A.N.: Hey guys, going to go ahead and post the latest chapter of DW now and hope you enjoy it (after the finale!) You guys rock and thank you endlessly for all of the amazing reviews and support. Special thanks to Kat to always taking time out of her busy life to help me with this story, you're incredible. :D
Disclaimer: Rafe is mine, and that's about it.
He watches the phone complete its arch in the air, fascinated by the tiny pieces it breaks into as it smashes onto the pavement.
He wonders what a body would do…
There is a groan at the back of his mind.
"What do you think, Dean?"He tilts his head out of the window, the crisp air blasting his face. "An eight? The dismount was beautiful, but it just didn't stick that landing." He grimaces.
"Dean?" he questions, waiting for his vessel to come back around.
"I know you're awake in there sunshine, nothing gets you up and around like your little brother's panicked voice."
He feels the steady pulse of rage hum just under his skin.
"Whoa now, we're driving. You pull one of your crazy stunts now and well…splat." He shrugs and breathes out a relieved puff of air as Dean's hackles go down.
"Where are we going?" he taps out an offbeat rhythm with his bent finger, whistling. "Oh, you'll know soon enough. And Sam, if he is even half as smart as you think he is, he'll be on his way too."
His hand clenches into a fist in front of him.
"He's fine, Dean. Sounds like he hasn't slept in a few days, but I haven't done anything to him. Chill out."
His fingers fall back flat on the dash.
"Isn't it so much easier to get along with me. I'm not a bad guy." He slides a hand along the dashboard. "Just having a little fun."
He hisses as a booming scream sounds in his mind.
"Oh yeah, her." He lifts one shoulder in a lazy shrug. "Hell...I don't know, I got bored." He winks at the soccer man in the minivan he passes.
"Ease up on the throttle there tiger." he chuckles, feeling his foot shift and move. "I'm letting you drive your car, man. You like driving your car." He pats his chest in a comforting motion.
Confusion and hatred twinge just behind his eyes, the pulse weakening as Dean Winchester expels most of his energy.
He pulls the tether of his control back to his chest, tightening his grip as tight as he can manage before he states. "We're going home, Dean."
His grin is feral as his vessel bellows out his rage.
It's a nice house.
He's torn by the force ripping through his vessel, the current of affection and fear waging war with hatred and shame. It's a potent mixture and he finds himself bracing both hands against the steering wheel.
Dean's scared. Shaking, trembling, terrified. It's a new emotion for Rafe. He's been upset and worried since being possessed, but no fear for himself, no fear for what might happen to him, only to others. Rafe has never met a more self-righteous son of a bitch. But now, his heart is hammering, his frame unsteady, his control paper thin.
This...this is new. This is raw.
He closes his eyes as Dean fights off the forbidden memories grappling to take the forefront of his mind.
He won't allow Rafe to see this, not this.
He takes a quivering breath, his words the only steady thing in his being. "Home sweet home."
Dean's weakened himself at this point, unable to do much more than plead.
Rafe runs a hand down his face, taking a quick swig from the flask in his pocket.
"I'm sorry Dean, but what Meg wants," he creaks the door open, heaving his vessel deeper and deeper down into the black. "That bitch, gets."
His footsteps are uneven as he stumbles up the porch, amazing that Dean is still able to dispute him at this point.
He's maybe even a little impressed.
He raises his hand to knock on the door, noticing belatedly that his fingers still look a little bit like a puppets, bent in unnatural directions.
He pulls them back into place right as the door opens.
She doesn't look much different, her hair cut into an angular bob now and her eyes freer than the last time he saw her.
Pity. That she would only know peace for a brief time.
"Dean?" she questions, brushing her hair back behind her ears.
He grins, stuffing his hands into his jacket pockets. "Hey, Jenny."
She smiles in return. "Hey." She pauses, looking out the door for his partner in crime. "What are you doing here?"
"Just in the area." He shrugs. "Thought I would check in, see how you are doing."
"I'm good. I'm good, thanks." She gestures to the inside of the house. "Did you want to come in?"
"Yeah. Yeah, that'd be great."
She places a hand on his back as she guides him in.
"So," she starts, placing the glass of milk in front of him. "Where's Sam?"
He takes a large gulp, nibbling on the edge of his sandwich. "Sam? Oh he's...around."
She pulls out a chair. "Around? Everything okay?"
He looks down at his plate. "I guess." he begins, picking at the bread. "Just you know...drama."
"Wanna talk about it?" she asks.
He looks up at her earnest expression. "We're just going in two different directions you know?"
"Family can be tough."
"I mean, I say black and he says white. He says up and I say down. It's like we're speaking two different languages." He shrugs. "And I'm not very fluent in emo girl."
She snorts. "I've never seen anyone like the two of you. You are so close. The more you love them, the crazier they drive you."
He chuckles softly, tearing off a chunk of the sandwich. "You talk like you speak from experience."
She grins. "Yeah, Sari is quite a handful, and she's not even a teenager yet." she shakes her head. "I don't even want to think about it."
"What about Ritchie?"
"Just started kindergarten. I have to pick him and Sari up in about an hour."
"Damn, has it been that long?" He ticks off the years on his fingers.
"Yup, two years. Anyway, I just want you to know that you and Sam will make it through this."
"You think?" he questions, ripping away another section of his food. "Cause I'm not so sure."
She reaches over to take the empty milk glass, patting his arm in the process. "Dean, I'm a mom. I know these things." she winks at him.
"Yeah, you're right." he starts, feigning reaching for his cellphone as his hand closes around the hilt of his gun. "I should give him a call."
She turns towards the sink. "I bet you he would like that. And you'll probably feel better too." She places the glass in the sink with a soft clink that covers up his own fingers clicking the safety off.
"Thanks for the advice, Jenny." He shifts the gun in his pocket, sliding it out slowly.
A knock sounds at the door.
"Shit." he hisses, stuffing his broken digits back into his pocket.
"What?" she inquires, turning to face the sound of the knock.
He chuckles. "Just scared me. Sorry."
She looks at him oddly for just a moment before a second knock interrupts what she is about to say.
"Come on in!" she yells, her eyes squinting as she stares at Dean.
"You just let strange people in your home?" he jokes, swallowing the last bite with an uneasy grin.
"You okay, Dean?" she questions as the click of the door closing fills the room.
"Yeah, of course. Being in this house is just..." he trails off and she shakes her head chagrined.
"Oh. Duh. I'm so sorry, I didn't even think of that."
He waves off her concerns. "No worries. Were you expecting company?"
She smiles as the other person enters the room.
"Hey, thanks for coming over."
He doesn't have to turn around to know who is behind him, the whole rooms buzzes with her presence. A presence he is not prepared for.
"I told you I would." she retorts, moving to where she can see him. "You just gonna sit there boy or are you going to say hi?"
He flinches at the unexpected visitor, all of his warning bells telling him to abort. "Hey there Missouri. Been awhile."
She'll know, if he doesn't get out of here right now, she'll know.
"Awhile? Been a lot longer than that." She moves to stand by the table. "Where's your brother?"
"We're kinda on the outs, I was just about to call him." He shoves away from the table, waving his cell phone in lieu of an explanation.
"Is everything alright?" she questions, taking another step towards him.
"Yeah, just, you know. Brother crap." he smiles and points to her. "What are you doing here?"
She chuckles. "Jenny here has me come over about every six months to do a sweep of the house. Ain't been nothing in two years, but she wants to be sure."
Jenny shrugs before smiling warmly. "Nothing more important than family. Right Dean?"
"Right. So, I'm gonna go make that call," he breaks off and go to move, jolting when Missouri's hand closes on his arm, her heartfelt inquiry about his well-being cut into by her gasp of surprise.
"Jenny, you have to run." she starts, pulling her hand back as if she has been physically burned. "He's a," her words are halted as he rams the butt of the gun into her forehead and she crumples to the ground.
"Oh my god." Jenny shrieks, backing up towards her sink, her petite hands scouring the counter for a weapon.
He looks down at his victim, before his eyes flicker into blackness. "Fucking physics." he grumbles. "They always give away the ending."
She doesn't even have a chance to scream before he descends on her.
This is not part of the plan, but hey, he can improvise.