And the heart is hard to translate
It has a language of its own
It talks in tongues and quiet sighs,
And prayers and proclamations
In the grand days of great men and the smallest of gestures
And short shallow gasps
And I would give all this and heaven too
I would give it all if only for a moment
That I could just understand the meaning of the word you see
CROSSROAD BLUES
Sam and I sat in front of the laptop staring at the screen, a frown graced each of our faces. I glanced up at Sam and he shook his head, then looked across the table at Dean. He was watching us with a raised eyebrow. A waitress came over and placed our food in front of us, juggling the limited space due to the laptop with the practised ease of someone who had been doing this job for a long time. I looked over at Dean again, biting my lower lip.
"What?!" Dean said, finally, exasperated by our constant looks.
I glanced down at the laptop screen again, there was a mugshot of Dean staring back at me. I sighed.
"So much for our low profile. You've got a warrant in St. Louis, and now you're officially in the Fed's database." I said to him, still chewing on my lip.
Dean grinned at us."Dude, I'm like Dillinger or something," he quipped.
"Dean, it's not funny. It makes the job harder, we've got to be more careful now." Sam said, frowning.
"Well, what do they got on you?" Dean asked, taking a sip of his coke.
Sam tapped away at the laptop, looking a little annoyed."I'm sure they just haven't posted it yet..." He muttered with a frown. I chuckled and patted him sympathetically on the arm, climbing out from the booth so that I could slide around to Dean's side, sidling up to him.
"No accessory? Nothing?" Dean pressed Sam with an amused look.
"Shut up," Sam said. Dean laughed and stuffed a fry into his mouth.
"You're jealous!" Dean said around his chewing.
"No I'm not!" Sam denied, shaking his head.
"Uh-huh," Dean chuckled, stuffing a few more fries into his mouth.
"Well I am!" I said with a short laugh, putting my head on Dean's shoulder for sympathy. "No one has the faintest idea who I am, it's like I never even existed." I sighed.
"There's a reason for that sugarpie," Dean said, kissing the top of my head. "Keeps you safe." I snorted.
"I'd rather be Bonnie and Clyde with you and recognised once in a while, than Casper the Ghost. You know that Detective still hasn't got the faintest idea who I am?" I said with a sigh.
Dean shook his head and chuckled, sliding his arm around my shoulder. "Well, not much we can do about it, can't go back ten years and un-fake your death gorgeous," he said, looking down at me. I nudged his nose with my own and leaned in to him.
"Yeah, I guess..." I said regretfully. I thought about my father, and his burial plot, he'd actually been cremated, hunter style, but just like Mary, there was a gravestone, and I'd taken his ashes there shortly after it had been erected. My name was also on the stone, as John and Dean had faked a death certificate and other assorted reports that said I'd been killed in the same home invasion that had killed my father. Dead at fifteen, that was my legacy.
"Hey, you ok?" Dean asked, watching as I battled some of these conflicting thoughts in my head. I thought about the answer to that, not giving a response right away. Sam was glancing over at me, a worried look on his face. Dean didn't look worried, just caring.
"Hmmm?" Dean prompted me, and I felt my mouth twitch a little sadly.
"Yeah... just thinking about stuff." I said quietly.
"You know we could get you some fake ID with your real name if it'd help, just for a while?" Dean said, looking down at me. I shook my head, it wasn't that so much as the accumulation of choices I'd had to make over the last decade. Most of the time I didn't regret what I'd chosen, but sometimes there was a little niggling doubt, the fear that maybe I'd leave this world never having really made a difference.
"No it's ok," I said with a smile, kissing him lightly on the lips."I'm just being melancholy, thinking about my dad." Dean gently traced a finger along my cheek and down my jawline, thinking about what I'd said. Eventually he nodded, not saying anything further, but he didn't have to, I knew I could get him alone and talk any time I wanted.
"So..." I said, turning to Sam who was listening, but pretending not to."What have you got for us, you innocent, harmless young man?" Sam gave me a slightly annoyed look for joining Dean in the teasing, and shut the computer. He reached into a folder and pulled out several pages of research.
Sam started reading from the pages quickly going over the details.
"Architect Sean Boyden plummeted to his death from the roof of his home, a condominium he designed," Sam said.
"Hmm. Build a high-rise and jump off the top of it. That's classy. When did he call animal control?" Dean asked, referring to our earlier conversation where Sam had been looking up reports of black dogs in the area.
"Two days earlier," Sam replied, reading the report.
"Did he actually say Black Dog?" I asked, sitting up a little and stealing some of Dean's fries, grimacing at my salad, why had I ordered that?
"Yeah. A vicious, wild, black dog. The authorities couldn't find it, no one else saw it; in fact, the authorities are a little confused as to how a wild dog could get past the doorman, take the elevator up and start roaming the halls of the cushiest joint in town. After that, no more calls, he doesn't show up for work, two days later he takes a swan dive."
"You think we're dealing with an actual Black Dog?" Dean asked, frowning.
"Well, maybe," Sam said with a shrug.
"What's the lore on it?" Dean asked, looking at me. I had been reading up on them earlier this morning when we first heard about the report.
"It's all pretty vague." I said, sliding some of the print outs I had taken earlier from the library computer over to him."There are spectral black dogs all over the world, but... some say they're animal spirits, others say death omens. Whatever they are, they're big, and they're nasty." I said.
"Yeah," Dean said, looking at a photo of a picture of a huge black dog."I bet they could hump the crap outta your leg," he said to Sam with a grin."Look at that one, huh?"
Sam glared at him and Dean's smirk fell when I elbowed him in the side. "What? They could!" He insisted. I shook my head with a smirk of my own.
I rolled my eyes."Well, are we going to check this one out, or not?"
"Yep," Dean said. "Leg humping and all," he added, with a grin, sliding his hand along my thigh and giving it a little squeeze. Sam threw his hands up in the air, giving up, and left the booth, tired of the teasing. I had to admit, it was a little childish, but it had been fun.
Private Apartment
It seemed like we'd been in suits a lot recently for our travels, interesting that. I didn't mind, the boys made for a very dashing view when they scrubbed up.
"So, you and Sean Boyden were business partners for almost ten years, right?" Sam asked the man standing in the kitchen. He was tall, middle-aged, dark haired and well built, dressed in neat casual clothing.
"That's right." He said with a nod."Now one more time, this is for...?"
"A tribute to Mr. Boyden. Architectural Digest." Dean said. The man laughed to himself.
"Is this funny to you?" I asked the man, inclining my head to the side.
The man looked a little chastised. "No, it... it's just a tribute. Yeah." He was nodding to us, leaning against the kitchen island bench. "See, Sean always got the tributes. He kills himself, leaves me and his family behind...well, he gets another tribute."
"Right," Sam said. "Any idea why he'd do such a thing?"
The man shrugged, looking at us. "I, I have no clue, I mean he lived a charmed life."
"How so?" I asked, curious.
"He was a flat-out genius. I mean, I'm capable, but next to him, I...and it wasn't always that way either." He said, looking at Dean.
"No?" Dean asked.
"You wanna know the truth? There was a time when he couldn't even design a pop-up tent. Hell, ten years ago he's working as a bartender at this place called Lloyd's. A complete dive." The man said, Dean raised his eyebrow at this.
"Right. So what changed?" Sam asked.
"You got me. But overnight, he gets this huge commission, and he starts designing... he starts designing the most ingenious buildings anyone has ever seen. It was like, the level of Van Gogh, and Mozart..." His voice trailed off.
"What?" I asked, as he looked at me, a new realisation coming into his eyes.
"It's funny," He said, gesturing with his hand. "True geniuses, they seem to die young, don't they? To have that kind of talent? Why... why just throw it away?"
I exchanged a look with the boys. Why indeed?
Animal Protection Agency
I exited the building, spotting Sam and Dean in the Impala across the road. I waited for a couple of cars to pass, and then half-walked, half-jogged across to them, climbing into the back seat.
"So?" Dean asked, looking back at me.
"So... the secretary's name is Carly. She's twenty-three, she kayaks..." I raised an eyebrow at Dean. "...and they're real." I added with a smirk. He nodded with a grin and chuckled. I held up a piece of paper with a number on it and winked at him, he looked a little surprised."I think she kind of batted for the other team, sorry darlin'" I said to him, giving him a little kiss on the cheek. He chuckled again and shook his head, it's not like we ever acted on these things, but there was an ongoing competition about who could get the most numbers per month. Currently the record stood for this year stood at eighteen, and I held it.
"You didn't happen to ask her if she's seen any black dogs lately, did you?" Sam asked, interrupting us and bringing us back to the job at hand.
I handed him a page. "Every complaint called in this week about anything big, black, or dog-like. There's nineteen calls in all." I said.
Dean was looking at something under the number, he frowned. "I don't know what this thing is," He said, looking at me.
Sam took the note and read it, laughing.
"You mean Carly's MySpace address?" He asked and I grinned.
"Yeah, MySpace, what the hell is that?" Dean asked, looking back at me when Sam just laughed at him again."Seriously, is that like some sort of porn site?"
I grinned and kissed him, shaking my head."You don't want to know Dean."
I had taken one glance at MySpace ages ago and never been back – it was a social nightmare. Hard to have friends when you're too busy moving on and leaving them behind, there was no point. Sam had a page, of course, for keeping in touch with all his college friends, but for Dean and I? There was simply no point, we kind of made up the extent of our circle of friends, and we pretty much liked it that way too.
Dr. Pearlman's House
It was the ninth house we'd been to and Dean was starting to get a little testy. Sam knocked on the door of yet another white suburban house and waited for someone to answer. Dean shifted uncomfortably in his suit jacket, his irritation starting to show.
"I swear, if this is another freakin' Pomeranian barking in the neighbour's yard..." He said, his voice trailing off as the door was answered by a young woman.
"Afternoon, ma'am," Dean said, pulling out his ID. "Uh, animal control."
"Oh, someone already came yesterday," the woman said, looking confused.
"We're just following up. We're looking for a Doctor Sylvia Pearlman?" Sam said.
The woman asked us into the house, showing us into the kitchen where she'd been preparing a meal. We all stood around an island bench that was covered in fresh vegetables, it looked as if the woman was getting ready to cut them all up to put into a large pot on the stove.
"The Doctor, well, she, I don't know exactly when she'll be back, she left two days ago," the woman said, looking at us all, she looked a little uncomfortable, like she didn't like having strangers in the house.
"Ok. And you are...?" Sam asked, turning on his puppy-dog eyes.
"I'm Ms Pearlman's maid," the woman said with a smile.
"So where did the Doctor go?" I asked, looking around the neatly kept house.
"I'm not sure. She just packed and went, she didn't say where," the woman answered. She frowned and looked at Sam."That stray dog, did you find it finally?"
"Oh, not yet. You know, you didn't ever happen to see the dog yourself, did you?" Sam asked.
"Well, no. I never even heard it," She answered. I frowned, that seemed a little odd, your boss claims she is being followed by a wild, stray dog and you don't even hear it?
Dean had wandered over to a pin board full of photos. He took one of the photos off the board and walked back to show me, it pictured the Doctor at a bar with two friends.
"I was almost starting to think the Doctor was imagining things, but she's not like that, so..." the maid's voice trailed off and Dean looked up at her.
"Hey, you know I read she was, uh, chief surgeon at the hospital. She's gotta be what, forty-two, forty-three? That's pretty young for that job." Dean said with a smile.
The maid smiled back at him proudly."Youngest in the history of the place. She got the position... ten years ago?"
"Huh," Dean said thoughtfully, looking at me.
"Huh, an overnight success," I said, frowning."Ten years ago."
"Yeah we know a guy like that. Oh, look at this," Dean said, holding up the back of the photo to me."Lloyd's Bar." His eyes were suddenly very serious and we all quietly contemplated the previous visit to Sean Boyden's work partner. He'd mentioned that bar before too.
Lloyd's Bar
Lloyd's Bar was a tiny little weatherboard one-room shack on the corner of a crossroad. It reminded me of the Roadhouse a little, only it was much smaller. There were a couple of cars parked out the front of it, and a variety of shrubbery grew around the bar. I noticed some yellow flowers growing by the side of the road and stopped to take a closer look. They framed all four corners of the crossroad, they definitely weren't growing there wild.
"That's weird," I said, stopping in the middle of the road.
"What?" Dean asked, looking over at me.
"Think someone planted these?" I asked, gesturing to the yellow flowers.
"In the middle of all these weeds?" Sam asked, looking doubtful.
"These are... uh... what do you call them?" Dean asked, searching for the word.
"Yarrow." I said, frowning.
"Yeah. Used for certain rituals, aren't they?" Dean commented, coming up and laying his hand at the small of my back.
"Yeah. Summoning rituals," I said with a frown, stepping into his touch.
"So two people become sudden successes about ten years ago. Right around the time they were hanging out here at Lloyd's." Dean said, looking over at Sam.
"Where there just happens to be a crossroads," Sam said, nodding. "You think?"
Dean sighed. "Let's find out." He pulled away from me and I felt a little stab of panic in my stomach. I wasn't really coping this last week with the job. With anything. I felt sick all the time again, and it was just starting to get on top of me. We'd had a little bit of a break since our run in with the law in Baltimore, to let the trail die down. Maybe I was just getting soft, back on the first case in just under a month.
Dean grabbed a shovel out of the car and walked to the centre of the crossroads, spinning in a circle, looking around. "This seem about the dead centre to you?" He asked. I paused and calculated, nodding when I agreed with him. He crouched down and started digging into the hard soil. After a few inches, he stopped, hitting something. He stopped and looked up at Sam and I, we closed in to where he was.
"Yahtzee," Dean said with a smile. He dropped the shovel and dug with his hands, pulling out an old rusted box from the earth. He opened it and we found several small bones and a small jar, among other things.
Sam pulled the jar out of the box, looking at it with interest. "I'd be willing to bet that's graveyard dirt. And a black cat bone," he said, nodding to the bones.
"That's serious spellwork. I mean, that's Deep South Hoodoo stuff." Dean said, looking at me, a small amount of worry behind his eyes."Used to summon a demon," he finished.
I bit my lip, looking at the pair of them. I'd been doing my fair share of demon study lately, ever since we'd come across Meg.
"Not just summon one. Crossroads are where pacts are made. These people are actually making deals with the thing," I said, looking around, almost expecting to see a demon waiting for us. I forced back that idea with a shudder.
"Yeah, because that always ends good," Dean muttered, shaking his head.
"They're seeing dogs all right. But not Black Dogs, they're seeing Hellhounds. Demonic pit bulls," Sam said.
"Yeah, and whoever this demon is, it's back and it's collecting. And that doctor lady? Wherever she's running? She ain't running fast enough." Dean said, his brow furrowing into a frown.
"So it's just like the Robert Johnson legend, right? I mean, selling your soul at the crossroads, kind of deal?" Sam asked, looking at us.
"Yeah, except that wasn't a legend. I mean, you know his music..." Dean said to Sam. Sam shrugged at us and I gaped.
"You don't know Robert Johnson's songs?" I asked. "There's occult references all over his lyrics, I mean, Crossroad Blues? Me And The Devil Blues? Hellhound On My Trail?" Sam just looked at us with a blank face. Dean rolled his eyes at me and I smirked, we were so different to our little brother, it just wasn't funny sometimes.
"Anyway, the story goes, he died choking on his own blood, he was hallucinating, and muttering about big evil dogs," Dean said and I nodded.
"And now it's happening all over again," Sam pointed out. Dean leaned into me, his hand on my waist, glancing down.
"Yeah," he said quietly. I looked at him, curious about what had caused the chance in his demeanour.
Sam was pacing in front of us. "We've gotta figure out if anyone else struck any bargains around here."
Dean tensed and frowned at me. "Great. So we've gotta clean up these peoples' mess for them? I mean, they're not exactly squeaky clean. Nobody put a gun to their head and forced them to play Let's Make A Deal." I sighed, he was right, in a way.
"So what, we should just leave them to die?" Sam asked.
"Somebody goes over Niagara in a barrel, you gonna jump in and try to save them?" Dean asked, and I shrugged.
"He does have a point," I said to Sam who looked at me surprised.
"Come on, guys," Sam said, frowning.
We looked at him and then exchanged another look. Dean's eyes told me he clearly thought that we were crazy if we took this one on. I raised my eyebrow a little at him to let him know I agreed, but it was a resigned look.
"All right," Dean sighed. "Fine." He looked back at Sam. "Rituals like this, you've got to put your own photo into the mix, right? So this guy probably summoned this thing, let's go and see if anyone inside knows him. If he's still alive." I nodded, and pulled away to lead the way into the bar, I could already feel it was going to be a long, long day – and there was a niggling undercurrent of nausea in my stomach, knowing I was in such close proximity to a demon summoning area.
Apartment Building
The apartment was on the fourth floor, we were winding our way up the stairs trudging along slowly.
"What's this guy's name again?" Sam asked.
"George Darrow," I said. "Apparently quite the regular at Lloyd's."
Dean looked around, the apartment building was hardly high end. "This house probably ain't up next on MTV Cribs, is it?" He asked and I nodded. Whatever deal George Darrow had done with a demon, it clearly hadn't been for money. Sam was obviously thinking along the same lines.
"Obviously whatever deal he made wasn't for cash," Sam said, looking around as we walked.
Dean grinned at me. "Who knows, maybe this place is full of babes in Princess Leia bikinis," he winked at me and I laughed. Halloween had just passed a week earlier and I'd completely forgotten about the promise I'd made to find a Princess Leia bikini to wear a few months back.
I raised an eyebrow at Dean and he chuckled. "Thought I forgot, didn't you?" He asked and I shook my head with a smile.
"No, I'm just saying, this guy's got one epic bill come due. Hope at least he asked for something fun," Dean added, coming to a stop in front of the doorway that was Darrow's apartment.
I looked down, and then squatted in front of the door, spotting something I hadn't seen before.
"Look at this," I said, fingering a fine black powder that was scattered along the line of the door.
"What is that, pepper?" Dean asked. I shrugged, staring at the powder.
"I'm not sure... maybe..." I said. The door in front of me swung open, startling me and I stood up quickly, backing up into Dean's chest.
There was a middle-aged man with greying hair in front of me, wearing a grimy t-shirt and an open cardigan.
"Who the hell are you?" He snapped, looking at us with a frown.
"George Darrow?" Dean asked, his hands on my shoulders.
"I'm not buying anything," George said and started to close the door.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa, looks like you went for the wrong shaker there," Dean said, circling around me and pointing at the black powder. "Usually when you want to keep something evil out you go for the salt."
The man regarded Dean with a steely gaze. "I don't know what you're talkin' about."
"Talking about this," Dean said, holding up the small picture of Darrow that we'd found in the box buried at the crossroads. "Tell me. You seen that Hellhound yet?"
"Please," Sam said, stepping forward. "We want to help. Just five minutes?" Darrow considered the three of us and then showed us into the studio apartment. It was spacious, dusty and dark. Light filtered in through the shaded windows in dusty rays. There were paintings everywhere, on the walls, on easels, leaning against the walls. He was an artist.
Darrow went over to a table and poured himself a glass of whiskey. There were all sorts of painting supplies scattered across the table, but he ignored them.
"So what is that stuff out front?" I asked, wandering over to look at a painting that was half finished.
"Goofer dust," Darrow said to me. I looked at him blankly. I'd never heard of it. The boys shrugged too, neither had they, obviously.
"What, you kids think you know somethin' about somethin' but not Goofer dust?" Darrow asked, taking a sip of whiskey with one hand, and tossing a brown sack at Dean with the other. He caught it with ease, looking it over.
"Well, we know a little about a lot of things. Just enough to make us dangerous." Dean said carefully.
"What is it?" Sam asked.
"Hoodoo. My grandma taught me. Keeps out demons." Darrow said. I shuddered.
"Demons we know." I said quietly, looking around, feeling nauseas.
"Well, then. Keep it. Maybe it'll do you some good," he said, walking over to a chair and putting his drink down on the table next to it. "Four minutes left," he said to Sam, reminding us that we only had five minutes of his time that he'd agreed to.
Sam took the lead. "Mr. Darrow. We know you're in trouble," he said.
"Yeah, what you got yourself into," Dean said with a nod.
"But it's not helpless, all right?" Sam said, glancing over at Dean with a half-glare. "There's gotta be something we can do."
Darrow looked at Dean and Sam, standing next to each other a few feet away from him.
"Listen. I get that you boys want to help," he said, taking a seat and looking back at us. "But sometimes a person makes their bed, they've just got to lie down in it. I'm the one called that demon in the first place," he said, looking resigned to his fate.
I frowned, I'd heard a speech like this before. I looked over at Dean, staring, thinking about what could have been had John not made his own deal with a demon. I bit my lip, Darrow seemed as cool, calm and collected about his fate as John had, he'd made his peace with it. I wish I could say the same for me. I still had nightmares over it.
"What'd you do it for?" Dean asked, curious.
"I was weak. I mean, who don't want to be great? Who don't want their life to mean something? I just...I just never thought about the price," he admitted, taking another sip of his whiskey.
"Was it worth it?" I asked, walking over to look at him. He looked at up me as if I was crazy.
"Hell no!" He said with a smirk. "'Course, I asked for talent. Shoulda gone for fame. I'm still broke, and lonely. Just now I got this pile of paintings don't nobody want." He gestured to his paintings. "But that wasn't the worst."
"Go on," Sam urged quietly.
"Demon didn't leave. I never counted on that. After our deal was done, the damn thing stayed at Lloyd's for a week. Just chattin'. Makin' more deals. I tried to warn folks, but, I mean who's going to listen to an old drunk?" He said.
I frowned, looking over at the boys. "How many others are there?" I asked, turning back to Darrow.
"Uh, the architect, that doctor lady – I kept up with them, they've been in the papers. Least they got famous." Darrow said, taking another drink.
"Who else, George? Come on, think." I said, maybe a little forcefully because Sam and Dean both glanced over at me, a little curious.
"One more," Darrow said, looking up at us. "Uh, nice guy too. Hudson... Evan, I think. I don't know what he asked for. Don't matter now. We done for."
"No. No, there's gotta be a way," Sam argued, always the optimist.
"You don't get it!" Darrow said angrily. "I don't want a way!"
Sam frowned. "Look, you don't..."
"I called that thing!" Darrow said loudly, standing up from his chair. "I brought it on myself. I brought it on them. I'm going to Hell, one way or another." He said, there was a resolution in his eyes, he was ready. "All I want is to finish my last painting. Day or two, I'm done. I'm just trying to hold them off 'til then. Buy a little time." He looked over at the unfinished painting, a sadness in his eyes. "OK, time you went, go help somebody that wants help."
Sam shook his head, stubborn until the end. I nodded at Darrow, I'd heard this speech before, there was no point in arguing.
"We can't just..." Sam was trying to argue again.
"Get out!" Darrow said, waving us out. "I got work to do."
"You don't really want to die," Sam said quietly. I bit my lip, thinking about John.
"I don't?" Darrow asked, shaking his head. "I'm... I'm tired." He looked it too. Dean frowned and came over to me, slipping an arm around my waist, looking at me thoughtfully. There was something in my eyes obviously that he didn't like, I didn't want to talk about it, but something told me I wasn't going to get a say in it when I looked at Dean's eyes.
Local Bar
Dean left Sam at the front of the bar to look into Evan Hudson's current whereabouts. He took my arm, pulling me out to a back room and leading us to a booth in the corner. It was secluded and quiet at this time of day, no one was around. He put a couple of glasses of bourbon in front of me, sliding in next to me and looking sternly at me.
"Spill," he said and I looked down at the bourbon, spinning the glass in my hands. "Something's on your mind, now talk."
I sighed, trying to think of just where to start with this conversation, trying to decide if I was even going to have it.
"I don't know Dean, it's just everything. It feels like we are just spinning our wheels sometimes, stuck in the mud," I said quietly, his eyes softened and he put a hand on my arm.
"Go on," he prompted me, watching.
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly, I shrugged, words failing me.
"Does this have to do with that whole thing you said earlier? Do you regret coming with us when your dad died?" He asked, frowning.
I looked up sharply, shaking my head. "No, no I would never... Dean, that's not it." He looked a little relieved.
"Although, sometimes I wonder just what we're doing, why we are fighting all the time for everyone else. We've been so selfless for most of our lives, at what point will we be allowed to be selfish? It seems like we just get a whole lot of pain and not much more, and what difference is it really making? What kind of legacy are we going to leave behind? One that no one will even remember?" I said, taking a long swallow of my bourbon, grimacing as it stung my throat.
"We save lives Beth, that's plenty enough for me," Dean said, looking at me. "Used to be for you too."
I nodded, thinking. "Maybe it's not enough any more though. I mean, look at us... you're wanted in like half a dozen states for murders and other things. We live our lives on the run, constantly, and that isn't going to change in the near future, maybe never."
"You want it to?" He asked quietly, squeezing my hand.
"I don't know! I don't know what I want Dean." I said, leaning my chin on my free hand, elbow on the table. "But we've lost Dad, and no one will ever know of the good things he did for the world, the people he saved, his memory is carried on in us alone, and then when we're gone, who will remember him?" Tears came to my eyes. "Who will remember the good that he did for complete strangers? What he did for us?"
Dean frowned, and scooted around a little closer, slipping his arm around my shoulders, pressing his lips to my forehead, resting against me.
"It doesn't matter who remembers, it only matters that he did it," Dean said. "This is the price we pay for the life we lead. It's a thankless job."
"Yeah, but at what point is the price too high?" I asked, looking down at my hands.
Dean paused, looking down at me, clearly thinking about something. I continued to spin the glass in my hands, anxious, not really wanting a drink.
"This demon deal thing," he said finally. "It sure seems to have you on edge."
I nodded, I couldn't deny it, he knew me too well.
"You didn't even try to argue with Darrow," Dean pointed out and I sighed softly.
"I've heard that speech before Dean, there was no getting him to see otherwise." I leaned against him, feeling his warmth seep into my ice cold body.
"Dad?" He asked. I nodded silently and he sighed.
"I knew that you knew more than you were letting on," he said quietly.
"I didn't want to upset you," I said, starting to panic a little, thinking about the last time I'd kept a secret from Dean about John. He'd hit the roof and made me promise never to do it again, and yet here I was, still keeping secrets.
Dean nodded quietly. "It's ok," he said. "I mean, I know he did something, made some sort of deal. He had to have." He leaned back a little, turning my head toward him, brushing his hand along my hairline, fingers sliding through my hair a little.
"You should have told me sooner," he said quietly, looking at me with hazel eyes filled with concern.
"I wanted to," I whispered, biting my lip. "I didn't want you to blame yourself."
"Instead you've been doing that yourself," he said knowingly. "You said you should have stopped him, when we were in Greenville." I nodded silently.
"You can't stop Dad from doing anything once he puts his mind to it, you know that." Dean said with a sigh, kissing me on the nose. I closed my eyes, fighting back the tears that were building there, taking a shaky breath.
"I know," I said. "But it doesn't mean I don't blame myself for not trying."
Dean thought about this and then nodded, taking a sip out of his own drink.
"Well... what's done is done. We can't change it now, and Dad made his bed," he said resolutely. I looked at him, thinking about the different things Dean had been saying all day, about how it wasn't our place to rescue these people who made their deals, that no one had forced them to sell their souls. He was right, but it didn't make it any easier. He'd clearly been giving this a lot of thought.
"You seem remarkably calm about all this," I said quietly, pointing out his uncharacteristic quiet.
"I've had a lot of time to think about it," he said. "You know, during the times when you weren't talking about it." He raised his eyebrow at me with a smirk. I smiled at him. "You're not exactly a good poker player, I know when you're bothered about something," he added.
"Then when you said you felt guilty for being happy that I lived, and Dad didn't..." He paused to look at me gently. "Well, it kind of started to make sense...you knew he made a deal?"
I nodded again, not trusting my voice to speak.
"You couldn't have done anything about it," Dean said, looking sad. "Dad made his choice."
"You're still strangely calm about all this," I said finally, watching him.
He sighed. "You think I haven't thought about the same things? How if I wasn't here Dad would be? He wouldn't want me to wallow in self-pity when he made that kind of a sacrifice." He looked at me, there was a resignation in his eyes, a sadness that underlined what he was saying.
"Yeah, it's killing me, thinking about it..." he continued, "and I want to get this son of a bitch as soon as we can figure out how, but until then, I'm not wasting another minute Beth, I'm not wasting this time I have with you." I stared at him, I'd never heard him talk like this, it was so...different. Something must have showed in my eyes because he laughed, looking at me softly.
"Do you know how many years with you I wasted? All because I was too scared to stand up to Dad? Too busy letting him tell me how to live my life?" He asked.
I nodded sadly, it had been a long time.
"He's given me back a life, it's a gift, he's given me back you." He kissed me again, this time it was longer, deeper. He slid a hand up into my hair, tilting my head to angle it so he could lean into me, holding my chin with his other hand. It was breathtaking when he kissed me like this. I moaned and surrendered to the moment, closing my eyes and reaching up with my own hand to lay it against his cheek, feeling the smooth skin from his fresh shave.
I smiled happy tears at him when he pulled away finally.
"Tell me you love me," I whispered, he grinned at me.
"As you wish," he said, leaning his forehead against mine and quoting one of my favourite lines from a childhood movie.
I shoved him playfully and giggled. "Silly!" He smiled and pulled me in close again, our noses bumping against each other as his lips played across mine, a whisper of breath trailed over my cheek.
"I do," he said more seriously, before claiming my lips again, softly, lovingly, breathing into me as I yielded to the strength of him, feeling myself surrender to all the love I felt for him.
"Ahem!" Sam's voice suddenly sounded next to us and we broke apart slowly, Dean scowling at his brother.
"Oh this better be good Sammy," he said threateningly, but in a joking manner.
"Evan Hudson, lives about an hour from here," Sam said, pulling up a chair and looking at us. "We going, or do you two have more... important... things to discuss?" He said with a smirk.
Evan Hudson's House
It was getting dark as we arrived at Evan's house, we exited the car and wandered up the stairs. It was a simple home, clearly not the home of a rich and successful man who had won his riches through a demonic deal. I found myself wondering just what it was that Evan had sold his soul for.
Sam knocked at the door and a moment later it was opened by a middle-aged man, grey hair and beard, soft, kind brown eyes. He looked flustered, like he was in a hurry.
"Yes?" He asked, looking at us.
"Evan Hudson?" Sam asked, looking at the man.
"Yeah," he confirmed, nodding.
"You ever been to a bar called Lloyd's? Would have been about ten years ago," Dean asked outright.
Evan looked terrified at the question and then slammed the door in our faces, we heard the lock tumble into place from the other side. Sam scowled at Dean, rolling his eyes.
"Come on! We're not demons!" Dean shouted at the shut door.
"Any other bright ideas?" Sam asked Dean, a touch of frustration in his voice.
Dean looked over at me and then stepped back, looking at the door. He kicked out with his boot toward the door with a grunt, connecting with it near the handle. It swung open, broken from the sheer force of the kick. We entered, looking around. There were the sounds of Evan running deeper into the house and we followed.
We came to a double-door and Dean prepared to kick in that door as well. I put a staying hand on his arm, shaking my head. I reached out with a pointed look at them and turned the handle on the door. It was unlocked. I opened the door and pushed it open gently, the room was deathly quiet.
"Evan?" I asked, peering around the door as I entered.
Evan jumped out from behind a bookshelf, looking terrified. "Please! Don't hurt me!"
I held out my hands to him, showing him that I was unarmed. "We're not going to hurt you all right? We're here to help you." I said to him, and he stopped to look at me.
"We know all about the genius deal you made," Dean said, stepping in from behind me.
"What? How?" Evan asked, looking at us confused.
"Doesn't matter. All that matters is, we're trying to stop it," Sam said, adding in his thoughts.
"How do I know you're not lying?" Evan asked, and I conceded that it was a fair question.
"Well, you don't, but you don't have a lot of options right now Evan," I said, stepping closer to him.
Evan paused, running a hand across his mouth, starting to pace in front of us.
"Can you stop it?" He asked urgently.
"Don't know. We'll try." Sam answered.
"I don't want to die," Evan said, fear showing in his eyes.
"Of course you don't, not now." Dean said, all trace of that softness from earlier having vanished, he was back to thinking people were idiots for making deals like this.
"Dean," I said softly, looking at him. "Stop."
"What'd you ask for anyway, Evan?" Dean asked, ignoring me. "Huh? Never need Viagra? Bowl a perfect game? What?" I frowned at Dean and shook my head, he could be so infuriating sometimes.
"My wife," Evan said quietly, looking at him.
Dean laughed, shaking his head. "Right. Gettin' the girl. Well, that's worth a trip to Hell for."
"Dean!" I said crossly, frowning at him.
"No. He's right, I made the deal. Nobody twisted my arm, that... woman, or whatever she was, at the bar? She said I could have anything I wanted. I thought she was nuts at first, but...I don't know how to... I was desperate," he said, explaining his reasoning to us.
"Desperate?" Sam asked, confused.
"Julie was dying," he said with a nod.
"You did it to save her?" Dean asked, surprised.
"She had cancer, they'd stopped treatment, they were moving her into hospice, they kept saying...a matter of days. So yeah, I made the deal. And I'd do it again. I'd have died for her on the spot." Evan said, I closed my eyes and shook my head. Love. It sure made us do some stupid things.
"Did you ever think about her in all this?" Dean asked, suddenly his tone changed.
"I did this for her," Evan said, frowning.
Dean stepped forward and looked at him. "You sure about that? I think you did it for yourself. So you wouldn't have to live without her. But guess what? She's going to have to live without you now. But what if she knew how much it cost? What if she knew it cost your soul? How do you think she'd feel?" This was the other side I hadn't heard from Dean, and it seemed to be overspilling now. I was suddenly very conflicted by what he'd said earlier, and what was coming out of his mouth now.
Sam put a hand on Dean's chest, stepping in between him and Evan. "OK. That's enough," Sam said to his brother, turning to look at Evan. "You just sit tight, all right? We're going to figure this out."
He gave Dean a bit of a shove back toward the hall, and I took Dean's arm, leading him out of the room, Sam following.
"You all right?" I asked Dean once we were out of earshot.
"Yeah, why wouldn't I be?" He asked, back to aloof Dean. I frowned.
He looked up at Sam. "Hey, I got an idea," he said, pulling the goofer dust out of his jacket. "You throw George's hoodoo at that Hellhound, keep it away from Evan as long as you can. I'm gonna go to the crossroads and summon the demon."
"What?!" I exclaimed, looking at him like he was mad.
"Summon – are you nuts?" Sam asked, mirroring my thoughts.
"Maybe a little. But I can trap it. I can exorcise it, and I can buy us some time to figure out something more permanent." Dean said. I frowned, maybe that would work.
"Yeah, but how much time?" Sam asked, dubious.
"I don't know, a while. I mean, it's not easy for those suckers to claw their way back from Hell and into the sunshine." Dean said.
"No. No way." I said, shaking my head. The last thing I wanted was be anywhere near another demon.
"You got a better idea?" Dean asked, looking at me.
"Dean, forget it all right? I'm not letting you summon that demon!" I said, starting to panic.
"Why not?" Dean asked, frowning.
"Because I don't like where your head is at right now, that's why not." I said, looking at him worried.
"What are you talking about?" Dean asked.
"Well this is a far cry from what you were telling me earlier, what happened to just being grateful for being here? That you can't change the choices people make? Then you're all... how would his wife feel if she knew the real price? Dean, there's something else you aren't telling me and it's scaring me, ok?" I looked at him, fear in my eyes.
"We don't have time for this," Dean said, starting to walk past me. Sam stopped him with a single word.
"Dad," Sam said. Dean stopped in his tracks and turned to look at him. "You think maybe Dad made one of these deals, huh? Hell, I've been thinking it. I'm sure you've both been thinking it too."
"He did make a deal, Sam. My life for his soul. I know it. We all know it. He just made this deal without any thought for how it would make me feel, what it would mean." Dean said quietly.
Sam looked confused, but there was no time to explain, Evan's voice cried out from inside the office. "I think I hear it! It's outside!"
"Just... keep him alive, ok?" Dean said, starting to walk back toward the front door.
"Dean!" Sam called out.
"Go!" Dean yelled back at him, going around the corner. I hesitated and then ran after Dean. He looked at me as I came around the corner, I scowled at him.
"If you think you're doing this without me, you got another thing coming Dean." I said, pushing past him. He stopped to look at me and then chuckled as we walked down the stairs together.
"Nope, I want you right there with me, like you should be," he said with a smile. I paused. "We do this together, or not at all," he said. He was just a mass body of confusion to me right now. I shrugged, giving up on trying to understand him and got in the car.
Crossroads at Lloyd's Bar
I watched as Dean placed his photo in the box of George's Hoodoo magic.
"I don't like this Dean," I said, for the third time in the last twenty minutes.
"It's the only way to save Evan," he said to me, pausing to look into my eyes. "You know what you have to do?" I nodded, but my head was screaming at me.
"You sure you're up to this? You haven't seen a demon in a while... what about your...?" He looked at my stomach and touched my face gently.
I swallowed. "I'll be fine, I can control it," I said, talking about the nausea and dizziness I felt whenever a demon was around me – one of the side-effects of having been a meatsuit to one of them in the past.
He nodded, his eyes full of trust. "OK. Be careful," he said, kissing me quickly.
"You too," I said and then I turned to walk away into the trees nearby. I waited there while Dean buried the box. No sooner had he covered the box over with dirt than a woman appeared behind him, dressed in a sexy black dress, her long black hair spilling over her shoulders.
"So. What brings a guy like you to a place like this?" She asked. Dean looked at her appraisingly. "You called me?" She added.
"I'm just glad it worked," Dean said with a smile, looking her over.
"First time?" She asked, looking at him flirtatiously.
"You could say that," Dean said.
"Oh, come on now. Don't sell yourself short. I know all about you, Dean Winchester." She said, her eyes flashing red.
Dean stood a little straighter, taking in a breath. "So, you know who I am."
"I get the newsletter," she kidded with a smile.
"Well don't keep me in suspense. What have you heard?" Dean asked.
"Well," she said, walking up to him, staring into his eyes. "I heard you were handsome. But you're just edible," she said with a smile, looking at him with a hunger - I paused to wonder whether or not she was being literal with the edible comment. "What can I do for you Dean?" She asked after a few moments.
Dean looked up, casting a gaze around the perimeter. "Maybe we should do this in my car. Nice and private," he said, leaning in to her.
"Sounds good to me," she said with a smile. They turned to stroll over to the Impala which was parked a short distance away.
I bit my lip, thinking about the plan and hoping that it just played out the way it was supposed to, just for once in our lives.
"So," Dean said, as they walked toward the car. "I was hoping we could make a deal."
"That's what I do," she said to him, raising an eyebrow.
"I want Evan Hudson released from his contract." Dean said daringly, looking at her.
She smirked. "Hmm. So sorry darling. That's not negotiable."
"I'll make it worth your while." Dean offered as they reached the Impala.
"Oh really? What are you offering?" She asked, curious.
"Me." Dean said deadpan, looking at her in all seriousness.
"Well, well, well. You'd sacrifice your life for someone else's," she said, looking him over. "Like father, like son."
Dean looked at her warily, and I was glad we'd had that earlier conversation about the deal John had struck with the yellow-eyed demon. Still, it was a little different hearing it from a demon's mouth, I just hoped he held it together.
"You did know about your dad's deal, right? His life for yours? Oh I didn't make the deal myself, but...boy, I wish I had," she said shaking her head in appreciation.
Dean grit his teeth, not responding to the taunt. He opened the passenger side door on the Impala, gesturing to the demon.
"After you," he said.
"Such a gentleman," she smiled, starting to step into the car. She looked down and paused, seeing the edge of the symbol we'd drawn extending from the car. She reared back, turning to face him with her eyes glaring.
"A devil's trap? You've got to be kidding me!" She said angrily. I stood up, swallowing hard. Dammit.
"You stupid, stupid... I should rip you limb from limb," she said slamming the car door shut.
"Take your best shot," Dean dared her. She started to move in on him, but then thought better of it.
"No, I don't think so. I'm not going to put you out of your misery," she said.
"Yeah? Why not?" Dean asked, glaring at her.
"Because your misery's the whole point. It's too much fun to watch. Knowing how your daddy died for you, how he sold his soul. I mean, that's gotta hurt – no matter who you surround yourself with, no matter how much love anyone shows you." She stalked toward Dean who was retreating, now backed up against the wooden post of the water tower nearby.
"It's all you ever think about. You wake up and your first thought is, "I can't do this any more." You're all lit up with pain," the demon said, getting up in his face, simpering at him. "I mean, you loved him so much. And it's all your fault." Dean recoiled, looking away. She smirked and looked up at him.
"You blew it Dean! I could have given you what you need," she said.
"What do I need?" Dean asked, swallowing hard and looking at her. I bit my lip, standing up and moving closer to them, I didn't like where this conversation was going.
"Your father," the demon said to Dean. "I could have brought him back. Your loss." She started to walk away. "Seeya Dean. I wish you a nice long life." Dean watched her, starting to step forward when I made my move.
"Wait." I said to her, stepping out of the trees. She spun to look at me with a smile on her face. Dean looked at me, bewildered. I ignored him.
"Beth... how nice of you to join us, I knew you wouldn't be too far away," the demon said to me, her eyes flashing red again.
I fought down the nausea and stepped toward her, walking through the legs of the water tower to cross over to her.
"Beth..." Dean growled at me warningly, but I shook my head. The demon looked amused, glancing from him to me.
"Can you bring him back? Our dad?" I asked her, and Dean threw me a wild look.
"Of course I can. Just as he was," the demon said, starting to walk back to me. "John would live a long and natural life, like he was meant to. That's a promise."
"What about me?" I said, looking at her, offering me as the deal.
"I could give you ten years. Ten long good years with him, and Dean. That's a lifetime. The family can be together again. John, Dean, Sammy and you. The Winchesters, all reunited." I hesitated, but I didn't refuse. Dean walked around to my side, grabbing my arm, his eyes flashing angry.
"Stop this, don't you do this." I shook him off, looking back at the demon.
"Look," the demon said. "Your dad's supposed to be alive. You could have given yourself over for Dean, but you didn't. So we're just setting things right," she said, and I stared into her eyes. "Putting things in their natural order. And you get ten extra years with your beloved Dean on top. That's a bonus."
She was very close to me, I thought it over, hesitating and Dean grabbed my arm pulling me away from her.
"Beth, what is she talking about?" Dean asked, turning me to face him. I looked from him to the demon, swallowing, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.
The demon watched us, curious, and then started to walk toward us again.
"You know, this over protective thing you have going on for each other is..." She stopped short, a realisation reaching her eyes. She looked up, at the same time I did and saw the devil's trap drawn beneath the water tank she was now standing under.
"Beth!" She said warningly.
"Now you're really trapped. That's got to hurt," I said with a smirk, turning to smile at Dean who was grinning. The plan had worked like a charm.
"Let me out. Now." Red eyes flashed at us threateningly.
"Sure. We just gotta make a little deal here first," Dean said. "You call off your Hellhounds and let Evan go. Then I'll let you go."
"I can't break a binding contract," she said, glaring at him.
"Hmmm. And by 'can't' you mean 'don't want to'?" Dean said with an amused look.
"Last chance," I said to her. "Evan and his wife get to live to a ripe old age." She just glared at me.
"Going... going..." Dean taunted.
"Let's talk about this," the demon tried to bargain.
Dean rolled his eyes, looking at me. "OK, gone!" He said with a nod and I pulled out John's journal, flipping to the exorcism page.
I was holding my rosary in my hand, looking at the journal.
"What are you doing?" The demon asked, watching me.
"Oh, you're just gonna go on a little trip," Dean said. "Way down South."
"Forget Evan," the demon said, looking at me. "Think of your dad."
I looked back at Dean, but he shook his head, indicating that I should begin. I hesitated, wondering if we could get more out of this deal.
"Beth," Dean said. "We don't make deals with devils." I sighed and nodded.
"Regna terrae, cantate deo..." I started the exorcism, seeing the panic rise into her eyes. I kept reading the Latin before me, in my peripheral vision I saw her start to flinch and convulse as the exorcism started to take hold.
Dean paced, watching her, and I was starting to think it wouldn't work.
"...in potentis Magnife!" I said.
"Wait!" The demon called out and I paused.
Dean looked at me and I shrugged. "Do we have a deal?" I asked.
The demon reached out suddenly and grabbed Dean, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. I gaped, but before I could do anything she broke it off, Dean stepped back a little stunned and blinked.
"What the hell was that for?" He asked, looking over at me.
"Sealing the deal," she said with a smile.
"I usually like to be warned before I'm violated with demon tongue," Dean said, deadpan. She chuckled in response, looking over at me.
"Evan Hudson is free. He and his wife will live long lives," she said.
"How do we know you're not lying?" Dean asked.
"My word is my bond," she said simply.
"Oh, really?" Dean said, raising his eyebrow.
"It is when I make a deal. It's the rules. You got what you wanted. Now let me go." She said, looking between the two of us.
I hesitated, fingering the rosary, all kinds of anger coming up within me. I looked down at the unfinished exorcism, contemplating. The look didn't go unnoticed on her.
"You're gonna double-cross me? Funny how I'm the trustworthy one." I shrugged.
"Well you did just kiss my boyfriend... right... in … front of me." I said, raising an eyebrow.
The demon smirked back at me. "You know, you renege? Send me to Hell? Sooner or later I'm gonna climb out, and skinning Evan Hudson is gonna be the first thing that I do," she threatened.
I thought about it, then put the rosary around my neck, closing the journal with a slight inclination of my head. Dean smiled and climbed up the leg of the tower, breaking the protective circle above her head. She stepped out, a sour look on her face.
"I gotta tell you. You would have never pulled that stunt if you knew," she said.
"Knew what?" I asked, frowning
"Where your dad is," she said, turning to face us. Dean had climbed back down and moved to stand next to me. "You should have made that deal. See, people talk about Hell, but it's just a word. It doesn't even come close to describing the real thing."
"Shut your mouth, bitch." Dean said angrily.
"If you could see your poor daddy? Hear the sounds he makes 'cause he can't even scream?" I swallowed hard, wondering if she was telling the truth, fearing that she was.
Dean advanced on her. "How about I send you back there?" He threatened. Her head threw back and suddenly black smoke poured out of her mouth as she screamed. Dean pulled me back against the tower, and we watched as the demon vacated it's host.
The girl it had been possessing slumped to the ground, alive and unharmed, confused.
"What... how did I get here?" She asked, looking up at us. Dean exchanged a look with me that shared my horror at what we'd just heard. We'd failed again, maybe we could have saved John from that torment, and yet, all we'd managed to do was secure the freedom of a complete stranger, our family still in tatters.
"I should have made the deal," I said, stepping back from the woman.
"What? No!" Dean said, frowning and grabbing me by the arms. "No, that's what it wants you to think. It's trying to torment you Beth, this wasn't negotiable, you know that."
I looked at him, tears in my eyes.
"What does it matter Dean? Which one of us is suffering? We all suffer. Better it were me that were in that hell hole than Dad." I cried, thumping my fists against his chest.
"Why would you say that?" He asked, confused.
"Because I deserve it Dean! I killed my own father, I watched our dad die and I did nothing to stop it. I could have given up my own soul to save you but I didn't." He frowned, shaking me a little bit to get me to see sense.
"Beth, you haven't done anything wrong, this wasn't your fault," he said.
"I wasn't strong enough, I'm not strong enough. I should have stopped it, each time I wasn't strong enough to do it, what good am I to any of you?" I rambled.
"Stop it, just stop it right now!" Dean said, looking at me and then pulling me into a tight hug.
"We're here, what's done is done Beth. At the end of the day I wouldn't do it over, I couldn't. I won't see you do this to yourself. Dad made his deal, it's done. You have to let it go." I sobbed into his chest, letting all the pain and guilt flow out of me. I knew he was right but I didn't want to let it go, I couldn't. It hurt so much.
Impala
Sam was struggling with the news that we'd told him.
"How could he do it?" Sam asked, tears in his eyes as he leaned forward from the back seat.
"He did it for Dean," I said, looking over at his brother who was staring out the window, still struggling a little with having to break the news to Sam.
Sam shook his head. "You know, the thought of him... wherever he is right now. I mean, he spent his whole life chasing that... yellow-eyed bastard. He should have gone out fighting. That was supposed to be his legacy. You know? Not bargaining with the damn thing."
I frowned, this was a different tone from Sam. "How many people do you think Dad saved? Total?" I asked him.
"That's not the point Beth," Sam said, looking at me.
"Yes it is! Evan Hudson is safe because of what Dad taught us. That's his legacy Sam. It's the legacy we'll carry on for him, we have to. We have to keep going, for him." I said this for Sam as much as for myself and Dean too.
Sam shook his head. "Dean?"
Dean looked back at him. "Yeah?"
"You agree with Beth?" He asked, watching his brother.
"Yeah, yeah I do Sam, he's given me a life, I should make the most of it, he would want that." Dean said, repeating what he'd said to me in the bar earlier.
I sighed, looking out the window.
"Beth...when you trapped that demon, when you offered yourself... I mean, it was a trick right? You never considered actually making that deal, right?" Sam asked. "It's what you guys had planned all along?"
I looked at Sam, the worry in his eyes was so obvious. I tried to smile, but couldn't quite get it out. Turning to stare out the window, I said nothing.
"Of course she didn't," Dean said for me, glancing over. "It was just an act Sam."
His look told me he wasn't so convinced of his argument, that perhaps if I'd been alone I might have given in and done the deal, but I hadn't, all because he'd been there with me – I had a moment to think maybe that's why he'd wanted me there too, so he wouldn't go through with it either.
He reached over and squeezed my hand, holding it between us. I smiled at him, tired, and tried to show him that I was all right. But I wasn't, not really. There was a big emptiness starting to eat away at me, and I wasn't sure just where it was going to stop. All I knew was that it eased when I was with Dean, and Sam, and so we had to stick together, as a family, and get each other through this, it was the only way forward.
AUTHOR'S NOTES
Song for the chapter is: All This And Heaven Too by Florence and the Machine (I freaking LOVE this song!)
Big thanks to EarthhAngel for her proof reading and storyline suggestions, and just being an all round fun person to talk with :D I added some more stuff to it after you were done, so if there's any mistakes, they're mine! :D
OK What's next? Ooooh Croatoan! Nasty nasty stuff :D Should hopefully be up within a few days – then I'm away overnight in the city so another short break. It's looking like updates might go to the every couple of days at this point. Sorry, that pesky thing called a real life is encroaching!
Welcome to all the new followers – please leave me a review and let me know what you think!
Oh and finally, a bit of a shout-out to one of my favourite movies growing up - The Princess Bride with that line where Dean tells her he loves her. Did you catch it?