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Hope you enjoy this chapter!

Goodbye Is Never Forever

Chapter Ten: Truth: The Sad, The Angry, And The Scary

Wilmington, Ohio — Bar — 01:32AM.

Dean weaved his way through the crowded bar, dodging people in his path as he headed towards the only table left available when they had walked in, towards the back of the room. The music was loud, yet not deafening, and the crowd around them was what he assumed his sister would be experiencing had she been truthful about going to California. He sat in the seat opposite her and placed two beers down on the table between them. As Alison reached for her own, he held up a finger, as if in warning, to halt her move. "You do not, under any circumstance, tell mom that I'm letting you drink." he told her seriously, though a hint of amusement played on his face.

Alison found herself laughing at the comment as she took the bottle from him. It wasn't the first time they had drank together, far from it, and she was more than sure their mother knew that, but, as far as he were concerned, he was still the one who allowed her to break the rules, and she was more than fine with keeping it that way. Back when she had been seventeen, it would have been a big deal to her, now, drinking with her brother wasn't so out of the ordinary. "Well, since I'm in California right now touring a college campus and you're not, I don't think there's any reason for suspicion." she remarked.

"College." Dean pondered, and a chuckle escaped him at the idea. "I still can't believe they're actually buying that from you." He shook his head in mock disappointment. "You're awful."

"Hey." She frowned at him, as though offended. "I'm totally smart enough to go to college, why is it so hard to believe? And, besides, I already know how to hunt a ghost, what more could they possibly have to teach me?"

Dean rolled his eyes at the comment. "Ghosts." He contemplated the thought of it all, shaking his head to himself slowly. None of it seemed real, as though it hadn't completely sunk in yet what the two of them had done that night. Sitting there with her, having a beer, that seemed real, but the rest of it could all have been nothing but a dream to him. "So, this...this is what all the lies were about? All this time you've been hunting ghosts?"

"Among other things." she commented, nonchalant. "You see now why I didn't wanna tell you?"

Dean huffed a laugh, taking a drink of his beer. "Yeah, yeah, I, uh, I get it." He nodded. He couldn't even imagine what might have crossed his mind should she have tried to explain it to him the first time he had asked. "All sounds kinda crazy when you say it out loud. Hell, this whole weekend has been nothing but crazy."

Alison nodded in agreement. She took a drink of her own beer, looking away from him for a moment. "Bet you did less fighting in the army than you have with me since you came home." she muttered. It came out as a joke, but he could hear the guilt clearly behind her words. The two of them never disagreed on anything, not seriously, they always had each other's backs, no matter how crazy. The way they had been before he had followed her there just hadn't been them. Before he had arrived home he never could have imagined a situation that could have the two of them arguing and lying the way they had been. It didn't seem plausible. And a part of him felt just as guilty about it all as he knew she did. But they had moved past it, and he refused to dwell on it. It no longer mattered to him, because he knew the truth.

"Hey, we are not in a fight." he told her, his voice dramatically lower, sincere. He needed her to understand that much. "We never, are, not really. I mean, you're a pain in the ass, but, you know I don't hold that against you." he quipped, and she smiled. When she said nothing, he sighed, sitting up a little straighter in his seat. "Look, you gotta understand, kid, the lying, the sneaking around, it's not like you. I mean, now I know what you've been doing, I get it, I really do, but you can't blame me for being curious. I come home and you suddenly wanna go to college? What the hell was I supposed to think? I was worried, Ali, that's the only reason I followed you."

"No, you're right, I get it." She sighed, a little penitent. "You know I'd never keep anything from you, Dean. But, this? There's just no way to explain this to someone, I mean, it's not like I could tell you over the phone, is it? You'd have been on the first flight home."

"You'd have been in a straight jacket before I left the airport." he remarked. His tone was light, playful, and she laughed.

Dean regarded her for a long moment. There was so much of a difference between the way she had been hunting to the way she was there. She was no longer on high alert, she wasn't looking over her shoulder as though she was expecting something to be lurking behind her in the shadows, she wasn't on edge there, she was relaxed, she was even smiling, and she looked more like his sister there than he had seen since he had been home. "Why do you do it, Ali?" he asked, genuinely curious, because he didn't understand. "Why would you want to do something like this?"

Alison shrugged. "Honestly, I've never given it too much thought." she answered, impassive, but he knew that wasn't completely true. His sister was spontaneous, he knew that much, but not to that extent. She had to have thought about it. And, if he knew her as well as he thought he did, there had to be something that kept bringing her back to it. "I know it seems dark, but, I don't know, it's hard to explain."

"Try me." he pressed.

Alison said nothing, picking at the label on her beer bottle for a minute, seeming to contemplate her response seriously. He could see her thinking over her words before she spoke them, trying to put her feelings into a sentence. That's how he knew, it was complicated, and even she didn't fully understand why she was doing what she was. Her green eyes rose to his, and she knew. "You wanna save people, right? I mean, that's why you went out one day and joined the army. That's why you do what you do, isn't it? You take out the people who wanna hurt people. You take out the bad guys to keep the good guys safe. That's all I'm trying to do here, Dean. I wanna save people, too. It's just...I don't know...a different fight to the one you're fighting."

Dean stared at her, trying to take in what she was saying to him. Whatever he had expected her response to be, it hadn't been that. Was she really saying that what he did for a living in any way compared to what he had seen her do that night? In his eyes, the way he saw it, the way he looked at it, he did a job that he had spent months training for. Alison took out things that most people couldn't even begin to imagine were real, and, more than that, she had trained herself to do it. She did it all on her own. She did it for free, purely out of the goodness of her heart. A part of him barely even knew the girl sitting across from him anymore. It was like she lived a double life. He had always known her to be tough, to be strong, to be fearless, to be selfless, but this was in another league.

"Alison," Dean sighed, he didn't want to be the bad guy, he didn't want to be the one who told her what she could and couldn't do, but he knew that there was no one else who could at that point. He was the only one who knew her secret, and it was all in his hands. He was the only one who could do anything about it. "This is dangerous. What you're doing here, it isn't safe, you get that, right?"

Her eyes flickered to him, and her eyebrows raised. "As opposed to being in the army, you mean?"

"That's different, Ali, and you know it." he told her. "I have people watching my back over there. Who's watching yours?"

Alison simply shrugged, she didn't look even remotely concerned by what he was saying. "I'm good at what I do, Dean."

"Hey, I'm not saying that you're not. Hell, I've seen what you can do, I know I couldn't do it, and I can't think of anyone else that could." He sighed heavily, he didn't know how to get through to her. "But, come on, how long do you think you're gonna be able to keep this up? Mom and dad aren't going to buy you going to those college weekends forever, Ali. Sooner or later they're gonna work out that you're sneaking around, and then what? They aren't gonna want you doing this. How would you even begin explaining this to them?"

She thought on his words for a moment and gave another shrug. "I don't know." she admitted. "I guess, I haven't thought that far ahead yet. Just, please, don't tell them."

"Ali," He shook his head, remorseful. He didn't know how to talk her around, whatever she said, she'd sink him, she always did. "If I thought you were safe, you know that I wouldn't." Honestly, he didn't know what to do. He couldn't tell them, he couldn't be the one to turn her in, but he knew he couldn't leave her to continue. If anything happened, how would he ever forgive himself? All of it would be on him, and he couldn't take that. He couldn't live his life knowing that any day could be the day things went wrong for her. "You can't keep doing this, kiddo. What you're doing, it isn't safe, and it isn't fair."

"Isn't fair?" she challenged, defensive. "Which part of this isn't fair?"

"You think I can go back there knowing you're doing this?" he pushed. "You think I can go back knowing that any day could be the day you finally get caught up in that job? I can't go back there and just ignore the fact you're in that much danger every single day, Alison. Think about that for a second, please."

But Alison was silent. For a moment he thought she really was thinking on his words, and he dared to hope that he was getting somewhere, but she looked up to him with tears shining in her eyes. Alison never cried, ever, especially not in a place as busy as that. "Did you really just say that to me?" she asked him, as though betrayed. "I don't believe you."

He frowned, confused. "Wha—"

But Alison was already gone. Before he could even finish, and he was pretty sure before she could burst into tears, she rose from where she sat and headed straight out of the bar, refusing to look back at him. He sighed, shaking his head to himself, he wasn't even sure what he had said to upset her so much. He finished the last of his beer and headed out in the same direction she had gone a moment ago.

As he stepped out into the cool night air he looked around slowly, she really was gone. He pulled a hand down his face and thought, the only place she could have gone in that town was the motel. He contemplated giving her space, because a part of him knew that was what she wanted. She was upset, and he knew it would only make it worse for him to see her like that. The smarter thing to do would be to let her calm down before he tried to talk to her, he knew that, but, at the same time, he couldn't leave his sister to cry alone. He never had been able to. And, with that thought in mind, he headed off in the direction of their motel room.

Wilmington, Ohio — Motel Room — 02:09AM.

The door opened behind Alison, and she closed her eyes for a moment, composing herself. She wiped the tears from her face and turned slowly to face her brother. He stood in the doorway, apprehensive, an apologetic look on his face. But, he realised, she didn't look upset, she looked angry. In fact, she looked downright pissed at him. And he didn't know why.

"Alison—" he tried, but he didn't get the chance.

"You're a real jerk, you know that?" she spoke over him before he had the chance to say anything. "You can't go back knowing that any day could be the day I finally get caught up in the job? You can't take knowing I'm in that much danger every single day? How the hell do you think I feel, Dean?!" she snapped, her voice raised. "How the hell do you think I feel sitting at home every day wondering whether it's going to be the day we get the call to say something happened to you? Huh? How do you think it feels to sit at home watching the news, seeing what's happening over there, seeing how many people get killed over there? How the hell do you think that feels? You do not get the right to play that against me to stop me doing this. I live that fear every single day of my life, Dean. Don't you dare think otherwise."

Dean blinked, hard. And then blinked again, completely taken aback. He opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, at a loss for words. "Ali, I—"

"What you do is dangerous, Dean, and, no matter how many times I try to believe that you meant what you said that day, that goodbye doesn't mean forever, there's always this part of me that doesn't. There's always a part of me that's waiting for that phone call, or that knock on the door. And I am proud of you, please don't get me wrong, I am, but a part of me is terrified of what you do." He simply stood there, he didn't know how to answer. She took a short breath, throwing up her arms in defeat. Her face softened, and she seemed to calm. "You go out there and you risk your life trying to make this world a safer place. That's all I'm trying to do here. I'm trying to help people, save people, the same as you are."

"Ali—"

"Dean—"

"No." He stopped her before she could say anything more. He couldn't let her do it anymore. He had to put a stop to it. And he wasn't about to let her talk him around. In a way, her life could depend upon it, and that was all that concerned him at that point. "What happens to you when something goes wrong, huh? What happens when you sneak off on one of these college weekends and something happens to you? What happens when you don't come home? When you tell mom and dad you're in California and really you're on the other side of the country hunting down a monster, then what? Who's gonna help you then?"

Alison shook her head, but he noticed she didn't look at him. "Nothing is going to happen to me, Dean." she stated simply, but even she didn't sound convinced anymore.

"You don't know that." he countered. "If something happened, if something went wrong, no one would know, Alison. No one would know where you really are, what you've been doing, and that's it. You're just gone. Think about mom, and dad, and Sammy. It would kill them, you know it would."

Slowly, she raised her eyes to find his, and they almost pleaded with her to understand. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying it's time to stop." he told her, stern. He didn't like to do it, but he knew that he had to. "Quit this while you're ahead. Tell mom and dad you've changed your mind on going to college, they never need to know about it, you know I won't say anything, but, please, Alison, please, stop. Before it's too late."

"It's already too late, Dean." she said softly, remorseful. "You just don't understand."

"Then help me understand." he pleaded.

Alison ran a hand down her face, and he could see her trying to hold back her tears. "You think this doesn't scare me, it does. I know it's dangerous, Dean, I know that. I'm not naive, I'm not an idiot, I know how this could end." He frowned, confused. "Believe it or not, there aren't that many people out there stupid enough to do what I've been doing. So, you tell me, what happens when I stop? When I don't take that next hunt, those people die. The next hunt I don't take, those people don't get saved, that monster doesn't get stopped, and I have to live with that."

Dean watched her closely for a moment, he hadn't even thought of it like that. In a way, he understood. No matter what he said, she didn't want to stop, she wouldn't stop. She saw the danger, she knew the consequences, she had done all along. It wasn't the fearless, blind adrenaline run he thought it was. Alison was in too deep, and she didn't know how to get herself out. She was afraid, he could see it in her eyes, he could hear it in her voice, she was struggling, and he didn't know how to help her. He couldn't force her to listen to him. Sooner or later he was going to have to go back, and she was going to be on her own. What was he supposed to do?

"Alison—"

"Can we not?" she asked. "Can we just not talk about this right now? Please?" Dean looked torn. "I know we're not done with this, but, I feel like all we've done since you came home is fight. I can't take another one. Please, can we leave it, just for tonight?"

He contemplated her words, and reluctantly nodded. "Yeah," he agreed. "Yeah, you're right." They weren't going to get anywhere shouting at each other, that much he did know. The truth was, he missed his sister, he had spent so much time missing her, he missed spending time with her, he missed them being the way they had been all their lives. He didn't want to fight with her, not then, not ever. "What about I go and pick up some beers and we watch a movie or something? No ghosts, no army, just us."

She looked up to him with a slight smile and nodded. "Sure. Sounds good."

He turned towards the door, but she took a step forwards and grabbed his sleeve before he could go anywhere. "I'm sorry." He turned with a frown. "For all of it, I'm sorry."

Dean nodded. A slight smile graced his face, and he leaned down and placed a kiss to the top of her head. "Me, too." he said, sincere. "So, the big question, vodka or tequila?"

Wilmington, Ohio — Motel Room — 09:41AM.

It was the morning after the night before, and Alison woke up with a sore head and the familiar feeling of impending sickness in her chest. She rolled over onto her back with a groan and held her hands to her pounding forehead, as though she could will the pain away. Her eyes squeezed closed, and she willed herself back to sleep, sighing, she was far too awake for that now. There was no chance. Hesitant, she pushed herself into a sitting position, and she immediately regretted it. Her body ached, her vision was blurred, and the room was undeniably spinning. It was a harsh reminder of why she had stopped trying to drink with her elder brother, she had never been able to keep up. Her eyes scanned the room, taking in the empty cans and bottles that seemed to cover it. She glanced over towards the other bed, Dean was still sound asleep. She shook her head to herself, a little envious, and reluctantly climbed from beneath the covers. It wasn't going to be a good day.

Slowly, Alison managed to drag her feet towards the bathroom. She looked at her reflection in the large mirror and she contemplated whether she really was going throw up. Turning on the cold faucet, she splashed water over her face in some attempt to numb the pain. She poured herself a glass of water with nothing on her mind but taking a couple of painkillers to halt the throbbing against her skull. But it was as she stepped out of the bathroom that the glass slipped between her fingers, and it smashed hard against the floor at her feet.

The sound of it made her jump. And it seemed to make her brother jump, too, as he shot up in bed, so similar to the way he had done before. She noted the thin sheen of sweat at his brow, how alert he suddenly seemed to be, and it only took one look at him for her to know that he hadn't woken from a peaceful dream. Normally, she would have said nothing, but it wasn't the first time it had happened. How long could she ignore it for?

Dean blinked, hard, taking in the scene before him. And, at that point, he wasn't sure which one of them looked more startled. His sister stared at him from where she remained half crouched to the floor, as if frozen there, and didn't move an inch.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked, a little abrupt. It came out harsher than he had intended, and he immediately regretted it.

Alison opened and closed her mouth, as if struggling for words. "Are you alright?" she asked, tentative, clearly taken aback by his tone.

"What?" He struggled to compose himself, and he sat up a little straighter in bed, pulling a hand roughly down his face. "I'm fine."

Her eyebrows raised, dubious. "Really?"

"I'm fine, Ali." he snapped, and his tone gave away that it wasn't something he wanted to discuss.

Hesitant, she nodded, and she cleared her throat, somewhat awkwardly. "Okay." she muttered. She looked back to the glass on the floor, and, without a word, she began to pick up some of the larger pieces, never looking up at him.

Dean sighed, shaking his head at himself, and climbed from the bed. "Ali, I'm sorry."

"It's fine." she mumbled. He watched her for a moment as she tossed the broken pieces of glass in her hand to the trash and stepped over the rest, obviously intending to finish it later. She walked past him, eyes fixed to the floor, and turned. She had to ask. She knew he didn't want her to, but she had to. "Does that happen a lot?" she pressed. "The nightmares?"

Dean turned to face her, somewhat accusing, and raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't a free pass to talk about it."

"We're not talking about it." she countered. "I asked you a question. It's a simple, yes or no, question."

"It wasn't a nightmare." he told her bluntly, but they both knew that was a lie. And she knew that his attitude was nothing more than him being pissed that she had caught him out on it. "I'm fine. You don't have to worry."

"Dean, come on," she pressed. "After that speech you gave me before we came here about us being close, about keeping secrets, what is it?"

"Nothing." he retorted, his temper clearly short. "It's just, I don't know," He sighed, defeated. He wasn't going to lie to her. What was the point? She was right, they were closer than that. "It's hard to explain."

Dean looked on at her for a long moment, and he could see the concern shining in her green eyes, fixed solely on him. She had seen it twice now, maybe more for all he knew. She was worried, she was scared, and there was only one thing on her mind at that point, she was afraid that he had seen something horrible, or that something horrible had happened to him. But he couldn't talk to her about his time away, and a part of her understood that, he could see it in her face. He could read her like a book, but she could read him, too. And she knew when it was time to take a step back.

"Look, I'm sorry." She offered an apologetic smile. "You don't have to tell me anything. Just, are you sure you're alright?"

"I'm alright." he assured, his tone softer. "You just, you see things, you know? Things that are hard to let go of. I can't make you understand."

And then something hit him, like a punch to the face. Just two days earlier she had said the exact same thing to him. She had told him there was something she couldn't make him understand, and yet, there he was. He had seen it with her, he had been through it with her, and he understood something he never thought he would. Alison had shared something she never thought she could. Maybe, if there was anybody in that world with him who he could make understand, it was her. He knew it was her. It always was.

But it was more than that. Did he want her to know? Could he really sit there and tell her everything? Was she the one he wanted to unload everything on? Because, he knew, nothing would ever be the same between them again. Until the previous night, he had never realised just how much she had struggled with him being away, with him doing what he did. He had never known how much it had truly scared her when he had left. And telling her the truth was only going to make things worse. Could he really do that to her?

As though she could see the thoughts swimming uncontrollability around his mind, Alison took a seat on the edge of one of the beds, looking up at him patiently. He glanced down, and their eyes met. He knew he had to talk about it eventually, he just hadn't known how. He couldn't carry it around with him forever. He needed to talk about it. He needed someone to understand how he felt. And she was more than willing to do that. She always had been.

With a sigh, Dean dropped down to sit on the other bed, facing her. His eyes were fixed to the old carpet between their feet, and she could see him struggling to find the words to begin. "There was a guy. Danny." he said, his voice was soft, distant, and his mind was clearly anywhere but in that motel. "He, uh, he shared our room over there. Same age as me, you know? Nice guy. It was his first tour, too. We got pretty close, in the end he was kinda like a brother to me. He reminded me a lot of Sam. He had a little sister, Kate, year younger than you are, he missed her like hell, talked about her all the time." There was a soft smile on his face, but she didn't miss the sadness that shone in his eyes. "And, just for the record, I'm not the only guy who ever put a kid in hospital for looking at his sister the wrong way."

Alison huffed a laugh, smiling to herself. "So, what happened?" she asked, a little cautious, because she knew it wasn't going to be good.

"We were out on day, and, uh," He paused for a moment, shaking his head slowly. "I got shot."

Her eyes widened. "You what?!"

Dean flinched at her reaction. It had been the exact reason he hadn't wanted to tell her anything. He chanced looking up at her, and, no surprise to him, she looked horrified. "Yeah," He cleared his throat. "I got shot." Almost reluctant, he pulled up the bottom of his sweatpants to show her the scar on the side of his calve, still red, still noticeable, and offered a shrug. It wasn't bad, but it was enough.

"Dean," Alison looked to him, her eyes pleading for some kind of an explanation. He barely even recognised the look on her face. If she had been afraid of what he did before, he hated to think what was going through her head now. Telling her that was going to change everything, and a part of him regretted even opening his mouth. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"And what would you have done, huh?" he challenged. "How was I supposed to tell you that? Where I was," He stopped, running a hand through his hair, he couldn't even think about it. "I couldn't tell you something like that over the phone, not a chance. I know you, Ali, you would've freaked. Mom would've freaked. Truth is, I didn't want you to know, that's why I asked them not to call home." She looked up at him, and for a second he could've sworn she looked offended, even betrayed. "You were already scared, kid. I could hear it in your voice every time you called. I couldn't tell you."

Alison said nothing for a few seconds, and he could see her trying to process it all. She wasn't sure she wanted to know anything else, but she had to, she knew that. "How did it happen?"

Dean shrugged. "It just...happened." he muttered. "Came out of nowhere. Danny came back for me, I was alright, but, he pulled me up, said we had to go, we turned around and..." He paused, shaking his head to himself. "And he got shot, in the neck."

Alison remained silent for a minute, he didn't look up at her, he wasn't sure that he could. His eyes remained focused on the floor, as though he didn't dare to look anywhere else. He heard her stand from where she was sitting in front of him, and he felt the bed dip beside him slightly as she sat down again. "I'm so sorry, Dean." she said softly. Her hand rested gently to the middle of his back, and he could tell that she was lost for words.

It was only when he finally looked up at her again that she realised just how much it hurt. There were tears shining in his eyes, threatening to fall, and the pain she saw in them was nothing she had ever seen before in her brother. A part of her knew it ran deeper than what he was telling her, that it was probably so much worse than he had told her, but, truthfully, she had never wanted to accept that. "I tried, Ali. I tried to help him, I did, but...he didn't make it." He cleared his throat, composing himself a little. "You know, there was just this moment, he looked up at me and I knew...I knew I couldn't help him, he knew it, we all did. By the time we'd dragged him back to the truck he was dead. You know, I think about his kid sister every single day. I think, you know, maybe if I'd have turned around a second earlier I wouldn't have been hit, and he wouldn't have come back for me, and he'd still be alive."

"Dean—" He heard her voice falter the slightest bit, and, as he looked up at her, he saw the tears in her eyes as she listened to him. She stood from the bed and took a step away from him, shaking her head. She turned, a hand pressed to her mouth, and all of a sudden she seemed to look so horrified, guilty, even, holding the tears back with everything she had in her. For a moment he considered whether it was just her, and the compassion and empathy she had, but somehow it seemed much more than that. "Dean, I'm so sorry."

He frowned a little, taken aback by the look on her face. He didn't understand. "What do you have to be sorry for?"

"You came home from that, and I have you doing this?" She looked so sorry, so ashamed, so disappointed in herself. "Oh my god, Dean, I've made your life hell since you came back here. I—"

"Hey." Dean stopped her before she could say anything more. He shook his head and stood to face her, a slight smile on his face. "Look, as weird as this is, and as crazy as all of this was, I've actually had a pretty good weekend." he said, his words were genuine, sincere, and he truly meant them. "We always said when I came home we'd take a road trip, do something crazy, right?"

"Yeah," Alison scoffed. "Like Disney Land, not ghost hunting."

Dean chuckled. "Well, I guess this can be our Disney Land." He smiled down at her, resting a hand to one of her shoulders. "Look, I mean it, Ali, it's been good to finally spend some time with you again. And, I know we don't do a whole lot of the feelings thing, but I really did miss you. You make everything better, kiddo."

Alison stepped towards him, and he pulled her into a tight hug. "I missed you, too, Dean."