Dean

He was cleaning his guns when Anna bolted awake, her chest heaving with every shaky breath she took, her mouth opened wide in a silent scream. The motel room was mostly dark, the only light in the room coming from the bathroom, a narrow stripe of yellow falling across his lap so he could see the pieces of his disassembled Colt .45. He carefully lifted the cloth the gun had been resting on and set it aside. Anna swung her legs off the bed, gripping the side of the mattress in her fists.

They'd spent the last week bouncing from motel to motel across the better part of upstate New York. Anna insisted that there was something they needed there, and neither him nor Sam had the heart to force her to stop looking for whatever it was.

Besides they have no leads on how to gank Lucifer, no leads on how to even start trying to look for ways to gank Lucifer, and it wasn't hurting them to indulge her. Plus neither of them know how they're supposed to break the news to Bobby that Anna is not only alive and topside, but has been travelling around with them for almost a month now. Winchesters, kings of avoiding their issues and starting apocalypses.

Besides, Dean is getting more and more worried about her, because while Anna seems to be getting better by the day, at night it sometimes feels like she's getting worse. She's definitely no better at night than she was that night she attacked a hellhound bare handed. Her nightmares are the worst, and getting worse, and he has the bruises to prove it. It's why he's sitting up late, cleaning his gun instead of snoring in bed like Sam. It's also why he doesn't feel nearly as guilty as he should for keeping Bobby and Nico in the dark about Anna.

Anna pushed herself to her feet and padded towards the door, glancing over at Dean only briefly. He stands up to follow her, valiantly keeping his eyes from straying to her ass in the boxers she was currently wearing.

'Get it together Winchester. Now is not the time.'

The door opened silently, which Dean is shocked by, because every time he or Sam had opened it that day, it squealed louder than a sorority girl listening to juicy gossip. A combination of moonlight and the one shitty streetlight in the middle of the parking lot pooled over her, and a rush of cool air filled the room. Sam muttered and turned over in his sleep behind them.

"It's spring." She said softly, staring up at the half full moon. Dean didn't say anything, stepping outside with her and closing the door behind him, wincing at the loud squeal. She folded her arms around herself, looking strangely small in the silvery light. Her t-shirt fluttered in the night breeze and Dean inched closer.

"It's almost time for pesach. " The unfamiliar word was strange, the harsh sound soft in her mouth. She traced a hand carefully along the edges of the doorframe, eyes still firmly fixed on the sky.

"I'm not… My mother isn't Jewish, but Dad is. Was. He made sure I knew to say the shema from the moment he started teaching me to hunt, so I would know how to spend my last breath when the time came. Not that it matters, my death and my soul belongs to my mother's gods, but he made sure I learned the words anyways. Sometimes, I can still remember blessings, and sometimes in my dreams I see candlelight." She glanced back at Dean, eyebrows furrowed deeply over her eyes. Her eyes weren't really focused on anything, just away from the sky.

He didn't know that she'd been raised Jewish, or by the sound of it, sorta raised. But it surprises him less then he thinks it should.

"Pesach celebrates freedom from Egypt. The Hebrews were passed over by the Angel of Death and granted freedom. By the outstretched hand of God they were made free . " Her words are harsh and sardonic, bordering on blasphemous with her sarcasm. Dean shifted uncomfortably. They hadn't told Anna yet exactly how he'd been rescued from Hell. They'd just let her assume whatever it was she'd assumed and kept their mouths shut on the existence of angels and Heaven and the fact that the Devil was loose and the Apocalypse is nigh.

"I haven't celebrated in years. I haven't even thought about it. But… this year I was freed too. There was no God to help me, no outstretched hand. I clawed my own way free. But it was still nothing short of a miracle that I managed to survive, and… well, my abba would have found that worth celebrating. I'm not so sure if I do." She sighed and looked away. Her hand curled into a fist, slamming against the doorframe.

"Γαμώτο τους θεϊκούς νόμους." (Damn the ancient laws) He had no idea what she just said, but the bitter anger in her voice was enough to make him take a step closer to her. They were uncomfortably close to a chick flick moment, but Anna needs him. And he'd run when she'd needed him after the hospital. He'd run and she'd almost died because a hellhound came after her. He can suck it up and be there for her this time; try and make up for abandoning her not once, not even twice, but a half dozen times just between their time in Hell and now.

Plus he'd just learned more about Anna in the last five minutes than he had in the two years they'd hunted together before she'd gone to Hell. And he's more than a little curious to know more.

"Anna-" He started, unsure of what he could say.

"How did you get my deal changed?" She shot him a sharp look. He winced. It seemed like all he was good for is shop talk.

"I'm sorry." He apologized quickly. Anna sighed and shook her head, a sardonic smile crossing her face.

"It's fine Dean. It actually wasn't that hard. I just renegotiated the terms of your deal on your behalf."

"But how?" He insisted. Anna tilted her head back, a loose, almost ditzy giggle escaping her, bubbling right out of her chest. Tears glittered in her eyes, but they didn't fall.

"I read the fine print Dean, and I leveraged my own usefulness against them." He desperately wanted to ask her for more details, but as she blinked slowly, looking away from him in a poor attempt to hide her tears, he stopped himself.

"Anna, I really am sorry." He told her quietly. "I wish I had done more. I should have done more. While we were down there, and then after I got out… I should have done more to get you out too. And even now, in the last few weeks… you've given everything and then some to me and Sammy, and what have I ever done for you?" Anna shook her head, turning back to face him while wrapping her arms around herself with a shiver. Dean shrugged his jacket off and draped it around her trembling shoulders, rubbing her arms gently before backing off.

"You didn't- you don't need to do more Dean. I don't need anything special or extra from you. There's no debt to pay. What I did for you, with the deal, and while we were both down there, I did freely." She told him quietly, staring out at the star studded sky. He leaned against the motel room door, one arm slowly inching around her back. He wished he had the courage to just touch her already, but for some reason Anna made all of his trademark confidence fade away, until he'd regressed back into his early teenage years, to the time before he'd figured out how to pick up girls with nothing more than a suggestive grin and a wink.

"What do you need then?" Anna shifted uncomfortably, tugging the jacket around herself. She finally looked over at Dean; a vulnerability in her eyes that she rarely showed.

"Maybe a hug?" He didn't even hesitate. Anna practically melted into his side as he crushed her seemingly delicate body into him. He tucked her head under his chin, resting his cheek against soft brown curls, his thumb absently rubbing along her shoulder as he held onto her. Her fingers curled near the small of his back, fisting the fabric of his shirt. Her body shook with minute trembles. He tightened his grip on her.

"I'm sorry I left you in Hell." His voice cracked, and Dean desperately tried to reign in his emotions. The moment doesn't need to get any more chick flicky than it already is.

Anna somehow sank even further into his side, her face pressed against his shoulder.

"Where I was, where I went Dean. I wasn't in Hell anymore. It was worse . I fell into Tartarus, a place even monsters are afraid of." She admitted quietly, her words so soft he barely heard them. A cold shiver travelled down his spine at the mention of Tartarus.

Anna pulled away from him, and a small pang goes through Dean at the loss of her body against his. She leans against the wall next to him, staring out at the sky again. They stay there in silence for a few minutes, Anna fiddling with the sleeves of his coat while he tries and fails to pretend like he's not watching her like a hawk.

Then she starts talking.

It's mostly random stuff, seemingly insignificant details about her life, or about people in her life. Dean leans against the wall next to her and just listens to her ramble.

He gets it. He never really talks about what happened downstairs either. It makes the memories too real, forces him to remember what happened. Other stuff, superficial stuff is easier. Better. Things to fill the air when the silence is suffocating, and he can't stand the idea of thinking about That Place for even one more second.

She tells him about things like Nico's McDonald's habit, and his odd love of Happy Meals even after he should be way too old for them, or how her brother Malcolm is a slob, while their sister Annabeth is a neat freak. Her brother in law Percy is always the little spoon with Annabeth, and once Anna had walked in on the two of them making out on her bed, half their clothes already on the floor.

Some guy named Mr. D has a secret soft spot for Cadbury Easter chocolates, and some chick named Reyna's favorite color is the orange the sky turns at sunrise.

Her dad taught her how to wield Eleos before she could even lift the sword, and she can count the number of times she's met her mom face to face on one hand with fingers left over. Bobby and Karen used to sing to her when she was small. Anna had loved her motorcycle because of the way the wind roared around and through her and it felt like flying.

Anna used to keep kosher, but when she lost her dad in a fire, most of her father's faith had vanished with him and the only thing she had left of it was a few scattered traditions and a language she threw herself into learning.

A beautiful girl named Silena with eyes as blue as the sky had taught her how to braid her hair, and that same girl with the beautiful eyes had a little sister that hated her sister for dying so much she convinced herself that her sister was evil. Anna paused, her voice hitching over the last thought.

"Do you think Nico hates me? For leaving?" The question hangs frozen in the air between them. Dean honestly can't say. After Anna had closed the Devil's Gate, Nico refused to even speak her name to him. The emo teen could barely even look Dean in the eye, let alone address the topic of the women they both had lo- cared about.

An owl hoots softly in the night, and a silver star falls across the sky, passing over the waxing moon.

Anna stiffens.

Dean reaches for his gun, and swears violently in his head as he remembers that his gun was halfway disassembled inside, because he'd been cleaning it before the two of them had gone outside.

There is a girl glowing softly in the moonlight, shimmering with a glow of incandescent brilliance. She looks young, maybe twelve years old, standing in the center of the parking lot. Dark hair fell in gentle waves, framing a pale, heart shaped face, cold bright eyes shining eerily at him from across the dark lot. She'd appeared out of nowhere. Anna pushed off the wall, her eye fixed on the small figure. His coat slides off her shoulders, the heavy leather falling to the ground in a messy heap. He catches her by her uninjured shoulder, pulling her back before she can approach the weird looking girl.

"Anna…" He warns. She shakes him off, and glances over at him with a cautious smile. Tension stood out across her shoulders, and she was shifting nervously in place.

"It's ok. She's why we're here. She's what I was looking for." Dean eyed her suspiciously.

"If that's the thing that's been luring you here, nothing good will come from you going anywhere near it. Let's get inside, we'll wake up Sammy, figure out how to get rid-"

"No." Anna interrupts him, resting her hand on his arm.

"It's ok, she isn't here to hurt me. At least, I don't think so. Go inside Dean. I'll be back soon." Dean stood there frozen as he watched Anna walk barefoot, in a thin white t-shirt and boxer shorts, across the parking lot to the girl. Anna bows her head, and the two of them speak quietly. Anna glances back at Dean once, and smiles reassuringly.

Then the two women walk away.

Dean does nothing to stop them.

AN:

Yay! I'm finally back. Thank you to all the well wishers and everyone who messaged me about my injuries. My hands have mostly healed, and I'm hoping to get back to a regular update schedule. Again I make no promises, but I will do my best to update this story as regularly as I can.

Thank you to everyone who had read, reviewed, followed, and/or favorited. I really do love hearing from you guys.

Stay healthy and safe and wash your hands and wear masks in public!

Cheers,

Hartley