A/N: TRIGGER WARNING:
1. Suicide (a lot of it. Please call the helplines available if you need help)
2. Rape (implied towards the end)
3. Drugging (like date rape)
4. Stalking
If anyone thinks something else should be included in the trigger warnings please let me know. This chapter is pretty heavy emotionally.
Faith
How Dean and I ended up becoming a monster hunting duo from a monster hunting trio with Sam was beyond me. We worked great together. Both of us shared one brain cell, but that came with its own problems. We had only one brain cell between the two of us and 75% of it came from me. However, it was his 25% that kept us alive. Did that make sense? At least with Sam in between us we had two complete brain cells.
This wasn't going according to the TV series at all. Sam wasn't back to us. He was with Jessica. And I'd found out that Sam had decided to stay with Jessica at her apartment as a base for finding John. 'It's highly likely Dad's still in Cali,' Sam had told me over the phone. 'So I'm gonna stay with Jess for a bit. See what I can find.'
Dean and I had just nodded along and wished him luck. I remembered hearing Dean whisper to Jessica to report to him anything that Sam did. His concern for his brother was truly endearing. But just because he was concerned for his brother didn't mean he stopped loving me any less. He would always remain protectively close to me during a case and shower my newly formed wounds and scars with a million kisses.
The latest case we'd picked up involved the kidnapping of children. And it was being done by a Tulpa. Through a few conversations with the locals, we'd learned that the Tulpa was supposedly weak to electricity.
"Let's kill this son of a bitch before someone changes the story."
"Right on." I prepped my own weapons. "You got the tasers?"
"Amped up to a hundred thousand volts." He passed me mine.
I frowned at the thing in my hands. This was starting to give me more Deja vu than normal. "Ain't that a little too much of an overkill?"
"Yeah, I want this raw head extra frickin' crispy. And remember, you only get one shot with these things. So make it count." The Deja vu was definitely hitting me. But was this one of the episodes? If so, which one? I couldn't remember a single case with electricity and Tulpa. I pushed down the nagging sensation in my head. We would be fine. We always were. Plot armor and all that.
"Aight, bet."
We slowly walked into the abandoned house where the Tulpa supposedly kept kids locked in.
I balanced my hand holding the handgun on the wrist of the other one that held my flashlight.
Dean motioned for me to take the left hallway when we came to a split. I nodded.
"Be careful, sweetheart." He reminded me ever so softly.
I pushed down the blush that was beginning to spread on my cheeks. We had a job here. I heard a creak of the floorboards. Was it the Tulpa? I braced myself and listened more intently for the noises. I whipped around to the cupboard right beside me. Was it in there?
I slowly reached out and snatched the door open. Three terrified children looked up at me.
"Hey," I whispered. "I'm here to get you out of here. Is the thing still here?"
They nodded in fear. "Alright." I handed the eldest boy a spare flashlight and started tugging them out of the cupboard.
They clung onto each other's hands even as they cowered against each other. "Keep holding onto each other okay?" The girl suddenly grabbed my hand and motioned to the third child. I looked down to the youngest one that hadn't stood up. His ankle was twisted the wrong way. Damn. It looked broken. "I'm gonna carry you, alright?" I put my gun away. Getting the kids out of here was first priority, not killing the Tulpa.
I couldn't help but grimace as I lifted the boy up. He may have been the youngest, but he was a large five years old. My arms protested as I carried him all the way to the entrance.
A shrill monstrous shriek had the kids screaming. "Go, go!" I shoved the kids in front of me to go faster. "Out the door!"
"But-" the older boy reached out for his younger brother.
"We'll be out. Just go!" I sped up after them. "AGH!" I was suddenly dragged to the floor by the creature. I kicked and screamed at it, but it wouldn't budge. The boy in my arms had started crying already. "Dean!" I yelled.
I heard the taser being fired, and the monster let go of my foot from shock. I forced myself back on my feet and held the boy tighter against myself. "Let's go." I told the kid, and we ran outside. "Listen up." I told the three kids huddled outside the dilapidated house. "Get to the car. And wait." I grabbed my taser in my pocket. "I'm gonna go back, beat that thing, and then we're gonna get that ankle of yours checked out. Alright?"
The kids nodded. The brother and sister shakily helped their youngest sibling hobble along the dirt path towards Baby. I turned back around to face the house. I had a monster to kill.
I hurried into the house with my taser lifted up, ready to shoot. If we only got one try with each then we would have to come back tomorrow in case I missed.
"Dean?" I called. There was no sign of neither the monster nor my husband. "Dean!" I said a little more loudly.
A noise that sounded like a gunshot came from the basement of the house. I immediately went for the door to the basement and ran down the stairs. There they were. The monster was looming over Dean with its mouth open.
"Sharon, shoot!" He yelled even as he flailed in a puddle of water.
"You're in water, Dean!" I shot the Tulpa with my gun. It flinched but refused to let go of Dean.
"Dammit, I won't be anywhere if you don't kill this thing!"
He was right. So even against my better judgement, I shot the creature. The taser zapped the creature, but it also zapped the man I called my husband with a 100,000 volts.
My heart sank in my stomach when Dean's body shook along with the monster's and went limp.
"Dean…?" I whispered. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. I hadn't just killed my husband. There was no way he was dead. I ran to his side and knelt beside him, not caring if I got muddy moldy water on my favorite pair of jeans. I felt his pulse, it was weak. But I didn't need to do CPR, not yet at least. "Dean. Wake up." I tapped his cheek as much force as I could muster with my shaking hands. No way he was dead. "Come on, Dean." He had to wake up. It wasn't his time to die. "Dean! Dean!"
Carrying Dean up the basement stairs and into the car along with three terrified crying children had been a challenge. But it wasn't even the fact that his whole body weight was on mine or that the kids had been shrieking in my ears, rightfully so with what they'd seen, as I drove the Impala into the emergency room of a nearby hospital. It was the fact that Dean's pulse kept getting weaker and weaker every time I checked.
"Ma'am, I'm so sorry to ask." I looked up at the receptionist. "There doesn't seem to be any insurance on file."
"Right. Right." I fished out my lavender wallet from my pocket. It felt wrong to have something so brightly colored in a hospital when someone close to me was practically in cardiac arrest. I pulled out a card and slid it over to the lady.
"Okay… Mrs. Gale." She said sweetly with a smile.
My mood was quite the opposite. Dean could be dead, and it would be my fault. I'd pulled the trigger on that taser. I'd known it was 100k volts. I'd known it was deadly to a human. And I'd still shot it.
"Officers." I greeted the two cops that had shown up once I'd informed the nurses that the three kids were not, in fact, mine and Dean's children.
"Look, we can finish this up later." They said gently.
"No, it's fine. The faster I get this over with, right?" I tried to smile.
The officers gave me sympathetic looks before continuing. "You said you were in the neighborhood?"
"Uh, yes. Yes. My husband and I were driving through the neighborhood to cut across town. Then we heard screams from the house, children's screams, and we stopped."
"And you found the kids in a closet?"
"Yeah." I nodded. "Some closet in the hallway." It was actually a cupboard, but whatever. I was too tired, too worried to argue semantics with the police.
"Well, thank God you did."
I nodded. I spotted a doctor leaving Dean's room. His coat read his name and then cardiologist under it. "Doctor." I stopped the man in his tracks. "Sorry, excuse me." I bowed to the police officers who nodded in thank you and left. "Doctor, how is he?"
The man's face was blank. "He's resting."
"And?" I was his wife. I had a right to know.
"The electrocution triggered a heart attack." The doctor explained. "Pretty massive. I'm afraid his heart… it's damaged."
No way. It couldn't be. "It's-" 'not time for him to die yet' remained stuck in my throat.
"Ma'am. I'm sorry, but we've done all we can. We can try and keep him comfortable at this point. But I'd give him a couple weeks—"
"No." He wasn't dying. Not so soon.
"Ma'am please." The doctor said calmly. "At most, maybe a month."
"Heart transplant." I told him. "He's a citizen. He's white. He's young. He's male. He's got every racist and sexist advantage known to man and then some. He's young and active— that should shoot him up the list, no?"
"Ma'am." The doctor's voice was thin. "We do not judge based on race or gender-"
"But you sure do give them an advantage don't you?" My statement made no sense. At this point I was picking a fight for no reason. It was a vain effort in trying to get my frustration out. "Sorry. I'm just upset." I told the doctor. "Even if you do put him on the transplant list, there's no way he's getting a heart in two weeks is he?" The doctor shook his head. I felt like crying. "There has to be something." I hated how my voice broke at the end. I had to be strong. I still had to tell Sammy, Bobby, and John. And now Jessica too. "Some clinical trial, or- or— I don't know." I hated begging. But for Dean, I would do anything.
"We can't work miracles. I really am sorry." The doctor said gently. And he left.
Miracles… was this the episode where Dean met with a faith healer? It sure felt like it. Could I… save him? Didn't another man die in order for him to live? Was the sacrifice worth it? Sacrifice. I felt disgusted by my own thoughts. Wouldn't I be the same as the bastards of the town with the scarecrow God?
I shook my head. We would get through this. Surely, a heart transplant couldn't be that hard to get. Someone somewhere in the country must be working for a cure for electrocuted hearts too. They had to be. There was always something going on. I heard something clatter in the hospital room where Dean was resting. I glanced through the door and felt like crying.
Dean, my strong Dean who was always helping people out, was struggling to get a TV remote off the floor. There were tubes and lines hooked up to him. And his bare chest was littered with EKG stickers. And his face was so pale. He'd always had very light skin, but he wasn't white like a sheet. The bags under his eyes contrasted with the paleness of his skin. God, how many sleepless nights had we had, but he'd never looked like this.
I sucked in a breath and exhaled slowly to steady myself. I had to be strong for him. "Need help with that?" I looked at the remote that was on the floor.
"No," he grunted as he attempted to pick it up again.
I couldn't watch him struggle. He had never been this bad. I walked over despite his weak protests– God his voice was so weak– and handed him the remote from the floor. He eyed the offending remote and waved his hand. "Never mind." he looked away.
"Was it the volume?" I sat down on the chair next to the bed. I could barely hear the terrible jokes of the sitcom. "Maybe the channel. I heard one of the nurses talk about a game. Do you boys even watch soccer? Or just baseball. Or maybe football. I don't actually know what games y'all watch."
"Thought we were married." he grumbled.
I forced a smile. "Doesn't mean I have to have your hobbies. Do you know what a half double crochet is?"
"No," he sounded horrified at the mention.
"Exactly." I switched to a sports channel. It was golf. We both hated golf. It was boring and time consuming. It sucked. But it was also the only channel showing anything that would remotely interest Dean.
"Daytime TV is terrible." Dean commented when an ad came on not even two minutes into the game.
"Dean," I prodded. "We need to talk."
He wouldn't even look at me. "That fabric softener teddy bear. Oh, I'm gonna hunt that little bitch down."
"You won't be hunting anything if we don't fix that heart of yours."
"If I hear another death sentence from another hemorrhoids ad I will shoot the TV."
"Dean." I grabbed his hand.
His tired green eyes flickered to mine. "Yeah. All right, well, looks like you're gonna leave town without me."
"Without you?" What was he talking about? "Why would I leave without you? I'm not leaving you here."
"Hey, you better take care of that car." I hated how serious his tone was. "Or, I swear, I'll haunt your pretty ass." Seriously? He was making jokes?
"Stalker much." I wasn't any better than him in that department. "I'm gonna get you out of here."
"Look, Sharon, what can I say, it's a dangerous gig. I drew the short straw. That's it, end of story." not even a sweetheart in the sentence. My real name rolled off his tongue. But for some reason I hated it. I wanted him to call me sweetheart, tell me to dress like a nurse so he could live out a porn fantasy he'd had, try to get me to coddle and feed him while he rotted in bed because he got a rash from a bandaid and the hospital wouldn't let him go until it was resolved.
"It's not the end of story." Not his story. It didn't end here. "You–" I couldn't say the words 'so much to live for'. Apparently that was revealing the future too much for the Angel.
Dean finished my sentence for me. "Have so much to live for?" He gave an empty laugh. I hated that too. "I have nothing."
How. Just how could he say that. "Nothing?" I could feel the stupid tears welling up in my eyes.
"Yeah. nothing. Mom's dead. Dad's missing. Sam ran away. Baby's getting old. What do you think I have left?"
"Me?" I choked on my own voice. "Who am I to you?"
His green eyes met mine. "I've lost too much."
"And– And I haven't?" I rubbed at my eyes as if to squeeze out the water out of them. "Do I mean nothing to you? You would die and leave me alone? What happened to your promises of protecting me? Of taking care of me? Of loving me until death?"
"You don't love me back." he looked away. "All this time, I've been the one saying I love you. I haven't heard that from you. Ever."
That's what all this was about? Me not having the guts to say 'I love you'? Seriously?
"You know what?" I stood up and my chair screeched against the floor. "Fuck you Dean Winchester. Thanks for ruining my life."
I couldn't breathe right even as I slammed the door to his room shut. I shot a text to Sam. 'Dean's dying.' That would have to do. He could have his stupid brother back. I clearly wasn't worth his time to even stay alive.
"Hey," I stood at the entrance to the hospital as Sam and Jessica hopped off my bike.
"How is he?" Sam looked haggard. His eyes were red, but still brimmed with tears.
"Dunno." I hadn't been back to his room since I walked out. I'd watched him through the glass doors, but that was it.
The Doctors kept updating me, but none of it had been good news, only forms for me to sign in case something did happen to him. Someone had even walked up to me asking if Dean was an organ donor. And I'd responded in a manner I never knew I could actually respond in. 'Go fuck yourself' the words had left my mouth before I'd even realised. The man had stammered out an apology before running off.
And now I'd humiliated myself so bad I couldn't even look up in the hospital hallways as I walked from the waiting room to the bathroom. No amount of apologies I gave the staff made the gossip die down. 'The patient in that room? Yeah his wife's crazy.' 'She'll try to kill you if you even suggest he's gonna die.' 'She's in denial, isn't she? Won't even go into the room.' 'I'm tellin' ya. Stay away from her.' But they took good care of him. I could see it in the way they smiled at him. They liked him. Whether for his looks or his charm, they all liked him. And treated him well. That was enough for me.
I took my bike from Sam and put on my helmet. "Wait, you're leaving?" Sam finally noticed the bag on my back. "But Dean's still–"
"I can't." I told him. I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I can't Sam. I'm hurting more people than I can handle."
Jessica looked like she was gonna say something, but Sam stopped her. "Come back whenever." he said gently.
Never, not after what he said. I accepted my helmet and keys from him and started driving off.
The wind howled in my ears even through the helmet and the song booming through my earphones. It nipped and ripped at my legs, but what did it matter. I was pretty sure a rock from earlier had somehow lodged itself in my shoe. That didn't matter either. What did matter was getting away. From this, from everything. I should have known. I couldn't change jackshit about this world. So there was no point in me being here.
Suicide was starting to feel like a very tempting idea. It wasn't like I hadn't contemplated it before. I definitely had. Failed exams had led to one too many crying sessions in the car as I dug my nails into my hands to keep myself from stepping on the gas and running my beloved car into a tree. Failed interviews had even led me to the top floor of the parking structures to try and decide which corner would give me a one way ticket to Hell, but the 'suicide hotline number' on the best corner had stared at me, long enough for me to realise I wasn't gonna give my college the satisfaction of successfully being on the news for a corpse on campus. And when I'd had that argument with my parents about college decisions, I'd tried to stab a scissor into my legs, only to be stopped by the fact that the scissor I'd grabbed was the one we used exclusively for the Gods and Goddesses in the living room, and I would feel guilty if my parents had to buy another one scissor from the dollar store.
Today, however, nothing was stopping me. Nothing was stopping me from driving into oncoming traffic and getting hit by a truck. Maybe running in front of a truck would be more productive.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I didn't even want to check the caller ID, or the innumerous texts that had been blowing it up. What an awesome day to throw a phone in a lake. But I wasn't stupid. Phones were expensive. I took out the SIM card with great difficulty and chucked it into the water. Why were they so tiny?
I pocketed my now useless phone and got back on the bike. I could just start a new life, couldn't I? I'd done it once before, and I could do it again.
"Hey," I looked up when the other bartender walked in for his shift.
"Hey," I spared him a glance and got back to wiping down the counters. I wasn't in the mood to talk. I hadn't been for the past two days.
"Are you working the twelve hour graveyard again?" He put down his bag in the locker room and tied his apron around his waist.
"Yeah," I tossed the rag into the bin to be washed.
"Do you really need the cash or something?" he asked.
He asked too many questions. "Kind of."
"Hey…" His hand suddenly landed on my elbow.
I stiffened and fixed him with a side eye. Was he trying something?
"I just wanted to say… whatever is going on in your life… If you ever want to talk about it, I'll be here."
I tugged my arm away from him. "No thanks."
The look on his face turned bright red as he looked down at the floor. "Sorry. Just thought you might want to talk."
"It's fine." I felt sorry for him. He didn't deserve my attitude. "Sorry, just a lot going on."
"Oh," his face lit up. "That's alright. I don't mind. Sorry for pushing." He gave me a cute dimpled smile and disappeared into the kitchen. "I'll get the glasses."
"Thanks."
I'd once read somewhere that the best way to get over a person was to hook up with another person. And right now, it felt very tempting. But I was never one to act on my intrusive thoughts, no matter how much I wanted to.
"I'm working the shift too." He said happily. "Nice to know someone I know is gonna be working with me."
"Yeah," I turned around to look at the clock. "We open in thirty minutes."
"Cooler's running. I checked the back. We have enough lemons and cherries for the next apocalypse." He had no idea what he was joking about, did he?
"Good." I stretched my back.
"So, I was gonna ask—" He looked at me sheepishly. "Do you maybe wanna grab breakfast once our shift is over? I mean dinner for us. But there's this super nice place just ten minutes away and they have awesome pancakes."
Pancakes sounded delicious. Dean was an expert at making them, and Sammy loved having them for breakfast. Dean, right. I was trying to forget about him. "Do they have avocado toast?"
He grinned. "World's best."
He was a gentleman through and through. He offered me a ride in his car since I'd walked to work, and he held the door open for me when we walked into the cozy little cafe. He'd even pulled me a chair. Was he flirting with me?
I fiddled with the ring that I'd shifted to my right ring finger after I'd left. The engraving on the inside dug into the skin. My left ring finger was skinnier than the right one, so I'd never had this issue before. Dean had been pretty damn accurate with the measuring. Even now I could feel it. Him sliding it onto my finger and me sliding his onto his finger. They'd been rough and calloused, but so tender with love.
"Marisa. Marisa? Are you listening?" I snapped back to reality when the man in front of me called my name. What was his name? I tried to remember. C-something. Christian? Christopher? Just Chris? Cale? I didn't even know the name of the guy I was essentially on a date with.
"Yeah, sorry." I looked down at the table. "Long day- night- what were you saying?"
He gave me an awkward smile. "I was asking about how you ended up in this town." He glanced around. "We're not exactly the largest well known ones."
That was exactly why I was here. This place was out in the boonies. Rundown sheds, rundown buildings, and the motels were so cheap I was renting one for only forty a night. Granted I was staying in the cheapest one. Our bar was the only one left standing and that was due to the huge college student population that rented the cheap apartments here. Obviously the hour-long commute was worth it.
Sharon, not even Sharon Winchester, would ever live in a town like this. She liked big suburban cities. Not whatever this town was.
"This place is cozy." I responded. "I needed a change of pace."
"Are you running away from something?"
"Maybe," I sipped the coffee in front of me. "I need more sugar."
"Here," C whatever passed me one pack. That was not gonna cut it.
"Sorry, gonna need more." I waved down the waitress. "Seven sugars, please."
"Of course." She smiled, and walked away.
"Seven?" C looked at me in shock.
"I usually need five. But these packets are small."
"Wow. I've never seen a woman eat that much sugar." I wasn't sure I liked the way he said that. "Do you work out?" Dean never asked me those kinds of questions. He'd made a snarky comment the first time, but since then he always made sure my coffee had the right amount. The waitress handed me my sugars and I dumped them all into my coffee. C watched me like a hawk. He was probably trying to gauge how much I weighed. Not like I cared. I took a sip of the coffee. I frowned at the taste. My taste buds were probably out of whack as usual.
"Not really." I never went to the gym. No time for gym memberships when hunting. And even when I was at Bobby's, I would much rather spend my free time curled on the window seat with a book in my hands and AirPods in my ears.
"You're being so mysterious." he chuckled.
I shrugged. He didn't even know my real name. "Sorry. It's hard for me to talk about it."
"Bad ex?"
"You could say that." It felt wrong to call Dean my ex. He wasn't. We hadn't formally broken up. But I'd also never formally told him 'I love you' either. Could you break up with someone you never said 'I love you' to?
"Okay…" C looked up when the waitress brought our food over. "So you broke up with your boyfriend but still have a ring from him… come to hide in a random town out in the boonies where you stand out… work at a random bar even though you yourself don't drink…" he laughed. "You're a walking contradiction."
"How did you know the ring's from him?" I covered the silver with my other hand.
"You touch it every time your ex is mentioned."
I chewed the inside of my mouth. "It's complicated. And what do you mean I stand out?"
He smiled. "No one here wears high waisted jeans with their shirts tucked in like that. And you're kind of the most popular bartender in the area right now. Everyone wants to have a drink made by you."
I sighed. "I was trying to not stand out."
"Well, you're too skilled. What can I say?" He looked at my plate. "Not appetising?"
Oh right. Avocado toast. I took a bite of it. I hated how crunchy it was. The sharp crust stabbed the insides of my mouth and it was so damn dry, but I swallowed it. "It's good."
"I know." he dug into his own food. "So what hobbies do you have?"
3rd Person P.O.V.
Sam looked at his phone with rising panic. It had been three days since he'd heard from his sister. Three days since her phone said 'this number is unavailable' no matter how many, or who, or when they called. What the hell had happened? On top of that his brother was making preparations for his funeral. And Dad wasn't responding. And Bobby was too busy trying to find the missing woman.
"Sam, it'll all be okay." he looked up at the only one that was still with him.
"Jess." he wrapped his arms around her. "Jess, it's all wrong. This is all wrong."
"I know." she whispered back. "I'm sorry." She rubbed his back even as his tears soaked her shirt. "We just have to be strong. Your dad is the world's best hunter right? And you said Sharon was good at what she does. I'm sure they'll be okay."
"But- but Dean–"
"We'll figure this out." She held back her own tears as she squeezed him closer. "We'll figure this out together."
"Yeah, a girl like that did walk in. Silver ring on her hand right? Woman wouldn't stop fiddling with it." Bobby glanced up at the store clerk. "She was about this tall though." The man raised his hand up till it was above Bobby's shoulder.
Bobby frowned. Sharon wasn't that tall. She came up to his shoulders, but never past. Unless she was wearing platforms. "What kinda shoes was she wearin'?"
"Shoes?" the clerk squinted as he thought. "I couldn't really tell man. Her jeans were kinda long."
Platform. She was wearing her platforms. So he was looking for a 5'6" woman and not a 5'2". "Thank you for your help." Bobby fixed his trench coat. It could be just any other woman. But then again just how many women rode their bikes in miniskirts.
"Did she commit a murder or something?" the clerk asked.
Bobby tilted his head curiously. "Maybe. Why?"
"She looked like she was gonna kill someone. But surprisingly polite." he shook her head. "I don't believe she committed whatever crime you're trynna arrest her for."
Bobby said nothing to that comment. "Thanks for your time."
He got back in his sedan and started the car back up again. She was being surprisingly sloppy. He had expected her to have at least put on enough makeup so she didn't look like her real age. He also hadn't expected her to make gas station stops right according to her mileage. He sighed. Her emotions were taking over. And normally he would have gotten upset over that, but with what was going on he could hardly blame her. He started driving again, down the road until her 4 gallons of fuel ran out.
"Dean, what the hell did you tell her?" Sam pleaded with his brother again. "She's gone. It's been two weeks."
"She'll do what she wants. She's a grown woman. She can make her own decisions." Dean just said.
Sam shook his head. "But Dean. She wouldn't just run out like that unless something happened."
Dean scoffed. "Well obviously she was sick of a sick husband so she left. What does it matter? Maybe she's living her apple pie life with another man right now."
Realization dawned on Sam. "You made her leave. So she could have a better, normal life."
Dean made no comment on that statement.
Sam wanted to punch his idiot of a brother in the face. The only thing holding him back was the fact that Jessica was sleeping on the couch next to him. If he made a ruckus then he would wake her up. And they were in a hospital.
"She always wanted to play house, Sam. I was the only thing tying her down. This way, she can be free."
Neither of them could believe the words Dean was saying. Sam sighed. "If you got better, would you want her back." He needed to know before he proposed the solution he'd come up with. It didn't matter what Dean said. He would take him to the faith healer no matter what. But he just had to make sure.
"I don't know." He wouldn't look him in the eye
Sam felt like crying at the resignation in his brother's voice. He had completely given up, hadn't he.
"Dean." He said with his voice as stable as he could manage. "I was calling Dad's contacts in his journal."
Dean frowned. "For what?"
"For a way to help you. One of Dad's friends, Joshua, he called me back. Told me about a guy in Nebraska. A specialist."
"You're not gonna let me die in peace, are you?"
"I'm not gonna let you die, period. We're going."
Bobby continued his search. Maybe she hadn't been as sloppy as he'd thought.
"No sir. We have had no women matching that description walk in." The man at the bar shook his head.
Huh. "Then was she about yay high?" He moved his hands down to his chest.
"Yes sir." The man nodded. "Sat right over there." He pointed to a chair in the corner.
"Did she wear a silver ring?"
"Couldn't tell ya that officer. Her sleeves were too long."
What other identifying features did she have? "A mole right by her lips?"
"If you mean a dark dot then yeah. Wouldn't call it a mole though. Looked like she'd drawn it in with blank ink."
"Can you tell me where she was headed?"
"Not really." The man looked outside. "She did get hit on by a couple of guys though. I think she left with them." She would have never done that.
"Do you have their names?"
The next stop he made was at the gym where the three guys supposedly worked out at.
"Nah man, ain't got no clue as to where she went. Hustled us for our money and then left."
"Those some mad pool skills. She called them billiards. Thought she was British. Asked me for directions to the interstate though. Offered ta drop her off for a small fee but she said nah."
"She was hot. Not many women willing to wear miniskirts in this area. And on a bike? Bro she crazy."
That was definitely her. He socked the guys that had tried to make a move on her right in the jaw. "Keep your hands off a defenseless girl next time." Though she was anything but defenseless.
Dean, Sam, and Jessica sat in the tent with the giant words 'The Church of Roy LeGrange. Faith Healer. Witness The Miracle.'
Jessica nodded at the young woman in front of them, who nodded back.
Dean looked around with exaggerated head motions before muttering. "Yeah, peace, love, and trust all over."
Sam followed his gaze to a security camera. He sighed. "Really Dean?"
Jessica grabbed Sam's hand when she felt an argument was about to start between the brothers. "It's starting." she told them.
And a man in sunglasses was helped up onto the stage.
He started talking. "Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news. Never seems good, does it?" the crowd agreed. "Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act."
Sam's eyes darted across the items on the stage. A table with religious symbols. And the woman, Sue Ann he assumed, was wearing an odd looking cross. Whatever, to each their own. All he wanted was his normal brother back.
"But, I say to you, God is watching." Roy continued. The crowd muttered in agreement. "God rewards the good, and He punishes the corrupt." the crowd agreed again, almost in a cult-like manner. "It is the Lord who does the healing here, friends. The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts!"
"Yeah, and their wallets." Dean whispered to Sam.
"You think so, young man?" Dean was startled by the sudden attention brought to him.
"Sorry," he said, almost in a mocking tone. The woman in front of him, and what seemed to be her mother, glared at him.
"No, no. Don't be. Just watch what you say around a blind man, we've got real sharp ears." Roy chuckled. And the crowd did too.
Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat. His tough guy exterior was beginning to crumble. He felt vulnerable. His whole body felt weak. And his support system was in pieces. He had his brother on his right, but his Dad was missing, and so was his wife.
"What's your name, son?" Roy asked.
Dean hesitated. "Dean,"
"Dean." Roy nodded to no one in particular. "I want- I want you to come up here with me."
Dean shook his head. "No, it's okay."
Sam nudged him. "Just do it, Dean. It's worth a shot."
"You've come here to be healed, haven't cha?" Roy motioned for him to join him.
"Well, yeah, but uh… maybe you should just pick someone else."
Sam fixed him with a glare. "What are you doing?!" He hissed.
"Oh, no. I didn't pick you, Dean, the Lord did." Roy raised his unseeing eyes to the sky. "The Lord picked you."
The crowd started cheering for him to go up there. Sam shoved him into the aisle. Dean felt embarrassed. He liked attention, but he wasn't used to this level of attention. His life was meant to be lived in the shadows, with the spotlight on him only in the shadiest of bars and nastiest of motel rooms.
He slowly made his way to the stage and got up.
"Look, no disrespect, but uh, I'm not exactly a believer." he told Roy. Sue Ann stood next to Roy with a warm smile despite his comment.
"You will be, son. You will be."
"Are you sure this is right?" Jessica whispered to Sam.
Sam nodded. "I'll explain later."
"Pray with me, friends." Roy raised his arms to the sky, as did the crowd.
Jessica and Sam awkwardly raised their arms too. Roy's hands went from the sky to holding Dean's shoulder and touching his head. Dean shifted uncomfortably. He didn't like being touched by strangers. What had Sam gotten him into? He looked to Sam, trying to keep his reactions subtle. Sam only gave him an encouraging smile.
"Alright, now." Roy whispered.
Dean's eyes glazed over as his vision grew blurry. His legs buckled under him as the strength left him completely. Suddenly he was losing consciousness. His eyes rolled back and his head hit the floor.
"Dean!" Sam ran up to his brother and Jessica followed.
Sam cradled his brother's head on his lap and Jessica moved to check his pulse. "He's okay." Jessica said with wide eyes.
What the hell had just happened. Sam looked down at his brother who was now slowly starting to wake up. "Dean, say something," he pleaded. He couldn't lose his brother.
Dean gasped as though he was breathing after a long time. "What the hell?"
Bobby pulled out his phone in another attempt at reaching the runaway woman. "The number you have called is unavailable…"
"Balls." he threw the phone into the passenger seat. Where the hell was she?
His eyes snapped to the phone as it rang a moment later. Was she calling him? He hurriedly checked the ID. It was Sam. Was he calling about Dean? Maybe he got a lead on Sharon too.
"Bobby,"
Bobby felt relieved at the happiness in Sam's voice. "Sam. How's Dean?"
"The lead checked out. Dean's fine. Doc said that it's like he never had a heart attack."
"Well, good. Now you idjits get movin'. Her trail stops cold here."
"Actually, Bobby, uh."
He didn't like the sound of that. "What?"
"We think we have a case." Sam's voice dropped low. "Dean thinks there's something wrong with this faith healer. Apparently a guy around Dean's age dropped dead of a heart attack all of a sudden."
"So? Coincidence, right? These things happen."
"No, Bobby. This- this seems to be really weird. The other guy died right about the time Dean was healed."
"Okay. That doesn't sound like a coincidence." He sagged lower in his seat. "I'm assuming you kids want to pursue this case."
"Yeah, I kind of don't want to leave him alone." He heard Sam shuffle on the other side. "I'll call you once this case is over."
"I'm countin' on it."
1st Person P.O.V.
His name turned out to be Christopher. I was almost right in that. I pulled the shutters of the bar down as Christopher wiped down the last of the tables.
"We'll be leaving then!" the waiter and waitress couple waved as they left. Their lips were locked onto each other's before they'd even managed to close the door. The way the man held the woman's hips reminded me of Dean's hand on mine. I could almost feel the warmth seeping in, the memory was that fresh.
"Don't forget to clock out." the manager of the bar said as she hurriedly grabbed her bags. "Sorry to leave you two to close alone."
"No problem." Christopher told her with a smile. "You go take care of your baby."
The manager flashed us a smile. "Thanks." and she too left, leaving me and Christopher alone.
Christopher cleared his throat. "So, um, I was wondering." He looked down at his feet nervously.
Was this it? This was when he asked me out? What was I going to say? 'I'm technically married'? 'Sorry I don't like you'? 'I would love to bang just to make Dean jealous'? 'Let's shag like rabbits so I could get revenge on Dean for telling me I'm not worth living for'? None of them seemed like good answers. Even as my mind raced at a million miles per hour, I wasn't prepared when he finally asked, "I was wondering if you would go out with me."
3rd Person P.O.V.
Jessica couldn't believe her ears. A reaper. Reapers were real. And one of them had just exchanged a man's life for Dean's. What the actual fuck? And even more so, she couldn't believe what Sam was saying.
"Dean, the guy probably would've died anyway. And someone else would've been healed."
This wasn't the Sam she'd fallen in love with. Was he really okay with another man dying for his brother? The love the brothers had for each other was endearing, but this? She swallowed dryly. She kind of understood. She would probably say the same thing if it were Sam instead of Dean instead. But she couldn't bring herself to stomach it.
"You never should've brought me here." Dean said quietly.
"Dean, I was just trying to save your life."
"But, Sam, some guy is dead now because of me."
"I didn't know."
They both had a point. But she had a feeling about who did know about this. She picked up her phone and tried the number again. "The number you are calling–" she snapped the phone shut. Sharon had run away. And this must have been the reason why.
"Sam, I'm gonna go find her." Jessica stood up, grabbing her bags.
"Who?" Sam looked at her pleadingly.
"Sharon. She knew this was going to happen, right? That's why she left. Because she knew this wasn't something she could handle."
"No, leave her alone." Dean's voice held a warning. "She's doing just fine."
"Dean," Sam bristled. "Don't use that tone with Jess."
"Or what?" Dean challenged. "You're gonna kill me? Cause I'm fine with that!"
"Dean, for once in your goddamn life. Just shut up! We're doing this for you! Everything I do, is for you!"
"I never asked for it!"
Jessica couldn't take it anymore. She stepped between the brothers and pushed both their hands down and away from each other's throats. "Enough! Let's just finish this case! And then we can worry about everything else. Innocent people are dying!"
Sam and Dean glared at each other. Jessica was right. They had people to save.
1st Person P.O.V.
"Look, Christopher. I know you're a great guy, and all that, but–"
"I knew it." Christopher's eyes were downturned. "You don't feel the same way."
"I'm sorry." I whispered. He looked so sad it hurt. But this was for his own good. "I can't love you."
"Am I being friendzoned?" he laughed dryly. "That's fine, by the way." he held a hand up. "It's fine. I was prepared for you to say no."
I nodded. "Sorry."
"If you want to apologize. Tell me something."
"What?"
"Why did you leave your ex?"
3rd Person P.O.V.
"You really think it's THE Grim Reaper? Like, angel of death, collect your soul, the whole deal?" Sam leaned forwards, almost in shock.
"No no no, not THE reaper, a reaper." Dean corrected. "There's reaper law in pretty much every culture on earth, it goes by 100 different names, it's possible that there's more than one of them."
"Wow," Jessica listened breathlessly. "Reapers. We're gonna kill a reaper? But we can't even see them. Actually, how do you know it even was a reaper?"
"You said it yourself that the clock stopped right? Reapers stop time." Dean explained. "And you can only see 'em when they're coming at you which is why I could see it and you couldn't."
"Maybe." Sam sounded a little skeptical.
"There's nothing else it could be Sam. The question is how is Roy controlling the damn thing?"
"That cross." Sam chimed.
"What?" Dean raised an eyebrow.
"Oh, that cross." Jessica pulled out a stack of papers. "It was in here somewhere…" She pulled out a tarot card.
"A Tarot?"
Sam's eyes lit up as he connected the dots. "It makes sense. A tarot dates back to the early christian era right, when some priests were still using magic? And a few of them veered into the dark stuff? Necromancy and how to push death away, how to cause it?"
"So Roy's using black magic to bind the reaper?" Dean summarised.
"If he is, he's riding the whirlwind. It's like putting a dog leash on a great white." Sam shook his head.
"Ok then we stop Roy." Dean stood up.
"How?" Jessica asked.
"You know how." Dean turned away from them to put his cup in the sink.
"Wait, what the hell are you talking about Dean, we can't kill Roy." Sam frowned. Jessica nodded along.
"Sam the guys playing God, he's deciding who lives and who dies. That's a monster in my book."
"We can't just kill a human being." Jessica stepped in. "We do that, we're no better than he is."
"Ok, we can't kill Roy, we can't kill death. Any bright ideas, college kids?"
Sam racked his brain for a nonviolent solution. "Ok. Uh… If Roy's using some kind of black spell on the reaper, we gotta… figure out what it is. And how to break it."
1st Person P.O.V.
"I don't know if I truly love him." I grabbed my small purse. "I don't exactly love the way people normally do."
"Meaning?"
"I just don't feel the same. I don't know how to explain it. Like I can't say 'I love you' to the person I love the most."
"It's just three words. He dumped you for that?"
Well I ran away, but I wasn't going to explain that. "Three words that mattered a lot to him. And I guess I couldn't say them. It's fine. Life's great."
"I can't make you change your mind?" He asked gently.
Not really. I wanted his arms around me again, to warm me up in that cold motel bedroom. I missed him. I'd thought that if I could just get away from him for a while, I would be fine. But no, as the days went by, I longed to see the glint of silver on his left ring finger as much as the silver of mine blinded me at the right angle. I missed the way he would bake pancakes on one of the portable stoves we'd gotten so we could make ourselves a slightly homemade meal when we weren't working a case. The damn tears were welling up in my eyes again.
"Sorry, I'm gonna go."
I grabbed my bag and left. The wind was angry as it whipped my loose hair all over my face. I spat out the strands in my mouth and ran my way into my motel room. I slammed the door shut and sank down to the floor. I missed him. Was he even alive? I shouldn't have thrown away that SIM card. Maybe I should have brought more than one phone. I regretted everything. Had he died without me ever being able to give him a proper goodbye? Were the last words I'd said to him really just 'fuck you'?
I stared at the empty single bed in the room. It was made haphazardly by the motel staff, and the pillows had yellow stains I tried to not think about. What difference did it make if I went to bed? It wasn't like Dean was going to make the other sink impossibly low and gravity would send me rolling against his chest. Not even Sam was there to keep me company and debate about Harry Potter all night long.
What did it even matter? It was a miracle I hadn't ended my life yet. But it wasn't worth it. I wasn't going to let the world have the satisfaction of me killing myself. I was stronger than that. This shit sucked. But it was fine. I was always fine.
3rd Person P.O.V.
"Another break in?" Jessica whispered as she jumped over the window sill.
"Kind of what we do." Sam grinned at her.
Jessica shook her head. "This is crazy." But she had a smile on her face that said otherwise.
She started looking around the house along with Sam. They made their way to the living room where there was a surprisingly large collection of books.
"Sam," she grabbed his sleeve. "This book."
It was the only one without dust. He grabbed the book and slid it out of its place. He peered into the empty cavity and realised there was a tinier book in the back. "There's something there." He attempted to force his hand into the gap, but he was too large.
"Let me." Jessica nudged him aside to stick her hand inside and managed to grab the book with two fingers. With great care she got it out, and the two of them flipped through it. "Oh my God,"
Sam spread out the pictures in the book, no, journal, to see them more clearly. "Marshall Hall was gay, the woman that died last night was an abortion rights advocate. And this-" it was the guy that was protesting outside the tent.
"We have to tell Dean."
"Yeah," Sam was already calling him. "Roy's choosing victims he sees as immoral. And I think I know who's next on his list. Remember that protestor?" He grabbed Jessica's hand and tugged her out of the house. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll find him. But you can't let Roy heal anyone, alright?"
Bobby was getting ready to give up. Sharon had started changing her appearance a little more often and now he was stumped. It had been a little over two weeks since she'd left, and she really didn't want to be found. He went over the many disguises she'd used over the course of the past near decade. Goth girl, preppy girl, librarian, pilot, FBI agent, crazy drug addict, she'd done it all. He was pretty sure there was a blue and yellow gown in her closet somewhere that she'd worn to sneak into Disney World as Snow White for a case.
"Hi," a small voice chimed.
He turned around towards the voice. It was a young boy. The kid continued speaking. "You were looking for a girl right?"
"Right. Have you seen her?"
"First of all, are you actually a cop?" the kid's eyes were narrowed.
He debated. "No," he went with that. He had to earn the kid's trust if the kid knew something. "She's my daughter." the word felt weird in his mouth. "She went missing a few weeks ago."
"I saw someone on a bike." the kid said. "She in trouble?"
"No. Not legal trouble. Not with the cops or FBI or CIA."
"She's gonna get an ass whooping when she gets back right?" the kid cracked a smile. "I saw her at the thrift store over there." he pointed him in a direction. "She bought me new clothes, gave me a shower in her room."
Sounded like her. "Did she say where she was going?"
"No, sir. But she had me repaint her bike in return. Not worth the clothes and the shower. But it helped me, not her. So I took the deal."
"What color?"
"Green. A snazzy neon green."
Snazzy? Bobby took a mental note to look up the word later. "Anything else?"
"Spray painted her license plate too."
Bingo. "What are the new numbers?"
"It's gonna cost ya." the kid smirked.
Bobby rolled his eyes but pulled out a twenty.
The kid cheered as he rattled off the license plate number. "Thanks sir."
"Thanks to you too, kid."
"Hope ya find her. She was a real good girl."
He bet she was.
"Layla, listen to me. You can't go up there." Dean said as he grabbed the woman's arm. He felt guilty for saying that. He'd been saved by Roy, but he couldn't even let this one other woman be saved. 'Why do you deserve to live more than my daughter?' The words of Layla's mother rang in his head. He didn't know. Why did he? Sam wouldn't let him die, Sharon wouldn't let him die. And now apparently some evil guy also wouldn't let him die.
"I don't understand, Roy healed you didn't he? Why can't you let him try?" The woman in his hands looked confused.
"Cause if you do something bad is going to happen. I can't explain. I just need you to believe me." He pleaded with her through his eyes. She couldn't do it. He wasn't going to let another innocent person die.
"Layla." Sue Ann called.
"Please." Dean tried again. Would she listen?
Layla shook her head. "I'm sorry."
Of course, it was never that easy. Good women were never that easy.
"I knew the Lord was planning. I knew it was just a matter of time." Roy said with a smile.
Dean simply watched silently. This was all wrong.
"Pray with me, friends." Roy was doing his thing again, touching Layla's shoulder and head. "I hope you're ready."
He couldn't watch this. Dean walked out of the tent and yelled in a higher pitch than his usual voice. "FIRE! Hurry, tent's on fire!" He watched as people ran out of the tent. His eyes fell on Layla and her mom sobbing hysterically on the ground. It sucked. But it had to be done. The right thing had to be done. He called Sam. "I did it, I stopped Roy."
Sam was facing a different situation, however. "Dean it didn't reaper's still coming!"
He could hear Sam running and another man on the other side yelling. Jessica was yelling out words of comfort, but they did little to soothe any of the men's nerves.
"I'm telling you, I'm telling you it didn't work. Roy must not be the one controlling this thing." Sam said in between breaths.
Dean's eyes fell on the woman chanting some weird prayer with her weird cross clenched in her hands. "Sue Ann." He grabbed her and pinned her to the tent walls.
"Help! Help me!" she shrieked.
Dean almost rolled his eyes. Of course that was the trick she was going to use. He almost laughed when two cops forced his hands behind him. Of course. Of course this happened. Women were such fickle creatures. Everyone trusted a woman.
"I just don't understand. After everything we've done for you. After Roy healed you. I'm just very, very disappointed Dean." He wanted to laugh in her face at her acting. "You can let him go. I'm not gonna press charges. The Lord will deal with him as he sees fit."
"We catch you round here again son, we'll put the fear of God in you, understand?" the cop holding him said.
"Yes sir, fear of god. Got it." Dean drawled.
The cops gave him one final shove and he was face to face with Layla who looked betrayed. Her expression reminded him of Sharon's, when he'd told her those words, when he'd pushed her away. He'd hoped she would live a better life without him. But now he was starting to regret those being his final words.
"Why would you do that Dean? And it could have been my only chance." Layla whispered.
"He's not a healer." He said simply.
"He healed you."
"I know it doesn't seem fair, and I wish I could explain. But Roy is not the answer, I'm sorry."
Layla shook her head sadly. "Goodbye, Dean. I wish you luck. I really do."
Those were the words he'd wanted to hear from Sharon when she'd left. Hell, she'd cursed at him before she'd left. And honestly? He'd deserved it.
"Same to you," he said. "You deserve it a lot more than me."
He wished he'd told his wife that instead.
"Where's Sue Ann?" Dean asked as the three of them peered into the tent.
"House." Sam said, spotting her as she walked towards the house.
"Wait, Dean." Jessica cried when Dean disappeared. "Where are you going?"
"You two go ahead. I'll catch up."
"What are you–" Sam started but he was pushed away by Dean.
"Hey! You gonna put that fear of God in me?!" Dean yelled and took off. Sam and Jessica pressed themselves against a wall as two cops ran past them.
"Let's go." Sam whispered to Jessica and they headed towards the house.
"Basement." Jessica pointed to the stream of light coming out of the outside basement entrance. "Are we going in?"
Sam put away his flashlight. "Yeah." he pulled the doors open and waited for Jessica to safely get inside. "Let me know if you find anything."
"What am I looking for?"
"Ritualistic things. It'll be obvious." Sam said and walked to one side of the room. Jessica took the other side. They kept walking until they got through a narrow hallway to another room.
"Like that?" Jessica whispered in horror. There were dead animals everywhere, candles lit, and odd symbols drawn everywhere. In the middle of it all was a picture of Dean, and it had been crossed out in what looked like blood.
"I gave your brother life and I can take it away." came the sudden voice of Sue Ann. "Sam, Jessica, can't you see? The Lord chose me to reward the just and punish the wicked. And your brother is wicked and he deserves to die just as Layla deserves to live. It is God's will."
"The altar! Destroy the altar!" Sam yelled to Jessica as he ran after Sue Ann.
Dean stopped in his tracks when the lights on the road he was running on started to go out. One by one. The police were no longer behind him. And it seemed like time had stopped. The trees no longer rustled in the wind, and the chirping of the crickets had gone silent. He knew what was coming. The reaper. He was going to die.
In the Church, Roy had begun his 'miracle session' again. He placed a hand on Layla's head and shoulder and started praying. Layla's mom prayed through her sobs and raised her hands up high.
Jessica smashed the altar as much as she could. She threw the animal carcasses off the table and threw Dean's crossed out picture into the fire. She destroyed as many objects on it as she could. Would that be enough? Or should she break more? Her eyes landed on a hammer in the corner. She picked it up and clenched it tight. Just how many times did she ever get to smash her frustrations out? She swung down with all her might.
Sam raced after Sue Ann. She was chanting something in Latin even as she fled towards the tent, clutching her cross like her life depended on it.
Dean sank down to his knees in front of the reaper as his body convulsed. This was what he got for his actions as of late. He closed his eyes as he waited for sweet death to take him over. But he had regrets, so many of them. He snapped his eyes open and glared at the reaper with all the strength he had left.
Sam grabbed Sue Ann by the shoulder, forced her around and slammed her into the ground. He snatched the cross from her and dug his boots into it as hard as he could. With a resounding crack, the wood broke into pieces. Sue Ann gave a loud shriek. "He's here! No! Please!" and her body fell limp.
Dean looked up as the reaper walked away from him. He fell back on his arms and took deep breaths to calm his beating heart. He had been so close to death. And even though he thought he wanted it, he clearly didn't. His green eyes drifted to the ring on his finger. He had things to do.
"I don't understand…" Roy looked around in a panic.
"I don't… feel any different…?" Layla's voice trembled. She looked at Roy who was moving his head around. "Reverend?"
"Sue Ann?"
"Sue Ann's dead." Sam told Jessica and Dean when the three of them gathered at the motel room.
"The reverend?" Dean asked.
"He's fine." Sam nodded.
"What about you, Dean? Are you alright?" Jessica looked worriedly at the older Winchester.
"Yeah, I'm fine." He rolled the ring around his finger. The silver felt cold on his skin. "There's something I need to do."
"Bobby's closing in on her." Sam passed his phone to him. "You wanna go check up on her?"
Dean's lips parted as he debated. "If she doesn't have a better life, I'll bring her back."
"She's gonna wanna come back." Jessica said firmly. "I know it. The way she looks when she's with you two versus when she's alone. You guys should definitely bring her back."
"What about you?" Dean asked her.
Jessica shrugged. "Go back to my job, I guess. I told my boss I had a family emergency, which it was."
"I'll drop you off." Sam put his arm around her waist.
Dean rolled his eyes at the act and walked away. "I'm gonna take a leak."
Jessica smiled at the offer. "Thanks, but shouldn't you be with Dean?"
Sam leaned down to bump his forehead against hers. "I think this is something Dean needs to do on his own."
1st Person P.O.V.
I was being followed. I just knew I was. There was this constant sense of dread in my stomach. Who was it? Someone from work? Someone from the coffee shop I'd started to frequent? Someone from the motel?
I locked the door behind me as I left the room. It was a Wednesday. I had Wednesdays off. Time to do laundry and maybe figure out what to do next with my life. Over the past two, now pushing three, weeks I'd made enough money to make another trip cross country. I didn't know where I would end up, but I would end up somewhere. I made my third and final trip to the laundromat across the street from the motel. I put the clothes into the washing machine and waited.
This was the worst part. Waiting for one cycle to finish. And there was still that feeling in my stomach. Like something was going to go horribly wrong. I leaned against the chair so the handle of my gun would dig into my back. It was uncomfortable, yet comforting. This being a small town meant no CCTV cameras unless it was the bank or the post office or the local Church. So I couldn't even hack into the cameras to find out who it was.
I jumped when the door to the place opened. I gripped the gun in my pocket as the shadow got closer and closer, until Christopher showed up around the corner.
"It's you." I relaxed in relief. "I almost thought you were a murderer." Christopher smiled, but there was something wrong. His eyes, they weren't smiling. "Christopher? Is something wrong?"
"Do you still love him?"
I didn't like the tone he was using. "What're you talking about?"
"Him." he jerked his head. "You still like him. Dean Winchester."
How did he know his name? "How do you–" I was suddenly staring down the barrel of a gun. Shit. I should have known. Of course it was him. He was the only one I'd talked to enough to even have interested in me.
"Answer me." he stepped closer.
My fingers curled around the coldness of my gun. "I don't." I lied.
He shook his head, seeing through the obvious lie. "Then why do you wear that ring?"
"It's expensive. I can sell it for a good price."
"If you didn't love him, you would keep it in your bag. But you wear that all the time. So tell me, sweetheart." My blood ran cold at the nickname. That had to be a coincidence right?
"How do you even know his name?" I demanded. What the hell could I do? Use my powers?
"It was on the inside of that ring. You shouldn't accept food from others. Not even sugar packets." He smiled so creepily. "They knocked you out every day." The funny tasting coffee. It wasn't just my taste buds. "And the motel employees don't care." He jingled a pair of keys in front of my face, his hand holding the gun never even flinching. "I took a good long look at you, all day long."
Fuck. I felt sick. I wanted to hurl. I should have known. If he'd taken the ring off my finger then what else had he done?
"You look lovely without clothes, you know. But you should maybe invest in some lingerie. I bet you would look good in them." He continued talking.
No. No way. I'd locked all my doors, all my windows, salted everything, checked for hidden cameras every single night. And yet, this lunatic had– I could feel bile rising in my throat. The world was spinning and the grip on my gun was loosening. I gripped the wall as I lost the strength in my legs. What the hell. What had he done to me. To make me defenseless. His gun lowered along with my head. He was still talking. "And baby girl you look so hot when your ass is popped out on that bike…" Disgusting. This bastard was disgusting. Tears stung my eyes and my vision grew even blurrier than before.
'Breathe, sweetheart. Breathe' I could hear Dean's voice as clear as day in my head. Breathe. That's right. Breathe. 'If the world is spinning, then focus on something. It helps me.' Sam had said that to me years ago when I'd completely panicked in front of my first Wendigo ever. 'In, two, three. Out, two, three. In, two, three. Out, two, three.' Bobby had taught me that when I'd had a nightmare after my first actual vampire kill. 'Eyes always on the target. Never look away. Don't give it the advantage. Hands on weapons.' And that advice had come from John. John Winchester, the greatest of our time.
"So you see, since I love you so much. Like, so much. But I can't have you ever. Your heart belongs to that guy. So I thought if I can't have you, then no one can."
I breathed, even as Christopher rambled on and on. The white noise in my ears drowned out his rant. He obviously didn't think I was enough of a threat right now. The hold on his gun was loosening. I focused on the gun that was now resting significantly looser in his hands. In, two, three. Out, two, three. In, two, three. Out, two, three.
"… Once I'm done fucking your brains out…" Psychopath. He was a psychopath. "…I really wanna bury you in a red babydoll. Kind of sexy you know." What the fuck? He was eons passed psychopath. "Then I'll go find this Dean Winchester bitch and make him–"
He never finished that sentence. My hands trembled as the bullet sank into the shoulder holding the gun. He screamed in pain. "BITCH!"
Well, this bitch was booking it out. I kicked the gun out of his reach and stomped as hard as I could into his shoulder. His screams sounded like music to my ears right now. But I had to get out. I didn't bother grabbing my clothes even as the machine beeped that my cycle was over. I had to get to safety. Police station. Where was the nearest police station. My brain was blank as I looked left and right. Curse my incapability with directions. I chose a random direction. Only to be pulled back.
I screamed and thrashed against the person holding me.
"Son of a bitch!" I heard the person grunt when I landed a punch. I knew that voice.
I hadn't heard that voice in nearly a month, but I remembered it so well. Dean. "Dean." I whispered. Was I hallucinating? I must have gone crazy.
"Yeah, yeah. It's me." he wiped the blood from his bloody lip. "I heard a gunshot and then a scream. And then I found you running out like a madwoman. Are you okay?" He was pulling out his own gun.
Was I? Physically yeah. I wasn't hurt or anything. I nodded. "I'm fine."
"Your face says otherwise."
Right. I could taste the salty liquid running down my face. "There's a guy–" my voice cracked. "He has a gun."
"What'd he do to you?" Dean's green eyes flashed with anger.
I gripped his jacket. "Please." I couldn't talk about it, not right now. Not when he was stumbling out the doors looking like a zombie. His blond floofy curly hair was now matted red with drying blood and his white T shirt that clung to his toned chest was dyed completely red. I felt dizzy. Like I would collapse. The only thing keeping me standing was my hold on Dean's jacket.
"You must be that Dean." Christopher cackled. "You don't want her back. She's a ruined bitch! You don't know what I did to her!"
Ruined? What he did to me? I felt exposed, dirty, disgusting, worthless.
"I'll decide if I want her." another shot rang out. And then he screamed. "Come on, sweetheart."
Dean turned around and started pulling me with him. "Dean? What did you do to him?" I turned around to see him bleeding out from his leg onto the concrete sidewalk. "Did you kill him?"
"He's not dead, and it was self defense."
As if on cue Christopher screamed bloody murder.
"Don't listen to him. You're with me now. You're safe." Dean's grip was tight around my wrist. "Are you staying at a motel?"
"Yeah,"
"Which one?"
"Mariposa Nights."
He cringed at the name. "Seriously?"
"It was the cheapest."
He shrugged and kept pulling me along. "Come on. I parked there next to your bike. Let's hurry up. Do you need to pack?"
"No, I was gonna leave today. How did you even find me? Wait, hang on. Are you okay? You know with the heart and all that."
"Bobby did. He did most of the work. And yeah, I'm fine. We got it fixed. Faith healer."
"Right. Reaper?"
"Reaper." He pretty much kicked the door to my room open and walked in to grab my bags. "You knew about it?"
"Yeah."
He cursed under his breath. "'Course you did."
"I'm sorry. I got emotional. It was stupid. But I knew Sam could figure it out. But still. I'm sorry."
"Me too." he grabbed my duffel bag and walked towards my bike. "That color is hideous."
"I know."
"It sure threw us off your trail." he knelt down to start detaching the wheels.
"Hey!" I protested.
"What? She won't fit in Baby unless I take the wheels off."
"Who died and made you boss? Surely she'll fit."
Dean cocked an eyebrow up. "Really?"
I looked down sheepishly. "No."
"Exactly."
"Dean. Do you really want me back?"
"What does that have to do with anything?" He watched me carefully. "The question is do you want to come back? After what I said?"
"Maybe. Did you mean what you said?"
"About the 'I love you' stuff?" He looked guilty. "No. You'd told me since day one you couldn't have a normal relationship. That this love stuff doesn't make sense to you. I'm the one that decided to be okay with it. So, no. I thought I would give you a shot at a normal life. But… you have terrible taste in guys." He cracked a smile. "Come on, let's go home."
"We're not gonna ask about… what he said…?" Did he hate me? As much as I hated myself right now?
Dean stood back up and lowered his head to rest our foreheads together. "When you're ready." He nudged my nose with his to tilt my head back upward. "Can I?"
I nodded against his head. And his lips covered mine. They were soft, so soft. His arms were around me, holding me up as the waterworks started.
"You're okay, sweetheart." How I'd missed that nickname. "You're safe." he kissed me again. "I love you."
I opened my eyes to see his green ones looking softly into mine. "Dean, I–"
"Shh," he whispered. "Take your time. Take all the time you need. I'll be right here. And I'm not letting go this time."
A/N: Had not expected this to be so long. 12k pushing 13k words? With an exam tomorrow and day after tomorrow that I haven't studied for? YES. Also I managed to ignore hot guy for the whole duration of class until he opened his pretty mouth and talked with his beautiful voice and then we did the little 'left? right? no you're going right? wait left?' thing and he said 'sorry' so I flipping ran away, and those are the only words he's spoken to me directly and I'm dying. Send help. Anyways, there are several loose ends in this chap that I will be trying to tie in the next few ones. I'll be doing my best. :)