thanks for reading and for all the awesome reviews!! bambers;)
Chapter Thirty-Six
A shiver of apprehension washed over Dean as he exited the hospital, and he hastily looked around the emergency parking lot, searching for Dominic. Even though he couldn't see anyone, Dean still had a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that the cult leader was around somewhere watching him. His knees nearly buckled as adark blue Cadillacwith smoky tinted windows slowed considerably as it passed by the emergency entrance, and he quickly ducked back inside the safety of the hospital's alcove.
Now Dean finally understood what Shannon had told himlong ago. Dominic had somehow managed to take everything from him, and what was worse was that Dean had allowed it to happen.
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"You know, I love that little smile of yours." Shannon smiled as she lightly trailed her fingertips down the corners of Dean's lips. "You know the one that let's me know just what your thinking without you having to say a word." "So what am I thinking right now then?" Dean quirked a brow as he laced his fingers through hers.
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"I didn't protect anyone," Dean muttered to himself as he edged himself over to a row of benches and took a seat. "I let Shannon die . . . Raine died . . . Sam could've died . . . an' what did I do?" He let out a wry laugh as he brusquely raked his hand through the stubbled hair on his head. "I believed him. I believed every freakin' thing he said." His voice rose as the anger and self-hatred swelled inside of him. "How could've I let him make me think Sam would ever leave me?" His head dropped back onto his shoulders as he tried to explain away his own betrayal of his brother, but no easy answer came to him. "Am I really that freakin' pathetic?"
"Dean?"came Deacon's voicefrom off to the side of Dean, and as he glanced up at the older man, Deacon nudged his head toward the bench Dean was sitting on. "Mind if I take a seat?"
"Yeah, whatever," Dean muttered as he motioned for Deacon to take a seat.
"Where's John and Bobby," Deacon asked as he casually took a look around, and Dean noticed how the older man also eyed the parking lot, searching for any signs of Dominic. "An' how come your out here alone?"
"Needed some time to think, an' I jus' couldn't do that with my Dad breathin' down my neck."
"Look, I know how hard this must be for you, so if you wanna talk about it, I've been told I'm a pretty good listener," Deacon said, unobtrusivelyand without a hint on commendation. "You don't have to if you don't want to, I just thought you might want to."
For a moment, Dean thought to say no, but knew if he didn't let go of some of the pain welling inside of himself, he would drown within it. "I met this girl back when Sam was going to Stanford," he began to recounted, a small smile flitting across his features as he recalled how beautiful Shannon was, "she had dark wavy black hair, an' the most incredible blue eyes I've ever seen . . . I don't know how to describe them except to say it was like looking into the ocean, they were so deep an' fathomless in their perfection."
"She sounds beautiful," Deacon supplied when Dean fell silent.
"She really was . . . ." Dean drew in a deep breath as he prepared himself to tell Deacon what he had done. "I promised I would protect her from her father . . . an' then he killed her . . . stabbed her to death with my knife."
"Dominic." The older man gave a subtle nod of understanding which gave Dean the encouragement to continue onward.
"I didn't go to the police, Deacon," with head lowered in shame, he glanced up at Deacon through lowered lashes, "I burned everything that belonged to her," he swallowed hard, finding it exceedingly hard to say what he had done next, "cleaned up Pastor Jim's cabin, erasing any sign that she'd ever been there, an' then . . . then I burned her body."
"Does anyone else know about this?" Deacon asked after a very long pause.
"Never told anyone until you." Dean looked around the parking lot again, the feeling that someone was watching him still gnawing away at his insides. "I swear I didn't want to do it, but no one would've ever believed that I came back from a hunt an' found her dead. You have to believe me . . . I'm not proud of what I've done, but I did it for Sammy . . . had to stick under the radar like my Dad always told me to do."
"So Dominic must've seen you burning her body that day, an' came after you for it," the older man surmised.
"Yeah . . . ." Dean lowered his head again, his shoulders slumping as the weight of what he had done to Shannon crushed down upon him. "It . . . it jus' hurt so damn much . . . you'll never know how damn much . . . an' I wasn't thinkin', an' I wasn't watchin' . . . an' he must've been there and saw me burn her body."
"I'm not saying that what you did was right, Dean," Deacon finally said after another long pause, "but I do understand your reasoning."
"I promised I'd protect her, Deacon . . . promised to protect Sammy." Dean drew in a shaky breath as he brushed the back of his hand across his cheek, wiping away a stray tear. "An' I failed to protect them both."
"Dean," Deacon laid a hand on Dean's shoulder, "I know how your father raised you . . . believe me I know, but no matter what he says, it really isn't your job to protect everyone . . . an' sometimes I think it's you that needs to be protected." Deacon searched out Dean's eyes with his own, but shamefully Dean couldn't meet his gaze. "But, truthfully, I think that anyone who has ever known you would say that they were better for having you come into their lives."
"That's not true," Dean sadly shook his lowered head, "if I hadn't been around, Jessica would still be alive, an' Sam wouldn't be in the hospital right now. An' then there's Shannon an' Raine, they're both dead cause of me."
"Dean, you're playin' a what if game, an' I can tell you right now, you'll always stack the odds against your favor. But, I can also tell you this, there would definitely be a lot more dead people fillin' up the cemeteries if you weren't around. An' honestly, I sleep better at night knowing that you are out there making sure this damn world is a better place to live in."
"You know," Dean hesitated, almost fearful to admit what had finally broken him, "I jus' wanted a home so damn bad . . . never had a real home . . . an' someone who would be proud of me no matter how many times I screwed up."
"I can understand that, Dean." Deacon cast a sad smile in Dean's direction and then looked toward the hospital entrance. "You an' Sam never got to have a normal life, an' sometimes it has to feel like you were cheated out on what everyone else takes for granted. But truthfully, even livin' out of motel rooms or wherever it is you rested your heads at night, you've had more of a home than most people I know. Cause it's really not where you live that matters so much as it is those who are there with you. Sam is your home, Dean, he's where your heart has always been," he shrugged as he nudged his head back toward the hospital, "but you really don't need me to tell you that cause deep inside, you already know it's true. So now you can either sit outside here playing the what if game all night long or get back inside, an' be where you really want to be. An' somethin' tells me, you're really ready to go home."
For what must have been the first time since Deacon sat down, Dean glanced up at him and smiled. "Thanks, Deacon,"he said as he slowly rose to his feet, ready to once again face his brother.
"Anytime, Dean."
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As Dean headed back inside the hospital with Deacon following close behind, a man in a dark green Camaro, yanked out his cell phone and placed a call.
"Father, it's Markus. He's at the hospital right now with John an' the others."
"Good," came Dominic's calm voice from the other end of the line, "I want the rest of them dead. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Father, not a problem."
"An' I want you to leave Dominic for me . . . I want my son to know that I came back for him. Is that clear?"
"Yes. I understand." With that, Markus snapped his cell phone shut, and slid out of the car.