Chapter 11: Bring It On Home

The room hummed with quiet concern and Savannah didn't have the strength to argue with the anxious looks Sam and Dean were sending her. Her mind was reeling with what Derrick had said about her father. She had tried to convince herself that he was lying, but the gut feeling in her stomach told her that he'd been telling the truth. She closed her eyes and gave a long sigh as she tried to get a grip on her swirling emotions. When she opened them, Dean was standing next to her, offering her a glass of water and some Advil. She gave him a feeble smile as she took it.

"Got anything stronger?" She asked, surprised at how weak her voice sounded. Dean smiled slightly and poured her a shot. She took it and the room fell quiet again. Sam rose, donning his jacket while mumbling something about going to get food before he vanished out the door. Dean sat on the edge of the bed, just looking at her. His face was littered with stress and worry and Savannah's heart ached at the sight of it. She wanted nothing more than to take that look off his face. Her whole life, Dean had been her best friend. They'd shared every waking moment since she was 10 and she knew him well enough to know that it wasn't just the night's events that were weighing on him. She knew that under that hard exterior he put up, that he was still the same little boy that just wanted to protect his family. She knew he had taken the loss of John harder than anyone and the guilt of John's deal was killing him. The stress of Sam's visions had been apparent since the very first one, everyone had known that. She also knew Dean well enough to know that trying to get him to talk about it wouldn't do any good. The pain would flash across his eyes before he pushed it back down and covered it with a snarky remark and a long sip from a bottle. Their eyes locked and in the 15 years that she spent by his side, she'd never seen him so scared.

"I thought you weren't coming back." He whispered, his bottom lip ever so slightly trembling. It was times like these that she finally got to see the real Dean. The one that only came out after a long night at the bar or the rare times when there was too much going on inside of him. She waved him onto her bed and wrapped her damaged arms around him, ignoring the shooting pain it sent up them.

"I always come home, Dean. You know that." She did her best to comfort him and he was careful as he held her to him. Savannah eased herself onto Dean's chest, feeling his heartbeat as it drummed into her ears. Savannah's life was constantly changing from one second to the next. And in a life where nothing stayed the same, the boys had been her one constant variable. They were the anchor keeping her tethered when life's storms got too bad.

"But what if you didn't? What would we have done? What would I have done?" He wondered, more to himself than her. His voice was shaking and she knew that he was fighting a hard battle to keep his emotions in check. She propped herself up with some difficulty and sent him a stern look.

"You would have kept fighting, like you always do." She whispered quietly to him. He looked at her, knowing fully well that's exactly what he would have done. Because that's what Dean did, he fought on, through monsters, through pain, through hurt. It was all he knew anymore and Savannah wished that it wasn't. It wasn't fair to Dean, it never had been, but that was the past and she couldn't worry about that now.

"I guess so. But what does it all mean? Sam's visions, yellow eyes, everything…" He sighed, staring at the dingy ceiling. She sighed and laid her head back on Dean's chest, unable to answer the question that humans had been asking since the beginning of time.

"I dunno Dean. I dunno." She said and they laid in a contented silence for a while, both of their minds wandering as Dean played with Savannah's hair absentmindedly. Savannah's thoughts slipped to her father again and she wondered what her life would be like if he had lived. She wondered if she'd be as close to the boys, and to Bobby. She doubted it, in all honesty. It's not like hunters were known for having "packs." Her father had been a bit of a loner in his years and Savannah had really only seen any of them when something was really bad. She pushed back a sob when she realized that she wouldn't be here if her father was still alive. She would have died, unborn in her mother's stomach on that day in September. Dean propped himself on his elbow and looked at her as she forced herself not to cry.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Dean said, his voice tender at the sight of her.

"He talked about my dad, Dean. Talked about the night he died." She said as a tear escaped her and made its way down her cheek.

"He was lying, Van. Demons do that from time to time." He said softly as he reached over and wiped the tear away. She shook her head at him.

"No, he wasn't. The things he said…they…they were the same things that I heard in my dreams. I've had a few more and they're about my dad and his soul….and….he told me why he made the deal." She told him, her voice barely audible now. Dean had opened his mouth to talk, and then closed it again, unsure of what to say.

"He did it for me, Dean. To save me. When my mom died in that accident, I was still in her stomach…" She trailed off before her bottom lip quivered uncontrollably. If anyone could understand the guilt she was feeling, it was Dean. Sam and Savannah had both known that John's deal had torn Dean apart. He'd told them a thousand times that what was dead should stay dead. Dean put a hand to her face and his eyes took a tone of understanding.

"It's rough, I know. But we just have to make sure that they didn't die in vain." He said strongly. She nodded, mulling over his words. She laid back on the bed, wrestling with herself on what to do next. They still had a job to do and for all they knew, another kid was being drained right at that very moment. Injured or not, she couldn't let that happen. She struggled to get herself up from the bed, waving off Dean's hands as he tried to stop her.

"No, we still have a job to do Dean." She said, forcing her aching legs to move. She sat at the table and pried open an old book, doing her best to focus on the words. Dean sighed as he looked at her, shaking his head.

"Let me and Sam worry about all that. You just need to get some rest." He argued but she shook her head.

"I'm not just going to lie around and let those kids get hurt, Dean." She retorted as Sam came in, giving her a look of surprise.

"You let her get up?" Sam said to Dean, who shrugged halfheartedly.

"I couldn't stop her, Sam. What am I supposed to do, chain her to the bed?" Dean said, a hint of anger to his words. She shot them both an annoyed look.

"I'm still here, you know." She said, flinching in pain as she moved too fast. Sam shook his head as he dumped the bag of food onto the table in front of her.

"No. Oh no. You're going to get your ass back in bed, and you're going to make sure she doesn't move." Sam said sternly, gently yanking her up from the table and guiding her towards the bed. She would have argued normally, but the look on Sam's face was a mixture of concern and seriousness. There was no use fighting him. She settled herself in and quietly took the food that Sam handed her. The overwhelming pain gave her no appetite and she left her food untouched. The quiet seemed to intensify her pain and her whole body was screaming at her. She was suddenly aware that just sitting up seemed like a difficult task and she was scared for a second that she was going to pass out again. She tried to shift herself, letting out a whimper of pain as she did. Dean instantly was at her side, helping her move and giving her more pillows.

"Just get some sleep, alright? It's been a long day for everyone." He cooed at her and she groggily nodded and gave him a lazy smile before she closed her eyes. Sam and Dean chattered on as she fell asleep, their words lost on her hazy mind. The last thing to spin through her head before she drifted off to sleep, was Dean's heartbeat, drumming into her ears.