Chapter 12 : Run Away

I found myself in my hotel room alone. For the first time in a long time, there was no peace in the quiet. Even when my head was completely clear, I still found myself picking apart the last two days and how Dean had taken a quick hold of my life.

I couldn't get his words out of my head, though.

Last night seemed to prove otherwise, but I knew it wouldn't be long until it actually did happen. It always happened. No matter how hard I tried or fought, everyone I got close to ended up dead - and somehow, they knew this.

This is probably why I was standing here in this empty room as Sam and Dean loaded the car and why I pretended I was asleep this morning when they decided to have a friendly little chat about me over black coffee.

Sam didn't hold back either. The first thing out of his mouth was how he thought there was something wrong with me. He told Dean about everything he saw last night. How the Scarecrow just stared at me and then let me be. Like I wasn't worthy of a sacrifice.

How I ended up being scarier than the giant who had visions was beyond me. I could barely contain myself as they talked about Sam like it was no big deal, and if my drinking and my exploits were more of a danger than the boy who saw people die, then it was pretty clear we were not meant to work together.

There was no beating around this bush because they all knew it would have caught fire if they continued to circle. So I did what they wouldn't do or were afraid of doing in fear of disobeying them even further.

I walked away from it.

They left a little after sunrise. They made sure I was awake and caffeinated, pretending that everything was okay as I scarfed down the sliver of pie Dean had left.

I was flooded with relief the moment they stepped out of the door, but I waited until I knew they were at least a town over before I packed what little I had onto the back of my bike we had retrieved last night.

I pulled off the bandages around my wrists and slid into my leather gloves. The tight straps dug into my skin, but instead of taking them off to relieve the pain, I welcomed them as a painful reminder that I was still alive, and even though I was dangerous, I was still vulnerable.

I debated sending them a message, but the last thing I needed was running from yet another Winchester. John was one thing. He was too busy in his own little world to be bothered with tracking me down, but the boys, dead set on appeasing him, would stop at nothing to find me, and I needed as big of headstart I could get.

So, I drove for two days and didn't turn my phone back until I settled in a small cabin just outside of Boulder, Colorado. It was secluded. Quiet. Exactly what I needed to refocus. No heavy breathing over my back or breathless green eyes staring at me from across the room. Just me, my bottle of Jack, and the endless pit that was the internet.

I tried for days to find something to kill, but all I managed to do was empty bottle after bottle, chase away headaches, and kick men out of my room. It was probably the closest thing I had to a vacation in years, but even now, I couldn't help but wonder what the Winchester's were up to.

Whether Sam and Dean were glad I was gone or if they were scouring the country for any trace of my drunken shenanigans. Even John had crossed my mind on multiple occasions and whether or not he had come any closer to finding a way to kill Azazel.

I made the mistake of turning on my phone around day nine. Quite honestly, I had lost track of how long I had been hiding out in this cabin, but with a natural hot spring just down the hill and working cable, time slipped by quickly.

My voicemail was packed, and I groaned as my phone forced me to delete them one by one. Listening to every long-winded threat that John or Dean had for me.

Delete.

But the last one made me listen, even with the half-naked man snoring gently behind me. I wasn't sure what he was still doing here or what his name was, but he looked like some Greek God, and honestly, I could watch him sleep forever.

My finger hovered over the button for a moment as his words weighed on my chest. A laugh played in my throat as I realized quickly that the man who I thought I was going to get killed had managed to do it all on his own

I dropped my phone on the nightstand as the man next to me snaked his arm around my waist and pulled me down. A soft moan escaped me as his lips connected to my throat and his cool fingers found their way up my waist, cupping my chest tightly.

I sunk into him as he bit gently, sliding my leg over his waist and pushing him down onto the bed. I stared at him, his tired brown eyes fluttering away the sleep as I traced my finger over the dark stubble on his chin.

"You are perfection," he moaned. His hands ran up and down my waist, but even in the ecstasy, I couldn't get the damn Winchester out of my head.

He gripped my hips tightly as he pulled me down against and I threw my head back, ready for the forced euphoria as the wailing siren of John Winchester's ring tone ripped the seductive silence.

I groaned and reached over, hitting the ignore button, but it rang again only seconds later.

"Are you sure you don't want to get that?"

"No," I muttered breathlessly as I pulled him forward, crushing my numb lips against his.

His fingers ran down the length of my back, and I shivered, feeling his fingernails digging into my skin.

He gripped me by the hips and flipped us over, slamming me on my stomach and pulling my hips into the air. His hand wrapped tightly in my hair, pulling me backward towards him as his other hand wrapped around my throat as the phone went off again.

"Fucking Christ," I shouted as my phone erupted through the room again.

I wanted to ignore it, but the sound of an apocalyptic siren didn't exactly send me into the frenzy I desired, so I pulled away from the nameless man and ripped open my phone, still nearly out of breath.

"What do you want, John?"

"I need your help."

"John, I told you to leave me alone," I growled at him, watching as my naked friend slipped off the bed.

He bent down in front of the sink, drinking water from the faucet as John ripped me a new one.

"I'm sorry," I mouthed.

He shook his head, but instead of the light-hearted smile I had hoped for, he started picking his clothes up from around the small room, and I pulled the phone away from my ear and covered the speaker.

"Where are you going?"

"It sounds like you need to take this, and I have to be at the station in a half-hour." He said as he started to button his blue collared shirt.

My eyes widened at the badge on his sleeve, and I nearly had a coronary as I realized I had spent the last ten hours with a police officer while my mini arsenal sat in a duffel bag just behind him.

I sighed in frustration. He leaned forward, kissed my forehead, and thanked me quickly for a good time before he grabbed his wallet and keys from the corner stand and left me staring down at my phone as John yelled my name.

"I'm here. What?"

"You didn't hear a damn word I just said, did you?"

"No!" I shouted at him. "I don't care, John, about any of it. I'm sorry he's hurt - but there's nothing I can do about it. I kill monsters, not work miracles."

John took a deep breath, and I pictured him glaring at his phone. His big scruffy face, glaring down at me as if I was a toddler who just said my first cuss word.

"I just need you to call Sam and tell him where to go."

I clenched my eyes, shaking my hands into the air as if he could see me. What did this man not get?

"Why can't you?"

"He'll trace my phone's location, and I'm going to be here for a little while." He explained. "Do this for me, and I will leave you alone. Andi, I promise."

I groaned. I never knew John Winchester to keep a promise, but the desperation in his voice was pulling at strings I didn't know existed anymore.

"Fine." I grabbed the notepad off the nightstand and wrote down the information he had given me. "This is the last thing I ever do for you, John. I hope you know that."

"I understand." His voice was riddled with something I couldn't place. "And Andi?"

"What?"

"Save my boy, and then stop it."

"What do you mean? I'm not going anywhere. I'm just calling him." I asked him, but all I got in return was silence. "John? John!"

The dial tone beeped in my ear and slammed my phone down onto the messy sheets.

"Bastard."

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