Oh no, I'm not afraid to bleed
Work my hands to the bone
More words are not what you need
I let my labor show
Can't do it on my own, I need you to believe
So please, please, squeeze
Cause there's more in this bloodstone
Yeah, there's more in this bloodstone
BLOODSTONE
Present Day
Bobby's House
Sioux Falls, SD
Beth's POV
"What do you mean you're going to Chicago?" I asked Sam urgently, my voice barely a whisper as we spoke in the kitchen over donuts and coffee. "I need you here!"
"I can't do this, Beth, I need… we all need a break. I have to get away, I can't, I can't act like nothing happened two days ago…..do you …" Sam stopped, catching himself.
I stared him down, a combination of sorrow and understanding in my eyes. Of course I knew what it was like to lose someone you loved. I'd lost Dean once, and I was losing him again.
"Why Chicago?" I asked, relenting a little. I didn't like seeing him go off alone, it felt too exposed with Lucifer running around.
"I have my reasons, okay?" Sam hedged.
"You're going to have to give me more than that to let you go," I persisted. Sam sighed, running a hand through his hair, pushing it back. It had been getting longer and longer, and I found myself wishing for the days where we were kids again, when life seemed so much simpler.
"You can't stop me, Beth," he pointed out. "You have enough on your plate." He glanced sideways into the library where Dean was sitting on the couch. He had his eyes closed, head leaning against the back of the couch. I wasn't sure, but he could have been asleep, it had been so hard to tell these days.
"That's exactly why I need you here, I can't protect you if you're off on a road trip," I whispered furiously.
"I don't need you to protect me!"
"You said we wouldn't split up!"
"When we're hunting… when we're dealing with Lucifer, Beth. But that's not what we're doing right now. Lucifer is in the wind. No one knows where he is, we have no leads." Sam replied, his eyes imploring me to see it from his perspective. He needed to get away, he was telling me that, seeing Dean practically catatonic was driving him insane.
"I need this Beth. There's someone I gotta see…"
"Who? Who do you have to see Sam?"
"It's… I just have to, okay?" Sam turned that puppy dog look on me, the one that worked so well when he was trying to get something out of someone. I felt my heart melt at the sight of it, and scowled.
"Don't pull that look on me Samuel Winchester, I know what you're doing," I countered, shaking my index finger at him like I was an angry mother.
Sam grinned at me. "Is it working?" He asked, leaning his head to the side, the last nail in the coffin.
I sighed, pushing my hair behind my ears, dropping my mug into the sink next to me. "Okay, fine. But what am I supposed to do about Dean?" I asked.
Sam shrugged his shoulders, backing toward the doorway and picking up his pack. "I don't know Beth, I wish I did." He paused, looking toward the library and then back at me. "Maybe… maybe ask yourself, what would Dad do?"
Searcy, AK
14 Years Ago
Entry from John's Journal
"Four weeks. If I thought raising two boys into hunting was a difficult thing, it has nothing on what it's like to bring a daughter, almost fully grown, into it. Patrick never wanted this for Beth, but he's not here now. I can't help but think how different things might have been if she'd been aware of what is out there. Would she have worn that amulet? Would she have paid more attention, like Dean does, and looked deeper than the surface? I can't ask these questions, all I know is I am glad that the boys know how to protect themselves. Even if something happens to me, I know they have a fighting chance. That's all I'm trying to give Beth now - a fighting chance at moving past the horrors she's just been through. If I have to be drill sergeant to do that, I will."
Searcy, AK
14 Years Ago
Beth's POV
Blood.
So much blood.
Just when I thought I had gotten it out, there it was again, like the damned spot on Lady MacBeth's guilty hands.
I was in the bathroom again. We'd been to at least five different motels in the time since we fled Wisconsin. John wanted to make sure that we put enough distance between who I used to be… and who I was now.
The tiles in this bathroom were old and worn, not unlike most of the places we'd stayed so far. These ones had caught my attention as soon as we'd arrived three hours earlier. They were blue, like the bathroom … at home.
It wasn't home anymore, it was nothing.
Out… damned spot. Out.
I took the washcloth and scrubbed at my hands. I knew they were clean, I knew it. But I still couldn't stop.
So much blood.
The door opened to the bathroom, but I didn't look up. I felt the tears, anger, shame, despair wash down my face as I continued to scrub, my skin starting to feel raw.
After a moment I heard Sam calling out for Dean. It was always him they sent. John had tried, so hard, to understand what I was going through. But he'd stopped trying in these moments.
I wanted to stop. I needed to be strong, to prove myself to John.
I. Must. Stop.
"Beth." His voice was like smooth honey, a balm for my aching soul. Still I scrubbed.
"I can't," I said, shaking my head at Dean as the water ran over my fingertips. "It's still there."
"No it's not," he said softly, and like he always did, he reached out to take my hands in one of his. I stilled, and he turned off the water with the other hand, grabbing the handtowel from the rack on the wall.
I sniffed back tears, refusing to look at him as he delicately dried my hands. The stark white colour of the towel highlighted the redness of my skin, and I bit down on my lip, struggling not to cry further.
"It's okay," he said, seeing me struggle. Within seconds he had pulled me in against him, his arms wrapping around my shoulders and holding me to his chest. I tucked my face into his shoulder, my hands gripping his back so fiercely as I let the sobs come. I shook violently as a week of repressed emotion escaped me.
"I'm trying…" I whimpered into his t-shirt, squeezing him tighter, and feeling his arms respond in kind.
"It's okay," he said, "I know. You're doing fine. You're going to be fine."
Present Day
Sioux Falls, SD
Bobby's House
Beth's POV
It had been six days since Sam had left. There was no improvement.
I'd packed the car. Bobby was sitting in his wheelchair in the library, watching me as I prepared for the next stage of trying to snap Dean back into this world.
"I sure hope you know what you're doing," he commented as I picked up my jacket and sshrugged into it, flipping my hair over the top. I paused, looking at him and sharing a moment of concern. He didn't like that I was leaving, any more than I had protested over Sam going to Chicago.
But this was the only way.
Sam's suggestion, asking me what John would do, made me pull out the old journal of his from the wardrobe upstairs. I'd flipped through the old, familiar pages and contemplated what it was going to take to break through to Dean.
It hurt to see how bad I'd been after my father had been murdered by my own hand, courtesy of the demon … of Ruby… inhabiting me. I shuddered, trying to shake the desperation clawing at my chest from getting a foothold.
Train. Fight. Keep moving.
It was the only option I could think of. And it had to be done on the road, somewhere new. Too many memories in this house left us stuck in the past. We needed a fresh start to focus our attention. I'd gotten a call from one of John's old hunting buddies - he wanted our help, he needed us to come to Oklahoma.
Dean wasn't ready… hell, he was barely mobile. For the last week he'd sat, downing beer after beer as he watched the TV, taking in the ramifications of our failure. Tornadoes, freak snow storms, floods and earthquakes along the coast….and now I was thinking of taking us, unprepared, into the heart of tornado country.
"We can't turn our back on Martin," I said. "If I have to go in there alone, I will."
"That doesn't sound smart," Bobby replied.
"Since when do we do smart, Bobby?" I asked, sinking down on the couch. Dean was upstairs in bed, I'd sent him there last night, and he hadn't come down since. "This is the only way I know how to get through to him. I'm going to take him to Stillwater. He saw me through some of the worst times of my life while we were there. And I'm going to get him through this."
Bobby looked skeptically at me, and I threw him a determined look. "I will not let this be his Albuquerque, I won't!"
It was a calculated move, bringing up Martin and the hunt that had been his final straw, but it worked. Bobby's face softened, and he nodded slowly.
"If anyone can, you will," Bobby said. "But I want you to be careful. And if you can't get through to him, call Sam in to back you up on Martin's case."
I looked into his eyes, seeing the fear and the worry. I sucked in a breath and nodded curtly. "Okay."
Footsteps sounded behind me in the archway leading into the library. I turned to see Dean standing there, looking at me without an ounce of emotion.
"I'm leaving," I said. I saw the briefest flicker of concern, something, behind those eyes. He was in there, it was time. "You're coming with me."
Dean shook his head, eyes following me as I crossed the room. "I can't," he said after a moment.
"Yes," I countered, reaching up to place a hand against his cheek. "You can. You have to."
He let out a sigh and leaned into my palm, closing his eyes.
"Come on, soldier," I said, seeing his eyes open quickly. "Let's go."
He glanced past me to Bobby, taking in both me and the man who was sitting silently, watching us. Dean wavered, a hesitant glance from Bobby to me.
"Get in the car," I said shortly.
He frowned, shaking his head.
"It wasn't a request, Dean," I pointed out, moving beside him. "I said, get in the car."
When he didn't move, I pushed him toward the door. He responded, swinging around and throwing a half-hearted punch at me. I blocked it mid-air, holding his wrist and then pulled him in against me, our mouths mere inches apart.
"You want a fight?" I asked, cocking my head to the side. "Good. It's a damn sight better than what you've been doing the last week."
Dean scowled at me, and shoved, hard. "Leave me alone, Beth."
"Dean!" Bobby growled at him, but fell silent when I held my hand up to him, gesturing for him to let me handle it. He scowled, and shook his head, rolling his chair across the room and out toward the back of the house.
"No," I said, moving to follow Dean as he headed toward the kitchen, the fridge.
As he grabbed a beer, I took it out of his hand and threw it in the sink, hearing the glass shatter against the porcelain.
"Hey!" He complained, a hand coming up to grab me around the throat. "I need that."
"No, you don't Dean," I said, gripping his wrist tightly, staring at him while I swallowed against his fingers. "You need to get out of this house, and stop wallowing. You think Ellen and Jo would want to see you like this?"
Dean released me, his chest heaving with the effort of trying to restrain himself. "You don't say that to me."
"I'll say what I need to, and you listen good Dean Winchester. This… this is not the end for us. You don't get to sit down and give up, not on my watch." I stopped, looking at him. His shoulders slumped in front of me, and he shook his head.
"I'm going with or without you," I pushed. Hoping that the idea of me leaving, alone, was enough of a terrifying thought to stir him to action.
"No, you're not going anywhere," he replied, bristling. Ah! There was that spark I was looking for.
"No?" I asked, crossing my arms. "What are you going to do, Dean? Lock me in the panic room?"
Dean's eyes flicked toward the basement and I could see him considering it. "Don't tempt me."
I sighed heavily, appealing to whatever was left of the fighter inside him. "What do you want me to do, huh? Sit around and wait for the end of the world? Take up knitting while Lucifer has a freaking bloodthirsty parade down Rodeo Drive? I don't think so."
"Sam wants to go wandering off, doing god knows what, fine," Dean countered. "But you, me? We're a team."
"Then start acting like it!" I snapped, seeing the hurt flash in his eyes. I softened instantly, moving to touch his arm. He was stiff at first, and then he sighed - almost imperceptibly, but it was something. I wrapped my arms around his neck and squeezed tight, letting him feel my body against his even as he stood with his arms hanging at the side, unrelenting.
"Dean, please. I need you," I said softly. When he didn't argue, I pulled back and looked deep in his eyes.
"Come on," I said, taking his hand. Just as he had so many years ago when I couldn't get moving. "Let's go."
I tugged, feeling the resistance, but I simply pulled harder. With a heavy footstep, he started to move, and we passed out of the house on to the deck.
The Impala was at the door, packed, ready for us to get back on the road again. I'd given it a wash yesterday, shining and polishing her until she gleamed in the sunlight. Dean had ignored the whole thing, staying indoors. I paused and ran my eyes along his weary face, hoping for something, anything to tell me I was on the right track.
The wait seemed forever, but after a few seconds his face seemed to take on a more determined look. As if he was remembering all those times we'd spent in the car, driving, going new places, hunting. He nodded to himself and then went to get in the passenger seat.
Disappointment settled on my chest like a dark rain cloud, seeing him not take the wheel. Okay, so it had been a bit foolish to think he was going to revert to the same old Dean just by seeing his beloved car. But I'd hoped it would be that easy. Still, he was in the car, out of the house. There was a tiny bit of silver lining to that rain cloud.
"Baby steps, Beth," I muttered to myself. "Baby steps. Just get him moving."
14 years ago
Stillwater, OK
Motel
Beth's POV
It was so much easier to stay in the dark. I turned my head away from the sunlight streaming through yet another motel room, eyes tightening against it's bright start to the day.
Sam was already up, gone to the library to get a break from John and Dean. I could hear them moving around in the room. John was cleaning guns, talking about starting weapons training with me. Dean was voicing his doubt on whether it was too soon for that.
"Ready or not, she has to learn to fight," John said, and there was a pause. Were they watching me? I lay still, pretending to be asleep.
"It's been six weeks, Dad," Dean said.
"It took me just as long to start getting my head into this when your mother was taken from us," John replied. "She has to get up, Dean. Or she never will."
Dean sighed. I listened as he silently took John's unspoken order, and walked over to me. A shiver ran down my back, I could feel his gaze on me, watching and contemplating.
"Get her up," John repeated.
Dean's warm hand came out to shake my shoulder and I sighed, rolling on to my back.
"Knew you were awake," he smirked, his eyes twinkling at me.
"So?" I asked, and I rolled away from him again, pulling the pillow over my head.
It was the same dance we'd been doing for a few days now, John had been patient with me, not forcing the issue. I think he didn't really know what to do with a girl. If I'd been Dean, or Sam, he'd be yelling, giving orders. But I was… new.
Everything was new.
Nothing stayed the same with John. We were always on the move from one town to another. I missed my home, I missed going to school and seeing my friends. I never thought I'd say that about school. Most of all, I missed my gentle Dad - the way he would cheerfully wake me up in the mornings, always in an infectiously good mood.
No one was happy with John. I was starting to regret begging for him to take me with him. My only respite was Dean and Sam, the way they treated me like I was one of their own, so protective. Sam's humour and wisecracks reminded me of having my Dad next to me. Dean… well, he was Dean.
I felt guilty I was giving him a hard time. He'd been unwavering in his support, and he stood up for me with John when he could. But I could see the toll it was taking on him, the hard looks John gave him every time he failed to get me moving.
The guilt alone almost made me turn around. Most days it did. But not today. How could I get up today? It was… Saturday, again. The sixth Saturday since my Dad died. I hadn't seen a grave, I didn't get to say my goodbyes, I was just… gone. Displaced. Out of time and out of hope.
I heard John get up and walk into the bathroom, and almost right away the sound of running water.
"Come on Beth…" Dean said, shaking me again. "You have to get up."
"Move," John's voice was right behind me, and I heard Dean step aside. The next I knew the covers had been thrown back. I frowned, turning to look over my shoulder, at the same time I was hoisted out of bed.
"Huh?"
"Sorry baby girl, but enough is enough," John whispered, balancing me in his arms, and carting me into the bathroom. There was a fine mist from the warm water in the shower rising up to the ceiling, an old droning fan trying hard to suck it out, but failing.
"Wait, what…?"
My voice trailed off as John unceremoniously dumped me in the small bath, the shower head pelting water down on me, clothes and all.
"Hey?!" I spluttered. My hair started sticking to my face, and I brushed it out of my eyes glaring up at the man standing over me, his expression a mixture of frustration and … something else I couldn't place. I wasn't used to be tossed around like a ragdoll - my Dad had never pushed me around in his life! This was new to me, and I didn't like it.
"This is for your own good, Elizabeth. You can't sit and wallow, you need to move, and keep moving. It's the only way. What's done is done, we can't change it, but we can affect the future. I will not let this thing, that creature, take you from us too." John's form was imposing - I tried not to give in to the hopelessness that I was feeling, but it was rushing to the surface with every little thought.
You're not my dad! I didn't say it, I didn't want to risk that I'd push him so far as to dump me at the next bus stop, and abandon me forever. But he wasn't. My Dad would never have done this to me…. He would have hugged me, and told me I was going to get through this. Tears brimmed in my eyes as I wrapped my arms around my knees, biting my lip. But he was gone.
Inside of me, all the pain and heartache from the day washed over me, as surely as the water was pounding down over my body right now. I buried my face against my knees, trying to hold back the sobs, and failing.
A darkness was moving in my heart, wanting to drown me, and I couldn't help but wonder if that would just be easier.
John sighed, and left the bathroom, the door closing firmly behind him. I cried fully then, unable to move.
Present Day
Stillwater, OK
Motel
Beth's POV
We'd only been through Stillwater a handful of times in the fourteen years since I'd first joined the Winchester family. Even then it was only driving through, not stopped like the first time. It seemed to me that not much had changed in all those years.
The same mom and pop diner on the corner stood, still advertising the county's best pie, just as it had then. The shop fronts seemed a little more modernised, and a brand new Biggerson's was at the end of the main drag, but in my eyes, it was the same little town where Dean had brought me back to life.
I glanced over at him, hoping to see some flicker of recognition in his face. I made a point of checking us into the same motel we'd stayed in that fateful week. Maybe it would remind him of what he'd done for me. But he wasn't giving anything away.
"Come on," I said gently, opening the passenger door and inclining my head toward the motel room. "Here it is."
I turned and opened up the door, flinging it open. For a moment I was transported back in time. Not much had changed. With the flip of the light switch I noticed new bed linens, and a recovered couch, but the decor was the same monotonous brown - tired and worn, chips in the edges of the night stands, scratches along the counter against one wall, and the same tired wallpaper starting to fade. .
The electronics had been upgraded, a new television to go with the times, and a remote on the nightstand by the bed. It wasn't the same room we'd stayed in, but it could have been cut from the same mold.
Dean pushed past me and flopped down on a bed, leaning against the headboard and grabbing the remote. The TV blared to life, and he started channel surfing while I watched him quietly. This was not going to be easy, and I was starting to feel the pressure of Martin's call for help weighing down on me.
One step at a time.
John's words were never far from my head. His wisdom and training drilled into us day and night. It wasn't until I was lost that I started to see the gift he'd given us. Even if it had killed us to obey at the time. I forced back the sad ache in my chest as I thought about how he was gone from us, just like Ellen and Jo were. Spinning on my heel, I went to the car and grabbed our bags, before kicking the room door closed again.
"You know, you really could use a shower," I commented.
Dean grunted.
"I could really use a beer," he replied and I rolled my eyes at him.
"Tough," I said. "You're not getting any until you start resembling something more like the man I married."
Dean laughed, shaking his head and tossing the remote on the bed next to him.
"You forget, Beth," he said, standing up and coming to stand in front of me. "I was a broken man the day we got married."
"You still had some fight in you, there was still blood to get out of that stone," I replied.
"Pointless blood. Look at everything that happened…" he said, frowning.
"Dean, I know it isn't easy…" I said, sucking in a breath. "You think I'm not hurting? You think I don't wish we could go back and change what happened?" He didn't move, his face unresponsive. "We can't, if you taught me anything, it's that we have to move forward. We can't give in to wallowing."
"That was Dad, not me," he said, a bitterness to his tone.
"You didn't let me give up," I pushed. "He might have pushed me… but you held me the whole way."
"What are you doing, Beth? Huh?" He asked, shaking his head, a wry smile on his face. "You think a trip down memory lane is going to fix things? You think it's going to magically make it all better?"
I sighed, reaching out and squeezing his biceps with my hands. "No," I said. "I was hoping it might help you remember that we're a team, and…. And I've got you, Dean. Now. All you have to do is let me in."
For a moment he wavered, eyes looking forlornly at me, the sorrow and heartache from the past week weighing heavily in those green orbs. "I'm sorry," he said, shaking his head. "But you're wrong."
Pushing me aside, he left the room, closing the door behind him. Sinking on to the bed I let out a long, slow breath and flopped back against the mattress. It was going to be a long day.
Stillwater, OK
14 years ago
Motel Bathroom
Dean's POV
I think the only person more surprised than Beth, was me, when Dad dumped her in the shower and walked out. I had never seen him like that. His annoyance, and frustration was coming off him in waves. I had never seen him at a loss for how to deal with someone before. But Beth wasn't just anyone, and I knew that he had grown to care about her like he did me or Sam.
Beth's sobs were muffled from the closed door, and I hesitated, standing in the middle of the motel room my gaze going from the bathroom door, to Dad who was gathering up his jacket and car keys.
"Dean, you have to deal with this," he said, waving his hand in the air. "Before I say something I shouldn't."
I gulped, nodding at him with wide eyes. As soon as he left I was at the bathroom. I knocked three times, and then turned the handle. Beth didn't respond, but her sobs subsided into sniffles as I poked my head around the door to look at her.
She was sitting, still fully dressed, under the showerhead as its water pounded down over her, soaking every inch of fabric and skin. When she saw me, she wiped at her face and sat up a little, and I could see her shaking. It wasn't a cold shower based on the steam in the room, so I knew it wasn't the temperature. She was simply exhausted, and fragile.
I stepped inside and closed the door again, reaching for a towel.
"Come on," I said gently, moving to squat next to her. "Let's get you dry."
She sniffed back a couple of tears and nodded, putting her hand out to me. I grabbed it, and stood up. Once I had my balance, I nodded at her. "Ready? One...two... threeee…" I pulled as she got her feet under her, waiting for her to balance before I reached behind and turned off the tap.
As I did that, I was acutely aware how close I was to the dripping girl, she was like a drowned cat rescued from a roaring river. I smiled encouragingly at her as her teeth started to chatter.
"Okay, let's… uh. Well, we need to get you out of … those…" I gestured at the wet t-shirt and shorts she had on, soaked and clinging to her skin. Every inch of her body was accentuated by it. I frowned, reminding myself not to look at her like that…. This wasn't another girl at school, or at the pool hall!
As Beth stepped out of the tub, I saw her legs waver slightly and then she suddenly collapsed in my arms.
"Whoa!" I said, guiding her to the toilet and slamming the lid shut before seating her on it. "Hey, whoa, what's going on with you?"
Beth shook her head, wrapping her arms around her body. "I don't know. I'm just so….
tired. I can't move, Dean."
Shock? Maybe. Fatigue, definitely. I started to think about the last time we'd eaten… Beth had picked at her food, not really consuming anything.
"How long has it been since you've eaten?" I asked, frowning at her. Beth shrugged, dropping her head down where she covered her face with her hands.
"Jesus…" I cursed. I had to get some food into her.
"Okay, we're going to get you dressed, and then… we're getting burgers."
Beth didn't resist as I reached over her shoulders and started to pull on the hem of her shirt, peeling it away from her skin. It wasn't until I'd gotten it over her head that I realised my mistake. She was still in pyjamas… and as the t-shirt pulled away I caught an eyeful of two small, perky breasts, the nipples hard from the cold air of the room.
"Ah!" I looked up instantly, feeling myself responding even though I didn't want to. I wasn't supposed to look at her this way! "Uh, here," I added, holding out the towel in front of me, covering her. Beth didn't respond, and when I looked down she was rocking quietly, biting on her lip.
"Okay," I muttered, looking anywhere but there. "You need to try and help me a little, Beth." I wrapped the towel around her from the front, tucking it in at the side. Modesty achieved, I let out a breath. Step one.
Grabbing another towel from the rack, I knelt down and started to rub at her bare legs, chuckling a little at the fine hairs that were growing there because she hadn't bothered to shave in a while. But the smile disappeared almost as quickly as it came, not taking care of herself like that, and not eating, was a sign that things were way worse than I had realised.
As I moved my hand, slowly, concentrating on the way the other towel ended just above her knees, I hesitated to go higher, my hand, wrapped in the towel I was using to dry her body, pausing on her inner thigh.
Glancing up, I saw her watching me, eyes as deep and dark as hot chocolate. Jesus!
"You uh, you do this part, I'm going to get some clothes for you," I said, dropping the towel in her lap and standing up, almost racing out of the room.
On the other side of the door, I adjusted my boxers, feeling the instinctual reaction of myself hardening to what I'd just been doing. Shit! Think of anything else… think of old Mrs Harrison and how she liked to cut her toenails while watching Soap Operas… she would let the nails fall into the carpet and… Ah! Better. I felt myself soften, and then opened Beth's bag, pulling out a random pair of jeans, some underwear and a t-shirt.
I hurried back to the bathroom; Beth hadn't moved.
"Come on," I said, trying to muster a smile. "Work with me here."
"I can't."
"Yeah, you can, Beth," I replied, keeping my tone firm but not harsh. "Let's just get you dressed, huh? Baby steps."
Beth shrugged and sat back a little.
"You're… not… going to make this easy on me, huh?"
I got a tiny little smile out of her then. Fleeting. She was testing me, seeing how determined I was to go through with getting her out of bed and to that diner. I raised an eyebrow at her, the corner of my mouth curling up slightly.
"Okay, fine. I'll dress you myself," I said with a grin.
She stilled her face, nothing giving away her thoughts. I hesitated, but then recalled Dad's tone of voice. Do something!
Okay then.
I dropped the other things on the vanity, and grabbed her bra first. It wouldn't be the first time I'd taken a bra off a girl… but putting one on was a new thing. I felt myself starting to stir in my pants again and took a deep breath. Baby steps, baby steps. Mrs Hamilton's toenails… Okay.
I shook my head, seeing her chest rising from each breath she took. Dammit. I slipped the straps over her arms and up to her shoulders, then looked at the towel covering her breasts.
She was really going to go through with this, wasn't she?
"I'm not phased by this sugarpie,' I muttered, crouching in front of her. "Either you do this, or I will."
Our eyes met, and there was a challenge there. One I instantly rose to meet. It wasn't about whether or not I was attracted to her now. This was war. This was her vs. me, and I had to win. Because if I didn't…. I'd lose her. It almost physically hurt to even think about the possibility.
"Okay! Hey, here we go," I said. She doesn't think I'll do it.
I reached out, almost as quickly as Dad had scooped her out of bed and put her into the shower. Tugging the towel down, I held my breath and put the fabric in place, right over her breasts, covering the little pink nipples and then I straightened up, leaning over her and clipping it up at the back. I grabbed the t-shirt equally as fast, and pulled it over her head, guiding her arms into place as she groaned in protest.
"I told you…" I said with a grin.
That done, I pulled her to a standing position and knelt. The towel fell to the floor, but the t-shirt was, thankfully, long enough to cover down there. I gazed up at her, she raised an eyebrow at me and I cleared my throat, taking her knickers and putting them on the floor, lifting her feet and putting them in the holes until I could pull the soft cotton fabric up. As I got to her groin, I tugged the fabric slightly, and she opened her legs so that the item fell into place. Then I repeated the procedure with her jeans.
By the time I was buttoning them up, I was grinning, pleased that I'd gotten through the ordeal without once experiencing a full on hard-on, and knowing that for this round… I'd won. Best not tell Dad about this part though.
I stood up, tossing her my most disarming smile, and she rolled her eyes at me though was unable to hide a smile.
"Happy?" She asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Yep," I said with another grin, taking the towel and turning her around to face away from me as I rubbed at her long tresses. "You're hard work you know?"
"Why do you bother?" She asked, her shoulders rising as she took a deep breath.
I sighed, stepping in to her and wrapping my arms around hers, squeezing her.
"Because I like having you around, sugarpie," I said into her ear. It was the simple truth. "And I don't want to lose that because you can't keep up with the old man."
Beth sighed, leaning back against me.
"Thanks," she said softly, turning to look at where I'd laid my chin on her shoulder.
"Anytime," I smiled at her. "Come on. I'm starving!"
She took a minute to quickly plait her wet hair, and then turned to look at me, conflict swirling in her face.
"What?" I asked.
"What if I can't?"
"You've barely even tried," I persisted, taking her hands in mine. "Look, I know it's hard, Beth. You've… you've lost everything. But I promise, I swear to you that if you give me your all, I'll be here, every step of the way."
She looked down at our joined hands and nodded slowly, as if reaching some kind of decision.
"But you gotta work with me… we're a team now. You, me, we need to be strong so we can look after Sammy." It was the only thing I could think of to get her head in the game. It was what drove me, night and day, and fueled me to be better with each training session. Knowing what was out there, the things that could take us down.
I had failed Dad so many times when I was younger, like the night the Shtriga nearly killed Sam because I had dropped the ball and left him alone. I would never do that again. I felt the same way about Beth now.
Beth looked up, startled. "You… you want me to help you look after Sam?"
"Of course," I said with a smile. "Two of us will be better than one, right?" In fact, she made my days better, even the hard days like this. She gave me another purpose for living.
"Right," she replied, and then she nodded. "You've got a deal. I'm here for you."
I grinned, stepping beside her and wrapping my arm around her, guiding her out into the motel room. "Good."
"I can't believe you actually dressed me." She said, chuckling to herself. She glanced sideways at me, a teasing look in her way-too-young eyes. My breath caught. She wasn't as innocent as she appeared. I found myself wondering whether she'd…. what … who… if? I stopped my mind, pulling back to the moment.
"Whatever it takes to get you moving, sugarpie," I said, grinning at her. "Just don't tell Dad, he would hit the roof, even though it was entirely innocent!"
Was it innocent? I told myself it was, just some play to get her moving. But deep down… I knew better.
Present Day
Stillwater, OK
Motel
Beth's POV
I was starting to worry that I'd truly lost him when, after an hour, Dean walked back into the motel room carrying a bag of burgers and a six pack of beer. He put the beer into the fridge and then turned to take a burger out, silently holding it out to me.
If I'd thought it would do anything to get through to him, I would have told him to shove it, but I was quickly learning that I couldn't fight fire with fire on this one. I reached out from where I was sitting on the bed, and took the burger, nodding my thanks.
There was nothing to say anymore. I felt so tired, exhausted with what I'd done so far, and the driving from South Dakota. I wanted to rest. More than anything. I knew what that felt like - defeat, despair, losing the will to fight. I knew how easy it was to give in to the darkness, lie down, and never get up.
I wouldn't let Dean sink into that!
Pulling back the wrapper, I practically drooled at the double cheeseburger, leaning over the paper and taking a huge bite. I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually eaten, and while I couldn't speak to him, I was grateful that Dean had thought to bring food back for me. It felt like I was maybe getting somewhere.
I had our favourite Spanish Soap on the TV, and I chewed thoughtfully, listening to the virtual drama unfold while Dean moved around the room - shrugging out of his overshirt, kicking off his shoes, grabbing two burgers and a beer before settling next to me on the bed.
At least he'd sat on the same bed. I didn't know what I'd do, say or feel if he'd chosen the empty bed next to us. It was one thing I could at least say about his reaction to Ellen and Jo's deaths. He hadn't stopped wanting to be around me, even if he didn't respond to anything I had to say, for now.
Just the same, I was starting to feel overcome with emotion. Fatigue weighed on me, and I just wanted my husband back. Normal. I inched closer to him on the bed after I finished the burger. He was well into his second, his hand resting comfortably on his thigh while he held the burger in his left hand. As I pressed my leg against his, I felt his attention shift from the TV to me, though his eyes remained forward.
I lay my head against his shoulder, sighing, and thought… just for a moment, that he responded with a sigh of his own. His arm moved up and around me, gathering me closer as I closed my eyes, willing myself not to cry. He was responding… baby steps, dammit, baby steps. I leaned into him and felt his body soften to receive me.
It reminded me of simpler times, caught up in his tender embrace when it was him trying to comfort me, and not the other way around.
14 Years Ago
Stillwater, OK
Diner
Dean's POV
We were back to all business once we left the motel. I could almost imagine Dad's look of relief when he got back and we were gone. Beth seemed to be wearing him down - he didn't know what to do with her. I couldn't help but think that we were going about this all wrong.
Yes, she had to train if she was going to fight. But, she was… well she was a girl… they didn't react to things the same way - did they? The few girls I'd spent any time with were all into their hair, make-up, fashion and nails. Beth wasn't like them, not by any stretch of the imagination. But that didn't mean she hadn't been at one stage.
"Tell me about your friends," I said as we climbed into a booth at the local burger joint and waited for our waitress to bring the menu.
"I don't have any friends," she replied, looking down at her hands.
"Well, maybe not right now, but you did, right?"
Beth hesitated, and I thought I'd said the wrong thing as she wavered between holding it together, and bursting into tears. She took a few deep breaths and then nodded, her shoulders moving up and down in a shrug.
"They were like most kids, I guess. Into football, and all the usual things. We liked going to the movies, and ice skating,"
"Ice skating?" I asked, my interest piqued.
"Yeah, there was this lake further up North, my Dad had a friend with a hunting lodge right on it. In the Winter it would freeze, and I'd get to bring a couple of friends up there during Winter break." She smiled, just a little, her eyes taking on that far away look of someone recalling events in the past.
The waitress walked up to us, handing over a couple of menus and then looking at us. "Can I get you a drink to start?"
"Uh, I know what I want," I said, smiling at her. "You need another minute Beth?"
Beth shook her head negatively, not even looking at the menu.
"I'll have a burger with everything," I said, quickly scanning the appetisers. "And can we get some curly fries too?"
The waitress nodded and then looked at Beth expectantly.
"I'll have the same, just… no onions," she said, shrugging at me. "I hate onions."
"And a couple of cokes, please," I added.
"Coming right up," the waitress said with a smile, wandering back to the front counter. I watched her go for a moment, trying to imagine what it must be like to stay in one place, work the same job day in and day out. It gave me the heebie jeebies. I shrugged it off, and returned to the conversation I'd been having with Beth.
"Next time we're in a town with a rink, we should go," I suggested. I found myself wanting more and more to please this girl, just make her smile, keep her happy, whatever it took.
Beth smiled and nodded, replying, "yeah, I'd like that."
We sat in silence for a moment, looking out the window at the people passing by.
"You ever play that game, where you make up stories about people?" She asked suddenly, leaning slightly forward.
"Oh, you mean…" I glanced around the diner, looking at the people at other tables and spotting my target. "Like that guy?" I pointed to an older man, probably in his late 40's. He was dressed in a black leather jacket, black dress pants and a white shirt and simple grey tie. It was his hair that made me curious, slicked back like some kind of greaser. "Mafia. He's a got a 45 beretta tucked under that jacket in a holster that no one else can see. He has to dress nicely because he's sleeping with the mob boss' wife, but the boss don't know that." I looked over at her, grinning.
"Ah, yes, in fact," Beth paused as the waitress walked by and deposited our drinks and then left. "He's in love with the boss' wife, BUT he's been betrothed to their daughter, a simple girl, with a heart of gold… nothing like he's into. He prefers his women scandalous and a little naughty."
I laughed, nodding at her pick up on the story, leaning forward a little. "He's having breakfast now, but then he'll pick up two coffees to go. Black, strong, just like he likes it. The other will be white with sugar, sweetness for his love. They're about to go jump on a plane…a working holiday to Columbia… where he will be guarding the boss' wife while he's away conducting business. You know what that means…"
"Sex," Beth said, blushing a little and glancing at me. "I wonder if they'll get caught?"
"He's too sneaky for that, look at that hairdo, this is a man who knows what he's doing," I continued.
"But, as much as he wants to spend all this time with his love…" Beth's voice paused as the man across the room took a call on his cellphone. "That's actually his REAL boss…" Beth added. "They are starting to wonder what's taking so long, why they haven't gotten any evidence to put this man behind bars yet."
"Ah, because he's actually DEA!" I chimed in, seeing Beth nod and smile.
"He didn't expect to fall in love with his target's wife, and now he's torn. Does he betray her husband, thus releasing her from a loveless marriage, yet run the risk of destroying her trust and lose her forever. Or does he turn his back on his job, the one thing that gives him meaning?" She finished.
I leaned back, chuckling as our burgers and fries were deposited in front of us, the waitress making a point of checking that Beth's was the one without onions.
I took a bite of my burger and groaned with pleasure, getting a smile from the waitress before she checked if there was anything else we needed. Alone again, we fell into a comfortable silence while we ate.
After a moment, Beth put down her burger and met my eyes with a troubled look.
"What's wrong?" I asked around a mouthful of burger.
"How do you do it?" She asked.
"Do what?"
"Keep going. After everything," she said, sighing heavily. "Your mom… having to look after Sam. Now me. How do you get up in the morning?"
I put my burger down and reached across to take one of her hands in mine, squeezing lightly.
"I do it for Sam. I do it for you, Beth," I said honestly.
"Why?"
"Because… it's my job," I replied, seeing her bite her lower lip.
"I'm your... job?"
Oops. That didn't sound good.
"And I want to." That perked her up a little more. "You're not just a job to me, that came out wrong, but this…" I waved my free hand around the room. "All of this is kept safe, free of monsters, because of what Dad does, of what he's teaching us to do. It's important Beth."
"I just… I don't know how to let go of the pain," she whispered, tears threatening to spill again.
"You just gotta shove it down," I said firmly, nodding more to myself than her. "I know it hurts, and it's still fresh in your mind. I know. But dammit you are so strong. You can do this. I believe in you."
"At least someone does."
"You talking about Dad?" I asked, frowning slightly and receiving a nod in reply.
"He believes in you. I know he doesn't say it much. But… trust me, you wouldn't be here if he didn't think you could do this. If he didn't want you with us." I was certain of that. "So you take all that pain, you shove it right down into the pit of your stomach, and you let it fuel you, okay? Because that's what gets us through the hard times."
Beth nodded slowly, looking down at our hands, squeezing lightly.
"There will be fun again too," I promised. "We've got our whole lives ahead of us. One day, you're going to be in a place where this is a distant nightmare… and you'll laugh again."
"Thank you," she said quietly, taking in what I said. I nodded, letting go of her hand so I could pick up my burger again and take a bite.
We sat there for hours… drinking coke, munching on fries and telling stories of people passing by… eventually we ordered some pie so they wouldn't kick us out. We didn't need to fight today, she just needed to be present in the real world, to see that life goes on. Tomorrow, we would start rifle training. That would give her something to feed the fire. I had a feeling she was going to like it.
Present Day
Sillwater, OK
Motel
Beth's POV
We'd been here three days.
"I'm sorry Martin," I said into the phone, pacing just outside the motel room. "There's been a hold up." I could hear the disappointment in Martin's voice, he started recounting how a woman, Susan, had been killed by the monster last night, her wrists then slit to make it look like a suicide. No one was following up on it, everyone thought she had wanted to die, but that wasn't what a couple of other patients were saying.
"I'll… we'll be there as soon as we can, okay?" I listened to his question about sending Sam instead and sighed. "No, he's across the other side of the country right now." I listened to Martin express his concerns a little longer. "Martin, it's gonna be okay, we'll… we'll be finished up on this other job by tomorrow." He thanked me profusely and then said he had to go.
"Okay, I'll see you soon," I said, hanging up the phone and turning around.
Dean was standing in the doorway, having opened it a crack when I wasn't paying attention.
"You're getting rusty," he commented, when I raised an eyebrow at him.
"I knew you were there," I lied, lifting my chin.
"Now that, I almost believe," he said with a smirk, leaning against the door jamb and crossing his arms. "You lying to Martin too?"
I narrowed my eyes at him, my heartbeat starting to race with anxiety. "I'd really rather not," I said.
"I'm not ready," he said shortly. "Beth…"
"Well, when are we ever ready?" I cut in. "We've had so much go down in the last few years, I feel like I'm losing my mind sometimes. But I need to keep moving, just like you taught me. Just like Dad made us."
"Yeah, well, what if I can't?"
"Don't say that," I said, crossing to him and placing my hands against his face.
"What if I… really can't?"
I saw the doubt in her eyes, the fear. It stopped me short.
What was I doing?
How the hell was turning into Dad going to fix this? Sam was wrong, this wasn't the way forward. Maybe it had worked with fifteen year old me, because we hadn't had a choice. But… what if there was a different way? I took a deep breath and pivoted my perspective.
If I was being honest, maybe this was exactly what I wanted… maybe it was what we both needed.
"Okay, you're right. You're right. If you can't… well then you can't. Everyone has their breaking points, right? I mean, look at Martin - he's been in that mental hospital for how long now? We don't want to end up there, we have control of that, we can just… stop."
As soon as I said it, a feeling of relief washed through me.
"We can just stop."
Dean looked at me, frowning slightly. I didn't know why, I was giving him what he wanted.
"Just like that," he said after a moment.
"Just like that," I nodded. "Someone else can deal with the whole end of the world crap for a change. We'll… pack up our things, right now. Get in the car and drive to Black Earth. We can just, move back into the house, let it all go. Live our lives, Dean."
Dean was nodding, moving back into the room. "Okay, yeah," he said, and I thought I saw his shoulders get a little straighter. He looked like ten years had been taken off his face.
With a smile, he grabbed a towel off the end of the bed, where housekeeping had put them earlier, and headed for the bathroom. "I'm gonna grab that shower," he announced.
Finally! I thought. He so needed it.
I crawled across the mattress and leaned my body up against the headboard, smiling as he disappeared into the bathroom and water started running. I flipped on the TV, Dr Phil was on. With a groan, I turned the TV off again and lay down, staring at the ceiling.
After fifteen minutes I started to get wonder what was taking so long. The water was still running, so either he was taking an extra long shower - one he didn't normal take unless we were both in there doing other things - or … something was wrong.
I flipped to my feet almost instantly, hovering outside the door, hesitant to intrude. After a moment I sucked in a breath and knocked. We never knocked, but somehow… I felt like I needed to make my presence known.
Nothing.
Something was definitely off.
I opened the door a crack and peeped in. The room was sweltering with heat, the fan unable to keep up with the steam rising from the hot water. I stepped into the room a little further and saw Dean on his knees in the bath, his forehead pressed to the tiles, not moving as the shower beat down over his shoulders
"Dean?" I closed the door, hurriedly pulling back the shower curtain enough that I could kneel beside the bath, and touched his back with my hand. "Dean, talk to me."
He shuddered a little, his eyes opening, turning his head slightly so he could look at me.
"I love you," he said quietly, and just like every time he said it, my heart skipped a beat.
"I know," I said. "I love you too."
"Whatever we do, we do it together, right?"
"That's right," I nodded.
"So… no taking off to hunt. Not without me," he said, biting his lip.
"We're quitting," I said, "as of fifteen minutes ago…"
He nodded, turning back to stare down the drain below him. I ran my hand through his hair, pushing it back, wondering what I should do.
"I can't protect you Beth, I can't… I couldn't... " His voice broke, and I saw tears welling in his eyes which he tried to blink away.
"Oh babe…" My heart broke looking at him. I quickly stood up, stripping down to my underwear and stepped under the water with him, pulling the shower curtain back in place to save the floor. I sunk to my knees behind him, wrapping my arms around him and pressing my chest to his back. "It's okay Dean," I said into his ear. "You're safe, I'm here, you can just… let it out."
The water was hitting my back now, washing over the both of us, the hot was starting to fade, leaving us lukewarm and soon, we'd be under a cold rinse.
"I couldn't keep them alive… no one dies on my watch Beth! But now… dammit I failed, I couldn't even kill the damn Devil, it was a completely waste of time, their deaths were for nothing." His hands were shaking, his body wracked with the guilt and self-punishment he'd been putting it through.
"It wasn't your fault, Dean," I soothed. "They were hunters, they knew what they were getting into."
"It doesn't make it okay!"
"No, it doesn't, but it's not your fault." I stood up, grabbing a towel from the rack and stepped on to the bathmat. "Dean, come here, please," I said, and he looked up at me, seeing my extended hand. I was hit suddenly with the reversal of our positions from so long ago. "Let me help you."
He took my hand, and I leaned back, helping him to get to his feet. He groaned softly at the soreness of his knees from having knelt on the porcelain so long without moving. Once he was out, I reached behind him and shut off the water, wrapping the towel around him.
I grabbed the other one, kneeling down to rub his legs dry, seeing that he was so completely lost in whatever he was feeling he had no sexual reaction to this at all. That's when I knew the situation was worse than it should be.
Standing again, I quickly stripped off my wet bra and undies and dried myself off, watching him carefully. Then I finished with his chest, caressing him as much as I was drying him, just trying to help him through this. He reached out, his hand coming around my waist and pulled me into him.
I slipped my arm around his waist and wriggled in closer. Dean leaned heavily into me, his chin coming to rest on my shoulder as he hugged me close. I stroked his back, feeling the tears starting to come as he finally let loose and sobbed. We stood in the hot, sweaty room, silently holding each other as years of torment, anger and despair broke free of the cage around his heart.
I wouldn't let go, I couldn't. I held him. I stayed silent through it all, just loving him.
In the end, that was all we had. It would have to be enough to get us through.
After a while his shaking body started to quieten. He sniffed back and then pulled back enough to kiss my forehead.
"Okay," he said, nodding.
"Okay?" I had no idea what he meant by that.
"Come on," he said, taking my hand and pulling me out into the motel room.
"Where are we going?"
"The park. I need to run," I gaped at him, seeing him turn to look at me, hesitating. "We keep moving, right?"
"What about Minnesota?" I asked, looking at him with concern.
"That'll come. But for now, you're right, we should go help Martin. If we don't, we're just failing another hunter. I'm not adding his name to the list." He was digging through his duffel, pulling out a pair of sweat pants, a t-shirt and tennis shoes.
There was a determination in his eyes, one that I'd seen a thousand times before. He was shoving it all down, just like he'd always done - the pain, the insecurity, and hurt. He was going to push through this the only way we knew how. By fighting.
"Are you sure?" I asked, my own change of heart not lost on me.
I had wanted to get him hunting again, back in the saddle so to speak, but after seeing him cry… holding him as he let it out… I wasn't certain it was the right course of action. I mentally cursed my unstable thoughts on the matter. I couldn't deny that the thought of just letting it all go, giving up, and getting Dean just to myself… no more fighting, no more nightmares, was almost too good to be true.
"Yeah, I am sugarpie," he nodded. "We'll do it together, just like we always have." He tossed my tennis shoes at me, pulling on the last of his clothes and moving to the door as I quickly wriggled into some leggings, a bra and tank top. He stopped and waited for me to join him, reaching a hand out to cup the side of my face.
I leaned into him, lifting my face to his and felt his lips meet mine in a soft, sensual kiss. "I'm with you," I whispered, adding a smile. "I love you."
Dean pulled me into a hug, and squeezed me tight. I wondered if he was feeling as conflicted as I was. But we'd decided, and now, we had to press on. Just like John had taught us.
"Please tell me you have a plan to get us into this damn nuthouse," he said after a moment, stepping back and searching my face.
"I do," I grinned at him. "You're gonna love it."
And just like that, we were back in the game. Leaving the motel together and jogging along the sidewalk until we came to the park and a winding path that led around a small manmade lake. The sun above us seemed to melt away my cares, and I settled into a comfortable pace next to Dean as we ran.
Choice. It was really all either of us had left.
Whether or not to help Martin.
To say yes, or no, to Michael and Lucifer's war.
To stick together, or fall apart.
Choice had been all we ever had since we lost John. We were so used to him making the decisions for us, it had taken years to overcome that need to look elsewhere for solutions. We made our own now.
Today we made the choice to keep fighting, together.
Author's Notes
The song for this chapter is "Bloodstone" by Guy Sebastian (and very talented and amazing Australian singer. Do check out the song on Youtube!)
Coming up soon is my take on "Sam, Interrupted" - I've been having a lot of fun putting my own twist on this and inserting Beth :)
Hope you enjoyed this short piece with a look into early Dean and Beth, plus the other side of Dean we don't often get to see. Yes, he is stuffing things down, I'm keeping it as close to his personality as possible, but I just felt that seeing Dean have his doubts and fall apart a little made more sense with how my series is progressing. When Beth is weak, he is the strong one. When he is, she steps up. It's the perfect balance, and I hope shows a little more to their personalities.
Please leave a review, it's wonderful to get feedback :)