AN: Well....at least this chapter isn't late. It's got some interesting developments in it though.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. Like, at all. 'Cept Lila Bray.
a ghost of you is all that i have left
Written by Becks Rylynn
Chapter Nine:
Paige Matthews: Do you believe in magic?
Henry Mitchell: I don't know. I don't think about it much. Why?
Paige Matthews: I think it's time that you did.
-Charmed, Repo Manor
He tries so hard to ignore what happened that night, he tries to put it to the back of his mind. She was half asleep; she had probably been having a dream. Ruby's gone.
Life moves on, the earth keeps spinning; he keeps raising Bray, keeps treating her like a princess, like she is the most precious thing in the world. Eventually, after a couple weeks, the night becomes a blur, just something that happened. It didn't mean anything. He's got too much to worry about. He starts thinking about schools because everybody keeps telling him she should be starting kindergarten in the fall. He wonders what the hurry is. Besides, she's...she's smaller than other kids her age, what if they pick on her? He doesn't think he could take it if she came home crying.
Or what if the teacher turns out to be evil? That happened once with Sam and it wasn't pretty.
She loves her new imaginary friend. So far this new unnamed friend is the only one to last longer than a week. He's not sure how he feels about this new friend. Oh, well. Maybe he's just jealous.
''Lila Bray,'' he says, on a bright day even though there's no sun. She's having a tea party with her stuffed animals, a feather boa wrapped around her neck, a sparkling, plastic tiara on her head.
''Yes, Daddy?''
''Would you like to go to school?''
She looks up and frowns curiously, tilting her head to the side, pushing up the tiara on her head when it slides to the side. ''I don't know,'' she mulls. She blinks and seems to think about it for a moment before she turns to the empty chair across from her. ''What do you think?''
Dean arches an eyebrow and bites down on his bottom lip in an attempt to stop himself from saying something.
She nods and ''mmmhmms'' for a few seconds before fixing her gaze on him. ''She says you shouldn't be so afraid of letting me go. She says you should know by now that I'll always come back to you.''
He blinks slowly and licks his lips, leaning against the doorway. ''Uh-huh. And who is this mysterious 'she'? Does she have a name yet?''
''Yes,'' Bray says, matter-of-factly. ''Her name is Strawberry.''
He shakes his head and laughs, moving farther into the room. ''I don't know where you get your names, baby girl.''
She smiles, but then suddenly whips her head back to the empty chair. ''What?'' Slowly, a smile covers her face and she lets out a small laugh, before clearing her throat and turning back to her father. ''Daddy, she says you should join us.''
His mouth drops open and for a moment, he can't find the words. A tea party? Oh, hell no. ''Uh, you know, babe, I'm afraid that might ruin my image.''
However, with one pout, Bray has him on one of the tiny little chairs. ''Now....'' She smiles brightly and claps her hands together in delight. ''Don't you two look nice.''
He's starting to wonder about this new imaginary friend of hers. She's always talking to her, always chatting away with someone he can't see. He thinks this new friend of hers may be an adult by the things his daughter says she says. That worries him even more. Being in the hunting community for so long, he has heard horror stories about ghosts and demons attaching themselves to families. So....what if his baby is getting all chummy with a demon? Or a ghost?
She's not supposed to be around that life.
That life is supposed to be behind him.
Fearing she's in danger, he lines her room with salt one night. He never plans on her reaction.
''Daddy!''
He is woken in the middle of the night by her terrified scream and his heart starts pounding loudly. However, when he stumbles into her room he doesn't see some horrible monster ready to take her away. All he sees is a scared little girl, crying her eyes out in her bed. ''Lila Bray,'' he whispers, sitting down next to her. ''Sugar, what's wrong?'' He moves to pull her into his arms but her little fists push him away as she scrambles out of the bed and to her feet.
''Strawberry!'' She wails. ''She's gone! Daddy, you have to bring her back! You have to!'' Her sobs are loud and uncontrollable, wails of fear as she looks around the room, desperately searching for someone who isn't there.
He swallows and rises to his feet. The salt. It has to be the salt. It's keeping her out. ''Lila Bray...'' He's lifted her into his arms before she can protest, his voice sharp and firm. ''Baby, listen to me.'' Her sobs grow quieter at the sound of his voice and she peers up at him with a trembling lip and tear filled eyes. ''I need you to tell me about Strawberry, all right?'' She sniffles and nods. ''Is she your age?''
''N-No.'' She shakes her head and more tears slip from her eyes. ''She-She's older. Like you.''
''Is she - ''
''She's a ghost!'' She's too distraught to see that the firm look on his face falters for a moment and he sucks in a breath but doesn't let it out. ''She's a ghost, Daddy, I'm sorry,'' she moans. ''I'm sorry I didn't tell you.'' He sets her down on the ground, afraid he'll drop her in his moment of breaking. ''I'm sorry, bu-but she's not bad! She's good, I know it. I can feel it!'' She puts a hand over her heart and looks up at him with eyes that beg him to believe her. ''I can feel it in here.''
''Sweetheart - ''
''Please.....'' She sobs and she's crying so hard he starts to worry she'll make herself sick. ''Please give her back! Please.''
Her cries and pleas are gut wrenching, they make him feel sick inside. Maybe he hates ghosts with a passion, but his daughter seems to need this one and he needs her to stop crying. The chance he's taking here is big, he's always going to be on edge now, pulled back into that world with a whoosh, but he takes the risk anyways. And he breaks the salt line.
A moment passes and then Bray whirls around to face the bed, her eyes lighting up. ''You came back!'' She rushes forwards and throws herself into the arms of someone he cannot see. ''Where did you go?!'' She cries. ''I woke up and you weren't there! You can't leave me again! You can't!''
He can only watch as a ghost (a ghost he can't see, no less) comforts his daughter. Her cries stop after a few moment of whimpering and he should be getting out the rock salt gun, in any other case that's what he would be doing. But this is different. This ghost, this person feels different. Bray sniffles and her voice comes out wobbly and shaky but it's there. ''Stars shining bright above you, night breezes seem to whisper ''I love you''; birds singin' in the sycamore tree; dream a little dream of me....''
He feels like he can't breathe, like the walls are closing in on him. His baby girl is in love with a ghost. What the hell is he supposed to do now?
(''Dean, I don't know what to tell you, the house isn't haunted. No mysterious deaths, no burial ground. It's a perfectly normal house.'' ''Then who the fuck is haunting my daughter?'')
He strongly dislikes this ghostie. She may be harmless, but she's fucking annoying. Always butting into his life like she belongs there. He has his suspicions, he'd have to be a fool not to, but (like everything else that causes him pain) he pushes them to the back of his mind and doesn't deal. They're not important. Bray is. She is all that matters. She is the only reason that he's putting up with this nosy ghost. He doesn't know who this strange woman haunting his daughter is, but Bray needs her and he'd do anything for her. So, he deals.
He's pretty sure she knows he doesn't like her. He thinks she might be trying to get him to like her. She watches him sometimes, late at night, he can feel her. It feels strangely familiar. He comes home from work one day, frazzled and tired and gets the distinct feeling ghost gal is trying to comfort him when he feels cold air on his shoulder like someone has put their hand there.
Okay, this is getting weird.
He realizes that one day when he loses his keys and calls out, ''Have either of you girls seen my keys?'' They're in his hand in an instant, with a rush of cold air and a click of heels and he smiles and says, ''Thanks'' like it's no big deal. Of course then he realizes he's smiled at her and covers it up with a roll of his eyes.
Oh no. No, no, no. There is no fucking way he is growing fond of this woman. He's had some pretty screwed up relationships in the past and he's not about to go and add to that list with a ghost. He tries to dislike her with all he has in him, he tries to loathe her because of what she is, tries so hard. But hey....he has a child with a demon; a ghost might just be a step up.
Their life almost becomes normal, a routine. There's a man, a woman and a child. It's almost like a real family. Bray changes her name to Blue because she says Blue doesn't like the name Strawberry. He rolls his eyes. ''But she likes the name Blue?''
''Well,'' Bray shrugs. ''She has blue eyes.''
He laughs it off and shakes his head. They continue on with their odd lifestyle.
But then....
Bray gets the flu one night. She ends up throwing up all over herself in the middle of the night and he's trying to clean her up, but she's struggling against him, moaning and crying. Finally, after a few moments of him desperately trying, two ghostly hands push him out of the way and Blue takes over. The sick little girl doesn't protest one bit as invisible hands tug her pukey nightgown over her head, pulling a clean one on. A burst of jealousy rushes through him and his eyes darken, although you can't tell since they're standing in the dark. He is the one who has raised her, he's her father. Not to mention she has a mother, she has a mother who loved her and no one is ever allowed to replace Ruby.
Once the girl has fallen into a fitful, feverish slumber, he sets his jaw and turns to the empty room. ''She doesn't need you, you know. I am her father, I can take care of her myself.'' The words come out harsh and cold and for a moment all there is, is dead silence.
And then the mirror on Bray's vanity fogs over and words appear. Don't be an asshole. Let me help you.
He scowls and crosses her arms. ''I don't need help. Especially not yours.''
Pause. You don't like me.
''No shit.''
Not going anywhere. Better get used to me.
''Oh, why don't you just go and roam around a graveyard moaning or somethin'? I can handle this.''
Fine.
''Fine!''
In response, a bottle of cough syrup is roughly shoved at his chest and he hears heels click on the floor as she walks away. He gets the distinct impression that is her way of saying, Fuck you, Dean.
Well, fine.
He doesn't need her.
Oh, crap.
He needs her.
He loses his keys five times, (in three days) he burns his lip on the coffee, he breaks countless plates, and the smoke alarm goes off when he tries to make dinner. And then the fun really starts. The fire extinguisher has somehow fallen off the counter and landed on his foot, causing him to turn around and smack into the counter, hand hitting the hot stove, earning a yelp from him and then....wait. How did he get on the floor? Groaning, he pulls himself off the ground, holding his burned hand. ''What the hell is going on here?''
''Daddy?''
He turns around to face his daughter. Her hair is disheveled from being stuck in bed for three days and she's still sniffling but at least she's not as pale as she was. At the sight of her father, in his current condition, her eyes widen and slowly a grin stretches across her face. ''Whoa. Daddy, you really made her mad.''
''She'll get over it.'' Three, two, one. He whirls back around to face Bray, eyes widening. ''Wait a minute. She's the one doing this?''
Bray nods. ''Uh-huh. And she thinks it's real funny too. She's laughing at you.''
''Where?'' He whirls around in several directions. ''Where is she? Blue! Stop this now!''
''She says no. Not until you say sorry.''
''For what?''
''For being an....'' Bray pauses and arches an eyebrow, turning towards Blue. ''I'm not allowed to say that word.''
''Okay!'' He bursts out, holding his hands in surrender. ''I'm sorry!''
''And what are you sorry for?''
''For being a - ''
'' - Meanie?''
He sighs. ''Yes. For being a meanie.'' He waits for something to happen and then a ghostly hand grabs his burned hand and pulls him towards the sink. The faucet turns on and she pushes his hand under cold water.
Bray steps closer and eyes the kitchen for a moment before she sighs and turns around, starting towards the living room. ''I'll get the pizza menu.''
Left alone with a ghost, Dean takes a breath and looks at the space she's standing, pretending he can see her. ''All right, look...'' He sighs heavily like this is the hardest thing he's ever had to do. Well, it certainly isn't easy. Talking to a person you can't see. ''Maybe...Maybe I was wrong. About you. Maybe Lila Bray could use a woman in her life. I mean, she...her mother's...gone. Maybe it would be nice for her to have you.'' Cold air brushes his cheek, a hand he can't feel and he swears for a second that they've been here before. ''So, I'm sorry. I really am sorry, okay?''
There's a long pause and he wonders if she'll answer. She does. A different kind of cold air touches his cheek, like lips grazing his cheeks and his breath catches in his throat. ''Jesus,'' he mutters, laughing somewhat nervously. ''What am I getting myself into?''
The window above the sink fogs over. You have no idea.
He swallows thickly and waits for the fluttering in his stomach to go away.
Oh, boy.
Sam and Sarah's son is born a week late and there are complications.
He gets the phone call after he's heaved a heavy laundry basket onto his bed (because that's the kind of guy he is now, the kind who does laundry and folds it nicely instead of tossing it into a duffel bag that has seen better days). From what he understands (and it's kind of hard to understand any of Sam's terrified rambling) the baby is fine, a healthy baby boy, but Sarah is not. He catches the word 'hemorrhaging' somewhere in there. And he doesn't know a whole lot about childbirth, he wasn't even there when Bray was born, but he knows that is not good.
When he walks back into the room in a daze, the laundry is in the process of being folded by a ghost. ''That was Sam.'' His voice is soft and quiet and he just can't handle anymore heartache in his life. Sam can't either.
The piece of clothing that is being folded flutters to the bed and he hears heels click as she moves over to him. ''Something went wrong with Sarah and the baby. Sarah's....Sarah's in pretty bad shape.'' He sits down on the bed, letting out a heavy sigh. ''Sam's a wreck.'' The bedsprings squeak as she sits down next to him, her ghostly hand on his back. ''What if she dies, Blue? Sam....he'll end up just like me. He can't end up like me.''
It's times like these he wishes he could touch her.
''He's already lost so much. He can't lose anymore.'' He feels that familiar burn behind his eyes and squeezes his eyes shut, running a hand over a tired face. Coldness envelops him, like she's wrapped her arms around him and he does not shiver one bit.
And he wonders how this happened. How can he care about a ghost this much, when he can't even touch her? It doesn't make sense. But...what in his life does make sense?
After being asleep for four days (four long days) Sarah opens her eyes. Both Winchester brothers are there when she opens her eyes and the reunion is happy and the first thing that's gone right in a long time. She asks about her baby and she and Sam have their first moment as parents and then, when Sam has gone to get some coffee, she turns tired but happy eyes to her brother in law.
''She's...She's beautiful, Dean.''
He arches an eyebrow. ''Who is?''
She smiles slowly. ''The woman who was with Bray.''
His lips twitch and curve into a smile. He hasn't told anyone about Blue. It's the one part of his life that Sam doesn't know. Tilting his head to the side, he grins and looks at her carefully. ''I had a feeling she would be.''
That's when it hits him.
He's falling in love with a ghost.
''The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart.''
-Helen Keller
end chapter nine
AN: Yeah, that's right. I went there. I totally went there. This story just took an interesting turn, didn't it?
