Don't Pull This Thread - Part 7 of 8

Summary: It's time for Lexie to go it alone, and the only way she knows how is to break Sam's heart.

Warnings: angst, smut, more angst, Dean being a good big bro, heartbreak.

W/C: 7.8k.

Notes: switches between Sam and OC POV. Canon divergent.

Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, OFC, Jo Harvelle, Ellen Harvelle, other needed OC's.

Pairing: Sam x OFC (they get it ooooon).

Lexie POV

We've been on the road for four hours with Dean driving, Sam riding shotgun, and me in the backseat behind Dean. I have my headphones in, but nothing is playing. I can't listen to the music I like because it will forever remind me of the events that happened. I needed to block everything out, or at least make myself believe that's what I'm doing, so Sam doesn't try to talk to me. His forlorn glances in the rear-view mirror got too much for me to handle, so I closed my eyes and pretended to sleep.

I patched Sam's shoulder up; it took seventeen stitches, and all he did was stare at the mark Zak left on me. Thankfully, my leg didn't need stitching, so we left as soon as we were packed.

We didn't have a destination when we got in the car, but Dean, on autopilot, is heading toward Bobby's. It's the closest thing any of us has to a home; it's a place we can retreat, regroup and think of our next move.

Although I already know what the next move is. I know what I have to do.

I've kept my emotions contained until now, but it's crushing me. Sam must have noticed the tears that roll down my face because I hear him call for Dean, and then the surface of the road under the tires changes, and we've stopped at the side of the road.

I can't open my eyes, Sam will be looking at me, and the weight of his mournful regard will bring the storm in me to the surface. The leather of the Impala's seats squelches as Sam leans over and pulls my headphones from my ears.

I open my eyes, and sure enough, they're both twisted in their seats, staring at me expectantly. I lock eyes with Sam and tell him softly, "It's time to keep my promise and say a real goodbye."

"No." His head shakes in denial, and it's heartbreaking. "No, it's not time, no."

Sam fixes his gaze on me as the tears continue to flow. He throws the door open and gets out angrily. Dean isn't angry, he understands, and his eyes tell me as much; he knows I'm right. We both get out of the car, Sam is a few feet away, running his hands through his hair, and he lets out a frustrated groan as the movement aggravates the wound in his shoulder.

"Sam, it's time," I tell his back. "I need to find a way to break the binding spell. I need to retrace Zak's steps from the moment he was turned and find the witch that cast it. I need to focus, I can't be on the road with you guys and do that, and you can't quit hunting to help me."

Sam spins on his feet and hastily strides toward me, "like hell I can't!" The venom in his voice scares me a little. "Lexie, we can…" he starts but his voice breaks, and he loses his words as he chokes down a sob.

"You only made me come along to keep me safe. Well, I'm safe." I state, trying to reason with him. "Zak can't kill me without killing himself. So it's time to let me go. You have to let me go. Please."

Sam tries to find the words but can't.

"Sammy," Dean interrupts softly, "she's right. She needs to focus on breaking the binding spell or finding out if it's even real. We need to focus on the job."

Sam's tears spill over, and he toes at the dirt beneath his feet. I have to ball my hands and dig my nails in my palms to stop myself from hugging him. If I allow myself to hug him, I'll lose my composure.

I tell Sam my plan; if he believes I've thought it through, maybe it will be easier on him. "Bobby agreed to let me stay with him for a while until I have something to go on. It will take a whole lot of time and research to figure out if breaking it is even possible. To make a plan that doesn't involve me eating a bullet."

Sam's eyes snap up, a fierce expression making his eyes almost black, "don't say that."

"I'd be lying if I said it hadn't crossed my mind," I admit. "I'm playing Zak's game, but I'm playing to win. No shortcuts, remember, I promised." Sam stares pointedly at me; he knows I've made up my mind, and there is no changing it. I hold his eyes, silently begging for him to understand. "I need you to be okay with this, Sam."

Sam nods, his nostrils flaring as he tries to rein in his emotions. "You promised," he reminds me.

"I promised not to run off without telling you. I'm not running. I'm asking you to leave me behind."

His breath croaks out, and the tears fall from his eyes as he chews his lip. It looks like he wants to argue, but instead, he sighs. "Okay, but we're taking you to Bobby's."

I nod and smile, trying to give my best 'well duh' expression before he pulls me into his arms.

I sit on the hood of my favorite rusty Jeep in Bobby's salvage yard, reading a book about witchcraft, a notepad and pen next to me with a few scribbled notes I need to look into later.

The enclosed space of the house got to be too much, Sam is walking on eggshells around me, and I'm afraid that the longer he's around, I will lose my resolve and ask him to stay with me.

The crunch of boots on gravel alerts me to someone approaching, and I look up to see Dean strolling toward me with a bottle of beer in each hand. "We're heading out soon; wanted to say goodbye," he says, passing me a beer.

I take a long pull on the bubbly liquid, sighing contentedly as the cold travels down my throat. "Sam found a case then?"

Dean nods, leaning on the hood beside me, "when does Sam not find a case?"

"So get this," I mock Sam's excitable voice.

We laugh together, and I like the sound of it. He clinks the neck of his bottle against mine. "That's pretty good."

The laughter dies down naturally. "Can I ask you something?" he asks after swallowing a swig of his beer. "Without the threat of being stabbed with a pen?"

I hum suspiciously, "depends on the question."

"Are you going to let us leave without telling Sam how you really feel?" he asks, turning to look at me, leaning his hip against the car.

My breath hitches in my throat, so Dean has seen it. The fleeting glances, the flirty banter, and the lingering touches haven't gone unnoticed. "It's complicated."

He continues with a knowing twitch of his lips. "Isn't life complicated, sweetheart?"

"Whatever I feel, and I'm not confirming nor denying anything," I say with a playful tug on my mouth. "Is just putting Sam in danger."

"He's always in danger. It's kind of his job description."

"I know," I exhale a shaky breath, trying to keep my emotions in check. "But your brother has a hole in his shoulder because of me. I did something that I should never have had to do but would do it again in less than a fucking heartbeat to save him. To save you both."

Dean thumbs a tear off my cheek, and there's a slight grimace on his face.

"I'm not willing to put either of you at risk." I explain, "I'm not sure I'm making it out of this thing in one piece."

He gives me a warning look; he doesn't like me talking like this. Just like I wouldn't want to hear him say the same. "Lex-"

I hold my hands up in defeat. "I'm not throwing in the towel. I promise. But we both know it's a distinct possibility I'm going out in a blaze of glory," I continue, shrugging my shoulders. "Being with Sam only to make him lose me, lose someone else he cares about, is the most selfish thing I can think of, and I won't do it to him."

"Thank you, Lex," and the gratitude in his tone is palpable. "Thank you for putting him first."

Tears spring to my eyes at his understanding; I know he will help Sam understand it too. I jump down from the car so that I can hug the elder Winchester properly. "Thank you, Dean. For everything."

He hugs me tightly. "Promise me you won't do anything stupid or reckless, that you'll call me before you do anything."

"I promise," I say, pulling away and kissing his cheek. "And if I do make it out alive, I'm coming to kidnap your brother."

"Sweetheart, just give me a call, and I'll wrap and deliver him to you with a bow!"

"I'm holding you to that," I grin.

He starts toward the house. I'm really going to miss him, even having petty squabbles with him. "Lexie," Dean calls, turning to face me walking backward, "there'll always be a seat in the Impala for you."

I hold my beer up in an air toast, and Dean does the same before turning away again.

Sam POV

Dean wanted to leave twenty minutes ago. He told me Lexie is outside in her usual spot on the Jeep, and I walked out here to say goodbye to her. As soon as I saw her, I stopped and ducked behind a wall of crushed cars, peeking out at her like some crazy stalker.

She's lying back on the windshield, knees up, reading a book. Her brow is knitted in concentration, and she's chewing the top of her pen. I've seen that look a hundred times; it's the face she wears when she's really fascinated with something, her interest has been piqued, and she can't absorb the information fast enough.

"Dude!" Dean's voice startles me, "What are you-" he stops when I pull him behind the wall of cars with me.

I put my back to him, spinning back in Lexie's direction to make sure she didn't see him. She hasn't moved.

"You haven't said goodbye, have you?" Dean's question is rhetorical. He knows I haven't; otherwise, why would I be spying on her through crushed metal.

I sigh sadly, shaking my head and facing my brother, "I can't."

Dean purses his lips, offering, "we can stay."

"No, she'd hate me for it."

She wouldn't ever forgive me for staying and not helping other people.

"So go say goodbye to her."

"I can't. I'll say something I shouldn't." I confess pessimistically, "I'll break a promise to her, and it will just make all of this harder."

I start toward the car, and he follows, telling me not to do something I'll regret later. But he doesn't know that if I say goodbye to her, I'll kiss her and I'll regret it because I don't want to kiss her goodbye. I want to kiss her every morning; I want to kiss her when I catch her eye and when I get back from a hunt. Kiss her breathless to show how much I missed her, steal a kiss while we're watching a movie, kiss her concentration away while we're researching, or in the back of the Impala, I want to kiss her in every way, shape, and form I can think of, except to say goodbye.

We've been on the road for almost two hours when Lexie calls me, a photo of the two of us doing cross-eyes and sticking our tongues out flashing at me as it rings. I allow myself to have a small chuckle; I knew she was really engrossed in that book.

I ask Dean to pull over; I don't need him to hear the earful of abuse she will give me. The phone stops ringing by the time Dean pulls the car off the road, but the screen hasn't even faded to black before she rings again, and I click answer as I step out.

I sigh a hello trying to prepare myself.

"You left without saying goodbye." She doesn't sound upset or hurt; she sounds understanding, maybe even a little grateful.

"You asked me not to pull the thread, remember." I confess, "I wasn't sure I could say goodbye without unraveling the whole damn thing." She's quiet for so long I think she may have hung up. "Lexie?"

"I'm here."

"I need you to take care of yourself. I need you to promise me that."

"You know, I've been thinking about taking up running."

I smile sarcastically, and it seeps into my voice, "Really? You, running?"

"Yeah, someone told me it helps clear their head for the day. I thought I might try it."

"They sound like a very smart person."

"They have their moments."

"Okay, I'll make you a deal. Every morning you get up and run, I want you to take a picture of the sky—the sun, the clouds, the moon if it's still out, and send it to me. I'll do the same." I plot, "that way, we'll both know the other is okay, that we're out there, under the same sky."

"Deal."

Silence finds us again. "Sam," she whispers my name, and I know it's because she doesn't want me to hear her cry.

"Hmm"

"Tell me I'm doing the right thing."

I suck in a sharp breath because she's asking me to lie to her. "You're doing the right thing. We're doing the right thing. This will all work out, and until then, we're better off apart."

She puffs out a laugh, "liar."

I laugh too, and after a beat, I tell her, "just so you know, when I see you again, I'm not making any more promises."

I can hear the smile in her voice, "when I see you again, I won't ask you to make any more promises."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

We listen to the other breathing for a minute, then Lexie sighs out, "Goodbye, dork."

"Bye, nerd."

Lexie POV

A few months later.

I sit in my car in the back of the parking lot at The Roadhouse, staring blindly at the 1967 Chevrolet Impala. There's no doubt it's Dean's. Even if I didn't recognize the plate number, it's too spotlessly clean and shiny to belong to anyone other than Dean Winchester.

I asked Ellen to call Dean and ask him and Sam to come to The Roadhouse. I needed to see them, not talk to them; I just needed to see them with my own eyes. The day I arrived at The Roadhouse, I had received a head in a box. It was Sam, Sam's head in a box. Ellen immediately called Dean, and he assured her Sam was alive, head still attached. Dean was looking right at him.

Ellen respected my wishes and didn't tell him I was there. She made up some crap about hearing Sam had passed away and wanted confirmation. The phone call hadn't been enough to reassure me that the head in the box was a look-a-like. Ellen knew without me telling her. So she called Dean back and asked the boys to come and see her, to put her mind at ease.

After meeting with a Hunter who had a lead on Zak, I was on my way back to The Roadhouse when Jo called me to say the Winchesters had arrived. I feel better just seeing the car, but knowing Sam is so close and that I could literally be touching him in less than a minute has my nerves fried.

I know Sam's mad at me for ditching Bobby. Our communication has been sporadic; our last phone call almost two weeks ago ended with him blowing up and calling me pig-headed and irrational before I hung up on him. We haven't spoken since.

My cell phone chimes on the seat beside me, illuminating a text message from Jo.

Jo to Lexie: Where are you? Looks like the boys are sticking around for the night. Dean is chatting up some skirt.

I smile as I type my reply, thankful for Jo and Ellen running interference for me and the typical Dean behavior. Some things never change.

Lexie to Jo: Parking lot.

Jo to Lexie: Go through the back. I'll bring you some food up in a while. Bar is busy. Busload of sorority girls who can't hold their liquor.

My gaze goes back to the Impala when I toss my phone onto the seat beside me. I feel bad for leaving Ellen and Jo to deal with a busy bar when I could help out, but I'm not sure I should risk seeing Sam. If I see him, touch him, talk to him, I'm not sure I'll be able to walk away again, or he will be willing to leave me behind again.

The Roadhouse door opens, and Dean walks out with his bow-legged strut toward the Impala swinging the keys in his hand happily, a big boyish grin on his face. I've missed that stupid grin.

I slump further down in my seat, but there's no need. I'm too far back in the darkened car park to be seen, and the sorority girl that follows Dean out has his complete attention.

The tall, athletic brunette saunters toward him, a flirtatious smile on her lips as she approaches him. I can't hear them, but Dean must say something witty or charming because there's no mistaking the girl's giggle before she pushes him against the car and kisses him enthusiastically.

My heart stops because now I know Sam is alone inside, probably sat at a table researching on his laptop. My feet take over, and I'm out of the car and walking toward Dean before I can think this through completely.

"Hey, Princess Glitter," I say as I get closer.

Dean promptly parts from the brunette, and his ear-to-ear smile when he sees me is nothing short of comical. "Hey gorgeous!" he says, wrapping me in a hug.

His date is not impressed, and if looks could kill, there would be a reaper at my side right now. "Don't worry," I tell her when he lets me go, "I'm just a friend."

Dean turns to his date, wearing his most charming smile. "Get in the car; I'll be with you in a minute, darling." He winks.

Sorority girl does as she was instructed. Dean turns back to me, nodding toward The Roadhouse, "Sam's in there."

"I know. Ellen called you here because of me." His pinched brow asks me why. "Zak sent me a present. I needed to see you both, make sure you were both okay to believe it."

"A present?"

"It doesn't matter," I shake my head and take a deep breath. "Tell me, if I go in there, am I just going to screw with his head?"

"He would want to see you. Whether or not he lets you walk away again is a different story."

I run my hands over my face and through my hair. I shouldn't go in there. Sam is better off without me around. "So that's a no. I should leave him alone."

"That's up to you. But when I left, one of her friends," he points toward the girl in his car, "was trying her luck with your boy."

I feel the anger bubble inside of me at the thought of some scantily clad chick with her hands all over Sam. Even though I have no right to, he's a free agent and can do whatever he wants, but that doesn't stop me from wanting to rip the hairs from her pretty little head.

Dean sees the fire in my eyes and holds his arms up. "Just saying. Don't shoot the messenger, sweetheart."

I take off toward the door of The Roadhouse, and Dean calls that he'll see me for breakfast tomorrow.

Sam POV.

I wash my hands in the sink of the men's bathroom, taking longer than necessary, trying to avoid the inevitable of going back into the bar and fighting off the advances of the intoxicated sorority girls. I cup some cold water and splash it over my face.

I walk to the trash can to throw away my used paper towels and halt mid-step, seeing Lexie in the mirror standing by the door. I can't stop the small laugh that escapes me or the tiny smirk playing on my lips. "The ladies' is next door, nerd."

Lexie smiles fondly at the use of her nickname. Then her expression changes and her eyes drop, she has a mischievous smile on her face, and I track her arm as she raises it slowly to engage the lock on the bathroom door. My breath catches in my throat, and I swallow a nervous laugh watching her as she briskly cuts the distance between us. Tiptoeing, she takes my face in her hands and kisses me passionately before I can protest or stop her, not that I want to.

I'm angry, happy, relieved, shocked, upset, confused, pissed off, and majorly turned on all at the same time. All because of the girl in front of me, kissing me like she's never kissed me before. Her tongue glides against mine, she lets out a small moan, and that's it; she completely intoxicates me. I run my hands down her sides and cup her ass as she jumps up and wraps herself around me.

I lift her with ease and carry her toward the row of three sinks, sitting her on the countertop. She pushes my jacket from my shoulders, and I let it fall off my arms—all without breaking our kiss.

Our breathing becomes labored as the kiss intensifies. My left hand roams up Lexie's shirt, cupping her breast, while the other rests on the small of her back, holding her against me. My erection rubs against her warmth, and she greedily runs her nails up the flesh of my stomach. I growl into her as she breaks our lips apart to breathe and leave feather-light kisses on my neck.

"I'm still mad at you," I tell her breathlessly.

"I'm counting on it," she admits, and I feel her devilish smile as she nibbles my ear lobe.

I reclaim her mouth, playing with her tongue. She frantically unbuckles my belt. A loud bang on the bathroom door stops us, both breathlessly looking toward the door as Ellen bellows from the other side, "Lexie, you better get your butt out here."

Lexie snorts as I hurriedly refasten my belt, guilt written all over my face. "Be out in a minute," Lexie calls back, stifling a laugh.

"This is not funny," I groan, picking up my discarded jacket, "she's going to kill me."

Lexie chuckles loudly. "Big bad monster-killing Sam Winchester scared of little ol' Ellen Harvelle," she teases, jumping off the counter. She gently wipes some of her transferred lip-gloss from the side of my mouth with her thumb.

She stares into my eyes. God, I've missed her.

"Sam, I…" she starts only to be interrupted by Ellen yelling again.

"Lexie, open this damn door!"

She sighs, annoyed and somewhat amused at the interruption, but she unlocks the door.

Ellen's furious face greets us. "We have customers waiting," she comments, pointing toward the door that leads to the bar. Lexie hangs her head, mainly to shield her laughing from Ellen as she passes her.

"Sam Winchester," Ellen tells me off, shaking her head, "I expect this kind of behavior from your brother, not you!"

I hold my hands up in surrender as I step around her, following Lexie. "Hey, I was just minding my own business; she came on to me!"

Lexie shoots a playful glare over her shoulder. "Snitch."

"Get your ass back in the bar," Ellen orders, smacking me on the back of the head.

I watch Lexie behind the bar as she helps relieve some of the pressure of the busy bar. By the time the last one in the rowdy group of college girls is served her drink, the first one needs another.

I watch Lexie like a hawk, mainly because it's so good to see her but also because I'm afraid she might make a run for it out the back door.

A pretty young woman with bottle-blonde hair, tight-fitting jeans, and a crop top sits across the table from me without invitation. She's biting her lip and smiling widely. I smile politely but turn my attention back to Lexie.

"So, my friend left with your friend." She slurs her words, and I think she thinks she sounds sexy, but she doesn't. "So why don't me and you-"

I see Lexie approaching in my peripheral vision carrying two beers. "I'm flattered, really I am," I start my rejection, interrupting the blonde's proposition, turning my attention back to her.

"But his girlfriend just arrived," Lexie finishes my rejection, putting the beers down and simultaneously sliding onto my lap. I put my arms around her and smile apologetically at our unwanted guest.

"You can join in too," the blonde smiles flirtatiously at Lexie.

"Oh, sweetie. I'm all the woman he can handle," she gives the girl a self-satisfied smile, "and I never did learn to share my toys."

The blonde takes the hint and stumbles her way back over to her friends.

Lexie waits until the girl is a few feet away and moves to sit on the newly vacated chair. She wears a good-natured smile, "Ellen promised not to shoot you for the bathroom stunt."

"Me?" I gasp. "You started it!"

"You promised not to make any more promises when you saw me," she shrugs. "I was just holding you to it." Laughter surrounds us, and it feels so good to hear her laugh and see her smile.

"You know, you have a habit of kissing me in the most incredible way and then stopping," I grin, looking at her lips, "it's really not fair."

She lifts from her chair and slips into my lap, wrapping her arms around my neck. She kisses me tenderly and firmly, pulling away far sooner than I want her to. "I have a room upstairs."

"Lead the way."

Lexie POV

Sam picks me up by my hips and carries me to the bed wrapped around him. I straddle him, feeling that he's already hard, and we lose our shirts amongst desperate kisses. I push him back to lie flat and then step off the bed to remove my jeans while he does the same.

Free of his clothes, he's even more impressive than I imagined, and I'm slightly nervous he's going to hurt me. I haven't been with anyone since Wyatt, and Sam is so big. He pulls me by the hand back to him and I straddle his hips again, leaning over him for a kiss.

There's an air of urgency surrounding us now, neither one of us wanting to take the time to explore and get to know each other's bodies. Sam's large calloused hand finds my folds and I groan against him as he presses his fingers into me while his thumb rubs over my clit. I return the favor and grasp his length in my hand, matching my motions to the rhythm of his fingers as he tries to quickly work me open so as not to hurt me.

I can't wait; I've wanted this for too long.

"Sam," I moan, and it sounds desperate because I am.

He must feel it, too, because he quickly flips me beneath him. He hovers over me, elbows on either side of my shoulders, propping himself up, so he doesn't crush me. He lines himself up, and with all the pent-up frustration, he pushes into me a bit too much too soon, and I gasp.

"I'm sorry. Do you want me to stop?" he whispers.

"No, just go slow."

He kisses me, and it's tender and sweet. I melt into him, my body relaxes, allowing him to enter me completely. He rocks his hips, and my eyes roll back in my head; he feels so good I could die right here. I've thought about this moment more times than I can count, but nothing could have prepared me for how it actually feels.

Sam POV

Lexie moans my name in my ear and bites my shoulder, and I know she's hitting her climax for the third time. I can't hold back any longer, she digs her nails into my back, and it sends me over the edge as I feel the sweet heat course through me as I release myself.

I stare down at her lying beneath me, tiny sweat beads on her forehead. The fabric of her lace bra, which I hadn't bothered removing because I just wanted to bury myself in her, tickles my bare chest as she pants to catch her breath.

My mind buzzes, a thousand thoughts racing through my head as I gaze into her blue eyes.

She never shies away from my gaze but instead fixes her eyes to me. I want to say something, make a witty comment or compliment her, but I'm at a loss for words. My heart feels like it's going to burst out of my chest and not from exertion. If only it would stop skipping every other beat.

The sex was amazing; we instantly found a rhythm. If I hadn't known any better, I would have thought she had read my mind about what I did and didn't like. I realize it's because she knows me so well; she can read me like no one else can. The intoxication of being physically and mentally connected is addicting, and I feel myself get hard again.

She has blown my mind, and not in the fast and furious, can't get enough of each other lustful way; it's more than that.

I wanted us to take our time, and after we got over the urgency of it all, we did. I wanted to feel everything. Every time we changed position, it was exhilarating and set my skin on fire. When I thought I couldn't get any deeper, she would make a slight adjustment, and I'd sink further into her.

She purrs my name, still coming down from her high. She's smiling up at me, and she's never been more beautiful. She pushes some of my hair from my face and leans up to place the softest kiss on my lips.

"You okay?" She releases me and lowers her head to the pillow.

I angle my head down to kiss her again; my lips brush hers, and I whisper, "I lov-"

Lexie takes my words with a kiss. My phone rings somewhere in the room, and she takes the opportunity to nudge me off her telling me I should answer it in case it's Dean.

She disappears into the en-suite bathroom as I find my phone.

Lexie POV

What the hell have I done? I sit naked on the edge of the bathtub listening to Sam tell Dean he's with me and we'll be downstairs in a minute.

How did I go from not sure I should reveal myself to Sam to fucking him in my bed? No, that's wrong, we didn't fuck, and we didn't have sex. We made love, and that's a billion times worse!

He was going to say he loved me before I stopped him. I can't hear the words. I have to leave; Sam must know that this doesn't mean the band is back together. Nothing has changed, yet everything has changed. I should never have asked Ellen to call them, or I should have turned around when Jo called me to tell me they were at The Roadhouse.

I don't know what came over me. I had watched him from the kitchen, sitting at the table, slowly sipping a beer and scrolling through his phone. When he got up to go to the bathroom, I was ready to walk away. My fear had been put to rest; he was okay; I had seen him with my own two eyes.

I could see his silhouette through the frosted glass as I passed the bathroom on my way upstairs to my room, and my feet took their own path—the path to self-sabotage.

If Zak finds out… if he has someone in the bar watching us… oh god, what have I done? My stomach lurches, threatening to bring up the chicken salad I had for dinner earlier.

"Lex," Sam calls softly, knocking on the bathroom door replacing my 'what-if' panic churning stomach with immediate 'you-have-to-deal-with-Sam' anxiety. "Dean is back; he wants to see you."

"Okay," my voice sounds strained, so I clear my throat. "Okay, yeah. I'll be down in a minute."

"Can you- can you please come out here?"

I can't. I can't go out there and face him. To see the hope in his eyes, to know that I'll crush that hope when I leave. When I do the one thing I never wanted to do–let him have me only to make him lose me.

Although maybe if I act casual and somewhat normal, he will believe me when I tell him that what just happened meant nothing. It's the only way to keep him safe, protect him from Zak.

I open the bathroom door and stand with it partially blocking my naked body. I keep my face straight, with a small smile, "I'll meet you in the bar. Just need a minute."

Sam knows something is off; I can see it in his face that he wants to talk. I tiptoe and quickly kiss his lips; he leans into me, wanting to deepen it, but I pull away and close the door repeating that I'll see him in the bar.

I listen as he gets dressed and wait until I hear the bedroom door close before I move. I take a shower; I need to wash his smell off me. I'm going to have to break his heart, and I can't do that if I can smell him on my skin.

There's half an hour before closing when I return to the bar, and thankfully the bevy of college girls has left. Dean's date must have had to be back by a specific time; that's why he's back so soon.

I help Jo and Ellen serve the remaining few customers then start wiping down the tables, ready to close up. Sam and Dean sit at the end of the bar, drinking beer and talking.

I caught Dean's eye when I entered, and the disappointed, all-knowing look he gave me made me feel like shit. He obviously figured out what happened between Sam and me and Dean knows his brother isn't going to leave me behind for the second time.

Dean understands what I'm going to need to do. I've let Dean down too, he's disappointed in me, and that stings more than I like.

Sam's making puppy dog eyes at me the whole time I'm working. I wish I could just run out the back door, but it wouldn't be enough. Sam would track me down and force me to let him help me. I need to make sure he won't pursue me.

I tell Ellen I'm going to restock the fridge and disappear out the back. I text Dean when I'm out of view of Sam.

Lexie to Dean: I'm going to need your help, and it's not going to be pretty.

I grab a case of beer, and Dean replies by the time I'm walking back up from the basement. I read his message before going back into the main bar.

Dean to Lexie: Do what you need to do. I'll follow your lead.

Lexie to Dean: Just be you. Make a dumb, sexually suggestive comment; I'll do the rest.

Dean to Lexie: Hey, I stand by every dumb, sexually suggestive comment I've ever made.

If I didn't feel so utterly rotten, I'd have had a chuckle at that, but I just don't have it in me.

Sam, Dean, Jo, and Ellen are at a table when I return and start restocking the fridges. Dean is talking about their latest hunt of a Dijin, but I'm only half listening because I can feel Sam's gaze burning into me.

I know what I'm going to have to say to him, the unforgivable words I will have to utter to make him walk away from me. Maybe forever because I really am going to hurt him. It's the only thing I can do to put the notion of us together to rest. I need to kill any fantasy of Sam and me together before we've even started.

I replay the video of Wyatt's torture in my head, refresh the sound of his screams in my mind. That will happen to Sam if I don't do this. I hold on to that thought.

Ash appears from his lair, carrying a file and his laptop. He clocks me behind the bar and spreads his arms wide with his smile to match, "Lex a million!"

I've no idea why he calls me that. Ash is a law unto himself.

"Hey Ash," I grin at him, "I'm liking that smile; talk to me."

Bobby told me about Ellen, Jo, and Ash and that Ash would be able to help me. I've enlisted him to help me search for the witch Zak hired to cast the spell.

"Buy a guy a drink first," Ash smirks, sitting at the bar in front of me.

His voice carries in the otherwise empty bar, and though I don't know him that well, I can tell from his tone and demeanor he's proud of himself, he's found something of interest.

We've gained everyone's attention, and by the time I've poured Ash and me a whiskey, they are all sitting along the bar in a row waiting to hear Ash's news.

Ash tips his glass to me as a thank you as he opens his laptop, "I've got good news, bad news, and great news."

I take a deep breath and prompt Ash to continue, "start with the bad."

"The spell is real," he smiles apologetically, "it's bonafide true; your life is bound to the suck head."

I already knew that. Deep down, I knew it but hearing someone else say it, someone with Ash's skills, makes it that much more real. I studied Computer Science at Stanford before I left. I know my way around a computer. I can do more than the basics, find information on the dark web, and hack into government agencies, but Ash is way beyond my capabilities. It's quite scary.

I chug my whiskey and pour another. "The good news?"

"I figured out who the witch is, the one who cast the spell."

Ash pauses for dramatic effect, and I let him have his moment. Maybe he wants me to ask how he worked it out, but I don't need to know how he figured it out. I just need to know who she or he is.

Ash holds out the file to me, but Sam snatches it before I can take it. I ignore the intrusion; Sam can look at the details all he wants, it doesn't mean he can do anything about it.

I take my glare from Sam and look to Ash. "And the great news?"

Ash spins his laptop around to show me the screen. "I know where she is."

"Scotland, England?" I question looking at the information on the screen.

"Been there about three months," Ash informs me, "she's been lying low. I think she's running."

I motion toward Ash's computer, asking permission, "may I?"

"Go ahead," he smirks smugly, "or you can go pack; your flight leaves in eight hours."

I hoist myself up over the bar and give Ash's cheek a chaste kiss, "Ash, I think I just fell a little bit in love with you."

I land back on my feet and take off to go pack. Sam is up and chasing me along the bar before I make it four steps. "Wait, hold up."

I stop my race to leave and face him, the wooden bar in between us. I make sure to meet his eyes, to let him know I'm not avoiding him in any way when really all I want to do is curl up into a little ball and disappear.

Sam's eyes clutch mine. "That's it; you're just going to take off?"

Ok, so this is it. I won't need Dean to make some dumb comment; Sam is starting the conversation himself. I won't need Dean's assistance to break his brother's heart.

"Well yeah, what do you expect me to do?"

"Oh, I don't know." Sam throws his hands up in frustration. "Maybe take a minute so we can make a plan, figure out our next move."

"Our next move?" I ask with raised eyebrows. "There is no us, Sam. I don't need a chaperone."

I can see his mind working through my words and the flat tone I used. I'm not angry or trying to push him away to protect him; I'm being very matter-of-fact.

"Don't give me that," he says, shaking his head in denial. "I'm not going to let you pretend we didn't just–"

I cut him off, "I'm not pretending anything, Sam." I confirm with a sympathetic twitch of my lips. "What happened earlier? It was great. It was amazing."

Sam's adam's apple bobs up and down. I think he wants to tell me to stop talking, but his throat must be too dry because no words come out. I inhale through my nose, preparing to stick the knife in his chest, but Sam finds his voice first. "Lexie, I'm in love with you."

Fuck! He said it; he said the words. Fuck. I remind myself of Wyatt, the howls of pain, the blood-curdling pitiful cry he managed with his last breath. I dig my nails in my palm to remind myself to focus, not to clamber across the bar and kiss him.

"I've been in love with you since I met you," Sam sighs. He's not holding back now that he's started. "You've always been there for me. You've always been the person I want to run to, the person I can count on. I love you, Lex, I want to-"

I hold my hand up, halting his confession, "Sam, stop!"

"No!" He takes a step toward the bar, raising his voice, "no, I'm tired of denying it, tired of dancing around it."

"So let's stop dancing," I tell him softly, even though I know our captive audience can hear me.

Sam settles down, knowing I'm willing to talk about it. He takes a few breaths, and then I plunge the knife in. "Sam, I don't feel it." I give him a small apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, but I just don't feel the same."

The knife is firmly in his chest; now, I just need to twist it to the left.

Sam's eyes cloud over, and he finds the words, but he speaks so quietly I don't think Dean, who is sat less than three feet away, can hear him. "You don't mean that; I know you feel something–"

I interrupt him, "I thought it too, Sam." I have to admit to it to make my rejection believable. So he will think I have put serious thought into what I am saying. "I thought there was something more between us, more than friends. For a long time, I thought I felt it too. But after we– now I see it was just sexual tension, purely physical."

Sam shakes his head slowly, keeping his eyes on me. "Lex, I know you. You're just scared. I'm in love with you, and I know you're in love with me too."

"Sam, I'm sorry, but I just don't feel it." I shrug my shoulders indifferently. I keep my tone sympathetic and raw. "I love you, you're my best friend, but I'm not in love with you."

Sam hangs his head, shuffling on his feet. "You're lying." He's trying to convince himself because I sound so sure. I'm certain at this moment I'm not in love with him; I can fake it for five more minutes. I know he will leave in a flurry of hurt and anger once I've convinced him completely, then I can break down.

I imagine him bloody and lifeless and speak with conviction twisting the knife to the right. "You do know me, Sam, probably better than anyone. So look me in the eye and tell me I'm lying."

Sam raises his eyes to mine, and he paralyzes me to the spot. There's pain etched in his eyes, a crease in his brow, and his nostrils flare with each huff of breath. He swallows visibly, tears make his eyes greener, and that's when I know I've done it; he believes me. He believes I'm not in love with him.

I want every monster he has ever killed to rip me apart, limb from limb, slowly and methodically, because that would hurt less than seeing him like this.

Now I have to pull the knife out, one final blow. "Come on, dork," I smile playfully with a no-hard feelings tone, "We're still friends, right?"

Sam spins around so fast it makes me dizzy. He lifts his jacket from the chair he draped it over earlier and is by the door in six long strides.

"Come on, Sam," I call after him; he freezes, his hand on the deadbolt on the door. Figure I might as well throw some salt in his wound too. "You're not being fair. Let's be adults about this."

He pulls down the deadbolt and is gone. The door is still swinging shut when I scramble over the bar to go after him.

Dean restrains me, large hands pushing back on my shoulders. "It's done. It's done, sweetheart." I fall against him, and he catches me in a brotherly hug as I sob.

I bury my head in his chest and let the cries take over. Dean strokes my hair, kisses my temple, and whispers, "you did it. Now you have to let him go."

Dean lowers me into a nearby chair and kneels in front of me. He cups my face in his hands. "You did the right thing. He'll figure that out too; just give him some time." He leans in and kisses my forehead.

"Dean, you should go," Ellen tells him. "We've got her."

"Call me if you need anything," Dean demands. His hands leave my face, and Jo's replace them as she takes his place in front of me.

Part 8 - Wednesday 1st September 2021