This chapter was an assbutt to write, it just didn't want to come out right! ò_ó I'm not totally satisfied with it.
Chapter 40
She could feel the pain. The shame clutching her heart with gelid claws. The overwhelming guilt of her misdeeds... all the innocent people that had suffered because of her. It weighed on her like a ton of lead.
"Alex?"
Her fear, her selfishness, her envy... they crept up her soul like the blood in her veins, leaving nothing but rot in their way. Probably a lifetime wouldn't be enough to count all the tears that had been shed because of her.
"Alex, wake up!"
All the hurt feelings and broken hearts she had stomped on, blissfully unaware... or uncaring. Just rolling on, not minding whoever was in her path, only focusing on her own matters. But now, finally the guilt was reaching out to make her pay.
"Dammit!"
A slap sounded in the barely lit bedroom. Alex opened her eyes with a gasp, air barely filtering into her lungs, her breath fast and uneven. Claire was straddling her on the makeshift bed on the floor, holding down both of her wrists.
"Hey! Hey, it's ok. You're fine, don't worry. Everything's fine, Alex," the voice of her surrogate sister, low and calming, sounded like cotton in her ears. "You're in the bunker. You're safe, Alex. Breathe, just keep breathing."
The ex-vampire girl obeyed, noticing how her heart was beating furiously in her chest. Inhaling deeply, she exhaled slowly, feeling needles and pins behind her eyes. After a minute or two, the blonde huntress considered it safe to release her hands and move away, sitting back on her own bed.
"What... what happened?" Alex asked, her voice still adjusting.
"I'm not sure, why don't you tell me?" Claire handed her a glass of water, worry painted on her face. "You were making some weird noises. At first I thought that you were having a dirty dream or something and was going to tell you to shut up, but then you started choking. And when I turned on the lamp, I saw you crying and strangling yourself!"
"Was I?" the nurse checked her neck, and yes, the flesh was a bit sore and tender under her fingertips. She also noticed how wet her face was. "Sorry, I... I don't even remember that well what I was dreaming."
"You were begging someone to stop," Claire whispered, raising her legs back on the bed. "Asking to forgive you."
"No, that was..." Alex stopped, as if her brain finally realized something important. "That wasn't me."
At the inquiring stare of her roommate, Alex hastily got up and walked out, a worried huntress following her to the war room. Placing her hands on the map table, she confirmed her suspicions.
"Georgia," she muttered.
But it was strange, she didn't understand. A couple of hours before, there was no red dot over Georgia; in fact, comparing it to the other remaining dots in the map, this one had been far away in Hawaii. The others were still slowly but steadily moving towards their intended channels, but apparently hers had decided to simply jump half across the ocean in one big leap.
"Hey, what are you doing still up?" Dean called out to them, raising from his seat in the library and frowning at the two young girls in pajamas. "Didn't you go to bed already?"
Before they could answer, the other hunter, who was talking on the phone, practically stole the words from Alex's mouth.
"Georgia? Becky, what are you doing there? I thought you lived in Delaware, or at least that's where you... the last time we... you know what, nevermind. What's wrong?"
Momentarily distracted by his brother, Dean felt a tug on his shirt, calling his attention back to the girls. Alex pointed at the red dot pulsating in the map table, in the state of Georgia, and then pointed at herself as if saying 'Mine'.
The older Winchester nodded in understanding, before moving back to Sam and beckoning him to put the woman on the speaker.
"Hello, Becky! It's Dean here. Glad to hear you."
"You're lying," Becky deflected, sniffling. "You're not glad, but it's nice to hear it for once. Thank you, Dean."
Arching an eyebrow, Dean looked at his brother, slightly confused by such depressing answer coming from a normally peppy person. Sam nodded silently, sharing the sentiment.
"I need help, Sam," she continued sobbing pitifully. "Please. Because I think... I think that I'm going to die."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Jessica remained awake on the bed, reading a book about something called a rusalka from Slavic mythology, while waiting for Sam to return to their room. The last few days had been cold and sad, her soulmate barely talking to her when strictly necessary. Not that she blamed him, but she didn't know what to do to repair their relationship. Apologies obviously weren't enough, not when he was refusing to hear Jessica out and let her share her point of view.
The door opened and Sam came in. He only looked at her for a second before averting his eyes.
"I leave in the morning," Sam informed her curtly, sitting on the bed and changing into his sleeping tee. "Alex's key in Georgia."
"Okay," she accepted quietly, closing her book and putting it on the nightstand.
Not speaking another word, the man she loved turned off the lamp and arranged himself to sleep, his back turned to her. Jessica felt her eyes prickle at the silent rejection, but she didn't say anything. This was only her fault, and there was no use in crying over spilt milk. If only Sam had let her explain... She hadn't been trying to control his life, just wanted to make him see that there were other options still available for him.
Jessica had dared to imagine a quaint little life for the both of them, with a bit of everything. After finishing her history major, maybe she could apply for a job in a school or a museum in the nearest city. They could rent a small flat in Lebanon or remain in the bunker, she didn't mind. Sam, if he graduated, could set up a tiny legal office and deal with people wanting to sue their neighbours for bushes overgrowing into their gardens or dogs peeing in their yards. To keep up the farce, the office would be closed half the days if Sam was busy hunting, or... ahem, managing legal business in the city, since Lebanon itself was too small to occupy all of his time and make a living out of it, right? Perhaps someday, along the way, they would finally marry and have a kid or two.
Gosh, her heart felt so heavy right now.
In the darkness, Jessica looked at her fiancé. He could be just on the other side of the bed but it felt like miles to her, so she scooted closer until touching his back, yearning to feel his warmth. Normally, whenever she did this, Sam would turn around and scoop her in his arms, then they would make love or simply fall asleep together cuddling.
Tonight, he didn't.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Very early in the morning, and with the sky outside still completely dark, some of the bunker tenants were already up and preparing to leave, despite the few hours they had had to rest. Alex was practically snoozing on her feet after a bad night, and the only reason she hadn't faceplanted on the floor yet was because Adam had an arm around her waist, holding up the girl with her head on the crook of his neck.
"You're going too?" Dean asked his half-brother, mildly surprised. "Why?"
"I'm a bit bored of the bunker. I want some fresh air, some action besides all the training and studying. Also, I kinda owe her some backup after... after what happened when I was a centaur."
"Hey brat, don't sweat it. We've all been there, done that," the hunter smirked, not totally buying the excuse. "I've been a vampire and a demon, Sam has been soulless and a Chewbacca imposter, Claire was a werewolf... A centaur isn't such a big deal."
Said ex-soulless hunter arrived just then, carrying a duffel of his own in one hand and a package in the other. He looked hesitantly from his older brother to their winged friend and back to Dean, seemingly reaching a decision.
"These arrived yesterday at the post office, before you came back," Sam spoke to him confidentially, handing him the package. "I get this isn't the best moment, but... you can start reading whenever you feel like it."
Dean looked at the package with a sad grimace, intuiting what was probably inside, but after a few seconds he took it. It wasn't like he didn't need it anymore, he just wasn't in the mood for it at the present time.
"Can't know how long this thing with Becky is going to take, but we'll try to be back before your birthday next week, ok?"
"Hmpf, please bitch! As if there's anything to celebrate."
"Whatever you say, jerk. Just don't go crying on your pillow if we're late!"
"You sure don't want me to come along?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, it's fine. You just returned from a case, so... take a break for a few days while I deal with whatever this is." Sam nudged his brother's shoulder. "Try and see if you and Kevin are able to find anything about the Reaper Tablet that Gabriel mentioned. Or any other, actually. At this point I won't be surprised if they begin to sprout like mushrooms after the rain."
After saying goodbye and wishing them a safe trip, the freckled man returned to his bedroom. His again, since Castiel hadn't come back to him last night, and honestly, Dean wasn't sure how to feel about it. He was angry with the angel, yes, and didn't want to face him so soon... but also the bed had felt so incredibly cold and lonely. Had his memory foam mattress always been so big and empty? No, of course not, because before Gabriel's Christmas present it had been a single, not a double like it was now. It was intended for two people sharing, but Dean's second person hadn't showed up at all in the long, long night. Tossing and turning uncomfortably, the early morning couldn't arrive soon enough for him.
Leaving the package on the desk, he was doubting if opening it yet or not when someone knocked on his door.
"Go away, Cas. I'm not in the spirit for a heart-to-heart right now," Dean spoke gravely but reluctantly.
"Dean, please." Castiel ignored the request and entered anyway, closing the door after him. "I do not want this to become another one of the things that torn us apart for so long. Let's talk it over."
"Talk it over?" the hunter repeated snidely, turning to face the seraph. "You think this is something that can just be talked over? No amount of words is gonna change whatever of your feelings and thoughts were poured into your perfect paradise, Cas!"
Castiel looked away, ashamed but unable to rebound the Righteous Man's reproach. Dean touched the package at his back, losing all his spitfire and pondering his next words.
"Am I really doing that bad, Cas?" he asked quietly, emotions and hurt clear in his voice. "I mean, I knew that I was doomed to fuck it up somehow sooner or later, but I thought... I thought it was going well between us, all things considered."
"And it is, Dean!" Castiel responded in earnest, desperately wanting to reassure his beloved. "Of course it is!"
"No, no. You can't..." Dean denied, smiling sadly and shaking his head, placing a fist over his mouth for a moment. "You can't still say that. Not after I saw what supposedly was your climax of a fantasy world. Not anymore."
Yeah, no fucking way. Because in that fantastic world filled with peace and happiness... they weren't together. Dean remembered it all, he remembered every single excruciating detail. After all, he had spent entire days inside the dreamland, searching everywhere for the heavenly warrior.
He remembered kissing Lisa every morning at breakfast, before taking Ben to school or playing baseball on the weekends. He remembered walking down the street to Bobby's junkyard and working there with his dad, repairing cars together. Lunching with Sam and a pregnant Jess, who lived in the house just in front of Lisa and him. Drinking beer with Benny and Jo in the Roadhouse around the corner, chatting with Ellen while not-very-secretly Ash was making out with Pamela. Joining Charlie in teaching Emma the basics of LARPing in the backyard of the house next door, while on the other side house Kevin was working on who knew what scientific project with Linda. Mary and Kate baking pies together for Adam's fundraising fair. Jody playing in the park with her son and husband. Claire with Jimmy and Amelia. Eileen. Missouri. Rufus. Alex. Kaia. Jack with Kelly Kline... it was like a whole neighbourhood had been filled solely with people important to Dean. People they had lost or hurt.
And then... there were the angels. Angels like you would imagine them, kind and courageous, full of love and mercy and candy and rainbows, taking care of humanity. FemRaphael ran a pet store specialized in training service animals for the disabled. Zachariah was the manager of a social lunchroom for the poor. Naomi was the principal of a free school for the children of single mothers. Bartholomew taught music lessons to the blind. For damn's sake, Dean had seen fucking Uriel helping old ladies to cross the street!
But among all those incredible facts, Castiel was nowhere to be found. In his own dreamland, he believed it best for him not to exist.
"You know how I feel towards Lisa and Ben," Dean spoke hoarsely, his tone accusing. "That's something that is never going to disappear. How do you think it was for me to see them, see us, playing house again? I wanted to get out the very first second I stepped into that house, but nooo, I had to endure that pain for days because no matter how many times I called out to you, or prayed to you, you didn't come for me."
"Dean..." Castiel attempted to talk.
"I had to threaten myself with a butcher knife for you to finally show your face, Cas!" the Righteous Man yelled irately. "Oh yeah, what a joy to know that in your perfect world a Dean Winchester couldn't die, but it didn't matter if one of his most important people didn't even exist. Despite all that we were to each other... despite what we're supposed to be to each other now. No, Cas. The cake was a lie."
He waited for a moment, wanting to hear whatever the seraph had to say for himself, but nothing came. Castiel felt tongue-tied, having no words to do anything else than keep apologizing, but it was evident that no quantity of apologies would make it better.
"I've tried my best at this relationship thing, you know?" Dean confessed, his voice brittle now. "And it has been so, so damn difficult. Just to move and touch you, hug you, kiss you... Not because your male vessel or whatever," he raised a hand and delicately grazed his knuckles on Castiel's cheek, staring into his eyes, "but simply because for once in my wretched life I wanted something and actually went for it, all guns ablaze, instead of keep denying myself. I wanted you, Cas, but obviously it wasn't enough."
His hand fell. The Winchester turned his back to the angel again, placing his hands on the desk, his shoulders sagging. For all the years they had known each other, the implied message was clear to the angel, and he acquiesced. Without any further attempt to talk, a heartbroken Castiel exited the room and left the hunter alone.
"Sorry I wasn't enough, Cas."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
For the rest of the day, more or less the usual routine continued in the bunker. In the afternoon, at the time of lore lessons, the youngsters and the two women gathered in the library as usual, each one of them already with a book of their choice. But something was a bit different than expected.
"Where is Father?" Emma asked the angel, slightly puzzled. "It's his turn to give the lecture."
"Dean is not feeling very well right now," Castiel answered, saddened. "He is in the garage, doing maintenance on the Impala. He does that whenever he needs to... work his mind around other matters."
The amazon considered his response for a moment, before abandoning her book and leaving the room, uninterested. It wasn't like she could read those thick books yet on her own, she was still at elementary-school level. The celestial warrior doubted if calling her back, but the looks of the other people told him it was alright to just let her go this one time. There were more days to learn.
When Emma arrived in the car pool, she found her progenitor in a dirty tee and old jeans, half-bent over the motor of his adored vehicle.
"Father," she spoke to him suddenly.
Surprised, Dean reacted standing up abruptly and hitting his head on the engine cover.
"Ouch! What the hell... Oh," he instantly stopped grumbling after seeing her, though rubbed his sore spot. "Hey there, pretty bunny. Shouldn't you be in class?"
"Shouldn't you be in class?" she threw back the question at him, ignoring the strange endearment. "Why aren't you?"
"I, uh... wasn't in the mood to play teacher today. Not like I'm any good at it anyway," he admitted, bending back over the motor.
"I like when you teach me," Emma retorted, crossing her arms. "And I've been waiting for you. You said that you would be back in a couple days, but you were away for more than a week. And I know how long a week is: it's not two days."
Dean looked at her daughter, bewildered. Almost afraid to hope. Could she mean...?
"Does it mean that you missed me, little one?"
"I... guess?" the amazon accepted, frowning, as if not very sure herself. "I've got better at writing. I know how to write everyone's names now. And most other things too! Everyone has been helping me... but Kevin is mean sometimes, he tells me words too long or with muted letters. I don't like invisible letters. Next time we're training, I'm going to punch him in the face."
The hunter very seriously wished that was an empty threat, because who knows what kind of damage the girl's strength would do to the prophet. However, he couldn't help to be distracted by the adorable sight of a nervous Emma prattling. She was reciting her accomplishments as if she was desperate to be acknowledged... by him, no less.
"And... and I know how to add too now. Not big numbers yet, but Jess bought me an easy math notebook."
"Emma!" Dean interrupted her, placing a hand on her shoulder, a proud grin on his face. "That's awesome, Emma. You're doing very good."
The girl stopped talking, calming down. She even smiled timidly.
"Thank you, Father."
When Dean retired his hand from the amazon's shoulder, both of them grimaced at the grease stain it left on her shirt.
"Dammit, sorry!" the hunter almost panicked, trying to clean it with a rag that was equally dirty. "I didn't realize... fuuu-dge, sorry."
"It doesn't matter," Emma dismissed. "Why are you so filthy anyway? You also smell weird."
"Motor oil," Dean explained, turning his focus back to the machine. "Plenty of filthy and stinky stuff when you do car maintenance."
"Why do you do it then?"
"Well, because someone has to. You can't leave an engine unattended forever. Besides, I like it."
"Why?"
Dean sighed, momentarily annoyed. Was this the 1000 Questions Day or something? He just wanted to work in peace on his Baby... but his other baby was important too.
"It relaxes me, I guess. Helps me get my mind off other things. Makes me remember good times with my dad too."
This revelation ensnared Emma's attention immediately.
"Your... dad?" she repeated, cautiously. "You never talked about him."
"Yeah, well. It's not the most interesting subject. And whenever I do, people usually get the wrong impression."
Emma remained silent, but her curiosity was deafening, prompting her father to keep talking while reaching for the wrench.
"My dad and I... and Sam too, we had a strained relation." Dean quieted for a second, thinking over his memories. "Our childhood was no fairytale, always on the move, and chasing after things that make normal people run away in fear. John Winchester was a harsh man... life made him a harsh man. Never enjoying a little happiness in his life, constantly finding another stone in his path, unknowingly being a pawn of a sick game for Heaven. He thought that his own father abandoned him as a child, you know? No wonder he didn't want to give us away. After Mum was killed, we were the only thing he still had."
"Why would he give you away?" the girl asked, confused.
"Because... the life we led wasn't appropriate for kids, that I'll admit, but not that we were normal kids from the very beginning either. Dad protected us in the only way he knew how, training us and making us strong, able to defend ourselves from the things that intended to harm us. Helping other people too along the way. Yeah, Dad was far from perfect... but the most important thing in a parent, Emma, is that they love you. And that, I never doubted for a single day in my life."
The amazon nodded, trying to catch the life lesson that she was sure was somewhere there in her father's words, but the love-thing was still hard for her to grasp. However, their conversation reminded her of something that she had watched on TV not long ago.
"Life is a circus, Charlie Brown."
"What?" Dean got up, looking at her baffled.
"It's from a cartoon that I like. I watch cartoons sometimes with Jack and your male mate."
"My...? Oh, right."
Without knowing it, Emma had brought back to her father's mind the very thing he was attempting to forget about. Perhaps that was the cause why, upset as he was, Dean didn't pay enough attention at the screw he was working on, loosening it up instead of tightening it as he had intended. A gush of oil spurted from the motor piece all over his tee, even splashing his cheek.
"Dammit, what the hell!" the hunter grumbled, hurrying to close the conduit again.
Then a sound reached his ears. A marvellous sound that completely smothered his anger over the misbehaving screw: it was a laugh. Dean had to blink a couple times to make sure he wasn't hallucinating, but no, it was totally real: Emma was laughing.
"Emma?" Dean muttered, almost afraid of breaking the spell.
"Sorry, that was... ha ha ha!" Emma tried to contain her giggles. "I don't even know... ha ha... what I'm doing, but I just... ha ha ha ha! For a moment I felt so bubbly, just like master Gabriel said. Ha ha ha! I couldn't help it."
"Bubbly?" he repeated, dumbfounded.
"Yes, bubbly. Here in my chest, like something jumping. Is that bad?"
"No, not at all!" Dean blurted immediately, smiling even if he didn't quite get it. "Bubbly is fine, totally fine. Be all the bubbly you want, bunny."
The amazon finally calmed down after a minute. She placed a hand on the middle of her chest, above her sternum.
"It's a nice feeling, being bubbly. I think I like it."
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Sam was desperately wanting to finally arrive at Becky's location. Not because he was so impatient to see her again, mind you, but because traversing snowy roads past the middle of January was no thrill. Specially not when the Lincoln Continental that you have borrowed from your almost-angel-in-law had an obvious heater issue than Dean should definitely be informed about.
Also, capitol state cities were expensive. Oh, and of course there was the traffic.
"Hey, Adam. Have you found already the place Becky told us to meet her at?"
"Yeah, I think so," the blond answered, looking at his phone GPS. "We're already close, like ten more minutes or so. Turn left on the third."
"How are you feeling, Alex?" Sam asked her, worried.
"Not very good, after two nights of almost no sleep," the nurse murmured tiredly. "But I'll manage."
Her neck was sensitive and the sides were covered in small bruises. To the naughty mind, they could have passed as loving hickeys, if not for the fact that they were marked in a very regular pattern... like those of hands. It was only a fortunate fact that nobody would find strange a scarf in the winter.
After reaching the shopping place where Becky was waiting for them, they still had to find a spot to park. When they finally entered the warm store, the three of them sighed in delight, before looking around at the shelves full of comics and other media merchandising.
"Sam, is that you?" a female voice inquired in bemusement. "What have you done to your luscious hair?"
The Winchester turned around to greet her properly, but before he could utter a word, Becky had already launched herself at him. His first instinct had been to push her away, but... Sam noticed that something was different. Where in the past the vivacious woman had behaved all octopus-like over him, trying to feel him up at the slightest opportunity, this time she merely clutched his shirt with a desperate hand. She was trembling, resting against his body like a frightened child seeking solace. Frowning in confusion, Sam hugged her awkwardly.
"Oh, Sam. I'm so happy to see you!" Becky started sobbing almost instantly. "Thanks so much for coming."
"Ahem," Adam hawked politely after a minute or two.
"Uh, Becky... let's talk a bit, ok?" Sam gently released the woman. "I haven't come alone. These are Adam Milligan and Alex Jones. Guys, this is Becky Rosen."
"Your half brother and the almost-vampire girl that sheriff Mills took in," she nodded without batting an eye, offering a handshake. "Nice to meet you. In person, I mean. Not in a book."
"Likewise," Alex said. "You seem to be in trouble."
She certainly looked the part. Her hair was shorter than what Sam remembered, as were her petite frame thinner and paler sunken face. Her clothing style had also changed, wearing a hip-long turtleneck instead of her usual school-y fashion.
"Yes, something like that," Becky whispered, guiding them to a more secluded part of the store. "I think some kind of creature is after me."
"What makes you think that?" Sam asked.
Becky looked away for a second, nervous, but reached a hand to her turtleneck and pulled it down. To the shock of the three guests, it revealed several and very familiar fingertip marks.
Thanks for reading and reviewing!