So I'm back from vacation. I had a great time, by the way. Did you know that the sun only sets for fifteen minutes in Alaska? I didn't, and my sleeping schedule was very messed up. So, I hope you enjoy this chapter of Cavere, and please write a review at the end. I really love hearing from you all. I have been made aware that I should make it clear who's point of view a chapter is if it's not Skylar's. I'll make sure to do that from now on. This chapter is from Skylar's point of view, so yeah.
"Aren't you at all angry that you met the demon responsible for the death of your family?" Dean asks me one day, about a month after I arrive. We are sitting at the dinner table, eating some really good burgers that Dean made. I'm barely paying attention to life beyond this burger, because, damn it's good.
It takes me a little while to realize that Dean's talking to me. I mean, who else would he be talking to, considering that Sam is gone for the day. Sam usually leaves once in a while, mainly because he hates being cooped up with me and Dean. I can't blame him for wanting to leave the house. If there weren't demons after me, and if Dean would let me, I would leave, too.
When I do realize that Dean's talking to me, I look up. "Um, not really," I admit. It seems a little strange, but I honestly haven't given it much thought. Also, there is the fact that I really don't believe that Crowley did it. He really didn't seem like he gave that much thought. It was more like an after note. I think that if he really did it, he would have made a bigger deal out of it. I think he wasn't thinking through what he was saying, and just hastily added it.
"But don't you want revenge?" Dean asks me, not-so-strangely confused with my response. From what I know about him, he takes revenge on demons that screw him over. I mean, he spent the majority of his life trying to track down and kill the demon who killed his mom. I mean, I get the whole being upset and wanting justice, but that ain't gonna bring anyone back.
"No," I say, kind of absent-mindedly. I get back to eating, and watch Dean's face and soul go shocked, which is a little bit funny. "What really is the point of revenge? Does it really do anyone any good?" I ask him.
"'Does it really do anyone any good?'" Dean scoffs. "You'd be ridding the world of something that would kill others without hesitation," he says.
"Then why have you kept Crowley alive for so long?" I ask him. I guess I'm a little bit brilliant, yes. I love turning situations around on other people so they seem like they're the wrong ones in the situation. It makes life so much more fun.
Dean hesitates before answering. He seems stumped for a few seconds. "That is not related to the conversation at all," he says, although even he doesn't sound like he believes himself. It is completely related to the conversation. I give him a questioning look. "If you really want to know, Crowley's been useful. We actually need him," he admits.
"Then why did you ask about revenge? If I would have said yes, you couldn't have just been like 'okay, too bad,'" I say. I mean, I suppose he could have said that, but that would have just been rude. I mean, putting the prospect of revenge in front of a twelve year old and then taking it away isn't like taking candy from a baby. It's very easy to do, but it's very, very cruel.
"I would have let you do something. I mean, I wouldn't go as far as let you actually kill him yourself, but you would have liked to see him be tortured, right? I'd be happy to do that for you," Dean says, completely serious. He's acting like what he's saying is normal, too. That's not scary or psychotic at all.
My eyes widen with fear. This is probably the first time that I realize that this guys is a killer, not just a nice guy who decided to take care of a troubled little girl. He has killed more things than most serial killers. He has tortured many, many souls and demons. "Well, that's not terrifying at all," I murmur.
Dean just kind of goes quiet for a while. He has no clue what to say, considering he did just offer to torture someone for a twelve year old. It's a really good thing that I'm not impressionable, or Dean would be screwed. Eventually, the silence goes on for long enough. "Son of a bitch. As if I didn't terrify you enough already with beating you to a pulp the first few days you were here," he murmurs to himself.
I object to that particular statement. "You did not beat me to a pulp. I put up a pretty good fight," I say. What can I say? I'm starting to become a Winchester. I'm not going to let Dean tell me that it was easy for him to crush me, or that he even did crush me. I'll admit, I was a terrible fighter at first. But, I'm determined. I got better quickly. I'm still getting better, and I'll eventually become just as good as Dean and his little brother. Maybe even better. And if you say that I'm a girl, and that because of that, I can't be better than Sam or Dean Winchester. Girls are a thousand times more determined than men, which most people don't realize. If men had half of our determination, they would be five hundred times better than they are.
"You're also twelve, Skylar. If I beat you to a pulp, you could call child protective services," Dean says, acting like he easily could if he wanted to. I mean, it is definitely physically possible, but I don't think his conscience would be able to let him seriously injure a twelve year old.
"Why would I want to do that? You're a much better parent than my actual parents were," I say, and start regretting it immediately after I say it. I mean, it's true and all. But, my parents are dead. I should be romanticizing them, not saying what crap they were at being parents. Dean is much better than they ever were, though. I mean, he's a bit of a hard ass and border lining psychopath, but on the inside, he's a big ol' teddy bear. He actually cares about me, despite the fact that he barely knows me. He makes sure that I'm not alone, especially right now. He keeps my mind off the things that make me upset, and he helps me through everything.
The most important thing that makes Dean a better parent than my parents is that he's here for me. That's the one thing that my parents never were. They'd always be gone working, and leave Zack and I with a nanny. Usually it was a different one every month, because Zack and I would pull pranks on them to make them quit. Mary Poppins definitely influenced my childhood-the beginning at least. Zack and I never quite made it to the ending.
"Don't say that, Skylar. They were your parents," Dean says, and takes a huge mouthful of his burger. He seems…almost angry at me for saying that. It's not like I'm offending him, or anything. Well, not unless comparing him to my crap parents offends him.
"There's no point in romanticizing them, just because they're dead," I say, realizing how pointless it really is. Death shouldn't make someone so much better. They were assholes, and death didn't magically change that.
"But they were your parents," Dean says, as if that makes such a big difference.
"I didn't have any parents, other than biologically speaking. Sure, they paid the bills and made sure I was taken care of. But they weren't ever there for me when I needed them," I say. The only reason why I know anything about biology is Tumblr. Tumblr is the reason why I feel like I'm seventeen, and not twelve. Well, that and the whole family dying thing. That definitely aged me a bit, to say the least.
"Give me one instance where you needed them and they weren't there," Dean says. He's barking up the wrong tree. I have so many examples of that, it would blow your brains out.
I don't have to think for very long. I come up with one of the more tragic stories that was quite possibly one of the worst things ever to happen to me before my brother died. "On my tenth birthday, I broke my ankle at softball practice. I had nobody to call, cuz Zack didn't have a cell phone and my nanny was off duty until six. My parents had been in Tokyo for the past two weeks, and weren't scheduled to return for three more weeks. The coaches were idiots who thought that I just jammed my shin, and that nothing was really wrong with me. I mean, it hurt like hell, but I was tough and I didn't think that it would be something as awful as a broken ankle. I basically had to sit there for two hours with my ankle feeling like hell until Zack and my nanny picked me up and realized that I needed to go to the hospital. I spent the rest of the evening in the hospital with my ankle feeling like hell. I had to eat disgusting hospital food for my birthday dinner," I explain.
Before I get a reaction from Dean about how terrible that is, he asks one more question. "How the hell did you break your ankle in a softball practice?"
I would be curious, too, I guess, so I have no trouble answering. "We were practicing sliding for the first time. My foot got caught in the dirt and my ankle just sort of bent backward too far," I explain.
Dean takes a long time to respond, which doesn't really surprise me. I mean, I'm sure that Dean has plenty of terrible things that happened to him as a kid because of his terrible father, so it makes sense that he takes a while to respond. But, in the end, even he has to admit that this sucks. "Wow, that sounds like quite possibly one of the worst birthdays ever," he says. I think that he's going to stop there, and that I'll have my moment. But then Dean brings up something that reminds me that I will never win an argument with the Winchesters. "Of course, Sam died and I sold my soul to bring him back on his birthday, so he wins."
"Damn you Winchesters. Can't I ever just win an argument," I murmur underneath my breath, but I purposefully make it loud enough for Dean to hear me.
Dean decides to bring the conversation back to me, which is a very smart thing to do. "Still, that does suck, and I guess that I see your point." I don't respond, mainly because I don't know what to say to that. 'Yeah' is the only thing that I can think of, and that sounds like something only someone really shallow would say. Luckily, Dean picks the conversation back up. "But you consider me a parent?" he asks.
I shrug. "Well, what else would I consider you to be? I mean, it's not like I'm going to think of you as an older brother, considering you're nineteen years older than me. I guess I could consider you an uncle, but what would be the point in that. Nope, you're a parent to me, considering I'm never going to have anyone better," I explain.
Dean seems to thing that it's a logical explanation, but he's not done asking questions. "What do you consider Sam, then?" he asks me.
What do I consider Sam? God, I have a hard time not sounding like a complete asshole, which is the only reason why I take so long to respond. "Reluctant care-giver," I end up saying. It's the best thing I can say without being harsh and rude.
"And by that you mean a complete asshole," Dean says, completely reading my thoughts. I smile guiltily. "You don't have to be polite, kid. If you have a problem with Sam, you can say so. And, from the way that he's treating you, I don't blame you," he says.
Honestly, I'm a little surprised. From what I've read in the books, Dean and Sam will go to the ends of the earth to defend each other. Now Dean's just like 'oh, if you think he's an asshole, it's okay' It really doesn't make much sense to me. I kind of just give Dean a look of complete shock and confusion as my response.
Dean sighs, annoyed by my reaction to what he said. "Listen, I might go to the ends of the earth to defend my brother, but I have my limits. When he's being a dick to someone who, in no way, deserves it, I can admit that and let that person be mad at him."
That does seem reasonable. "I just don't know what I've done to piss him off. He always seems like he's trying to get away from me. In the books, he was always the nice one. You were always the one who would be rude to strangers," I say, confused by how it ended up being so different.
"I just think he's having a hard time adjusting to you being here. I think part of that is that he honestly thinks you're going to end up dying, as harsh as that sounds. Everybody who we meet ends up dying, and Sam doesn't want to get close to you if that ends up happening," Dean explains. Well, that's not soul crushing at all.
Then I ask something that's been haunting me for quite some time-ever since the demons broke into my house and tried to kill me. "Do you think I'm gonna die?" I ask quietly.
I honestly did not mean to crush Dean's soul at all when I said that. But, what can I say? I'm cursed. The look Dean gives me after I ask that question is heartbreaking. He has so much pity, so much sadness, but at the same time, so much bravery and confidence in that look. "I'm not going to let that happen," he says, completely confident in his answer.
I know that now's not the time to make movie/book references, but I have to. The moment is just too perfect and my reference suits the conversation perfectly. "Four said that to Tris once, and she ended up dead. How can you be so sure of yourself?" I ask him.
Dean surprisingly answers that quickly, which I am not expecting. And, you'd think it would be a good sign, but it isn't. His response isn't exactly reassuring. But, it makes me laugh a little, so it is helpful in one way. "I'm batman," he says.
I roll my eyes, and we continue eating our food. We don't really talk about anything important, mainly because we've already hit all the pressure points and there's no point continuing the conversation. Also, I'm done for the day with important stuff. I just want to try to explain why it is people should ship Dractoria instead of Dramione. Dean has no idea what I'm talking about for the most part, but it still feels good to talk about something that has very little weight to it.
Thanks for reading this chapter. I hope you enjoyed it! I'm sorry it took so long to write, but it is over 2,000 words (not counting the parts where I talk for a long time at the beginning and the end). In this fan fiction, I may end up referring to my other fan fiction, Serpentes et Dracones, often. Sorry, I just can't resist. I apologize in advance if it becomes annoying at all. Also, I have the pleasure of informing you all that I have made a new cover that is a thousand times better than the awful cover that I had before. I have decided that Joey King is the one who would play Skylar if this ever became a movie, which is never going to happen, obviously. I just imagine Skylar to look a lot like Joey, so yeah. Also, the whole incident with Skylar breaking her ankle at softball practice on her birthday is inspired by a true event that happened to me on my twelfth birthday. My dad was an hour away, and my mom couldn't pick me up, either so I did have to wait for some time. The whole bit about the coaches being idiots because I was too tough to think that there was something seriously wrong with my ankle is very true. It's not my fault that I don't cry a ton when my ankle is broken. Luckily, though, I got to go to Disneyland four days later, and I skipped the majority of the lines because I couldn't walk. I suppose there is always a silver lining to everything. And, I didn't have to go to the hospital because my Dad happens to be a surgeon, specializing in feet and ankles, so he knew exactly what was wrong with me the second I came home, and he took care of everything without a single trip to a hospital.