The car eases its way into the oncoming lane. Oh...I sloppily turn the wheel to the right, jerking the entire car back into my lane. The town road is utterly empty at this time of night. Shining dots dance in the night sky overhead and I get lost looking at them through the windshield. My gaze drifts back to the road and I slam on the brakes. "Fuck," I mumble unintelligibly. Bobby's street stares at me from the back of my rearview mirror, the street lamp lighting the way. I grumble some more slurred words, throwing the car back in reverse. My foot slams on the pedal and I shoot forward in my seat. The car nearly crashes right into the street light, almost taking down the Singer's Auto sign.
The house is jet black and Bobby's car is missing from its usual spot in the garage. I park beside a line of rusted, beat up cars and stumble out of my car. I don't even bother clearing the empty bottles sitting in the passenger seat. My feet trip over each other, my eyes half-closed with drunkenness. The door comes rushing at me and I barely stick my arms out in time to catch myself before breaking my nose. "Fucking step," I hiss glaring at the two wooden planks leading up the patio. The door is locked and I consider grabbing a brick and smashing the window. Key. The sober part of my mind reminds. I squat down looking under the door mat, nearly landing on my ass. The odd-shaped piece of metal brushes my fingers and I pull it out with a smile of pride.
Takes me about five minutes to get the key in the door the right way, but when I finally stumble in I fall down memory lane. I heave a heavy sigh and stumble to the liquor cabinet. The bottle of jack I drank finally hitting me, forcing me to sit Indian style to search through the cabinet. The glass bottles clink together roughly as my hand awkwardly picks through them. "No, nope, eh, there we go," I muse, pulling out a fresh bottle of Jameson. The burn in my chest is a welcomed feeling as I lean back against the cabinets. Moonlight streams in through the living room window, lighting up the old man's desk. The memories of all the things that have happened in that room fill my head. There was Steve and me going at it, the many yelling matches Bobby and I had, laughter from the brothers and I watching random movies on the worn sofa. I bring the glass hole to my mouth, tipping the amber liquid down my throat in one big swig.
The drinking used to fill the space where I was numb. It used to make me feel warm and safe for a while till it wore off and I was stuck in reality. That warm, fuzzy feeling is gone now. The drinks added up but the feeling didn't go away. It stayed making me crave more till the only thing left was to black out from the poison. "Sometimes I grow so tired, but I know I got one thing to do," I rasp the words, tongue tripping over the lyrics. I tip the bottle up in salute. "Ramble on," I holler, dripping a few drops to the floor in respect to Dean. My eyes glue themselves to the petite puddle of liquor beside me. I lose myself in the dark thoughts of my mind letting them consume me. The lights that cut into the dark house don't stir me and I don't hear the slamming of car doors. It's the squeaking of the unoiled hinges on the front door that pulls me out of the darkness.
"Bobbbyyy," I draw out with forced enthusiasm. The kitchen lights flick on. I squint my eyes against the burning brightness. "Ugh," I moan in discomfort, my eyes trying to readjust. A shadow falls over me and I feel the presence of someone at my level. I keep my eyes screwed shut, face scrunched up as I turn to face the person I assume is Bobby. "I thought you left me too, Singer." Warm fingers brush along my cheek, pushing my hair back from my face. My eyes finally open, my mind swimming in a sea of whiskey. The face before me makes my stomach violently flip, my heart stop, and my lungs freeze. Instinct kicks in and I shove him back. He falls back, barely catching himself on the countertop. "Aria, wait," Bobby's voice calls out, stepping in front of me with arms outstretched. My silver knife is drawn, the bottle of Jameson pouring out over the floor, my body swaying on drunken legs. I don't look away from the green-eyed man standing up, straightening his shirt out. "It's really him, kiddo. I'm not lying to you. I've done all the tests. He's the real deal," Bobby coaxes gently, inching my way. He grabs my knife, pulling it from my hands. I'm watching Bobby now to make sure the man is telling the truth. The truth of his eyes and the relief in his shoulders are my answer.
"Aria?" Dean stands away wearily. He looks exactly the same, clean-shaven, chiseled jaw, piercing green eyes, broad shoulders. The man doesn't even look like he was a hellhound's chew toy. The tears are there before I know it. I walk up quickly and crush the man in a fierce hug. I swallow down the sobs threatening me and breathe in his scent of motor oil and leather. Feeling Dean squeeze back puts all doubts to rest. It was him, he was real, alive. "How?" I ask in utter shock ripping away and stumbling a bit. "We don't know." The voice bursts my balloon of joy. My gaze shifts from Dean to Sam standing in the doorway. His hair is a bit longer but besides that he looks exactly the same. Except that he looks more worn down, his face haunted despite the joy he must be feeling having Dean back. But I don't welcome a smile, instead turning back to Dean.
"When did this happen?" I ask still elated with Dean's return. I didn't care how it happened only that he was standing here right now. I didn't fail, John. "About three weeks ago," Dean answers with a weak smile. "Three weeks?" I question shocked. It was like a fist to the gut. I thought I was family? Did I not bleed for these boys, fight side by side? Dean notices the crumpled look I can't hide. Bobby knows all my emotions like he knows his exorcism spells. He reaches out to comfort me and explain but I move away stalking into the living room. I'm not just crushed but angry. My hands clasp the edge of the desk piled with books as I lean down, trying to control myself. But I was out of control thanks to my few too many drinks. "Did you try to contact me?" my words a whisper in the silence. "A…" Dean starts already trying to force an excuse. "Don't," I bark viciously, spinning around to face him. No fucking nicknames in this moment, not when I meant nothing to them.
The eldest Winchester looks exhausted, his eyes haunted, and his face filled with shame. Bobby takes a step forward, "Let's get you upstairs and talk when we're all level-headed tomorrow." I shove his hands away. "You fucking raised me and you didn't even think to consider to tell me he was alive!? I've been a fucking train wreck for the last four fucking months and you didn't think I needed to know this!? What? Were you going to wait till I just showed up on your doorstep? Or how about when you needed a favor?" I spit the last question out at Sam and Dean. "Do I not matter to any of you? Did you all fucking forget about me?" I scream as tears pour down my cheeks.
My questions are met with silence. It hits me hard, suffocating me. My feet move on autopilot straight for the door. I don't belong here, I never did. Sam's hand grips my arm and I whip around landing a right hook to his face. The movement makes me stumble back into a wall but I don't care. He wiggles his jaw before sighing sadly, "Aria…" His words drown out as I move out the front door. The gravel crunches beneath my boots, the screen door bouncing off the frame several times as the boys follow. The world tilts and I struggle to walk a straight line to my car. Sam sprints in front of me, blocking my path. My nostrils are flared, jaw set firmly with fire in my eyes. I step left and Sam steps with. I go right and he's stays with me, blocking my path each time. The two of us go back and forth till my drunken feet trip on one another and I fall on my ass. My hands dig into the rock covered ground cutting my hands painfully. Sam reaches a hand down to me and I smack it away. He doesn't pull his hand away though, waiting for me to get over myself and take his help. I push myself up and shove him before moving to my car.
This time it's Dean who stops me, "Hey, hey, just hold up a second. Talk to me, what's this all about?" A harsh laugh erupts from me, "What's this all about? Why don't you ask Sam, Dean? Obviously, I'm out of the loop." I go to step around him but he reaches out grabbing my wrist. "How much did you drink?" he asks those piercing green eyes burning into my soul. I step on my tiptoes nearly falling into him as I let out a whiskey filled breath against his face. His nose scrunches up slightly and I snort, "Answer your question?" I try to jerk my arm out of his large hands but his grip is tight. "There's no way I'm letting you drive like this," he says like an angry parent catching their child doing something bad. "Pshh, you think I'm bad now, this is nothing compared to how I've been the last few months," I slur harshly. Those hard green eyes fall for a second before he puts the mask back up. "Come on," he orders grabbing my other arm and steering me back towards the house.
I fight back shoving at his chest till he finally lets go because of my flailing. "You didn't care about me the last three weeks. I don't need you to care right now," I bark, glaring Dean down but directing the comment to all three of them. "Aria May Redford." Bobby's voice is low, laced with a threat that dared me to disobey. I look to the man who raised me after everything was taken from me. He steps down the stairs heavily, feet purposely loud to show his rage. His face is in mine making me stumble back slightly. He catches my shoulders giving me a quick shake. "Don't you dare say I don't care, if I didn't care I would have let you gone off on your own to kill that demon, I would have let you die the night I found you in the truck bed. Would you like me to spell it out for you?" he yells in my face. I stare in complete shock at the man. Not once has he ever blown up on me, not even the days he had to pick me up from school because of the fights I got into. He lets go roughly staring at me with authority. "Now, get your ass inside and we will explain everything to you once you sober up." I didn't dare defy him in this moment.
I walk up the steps slowly making my way inside. I sit at the cluttered kitchen table, my hands in my lap, eyes glued to the spines of the books scattered about. Bobby follows behind filling the coffee pot and pulling out a mug. Dean and Sam stand in the doorway to the living room sharing quiet looks in the silence. Bobby brings the coffee over setting it in front of me before grabbing my chin. He tilts my face up into the light immediately noticing the faint bruising on my jaw. "How?" is all he asks letting go softly this time. He points to the steaming mug as he sits across from me. I take a small sip of the hot liquid before answering, "Hustling, guy found out and took a swing. It was the only hit he got before I laid into him. Got thrown out and went to a liquor store, then ended up here," I explain softly taking another drink of the coffee. Bobby doesn't say anything.
The three of us sit in silence for the next hour. Sam and Dean walk around aimlessly while Bobby glares me down till I'm done with the coffee. It's my fourth cup now and the caffeine is starting to hit me hard. The warm, fuzzy feeling of drunkenness hangs on barely, making me sober enough for Bobby's liking. "Now listen to me. All we know is that an angel pulled Dean out of hell, and before you start, yes, angels are real." I stare at the man letting the information sink in. The boys are watching me closely waiting for a response. But I don't have one. Honestly, I don't really care how Dean got out. What I care about is the fact that after everything I've done for them nobody bothered to think about how I would feel. "We had to bury you, you know that?" I ask turning to Dean. His face falls slightly, eyes growing heavy with guilt. "Stop it, would you? Look we are sorry for not contacting you sooner but we were a bit tied up with trying to figure out what did this," Sam barks back pushing off the wall with his shoulders tense and his face set in an angry scowl.
My eyes narrow as I stand going toe to toe with him. "Yeah, just like you were busy going off on a revenge hunt with your slut demon Ruby." Sam's eyes widen and both Dean and Bobby jump forward. "Ruby?" they question at the same time. The youngest Winchester just stares at me speechless. "Oh, yeah I know Sam." "What is she talking about?" Dean questions, voice wavering on the edge of uncontrollable rage. "I fucking tried to help you. Sat up night after night watching you drink yourself to the point of passing out, went on ridiculous hunts that nearly got us killed because you were so set on getting revenge. All for you to turn to the one fucking thing Dean asked you not to! You are so fucking blinded by that manipulative bitch that you can't see she's using you!"
It didn't feel it right away, my mind processing through the shock of what just happened. But the dull ache in my jaw confirms what I didn't want to believe. Dean and Bobby only look on in surprise, mouths slightly open in disbelief. Sam glares down at me, chest heaving. I huff in anger and then let loose. I move quick twisting his arm and driving an elbow into his ribs. A surprised 'oof' comes out before his fist jabs me in the side. After that the two of us go full force. Cheap hits are thrown as Bobby and Dean try to pull us apart. Sam and I fall to the floor, twisting and grappling for one another as we throw punches and kicks. His fist comes up nailing me in the face as my boot comes down on his stomach. The hits leave us stunned and breathless as Dean and Bobby dive in separating us. Dean pins Sam's arms behind his back as he struggles while Bobby holds me in a headlock.
"Knock it off both of you!" Dean hollers. Sam jerks in his hold and Dean shoves him harshly to the ground. "Enough!" he growls at Sam. I stare the younger of the two down, letting Bobby keep his firm hold on me. Dean's eyes flicker back and forth between us seeing the hateful stares. His face is full of rage yet his eyes are full of despair. "What the hell is wrong with you two?" We both remain silent. Dean lets out a defeated sigh releasing Sam. Bobby lets me go shortly after making sure Sam isn't going to make another go at me. I wipe my mouth and leave the room. Nobody moves to stop me so I make my way up the stairs and to my old room. I don't bother checking to see if anything's changed instead just going straight to the bed. The mattress creaks under me as I flop down. I curl up on my side ignoring the dull ache in ribs. I've dreamed of this day every night for the past four months. None of those dreams ended with this feeling of loneliness.
My head pounds, my tongue feeling like sandpaper stuck to the roof of my mouth. The light spilling over my closed eyes pulls a pained groan from me. I roll to my side and gasp at the shooting pain. I open my eyes, grinding my teeth together against the raging headache, and pull my shirt up. "What the fuck?" I whisper looking over the massive purple and blue bruise forming over my skin. My memory is foggy from the drinking but as I gingerly pull myself out of bed and look in the vanity mirror the events from last night come flooding in. Bile rises in my throat and I race to the bathroom. I stumble in just in time to spill out the contents of my stomach. My stomach retches till there's nothing left, leaving me curled up on my knees beside the toilet. The pain in my head pulses to the beat of my heart. He's alive. The thought pulls me out of my misery and I force myself up. The cold water I splash on my face feels wonderful against my flushed skin.
The bruises from the night before have blossomed into bright colors against my pale skin. My jaw an indigo blue with a dark plum purple color mixed in. Isn't this nice? I let out a heavy sigh and leave the bathroom not bothering with cover up. I can smell the alcohol on my clothes but I head down the stairs anyway. The majority of the night I remember, not so much how I got to Bobbys, but everything after is as clear as day. I shake my head at myself setting off a wave of nausea. My pulse races as I step off the last stair. My stomach fills with regret and fear. I'm tempted to just sneak out the back door and not face any of them. What I did last night was uncalled for. Yes, I was hurt by the fact that they didn't call, but the things I said and did, they didn't deserve that. Dean just survived Hell and what do I go and do? Throw a bunch of jabs his way to make him feel guiltier, and Bobby? The man has done nothing but be there for me these last few months, ever since I met him to be exact. But Sam was another story. Sure, I probably overreacted, but for him to just turn his back on me after two months of…I don't know what to call it, comfort? I didn't deserve to be ditched at a motel room with no clue about if he was okay only to find out he's working with that conniving bitch, Ruby.
I hide behind the wall beside the entrance to Bobby's study. I hear the old man huffing in aggravation as the slight thud of covers hit the thick stack of papers they protect. The clink of glass on wood sounds and I smile sadly knowing the sound and what's in that glass. "You gonna hide behind that wall all day or be useful?" My eyes close, head dropping in shame as I come around the corner hands stuck in my pockets. Looking up I see the boys set up around the room books clustered around them. Bobby gets up from his chair and stands before me gripping my chin to look at my face. He huffs shaking his head before pushing me towards the kitchen. I keep my eyes lowered from the boys and sit where Bobby directs me. He grabs a frozen bag of corn tossing it to me. I press it to my jaw wordlessly as he grabs a mug of coffee. "How are you feeling?" he asks subtly. "Truth or bullshit?" I question back. "Truth," he answers plainly knowing my little defense tactic.
"Physically, I feel pretty beat up. Might have cracked a rib but I'll live." "Emotionally?" I look up from the steaming mug into his brown eyes. "I'm sorry for everything I said last night. You, Dean, neither or you deserved that." His heads bobs in acknowledgement. "You want to tell me what the whole fist fight with Sam was about?" My gaze flickers to the other room. Sam's staring at me, his face bruised up just as well as mine. We need to talk, his eyes say. I look away, turning back to Bobby. "Not really," I answer. He looks over to Sam where he dropped his gaze. "Do I need to worry about another fight?" "No, sir," I say sitting up slowly. I force a smile and squeeze his arm in reassurance. "Think I'm going to go grab my bags from the car and get freshened up." Bobby nods and I head out giving a look towards Sam as I leave.
The sun is bright in the sky, a nice cool breeze ruffling my hair. My boots crunch under the gravel ground. My blood rushes through my veins with anxiety as I lean against my Mustang. I stare at the screen door waiting for him to show. Minutes later his six foot four frame walks out. His hands are dug into his pockets like a shy boy. "How did you know?" he asks softly head lowered. "I've spent the last three years with you. It wasn't that hard," I answer with a hard tone, eyes squinted against the blaring sun. "So, why didn't you do something then?" "What would you have me do, Sam? You left for a reason, you didn't want to be found, that much was obvious," I sigh heavily. "You had me Sam. I stood by your side and you ditched the only friend you had for a demon." "Aria, it wasn't like that," he tries. "No, Sam it was." It hurt to say it. But I was tired of being lied to, of lying to myself. The truth was that I would always be second choice to them. I've always known that. It was that way with John. I lost sight of that, forgetting that I had no one. Everybody died around me. I could understand why he left.
"What did you want me to do, Aria? He was gone. I had to go on and with you it was a daily reminder of what I'd lost. I needed to be stronger, and distancing myself from those I cared about made it possible. You of all people should be able to understand that," he says in defeat, his hazel eyes pained, shoulders slumped. The words were a knife to the chest. I shake my head pushing myself off the car, "That's exactly why I stayed with you! I know what that kind of loss does to you, who it turns you into. Dammit, Sam the person I became in those years after everything...I'm scared to be that person again. The number of people I hurt, it's not something that you ever forget," I explain in frustration. "What you are doing with Ruby, Sam...You're walking a very thin line. She's not good. I can guarantee you that. Demons are tortured souls, they don't feel sympathy, and they don't care. She is using you. I don't know what for but the day's gonna come where she's gonna ask you and you'll be so far in it with her you will do something you regret. I'm warning you to cut off ties with her. You have Dean back you don't need to be that person anymore."
He gives me several quick nods, lips pressed tightly together as he processes my words of advice. Birds chirp happily as they fly overhead. The sun burns brightly above warming my skin. I wait for him to say something more or at least say he understands. "Are we okay?" he asks softly, expression guarded. It was a hard question. I stare into his eyes, searching for the honesty and understanding. But he was a mask of masks. "I don't know," I remark. He sucks in a harsh breath as I move around him walking back to the house. I didn't want any more lies or secrets. I would have been lying if I said we were okay.