AN: Apologies to the Zac Brown Band for stealing their lyrics for the title of this chapter. Thanks so much for reading!
Putting the world away for a minute
Day one of this beach vacation nearly did me in. Seeing Death was a rough start. Waiting and worrying about Cas didn't help. And now I'm supposed to just have faith that Death won't seek revenge against me by killing everyone I care about.
Cas convinces me that I need to let it go. So, because I'm so tired of this constant fear, I have no choice. I decide to go with it and trust my friend the angel. And, in truth, I don't have the strength to fight anymore.
So here I am, finally feeling the sands between my toes nearly a day after we arrive on this island. The weather is hot. The beach is quiet and for the first time, I feel like okay. Not fantastic, but okay.
Sam and Cas haven't let me out of their sight and I started feeling claustrophobic, so I wandered onto the beach without even telling my babysitters where I was going. I'll pay for that later, I'm sure. But right now, this is better than Heaven.
I close my eyes and raise my face toward the sun. The heat permeates my body. I can get use to this.
Of course, my solitude doesn't last long as my well-meaning brother breaks my reverie. "Hey. I thought you might like some company."
What I really want is to be alone, but Sam has done so much for me the past couple of days, I can't tell him that. I slowly open my eyes and squint at my brother. I'm amazed at how much stuff he managed to haul to the beach. Chairs, towels, a cooler of hopefully beer, and an armload of crap that I don't bother to identify.
"We don't have to talk," he adds, somehow reading my reticence as he hands me a pair of sunglasses. "We can just sit — watch the waves. Have a few beers. Just relax."
He brought beer, so how can I say no.
We sit and Sam pulls a book out of the beach bag — a large, bright, floral monstrosity that Cas must have picked out himself. "He's such a child," I mutter.
Sam chuckles but doesn't comment as he opens his book. I don't ask what he's reading. He hates that. He's a geek — a scholar — who could have done so much with his life had he been allowed to. So I give him the time to read in peace just as he allows me the quiet I need. I ignore the magazines obviously meant for me and an iPod that may or may not be for me. I settle into the beach chair and close my eyes again.
My brother is as good as his word and leaves me to my own thoughts while he watches over me. I may be falling apart, but I'm not a fool. I know that Sam and Cas have been keeping a constant eye on me. I knew it last night when I started to cut a melon while Cas was grilling steak. When I picked up the knife, the flashback started. I saw myself decimating the group of men when we rescued Claire Novak. I felt the very moment that I lost control and let the Mark overtake me. I relived every stab and slice and heard every scream all over again. And when it was all over, I experienced the same shame and endured the same look of disappointment from my brother.
All of them were bastards who may have deserved some kind of punishment, but it wasn't on me to be their executioner. And I knew when I was killing them that it wasn't their bad behavior that motivated me. It was pure rage. The overwhelming urge to kill.
As the images overtook me, the knife I was holding clanged to the floor drawing Sam's attention. Though I was aware of my erratic breathing, I tried my best to control it — to conceal my rising panic.
"I'll do this," Sam offered, picking up the knife and grabbing the fruit.
"Yeah," I managed through gritted teeth. "Gotta hit the head."
I thought Sam or Cas would follow, but they didn't. My shaking hand closed the door and I slid down the wall to the floor, grateful that they left me alone to pull myself together.
Though I promised to be honest with Sam, I did not — could not — admit what was happening to me. Just touching an ordinary kitchen knife nearly sent me spiraling again. Though I knew they saw me suffer the flashback and the ensuing panic attack, I still tried to force it down because I needed to at least pretend I had some control.
Later, when I tried to sleep, nightmares returned. I saw myself killing everything — monsters, demons, angels and humans. The guilty and the innocent. I saw everyone I've ever loved die, some at my hand. I woke up screaming, drenched in sweat and with my heart pounding in my chest. I could sense a presence even though I saw no one. I knew it had to be Cas.
"I'm okay," I breathed out loud to the seemingly empty room. "I'm okay.
When I got up the next morning, we all pretended it didn't happened. Though by the looks on their faces, I knew I wasn't fooling anyone. So, I accept the fact that my brother and my friend watch over me nonstop. I don't like it, but I understand it. Though sometimes I feel like the walls are closing in, mostly I appreciate it.
Honestly, I do feel better, despite the nightmares. Something about this place. I think maybe it can heal me if I let it.
After more than an hour of silently soaking up the sun, I strike up a conversation with Sam by handing him a beer. We talk about nothing heavy. Nothing about the Mark or the effects of having it removed. No mention of Death or Rowena or Crowley. We just reminisce about our childhood — the good stuff, not the bad. About the wrestling matches Dad would take us to and how Bobby taught us to play catch. We talk about our stopover in St. Louis that one summer to watch the Cardinals play. Sam suggests that we have Cas take care getting satellite TV so we perhaps can watch more sports while we're here.
It feels good to talk about nothing. Just like ordinary brothers. So when I see Cas and Sam whispering, I choose to ignore it. If I ask, they probably will tell me what they're discussing because Sam promised honesty. But I don't want to know. I choose to take no notice of the fact that Sam spends too much time searching something on his computer. I choose to pretend that Cas isn't watching me even when I don't see him. I choose to accept the fantasy that I live a somewhat normal life. And as I do, the panic attacks lessen. I have fewer flashbacks. The hallucinations have stopped altogether and I've had no more visions of Death making threats. The nightmares are the only things I can't shake.
I spend my days swimming in the ocean or running the beach. I frequent the bar that's just a short walk from our house. Sometimes I watch a baseball game or drink beer on the sun deck. A few times, I've even picked up one of Sam's books.
In the six weeks since we've been on this island, I choose to ignore the nagging deep in my soul that something bad is about to happen.
xxxxxxXxxxxxx
It's easy to see that this trip to the beach is exactly what Dean needed. I can't go as far as saying he's happy, but he seems stable — which is considerably better than when we arrived.
When Cas came back that night, neither of us had a clear idea of whether Dean was hallucinating or if Death had invaded his mind. But what I heard Cas say is that it didn't matter. Death would not reach us. I got the impression that Cas couldn't get a straight answer from the angels. Still, he believed that we were safe.
I wanted more details, but that wasn't the time to get them. Though he was trying to hold it together, Dean was unsteady. He had to be the priority so I pushed aside the doubts I had.
The next day, Dean disappeared to walk to the beach, Cas and I watched him from the french doors overlooking the ocean. I knew he needed some space, but I couldn't bring myself to turn away. I was sure he would break apart at any moment. Apparently Cas felt the same way. We both kept our eyes on him as we talked.
I questioned Cas about what happened. He told me how anxious he had been feeling about this trip and his mind was racing about how he would protect Dean from Death and all the other threats bearing down on us. He had no plan when he left, but found himself standing before Joshua in Heaven.
He explained how he thought he was waiting from an answer from God when Joshua asked him to help in the garden. And in that menial task, his mind began to clear.
"I realized I can't do this alone," Cas admitted to me. "I can only do my part."
His eyes scanned my face to gage my reaction. I suspected he saw my doubt that Death would just leave us alone.
"I know you are depending on me and I don't want to let you down."
"You haven't." I schooled my expression to conceal my hesitation, but my response was sincere. I wish I felt his certainty about Death though I do have absolute trust in our friend. I have no doubts of his determination to protect us.
"God is the only being who can stop Death," Cas said distantly as he looked toward the beach. "So I have to have faith. God fixed my wings and he gave me another chance. If God says Death is not an issue, then I believe that."
It all made sense now why he returned with a sense of calm that he was missing before. I understood, but I wasn't sure Dean would. So we agreed not to tell him unless he asked.
But Rowena was another story. Cas revealed that the angels had been talking about some trouble she had been causing. Her power was increasing every day. The previous week, a small town in North Dakota was destroyed by an earthquake."
He turned to me to make sure I understood the significance. "The town doesn't lie near a fault line."
"So Rowena is flexing her muscles?"
"It appears so," Cas confirmed. "She's testing her power for something bigger."
A familiar pang of guilt shot though me. "I should do something," I muttered, still looking at my brother who seemed incredibly lost standing on the beach just a few hundred yards in front of us.
"Something is being done," Cas reminded me. "The angels are working on it."
Though I didn't say it out loud, that didn't make me feel better.
"You should also know that when Joshua initially approached me about watching over the two of you, he said you would have another mission."
"He did?" My head snapped to Cas in surprise. "Do you think it has something to do with Rowena?"
"I don't know," Cas answered, his brow creasing as he watched Dean. "He would only say that all would become clear when it was time."
"That's cryptic," I complained. Cas only shrugged in response.
As much as I wanted to undo the damage I had done with Rowena, I knew that my prime concern was Dean. So I let the subject drop, packed some supplies and joined my brother on the beach. He didn't seem to want me there, but he didn't complain. After a while, he started a conversation. We talked about things we hadn't talked about in a long time. I think it was good for him, and I know it helped me.
In the weeks that followed, Dean had fewer episodes – fewer panic attacks, fewer flashbacks and I think fewer nightmares. At least I didn't hear him screaming as often. But he was different. Maybe that wasn't a bad thing, but it still was troubling me.
Dean started running every morning on the beach. Miles at a time. Sometimes, he would let me run with him. Usually, he said he needed some time to clear his head. Cas wouldn't leave him alone unprotected, so he always followed — though Dean couldn't see him. I think Dean may have known, but he never said anything.
He never questioned me about what I was researching on the computer. Had he asked, I would have taken it as a sign that he was ready to deal with what was out there waiting for us. I promised him no secrets, but he didn't seem to want to know and I didn't want to derail his recovery. So all my concerns about what the witch was up to was kept from him.
Though he went to the beach bar often, he didn't drink much. A beer or two, maybe a shot of whiskey. And he never, ever tried to pick up a girl. If one tried to pick him up, he declined in such a charming way that they never felt insulted.
I understood that at first, he was still shaky and unsure of himself. But as the weeks progressed, he seemed more comfortable. He would chat with the bartender. He would laugh with Cas and me. But he was different. I wanted him to be the brother that he had been before all of this started.
Yet how could I complain? He was better. He just wasn't the same.
A funny thing happened while I was waiting for him to get well. While he was avoiding women, I met one. At first I was resistant because I needed to focus on Dean and finding Rowena. But we saw each other every night at the bar.
I didn't know much about her except that she was on an extended vacation — spending the summer on the same small island. We struck up a conversation about what brought us to the same place. I told her a mostly true version of Dean being injured and we came here for him to recuperate. She said she had a bad ending to a long relationship and wanted to get away.
On the second night, I learned her name — Rachel. On the third night, I bought her a drink. Later that night, we hooked up on a private spot on the beach. When Dean figured it out, he teased me relentlessly. I reveled in the teasing because that was a part of my brother that I had missed the most.
Since, this girl and I have had several hook ups in her hotel or on that same spot on the beach. But I never stay the night, and I certainly can't invite her to our protected house. Keeping Dean safe is too important to let someone else in — even if the thought of spending more time with her is appealing to me.
Dean is encouraging me to spend all night with her. Actually, he's haranguing me. He says I deserve some fun. Cas is less than thrilled. I think he is worried about how he can protect me while watching over Dean.
"She's just a girl," I tell Cas. Once Dean suggested it, I thought maybe it would be okay. "She's not a demon or a witch or anything evil. She was just someone who had a rough time — just like us."
"I don't think what she's been through is remotely the same as what you two have been through," Cas retorts.
"He likes her, Cas," Dean pipes in. "Let him go."
"No," the angel insists. "I can't. It's too dangerous."
"He's an adult, Cas. He should be able to do whatever he wants to do."
"Dean," I try to interrupt. I understand why Cas doesn't want me too, and since our conversation about how much pressure he felt to keep us safe, I don't want to add any more burden to him. "It's okay. I'm fine keeping things the way they are. I don't need to spend the night with her."
"Yes you do," Dean answers more forcefully than I expect.
His tone catches me off guard, as does the tense look on his face. "It's just a fling," I point out. "That's it. We both know that's all we get."
"Yeah," he mutters, his jaw clinched.
While Cas is busy searching Dean's face for an answer, I go for the direct approach. "What's going on, Dean? Why is this so important to you?"
"Because …." I guess Dean is getting back to normal because he clams up after that definitive comment.
Because …?" I prod. I don't really want to talk about my love life with my brother, but I know this conversation isn't really about that.
"Because he feels he's been holding you back from having the life you want," Cas responds, his eyes locked on Dean.
"Stop reading my mind," Dean barks, not bothering to deny what Cas said. "It's annoying."
"I was sensing your feelings not reading your mind," Cas corrects. "There's a difference. I can read your minds but I choose not to. It would be too invasive."
A frustrated Dean closes his eyes and shakes his head. "Good to know," he mutters sarcastically.
"You don't hold me back, Dean." The subject of whether Cas could read our minds also isn't the issue at hand. "You are more important to me that this girl. She's not going to be a great love of my life. I lost her years ago because of the yellow-eyed demon. If anyone stopped me from having a normal life, it was that son of a bitch — and Lucifer."
Dean opens his eyes and stepped closer to me in a big brother stance he had adopted years ago. "Maybe she can be. Maybe it's not too late for you."
"No," I insist. "It is too late. It can never go that far because it will put her in danger. When we go back to hunting …."
"I'm not going back." Dean interrupts, taking a step back — no longer my protective brother but the one who is still wrecked by everything that has happened to him. "I can't hunt — not anymore."
His chin is trembling when he says that, and it proves that he hasn't improved as much as I thought.
"We have time to figure that out," I say, hoping to lay this discussion aside for now. The truth is, I have to go back to hunting because I have unfinished business. Rowena has amassed a great deal of power because of me. I know that Dean can't hear that now, yet he surprises me by what he says next.
"I have figured it out. All of this time here, it's made everything clear. Hunting has cost me everything … everything – including my sanity. I'm staying here. I'm never going back."
"You haven't lost me," I say, though I wonder if I'm stating the obvious. He should know that, but I'm not sure he does.
"I have lost you … countless times. Every time you ran away. Every time you died." His voice fades off as he presses his lips together to gain control. "And I'll lose you again if we go back to hunting."
"You'll lose me? Why? Because we have to let each other go, is that it?" I ask, my tone shifts from concern to exasperation. "Who says? When we go back to hunting and we'll watch out for each other, just like we always have."
"Sam," Cas chides, his watchful eyes never leave Dean's face. "Now isn't the time to discuss if or when you go back to hunting."
I see as clearly as Cas does that Dean is about to lose it again. He's trembling and his eyes are moist. I should stop, but I don't.
"Maybe your dream told you that we have to let go?" I press on. "My dream didn't tell me that. My dream told me how you would go to any length to protect me. My dream told me that we're stronger together than we are apart. Like it or not, this life is our fate — our destiny. There's no quitting."
"No." Dean's voice is soft.
"Sam!" Cas is more firm now. "Stop."
"It was never our destiny." Deans says the word as if it leaves a bitter taste. "It was our choice. Dad's choice. Ultimately my choice. And I pulled you back in it every time." Dean also seems to be ignoring Cas, though his voice is quiet and he had retreated further from me.
My voice is a little too loud and much too belligerent. And he shrinks away at my next comment.
"We've both tried to have a normal life, Dean. There's no way out."
Cas suddenly pushes me from Dean and stands between us. In his calm, commanding voice, he appeals to me again. "Stop. Please."
And I realize what I have been doing to my brother. Though I've noticed his distress, I had not noticed my own. And I kept pushing. This isn't about Dean, it's been about me. I was badgering him when he isn't ready to hunt because I'm anxious to stop Rowena. I feel the weight of everything I've done, and this vacation — if I dare call it that — hasn't changed that. How Dean and I have grown closer while we've been here hasn't changed that. That I'm having this wild, passionate affair with a woman I barely know hasn't changed it. And that Dean looks like he would fall apart without me can't change that.
Everything I've done, I would do it all again — and more — to save my brother. But that doesn't release me from the consequences. The things I've been researching about Rowena haven't been good. The longer she has the Book of the Damned, the more difficult she will be to defeat.
But I was wrong to put all of that on Dean. I nod at Cas and he moves aside for me to face my brother again.
"I'm sorry," I say as I step closer to him.
He shakes it off but he won't look at me. "No, it's okay."
I tilt my head to try to catch his eyes. I need him to hear this. "You're right. You do have a choice. I understand. You've been through too much to go back to hunting now. Maybe you'll never go back. That's okay."
"And you?" His brow is creased with worry when he finally faces me.
I see now that my brother is broken in a way that he may never be mended. Still, I can't hide my intentions from him anymore. "Eventually, I'll have to go back. I have to take out Rowena. Whatever she's doing now is my fault."
That admission from me — that I will go back to hunting — looks like it is actually crushing him. His shoulders sink into his body and his eyes fill with tears. He rubs the spot on his arm that used to hold the Mark of Cain.
"But not right now," I emphasize. He nods but he's shutting down. Maybe that's better than when he was collapsing on the floor in pain or puking his guts out. But I'm not sure. A glance to Cas tells me I have every reason to be concerned.
"Hey," I move even closer and grab his neck so he'll look at me and hear what I'm saying. I can tell that he wants to get away from what he's feeling but I won't let him. "We're going to get through this. You're going to be okay. And as long as you need me, I will be here. After Rowena is taken care of, I'll quit. If that's still what you want. I'll give up hunting, too."
Dean shakes his head as he blinks away the tears. "If you take on Rowena, you won't have a chance to give up hunting."
He says that as if he already knows what will happen. Something inside me tells me that he may be right.