Oh boy friends! We are back!
This chapter is very long. And very intense. And I'm not gonna lie was extremely hard to write at times.
But it's really important context for the next section of the story.
So here we are! Reviews are SO much appreciated. Thanks readers :)
Season 10 Episode 3
"Where are you going?" Sophie's tone didn't leave room to pretend he hadn't heard. Sam stopped.
"I'm going to the hospital to get blood and convince a priest to consecrate it," he explained.
"And you're going to leave me…liable to have a grand mal seizure any second…alone here with my eleven month old child and my demon husband?" Sophie asked, voice dripping with contempt, "Really? That's your plan?"
"You got a better one?" Sam snapped.
"Actually yeah," Sophie said. She pulled out her phone and scrolled through the contact list.
"Who the hell are you calling right now?" Sam asked.
He was so far past the end of his rope. He knew she was too.
"Don't you leave until I come out okay?" Sophie said, she handed him Miriam, dialed the phone, and shut herself in one of the innumerable storage rooms lining the bunker's halls.
She came out ten minutes later, rolling up her sleeve.
"I've got pure blood for you," she replied, reaching out and taking Miriam back into her arms.
"Excuse me?" Sam asked.
"I just called up one of my priest friends and did confession," Sophie said, "I've got pure blood for you."
"You want to donate?" Sam asked. Sophie nodded earnestly.
"He's my husband," Sophie said, "I promised to never forsake him."
"It's gonna be a lot of blood," Sam said, "Are we sure that's safe for you?" "What's a little blood loss to save him?" Sophie offered, "You won't let me die. I know you won't."
Sam nodded his assent.
"But Miriam has to go."
"Sister Margaret is coming to pick her up in ten minutes," Sophie replied, "Already got it covered."
/
"You know…it's not…gonna be him right?" Sam asked once they'd passed Miriam off to the sister. They stood in the hallway outside the storeroom that led to the dungeon.
"I don't have fully formed expectations at this point," Sophie said, "I know this will probably be the worst experience of my life. But…I can't abandon him. Even if he's not himself right now. He wouldn't give up on me. I can't give up on him."
"I know the feeling," Sam said, "So. Ground rules. I don't want him seeing you until we're done."
"Fair enough," Sophie agreed.
"So you're gonna sit on the floor, right here," Sam nudged the molding with the toe of his boot, "I'll come get blood as I need it. And when he's better I'll come get you. Deal?"
He handed her a bottle of water.
"I'll bring you another one every hour," he said, "Make it easy on you if we can. Just don't pass out on me okay?" "Deal," Sophie agreed, sitting down and pushing her sleeve further up her arm, "Go ahead."
"You hate needles don't you?" Sam asked as he pricked her skin and watched her flinch.
"Almost as much as Dean does," Sophie agreed.
/
Somehow, even after all those cases, Sophie had never been punched in the face. She certainly didn't expect the first time to be her husband.
As she sat on the floor, eyes fixed on the baby hat she was knitting in her lap, something caught her attention. Movement in her peripheral vision.
"You're not supposed to be back for another half hour," she said without looking up, assuming it was Sam.
He didn't reply. Footsteps came closer until she was staring at the toes of boots. Dean's boots. This was bad.
"What are you doing out here?" Sophie asked, eyes traveling up to look at his face. Black eyes. Her stomach turned and she fought back the urge to vomit.
He didn't reply, instead bending down to pull her up by the front of her shirt, then punching her hard across the face. The blow dazed her, but didn't knock her out. She expected him to hit her again. But he didn't - instead snaking an arm around her neck. She felt his opposite hand on the back of her head, locking his arms in place. Sophie picked up her feet, grabbing onto his elbow to try and get free. It should've worked. She'd broken that choke on guys bigger than him at the gym. But he was a demon. And crap he was strong. Her vision swam before turning dark.
She woke up tied to the chair in their dungeon.
"What are you doing?" Sophie asked.
Dean didn't reply.
"Why didn't you kill me?" She prodded.
"Oh sweetheart," said a voice that wasn't quite her husband's, "I've got plans for you."
Sweetheart. He called everybody sweetheart. But not her. Baby. Babe. Love. Honey. Never sweetheart.
Sophie fought back a shudder as he bent and pulled back her shirt, kissing along her collar bone. Her mind tied itself into knots. It looked like Dean. His face. His clothes. His hands. But the touch was wrong. The smell was wrong. The voice was wrong.
"I'll be back to play with you once I kill Sam," he said bluntly, grabbing her face and kissing her hard, "You gonna be good or do I have to knock you out so you don't start screaming?" He cracked his knuckles.
"I'll be quiet," Sophie said, "Promise."
/
Sam found her a few minutes later.
"Oh shit," he said, taking in the growing bruise on her cheek, "You okay?"
"I'm fine," Sophie replied, voice hard, "Go find him. Now."
Sam cut the ropes around her wrists.
"Stay hidden?" He suggested.
"You know I will," Sophie replied, "Now fix this."
/
She stood there and let Sam take the last syringe of blood, leaning back against the wall.
She'd insisted on being there, despite Sam's protests that he didn't want her around in case things went south.
"I'm an adult," she'd told him, "This is my call. And I want to be here."
Cas took her side. And Sam backed off eventually.
Dean came around slowly.
"You look worried, fellas," he said as Sam tossed a flask of holy water into his face.
Sophie pushed off the wall and moved to stand behind Cas.
"Who punched my wife in the face?" He asked, eyes finding Sophie.
"Welcome back, Dean," Sam chuckled then moved to cut the ropes around his brother's wrists.
"We'll give you two a minute," Sam said, ushering Cas out ahead of him.
"Sophie?" Dean asked as his brother and the angel departed, closing the storeroom door but leaving the dungeon open.
"You're really back?" She asked tenuously.
"Baby, what happened?" He opened his arms for her.
Baby. Not sweetheart. She relaxed, took a deep breath, then climbed into his lap, forehead pressing against his. He reached up and carded a hand through her hair.
It was his voice again. His mannerisms. His smell. Though the sulfur still clung to his clothes. She'd have to burn those.
"Who hit you?" He asked, pulling back enough to look her in the eye. Fingers gingerly tracing the purple-red bruise on her face.
Sophie swallowed hard.
"You did."
/
Sophie sat on the couch in their room, Miriam squirming passionately in her arms.
"Dada!" The toddler squealed.
"Can I…" Dean trailed off, uncertain.
He and Sam had spent the better part of an hour hashing out everything that had happened. Sophie just sat and watched and waited. But now Sam was off picking up dinner. Miriam was back from the sitter at the convent. And they were alone together, the three of them in their bedroom, silent except for the baby squawking. Just like when it all started…
Dean remembered waking up and finding Miriam was asleep in her bassinet, sucking her thumb, and Sophie out cold in bed beside him, cheeks red and tearstained, hand on his chest. He'd shoved her off and followed Crowley.
Now Sophie just stared, frozen.
"You're allowed to say no," Dean tried to keep his voice steady.
"It wasn't you," Sophie said.
"It wasn't," Dean agreed.
"Come sit by me," Sophie instructed.
Dean raised his hands, palms open, shoulders relaxed, and came to sit beside her.
Sophie took a deep, shuddering breath and passed him the baby.
"Dada!" Miriam squealed.
"She missed you," Sophie said, staring straight ahead, "In the night when she'd wake up, she'd sob every time she realized you weren't there."
"I know it doesn't begin to cover it," Dean replied, "But I'm so sorry Sophie."
"We need a break," Sophie said.
"Whatever you want," Dean promised, "Just say the word and we'll do it."
"We need time off," Sophie repeated, "This was bad, Dean. Worse than when you were in hell. Worse than when you were in purgatory." She shuddered, hand going up to the bruise on her face.
"We need time to heal," Sophie said after a time, "Rebuild trust…"
She trailed off.
"I get that Sam is ready to forgive and forget and act like this didn't happen but…"
"But I abandoned you," Dean said, "And I may not have been me at the time…but…"
"It still hurt," Sophie finished for him.
"And then I punched you in the face, choked you out, and threatened to rape you," Dean tried to keep his tone steady and his face neutral, acutely aware of Miriam watching him as she played in his lap, chewing on the corner of her board book.
"Yeah," Sophie agreed.
/
That night, with Miriam asleep, Dean and Sophie stood side by side at the foot of their bed.
"I can go sleep in the library," Dean offered.
"Don't do that," Sophie's tone had a panicked edge, she reached out and gripped his hand like a vise.
"I know you don't trust me right now…at least not entirely…" Dean began.
"So it's time to start rebuilding," Sophie said, "We move forward or we die, Dean. Those are the only ways I see this ending."
"Okay then," Dean agreed, "Can I try something then? Tell me to stop and I'll go sleep in the car. Promise."
Sophie nodded as he reached down and pulled off his t-shirt, then turned to face her and took them hem of her pajama top.
"You okay?" He asked.
She nodded again.
He pulled her shirt up and off her then led her to the couch.
"No expectations," he said, sitting down and patting he space beside him, "No funny business. Just let me hold you."
Sophie sat down next to him, curling against his chest and appreciating the warmth of his skin against hers.
She took a deep, shuddering breath, pressed her face into his shoulder and started to sob.
"Do you need me to stop?" Dean asked, voice frantic.
"No, no," Sophie choked out, "Please don't go. Please don't leave me again."
"I won't love," Dean murmured, "I promise. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry baby."
Sophie clung to him.
"I still love you," she said, "You know that right? I love you so much."
"I love you too," He whispered, "Can I kiss you?"
"Please."