AUTHORS NOTE:
This is the sequel to "THE EVIL INSIDE". PLEASE read it first.
I do not own any characters from Supernatural and I am not making any money off of this work.
PROLOGUE:
I wished that I could say that everything was ok after that night. That my life wasn't turned upside down. But the thing is, the pain and the shame of what happened wasn't just mine. Sam, Dean, and even Bobby, to an extent, felt it too. I couldn't tell mom what happened and I couldn't bring myself to step foot in that bar again, so Bobby offered to put me and the boys up at his place until we healed. And also found the bitch that caused all of this in the first place. I don't think any of us would recover until she was gone.
Being cooped up in a house full of guys was bad enough. But being cooped up in house full of guys that walked on egg shells around me was intolerable. No, it was worse than that! It was... torture! I wanted to just forget. To start living again. But Dean hovered over me like I was incapable of doing anything on my own. Other than showering and dressing myself, he insisted on doing everything for me. And Bobby never said more than five words to me at a time for fear that he would say something that would send me into hysterical sobs. And Sam?...
Sam was another story entirely. Sam was drowning. Drowning in the memories of what that demon did to me using his body. His hands. His... I wish that I could do something... anything to help. But he shut me out. Hell! He shut everyone out. He never spoke. Not one word since that night. I stood outside his door more times than I can count in the first few weeks after that night, but I could never make myself knock or call out to him.
He hardly ever came out of his room. And when he did, it was only to use the bathroom or grab his plate of food from the kitchen table at meal times. I guess I should be glad that he wasn't starving himself out of grief. The few times I would see him in the hall and his eyes would accidentally meet mine, they would seem to look right through me. Then his weary eyes would quickly shift to the floor as he slid passed me. It was like he was trying to pretend that I didn't exist so he didn't have to deal with the pain.
But the nights were the worst. For all of us. When I wasn't being woken from my own nightmares, I was woken by the horrible nightmares of the youngest Winchester a few doors down from mine. The screams coming from Sam's room late at night told the story that he refused to put words to. Every night, I would just about have the nerve to go to him myself, but then I would hear Dean calling out Sam's name and rushing into the room to calm and comfort his little brother. His quiet sobs floating down the hall were heartbreaking.
I so wanted to be the one running to his bedside to hug away the horrible images that haunted him. But I knew that would only make things worse. I knew that every time he looked at me, it brought back memories of what happened to both of us at the hands of that demonic bitch, Meg!
But, who am I kidding? That was just a dodge. A lie that I told myself to cover up the fact that I was scared. Scared that helping him with his demons would force me to face my own. If I was being honest with myself, I would have to admit that I was just as damaged as Sam was. But, I'm a Harvelle! A HUNTER! Saying that I wasn't OK was something that I couldn't... no, wouldn't say.
Not ever.
First chapter coming soon!