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Goodbye Is Never Forever
Chapter Eighteen: In This Together
Lawrence, Kansas - Home - 02:13PM
With a new found sense of determination and the willingness to believe, even against all smarter senses, that his little sister might still be out there somewhere, Dean headed down the stairs. He had left her bedroom the way he had found it, as if in the back of his mind he somehow expected her to come home and realize that someone had been rooting through her things. There were a thousand and one different thoughts bombarding themselves through his mind, all at once, so fast that he couldn't even hope to keep up with them. They were loud, relentless, and it almost felt like a screaming headache pounding against his skull. But he worked to ignore it. He didn't know what to think, what to feel, which of the thoughts to believe. He had no plan and no real sense of what was happening around him anymore. It was a blur. He bypassed the living room, unable to go back in there. He couldn't face his parents again, not looking the way they did. It was too much. He couldn't sit and listen to them plan a funeral for a girl he wasn't even sure was gone.
A part of him knew that he was clutching at straws, and that he was probably eyeball deep in denial. He was more than aware that he should have been grieving with his family, feeling sorrow for the loss of his best friend and sister, but he couldn't allow those feelings to enter, he couldn't acknowledge them, because he couldn't accept that they were even real. He just couldn't swallow the thought that she was really gone. And he wouldn't. Not until he was sure.
Dean knew something about Alison that no one else in that house did. And that was enough reason for him to take the chance on her. He had to find out for himself where she had been, and what she had been doing. Because maybe there was a chance that she was still out there somewhere, and maybe she needed his help. It was a small chance, and he wasn't naive about it. Things weren't looking good for her, but even the smallest chance of hope was enough for him. The smarter part of him knew that he was going out on a whim, but he couldn't just sit around and accept the fact that the best person he had ever known was gone forever. Didn't he owe her more than that? Maybe a year ago he would have, but she had taught him that the world wasn't black and white, and that sometimes there was far more to a situation than they could see. He couldn't shake the feeling that they were missing something.
It was as Dean entered the kitchen that something hit him like a punch to the face, stopping him dead in his tracks. His eyes fell to his brother and he realized, he hadn't even known that he was home again. A pang of guilt ran through him, because he hadn't bothered to call, to even ask his parents where he was, or how he was. It hadn't even entered his head. Sam had been a large part of his thoughts on the journey home, but once he had stepped through the front door, once he had spoken to his father, once he had seen the distraught state of his mother, everything had left him.
Sam stood at the kitchen counter, staring of the window ahead, not at anything in particular, he just stared. He looked vacant, and, even from where he stood in the doorway, Dean could tell that he had been crying. His eyes were reddened, and he looked as though he hadn't slept in days. He appeared too lost, troubled, too absorbed in his own dark thoughts to realize he was no longer alone. What was he supposed to say to him? How was he supposed to tell him what he thought to really be true? Did he tell him at all? Because how was he supposed to explain everything he knew about their sister to him? He wasn't stupid, he was more than aware of how it sounded, but something trusted in Sam to believe him. Or to at least give him the benefit of the doubt.
In the end, Alison had gotten through to him. She had made him understand a world he hadn't even known existed, and maybe he could do the same with his brother.
Sam was one of the few people in the world that Alison really trusted, and he knew she wouldn't begrudge him telling their brother the truth about her. Alison had never been afraid to show Sam her darker side. He had seen the side of her that wasn't always happy, the side where she didn't always forgive. He had seen her cry, he had seen her at her lowest, and she would trust him with her secrets. If there was anyone he could share what he knew with, it was his brother. And a part of him knew that Alison would have said the same thing.
"Hey, Sammy." he said, his voice was soft, so not to disturb the heavy silence that seemed to loom over the whole house. It was empty and absorbing, like a cloud of darkness hanging over them. It took a moment for him to react, but his brother looked up and gave him the smallest nod of acknowledgement. He said nothing. "How you doing, bro?"
Again, Sam took a while to react. He sighed, turning to look at him properly, and he shrugged, heavyhearted. "I can't believe she's gone, Dean." he admitted quietly. He sounded so young, so vulnerable, so miserable.
Dean nodded, as if to say that he understood, but he didn't. It was in these moments, when the darkest and most unthinkable things happened, that Sam looked to his brother for strength, for answers, but Dean couldn't offer either. He couldn't help Sam understand something he was yet to understand himself.
"Sammy," Dean sighed, his heart broke for his brother, for the look of devastation that shone in his eyes, and he knew he had to say something. "Listen, there's something I need to talk to you about, and I need you to hear me out." He paused, choosing his words carefully. His voice lowered dramatically to ensure his parents wouldn't hear what he was about to say. "I don't think she's dead."
Sam's entire face fell at his words. His eyes were wide, unblinking, and, for a moment, he was sure that he had heard him wrong. They had all been worried about how Dean would take the news of his little sister's death. They were close, they were best friends, Alison had been his entire world, because there wasn't one of them without the other, but this was something they could never have anticipated. Sam was afraid. "What?"
"Sammy," Dean persisted, his voice was pleading, begging him to hear him out. "Please, I know how it sounds. Just, go with me on this. She's alive. Alison's alive."
But Sam wasn't comprehending what was being said to him. He shook his head slowly, remorseful, sorrowful. He couldn't take it. It was a conversation that he just couldn't have. "Dean, I know it's hard—"
"No. You don't understand," Dean took a step closer to him, his voice strong, hard, determined, just the opposite of how he felt. But he needed to make him understand. "Alison did stuff. And, I mean, not...normal stuff. There are things out there, and—"
"Dean." Sam stopped him, holding up a hand, it was going too far. He was more than confused, well past concerned, and he knew the smartest thing he could do at that point was tell his parents how hard his brother was taking it. But he didn't. Dean looked more than certain of whatever he was trying to say, and he knew he really believed himself, but he couldn't listen to it. He noticed, there was no sign of emotion in his face. There was no loss, no sadness, it was as though the news hadn't even affected him, like it hadn't sunken into his head yet. He hadn't fully realized what had happened, he hadn't accepted it yet. "You're not making any sense. Just think about what you're saying. Alison's gone. And, I know it's awful but—"
"Look," Dean snapped, quickly growing impatient, but even he thought his tone was a little too forceful. He wasn't going to stand there and let his brother council him into accepting their sister's death. He knew how it sounded, and he was more than aware that Sam probably thought he had gone off the deep end, but he had said too much to back out now. "I can't make you understand this, and I don't have the time to stand here and explain it to you. I just need you to trust me."
Sam sighed deeply. He didn't know what to say. "Dean—"
"Please." Dean practically begged him, desperate. "Please, Sammy, I need your help here, man."
Sam regarded him for a long moment, and hazel eyes found green. He didn't look convinced at all, in fact, Dean was pretty sure he had no faith in the idea of their sister being alive whatsoever. How could he? Sam had been there through the police visits and the search for her, he had probably been there when the police had confirmed her death. He had more than likely seen his parents break down over the news. How could he expect him to believe there was a hope of her being alive? But, after a long moment, and to Dean's surprise, he nodded. It was clearly reluctant, but it was there. "Okay." he caved. "What do you want me to do?"
Sam noted how Dean's features seemed to relax a little. Maybe this was how he could help Dean. Maybe he just had to go along with it. Maybe he just needed to help his brother comprehend what had happened. Dean was clearly in denial, as though he hadn't faced the horrible reality of what was going on around them. He was desperately searching for something to take it all away, to change it, he hadn't faced the fact that, no matter how much they wished it was different, Alison wasn't coming home. And the only way to ensure that Dean got through it was to go through it with him. He had to do this for his brother.
But the look of relief was more than evident in his face, and he nodded, thankful. "We need to go to Missouri." Dean stated, and if the words hadn't been so clear Sam would have been sure he had misheard him.
His stomach dropped, and he knew then that he'd made a mistake in agreeing to help him. That was something he couldn't do. And he couldn't imagine why his brother would want to go there, either. He couldn't even begin to imagine what was going on in his head, but he was worried, more worried than he had ever been about him. "Why would you want to go there?" he asked, frowning. "Dean, you know that's where they found her, I mean, how—"
"Sam." he stopped him before he could talk himself back out of it. "Just—"
"Trust you?" Sam shook his head. "Is that what you're going to ask? No, Dean. No. This is going too far. I get that this is hard, believe me, I know. But we can't go anywhere. We can't leave mom. She's just lost her daughter, I mean—"
"Sam, I'm going to say this in the nicest way possible. If you don't come with me, mom really is going to lose her daughter, do you hear me? Dad is going to lose his daughter, and you are going to lose your sister." Sam looked a little taken aback, by his harsh tone or his disturbing words, Dean wasn't sure. "Please, I need you to do this for me." Sam opened and closed his mouth to protest, but he didn't get the chance. "I know you think I've lost my mind, and I know you're probably thinking I'm in some kind of denial, but I'm not. I know what's real. I know things about Alison, things that no one else knows, and I can't tell you right now what those things are, but, believe me, what I know about her is enough for me to know that she could still be out there somewhere. And I can't take the chance of just letting her go. She could be in real trouble right now, Sammy, she needs us."
Sam frowned, trying to register his words. "Dean, if you know something, we need to tell mom and dad." he urged. "They need to know if she's still alive somewhere. We need to tell the police."
"No." Dean shook his head. "We can't tell them. Not mom." But Sam didn't look sure. "Take one look at her, Sammy, you think she can take hearing something like this right now? Or dad? We need to do this alone, and we need to do it now. Please, Sam, I am begging you here. I need your help."
But he knew Sam wasn't fully on board. "And what if you're wrong, huh?" he pushed. "Then what?"
Dean shrugged, and he looked down for a moment, away from him. It was something he didn't want to think about, because, if he was wrong, that meant that Alison was gone, and it was a possibility that he didn't want to face. He thought for a long moment, and he looked back to face his brother. "Then I'm wrong." he accepted. "And, if I am wrong, if she really is gone, maybe we'll get some answers. Maybe we'll find out what really happened to her. And, I swear, if she is gone, I'll find and murder the son of a bitch that hurt her myself."
Sam shook his head. Dean's tone was lethal, sincere, and he knew he meant every word. "Isn't that what the cops are for? You know they're looking for her killer. They'll find him, Dean, they—"
Dean scoffed. "Sam, the police don't know Alison." he snapped, all of his patience was gone. "We do. I know where to look, places they wouldn't ever think of."
His eyes narrowed. "Because you know this big secret about her?" he pressed, curious. "The one you can't tell me about?"
"Yes, actually." he confirmed. "Sam, Ali might be alive, why is that so hard to accept?"
Sam was silent for a moment, and he shook his head, looking out of the window. "You know something, Dean, I wanna believe you, I really do. There is nothing I want more than to see her walk through that front door again, but," He sighed, and something in his face changed. "I was here, you know. Mom called me, she asked me if I'd heard from her, said she'd been to one of those stupid college weekends and she hadn't come home, she wasn't answering her phone, I mean, she was so worried. And, you know what I said to her? I told her she was fine, that she'd probably got caught up there or something, that she didn't need to worry, and I didn't think anything else of it. I mean, who the hell has college open weekends in November? We should have known that something was wrong, and I didn't even think." He sounded bitter, but with no one but himself. "And then dad called. He said they were putting out a missing persons on her, that her friends had come home and Ali had never been with them in the first place. That's when I came home. I walked into a house full of cops, they were in her bedroom, they were looking at photos, asking us if she had any enemies. I mean, like anyone could ever make an enemy out of Alison. They took down a description of her, it was serious." He sighed. "And then they came back. They told us that they'd found a body matching her description. Dad wanted to go, he said it over and over again, but mom said no. She said she had to do it. The look on her face when she came home, Dean, you can't even imagine it. That night, she screamed and she cried and she blamed herself, she was just..." He trailed off, there were tears in his eyes as he thought back, despondent. "You know I'd never seen dad cry before that night. You don't get it, you don't understand what it's been like. You didn't see them. And now you're asking me to believe that she's alive? After all of that? How am I supposed to believe that none of that was real?"
Dean looked away from him, tears shining in his own eyes. He had never seen his brother look the way he did there, it was as though a light had gone out inside him. The hurt consumed him. What he had seen had broken him, and Dean couldn't imagine for a second being in the situation he had. He wasn't sure he could have taken sitting there while the police raided his sister's room looking for clues, and it dawned on him then that was why it was so clean, their mother had been in there after them and tidied up, as if ready for her to come home. He couldn't imagine watching his parents fall apart right in front of him, unable to lift a finger to help. He wasn't sure he would have coped. And he knew that what he was asking of his brother was a lot, too much, but he had no choice. They needed to do it.
"Sammy, I'm sorry." he said softly, because what more could he say? "But, please, I know it's hard, and I know that you don't want to, but I need you to do this with me. Please. We don't have much time." His eyes searched his. "I need you."
"You know that one of us is wrong, don't you?" he said, his voice was soft, apologetic.
Dean nodded slowly. Everything was made clear by that comment. Sam believed she was dead, and he believed she was alive. All he could do was pray that he was right. "I know."
Sam saw the plea in his brother's green eyes, he saw the desperation and the fear, the determination and the stubbornness. He wasn't going to back down, and he knew right there that he truly believed his own words. He believed with everything he had that their sister was alive somewhere, what could he really say to argue? Dean had made up his mind, and he was going to carry out whatever plan he had with or without him. It didn't matter what he said, or what he did, there was no changing his mind. He couldn't leave him to discover the horrible truth alone, he knew he needed to be there when the world came crashing down around him, when he realized that she wasn't coming home. Dean was right, he needed him, but not for the reason he thought.
Hesitant, and against all better judgement, he nodded. "Okay."
