And Die In Thee - 5/7
And Die In Thee - 5/7
2,483/26,000 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 5
Breaking into the library was as easy as beating the locals at poker. Dean didn’t know why he hadn’t ever tried to do it before. Oh, right. Library. No point. But it was funny how, despite everything, both Sammy and even Annie seemed to perk up immediately they were inside. Nerds! ‘Come on you two literary fiends, this isn’t a slumber party at your favourite bookstore. Grab this stuff and let’s find a place to bunker down.’
‘Hmm, not exactly the Super-8 is it?’ Dean said, appraising the back storeroom. ‘At least there aren’t any windows, so we can leave the light on. And this definitely isn’t on the local security guard’s top ten list.’ Guess that just leaves Dad and Annie for me to worry about.
He deliberately turned away from Annie, rummaged in his bag for the container of rock salt and proceeded to lay a thick trail across the open doorway. ‘Sammy, you set up the sleeping bags, then we’d better have some food before we all crash.’
Two hours later none of them showed any signs of fading. Nervous tension had them all on edge and no one could fake a cheerful conversation for very long. ‘What the hell?’ Dean thought and dug into his jacket pocket to bring out a pack of cards. ‘Poker anyone?’
‘Don’t do it, Annie,’ Sammy said seriously. ‘He’ll take you for everything and leave you bleeding on the sidewalk. Dad could bluff his way into the White House; Dean’s better.’
Dean just buffed his nails on his jacket with a cool smirk. ‘Come on Annie, what’s your … game?’
‘Old Maid?’ she suggested with false brightness.
‘Now you’re just being mean,’ Dean said, tossing the cards down onto the bare floorboards in disgust. ‘Sammy, you keep Annie company while I scout around and see what else I can come up with.’
~~~
‘Dean, I think you got mixed up, these are books!’ Sammy exclaimed in mock surprise when he returned.
‘Don’t even start with me,’ Dean said. ‘Wasn’t like there were too many other choices out there. Don’t get your skirt in a twist with the excitement, Samantha. I just grabbed a few of the less dusty ones to shut you two up.’ He dumped the armful down between them and went off to rummage through his bag for his notebook. Time to read up on how to kill a succubus. Don’t make me do this.
‘Moby Dick?’ Sammy asked as he started sorting through the eclectic pile.
‘The ultimate hunt,’ Dean said absently as he leafed through the conflicting notes.
‘Frankenstein?’
‘Awesome, man.’
‘A Wrinkle in Time?’
Dean flushed. ‘Dad once said it was Mom’s favourite book when she was a kid. What are you looking at?’
‘Nothing,’ Sammy said. ‘Nothing at all. Robert Frost? You picked up a book of poetry?’
‘Accident, dude. I’ll take it back later.’
‘Sense and Sensibility?’
‘Um,’ Dean muttered, not looking at anyone. ‘I thought Annie might like that. ‘Cos, Jane Austen you know.’
‘I know,’ Sammy said quietly as Annie made an excited dive for it.
‘There’s just one thing missing,’ Sammy said.
‘What?’
‘The Ultimate Chevy Owner’s Handbook,’ Sammy replied with a grin.
‘I’ve already got that,’ Dean said, patting the empty pocket of his jacket, going with the joke in an attempt to prove that everything was normal. Pretending, like they all were. ‘Now settle down you two. Lights out in an hour, and we start trading off watches. Sammy you’re up first.’
~~~
‘I need you,’ he said again, twisting so that she was beneath him. ‘Need you,’ repeating the words like a mantra as he trailed his lips back up her throat to that mouth. All he wanted to do was drown in her and never come up for air.
Tears brimming, she reached up to slide her hands through his hair and tug him closer. Dean’s eyes closed as they sank into each other. So damned good. Never gonna let go.
~~~
Dean walked over to the open doorway, looking down at that fragile layer of protection. As the hours passed she’d had to move further and further away from the door. He didn’t think she was even conscious of that reflex. The look in Sammy’s eyes had pained him as much as the rock salt hurt her. Soon it won’t be enough to hold her. The dreams were coming more frequently. Got to stop this.
He looked back towards his brother and Annie, both curled up like mirror images across the room. Five days and his world had shifted. What happens now? He couldn’t risk any more dreams.
Do it. Dean leant back against the wall and reached into his jacket for his defence against the dark. Flame, the warmth he craved; the fire, he hated. He’d spent his life fighting that which drew him so deep. Last time, I swear. He took a breath and began again. Oh God. Dad, it hurts. Make it stop.
~~~
‘Dean, no!’ Sammy hissed at him, springing to his feet in panic and running over to slap the Zippo out of his hand. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
‘I …,’ Dean began, but he couldn’t finish. Never meant to hurt you, Sammy.
‘Is this what you’ve been doing all this time?’ Sammy choked out brokenly. ‘All these years I’ve been falling asleep to the sound of you playing with that damned lighter Dad gave you. I’ll kill Dad! You lay there clicking it on and off. Every night! And I thought it was just another one of your things. Like the way you always hide cookies under your bed, or drive Dad and I crazy when you play air guitar even when the radio is off. What the hell have you been doing - thinking about, Dean?’
‘Sammy, don’t,’ Dean started to say.
‘No, Dean,’ his brother snapped at him with a quick glance at Annie still sleeping in the corner. ‘Let me see,’ he demanded more quietly, reaching out for Dean’s hands. ‘Oh, God,’ his grip gentled as he stroked trembling fingers over the blister layered over the calluses of older wounds on his left hand. ‘All these years? Why? I believed you when you said that last burn on your hand was an accident. Look at me, Dean! Why are you doing this? Hurting yourself?’
He couldn’t lie to himself or his brother any longer. Had to give up another secret. ‘It’s the only thing that I can feel, the one thing that makes everything else go away. I don’t always …’
‘Burn yourself?’ Sammy asked bitterly.
He didn’t look like a kid anymore. He looked old. Hard, and worn, and worried; he looked like Dad. Dean had done that to him. Let him find out too much. My fault. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t be able to see the rest. The accusations, the loss of a hero. It wasn’t enough. He could feel Sammy there, holding on; waiting for him. Still there. Listening. How could he stay after he knew what Dean was? What he could never be?
‘No. Most of the time just having it, watching it … daring it, is enough. But sometimes I need - more,’ Dean whispered with regret. ‘I’m sorry, Sammy. I never meant to disappoint you. I didn’t want you to know that I can’t … that I’m not Dad’s perfect soldier, like I should be.’
‘Dean, I always wanted to be you. I always will. You’re my big brother, and I love you, whatever you do. But you’ve got to stop this,’ Sammy said, anger giving him enough strength to shake Dean into looking at him again. ‘I can’t lose you. You’ve got to stop!’
‘Sammy, please,’ Dean tried to interrupt in vain.
‘God, sometimes you’re so stupid! Isn’t our life bad enough without you hurting yourself? Why couldn’t you tell me? Or Dad? Aren’t we enough? Look what you’re doing to yourself, Dean. You’re going to kill yourself, is that what you want? To die? To leave me alone, with Dad? Are you crazy?’ Sammy was screaming now, heedless of anything other than his brother’s pain.
‘You’re not going to do this. You want to hurt someone, hurt me,’ Sammy choked out, spinning away to grab the Zippo off the floor, flicking it open and holding it against his arm before Dean could even think to move.
It took Dean forever to reach him. An age in which his brother just stood there, not uttering a sound as tears rolled down his face and his flesh began to burn. Forever to throw the lighter, talisman no longer, right at Annie’s unnaturally still form. Forever to hold his brother in turn, and listen to him cry. Forever to realise that whatever he did to himself, he did to Sammy too.
‘No, Sammy,’ Dean said stricken. ‘Why’d you have to go and do it too?
‘Because, I’m your brother, and just as stubborn as you are,’ Sammy answered with a wince. ‘And just as stupid. Ow, shit that hurts.’
‘Fucking A! Of course it hurts you little IDIOT!’ Dean shouted, before punching him carefully on the other arm.
‘See? You’re not the only screwed up person in the world, Dean. Get a grip, okay? We need you Dean. When are you going to realise that we love you and that we can’t do this without you? You keep us together, Dean.’
Love was one of those words that made Dean very uncomfortable. This time he decided not to call Sammy on it. ‘I guess I may possibly be a little fucked up,’ Dean said with a pitiful attempt at a grin as Sammy frowned at him.
‘More than a bit, you big lug,’ Sammy muttered breaking out of Dean’s reluctant hold to drag him into the library’s closest bathroom to stick his hand under running water. It wasn’t until some time later while Dean was doing the same thing to Sammy’s arm that he realised that his brother had chosen the women’s bathroom. That mistake got Sammy a dunking.
Unfortunately water wasn’t something that hindered Sammy’s ability to speak. He was still talking even after Dean had made him change clothes. He looked up from where he was digging into one of the packs in search of the first aid kit. ‘Maybe we should both stop trying to be what Dad wants us to be. Do you ever wonder what our lives would be like without all this?’ He gestured helplessly around the dark storeroom. ‘Always running, hunting, moving on?’
‘No,’ Dean said slowly. ‘I don’t. I can’t. I’m good at this. I love the excitement, the chase, the way I feel when we finally kill one of them. It’s the only thing that makes sense to me. It’s just that sometimes I need to feel more …’
‘You can’t do this to yourself again, Dean. You can’t do this to me,’ Sammy said firmly as he looked his brother straight in the eyes as he insisted on bandaging Dean’s deeper wound first. ‘Promise me you won’t. I can’t lose you too, and if you keep doing this I will. Please, Dean. Dad and I need you.’
Aw, Sammy. He’d gone and done it again. Dean looked down at his brother’s serious face. Everything he’d been trying to shut out was there in Sammy’s eyes. Emotions open to all; devotion, but not blind, not any more. He didn’t deserve that understanding. How can he still love me when he knows? His brother had suddenly grown up right in front of him. ‘Got to make him proud,’ was the only thought he could hang on to.
‘Okay, Sammy,’ he said softly as his brother handed over the medical supplies for the turnabout treatment. ‘I promise. The two of us will get through this together. As a team.’
‘Well, partner,’ Sammy said a few minutes later, tugged Dean over to his sleeping bag and actually shoving him down to rest. ‘I’ll start my watch now. I’ve got your back.’
~~~
Annie’s fingers dug into his hips, clenching hard - marking him the way his kisses, his bites had marked her. Mine. He was never going to get enough of this. The way her scent wrapped itself around him closer even than her arms. The way she writhed beneath him, wrapping her legs around his to pull him tighter. Don’t ever stop. Dean had never felt or imagined anything quite as perfect as that final moment of release as she contorted under him, moaning back into his mouth, struggling to get closer. Trying to … too much heat, it was like sheet lightning, burning through him … he couldn’t breathe …
No! He tensed, adrenaline sending him exploding out of those arms as he rolled sideways off the bed and came upright into a combat stance; hand reaching in a futile gesture for his missing pistol. Naked, and no damn weapon. The second thing was a big mistake. Maybe the first was too.
‘What the hell?’ he yelled out to Annie as she crouched, snarling on all fours on the bed.
A bed, a different location, and no Sammy. No time to think, just act - deal with the initial threat, then reassess the situation. He did.
‘Dean, no,’ Annie gasped out over the stranglehold he put around her neck. ‘Please. Don’t … hurt me.’
‘Sweetheart, I haven’t even begun to hurt you,’ he bit out, glaring down at her.
‘Don’t! Please, Dean …’
‘Dean? Hey, are you okay? Wake-up, it’s time for your last shift.’
Dean doubled up, trying desperately to breathe. That’s it. He looked across the storeroom to where Annie still lay contentedly curled up in one of the sleeping bags. He shook his brother’s hand off his shoulder and got slowly to his feet.
‘Dean, what?’
‘Quiet, Sammy,’ he said as he picked up his pistol and went over to Annie. Don’t touch her. He had to see her face. Her eyes, when she woke up. He had to know. You already know. He had to see it. He squatted down next to her, stretched out his left hand and gently cupped it behind her neck. Don’t do it. He let his thumb stroke softly down her cheek, just the once. Just like before. She curled into his touch, smiling, still asleep.
‘Dean, no!’ Sammy cried as he automatically brought his own gun to bear on her.
‘Sssh, Sammy,’ he said quietly as he tightened his grip a fraction. Do it. That’s it. She flinched slightly under the pressure, eyelids flickering and then … there it is. She looked up at him, face suffused with passion - hunger, then blinked, surprised. Eyes back to normal. For now.
‘Dean? What’s wrong?’ Annie asked, before … remembering and shattering.
‘Time to go, Annie. Time to go,’ he said steadily.
~~~
Part 6
2,483/26,000 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 5
Breaking into the library was as easy as beating the locals at poker. Dean didn’t know why he hadn’t ever tried to do it before. Oh, right. Library. No point. But it was funny how, despite everything, both Sammy and even Annie seemed to perk up immediately they were inside. Nerds! ‘Come on you two literary fiends, this isn’t a slumber party at your favourite bookstore. Grab this stuff and let’s find a place to bunker down.’
‘Hmm, not exactly the Super-8 is it?’ Dean said, appraising the back storeroom. ‘At least there aren’t any windows, so we can leave the light on. And this definitely isn’t on the local security guard’s top ten list.’ Guess that just leaves Dad and Annie for me to worry about.
He deliberately turned away from Annie, rummaged in his bag for the container of rock salt and proceeded to lay a thick trail across the open doorway. ‘Sammy, you set up the sleeping bags, then we’d better have some food before we all crash.’
Two hours later none of them showed any signs of fading. Nervous tension had them all on edge and no one could fake a cheerful conversation for very long. ‘What the hell?’ Dean thought and dug into his jacket pocket to bring out a pack of cards. ‘Poker anyone?’
‘Don’t do it, Annie,’ Sammy said seriously. ‘He’ll take you for everything and leave you bleeding on the sidewalk. Dad could bluff his way into the White House; Dean’s better.’
Dean just buffed his nails on his jacket with a cool smirk. ‘Come on Annie, what’s your … game?’
‘Old Maid?’ she suggested with false brightness.
‘Now you’re just being mean,’ Dean said, tossing the cards down onto the bare floorboards in disgust. ‘Sammy, you keep Annie company while I scout around and see what else I can come up with.’
~~~
‘Dean, I think you got mixed up, these are books!’ Sammy exclaimed in mock surprise when he returned.
‘Don’t even start with me,’ Dean said. ‘Wasn’t like there were too many other choices out there. Don’t get your skirt in a twist with the excitement, Samantha. I just grabbed a few of the less dusty ones to shut you two up.’ He dumped the armful down between them and went off to rummage through his bag for his notebook. Time to read up on how to kill a succubus. Don’t make me do this.
‘Moby Dick?’ Sammy asked as he started sorting through the eclectic pile.
‘The ultimate hunt,’ Dean said absently as he leafed through the conflicting notes.
‘Frankenstein?’
‘Awesome, man.’
‘A Wrinkle in Time?’
Dean flushed. ‘Dad once said it was Mom’s favourite book when she was a kid. What are you looking at?’
‘Nothing,’ Sammy said. ‘Nothing at all. Robert Frost? You picked up a book of poetry?’
‘Accident, dude. I’ll take it back later.’
‘Sense and Sensibility?’
‘Um,’ Dean muttered, not looking at anyone. ‘I thought Annie might like that. ‘Cos, Jane Austen you know.’
‘I know,’ Sammy said quietly as Annie made an excited dive for it.
‘There’s just one thing missing,’ Sammy said.
‘What?’
‘The Ultimate Chevy Owner’s Handbook,’ Sammy replied with a grin.
‘I’ve already got that,’ Dean said, patting the empty pocket of his jacket, going with the joke in an attempt to prove that everything was normal. Pretending, like they all were. ‘Now settle down you two. Lights out in an hour, and we start trading off watches. Sammy you’re up first.’
~~~
‘I need you,’ he said again, twisting so that she was beneath him. ‘Need you,’ repeating the words like a mantra as he trailed his lips back up her throat to that mouth. All he wanted to do was drown in her and never come up for air.
Tears brimming, she reached up to slide her hands through his hair and tug him closer. Dean’s eyes closed as they sank into each other. So damned good. Never gonna let go.
~~~
Dean walked over to the open doorway, looking down at that fragile layer of protection. As the hours passed she’d had to move further and further away from the door. He didn’t think she was even conscious of that reflex. The look in Sammy’s eyes had pained him as much as the rock salt hurt her. Soon it won’t be enough to hold her. The dreams were coming more frequently. Got to stop this.
He looked back towards his brother and Annie, both curled up like mirror images across the room. Five days and his world had shifted. What happens now? He couldn’t risk any more dreams.
Do it. Dean leant back against the wall and reached into his jacket for his defence against the dark. Flame, the warmth he craved; the fire, he hated. He’d spent his life fighting that which drew him so deep. Last time, I swear. He took a breath and began again. Oh God. Dad, it hurts. Make it stop.
~~~
‘Dean, no!’ Sammy hissed at him, springing to his feet in panic and running over to slap the Zippo out of his hand. ‘What the hell do you think you’re doing?’
‘I …,’ Dean began, but he couldn’t finish. Never meant to hurt you, Sammy.
‘Is this what you’ve been doing all this time?’ Sammy choked out brokenly. ‘All these years I’ve been falling asleep to the sound of you playing with that damned lighter Dad gave you. I’ll kill Dad! You lay there clicking it on and off. Every night! And I thought it was just another one of your things. Like the way you always hide cookies under your bed, or drive Dad and I crazy when you play air guitar even when the radio is off. What the hell have you been doing - thinking about, Dean?’
‘Sammy, don’t,’ Dean started to say.
‘No, Dean,’ his brother snapped at him with a quick glance at Annie still sleeping in the corner. ‘Let me see,’ he demanded more quietly, reaching out for Dean’s hands. ‘Oh, God,’ his grip gentled as he stroked trembling fingers over the blister layered over the calluses of older wounds on his left hand. ‘All these years? Why? I believed you when you said that last burn on your hand was an accident. Look at me, Dean! Why are you doing this? Hurting yourself?’
He couldn’t lie to himself or his brother any longer. Had to give up another secret. ‘It’s the only thing that I can feel, the one thing that makes everything else go away. I don’t always …’
‘Burn yourself?’ Sammy asked bitterly.
He didn’t look like a kid anymore. He looked old. Hard, and worn, and worried; he looked like Dad. Dean had done that to him. Let him find out too much. My fault. He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t be able to see the rest. The accusations, the loss of a hero. It wasn’t enough. He could feel Sammy there, holding on; waiting for him. Still there. Listening. How could he stay after he knew what Dean was? What he could never be?
‘No. Most of the time just having it, watching it … daring it, is enough. But sometimes I need - more,’ Dean whispered with regret. ‘I’m sorry, Sammy. I never meant to disappoint you. I didn’t want you to know that I can’t … that I’m not Dad’s perfect soldier, like I should be.’
‘Dean, I always wanted to be you. I always will. You’re my big brother, and I love you, whatever you do. But you’ve got to stop this,’ Sammy said, anger giving him enough strength to shake Dean into looking at him again. ‘I can’t lose you. You’ve got to stop!’
‘Sammy, please,’ Dean tried to interrupt in vain.
‘God, sometimes you’re so stupid! Isn’t our life bad enough without you hurting yourself? Why couldn’t you tell me? Or Dad? Aren’t we enough? Look what you’re doing to yourself, Dean. You’re going to kill yourself, is that what you want? To die? To leave me alone, with Dad? Are you crazy?’ Sammy was screaming now, heedless of anything other than his brother’s pain.
‘You’re not going to do this. You want to hurt someone, hurt me,’ Sammy choked out, spinning away to grab the Zippo off the floor, flicking it open and holding it against his arm before Dean could even think to move.
It took Dean forever to reach him. An age in which his brother just stood there, not uttering a sound as tears rolled down his face and his flesh began to burn. Forever to throw the lighter, talisman no longer, right at Annie’s unnaturally still form. Forever to hold his brother in turn, and listen to him cry. Forever to realise that whatever he did to himself, he did to Sammy too.
‘No, Sammy,’ Dean said stricken. ‘Why’d you have to go and do it too?
‘Because, I’m your brother, and just as stubborn as you are,’ Sammy answered with a wince. ‘And just as stupid. Ow, shit that hurts.’
‘Fucking A! Of course it hurts you little IDIOT!’ Dean shouted, before punching him carefully on the other arm.
‘See? You’re not the only screwed up person in the world, Dean. Get a grip, okay? We need you Dean. When are you going to realise that we love you and that we can’t do this without you? You keep us together, Dean.’
Love was one of those words that made Dean very uncomfortable. This time he decided not to call Sammy on it. ‘I guess I may possibly be a little fucked up,’ Dean said with a pitiful attempt at a grin as Sammy frowned at him.
‘More than a bit, you big lug,’ Sammy muttered breaking out of Dean’s reluctant hold to drag him into the library’s closest bathroom to stick his hand under running water. It wasn’t until some time later while Dean was doing the same thing to Sammy’s arm that he realised that his brother had chosen the women’s bathroom. That mistake got Sammy a dunking.
Unfortunately water wasn’t something that hindered Sammy’s ability to speak. He was still talking even after Dean had made him change clothes. He looked up from where he was digging into one of the packs in search of the first aid kit. ‘Maybe we should both stop trying to be what Dad wants us to be. Do you ever wonder what our lives would be like without all this?’ He gestured helplessly around the dark storeroom. ‘Always running, hunting, moving on?’
‘No,’ Dean said slowly. ‘I don’t. I can’t. I’m good at this. I love the excitement, the chase, the way I feel when we finally kill one of them. It’s the only thing that makes sense to me. It’s just that sometimes I need to feel more …’
‘You can’t do this to yourself again, Dean. You can’t do this to me,’ Sammy said firmly as he looked his brother straight in the eyes as he insisted on bandaging Dean’s deeper wound first. ‘Promise me you won’t. I can’t lose you too, and if you keep doing this I will. Please, Dean. Dad and I need you.’
Aw, Sammy. He’d gone and done it again. Dean looked down at his brother’s serious face. Everything he’d been trying to shut out was there in Sammy’s eyes. Emotions open to all; devotion, but not blind, not any more. He didn’t deserve that understanding. How can he still love me when he knows? His brother had suddenly grown up right in front of him. ‘Got to make him proud,’ was the only thought he could hang on to.
‘Okay, Sammy,’ he said softly as his brother handed over the medical supplies for the turnabout treatment. ‘I promise. The two of us will get through this together. As a team.’
‘Well, partner,’ Sammy said a few minutes later, tugged Dean over to his sleeping bag and actually shoving him down to rest. ‘I’ll start my watch now. I’ve got your back.’
~~~
Annie’s fingers dug into his hips, clenching hard - marking him the way his kisses, his bites had marked her. Mine. He was never going to get enough of this. The way her scent wrapped itself around him closer even than her arms. The way she writhed beneath him, wrapping her legs around his to pull him tighter. Don’t ever stop. Dean had never felt or imagined anything quite as perfect as that final moment of release as she contorted under him, moaning back into his mouth, struggling to get closer. Trying to … too much heat, it was like sheet lightning, burning through him … he couldn’t breathe …
No! He tensed, adrenaline sending him exploding out of those arms as he rolled sideways off the bed and came upright into a combat stance; hand reaching in a futile gesture for his missing pistol. Naked, and no damn weapon. The second thing was a big mistake. Maybe the first was too.
‘What the hell?’ he yelled out to Annie as she crouched, snarling on all fours on the bed.
A bed, a different location, and no Sammy. No time to think, just act - deal with the initial threat, then reassess the situation. He did.
‘Dean, no,’ Annie gasped out over the stranglehold he put around her neck. ‘Please. Don’t … hurt me.’
‘Sweetheart, I haven’t even begun to hurt you,’ he bit out, glaring down at her.
‘Don’t! Please, Dean …’
‘Dean? Hey, are you okay? Wake-up, it’s time for your last shift.’
Dean doubled up, trying desperately to breathe. That’s it. He looked across the storeroom to where Annie still lay contentedly curled up in one of the sleeping bags. He shook his brother’s hand off his shoulder and got slowly to his feet.
‘Dean, what?’
‘Quiet, Sammy,’ he said as he picked up his pistol and went over to Annie. Don’t touch her. He had to see her face. Her eyes, when she woke up. He had to know. You already know. He had to see it. He squatted down next to her, stretched out his left hand and gently cupped it behind her neck. Don’t do it. He let his thumb stroke softly down her cheek, just the once. Just like before. She curled into his touch, smiling, still asleep.
‘Dean, no!’ Sammy cried as he automatically brought his own gun to bear on her.
‘Sssh, Sammy,’ he said quietly as he tightened his grip a fraction. Do it. That’s it. She flinched slightly under the pressure, eyelids flickering and then … there it is. She looked up at him, face suffused with passion - hunger, then blinked, surprised. Eyes back to normal. For now.
‘Dean? What’s wrong?’ Annie asked, before … remembering and shattering.
‘Time to go, Annie. Time to go,’ he said steadily.
~~~
Part 6