AN: Please forgive the absence. RL got weird and scary, then I lost my muse. Thought that bitch was salted and burned. I am FORCING myself to write, so I hope it doesn't suck. If you're still there, thanks for sticking with me.
On a much brighter note, "While They Dance on A Pin" won First Place in the All-Time Favorite Supernatural Fanfic Category in the Fanatic Fanfics Multi Fanfic Awards. Thank you to any and all who voted for me. 3
The town looks bombed out, the street completely silent but for the flapping of ripped curtains through blown out windows and the pounding of our boots. We are all on high alert, though nothing and no one moves outside of our little heavily-armed group. We are well-protected, but against what, we aren't quite sure yet. No infected running our way, no half-seen shadows bending around corners, no feeling of eyes upon us. Just nothing. I look at my Dean and shake my head; I think the nothing is worse. Judging by the way everyone is holding their weapons and checking their backs, I think they feel the same.
We reach the fence at the Jackson County Sanitarium. Cas, Risa, and the others stand, squat, lean against overturned cars while inspecting their weapons, the environment, their shoes, whatever. It's clear they are keeping calm and readying themselves for whatever their Dean orders.
"There. Second-floor window. We go in there," he says, pointing.
"You sure about this?" Risa asks. For once, I am in total agreement with her. This is hinky.
"They'll never see us coming. Trust me. Now, weapons check. We're on the move in five," is his reply.
I don't buy it, though his little gang resumes their preparations, no more questions. I move closer to my Dean, begin straightening his jacket. Looking up into his concerned face, I have to let him know this bothers me, though he can no doubt tell.
"This is wrong," I say for his ears only. "So wrong. What is he doing?"
"I don't know," my man responds gruffly, "but I'm going to find out right now."
"Okay. I'll go work her angle, I guess," I tell him, jerking my head toward the other me, who at this moment is dutifully preparing to fight, headed away from the gathering point to secure the supplies they intend to leave behind. One quick kiss, and Dean and I depart for our separate stop-this-suicide-mission conversations.
"Hey, uh, me. Can I talk to you for a sec?" I smile, but only a little. Dean refuses to let this become normal.
When the other leads him away from listening ears, I follow the other me around a corner. She looks up, sees me coming, and all but rolls her eyes. When she obviously ignores me standing in front of her, I kind of lose my cool.
"What the hell, Jane?" I whisper-yell. No need to get everyone nervous. Yet. "Right in the front door? You have to know this is a tactical trainwreck."
"We go where he tells us to go." She still won't look at me.
"That's bullshit."
"No it isn't. We always do. Always did. How often do you question him?" She still won't look in my eyes, but judging by the self-satisfied huff she gives at my silence, she knows she's hit the mark. It's an easy mark. The truth usually is.
"True enough," I admit. "But I don't follow blindly. He's usually right. But he is never this wrong. Open your eyes, Jane."
"They are open," she hisses at me. At her younger, more naive, less broken self. It's all there in that sound, how different we are. How much she isn't me.
"But you don't care?"
"I don't care."
"But Cas. And the others. And Risa. They'll die. He's going to let you all die." I have to make her see. I have to make her understand. I have to know that I can never make this decision.
"Not me. Not here, anyway. I don't think . . . ." she trails off, not sure at all whether he will leave her behind to share the fate of the others. A fate he is so callously creating. She reaches a thought of which she is more certain. With a little nod, she assures me, "He needs back up to get in."
"Cas-"
"Can make his own decisions. Look, Luci is the target here. The only thing that matters."
"You can't let him-"
"I can," she cuts me off again. "I will. It's all gone anyway. Nothing to save, Jay. Nothing left." Of this, she is utterly convinced. I have never felt more pity for her. Or more anger.
"I don't even see myself in you. No part of me is in you. You are so wrong. You both are. And I'm going to stop this before you two take it too far!"
I realize now that if she's giving me this much trouble, Dean can't be having any better luck. He's out of sight, alone with a man who is sending his friends into death with no hesitation. I turn, running for Dean, whether to get help or give it, I don't know. I don't get the chance to do either.
His talk with the funhouse mirror is going even worse than mine.
"Take a look around you, man. This place should be white-hot with Croats. Where are they?" the more pathological version of Dean asks.
"They cleared a path for us. Which means that this is—"
"A trap. Exactly," their Dean confirms, not even trying to hide it. He knows there would be no point.
"Well, then we can't go through the front," I spit at him, trying so hard to convince him since i failed so badly with her. That gets his attention. He isn't pleased, but he isn't ruffled, either. This isn't good.
"Oh, we're not, sweetheart. They are. They're the decoys. You and me and loverboy here, we're going in through the back."
"You mean you're gonna feed your friends into a meat grinder? Cas, too? You want to use their deaths as a diversion?" Dean is simply unable to understand this.
"That's exactly what they're going to do," I tell him, sneering at the me beside myself.
"Oh, man, something is broken in you," Dean says as he tries to move closer to me. "You're making decisions that I would never make. I wouldn't sacrifice my friends."
"You're right. You wouldn't. It's one of the main reasons we're in this mess, actually." Broken Jane at least has enough emotion left to look less cold, almost sad, when she hears this. It's not enough, though. Not nearly enough.
"These people count on you. They trust you." This means something to my Dean. It always has. I still cannot accept that he will lose so much much of himself.
"They trust me to kill the devil and to save the world and that's exactly what I'm gonna do."
With a nod toward Jane, the other moves toward Dean. And it all goes black.
Once again I awake in this horrible world. This time I am not bound by ropes, but by arms I know so well. Arms that always save me. We sit in the mud, he holds me upright in the damp leaves, and in the near distance I hear gunfire.
"Dean?"
"Are you okay? What did that bitch do to you?"
"Hit me on the back of the head. I'm going to need stitches if people keep banging on the same spot."
"Son of a bitch!"
"Dean, I'm okay. What's happening?"
"I think they might have made it inside," he tells me as we run toward the fight.
The windows light up red with muzzle flash. Outside, the white of lightning chases it. And then thunder drowns out my screaming.
In a beautiful garden, Lucifer, in my Sammy's body, breaks the neck of the man who wears my Dean's face. As howls tear my throat apart, I think Jane could be right. There might not be anything left to save.
AN: I know it's not my best, but I need to publish something. Anything. Hope it's okay!