So, I am seriously considering just stopping this story entirely. I don't think I'm feeling it anymore. Would you like me to go on?

wandertogondor

p.s. I know this chapter is pretty...crappy. It's a quick sorry for not updating for a whole month.


"Babe, slow down," Chris chuckled, sitting on the kitchen table. "I'm not going anywhere."

"That hunt was too close, Chris." Max motioned him to pull his shirt off while she ran a needle over a lighter flame. "It's like these vamps are hyped up on acid."

Chris watched her with devoted eyes. She had minor cuts on her clear skin, accompanied by splotches of purple bruises down her neck and arms. Despite these discrepancies, Max Winchester worked with a quick militaristic calmness as she thread the blackened needle. She scanned the deep gash on his upper arm for a second before placing her hand on the throbbing skin.

"It's not that bad," She said in little less than a whisper, her voice laced with indifference.

Chris let a hiss of pain escape between his clenched teeth when she poured alcohol over the ugly wound. Max hesitated, sweeping her troubled eyes up toward his grimacing face. He nodded gently, bracing himself for the feeling of the needle piercing his arm.

"How's your knee?" He asked, trying to take his mind off the pain.

"Hurts like hell, thanks for reminding me."

By now, Chris had gotten used to the notable Winchester sarcasm. "You never told me how it happened."

Max sighed loudly in exhaustion. It was nearly one in the morning and he wanted a story. "I was doing a patrol one night. A tank exploded from an enemy grenade and I caught a piece of it."

Chris felt her fingers graze over his own scar. It wasn't hard for him to recall the force it took for the bullet to rip through his shoulder then lodge itself in his shoulder. Max's eyes fluttered to meet his, a brief flash of familiarity passing her pupils. She tugged at the corner of her mouth, focusing wholly on running the needle snuggly through the wound then broke the thread to secure the knot.

"Max," Chris slid off the table and held his arms out for her embrace but she just limped past him. She gripped the breakfast table till her knuckles turned white.

"Make sure that next time's not this close, Chris," She glanced back at him before going toward the bedroom.

It was late. Chris pulled out his phone to check the time. It was a few hours into November 2nd. That was why she'd been on edge for the last week. It was why she'd disappear into the bathroom for hours at a time with an old metal box filled with smoky smelling pictures.

He entered the bedroom just to see her face curl into a wince as she rotated her knee cap, her teeth grit and her jaw clamped shut.

***Scars of War***

Deacon had always told Max that soldiers don't die, they simply regroup in hell. Her brother's had gone to hell; they've regrouped and refreshed. And Max? She was still due to take a break to see the sights and feel that sweet self-loathing. Life may talk a good game but it's always been the proof of the pudding that took the cake. And sometimes life just wanted to be a total bitch so that everything that could go wrong would go wrong. Just look at what happened to Bobby or Adam. They were all alone in the world. There was no higher power looking out for them.

"Are we there yet?" Max whined childishly, hugging her knees while Sam drove the Charger. "It feels like we've been driving forever."

There was another lapse of silence. She muttered moodily out the window, scratching the back of her neck impulsively.

"'Forever' as in forty-five minutes?" He reached over to pull the ends of her hair. She swatted his hand away.

"My head hurts," Her palm pressed against her throbbing temples. "I don't want to go to Colorado. I just want to wait it out. I don't know, Sam, it's like there's a light at the end of the tunnel."

"That's hellfire, Max,"

She laughed, almost happily. "Screw destiny right in the face. I'm not going to waste your time with all that heart to heart crap. Let's just find some nice cabin near the beach where we can crash under the radar for the next month. Killing God won't stop anything."

"We can try," He suggested with the same amount of sincerity that Max remembered Chris would sometimes use.

Her fingers brushed over her knee where blotches of skin-colored scars were splotched over her knee. It'd healed over the years. It was a slow process but she would never imagine forgetting the war zone.

"Come on, Hercules, I'm serious," Max grinned, jumping slightly in her excitement. "We should break into a cabin and drink all the beer."

"So, you don't want to go get the bullet that can possibly save you and Dean?"

"I don't want to anymore." She let out half a breath. "I've spent all this time being miserable. I don't want to anymore."

***Scars of War***

"I can't believe we're ditching a job for a vacation," Dean muttered under his breath as they entered a lonely cabin near a large lake. He watched Max skip through all the rooms, a wide grin on her face. "I'll have whatever she smoked."

Sam pursed his lips in his girl face and tossed his duffel on a nearby chair.

"This place is awesome!" She bound into the foyer. "There's a bunk bed upstairs. I call dibs on the top bunk."

"Dammit," Dean cursed under his breath, obviously disappointed at loosing the best seat in the house.

"Guys," Sam brought them back to reality. "just remember that we have to stay on the down low. Here," He handed his sister a pain reliever.

"Just one?" She stared down at the pill in her palm incredulously. "Keep 'em coming, Herc. I need four at most,"

"So, you're serious about skipping his job?" Dean asked skeptically, he had never seen Max jumping a hunt.

"Don't get so wound up over spilled milk," She replied, taking a pot of potpourri from the skinny magazine table and taking a sniff. "I'm sure you can go out and capture a wild alligator to regain whatever manliness you lost."

"Thanks," He threw over his shoulder while walking to the fridge. "I'll make sure to get Sam right on that."

Max settled on the couch in front of the dusty television set and hugged a pillow against her body. The entire house smelt like old books and relics of the past. It was intoxicating. There was a loud running sound before Dean rolled over the back of the couch and fell on top of her with two beers in his hand. Immediately, Max was thrown against the far wall while Dean just missed the window.

"Son of a bitch," He groaned when he saw that the beer he had opened for himself had spilled all over the carpet.

"Why the hell would you do that?" Max screamed at him from across the room, half-heartedly trying to pull her wrists from the wall.

"I didn't know you were sitting on the couch."

"Dude, I was sitting right there on the couch. Did you need me to spell it out for you? 'Dear Dean, please don't go full Bernard Pollard or we'll become a wall pancake.' Oh, wait,"

"Really, guys?" Sam threw his arms up at the entrance to the room, rolling his eyes and walking back up the stairs.

"Thanks for the help, jackass," They both shouted behind him, knowing full well that there was nothing that he could have done anyway.

"Settle down," Crowley stood in the middle of the room with a cocky smirk on his face. "How does Jolly Green deal with your constant yabbering?"

Max fell to the ground and sauntered to the middle of the room before plopping on the couch and turning the t.v. on.

"Miss Winchester," The King of Hell leaned his elbows against the back of the couch and brought his head close to hers. "can we talk? In private,"

"Not now, Crowley, The Bold and the Beautiful is on." She didn't even look back, taking a sip of the beer that was still left in the bottle.

"Yeah, man," Dean threw in from the wall. "get lost."

Crowley stood up straight, slowly circling the furniture to stand under Dean's suspended body. "You should probably call your boyfriend. You know, the same guy trying to kill your sister off."

"Crowley, shut up and get out." Max ordered from the couch. "Cas'll get here when he gets here. We don't need you commentating."

Crowley unwillingly disappeared, leaving the two oldest Winchester's in a still room with episodes from the soap opera breaking the silence. And that was all.


The Road So Far...