"I have this dream of being whole. Of not going to sleep each night, wanting. But still sometimes, when the wind is warm or the crickets sing... I dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for." - Practical Magic

Chapter Six

Dream a Little Dream of You

Ella

"Dad!" I called out desperately.

I followed his thoughts, shoving the glass case out of the way, and pushing through a hidden door. He was hung from the fucking ceiling. There was an IV in his arm, that I quickly pulled out. I shook his shoulders a few times and he groaned in response.

"Hey, I've got you." I glanced around for something, anything, to break him out of the restraints. There was nothing. I could shoot him down, but he was an incapacitated six foot tall, two hundred pound man. There was no way I could drag him out of there. I had to wake him up.

My hands were shaking as I pressed my hands to his head. I focused hard. I closed my eyes tightly and probed the best I could. I had no idea if it'd work, but I had to try.

"Eleanor?"

I could see him. "You're safe." He stood next to someone else, but I couldn't see anything but him. I didn't realize I was running, until the space between us was closed. I leapt into his arms.

It didn't occur to me, before that moment, how solid he was. I wrapped my arms around him tightly. He was there. He was alive.

I have to wake him up.

"You... how are you..?"

"Hey, listen to me." I said, pulling away.

"Dean?" I turned at the sound of a woman's voice. My blood ran cold. I saw her eyes first. Blue as the sky and glistening even in the darkness. They were large and filled with concern. I'd recognize those dark curls anywhere, and a nose that sat on my own face.

My stomach flipped. "Mom?"

"Who is this?" She turned to Dad.

"Ave... fuck." He looked confused, and the edges of his eyes were wet. He reached for her hand and squeezed it tightly. "This is Nel. This is... this is our daughter."

"I never had a daughter..." Mom said, avoiding looking at me. "I was never pregnant."

"Not yet." He said, his voice hitching in his throat.

I stared at her, dumbstruck. She was so young. It was like she was cut directly out of my photographs of her. She was everything I imagined.

Her eyes scanned to me and landed on my face. Her bottom lip trembled. "Eleanor.. after my mom."

My heart squeezed as I nodded, unsure what to say. Her eyes scanned from me, to Dean. "She looks like you." Her voice broke, and Dad grabbed her elbows to keep her steady.

"Hey, easy."

It wasn't real. None of it was.

"Eleanor..." She reached for me now, and I met her in the middle. I couldn't help it. How could I shy away from her? It was probably the only chance I'd ever get to meet her, after all. Dad let her go, and she gripped my forearms, her eyes catching mine.

"Hi, Mom." I breathed, my eyes stinging.

I could hear Dad suck in his breath. I knew if I looked at him his expression would likely match my own. He wanted me to meet her as much as I wanted to meet her.

She reached forward and touched my cheek. "You're mine. Ours. I can tell."

It was all in Dad's head. I knew that, logically, but there was something solid in her touch. The warmth of her palm against my cheek. She was real, and alive in his memories. Even after all this time. "Mom..." She was so beautiful.

"Are you happy?"

She caught a tear before it could escape my eye. "Yes."

She looked to Dad. "Is he?"

"He misses you."

Mom smiled a bit, and it looked sad. "I didn't get to see you grow up."

"Don't be sad." My heart squeezed. "I had a good life. I have a good life with Dad."

Dad came up behind Mom and put his arms around her, holding her tightly. He looked like he was holding her together, but in truth, her back pressed against his chest was keeping him from collapsing.

My eyes flickered to his. They were glowing green, and red against the edges. "Dad.. .this isn't real." I said, my heart breaking along with his. "I... I want it to be, but it isn't. Mom's dead. She has been my whole life."

Her hand moved from me and she turned to look at Dad, her expression full of fear. "Don't.. Dean don't leave me."

He wrapped his arms around her more tightly, cradling the back of her head. "Shh, Hey. I've got you. It's okay."

"Dad." I said a little louder. We were running out of time.

"I know, El, give me a sec okay." He intertwined his fingers with her curls and pulled her closer, his face in her hair. "Hey, Sweetheart, I've got you. I love you, you know that? Always did."

I watched him with her. He held her tight, despite knowing it wasn't real. I realized in that moment, watching him with her, why he never dated. I understood, finally, that a part of him died with her that day. The part that allowed himself to love another person so uniquely and fully. I could tell in the twitch of his lip that he loved her differently than me, than Sam, Cas, or Jack. I wanted him to have that. I wanted us to have this.

"Hey, Hey. We don't do that." He said, pulling away wiping her tears with his thumbs.

"Easy for you to say, big cry baby." She said, reaching up to wipe his own tears.

"Hey.. I'm not cryin. It's just the rain." He said, not bothering to look up at the empty, cloudless sky.

"The rain.. like the first night you told me you wanted this. All of it."

"Exactly like that." He ran his thumb along her jaw and leaned in to kiss her.

I suddenly felt like I was witnessing something private, so I let my mind pull back a bit. We'd been in here too long. I heard it, then. The banging. The scratching. Yelling. Micheal.

"Dad.. we've gotta." I turned to them.

"I know." He said softly, his eyes never leaving Moms. "I'm sorry that I have to leave you again, Sweetheart. Seems like we're always doin that, aren't we?"

She nodded, her lips trembling. "Guess we are."

He leaned down, capturing her lips in his for one more, deep, and long kiss. He pulled away after a moment, pressing his forehead to hers.

Goodbye is always the hardest part. The endings. I didn't realize I was crying until I tasted salt on my lips. I licked the tear away and reached a hand out for him. "Come on, Dad. It's time."

"Okay." He whispered, his voice pained. "Okay." He let her go, and turned, taking my hand. A cool breeze picked up her hair, seeming to swirl around her as she watched us leave, lips open with the words she wanted to say. Words that Dad couldn't hear. It was his head, after all, and I got the impression that they never got to say goodbye. Not really.

I pulled my hands away from Dad's temples, returning to the normal world. I felt like I was going to fall over, pass out and sleep for a week. Probing his mind took every ounce of energy I had, plus some extra.

He stirred a bit.

"Hey, Dad. You're doing good. I'm here, come on."

I gasped as two rough hands gripped my shoulders, yanking me backwards. I didn't have a chance to look at my attacker before fingers curled into my hair and slammed my head against the wall, knocking me unconscious.

Dean

"The fuck?" I came to, my vision still peppered along the edges as I pulled myself into consciousness. El was in my head. She brought me back. I wanted Ava back so badly that I easily believed the lie. Again. I shook my head, trying to keep myself from slipping back out of consciousness.

"I've heard about you, Dean Winchester." A low voice boomed from across the room. "You've had your hands in all the honey pots. Hell, Purgatory, Heaven, you've had the Mark of Cain, you've been a demon and now... an arc angel is locked inside of you. That sounds like the perfect addition to my collection. Let's let him out, shall we?"

"No thanks." I grunted, pulling at my restraints. I was hanging by my wrists from the ceiling, and fuck did it hurt. "Trust me, you don't want to meet Micheal. He's a dick."

A dark laugh came from across the room. I squinted, trying to assess my surroundings. I was in a fucking concrete room. The only light seemed to be right in my eyes, leaving the rest of the room in shadow. "We'll see, won't we?"

"What'd you do with my brother? You need a giant to add to your little collection, too?"

"I was going to use him for leverage." The main stepped out of the darkness, holding a blade in his hand. The tip rested on the pad of his index finger, and he spun it, not pressing hard enough to break the skin. He had stark white hair, but even with his age his skin was mostly smooth and pale. "But then, imagine my surprise when I found this little bunny."

He turned and pushed out a gurney. The wheel squeaked, and whined. My breath hitched in my throat as Eleanor's face came into view under the light. Blood ran down her face from where she clearly was hit. "Motherfucker I will kill you!" I shouted, fighting against my chains.

"Aw, no you won't, but I will kill her. Your daughter, right?"

A hot, angry tear rolled down my cheek as I realized I was too fucking weak to break out. The poison was still pulsing through my veins. "Hey... hey, fuck face." I groaned, jingling the chains, trying to get his attention. "She... she's psychic." I bit out. "Don't hurt her. Won't she be a good addition to your collection?"

We would get out of this, but fuck I had to keep her alive until we could.

"Psychic?" He raised an eyebrow. "Is that what she was doing when I came in? With her hands on your head?"

"Yes."

"She doesn't need her fingers to use her brain." He decided after some careful silence.

"What?" My voice was pained, as I watched him run the blade down her arm, not slicing her, not yet.

He lifted up her hand. "You don't even need all ten fingers. You know that?"

He was going to cut off her fucking fingers.

"Sammy!" I shouted out desperately. I didn't know what to do. Micheal couldn't come out of my head. He would destroy the planet. I couldn't resist, though, or Nel would have nubs where her fingers were supposed to be.

"He can't hear you, Dean." He man, Larkin, said with a laugh. "Sorry to say, the Winchester's have been less than impressive to me."

Larkin ran the blade against her arm again, slicing into it now. She groaned in her sleep, and I wanted to look away. I wanted to, but I couldn't. My daughter. My fucking baby. I wanted to kill him. "I'm going to gut you, you fucking bastard!" I screamed out. "It's okay, Nel. I'm here!" I shouted out desperately. I just hoped she wouldn't wake up. I hoped that she'd stay passed out, so maybe she'd miss the pain. I'd still love her even if she had nubs for fingers.

My eyes were so focused on the blade against her skin and the pull of the metal chains against my wrist, and the ache of my shoulders as I tried to push close enough to her to help. To fight. To hold her. To do fucking anything other than be a helpless goddamn rag doll.

I was so focused on the look on her face, and the blood pooling on her arms, that I didn't hear the click. I didn't see her step out of the shadows. "Get away from my fucking girlfriend." Claire Novak said, before she pressed on the trigger and blew Larkin away. A perfect shot right between his eyes. He fell back, his face frozen in shock.

I let out a sob I didn't know I was holding, and I slumped a bit.

"Claire, check her out. Make sure she's okay."

"Hey, Ella." She said, already ahead of me. "What'd I say about not getting hurt? You Winchester's, so goddam stubborn." She held her face, and Nel didn't respond.

"Fuck, Claire, is she alive?" I asked, my voice shaking.

Claire pressed two fingers to her pulse point and after a moment she let out a breath of relief. "She's alive, but her pulse is a little weak. We need to get her to the hospital. You too." She looked at me for the first time. "You look like shit."

"We need to find Sammy and Cas." I said weakly.

"Jacks already working on untying them."

"You three are the rescue squad?"

Claire shrugged. "Saved your asses, so yeah. Guess we are."

"Fuckin hell." I shook my head. "You did good, kid."

—

We got to take Nel home the next day. She had a concussion, and four stitches on her forehead from when she was hit, and six on her arm.

"Come on, fighter." I said, leading her into the kitchen. "Want me to make you something? You're supposed to eat with the pain pills."

"I don't want the pain pills." Nel rolled her eyes. "I'm fine, really."

Claire's eyes met mine and she shrugged. It's hard raising an independent woman, when all I wanted to do was smother her so she could never get hurt again.

"Alright, fine. You got it." I turned to grab a beer from the fridge.

"Dad?" She squeaked, and I turned to her. Claire and Jack were settling next to her, Sam, and Cas followed us in carrying our duffle bags.

"Yeah?"

She reached into her pocket and held out a small white sphere. Lackluster in the dim lights of the bunker. "Got this for you."

"Is that?"

"The Pearl." She said, softly, rolling it in her fingers.

"Shit." I exhaled, I glanced at Sam. It looked uneventful, like a piece of plastic. I cleared my throat awkwardly. "So, what do I..?"

Sam shrugged, eyeing the pearl. "I don't know. I guess you hold the pearl and I don't know. Concentrate on what your heart desires?"

I grunted. "Michael outta my head. Got it." I reached for the pearl, but before I could take it in my hand and the lights flickered. "That doesn't seem like a good sign." I commented gently. The lights clicked off with a groan, leaving us painted in the red emergency lights. I pinched the bridge of my nose. "This is why we don't get our hopes up." I said with a sigh.

"Ow, what the..." Sam said stumbling forward.

"Sammy what?"

It happened so fast.

"Something hit me!" Sam said, turning quickly, only to get his feet knocked out from underneath him.

I pulled my gun out from the back of my pants and clicked off the safety. My eyes scanned the dark room. "Come out you son of a bitch." I growled, suddenly wondering if Micheal was out of my melon after all. Not exactly what I was asking for. I groaned internally. Maybe I didn't have to touch the Pearl.

"Dad?" El asked, her voice weak.

My knees buckled as I was hit from behind. I fell forward, cursing internally for letting myself be distracted. I rolled onto my back, my gun pointed up at my attacker.

"Dean." Sam said breathlessly.

The lights flickered back on, the fluorescent lights of the bunker humming gently.

She hovered over me, her black curls falling into her face. She squinted in the light, her blue eyes adjusting to the change. She wore her favorite sweatshirt. I recognized it, but it couldn't... she couldn't be. My head was spinning.

"Dean?" She asked after a moment.

Fuck, she looks exactly the same.

I couldn't bring myself to answer.

"Sam?" Her eyes peeled from me and trailed up to my brother.

"Dean." Sam responded, bewildered.

I sat up, slowly standing on weak legs. "Ava."