but that's different… It's my job."
"But why did you choose that job?" Handing him the porcelain tea cup, Gladys picked up the mode of thought for her sister easily.
Because some demon destroyed my family.
"Not really my first choice. Kinda just happened."
"When you were asked to save them, did you question why you did so?"
"It was just right… I don't know… Maybe I was selfish, thinking I could stop someone else from facing the things I had in my youth….It was just right."
With eyebrows arched, Wanda smiled that victorious way again. "Then you have your answer."
Suddenly Dean yawned and he felt a bit soft as if boneless.
"Oh… poor dear, you should lay down. Sleep always helps."
I don't want to sleep. Hell comes in my dreams. They come in my dreams. She comes in my dreams and I can't face her!
For the first time, Dean found himself acknowledging there had been someone in Hell with him. Try as he might, he couldn't shake the thought. As soon as it sprang to life in him, it felt natural that he wasn't the only soul haunting the pits. Yet, the very idea of it disturbed him and pushed back some of the sluggishness he felt.
"Here let's add another drop of honey to that tea. Always helps me sleep."
Before he could say no, she had added two drops of a liquid, which looked more like milky water than honey. One thing for certain, no one ever could win an argument with these two, so he gulped the tea down hsi gullet. He was never one for drinking something so tame, but the warmth helped ease every microscopic fiber in his body.
"Why don't you lay down for a bit... ?'
"Listen, I appreciate the thought. I really do…" He said softly and then poured on the charm he used so well. "My life....It's a bit looney tunes, but… You really don't want to be a part of this."
"Nonsense. It's too late to take a bus."
"And Russell never runs the bus much in this weather. Could be days before he gets his rear in gear."
"Rear in Gear. Oh, my Dear. That's funny." Gladys full on snorted before she chuckled.
WOMEN! Even old ones make no sense!
"Oh no, now you're doing it."
"Reminds me of the time…"
"No… I almost forgot that…"
"Slipped right out…"
As the sisters went on and on about something Dean couldn't follow even if he had detailed instructions, he gaped a yawn, still clinging to the idea of fighting sleep. The questions in his own mind would surely lead him back to that pain once he closed his eyes. He was safer in the musty walls of the farmhouse with Gladys and Wanda. He defied the very idea of sleeping as his eyelids dropped like a brick emersed in water. He balled his fist in defense. His hands ready just in case anything came at him.
"The look on his face…. Priceless."
"I thought he was going to piss his pants."
"He did- right down his left pant leg."
"You would have thought he got a glimpse of Christmas with no pies baked."
"Huh?" Dean muttered half dozily, while Wanda helped shift him down to the couch cushion, extending his legs to lay fully.
"Oh, dear boy….tsk....rest now. I promise no dreams tonight."
Gladys unfurled his closed fingers to a relaxed position before she pulled a patchwork quilt over him, tucking him more tightly that most people bound ropes. "Hushabye now. We promise you'll be safe."
Distantly, he heard his mother's voice join the chorus of their tones. Perhaps it was the memory of his mother tucking him in all those nights ago that sprang her sweet, emotional words to his mind. "Go on now… Remember I love you. Can you remember that? Promise me." Just as the thought came, it passed when the door to his mind closed into the numbness of sleep.
"Poor dear."
"How many drops did you give him?"
"Only four otherwise the tea tastes really bitter. My dropsy sleep cure is better than any store brand you can find."
"Heck seven drops could collapse an elephant! I'm fairly sure that is how you got the Quarterback to date you junior year."
"Women always have ways, sister!" Gladys laughed, and then sighed at the sleeping boy. "At least tonight, he won't have all those horrid memories bothering him."
"The sweet, broken thing."
"I hated being so cruel to him before."
"Now, now. It had to be done. Self-preservation is a primal urge, dear and he was a locked door."
"Doesn't mean I like it. He almost made me cry."
"Hell- you get squeamish watching Bambi!"
"Shut it crone!"
"Fart Queen!"
