Face Your Fears

Marissa froze as she entered the one place she did not want to be. Her own personal hell. She knew it the instant the rocky terrain gave way to rain slicked pavement as the rain pounded down. She could hear the ocean slamming into the shore and she saw the faint lights from the city behind her. She was halfway to the shore already, near exhausted. Her legs were aching but she didn't slow down even as her chest started to burn and tighten. She couldn't stop.

"Ge' back here ya little whore!" slurred Richard as he chased after her.

He was in his prime, young and fit, and despite being so drunk he couldn't walk in a straight line he was chasing her. Marissa ran, desperate to get away before he sold her again. She remembered the pain from the last man –she was sure that there had been no kindness in him. Tears streaked down her cheeks as she headed for the boat that she had seen earlier. Soon he would be taking passengers and leaving this place.

She didn't care where he was going, but she did care about getting away from Richard. She could hear his heavy footsteps thumping into the wet puddles behind her and knew that he was gaining on her. There was no way that she could outrun him in her condition.

She skidded to a stop and then darted to the side. She didn't know where she was going now, but she did know that it had thrown Richard off enough that he had fallen. She could hear him swearing behind her. She headed back to the docks, determined to get away from Richard –there was nowhere else for her to go but to that boat. Her lungs felt as though they were on fire and every breath she took was agonizing, as though she processed less and less oxygen each breath.

Her head start on Richard wouldn't do her much good in the long run, she knew. The pavement ended and she kept going, stumbling forwards and nearly falling. She slammed her hands onto the shore and they skidded across some sharp rocks which dug into her skin, cutting through flesh. Sand burst up from the earth, flying towards her and pelting against her face. She was glad she had shut her eyes for impact. She pushed herself back up, her knee skimming the ground as she raced towards the dock. She could only just see it, and beyond it was the black ocean thrashing violently. Lights. She could see faint lights and she knew that that had to be the boat, she stumbled again, her body forcing her to slow down. She didn't know how close Richard was to her, but she trusted that because she couldn't hear him he had to be back still.

She jogged as fast as her body would let her, taking in huge gulps of air that burned worse each breath she took. Her chest ached so terribly, but she wasn't going to let it stop her. She saw the lights move further away, fearing that the boat was going to leave without her started to run again.

But there was nowhere to go. The dock beneath her was gone, her last step sending her flying out towards the ocean. She didn't even have a second to hold her breath as she plummeted into the icy water. She kicked, arms flailing to try and get back to the surface and expel the water she had just inhaled. Her eyes watered and she couldn't see anything but she felt her arm break through and her head followed. She coughed, once, expelling the fluid she had nearly inhaled when a swell slammed into her, knocking the air out of her and sending her tumbling back down into the darkness.

She fought again to try and get to the surface, but her body felt so sluggish and her chest ached. She wasn't going to die to get away from Richard –that had never been her plan. She hadn't even met Sam yet. She hadn't done enough. She wasn't going to die here –she couldn't die here. She just managed to break to the surface, completely exhausted when another wave rolled into her. It tossed her like she was a ragdoll, slamming her against the wharf.

Pain flared through her back and her limbs wouldn't respond the way she wanted them to. She sank, the waves trying to push her back more and more as she tried to fight it. Something snared her leg and she pulled, trying to get away. It was a weak pull as she attempted to do anything. Her body was so weak. Another wave churned through the ocean, seizing her with it as it tumbled and slammed into the shore. Marissa was unable to accompany it; trapped against the frame of the dock but whatever her foot was caught on ripped through her jeans and she felt it slice open her skin like nothing. And then the pain hit.

A scream was torn from her lips as she could no longer hold her breath and water came flooding into her body. She flailed violently, body tossing and turning and the slicing continued. The ocean again slammed into her frail body, buffeting it roughly against the wooden bars. She had thought her lungs had been burning before, now they had exploded.

She felt so heavy and useless. She couldn't move her body. Her eyelids fell shut, and Marissa was held for a long moment in limbo. It felt as though the ocean had stopped for her, to let her pass away as peacefully as it could. Marissa knew she wouldn't make it to the surface. She didn't have the energy to move any part of her. And somewhere deep inside her, she knew that she was going to die.

Arms grabbed hold of her, jerking her forwards and whatever it was slashed open the back of her leg. The pain was so far away she was barely aware of it –all she could see was whiteness. She was aware of her body being pulled and tugged and then she was tossed inelegantly onto the shore.

Maybe Sam had saved her, some part of her brain wondered. She hoped it was him because if she was about to die she would like to at least see him once and now was as good a time as any.

A harder force slammed into her chest and she spat water up, coughing violently as she rolled over half onto her stomach as she retched violently. Water and debris pooled before her and she barely managed to move away from it. Her eyes watered and stung and her whole body felt broken and beaten. Strong arms helped her to her feet, not that she could stand unaided. Her injured leg gave out under her and a pathetic whimpered cry was torn from her lips. She didn't have the breath or the energy to even cry out. She could barely even keep her eyes open.

"Yer not getting' away that easy," he growled roughly and tossed her over his shoulder and headed back.

She had been fourteen. She never went near the open water again. She didn't stop trying to get away from Richard –she took whatever chance she could afford.

She felt as though the ocean had spat her out as she stumbled and fell down. She took deep breaths of air, holding the ground to make sure that she was really alive. That she was really okay. The memory was mostly blurry, and had been until now. Trembles shook her body and she held still and breathed for as long as she could as she tried to get herself under control. That was why she hated water. Open water anyways, and deep water. It was dangerous just the same. Sure, she liked to observe and listen to the water but she would never ever enter it again. One near death experience was more than enough for her.

She got back to her feet, wiping at her eyes. She shuddered involuntarily and hesitated. She knew that she had to go on because Sam and Dean needed her. She couldn't leave them to die. She couldn't give up here because she was afraid of what might come next.

She knew that she would never have Sam so idealist and practically perfect, but she thought that on his own he was a pretty good human being most of the time. She wouldn't mind those bad days. But it looked more and more like she would never have a chance with him, that he would simply follow his blood addicted path and leave her behind.

She didn't want to have to live through experiences that she had survived. God, she did not want to have anything to do with that. She could only pray that whatever happened next was over and done quickly so that they could retrieve the Nightmare Knife and move on. She wanted to get out of this cave and quickly. Self disgust and loathing bubbled to the surface and she had to fight back her feelings. This wasn't the time for self-pity.

XXI

Dean drove as fast as was possibly safe to do. Well, maybe a little faster than that. He had to get to Andrea. He couldn't let her die. He had to save her. Sam was distracting Hypnos with Marissa and together they were going to be able to kill the bastard while Dean saved Andrea. He could only hope that after her being held for so long that she was going to be okay. He didn't really expect that she would be okay, but he believed that she would alive seeing as how Hypnos needed Marissa present as well.

Dean kept driving and driving even as he sped. He stopped for gas only when it was absolutely necessary as he continued on. He grew exhausted and took only a few short hour naps when he had no other choice. He managed to make the two day trip into one.

He threw the Impala into park and raced out towards the shack into the middle of nowhere. Outside, tied to a post he caught sight of a rusty dress fluttering in the breeze. He felt guilt seize his heart and he hoped that she wasn't dead as he ran over, pulling his knife out.

Andrea looked thin, too thin and too pale, but he could see her chest moving. As he worked on cutting the ropes off he noticed that her breaths were growing shallower. Hurriedly he cut her free and gently set her down. He leaned close too her chest, feeling the rise and fall of her chest without blocking it. He pulled back worriedly, looking at her. It was a several hour's drive to the hospital no matter which direction he took.

Her eyelids fluttered and she opened her eyes, smiling wanly. "D-Dean?" she murmured thickly, eyes half open.

"Yeah Andie, it's me," he smiled softly, not letting his emotions through. He couldn't risk upsetting her by letting her seeing just how worried he was. If he had to, he could use CPR but he doubted that it would really do much for her at this point. He wasn't sure what was wrong with her. "How're you feeling?"

"Tired," she yawned softly. "And a little hungry, I think. It's been a long time, hasn't it?"

"Yeah, yeah it sure has," he smiled kindly at her and set his hand over hers. "Andie, I'm gonna get you out of here. Okay?"

"Okay Deanie," she giggled weakly, coughing exhaustedly as she smiled up at him.

"I'm sorry it took so long…"

"Don't worry about it Dean."

He rubbed her hand and grabbed his cell out, dialing the emergency number. He told the ambulance his location and knew that he would have to leave Andrea as soon as they were close enough before he got arrested. He didn't want to though. He figured that he could probably make it to the hospital and make sure that she had insurance and everything before he left her. He needed to know that she was going to be okay.

He looked back at her and felt his heart drop. Her eyes were shut and she was barely breathing. He leaned close to her and listened to her breaths. She was not doing well at all. He pulled back, looking at her. She was all skin and bones and there were a few old injuries on her –none of them were too serious. Feeling the need to do something he started to wrap the wounds so that they wouldn't start bleeding when the paramedics moved her. His shirt was in tatters by the time he was done and her breathing was even less pronounced. He could have left her to get the first-aid kit but he wasn't going to until he had no other choice.

He gently opened her mouth and knew that soon he was going to have to try something. Dean refused to admit that she was going to die. He was going to keep her alone if he had to but she was not going to die! As soon as she stopped breathing he started CPR. He kept at it steadily and as time passed he focused his time on just the compressions. She wasn't going to die. That was his only thought as he tried to save her life. She wasn't going to die. He refused to let her die.

He had no idea what time it was when the ambulance pulled up. He moved aside to let them check on her, his arms aching. That alone told him it had indeed been a very long time since he had first started CPR. The sky was darkening already –a frown creased his brows as the paramedics looked over at him and they shook their heads.

"What?" he barked. "Y-you can't give up on her!"

"It's too late son. She's gone."

She was gone long before Dean had even started to try and save her. He stormed over to the Impala, punching her. How could he have failed Andrea? When she needed someone the most. When she needed him the most. He was a failure. He couldn't save his dad, couldn't save Sam, and couldn't even save himself. And now he couldn't even save Andrea. He opened the door agonizingly slow and sat down, head resting against the steering wheel. Useless.

Dean jerked, just managing to stop himself from hitting the floor knees first. He clenched his fists and shrugged his shoulders, physically pushing the nightmare that had been tormenting for weeks aside. He was going to save Andrea. She was not going to die.

XXI

Sam paced anxiously, trapped with Marissa. He knew that Dean and Andrea had done it intentionally but he was furious with Dean. Just because he had saved Andrea the idiot had to go off and sleep with her. And Sam knew –he just knew that she was going to kill Dean. He glanced back at Marissa as she made coffee for both of them. He didn't trust Andrea. And he most certainly didn't trust her alone with Dean. He knew that she had done fine earlier but she had just been tortured by that pagan god and he could've done a number on her brain. But Dean just wouldn't listen.

He didn't have a way to get to the motel either since Dean had left with the Impala. And Marissa didn't own a car. He was a little cautious about it too, in case he interrupted them. He was going to wait a while before rushing over. But rush over he would, he knew that much. He glanced at Marissa again, watching her body language. She could see what was going on with them and she would know the instant Andrea decided to murder Dean. She was relaxed though and apparently comfortable as she made coffee for them.

He was just about to turn away when she stiffened suddenly and the mug fell from her hands. He didn't wait for her to explain. He didn't even bother to ask. He called the cab and within seconds it had arrived and they were speeding off to the motel. It wasn't that far from Marissa's and he arrived shortly.

He rushed to the room, digging his key out. But as it turned out he didn't even have to do that much. The door was wide open and so was the window. He wondered which escape route Andrea had used as he cautiously entered the room. If she had even gone.

Dean was lying on the bed wearing only his jeans. He wondered if Andrea had just killed him or if she had seduced him too. Bitter tears filled his eyes and he clenched his hands, avoiding looking at his big brother. Blood dripped onto the floor slowly, irritating Sam each time.

Once wasn't enough? He hadn't done enough? Dean had to die again and again and again. It was enough to drive him mad. He jerked the blankets over Dean's form. He should have known better than to trust Andrea. He should have just killed her the second Ruby said anything.

He would never forgive her. And he would never stop hunting her.

Sam stiffly rolled his shoulders as he looked around the cave. There was no way he was going to let Andrea alone with Dean. He knew that she would kill him. He couldn't trust her. He wasn't even sure if he could trust Marissa, but he was relatively sure he could. He wouldn't let Dean die again. He wouldn't. Not ever.