Ch 15
The hunters retreated from the barn shortly after dawn. They drove in silence, miles passing quickly with no destination in mind. Each stuck in their own heads, replaying the last few days over and over. River met Dean's emerald eyes frequently in the rearview mirror and she smiled reassuringly at him. She wanted to ask him about Alastair and the claims he had made but knew it would best to let Dean breech the subject.
They found a cheap motel a few hours later. They gathered their bags and the beer filled cooler from the backseat and settled into the motel room. Dean grabbed a beer and twisted the cap off. He took a long drink, looking over the amber bottle at River where she smiled nervously at him. "I know you heard what Alastair said," he said after a moment. "About me having promise." Sam nodded silently and picked up his own bottle of beer. "So…neither one you is the least bit curious?"
"Of course we are. I am damn curious, but you don't have to say anything if you don't want to…but you can if you need to. You can tell us anything, Dean." River placed her hand on his arm gently.
He stepped away from her and ran his hand through his hair, "I'm gonna go grab us some grub; saw a burger joint a few miles back."
"I'll go with you," River told him.
He shook his head, "No, you're exhausted. Get a shower. We-we can talk when I get back." He turned and left the room without another word, Baby grumbling to life a second later as Dean raced out of the parking lot.
River looked back at Sam, his face mirroring the worry she felt. "Alastair said decades, Sam. What the fuck does that mean?"
Sam hugged her tightly, "I don't know. We can't push him. He'll shut us out completely."
She nodded her head against his chest. "You smell like horse shit," she said smiling and stepping away from the giant man.
"You do too, shorty…I'll be a gentleman and let you take the first shower." River grabbed her ratty old duffle bag and gratefully walked into the small bathroom. The shower took so long to produce hot water that River feared there would never be any. When the water finally reached a decent enough temperature she ended up spending much less time enjoying the hot water than she wanted not trusting the motels ancient water heater to produce enough for two more showers. She stepped out of the foggy bathroom a while later wearing one of Dean's old Zeppelin shirts and a loose pair of sweatpants, rubbing a towel through her long, wet hair. "Your turn, Samsquatch…he should be back soon, yeah?" River glanced at the bedside clock and noted that half an hour had already passed.
"Yeah, you know how he drives when he's hungry," Sam called over his shoulder as he shut himself in the bathroom. She flipped on the TV and quietly nursed her own bottle of beer. "No food, yet?" Sam asked irritated when he finished his own shower. "I'm starving." He flopped down on the second bed and glanced at his phone. Another quarter hour passed, then half. One hour turned into two and then just as quickly three hours had passed; the full moon was out and lit up the parking lot outside their motel room. River kept getting up and glancing out the window every few minutes.
"He hasn't answered my texts. And his phone is going directly to voicemail." She chewed on her thumb nail and glared at her phone, willing Dean to text her back with any excuse.
"Maybe he just lost track of time, or had a tire blow out or something."
"I'm getting dressed and I'm gonna take one of those cars out there and go look for him. You stay here in case he comes back." River quickly changed into a pair of jeans and slipped her boots on, "That dick, Uriel could have him, or Alastair…or a fucking werewolf, Sam. And we're sitting here with our thumbs up our butts waiting…" She pulled her gun out of her bag, slid the magazine out and checked that it was full.
"Riv, I'll go. You stay here." Sam said getting off the bed.
"Sa-oh there's Prince Punctual now," River stopped her argument when she heard the growling engine of the Impala pulling back into it's spot right outside their room. The door was flung open a moment later and Dean stumbled in, smelling like a bar, sweat and some sweet, earthy smell River was having trouble identifying. "Dean, where the hell have you been?"
He turned rheumy eyes towards her and blinked slowly. "You still here?" he slurred.
"What? Yes, we're still here. You said you were gonna go get dinner remember? That was three fucking hours ago." River glanced worriedly at Sam, neither of them had seen Dean this drunk. He wobbled on his legs, pulling his jacket off and dropping it on the floor. "Where the hell have you been? Your god damn phone is off and…you stink."
"I went out… Obviously." Dean scratched the stubble on his jaw and neck. River leaned down and picked up his leather jacket, watching as a stray piece of trash fluttered out of the pocket and onto the floor. She picked it off the floor and turned to over and over in her fingers, willing it to make sense. Sam watched her over his brothers shoulder, saw the conflicting emotions crossing her face and the color rising from her chest. She looked up from the stray piece of wrapping and briefly met Sam's eyes before staring at Dean.
She grabbed him roughly by the shoulder and spun him to face her. "That's a nice color on you," she said quietly wiping a smear of crimson lipstick off his neck and holding her fingers up to his eyes. " And this?" she held up the torn package and his greens eyes flicked to it.
"Meant to throw that out…" he murmured glancing at the condom package and back to River's stony face.
"What the hell did you do?"
"Fucked some slut I met at a bar," he answered nonchalantly.
"Dean, stop. You're drunk!" Sam put a hand on his brothers shoulder. River worked her jaw back and forth, willing herself to take deep breaths.
"What was her name?"
"Don't know."
"Anyone else." This wasn't the reaction Dean had imagined, he wanted her to scream, to be angry, to hit him. Instead she stood there like a statue, her voice calm and even, her face unreadable.
He cleared his throat, "Some bartender at Oktoberfest….and Anna."
River blinked several times, "Anna?…Why?"
"Why? That's all you got?…god you are-"
"Dean stop." Sam repeated.
"No, Sammy she wants to know why…where should I start? How about wasting my last 10 months on Earth with you…then spending 40 years in Hell being ripped and torn and tortured to be brought back here to you, a sniveling emotional wreck." River blinked again, refusing to let a single tear drop as he continued spewing hateful words at her. "You think you suffered? You can never comprehend what was taken from me down there …but after all those years in the pit it helped me realize something…you are the worst decision I ever made."
She gave a single nod of her head and dropped his jacket back on the floor. She brushed past the brothers and grabbed her duffle bag where she had it left laying open on the foot of her bed; she shrugged into her hoodie and jacket and swung her bag across her body.
"River where are you going? It's almost midnight. Dean can sleep it off in the car. He's talking out of his ass…" Sam put his large frame in front of the much smaller woman.
She grabbed him in a tight hug and stepped around him, "Bye Sam."
"That's great, Dean! Great job! You choose now- right fucking now to pull this shit." Sam pushed past him and out into the darkness; the parking lot was empty and silent. Dean stood still, taking deep breaths through his nose, the slamming door echoing in his head. He closed his eyes, feeling no sense of accomplishment or relief in having succeeded at driving her away.
River's gait was quick and determined as she headed towards the faint glow of the downtown district a few miles away. She remembered the bus depot from their quick drive down the main street and chose that as her destination. Dean's words reverberated in her mind, mixing and jumbling with every terrible thing the ghosts, the shifter, and she had ever said about herself. "Stupid…stupid, fucking pathetic loser. God damn it." She sniffed loudly and wiped at the fat tears falling from her eyes. "Swap war stories….what the-I'm so stupid…of course he would, why wouldn't he fuck a supermodel ex-angel." The front of her hoodie was wet with the tears she had already shed. The miles passed quickly and she found herself standing in line in the dirty bus station lobby. A few travelers sat scattered in hard plastic chairs, some staring at the ancient TV in the corner showing reruns of some long canceled sitcom. River paid for her bus ticket and chose a seat with a wide view of the lobby, leaving no chance for anyone to sneak up on her. She hugged her duffle bag closely and tapped her foot on the dirty linoleum floor, watching the clock as it counted down her buses arrival.
"Well, hey there sugar cookie." Gabriel appeared in the chair next to her. "Whatch'a doin'?"
River rubbed her hand down her tear streaked face and across her nose, she knew she probably looked like a train wreck, eyes red, face blotchy and soaked in tears. "Why are you here?"
"You called me."
"Did not."
"You prayed to me then."
"If I did it was an accident and I don't need you. I agreed to wear this little lo-jack of yours to protect you, not to give you full access to my head." She pulled lightly at the charm around her neck.
"Sorry to break it to you lollipop. I'd have free access to your head with or without that. Just keeps all my pesky brothers and sisters from getting in your noggin and thumbing through your thoughts."
She raised her eyebrows, "Guess I should've paid more attention to all the Angel crap you tried to teach me…I really just wanted to learn cuss words in Enochian." She checked her watch against the digital clock on the wall. "Speaking of Angel crap, did you tell me about the wings and the grace. Because it kind of feels like you didn't. I can't see your wings, why not?"
Gabriel shifted in his chair and glanced around at the stupefied residents of the lobby, "Because I have them…put away. And no, I guess I didn't tell you because I was hoping you wouldn't run into any of my family members."
Rive scoffed, "You're so full of shit…my bus is here. Bye, Gabe. Please don't follow me. I've had enough Angels and Demons and your bullshit." He reached out and grabbed her hand before she stormed away.
"I can take you where ever you want, come on Lemon Drop"
She gently pulled her hand away, "I just want be alone for a while. Please. Go." River walked towards the bus flashing "Astoria, OR", handed the driver her ticket before climbing inside and chose a seat at the back of the bus. She fell asleep sometime later and dreamed of sunflowers.
"The souls of your children, pure, innocent worth more than a thousand souls I gather from deals made by idiots like Dean. Give them to me and Dean and you are free to walk out of here." The nightmare always started the same; Lilith and her white pupil-less eyes staring up at her. The familiar popping and stretching sensations coming from her belly as her sons flipped and kicked inside of her. Then burning sharp pain as invisible claws tore her apart from the inside, the stench of copper as she bled and the inhuman scream of anguish that Lilith pulled out of her. Then darkness, heavy and confining. Punctuated by Dean's screams and the wet snarling of the beast that was murdering him. Then before the darkness took her ability to speak she called out to Dean one last time. River shifted in her seat on the bus, the gentle swaying keeping her asleep and trapped in the dream.
"We got a female, approximate age 25-30, 8 months pregnant with twins. Hit by a car, massive abdominal trauma and blood loss." The calm clinical voice echoed in her head; the gurney was hard and uncomfortable under her back.
"She isn't pregnant anymore… Call the OR tell 'em we got a level four trauma rollin' in." A new, harsh voice rang out. Then poking and prodding, the feeling of her clothes being cut off and the cold air hitting her exposed skin. She screamed when they moved her onto the operating table but no one heard, the scream echoed in her head. Surgeons began barking orders at nurses, yelling out for surgical instruments and then the first cut. The feeling of having someones cold hands digging around in her abdomen would haunt her for weeks. "PLEASE STOP! GOD, JUST STOP!" she screamed willing the strangers in the operating room to hear her. The sounds and voices around her became dulled and muffled and she felt a strange floating sensation in her limbs as if she were filling with helium and starting to drift away. Then the people in the operating room were screaming and calling out for help. Glass shattered, electric sparks arced around the room and a deafening, high pitched warble that River could feel in her bones. Then a wonderful, safe warmth enveloped her and she was taken away from the screaming and the pain.
"Wake e on sleepy head you can do it…wake up." A voice flitted through the darkness to River's ears.
She struggled to open her eyes for several minutes, "Ughh…what the fu-" She finally got her eyelids to cooperate and saw she was surrounded by a wall of sunflowers. Giant sunflowers that towered several feet off the soft earth, small tightly packed sunflowers of every color found in sunsets blooming right next to her head. River reached out a shaky hand towards the flowers brushing her fingertips across their delicate petals. She sat up on her elbows and surveyed her impossible surroundings. Her eyes drifted down the length of her body and it took her a moment to realize how strange it was to be able to see her feet. It had been weeks since she seen her feet over the swell of her pregnant stomach. A strangled cry bubbled up and erupted in a gut wrenching sob as she raked her fingernails along her abdomen. "No! NO! Where are they?"
"Hey, hey stop that," a figure appeared beside her and grabbed her hands before she could do anymore damage. "That stomach of yours is some of my best work, very Renaissance. All soft curves and hey! Ow!" River pulled her hands out of the intruders grip and socked him in the jaw.
"Loki? What-what is this?" River blinked several times, confused tears rolling down her cheeks. She sat the rest of the way up and looked at her strange friend. His sandy blonde hair and whiskey colored eyes glowing as if lit from with in by a deep burnt orange light. "Where am I?…Am I dead?"
"No, Lemon Drop you're not dead…you're ok. I uh-uh," Loki cleared his throat, "I resurrected you."
River closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her eyelids, "You're not making any god damn sense…just let me die in peace. No more tricks."
Loki took her hands in his again, "I'm not a trickster…I am an Angel. An Archangel actually." He smiled shyly and his eyebrows disappeared under his shaggy hair. "My name-my real name is Gabriel."
River's brows knitted together and her mouth opened and closed several times. "Where is Dean?"
"He's gone, lollipop."
"And my babies?"
"I can't bring them back."
"Why am I here?" Plump tears continued to roll down her face onto her naked chest.
"Because I didn't think you deserved to die sprawled out on an operating table surrounded by strangers in ugly green pajamas…you're taking this a lot better than I thought you would. Did you here me when I said I was an Angel?"
The bus came to rough stop and River tumbled into the seat in front of her cursing under her breath as she swiped the smear of drool off her mouth. She'd had the same dream for the last three nights, replaying the first few hours of her new lease on life. She sat back in her seat and looked out the window, the sky was grey and thick raindrops pelted the tinted glass. A sign on the highway said they were less then 25 miles from Astoria and River smiled checking the list she had written of sights she wanted to see in the small Oregon town.
River enjoyed the cold and the rain the Pacific North-West offered after so many months bouncing back and forth in the Mid-West. She explored some of the sights from her favorite movie "The Goonies". The hunter could almost pretend there were no monsters, demons or Angels lurking while she walked past antique shops and art galleries. Almost but not quite because she could never be that lucky could she?
After a few days in the sea side town River decided she'd had enough of Astoria and took a short drive down the coast to Cannon Beach to see the famous Haystack Rocks. She spent the day enjoying the tide pools and watching surfers ride the waves. She stayed longer than she meant soaking in the natural beauty. River realized quickly she had let her gas tank get too low during her sightseeing but didn't know the area and unlike Sam couldn't get a fool proof wifi connection in the wilderness. The red 'E' glared warningly at her from the dashboard and she cursed herself for the thousandth time as she rounded another tight curve in the road. She chanted "fuck ,fuck, fuck" under her breath; the hunter in her was not happy with the prospect of being caught in a forrest at night with a dead car. River crested a final hill and saw a tell-tale metal sign reflecting in the headlamps of her shitty stolen car. She coasted into the gas station just as the car used the last vapors in the tank. "Thank you," she kissed the steering wheel and gave a cursory glance outside before exiting the car. The gas station office was dark but the pump took credit cards and so for the moment her luck held. She dug out her wallet and chose one of the skimmed credit cards at random, plugged it into the card slot and pumped her car full of gas. A twig cracked behind her and River let out a disgruntled sigh, "I'm on vacation asshole! You wanna keep living I suggest you fuck off!" Another twig cracked and River walked around the back of her car to her trunk where she pulled out a machete.
"Hey there, pretty girl," a simpering voice called behind her. She slammed the trunk angrily and turned to face the annoyance. The man was in need of a shave and a haircut, his clothes not suited for the damp Oregon weather.
"Hey there, vampire." She gripped the machete and raised her eyebrows at the monster. "So, we gonna do this or what?" The vampire snarled, opening his mouth wide and allowing his double row of razor sharp teeth to poke through his gums. The vamp growled again and ran quickly towards her, its hunger causing it to be overzealous. River swung the machete like she was aiming for left field, the vampires head departed its neck and tumbled to the muddy ground at her feet. "Son of a bitch," she flicked the gore off the machete and went back to the trunk to grab her shovel. It had started to rain again and burning the body wasn't an option so of course she'd have to dig a grave in the heavy, muddy earth behind the gas station. When the deed was done she climbed wearily back into her car. "And I'm officially over Oregon." She drove through the night, singing along loudly with the Ramones and Misfits as she left Oregon behind and veered into Idaho.
Over the next three weeks she ping ponged back and forth among states eventually winding up down in Arkansas searching for a hitchhiking ghost on Highway 395 that had caused a dozen fatal car accidents. The time away from Dean and Gabriel and no sign of any trench coated Angels (or any other Angels for that matter) had given River time to regroup. She'd found a doctor during a week long hunt in Colorado, filled out a bunch of forms and was given a couple prescriptions for antidepressants. The pills she'd been on before during especially rough patches in her high school years and again after her ordeal with the shapeshifter. She knew they wouldn't fix the problem but they had helped make things manageable for her in the past. The hitchhiking ghost was a bit of pain in the ass, it tried to force her off the road twice before River could get it to listen and cooperate. The young woman was a runway that had been raped, murdered and buried in a shallow grave near mile marker 31 a decade prior. Her family never even reported her missing. She just wanted to go home and River helped her, the spirit didn't scream when her bones were burned but instead looked skyward as she was released.
River was trudging back to her waiting car when her cellphone rang. She glanced at the screen and didn't recognize the number. She had a quick internal battle about letting it go to voicemail but answered on the last ring, "Hello?"
"Oh…wow you answered. Awesome," a familiar yet strangely unfamiliar voice answered. "Hi, is this River uh..I don't know your last name but you were at the Morton House with those two tall douchebags ."
"Uhm, yeah…this is River… Is this Spruce?"
"No, Spruce is in Canada filming a documentary on Maple syrup. This is Ed- Ed Zeddmore."
authors note: I struggle with depression and anxiety, any descriptions of such are based on my own personal experiences and are not meant to belittle or in any way make any one feel that their own struggles with mental health issues are insignificant. Always Keep Fighting!