Never feared for anything
Never chained but never free
A light that healed the broken heart
With all that it could
Lived a life so endlessly
Saw beyond what others see
I tried to heal your broken heart
With all that I could
….
Plans of what our futures hold
Foolish lies of growing old
It seems we're so invincible
The truth is so cold
A final song, a last request
A perfect chapter laid at rest
Now and then I try to find
A place in my mind
Where you can stay
You can stay awake forever
…
Sleep tight I'm not afraid
The ones that we love are here with me
Lay away a place for me
'Cause as soon as I'm done I'll be on my way
To live eternally
How do I live without the ones I love?
Time still turns the pages of the book, it's burned
Place and time, always on my mind
And the light you left remains but it's so hard to stay
When I have so much to say and you're so far away
So Far Away - Avenged Sevenfold
The Impala bounced slightly as it drove over the uneven gravel road that led up to Bobby's house. The familiar sound of the gravel flying up hitting the side of the car was usually a comfort to me. It meant I was headed somewhere I could relax. Somewhere I felt safe. But this time, if anything, it only made me feel worse. It only meant that I was minutes away from disappointing someone else who put their faith in me.
I didn't want to see the look on Bobby's face when he realized he was wrong in thinking I could keep this baby safe.
There was no way I wanted to be back here right now, but it seemed to be the only option. Dean made the decision to come here and I didn't feel as though I was in the position to argue. I'd already screwed up enough. Sam, however, didn't feel the same.
Literally the moment Dean even mentioned going to Bobby's, Sam protested.
I failed Dean. I failed myself. But most importantly, I failed our baby.
That's what I kept telling myself on the definingly quiet nine hour car ride from Missouri to Sioux Falls. That's all I'd ever tell myself. No one could make me believe anything different, not that there was a reason for them to try. It was the truth.
Thankfully, Sam hadn't so much as uttered a single word. I didn't even want to look at him, let alone be in the same car with him.
Every time I shut my eyes, all I could see was blood pooling beneath me, but every time I opened them, my eyes landed on my now flat stomach and my heart broke again. I couldn't even rest my hands where the bump had been without an overwhelming sense of grief filling me.
As we exited the car, I made sure to stay a few steps behind Sam and Dean, the latter of whom seemed to be in his own world from the moment we'd left Missouri. Just as Dean's foot hit the first step, the front door swung open.
Bobby stood there, and for a moment he looked happy to see us until he caught onto the thick air surrounding us. Suddenly, his expression held a look of trepidation. His brows furrowed. He knew something was wrong, I could tell. He just didn't know what.
Without muttering so much as a hello, Sam brushed past Bobby and into the house, leaving Dean and I still outside.
"The hell's wrong with him?" Bobby snapped, nodding his head back to Sam.
"What isn't," Dean replied, his voice monotone. "Sure you don't mind us crashing here?"
"'Course not. Fresh sheets are already on the bed for ya," Bobby said.
From the angle I had my head, I could see Dean glance back at me before moving inside, but I wasn't about to pick up my head to return his gaze. Not when Bobby was staring right at me.
The sound of a sharp intake of air that came from Bobby when his eyes finally settled on me hit like a ton of bricks. I wrapped my arms around my torso to try and hide how flat my stomach was and found myself forcing my head down so far that my chin was practically touching my chest.
"I'm sorry," I muttered, my voice thick. Trying to hold back tears, I began to move so I could walk inside, no intentions of stopping as I passed him.
Before I could, however, Bobby gently grabbed my arm and stopped my stride. His voice was soft, but full of emotion as he spoke. "You've got nothing to be sorry about, you hear me?"
Without looking up, I simply nodded and waited for him to let go of my arm so I could make my way inside. Once he released his grip on me, I all but bolted away. Though as I turned the corner into the kitchen I could've sworn I saw him quickly wipe tears off his cheeks before shutting the door with a very audible bang.
That only cemented my belief that I deserved every ounce of guilt I felt.
Inside the kitchen, Sam was sitting at the table with a beer already in hand, he stared blankly down at the wooden surface beneath him. Seeing him made anger flare through me, and I was afraid of what might happen if I didn't get away. I almost moved into the living room, but Dean was sitting on the couch, his head in his hand. His posture alone told me how miserable he was, and I didn't want to add to that with my presence.
Feeling the burn of eyes on me, I looked back to see Sam just staring. I steeled my gaze and did the same. We stood like that for what felt like forever until the thought popped into my head that my eyes probably didn't hold much more life than his did at the moment.
That's what forced me to begin moving.
I went over to the cabinet Bobby kept some of his extra liquor in and pulled out a bottle of whiskey and headed out of the room. Sam kept his eyes on me as I left, but I didn't turn back to face him, and went upstairs.
Entering the room Dean and I usually stayed in while at Bobby's, I took in the familiar surroundings, finding it hard to believe that the last time I was here, I was naive enough to think I could manage to keep the little hope inside of me, alive.
The urge to sob washed over me again and I quickly pushed it away as I unscrewed the top off the bottle, taking a long swig. The alcohol burned my throat, but I barely registered the feeling as I took another drink. I leaned back against the cold wood of the door, staring up at the ceiling as my eyes filled with tears.
I didn't want them to fall. I didn't deserve to feel any sort of relief, no matter how small, that would come with crying.
With nothing else to do, I dragged myself over to the bed, peeling off my jeans and `jacket as I went, leaving them lying on the floor wherever they fell. I put the bottle of whiskey on the bedside table and pulled back the sheets, curling up underneath them.
The moment my body hit the mattress, I realized how much it ached after so many hours of sitting in the car. I hadn't been lying there for more than ten minutes when I heard the door crack open. I quickly shut my eyes, pretending I was asleep, hoping it would deter whoever was wanting to come in here.
Hearing the door open wider, I cracked my eyes open just enough to peer up through my eyelashes, seeing Dean step into the room. His eyes landed on the bottle of whiskey and he nodded knowingly before quietly moving across the room, stopping at the side of the bed where he picked up the bottle, inspecting it.
With a heavy sigh, he put it back down and looked my way. A flash of sadness crossed his face. I thought he was going to turn and leave, but Dean gently moved my long bangs out of my face and bent down, placing a kiss on my forehead. I shut my eyes tightly, holding back the tears that threatened to give away the fact I wasn't asleep.
After a moment, Dean pulled away and left the room, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click. As soon as I knew he was gone, I turned over onto my back, and stared up at the ceiling, once again trying to stop the tears from flowing. I laid there for what felt like forever until the sound of the Impala starting pulled me out of the fog I was in. I hurriedly got up out of bed and went over to the window, moving the curtains back just in time to see Dean leaving.
A feeling of dread fell over me as I stood there, frozen. Even though my heart told me it couldn't be true, my mind kept repeating over and over again that what just occurred was a goodbye. I wanted to go after him, to try and stop him from leaving, but I couldn't make myself.
Instead, I found myself walking into the bathroom across the hall from the bedroom. I opened the medicine cabinet and looked through the pill bottles until I found one containing sleeping pills. I opened the half-full bottle and stared at the little white pills, a large part of me wanting to choke down a good handful.
For some reason, one I wasn't quite sure of, I only took the two as directed on the label and closed the bottle, putting it back in the cabinet. I made my way into the bedroom, shutting the door behind me again.
Sitting down on the bed, I popped the pills into my mouth and washed them down with some whiskey before curling back up under the sheets, letting my eyes drift shut as they began to work.
DPOV
No matter how much I wanted to talk to Tori right now, I could tell she wasn't ready. And to be honest, I wasn't sure if I was either. I didn't want to talk about how I felt. The guilt. I knew she'd tell me it's not your fault, and maybe all of it wasn't. But a big part was. None of this would've happened if it weren't for me pushing her back into a life we tried so hard to get out of.
Either way, I knew that what I was feeling couldn't even compare to how she must feel. So even though I knew she was awake, and even though I wanted to say goodbye, just in case this plan didn't go..well, as planned. I didn't.
Heading back downstairs, I saw Bobby standing in the kitchen, trying to talk to Sam, who didn't answer with more than one or two words at a time. I had no fucking clue what he had to be so upset about. I'd be lying if I said his attitude wasn't pissing me off.
"I'll be back in a minute," I told them as I headed for the door.
"Where you headed?" Bobby asked, peering out of the kitchen.
"Out. I just need to clear my head."
Bobby nodded, stepping back into the kitchen. Thankfully, Bobby had been giving me space, save for the hand he'd placed on my shoulder after Tori had left for the bedroom. He didn't say anything, just came up and put his arm around me, giving my shoulder a squeeze.
It wasn't until he did it that I'd realized I'd all but frozen in place staring up the stairs where Tori had gone. I looked over at him, seeing an amount of emotions in his eyes I'd never seen before. He swallowed hard before walking away.
After that, he'd left me alone.
Getting into the Impala, I started the car and headed out, determined to get this plan to work. It had to. I'd been going over it again and again for the entire nine hour drive to Sioux Falls. I'd lost too many things for this not to work. I wasn't ashamed to say it was the only thing that kept me clinging into the tiniest shred of hope right now.
A few hours had passed when I reached my destination. I double checked the note I'd written for myself, the address printed on it matching the one in front of me. I parked the Impala alongside the sidewalk and stepped out, making my way to the butcher shop.
The bell chimed above me as I entered the building, alerting the man behind the counter that was lined with plexiglass. He stopped cutting the piece of meat in front of him and watched me warily as I stepped in.
"Hi, I'm, uh, looking for-"
"Follow all the way back," He interrupted me knowingly, gesturing with the knife he was holding. "All the way back."
With a nod, I followed his instructions and headed down a long hallway that ended with a door. I cautiously opened it, seeing a small set of stairs on the other side. Taking those up, I reached for the bannister, quickly pulling my hand back when I felt a sticky substance on it. I grimaced, wiping my hand off on my jacket.
As I rounded the top of the stairs, an older man with grey hair and beard stepped out of one of the rooms, shoving a bloody rag into his dingy lab coat.
"Dean Winchester?" He asked tentatively, peering at me through his glasses.
"You must be Dr. Robert?" I asked. He smiled, putting his hands on my shoulders.
"Son, I stitched up your daddy more times than I can count, let me tell you," he laughed, grabbing both sides of my face, looking a little lost in thought. "'Course, that was ages ago, back when, uh, I still had my medical license," he let go of me and turned on his heel, beginning to walk down the hallway. "Right this way."
I followed him down the pea-green colored hallway, the paint chipping from the wood it was painted on, falling onto the floor. "Look, I'm uh- I'm no germ freak , but…"
Dr. Roberts glanced back at me as we reached the door at the end of the hallway, shrugging. "Rents cheap."
With that, he opened the door to a yellow-tinted, makeshift doctors office with medical equipment strewn around everywhere. A woman with dark hair stood in the middle of the room next to the exam table, filling a syringe.
"Eva, my assistant," he introduced her.
"Hi," I nodded. She rolled her eyes and turned away, getting something else ready.
Dr. Robert pointed to the exam table. "Hop right up."
I hesitated, feeling the heavy dusk in the room entering my lungs with every breath I took. "Now you- you have done this a lot?"
"Oh, many, many times."
"And your...success rate?
"Oh, excellent. Almost seventy-five percent," he said proudly. "So, should we get the, uh, preliminaries out of the way?"
"Yeah," I nodded, pulling the envelope of money from my pocket, handing it to him.
"Ah," he smiled, looking through the bills in the envelope. As he turned to put it in his desk drawer, I took out the other envelope that held the letter I wrote in the car.
"So, listen, if something…" I trailed off.
"Goes wrong?" Dr. Roberts finished.
"Yeah. Would you mail this for me, please?" I asked, handing him the letter I addressed to Bobby's. That's where Tori would be. And if not, then I knew Bobby would get it to her one way or another. And when she read it, she'd understand why I did what I did. At least, I hoped she would.
"This for Victoria and Sam?" He asked, taking the letter.
"Just Tori," I said. I could see the question in his eyes and just sighed. "If I don't make it back, nothing I say is gonna mean a damn thing to Sam."
Suddenly, the woman pushed me down onto the exam table. My back hit the leather with a thump. I let out a low yell as she stuck a needle into my arm.
"Don't be a baby," Eva mumbled with another eye roll.
"You know, a little bedside manner would be nice," I commented. She shot me a hard glare, moving around to the other side of the table.
"Are we ready?" Dr. Robert asked, walking over to the IV with a large needleless syringe filled with a clear fluid.
I swallowed hard, nodding in response to his question. He placed the tip of the syringe into the tube that connected to the needle in my arm, beginning to push the plunger. "You've got three minutes."
My eyelids began to feel heavy and my vision blurred as my heartbeat pounded louder and louder in my ears. I could hear it slowing until, in a split second, my eyes shut.
When I reopened them, I found myself standing at the far side of the room, watching Eva and Dr. Roberts standing over my lifeless body.
"No pulse, no sinus rhythm," Eva said plainly, holding a stopwatch.
"Good times," I mumbled, leaving the room. I didn't even have to bother opening the door, I just passed through the wood and made my way back down to the store. People were walking around, going about their routine. None of them knew a dead guy was standing right behind them.
Before I got too jealous of their ignorance, I let out a sigh. This better work, I thought to myself as I muttered the incantation aloud. "Messorum evoco qui me tetigit."
"Dean?" A familiar voice called my name. I turned around to see Tessa standing there, a confused look on her face. "What the hell?"
"What do you know?" I breathed, surprised. "It worked."
"I was in Sudan!" Tessa exclaimed, taking a step towards me. "What's with yanking me ov- wait," she paused, her brows furrowed. "Why are you dead?"
"Tessa, I need a favor."
"Oh, you're kidding," She laughed humorlessly. "You died to ask me-"
"Tell your boss, I need to talk to him."
She shot me a look. "No."
"Please?
"Where do you get the nerve?" She huffed, crossing her arms.
I shrugged. "Desperate times."
"He calls us, we don't call him."
"You make an exception!" I exclaimed, getting annoyed with her. Sure, maybe it wasn't her fault, but i didn't care. Not right now.
"I can't."
"Can't or won't?"
"Both."
An eerie feeling filled the room as Tessa paled. I followed her gaze over my shoulder to see Death sitting at the dining counter in the store, a bored look on his face.
"Alright, Tessa. Thank you very much," he mumbled dryly, turning his gaze to me. "Hello Dean. I'm busy. Talk fast."
"I have something of yours," I announced, fully turning to face him.
"You mean my ring? I recall loaning you that temporarily."
I hesitated for a moment before continuing. "Well, if you want it back-"
"I'm sorry, you assume that I don't know where you've hidden it. Now we've established you have hubris, but no leverage. What is it you want?"
"You decide who dies, right? Where, when?" I pressed.
Death nodded. "Smart as always, Dean. Quit shuffling and deal."
"You killed my son," I said through gritted teeth.
"I did?"
"You put in the order for him to be...reaped," I choked the words out. "At least. And I want him back.
"Oh, do you now?" Death asked, staring me down.
"Yeah. I do."
He watched me for a moment before shaking his head. "I can't do that."
My heart fell as I stood there, my breathing growing heavier. "You can do whatever you want-"
"I most certainly can't, Dean. There's an order-"
"That's bullshit!" I exclaimed angrily, throwing my arms out to the side. I looked back to Tessa, who had a sad look on her face. I shook my head, looking back to Death. "You have to be able to do it!"
"I'm sorry you feel that way. But that's how it is. End of story. I would've thought you'd be here to ask me about your brother's soul," He said dryly, moving to stand. "Now if you'll excuse me-"
"Wait," I called, his words breaking through my anger just enough to remind me of the other reason I got myself killed for. Death let out a heavy sigh, plopping back down as I continued. "Lucifer's cage. I figure you're one of the few people that can actually jailbreak it."
His head cocked to the side. "Do you?"
"Sam's soul is stuck in that box.
"I've heard."
"And our other brother is trapped in there, too. Michael rode him in. I want you to get them both out. If you can manage to do it, that is," I snapped, not able to stop myself from adding in that jab. I was still angry from his flat out denial.
"Who do you think you're talking to?" Death raised an eyebrow, watching me closely. I didn't reply, trying not to show that I was worried that I just ruined my one chance at getting my brother back. Death paused for another moment before speaking. "Pick one."
"What?!" I fumed.
"Sam's soul or Adam's."
"But-"
"As a rule, I don't bring people back. I might make an exception once, not twice. So...pick."
My jaw clenched at the decision I was faced with. I didn't want to leave Adam down there, but if I had to choose…
"Sam," I answered. "His soul has been in there for a year, and I understand that it's...damaged."
"Try flayed to the raw nerve."
"Is there any way that you could, uh, I don't know, hack the hell part off?" I questioned.
"Dean, Dean, Dean," Death mumbled, getting up to stand beside Tessa. "What do you think the soul is? Some pie you can slice? The soul can be bludgeoned, tortured, but never broken. Not even by me."
"There's got to be something."
"Maybe. Can't erase Sam's hell, but I can…put it behind a wall, if you want."
"A wall?" I repeated.
"In his mind. A dam to hold back the tide. Nasty, those memories," he rattled off. "You don't want to know what they'll do to him. Believe me."
The weight of all of this information was almost too much to handle. But if this brought Sam back, I had no choice but to nod and go along with what he was saying.
"Okay, a wall. Sounds good."
"But it's not permanent," Tessa chimed in.
"She's right," Death agreed. "Nothing lasts forever. Well, I do, but…"
"Okay, so that's the choice. Sam with no soul or Sam with some drywall that if or when it collapses, he's, what, done?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Do it," I answered quickly.
Death took a calculated step towards me. I held my breath, trying not to flinch at his proximity. He watched me, unblinking. "I never said I'd do it."
"Well, then what the hell have we been talking about?"
For a moment I thought I saw Death crack a small smile before his face turned back to his usual stone-cold expression. "Your prize, if you win the wager."
"Great," I huffed, rolling my eyes. "What's the bet?"
"Don't roll your eyes, Dean. It's impolite. Now, when you fetch my ring, put it on."
"What?" I balked.
"I want you to be me for one day."
"Are you serious?"
"No, I'm being incredibly sarcastic," he replied dryly. "Take the ring off before the twenty-four hours are up, and you lose. No soul for Sam. Clear?"
"Okay, yes," I answer quickly. "But- but why?"
"Simple, Dean. Because-"
Suddenly, my eyes snapped open to see the old, dirty ceiling of the makeshift doctors office I'd nearly forgotten my body was lying in. Dr. Robert leaned over me, his eyes wide.
"Thank Moses!"
"You couldn't have given me five more seconds?!" I questioned with a huff. Sitting up faster than I probably should've, my head started to spin.
"Son, you were gone for seven minutes."
"I was?" I asked in surprise.
"I thought for sure death had you by the twins," he joked.
"Just might," I mumbled, rubbing my temples when my head started to pound.
Dr. Robert froze, looking up at me with a raised eyebrow. "Sorry, what?"
"Nothing."
Back at Bobby's, I called both him and Sam into the living room to tell them my plan. Bobby sat on the couch in sheer disbelief while Sam immediately jumped to his feet the moment the words left my mouth.
"You what?!" He exploded.
"Come on, man, keep it down!" I hissed back quietly. There was no way I wanted Tori to know anything about this. "Just hear me out-"
Sam shook his head in disgust. "I heard Cas and Crowley when they said it would either kill me or turn me into jello, Dean. I heard enough."
"Death said he can put up a wall," I told him.
Bobby's eyebrows shot up in question. Sam just stared at me. "A wall?" He repeated.
"Yes, a wall that- that, basically, you wouldn't remember hell."
"Really?"
"Really."
"For good? Like a cure?"
"No, it's not a cure. It," I paused trying to figure out how to say this without actually telling him what Death said. "He said it could last a lifetime."
"Great," Sam scoffed. "So, playing pretty fast and loose with my life here, don't you think, Dean?"
"I'm trying to save your life!"
"Exactly, Dean! It's my life! It's my life, it's my soul. And it sure as hell ain't your head that's gonna explode when this whole scheme of yours goes sideways!"
"Just curious," Bobby muttered, getting to his feet. "I presume Death's not doing this out of the goodness of his heart. So, what's your half of the deal?" He asked. I looked away, not sure how to answer. Bobby raised an eyebrow. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that."
"I have to wear the ring for a day," I told him.
"Why the hell would he want you to do that?" Bobby asked, flabbergasted.
"Gets his rocks off. I don't know," I said. "But I'm doing it."
"Oh, yeah? And what's Tori gonna say about that?"
"Tori's not gonna know," I said pointedly.
"Yeah, I'm sure she won't realize when Sam's soul has just miraculously popped itself back into his body," Bobby grumbled sarcastically.
I rolled my eyes, about to reply when Sam moved towards the back door. My attention quickly snapped to him. "Where are you going?"
"Look, I hear you." Sam said. "I get it. I just need a minute to wrap my head around it, alright?"
"Yeah, sure. But if you're headed out there to dig up the ring," I started, reaching into my jacket pocket, pulling out Death's ring. "I already got it."
"I was just gonna go for a walk," Sam lied unconvincingly.
"Uh-huh," I nodded. "Sam, I'm your brother. I'm not gonna let you get hurt. I know what I'm doing here."
"What if you're wrong?" Sam countered.
"I won't let it go wrong," I said, putting every ounce of conviction into those words that I could possibly muster.
Sam took a pause, letting out a sharp breath. "Fine."
"Fine? So, you're-"
"I'm trusting you here. Barely."
"You sure?" I pressed.
"You're the one with the compass, right?" Sam shrugged, tucking his hands in his pockets. "Just don't mess it up."
"I won't," I said, looking over to Bobby, lowering my voice. "Watch him."
"Sure thing," Bobby nodded. With that, I got up and headed out into the foyer, hearing footsteps following close behind. I glanced over my shoulder to see Bobby there, worry covering his features. "Listen, Dean, Vic hasn't made a peep."
"That's 'cause she brought Johnnie Walker up there with her," I replied, looking up the staircase.
"You should talk to her."
"And say what?" I scoffed softly. "I don't- I wouldn't know what to say right now. I'd probably just end up making everything worse."
"You know, in my experience, it's not always words that matter. Sometimes just being there is more than enough."
"Yeah," I nodded. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't face her yet, not without having accomplished something. Not without some kind of good news.
Bobby just watched me, his eyes sad. I ignored him as much as possible and held up the ring, pulling in a deep breath as I pushed it on to my right ring finger. In the blink of an eye, I was standing in the middle of a crowded city sidewalk.
"Wow. They'll just let any slack-jawed haircut be Death these days," Tessa said from behind me. I turned around, seeing her standing there with her hands pushed firmly into her pockets, an irritated look on her face.
"Well, you're' all charm today, aren't you?"
She smiled humorlessly, her lips set tight. Tessa took a step towards me. "Let's be clear so that we get through this with a minimum of screw-ups. I don't like this. And right now, I'm not crazy about you, either.
"This is your boss' idea, not mine."
"True, but you have a long history of throwing a wrench in everything. So let's just stick to the rules, deal?"
"And the rules are?"
"For the next twenty-four hours, you kill everyone whose number's up."
"Well, how am I supposed to know who to…" I trailed off.
"Kill?" She questioned, an eyebrow raised. I nodded. "I have a list."
"A list? What are they, groceries?" I said incredulously. Tessa rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. "Let me see."
"No. You touch them, they die, I reap them. Are we clear?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Don't mess this up. It's not my job to be your damn babysitter," She snapped. I was about to reply when she held up her hand. "And just so you know, when people die, they might have questions for you. Well, you know, not you, but death."
"You mean like, how did Betty White outlast me?"
"What's it all mean? Is popular."
"And am I just gonna magically know?"
"No."
"Then what the hell am I supposed to say?" I pressed, to which she just shrugged. "Oh come on, give me something."
"Suck it up. It comes with the gig."
With the snap of her fingers, the two of us were standing in a small convenience store where a robber was holding a gun to the clerk and his son.
"Come on! Let's go!" The robber shouted, gesturing to the register with his gun.
Instinctively, I took a step forward to stop the idiot with the gun, but Tessa held a hand out in front of me. "They can't hear you. They can't see you. Just let this play out."
"Who am I taking?" I asked, my eyes darting back and forth between the two men before settling on the boy for a few seconds. It fucking better not be him, I thought to myself.
"Wait and see," Tessa answered my question.
When the cashier didn't move fast enough for his liking, the robber pointed the gun to the boy, who let out a cry in fear. "You want me to shoot the kid?!"
"Tessa," I hissed through gritted teeth.
"Hurry up, come on! And don't forget the drawer under the register!" The robber shouted.
In his haste to open the drawer, the cashier knocked a bag of money onto the floor. When the robber went to grab it, the clerk pulled a gun from the drawer under the register and shot him in the middle of his chest.
The man fell to the ground with a loud thud, blood spurting from his lips. I couldn't help but feel relieved, and a little happy, that he was the one to go. He was clearly in pain, groaning in agony while he held onto his wound. Tessa nodded for me to go, so I took a step closer, standing over him. For a moment, I just watched.
"Hello?" Tessa called out. I looked over my shoulder at her. She tapped her wrist. "Tick tock."
"He's in agonizing pain, right?" I asked.
"Uh, yes."
"Give me a minute," I muttered, turning back to the man. A few moments passed until I realized the little boy was staring at the man in fear. So I bent down and touched his hand. His body stopped moving, his arms falling to the side.
"Why?" I heard from behind me. I turned around to see the robber standing beside Tessa, his wound gone and no blood on his face.
"Mostly because you're a dick. Enjoy the ride down, pal," I said, a grin on my lips "Trust me, the sauna gets hot."
Tessa pursed her lips at me. She touched the man's shoulders, calling his attention to her. With a small smile, she guided him out of the store.
That wasn't so hard.
Back outside, Tessa brought us to a small park, walking over to an overweight man in a suit shoving a slice of pizza down his throat.
"Call me crazy, but this smells like a heart attack," I observed as the grease from the pizza ran down his hand. Suddenly, the man clutched his chest and fell forward onto the ground, the slice of pizza landing somewhere nearby. "Lucky guess."
I bent down and touched his arm, looking back up just In time to see him appear next to Tessa, a confused look on his face. His brows furrowed as he looked around; it wasn't until he saw his own body on the ground his eyes widened.
"Why?" He asked.
"You think maybe it was the extra cheese?" I asked, nodding back to the nearly empty pizza box that still sat on the bench.
The man nodded dejectedly. "Yeah. It was good, though."
"Is that a local place?" I wondered. I mean, for a dead guy's pizza, it looked pretty good.
"Dean." Tessa scolded, looking to the man with a soft smile, her hand on his arm.
"Right," I muttered, looking back to him. "So, uh, time to go. Sorry."
"Wait," The man called out, stopping Tessa from taking him away. He looked to me. "Will you tell me what it all means?"
Tessa and the man looked at me expectantly, albeit her expression held more of a sceptial tone.
"Uh," I thought for a moment, settling on the best thing I could come up with on the fly. "Everything is dust in the wind."
"That's it?!" He exclaimed. "A Kansas song?!"
"Sorry," Tessa apologized to him, nodding to me. "He's new."
WAREHOUSE - DUSK
SPOV
Since Dean left, Bobby plopped himself on the couch. He hasn't moved. He was upset, that much was obvious. But whether it was about me, Dean and Tori, that baby, or all of the above, I didn't know. I didn't care either.
However, I was getting tired of seeing him constantly tip-toeing around, like Tori was sleeping up there and not completely passed out...or dead.
Because little did he know, when he stepped out onto the porch to watch Dean leave this morning, I heard her get up and go into the bathroom. I made sure to hurry over to the stairs, wanting to know what she was doing.
She had no idea anyone was listening, but I was. I know she took some pills. I'm just not sure how many. Definitely enough to keep her out of my hair for a while, if not forever - which would be preferable.
Especially since she almost fucking shot me yesterday.
Since we were sitting in complete silence, Bobby kept looking like he wanted to say something to me, but never did. I certainly wasn't about to start up a conversation. I needed the quiet. I needed to think. Because Dean was relentless with this bullshit.
And seeing that look in his eyes when he was talking about my soul before, he's not gonna give up until he either finds a way to shove that shit back into me, or I'm dead.
And I'm not gonna let either of those things happen.
With nowhere left to turn, an idea popped into my head. I needed...help. Angelic, help. But certainly not from Cas. He was too far up Tori's ass to help me with anything that even remotely went against her.
After Bobby had fallen asleep, I took my chance and headed out to the Impala making the short drive to an old abandoned warehouse a few miles down the road from Bobby's house.
Once in the building, I drew the sigil on the ground and placed a large wooden bowl in the center of it. After adding all the ingredients necessary, I said the incantation, lit a match and threw it in.
"Sam Winchester," Balthazar appeared in front of me, anger clear in his features. "Here's one for the list of dumbest things ever. Summon the angel who wants to kill you."
"Desperate times," I said. "I need your help, Balthazar."
"Interesting," he muttered, stepping closer. "Since the last time we met, you wanted to - oh, what was it? Ah, yes. Fry my wings extra crispy."
"Well, that was a misunderstanding."
"Some misunderstanding!" He scoffed.
"I need some advice. Angel advice."
"Then go ask your boyfriend," he said dismissively.
"Cas can't help me. I need to know if there's a spell or a weapon, anything that can keep a soul out. Forever."
"Oh," he said, looking intrigued. "What's going on, Sam?"
"It's for me," I told him.
"Where's your soul, Sam?" He asked, realization converting his features after a moment of my silence. "Good God, no. It's not still…"
"It is. And my brother found a way to put it back in me. I don't want it."
"No, you don't. 'Cause Michael and Lucy are hate-banging it as we speak."
"Can you help me?"
"Oh, yes. The question is, will I?"
"Set your terms."
"I'll do it for free. On one condition."
"Why?" I asked, wondering why on earth he'd be willing to do it for nothing.
"Well, you seem like a capable young man. I'd love to have you in my debt. And I have to say, I'm not a fan of your brother, so screwing him would delight me. Anyway, to business. My condition."
"What is it?"
"Don't hurt Victoria."
I scoffed. "You're serious."
"Very. She's the only reason you two idiots didn't set me on fire," he said obviously. "So? Deal or no deal?"
"Fine," I nodded. "Deal." Unless she tries to stop me, I added to myself.
"Good," he nodded. "Now. The spell. So, finding the ingredients is easy enough, but, uh, there's one tricky part, however."
"Okay."
"You need to scar your vessel."
"Meaning what?"
"Meaning something that so pollutes it, it renders it uninhabitable. Calls for something very specific."
"Great. What?"
"Patricide."
"My dad's been dead for years."
"To be clear, um, you need the blood of your father, but your father needn't be blood. Comprende?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
Immediately, I gathered the items I brought into the warehouse and threw them into the Impala, wasting no time getting back to Bobby's. Once there, I parked the car and waited a moment to compose myself before heading inside the house through the side door.
Bobby rounded the corner, looking at me suspiciously. "Woke up and you were gone. Where you been?"
"Just driving around," I shrugged it off. "No biggie."
"Drink?" He asked, reaching for the bottle on the table that was littered with poker chips and cards.
"Uh, sure," I replied, sitting down as he filled up the two shot glasses.
Bobby sat down across from me, grabbing some of the cards. "Up for a game?"
I nodded. "Definitely."
HOSPITAL - NIGHT
DPOV
By the time night had fallen, Tessa had reaped another three people. None of them bothered me, not really. I didn't feel much adversity to it until we arrived at a hospital and Tessa brought me over to a room where a young girl was sitting on a hospital bed, oxygen tubes in her nose.
A man, who I assumed was her father, sat beside her, the two of them flipping through a scrapbook.
"That's you when we went to California," he said, pointing to one of the pictures. "You were six then."
"God, we should burn that," The girl joked. The nurse that was standing near the bed smiled at them as they spoke before going back to the chart in her hands.
"You were adorable," he told her.
Before I even knew it, there were tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat at the thought of taking either one of them.
"The dad or the kid?" I asked, not wanting to hear the answer, no matter what it was.
"The kid," Tessa replied.
"Come on," I spat angrily. "What is she, thirteen?"
"She's twelve."
"And that's-" The girl asked, pointing to a picture.
"That's your mom," Her dad trailed off, his posture becoming sad when he spoke about her. "When she was your age."
"Does this guy have any other family?" I asked.
Tessa shook her head. "No, not really."
I walked away in disgust, and as much as I didn't want her to, Tessa followed close behind. "Dean-"
"This is fucking awesome," I said sarcastically, turning to face her.
"What, you thought it was all gonna be armed robbers and heart attacks waiting to happen?"
"She's twelve!"
"With a serious heart condition. Come on-"
"Come on, what? Just go kill a kid? Do you realize this might be a little too close to home right now?" I snapped. Tessa looked remorseful, but it didn't change anything. "This is crap. I'm not doing it."
"Dean, I'm sorry. I am. I don't like this either-"
"Yeah," I scoffed, not believing her. "You're a reaper, what do you care?"
"I care. A lot. I didn't want to take your son. But I had to. And now-"
"You took him?" I interrupted, anger flaring through me.
"I did," Tessa nodded.
"Why? You- you could've-"
Tessa furrowed her brow angrily. "There was nothing I could do, Dean. I wish I didn't have to. But I did. Because-"
"You had orders," I said sarcastically, disgusted with her excuses.
"Yes."
"From Death."
"He gets the order, then does what he has to. He doesn't decide who dies."
"Then where does the order come from?"
"I don't know. It just is. It's destiny."
"Destiny," I laughed humorlessly. "Yeah, well. I've spent my whole life fighting that shit. There's no such thing as destiny."
"Do you know what's amazing? You don't actually buy a word you're saying."
"Yes, I do."
"Oh, really? So, all the times that you messed with life and death, they just worked out for you? It was just a beach party every time, huh?"
"Well, I know this much. I wish someone had the balls to disobey the order when it was my son's life on the line. Right now, I'm gonna be that someone for them," I nodded to the father and daughter in the hospital room. "I'm Death, she's not dying today."
Not too long after, the nurses came to get Hilary for some tests before her scheduled surgery tonight. She waved goodbye to her father as they wheeled her out of the room. I peered in to see Hilary's dad sitting with his head in his hands.
Much to his surprise, about a half hour later, they wheeled Hilary back into the room, the doctor following them.
"What's wrong?" Her dad asked, quickly standing up.
"Nothing," The doctor replied. "Her heart is- well, medically, I can't explain it. It just...healed."
"It just, what?"
"A couple of times in your career, you see something you just got to call a miracle. All I know is I won't have to operate," he smiled.
"Thank you. Thank you, doctor," Hilary's dad said happily, bending down in front of his daughter. "You did it, you're gonna be okay."
"Really?" She asked, looking like she didn't believe him.
"Yeah, really," He nodded, hugging her tightly before wheeling her away, the two of them smiling widely.
I looked over at Tessa, who just stared back at me disapprovingly. I didn't care, seeing that moment between them, it felt good.
"Hey hon, guess what?" A woman I recognized as Hilary's nurse was talking on her phone as she stepped into the hallway, walking right through Tessa. "I'm leaving. No, surgery was canceled. Okay. See you soon."
"Come on," Tessa called. "We have more work here."
SPOV
It felt like this had been going on forever, but I knew I had to wait for my perfect moment. It would come eventually.
"Pair of aces," I announced, showing my cards.
Bobby picked up his beer bottle, realizing it was empty. "Want another one?"
"Yeah, sure," I nodded.
With that, Bobby grabbed the two empty beers and got up, making his way to the refrigerator. While he bent down to look inside, I quietly got up and grabbed the large wrench I saw sitting on the countertop lining the wall opposite to Bobby.
As soon as I reached up to swing, he turned around, hitting me over the head hard enough that I went flying to the ground. I quickly came up with a new plan, freezing in place to make him think I was knocked out.
"May have been born at night, boy. But it wasn't last night," He commented.
The moment Bobby walked a few steps away, I hurriedly got to my feet and ran to the back of the house. Outside, I headed into Bobby's hold shed where I knew he kept his tools.
Making my way back inside, I readied the axe in my hands as I walked through the dark house. As I moved past the steps, I realized that if Tori wasn't completely out of it, all of the commotion probably woke her up.
"Shit," I hissed.
Forgetting about Bobby for a second, I headed up the steps. As much as the thought of her being alive pissed me off right now, I'd keep good on my end of the deal with Balthazar. I wouldn't hurt her...badly.
Just enough to make sure she stayed the hell out of the way while I did what needed to be done.
BOBBY'S HOUSE - NIGHT
TPOV
For the first time in a long time, my mind was blank as I slept. I had no dreams, good or bad. It was a strange feeling to not be awoken by nightmares every couple minutes like I had been.
The feeling over not being alone suddenly took over and I began to sir as the bed shook underneath me. Suddenly, I felt hands grab me and my eyes snapped open. I was about to start throwing punches when, through the small amount of moonlight filtering into the room, I saw that it was Bobby standing there, hunched over me at the side of the bed.
"What?" I snapped, groggily slapping his hands off me.
"You gotta get up, girl, Sam's off his fuckin' rocker!" Bobby whisper-yelled, an urgency in his voice that I didn't totally pick up on.
"I know," I mumbled, pressing my face back into the pillow. "Leave me alone."
"Oh, hell," Bobby huffed, sliding his hand underneath me, he pulled my top half up off the mattress. I furrowed my brows in confusion and anger, glaring at him.
"What the fu-" I paused, seeing the shotgun tucked under his arm. "What's going on?"
Bobby kept his voice low. "Sam just tried to kill me."
"He what?!" I exclaimed, my once narrowed eyes growing wide.
"Sh!" Bobby hissed. "We gotta move!"
Hearing the urgency in his voice, I didn't say another word and hopped out of bed. The two of us headed downstairs, moving cautiously. Once we reached the bottom of the steps, Bobby glanced back at me over his shoulder and nodded to his right.
Passing by the basement door, Bobby paused for a second to lock it before turning around to face the closet door on the opposite wall, opening it. I looked up at him in question, but he just rolled his eyes and gently pushed me inside, shutting the door behind the two of us.
"We'll be safe in here," Bobby told me quietly.
"A closet?" I asked incredulously. "We'll be safe in a closet?"
"Just trust me, dammit."
My annoyance quickly left as a thought popped into my head, worry taking over. "Where is Dean? Is he okay?"
"Yeah, he's...not here."
"Where is he?"
"Not the time, Vic."
"Not the time, my ass!"
Just as the words left my lips, an axe blade came slamming through the door, splintering the wood. I let out a startled yelp and Bobby jumped back in reaction, our eyes wide.
Pausing mid-swing, Sam peered through the chuck taken out of the wood, his eyes landing on me. "There you are."
A chill ran down my spine when I realized that if Bobby didn't come get me when he did, Sam would've been the one in that room catching me off guard.
"Don't say here's Johnny," Bobby commented as Sam began frantically chopping through the door again.
"I gotta do this. I'm sorry," Sam said insincerely. "You shouldn't have cornered yourselves."
"I didn't!" Bobby told him, pulling a lever hidden under some clothes. The sound of mechanisms firing echoed through the basement underneath us and in the blink of an eye, Sam fell from view, landing below us with an audible thud.
"You could've clued me in on the trap door!" I scolded Bobby.
"Sorry, usually you don't want to let the person you're trying to lure into a trap know there's a trap!"
"Oh, whatever," I huffed, opening the closet door, being careful to step around the hole in the floor. I craned my neck to look below, but couldn't see anything other than the floor. I did, however, hear Sam shuffling around, tossing things to the ground as he no doubt looked for a way out.
"I need to know what the hell's going on here, Bobby," I demanded.
"Dean found a way to get Sam's soul back," Bobby explained, handing me a bat from the closet to protect myself with.
"What?!" I all but shouted, gripping the wood so tight that my knuckles turned white. A mixture of anger and fear bubbled up inside of me, both feelings vying for a spot up front.
Why didn't he tell me? Why leave me out of it like that?
Just as Bobby was about to explain more, the sound of metal clashing into the basement door echoed throughout the basement. He glanced over his shoulder at me. "I'll be glad to fill you in on the rest after we get the maniac running around my house with an axe under control."
"Yeah," I agreed, pushing my nagging thoughts off for the moment. Sam was already in the basement, it wouldn't be hard for Bobby and I to get him chained down in the panic room...right?
Another loud bang sounded on the door, only this time I could tell it was a direct hit to the doorknob, considering the one on our side shook as we stepped up to it.
"Reinforced steel core, titanium kick plate. Get comfy," Bobby told Sam through the wood. "You want to explain what this is about?"
"I just- I have to do this," Sam huffed tiredly, the sound of his footsteps retreating on the steps telling me he backed off from the door slightly.
"Says who?" Bobby pressed.
"If Dean shoves that soul back in me, think how bad that could really be."
"Dean's got a way to make it safe."
"Oh, yeah, what, some wall inside my head that maybe stays up? And if it doesn't, I'm fucked," Sam said, let out a sigh. "And I can't let it happen. Bobby, it's not like I want to do this. You've been nothing but good to me."
"Then why do it?!" I hissed, fuming. Needless to say, anger seemed to be the winning emotion at the moment.
"Demon deal or something?" Bobby guessed, an underlying tone of anger in his voice.
"No. It's a spell," Sam answered, his voice calm despite the topic at hand.
"You're making a mistake, Sam."
"A big one," I added through gritted teeth.
"I'm trying to survive."
"You won't for long if I have any say."
"Go ahead and threaten me, Tori. It only proves that you don't care about me. Just like Dean. You guys only care about little Sammy, burning in hell. You'll kill me just to get that other guy back!"
I was about to snap back at him when Bobby held his hand up. He spoke instead, attempting to reason with Sam.
"Look, I know how scary it is. But you know what's scarier? You right now. You're not in your right head, Sam. You're not giving us much choice here," Bobby explained.
A lull of silence fell over us then. Bobby and I shared a look of apprehension before he redirected his attention to the door. "Sam?" Silence. "Balls!"
"He could just be hiding," I pointed out. "Waiting for the right time."
"Yeah, well, ain't nobody killing me in my house but me," Bobby commented, cocking his shotgun.
Making sure he was ready, I unlocked the door and let it swing open. Sam wasn't on the steps, but there was a small pool of blood where he was before. Bobby and I both made our way down the stairs slowly, each taking a section of the basement to inspect.
"I don't want to blow your legs out, boy, but I will,"I heard Bobby threatened from the other side of the basement. A few seconds later, Bobby let out a fast sigh. "Vic."
Knowing he found something, I made my way over to his side of the basement. Standing near the panic room, Bobby showed me the fresh blood covering his palm from touching the door handle, mumbling how it was Sam's. I looked inside the panic room through the open hatch, seeing a ladder directly underneath the now open vent, the grate that once covered it lying on the cot.
"Shit," I hissed. "He's gone."
HOSPITAL - NIGHT
DPOV
Our walk through the hospital was spent with Tessa angrily stomping in front of me, not even so much at turning around to face me as we went.
"Oh, what, you gonna give me the silent treatment now?" I asked, getting no response. "Really?"
Suddenly, Tessa froze in place when we reached the ER. "Dammit! I knew it!"
"What?" I asked.
Behind us, the sound of the double doors opening called my attention. I watched as a group of nurses were working over a woman on a gurney as EMT's wheeled her into one of the private rooms, explaining that she had a fractured spine and internal bleeding, as well as having had a heart attack in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. Some of the nurses explained she needed a surgeon, but he was on his way home. They rushed to call him back.
The woman was fitted with a neck brace. Her dark hair was matted with blood as it streamed over her shoulders. Her face was so swollen, I couldn't make out much. She was wearing scrubs that were splattered with blood and upon focusing on that, I saw the nametag pinned onto her shirt. Jolene. She was Hilary's nurse.
My mouth dropped open. "That's-"
"You let the girl live," Tessa pointed her finger at me angrily. "The nurse goes home early, gets in a crash she wouldn't have. And she needs the heart surgeon, and where is he?"
"You knew this would happen?" I asked.
"No. Just knew that you knocked over a domino."
"She's in cardiac arrest," The on call doctor announced, pulling over a defibrillator as the EKG began flatlining. They cut open her shirt and pressed the paddles onto her chest.
"Take her," Tessa said, grabbing me by the arm, pulling me into the room.
"What? She's not on the list!" I exclaimed, stopping my stride.
"Everything you do has consequences. Do you want to set off another chain reaction?"
"She's got nothing to do with this!" I snapped.
"Well, too bad, Dean," Tessa folded her arms. "You put on the ring. Now do your damn job."
My jaw clenched. There was no part of me that wanted to do this, but I didn't feel I had another choice. I stepped over to the bed and gently touched her hand.
"She's crashing again, we're losing her!" Another doctor announced, shocking her again.
"Is that-" Jolene's spirit spoke from beside Tessa. Her eyes were glued to her own body as the doctors and nurses scrambled around it to save her. "Am I?"
"Yes," Tessa nodded, her voice soft. "I'm sorry."
She looked at her in shock and sadness, her eyes returning back to the scene in front of us as the doctors called her time of death and began to filter out of the room. "But I'm…"
"So young."
"Actually, you were supposed to live for many decades. Have kids, grandkids."
"Then why?"
'Because he screwed up," Tessa nodded over to me.
"You did this to me?" Jolele asked, her voice cracking with emotion.
"I'm sorry," I muttered, looking at her with tear-filled eyes.
"Come on, Jolene. It's time," Tessa told her, placing a gentle hand on her back, she began leading Jolene down the hallway.
Suddenly, shouting was heard down the same corridor Tessa and Jolene had just disappeared through. A man came running around the corner calling for his wife. One of the nurses attempted to stop him from entering the room, but let him slip past her when he explained he was Scott, Jolene's husband.
As soon as his eyes landed on his wife's lifeless body, Scott began to cry. He rushed over to her bedside, practically dropping to his knees as he held her hand in his.
Trying to find some kind of good in all this, I went back to Hilary's room, finding her sitting in the bed with her father, who was showing her another book.
"A real vacation?" She asked excitedly.
"Yeah," he replied, hugging her to his side. "I can take you to this one cafe, show you where I met your mom."
"Dean," Tessa called from behind me. I didn't turn around to face her, instead taking a step towards the window, staring outside. "You saw what happened to the nurse. Go and kill that girl. I tried to tell you what you already know. She's disrupting the natural order by being alive. You of all people know what that means. Chaos and sadness will follow her for the rest of her life. We tried it your way."
A man stumbled out of the small bar across the street, but it wasn't until he reached his car that I recognized him. It was Scott. There was no way he wouldn't get into some kind of accident attempting to operate a car when he could barely even walk.
"Give me a minute," I said.
"What?" Tessa asked.
I didn't bother to answer her, teleporting myself into Scott's car. From the passenger seat, I watched as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a flask, taking a long swig.
"Come on, man, pull the car over. You're gonna get yourself killed," I spoke, even though he couldn't hear me. "What are you doing? Pull the damn car over!"
"Route ten is still shut down from an earlier fatal crash," A female voice spoke over the radio.
Scott angrily began fuzzing with the radio controls, knowing exactly what they were talking about. His foot hit the gas and the car began speeding down the road even faster, but he still didn't look up from the buttons he was fussing with.
The light up ahead turned red, but Scott wasn't paying any attention.
"Come on, hit the breaks!" I shouted when I spotted a bus driving towards the intersection. "Son of a bitch." I gritted my teeth in anger, pulling the ring off my finger in one swift motion.
Scott screamed in shock at the sight of me appearing in his car. I grabbed the wheel and yanked it to the side, causing the car to narrowly miss the oncoming bus. We went careening off to the side, hitting into a parked car. The airbags went off, cushioning the impact. Scott was slumped forward against the steering wheel, the airbag propping him up enough so that he wasn't hurt too badly, save for a bloody nose. He began to stir as I stumbled out of the car.
"Tessa!" I shouted into the air. "You there?! Tessa?! I lost! Sam's screwed! You happy?! Least you can do is zap my ass back home! Hello?!"
"I'm here, Dean," Tessa announced her presence.
I spun around on my heel to face her. "I lost the bet."
She nodded. "Sorry about your brother."
No matter what I tried to do, I knew deep down that Tessa was right. I hated to admit it, but she was. If I hadn't taken that ring off, Tessa would've been here to reap Scott's soul. There was no solution, except for the one I hated the most.
"Let's just go," I said.
"Go where, Dean?" She asked. "We're done."
Without another word, I slipped the ring on and brought us back to Hilary's hospital room.
SINGER SALVAGE YARD - NIGHT
TPOV
Following the trail of blood Sam left behind, Bobby and I found ourselves in the dimly lit salvage yard. Every time the wind blew, it sent a chill down my spine. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't afraid that at any moment Sam was about to pop out from behind one of the many scrap cars and shoot us or something. But I kept my nerves in check, and stayed vigilant.
Just as Bobby and I cleared another cluttered section of cars, the sound of a rock hitting one of the cars caught my attention. Right when I turned around to see what it was, Bobby went flying to the ground, his shotgun being involuntarily tossed behind one of the cars. I turned back to see Sam standing over him, blood dripping from a wound on his temple.
Before I had the chance to react, Sam grabbed the bat and attempted to wrestle it out of my hands. Bobby stood up and wrapped an arm around Sam's neck, but it was no use. Sam released the bat with one hand and threw his arm back, his elbow hitting Bobby in the throat.
"Bobby!" I cried as he stumbled back, gagging.
Neither one of us let go of the bat, so while I was distracted, Sam found the leverage to jerk the bat towards me, slamming it into my chest. The air knocked out of me as I let go of the weapon and fell back into a truck. The window shattered as my head came in contact with it. I felt my vision blur, but remained awake long enough to see Sam swing the bat at Bobby, knocking him out cold. After that, everything went black.
HOSPITAL ROOM - NIGHT
DPOV
The lights were off, the only illumination coming from the moon streaming in through the windows. Hilary laid in the bed sound asleep while her father slept in a chair he pulled up next to her. I didn't want to look at how peaceful they seemed knowing what was about to happen.
"It's over. You took the ring off," Tessa said, walking up beside me. "Anyway, I thought you wanted the girl to skate by."
"No one really skates by, do they?" I asked bitterly. Pulling in a deep breath, I made my way over to Hilary's bedside, bending down near her father for a moment. "You should say your goodbyes, man."
Her dad woke up then, looking at Hilary with a smile. "Hey honey, I must have dozed off."
Before I could stop myself, I gently touched her hand. She immediately flatlined and her father began panicking, calling for nurses.
At the front of the bed, Hilary appeared next to Tessa. The little girl looked up at me in question, sadness in her eyes. "I'm dead?"
I nodded, trying to hide how much this was effecting me. "I'm sorry."
"But what about my dad?"
"He'll be fine," I lied.
"Really?"
I swallowed hard, pulling in a deep breath. "I have no idea."
"I can't just leave him. It's not fair!" She cried.
"I know."
"Well, then why?"
"Because...there's sort of a natural order to things," I explained to her, hating every word that fell from my lips.
Hilary furrowed her brow, upset. "Natural order is stupid."
"Well, I agree with you there."
"Come on, honey," Tessa smiled at the little girl, placing her hand on her shoulders.
As she started to walk away with Hilary, Tessa looked over her shoulder at me, giving me an approving nod. But behind me, Hilary's father was on his knees next to his daughter's bed, holding her hand as he sobbed.
There was nothing to approve of that came out of this shit.
Knowing I couldn't take listening to his pleading cries for his daughter any longer, I left.
SINGER SALVAGE YARD - NIGHT
TPOV
After what felt like seconds, my eyes began to flutter open. I noticed the feel of grass under me, the cold chill of metal on my back. My vision was still a bit blurry, but thankfully after a few blinks it returned back to normal.
In my foggy state, it was only then that I realized my arm was above me. I looked around, seeing that I was on the ground up against one of the many cars in the scrap yard. My arm was tied tightly at the wrist with rope that knotted around the car's mirror.
"Shit," I hissed, rather awkwardly getting to my feet by using my left arm to push up on the ground and pulling myself up with the rope around my wrist.
Looking around, I couldn't see Sam or Bobby anywhere, and that worried me.
Why leave me here and take him somewhere else?
Knowing I had to get free from these restraints, I began throwing all my weight backwards, trying unsuccessfully to rip the mirror from the car. It only served to bend the thick metal, but nothing actually broke. I quickly scanned the immediate area for something to cut the rope with, but found nothing.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the shattered window that my head crashed into before. Most of it was lying on the driver seat, but there was about an inch or so still left in the door that was jagged and sharp.
This fucking sucks. I thought to myself as I began pulling the rope as much as possible. Sam didn't leave much free space between my wrist and the mirror, but there was enough that if I pulled hard enough, I could hopefully saw through the rope.
The rope burned, digging into my skin as I forced my arm as far into the vehicle as possible. The more I pulled, the tighter it got, but I kept going until the rope was resting on top of the glass. I quickly began sawing back and forth, ignoring how red my hand was, the circulation being cut off.
After what felt like forever, the rope split and I was free. I quickly loosened it as much as possible and pushed away from the car to go find Bobby.
Making sure to keep quiet, I crept through the salvage yard until I happened upon one of the many old sheds Bobby had sitting around here that he told me he was going to fix up one of these days. I was about to pass it and keep going, but something on the door caught my attention.
Right next to the handle was a bloody handprint. This is where they are.
The windows in the front were covered with plastic, so I made my way around back to find a broken window. I moved the plastic covering it to the side and peered in.
"Listen to me. You don't want to do this. Sam," Bobby pleaded with him from his spot tied to a chair in the middle of the room, a sigil drawn underneath it. There was a metal bucket filled with various items in front of him as well.
I took the opportunity to lift my leg up and over the open window. I lowered myself onto the floor as quietly as possible, listening as Bobby continued. "I've been like a father to you, boy. Somewhere inside, you've got to know that."
"Well, that's just it," Sam said, walking to stand beside Bobby, the blood dripping from the wound in his leg making a trail as he went. He grabbed him by the hair and jerked his head back to reveal his neck. "Sorry."
Just as Sam raised the knife, I grabbed his arm and kicked the back of his knee with my foot. In his shock, he stumbled to his knees, the knife clattering to the ground where it slid across the floor.
Before I could move, Sam jerked the arm I was still holding so that I felt forward, my side hitting the concrete, my back cracking from the sudden movement. The bucket that was sitting in front of Bobby went flying across the room, the contents of it spreading around the floor.
Bobby began struggling in the chair, attempting to get himself out of his restraints. He got his foot free and was stretching it out towards something, but I didn't have the chance to see what, because out of the corner of my eye, I realized Sam was eying the knife.
Knowing I couldn't let him get it, I grabbed the first thing closest to me, which happened to be a crowbar. With all the strength I could muster, I swung it, digging the sharp edge into Sam's wound on his leg. He let out an agonizing cry, instinctively gripping the now gushing wound.
"Vic!" Bobby shouted, his boot hitting something.
The item clattered over to me and I took hold of it, realizing it was the now empty bucket that got knocked across the room. I scrambled to my feet to get some leverage before swinging it, hitting Sam in the head. He fell to the ground with a thud.
Both Bobby and I waited with baited breath for what felt like forever to see if Sam would move, but he didn't so much as flinch.
"What the fuck?!" A voice exclaimed from behind us, scaring the absolute shit out of me. I turned around, nearly hitting the person with the bucket until I realized it was Dean and stopped myself.
"Where the hell did you come from?" I exclaimed.
"Uh…" Dean trailed off, clearly not sure how to answer that question.
"How about we talk later?" Bobby suggested from his spot on the chair.
"Good idea," I agreed, picking the knife up off the ground as I made my way back over to him.
"You might wanna restrain your brother," Bobby told Dean, nodding over to Sam.
Without asking any questions, Dean grabbed some rope from the shelf next to him and tied Sam's arms together while I cut the ropes holding Bobby to the chair.
Once he was free, the three of us carried Sam down to the panic room where we cuffed him to the table, one on each wrist attached to both sides of the bed. Bobby and I explained to Dean everything that happened while we were doing so.
When we finished, the three of us stood outside of the shut and locked panic room.
"We can't keep doing this," Dean said. "What are we, gonna tie him up every time he tries to kill someone? And that's not gonna hold him. I mean, he's..."
"Capable of anything," Bobby finished when Dean seemed lost for words.
Dean nodded, looking up at Bobby with tears in his eyes. "What am I supposed to do here?"
"I don't know," Bobby told him honestly.
Without another word, Dean turned and made his way upstairs. I exchanged a sad look with Bobby before making my way over to the steps, turning around to see him staring at the panic room. Deciding to leave him alone, I made my way upstairs and shut the door behind me. Dean was standing in the hallway, staring at something in his hands.
"What's that?" I asked, looking closer at it, my eyes widening when I realized. "Is that Death's ring?"
"Yeah," Dean nodded, pushing it back into his pocket.
"Wh-"
"Death made a deal with me. If I lasted twenty-four hours as him, he'd give Sam his soul back," Dean explained. My breathing picked up as I opened and closed my mouth, unsure what to say.
"How?" I somehow forced the word out. "Cas-"
"He said he'd put up a wall. Keep the memories of hell out."
"Why?"
"I don't know," Dean shrugged, glancing up at me briefly. "You're not mad?"
As much as it bothered me that I wasn't let in on the plan beforehand, I couldn't find it in me to be angry with Dean. He was desperate for a solution to the problem that faced us. I couldn't be mad at that.
"No," I replied honestly. "I just wish you would've told me."
But I understood why he didn't do that either. He didn't think I could handle it right now. I'm not too sure I'd disagree either. It was...a lot.
"I just wanted to-" Dean paused, his jaw clenched. "I just wanted to get something right. Get something good done, before I talked to you," his jaw relaxed, a stressed expression replaced with a look of utter despair. "But I fucked up. Sam's not getting his soul back."
My heart sank. "What happened?"
"I couldn't do it. I took the ring off because I just- I couldn't take someone I was supposed to. And it- it just spiraled. I had to take it off or-" he paused, shaking his head at himself. "It doesn't matter. I failed."
"You didn't fail, Dean," I replied fervently when he wouldn't meet my eyes. "I'm sure you did what you thought was right."
"Well because of that, Sam won't get his soul back now," Dean said, pushing off the wall, making his way towards the kitchen for a drink, no doubt. I followed along as he continued, mumbling like he was mostly talking to himself. "I've been failing everybody lately."
"You have?" I asked incredulously, tears filling my eyes. I wasn't ready for this conversation, but it didn't seem like I had a choice.
Before I could say anything else, Dean froze at the entrance to the kitchen, his posture stiffening. I walked up beside him, my breath catching in my throat when I saw the tall, thin man sitting in the dimly lit kitchen, a tray full of hot dogs and French fries lying in front of him on the table.
"I brought some for you. From a little stand in Los Angeles known for their bacon dogs," Death said through a mouthful of food, gesturing to the two other hotdogs on the tray. Dean and I shared a confused look, turning our gaze back to Death, who raised an eyebrow. "Sit."
"Boy, what's with you and cheap food?" Dean asked as we complied, the both of us taking a seat on either side of Death.
"I could ask you the same thing," he retorted. "Thought I'd have a treat before I put the ring back on."
"As Death does," I mumbled sarcastically, not realizing I'd actually said that out loud until he looked my way. I cleared my throat. "Sorry."
"Mhm," he sighed, looking back to Dean, who handed him the ring from his pocket. Death held it up, looking it over. "Heavier than it looks, isn't it? Sometimes, you just want the thing off. Wrecking the natural order is not quite such fun when you have to mop up the mess, is it? But you know that."
"Look...I think you know that I flunked," Dean said. "Oh, and by the way...I sucked at being you. Want to know what I think? I think you knew that I wouldn't last a day."
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
"I lost. Fine. But at least have the balls to admit that it was rigged from the jump," Dean said angrily."
Death watched him closely, his voice hard when he spoke. "Most people speak to me with more respect."
Dean's eyes widened in fear. "I didn't mean-"
"Tell me, Dean. If you could go back, would you simply kill the little girl? No fuss, no stomping your feet?"
"A little girl?" I questioned, my heart pounding in my chest. "What-"
"It was her time," Death said, taking another bite of his hot dog. I scoffed, shaking my head in anger. Death turned his attention back to Dean once again. "Well?"
Dean thought about it for a moment, not meeting my eyes. "Knowing what I know now, yeah."
"I'm surprised to hear that. Surprised and glad."
"What on earth could you possibly know that could make you okay with doing that?" I asked Dean, getting upset with his response.
"Because I didn't take the girl, her nurse died. She was supposed to have kids, Tori," Dean said, looking at me with tears in his eyes. "Grandkids. And I fucked it up for her."
"What about the little girl? What about her family?" I argued a point I knew deep down was moot.
"Cheating death would allow nothing but tragedy and pain to follow her for the rest of her time on this earth. Any family she had or could have would most likely die in her place," Death said, folding his hands on top of the table, his eyes boring into mine. "You would know a thing or two about that. Tell me, is it truly something you would be able to inflict on someone else?"
My heart pounded audibly in my ears as he stared at me. I swallowed hard, shaking my head in response as I focused my eyes on the small wood chip missing from the table in front of me to try and distract myself from the thoughts looming over me. But it was impossible.
"It's just not fair," I muttered, barely above a whisper. I didn't move my eyes from the table. I didn't want to look into Dean's. "I'd give up everything for him to be okay."
"I know. Both of you would," Death told Dean and I. "But your son was never born. Even if I wanted to, I can't bring back that which never truly lived. There's no vessel for him to return to," he paused, pulling a deep breath. "The concept is hard for you, I know. You throw away your life because you've come to assume that it'll bounce right back into your lap. But the human soul is not a rubber ball. It's vulnerable, impermanent, but stronger than you know. And more valuable than you can imagine. So...I think you've learned something today."
"Yeah, a little too much," Dean commented, his tone full of sadness.
"We're done here," Death said, wiping the corners of his mouth with a napkin before standing to his feet. "It's been lovely. But now I'm going to go to hell to get your brother's soul."
My head snapped up at his words. Both Dean and I were staring at him in shock. "Why would you do that for me?" Dean asked.
"I wouldn't do it for you," Death replied. "You Winchesters keep coming back. You're an affront to the balance of the universe, and you cause disruption on a global scale."
Dean looked taken aback by his words. "I apologize for that."
"But you have use. Right now, you're digging at something. The intrepid Detective. I want you to keep digging."
"So you're just gonna be cryptic, or…"
"It's about the souls. You'll understand when you need to."
"Wait. Is this wall thing really gonna work?"
"Call it seventy-five percent," Death muttered.
Slipping the ring back onto his finger, Death disappeared from view. Dean and I stared at each other over the table for a moment before realization set in. The two of us pushed up off of our chairs at nearly the same time and rushed towards the basement door with Dean yelling out to Bobby on the way.
Dean flung the door open, revealing a scared looking Bobby standing at the bottom of the stairs. "What happened?"
"Open the door," Dean demanded breathlessly.
Bobby rushed over to the panic room and unlocked the door, opening it just in time for us to see Sam's eyes widen. He began to struggle against his restraints, the whole cot shaking beneath him.
"Get away from me! Don't!" Sam shouted, more emotion in his voice than I've heard in a long time. He almost sounded scared. I followed Sam's gaze, but couldn't see anything but the panic room wall. He continued pleading with the invisible force in front of him, looking over to us, panic written all over his features. "You don't know what'll happen to me! Guys, please! No!"
Suddenly, Sam's chest and neck turned bright red as he gritted his teeth, screaming in agony. I wrapped my arms around myself, tears welling up in my eyes as I watched him writhe.
Almost as soon as it started, Sam stopped moving altogether, his head falling back down to the pillow beneath it with a quiet thud. My breath caught in my throat as I watched him, waiting for any signs of life. There were none. My heart crashed.
"How do we know he's okay?" I asked through a tight throat.
Bobby looked over at me, his eyes still wide from witnessing what we just had. "I don't-"
"Cas?" I called out into the nothingness. "Cas, please. We need your help."
"What is it, Victoria?" Cas answered, appearing behind us.
"You have to check on Sam."
Cas furrowed his brow, his eyes focusing into the panic room behind us. He began walking forward, so we stepped out of his way. "What did you do?" He demanded.
"Death brought his soul back," Dean explained the short version of the story.
"Are you-" Cas turned around to face us, his eyes trained on Dean. "What did I tell you?"
"Please, just check him out," I requested. Cas looked at me for a brief moment before nodding.
Without another word, he stepped into the panic room and shut the door behind him. I followed, about to peer through the open hatch to see what he was doing, but dedicated against it at the last minute. Instead, I opted to lean against the wall, the cold metal sending a chill down my spine.
"I'm gonna-" Bobby began, looking lost for words. "I need a drink."
"You and me both," Dean commented, his jaw set tight as he stared at the panic room door.
After another moment, Cas made his way out of the panic room. I peered inside over his shoulder, seeing Sam lying still on the cot, his chest rising and falling slowly.
"His soul is in place," Cas announced, adjusting his sleeve. I let out a sigh of relief and fear all rolled into one.
"Is he ever gonna wake up?"
"I'm not a human doctor, Dean."
"Can you take a guess?"
"Okay," Cas nodded, his eyes angry. "Probably not."
"Well," Dean scoffed. "Don't sugarcoat it."
"I'm sorry, Dean. But I warned you not to put that thing back inside him."
"What was I supposed to do? Let T-1000 walk around and hope he doesn't open fire?"
"He tried to kill Bobby, Cas," I said. "He needs his soul."
"At what cost, Victoria? Let me tell you what his soul felt like when I touched it," Cas said, taking a step closer to us. "Like it had been skinned alive."
Dean lowered his eyes to the ground. Cas's words upset him, they upset the both of us. But the angel didn't seem to take notice.
"Cas-" I called, attempting to stop him.
Ignoring me, Cas kept going. "If you wanted to kill Sam, you should have done it outright. Haven't you lost enough already?"
A flash of heat flew through my body at his words, anger propelling me forward to close the short distance between me to them. I put myself in the middle of Dean and Cas, the latter of whom now fully directed his glare towards me. I didn't back down, glowering right back.
"How dare you," I spoke sharply. "I think you should go now."
With that, Cas departed, the wind from the abrupt movement of his wings blowing my long bangs out of my face. I tucked them behind my ears and looked up to Dean, whose eyes were still down turned.
"We did the right thing, didn't we?" He asked after another beat of silence.
"This is what Sam would've wanted, no matter the risk," I said, knowing I sounded like I was trying to convince myself more than anything. "He wouldn't want to be walking around like he is now."
No matter what, Sam needed his soul. If he didn't have it, if Sam wasn't really Sam, then what was the point in him even being alive? At least, that's what I kept telling myself.
Hey guys! First of all, I wanna start off by saying that I hope everyone is doing well in this weird new world we've found ourselves in. Never in my life did I think I would experience a pandemic like this, it's crazy.
Anyway, here's another chapter that took too long to write. If you're reading this, thanks for sticking with me even after the last chapter. It means a lot.
You know I love those reviews so keep 'em comin' ;)
Have a good day or night, whenever you're reading this and don't forget to wear your mask!
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