Seven Devils
Chapter 34 / The Burden of Caring
"To perceive is to suffer."
— Aristotle
Getting out of that room was an outer-body experience. Marlene could see herself scurrying down the hallway, could feel her face burning and her heart hammering against her ribcage — it was like watching a second-rate thriller and lamenting the absolute idiocy of what the protagonist had done to get themselves into that situation.
Alright, so she'd met her dad. What's the big deal? It's not like she'd given him any spoilers on what's to come or done anything that would in any way jeopardise the future. Not that it was particularly bright to begin with. Yes, she'd gone through his late father's belongings and nicked a bunch of confidential papers from the hidden compartment in his table. And broken a possibly very old and very expensive monocle. Fine, so anyway, bottom line was: Marlene was in dire need of an extraction plan. Preferably before Arthur discovered any of it.
She almost made it to the staircase when she heard a sniffle. Marley stopped and turned to the door to her right, brow furrowed. Another sniffle came, followed by a sob. Was someone...crying in there? Nope, not her business. Marlene nodded to further reassure herself it was the right decision and resumed walking. Another sob. She stopped again, grimacing. What if the person needed help? Then again, it was a funeral. There were plenty of people here who needed a pep talk about the inevitability of death, which by the way, Marlene would be the best person to give. So if there was a perfect place for crying, that would certainly be it. But what if it was something else?
Oh, goddamnit. Marlene heaved out a self-loathing sigh and rapped her knuckles gently against the door, "Hey, is everything okay in there?" The person stopped mid-sniffle. It got awfully quiet. Marley frowned and knocked again, "Hello — "
She stumbled away from the door when it was suddenly opened. A pair of red-rimmed hazel eyes were staring back at Marlene in quiet alarm. She gawked back, stumped. "Yes?" Sofia asked with a perfectly blasé smile. Behind her was a small and, notably, empty bathroom.
"I'm sorry, I was just — I heard you and, uh," Marlene sighed, giving up, "Are you okay?" She couldn't believe she'd just asked that. God, could that day become any weirder?
Sofia's smile didn't waver, "I'm fine."
"Right," Marley nodded, not even trying to look convinced. Well, her job was done, right? Make an effort, be considerate and that sort of jazz. How did one console their late-mother-come-alive anyway? Marlene could barely talk to her as it was — the strange woman from the photographs in their house. She might as well have been a photoshopped stock-picture model for all that Marlene knew about her. No parents, raised by her grandmother, went to Yale, studied history, taught history, loved noir movies and, for some reason, her father. A bunch of bullet-points for the essay Marlene had procrastinated over her entire life. And now there she was, very much alive and here and very possibly having a meltdown —
"Are you alright?" Sofia asked.
Marlene blinked and tilted her head quizzically. She was finding it hard to concentrate. Get it together, you moron. She cleared her throat, "Me? I'm great. Sad —" she stressed, remembering the unfortunate circumstances, "— obviously, but otherwise alright. And you? How — how are...you?" Oh my god.
Sofia's eyes narrowed ever so slightly. She probably thought Marlene was insane. "Could be better," she replied after a moment, "I've been hiding in here. Avoiding my fiancé's mother." Marley's brows lifted at the sudden development. Sofia winced, "I probably shouldn't have told you that — Lucy, right?"
"Huh? Oh. Yes," Marlene nodded, "And don't worry, I'm not gonna say anything. I don't even know anyone here."
"Neither do I!" Sofia confessed in an ardent whisper. She went over to the sink and leaned against it. Did that mean Marlene should walk in or?... "God, I should've listened to Arthur and just stayed away."
Sensing a prime opportunity to pry, Marley walked into the bathroom and gently closed the door behind her. Her escape could wait a moment, "Don't get along with the family, huh?"
Sofia huffed out a wry little laugh, "You could say that. They didn't exactly...approve of the match. It was a whole thing," she shook her head at the years of bad memories. It all was starting to make sense now. It was around that time that Arthur'd stopped talking to his father.
"I'm sorry." It was all Marlene had to offer. She'd never realised how hard it had been on Sofia — to have been caught up in the millennia-long family drama. Did she know anything about it? Had Arthur told her about the curse? Had she known what she was walking into?
"I mean, Arthur did warn me," Sofia continued, caught up in her own thoughts, "I just — I hoped that today would be different, but..." she tapered off with a shrug, "Guess he was right. Again." Marlene couldn't help a snort. She certainly understood the sentiment, "And I don't even care that they don't like me, you know? It's Arthur I'm worried about."
Marley looked at her with confusion, "What do you mean?"
"I don't want to ruin his relationship with his family," Sofia said quietly, "It's tearing him apart — I can tell, and...we're constantly fighting about it — " she broke off with an exasperated sigh, "That's why I'm in here."
Marlene felt widely out of her depth here, which reflected perfectly in the stumped expression on her face. Dealing with angels, demons and all manner of supernatural creatures seemed significantly more manageable than giving relationship advice to her late mother.
"You...had a fight just now?"
Sofia nodded, her eyes welling up with tears again. Oh, no, none of that, come on. Marlene's entire chest tightened at the sight, heart nearly sinking down to her very feet. Should she give her a hug? No, that would probably be too weird. Crap, she wanted to cry herself. Damned empathy.
Be professional, stupid. Marlene took a deep breath to suppress the annoying urge to burst into tears. Much better. Alright, so that at least explained why Arthur was suddenly lurking around the house — he was looking for his fiancé after she'd run off in tears. And instead he'd stumbled upon Marlene. How very lucky for her.
"God, I'm so sorry for telling you all this," Sofia breathed a teary laugh, shaking her head, "You must think I'm crazy."
Marlene's lips quirked into a rueful smile, "Believe me, I've seen my fair share of crazy. You're good."
After a small, deliberating pause, she went on, "...and as for your fiancé..." A slight crease formed between her eyebrows as Marley thought back to her silver-haired father who'd spent her entire childhood grieving the woman in front of her. At times, Marlene had even resented her. For the hold she had over Arthur. For all the suffering she'd caused them. Both of them, without even realising it. She'd never stopped to think about all the suffering Sofia'd had to endure herself. "It takes a lot to stand up to family. Trust me I...I would know."
Sofia's brows furrowed in curiosity. Good thing she would never know what Marlene was referring to.
"You shouldn't feel guilty for Arthur choosing you. I'm pretty sure that's the best choice he's ever going to make. Right now, thought, he probably needs all the support he can get. It's the most important fight in his entire life and you're the only one cheering in his corner, Sofia, so...make it loud."
Sofia seemed somewhat abashed by Marlene's words, a self-conscious smile on her lips, "You sound awfully sure of that."
"Come on, he loves you enough to give up this bathroom," Marlene stated matter-of-factly, glancing at the marble bath, "This right there is a one-in-a-lifetime kind of love. He's lucky to have found it, both of you are. So just..." she tried to keep the tremble from her voice, but there was a strain to it that threatened tears, "Enjoy it. For — for however long it lasts."
Sofia's eyes widened imperceptibly, her face going still for a split second. It seemed like she'd had a momentous revelation, an instant of clarity through time and space itself. Marlene frowned — was it possible that Sofia knew?...
But before she could have the answer, her ears were all at once filled by a loud ringing sound. Marlene'd felt it once before. When she'd first heard Castiel's name spoken by an ethereal voice right in her head. All that time later, and she still couldn't attune herself to the angelic frequency — it felt like her head would explode from the thumping, crashing pressure in her skull —
"Lucy?" Sofia sounded concerned.
— Uriel, I call...for...
The voice was cut off by the white racket again. Marlene winced, brining a hand to her right temple to ease the pain.
"Lucy, are you alright?"
— ...need of your help, brother...as —
— ...of mine.
"Lucy?" Sofia's voice was urgent now.
Crouched over the sink, Marlene replied, as nonchalant as possible, "I...I'm — I'm fine..."
— meet with me as soon as you are able."
The din was gone all at once. And so was the pressure squeezing Marlene's head like it was a freaking walnut in the Nutcracker.
"Oh my God, Lucy, you're bleeding!" Sofia gasped and went to get a towel from the rack, "Here —" Marlene grabbed it and put the soft cotton to her hot face. The crimson trails running from her nostrils seeped into the plush white fabric in an instance. Well, that stain would be a bitch to get out.
She tilted her head back and pressed a bit harder to stop the bleeding. It was a well-rehearsed process at that point, a dance Marlene had learned to stumble through over the year.
"What was that?" Sofia was watching her, eyes round with worry.
"A bad migraine," she replied absently. It had been Anna — the voice, the...the — She was calling to someone. Uriel. An angelic name if she'd ever heard one. But why had Marlene heard the call at all? And why had Anna even called for reinforcements? Unless...Oh, crap.
"Hold on, what — what are you doing?" Sofia asked when she suddenly dropped the towel and headed for the door.
Marlene turned back, "I...I have to leave," she explained contritely, edging to the exit, "Someone needs me. I — I'm sorry..."
"Are you sure you're fine? That nosebleed looked pretty gnarly..."
"Totally. It happens, like, all the time. Week blood vessels or some such thing," Marley waved off and opened the door.
Sofia looked unconvinced, but didn't press further. A grateful smile appeared on her tear-stained face, "Thank you, by the way. For the pep talk. No one better than an absolute stranger to help you get your shit together, right?"
An absolute stranger. Marlene supposed that's what they were to each other at the end of the day. Two complete strangers bound by nothing but blood — and there were many things much thicker than that. Perhaps, they could've been more in a better world. Mother and daughter, with shared memories and inside jokes and trips to the shopping mall where Marley'd throw tantrums in the fitting room. But the reality was bitterly different.
"No problem," Marlene smiled, blinking away her tears, "It was really nice meeting you, Sofia."
"You too, Lucy. Take care."
With a last look at her mother, she walked out the door and closed it behind her. Marlene remained standing outside the bathroom for a few moments before finally taking a deep, calming breath and heading towards the stairs.
"Sorry, sorry — so sorry, " Marlene muttered as she elbowed her way through the hall. Was it just her or had the number of people actually doubled since her impromptu trip upstairs? Whatever the case, Marley needed to get out of that house as soon as possible. If Anna was calling for support, she'd most likely found the Winchesters, and since Marlene already knew the psychotic angel was in Lawrence — the location was embedded within the message — it was a matter of time before she got to them, accompanied by another angel or, perhaps, even an entire freaking legion.
Finally, Marlene got to the foyer. It looked delightfully deserted, like a biblical promised land where she would finally find her peace. Yeah, right. Marley instantly caught the eye of the butler, who glanced her way with quiet distaste before opening the door. She felt immensely pleased knowing that she'd stolen secret documents from her grandfather's study right under the old sentry's hooked nose.
Marley threw him a sideways glower, "Peace out, Alfred," she saluted and got the hell out of her family house.
𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐
"Castiel? Castiel!" Marlene screamed out, eyes cast to the sky. Wafts of purple and orange ribboned through the slowly dimming blue; the day was coming to an end. If anyone looked out their window, they would've probably thought Marlene'd come straight from Woodstock, "Castiel, if you hear me, just — just copy, please? I think Dean and Sam are in way more danger that we thought."
Marley was stuck in this swanky neighbourhood, with no means to get out but the measly one dollar which wasn't much, even by the 70s standards, and still pretty low on fuel. How on earth was she supposed to get to Kansas? A pair of magical shoes?
She sighed and braced herself for another bout of pleading, "Castiel, if you hear my voice, just give me something. Please, I need to know you're okay and we're not completely screwed," there was a crack in her voice at the sudden realisation that he might've not survived the trip. The socially-inept friendly neighbourhood angel in a trench coat who'd made all the right choices despite his very nature, gone. The thought made her throat uncomfortably tight, "Cas? Do you copy?"
A beat of heavy silence later, a voice inside her head replied, "I...copy." It was faint. Barely even a whisper. But it was enough for a teary smile to break out on Marlene's face.
"Oh, thank Go — goodness, you're alive! Where are you? Are you okay? Are Sam and Dean with you? Did you see Anna?" she bombarded him with questions. Castiel went quiet again, "Hey, Cas?"
"I am weak. It is...hard."
Marlene raked a hand through her hair. She tried to stay calm despite the panic ripping through her body in trembles. Thoughts swarmed her head like nagging pests. Was it the trip? Had Anna caught up with them? Were Sam and Dean okay? "Just —" she cut herself off with a sigh, "— just tell me where you are, okay? I'm going to come find you." Even though she had no idea how or even if she could pull it off on her own and after losing so much energy. The only other time Marlene'd zapped alone had nearly killed her — not the best track record. But that was before the ritual.
"Cas? Where are you? Cas?" she urged when the angel'd gone silent again, "Goddamit!" She needed to get out of there, fast.
But how? She cleared her throat. What's next? Dream of a place you want to get to? She'd never been in Lawrence. Hell, she'd never even set foot in Kansas.
Back in Gabriel's illusion, Marlene hadn't had to concentrate, she hadn't even known what she was doing. It had been her emotions that'd triggered the power, the rampant desire, the need to get herself out of that blasted studio with no particular destination in mind. Now, though...now Marlene needed to zero in on a certain place. A certain person.
"Alright, so we're doing this. Great," Marlene mumbled nervously, "No pressure..." She flexed her fingers, then stretched her legs like an Olympian preparing for a leap. Closed her eyes. Took a deep breath. Held it for a moment, then slowly let it out. Before their journey to the past — literally, a few minutes before the jump, Castiel had given Marlene the fastest crash course on time travelling a person should ever have before, well, time travelling. Marley'd undoubtedly missed quite a lot of important nuances, but the main takeaway was that your head needed to be cleared of all but the intent to be. Someplace, sometime, someone — you had to see, to imagine and feel. And since Marlene had no idea where exactly in Lawrence Castiel was, she tried to instead concentrate on his wane voice still echoing in her head; on the little energy it encompassed.
Come on, help me out here, Cas. I've got no idea what I'm doing. It wasn't an exaggeration. Marlene was feeling like one of those fortune tellers at fairs that wriggled their fingers mysteriously around a crystal sphere and called it magic.
As if hearing her plea, the angel reached out again. This time, however, he was too weak to speak. Castiel sent her an image instead, although Marlene couldn't quite see it. It was blurry, barely intelligible, only...only somehow, she knew exactly where it was. The closer she reached for it, the clearer the shapes were becoming, and soon Marlene was able to make out an outline of a room: relatively small and extremely pink. A...motel room? It looked like a Hallmark shop on Valentine's Day where a cupid threw up. The smell, though, was too pungent for a place like that. Almost coppery...wait, the smell?
Marlene did a double take. It took her a ridiculous amount of time to realise that her feet were planted firmly on a carpet. She glanced down — sure enough, no muddy grass. Frowning, Marlene decided to test the authenticity of her surroundings and planted her entire palm on the nearby wall like a stoner on a trip. Caressed it. Her eyes bulged out. It was real.
"Holy shit, it worked," she whispered, still caressing the disgusting surface. Marlene drew her hand back from the sticky wall with a mildly repulsed expression. Too much authenticity.
She turned around and swept her eyes over the room to inspect the rest of its winning decor. That's when she spotted the isle of love — there was no better way to call the heart-shaped bed in the far end. Marlene would've come up with a dozen jokes on the subject or at least cracked up at the hilarity of it, but all mirth left her when she saw the bloodied mess on the red satin sheets.
"Cas!" she gasped and ran over to the bed. The angel lay on the covers, unmoving, his usually neat beige trench coat soaked with blood. "Castiel?" Marlene called quietly. The angel didn't budge, "Come on, you gotta wake up, alright? We all need you, Cas, you can't go vegetable on us." His face looked frighteningly serene, and for a moment Marlene thought she'd been too late. Only when Castiel's eyelids fluttered did she relax, still anxiously running her eyes over him. God, he looked a mess. He'd been weakened by the locator spell and then the journey...Dean'd been wrong to push him like that —
"Vegetable?..."
A beat of silence. Then laughter broke out, "You're alive," Marlene sighed in relief.
"You are as well," Castiel said plainly. He was still too weak to push himself up, but his eyes were almost fully open, watching her closely, "You have blood on your face."
Marlene's hand instantly shot up to her nose. Crap. "I get nosebleeds all the time, it's nothing," she quickly wiped it off with the back of her hand and lowered herself down on the bed next to the angel. He was too out of it to be properly suspicious, "What happened, Cas?" Marlene peered at his bloodied face, searching, "Where are Sam and Dean?"
"The journey — it...nearly killed me," Castiel explained, voice still weak, "They brought me to this abode so that I could replenish my strength...I have no memory of what happened after. " His brows furrowed in thought, "Where were you?"
"Sightseeing," Marlene replied nonchalantly, "So you haven't seen them?" The angel shook his head, apologetic. She gave a curt, composed nod, though her chest was bubbling with apprehension.
It hadn't escaped Castiel's notice, even in his current state, "Something is wrong."
"I think I...I think I heard her. Anna," Marlene spoke tentatively, "Over the angel radio?" Castiel pushed himself upright in attention. He appeared strangely thoughtful all of a sudden, as if trying to dig up a long-buried memory, "I don't even know how it happened or if it was real. I mean, it could've been a trap — "
"I think I heard it as well," Castiel interrupted, much more lucid that he'd been when she'd arrived.
Marlene's eyebrows lifted, "You did?"
"I imagine that's what roused me from my slumber," he surmised pensively, "Angels aren't allowed down on earth. Not in this this time, that is why you could so easily hear her call. It is but me, Anna and — " Castiel broke off, his frown deepening.
"Castiel? What is it?"
"She is gone," he said dazedly.
"Anna? How...what — are you sure?"
Castiel turned to her, almost entranced by something widely out of her perception. He looked deeply concentrated, "It's Michael. He is here."
Marlene's eyes widened a fraction, "The archangel?" Castiel didn't reply, too engrossed in whatever angelic frequency he'd caught. Marley, however, was getting frantic, "Cas? What's happening? Are they okay? What —"
"We must return," the angel announced abruptly, "Remaining here is too perilous."
Marlene stared at him, hoping that it'd been a joke. But he seemed pretty resolute in his sudden decision. "Leave? And what, just bail on Sam and Dean? Is that what you're saying?"
"Michael will take care of them."
"Yes, he will!" she yelled, "That's exactly the problem! How out of it are you, Cas?"
The angel held a pause to let Marlene cool off, perfectly unfazed by her wild temper, "Marlene," he said calmly, "Michael will never let any harm befall Dean. He needs him."
That sobered her up a bit. It did make sense — Dean was the archangels's long-coveted vessel. He would do anything to keep it intact for his own agenda, "But what — what about Sam? He doesn't need him, he... "
"He knows that if he hurt Sam...he'd lose any chance of swaying Dean," Castiel explained, voice strained. Marlene noticed a thin veil of perspiration had appeared on his wan face. She winced. He was still too weak to travel back.
"Alright," Marlene said with a sigh and stood up, "Then we leave."
Castiel appeared pleased with her decision. He sat up straighter, though with much difficulty, "Yes. Hold on to me — "
"Oh, no way," Marlene told him, "You're gonna drop dead half-way to the 2000s. I'll do it."
"No."
She stared him down stubbornly, "I helped us get here."
"Your power is fickle, Marlene."
"Not anymore — "
"Whatever solution those...those sorcerers you spoke of offered — it hasn't healed you," Castiel reasoned, looking her straight in the eye, "I can still feel it."
Marlene already knew it. She had felt it herself. There was a limit to her power, and when that limit was breached, it took back. In full. "Well, clearly, your spidey-senses are way off, because I'm doing great," she told him smugly, "So hop on on the magic carpet, Jasmine. We're going back to the future."
Castiel let out a heavy sigh. He was losing this battle, "It is dangerous. You could die."
"And you are going to die," Marlene said forcefully, "So I'm willing to take my chances. Plus, you said it yourself, Cas — we must return. We don't know who else Anna's reached out to. And neither of us is fit to smite a heavenly battalion." He didn't say anything. Marlene took it as a sign of capitulation, "Can you stand?"
A moment of futile struggle. Overtaken by pity at his helplessness, Marley hurried to help, "Come on, throw your arm around my neck — okay, hold on, I'm gonna — Jesus, —" Marlene plumped down on the bed again. God, what were angels made of? She peeled Castiel's limp body away from the pillow, dragging him upwards into a more or less sitting position. Phew, "You good?" she breathed, already exhausted.
"No," was his bluntly honest reply. Marlene looked at him side-ways. Okay then.
Once Castiel managed to fully sit up on the bed, it was time for the toughest part. It was probably fate mocking Marley for refusing to work out all these years. If she'd gone to the gym at least two times a week, this wouldn't be happening.
"Ready when you are," she said, voice trembling with nerves.
Castiel gave a weak nod, "I am ready."
His arm swung over her neck, Marlene took a deep, bracing breath and lifted them up. The extra weight made her knees wobbly, but with Castiel's assistance, she managed to not tumble down, "Okay," Marlene said carefully. She was too afraid to move lest she lost balance again, "Okay, we're up."
But the euphoria was short lived. Castiel was getting weaker, his body growing heavier and putting more strain on Marlene's tiny form. Alright, she breathed in and out, 2009. November 29th. A motel room in Wichita, Kansas.
There was a strange tingling sensation in her chest, not unlike the one she'd had at that gas station in Ohio. Only back then it had filled her with a pleasant warmth, while the current feeling was more... burning. Scorching, even. But Marlene went on, pushing the pain away. Someone'd said that pain was a fact, but hurt was a choice. And she was choosing to get them home.
Wichita, 2009. Motel room that smells like cheap cigarettes and a pine car freshener —
Her stream of thoughts was interrupted by a pinch of pain. Marlene brushed it off with a slight wince.
— Unmade beds, sticky table with empty take-out bags and disassembled guns ready to be cleaned —
The fire shot through her like a blazing phoenix and exploded into ashes. Marlene tightened her grip on Castiel's arm before they were sucked into a whirlwind of time and space that spat them out a moment later. Much worse for wear.
They landed in the middle of another room, Marlene dazed from the trip and Castiel half-unconscious. She was staring at someone's broad back — a man wearing a green flannel shirt. He caught her hazel eyes in the mirror. His went completely wide, "Marlene? Cas?" Sam whipped around just in time to catch her and take hold of Castiel before he fell down, "Hey. Hey, hey. Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa."
Dean darted towards them and helped to hold Castiel up, "You son of a bitch. You made it," he said in disbelief. The weight now off of her, Marlene stumbled back, her entire body shaking. What had that been?
Castiel looked between Dean and Sam, delirious, "It wasn't...wasn't me," he mumbled and collapsed, sagging in their arms.
"Whoa!" Sam gasped, "You're okay..."
Dean glanced over at him, "Bed?"
"Yeah, yeah."
They hauled Castiel to the nearest bed and laid him on it, then sighed in unison from the exertion. Marlene didn't feel quite as bad about her physique now. Though she was certainly feeling unwell. She didn't need to touch her face to know that she was bleeding again. Three times in one day was a solid record.
"Marlene?" A voice called. Where was it coming from? Seemed like from very far away, "Hey — "
She tried to walk, but the spinning in her head made her falter. "Christ," someone hissed, and grabbed her moments before the fall, "Everyone just forgot how to stand now?"
Dean helped her sit down on the other bed and exchanged a silent, concerned look with Sam. The younger brother went over to the sink and poured a Marlene a glass of water.
"What happened?" Dean asked, towering before her.
Marlene reached for the glass with a trembling hand and took a sip. The chill felt nice. Her head didn't feel as muddled as before, "Cas couldn't make the trip. So I jumped behind the wheel."
"U-huh," Dean said flatly, narrowing his eyes at her, "So, tell me...do you have a death wish or are you just really bad at making sound decisions?"
Sam shot him a look, "Come on, man."
"What? She almost died. And dragged him — " Dean pointed a furious finger at the comatose angel, "— with her." Marlene set the glass down with much more force that was needed, "Whatever hoodoo number those witches did on her — "
"Oh, shut up, Dean!" she exploded, head still thumping with pain from the aftermath of the trip.
Dean blinked at her, temper rising, "Excuse me?" Sam ran an exhausted hand over his face, bracing for the worst.
"Cas told you it would weaken him. He told you he would take care of it alone, but no — you just couldn't take the bench the one time, could you? And now you blame me for getting us out of the mess that you had created?" Marlene questioned incredulously. She glowered at Dean and he glowered right back. But Marlene found no menace in his eyes, no true anger. He was genuinely worried, and the realisation did well to mellow her rage.
She sighed, properly drained, "I get it, it was your mom and dad, you couldn't stay away," she said quietly, looking between Dean and Sam, "But please, Dean, show some gratitude. Castiel didn't have to risk his life today — but he did, because he cares about you guys. So just — " she cut herself off with a shrug, "— just don't be a dick, okay?"
Dean kept staring at her, but his irritation was half-hearted at best. Sam caught on to his brother's mood swing pretty fast, cracking a small smile. Marlene quirked a brow at Dean as an offering of peace. He didn't budge, but laid off a moment later, rolling his eyes. "You're on thin ice, kid," he pointed a threatening finger at her.
"That's all I wanted to hear," Marley smirked, "So, I assume everything went well with your parents? Since you're still here and all," she looked at Sam. He pursed his lips, dimples making a grand appearance, and went over to the table to get a...drink? Marlene turned to Dean with a troubled frown, "It did go well, right?"
"Yeah," Dean muttered, "It went real well."
"Whiskey, anyone?" Sam returned, holding up the bottle.
"Well, I could sure use a drink right now," Dean grumbled.
𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐𖤐
Dean took the bottle from Sam to pour three glasses. Marlene immediately guzzled down half of hers. The brothers gave her similar looks of shock, "What? I've had a tough day too. Traveled back in time, met the family, saved my parents' marriage — "
Sam choked on his drink, "What?"
"What do you mean 'met the family'?"
"I was dumped in a different place —"
"Yeah, we figured," Dean said dryly, "Wondering how that happened."
"— and that place happened to be Hartford. So, naturally, I went to my family's house —" Marlene mumbled into her glass.
"Naturally," Dean deadpanned.
"— and visited my grandpa's wake."
Sam gawked at her, shocked, "A wake?"
"Anyway, it's a long story," Marlene finished with a sigh, "But one with a happy ending. I mean, sort of. My grandfather died, so..." she trailed off and took a sip of the bitter drink. Then her eyes widened, "Oh!" Dean's brows shot up when Marlene suddenly dug under her shirt. Sam cast him a glare. Dean cleared his throat and looked away, "Bingo!"
"What are these?" Sam asked, staring at the folded papers in her hand.
Marlene's smile was positively mischievous. He liked that look on her a little too much, "I stole them from the secret compartment in my grandfather's study."
"You stole what from where now?" Dean asked.
"The papers. My grandfather kept them hidden away. I think they could actually be helpful in cracking my family's curious curse case. Wow," Marlene breathed in amazement, "That was one hell of an alliteration right there."
"Curb your nerd boner, Shakespeare," Dean told her, unimpressed, "So you're saying this stack of papers might help you with your..." he waved his hand around her in a very vague gesture.
Marlene shrugged, "I mean, probably? I don't know. It's something, at least," she finished off her drink to ease the weight of responsibility that'd been suddenly placed upon her shoulders. She was in line to inherit the curse and every damn trouble that came with it — it was up to her to either break it or...be the last to bear the burden. Do that which Arthur had failed to — end the Ter-Gabrielyan line once and for all.
"So, this is it, huh," Dean chuckled wryly.
Sam cast him a confused glance, "This is what?" he took a sip of his drink.
"Team Free Will. One ex-blood junkie, one dropout with six bucks to his name, Sabrina the Teenage Witch and..." Dean turned to Castiel who was still blacked out on the bed, "...Mr. Comatose over there. It's awesome."
"It's not funny," Sam muttered, an ominous shadow cast over his face.
Dean took a drink, "I'm not laughing."
Marlene grabbed the bottle from the table and refilled her glass. No one said a single word about it, "So, what's the plan now?"
Sam sighed, "Well...They all say we'll say yes."
"And it's getting annoying," Dean agreed.
"Who cares what they say? At the end of the day, the choice is your alone. They can't make you do shit."
"Can't they?" Sam questioned, his voice tinged with desperation and self-doubt, "What if they're right?"
"Sam, don't say that — "
"They're not," Dean told him.
"I mean, why...why would we, either of us? —" Sam broke off, hesitant, "— But...I've been weak before —"
Dean closed his eyes for a moment, "Sam..."
"Michael got Dad to say yes."
Marlene stilled then, sensing an entirely foreign territory.
"That was different," Dean said. Sam didn't appear convinced, "Anna was about to kill Mom."
"And if you could save Mom?" Sam asked, grey eyes searching, "What would you say?
Dean didn't have an answer to that. Or he did, but it wasn't an answer any of them wanted to hear. That no matter how strong you were or how unwavering, there was always a price. As long as you had someone more important to you than yourself, you were never truly free. Or safe.