Chapter Seventy-One
Song Lana is singing is "Born to Die" and "Venice Bitch" by Lana Del Rey.
The night after Lana's funeral, Dean sat at the kitchen nook in the New Orleans house that he and Lana had shared for almost two years. He could almost hear her laughter as he looked into the kitchen. He remembered the night she had made Balmos for him after a long day at the shop. He was getting a summer cold and after Lana's normal remedies failed him, she turned to this classical Romanian dish.
"It's fatty and buttery," she had told him as she put the cheese Polenta in front of him.
Dean smiled and looked up at her. "What did I do to deserve you?"
Lana had sat down across from him and bit her lower lip, something that drove him crazy. "Saved the world, my sister, and me about a dozen times or so." She put her hands on her pregnant belly. "And gave me the most incredible gift."
"I could give you another, you know?"
She smiled. "Another baby?"
He had nodded.
"I do want a boy," she had said with a smile.
He had leaned back after trying the Balmos. "This is incredible."
"It was my mother's recipe," she had said.
"Do you think we would have met? You know, if it wasn't for your mom and my dad?"
"Hm…" she had mused. "Yeah, I do. I would have served you a whiskey down at the Spotted Cat and it would have been love at first sight."
Dean had grinned. "Nah, you wouldn't have been bartending. I would have met you after Sam drug me to an orchestra concert. I would have seen
you playing the violin or piano or singing and I would have made you mine that night."
"Easy tiger," she had smiled. "You can only knock me up one at a time."
Dean had stood up and pulled Lana to her feet. "Challenge accepted." He pulled her into his arms and picked her up. Dean could still hear her laughter as he carried her bride-and-groom style into their bedroom.
In real time, Dean walked back to their bedroom and stood in the doorway. Looking in at the bed they had once shared, he remembered one day in particular.
"I don't want to get out of our bed," Lana had said a little before eight in the morning.
Dean was already looking at her, brushing strands of hair out of her face. "Then let's don't."
She had smiled smugly and crawled on top of him, her bare breasts exposed. "Don't tease me."
"I wouldn't dare."
She had leaned down and kissed him lighting on his lips and then led a trail of kisses down his neck and stomach. She had looked up at him when she had reached the elastic band of his boxers. "Why do you still have this on?"
He had smiled. "Good question."
The two had spent the better part of the day making love and napping in each other's arms. It wasn't until three in the afternoon did Lana's feet touch the wood floor of their bedroom. She had picked up her guitar and sat down on the edge of the bed with Dean's full attention.
"Feet don't fail me now," she had sung softly to the beat she was strumming. "Take me to the finish line. Oh my heart it breaks every step that I take. But I'm hoping at the gates, They'll tell me that you're mine. Walking through the city streets. Is it by mistake or design? I feel so alone on a Friday night. Can you make it feel like home, if I tell you you're mine? It's like I told you honey." She had paused to look at Dean.
Dean had sat up and watched her intently. When she sang, he listened.
"Come and take a walk on the wild side. Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain. You like your girls insane. Choose your last words. This is the last time 'Cause you and I, we were born to die." She had put down her guitar and crawled into his lap. With her arms around his shoulders, she had straddled him. "Lost but now I am found. I can see but once I was blind. I was so confused as a little child. Tried to take what I could get. Scared that I couldn't find. All the answers honey."
Dean had cupped her face in his hands and kissed her.
"You saved me, Dean Winchester," she had said. "I still don't have all the answers, but I have you. And there's nothing better than that."
Dean looked at their empty bed and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Damn it, Lana. I'm not even supposed to be here," he said to the empty room. "I've died so many times and now you're dead. You got too close to me, baby, and you got killed for it. You died because of that damn deal I made. I was taught to be a good soldier, but the other ninety percent of me is absolute shit. And you had front row tickets to my shit show." Dean slid down the wall of the bedroom and brought his knees to his chest. "I wish I couldn't feel a damn thing," he said with tears streaming down his cheeks. "I'm tired, Lana. I didn't try hard enough to protect you, to keep you safe. You were always so damn gung-ho about everything. I blew it. I knew you needed me. I am so sorry." Dean buried his face into his hands, fighting off tears as he closed his eyes.
A few hours had passed and Dean was still in the same spot, falling in and out of sleep. As he was about to go into REM, he heard the front screen door slam close followed by footsteps. He jumped to his feet and pulled his pistol out of the back of his jeans.
Dean had this rage inside of him since losing Lana. There was nothing to kill to avenge her, so his built up anger made him easily triggered. He barreled through the hallway and into the kitchen.
Hayley turned to look up from the refrigerator. "It's me," she said, her words slurring.
Dean put his gun away and stepped towards her. The smell of booze and weed radiated from his little sister. "Where have you been?"
"Getting fucked up," she said honestly.
Dean saw the appeal in her method. He knew he should have scolded her and forced her to talk to him, but she was a Winchester and
Winchesters buried their pain in this exact same manor. "Too fucked up for another?" Dean asked as he grabbed a fifth of whiskey by the handle that was kept in a cabinet.
She shook her head and moved slowly to the kitchen nook.
Dean tilted his head to the living room. "Come in here," he said before walking to the couch.
Hayley did as he asked and plopped down next to him.
Dean took a long swig from the bottle and passed it to Hayley. "I got to ask, kid," he finally said after a few minutes of silence.
"Just weed," she said. "I haven't touched the other stuff."
Dean nodded, relieved. With Lana's pass of drug abuse, he didn't want Hayley to go down that road.
"I close my eyes and she's all I see," Hayley said holding the bottle of whiskey. She began to peel away the label from the bottom of the bottle to
avoid eye contact with Dean.
Dean couldn't force himself to look at Hayley either, but he knew that she was crying. He put his hand on her knee. "Me too."
"Do you understand what happened to her?"
"Enough to know that we can't bring her back."
Hayley stood up, spilling the bottle of whiskey that was sitting in her lap. "That's just what Anca said, but…"
Dean took Hayley's hands in his and pulled her back to the couch, ignoring the split booze. "Listen to me," he said sternly. "You aren't going to do this to yourself." He lifted her wrist up. "You almost died trying."
"But that was before I knew, really knew how she died. I was trying to contact her spirit first, but that wasn't the right way to go about it."
He shook his head. "What does it matter?"
"She used her essence in a spell when she died. She was moving between realms, like when I tried to summon the crossroads demon. She saved me, Dean. She used electrical currents and you and Sam as the anchor."
Dean rubbed the back of his head. He remembered this very well. It was a terrifying thing to witness. "She died doing that."
"But not for long. I can do the same."
"Absolutely not," Sam said from the doorway.
The two siblings were so deep in conversation that they didn't even hear their brother walk through the door.
Hayley stood up. "You don't get a say in this."
"The hell I don't," Sam said walking towards them. He looked at Dean, who was still sitting on the couch. "Dean."
Dean looked up at Sam. "Sammy, it's Lana."
Sam felt as if someone had punched him in the stomach. His face contorted to a worried and appalled expression as he ran his hands nervously
through his hair. "Can I talk to you?"
"No," Hayley said for Dean. "You aren't going to Winchester up me here," she said. "I roll over a lot of times when it comes to what you two want to do, but not on this. I'm going to do this with or without your help."
"Hails," Sam said softly. "You heard with Anca said. There isn't any of Lana's essence left. We have her body, but it's just a shell. If you could even force a shard of whatever made Lana Lana back into her body, it wouldn't be her, not really. Her soul isn't there."
"It worked for you," Hayley spat.
Sam tilted his head to the side and let out a deep breath. "But it didn't. And I'm paying the everlasting price for it right now. I wouldn't have chosen this way of living for myself."
Dean jerked his head to look at Sam and then turned away, trying to stay out of the conversation for a little longer. He needed to get his own opinion of what he thought they should do before listening to his younger siblings.
"Can't I do the spell?" Dean asked.
Hayley looked at her brother and shook her head. "It needs to be a blood relative."
Dean stood up and shook his head. "Sammy's right, kid. It's too dangerous."
"You aren't listening to me," Hayley said. "I don't need your permission."
Dean clenched his jaw. "I need to think about this. Give me a few days."
"We don't have days," Hayley said. "We need to act now. It may already be too late, I don't know."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.
"A bit of her is still on this plane, but it's fading by the hour," Hayley said then turned to Dean. "That's how I'll know it'll work. She's still here. I can
sense her essence. Can't you feel her?"
Dean rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged. "I don't know, Hails."
"Of course you can. Just stand still and listen for her." Hayley walked to Dean and put her hands in his. "She's still her, Dean."
Without given any time to react, Dean watched as Sam injected a clear liquid into Hayley's neck with a small syringe.
"Shhh, it's okay," Sam said softly as he held Hayley by her waist as she grabbed her neck.
"What the hell, man?" Dean asked bewildered.
Hayley's eyes began to close before she was even able to respond.
Sam picked up Hayley and placed her softly on the couch. "It's a mild sedative."
"Again, what the hell, man?"
"We can't let her do this. You know that. What if it kills her?"
Dean rubbed the back of his neck and turned his back to his brother. He wanted to yell what if it saves Lana,' but he knew that he couldn't put his sister in jeopardy.
"Don't you think Lana would have tried this when you were in Hell?" Sam shrugged. "Maybe she did. She was MIA a lot of that time."
Dean turned around to look at Sam. "So what? We're going to keep her sedated for a day? A week?"
Sam looked at Hayley, who was still very much unconscious. "I didn't really think that far ahead."
"Great, we're going to have a very pissed off witch to deal with when she wakes up on top of a comatosed angel, and a guy who's seeing shit that
ain't there after finally getting his soul back."
"Yeah, and you're an alcoholic, but nobody's perfect."
If Dean hadn't been in the state of mind he was at that moment, he would have cracked a smile at Sam's comment. "You figure out what we're doing with Hayley. I need some fresh air."
Dean walked outside and found himself sitting on the wooden swing that he had hung for Lana once the original one had developed a broken spring. His gaze traveled from the front porch to the driveway and couldn't help but get lost in thought again.
"Come here," Lana said as she swayed to the music she was playing in her head. "I've missed you on my lips."
Dean had stood up from the wooden porch swing and had made his way to her.
She had looked beautiful in the moonlight with her silk dress clinging to her baby bump. Lana put his arms around Dean's neck and pulled him
into her. Her body had swayed and he had followed her lead. "Oh, god. I want you on my lips," she had said into his ear.
With Dean's hands gently on her hips, he had kissed her.
She smiled after their kiss. "Paint me happy and blue," she had said softly. She had leaned her head backwards and her hair had blown in the
wind. Dean had kept one hand around her hips while he had used his free hand to move strands of hair out of her face.
"Say that you're mine," she had said.
"Always."
She had pulled herself back up and put her hands on his chest. "Say it."
"I'm yours."
She had smiled so sincerely that it had made his heart skip a beat. "You're beautiful," she had told him.
This had taken Dean off guard. She had called him many things before, but never something as soft as "beautiful". And he had liked it.
"And I'm a little insane."
He grinned. "You know I like my girls crazy."
She had winked at him and stepped back. "I know. That's why you love me so much." She had held her hand out to him.
Dean had took her hand. "Not the only reason."
"I know that too."
Dean forced himself back to reality and looked down at his hands. They felt so empty now that he couldn't hold Lana with them. He leaned his head back and took a deep breath. He thought losing Clara was his all time low, but somehow, this was just as bad or worse. He couldn't call on Castiel for help, nor could he ask Hayley to try to bring Lana back. Death was the end for Lana.
Headlights of a truck pulled into the driveway, causing Dean to get to his feet and look out into the darkness. A familiar pair of boots hit the dirt, followed by an even more familiar voice.
"Dean," Bobby said as he closed the driver's side door.
"Hiya, Bobby," Dean said with his hands in his jean pockets.
"Sam called."
Dean nodded.
Bobby stepped onto the front porch and pulled Dean into his arms. "I'm so sorry, son."
Dean returned the hug but pulled back quickly. "You want a beer?"
Bobby took off his backpack and pulled out a bottle of whiskey. "Thought you'd want something stronger."
"You thought right." Dean sat down in one of the two wooden rockers.
Bobby joined Dean and opened the bottle. "There ain't anything I can say."
Dean took the bottle and took a swig. "Nope."
Bobby put his hand on Dean's shoulder. "When your pops lost your momma, it nearly killed him. What kept him going was you and Sam."
Dean scoffed. "Dad never got over mom's death."
"You won't ever get over Lana's," Bobby said. "Just like I never got over Karen's." He paused. "I'm sorry you had to join the club." He paused. "It's
going to hurt for a long, long time."
"This is a shitty pep talk," Dean said.
"It ain't supposed to be a pep talk," Bobby said. "It's okay to want to die, but you have to push past that."
Dean handed Bobby the bottle after he took another swallow. "I can't close my eyes without seeing her." Dean paused. "And that's okay. It's when
I open them and she ain't there does it make me want to blow my brains out." Dean cleared his throat, trying to fight back tears. "We were so
rocky after Clara died…"
"Don't do that," Bobby said. "That girl knew how much you loved her. She wouldn't want you questioning that now. You made had some quarrels, but those petty fights don't add up to what you two had."
"So what now?"
Bobby stood up. "Now you take care of your little sister and we find out a way to fix Sam." He paused. "Let's go inside."
"You go ahead."
Bobby sighed. "Alright."
"I guess I should tell you that Hayley has been sedated. That was all Sam."
Bobby looked questionably at Dean. "I swear, you boys age me faster than the monsters we hunt."
Dean sat outside after Bobby had came and left, scolding Sam as he got back into his truck. The air was muggy and there was no breeze, but it didn't phase Dean. He had spent many nights outside with Lana when the temperature was just as harsh. She had grown up in New Orleans, so she was used to the heat and humidity that made Dean uncomfortable. With half of the bottle of whiskey consumed, Dean stumbled to his feet. He hadn't meant to drink so much, but it's what he did. He would beat himself up for it in the morning when his entire body was doing the same.
Sam was still awake, looking over a handful of books on the kitchen nook table. "I put Hayley to bed."
"Still sedated?" Dean asked.
Sam shrugged. "In hindsight, I know that was fucked up."
"You think?"
"I'll talk to her in the morning when she wakes up. Can we just please be on the same side?"
Dean put his hand on Sam's shoulder and sat down next to him. "Yeah." He cleared his throat. "You know, I wouldn't let her go through with it."
"I know."
"I just miss her so fucking much."
Sam's expression softened as Dean's voice cracked. "I know, Dean."
"When Jess… died… how did you…"
"I've never gotten over it," Sam said softly. "You'll carry it with you for the rest of your life."
Dean scoffed. "I don't want to feel better," he said honestly.
Sam stood up. "You're hurting, Dean. And you're going to hurt for a long time, but one day you're going to wake up and it's going to hurt a little
less because you'll have almost forgiven yourself."
"How do you know that?"
"Because I know you, Dean. Because I've been following you around my entire life. I mean, I've been looking up to you since I was four. And you'll
get through this. You're terrified and in so much pain. A part of me feels like I've let you down. If I was conscious when Lana had left, maybe you
would have gone."
"Hey," Dean said sternly. "Don't do that, you hear me. Lana's death isn't on you."
"It's not on you, either, Dean."
Dean nodded. "Maybe, maybe not." He let out a deep breath. "I'm going to bed."
"Alright, Dean." Sam watched as Dean walked a few feet down the hall. "I love you, Dean."
"Love you too, Sammy," Dean said without missing a beat. He walked into the bedroom that he had shared with Lana and thought about sleeping
on the couch instead. But that action would be too open for his siblings to witness. So, he took off his shirt and jeans and sat on top of the
comforter.
Dean knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, so he bent over and pulled his laptop out of his bag.
He opened his laptop and realized how badly he needed a shower, but he couldn't bare the thought of moving after the whiskey had set in. Upon opening the browser, he was alerted to a new email… from Lana. He hadn't opened his computer in days, so it must have been under a week old.
Dean sat up straight and clicked on the video file immediately.
"Hiya, tiger," Lana greeted. She looked tired and her voice said raspy, probably also from the lack of sleep. "I tried to call both you and Hails a few times, but the cell reception here is shotty. I want to tell you that I'm doing well, but it's proving to be more difficult than I anticipated." She paused. "You know, I've been thinking about that time we went to Venice. Hayley and Sam were checking out some convention and we ditched them for a few days two summers ago." She smiled thinking about it. "We went to that bar connected to the ice cream parlor… we got so trashed and that guy called me a "Venice bitch," and then you told him I was your Venice bitch before you knocked him out. We ran out without paying our tab."
She laughed. "I've been thinking a lot about the times we've spent together. From hunting to sitting on our front porch.
Lana cleared her throat. "So I wrote this for you. I'm sure you know all my songs are about you in some way or another," she smiled. "It's kind of embarrassing, but I just want you to know that you're the love I never thought I would find or even deserve."
She leaned back and gently began tapping on a tambourine for a beat. "Fear fun, fear love. Fresh out of fucks, forever. Tryin' to be stronger for you. Ice cream, ice queen. I dream in jeans and leather. Life's dream, I'm sweet for you. Oh God, miss you on my lips. It's me, your little Venice bitch. On the stoop with the neighborhood kids. Callin' out, bang bang, kiss kiss. You're in the yard, I light the fire. And as the summer fades away. Nothing gold can stay. You're beautiful and I'm insane. We're American-made." Her voice was soft and low, and to Dean she sounded mesmerizing.
Dean wiped away the tears he didn't realize were falling freely from his eyes.
Lana bit her lower lip and wiped a single tear from the corner of her eye. "Give Hayley my love. I'll see you around, tiger."
Dean sat up, wanting there to be more, but the video ended. He let out a deep sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. He knew rewatching the video all night wasn't the healthiest thing, but he told himself he would try harder tomorrow.
