The water wasn't as warm as it was at first. She had stood under the flow of water until it went from unbearably hot to luke-warm. Letting it wash away the blood and grime of the last two days. She sat in the floor of the shower hoping the steam would help ease her pounding head, it had barely hurt when she first woke up but after the two straight hours of crying on Sam's shirt it began to increase by the minute. When the crying subsided the guilt was overwhelming… she pulled herself away from him and told them she wanted to shower and change, trying to rid herself of all the reminders.
There were knocks at the door that caused her to jump, one of their voices. But she didn't hear what they said. She couldn't focus on anything other than the flow of water directly in front of her; the sound of the water bouncing off the tile. The knocking stopped, but Sara couldn't bring herself to move yet.
Had she ruined everything? She shot her best friend… she shot the most important person in the world to Dean. She shot one of the two most important people in the world to herself. She would have killed him, and even though she knew it was out of her control she hated herself for that. She tried to reassure herself by saying that even under the spell she took what she hoped would be a non-lethal shot, but was that true or just dumb luck?
Every time she pulled herself away from the waves of guilt, she landed right in middle of a hurricane of questions around her own injury. She knew he was intentional in his aim, trying not to kill her.
How could she be mad at Dean for reacting? For protecting Sam? She couldn't be, and she wasn't.
He spared her life, when he didn't have to… but of course, who would have saved Sam if she died? She told herself over and over again that Dean spared her life because he needed her, and while that thought was heavy enough to carry around, the thought that she almost didn't save him was heavier. The thought of a world without Sam, it was one she didn't want to live in.
Dean would never forgive her for this… Sam SHOULD never forgive her for this. She told herself over and over again how stupid she had been to not stick to their side like she had been told so many times before. For pushing for more independence, look where it's gotten her. Dean was right. Dean was right every single time, and now she knew he would never look at her the same way.
Whatever she thought may have been ready to ignite between the two of them would surely be shattered now, and that hurt almost as much as the thought of losing her two best friends. She's supposed to be their life line… but would they even want her to stay after she's the one that almost killed them?
The water finally began to run cold, and it caused her to shiver. She pulled herself to stand, turned off the stream and wrapped her body in a towel. She went to stand at the sink, and when she looked at herself all she could see was the bullet hole in her arm, only slightly healed at this point. When she pulled her gaze away from that she noted the redness around her eyes. How puffy her face was.
She turned away the mirror and brushed her teeth while standing to the side of the sink instead of directly in front of it.
How could she look at herself ever again after what she'd done?
"Any luck?" Sam asked as Dean wandered back into the library.
"I knocked, but she didn't answer. I didn't figure it was time to push yet."
Just as Dean spoke both of their phones buzzed, they looked down to see a text from Sara to their group chat that read "Headache is back, going to sleep it off. See you in the morning."
"Well, not that I think she's lying, but she's also avoiding us."
"I feel like we're back at square one. She's going to distance herself, I just don't know if she's feeling guilty, or… angry, or scared?"
"Or all of them." Dean shrugged.
"Yeah." Sam sighed. "We gotta talk to her. She's gotta let this go… it wasn't her fault."
"Yeah." Dean mumbled as he tipped his beer back and then spun the bottom of it against the table.
"Dean, it wasn't your fault either. You saved both of us… she'll heal. You didn't do it to hurt her, she knows that."
"Does she?" He asked not looking up. Sam looked at him sadly, knowing that he was going to blame himself for this in every way he could.
"Dean, we just have to hope that everything we have told her so far sticks. She knows we love her, and that she a part of this family now. We gotta give her just a little bit of time to process before she's ready to work through it." Sam encouraged.
"I'm going out." Dean sighed as he stood and grabbed the keys. Sam watched as he went out the door, knowing that he wouldn't be home until late or early tomorrow. It was barely 4 in the afternoon, but the day felt like it had gone on forever.
…..
…..
…..
Sara wandered into the kitchen for a drink, hoping that she had waited out the boys and that they would be asleep by now. But just as she shut the cabinet doors Sam's head lifted from his computer in the library and he made his way towards the noise in the kitchen.
"Hey." He said softly as he stepped in.
"Hey." Sara replied quickly, her eyes only meeting his for a second.
"Are you feeling any better?"
"Yeah. A little."
"How's the arm?" Sam asked as he looked down to the fresh wrapped bandages.
Sara's hands that had busying themselves by the sink suddenly became frozen at the mention of her arm. At the mention of the incident… at the thought of a gun in her hand. The sight of Sam on the ground covered in blood. The pain in her own body not even registering due to the shock.
Sam noted her reaction and how as her hands began to shake she pulled them back and tried to hide them. He moved to step towards her.
"Doesn't hurt, it will heal like always." She smiled at him briefly before turning away. She hoped if she made her way to the hall he wouldn't stop her, but would she ever get that lucky?
"Sara, wait." Sam called after her. "Please talk to me. I know you're upset but I'm not. And it wasn't yo-"
"I can't. I'm sorry… my head is just pounding. We'll talk tomorrow, okay?" She lied as reassuringly as possible.
"Okay." Sam caved with a smile, not sure how to make her understand that she didn't have to hide from him. That she didn't have to feel guilty, or process this alone.
"Night, Sam." She called as she walked.
"Night." He sighed as she disappeared before he could even get the word past his lip.
…..
…..
…..
Sam's phone rang again… and again. And again until it stopped. He was barely conscious, but when the noise stopped he began to relax back into his slumber.
Until it rang again.
With a groan he reached over and answered the call.
"Hello." He grumbled.
"Sammy… I need a ride." Dean sighed on the other end.
"Where are you?" Sam rolled his eyes as he pulled himself up to sit.
"Uhhh.. I don't know." Dean pulled away from the speaker, giggles following his faded voice. "Uh. Apartment complex in town, I'll just uh meet you in the parking lot. Look for the brown roofs."
"Yeah. Be there in a few."
Sam pulled on a jacket and walked down the hall, with Baby gone he knew the easiest thing to do would be to take Sara's car. He went to knock, but stopped and figured she probably would rather he just drive the damn thing then wake her up at 3 in the morning to ask about it.
It took him all of 15 minutes to make it to the small apartment complex with brown roofs. He spotted the impala in the corner of the parking lot, and Dean leaned against it. He parked beside it and waited for the passenger door to open.
A knock on the window beside him caught him off guard.
"Hey. Drive Baby back… I can't leave her." Dean insisted.
"And leave Sara's car?"
"Well it's not like she's going to need it tonight." Dean shrugged, a little too relaxed.
Sam knew better than to argue with him when he was like this, so he turned off the engine, carefully made sure everything was locked and then took the keys from Dean's hand before sliding into the impala and firing up the engine as Dean made himself comfortable in the passenger seat. A telling grin on his face.
"Have fun tonight?"
"Oh yeah. Red heads man… they are WILD."
"Yeah." Sam chuckled, half annoyed but half sympathetic that Dean needed a break. Needed a night off to just deal with things in his own way.
"When I wake up we'll come back for her car. Promise." Dean said before nodding off in the seat.
After a restless night filled with nightmares and the inability to get comfortable laying on her arm Sara finally dragged herself out of bed at around 7. She gave up on the idea of being put together for the day and settled for a haphazard bun which was much more difficult with a busted arm than she thought it would be, and her favorite gray hoodie.
It would cover her arm so that hopefully no one would raise any questions. She walked down the hall in search of her keys, thinking that maybe a drive to the coffee shop would help her feel like she might have a chance at still making things work here in the bunker. That maybe the little bit of space between them for even a few minutes would give her the chance to take a deep breath.
However when she searched, she kept coming up empty handed. She eventually began to question if she had mistakenly left them in the car itself. She headed up towards the door to the garage and to her shock her car was gone.
She walked back down the hall towards their rooms and noted that both of the boys had their doors closed, as if they were still in bed asleep…
Did they not want her to have a chance to run?
Was Dean punishing her? Taking away the car he had gifted her with… taking away her chance at independence in her day to day life now that he had every bit of proof to say that she should have listened to him from the beginning.
Her eyes wanted to water, but her body was out of tears to cry. Instead, they just stung and Sara pushed her fingers against them as she leaned against the counter, waiting for the coffee maker to finish.
"You good?"
A voice called out and caused her to jump, she opened her eyes and caught sight of a messy haired Dean stumbling his way towards her.
"Yeah. Uh, just the headache." She lied as she turned to face the coffee maker and busy her hands with the sugar spoon.
"Enough for two over there?" Dean asked as he sat at the table, sideways in the chair to face her.
"Yeah." She said reaching for a second cup.
Dean looked up and even hungover he could see how rigid her stance was. How defensive her movements were… he hated it.
"How's your ar-"
"Do you want cream or sugar?" She cut him off without turning to look at him, just repeatedly moving things to make herself look busy. She knew he wanted it black. Nothing added… but she hoped he didn't catch on.
"No. Black is good." Dean answered, clearly taking the underlying hint.
"Here ya go." She smiled at him briefly before she handed him the cup.
Her smile was dull. It didn't reach her eyes or turn her cheeks pink like it usually would. That's how Dean knew it wasn't real, it was a façade. It was a show she was putting on, but for who's benefit… his or hers?
Was she afraid of him?
Did she hate him?
He asked himself those questions over and over and over again until he just couldn't do it anymore, which is when he knew he had to blow off some steam. The sexual tension building between them right before such an intense event left his body feeling pent up, and he needed to feel himself relax. To think clearly, be able to observe her and understand how to go forward.
She instantly moved back towards her room after he took the cup from her hands.
"Uh, we can go get your car in a bit if you want?" Dean said before she could get too far away.
"Oh, I didn't know it was gone." She lied.
"Yeah. Uh, I needed a ride last night and Sam came to pick me up, but we ended up driving the impala back. If you give me a minute to choke this down I'll take you to it and just follow you back."
"Yeah, sure. I'll meet you in the garage when you're ready." Sara smiled again.
The same stiff, tight smile she had already given him twice today.
He closed his eyes as she disappeared around the corner. He couldn't ask… couldn't push… didn't want to scare her more if she was afraid of him. She had every right to be, even though it was warranted he put a bullet in her. He finished his coffee, brushed his teeth, splashed his face with cold water, and changed his clothes before walking to meet her. He found her already sitting in the passenger seat, fiddling with her hands.
He climbed in and turned on the radio to combat the silence, something they were both happy to hear.
Neither of them spoke as they drove into town, at least not until they pulled into the apartment complex and Sara began to piece together the puzzle of what Dean had been doing last night. She looked over to him and the soft discolorations on his neck confirmed the realization rolling in her gut.
"Something come up last night?" She asked. She didn't know why… she knew the truth. He owed her nothing, yet something in her couldn't NOT say the words- wanting to know if he'd lie about it.
"No uh, just went out for a drink. Little R&R and uh, well… you can probably guess the rest."
She nodded as he pulled into the parking spot next to her car.
"You deserve a little R&R." She smiled before reaching for her keys on the seat between them and moving to get out of the car.
"Sara wait." Dean called out. He didn't know why… he had no idea what he wanted to say to her. Yet she paused and turned back towards him, he scrambled for words. "You uh, just don't turn down River St. They've been working on potholes in the road… I'll follow you back."
"Okay, I'll make sure to re-route us."
Dean smiled briefly as she spoke and then he watched her climb out of the car and into her own, she started it and began to back out of the spot, he pulled out behind her and followed her as she led them back to the bunker. Telling himself that he just needed to let her be the one to break the ice, he's seen what happens when they push too much. However based on some recent experiences he also knew he needed to keep her close, watch her carefully.
Sara however forced herself to drive with her hands at 10 and 2. She knew it was ridiculous and probably out of line but she was angry. She was hurt. She was jealous. She had no claim on Dean Winchester. No reason as to why he could not or should not go out and do as he please anytime he wants… Who was she to feel the way she does? It just reinforced in her mind that Dean looked at her differently… that he would never see their relationship, their friendship the same way again.
But again- she knew who Dean was from the beginning. He never hid it. He never lied about it, he was never shy about his love of women and the charm he used to make them all fall for him in minutes. He was Dean, and for Sara to have expected anything different was just her setting herself up to get her feelings hurt.
Once they had arrived back to the bunker Sara was quick to jump out of her car and take the steps two at a time, opening the door before Dean could barely get out of the impala. He sighed as he leaned back against the driver's side.
As Sara pushed her feet to carry her further down the hall, she kept her eyes to the ground which led her to run right into Sam as he stepped out.
"Oh, hey. Sorry." He said as he grabbed her shoulders gently. Caught off guard she hadn't had time to fake her mask, to swallow her emotions, and Sam read them like words. "Sara, what's wrong?"
"Nothing." She lied as she shook him off with a grin and an awkward laugh. She tried to pull away, but this time Sam held his ground a little.
"Sara, we really should talk about what happened… let me cook you some breakfast, or take you for lunch today."
"I'm really not hungry."
Although that statement actually wasn't a lie.
"Okay. Sara… throw me a bone here. Do you want to go somewhere you feel is more comfortable? Do you want to talk in your room? Or even talk to Dean instead?"
"No." She answered quickly. "Uh, Can we just talk tomorrow? I just feel drained and I want to try and relax today. I just. I need some time."
"Okay… tomorrow. Promise?"
"Yeah. Promise." She smiled as she pulled away.
…..
…..
…..
It had been 3 days since Sam had caught Sara in the hall.
She kept her door locked, something she had never done before… Every time they tried to go in or get her to come out she would either ignore their requests or text them with an excuse. Dean wondered if she was eating, but she must have been carefully waiting them out each night because when he'd wake in the morning there would be a different coffee mug in the sink, and the food in the fridge would be rearranged.
What he wasn't expecting was for his whiskey stash to be missing a bottle, maybe two.
That concerned him almost as much as the cold shoulder.
He couldn't blame her for being mad at him. Scared of him. Wanting to get away from him… but he knew Sara didn't drink often, and when she drank whiskey, she wasn't nearly as much fun as when she drank tequila. Whatever she was trying to drown out would come back to bite her if she didn't get it off her chest. This wasn't something she could just lock away in one of her mental boxes.
He stood outside her door sometimes, wondering if he should go in despite the locked door- he knew he could pick it in less than 30 seconds. But the memory of her bleeding in the floor stopped him every time… his guilt taunting him every time he convinced himself it was time to push her a little harder.
Sam spent another day looking at possible cases. Stopping by Sara's room once every few hours, just to see if by chance she'd open the door. Asking himself when was the right time to put an end to this whether she wanted to or not, he also knew she can't go on like this for long and the more he waited the worse it would be.
"Find anything interesting?" Dean asked as he came to sit across the table from him.
"Yeah, we got this thing in Wyoming. Lots of cattle coming up dead, few bodies drained just a couple months later… sounds like someone's falling off the vegetarian vampire train."
"Alright. Let's take it."
"As in… all of us? Or you want to go and I'll stay? What are you thinking here?"
"I'm thinking that the only way she's coming out of that room is if we give her a reason she can't say no to… she won't turn down a case, and she won't let us turn one down because of her."
Also, he was desperate to see her face. Hear her voice. It was killing him as much as it was killing her whether he would ever admit it out loud or not.
"And you think sticking us in car together for 18 hours is the right move?"
"I think that it's not getting any better with her avoiding us. At least this way she'll have to talk to us, can't keep hiding, Sam. I think she's drinking herself through the day."
"Well that's a disaster waiting to happen." He said dragging his hand down his face. "I've tried to talk to her every single day. Multiple times a day. I'm this close to just picking the lock and going in."
"Yeah. I know." Dean sighed… however he was more tempted to barge into her room at night. When he was laying in bed awake, wishing she would just look at him again. Remembering the look on her face a couple of weeks ago when she told him that she trusted him, and there wasn't a shred of doubt to be found. How hard they had worked to get to that point, and how quickly it disappeared again.
"Okay, well. I'll start packing us up. You go tell her." Sam said as he stood.
"Thanks." Dean groaned as he stood and walked down the hall. But secretly he was glad Sam said it. He would take any excuse to be the one that went in her room and tried to pull her out of this hole she was in. He stood outside of her door, the same door he had stared at several times over the last couple of days. He stepped forward and knocked.
"Sara… hey. We got a case, we need to head out today."
There wasn't a response, but there were footsteps, and then the click of a lock. The door opened just a crack, and the footsteps moved away from it again. Dean took a chance and stepped forward, pushing it open and entering Sara's room.
When he looked around he could see that hadn't been sleeping very much over the last few days. The furniture was moved. The pictures were moved. Everything was rearranged, and then looked like it had been rearranged again. There was a small pile of dirty clothes in the basket in the corner, and the floor of her closet was cluttered with shoes and other discarded clothing items.
"Where are we going?"
Sara's voice caught his attention immediately, he turned towards her but she was already packing the duffle bag she had laid open on the bed, not bothering to look up at him while she packed.
"Wyoming. Probably a vamp nest."
"Okay, I'll pack something warm."
"Sara?" He hoped she would turn towards him finally.
"Yeah?" She replied as she continued to move, never standing still. Never focused on just one thing.
"Pack enough for a couple of weeks, sometimes these hunts take a while if the nest is on the move or laying low.
"Yeah, sounds good." She said moving towards the bathroom to grab her things from there.
Dean sighed and moved towards the doorway, blocking it with his body and knowing the small bathroom limited her chances to avoid him any longer.
"Sweetheart." Dean paused, watching as she was running out of things to grab, running out of reasons to keep turning away from him. "You're gonna have to look at me eventually, I'd rather know you can do that now and not when we're looking over our shoulder for fangs."
Sara stopped. The way the first word flowed from his mouth so easily made her want to grab him and never leave the safety of his hold again. The rest of the words that followed sank in her stomach. She knew he was right… she would only be putting them in danger or keep them from doing the job if she didn't pull herself together- at least on the surface. Her shoulders dropped slightly as she turned towards him.
She looked at him for the first time in days, and tried to prove to him that she was composed.
"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm good to hunt." She smiled.
"I missed you around here the last couple of days… are you feeling any better?"
"Yeah. I uh, just needed to let myself recuperate."
"Good. I was starting to worry about you, things got a little crazy there for a minute."
"Yeah, but we're all alive so I'm good." She smiled again, but Dean could see right through her.
"When you're packed up just meet us in the library. We'll stop for food on the road unless you wanna eat before we go?"
"No, I'm good for now." She said still looking at him. Determined to make this work. Determined not to let her own guilt and anxiety affect them or their safety. It wasn't their responsibility to worry about her day in and day out. She knew now she would just have to focus on making sure she gave them no reason to worry.
"Okay." Dean smiled back as he turned to walk out. As he walked he tried to not turn his head to the left and give away the fact that he clearly spotted the empty bottle of whiskey near her bedside table. He left her door open, knowing that it had been closed long enough and honestly afraid she might lock it again and never come out. Part of him thought maybe he should disable the mechanism to be safe, but that was probably taking things a little far.
"She gonna come out?" Sam said as he put bags into the trunk.
"Yeah. She uh, she talked to me. She's packing a bag as we speak… she's faking it but she's trying so that's progress. Doors open finally."
"Good. I think you're right Dean. We just gotta get back there and show her that what happened didn't change anything for us. Maybe that will help her understand."
"I hope so."
It was another 20 minutes or so before footsteps down the hall caught Sam's attention as they waited in the library. He looked up with a smile as she finally rounded the corner, bags in hand. He moved forward to grab them for her.
"Hey, you ready to hit the road?"
"Yeah." She smiled back at him. Just seeing his face was a punch to the gut. To think she hurt this man, this person who gave her so much. But she knew she had to swallow that down and play along for his sake. She didn't want him to worry about her any longer.
"I'll get these in the trunk, let's head out."
Sara followed behind him, and Dean followed in line behind her. She made her way to the car and took her usual spot in the backseat as the packed the last of their things and climbed in. The hum of the engine was almost comforting, a sound she had missed over the last few days.
…..
…..
…..
Sam had only let them get a couple of hours down the road before he broke the silence. Not that it was uncomfortable for any of them, but just because he missed talking to his best friend as much as she did.
"You hungry for anything special?" He turned and asked Sara. She looked at him and shook her head back and forth.
"Not really. I'm fine with whatever you guys want. We can drive a little further if you want. I'm not in a rush to eat."
"Did you eat last night?" Sam couldn't stop himself from asking.
"Just something small. I got caught up reading a book. Just couldn't put it down long enough to make something."
"Oh. Okay. Dean you wanna just pull in somewhere at the next town?"
"Yeah. Sure." Dean nodded. His eyes going to the rearview mirror, watching her try to pretend like everything was normal between them.
The radio went back to being the only sound in the car… but Sam's knee bounced. Dean knew he couldn't hold it in much longer. Dean was the kind of person to ignore something until it went away, but not Sam. Sam wanted to deal with it, and move past it. He couldn't leave things lingering in the background of his mind.
"Sara." He finally said as he turned in the seat. Dean almost held his breath, curious to see how she would react now that she had no where to hide.
Sara however had been preparing herself for this from the moment Dean said they had a case.
"Yeah?"
"I just… I want to talk. I know you've been distant the last few days, and I don't want to push if you're not ready. But you don't have to deal with whatever's in your head by yourself. We were all there, we know it wasn't your fault. I'm not mad at you, I'm just happy we're both okay."
Dean stared at her through the mirror. Sara reached up and grabbed his hand before she spoke.
"Sam, I. I'm so sorry… I never wanted to hurt you. I just wish I could take it back."
"You don't have to be sorry, Sara. You saved my life."
"Yeah." She mumbled looking back down. When she looked up again her eyes met Dean's in the mirror. He wished he knew what she was thinking, her expression was unreadable. He would give anything to make her forget it ever happened.
"Sara, we love you. We don't want you to feel like you have to hide from us."
"I know. I'm sorry." She smiled briefly.
Sam was partially satisfied, but he and Dean both knew this wouldn't be the end of the conversation… but it was all she was willing to give them for now. He reached up and squeezed her arm softly before he turned back around, letting the day play out like usual.
It was the middle of the night by the time they made it to a motel in town. They knew the best thing to do was to crash and pick things up in the morning. Sara however dreaded going to sleep… how could she hide the nightmares from them? How could she hide her quick fix of drinking herself back to sleep so that she wouldn't have another.
She debated back and forth between what emotion would be easier to lay with. The guilt laying next to Sam, or the heartache of knowing Dean would never think of her the same way again. She honestly couldn't choose… so when the decision was made for her she didn't have the heart to protest one way or the other.
"He passed out quick." Dean mused noting Sam laid across the bed, soft snores filling the silence.
"Yeah. He must be worn out. Have you guys been keeping busy?"
"I think he was just worried about you, he's a talk it out kind of guy ya know?"
"He shouldn't be worried… I'm the one that shot him." She mumbled so softly Dean wasn't sure he was supposed to hear it. He went to speak, but held back. Sara stiffly laid her pillow on her side of the bed and kicked off her shoes while Dean double checked lines and moved to the bathroom.
She laid down and reached over, tapping the switch on the lamp and making the room dark enough that she could barely see Sam across the gap between beds. As Dean came to bed, he noted she kept her back turned towards him and left plenty of space… like she did when they would fight.
He laid down and battled with himself, unable to rest having her so close, but not feeling like he could reach out and touch her… finally it became too much for him and he decided to play it off like he was asleep and reached out for her.
Sara knew he did this often when they shared a bed, and usually it was her that reached towards his body heat first. But this time she held her breath as she felt the weight of the bed shift… It was just his hand landing on her arm. Just something small yet the contact felt like it broke the wall she had built between them.
Dean must have felt it too because he dragged his finger tips up and down her arm slowly, no longer feeling like he had to pretend to be asleep. He smiled to himself as he felt her body become less stiff as he moved. He knew speaking would ruin it, and honestly, he didn't feel like he needed words to make his point. He just wanted her to know he never meant to hurt her either.
While he would never admit the ways it broke his heart to pull that trigger, he wanted her to know he she didn't have to be scared of him… begged her silently not to be afraid or angry.
Sara took in a deep breath and let it out as his touch increased in pressure, he began rubbing her shoulder and gently squeezing the muscle between it and her neck. Using his fingers to pull her hair out of the way. Sara melted at his touch… it's the reason she locked herself away from them for so long. She knew she was putty in his hands, that she couldn't fake it with him. She wouldn't be able to hide the pain, and the guilt she carried.
Finally, she turned her body into the mattress and moved to lay beside him. Laid flat on her stomach and her arms around her pillow her eyes could barely find his in the dark as she faced him. The dim moonlight trying to push its way past the blinds was the only thing reflecting off his green eyes. Her new position allowed him to rub his hand up and down her back slowly.
He would do anything to see inside that pretty little head of hers, to know what it was that made her finally drop her guard. Was there still something there? Something that was just as afraid as he was that they had lost everything between them. He slid his hand down and back up, but this time it was his hand against her skin as she slid between her shirt and warm skin. Sara sighed softly as she closed her eyes and pulled herself even closer to him. Her head tucked into his shoulder and his other arm slipping underneath her.
For the first time in days, she felt peaceful as she laid in the dark. Losing herself in his scent, his warmth… in the safest place in the world. She prayed it would be enough to keep the nightmares away as she closed her eyes and began to fall asleep.
The gun shook in her hands. Looking down the end of the barrel at Dean. He mirrored her stance, yet his hand was steady and calm. His face painted in anger… disgust.
"Dean… please." She whimpered. "I didn't mean to do it. I-I'm so sorry!"
"I hate you." He growled as he pulled the trigger.
Sara shot up out of Dean's hold with a gasp, spooking him awake as well.
"Sara?! What.. what is it?" He whispered as she breathed in and out rapidly, the both trying not to stir Sam awake.
"I-I'm fine." She lied as she pulled her knees to her chest. Dean reached up and cupped the side of her face in one of his large hands, pulling her to look at him but she only kept her eyes downward… not that it was easy to see her in the dark in the first place.
"Sara, talk to me."
"I'm fine. I just… I need a minute." She said pulling herself out of the sheets and walking into the bathroom. She shut the door behind her and ran the sink. Splashing cold water on her face. Just as she reached down into her bag at her feet to pull out the bottle of whiskey she had snuck into her toiletries Dean knocked and pulled the door open.
Sara didn't even bother trying to hide it as she opened it, stood facing away from him and took a long swig, letting it burn its way down as she twisted the cap back on and put it back in the bag. She knew he was there, she just didn't care at this point… she would do anything to stop herself from seeing it again. Sam's body in the floor, blood soaked into the carpet. Dean's pain and anger on his face… or worse, the nightmares where both of their bodies lay in the floor and she stands above them with the gun still in her hand.
"That doesn't make them go away." He said softly, knowing from personal experience.
"It's just a little night cap." She shrugged. "Helps me fall back asleep."
"Because you see the demon, or because you see Sam?" He asked bluntly as he crossed his arms. He knew the answer, but he wanted her to admit it out loud. To face it and start to let it go.
"Dean, please don't." She sighed leaning over the sink with a hand on either side.
Dean turned and closed the door, leaning against it with his shoulder as he watched her try to block his words out of mind.
"Sara… you have to talk about it. For real, not the dodging shit you gave him earlier. Or it's going to keep eating at you. You can't put this one in a box."
"Shut up." She replied as she forced herself to take two slow deep breaths with her eyes closed. When she felt like she had suppressed everything for the moment she stood and faced him. "Can we please go back to bed?"
"I don't know… can we?" He asked, saying more with his expression than his words.
"I'm going back to sleep." She said moving for the door knob, but Dean didn't lift his body off the door, he didn't even move to look at her now that she had stepped behind him. He simply sighed loudly and pulled his hand down his face.
"No. I don't think we are." He said as he turned and leaned his entire back against the door.
"Dean. Let me out."
"Grab me that bottle." He nodded towards her bag. She rolled her eyes but moved to grab it and shoved it at his chest. He took it calmly and slid down the door, opening it and throwing the cap in the trash. She watched as he took a gulp and then lifted it towards her. She stood with her arms crossed, confused at what game he was playing now. "Take it, take a seat… take a drink."
She stared at him, waiting for him to break first, but he didn't… so she snatched the bottle from him and sat across from him with her back against the bathtub. She tilted it up and took as much as she could in her mouth before letting it burn her from the inside.
Dean watched her face as she coughed slightly, nothing to chase down the sting. Then she handed it back to him… he took another drink in silence as she watched. Her eyes locked on his. Trying to prove a point, but he knew there was enough whiskey left in this bottle that she would drop her guard long before he became too drunk to have this conversation.
He handed it back, and they went on like this for several minutes. Sara determined to out drink and out stubborn him at the same time… unfortunately her tolerance with whiskey was much lower than she convinced herself it was and as her eyes began to look heavy Dean knew it was time to start pushing.
"You're gonna run out of whiskey." He told her as she took another large drink before leaning forward to hand it back to him.
"You're wasting your time." She retorted with a slur.
"I don't think I am… Sara, what is it that you think you're hiding so well?"
"None of your damn business."
"Hmm." He mused. "I think it is."
"I don't."
"I think that its our job to keep each other safe, and if we've got our head too far up our ass then we're not doing the other any favors. Putting them in danger really."
Sara's blood boiled, but this was what Dean wanted.
"Oh because you're so perfect." Sara nodded her head up and down.
"Are you angry with me for shooting you?" He asked bluntly, catching her off guard and unable to hide her shock to his question.
"No." She answered honestly. "I'm glad you did it. I could have killed him."
Her eyes watered as she let the words fill the air between them.
"But you didn't… you saved him Sara."
"I hurt him." She mumbled dragging her eyes to the floor.
"Won't be the last time either."
She again looked up to him confused.
"That's what family does Sara… they hurt you sometimes. But they also come through for you, they feel remorse when they hurt you or let you down. They apologize and they do better. But inevitably human beings always hurt each at some point or another. We're not perfect."
"… Do you hate me for it?" She whispered as her lip quivered. This time it was Dean who was surprised by her question. He spent all this time worried that she was the one who hated him.
"No. Sara, I don't. Not for a single second… It wasn't you. I knew that before you ever pulled the trigger."
"I hurt the most important person in the world to you… whether you want to feel it or not, you have to be angry about that."
"Do you honestly believe that? Is that why you've locked yourself up in that room? Because you thought I was mad at you?" Dean scoffed.
"Well Dean between that and the guilt that punches me in the gut every time I look at Sam, yeah… It was just easier to be alone." She slurred. He knew then that the walls were down.
Dean tipped the bottle to his lips, ready to drop a wall of his own.
"I thought you were afraid of me, of us."
"You and Sam are the only things left in the world that make me safe." She admitted out loud.
"You shouldn't feel guilty, Sara. Sam doesn't blame you… He's not upset with you at all. He's just worried about you."
"I blame me."
"Why?"
She reached for the bottle. Dean handed it over willingly, knowing at this point she might as well finish it off and get everything off her chest.
"I never listen to you… you tell me to stay put. To follow your lead. I always fight you on it, and look where it got us. I almost killed him… I could have killed you too. I had to be rescued from a damn truck driver. I should have listened to you, to Sam. None of it would have happened if I just did what I was told."
"You're probably also the reason we got the Siren. You probably stopped other men from being killed. Other girls from being in danger. Sara, shit happens. Why do you think Sam and I have died before? We've stabbed each other, shot at each other… hell a Siren was the reason he stabbed me."
"You never told me that…" She looked up at him with eyes that went straight to his soul. Eyes that weren't hiding anything, they were vulnerable.
"You never gave me a chance. From the moment you woke up, it was panic and then you just shut us out. Sam would have told you the same thing."
"I was trying to decide if I should leave on my own before you asked me to." She whispered.
"Sara I would never tell you to leave."
"Because I'm your back up angel grace."
"Because you are a part of this family now. A wise man once told me family don't end with blood."
Sara looked into his eyes and it took every bit of will power she had not to move towards him, wrap herself in his arms again and beg him to never move.
"The only family I ever had was Anna. She never hurt me."
"Not once? Never let you down… never did something that made you angry? Hurt your feelings a little?"
"… She never shot or stabbed me." Sara replied with a small shrug.
"Well. Our family is a little different than most to be fair." Dean chuckled. The sound of it filled her ears and seemed to lift some of the tension in the air. "Sara, you drunk yet?"
"I don't know… maybe." She replied while she crossed her arms.
"You gotta lay off the whiskey sweetheart, it makes you angry."
"It makes me sleep."
"Seems to make you forget things too."
Her eyes shot to his, her body frozen. Dean was just drunk enough to challenge her, to test her, to see if she would admit she remembered.
"Sometimes." Is all she said in reply. They sat staring at each other for a moment longer before Dean knew it was either make a move or leave it be for now.
He stood and reached down for her hands, pulling her to stand.
"Let's go to sleep."
Sara nodded before stumbling out of the bathroom and back to the bed in the dark. Dean kept a hand on her to keep her from tripping and landing in the floor. She laid down and pulled the blanket up around her as Dean settled into the bed beside her.
She stared at him in the dark, trying to determine his motive behind his statements about the whiskey. But she couldn't focus with face so closer to hers. Her legs wrapped in his. Dean was feeling the same pull between them, and knew that if she was using the whiskey as an excuse then surely, he could do the same… just this once.
He leaned up on his elbow and hovered over her, his hand reaching up and grazing his thumb across her bottom lip. Sara only lifted to meet him as his thumb slid down her jaw and he moved to press his lips to hers. He kissed her slowly, gently. It wasn't needy but it was just as filled with fire as every kiss before. Sara's arms wrapped themselves around his neck as she pulled herself closer to him.
He didn't break away this time, because she didn't push for more. She simply let herself take whatever he would give her. He melted himself against her in the dark, in the quiet where they both felt like the could hide from reality. Much too soon he pulled away from her, but he leaned his mouth against her ear as he pulled her to lay beside him again.
"Don't leave. Okay?" He whispered.
She turned and pressed her lips to his cheek for only a second or two before nodding up and down as she laid back down into his shoulder.
…..
…..
…..
Sam was the first one awake in the morning, he stretched and looked over as he sat up on the side of the bed. The sight of Sara and Dean in a tangle of limbs and sheets brought a smile to his face. Dean was right… they needed to take away her option to hide from them, because she would have never come out on her own.
He stood and went to the bathroom, pausing as he noted the almost empty bottle of whiskey in the floor. He peered back at the bed where they slept, and back down again trying to piece together what exactly it was he slept through last night. He shrugged it off and readied himself for the day before setting out to get coffee.
When he walked back in Sara was sitting up, Dean still laid down sleeping beside her while she rubbed her eyes.
"Hey." He smiled to her. "I brought coffee."
"Need. Coffee." She mumbled as she reached out her hand, he chuckled as he walked towards her. She accepted the cup gratefully and took slow sips. Sam moved to sit on the edge of the bed across from her.
"So, you look thoroughly hungover. Should I be worried?"
Sara looked up at him and smiled. Without a word she pulled herself off the bed and set her coffee on the night stand before walking towards him and sitting down on the bed beside him. He welcomed her with an open arm as she leaned into him and wrapped her arms around his long torso.
"No… you shouldn't because I feel bad as it is, I would feel worse knowing that you spend the day worried about me after I'm the one who almost killed you."
"Sara it wasn't your fault."
"I know… but I'll never forget the way the gun felt in my hand when I pulled that trigger and watched you hit the floor. Its engraved in my brain, and it hurts me every time I think about it. I can't just forget about it, its gonna take some time."
"That's okay, I just don't want you to have to do that alone. We're here for you, and you took a bullet too. Dean hated himself for that, but he knows it was the only chance he had at saving us both."
"I deserved that, Sam. I'm glad he pulled the trigger because it stopped me from making the worst mistake of my life… I would never survive this world knowing I'm the reason we lost you."
"But you didn't. You saved me, we're all here in one piece."
"I know." She sighed as she leaned into him again. He kissed the top of her head. She finally pulled away and went to shower. Spending an extra minute or two under the water remembering the way Dean held her, kissed her… the way he whispered in her ear.
She wasn't ready to give herself hope. She wasn't ready to let her thoughts run away, but for even a moment she wanted to just close her eyes and go back to that moment.
Dean was finally pulling himself awake, reaching over and finding the bed empty. He pulled awake to see Sam looking at him with a smirk on his face, the sound of the shower running in the bathroom. He raised one eyebrow towards his brother.
"What?"
"Whatever you did… do it more often."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
"I mean she woke up, talked to me about it, and even though she was obviously hungover she seemed better. A lot better." Sam raised an eyebrow back.
"Whiskey makes her angry. You make her angry and she can't help herself… she just needed to get it off her chest."
"Okay. Sure." Sam shrugged with a smug grin.
"Shut up, Sam." Dean said rolling his eyes as he stood and made his way towards the coffee.
"Have a drink last night yourself?"
"Can't waste good whiskey."
"Yeah, well we need to go by the police station this morning so don't smell like alcohol."
…..
…..
…..
"Hi, I'm detective Plant, this is detective Page and our intern." Dean said as he flashed a badge at the front desk. "We're here to see the chief about the recent murders."
"Oh, of course… follow me." The secretary smiled as she jumped and pulled the door open for them as she walked away from her desk.
"So this kind of thing happen a lot around here?" Sam asked as they walked.
"Oh, no sir… this is the first time we've seen anything like this. I know there were some odd livestock issues a couple of towns over, but no bodies."
"Yes, we'll be checking for a connection between the two." Dean nodded.
"Sir." She said as she poked her head into an office door. "The FBI are here to see you about the murders."
She nodded and then smiled waving them in, after they stepped in she closed the door softly before walking back to her desk.
"Hi. I'm Chief Benson." The man reached out and shook their hands one at a time, Sara lastly. "Well, that's quite a handshake for a lady if you don't mind me saying ma'am."
"Takes a strong grip to properly control your weapon." She smiled. Dean almost snorted at her words.
"That it does." The chief nodded as he sat against his desk. "So what can I do for you?"
"We're here about the murders. We need a copy of the files, and if there's any opinions you have that aren't written in there I'd love to hear them, anything weird or out of place that no one felt comfortable writing down."
"Marissa is already pulling together a copy of everything for you, but uh… I gotta say, now that you mention it I did find something kind of odd and out of place. Don't know why it stuck out really. Just a feeling."
"Go on." Sam encouraged.
"At the last crime scene there were a pair of sunglasses on the ground not far from the body."
"Why is that so odd?"
"Well… he was killed during the night. In a warehouse. Where it's been raining for the last two days." The chief then shrugged. "I don't know, its probably nothing but something about it just stuck with me. I don't really know why."
"Did you collect them as evidence?"
"No. There was junk all over that place… couldn't justify it as evidence."
"Okay. Anything else? Any of your guys talking about it?"
"Well everyone in town is talking about it. Vic wasn't well known. Kind of a loner, drug history… no family. So everyone's got a story. Drug deal gone bad, mafia or cartel ties, even a few who think it's a coverup for something at the old metal factory out there. Truth is though those warehouses are surrounded by wilderness and the animals got to him before we did. Did a number on the body, so its hard to say what really happened."
"Yikes." Sara groaned at the thought.
"Well, I think that's all we need for now. I appreciate your help." Dean said nodding as the he opened the door for Sara and Sam to step out, he followed behind them as the walked down the hall.
"Well. Vamp probably tore his neck up, most rural towns like this blame it on the wildlife." Sam mumbled.
"Yeah, I hate to say it but we should probably see the body while we're in town."
"Ughhh… Do we have to?" Sara groaned.
"Sara?" A voice called from behind them. One Sam and Dean didn't recognize.
… but Sara did, and it caused her to freeze, her eyes wide. She was afraid to turn around. Dean turned to look at the cop walking towards them.
"Sara is that you?" He called again. Sara knew then she had to turn around.
"Lee." She smiled tightly as she stepped forward a foot or two. Her hand however gripped Dean's arm with a force that set him on edge. She was scared. He began scanning the room… noting the number of armed people in the building and the nearest exit.
"What are you doing here?" He asked suspiciously as he stood in front of her, crossing his arms and looking between the men behind her.
"Just. Working, looking into the murders." She admitted. Knowing that he could blow their cover right here right now if she didn't play nicely, and the bastard would just to watch her squirm.
"A nurse? Investigating murders?" He questioned. Sam knew then this was someone from her past, someone who knew her, someone who would know she wasn't with the FBI at all.
"The bureau has programs for consultants to work as interns. Medical consultants aren't uncommon.?" Sam interrupted.
"So, you expect me to believe that the only nurse I knew who couldn't be in the same room as a dead body is out here investigating a murder with the FBI?" He challenged. His tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek. Sam did his best to hide his annoyance at the man's cocky tone.
"Lee. Please." Sara said moving towards him, letting go of Dean's arm. He had to hold himself back from grabbing her and placing himself between her and whoever the hell this guy thinks he is. "Just leave it alone, we're leaving. Okay?"
"No… I don't think I will baby. Why don't uh, you step in here and talk to me for a minute." He insisted as he pulled her towards an empty office beside them.
Dean reached out and put a hand on her shoulder.
"Oh I don't think so." He told the man with a smile on his face. "She's not going anywhere with you."
"Is that so? Well then maybe you'd rather explain this to Chief Benson?"
"Lee. Stop…" Sara sighed, then she turned to Dean. "It's fine. I'm just going to talk to him."
Dean didn't answer her, but he could read the fear in her eyes. Finally she pulled away and Lee held out his arm as she stepped forward and he placed it on the small of her back as he led her in. She flinched noticeably at his touch, setting Dean's blood to a boil before he closed the door behind them.
"Who the fuck is this guy?!" Dean whisper yelled to Sam as He perched himself outside the door.
"I have a hunch, and I don't like it." Sam huffed, just as irritated but knowing that if they didn't place this with a cool head then they would all be in an interrogation room within an hour.
"He has two fucking minutes before I go in."
Sara stepped in and leaned against the wall. The office lacked any furniture other than a couple of book shelves on the back wall. Lee leaned forward with a hand on either side of her.
"Well baby, you gonna tell me what you're doing here?"
"Don't call me that."
He grabbed her chin in a rough grip.
"I'll call you whatever I want. Tell me what you're doing here or I'll lock those pretty boys up for everything I can find to pin on them. Got a bag of pills I just plucked off some kid."
"Leave them out of this."
"Tell me why you're here."
"I already did." She sighed. "We're looking into the murders… I- l left Colorado. I wanted to start over, so I was trying something new. Trying to face my fears."
"You left Colorado? You expect me to believe you left behind the job you put before us and that bitch of a friend who never left us alone?"
Sara looked up at him with anger in her eyes, they swelled with emotion. A tear spilling over as she fought to get the words past her lips.
"Anna is dead. That's why I left."
It was believable. She knew that… it was honestly the only story he would possibly buy into.
"Ohhhh, I see." He nodded up and down. He moved closer to her, his face next to hers. "I'm sorry baby. I know how much that must have hurt you."
Sara cringed at his breath on her ear, his lips trailing across her cheek.
"Lee stop." She pulled away, moving towards the door.
"Get back here." He grabbed her by the arm and twisted, causing her to gasp softly. She knew she couldn't make a sound or Dean would barge in and make this so much worse.
"I told you what you wanted to know."
"You know I lost my job cause of your little friend… she wrote a letter to the department. I was fired. Chased out of town. Had to run out here to the middle of no where to find a department that was too short on cops to go digging into my past."
"That's not my fault."
"Yet… here you are. You here to fuck things up for me all over again? Or are you ready to come back. I know you miss me as much as I've missed you baby. Come home with me."
"No." She gulped.
At that moment there was a rough knock on the door.
"Sara, we got a job to do." Dean spoke against the door.
"Well." Lee chuckled in her face. "Little boyfriend out there come to rescue you, huh?"
"He's not my boyfriend. We're just working the case together." She replied with a stone cold face, needing him to believe it.
"Sara." Dean knocked a little harder.
Lee reached over and twisted the knob, opening the door. Dean stepped in and his eyes landed on Sara pressed against the wall, white knuckles at her side. He moved towards her as Lee stepped back.
"I guess I'll see you later baby." He winked as he walked out of the office door.
"Sara, what the hell was that?" Dean asked as he reached up to grab her face softly, but she flinched away from his touch.
"Can we please get the fuck out of here."
"Yeah." He nodded. "Let's go."
He didn't touch her but followed her closely as Sam led them out the door, Sara between the two of them until they got back in the car. Sara moved to sit in the backseat but Sam pushed her to the front seat and took her spot in the back, standing at her door until she sat down and then closing it behind her before getting in himself, taking one more look back at the station where Lee was now perched outside, watching them.
Dean also spotted their little stalker and was sure to pull out in a direction that allowed him to pass right by while Dean smiled back to him out the driver side window. Lee fisted his hands as Dean went past him.
"Sara, is that who I think it is?" Sam asked leaning forward.
"Yes." She answered bluntly, staring out the windshield.
"Someone wanna fill me in, here?" Dean asked slightly irritated that he didn't know.
"Lee is my ex. The cop…"
Dean slammed on the breaks and pulled off to the side of the road.
"Dean what the hell!" Sara yelled, Sam echoing her.
Then Dean slammed it in reverse and flung the car back in the direction of the police station.
"Dean! Stop!" Sara yelled as he punched the gas.
"Did he just put his hands on you?" Dean asked, far too calmly. She opened her mouth but nothing came out, she couldn't force her brain to form words.
"Dean. Stop… We can't go back to the damn police station." Sam demanded.
Dean slammed on the breaks again. This time parking the car. He took in a deep breath as he angrily tapped his foot. Trying to force himself to calm down.
Sara sat in her seat, her hands shaking… swallowing around the lump in her throat. He turned to look at her and realized he was only upsetting her more. He leaned his head back and put the car in drive once more, turning back towards their hotel. Letting himself and Sara both calm down before speaking again.
"Sara." Dean asked again. "Did he put his hands on you in that office?"
"I'm not answering anymore questions that may or may not get you arrested." She mumbled.
"Please, just tell me."
"Sure, on the way home."
"Sara." Sam interrupted. "If you don't tell him, he'll make up something worse in his head. Please. Just. Tell us what happened."
"He didn't hit me."
"And the red mark on your arm?" Dean asked.
"…Yes. He grabbed me." Sara rolled her eyes as she admitted. "It's fine Dean, I'm okay."
"I'm gonna rip his lungs out."
"Dean please." Sara turned towards him in the seat, sitting up on one of her legs as it crossed underneath her. "I don't want to go back there. I don't ever want to see him again. Can we please just find this nest and go home?"
Dean looked down between her red arm and her face as it begged him to just keep driving, he leaned forward and turned up the radio. Done discussing the matter… he did however throw his arm over the back of the seat behind her.
Sam suggested they go back to the motel and regroup, decide if they can finish the case and avoid the police at the same time, or if they needed to just leave and call in another hunter or two.
Dean parked the car and everyone began to climb out, as they walked forward toward their door Dean stepped in front of Sara, pulling her eyes up towards him.
"Sweetheart." He said calm and gentle. "Is that all he did, really?"
"Other than lean his body over me and touch my face yeah… that's the only thing he did to hurt me."
Dean then understood why she flinched when he went to touch her face immediately after. He sighed and tilted his head back before looking back down at her, at the red spot on either side of her chin where he must have grabbed her face. He reached up and softly rubbed the same spot. Sara closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, then laid her head against his chest.
"Sara. I'm making you a promise right here, right now. If he ever lays a hand on you again, I will kill him."
"… I know."
