A/N: Sorry, updates are going to be a little bit sketchy for a while. I've gotten really busy lately, but I won't stop writing. Just bear with me. Thanks for your continued support.

Chapter 20: An Endless Cycle

It has been nearly a day since Sam died. I sit outside the abandoned house, staring out into the woods. I stopped crying hours ago, but my sides are still sore. A hard knot has formed in my stomach and, even now, refuses to go away. Every time I start to try to process what happened, I'm overcome with either grief or guilt. Bobby and I decided to take turns staying at the house, we needed food and supplies, but neither of us thought Dean should be alone. Right now, Bobby is off getting food and I needed to be anywhere but inside that house. I don't think Dean has moved since we got here. He hasn't said anything either, not to me and not to Bobby. Part of me wishes he would let us help, but the other part of me, the part that has been where he is, knows he won't. It feels like no one can help, that nothing can make it better. I wish I could say that was entirely untrue. I pull my jacket tighter as a chilling breeze picks up. It seems as though the weather itself is mirroring the emotions around this abandoned house. I look down at my phone, remembering the absolute lie I told Mike when he called to check on me. I told him everything was fine, but I wouldn't be back for a couple of days. Everything is most certainly not fine and I have no idea when I'll head back to Wichita. When I get back, I'll tell him everything. The pain is still too new right now, too new to give him all of the details he needs to know. Knowing I'm fine is good enough for now. Fine. I guess even that is a lie. Unharmed, uninjured, alive, but I'm far from fine.

Bobby soon pulls up, getting out of his truck with a bucket of fried chicken. He offers me some, but I tell him I'm not hungry. The truth is I don't have much of an appetite right now. I think he knows that.

"You going to be okay?" he asks.

"Yeah, eventually."

He nods and looks at the door of the house.

"I'm gonna try to talk to Dean. See if I can...I dunno, get through to him a bit."

I look at him, frowning ever so slightly.

"I doubt you'll be able to, but, good luck anyways. I hope you can."

"You think so?"

I sigh, to myself mostly, "I just- I know what he's going through is all."

I wring my hands together in my lap. With a solemn nod, Bobby enters the house. Some people are able to handle grief better than others, I suppose. Compartmentalize it, at least.

Only a few minutes have passed when Bobby comes out of the house. I look up from my lap when he walks over. The dejected look on his face tells me how his talk with Dean went.

"Look, something big is going down, soon, probably. I need to find out what it is, but...Dean shouldn't be alone-"

"Definitely not," I agree.

"You can try to talk to him if you want, but I'd give him a little bit. I really could use some help on this, whatever it ends up being. I might end up giving Mike a call, see if he knows anything. If you can, having both of you up in Sioux Falls would be a real help."

"Yeah, of course. Just...don't tell Mike about all of this," I say, gesturing to the house. "I sort of told him everything was okay. I'll tell him the truth, I just...couldn't right now."

"Sure. You take care, then, and I'll see you soon," Bobby says, walking over to his truck.

"You too," I say, giving him a weak smile.

I sit outside the house for hours, watching the sun sink well below the line of trees. I want to talk to Dean, but I can't figure out what to say. Unfortunately, that means thinking back to when I was in his place. I try to remember what people said to me that actually sunk in. The list is very short, but it's the best I've got. More than likely, this isn't going to end well. There's no one to blame if it doesn't, so I have to at least try. I get up off the porch and make my way into the house as quietly as I can. The last thing I want to do is startle Dean if he thinks I already left. When I get inside, I hear Dean talking softly in the other room. I immediately sit down in a chair by the door.

"I always tried to protect you...keep you safe. Dad didn't even have to tell me, it was always my responsibility, you know? It's like I had one job...I had one job. And I screwed it up."

Dean's voice quivers and I start to tear up. His words seem oddly familiar, though I know I never had a vision about this.

"I blew it. And for that I'm sorry."

There is a long pause before Dean starts to talk again. When he starts, his voice is shaky and uneven.

"I guess that's what I do, I let down the people I love. I let Dad down...and now I guess I'm supposed to let you down, too. How can I- how am I supposed to live with that?"

His voice goes so soft that I can't make out what he is saying now. I get up from the chair and go back out on the porch, feeling like I never should have heard any of that.

A few seconds later, I hear a loud banging noise from inside the house and heavy footsteps on the wood floor. The door swings open, slamming into the outer wall. Dean storms out of the house, but stops in his tracks when he sees me.

"Lara-"

"Dean…" I say softly.

"What are you doing here?"

"Bobby didn't want you to be alone...I didn't want you to be alone."

"Thanks, but you can leave now," he says flatly.

I lock eyes with him. He hasn't left this house in over a day and now, all of a sudden, he's storming out. After what I just heard, it's easy to see this isn't good.

"I don't think I should."

His jaw tightens and his eyes dart away from mine.

"Dean, please, I know what this kind of crap does to people. Just- just, please, think about Sam before-"

"I am thinking about Sam," he says harshly.

"Are you?" I snap back.

Even in the darkness, I can see his eyes glisten with tears. Something seems to snap inside of him for a moment.

"I can't just let him die...I can't," he says softly.

There is a familiar look of desperation and grief in his eyes. It's a look I have seen exactly once before, but not from him. I step aside and he walks quickly to the Impala. I watch as he tears out onto the road, the taillights of the Impala disappearing into the darkness moments later.

I walk inside the house and sit down in the same chair, feeling sick to my stomach. I double over and press my face into my hands. My sides burn as I start to cry again. What Dean left to do is no mystery to me. I want to blame myself for not doing more to stop him, but I know nothing I could have done would have made a difference. I hope to God I am wrong, but I already know I'm not. All of the times I had the vision and never once did I think it would go this far. I sit in the chair, all of these things crowding my mind at once, and lose my sense of time. The only tell of time I have is the gradual loss of feeling in my legs and growing ache in my back from sitting in one position for too long. I jolt up straight when I hear a gasp come from the other room. Despite the pain in my back and legs, I stand up. My heart sinks when I realize what just happened. I use the sleeve of my jacket to dry my eyes and walk over to the source of the noise. I stand in the open doorway of the room. Sam is sitting up on a bed in the middle of the room.

Sam looks around, appearing to be very confused. He looks over to me, his brow furrowing.

"Lara? What's going on? Where's Dean?"

My face flushes as I fumble with how to respond.

"Whoa, relax. Everything's fine. Dean- just went out for a second. He should be back soon."

I hate lying to him, but I don't want him to panic after all he just went through. I certainly don't have the heart to tell him where I think Dean really is. He looks me in the eye and frowns.

"Why were you crying? What's wrong?"

Damn.

"I just- we thought you weren't going to make it. That wound was pretty bad. But, you're okay now. That's all that matters."

I want to be happy that he's alive, I am, but I also can't stop thinking about the only reason he is. Sam gets up from the bed and goes over to an old mirror on the wall. There is a massive blood stain in the spot where he was lying on the bed and on his shirt, where he got stabbed. He winces in pain as he pulls his shirt up to look at his back. The wound has healed significantly, but still looks fresh. Thank God, or Sam wouldn't believe I damn thing I just said. A few moments later, the front door of the house clicks open. I step out of the doorway of the room and lock eyes with Dean as he enters. I'm not sure what my expression says to him. I don't even think there is a clear expression that would convey all of the emotions within me at this moment. He quickly looks away from me and steps into the room where Sam is.

"Sammy? Thank God," he breathes.

"Hey…" Sam says.

Dean walks up to Sam and hugs him tightly, causing Sam to wince in pain.

"Ow, Dean."

"Sorry, I'm sorry man. I just- I'm just happy to see you up and around, that's all," Dean says, releasing him. "Come on, sit down."

I lean against the door frame as they both sit down. Sam looks up at me and then to Dean.

"Dean, what happened to me?"

I don't expect Dean to tell him the truth, so mostly I'm curious to see what Dean comes up with.

"Well, what do you remember?" Dean asks.

"I saw you, Lara, and Bobby and then I felt this pain...This sharp pain, like, white hot, you know? And then you started running at me and...that's about it."

The images, still fresh in my mind, seem to flash before my eyes like a cruel mirror of my past.

"Yeah...that kid stabbed you in the back. You lost a lot of blood, you know, it was pretty touch and go for a while."

"But, Dean, you can't patch up a wound that bad."

"No, Bobby could."

Sam seems to believe Dean, for now. But he's smart, it's only a matter of time before he finds out Dean is lying. I don't add anything, even though Dean looks back at me a few times while he talks to Sam. I already covered his ass enough.

Once he's done lying about how Sam is alive, Dean starts up with questions. This whole time we had no idea where Sam was or what was happening. I am curious too. Even in my visions I only saw Sam get stabbed, that and the demon, but never why that guy stabbed him.

"Who was that kid, anyway?" Dean asks.

"His name's Jake. Did you get him?" Sam answers eagerly.

"No, he disappeared into the woods."

"We gotta find him, Dean, and I swear I'm going to tear that son of a bitch apart," Sam says angrily.

He starts to get up, Dean trying to stop him. His sudden anger alarms me, but, then again, we still don't know the whole story.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, easy Van Damme. You just woke up, all right? Let's get you something to eat, huh. You want something to eat?"

Sam nods.

"I'm starving, come on."

Sam starts to explain what happened in Cold Oak before we got there. He and Dean start to eat some of the food that we amassed, but I find I still don't have an appetite. Sam tells us about all of the people that showed up, people with abilities. When he starts to explain that the people had been showing up there for months in groups, I stop him.

"Wait, so you're saying that this was some sort of special children battle royale?" I cut in.

"Yeah, sort of."

"And the yellow-eyed demon was bringing in all of the people with abilities?"

"Yeah, all the ones who were still alive."
"But, you and the others you were with, you were it?"

"I think so...wait, that means-"

I smile for the first time in what seems like forever. Finally a piece of decent news, I wouldn't necessarily call it "good."

"Did I miss something?" Dean asks after we both don't say anything else.

"It means you and Sam were wrong about me."

Dean still looks confused.

"I'm not like Sam. I'm not one of the special children. I didn't get pulled into that crap- thank God- so that means my visions didn't come from the demon."

"So, then where did they come from?" Dean asks.

"I don't know. Maybe I am just psychic. That's...comforting, I guess. More comforting than being chosen by a demon for...whatever."

Sam continues to tells us about the fates of everyone else who was with him. Until his story crosses what we already know.

"-and that's when you guys showed up."

"That's awful. Poor Andy," Dean says about other guy they knew.

"The demon said he only wanted one of us to walk out alive," Sam adds.

"He told you that?" Dean asks.

"Yep. He appeared in a dream."

"He tell you anything else?"

"No, no. That was it, nothing else," Sam says, looking at Dean. "You know, what I don't get, Dean, is that if the demon only wanted one of us, then how did Jake and I both get away?"

Strike one for Dean's lies. Dean hesitates for a second before responding to Sam.

"Well, I mean, they left you for dead. I'm sure they thought it was over," Dean says, turning away from Sam to eat his slice of pizza.

"So, now that yellow eyes has Jake, what's he gonna do with him?" Dean asks, looking back at Sam.

"I don't know. But, whatever it is, we gotta stop it."

"Hold on, all right? You need to get your rest. We got time."
"No, we don't," Sam objects.

"Sam, oceans aren't boiling, okay? Frogs aren't raining from the sky. Let's get you your strength back first," Dean says firmly, raising his voice.

I know that tone, that's the "worried older brother" tone. Dean certainly is selling the Sam actually being close to death story. What Dean actually did is permanent, Sam isn't in any danger. He's fine, fine now that he isn't dead. Sam looks away from Dean.

"Did you call the Roadhouse? Do they know anything?" Sam asks.

This strikes a chord with Dean and me, we both look at one another.

"Yeah," Dean says looking down at the floor, frowning.

"Dean..what is it?" Sam asks, watching our reactions.

Dean sits down across from him at the small, wooden table.

"The Roadhouse...burned to the ground. Ash is dead, probably Ellen- a lot of other hunters, too."

I can see that Sam is close to tears when he responds, "Demons?"

"Yeah, demons," I respond. "That's when I met up with Dean and Bobby. I had a vision early that morning. I tried to get there, to warn people, but I was already too late."

"Why?" Sam asks.

"We think because Ash found something," Dean answers.

"What did he find?"

"Bobby's working on that right now."

"Well, come on, then. Bobby's only a few hours away," Sam says, starting to get up.

He grimaces in pain as he gets to his feet. Dean shoots up and tries to stop him.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Stop, Sam, stop! Damn it. You almost died in there. I mean- what would I have-"

I glance sideways at Dean, trying not to draw too much attention to his words. He and Sam lock eyes for a few moments, Sam looking slightly uncomfortable.

"Can you just take care of yourself for a little bit, huh? Just for a little bit," Dean pleads with Sam.

"I'm sorry. No," Sam says, still looking Dean straight in the eye.

We start to gather a few things and I finally convince Sam to sit back down and finish eating. Of course, I only want him to do that for one reason, but I can't make it too obvious. I haul a bag out to my car and when I come back Dean is also inside. Sam starts to get up again.

"Sam, just, please, sit down for a little, okay? Dean can help me take this stuff out just fine. Right, Dean?" I say, looking him dead in the eye.

Dean pauses for a moment and then picks up another bag.

"Yeah. Right."

We walk out to the cars, putting plenty of distance between us and the front door. I drop my bag pointedly, gathering the courage to give him a piece of my mind only as I turn my back to him.

"How long?" I ask.

"What do you-?"

I wheel around, glaring at him.

"Don't you dare play dumb with me, Dean, not about this."

His eyes widen at my tone and I see his face flush white.

"How long did you get?"

He is unable to look me in the eye as he responds.

"One year," he says, almost inaudibly.

"What?"

"One year, okay, one year."

This time it's my face that flushes of all color. My mouth actually starts to fall open before I clench my jaw tight and look away from him. I can feel myself fighting back tears, both of grief and anger. Though I knew what he did, hearing just how far he went takes me aback. I stand there, unable to even form the words I want to say.

"Lara, I had no choice-"

"Of course you had a choice! I told you, Dean, I told you to think about Sam, but you didn't."

"And I told you I was thinking about Sam!"

"Oh, were you? Because from where I'm standing, what you did was the most selfish thing you could have possibly done."

He looks frustrated with my words, probably because they're true. But I continue anyway.

"Sure, you thought about saving Sam's life, I get that. But did you even stop to think about how he's going to feel? How he's going to react when he knows he's going to lose you in a year? Not just die, either, go to Hell. Suffer, for all eternity, in Hell...for him?"

Dean stands there, looking almost dumbfounded.

"You may not understand how that feels. But I do. Having someone you care about, someone you've looked up to for your whole life, die for you...suffer for you. Forever. It hurts, Dean, and it never stops hurting. And you never stop blaming yourself."

Dean clenches his jaw, "I do know."

It is then I remember what he told me about his dad.

"And now Sam gets to know that pain, too," I say flatly.

"Please, don't tell him."

"Oh, I wouldn't dream of it. This was your decision, I'm not doing the hard part for you. But, he needs to hear it from you. It'll make it hurt a little less than from someone else, believe me."

I have to keep up my facade of anger or I fear I might break down.

"I'll help you find this asshole that killed Sam, but, then, I'm out. I'm done."

"Done? Done with what? Hunting?"

"Done hunting with you. Done with...this," I say waving my hand between us.

"Lara-"

"No. You crossed a line, Dean, and I'm not willing to follow. I can't-"

I stop for fear of being overwhelmed. I open the car door and throw the bag in the backseat. I walk past Dean and back into the house, where Sam is still sitting at the table, none the wiser.