Chapter 18 : Nameless Face

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by

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     I stared down at the text message I sent John. A million things were going through my mind as I wandered around my room, shoving what little possessions I owned into my bag. I couldn't stay here. I couldn't finish this job, not when my mind was lingering on letting someone die. 

     The thought that something was wrong with me was eating at every bit of my morals, and after my little chat with the boys, I knew this was what I had to do. I told them Roy was crazy. That I was perfectly fine, but I knew they didn't buy it. Hell, I'm pretty sure deep down somewhere I had realized I had been lying to myself this whole time. 

     They were headed back to the service tonight. After Dean and his fire drill, Sue Ann and Roy had both promised me a private session with no interruptions if my companions stayed away. I probably took it a little too far, but I made them aware that whatever fictional relationship that existed between the boys and me was no longer of concern. 

     My phone buzzed, and I picked it up from the bed. 

.

     I stared out the window, watching Dean clean out the lunch containers from the Impala. He was bobbing his head to the music that clouded my thinking process, and I sighed. For some reason, I just really didn't want to leave either of them, but I knew they wouldn't be able to help me with this, and I was only more in danger if I wasn't focused. 

     I pulled a map of Nebraska from my backpack and dropped my ring, hoping it landed on the town with a Dairy Queen. I sighed, never hearing of the town before, and quickly sent him a message back. 

.

     His response was instant.

     I sat back on the edge of my bed, staring around the empty room. My duffel bag sat on the floor at my feet, and I jumped as my door swung open, leaving me no time to shove it under the bed. 

    "Sam wants to grab food before we go," Dean said, his gaze wandering around the spotless room until his eyes landed on my bag. "I'd ask where you wanted to eat, but I'm gonna go out on a limb here and assume you're taking off again?" 

     I sucked in a deep breath and picked my bag up, slinging it over my shoulder. He could try all he wanted to stop me, but it wasn't going to happen. It wasn't like I was trying to run away from him. For once, I was actually running towards my problems and, depending on the outcome, towards death. 

     "I talked to Sam." I started, but he slammed the door shut behind him and glared at me. Instantly making me nervous. I sat back down quickly as he came closer and kept my head low as I talked. "He said he found the book with the binding spell in Roy's library.  You probably already know, but your gonna have to find and destroy the altar and the necklace you said she was wearing. It was the same one in the book so, I'm as-"

     "You can't just leave."

     "What?"

     He stared down at me, his arms folded across his burgundy shirt that was scrunched up at the elbows.

     "You're a part of this, Andi. You can't just leave. They're doing the service specifically for you."

     "I know. I'm sorry, but I can't. I have to go." I said. "I wish I could explain it, but I - I can't even explain it to myself, Dean. I gotta find out what's going on with me."

     "You mean the whole headache thing?"

     I shrugged, and he shook his head, his thumb coming to his mouth as he bit at his nail anxiously. It seemed as though a million thoughts were rushing through his head, and I sighed, wishing I could help him sort them out. 

     "Well, then we'll finish the job and then get you to a doctor."

      "Dean, no." I shook my head. "It's not that simple."

      "How isn't it?" His brow raised at me as his hands moved about. "When you're - you go to the ."

     I hung my head low. I had a feeling I knew what was wrong with me, and going to the doctors was going to do nothing but confirm my suspicions. I didn't have time for it. I didn't have time for medicine, treatments, or anything other than finishing the job I started twelve years ago.

     I couldn't put it into words, though. But from the look on my face, I think he knew as well. It wasn't as simple as a cold or needing a few stitches. Whatever it was was serious, and I didn't realize until after Roy had tried to heal me just how off I had been.

     "Are you gonna come back?"

     His question caught me off guard, and I looked up at him, his lips tight as he watched me fidget. I felt a tenseness about him, and it dug into every nerve of my body, but I let out a light-hearted laugh and stood, patting him on the shoulder.

     "What's wrong, Winchester?" I leaned my head on his shoulder and looked up at him. He stiffened under my gesture, and I pulled away.  "You gonna miss me?" 

      "Not a chance." His head dropped as he chuckled. "Just making sure I don't have to hunt down a witch for a cloaking spell."

     I feigned an obnoxious laugh and waved my hand out the door. He strolled past me, and I gave the room a once over, making sure I hadn't forgotten anything before pulling it closed.

     "You're not gonna say goodbye to Sammy?"

     I ignored him for a moment as I strapped my bag to the back of my bike. I slipped my gloves up over my cold fingers and shrugged as I caught his gaze. "Honestly, I was hoping I didn't have to say goodbye to either of you."

     "You know you don't have to say goodbye at all."

     A smirk pulled at my lips. "Look at you getting soft, Dean. A week ago, we were plotting each other's murders, and now you're begging me to stay."

     He laughed gently, rubbing his bottom lip with his thumb. "Well, I always told myself if I ever found a girl who could out-drink me without puking or kick my ass with her bare hands, that I would marry her."

      "Yeah?" I laughed. "Well, sadly, you found me, and I don't think I'm the kind of girl you want to keep around."

     "You're not so bad."

     "You're just saying that because you think I'm dying." I laughed, fidgeting with the strap of my helmet.

     "You know I'm sure Nebraska has its fill of scumbags. All we have to do is take one to Sue Ann and force -."

     "Absolutely not, Dean."

     "What?" His jaw dropped. "Why?"

      "Because the only difference between me and some scumbag in jail is the fact that they got caught and I didn't. I murder people. I steal. I ruin people's lives, and I don't bat a lash doing it. I'm not worth it."

     "But I was? It was okay for you and Sam to do it for me? You don't think I thought the same thing? What we do is important, Andrea, and this screwed-up world that we live in needs us. You included."

      "I appreciate that, Dean, I do. But, there's a big difference between the two of us." He stepped back, folding his hands across his chest, waiting for an explanation I didn't want to own up to. "You do this for all the right reasons. You help people. You save people because it's the right thing to do. I do it because I love the rush. I love the blood. I love watching the light go out. I can't afford to care about casualties, and there have been far more than I care to admit to."

     "That can't be true."

     "Well, it is." I snapped. "That's why I don't do the suits. I don't do the fake FBI bullshit. I hunt. I don't investigate. I follow the trail of bodies until it leads me to something to kill. I guess you can say karma is just finally catching up to me."

     "I don't believe in karma."

     "But you believe in werewolves." I laughed until I saw the look on his face. "It doesn't matter, Dean. You and Sam have more important things to do than worry about me."

     "It does matter."

     "No, it doesn't. Dean, my story doesn't have a happy ending. As much as you want to think it does. I've known that since the day that bastard killed my family. I'm going to die - one way or another, and I don't have a hell of a lot of time left to take this demon down with me."

     Dean shook his head slowly, trying to wrap his mind around my words. I all but outed myself as the monster I really was, and he was still standing there, looking me up and down as if I was a fractured piece of art.

     "There's absolutely nothing I can say that will convince you to let us help you, is there?" "Have a good life Winchester."

     I went to put my helmet on, but his hand wrapped around my forearm. His fingers tightened around the leather of my jacket, and he stared at me, his jaw twitching as if he was holding back the urge to scream.

     Before I could speak, he leaned forward and pressed his swollen lips against mine. My eyes fluttered closed as his fingers traced my jaw, and he lingered for just a moment before pulling away.

     His hot exhale made my lips tingle, and I opened my eyes slowly to see him standing there, only inches away, staring down at my lips.

     "You shouldn't have done that."

     "I know." He rubbed his thumb across my lip before dropping his hands at his sides. "I just didn't want the last person you kissed to be a nameless face."

     "Goodbye, Dean."