Hey, right well I certainly didn't expect to have my internet up and running so soon, brilliant. This is the last chapter, at least for now anyways. I've kind of left it so that I can continue with a sequal, it just depends how busy I am at uni, although I already have a few ideas running through my head. Thank you everyone for the reviews and for reading this, hopefully you didn't think it was too awful.
One final time and because I nearly always forgot to add a disclaimer- I don't own supernatural.
Chapter 15
Sat on the steps to the house, my head in my hands I had time to reflect. After collapsing the floor, everything had been one huge blur to me. Sam and Dean took charge of everything, with the help of the Sheriff. The few officers that were unconscious needed some explaining. As did the Deputy dropping all charges against us, allowing us to walk free. I didn't have the energy to be happy about that, just relieved; I had other things on my mind like the pain in my wrist, the dull ache in my head and the heap of junk that was my truck which was blocking the road.
Sam smiled at me from across the yard as they talked to the Sheriff. Dean was leaning casually against his car as he explained something to the Deputy or rather the new Sheriff. I didn't have the brain power to join in instead I smiled back, trying to put on a brave face. One thing was for sure, this was by far the worst state I'd ever been in after a hunt. The odd bruise or the odd sprain sure but never this much pain, granted I'd never deliberately crashed my truck before.
I couldn't sit moping forever, reluctantly, with my entire body protesting I forced myself to my feet and went to investigate my truck. The truck and I had become good friends, yeah it was a useless pile of crap but it was my useless pile of crap. It was a sorry site with a door barely hanging on by its hinges and a smashed in front. I had no idea if it was worth fixing, it might be cheaper to buy a new car, one with a working radio maybe something faster and cooler. But I could think about that later, for now I needed to get it moved, fingers crossed it'll start.
It didn't and I didn't have the patience to think of another way to get it moved so I kicked it. Well I kicked the tyre, which in hindsight wasn't a sharp thing to do. The converse on my feet did nothing to soften the blow; they just assisted the tyre in making my toes hurt. It felt like the world was out to get me, god awful thing that it is. Cursing the truck to hell and deciding on the spot that I no longer minded a new car, I slammed the door shut and leant against it folding my arms. Who knew I was capable off such an overdramatic tantrum. At least the Winchester's were too busy to see. Still silently fuming at myself more than anything I waited for them to finish so they could help me push the mass of rusted metal to the side and let me hitch a ride. Staying in this town wasn't an option.
Aside from the looks we kept exchanging Sam and I hadn't spoken about what happened earlier. I wanted to though, which surprised me more than anything else, I guess I'd have to tackle that later. "Smile a little we just iced the Shapeshifter," Dean grinned as he and his brother left the new Sheriff with her officers.
"What is there to smile about?" I shot back.
"Come on we're alive and no more wanted than usual," I couldn't help but laugh, he was right, "and I don't know about you two but I could certainly use a beer."
"Dean, you could always use a beer," Sam sighed.
"That's all very well," I stood up straight and stepped away from my dead truck, "but before that I've got a problem." I tapped my foot, rather than the forceful kick earlier, against my truck.
"What's that?" Sam asked.
"This crappy rust bucket won't start, until we move that were stuck here," I replied. We had very little time left to move it, before long the officers, one of which had already stirred, would be looking for an explanation and neither of us wanted to give it.
"Rust bucket? Isn't that being a bit polite?" Dean teased. If I thought it would help I'd have kicked him too whilst I was at it in defence of my truck, despite how right he was.
The only way to move it was to push it out of the way with the handbrake off, a smug smile crept onto my face, "for that, you can do the pushing." Dean raised his eyebrows at my threat and looked to Sam for help. Sam shrugged and by the looks of things was trying to hide a smile, turned my smile to him, "don't think you're getting off scot free, you can help him." Both brothers were speechless, something I felt was more of an achievement than finally introducing the Shapeshifter to a little someone called death.
I opened the drivers' side door and let go off the handbrake so the truck would hopefully just push out of the way, I contemplated sitting inside to steer but that would create more work for the Winchesters' so I opted for leaning awkwardly over the wheel whilst trying to push it as well. My poor red truck was a sorry mess and it was my fault.
A few minutes later and the truck had been pushed to the side of the dirt track, "what are you going to do with it?" Sam said as he wiped the dust from my truck onto his jeans. Dean wiped his hands, the exact same way as Sam. They were definitely brothers.
I swept my hair back up into a messy ponytail, the breeze had been blowing it about all over the shop and I was beginning to get on my nerves. That and I didn't want to brush out the birds' nest of knots. I was trying to think of answer to Sam's question. The only option I could think of was to sell it for scraps and buy another rusted hunk of metal on four wheels. So long as it started and had some form of radio I could hook my iPod up to I wasn't going to complain. "Leave it to rot in some junk yard, that thing isn't worthy of anything," Dean answered Sam who rolled his eyes at his brother.
"Oi! That's my truck, you might not like it but I" I paused trying to find a way to describe it. Cheap, convenient, sturdy? But I failed, "actually no I hated it," Dean was right, "I'll just buy a new one after selling this for scrap and parts."
"Nothing on that truck would be useful for parts," honestly, didn't Dean know when to shut his mouth. To make a point I punched him none to lightly in the arm. Apparently, I was capable of plenty of violence, I blame the Winchesters' or rather one in particular and I'm sure you can guess who.
Dean walked back to their car mumbling to himself, "So," Sam began, "what are you going to do now." I truthfully had no idea.
"Looks like I'm sticking around town for a while until I get something sorted," it seemed both of us were skirting around what really needed to be said. I was too independent and stubborn to ask for help, after all it was my problem to fix but looking past Sam to the gathering of officer I was starting the think that wasn't a good idea but then again, how long would it take for me to get back on my feet so to speak.
"You don't have to, we've got a friend who can sort you out with a car and until then you can hitch a ride with us," Sam suggested with a hint of hope. I could hardly say no, what other option was I left with and it would give me a chance to spend more time with Sam despite the niggling feeling that I was being a burden.
"Thanks," I smiled and hugged Sam, "and Dean?"
"Will cope," he replied. Sam helped me carry my very few bags to the back of their car.
Dean looked up at the sound of by bags thudding to the floor, "what's going on?" he asked as he eyed my bags sceptically. Leaving Sam to answer to his brothers' protests I made an excuse to go and get the rest of my stuff. All that was left was my laptop and a battered photo album that I kept under the passenger seat.
When I returned the Winchesters' had already loaded my bags into their car and I could hear them bickering from a few meters away, "she needs to know," I heard Dean say.
"Needs to know what?" I said as I crossed the last few steps, my curiosity piqued.
Both Winchesters' exchanged a look and kept silent, each hoping the other would say something, "there are certain rules if you're joining us on the road," Dean finally told all. However, I had a feeling that what Dean was saying was just an excuse, whatever, if they didn't want to tell me then fine but looking at Sam the expression on his face seemed to say otherwise. What on earth was going on?
"Okay then, lets hear them," I replied. I could hardly complain they were kind enough to let me tag along for a while.
"Drivers choice of music the rest of you shut your cake hole and none of this touchy feely emotional crap," Dean reeled off a few more rules and I listened whilst trying hard not to laugh, he seriously loved his car or rather the Impala as I should be referring to it as. Sam gave me an apologetic look behind Dean's back, one thing was for sure, travelling with the Winchesters' wasn't going to be dull.
The plan we had was to head towards someone called Bobby, the Winchesters' knew him quite well by the sounds of things. It wasn't going to be a direct route though, depending on what hunts turned up. So for the next few weeks I would no longer be working alone, I'd give it a few days before they wanted to kill me. What can I say, I'm stubborn.
Dean went round to the drivers' side and Sam and I both looked at each other and the door handle to the back seat. "Don't even think about it Sam, you guys carry on as normal. I don't want to be a burden."
Sam's face softened, he swept some hair that had fallen from my messy pony tail behind my ear, "You're not."
"Oi! Will you two hurry up, Sam front seat, Alice stop being stubborn," Dean shouted through the open window.
I opened the car door and climbed into the back shoving my laptop and album onto the back seat. With dawn just beginning to show itself over the horizon we left Manchester behind and headed west, music blaring away loudly through Dean's open window. I rested my head on the cold window and closed my eyes, finally able to rest my tired achy body or at least I tried. The loud music and breeze from the window proving to be quite the challenge, hopefully with time I'd get used to it.
Two hours later my stomach grumbled, reminding me that I'd barely eaten. I'd long since given up on sleep and had been watching the countryside and towns fly past the window. Sam was slouched against the side of the car; apparently he didn't have a problem with sleeping through the racket that Dean called music.
"Hey Dean?" I called loudly. He turned the music down, letting me speak at a normal volume, "can we stop for something to eat soon?"
"Sure," he replied. Excellent, even if it was diner food. Dean turned the music back up, louder than before cruelly stirring Sam from his sleep. "Hey sleepy head, you hungry?" Dean shouted over the music, as if Sam had woken himself up.
Once again, watching the two of them, I was reminded of my own brother. I sighed and looked at my album, I wanted to flick through it and look for hours on end at my family pictures but that wouldn't help. Instead I picked up my book and listened to the boys, "You knew I was asleep!" Sam protested.
Dean slowed down as a gas station appeared further down the road, he pulled in and we grabbed a quick bite to eat and take out coffee before continuing on the road. The three of us and the Impala were refuelled. Sam took over the driving, after words from Dean to drive carefully which I felt was a bit reach coming from Dean who had completely ignored every speed limit since Manchester. The loud music disappeared and was replaced by the local radio playing quietly. More than grateful for Dean's rule I immediately closed my eyes and went to sleep.
Late afternoon early evening sort of time we arrived in Hartford, Vermont where we were to spend the night. At least the Winchesters' had the same taste in dingy motel as I had, although I think that was more or less due to lack of money. It was cheap and cheerful.
Desperate to crash out for the night I hastily grabbed my bags and went to my room, next door to the Winchesters'. After a once again much needed shower, I munched on a chocolate bar and climbed into bed. I tossed and turned for what felt like hours but following a glance at my watch I discovered it had only been half an hour if that. Frustrated, I flicked on the TV and channel skipped hoping to be bored to sleep by some mind numbing sitcom.
A knock on my door was a very much welcomed sound after over an hour of staring at the telly. If you were to ask me what I was watching, I couldn't answer you. Without realising I was dressed in pyjamas I answered the door to find Sam. His eyes immediately travelled to my froggy pyjamas bottoms; I blushed kicking myself for not thinking to pull on some jeans. "Sorry, did I wake you?" he asked. I shook my head and stepped aside.
"I couldn't sleep," I answered politely. I was alone with Sam for the first time since Manchester and didn't know what to say, "I tried though," I said trying to sound positive.
"Wish I could say the same about Dean, he's snoring like a pig," he complained, I laughed and wasn't surprised at what he'd said. "Look Alice there's something you need to know," Sam said, changing the mood from being light-hearted to serious. This had to be about earlier, before we left. I was right Dean hadn't told me what they were discussing.
I sat down on the edge of the bed and patted it, "I thought so, now sit."
He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, whatever he was about to tell me must be difficult, "do you remember what I told you about my family?"
"Yeah," I replied, wondering where this was going.
"Well, shortly before we stopped the yellow-eyed demon I died," my eyes widened in shock. Was he talking figuratively or literally? How can someone die but be sat right next to me? Actually that's a stupid question for me to ask myself, I'm sure it's quite possible. "But Dean, he," Sam paused, I could see how difficult it was for him to talk about it, "he made a deal with a cross roads demon, his life for mine. He's got seven months left to live."
"Oh Sam," I wrapped my arms around him and felt him do the same.
"A demon named Lillith hold his contract and we're trying to stop her but time is passing," this was awful, if I'd have known I wouldn't have called them about the Shapeshifter.
"I want to help," I stated with determination.
Sam hesitated, "I wouldn't want for you to get hurt."
"Well that's just tough because I'm helping," I pulled away and folded my arms, as if to prove a point. This was yet another argument my stubbornness wouldn't allow me to back down from.
"Alice," I placed my hand on his lips, silencing him.
"Save it, I've made my mind up. It's the least I can do after you two have gone out of your way to help me."
"I would help you any day of the week," Sam confessed and laced his fingers with mine.
"This is what you wanted to tell me earlier. Am I right in guessing that Dean doesn't want me to know?" I asked.
"Yeah, he doesn't think you'll be with us for very long but well, it would be nice if you were," it was at that very moment that I realised that Sam needed me as much as I'd found I needed him.