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Chapter 21: Crossroad Blues Part 3
"So, it's just like the Robert Johnson legend, right? I mean, "selling your soul at the crossroads" kind of deal?" Sam asked as I put the shovel in the trunk.
Dean nodded and put his hand on the top of the trunk, getting ready to close it as I pulled my head out. I had to shove the shovel all the way to the back of the trunk with the others. The front of the trunk was basically filled with our duffels and the weapons box.
"Yeah, except that wasn't a legend." Dean said and closed the trunk. I leaned against the car and looked at the crossroads. "I mean, you know his music."
Sam looked at him confused and I almost laughed. "You don't know Robert Johnson songs?" I asked and Sam gave me the same look. "Sam, there's occult references all over his lyrics. I mean, "Crossroad Blues"? "Me and the Devil Blues"? "Hellhound on My Trail"? Story goes that he died choking on his own blood. He was hallucinating and muttering about big, evil dogs."
Sam nodded, seeming to get it even though I knew he didn't really follow. I mean, Robert Johnson wasn't my type of music either but I knew who he was. "We've got to find out if anyone else struck any bargains around here."
I scoffed and shook my head, bouncing myself up off the car to walk past them.
"What?" Sam asked.
I turned, ironically right in the middle of the crossroads. "So these people use two percent of their brain and now we gotta save their asses? Excuse me while I stop and think that plan's idiotic."
"She's right." Dean said and I could literally see the 'I'm tired of two against one' face wipe across Sam's features. "I mean, they're not exactly squeaky clean. Nobody put a gun to their head and forced them to play 'Let's Make a Deal.'"
"So, what, we should just leave them to die?" Sam asked us and I shrugged.
"Somebody goes over Niagara in a barrel, you gonna jump in and try to save them?" Dean asked and I turned and kneeled back down next to the Yarrow flowers to pick some.
Honestly, the thought hadn't bothered me. These people were stupid enough to make deals with demons they should suffer their own moronic consequences. I mean, everyone has a tough life, everyone loses someone. But not everyone goes out and freakin' makes a deal with a devil just to change it. All you're doing is hurting yourself and the people that care about you. I wonder if John even thought of that as he was shaking a demon's hand. I mean, I knew I was being the slightest bit hypocritical. Wasn't I reaping the benefits of the deals I claimed to hate? Dean was alive because John had died. I kept telling myself that I would have gotten over it, death was easy to get over if you experienced it enough times. But as Dean leaned down next to me and pulled my back to lean against his chest, I thought differently. Dean was right. Each of us helped the other in making us feel like this life more bearable. And if he hadn't of lived, I would have died inside. End of story.
Dean squeezed his arms around my waist and kissed my neck. "You ready to go? Sam wants us to grab barrels and follow people over Niagara." I chuckled softly and somewhat sadly as I looked at the Yarrow flowers. I picked one and handed one to Dean as I got up. "What's this for?" He asked me, twirling to flower in his fingers.
I kissed his cheek. "For being here." I said simply. Because that's how this situation felt to me: simple.
I saw a little cloud of guilt wash across Dean's face and I knew he was thinking about the deal that his own father had made; how he shouldn't have even been here. He was living on borrowed time and I knew how jacked up he felt about it. He didn't feel like he deserved it but he couldn't lie to me and tell me he was unhappy for living.
Dean inched closer to me and I hugged him, real tight around his waist. He brought his arms around me, one hugging me tightly to his chest while the other dipped up my back and cupped my head. It was the one with the flower in it and I could feel the pollen rub itself through my hair. It made me wonder if my hair would smell like the flower.
"So we gotta plan? Or you just wanna wing it with your barrel?" I asked, gaining a small smile out of him as I pulled away.
"Well rituals like this, you've gotta put your own photo into the mix, right?" He asked and it made me wonder how he knew that. Was it a guess? Made me think he had been looking this stuff up. It wouldn't have surprised me. I had been obsessed about learning about Wendigos after my dad died. Maybe it was the same thing. Or maybe he had been eavesdropping when my dad had taught me the lesson on crossroads. I wasn't sure which situation made me feel more comforted. "So, the guy in the box probably summoned the thing. Let's see if anyone inside knows him…if he's still alive."
I looked towards Lloyds and nodded and Dean pulled back and headed back to the car to get to the picture and to get Sam.
Let's see what we could see.
O0o0o0o0
Honestly, I was reluctant to ask people about this guy. First of all, the obvious reason, he basically tied a stick of dynamite to himself by making this deal and I wanted him to explode for it. Secondly, not real fuzzy and friendly types in this bar and it made me wish I had put on a heavy winter jacket that covered me completely instead of this tank top which everyone looked at like it was see through.
"Hey you ever seen this guy before?" I asked and held up the small wallet that was in the box. I showed each of the bar flies carefully, but they all looked too drunk to remember what they looked like let alone identifying another person.
Each of them said no and then took a long look at my breasts. I grimaced, thanking them quietly and headed back to where Sam and Dean were sitting.
"I'm done." I said and slid in the booth next to Sam. I handed Dean the picture and he looked at me oddly. "Until you have boobs, you will never understand."
He widened his eyes slightly and smiled; thinking about my chest no doubt and slid out of the booth and kissed my head. He went to turn around and then wavered, looking back at me. "You wanna come with me?" He asked and I looked at him confused.
After I just told him I was done being stared at he wanted me to have another round of it? Then it clicked in my head as Sam shifted and sipped his beer. He didn't want to leave me alone with Sam. Especially since he was going to walk away and he wouldn't be able to pay attention to what we were doing and to what people were saying about the photo. Okay, I understood that and I told him he was allowed to be tense but Sam wasn't going to do anything. I mean, I had trouble believing that Sam was the type of person to just screw Dean over and try and steal me from him. Come on. We were talking about Sam here people. Now if tables were switched and Dean was the one sitting next to me; Dean would try and steal me away from Sam hands down and in 3.5 seconds. He wasn't afraid to do bold things right in front of people. Sam on the other hand was; ergo he didn't kiss me in the field. And I could tell in his eyes that he had really wanted to.
Plus Sam wasn't stupid. He had known me all my life and if he tried to kiss me he knew he'd get slapped. I wasn't the type of person to just let shit like that slide and I wouldn't hesitate telling Dean. He knew that. So I was willing to bet I was safe.
"It's okay." I told Dean and he looked at Sam for a moment and then back to me, shifting on his feet. I reached out and squeezed Dean's hand. "Really."
He kissed my knuckles and pushed the beer he had been drinking towards me, offering me the rest. I smiled and took a sip as he went off and asked others about the photo. I looked over at Sam's beer and saw it was a Miller Lite instead of a regular.
"Worrying about your calorie intake?" I asked him with a smile but he didn't say anything as he took another sip of his beer. I sighed. "Come on Sam. We gonna do this dance forever?"
"What dance?" He asked me, not looking up from reading the menu that he'd found leaning against the ketchup at the end of the table.
"Ya know, one of us does something stupid and the other gets mad. We don't talk to each other, then we yell and then we make up." I took another sip of Dean's beer. "Then we start all over again. It's the dance we do. And honestly, I hate it."
He looked at me now, I could feel his eyes burn a hole in the side of my head. "It's not cake for me either. You always end up stepping on my feet."
Right, the dance moves were totally my fault all the time. I rolled my eyes. "Like you've never stepped on mine? It was an accident Sam."
"The falling was." He said quietly. "What happened with me wasn't."
I felt uncomfortable now and I think he knew that because he shifted away from me. I didn't think he was a freaking Leper. I just wanted to put this all behind us and start anew. Like we were when we picked him up from Stanford. But I guess things had always been like this and I just hadn't noticed how long I had been actually dancing. No wonder I was tired.
"And I know you just wanna go back to being friends." Could he read my mind? "But I can't. Because with you…I've never just been friends." He said quietly and I could feel the emotion hang on him like drenched clothes.
So what? He'd be in love till it killed him? Till Dean gave up or till I slapped him? He couldn't live like that. It wasn't natural. I said this as nicely as I could, seeing as how I knew how it felt to love someone when the other person wouldn't love you the same way. Everyone knew how that felt. "You have to get over this. Okay? I mean I know with our job it's hard to meet people." That's why I felt so special I found love in Dean. "But it'll happen one day. I promise."
I didn't promise a lot of things because I found it hard to keep them. But I promised Sam that with all my heart and I intended on keeping it.
He looked at me, eyes filled with an emotion that I couldn't name. "You can't promise me that."
No. I couldn't. But I could sure as hell try.
O0o0o0o0
"What's this guy's name, again?" I asked as we rounded the corner and went up another flight of stairs of the apartment complex.
"George Darrow." Dean said, flipping the photo around between his fingers. "Apparently quite the regular at Lloyd's. Actually, the table you had asked right before you sat down knew him." He gave me this face that made me feel I couldn't get information from people. Like I hadn't asked the right questions that would help gain anything useful.
"How's it feel to know your girlfriend was being stared at by those three? I couldn't even ask a question without one of them looking at my chest. I seriously thought I saw their hands move towards me." Okay, that was a lie but I could see it was making Dean shiver with a little bit of protective anger.
But he covered that up easily. "Isn't your chest supposed to help us get more information?"
"Okay," Sam said interrupting. I shoved Dean anyways and went to walk on front of them. He chuckled and ran up after me as Sam continued talking. "So this guy lives in a shitty apartment, whatever kind of deal he made…"
"It wasn't for cash." Dean said and I could feel his breath hot against my back. I reached the top of the stairs and felt his arms encircle me, pulling me close to him so he could kiss my head. "Ah, who knows? Maybe his place is full of babes in Princess Leia bikinis."
I scoffed and pulled away, knocking on the apartment we'd been looking for. "Good, you can take one of those girls with you."
Dean frowned and placed a hand on my back. "Who said I wanted anything to do with those girls? We can just borrow one of those bikinis and…" He eyed me making me smile. "We're all set."
I kissed his cheek, despite the bad backpedaling he was trying to pull and I eyed something on the ground outside the door. "Look at that." I said suddenly.
"What is that, pepper?" Dean asked, kneeling down to examine it. It could have been, seeing as how when George opened the door some of it puffed in a cloud around Dean's face and he sneezed.
"Who the hell are you?" George asked as Dean stood back up and rubbed his nose. He pulled out tissue from his leather jacket pocket and blew his nose as Sam asked him if he was George Darrow. He looked at us oddly. "I'm not buying anything."
He went to close to door but Dean shoved the tissue in his pocket and stopped him. "Whoa, whoa. Looks like you went for the wrong shaker there." George looked at him confused. "Usually, when you want to keep something evil out, you go for the salt."
He looked at us like he was afraid and he had no idea how that look usually let a person know exactly what you were thinking. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"I'm talking about this." Dean held up the photo and George narrowed his eyes at us.
"See that hellhound yet?" I asked, almost smugly. Maybe I shouldn't be talking to this guy. I would wind up telling him how goddamn stupid he was.
"Look, we wanna help. Please, just five minutes." Sam begged him and I almost rolled my eyes. This guy didn't need our help. You couldn't help him; he was already dying. That's like wasting your time trying to help a cancer patient that was announced terminal. You could spend all the five minutes you wanted trying to save them but it still wouldn't change anything.
George invited us inside and I took a look around. Decent place; for a shitty apartment complex. It was actually like a little art studio, at least the room we were in was. It took up his kitchen and living area but I bet the bedroom and bathroom wasn't cluttered like this. Everywhere you looked was pastels, paints, jugs of water, pencils, paintbrushes; like I said, art studio. I saw the paintings that were stacked up against each other still framed and some still on their easels. Some weren't finished but the ones that were were amazingly done.
"Wow." I commented quietly, leaning one painting up to look at another. They all differed. From amazing bold and bright colors to dark and dreary ones. But they all resembled black heritage. I looked at George. "Did you do all these?" Stupid question to ask I know but you wouldn't believe how many people had help when they painted. He nodded at me and sat on a stool. "They're amazing."
He smiled faintly but then frowned; like I just insulted him somehow. "You want one? Take one. They never did me any good."
I jutted my lower lip out before biting it slightly. Sure I wanted one. But where the hell was I gonna put it? Above the fireplace in the dining room I didn't have? I knew Dean and Sam wouldn't be too happy if I took a painting and shoved it in the trunk and it took up the space all the time. Eventually, I could see Dean throwing it out.
"So, what is that stuff out front?" Sam asked and leaned against the front door.
"Goofer dust." He replied and smirked off of our confused looks. "Oh, you people think you know somethin' about somethin' but not goofer dust?" He tossed a bag of dust to Dean and he smirked, catching it easily and pocketing it.
He roamed closer to me and leaned against an art supply drawer that resembled a dresser. "Well, we know a little about a lot of things. Just enough to make us dangerous."
"Mr. Darrow, we know you're in trouble." Sam said what Dean and I wouldn't. Because it was this own man's fault and we found no way to actually help him. "There's gotta be something we can do."
"Listen…I get that you boys wanna help. But sometimes, a person makes their bed, and they've just got to lie down in it. I'm the one that called that demon in the first place."
I looked up at him and nodded. At least he was taking somewhat of a responsibility for the boneheaded decision he had made. "What'd you do it for?" I asked even though I knew what it was probably for. Those paintings were amazing.
"Who don't want their life to mean something?" He asked and looked around the room. "'Course, I asked for talent. Should've gone for fame. I'm still broke…and lonely. Just now, I've got this pile of paintings nobody wants."
As much as I hated myself for it I felt bad for the guy. See? I knew I was a hypocrite.
"Course that wasn't the worse part. The demon didn't leave. After our deal was done, the damn thing stayed at Lloyd's for a week, just chattin', makin' more deals. I tried to warn folks, but who's gonna listen to an old drunk?"
"How many others are there?" Sam asked.
George cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. I felt bad he had to pay for everyone's deals and not just his own. That, beyond his bad decision, he didn't deserve. "This architect, a doctor lady –- I kept up with them. They've been in the papers. The last one, nice guy." What nice people couldn't sell their souls? "Hudson –- Evan, I think. I don't know what he asked for. Don't matter now. He's done for."
"No. No, there's gotta be a way." Sam had to learn to let go.
"You don't get it. I don't want a way." He said and when Sam tried to interrupt he stood, nearly exploding. "I called that thing! I brought it on myself! I brought it on them! I'm going to hell one way or another."
His voice was shuddering as he spoke and for some reason I saw John doing the same. It tore me inside and I reached for Dean, squeezing the hell out of his hand.
"All I want is to finish my last painting –- day or two, I'm done. I'm just trying to hold 'em off till then. Buy a little time." He said sadly and turned towards the painting he had been working on before we interrupted. It was a lone black man standing underneath a moon. He was in shackles and they were holding him to the ground. It didn't represent slavery. It represented his deal. "Go help somebody that wants help."
"You don't really wanna die." I said quietly. Nobody cared that little about themselves.
"I don't?" He asked me and I looked at the floor. I shouldn't have said that. He looked at me like I didn't know him and I didn't. "I'm tired." He said with a shake of his head.
Sam and Dean exchanged a look and started heading towards the door.
"Hey." He said and we all turned around. He approached me with a painting; it was as big as a binder would be and I smiled, taking it from him. "You're the only one who ever told me you liked them." He said somewhat fondly and I held the painting close to my chest. "Thank you."
Dean pulled on my arm and we left. As I walked back to the car I looked at the painting. It was dreary but I loved it. It was the moon above a lake. One lone boat in the water. It was clear that the Reaper was guiding the boat but the water was filled with colors from the moonlight. I smiled sadly as I looked at it one more time before placing it in the trunk. It didn't take up much space and I begged Dean not to pitch it one day.
He smiled and kissed the side of my head, promising me he wouldn't.
O0o0o0o0o
We looked Evan Hudson up and found that he lived about an hour away from Lloyds. Long way to go to a bar but I figure if you want a drink that bad. You're not gonna complain about how far you gotta travel.
"How are we gonna swing this?" I asked as Sam knocked on the door. Sam just kind of shrugged as Evan opened the door. He looked tired and extremely not thrilled to see someone on his porch. He looked like he just wanted to be left alone. Hey, I was all for that plan.
"Evan Hudson?" Sam asked and Evan nodded.
"You ever been to a bar called Lloyd's? It would've been about ten years ago." Evan slammed the door in our faces. I was really glad we thought this thing out and everything. "Come on, we're not demons!" Dean yelled and I scoffed.
"Right, like that's really gonna help. I can literally see him running back to the door to open it." I said wryly and Dean stuck his tongue out at me. "Any other bright ideas?"
Dean shrugged momentarily and then wailed his foot at the door, knocking it down. Honestly, that was hot. But I refused to let Dean see that when he cockily smiled at me. I rolled my eyes as Sam and I followed him inside.
We saw Evan rush into his office and Dean was about to kick the door down again when Sam grabbed his leg. He tried the handle and it unlocked and I snickered, seeing Dean roll his eyes and follow Sam inside.
"Evan?" Sam asked and Evan nearly fell over his desk when he saw us. "We're not gonna hurt you, all right? We're here to help you."
Dean nodded and sighed. "Yeah, we know all about the genius deal you made."
Now he looked at us like we were crazy. Eh, didn't faze us. If I had a penny for all times people had looked at us like that… "What? How?" And a nickel for all the times people looked like they wanted to swallow that notion after we saved their asses.
Sam shook his head and approached Evan slowly while Dean and I just kind of stood back at and watched. "Doesn't matter. All that matters is we're trying to stop it."
"I don't wanna die." Evan said, voice shaking.
"Of course you don't. Not now." I said, almost spat at him.
"Andy." Sam rolled his head around and glared at me. I shrugged. What?
"What'd you ask for, anyway, huh? Never need Viagra, bowl a perfect game, what?" Dean asked, giving Sam a look that said 'back the fuck off.'
"My wife." Evan said and looked at his shoes.
A laugh boiled in my chest and it kind of just came out in a snort. "Right, gettin' the girl. Well, that's worth a trip to hell for." I said sarcastically and leaned against the doorframe.
Sam stepped foreword and shouted at me. "Andy, stop." Dean looked like he was fed up and stood in front of me, preventing Sam from getting closer.
"No." Evan said quietly and we all looked to him. "She's right. I made the deal. Nobody twisted my arm. That woman, or whatever she was, at the bar –- she said I could have anything I wanted. I thought she was nuts at first, but…" He sighed. "I don't know. I was…I was desperate…Julie was dying."
"You did it to save her?" Dean asked and suddenly Evan was looking a hell of a lot like John.
"She had cancer. I'd do it again. I'd have died for her on the spot." Evan said proudly and I scoffed.
"You think that makes you some kind of hero?" I asked him harshly, walking past Sam and Dean and stood in front of him. I crossed my arms over my chest. "Did you ever think about her in all this?"
Evan seemed confused. "I did this for her."
He wasn't confused. He was fucking stupid. "Did you ever think about what her life is gonna be like without you?" My voice was shaking, a little bit because I was thinking about what life would have been like without Dean if John wouldn't have made that deal. "How broken she's gonna be."
Dean put a hand on my shoulder and I shook him off, running a hand through my hair and walking back over to the doorframe. I faced my back to them as some tears drifted down my face.
"What if she knew how much it cost?" Dean asked sadly making more tears breach my eyelids. He seemed so unhappy to be alive. "What if she knew it cost your soul? How do you think she'd feel?"
"Okay, that's enough." Sam said and I nodded, wiping some tears away with my wrist. He was right. Enough. If Dean was unhappy to be alive, I didn't want to hear about it. "Evan, sit tight, all right? We're gonna figure this out."
Sam and Dean walked past me and I joined them further down the hall and leaned against the front door.
"You okay?" Dean asked me and I nodded and didn't say anything. I could tell he knew I wasn't.
"What about you?" Sam asked him.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be? Hey, I've got an idea." He took out the Goofer dust from his jacket pocket and handed it to Sam. "You throw George's hoodoo at that hellhound. Keep it away from Evan as long as you can. I'm gonna go to the crossroads and summon the demon."
"Summon –- are you nuts?" Sam asked him and he looked at me to back him up. I just shrugged at him, looking at the floor.
Dean was looking at me too, concerned I wasn't saying anything and just watching my feet shift against the nice wooden floors. "Maybe a little. But I can trap it. I can exorcise it, and I can buy us time to figure out something more permanent."
Sam scoffed. "No. No way. I'm not letting you summon that demon. And even though Andy the Mime over there isn't saying anything I know she doesn't want you to summon the damn thing either."
"What's the matter baby?" Dean asked again, a little more urgent this time and I just glared at him. He looked taken back for a minute but then processed what Sam was saying. "And why the hell not?"
"Because I don't like where your head is at right now, that's why not."
"What are you talking about?" Like he didn't know. It was the same tone he had when his Dad was brought up. He knew what Sam was talking about.
I sniffled and wiped my eyes again. "Crossroads are where deals are made." I said quietly. "Like we're all not thinking about the one big deal your dad made."
Dean just looked at me, pain evident in his eyes. "It fits, doesn't it? I'm alive, Dad's dead. The yellow-eyed demon was involved." He reached a hand up to wipe the tear tracks off my face. "What if he did? What if he struck a deal? My life for his soul."
"It's not your fault." I said firmly. "You need to stop hating your father for wanting you to live."
"It was selfish Andy." Dean spat. Not pissed at me but at John.
"He loved you." I said suddenly and tears filled my eyes again. Dean couldn't look at me like he was angry anymore. Not with the waterworks I was pulling. "I love you." I was the biggest hypocrite I knew. "I'd do the same thing." I admitted quietly and Dean pulled me into a tight hug, gently rocking me and kissing my head.
Sam just stood by and watched us quietly and I could tell he was thinking the same thing. Great, I'm glad all of us were willing to die for one another. That didn't make anything better or easier to deal with.
"I think I hear it!" Evan screamed and Dean pulled away. "It's outside!"
He kissed me, hard on the lips, partly because he was pushing me towards Sam. "Just keep him alive, okay?"
Sam just looked at him. "Dean?"
"Go!" He yelled and left.
We really had no choice. No matter what Dean was going to do at the crossroads.
O0o0o000
"What is that stuff?" Evan asked as Sam and I sprinkled the Goofer dust around the window and closed the doors to the office, lining a trail like at George's place.
"Goofer dust." Sam said and made a circle around Evan with it.
Evan laughed and I felt like hitting him. "Are you serious?"
Sam finished off the back and threw it to the side, looking around to make sure he had all his bases covered.
"Yeah, afraid so." I said going to stand next to Sam. "Look, believe us, don't believe us, whatever you want. Just –- whatever you do, stay inside the circle, all right?" I gave him an order and he nodded. He better follow it, his life depended on it.
After a few minutes or so Evan looked at us alarmed. "You hear that?" He asked.
We shook our heads no. Shit. Hellhounds weren't after us, we wouldn't be able to hear them. I pulled Sam to stand in the circle with me. "It's barking." Evan panicked. "Right outside the doors."
"Just stay in the circle."
The door started shaking on it's hinges and Sam and I looked at each other, a bit panicked. But I firmly believed that Goofer dust would hold strong. Suddenly the door stopped moving and I looked to Evan.
"You hear anything?" I asked him and he listened for a moment and then shook his head. "It can't be over unless..Dean…"
I looked at Sam again and he shook his head. "No, Dean's fine." He assured me.
I smiled at him, thanking him even though his assurance was pretty much empty. Dean was far from being alright.
Suddenly, a vent we hadn't noticed on the other side of the room burst open and obviously a hellhound crawled through it. Even though we couldn't see it.
"It's here!" Evan screamed and I rolled my eyes. Obviously. What the hell else did he think did that to the vent? Dust bunnies? Those were real though. Nasty little buggers. They reminded me of some type of troll but are incredibly tiny with a really disgusting hankering for dust. You get some of those suckers living in between your couch, trust me when I say its hard to get rid of them.
Claw marks began appearing on the wooden floor, just behind the line of dust and Evan moved to get away.
"Evan stop!" I grabbed his arm but he ended up pulling me so I let him. I turned so that I was blocking him from moving; my one foot ended up just outside the line of dust as I pushed him back into the circle. "What part of don't move don't you understand?" I spat.
Unfortunately, God makes sure that no good deed goes unpunished and a hellhound dug its claws into the back of my leg, pulling its nails all the way down from the back of my knee to my ankle. I screamed in pain and buckled as I couldn't hold my weight on one leg. Sam rushed foreword and caught me, holding me upright and bringing me back into the circle.
I cried in pain and looked down at my leg. Three deep lines were outlining my jeans as blood started to seep through the fabric. I clenched onto Sam, mostly because of the pain and Sam shifted me, picking me up in his arms.
"You're okay." Sam soothed. "I got ya."
I clenched my teeth and refused to let the pain get the better of me. But Jesus, it hurt like hell. I could tell I would need stitches too. There was no way in hell that I wouldn't. I could feel blood seep out of my wounds and drip against the floor.
Evan took off his work shirt and tied it around my leg and I whimpered and buried my face into Sam's shoulder. I guess Evan felt bad about me getting torn into. Asshole. I guess a shirt was all it was worth, seeing as how the hellhounds were breathing against the Goofer Dust, making it shift. Evan only had minutes if Dean couldn't do anything.
Suddenly everything stopped and Evan sighed in relief.
"Are they gone?" Sam asked and Evan nodded.
"What the hell happened?" He asked us and Sam shrugged. I could feel his eyes on me as I breathed heavily against his shoulder.
"Good question."
O0o0o0o0o0
Sam sat on the porch steps, shifting me in his arms. We had to wait for Dean to come back with the Impala.
"How you doing?" Sam asked me and glanced at the blood filled shirt.
"What? Evan too ungrateful for the life saving that we couldn't sit on his couch?" I asked. I smiled at Sam even though I couldn't wait for the painkillers we had at the motel. I think we still had some left over from the time I had gotten stitches in my stomach.
Sam smiled and chuckled. "He probably figures he's all even for giving you his shirt."
"Shirts not doing any good anyway. I think the cuts are really deep." I said and grimaced as Sam squeezed the fabric around my leg. I leaned against him and he brought up his arms around me. It felt good hugging him. I hadn't been this close to Sam in a long time and I missed him.
I heard the Impala rev as it came up aside Evan's house and I never heard the engine stop as Dean approached us. He had literally parked and jumped out of the car when he saw me.
"What happened?" He asked and Sam stood, passing me to Dean.
I rubbed my face against his leather jacket, his scent instantly calming me. It was utterly amazing how he did that without even trying. His one arm rubbed my back and the other tightened its hold underneath my knees as he brought me down to the car, putting me inside.
"Hellhounds scratched her leg pretty good." Sam said as he jumped into the drivers seat. Dean sat me on his lap in the back seat and closed the door.
"How bad is it?" He asked me gently and ran a hand down my back.
I shrugged. "Three scratches down my leg. I think they're pretty deep." I said somewhat scared and Dean kissed my lips, pulling me into him. He rocked me from side to side and I knew he wouldn't stop until I felt completely better.
"What hospital was closest? Do you remember seeing any that we passed?" Sam asked Dean as we pulled away form Evan's house.
I shook my head no, pulling up from Dean. "We can't go to a hospital." I said and Dean looked at me somewhat crazily.
"Andy you need stitches."
"We can't alright? How many times have we been to the hospital this year? Mostly because it was my fault?" Dean looked at me, sympathizing a little. "We can't Dean. We used to many credit cards and every time we head to the hospital we use another one. One day it's gonna catch up okay? And I'm not gonna be the downfall for it. This isn't an emergency."
"What do you want me to do?" He asked me angrily and I gripped the back of his shoulder as a small surge of pain shot up my leg. He sighed, some anger depleting as he saw my eyes fill with pain and ran his fingers through my hair, trying to calm me.
"Your dad was ex-marine." I said quietly. "I know you know how to do it." I said suddenly and Dean cocked his head at me.
"No. No, I'm not doing that. Sam give me a map." He said angrily and Sam popped open the glove compartment, handing him one. "I'm not stitching up your leg without some type of morphine drip. Forget it." He said harshly.
"Dean…" I said, getting angry now. I tore the map away from him as Sam pulled the car up to a red light. "Come on, stop thinking about me and think about all of us for a second. We can't get caught alright? Your dad didn't just bring you back to life to get caught by the police."
Dean was obviously pissed and upset with what I had said and I knew I shouldn't have said that to motivate him. But my leg was throbbing and the sight of blood was making me nauseous. I was angry and I was in pain; he knew that. But he couldn't tell me that I wasn't right.
Sam turned the clicker off. "Dean what am I doing?" He asked, because that's all he knew how to do. Follow.
Dean sighed, running hand through his hair. "Go back to the motel."
I leaned my head back against his chest and he held me to him despite the fact I knew he was mad at me. He had stopped rocking me the moment I had said that comment about his father.
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"Alright, Sam, I need you to get the scotch, the first aid kid and a few towels." Dean carried me into the room and sat me on the bed. He propped up some of the pillows and I leaned against them. Sam was bustling around the room, grabbing the things Dean had told him to.
"You know you're not gonna be able to take those painkillers till that alcohol washes itself out of your system." Dean said quietly and gently rolled up my pant leg. "Sam get the scissors too."
"It's in the first aid kit." Sam said, setting it on the bed and handing me the scotch. He disappeared into the bathroom to get some towels.
"I know." I said, taking a huge gulp of the liquid and grimaced as it burned my throat. Dean cut my jeans and Sam placed a towel underneath my leg.
"You sure you want me to do this?" Dean asked and I nodded.
"I'm sure." I said even though my voice quaked and tears breached my eyelids. Dean shook his head and came closer to me, hugging me tightly and kissing my head.
"Okay," He cleared his throat, like he was mentally preparing himself to do this. I felt like a jackass now. This would be hard for Dean just like it was hard for me. He didn't want to do this, he didn't want to cause me any pain and I felt like I should have apologized for it. But I was afraid if I did he wouldn't do it. So I sat back and drank the alcohol. "I need you to lay on your stomach so I can get to them."
I took a deep breath and turned over on my stomach taking one more big gulp of alcohol before setting it on the floor. I saw Sam sit next to me and he popped open the first aid kid and I glanced inside. John, being an ex-marine, had a suture needle and string that was stolen from a hospital. I have no idea how he got his hands on the stuff but we were lucky we had stuff like that at our hands in case we needed it. The scotch easily got me buzzed and I was already feeling the slow effect of numbness.
"Here." Sam handed him the stuff and Dean took off his leather jacket and placed it on the bedside table, rolling up his sleeves.
"The other ones don't look so bad." He said, taking a long look. "The middle one's the only one that's gonna need the stitches."
Sam poured some disinfectant on the hand towel and handed it to Dean. Out of all the pain going on tonight, the slight sting of the antiseptic was the last thing I had to worry about. Dean gently rubbed the towel down my skin and I sighed, trying not to yelp or move against him.
He threw the bloody towel aside and grabbed the needle, standing up to grab a lighter out of one of the duffels. He flicked it on and the flame licked the needle, sterilizing it.
"Sam," Dean said quietly and Sam looked up at him. "Would you hold her?" I watched Sam's face contort ever so slightly and I could tell it was paining Dean just to say it. "So she doesn't move." Sam was the last person Dean wanted touching me. But he didn't have a choice. He couldn't stitch me up and hold me down all at once. If I moved while he was doing this I could end up hurting myself.
Sam didn't say anything; he understood. He just put the first aid kit down on the edge of the bed and grabbed a pillow to place on his lap. He then picked me up underneath my arms and gently placed my chest against the pillow. I wrapped my arms around his waist, holding him tightly. I felt the bed dip with weight as Dean sat back down.
He reached across the bed and ran a hand through my hair and I knew his eyes were angry and possessive as I felt Sam's arms come across my back to hold me still. Dean left a long kiss on my head, pushing his nose against my hair. Was that enough to inform Sam I was his?
"Ready?" He asked Sam and me both. I nodded against the pillow and Sam muttered a soft yeah.
The first two stitches I didn't really feel. I wasn't sure if it was the alcohol or if my body hadn't recognized I was in pain yet. But by the ninth stitch I was muffling loud cries against the pillow. Dean was trying to hurry but I knew I at least needed twenty stitches. I was gripping the back of Sam and he held me tight, rubbing my back and telling me it was all okay. Fifteenth stitch.
Dean was holding my other leg from buckling every so often, because I was sure that around the eighteenth stitch I had no control over my body because I was paying attention to the pain I was in. They were just stitches and it was amazing to me that it felt like my leg was on fire. This was the worst idea in history and I could have hit myself for it. I was sobbing as the twentieth stitch went in and I felt Dean cut the string and tie it.
I was breathing heavily and Sam offered to switch places with Dean to patch me up. Dean nodded almost hastily and got off the bed, gently lifting me to slid underneath. Sam took the pillow and put it on the other bed as Dean laid down instead of sitting like Sam had done. He placed me on his chest and I rubbed my face into his shoulder, clutching his t-shirt as the sobs died off. I could tell my skin was red and swollen from where he had sewed and Sam carefully tried to wrap gauze around my leg without causing me much more pain.
Dean rubbed a hand along my back while the other held my head to his chest. "It's over." He said quietly. "It's over, you're okay." My breaths were hiccupping as I tried to calm myself down and I kissed Dean's shoulder, closing my eyes. "Shhh.." His breath whistled as that word finished and he placed his lips to my head, kissing me tenderly over and over.
"Done." Sam said as he finished the gauze and closed up the kit. I opened my eyes to watch him get up from the bed and pick up the towel.
"Hey Sam." Dean said, grabbing his attention.
"Yeah?" He asked, turning.
Dean smiled. I could feel it against my head. "Thanks."
Sam smiled too and nodded. I rolled my eyes, but only slightly. At least they were smiling at each other.
"I'm glad you two were brought closer together by my leg being torn up." I said suddenly and Dean laughed, making Sam's smile grow.
Sam sat on the same bed we were on and turned on the TV and lowered the volume. "You should get some sleep." He said suddenly, looking down at me.
I nodded, hearing the news and then a basketball game play on the TV. "Yeah, I will in a minute." I said drowsily. Sam got up from the bed and grabbed the duffel, heading into the bathroom to brush his teeth and change clothes. "You gonna want to change your clothes too?" I asked Dean and he shook his head and tightened his arms around me.
"No, I wanna hold you." He said softly, kissing my head. "I wish I could have been there to help." He said after a few moments.
I moved my head, even though it felt like an anvil; the joys of alcohol ladies and gents and placed my chin on Dean's chest to look into his eyes. "You were helping. Just someplace else. It was my fault anyways. I knew I shouldn't have tried to save that guy's life by pushing him out of the way." I smiled at Dean, even though it was a bit pained as I shifted my legs.
Dean smirked, cupping my cheek. "Yeah, I thought I told you to stop doing shit like that."
He leaned down and kissed my nose and I snuggled my face back onto his chest. He reached across the bed and grabbed his leather jacket, covering me like a blanket with it.
"Dean…" I said after a few moments and he looked at me, pulling his attention from the game on the TV. "When you were at the crossroads, summoning that demon, you didn't try and make a deal right? You'd never do that?"
He cupped my face with both of his hands. "I'd never do that." His voice was reassuring, not one hint of fibbing. "I wouldn't leave you here by yourself."
I nodded and positioned my head back on his shoulder, closing my eyes. Good thing. Because offering his soul, even if he was doing it to save me, would only do one thing.
It'd kill me.
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reviews are very welcome :D it keeps me posting :D