A/N: Hi, everyone! Sorry I haven't posted new chapters but I've been having trouble with my internet but now its back! Yay! LOL anyway, so the next few chapters dive a little deeper into True's psyche and past. Soooooooooooo here we go!

Chapter Twenty-Five

The longer I sat in the backseat of the Impala, the more the world seemed to weigh on me. I told myself over and over that I didn't care, this had been nothing. I had moved past this a long time ago, but the thoughts played again and again in my head. I couldn't escape them, no wall would block them, and no box would hold them. Memories I had suppressed fluttered like moths to a flame, burning as they crossed my mind.

In the heat of the moment, when I was facing Werzelya, I had something to focus on. I had to save Claire, I had to stay alive. That was it. But now I had nothing. Every time I closed my eyes flashes of my past caused a cold knot of steel to twist itself in my chest. I tried to focus on Claire, making sure she was ok. Listening to the classic rock on the radio or Sam and Dean talking, but nothing held my attention.

On the way out of town we had stopped by the same gas station we had so long ago, the day we had been attacked by demon's at Claire's old apartment. Leaning against the Impala, looking at the building it felt like it had been a lifetime ago. It was a dream, a memory that belonged to someone else, and I was just a witness.

With the tank full of gas, we piled back into the Impala. It seemed smaller somehow with four people crammed into it. Sam getting into the back seat to examined Claire, with me in the front seat. I turned to face them as he tucked stray hair away from her face to examine the cut, dabbing at it with a alcohol wipe. I had been right, it wasn't deep. All of her injuries were superficial; she didn't need a hospital, just rest.

Dean mentioned something about getting a motel a few towns away, to be safe. I didn't have the energy to argue. I didn't argue about the fast food restaurant we swung by or demanded that Dean make an extra pit stop because Claire hadn't needed to go pee at the last one. I didn't speak up to take Sam's side when he tried to convince Dean that stopping to get the rear window fixed on the Impala was not a priority. In fact, I hardly talked at all.

Dean and Sam were silent, perhaps content to let me cope in peace, and taking turns driving so that the other could get some shut eye. I wondered how far we were supposed to be going, but didn't ask. Claire was fast asleep, and I was supposed to be, but I had too much on my mind to even try. I had offered my services to Dean, informing him that I was an excellent driver and would be more than happy to drive so he and Sam could both rest, but was quickly educated to the fact that no one drives his baby but him and occasionally Sam.

I resigned to my fate to just sit there in silence, but I could feel the brother's eyes on me. I wanted to tell them I was fine, that I could move on with my life, but I couldn't bring myself to say anything. The things inside my head were not things I was ready to talk about, not until I could shove them back down. I thought about the figure standing over my aunts vacant body, how I hadn't been able to tell them.

I clenched and unclenched my jaw, thinking about that figure. There was nothing about the past that I could do, but the figure was something I could fight. I tried to think of all the times that I had felt like someone was watching me. Like the night after Gordon had kidnapped me and I had woken from a nightmare to a shadow in my hotel room. I'd thought it had just been a dream, but maybe it was my friendly neighborhood stalker. All the times I had felt like I was being watched and had assumed it was Werzelya or someone working for her. Something was working behind the curtain.

I was making myself paranoid dwelling on it and it was exhausting. Every time some stranger even glanced in my direction at a rest stops I had to resist storming up to them and demanding what the hell they were staring at. Every Breath You Take by the Police had become my theme song and there was no escaping the feeling that even though I didn't feel like I was being watched, I was sure someone had to be watching me.

Claire on the other hand, after she woke from a four hour nap, seemed surprisingly at ease. Considering the fact she was at an unknown location with two men she barely knew, I figured she'd be sticking close to my side. Instead she was sticking close by Sam's, dragging him along to the bathroom or inside a restaurant when they forgot her ketchup. All the while he would throw me a pleading look to intervene and, despite my current state of mind, I had to admit it was funny.

I turned my attention to my cell phone, burning up the minutes by Googling witchcraft and spells to prevent speech. Nothing I found was conclusive, mostly new age, what I needed was ancient magic. I got so wrapped up in what I was reading I didn't noticed that we had reached the motel in the evening hours of the day. Claire had to snap her fingers in front of my face to get my attention. The Winchesters got out of the car first, walking around to the trunk to get the bags. I reached for the door to follow after.

"True, wait a minute," Claire said, resting her hand on my arm.

"What's up, hero?" I asked, forging a smile.

"I'm not a hero," Claire said modestly.

"Shut up, because you are," I teased, "You saved the Van Helsing bloodline. So, thank you."

"You're welcome," Claire said, smiling more to herself then me, "It was nothing, and you've saved me plenty of times."

"So that was what, payback?" I joked, trying a little too hard to pretend I was okay, "If I hadn't saved you, you wouldn't have saved me?"

"You know what I mean," Claire said, shaking her head.

"Ok," I reached for the door again.

"They got adjoining rooms, but our room only has one bed," Claire rushed out, causing me to turn back around to look at her, "We're in room nineteen."

"They already got the rooms?" I asked, trying to remember when either of them had gotten out of the car.

Claire was quite a long moment, pressing her lips into a thin line before saying, "Are you alright? I mean, really?"

"I'm trying to be," I admitted with another forced smile, "Just need some rest, time to process. I've been awake for over twenty-four hours."

"I've seen you run on nearly seventy-two hours without sleep, True," Claire said, her voice taking on a seriously worried tone, "This isn't like that. You're practically a drunk when you're tired, but this- this is how you get when you're on a mission."

"You've been with me the whole time," I reminded her as deep ache settled in my chest, reminding me what I had managed to put aside. She knew me to well and could see right past my smile, but I wasn't ready to tell her, "I haven't looked for another job. What mission could I possibly be on?"

"You've been on the phone a long time," Claire said solemnly, "But something is the matter and I don't know why you feel you have to hide it from me, but I promise that whatever it is, I can help. Maybe not in the hunter way, but I can carry some of the burden so you don't have to."

I pulled her into my arms, hugging her tightly. The sound of the trunk vibrated around us, causing the car to shake slightly. I ignored the shadows of the boys as they walked around the car, heading to a hotel room, "I'll tell you when I'm ready."

Claire pulled away from me, "I know you just want to protect me, but I don't need protecting!"

"That's not what this is about," I said, taken aback by her sudden flare of anger.

"You're always trying to take care of me," Claire continued as if I hadn't spoken, her voice rising with every word, "I don't need you to!"

I don't know where this was all coming from or how she had gotten that I was trying to hide something from her to protect her, but I was too drained to try and figure it out. Her annoyance made me annoyed, my usual calm demeanor slipping away like sand through my fingers. I slid back across the seat so I could look her up and down, waiving my hand to indicate the shape she was in.

"Last night says otherwise," I told her, "You didn't think. You could have gotten us both killed."

"Yeah, well, you didn't have to save me!" Claire yelled.

"And what were my other options?" I demanded, "Just let you die?"

"I don't know!" Claire yelled, tears brimming her eyes, "Maybe if you trained me, I wouldn't be so stupid!"

"Oh, like that's a good idea," I snapped. I couldn't allow her to get any stupid ideas into her head. Yes, she knew about the supernatural world, but she wasn't a part of it. She didn't understand how the underworld worked, and the dangers that lurked in every shadow. "I've already told you I don't want this life for you."

"It's too late for that!" Claire wiped a furious tear from her cheek, "As long as you're in my life I'm a part of this."

"Then maybe I shouldn't be in your life!" I shouted. I regretted the words the second I said them. If it were possible I would have shoved them back into my mouth and chewed them up and spat them into the trash where they belonged, but I was to angry to stop now. All the frustration and pain had broken free, let lose upon the world, "Clearly it's too dangerous. I can't afford to keep running after you every time you get into trouble."

"I'm sorry that having to save me is such an inconvenience to you!" Claire yelled before throwing open the door and getting out, slamming it shut behind her.

"Damn it!" I screamed, slamming my fist uselessly against the car seat in front of me.

I turned my hands toward myself, pressing my palms into my eyes. I took long, slow breaths, feeling the anger. I didn't want to feel this, I hated it. This feeling, this pain, I had to get rid of it. I threw open the car door and stepped out.

Claire and the Winchesters had gone into the hotel room, leaving me alone in the falling light of the sun. The cold night air chilled my skin, and I breathed a sigh of relief. I did a quick stretch, loosening my muscles from sitting in the car for so long. When I was ready I pushed of, breaking out into a sprint as I rounded the motel. I wasn't going to go far, just around the block a few times.

I got lost in the run as I headed down the sidewalk, swerved between cars parked along the street before ducking down an alley to run past the back of the motel. It was quite out in the night, the world a sleep and only the bugs were still busy at work. My mind was quieted by the sound of my blood pounding in my ears, my muscles happily burning as they did their job.

Indigo loved to run.

I staggered to a stop, panting hard. A cold knot of steel twisted in my heart at the thought that came swinging at me from out of nowhere. I looked around as if I could see where it had come from, or to get rid of it. My eyes burned, seeking the release of tears, but none would come. The need to cry was overwhelming and I willed the dam to break, but still no tears. I turned in a circle, before turning and walking over to the wood fence that lined the alley across from the hotel.

I walked over, placing my hand against the hard wood to mark the spot. Pulling my hand back, I closed it into a fist and slammed it into the fence. Pain shot from my knuckles to halfway up my arm, and the steel knot loosened. I hit the fence again and again, alternating between my fists to beat away the pain.

I punched for the fight Claire and I had had, because Werzelya had taken everything from me. I punched for Echo who I had lost without losing, for Dean who I was about to lose. I slammed my fist harder and harder into the wood, thinking about what the Circle had done and what this world was. I didn't stop, even after the skin of my hands tore open and bled, staining the wood crimson.

"True, stop!" Sam called, the sound of his footsteps crunching on the dirt as he approached. I didn't.

Sam wrapped his arms around me, halting my assault on the fence. I struggled against his hold, breaking away from him. He managed to keep hold of my forearm and when I tried to run, he yanked me back toward him. I collided with his chest and he wrapped his arms around me, pinning me against him. The last of my desire to flight drained from my limbs and I sagged against him.

I clung to Sam, taking fists full of his jackets in my hands. His height and broad shoulders engulfed me, making me feel warm and safe. I wanted to cry again, my shoulders shaking with the need of it. The anger and pain was too much for me to stomach, the cold knot in my chest spreading. I buried my face into Sam's chest, letting the cold rage out of control until it had numbed me. Exhausted, my knees buckled. Sam held me up, running his hands over my hair.

"Come on," Sam said, loosening his hold enough to turn me toward the mouth of the alleyway.

Sam kept one of his arms draped over my shoulders, the other clutching the arm that was pinned against his side to keep me on my feet. He walked us around to the front of the motel, stopping by the driver's side door of the Impala. Sam loosened his hold a little more, leaning me against the car as if I would fall at in moment.

"Wait here," Sam instructed.

He took off back toward his room before I had time to respond, disappearing inside. I did as I was told, starring down at my bruised and bleeding knuckles. I heard a door close and glanced up to see Sam coming back out, car keys and first aid kit in hand. Sam unlocked the driver's door, ushering me to sit down.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Sam asked, kneeling in front of me and setting down the first aid kit on the black top. He popped the box open, digging around in the contents.

"There's nothing to talk about," I said softly, "My aunt died twenty years ago. I mourned her, I moved on."

"True," Sam said gently. I couldn't tell if he was saying my name or stating what I said as the truth. He opened an alcohol wipe, tossing the wrapper back into the box. He took my hand in his, dabbing at the wound. I flinched at the pain as the disinfectant got to work, but didn't pull my hand away. After a moment Sam continued, "I meant about Indigo."

I froze, looking up at Sam through my lashes. I was caught somewhere between shock and horror, though I shouldn't have been surprised that Sam was the one who deduced the real problem here. I shook my head, "There's nothing to talk about."

"I think there is," Sam said, exchanging the used alcohol wipe for a new one and starting on my other hand.

"Of course you do," I muttered, "Let me rephrase, I don't want to talk about it."

"I get that," Sam sighed, moving on to the antibiotic cream, "If my brother had died when he was fourteen, I wouldn't want to talk about it either."

"I never did," I whispered, more to myself then to him, "Not to Echo, or anyone. Not even Claire."

The numbness faltered. I quickly dug around inside my head, finding my emotional box. I opened it, shoving in the pain and anger before it could take over. Once it was inside, I slammed the door shut and buried it deeper. The box rattled, the memories still to fresh to ignore.

"They told me it was a mistake," I whispered, closing my eyes and picturing Indy in my mind. The way his dark brown hair always fell in his eyes, his freckled nose, and the smile that always touched his brown eyes. I gritted my teeth at the memory, "He was never supposed to be there, he was never supposed to die."

I paused as the memories continued to wash over me like a sickness. Reading to him before bed, chasing after him while playing hide-and-seek in the forest behind our house, teaching him how to do a running back flip off a wall. Being the second youngest at the time meant I was the one who looked after the kid while everyone else was off on hunts. For so long it had just been him and me. He was my responsibility, and I hadn't been there to save him.

My stomach turned and pain throbbed in my chest. I watched Sam bandage my hands, trying to find the strength to continue. Sam didn't rush me, keeping his focus on my hands. I waited until he was done before continuing, shoving the box deeper as Sam sat back on his heels to focus his hazel eyes on me.

"I believed them," I said, my voice shaking and my anger building, my voice rising, "He was a kid who wanted to prove he was a man, why wouldn't he do something stupid? She did horrible things to him, tortured him. I saw his body…"

I closed my hands into fist, the skin stretching across my knuckles burned. I had to take several deep breaths to try and calm down, but it was no use. Sam placed a supporting hand on my knee, and I focused on his relaxed composer. I lost track of the time as it passed before I was able to continue.

"It was a lie," I said through gritted teeth, "The Circle had sent him as bait, to lore Werzelya out. They acted like they were sorry he was dead, but they didn't care. They only cared that they didn't get their demon. I'd tried to tell Echo, but she didn't believe me. We got into this huge fight about it, told me I was being foolish. Childish! How could the Circle do something so heartless? I couldn't stay. I couldn't pretend that everything was okay. If I stayed, I would have killed them. All of them. I hate them! I always have!"

Sam shot up onto his knees, pulling me into another hug. He rubbed his hand up and down my back, trying to sooth the rage I had let lose. I'd spent years trying to keep it at bay. There was nothing I could do about it now; I just needed to move on. I had been kidding myself. The anger was still there, towards both Echo and the Circle. I wanted to hurt them, to make them feel the loss that I had.

I had been in denial that killing Werzelya had meant nothing to me, that revenge wouldn't make anything better. It didn't fill the emptiness inside of me, or bring my family back, but she was dead. I'd stood over her lifeless body and had survived when so many had failed. It felt good to know that she was gone. Now if I could only make the Circle pay for what they had done.

The thought felt foreign in my head, like it wasn't really my thought. I could feel eyes on me again, and they weren't Sam's. I pushed Sam away and stood, forcing Sam to do the same. He stepped out of my way as I moved past him and looked around us. There was no one, nothing. I pressed my hands against my temples, a headache forming behind my eyes.

"True-" Sam reached out and placed a hand on my shoulder.

"I just want to go to bed, Sam," I said, stepping out of his reach.

Sam didn't try to stop me as I walked back to my room, opening the door to find Claire fast asleep on the bed. I crawled into the other bed, lying on my back and staring at the ceiling, trying not to think. I felt Claire stiffen, awoken by my presence. I wrapped myself around her, resting my head on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"I know," Claire said softly, "Me too."

"I don't think you're stupid," I said, then scoffed. I was a fool to think that I could keep the business separated from the family, just another mental mistake to add to the pile. She was right, she wasn't safe. "I'll teach you how to fend off evil, if you promise not to hunt it."

"I promise not to hunt evil, if you promise not to keep secrets from me," Claire whispered, bring the conversation full circle.

"I'm not trying to keep secrets from you," I said, "I just need time."

Claire fell silent and I rolled away from her, turning my back to her. I laid in the silence of the room, still wide awake despite how badly my body wanted to sleep. My mind was far too busy to stop long enough for peace. I tossed and turned as the hours passed and pale yellow light poured into the little room, finally I started to drift. I was awakened by the sound of Claire leaving the room, but I couldn't bring myself to lift my head. I closed my eyes, drifting back into bliss.