Chapter 25 : Don't Die

by

     "Am I right or wrong, Andrea?" Sam asked me from the other side of the Impala. I wasn't sure what they had been bickering about for the last hour as my mind had been elsewhere, but listening to them now was just the distraction I needed from my thoughts. 

     "I'm not involved in this. You to wanna duke it out, and I will gladly be the scorekeeper, but -"

     "Shut up, Andi," Dean snapped, turning his back to me as he glared up at his little brother on the other side of the car.

     "Okay then," I scoffed, throwing my bags into the back of Bobby's car and slamming the door shut. "Someone's a little hostile this morning."

     "Because he knows he's wrong." Sam rounded the Impala. He was beyond angry, and to be honest. He had every right to be. "I lied to Jessica for a year and a half, and you go out with this chick in Ohio a couple of times, and you tell her everything."

     "What do you want me to say, Sam? That I screwed up? That I finally cared about someone enough to tell them our family secret?" Dean shouted, instantly glancing around to make sure no one was within listening distance. "It doesn't matter because she never believed me anyway."

    "Your such a hypocrite."

    "Shut up about it already."

    I leaned up against the hood of Bobby's car and watched as the two of them continued to go at it. I didn't care, really, but it kept me occupied. Every moment I was left alone with my thoughts, my mind wandered back to the messages that came by the dozens. I couldn't keep thinking about it, not now. Not when I was trying my hardest to stick to the plan I had tossed and turned about all night. I was stuck in a nightmare, and if it kept going like this, I was going to pull these boys down with me. I already had the pieces in play. I just had to find the part of me again that didn't care about repercussions.

     "You know what?" Sam slammed the door shut and grabbed his bags from the backseat. "I'll drive with Andrea."

     They both looked at me for a reaction, but I could only shake my head and sigh. "As much as I would love the company, Sam, I'm not going."

     "What? Why not?"

     I smiled at Sam and waved back towards the car. "I gotta get Bobby's car back and take care of a few things."

    "Typical," Dean muttered, turning away as a sudden rage filled me.

     I glared at him for a moment, trying my best to keep my calm. We hadn't really spoken since I left the room last night, and words were short and hard to produce when we did. We could barely even look at each other, but I was mainly to blame. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't being a bit bitter about the whole thing, but if I was being frank with myself, as much as I wanted it to happen, it was probably better that it hadn't. 

     I was about to ruin his life, and acting on that impulse would have only made it hurt that much worse. I just had to keep up the pretense. I had to keep going as if I actually cared to help or would actually be able to because there was a big chance this whole plan could fail, and then I would have three Winchesters after instead of just two. 

      "I'm all for helping your girlfriend Dean, but I think Sam's right," I said, doing my best to keep the venom from my lips. "I'm sorry about her dad's death, but I don't see how a car accident is our kind of problem."

      "She wouldn't have called if it wasn't."

      "And that's fine, but I'll be right behind you. Girardeau is fifteen hours away, and Bobby's is only a couple of hours difference. I'm sure you can handle this on your own."

      He shook his head and shut the car door roughly. I wasn't sure why he was the one so aggravated, but I wasn't sticking around for it. I gave Sam a hug and apologized for not being able to save him from the hell of a ride he was about to endure. I didn't really know Sam all that well. Hell, I barely knew either of them, but it felt like I was saying goodbye to someone I had known forever. 

     His hand lingered on my shoulder as he looked down at me. The giant of a man smiled as I patted him on his back and promised to come back with the biggest, greenest salad he ever had, but my laugh faltered as my line of sight landed on Dean. He just stared at the two of us, a frustrated scowl on his beaten face. I knew making him angry would have been easier than promising I would come back, but he didn't seem to care regardless, so I rolled my eyes and made my way back into the motel to grab the rest of my things.

      I was acutely aware that he had followed me into the room. The moment the door shut behind him, the hair on my arms stood straight, and my stomach twisted. He didn't say anything, though, and I wasn't sure he was going to, but I hated the feeling of him watching me in silence. 

     "I thought you were leaving?"

     "And I thought you were getting a tow truck for Bobby's car." He countered, proving that he had been pretending to sleep while Sam and I talked over mountains of food last night.

     "I changed my mind," I said, collecting my gun and phone charger from the nightstand. I made sure the chamber was empty, and the bullets were loaded before sliding it into the waist of my pants. "It's not a big deal. I told you I would catch up. I want my bike and some time to myself."

     "Time to yourself," he mocked in a whisper. "Is that because of last night?"

     "I wouldn't give yourself that much credit Winchester." I laughed, doing my best to avoid eye contact altogether. I forced out a light chuckle, hoping it would send him storming out of the room, but he was not silent about the offense he had taken from my words. 

     "Seriously?"

     I knew I had to nip it in the bud before giving him a reason to think I cared about what happened. "Dean, last night was nothing more than a lapse of better judgment. Okay? I'm sorry it happened, really. I wasn't thinking." 

     "Can we just talk about it?"

     I finally looked up at him, and I instantly wished I hadn't. He's tired, angry eyes were softer, and he looked at me like he had last night when I pushed him away after answering his phone. As if I had been the one rejecting him or going him away all over again. He made it clear he wanted to know me, but I wasn't sure he would like who I was anymore. 

     "There's nothing to talk about, Dean. I said I was sorry. It won't happen again. Scouts honor." I cringed as the words fell from my lips, but it was the only truth I could accept right now, and whether he liked it or not, it was the only one he would be getting. 

    I could tell by his heavy sigh that my words frustrated him and every bit of it soured every cell in my body, but it was just a kiss. That's all it was, and that was all it would ever be. I figured that's all it was to him as well, but from the look on his face, I knew deep down that it was just as painful to hear as it was to say. 

     "I should get going," I said, pulling my backpack over my shoulder.  His green eyes narrowed at me, but it wasn't in anger. I had to get away from him. There was only one way to protect him, and if I stood here any longer, I would lose every bit of courage I had left to go through it. "Are we good here?"

      He didn't say anything for a moment. His eyes fluttered, and lips moved to speak, but instead, he nodded and shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his father's leather jacket.

     "I'll see you in a few days then." I patted him on the shoulder, ignoring the wince he tried to hide, and pulled away. "And Dean..." His eyes perked up as we finally met each other's gaze. I tried to smile and gripped onto the strap of my backpack for dear life. "Don't die."

     "Yeah," he finally muttered. "You too."

     I climbed into the Chevelle quickly, not wanting to be held back any longer. I knew if I had stayed any longer, I probably would have stayed for good, so I didn't look at either of them as I backed out. I cursed Azazel with every word known to mankind and some of my own creation. I just wanted this all to be over. Six feet in the ground seemed far better off than a life full of goodbyes and maybes. 

      I held it together for as long as I could, but I ended up pulling off a dirt road to compose myself. I shouldn't have, but I turned on my phone, and the moment it lit up, I broke as the sound of over a hundred text messages deafened me. I wasn't sure how long I sat there with my head against the steering wheel as the tears fell down my face, but after a while, the dinging bad stopped, and I wiped my face before picking my phone up.

     It only rang twice before his voice broke the dreaded wait. I had only spoken to him for a few minutes last night as I wandered to the vending machine, but I hadn't been able to think straight since.

     I had no idea what I was doing or how this would play out, but I cleared my throat and tried my best to act as normal as possible.

    "Did you get it?"

    "Tell me again why you couldn't do this yourself?" 

     I sighed, falling back into the driver's seat. "Because you left me to die at Bobby's. You owe me, John. Now, where are you?"

     "I just got here."

     "Okay, I just left the boys. I'm a couple hours out, but I'll be there soon."

     "Sounds good."