"I'll wait here," Evan says as he parks the truck outside of the bunker.
The dark-haired girl nods her head in understanding as she opens the door, "Thank you."
He nods then watches her close the door and descend the steps leading into the bunker.
Lexi makes her way through the door and down the staircase, her eyes red from the tears she's let silently fall on the drive over. Mary Winchester wasn't her mother, but she was one of the first women to treat her like a daughter. It feels as if someone has ripped her heart out of her chest and the pain only intensifies when her gaze falls on Sam, who's walking across the war room to greet her, and she sees the pain and grief on his face.
He pulls her into a hug, and they cling to each other for longer than normal, silent tears falling from both of them. Dean makes his way to the doorway from the kitchen and stops upon seeing them. When they release each other, they notice the older brother watching and Lexi gives him a small sad smile as she walks over to hug him as well. He wraps his arms around her for a moment before pulling away and Lexi can tell immediately tell he's not reached the level of acceptance that his brother has.
"Come on," he says to her, "I'll get you a beer."
He turns and heads toward the kitchen and Lexi glances back at Sam with concern.
Lexi takes a sip of her beer as she processes her thoughts after Sam explains to her what happened with Jack and Mary.
"Where's he now?" she questions.
"We don't know," Sam replies.
"We'll find him," Dean says sternly.
"And then what?" Lexi questions, glancing at him with concern.
"We do what we have to?" Dean responds.
"I bet," Lexi scoffs with a shake of her head.
"I'm sorry?" Dean cocks an eyebrow at her.
"He's still family Dean," she responds angrily, "we don't know what happened, maybe it wasn't his fault, maybe it was an accident."
"Killing someone's an accident?" the older brother's tone is harsh.
"Dean," Sam tries to diffuse the situation as Lexi glances down at the bottle in front of her for a moment before she turns an icy gaze back to the man standing by the bar.
"So, you're saying I killed Logan on purpose?"
Dean's whole posture softens as he sees the comparison she's making, "That's not what I meant Lexi. You know that. Jack is different, he's dangerous."
"So am I," she replies coldly.
"Lex," the younger brother says, a pleading tone in his voice. Tensions are high enough without the two of them fighting right now.
"Sorry Sam," Lexi looks at him for a moment, sadness in her eyes, "I should go."
"Don't," he shakes his head.
"I'm sorry," she responds, knowing she can't sit here and argue with her friend. They all deserve time to mourn, they don't need to be arguing right now. She pats Sam's hand gently as she stands up, "I'll call you later."
Lexi turns to leave, her gaze stopping on Dean for a moment. He's not angry with her, he's angry with the situation and his face softens as he gives her a soft nod in understanding. She returns it and makes her way out of the room.
Lexi opens the truck door and Evan doesn't comment on the fresh stream of tears on her cheeks as she climbs in and fastens her seatbelt.
"Take me home," she says quietly without looking over at him, "please."
He doesn't respond only turns the key in the ignition and puts the truck in drive as she stares at the passenger window fighting back the surge of emotions.
A few days later
The knock from Lexi's door surprises her and she pauses the TV before she stands up to make her way over to answer it. She looks through the peep hole and quickly opens the door to allow her friend inside. His eyes are red and slightly puffy, a clear sign he's been crying, but she doesn't say anything. Lexi closes the door as he walks over to sit in one of her chairs in the living room, he leans forward elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. She knows this isn't about the argument from the other night, this is him finally accepting what's happened. The dark-haired girl moves to stand beside him and runs a comforting hand from the top his head to the base of his neck.
The man looks up at her for a moment as he places his hand on her waist, guiding her to stand in front of him. She's seen a multitude of emotions in her friend's green eyes over the years: anger, bliss, fear, sadness, disgust, need, and desire. This one she knows, and she lays her arms across the tops of his shoulders as he rests his head against her abdomen and envelopes her hips in his arms. Her heart breaks as she feels the tears seeping through the fabric of her t-shirt, leaving a cool damp spot on her skin. She moves her hand to the back of his head and runs her fingers through his hair. She would stand here and hold him for as long as he needed, because they were each other's person, complicated as it may be.
Some girls are full of heartache and poetry and those are the kind of girls who try to save wolves instead of running away from them. – Nikita Gill