Chapter 7: Mad world

Nightfall, April 5th

Dean's face was contorted with anger and pain as he stepped harder, rougher on the gas pedal, putting as much distance between him and the bunker. As if she knew, Baby behaved perfectly, her engine purring just to try and sooth the ache that not even angelic grace could subdue. Finally, the dirt road lead him to a cliff and it was either stop, or drive off, and Dean wasn't brave enough to do the ladder.

He took deep breaths, gulping for air that simply would not fill his lungs, gripping Baby's wheel tight, just to try and shift his focus somewhere else, away from the turmoil in his chest, a tornado of feelings that threatened to burst out.

So badly he wanted to punch someone, hit something, yell and trash things around him, just to get some of the frustration out in the open, but all he managed, all he had strength to do was slam his hand over the dashboard, immediately feeling bad about it. Baby deserved better.

As a result of his outburst, the radio came on all on it's own, the car filling with a gentle sound of a piano playing. Dean let a choked out sob when he realized it was yet another song by that stupid band. But still, he listened.

All around me are familiar faces

Worn out places, worn out faces

Bright and early for the daily races

Going nowhere, going nowhere

Dean huffed a laugh at how true that was. For him, everything stopped, while the others just kept going.

Their tears are filling up their glasses

No expression, no expression

Hide my head, I wanna drown my sorrow

No tomorrow, no tomorrow

The song's lyrics might not have been spot on, like they were before, but the slow, melancholic melody allowed his pain to flow through him freely, more then he would ever let it on his own. A single tear rolled down his cheek, leaving a trail of unspoken sadness and unexpressed love.

And I find it kind of funny

I find it kind of sad

The dreams in which I'm dying

Are the best I've ever had

I find it hard to tell you

I find it hard to take

When people run in circles it's a very, very

Mad world, mad world

He couldn't understand it. He couldn't figure out why this was happening to them, why couldn't things just be simple, easy, for once?

Why did there have to be one hardship after another, the end of the world always persistent at their door step, and just when they thought it was over, a something new, bigger and harder comes to crumble the ground underneath their feet.

Before it was Michael, tearing Dean's soul to pieces along with the whole world, and now? Now it's a kid with powers beyond anything they ever encountered and with absolutely no moral compass to make him see right from wrong.

And I find it kind of funny

I find it kind of sad

The dreams in which I'm dying

Are the best I've ever had

I find it hard to tell you

I find it hard to take

When people run in circles it's a very, very

Mad world, mad world

And yeah, it was funny and kind of sad, that Dean actually found himself wishing he was ten decades ago, stuck in hell and still suffering, because that... That was nothing compared to this, a walk in the park. And it was maddening, the fact that they always kept on fighting, always pushing on, even if the whole world around them was going up in flames.

This time, Dean didn't think he had it in him to fight anymore.

A month ago:

"Hey, hey, easy, easy there..." Dean said, jumping out of his chair and coming to help Lena sit up. He ran soothing circles over her back as she coughed, pleased that there was no blood this time. For weeks, Lena was drifting between, her body spasming with familiar orange glow, and every time, Dean thoughtThis is it. I lost her.

And every time, she would come back.

He had no idea it was because of him that she still fought, that she could feel his hand on hers, squeezing, anchoring her to him. Still, he spent every moment by her side, telling her to fight through, to hang on, that this time he was there, waiting for her. That this time he wasn't letting go.

Thankfully, Lena didn't let go either. She woke up a few times, disoriented, watching him with unseen eyes, but at least they weren't black anymore. The demon was gone, buried under gallons of purified blood and spell work that brought forth her humanity. It took a few weeks, but she slowly came to, physically looking much better, she responded to any question and understood what happened, but otherwise didn't speak. Didn't even look at Dean.

The ache in his chest was ever-present as Dean remained by her side, watching her gaze into nothingness, sad and silent. He would take her hand in his, and she would glance at it, but never up to meet his eyes. So many times he wanted to speak up, to say something, but he didn't know what to say. What could he possibly tell her that would make any of this better? It was completely his fault that she was like this, because he left her behind, and even if he promised, vowed not to leave her again, she wouldn't believe him anyway. Why should she?

Not only did he hurt her back then, he hurt her now, he was the reason she had to let the demon take over, to save them both. To save him. After everything he did to her, she gave up the one thing she clung onto, she gave up her humanity, to save him, regardless of what might happen to her. He owed her so much, and hated himself for not be able to say it.

Sam came a few times, checking on them, being a lot more compassionate than he was before. He apologized to Lena, and she didn't look at him either, but she nodded and Dean could feel she forgave him, she understood he was only looking after Dean. Last time Sam came he said he was onto something, a possible solution to extracting the grace out of the enhanced monsters, something to do with that egg they used with Lucifer and tried to use on Michael, but Dean wasn't really listening. Not until Sam said that if he could crack it, they could go back home.

After that, Lena seem to retreat even more into herself, turning away from Dean as much as she could and not glancing down when he took her limp hand in his. It was as if she was trying to distance herself from him, from the pain that will come when he left. It reminded Dean that she didn't know how he felt, that she didn't know he won't ever let her go again.

"Lena..." Finally he spoke up, but she didn't react, not even when he took her hand. "Lena, please... Look at me." He said, and she turned to do just that, her face so filled with pain, and Dean realized, this wasn't something she wanted to do. She didn't want to look at him, but had to, because he said so. He felt it, over the past few weeks, their connection strengthening, he could feel her struggling against it, and it hurt that she didn't want to be tethered to him, but he couldn't blame her. Nor could he do anything about it. But he could make sure she didn't need to respond to his every request.

"You don't... You don't have to look at me if you don't want to. I am not ordering you to..." As soon as he said it, her gaze fell down to her lap, relieved, but shaken. He had no idea this effected her so, that their connection was that strong, but he should have figured it out. When the demon latched onto his pain, gaining strength from it, it deepened their bond, and now, Lena was suffering because of it. Because she is bound to him, and thought he would leave. It would tear her apart.

"I am not going to leave. Not without you." Dean said and he could feel her breath hitch, her eyes falling closed. He could tell she wanted to believe him, but her experience told her otherwise. "Not this time. I won't leave you this time. You... I want you to come with us. I want to stay with us, with... With me." He said and he could feel her breathing picking up, and he couldn't stand to see her like that, so without thinking, he came closer, enveloped her smaller form and hugged her tight, pulling her to his chest. He could feel her tears soaking through his shirt, but it was alright, it would be alright. She knew he meant it, he could feel it.

They were going to be okay.

For the next few days, they grew closer, constantly staying by each other's side, even sleeping in the same bed. It was pure platonic, nothing sexual, nothing romantic, just the need to feel the other one close, to have the physical contact. It was reassuring, to both of them, to constantly feel connected, and little by little, Lena started talking.

Telling him how she felt, both during her time in Hell, and after she was caught by the Brits. She told him how angry she was at him and how she thought it was best to just stay away. She also added that she had no idea what made her cave a few months ago and came to seek them out. Sure, the Brits needed help, they were in way over their heads with the Michael monsters and their diminished numbers, but that wasn't all.

"I could feel you. I could feel the pain you were in, and I tried, I tried so hard to stay away, but... I couldn't." She said with a lot of sorrow in her voice, sad that she couldn't be there for him after Michael's possession, despite everything that happened between them. There was nothing he could say to that except hug her tightly.

Over the next two days, she slowly came out of her shell and out of the bed, walking outside for some fresh air, along with Dean. She stepped over the devil's trap with a bleak smile on her face, but Dean already knew the demon wasn't there anymore, but buried deep down, the blood and the spell along with Dean and their connection holding it sealed away tightly.

They didn't part at all more then a few minutes during the rest of their stay, and even on the airport back to the States. Dean held her hand the entire time and she provided the strength he needed to get over his fear of planes just by being there, being close.

As they waited for Sam to claim their bags, Dean turned to face her, looking down into her warm brown eyes. He tucked a loose string of her hair behind her ear and leaned in, setting one soft kiss on her lips, short and sweet. She huffed a smile and he followed as their foreheads touched, simply enjoying the presence of the other.

She was a part of his life now, wherever he went she followed and vice versa. She was the part he was missing, a part of himself he left in hell a long time ago, and now with her there... He felt complete.

Afternoon, April 5th:

Sam led the way as the three of them descented down the stairs of the bunker, Dean's step light with Lena by his side. It just felt right, like she always should have been there, and Dean couldn't wait for her to meet Cas and Jack and Mary. Jack would accept her right of the bet, kid was like that. He was sure mom might throw a fit when she found out about who Lena was, but he knew they could handle it, he knew once mom saw that Lena could never be a threat, that she could never hurt him, Mary would be somewhat ok with her. Cas dealt with worse, but Dean did worry about how Lena would accept him, considering he was the one sort of took him away from her, busted him out of hell.

It will work out. It has to. She is a part of him, and a part of their family now, no other way around it. Dean wouldn't allow it.

"Hey Cas! We're home." Sam said as they came down, the angel standing by the war table. He gave them a small smile, it wasn't that he could do bigger, but even this one was forced, Dean could see it.

"Welcome back." The angel said, glancing over them all, not lingering on Lena one bit. His mind was either elsewhere, because Dean knew he still had enough juice to see her soul, or he just didn't care, trusting Sam and Dean to know by now who they could accept in their company. Turned out it was a bit of both.

"What's up, Cas?" Sam asked coming closer to the angel. Dean stepped forward too, knowing that look on Cas' face and bracing himself for bad news, while Lena lingered in the back.

"As you know, we went to see Donatello, just before you left for England. We came back a few weeks ago and we have been staying here at the bunker ever since. Mary was... She was at Dona's cabin, and she wanted to come and see us, but I told her not to come." Castiel started, and Dean didn't like how he beat around the bush.

"What is it, Cas? What did Donatello say? Did something happen?" Dean pushed on.

"He... He could not be sure, but he believes that when Jack killed Michael using soul magic, that he... That he burnt it all." Cas said with so much defeat in his voice, so much sadness and pain in his eyes, so uncharacteristic for an angel, but Cas cared about Jack, he was like a father to him and he felt responsible. So did Dean. It was his fault that he let Michael in in the first place and if he could have controlled him, kept him locked up like he was supposed to, Jack would have been ok.

They all remained silent for a few minutes, processing this, and in the end it was Dean who spoke up. "Alright. So we work this out. We dig, we look, we find a way to..."

"It's gone Dean. His soul, is gone. It can not be rebuilt, only God could do that." Cas countered.

"So we find God. We find him and we make him fix Jack. Or Amara. Or something else. We find a way. We don't give up. We never give up. That's not what we do." Dean insisted.

"Yeah, no, we can't just sit by. We'll dig. We'll find something." Sam agreed. "How... How's he doing?"

"He's been in his room most of the time, just..." Whatever Cas was going to say was interrupted by Dean saying Lena's name, looking back at her, feeling something strange between their bond.

"Lena?"

But Lena stood, frozen, her eyes unfocused, but still looking at him with a dose of distress and heartbreak. They teared up and she let her lips part as if she was going to say something, but the words never came. An orange glow flickered through her entire body and Dean's eyes went wide, panic settling deep inside his stomach.

"No, no, no... No!!!" He yelled, rushing towards her, but by the time he got to her, just as he was about to touch her, the orange glow flickered once again and her entire body and soul dissolved into ashes.

Gone.

She was gone.

She was just there, and now she was gone.

"She was a demon." Jack said, stepping up from behind. "We kill demons." He stated, no emotion, no expression on his face. He stated, turned and walked away towards the kitchen. Dean just stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to move, unable to breathe.

Gone.

She was gone.

She was just there, and now she was gone.

It's a very, very... Mad world. Mad world

The end