Hi, guys. How's been your week so far? Are you excited about the upcoming series finale? I sure am :)))
Anyway, here's the new chapter. Happy reading! :)


I realize how quiet everything is. No cries, no thuds, and...

It's just me, Ben, and the dead monster. The boy looks at me and nods in content.

The silence is almost deafening. I startle when a loud bang on the metal door echoes through the room.

"Braeden! Ben!" Dean and Sam peek through the small windows of the door, "You all right?"

"We're fine" I reassure them as they step back so we can open the flying door, "Give us a minute to clear the way" I look at Ben and whisper, "Not a word to them! You hear me? Not a word about the curse! I need to talk to you first. Alone."

I can see he's ready to argue. It's in his eyes, in his expression and tensed shoulders.

"Please."

Finally, he nods. I sigh in relief, rush to unlock the door, and move the trolley I pulled in front of it less than five minutes ago. Sam and Dean burst in, holding guns and knives, ready for a fight.

"What happened?" Sam looks around, his hazel eyes checking all the spell ingredients on the table behind us.

"The moron tried to curse us" I shake my head as Dean examines Ben and me critically, "We're fine, Dean" I offer him a small smile, "We're both fine. I promise. I ganked him before he could actually do something."

Ben casts me a disapproving look and sarcastically chips in.

"Yeah, villains and their monologues."

"Let's get out of here" Sam looks around one last time before heading upstairs.

Ben and Dean follow him.

"Just..." I hesitate for a second, " Just give me a minute, okay?"

Dean eyes me cautiously, then nods and leads Ben out. The boy looks at me over his shoulder, as if to make sure I won't do something stupid. I scoff, and the moment their footsteps completely fade, I swing open the locker. The Styne boy tumbles forward, landing on his four, next to Eldon's corpse. His glasses fall.

"No, no, no, no, no, don't! Don't!" he cowers before me, sheer panic in his words.

"I'm not gonna kill you," I say and arch my brows, but the kid so freaked he doesn't realize what I'm saying.

"No. No, I'm not like them!" he shrieks, "Okay, I hate my family! See, look!" he tries to pull up his shirt, his hands trembling, "No stitches! I'm not like them, I promise."

"Kid..." I try again, but he gabbles.

"I'll do anything you want. Okay, please. You don't need to do this." He is on the verge of crying, "Please."

I roll my eyes, grab him for the shirt, and slam him against the lockers next to us. His eyes widen in horror.

"I'm not gonna hurt you!" I sigh and release him, "I'm not here to kill you, silly boy."

"What... Why..." he stammers, still in shock.

"Why I'm not gonna kill you?" I chuckle dryly, "I might be a killer, but I'm not a complete monster."

He nods, relief visible all over his pale face. I pick up his glasses and carefully put them on his nose.

"I saw your to-go bag. You better have everything there. You're gonna need it." I look around for something to write on, pull a book from the table, and quickly scribble the info of my contacts on the first page, "Here. That's some useful stuff. L.A.'s big. Tell them all Braeden Singer sends you. They'll take care of you" I shove the torn page in his hands, "They'll help you settle. They own me big, all of them, so... You're gonna be safe. My phone's on the bottom."

I head for the door. I can tell the kid is completely dumbfounded. I shake my head and refuse to look at the table. At the ingredients. In the short time, I knew Eldon Styne, I knew he was completely and absolutely sure of this spell. Being a thorough murderer as him, I know it in my bones, his curse is real. And there's not a thing I can do about it.

"Do you..." I hear Cyrus's hesitant voice, so I turn to him, "Don't you want me to help you break the curse? I know my brother, I bet there's..."

"No, kid." I shake my head, "You heard him. Try and work around it, someone I care about dies. It's not worth it." I go to the door and look behind my shoulder, " If I were you, I'd burn this place to the ground before I go."

The sight on the other side of the door is not a nice one. The Stynes are scattered all around, glassy open eyes, limbs bent in strange angles, cuts and stab wounds all over their bodies. There's blood everywhere, puddles and spatters all around, its familiar scent filling the air. I refuse to look around for Monroe Styne, I just want to get out of here.

"Wait!" Cyrus catches up with me, so I stop once again and arch a brow at him, "Why are you doing this? Why are you helping me?"

"Because I know a monster when I see it. And you're none of it."


"You gotta tell them!" Ben exclaims in exasperation.

We're in his room, it's late, I'm so exhausted I can barely stand. But at the first opportunity, Ben dragged me away from Sam, Dean, and Kevin so we could talk.

"I'm telling them shit." I scoff.

"But..."

"No!" I hiss, " You heard him, Ben. Anyone who tries to lift it will die. I can't risk it." I shake my head, " I can't risk you, or Sam and Dean get hurt! Or Kevin, Jody, or..." I squeeze his shoulders hoping to make him understand, "I know it's a lot to ask. But no one should know about this. No one. Not even them. Especially them." I nod towards the door, where down the hall the Winchesters and Kevin are finishing their late dinner.

"You're dying. He put you a death curse!"

"Yeah, I know. I was there, Ben."

"The only reason I didn't shoot him was because I thought that..." he raises his hands in irritation.

"What?" I ask, "You thought what?"

"You'd get him to talk. To lift the curse! And only then kill him."

I blink in shock and take a step back. The kid did it for me, he thought he'd help. He'd save me. Tears prick in my eyes as I sigh.

"Oh, Ben... I didn't... I..." my voice cracks, "I don't know what to..." I meet his eyes and quietly say, "Sometimes life sucks and there's nothing we can do about it. No matter how hard we try."

"So you'll just give up!? You'll let him win?"

"I win, Ben. I win because Dean, Sam, and you are safe. Like everybody else, I care about. It's a hell of a win. Because surprisingly, the people I care about are more than I can count on both of my hands."

"It's not a win if it costs you your life! You're dying, Braeden! And they deserve the truth!" Ben points to the door "You must tell them."

"No," I shake my head, "Not in a million years. You know them. You know your father." the kid trembles realizing I'm talking about Dean, "They'll do anything to save me. I won't let them get hurt because of me."

"You. Are. Dying." Ben emphasizes every single word, "Literary. Your body is slowly dying. You don't know how much time you've got. But I remember everything on that table. Every single ingredient. I even remember part of the words. If you just..."

"No, Ben. No! Stop it!" I gasp at him trying to contain my tears, the crippling fear, "Do you think I wanna die? 'Cause, believe me, I don't. But if my life is the cost for all of your safety, I'll pay it. Gladly. And without a second thought. Remember that."

"Braeden..."

"I mean it. I really do." I say, "Now promise me to keep your mouth shut."

"Braeden, it's not right."

"Please, Ben. I'm begging here."

Ben sighs deeply, his dark eyes boring into mine, his shoulders sink, and then he nods his agreement. I release a breath I don't realize I've been holding.

"Thank you." I head to the door, my hand reaching for the handle.

"I thought you didn't care about me." Ben states and when I turn, there is a small smile playing on his lips, "In the hospital, you said you wouldn't care if I died."

"And I thought you hated me."

"Yeah, well.." he shrugs nonchalantly, yet his eyes are warm, "I might've been an ass."

I grunt in amusement.

"And I might have lied."


I quietly walk towards my room, my steps echoing through the empty halls. The bunker is covered in silence, the boys are already in their beds. After the heated talk with Ben, I needed some space, little time to calm myself down, to clear my mind. I hid in the garage and spent who knows how many hours staring at the ceiling, plopped at the hood of the Impala.

I sigh as I enter my room only to find Dean waiting for me there. Since we became a thing we never really slept alone. But neither of us actually moved their belongings to the other's room. It was a topic I wanted to discuss with him, but now I see no point. Soon he'll have to pack my things because I will be... Well, dead. Why bother at all?...

"Braeden?" Dean sets aside his laptop and sits in my bed, "Where have you been?"

"I needed a breather." my eyes fly to my nightstand and the clock there, "Oh, God, you waited for me all this time? It's four in the morning! Have you slept at all?"

"An all-nighter is nothing new for me," Dean smiles as I reach for my toothbrush.

I can see him in the mirror as I brush my teeth and wash my face. He's still with his clothes on. There's concern in his green eyes, the tension in his shoulders. And guilt washes upon me as I realize I'm the reason for his discomfort and worry. I quickly pull on an old T-shirt and sit next to him on the bed, taking his legs in my lap, untying his boots.

"I'm sorry," I whisper, "I didn't mean to worry you." I put the shoes on the ground and proceed in peeling off his clothes, leaving him in his t-shirt and boxers; I can feel his eyes on me.

"What's bothering you?" Dean makes me look at him, his finger under my chin, "Why did Ben drag you to his room?"

"He's warming up to me." I force a tight smile.

He doesn't believe me. And why should he? I'm lying through my teeth.

"What happened there? With Styne?"

"I already told you."

"You fed us facts. I know you. That's not all." Dean's eyes are pleading me, his warm hands gently holding my shoulders, "Is it because you made him talk? The..."

"Torture, Dean." I pull away from him and immediately miss his warmth, "You can say it. Torture. I tortured him." I huff in annoyance and glare at him, "It's not the first time I've done it. Not the last, either. No big of a deal."

"Braeden..." there's plea in his voice, concern, pain.

"You don't know what I've done!" his eyes widen at my outburst, "What I'm capable of. What I did to get to you in Purgatory." I spit the words at him, and I hate myself for attacking him like this, even though it's the only thing I know will distract him from the truth, "I never told you about the bloody trail of mutilated bodies I left behind me. About all the blood and violence. About all the death. I was up to my knees in this shit. So trust me when I tell you I can handle little torture here and there."

I step away, turning my back to him. I can't face him, ashamed of what I've done. My heart aches, bile rises in my stomach. I hate myself for doing this, for yelling at him for no other reason than the need to distract him. To put his mind on another track. A deep, shaky sigh escapes me.

"Hey," Dean gently makes me face him, "It's okay. It's okay. Just tell me what's wrong?" his soothing words, his touch sends me on the verge of crying, "What can I do to help?"

"Just hold me. Please, hold me."

He wraps me in his embrace, his strong arms caressing my back. Dean guides me to the bed, within seconds we are both under the sheets, cuddled next to each other, his hands wrapped tightly around me. I slowly relax, hiding my face into his chest. The steady beat of his heart is like a lullaby for my troubled mind. I feel safe and wanted and cared for. As the sleep slowly overtakes me, I hold on to him for dear life. There, in the arms of the man I love, the one I'm ready to die for, to sacrifice everything I have, everything I am, I finally find some peace and drift off into the empty embrace of darkness and nightmares.


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