Harvelle Supernatural

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural

Chapter 10: No Rest for the Wicked

Skylar's POV

May 4, 2008, that was when I got the phone call from Bobby. I was in my dorm study for upcoming exams. The past few weeks were brutal of finishing this semester's portfolio. Now it was time to study for upcoming exams. So after classes, I would be in the library or my room cramming to a point my brain hurts. However, that wasn't the only thing. I was distracting myself for the past seventy-two hours since Dean Winchesters contract expires. And last night at midnight, I felt something like I never felt before. A jab and scratches all over my body.

I jumped out of my chair ripping my clothes off to find scratches all over me. I panicked at the sight of bright red lines, like the media version interpretation of a demon attacking its victims. When Cheryl came into the room, the scratches vanished. After Cheryl left to meet up with her date, I scavenged the entire dorm room searched for a damn hex bag or cursed object. Except after trashing a place as the whole, I found nothing. What the hell?

And now here I am; in my dorm concentrating on my textbooks, failing miserably when the cell phone is right there. I grabbed my cell phone unlocked it, a second later it rang. The past twenty-four hours these strange things have been happening to me. Like I know things are going to happen before they do, but not in vision, but instincts and markings.

Back to the phone call, "Bobby?"

"Skylar…" Bobby started but couldn't finish.

"Dean's dead, isn't he?" I finished.

"Yes," Bobby sighed.

"I'll inform Ellen and Jo," I murmured. "How's Sam?"

". . . He's not doing well. After burying Dean, he just ran off." Bobby said. "Can you try to contact him or keep an eye out?"

"Sure, Bobby," I said. "And Bobby . . ."

"Yeah," Bobby said.

"Never mind," I said. "Thanks for the update."

"Uh, very well, good luck at college, kid," Bobby said then hung up.

I ended the call looking at the paper in front of me. A picture I took on a Polaroid of myself yesterday. My face seemed reasonable, though my eyes seemed sharper. This summer mom and Jo are going to come over for a visit so that we could spend time together. I need to ask Ellen if she knows anything about this. If this was family or . . . Demonic?

.o0o.

Two weeks later.

Exams were almost over, leaving one final before the end of the semester. Fortunately, it is a project for graphic arts. A teamwork project with one group on a movie assignment. I've seen the film that was good; now it's my turn to work on the poster. So after finishing my exams, I spent the entire day on my project of a horror film. I honestly hated this assignment, instead, do some cheesy romantic comedy than this. But the group saw my dark photography and wanted me to do the photo-shoot. So now I am altering the image of a girl drenched to the bone wearing a tattered dress. The movie was a paranormal flick, a found-footage genre. So I have been trying to photoshop the image to appear frightening.

I sighed, zooming into the eyes to change the pupils into a different color. I was in a zone, that's when I finished, the entire eye was black.

"Fuck!" I yelled, undoing it. "God, I hate demons."

I grabbed my cellphone unlocking it then it rang rings. Caller I.D. being Sam. Quickly I accepted the call, "Sam?"

"Sky," Sam said. He sounded different, almost intoxicated and in pain. "I need you to help me."

"What? Sam, where are you?" I asked.

"In Nebraska," Sam mumbled.

"When did you get here?" I asked.

"Yesterday," he answered, before giving a small sob. "Sky, please."

"Okay, just give me the address…" I said, saving my project and wrote the address down. After he called, I told him to stay where he was. With that said, I packed some clothes in a backpack follow by my laptop. I left Cheryl a note saying I would be gone and inform Derik I'll email him the poster sometime next week.

Sam was a top priority now. Two weeks of no contact since Dean's death. Whatever happened to him afterward is unknown until now. So dropping everything and drove to the location where Sam was. Three hours later, I ended up outside a motel seeing the Impala parked. Parking my car next to the Impala, I got out and went to room 13 on the second floor, running in the rain. I pounded on the door begging for Sam to be okay.

The door swung open to see Sam intoxicated, "Sky-lar."

"Yeah, Sam, it's me," I said.

Next thing I'm greeted is a splash of holy water. I stood there drenched to the core from holy water and the rain. Sam stood there; eyes widen to realized that I am not a damn demon. Taking a deep breath, I marched into the room finding bottles of whiskeys, maps with locations of crossroads, Dean's signature jacket on the second bed, and the medallion.

"Oh god, Sam," I said turning around to face him.

The sight was painful. Sam stood there head down. He looked like hell. His clothes were dirty covered in blood, dirt, and vomit. His skin all scratched up, his knuckles cracked. Hair practically oily and bruising under his eyes as if he hasn't slept for days. Walking over, I took his hand cautiously leading him to the bed. Once we sat down, I embraced him in a hug rubbing his back. Just then and there he broke down crying.

Time went by; no words could be said after that. Sam mourned for his loss while I soothed him, rubbing his back holding him close. No one could understand a hunter's life. How the death of a loved one fuel the flame. But to witness the death or being the one to killing the loved one . . . It's painful.

After a few hours, Sam fell asleep. I sighed maneuvering him so he could lie on the bed. Once he is tucked in, I started cleaning up the place, getting rid of all the alcohol, organize documents, and pitched the bottles. Next, I reached my phone dialing home base.

"Yeah?" Bobby answered tiredly.

"Yeah, Bobby, it's Skylar," I said quietly.

"Skylar, do ya know what time it is?" He asked to follow a yawned.

I looked over to the end table to find the digital clock saying 1: 49 am. "Sorry, Bobby lost track of time."

"No problem, what can I do for ya?" He said. "I doubt I can help you with your homework unless it' Japanese or hunting."

I chuckled, "No, I . . . um, I'm just letting you know I'm with Sam."

". . . How is he?" Bobby asked.

"Worse for ware, if not drunk," I answered. "He's asleep now."

"Anything else?" Bobby continued.

I stared at the maps and circled crossroads. All over the crossroads had X's. I could only assume failed attempts at making a deal with a crossroads demon. Let alone the dagger on the table covered in blood. Going with my gut feeling, I answered, "Just desperation and failed."

Bobby sighed on the other end, "See if you can cheer him up. He's gonna need all the help he can get."

"Okay," I sighed. "I'll keep you updated."

"Night Skylar," he said.

"G'night, Bobby," I said, hanging up.

Hanging up, I locked the doors and doubled check the salt barriers before arranging the couch. I grabbed a spare pillow and blanket from the closet before lying down and going to sleep.

Five hours later I was awoken by an all familiar sound. Waking up to find the bed empty along with the bathroom door open, I got up and went to the small kitchen taking a dishrag drenched in cold water. Next went to the bathroom finding Sam vomiting in the toilet and came up behind him place the wet ran on his neck. Sam flinched grabbing my arm, turning his head to see me. It took him a moment to remember before returning to the head pukes.

I sighed, standing right behind him making sure he was okay. Once he was done, I grabbed a paper cup filled it with water and handed it to him. He gladly accepted it drenching it down. Afterward, we stayed in the bathroom, him sitting on the tile floor while I leaned against the door watching him. This was pitiful, let alone painful. The past few years of knowing Sam to be a keen hunter now crumbles.

Several minutes go by with nothing said. The tensions being uncomfortable, I spoke, "You were hunting crossroads demons . . . weren't you."

Sam nodded his head, looking down ashamed. "Yeah."

"What else have you done?" I demanded.

"I tried opening the Devil's Gate. Hell, I tried to bargain, Skylar, but no demon would deal." Sam listed. He smacked his hand on the tile. "Dean's rotting in hell . . . and I couldn't stop it."

"Sam," I sighed, sitting down and took his hand. "Dean wouldn't want ya to do that."

"I know . . . but it's my fault." Sam choked.

"No, it's not," I said. "This isn't your fault, and no one is blaming you. You got to understand-"

"But Dean," Sam interrupted.

"Dean chose his fate," I said. "He had chosen to protect you no matter the cost. Don't let his death be in vain."

"I can't," Sam cried, his eyes becoming watery close to tears. "I can't."

I took a deep breath, "Maybe not right now, maybe never, but someday Dean may come out as your dad did, or sheer luck." I cradled his face so he could look at me. "This is how it's gonna go. You're gonna mourn, you're gonna hate yourself, drown your sorrows in alcohol, find what you can, and etcetera. But somehow along this journey, you'll move on. You'll continue to be a hunter or go back to normal, either way; you'll pass through this."

"I don't want to be alone anymore," Sam mumbled.

"And you're not," I said. "You got Bobby, Ellen, Jo, and . . . Me. We'll help you through this. Just remember you're not alone."

Sam sat there in a daze comprehending what I just said. After some time he nodded. Smiling a little, I kissed his forehead and instructed he take a shower and freshen up. Like a zombie, Sam did as I asked while I left the bathroom to fetch him fresh clothes. As he showered, changed into clean clothes, suddenly the door opens as Sam came out. I was in my underwear just finishing putting on a bra. Hearing the door open to see Sam in jean staring at me full eye. His eyes ogled from my face down to my feet, then back up stopping at my waist.

"Sky..." Sam said.

I covered my hip where a tattoo of the anti-possession charm symbol was. "It's just a tattoo."

"Is there more?" He asked.

"Sam," I chuckled nervously and then sighed. "I didn't feel safe one time and took to the next level of protection. Just, don't tell my mom. She's not a huge fan of ink."

"Sure," Sam chuckled.

Rolling my eyes, I finished getting dress then headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth and hair. It's kinda ironic that I am insecure about my tattoo than the fact that Sam saw me in my undergarments. Probably because he saw in my bra and Underwear back in Springfield also the mishap of him walking into the bathroom while I was in the shower. Luckily the shower glass was opaque.

Anyway, once we were dress and ready, I took drove us to the nearest diner for breakfast. Sam cringed in the bright summer sun of Nebraska. Still, have a hangover, I handed him my sunglasses. He muttered thanks were putting them on. My goal is simple, get Sam on his feet again and limit his consumption of alcohol. It would be hard, yet I have faith in him. We'll just take this one step at a time.

.o0o.

The next few days were a battle. Sam dealt with the withdrawal from his addiction to alcohol, but I managed to limit his drinking. On the second day, after breakfast, we mainly drove around Nebraska as I took him to areas I went to clear my head. There I took pictures while he either sat on the bench looking or in the car asleep. On the third day, we tow the Impala back to my car to Peru, dropping my vehicles and got supplies for our journey. On day four was nothing but constant driving in Nebraska, radio playing modern music, while none of us say a word.

Sometimes we stopped at tourist destinations or town to stretch out legs. Other times we just sit in the Impala eating a cheap meal. Either way, Sam remained in the passenger seat mourning while I sat there to lend a hand.

On the fifth day, I was furious. We were staying the night at a motel. At first, it was the usual habit, Sam laying on one of the beds reading John's journal trying to figure out a way to free Sam or on his laptop. Meanwhile, I work on my project. Time went on as nothing happened; not realizing Sam left the room. When I clicked send to Derik of the poster, did I realize he was gone? Panicked, I searched for the keys, lucky to find them still in my purse. But where did he go?

Grabbing my purse, I ran out of the motel searching around town to find Sam. All over I looked from street to street, even pubs, until spotting him enter a liquored store. Furious I marched over to him, seeing Sam grabbing bottles of whiskey and taking it to the cash register.

"Sam," I yelled.

Sam cursed turning around to see me. "Skylar, I can explain."

"No, you just blew it," I said.

I grabbed him, apologizing to the cashier before we went. It took a lot of effort, but I managed to Sam to the Impala. Once he was secured, I got in the passenger seat driving. So furious, I ignored Sam excuses, yells, and drunken rants.

"Why do you even bother saving me if I don't want to be saved?" Sam yelled.

"Because that's what friends do," I said.

"Then help me save Dean," he said.

"You know I can't do that," I said. "Hell, I don't even know how."

"What's the point then," He yelled, slamming his fist into the armrest. "You don't know how it feels."

"Yes, I do," I said.

"No you fucking don't, you haven't lost a brother or your entire family." He spat.

That struck a nerve. I slammed the brakes stopping in the middle of the road. Instantly Sam lunged forward; luckily the seatbelt saved him from a head smash to the dashboard. Not saying a word, I made a K-turn going the opposite direction from where we are going. At first, this was going to be a secondary drive to a precise point, but now things just got personal.

"Where are we going?" Sam demanded.

"Home," I hissed.

"What home? None of us has a home." Sam muttered.

"Just shut up!" I snapped.

Sam instantly shut up after that. Good, because I'm furious beyond belief right now. And nothing he said could solve it. An hour later we were out on the open road on a forgotten route. Halfway through the road, I parked at an abandon gravel lot. There was nothing here, only gravel pavement, piles of debris, and a trailer that was cover in graffiti from travelers or biker gangs. I got out of the car, walking over to the passenger side, opening the door.

Sam got out looking confused, "Where are we?"

"Think," I said.

Sam walked over to the debris. He stumbled tripping over a prick, yet managed to catch himself. He walked more till reaching a small pile of dead flowers on several crosses. Sam knelt down reading the worn out papers and rusted plaques of people who died here. After a few minutes, he got up staring at me.

"The Roadhouse?" He asked.

"Yes, Harvelle's Roadhouse," I said, leaning on the hood of the impala arms crossed.

"What happened?" He asked.

"After the demons burned this place to the ground, the hunter community came over to collect the bodies and brought them home. Then the state had the Roadhouse bulldoze for safety regulation. It was two weeks after Devil's Gate did Ellen get the call to claim Ash's body. He died here having no family to claim him. The only family he had was Ellen, Jo, and I. Ash was like an older brother to me, and he died right where you're standing.

Five years he called this place home. Having Jo and I like sisters. When this place was on fire, I heard Ash screamed to his death. I watched this place burned, and a lot of good hunters died here. I have damn nightmares of that night to this day. " I said, holding back tears. "Don't you dare say I don't feel your pain, Sam Winchester! I had lost my dad, Ash, and now Dean. So grow up and get on with your life. Not Dean or Ash would want to see you like this."

Tensions grew high among us. We stood there in some western standoff, only weren't waiting who will pull the trigger, but who is going to talk. Unable to take the dominance, I walked over to Ash's memorial. I knelt down, dusting off the dirt on the plaque of the names of hunters who died. Ash's name is the first on the plaque. A tear fell in seeing his name.

.o0o.

Sam and I ate dinner are a bar. None of us spoke a word after the Roadhouse. Probably because of our fight and scare tactic went wrong. Being generous, I let Sam have a beer, which he drank instantly. Meanwhile, I had a cape cod. We just ate our greasy food and drank light.

"I'm sorry," Sam finally said.

"He speaks," I sarcastically said.

"Skylar, I mean it." Sam murmured. "I shouldn't have said that."

I sighed, "Sam, I worry about you all the time. I fear someday a demon or whatnot is gonna kill you and destroy your soul. I may not be a hunter, but I know the dangers out there. And the last thing I want is getting a phone call from Bobby saying you're dead."

Sam didn't reply to that. Taking a deep breath, I grabbed his hand squeezing it. "We'll get through this, together."

Sam nodded squeezing my hand. Thinking we both having a bad day, I got up going to the bar. I order a bottle of tequila, two shot glasses, salt, and a lime. Sam looked confused as I brought the tray over.

"What are ya doing?" he asked.

"We're going to have an old fashion hunter's salute," I answered. "A shot for each person we loved and loss, okay?"

Getting the hint, he nodded. So I poured the shot glasses. We both sprinkle salt on our hands saying each person's name, staring at Dean. Saying Dean's name, we licked between our thumb and fingers. Shake a bit of salt on our skin. With the tequila shot and lime wedge in hand, we licked the salt and shot the tequila follow by the chaser of the lime sucking on it. I shuddered at the strong, pure taste of tequila. Usually, I just have it in a margarita, but pure is strong. Sam didn't seem phased by it, though laughed at me. I stuck a tongue at him pouring another round of shots.

We continued our salute for people we have lost so far. A shot of Ash, another for John Winchester, Bill Harvelle, and Marry Winchester, shot after shot of people we loved and loss over the years. The special children came next, from Lily, Andy Gallagher, Ava Wilson, and even Jake Talley, also if he tried to kill Ellen and stabbed Sam in the back. The unfortunate soldier was Yellow-eyes pawn. And finally, on the salute, Jessica was brought up. Sam sighed sadly just taking the tequila.

He stilled love her even to this day. I felt mixed emotions for some unknown reason. Either way, her death got Sam back to hunting. Sighing, I took my shot and started pouring another around, except the bottle was now officially empty. Damn, how much did we drink already?

Feeling a bit buzz, I checked the time finding it almost eleven O'clock at night, "We should probably head back."

"Yeah," Sam agreed.

So placing a ten dollar bill as a tip for the waitress, we got up and left for the motel. Luckily the motel is just down the block. We walked together walking like with drunken people laughing at nonsense, or at least I was, while Sam shook his head. When we reached the motel, getting on the elevator did things settled down. Our room was on the fifth floor, although the elevator was slow.

I took a deep breath and looked at Sam who was staring at me. I stared back keeping eye contact with him. He gave a small smile, leaning in and tilted his head and kissed me. I closed my eyes returning the kiss. When he pulled back, he stared at me with dilated pupils, and I'm betting mine are the same as well. I debated where this would go. If we should stop and call it a night. But once he kissed me, all logic went out the window.

Instantly our bodies molded together in a heated make-out session. Sam picked me up, pinning me to the wall. His hands were roaming my body, then hands slid down lower, all the way down to her thighs, before going up, bringing up my sweater touching skin. He then came down to my ass and squeezed it, bringing me up so that I was supported by his arms and the wall behind me, his lips never leaving my own as Sam wrestled with my tongue. Automatically I wrapped my legs around Sam's waist. Meanwhile, my arms circled around his neck as my hands went to his hair. The taste of tequila, salt, and lime easily noted, but none of us cared.
Ding!

We broke apart to breathe, seeing the elevator door open. I lowered my legs down and took his handed leading the way to our room. On the way, Sam would pin me to the wall, kissing me, while I kissed back, nibbling on his bottom lips playfully. At our bedroom door, we were in a deep make-out session again, as his hands roamed my body, grinding into me while I worked on the zipper to his sweatshirt. Quickly we pulled back, taking the key to unlocking the door, going inside for the climax of the drunken affair.

All of the sudden three people charged out of nowhere grabbing Sam and I. We tried fighting them off, except they were stronger. As a tall guy wrapped his arms around me, locking my arms back. A bulky man came after Sam throwing punches. Sam almost had him till a tall woman in a black coat came in, kneeing him in the stomach. We panted glaring at our attacks, as the woman felt us, searching for something. No doubt these people are possessed by demons. The woman checked Sam, smiling as she took the knife out of his belt.

"Thanks for keeping this warm for me, Sam." The woman said.

"Ruby," Sam noted.

Ruby came up standing in between us facing Sam, "It's nice to be back. Where I was, even for hell, it was nasty. I guessed I pissed Lilith off. Imagine my relief when she gave me one last chance to take it topside. And all I had to do was finding you and kill you."

"Fine," Sam growled. "But let her go."

Ruby turned to face me. I glared at her trying to shake this demon off me. She smirked, "I see you haven't heaved my warning."

"Fuck you, bitch." I hissed.

"Shame, I was gonna let you be, but now-"

"Let her go," Sam demanded to shove himself forward at Ruby. "Go ahead. Do it. But let her go."

Ruby turned around eyeing him. She grabbed hold of his shoulder, ready for the kill, as she swings the knife back. I gasped about to scream when the demoness made a sharp turn and stabbed the big demon instead. His body lit up then crumbled to the ground. Immediately the tall demon lets go of me, charging at Ruby. However, she yanked the knife out and stabbed him in the heart.

Sam and I stood there dumbfounded. We looked at Ruby confused. She panted staring at us, "Grab your keys. We got to go. Now!"

Doing as she said, we grabbed our backpacks, computers, and keys, leaving the motel for the Impala. At the car, we tossed our things in the trunk then got inside. Ruby claimed shotgun, smirking at me to sit in the back. I growled, wasting no time as I got into the back seat buckling up. All in Sam drove out of town. No one spoke for an hour that is until Ruby spoke.

"You know what sounds good? French fries." She said. "I'm starving. I just escaped hell. I deserve a treat."

Sam or I didn't reply. We were both angry that demons attacked off. Pissed that Ruby had to save out assess, let alone back from hell. And let's not forget the alcohol in our system right now enhancing our emotions. Why does this bitch have to be back? Of all the people, we prefer Dean possessing somebody or him in general. Not this witch-demon-bitch.

Ruby noticed the tension, "You know, a "Thank you" would be nice."

"Who asked for your help?" Sam muttered.

"You have no idea what I've been through," Ruby said. "When Lilith gets pissed, she gets creative. You want to hear about the corners of hell I've seen, Sam?"

"No, I don't," Sam answered harshly.

"And the things I had to do to convince her I was sorry?" Ruby continued. "That I could be trusted?"

"Well, this'll definitely get you a fat Christmas bonus." Sam countered.

"Very funny," Ruby muttered. "I'm a fugitive . . . for you, Sam. I took all of this risk to get back to you, so yeah, I deserve a damn "thank you."

Wow, am I that invisible. I thought. I cleared my throat. "You don't deserve a thank you. After what you did to Dean."

"Oh shut it, bookworm." Ruby snapped. "I'm just trying to help."

"Can you help me save Dean?" Dean asked.

Ruby paused, "No. Nothing I know of is powerful enough to do that."

Sam absorbed this nodding. He made a quick turn causing the tires to screech as he pulled off to the side of the road. "Then I have no use for you."

"What?" Ruby asked surprised.

"Get out," Sam ordered.

"Sam." Ruby started.

"Whose body are you riding, Ruby?" Sam interrupted.

"What do you care? You've never asked me that before." She said.

"I'm asking now," Sam said seriously.

Ruby sat there baffled by Sam's question. Hey, blue eyes widen analyzing him if this was a drunken question or he means it. I thought after the demon thing at the motel an hour ago, all the alcohol in his system decreased. Burned off from being angry right now.

"Some secretary," The demoness sighed.

"Let her go," Sam said.

"Sam . . ." she started.

"Or I send you right back to hell." He interrupted.

Sam meant every word of it. Ruby analyzed the situation that she was in a vehicle with two hunters who want nothing to do with her. She asked to be drop at the next town. Doing so we went to the next city, stopping outside a bus terminal. She tried to persuade Sam to let her come with us, more like him, but Sam grabbed the bible handing it to me. Too mad to read.

I nodded, starting the exorcism. Ruby's vessel jerked as she tried to fight it off. After saying the fourth verse, she gave up releasing the vessel in a screen of smoke going who knows where. Sam picked up the secretary and took her inside the bus terminal.

I sat in the Impala checking the time to be two in the morning. I sighed, thinking about how crazy today was filled with emotions. I mean, after the drinks things were going swell until Ruby came along. And thanks to her, bringing up how she escaped hell, Sam is back where he started.

When Sam returned he buckled up and looked at me. "I'm taking you back to Peru."

"You sure?" I asked.

"Yeah, if demons are searching for me. The last thing I want is you to get hurt." Sam answered, as he started the ignition and drove back to college. "I'm sorry, Skylar, I . . . I just can't risk it."

"I . . . I understand." I murmured.

All night Sam drove up to Peru. The Impala was engrossed in silences. None of us could say a word or think clearing. During the drive, I fell asleep. Keeping an ear open in case, Sam needed something or sirens blaring.

When I woke it, it was six in the morning outside of the university.

Sitting up straight staring at Sam who seemed half asleep. Quietly I unbuckled leaning over turning off the Impala. Luckily he didn't wake up violently like the last time. Instead, he shot his head up. I pulled back immediately, so we didn't collide.

"Skylar," Sam breathed.

"Hey," I whispered. "We're here."

Sam nodded rubbing his neck and looked at his watch. "I'll walk you back to your dorm."

I nodded not opposing to his command. We got out of the Impala, grabbing my things before heading inside the dorms. No words were exchanged, and the tensions were quite awkward. When we reached my dorm, I open the door finding the room empty. Cheryl must have spent the night at her dates. So taking advantage, we enter the room quietly not to wake my floor mats. Sam set my backpack on the desk the stood there uncomfortable.

"I um, I uh, should be going." He said.

"Sam, you're exhausted," I said. "You should rest."

Sam was going to protest, but I took his hand leading him to the twin bed. Hesitantly we both lay down on the bed, probably looking awkward since we barely fit the bed, especially Sam being tall. But we somehow managed, as I lay on my side with Sam lying beside me with a protective arm around my waist. The moment his head hit the pillow he instantly fell asleep. I smiled sadly, watching him sleep before going to bed.

When I woke up later in the afternoon, Sam was gone. Next to me was a note. Picking it up it said:

Skylar,

Thanks for everything. Sorry, I couldn't stay long, but it is for the best. I'll try to call you, keeping up the update. Take care now and enjoy your summer vacation.

Sam

What do you guys think?
So what do ya guys think is happening to Skylar?
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