Alicia's room was dark, save for the few lit candles sporadically around, giving the room a sad glow. On the far side of the room, Alicia sat on the floor, leaning against her bed, staring at the photograph of her family in her hands. A few teardrops splashed on the glass of the photograph of Alicia's family. The young woman held her hand over them, palm down, and her hand glowed. The drops shimmered slightly before completely disappearing, and her hand stopped glowing. She stared sadly at the photo, running her fingers lightly over the images of her parents before there was a soft knock on her door.
"Come in," Alicia said quietly, wiping her cheeks. She didn't even look up as she heard the door opening, and the sound of a pair of booted feet across the room to her.
"Mind if we join you?" Sam asked.
Alicia chuckled mirthlessly. "I'm not exactly the best company right now," she replied, but she indicated they could stay if they wanted. Sam carefully sat down next to the young woman, then glanced at Dean, who stood near the dresser, and motioned for him to join them. Dean gave him a look and shook his head, looking a little fearful, but Sam fixed him with a hard and threatening expression. Dean looks a little frustrated, but he sighed before reluctantly sitting on Alicia's other side. "Look, um…sorry about slapping you, Dean."
"Forget it," Dean replied before he briefly rubbed his cheek self-consciously. "I'm…," he took a deep breath and let it out, "look, about what I said—"
"I can't," Alicia interrupted, her voice soft and tearful. "I've tried for five years, but I can't." She shook her head. "Look, I 've come to terms with my mother's death. I mean, I feel guilty she died trying to protect me, and I'm frustrated she's not here, but what happened with Dad," she softly touched her father's image, her chin trembling as she shook her head, "I can't ever forgive myself for that."
"Why not?" Sam asked. "Alicia, it wasn't your fault. You were infected, you blacked out, you couldn't control what—"
"I didn't black out, Sam," Alicia interrupted. Sam and Dean just stared at her..
"What do you mean you didn't black out?" Dean asked, his voice laced with worry.
"I remember what happened that night."
Sam glanced at Dean briefly, not sure what to make of this new revelation. "What do you remember?" he asked.
"Everything," Alicia answered sadly. "It all happened…so fast. One moment, my father and I were messing around with my car's engine, and the next I was collapsing from the worst pain I've ever felt. It took me a few seconds to realize every one of my organs was simultaneously shutting down; I was literally having a heart attack as my kidneys and liver were failing. My blood felt as if it was on fire, and every bone in my body was cracking and twisting as my muscles and skin felt like they were tearing apart. I tried to scream, but my vocal chords felt as if they were being ripped out. It was so excruciating, and I kept hoping I'd pass out, but I wasn't even lucky enough to get that before I became that…monster."
"Dad tried to help me," the young woman continued, tears streaming down her face, "but I attacked him. I tried fighting it, but I couldn't control myself—I just kept ripping and tearing at him, blood everywhere, while he screamed and begged for me to stop." Her chin quivered her as she fought to keep from breaking down. "The last thing he said to me as he choked on his own blood was 'I love you'…and I responded by ripping his heart out." She shook her head, looking down ashamed. "Tell me, after that, why I deserve any forgiveness." She started sobbing quietly.
Sam had to choke back his own tears as he sympathetically put his hand on Alicia's shoulder, glancing at Dean. When he saw his brother's crestfallen expression, his own eyes bright, Sam knew that neither of them had expected to hear that, but it was definitely more than enough to explain the young woman's behavior.
"Because your father thought so," the younger Wincester replied gently. Alicia lifted her head, tears streaking her flushed cheeks, staring at him, unconvinced. "Alicia, you've gone through something truly horrific, something no one should ever go through, and if we were in your shoes we'd probably be feeling the same."
"But you dad knew it wasn't your fault," Dean added. "He knew he was going to die, but he used his last words to let you know he wasn't blaming you. I'm sure Bobby told you the same thing."
"Bobby doesn't know," Alicia said quietly.
"You never told him?" Sam asked. Alicia shook her head. "Why not?"
"Because he found me standing over his brother's body, covered in his blood," Alicia replied. "I was responsible for killing him. He'd hate me if he knew the truth."
"No, he wouldn't," Sam said. "He'd want to know the truth."
"How would you have felt if it had been Dean in my father's place?" Alicia asked. She turned to Dean "How would you have felt if it had been Sam?"
Sam and Dean looked at each other, their expressions unreadable as they contemplated what Alicia had asked. They both knew what their instincts were telling them, what years of training had taught them, but sitting with Alicia and learning her truth was tinting their black and white world with shades of gray.
"I don't know," Dean replied honestly after a few moments, "but I'll tell you one thing: we wouldn't have killed you."
"Why not?" Alicia asked.
"You're Bobby's family," Sam replied simply.
"And Bobby is our family," Dean added, "and that makes you our family. And the one thing we always do is take care of family, no matter what." Alicia just stared at him for a time before her resolve crumpled, and she burst into tears.
Dean briefly appeared panicked by her sudden outburst, but he composed himself and put his arms around the young woman, holding her protectively as she leaned against him, crying. He glanced over at Sam, and the younger Winchester had a look of approval on his face. He mouthed 'I'll talk to Bobby', and Dean nodded slightly. Sam carefully stood up and made his way out of the room, leaving Dean to comfort the crying young woman.
Fifteen minutes later, Bobby sat at the kitchen table, papers and open books spread out, trying to do research for a case on his laptop, but Bobby's thoughts were far from what he was supposed to be working on. He heard the sound of footsteps approaching and looked up to see Alicia standing on the other side of the sliding doors. Unlike her normal confident demeanor, she appeared troubled, and he could tell she'd been crying recently.
"Hey," she said quietly.
"Hey," Bobby replied. "Sam said you wanted to talk." Alicia nodded, and Bobby exhaled sharply as he pushed aside his research. "I'm all ears." Alicia hesitated, then swallowed nervously before stepping into the kitchen. She slowly walked over to the table, as if she were on her way to her own execution, and sat down at the table opposite her uncle, keeping her eyes down. "Allie?"
"There's something I need to tell you," Alicia said. She swallowed nervously as she looked up, her eyes bright with fresh tears. "It's about what happened the night," her chin quivered, "Dad died."
Bobby's expression softened. "Sweetie, what is it?" he asked.
Alicia took a deep breath, hesitating to gather her courage, before she let the words come out. Everything that she had bottled up inside her for five years, every detail about that night she could remember, poured out as she desperately tried, in vain, to keep from crying. Bobby just sat there, quietly listening to his niece, until she finished.
The young woman just sat there, her gaze downward, ashamed, waiting to hear her uncle just start laying into her, but the only sound she heard was the sound of a chair scraping against the floor and footsteps moving around. The young woman's body shook, not bothering to wipe the fresh tears that spilled from her cheeks. She knew without a doubt Bobby was so disgusted by what she had told him he didn't even want to be in the same room with her.
"Hey." She suddenly stiffened at the familiar voice to her right, and she slowly looked over to see Bobby kneeling beside her, looking at her with compassionate eyes, bright from tears he was holding back. "Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"
"I thought you'd hate me," Alicia replied, her voice cracking. "That you'd never forgive me."
"Allie, it wasn't your fault."
"But I remember everything."
"It doesn't mean you were in control, sweetie." He took Alicia's face in his hands, his voice firm but gentle as it cracked slightly. "Your daddy told you with his dying breath he wasn't blaming you. I never once blamed you for what happened to him or your momma, and that doesn't change now. You want me to forgive you, but I'm not forgiving something you don't need forgiving for."
"But I—"
"Allie, do you really think your parents would want to see you like this?" Bobby interrupted. "They were strong people, and I see both of them in you, but if you continue letting this guilt eat at you, it will destroy you—and I don't want that son of a bitch demon taking you, too."
Through her tears, Alicia looked right at her uncle and saw nothing but love and compassion looking right back at her. The guilt and self-loathing she had pushed inward for five years, tormenting herself, started to feel less heavy, and she dissolved into body wracking sobs. Bobby didn't say anything as he moved his arms around her, holding his niece as she clung to him, crying into his shoulder. Neither of them noticed the sliding doors to the living room quietly being closed.
"We might want to go out for lunch," Sam suggested as he turned to face his brother and father. "They're going to need some time." He noticed John's troubled expression. "What?"
"So, she really remembered everything that happened that night?" John asked.
"Yeah," Sam replied, "and she's been punishing herself ever since."
"No one should go through that," John said. "Ever."
"But it's okay to ask your own son to shoot you in the heart," Dean spoke up, looking right at John disapprovingly.
"That was my choice, Dean," John replied firmly. "I had the demon, I was struggling to hold it, and I was choosing to give my life to end this."
"And Sam was choosing not to kill you," Dean retorted. "We get it, we want that son of a bitch dead, too, but not at the expense of our family. Look at how much Allie's screwed up because of this thing, Dad, and you think Sam or me would have been any better off? Be honest: if that demon had been possessing Sam or me, would you have really been able to shoot us to stop it?"
John opened his mouth, but as he looked between his two sons, seeing their expressions, the answer he thought he could confidently give with no hesitation suddenly didn't seem like the right answer. He took in a deep breath and let it out. "No," he replied. "I wouldn't." Dean and Sam glanced at each other, a little surprised but pleased. "But that still leaves us with one bullet in the Colt and no idea where the demon is."
"And we'll find it," Sam promised, "but I think right now we have something more important to deal with."
"You really think after five years of guilt and self-loathing," Dean asked, "Allie's going to just magically agree to trying the cure?"
Sam shrugged. "I don't know," he replied. "Maybe. I mean, she did open up earlier about why she didn't think she deserved it—and I don't think she's ever done that before. Maybe she just needed people closer to her age to talk to."
"Well, thank you, Dr. Phil, for that wonderful insight," Dean said, "but something tells me it's not going to be that easy." The three of them looked over as the sliding doors opened, and Bobby and Alicia stepped into the living room. Both of them looked a little more cheerful than they had a short time ago, which made Dean a little uneasy. "Okay, that was quick, and you two look rather chipper, considering."
"Considering Alicia's finally decided to stop blaming herself like an idjit," Bobby replied, "I think that's something to be pleased with."
"So, you're going to try the cure?" Sam asked Alicia.
Alicia nodded. "Yeah."
"That's great," Sam replied sincerely. "What changed your mind?"
"Finally realizing that the only person blaming me for what happened was myself," Alicia replied. Sam looked at Dean, silently gloating, and the older brother responded with an eye roll.
"Great," Dean said. "So, we do the cure, and then, what—bam—it's over, just like that?" Bobby, John, and Alicia shared a three-way glance, which both brothers recognized. "What?"
"It's not that simple," John answered. "When I said the actual cure was dangerous, I meant it. It's going to be one of the most dangerous things we've ever done, and—"
"And there's a lot to be done before we can do anything," Alicia interrupted. "Now, I know there's some things Bobby needs to get, and I have a few things in my stash, but I'll have to get the rest from my garden. I'll take Sam and Dean with me and fill them in while you two stay here and start getting things set up." She didn't wait for a response as she brushed past everyone and headed out the front door. Sam and Dean glanced at each other before wordlessly following.
(End of Chapter 8)