Chapter Thirty-Six
Julie woke up in the guest bedroom. She had moved all of her stuff out of her and Dean's old bedroom and into here last night, unable to be in that room without him. But she didn't remember coming in here last night. The last thing she remembered was her and Sam hugging and crying and grieving and drinking together in silence. She forgot what had happened after her seventh or so drink. She must have passed out, and Sam must have carried her in here, despite having drunk even more than her last night.
Sure enough, when Julie tried to sit up, a stabbing pain in her head put her back on the bed, groaning. She had rarely had a headache this bad, and it was making her nauseous. Julie barely hauled herself into the bathroom and to the toilet before she began puking up the few things she had actually eaten yesterday. When she was done puking, she rested her forehead against the cold seat of the toilet, trying to recover.
There were very few times Julie had been more hung over than this in her life. But the stabbing pain in her head and the crappy, sick way she felt could not possibly compare with the pain she felt at waking up alone. He should have been in bed next to her to catch her when she fell back and to hold her hair back while she puked. He should be rubbing her back in soothing circles and making some jokes about all the times he'd been hung over, and Julie would think how much of an idiot he was, and how much she loved him.
She felt the tears coming and thought angrily, No! You cried enough yesterday. Today you're going to actually act like the tough hunter you are. You're going to quit crying about losing Dean and do something to get him back.
But there was nothing she could do to get him back, and she knew it. Cas was powerless, and Sam and Julie were just as helpless. Dean was gone, and they had no way to revive him, or even a place to start looking.
Julie knew she should get up and do something, maybe check on Sam, for surely he wouldn't be faring well, either. But Julie could not find the will to get up. Dean was dead. What did it matter if she never left this bathroom, if that wonderful, stupid, brave, selfless, headstrong, funny, charming man was dead?
"Dean," Julie whispered, even though it hurt her throat to speak. Maybe Cas couldn't find his soul because he was hanging around as a ghost. Maybe he could hear her now. "Dean, if you can hear me…come back. Please. I can't do this without you. I can't!"
But there was no answer. Either Dean couldn't come back to her, or he just didn't care. For once, Julie actually hoped that Dean wasn't coming back because he was really gone. Because the alternative, that he could be here with her but was choosing not to be…that was almost more painful than losing him.
Dean pulled the collar of his grey t-shirt down to study the tattoo on his skin. There was a thin line running through it, breaking the anti-possession symbol. "I guess Metatron did me more than favors than he realized," Dean commented. "If he hadn't broken that symbol while he was cutting me up, I would have had to possess some other body, and I have to admit, I'm kind of attached to this one."
Crowley rolled his eyes as the man continued to check himself out in the rear view mirror of the cheap car Crowley had stolen. The two of them were driving down the highway with the windows rolled down, and the wind was blowing through Dean's hair, making him look like even more of a male model than usual.
The old Dean had never really embraced his good looks. That hunter had known he was attractive, and it had made him confident enough to talk to women and get in their pants, but he had never really been able to accept the idea that he was really handsome, having such a low opinion of himself. But now that those old feelings were out of the way, Dean was finally seeing the hot guy dozens of other women had drooled over, and he was getting a bit cocky.
"Alright, pretty boy, you can quit preening yourself," Crowley grumbled.
"What's the matter, Crowley? Are you mad I'm not checking you out? You're not looking so bad yourself, pal."
The demon smirked despite himself. "You think I don't know that? And if you ever call me pal again, I just might kill you."
Dean grinned cockily and put his feet up on the dashboard as he spoke. "How are you going to manage that?" the Knight of Hell smirked. "The only thing that can kill a Knight of Hell is me, and I don't really feel like dying again before I've even been alive a whole day."
Crowley knew Dean had him beat there. "Why are we even driving, anyway?" the new demon asked. "If we can just teleport wherever the hell we want…"
"It takes a while to get that power under control," Crowley explained. "And since you're practically a newborn, I thought we wouldn't try to tackle that skill just yet."
"I'll never learn until I try," Dean pointed out. He tried to harness the new, raw power inside of him and make himself appear somewhere else, but instead just succeeded in making his eyes flash black again. "Oh well. Later I guess." Dean began to switch his eyes back and forth between black and green, watching them change in the mirror. "This is actually really fun! Why don't you guys do this more often?"
"We find if we save it for dramatic moments, it makes us look that much more intimidating," the former king of hell said drily.
"Come on, Crowley. You know this is badass," Dean smirked, and he turned towards the other demon and made his eyes flash back and forth between black and green until Crowley felt almost sick.
"Well, you've got that skill mastered," he muttered. "To think a couple days ago, your worst fear was to have black eyes, and now you're messing around with it."
"Yeah, this would scare the shit out of Sam and Julie," Dean chuckled. Crowley tried not to stiffen. That was the first time the young demon had even spoken their names in the almost twenty-four hours he'd been a demon. Crowley waited for emotion to overwhelm the demon at the thought of the people he'd loved and left, but Dean just reached out and turned on the radio. He found a song by AC/DC, "Back in Black" and sang the words loudly, trying to annoy Crowley.
Instead, the demon found himself surprised. He had expected at least some kind of reaction after that casual mention of Dean's brother and girlfriend, but had gotten nothing.
Dean just didn't care anymore. Crowley knew that would happen, and he should have expected it, but it was still mind-blowing to see how drastically the Mark and Blade had changed him. Beelzebub had known that once Dean killed Cain, the dark in him would outweigh the good. He also knew that Dean would be able to feel that and probably want to die, thinking that would save him from going down the path to becoming a demon. But once there was more evil that good in Dean, if he died while bearing the Mark, it would bring him back a demon like it had Cain.
Crowley had known that this was what would happen. Hell, he had been planning for this for months, years, actually. But it was still shocking to see how much Dean had already changed, and he hadn't even embraced his full demonic potential yet.
For a second, Crowley was a little scared of what the newborn demon next to him belting, "I'm back in black!" could become…
Jasper sighed as he finally pulled into the driveway. It was past midnight, and he'd been driving for over six hours to get home. James had nodded off in the seat next to him, and Taylor was still technically conscious, but staring catatonic out the window. The three of them were wiped out from taking down a small pack of werewolves a few hours north of here, their fourth hunt in two weeks. Even in his prime, Jasper had never been busier than he was now. Every hunter was working full-time, trying to stop the sudden uprising within the community of all things evil. Things were really coming to a high point with all of this Knight of Hell crap, and Jasper worried what that could mean for his niece and the two men she lived with.
Jasper tried not to worry about Julie too much. After all, he had a daughter who was finally getting into hunting, now that she had no other choice, and a hunter he had taken under his wing to worry about. The two were smartass's, troublemakers, and just general pains to be around most of the time. But Jasper had to admit, he would have died dozens of times already without these exhausting young hunters watching his back.
As Jasper pulled up next to the house, Taylor snapped out of her daze and kicked the back of James's seat. The man shot straight up, ready for a fight.
"Calm down, you idiot, we're just home," Taylor muttered, brushing her long blond curls out of her face.
James opened his mouth to snap at her, but Jasper suddenly snapped, "Quiet!" James and Taylor were both confused, until they noticed the familiar black car sitting in the driveway.
The three hunters quickly scrambled out of their truck. No one was in the Impala, but when Jasper rushed to the front door, two people sat on the doorstep, waiting in silence. He stared in surprise as Sam Winchester and his beloved niece both got to their feet. They had been sitting huddled together on the porch step in silence, but as the three hunters approached, Sam and Julie stood up.
Jasper studied them, concerned. Both were oddly quiet and subdued. Even Julie could not raise her eyes to meet Jasper's, and her usual warm smile was nowhere to be seen. Something was wrong, that was clear, but neither hunter spoke a word.
"Julie?" James asked, shocked, as he reached the porch and was able to make out the two figures in the dark.
"What are you doing here, Juliet?" Jasper asked kindly. "Not that I'm not glad to see you, you know I am, but…"
"Sorry," Julie said in a soft, hoarse voice. "We should have called."
"It's fine," Jasper assured her. "I'm glad you're here. I've been worried about you three." He frowned as he noticed that a certain tall, tough, green-eyed hunter was missing from the group.
"Where's your boyfriend?" James asked coldly, also realizing that Dean Winchester was missing. He was not looking forward to seeing that stuck-up bastard again, but he doubted that Julie and Dean would have broken up again.
Julie looked down and bit her lip. Jasper couldn't read her expression, but there was clearly something very wrong. Sam waited to see if Julie would speak, and when she didn't he took a deep breath and said in as level a voice as he could manage, "Dead."
Instantly, James felt like the biggest asshole on the planet. "Oh my god," Taylor gasped. "Are you…?"
"God, I'm so…" James stopped himself, knowing any apology from him would sound cruel and insincere to the two people closest to the dead man.
"What?" Jasper asked slowly, still reeling. "How?"
Sam glanced down at Julie again, but she clearly wasn't able to talk about it just yet. So he said through gritted teeth, "Metatron. The angel killed him…tortured him to death…right before I killed the bastard."
Jasper, James, and Taylor all looked at the poor, grieving hunters sympathetically. Jasper himself was grieving, and Taylor as well. She and Dean had not always gotten along the best, but she had always liked him, even before her cousin fell in love with him. And as for Jasper…he had cared about Dean. A lot. Jasper had been thinking of Dean as family for months now, and even with the whole issue of the Mark of Cain and the Knights of Hell, Jasper wouldn't have been surprised if Julie called him and said that Dean officially was part of the family. The two were so in love, and they'd been living and hunting together for coming up on two years…
But now that was never going to happen. And it made even a tough hunter like Jasper want to cry.
"This is all my fault," Sam grumbled, glaring at his feet.
"Oh, come on," Julie sighed, and it sounded like they'd had this argument several times already.
"If I had been there just a few seconds sooner he could still be here!" Sam cried angrily.
"You can't blame yourself for this," Julie insisted, touching Sam's arm in a comforting gesture.
Taylor studied the two of them. She had always secretly thought that something might be going on between Sam and Julie, or at least something could happen between them. She remembered working a shifter case with the three hunters several months ago, back before Julie died and came back, and she had figured out that Sam was definitely into Julie. It was evident in the pathetic, kicked-puppy looks he gave her when her back was turned, and in the way he hung onto every word she said and every move she made. Dean was the same. It was really unfair, actually, the fact that Julie had two hot brothers both in love with her, while Taylor was alone. But what else was new?
Then, when Julie and Dean had broken up and Julie had returned home, she had eventually told Taylor about all the things that had gone wrong. She had tried to gloss over it, but Taylor definitely caught the mention of Sam's feelings for her cousin. However, once Julie was back from the dead, it was clear that Julie and Dean would never be separated again, and Sam no longer seemed so pathetically crazy for her.
But Taylor couldn't help but wonder what would happen now that Dean was gone. Obviously Julie was still in love with the man, but as time passed…who knew? Taylor had kept it to herself, but she had always thought Sam and Julie seemed perfect for each other. But there were much bigger issues at hand, like the death of her friend and Julie's boyfriend and Sam's brother.
"Can't you just bring him back like you did Julie?" James pointed out.
"Cas has tried that," Julie said after a moment. "He's gone. Can't find his soul anywhere, in heaven or hell. We don't know exactly what that means, but…it means we can't get him back."
She looked near tears, and Jasper stepped forward and wrapped her in his arms. "I'm so sorry, honey," he whispered. "Juliet, we'll find a way to fix this. I promise."
Julie wanted to believe her uncle as she and the four other hunters went inside to stay the night. She wanted to believe that someday she would be able to see Dean again and hold him in her arms and kiss him and tell him she loved him.
But deep inside, she knew…Dean was gone. And he was probably never coming back.
Kathy Deluce looked up as a couple more guys entered the bar. They were already pretty full for a Monday night, but she wasn't going to complain. When you were an attractive young bartender like her, more men in the bar meant more tips. If she made enough money tonight, she wouldn't have to work double shifts tomorrow night, and she could actually go out and do something!
Maybe I'll do him, Kathy thought wryly, sizing up the taller of the two men. The guy practically oozed sex, tall and muscular, with the face of a male model, and the ripped jeans and dark jacket and dangerous look of a bad boy. His light brown hair was spiked up in a sexy sort of way, and there was a cocky look in his green eyes that she found really freaking hot. As he sauntered over to take a seat at the bar, the man met her eyes and gave her a flirtatious smirk and a nod.
She smiled back flirtatiously and looked down, returning to wiping out beer mugs. Don't be stupid, Kathy, she told herself. The last thing you need is to sleep with another asshole who is just going to be gone in the morning.
Crowley watched the way the pretty, busty, redhead bartender was staring at Dean, unashamed. The demon noticed after a few seconds and used his natural flirtatious smirk on her, causing the girl to smile back and look down, blushing as red as her hair. It really wasn't fair, how some men were blessed with looks like Dean's. With the natural charm the guy had, he didn't even need it! But some guys just got everything…
"Not bad," Dean muttered as the bartender turned around and they got a good look at her ass, made even more prominent by her tight, short skirt.
Crowley rolled his eyes. "Really, Dean? You just became a demon. Don't you have better things to be focusing on than her?"
Dean shrugged. "I don't know. Most demons I ran into all seemed to be after one thing, and she is definitely what I want to be after tonight."
"Isn't she a little young for you?" Crowley pointed out. "She can't be older than twenty-five."
"I spent almost two years sleeping with a girl eight years younger than me," Dean pointed out in that same offhand tone he had used before, when referring to Sam and Julie. Crowley waited for some sort of reaction, but the new Knight of Hell just casually waved the hot bartender over.
She tossed her straight, shoulder-length, bright red hair over one shoulder as she reached them and smiled, eyes only on Dean. "What can I get you gentlemen?"
"Why don't you surprise me?" Dean smirked, giving her the same eyes that had gotten him into dozens of women's pants. This was fun! He hadn't been allowed to have fun like this in well over a year. "And for my friend here, the girliest martini you've got."
Crowley shot Dean a death glare as the pretty girl laughed. "Why don't I get you boys some beers to start off with?"
"Sounds great," Dean said. "Thanks…" He paused, clearly waiting for a name.
"Kathy," she supplied with a flirty smile.
"Dean," he replied. She smiled almost as cockily as he was smiling, and then went to get their beers.
Dean looked over and saw Crowley shaking his head in disbelief. "What?" the Knight of Hell shrugged.
"I just didn't expect to see you moving on so quickly," Crowley said slowly. Dean didn't say anything, so Crowley added, "And she's out of your league. You'll have to get pretty damn lucky to get a girl that hot. You're not twenty-six anymore."
Right as Crowley said this, Kathy returned and set down their beers. "You let me know if there's anything else I can do for you, Dean," she said, actually winking at him.
"Oh, I will, sweetheart," the demon replied, and she smirked and walked away. Dean turned back to Crowley and smirked. "I don't know, man. Call it a hunch, but I think I've still got it."
Kathy rubbed her eyes, exhausted. That had been one long night. She'd been at work until well after midnight, but she had been up for several hours after that. When she tried to roll over, she noticed she was bit sore. Dean Winchester had been a little rough for her taste, but he sure knew how to make a girl feel good.
Kathy knew she should feel bad. It had been a Monday night, and she had left work early to go screw this guy in her apartment, but she had gotten tired of just flirting. She wanted him, and he clearly wanted her. So screw it, why couldn't she have a good night every once in a while?!
She smiled a little to herself as she remembered all of last night. Dean and his friend who he called Crowley had been at the bar for almost three hours, somehow able to put away twice as much beer as any guy in there and still seem pretty much sober. And all night long, Dean had hit on Kathy, and she had flirted back. He looked to be in his mid-thirties, much older than the type of guys she typically went for, but he was so unfairly good-looking she was willing to make an exception.
Eventually, Dean had worn her down (it hadn't taken much), and she had taken him back to her apartment. His friend, Crowley, had seemed a bit annoyed, but Dean clearly wasn't going to listen to anything he had to say. So the two had gone back to her apartment, and Dean had gotten Kathy a little drunk before he finally just grabbed her and started kissing her. It was a bit rougher than she was used to, but she still enjoyed it. And when he dragged her over to the bed, she went with it. He was rough with her at times, but he did everything exactly right.
It had worn her out, though, and she had drifted off naked in bed with him. Now she rolled over to kiss the man and found…
Nothing. There was no one in bed with her. Kathy sat up, pulling the sheets up over her, and looked around. The bed was cold, and his clothes were gone from the floor. In fact, there was no sign that Dean Winchester had ever even been in this room other than the light bruises on her skin.
Kathy resisted the urge to scream at herself in frustration. What had she thought? That the guy from the bar that she had half-drunk sex with would actually be there in the morning? That he actually cared about her, and didn't just want a one-night stand? She was an idiot, and whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was a slut. She should have expected this.
But it still hurt. Seeing that yet another guy was gone in the morning and she was yet again alone…it hurt.
But Dean wasn't hurting one bit. In fact, he hadn't felt this good in a long time. The demon walked out to the stolen car where Crowley waited with his hands stuffed in his pockets, whistling cheerily. Crowley watched Dean approach, seeing how Dean stood taller and walked cockily, the after-sex glow not having worn off yet. In the Knight of Hell's mind, he was the greatest thing on earth in that moment.
"I suppose that went well?" Crowley sighed as Dean opened the car door and got into the passenger seat.
The demon smirked cockily. "Oh, yeah. I hadn't had a one night stand in years, Crowley! Remind me why the hell I gave that up?"
You gave that up to devote your life to a beautiful, brave, clever, tough woman who loved you enough to die and go to hell for you. A woman I took you away from.
Crowley pushed those thoughts away. There was no use in feeling bad for what he'd done to Sam and Julie. It was irreversible. Dean Winchester, or at least the old one, was gone. Hopefully, Sam and Julie would realize that and move on with their lives. They had each other; they would survive.
The demon in the seat next to him stretched his arms and sighed. "Alright, Crowley. Seeing how great that was, I say we go find another bar to hit up, find another desperate slut I can bang."
Crowley blinked, surprised. "Well, there is the issue of it being almost nine o'clock in the morning." And the fact that there's a woman out there right now, probably still sobbing over you, while you plan on going around banging every slut that comes your way.
Damn. Crowley really had been spending too much time with humans. Their morals and judgmental ways were rubbing off on him. If Dean wanted to sleep with lots of women, who was Crowley to judge or stop him? If Dean wanted to kill or steal or rape or torture, who was Crowley to stand in his way? This was Dean Winchester now, a demon, a Knight of Hell! It was just going to take a little getting used to, a Dean with no morals or self-hatred weighing him down.
"Fine," Dean sighed. "So, we don't go to a bar. I don't really care what we do. Just as long as it's fun." Dean frowned. "What do you demons do for fun anyway?"
"Well, what you just did," Crowley admitted. "Others torture or kill or make deals on souls. Really…it's your choice. You want to go kill a small village, or get someone to sell their soul, or just get wasted, it's all up to you."
Dean thought about it for a minute. Then he grinned. "You know what? I say Vegas. Gambling, drinking, lots of slutty women, plenty of people willing to sell their souls…demon heaven, right?"
Crowley smirked despite himself. "Sure, why not." He started to drive, but suddenly the keys flew out of the ignition and into Dean's hand. Crowley blinked as the Knight of Hell grinned cockily.
"Oh, by the way, I figured out how to do that," he smirked. "And one more thing: whether we're going to Vegas or hell, I don't give a damn—I'm driving."
Julie couldn't sleep.
Everyone else had drifted off a couple hours ago, even Sam. When she had gone downstairs to check on him a few minutes ago, Sam was passed out on the couch. She had almost smiled, seeing how much younger and more relaxed Sam looked in sleep, but she couldn't force her mouth to do anything but frown. James now slept in the guest room which had once been Dean's, but her old bedroom was still empty, so Jasper had set her up in there.
She hated being in here, though. Looking around, all she saw was him. There was the mirror that she had looked in every morning as she got ready to go downstairs and see Dean again. There was the closet, full of clothes that he'd seen her in, clothes he'd complimented, clothes he'd taken off of her. The bed they'd spent several nights in together. There was even a picture of the two of them together on the nightstand, and Julie couldn't look down at their smiling faces without tearing up.
How could he?! She kept thinking that over and over. How could he? How could Dean leave her like this? How could he do this to her, to Sam, to everyone who cared about him? How could he just be gone?!
Julie sat down on the bed and hugged her knees to her chest. If Dean were here, he would wrap his arms around her and kiss the top of her head and tell her everything would be okay. He would hold her and say soothing things until the tears dried. And just to hear his voice, to feel his touch…that would be enough. Everything would be okay, if he was just here now. Julie squeezed her eyes shut and wished with all her might that a miracle would happen and he would appear here with her.
It was a stupid, childish thing to do. She knew when she opened her eyes, there would be no Dean. But it still hurt when she opened her eyes and found herself alone again.
Julie thought about praying. She had prayed three times already, to any and all angels, begging them to help her. No one had come to her aid, not even Cas. God, poor Cas! That angel had loved Dean more than he loved anyone, and he must be grieving as much as Sam and Julie, but for some reason, he wouldn't let them try to help him or comfort him. He was just burying himself in his work, focusing on helping his fellow angels, so that he wouldn't have to think about how Dean was…
God, stop it! Why couldn't she stop crying? It was ridiculous! She was twenty-eight years old! She had known far more than her fair share of loss in her life, and she had endured ten years of hell, for god's sake! So why couldn't she stop weeping and crying over this one man like a child?!
Two years ago, Julie had felt insecure. She had never really truly felt like she had loved a man. She was twenty-six years old, and she had been in several relationships, but none of them had left her feeling like that man was the one. And, not for lack of trying, she couldn't seem to find a man she could love. She was beginning to wonder if there was something very wrong with her, and she just wasn't meant to be in love. She had wanted nothing more than to just find a good man she could love and settle down and have a life with. They could have a nice little house and nice, normal jobs. They could have a little boy and a little girl, and they could have their own little adventure, raising a family. No monsters, no demons, no Knights of Hell or Marks of Cain. She just wanted to be happy and in love.
And then he came along. And he made her happy like no one ever had. And she loved him like she had never loved anyone and would probably never love anyone ever again. Julie loved Dean.
What did it matter if he couldn't give her that other, normal life? What did it matter if he was a broken mess, and he would probably never be made whole again? What did it matter if being with him put her in danger? So what if he got her killed? So what if he broke her heart? At least he was able to get her heart in the first place!
It was awful. It was cruel and unfair and awful, but the more Julie thought about it, the more she realized he really was the one for her. He was the man she had waited twenty-seven years for, the love that would make her whole, her greatest adventure. And she hadn't even gotten two whole years with him before…
"Dammit, Dean!" she cried suddenly, surprising herself. "Don't do this," she sobbed. "Please, I…"
But she couldn't even get out the words "love you," through her tears. It didn't matter anyway. He couldn't hear her. It didn't matter that she loved him and needed him so damn much. He was gone. Her Dean was gone.
Eventually, Julie got her emotions under control. But when the sorrow passed, it left her so exhausted she was finally able to sleep. She passed out on the bed, not bothering to change into pajamas or even get under the covers. But she found no reprieve in sleep.
First, Julie dreamed that she was in a dark forest, and she was on a hunt, and a monster had taken Dean. She was running through the forest, chasing it, trying to find him before it was too late. She could hear Dean crying out in pain ahead of her, and she would scream his name, but no matter how fast she ran, she could never reach him, never get to him in time to save him.
Then the dream changed, and Julie was back in the home where she and Dean had once lived in Illinois. At first, she was relieved to be out of that dark forest. But when she stepped out of the house and into the street, her neighbors were gathered out in the lawn in dark clothes.
Her old best friend, Elaine, stepped forward and touched Julie's arm. "I'm so sorry, Julie," she said sadly.
"What? Julie asked, bewildered.
"Dean was a good man," Dean's friend from work, Greg, said firmly. "He'll be missed."
"What are you…?" Julie started to ask, but then she saw him. He was lying several yards away, at the end of the driveway, his body bloody and beaten and stiff and cold. Julie wailed Dean's name and ran to him, but before she could reach him, the dream got ever worse.
Suddenly, she was in a dark, hot place that smelled of blood and burnt flesh and every awful stench imaginable. The air was hot and thick and it choked her, settling on her skin like a thick, poisonous fog. Julie's throat closed up and panic threatened to overwhelm her as she recognized where she was.
She was in hell, and there was a familiar torture device in front of her, known affectionately by the demons as the rack. A poor victim was hanging suspended in the air by vicious hook in his shoulders and thighs, chains holding his limbs out. His blood dripped down into the nothingness below him, and his burnt, shredded chest heaved as he tried to get in one good breath. Every inch of him was cut or burnt or bruised almost beyond recognition, but somehow Julie knew it was him.
"Dean," Julie whispered in a horrified voice.
A demon appeared before him and sank another hook into his gut. The poor, tortured soul whimpered, and the demon chuckled, "Oh, come on, Dean. You can do better than that. Why don't you give me a real scream, beg me to stop? If you cry for me, I won't set you on fire today."
The tortured soul of the man she loved didn't reply, and the demon was suddenly holding a blowtorch. "You asked for it," the demon shrugged.
"No, Alistair, wait-" Dean croaked, panicking, but the demon didn't care. The next second, Dean was on fire, and he was screaming, but not as much as Julie, and-
"Julie! You've got to stop screaming, you'll wake the others!"
Julie opened her eyes and found herself staring up at Sam. He was sitting on the bed next to her, looking concerned, and Julie realized what must have happened. She often had nightmares, and she wasn't surprised that she was already having them about Dean now that he was gone. She hadn't had nightmares the past two nights because she'd been so drunk she couldn't stay conscious, but now…
Slowly, Julie regained her composure. Her breathing and heart rate slowed, and she sat up. She was still trembling slightly, but at least she wasn't watching Dean be tortured in hell. Sam had mentioned the name Alastair once as the master torturer in hell, the one that had Dean for forty years. She must have remembered that name. Alastair was dead, so he wasn't torturing Dean, but that didn't mean that some other demon wasn't…
No. She couldn't go down that path. She had just gotten calm. Julie put her head in her hands, and Sam sighed.
"You too, huh?" he murmured.
"What do you have nightmares about?" Julie asked flatly.
"Mostly him. I watch him die again. Or I watch him die a different way, ripped apart by hellhounds, or…" Sam stopped and took a deep breath, steadying himself. "Sometimes I see him in hell. Is that what you saw?"
"Yeah," Julie whispered. There was a long silence, and then she suddenly asked desperately, "Is it going to get better?"
"A little," Sam admitted. "It won't be as fresh. But it's never not going to hurt. You're never going to be okay again. At least, I'm not."
For a long time, the two sat in silence next to each other. Eventually, Sam suggested Julie try to sleep again, even though he knew she wouldn't be able to after that nightmare. But as he got up and reached the door, she asked softly, "Sam?"
He stopped and turned to face her. "Yeah?"
Julie looked down and took a deep breath. "I know it's stupid, but…I can't…I can't be alone right now. Can you just…stay with me?"
Sam couldn't quite figure out what emotions were going through him in that moment, so he ignored them. The point was, Julie needed him. And he needed to not be alone tonight either.
"Of course," Sam said gently, walking over to her.
There was an awkward moment of Sam being unsure what she wanted him to do. She moved over so he could lie down on the bed. For a moment, they lay stiffly next to each other, but then Julie sighed and moved closer to Sam, settling in next to him and hugging him tightly. He hugged her back and held her for a long time until she slowly relaxed.
After a while, Julie was able to drift off, with one of Sam's arms wrapped around her and her head on his chest, listening to his heart beat. Once Julie was asleep, Sam carefully brushed a couple curls out of her face and studied her as she slept.
There was a time in his life where Sam would want nothing more than to have Julie fall asleep in his arms. But this was nothing like what he had dreamed of. This was hell. His life was hell, because Dean wasn't in it. It didn't matter how happy this would have once made him. Nothing mattered, except that Dean was dead.
Sam wondered why he had said yes. It probably wasn't wise to be sleeping in the same bed as his brother's girlfriend two days after his death, especially since Sam had once loved her. But Julie had needed him, and if he was being honest, he needed her.
And there was something Dean had said, right before he knocked Sam out and got himself killed. He had asked Sam to take care of Julie. And Sam would do that, even if he didn't care about her, which he definitely did, for his brother's sake.
Sam would take care of Julie, and she would take care of him. And, while Dean's death would always hurt, and neither of them would ever probably be happy or whole again…they would be okay, after a while. Together, the two of them would be able to survive.