Happy Thursday everyone!
"Did you get everything?" Dean asks me as soon as I walk through Bobby's front door. He's screwing the cap onto an enormous jug of holy water, a jeweled rosary dangling off from it. There are bags full of what I'm assuming are weapons and ammunition sitting on the kitchen table, at which Bobby is currently sitting, cleaning his shotgun.
"Yeah, got it all" I nod, dropping my own bag of supplies (retrieved by Ruby in a matter of seconds) onto the counter.
"Food?" Is Dean's next question.
Shit. Food had been the last thing on my mind.
"I uh…I figured we'd just pick some up on the way," I say. To my relief, Dean just nods, too busy studying the map of New Harmony that's laid out next to the weapon bags to see my expression. It's just nervous habit. We know where we're going, but Dad always told us to plan out all of our options; to always memorize locations of the nearest hospitals, police stations, and, believe it or not, 24-hour gyms. Plus, he insisted on mapping out at least five escape routes in case things ever went seriously wrong. That's what Dean appears to be doing now, fingers trailing over the crumpled paper on the table in front of him, whispering street names to himself.
He's scared.
It's as obvious to me as if he had screamed the words.
ooooooooooooooooooooooooo00000OO0000000ooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo
We hit the road half an hour later, Bobby trailing behind us in his truck. The stars are out by the time we hit the highway, and I notice Dean's gaze flickering up at the sky more often than the actual road in front of us.
"You okay?" I ask, wondering why I bother.
"I think I might be," he says, forehead crinkled with sincerity. The answer and the tone both surprise me. I was expecting more bravado. I was expecting the strong and stoic default to make an appearance for these final hours. Of course, there's nothing final about them, at least not for Dean. I will make sure of it.
"Yeah?" I ask.
"Yeah," he nods. "You know, I wouldn't change it. Even now, even if we don't end up winning. All I ever wanted was to help people. It's what I'm good at. And we did a lot of it. We really did. But none of that ever mattered if I couldn't save you. You were always at the top of the list, Sammy. And I'm proud of you. I'm proud you never gave in…"
"Dean…" I try to cut him off. I don't want to hear words I don't deserve. I don't want him to give me this big, final speech because he's scared and I'm terrified and the words just make it even more real. But he won't stop.
"No just…just let me say this," he says. He's not looking at me now. I imagine if he did, he wouldn't be able to keep talking. I know I can't. "Everything…Yellow Eyes and Ruby and all that other crap…you never let it in. You just kept going, kept on shoving past it until you extinguished it completely. And I'm so glad, Sammy. I just…yeah. That's what I wanted to say. That's…you know everything else." He smiles, big and wide and genuine. My big brother. Proud as ever.
My stomach rolls.
I just nod, the lump in my throat making it impossible to talk for a while. So we don't. And when we do, it's Dean who starts it up again, making some comment about how apparently nobody understands the point of the left lane on a goddamn freeway.
After that, we talk about everything.
We are careening toward the unknown, and it looks like every other road, but it is anything but. So before it ends, before the asphalt runs out and we get to New Harmony and whatever might await us there, I want to squeeze everything I can out of these last few hours. I want my brother's laughter to still be ringing in my ears as we face off against Lilith. I think Dean feels the same way, because he can't seem to stop talking. He tells me about Dad, some stories I've never heard because I was always too young or the time was never right. He even talks about Mom, briefly. Says she used to make these delicious half-brownie, half-cookie things that the two of us should totally make the next time we find an empty house with a halfway decent kitchen. And then Bon Jovi's "Dead or Alive" comes on the radio and I find myself belting out the words alongside my brother, our off-key voices filling up the interior of the Impala and drifting out into the midnight sky.
Midnight.
It's midnight now.
We have twenty-four hours.
Okay I know this is a super short chapter but try as I might to figure out how to make it longer, it just didn't work out. Guess that just means more for next time =P. As always, thank you all so much for your amazing reviews, and thanks for reading!