Here you have it, the final chapter. I hope you've liked the story! I plan to rewrite some of the chapters, so stay tuned for that, and there will be a sequel too. Hope you've enjoyed the story and will stick with me for the sequel and rewrite :D
Jill, thank you so much for your review. These are the reviews that help me write and get better, thank you :D As I said earlier, I'm going to rewrite some of the chapters, and you're advice will most definately be taken on board when I'm rewriting. Thanks again! Hugs and cookies to you, and everyone who has reviewed this story!
No one moved. The echo of the shot faded around them as Jason stared at Mary, and Mary stared at Jason. For that split second, they were alone, simply staring each other down in cold hatred.
And then the blood started to soak into the black fabric, creating an ever-growing darker stain on the shirt.
Jason's arm fell away from Sam's neck, and he fell to his knees. Sam cried out, his eyes shut and he stumbled sideways. Jason touched the bullet hole in his shoulder, and he winced slightly. Dan stared in surprise, his grip loosening on Dean. The teenager struggled from the man's grip, kicking him in the groin and sending him to the ground before running to Sam.
Mary's pistol was held straight out, shaking only slightly. John moved towards Dan, shotgun still raised and now aimed at the tattooed man. Mary stepped up to Jason, looking down.
"You shot me," Jason said, as if he couldn't quite believe it. He looked up at her strangely.
"I wasn't going to let you hurt Sam," Mary said.
Jason glanced back at the wound in his shoulder and frowned.
Before anyone could move, Jason's arm swung upwards, handgun pointed straight at Sam and Dean a few paces away. Mary aimed her pistol at his head, the muzzle wavering only millimetres from his forehead. Dean saw and moved quickly to be in front of Sam.
Two more shots rang out in quick succession. Dean felt something whistle past his ear, and watched as Jason collapsed, blood pouring from the small bullet wound in his forehead. His eyes were blank and cold, his body lifeless. He fell backwards, his head hitting the pavement with a thud. Sam whimpered in terror. Mary stared at the body of her husband, blood no longer pumping from the hole.
She whipped around to see if Jason had hit Sam or Dean.
"Dean? Dean, you okay?" John asked from where he was standing, still pointing the shotgun at Dan.
"I'm fine. He missed," the teenager replied shakily.
Sam mumbled from behind Dean, and the older brother turned to calm him. He hugged him, running a hand through his hair.
"I can promise you now Sam, he isn't coming back. Ever, ever again. He's gone for good this time. He's dead," Dean said quietly.
Sam held onto Dean tightly, his body shaking with fear and tears.
Mary glanced at John, who lookedover to meet her gaze. They exchanged a look that held so much. Pain, fear, relief, hatred, anger, happiness, grief, loss; all was passed between the two former partners in a split second.
And then from down the street, police sirens began to wail, the cars racing up towards them.
Mary sighed, watching the muscular man being pushed into a police car, handcuffed. She shook her head and walked towards her sons. She'd managed to avoid giving away too much information to the cops, but she wanted to get out of there as soon as possible and leave the hellhole behind. Sam and Dean were sat on the doorstep of the flat, still holding onto each other. The tears had stopped, but Sam was still trembling. Dean glanced at her as she knelt in front of them. The look said it all. The wary trust was obvious in his eyes. She knew it would still be a long time before Sam or Dean ever trusted her or John fully, but she also knew that the day would come. Eventually.
"Sam?" she asked softly, keeping her eyes on Dean. He merely blinked.
Sam shot her a quick look, fear clouding his eyes. She smiled.
"Hey Sam. It's gonna be okay. Everything's gonna be okay," she whispered.
She ran a hand through his hair, and he flinched at her touch. She drew back, biting her lip. Yes, it would take a long time, but the day would come when they would be able to trust again. She was sure of it.
"Why did you shoot him? He could have shot Sam," Dean said quietly.
Mary looked at him in surprise. It was the first time he'd spoken to her; at least, without pure hatred shaping his voice.
"It was the only thing I could do. If I hadn't shot him, he would have gotten away with Sam. I knew the risks, but the knowledge of what he would do to Sam if he got away was far worse," she said.
Dean nodded, "I'm not saying you did the wrong thing. I guess I was just..."
He trailed off and looked back to Sam. The kid was leaning against his chest, still shaking. Mary swallowed and gave Dean a small smile.
"I know."
/\/\
John watched the three from a distance. The cop he had just been talking to walked away, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He smiled a little when he saw Dean talking to Mary. From the look on her face, he wasn't speaking with animosity or hate. It was a step in the right direction. He just hoped that they would all keep stepping in the right direction, and that none of the past few weeks would come back to haunt them. He knew it would take a while for Sam to recover, and a while for Dean to trust his father again, but time was what they needed. Eventually, John knew, things would go back to normal.