And Die In Thee - 4/7
And Die In Thee - 4/7
4,311/26,000 R, Het
Right doesn’t ever count the cost. Should it?
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
Part 4
Dean was still trying to come up with a plan when Annie came to. He just wished he’d drugged her to give himself some more time. Maybe I should have drugged myself instead.
‘How do you feel?’ he asked, careful to keep his distance.
‘Like a cement truck ran over me,’ she said in confusion as she pushed herself back up against the headboard.
Salt truck. ‘There’s more you need … have … to know,’ Dean said with determination. Just do it! ‘Remember we told you that we kill monsters and that our father was hunting some in Phoenix?’
‘I wish I didn’t remember that,’ she said bitterly. She wasn’t trying to run away this time. She was sitting there, taking it. She was even tougher than she’d been trying to pretend to be.
‘Well, he found one of the ones that killed all those men. And he killed her,’ Dean said. Don’t make me say it. How do you tell someone that her mother is dead? You never get over that. How do you say that your father did it? Oh, and by the way, your mother was a monster. And you are too. ‘He killed her last month. He … it … we know now that it was your mother,’ he finished unswervingly, refusing to look away from the shock on her face.
He’d known that telling her would be the hardest part. Known it in his guts the same way he knew that protecting his brother was his sole reason for living. That without his family he was lost, he was nothing. Why won’t she say anything? Please, God. Say something! Now he knew that he was wrong. Watching her pain was worse. Watching her take it in, unblinking acceptance of what he said. Having her believe that his family could do such a thing. Could do? Had done. Having her know that we did such a terrible thing to her mother and family. Finish it!
‘She was a demon, a succubus. She, and I guess, her sister too, killed all those men. So he had to stop her, to kill her. He had to end it.’
No acceptance there now. Annie’s eyes were blazing with anger, fear and … disbelief? Keep going! Dean cut her off as she opened her mouth in angry protest. ‘Your mother was a monster. My father killed her to save people. It’s what he does. What we all have to do. Somebody’s got to fight!’
Annie was up on her knees now, hands fisted, glaring at him, shaking and almost white with the effort not to hit him; fight him physically, in the way she couldn’t do battle with his words - his truth.
‘My mother isn’t … a monster! She’s my Mom.’
Annie’s voice broke on the present tense, and the sound of it sliced deep into him. He was taking everything away from her, stripping her bare of the memories she thought she had of her life; refusing to allow her even the short-term mercy of hope. His father had never told him it was like this. Dean would rather have faced a thousand demons then than the fragile figure of Annie, crumbling in front of him. Because of him. Them. Winchesters never got to see any happy ever afters.
Dean forced himself to remember that Annie was only the latest victim in all this, Phoenix was full of them; Wickenburg was just the end of this particular hunt. The end? Not quite. He wanted to reach out; hold her, protect her, and tell her it was all going to be better in the morning. But Dean wasn’t that good at lying yet. Or at softening the truth as it turned out. He picked up the folder off the bedside table and shoved the photographs of the bodies in front of her. ‘Look at them! She might have been your mother, but that doesn’t make what she was, or what she did right. What about all these people? She and your aunt killed them without thought, and they took pleasure in it; they lived for it. Remember that you told us she said, “Give in temptation and enjoy it?” Was that right? Their nightlife? Literally sucking the life out of men? Killing them?’ Dean let the faces of the dead fall. In a sudden all-consuming rage every death he’d seen or even heard about was one formless, uncontainable, mass of grief. His own mother was merely the foremost figure, and most painful memory, the death that everything else was sharpened on.
Annie’s breath punched out of her in a sob. ‘No …’
Dean wasn’t listening anymore. He couldn’t see.
‘Dean?’ Small hands on his shoulders, soft.
‘Wh…’ Dean blinked stinging eyes at her. He needed to be able to see. To be able to react and handle anything that happened. What he couldn’t deal with was Annie cradling him, trying to soothe his pain.
Dean had an excellent sense of time, all his father’s training had seen to that. But for once it failed him. He had no idea how long he and Annie held each other, touching first in mutual comfort, and then with growing passion. It was only when she flinched for the second time in pain as his amulet bit again into her breast, that a glimmer of common sense broke through the single-minded fervour. After a minute Dean wished it hadn’t. His hand gentled over the tiny scratch, just barely stopping himself from kissing it, and tasting her pain before he set Annie firmly back against the pillows and moved further away on the now all-too small bed.
Goddamn chicks, always with the emotion. Fucking contagious they were.
Dean pushed himself off the bed, and stood against the wall, trying not to feel like a trapped animal. The only place he wanted to be was back in her embrace; but the place he needed to be was with Sammy, far away from anything that could possibly harm his brother. And this? No way was this situation going to end well. Whatever happened Sammy was going to get hurt. Part of Dean was trying to ask “what about me?” but he was used to blocking that out, even without his usual aid.
‘Dean?’ Annie’s voice sounded lost, yearning, and much too tempting.
How had she gotten so damned good at this so fast? He would have sworn she’d had even less practice at this whole thing than he had. Hell, after those first frantic minutes it had been him leading the way, instinct and some secret late-night channel surfing for porn showing him where to go if not exactly helping him get there gracefully. He thumped his head back against the wall. It didn’t help any other part of his anatomy. ‘No, we can’t do this, Annie.’
‘I need you, Dean. Don’t leave me alone, please?’
It was a whisper that slid right through him. That simple plea just reminded him of all the ways his body knew it wanted her. Dean pulled his talisman out of his pocket, gripped it hard in his right hand, and made himself look straight at her again.
Annie’s face was flushed, eyes dark with passion, clothes even more dishevelled than his own, and she was breathing like she’d just finished a marathon. So not like those perfect perky blonde cheerleaders he’d been lusting after and laying plans around. Now, this half-human waif was the only thing his body - he - wanted. But he’d had a lifetime of wanting what he couldn’t have. He’d always let everything go, for Sammy and his father. He could give this up too.
That small smear of blood, the hurt on her face, the pain in her voice - that please; he couldn’t let any of that touch him. What shouldn’t have come so close to breaking him was that same shared sense of loss and grief that reached out to him so strongly. I can’t.
In the end, as always, it was his brother that gave him strength. Sammy. It was enough, for now. Just.
~~~
They were finally back where they started. Both of them safely - huh! - separated by the few feet of space between the bed and his friend the wall; now fully dressed and doing their best to pretend that things like this happened every day. You tell a girl her mother was a monster and your father had to kill her. Then she went and got all emo and weepy, so naturally one thing led to another and they ended up almost humping on the bed like rabbits. Just your average, ordinary, day as a teenager.
Dean hated himself, but he did it anyway. There was more to say, whether Annie wanted to hear it or not. He had to show how very far from ordinary everything was. ‘Your mother’s dead. And I know you don’t want to believe what she was. But you have to, because it isn’t over. You’re still alive. Our father is still out there, hunting, for you now. When Sammy and I went looking for you; Dad had been at your house, asking about you. He never gives up. We figure he’s laying down a search grid outside of town thinking you took off. It won’t take him long to realise you never left. He’s too good. We don’t have much time.’
Annie just huddled on the bed, listening. He couldn’t tell if she was in any state to make sense of it all, and the danger she was in.
‘It’s because you’re part demon. Part human too obviously. We didn’t know that was possible, but I guess it explains those old stories about Lilith and …’ Dean stopped for a moment, thought about Annie’s name and realised that maybe even demons had a sense of tradition - family. Now that was just plain weird.
‘The trouble is, it doesn’t look like you’re going to stay that way, human, I mean. Maybe you didn’t know you were different growing up, could be there aren’t many obvious signs when you’re a half … young. But we think you’ve started changing; maturing. And it’s happening fast. The salt didn’t affect you at first, but now …’
Annie spoke for the first time since she’d pleaded with him earlier. ‘I … felt sick when Sammy brought me here. I had a headache. I thought I was tired - scared, you know? And I’ve been having such bad dreams for so long now. I wanted to stop; to rest somewhere safe, even for just one night.’ She hesitated, struggling.
Dreams. Dean didn’t say anything. He let her work through it. All those odd moments, all those questions she must have had about her mother, her family; those trips. All that was in her face, the doubt, then finally a bitter recognition. Dreams.
‘My mom, she was different. But she was mine, and I had a home again, and … I didn’t want to ask … I thought she might send me away again. I couldn’t … She hurt people? Killed them? You’re sure?’
Nodding. For a minute it was all Dean could do in answer. It wasn’t like he had any concrete evidence. But he knew his Dad, he never made mistakes; and Dean wasn’t making one here either. Whichever way you put the puzzle together, the same picture formed. Annie’s mother at the centre - dead, with his father standing over her. Dean didn’t need to have been there to see that. Even Sammy knew it was true. Except his brother still believed in fairy tales - the hero always got to rescue the princess at the end. Like that was ever going to happen. He wasn’t his father. Never could reach that high. Dad would have killed her by now. His father always knew exactly what to do and didn’t second-guess himself. Heroes weren’t supposed to stand there. Dean didn’t want to know what this made him. Standing there knowing he was about to finish shattering someone’s life. And doing it anyway. Some kind of hero.
‘Rock salt is like poison to you now, and it’s only going to get worse.’
‘Maybe I’m not … like her, maybe I’m like my father?’ She was grasping desperately at genetic straws, they both knew that.
‘Human?’ Dean didn’t want to talk about what he thought had undoubtedly happened to her father. He figured Annie was bright enough to have worked out the possibilities for herself. ‘I don’t think it’s going to be enough. Got to be one of those exxy things,’ he said vaguely, wishing his younger brother was there to help. Sammy might only be twelve, but he positively lived in books and probably had the whole DNA thing down pat years ago.
‘An exxy thing?’
For a brief moment Annie almost grinned, and Dean was ready to do almost anything to keep her happy. When she looked like that he just wanted to … Ah, hell. He really was messed up. It didn’t matter what she was becoming he still wanted to do nothing more than block the world out and get back in bed with her. Fuck.
‘You mean an X chromosome thing?’
‘Whatever,’ Dean said dismissively. He didn’t need two geeks in his life. ‘The point is it looks like you’re going to go all Kafka on me soon whether we like it or not.’
‘You read Kafka?’ She sounded shocked.
‘No way!’ Dean didn’t care that he was even more shocked at the literary accusation. ‘The Fly! Jeff Goldblum. It was awesome!’
Now they were both laughing. Just for that one single minute. It didn’t last. He didn’t think it would ever come back. There was hardly any trace of the girl who’d smiled at him over a cheap burger, teased Sammy and ... Don’t think about it.
‘Are you going to kill me?’ she eventually asked, much too quietly.
What? ‘I … I don’t want to kill you.’ Where did she get the courage, the strength to ask him that? How could he do this to her? You have to do it; you know you do.
‘Tell me you haven’t been sitting there holding that gun and thinking about it,’ Annie said with an unflinching look at his weapon. ‘Why didn’t you just kill me before I woke up? Before you told me the truth - hurt me? Wouldn’t that have been easier? Less painful for both of us?’
‘I was thinking about it. That’s why I sent Sammy to school. So he wouldn’t be here when I, if I … My Dad wouldn’t have had to think. He’d have just done it,’ Dean stated baldly. ‘I’m not him. I always wanted to be just like him. I don’t think I will ever be good enough. A demon killed our mother, and hunting them is all we know, all I have.’
‘Well, I guess we’re even then,’ she said sardonically.
Right now she didn’t look at all interested in ripping his clothes off again. Which was a shame because … Dean knew then that he needed to find a tougher wall. He had to concentrate. Not on that. Hell. Dean was beginning to see why his father had told him he wasn’t the perfect bait. It was easy to forget the fact that the bait always ended up getting eaten. And that whole thing about teenage hormones? Absolutely true. Dean hated clichés, he certainly didn’t want to die one. He didn’t want Annie to die either. He wanted to believe, just like Sammy (and wasn’t that hysterical?), that there was still the outside chance that she might be lucky. That this might be as far as the metamorphosis went. He just needed to be able to keep her out of harm’s way (and out of his bedroom) till he knew for sure, one way or another.
Dean settled cross-legged on the opposite bed. Back against the wall, gun still ready. Mind still in turmoil. ‘Sammy and I are going to take you somewhere safe tonight. Away from here before our Dad comes home. I just need more time to think. Get some rest, it’s going to be a long night.’
~~~
There were only a few things that Dean could remember about the night his mother died. Noise … heat … his father yelling at him to save Sammy … running, always running and not looking back … frost off the Chevy melting through his pyjamas … his father’s empty eyes … their house burning. But the clearest memory of all would always be the sound of his brother crying. That burnt its way into his soul and managed to blaze back out in every dream he’d ever had. He tried not to dream, ever.
His father and brother had always envied his ability to sleep anywhere, anytime. They were wrong. He spent his life running from his dreams; living high on adrenaline, a little faith, and a lot of luck. He taught himself to live in top gear, always revving, continually moving on to the next thing. Never stopping till he was worn out and forced to rest. Even then he put it off as long as possible. Struggling to keep himself awake the only way he could. Embracing the heat, challenging those memories with the taste of fire. It wasn’t safe, and it sure as hell wasn’t healthy, but it worked. Usually. But not any longer.
Now he had another set of dreams to fight. Those seemingly innocuous, lustful daydreams about Melissa and the girls before her had changed the moment he met Annie. One smile from a frightened waif and his coming of age plans had taken a darker, more seductive turn. With each fantasy, the image of the two of them together became more real to him. Dark dreams or light, it didn’t matter, they were all her. Was this how those men died? Unable to stop, no matter the end? Who’s joking now?
He had to fight this. Dad, help me. Had to stop this. Dean looked over at Annie, finally exhaustedly asleep after hours of them both just sitting staring at each other, and reached out for the lighter his father had given him so many years before. He waited for a moment then held it against the blister on his left hand and steadily flicked it on. He had to stay strong for Sammy. Couldn’t let him find out there was something his big brother couldn’t handle. Purge me.
~~~
Dean hadn’t felt so safe since he was a child. Held close, cradled against softness. Hair tousled, and lips gently pressed to his forehead. Smiling, he nestled closer. He just wanted to lie here like this forever. Home. He opened his eyes to see, not his mother, but Annie. All the warmth he’d ever wanted to see, so close. His.
‘Sssh,’ she whispered against his lips. ‘Don’t think. Just feel. You deserve this. You want this.’
For the first time in twelve years Dean dared to believe in dreams. Took the chance to reach out, and was met halfway by someone who needed him just as much. ‘Please,’ he begged as he drew her closer. ‘Don’t leave. Don’t ever leave.’
‘I’ll always be here. In your heart and in your head,’ she said softly.
‘I don’t think it is just my head that wants you,’ he said with a smirk as he kissed her.
She laughed beneath him, ‘What am I going to do with you, Dean?’
‘Oh, I think if we try very hard we’ll be able to come up with something,’ he replied smugly as he lowered his head to her throat. Soft, and that pulse beating right there … He kissed her, then nipped the skin, just enough to make her cry out before he lifted his mouth back to hers, kissing her hard and deep. This was what he wanted, needed so badly. No thoughts …
~~~
Dean tried to avoid Sammy’s gaze when he arrived home from school. His brother was much too quick to pick up things. He didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to protect him from this. Annie was his friend. He shouldn’t have to face this at his age. No one should have to. Dad would know what to do, what to say. Just get packed and ready to go later that night, distract him with the break and enter, that was it.
‘Dean, you’ve been having dreams about Annie haven’t you?’ Sammy asked as they gathered up the sleeping bags and some food. He flushed as he tried to get it all out. ‘You need to tell me. You can’t wait to talk to Dad, and you have to talk to someone. I could help you.’ He was standing there so embarrassed, and eager, and young. Still looking up at Dean like an adoring, hopeful, puppy. Dean wasn’t the world, anymore. He knew that. He just wasn’t ready for his little brother to know it so soon. That he couldn’t fix things, no matter what Sammy wanted to believe. And here he was, trying to help.
Well that plan went to hell in a hand basket. ‘Sammy, don’t.’ Dean said awkwardly. ‘I can’t talk to you about …’ That was his brother, straight to the heart of the matter regardless of anything in the way. Angels ducked for cover when Sammy set his sights on something important.
‘Sex?’ said Sammy. ‘Dean you’re the one who told me all about it. And you drew diagrams, on Playboys!’
‘That was years ago, Sammy,’ Dean said. ‘Don’t make me explain it all again. I’d rather shoot myself first. What?’ he demanded as Sammy ducked his head. ‘You didn’t?’
‘Didn’t what?’ Sammy asked, avoiding his eyes.
‘Tell me you didn’t keep those diagrams?’ Dean said slumping back against the kitchen wall in shock.
‘Shut up,’ Sammy muttered.
‘Oh, Sammy,’ Dean laughed sadly. ‘What the hell. No secrets, right?’
‘No secrets.’
‘Well, we …’
‘Oh, Dean, please tell me you two …’
‘Sammy!’ Dean yelled desperate to stop the next words out of his brother’s mouth being “didn’t fuck like bunnies in our bedroom!” This was one of those times when teaching your little brother everything came back to slap you in the face.
‘You did!’ Sammy sounded shocked, pleased, and perhaps a bit jealous at the same time.
‘No we didn’t, we stopped just … Hell, Sammy. Why’d you go and make me tell you that?’ Dean asked rhetorically.
Sammy blinked. ‘You what? You were stalking Melissa for months, and then we meet Annie, and I like her, and you didn’t?’ The last time Sammy had looked that confused it had been when his favourite teacher hadn’t assigned him extra homework.
‘Sammy, you remember the part where Dad killed her mother? And how she might be a succubus too? It’s the kind of thing that puts a little dampener on romance.’
Dean pretended not to hear Sammy when he muttered something about how he didn’t think romance was what Dean had had in mind.
~~~
‘Do you suppose if it happens in a dream it is real?’ Dean queried doubtfully. ‘It’s just that these dreams aren’t like any of the other … uh … dreams I’ve had about anyone else.’
‘In any of the other dreams did the girl try to kill you?’ Sammy asked pointedly. He’d finally stopped pestering Dean about exactly how far Dean and Annie had gone, and had moved on to the more immediate problem.
‘Are you sure you’re twelve, Sammy?’ Dean asked.
‘I’m a Winchester,’ his brother retorted. ‘And answer the question.’
‘That’s not it. It’s … wonderful,’ Dean mumbled, looking embarrassed to be describing such a chick-flick moment to his little brother. ‘And I’m not scared in the dreams, and neither is she. But it doesn’t matter because, afterwards … in the end I’m lying there - dead.’
‘Dean, no …’ Sammy said. ‘It’s just a dream. It doesn’t have to happen. You can stop it.’ There it was again, that blind faith in Dean.
‘Right, it’ll be easy. Will she call me a tease if I just say no? Say I can’t allow a demonic host to degrade my body? Tell her that this masterpiece is a temple of God?’ Dean joked desperately. ‘I’m not even sure if she knows that she’s in my dreams. Or if it’s that I’m in hers. Whatever it is, I don’t think either of us can stop. We’ve only had the one night … no, not together.’ He struggled to explain again. ‘I mean, I’ve kind of been thinking … ah, hell … dreaming about her since I met her. But now, she’s right here, and everything’s so much more … What am I going to do, Sammy?’ I really need you, Dad. He knew he couldn’t make this decision on his own. Didn’t want to. Had to. It was his problem to fix.
‘Some of Dad’s books suggested fasting and prayer,’ Sammy said with a frown. Sammy, in what Dean used to joking call “research mode,” was downright scary. Dean decided he’d better get used to having a geek for a brother. After all there probably wasn’t a cure for that either.
‘I don’t think that’s going to work, Sammy,’ Dean answered. Too late for me to get religion now. ‘Anyway, I don’t think I’m God’s type.’ He looked back towards the bedroom where Annie lay. How can she sleep? ‘There’s only one way to know for sure what will happen and I can’t let it come to that. But we can’t wait here for Dad. Tonight we move to the library, and somehow tomorrow I’ve got to get Annie the hell out of Dodge.’
‘Wickenburg.’
‘Dodge sounded cooler.’
~~~
Part 5
4,311/26,000 R, Het
Right doesn’t ever count the cost. Should it?
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
Part 4
Dean was still trying to come up with a plan when Annie came to. He just wished he’d drugged her to give himself some more time. Maybe I should have drugged myself instead.
‘How do you feel?’ he asked, careful to keep his distance.
‘Like a cement truck ran over me,’ she said in confusion as she pushed herself back up against the headboard.
Salt truck. ‘There’s more you need … have … to know,’ Dean said with determination. Just do it! ‘Remember we told you that we kill monsters and that our father was hunting some in Phoenix?’
‘I wish I didn’t remember that,’ she said bitterly. She wasn’t trying to run away this time. She was sitting there, taking it. She was even tougher than she’d been trying to pretend to be.
‘Well, he found one of the ones that killed all those men. And he killed her,’ Dean said. Don’t make me say it. How do you tell someone that her mother is dead? You never get over that. How do you say that your father did it? Oh, and by the way, your mother was a monster. And you are too. ‘He killed her last month. He … it … we know now that it was your mother,’ he finished unswervingly, refusing to look away from the shock on her face.
He’d known that telling her would be the hardest part. Known it in his guts the same way he knew that protecting his brother was his sole reason for living. That without his family he was lost, he was nothing. Why won’t she say anything? Please, God. Say something! Now he knew that he was wrong. Watching her pain was worse. Watching her take it in, unblinking acceptance of what he said. Having her believe that his family could do such a thing. Could do? Had done. Having her know that we did such a terrible thing to her mother and family. Finish it!
‘She was a demon, a succubus. She, and I guess, her sister too, killed all those men. So he had to stop her, to kill her. He had to end it.’
No acceptance there now. Annie’s eyes were blazing with anger, fear and … disbelief? Keep going! Dean cut her off as she opened her mouth in angry protest. ‘Your mother was a monster. My father killed her to save people. It’s what he does. What we all have to do. Somebody’s got to fight!’
Annie was up on her knees now, hands fisted, glaring at him, shaking and almost white with the effort not to hit him; fight him physically, in the way she couldn’t do battle with his words - his truth.
‘My mother isn’t … a monster! She’s my Mom.’
Annie’s voice broke on the present tense, and the sound of it sliced deep into him. He was taking everything away from her, stripping her bare of the memories she thought she had of her life; refusing to allow her even the short-term mercy of hope. His father had never told him it was like this. Dean would rather have faced a thousand demons then than the fragile figure of Annie, crumbling in front of him. Because of him. Them. Winchesters never got to see any happy ever afters.
Dean forced himself to remember that Annie was only the latest victim in all this, Phoenix was full of them; Wickenburg was just the end of this particular hunt. The end? Not quite. He wanted to reach out; hold her, protect her, and tell her it was all going to be better in the morning. But Dean wasn’t that good at lying yet. Or at softening the truth as it turned out. He picked up the folder off the bedside table and shoved the photographs of the bodies in front of her. ‘Look at them! She might have been your mother, but that doesn’t make what she was, or what she did right. What about all these people? She and your aunt killed them without thought, and they took pleasure in it; they lived for it. Remember that you told us she said, “Give in temptation and enjoy it?” Was that right? Their nightlife? Literally sucking the life out of men? Killing them?’ Dean let the faces of the dead fall. In a sudden all-consuming rage every death he’d seen or even heard about was one formless, uncontainable, mass of grief. His own mother was merely the foremost figure, and most painful memory, the death that everything else was sharpened on.
Annie’s breath punched out of her in a sob. ‘No …’
Dean wasn’t listening anymore. He couldn’t see.
‘Dean?’ Small hands on his shoulders, soft.
‘Wh…’ Dean blinked stinging eyes at her. He needed to be able to see. To be able to react and handle anything that happened. What he couldn’t deal with was Annie cradling him, trying to soothe his pain.
Dean had an excellent sense of time, all his father’s training had seen to that. But for once it failed him. He had no idea how long he and Annie held each other, touching first in mutual comfort, and then with growing passion. It was only when she flinched for the second time in pain as his amulet bit again into her breast, that a glimmer of common sense broke through the single-minded fervour. After a minute Dean wished it hadn’t. His hand gentled over the tiny scratch, just barely stopping himself from kissing it, and tasting her pain before he set Annie firmly back against the pillows and moved further away on the now all-too small bed.
Goddamn chicks, always with the emotion. Fucking contagious they were.
Dean pushed himself off the bed, and stood against the wall, trying not to feel like a trapped animal. The only place he wanted to be was back in her embrace; but the place he needed to be was with Sammy, far away from anything that could possibly harm his brother. And this? No way was this situation going to end well. Whatever happened Sammy was going to get hurt. Part of Dean was trying to ask “what about me?” but he was used to blocking that out, even without his usual aid.
‘Dean?’ Annie’s voice sounded lost, yearning, and much too tempting.
How had she gotten so damned good at this so fast? He would have sworn she’d had even less practice at this whole thing than he had. Hell, after those first frantic minutes it had been him leading the way, instinct and some secret late-night channel surfing for porn showing him where to go if not exactly helping him get there gracefully. He thumped his head back against the wall. It didn’t help any other part of his anatomy. ‘No, we can’t do this, Annie.’
‘I need you, Dean. Don’t leave me alone, please?’
It was a whisper that slid right through him. That simple plea just reminded him of all the ways his body knew it wanted her. Dean pulled his talisman out of his pocket, gripped it hard in his right hand, and made himself look straight at her again.
Annie’s face was flushed, eyes dark with passion, clothes even more dishevelled than his own, and she was breathing like she’d just finished a marathon. So not like those perfect perky blonde cheerleaders he’d been lusting after and laying plans around. Now, this half-human waif was the only thing his body - he - wanted. But he’d had a lifetime of wanting what he couldn’t have. He’d always let everything go, for Sammy and his father. He could give this up too.
That small smear of blood, the hurt on her face, the pain in her voice - that please; he couldn’t let any of that touch him. What shouldn’t have come so close to breaking him was that same shared sense of loss and grief that reached out to him so strongly. I can’t.
In the end, as always, it was his brother that gave him strength. Sammy. It was enough, for now. Just.
~~~
They were finally back where they started. Both of them safely - huh! - separated by the few feet of space between the bed and his friend the wall; now fully dressed and doing their best to pretend that things like this happened every day. You tell a girl her mother was a monster and your father had to kill her. Then she went and got all emo and weepy, so naturally one thing led to another and they ended up almost humping on the bed like rabbits. Just your average, ordinary, day as a teenager.
Dean hated himself, but he did it anyway. There was more to say, whether Annie wanted to hear it or not. He had to show how very far from ordinary everything was. ‘Your mother’s dead. And I know you don’t want to believe what she was. But you have to, because it isn’t over. You’re still alive. Our father is still out there, hunting, for you now. When Sammy and I went looking for you; Dad had been at your house, asking about you. He never gives up. We figure he’s laying down a search grid outside of town thinking you took off. It won’t take him long to realise you never left. He’s too good. We don’t have much time.’
Annie just huddled on the bed, listening. He couldn’t tell if she was in any state to make sense of it all, and the danger she was in.
‘It’s because you’re part demon. Part human too obviously. We didn’t know that was possible, but I guess it explains those old stories about Lilith and …’ Dean stopped for a moment, thought about Annie’s name and realised that maybe even demons had a sense of tradition - family. Now that was just plain weird.
‘The trouble is, it doesn’t look like you’re going to stay that way, human, I mean. Maybe you didn’t know you were different growing up, could be there aren’t many obvious signs when you’re a half … young. But we think you’ve started changing; maturing. And it’s happening fast. The salt didn’t affect you at first, but now …’
Annie spoke for the first time since she’d pleaded with him earlier. ‘I … felt sick when Sammy brought me here. I had a headache. I thought I was tired - scared, you know? And I’ve been having such bad dreams for so long now. I wanted to stop; to rest somewhere safe, even for just one night.’ She hesitated, struggling.
Dreams. Dean didn’t say anything. He let her work through it. All those odd moments, all those questions she must have had about her mother, her family; those trips. All that was in her face, the doubt, then finally a bitter recognition. Dreams.
‘My mom, she was different. But she was mine, and I had a home again, and … I didn’t want to ask … I thought she might send me away again. I couldn’t … She hurt people? Killed them? You’re sure?’
Nodding. For a minute it was all Dean could do in answer. It wasn’t like he had any concrete evidence. But he knew his Dad, he never made mistakes; and Dean wasn’t making one here either. Whichever way you put the puzzle together, the same picture formed. Annie’s mother at the centre - dead, with his father standing over her. Dean didn’t need to have been there to see that. Even Sammy knew it was true. Except his brother still believed in fairy tales - the hero always got to rescue the princess at the end. Like that was ever going to happen. He wasn’t his father. Never could reach that high. Dad would have killed her by now. His father always knew exactly what to do and didn’t second-guess himself. Heroes weren’t supposed to stand there. Dean didn’t want to know what this made him. Standing there knowing he was about to finish shattering someone’s life. And doing it anyway. Some kind of hero.
‘Rock salt is like poison to you now, and it’s only going to get worse.’
‘Maybe I’m not … like her, maybe I’m like my father?’ She was grasping desperately at genetic straws, they both knew that.
‘Human?’ Dean didn’t want to talk about what he thought had undoubtedly happened to her father. He figured Annie was bright enough to have worked out the possibilities for herself. ‘I don’t think it’s going to be enough. Got to be one of those exxy things,’ he said vaguely, wishing his younger brother was there to help. Sammy might only be twelve, but he positively lived in books and probably had the whole DNA thing down pat years ago.
‘An exxy thing?’
For a brief moment Annie almost grinned, and Dean was ready to do almost anything to keep her happy. When she looked like that he just wanted to … Ah, hell. He really was messed up. It didn’t matter what she was becoming he still wanted to do nothing more than block the world out and get back in bed with her. Fuck.
‘You mean an X chromosome thing?’
‘Whatever,’ Dean said dismissively. He didn’t need two geeks in his life. ‘The point is it looks like you’re going to go all Kafka on me soon whether we like it or not.’
‘You read Kafka?’ She sounded shocked.
‘No way!’ Dean didn’t care that he was even more shocked at the literary accusation. ‘The Fly! Jeff Goldblum. It was awesome!’
Now they were both laughing. Just for that one single minute. It didn’t last. He didn’t think it would ever come back. There was hardly any trace of the girl who’d smiled at him over a cheap burger, teased Sammy and ... Don’t think about it.
‘Are you going to kill me?’ she eventually asked, much too quietly.
What? ‘I … I don’t want to kill you.’ Where did she get the courage, the strength to ask him that? How could he do this to her? You have to do it; you know you do.
‘Tell me you haven’t been sitting there holding that gun and thinking about it,’ Annie said with an unflinching look at his weapon. ‘Why didn’t you just kill me before I woke up? Before you told me the truth - hurt me? Wouldn’t that have been easier? Less painful for both of us?’
‘I was thinking about it. That’s why I sent Sammy to school. So he wouldn’t be here when I, if I … My Dad wouldn’t have had to think. He’d have just done it,’ Dean stated baldly. ‘I’m not him. I always wanted to be just like him. I don’t think I will ever be good enough. A demon killed our mother, and hunting them is all we know, all I have.’
‘Well, I guess we’re even then,’ she said sardonically.
Right now she didn’t look at all interested in ripping his clothes off again. Which was a shame because … Dean knew then that he needed to find a tougher wall. He had to concentrate. Not on that. Hell. Dean was beginning to see why his father had told him he wasn’t the perfect bait. It was easy to forget the fact that the bait always ended up getting eaten. And that whole thing about teenage hormones? Absolutely true. Dean hated clichés, he certainly didn’t want to die one. He didn’t want Annie to die either. He wanted to believe, just like Sammy (and wasn’t that hysterical?), that there was still the outside chance that she might be lucky. That this might be as far as the metamorphosis went. He just needed to be able to keep her out of harm’s way (and out of his bedroom) till he knew for sure, one way or another.
Dean settled cross-legged on the opposite bed. Back against the wall, gun still ready. Mind still in turmoil. ‘Sammy and I are going to take you somewhere safe tonight. Away from here before our Dad comes home. I just need more time to think. Get some rest, it’s going to be a long night.’
~~~
There were only a few things that Dean could remember about the night his mother died. Noise … heat … his father yelling at him to save Sammy … running, always running and not looking back … frost off the Chevy melting through his pyjamas … his father’s empty eyes … their house burning. But the clearest memory of all would always be the sound of his brother crying. That burnt its way into his soul and managed to blaze back out in every dream he’d ever had. He tried not to dream, ever.
His father and brother had always envied his ability to sleep anywhere, anytime. They were wrong. He spent his life running from his dreams; living high on adrenaline, a little faith, and a lot of luck. He taught himself to live in top gear, always revving, continually moving on to the next thing. Never stopping till he was worn out and forced to rest. Even then he put it off as long as possible. Struggling to keep himself awake the only way he could. Embracing the heat, challenging those memories with the taste of fire. It wasn’t safe, and it sure as hell wasn’t healthy, but it worked. Usually. But not any longer.
Now he had another set of dreams to fight. Those seemingly innocuous, lustful daydreams about Melissa and the girls before her had changed the moment he met Annie. One smile from a frightened waif and his coming of age plans had taken a darker, more seductive turn. With each fantasy, the image of the two of them together became more real to him. Dark dreams or light, it didn’t matter, they were all her. Was this how those men died? Unable to stop, no matter the end? Who’s joking now?
He had to fight this. Dad, help me. Had to stop this. Dean looked over at Annie, finally exhaustedly asleep after hours of them both just sitting staring at each other, and reached out for the lighter his father had given him so many years before. He waited for a moment then held it against the blister on his left hand and steadily flicked it on. He had to stay strong for Sammy. Couldn’t let him find out there was something his big brother couldn’t handle. Purge me.
~~~
Dean hadn’t felt so safe since he was a child. Held close, cradled against softness. Hair tousled, and lips gently pressed to his forehead. Smiling, he nestled closer. He just wanted to lie here like this forever. Home. He opened his eyes to see, not his mother, but Annie. All the warmth he’d ever wanted to see, so close. His.
‘Sssh,’ she whispered against his lips. ‘Don’t think. Just feel. You deserve this. You want this.’
For the first time in twelve years Dean dared to believe in dreams. Took the chance to reach out, and was met halfway by someone who needed him just as much. ‘Please,’ he begged as he drew her closer. ‘Don’t leave. Don’t ever leave.’
‘I’ll always be here. In your heart and in your head,’ she said softly.
‘I don’t think it is just my head that wants you,’ he said with a smirk as he kissed her.
She laughed beneath him, ‘What am I going to do with you, Dean?’
‘Oh, I think if we try very hard we’ll be able to come up with something,’ he replied smugly as he lowered his head to her throat. Soft, and that pulse beating right there … He kissed her, then nipped the skin, just enough to make her cry out before he lifted his mouth back to hers, kissing her hard and deep. This was what he wanted, needed so badly. No thoughts …
~~~
Dean tried to avoid Sammy’s gaze when he arrived home from school. His brother was much too quick to pick up things. He didn’t know how much longer he’d be able to protect him from this. Annie was his friend. He shouldn’t have to face this at his age. No one should have to. Dad would know what to do, what to say. Just get packed and ready to go later that night, distract him with the break and enter, that was it.
‘Dean, you’ve been having dreams about Annie haven’t you?’ Sammy asked as they gathered up the sleeping bags and some food. He flushed as he tried to get it all out. ‘You need to tell me. You can’t wait to talk to Dad, and you have to talk to someone. I could help you.’ He was standing there so embarrassed, and eager, and young. Still looking up at Dean like an adoring, hopeful, puppy. Dean wasn’t the world, anymore. He knew that. He just wasn’t ready for his little brother to know it so soon. That he couldn’t fix things, no matter what Sammy wanted to believe. And here he was, trying to help.
Well that plan went to hell in a hand basket. ‘Sammy, don’t.’ Dean said awkwardly. ‘I can’t talk to you about …’ That was his brother, straight to the heart of the matter regardless of anything in the way. Angels ducked for cover when Sammy set his sights on something important.
‘Sex?’ said Sammy. ‘Dean you’re the one who told me all about it. And you drew diagrams, on Playboys!’
‘That was years ago, Sammy,’ Dean said. ‘Don’t make me explain it all again. I’d rather shoot myself first. What?’ he demanded as Sammy ducked his head. ‘You didn’t?’
‘Didn’t what?’ Sammy asked, avoiding his eyes.
‘Tell me you didn’t keep those diagrams?’ Dean said slumping back against the kitchen wall in shock.
‘Shut up,’ Sammy muttered.
‘Oh, Sammy,’ Dean laughed sadly. ‘What the hell. No secrets, right?’
‘No secrets.’
‘Well, we …’
‘Oh, Dean, please tell me you two …’
‘Sammy!’ Dean yelled desperate to stop the next words out of his brother’s mouth being “didn’t fuck like bunnies in our bedroom!” This was one of those times when teaching your little brother everything came back to slap you in the face.
‘You did!’ Sammy sounded shocked, pleased, and perhaps a bit jealous at the same time.
‘No we didn’t, we stopped just … Hell, Sammy. Why’d you go and make me tell you that?’ Dean asked rhetorically.
Sammy blinked. ‘You what? You were stalking Melissa for months, and then we meet Annie, and I like her, and you didn’t?’ The last time Sammy had looked that confused it had been when his favourite teacher hadn’t assigned him extra homework.
‘Sammy, you remember the part where Dad killed her mother? And how she might be a succubus too? It’s the kind of thing that puts a little dampener on romance.’
Dean pretended not to hear Sammy when he muttered something about how he didn’t think romance was what Dean had had in mind.
~~~
‘Do you suppose if it happens in a dream it is real?’ Dean queried doubtfully. ‘It’s just that these dreams aren’t like any of the other … uh … dreams I’ve had about anyone else.’
‘In any of the other dreams did the girl try to kill you?’ Sammy asked pointedly. He’d finally stopped pestering Dean about exactly how far Dean and Annie had gone, and had moved on to the more immediate problem.
‘Are you sure you’re twelve, Sammy?’ Dean asked.
‘I’m a Winchester,’ his brother retorted. ‘And answer the question.’
‘That’s not it. It’s … wonderful,’ Dean mumbled, looking embarrassed to be describing such a chick-flick moment to his little brother. ‘And I’m not scared in the dreams, and neither is she. But it doesn’t matter because, afterwards … in the end I’m lying there - dead.’
‘Dean, no …’ Sammy said. ‘It’s just a dream. It doesn’t have to happen. You can stop it.’ There it was again, that blind faith in Dean.
‘Right, it’ll be easy. Will she call me a tease if I just say no? Say I can’t allow a demonic host to degrade my body? Tell her that this masterpiece is a temple of God?’ Dean joked desperately. ‘I’m not even sure if she knows that she’s in my dreams. Or if it’s that I’m in hers. Whatever it is, I don’t think either of us can stop. We’ve only had the one night … no, not together.’ He struggled to explain again. ‘I mean, I’ve kind of been thinking … ah, hell … dreaming about her since I met her. But now, she’s right here, and everything’s so much more … What am I going to do, Sammy?’ I really need you, Dad. He knew he couldn’t make this decision on his own. Didn’t want to. Had to. It was his problem to fix.
‘Some of Dad’s books suggested fasting and prayer,’ Sammy said with a frown. Sammy, in what Dean used to joking call “research mode,” was downright scary. Dean decided he’d better get used to having a geek for a brother. After all there probably wasn’t a cure for that either.
‘I don’t think that’s going to work, Sammy,’ Dean answered. Too late for me to get religion now. ‘Anyway, I don’t think I’m God’s type.’ He looked back towards the bedroom where Annie lay. How can she sleep? ‘There’s only one way to know for sure what will happen and I can’t let it come to that. But we can’t wait here for Dad. Tonight we move to the library, and somehow tomorrow I’ve got to get Annie the hell out of Dodge.’
‘Wickenburg.’
‘Dodge sounded cooler.’
~~~
Part 5