Chapter 10
He wasn't feeling cold.
Not anymore.
And he wasn't in pain. And that was such a strange feeling. Ever since he had woken up in that field, all he had done was run, hurt and suffer. It had been only a few days but they felt like years. All hours and days blended together into one long nightmare. He didn't have a moment's peace; ghosts, demons and witches always lingered around him but none dared come closer.
None, but him.
And her.
He had felt her once in the hospital. He had felt her power and the vengeance, but only a small piece of it. In his mind, he didn't know who she was or what she really wanted. But in his heart, he knew he had heard of her before. He had dealt with her in a way. If only he could remember.
When he tried thinking back, before his field awakening, his head hurt unbearably, to the point of passing out.
And he had other more pressing matters to deal with.
He let the warmth spread through his body and his muscles relax. The heating source was not far and the covers provided a familiar but almost forgotten sense of comfort and safety. The crackling sound reaching his ears meant that the source was most likely burning wood in a fire place.
But the room was otherwise silent.
Too quiet.
He remembered facing the bleeding man out there. He had taken him…
No… saved him…
from the hospital all the way to this snowed mountain. But then something incredible had happened. The demon had begun to change. His face was more grotesque than ever but his voice was different and its effect on Dean was more powerful than the visual. Upon hearing these three words, something had snapped inside him, almost awakened. He had realized that this was the one he was looking for, the one he was supposed to find; but wasn't it the same being who had terrified him for days?
Wasn't he?
Dean knew he was supposed to be afraid of him and he had been, up until Abigail and that terrible man had come, bringing him a new kind of pain, one from which his mind could not escape or ignore.
But then his entire mind and universe had shifted. It had felt like there were two different worlds colliding.
One he could see and one he could feel.
And both were equally exhilarating and horrible.
But the strangest thing of all was how he felt. Lying in that place, in warmth and in silence, he felt comfortable and at peace. He still didn't dare open his eyes in case this was a dream. It had happened before. But tonight, making the decision to keep them closed and follow his heart, felt like the right thing to do; like the best thing he had done so far.
And the arms around him felt right; they felt like they belonged there.
He didn't want to open his eyes because he felt safe. Those arms were still around him and a soft breath was coming from behind him, steady and soothing.
"I know you are awake" he heard another voice whispering. This was a familiar, kind voice, one his heart told him to trust. A warm hand touched his forehead, fingers moving strands of hair. For some reason, unknown to Dean, he opened his eyes.
"I'm not going to hurt you" he whispered and smiled. The man had long, dark hair and looked lean, agile and kind.
"I know" Dean rasped almost inaudibly.
Seth looked surprised at the calmness he was being met with. His eyes darted to Roman who had woken up and somehow managed to stay calm and unmoving, just waiting, almost holding his breath.
"How do you know?" Seth asked calmly.
Dean remained silent for a few seconds, then turned around and looked at Roman straight in the eyes; and took him by surprise.
"I feel it"
Roman felt his breathing gain speed upon that gaze.
But still, there was a hint o fear and those eyes.
"Do you know who we are?" Rollins continued in the same gentle tone.
"No" he looked back at him.
"Do you remember who you are?"
At that Dean lowered his eyes. It was as if he was ashamed. He didn't say anything out loud but it was pretty clear that his memory had been wiped clean.
"It's ok"
Seth helped him sit up on the couch. The orange hue the fire was shedding on the walls and the two candles that were burning on the coffee table, cast long shadows but Dean didn't seem to mind. His unwillingness to detach himself from Roman however didn't go unnoticed.
"Your name is Dean Ambrose and we are your friends. We are the closest thing you have of a family… I am Seth Rollins and the big guy here is Roman Reigns."
Once again Dean looked at the Samoan. The same hint of fear was making his eyes shine just a little brighter and he couldn't tell if Dean was squeezing his hand because of that fear or determination. At this point, he really couldn't tell the difference between the two.
"Thank you" he finally said "I feel like I should know you and I feel like I can trust you"
"Dean…" it was Roman's turn to avert his eyes "back at the hospital, why did you react like that when you saw me?"
Dean paused. There was no way of saying anything without sounding like a complete lunatic.
"I woke up in a field… alone… I had no memory … nothing but them…"
"Them?" Seth came closer and sat down on the floor.
"There were always voices, screams, cries, shadows… always there, all around me like mist. But they kept their distance. None came close… save one…"
He looked deep into his eyes and Roman flinched.
"Me?"
"At first it was more of a feeling; a sense of emergency and flight. Then it became desperation. I had to find you but I didn't know who you were. Then you…"
Hesitation? Shame?
"He… came" Dean continued looking at the flames in the fire place. "He was real and he looked so much like you… in a way I guess, he was you… part of you. But he was not you at the same time. And he hurt me so… so much… and for so long… it was then I started losing time… each one longer than the previous and each time I came back, you… he… he was there… each time he would hurt me more"
"Dean, I would never hurt you"
"I know" he cut him off and untangled his hand from Roman's, distancing himself further away to the end of the couch. "But you have to understand something… while my ears and my heart tells me to trust you, when I look at you all I see is the one who hurt me… the bleeding man"
"You have said that name before" Seth noted
A nod.
"That's what I call him"
Roman looked so hurt, crushed.
"I'm sorry" he managed to mutter and went to stand up but Dean's hand snapped and grabbed his wrist, gently pulling him back down.
"No, I'm sorry. I am thankful that you saved me. It doesn't matter what you look like in my eyes. It has taken me a while to understand that you are not the same demon. He was imitating you to get to me."
"Why? What does he want" Seth looked at Roman alarmed.
"Probably the same thing Abigail wants"
"Abigail?" that familiar name still felt like punch in the gut to Roman.
"The tall man we saw exiting the hospital… he had visited me before. He told me about her… and then she came."
"What do you mean?"
"She came in the hospital. I couldn't see her but I could feel her. She wanted revenge… death for all… but then, you…" he looked at Roman, "you chased her away. As soon as you came in the room, she left me alone"
"So where does Drew fit into all this?" Seth asked perplexed.
"The tall guy at the hospital? You know him?"
"Yes, from work. You used to know him too"
"Abigail sent him for me but I don't really know what for"
"I do" Roman said somberly. "Revenge"
"For what?" the innocence with which the question was asked was hopeless.
Roman looked at Seth who only nodded back. It was dangerous what Roman was proposing and they didn't know if it was the right thing to do, how Dean would react or even if his mind would be able to handle it.
If Drew was coming for them, he had to know.
And if Abigail was with him, Dean would need to gain his memories back.
"For something we did three years ago"
. . .
The days were short and the sun had set behind the mountain a long time ago. The wind outside had picked up pace. Soon it became a raging snow storm. The howling wind seemed to engulf the cabin, which despite the velocity and force of the blizzard, stood firm and unmoving.
Inside its walls where three souls, each one more lost than the other, but all equally clueless, grasping at straws at trying to put together a puzzle with half the pieces. They were trying desperately to understand what was happening by recounting events that had taken place three years ago.
The flames in the fire place were kept alive by logs of wood tossed when necessary. The once comforting crackling sound and warmth did nothing to ease their spirits anymore. Roman had been telling the story holding nothing back; he recounted all the events that lead to Dean becoming the guardian.
Every gruesome detail.
He had paused every so often to let the words sink in but Dean showed no sign of reaction. His eyes were transfixed on the orange flames and the red hot coals. He suddenly felt very cold and very sad.
"It's my fault" he mumbled once Roman had finished his narration.
"What? No!" Seth exclaimed and reached out to take Dean's hand in comfort. But he recoiled and that stopped him dead on his tracks.
But was more surprising was the look on his face; a strange mixture of pain, anger and something else that Seth couldn't identify.
But Roman could. He had seen it before, in the hospital.
Dean was losing control. He could almost see the mental progress they had made so far, crumbling down like a house of cards.
Telling him the story might have been a mistake. Dean was too fragile to handle that responsibility. Between fast, sharp breaths and gritted teeth, Dean stood up and distanced himself from his two friends, putting them actively on high alert. Still he didn't turn his back to them. His eyes darkened and maniacally looked around.
They didn't dare move towards him.
Dean brought his shaking fists up to his temples and started hitting. The blows were light but there was no doubt they would soon escalate and draw blood.
"It's my fault" his rough voce broke.
"It's not! Please stop hitting yourself" Roman pleaded.
"No!" Dean screamed angrily "Two people died because of me! Because of who I am! And I can't even remember any of it!" He paused, letting his knuckles rub against his temples' skin forcefully. A grimace spread across his face.
The headaches were back.
And the voices.
"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!"
Seth looked at Roman, scared of what he was seeing.
They were so wrong! And so tragically unqualified to deal with this.
'Hardy would have known what to do'
But Matt Hardy couldn't help them… He had died three years ago.
Roman wanted to take a step closer but he was afraid of making things worse.
Because Dean was hearing the damned voices again. And judging from his sharp gesturing and the shaking muscles they were angry and too close to him.
"Dean… please listen to me… listen to my voice… it wasn't you fault, any of it" maybe Roman's voice would bring him back again.
"No!" Dean's scream covered the terrible howling of the blizzard. "they're dead!"
Suddenly he stopped everything. No more shaking, no more twitching, hitting or rubbing. It was as if a lightning had struck him. He looked at the two men standing in front of him and his eyes changed from demented to sad.
"And you will be dead" his voice was ice cold. "And I'm sorry, I can't let that happen to you"
It was like a wave of calmness and serenity had washed away all his agony and fear.
And without hesitation, without allowing any time for his words to sink in, he opened the front door and ran away into the freezing cold.
"Dean! No!" Roman screamed and darted after him, with Seth in tow. But it was too late.
The blizzard and the starless night had already swallowed Dean whole. The wind blew fiercely between the trees and the mountain rocks, covering the sound of Dean's shoeless feet as they sunk in the snow. His skin was covered with nothing but a thin layer of clothing and the t-shirt and sweatpants provided little warmth.
But it didn't matter. All that mattered was getting away from them; keeping them safe by putting as much distance between them and him.
They had already risked too much.
They had given up even more.
And all he did was run; even after his lungs started burning and his feet went numb.
He kept running even when the shadows crawled to him from the darkness and the screams covered the noise of the snow storm. With every step further away he took, the louder they became. And with every loud pant he breathed, the more pain they caused him.
Running blindly into the night made sense to him. It felt like the worst and best thing he had done so far.
Worse because it would probably lead him to his death.
Best because it meant it would keep them safe.
Then the wind ceased and the snow stopped falling but Dean's ears adjusted too late to the sound of a different kind of whistling.
The contact was violent, sudden and bloody; and it took away whatever little breath he had left.
The silver arrow pierced his right chest and its tip came out the shoulder blade, throwing him on his back.
Red sipped out and the once pure white was now tainted and rotting.
"It ends tonight"
. . .
"Roman" Seth pilled him in the midst of the roaring wind.
"No! I have to find him. He can't go out there… he'll freeze to death"
Still Seth held him back.
"We're not going to find him in this weather, not like this. We'll freeze to death too. Let's go back inside and get at least out coats, flashlights… come on" he pleased desperately.
Roman knew he was right because he was close to freezing himself. He didn't want to think how cold Dean would be.
Hastily they entered the cabin. While Seth was looking for a flashlight, Roman went into the kitchen.
He looked around. There, at the table lay a big kitchen knife. He took it in his hands and weighed it.
'Maybe it'll come in handy'
However a memory surfaced that made him stop and think about it twice. Dean had grown up on the wrong side of the tracks, as he called it, and one time during a semi drunk conversation, he had told Roman that he never used to carry any weapons with him.
'Because if you carry one, eventually you're going to use it. And I wasn't ready for that kind of responsibility or guilt. Still am not."
As he looked down on the ragged edged, rusted long knife, Roman wondered if he was ready for that too. Take a life. Slip that blade into the soft flesh of another human being and let all that hot, thick, sticky blood stain his hands.
Forever.
But what was the alternative? Don't take the knife? What if he should need it? What if Dean's life depends on it? Roman gripped the handle tighter, a sense of urgency resurfacing, filling him with dread. He placed the knife in his jacket pocket but as he went to leave, the sight of an old axe propped against the wooden wall caught his eye.
'Fuck'
"What?" Seth standing at the kitchen doorway made him jump. He followed Roman's gaze to the axe.
"Well? What are we waiting for? Grab it and let's go"
That push was all he needed. He quickly grabbed to axe and followed Seth outside.
The blizzard had thankfully stopped abut an eerie silence crept up around them. They took a few steps toward the tree line. After that, the darkness looked like a black hole ready to devour them. Before advancing Roman handed Seth the knife.
"Just in case" and Rollins nodded.
For a while all they could hear was the sound of their boots on the fresh snow, and their breaths that came out in plumes of white clouds.
"Dean!" Seth yelled, hoping to get a response, but not expecting one really.
Nothing.
With every step they took, a feeling of danger grew in their hearts. Soon though those steps brought them to a small clearing. The snow there was flat, with signs of footsteps and more disturbingly, big spots of blood that lead further into the woods. They approached the blood stains as the grips around their weapons tightened. The blood was still warm to the touch as Roman dipped his finger in it. He waved at Seth to move forward but a voice echoing through the darkness made them halt.
"Not another step!"
The man that accompanied the familiar voice appeared from the shadows but he was not alone.
"Oh my God!" Seth breathed.
"Dean" the name escaped Roman's lips and the axe fell soundlessly on the snow.
. . .
Let's go into bed Please put me to bed
And turn down the light
Fold out your hands
Give me a sign
Hold down your lies
Lay down next to me
Don't listen when I scream
Bury your thoughts (doubts)
And fall asleep
Find out
I was just a bad dream
Let the bed sheet
Soak up my tears
And watch the only way out disappear
Don't tell me why
Kiss me goodbye
For Neither ever, nor never
Goodbye
Neither ever, nor never
Goodbye
Neither ever, nor never
Goodbye
Goodbye
-Apparat:Goodbye-