#samxoc

[in-the-illusion]

Reborn, a supernatural fanfic | FanFiction

So..my first chapter of the new story is up. I know it is short , but I have only started recently and this is the introduction..

Feedback is always great..I would like to know what you think about it!!

[themoonandotherslikeit]

The Hand That Reaches for God -Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

“He touches you, like a prayer for which no words exist, and you feel your heart taking root in your body, like you’ve discovered something you don’t even have a name for.” - Richard Siken

-26 Days After-

Pheli’s boots banged down the stairs, her heart thrumming in her chest and her ears ringing from her close proximity to the gunshot. She couldn’t believe she pulled the trigger. Her hands were still shaking. At least it was finally over. Her watch beeped at her wrist, telling her that her hour was up. “Fuck!” She shouted, hopping steps, gripping the handrail. She ran, pushing forward, until she made it out into the street.

The Jeep was running, but hadn’t left three minutes later by some miracle. She flung open the back door and slid in. “Let’s go!” She said breathless, still trying to catch her breath from the run.

Dean frowned at her. “Where’s Gordon?”

“It’s been sixty-four minutes, do you not follow directions?” Pheli asked, patting Ash’s shoulder. “Lets go!”

Ash looked back at her with a frown. “What happened back there? Where’s Gordon? We heard a shot...”

“He’s gone.” Pheli said flatly through clenched teeth. “We need to go. It isn’t safe.”

Ash exchanged a look with Dean in the rear view mirror and put the Jeep in drive.

Pheli watched the city bleed past her as Ash pressed play on his cassette. Her hands gripped hers and Gordons packs that sat on her lap. Dean took her trembling fingers from their tight grip on the fabric of the bag, and into his hand. “Rogues?” He asked her softly.

That would be easier, wouldn’t it? He could’ve been overrun, but she wouldn’t have escaped. They’d question that. A good hunter compared to a girl who still owns lipgloss in an apocalypse, who would believe that he was taken down? She tried to focus on her breathing.

“I can talk to Cas when we get back.” Dean offered.

He was too nice. Would he still offer if he knew what Pheli did? She felt sick to her stomach. “I’ll handle it.” She told him. It was time that she started doing things for herself.

They didn’t speak the rest of the ride. She just looked out the window and tried to think about how things would be better. She was still convincing herself as they pulled up to the camp. She hopped out of the Jeep before it came to a complete stop. “I’ll take the bag.” Dean said cautiously.

“Take Gordon’s too. I was able to grab it before...” She stopped herself.

“You got it.”

She nodded thankfully to him and jogged back to her tent. She opened the flap slowly to find Emerson curled up and still asleep, like she never left. She smiled at her sister, and shedded herself of her weapons and boots. Pheli climbed under the blankets and snuggled in close to her sister. “Em.” She whispered, pressing a kiss on her nose. “You don’t have to be scared anymore. I took care of it.”

Emerson’s eye slowly opened, confusion flooding her face. “What?”

“You won’t ever see him again.”

“Pheli, what did you do?”

Ophelia pushed Emerson’s hair out behind her ear. “I just wanted you to know that it’s okay now. He’s gone, and we will never see him again.”

****

“So I’ve been thinking.” Dean said, leaning against the tree outside of Emerson’s tent.

“God, Dean!” She shouted, holding her chest. She’d been inside of the tent long after Pheli left to go visit Sam. She was only leaving, because her growling stomach was keeping her awake.

“Man, you Maklen girls gotta stop calling me God, it’s just awkward.”

“You’re so annoying.” Emerson huffed, feeling her heartbeat in her ears.

“Like I said before you so rudely interrupted, I’ve been thinking.”

“Well that’s never a good sign.” She said, crossing her arms.

“Hurtful.” He raised an eyebrow.

“So you just wanted me to know that you were thinking? I know it’s rare, but not exactly news worthy.”

“No.” He said, grabbing her hand before she could walk away. She winced and looked down at their hands. “I wanted to talk. I was thinking we needed to talk. There’s been a big misunderstanding...”

She pulled her hand from his. “Dean...”

“Come on.” He said quietly, stepping closer to her.

She fought the urge to run, digging her heels in the dirt. She tried to remind herself that she wasn’t afraid of Dean, but it was hard to when he was blocking her way.

“Just five minutes, Em. I don’t...” He sighed. “I don’t want it to end like this. Not when this... not when we just got started.”

Her eyes flickered to his, and she swallowed the ball in her throat. “Five minutes.” She agreed.

“Come with me.” He offered her a hand, and she crossed her arms in response, but nodded to indicate that she would still follow him.

Dean put his hand in his pocket instead and walked toward the back of the camp. It was dusk, the sky a deep shade of blue, lit and glowing from the sun that hung low on the horizon. It was the time when day kissed the night. Emerson felt a chill run up her spine despite the heat of Summer that still was heavy in the air, and she wrapped her arms around herself.

They reached a solid portion of wall and Dean settled his foot in a crack in the wall and effortlessly hoisted himself up to sit on top of it, favoring his uninjured knee. He reached a hand out to Emerson, and she stared at his palm and extended fingers. “What are you doing?”

“Come on.” He said quietly, offering her a vulnerable smile. “I’m doin a thing.”

She sighed heavily.

She used to be afraid of Dean. She was afraid of the potential for pain. She saw him from the roof, sneaking out back to smoke a cigarette. She saw him kissing girls, pressing them up against the door of the Impala after he learned how to drive. She wouldn’t be one of those girls. She wouldn’t give in to the wiles of someone like Dean Winchester. She knew by looking at him that he could destroy her. It was easy to keep him at a distance then, before she really knew him, but as she looked at his hand and his kind face reaching to her, she knew she shouldn’t be afraid.

She placed her hand in his and let him pull her up. The wall was thicker than she expected, and she was able to easily settle on to it. It was about three feet wide, and she settled close enough to the edge for her feet to dangle. Dean did the same, his pinky brushing hers. “Alright, you’ve got me up here, what now?”

“Now we watch.” He said quietly, pointing at the glowing sky, and the stars that were appearing out of the darkness. “We haven’t really looked up since all of this started, have we?”

“This is what you want to talk about?” She complained. “You have five minutes and you want to talk about the sky...”

“Em.” He placed his hand on hers. “Just look, okay?”

She sighed again and turned her face up. Without the lights from the city, the clear sky was glistening with flakes of sparkling white. Little twinkles winked hello at them. There was still a hint of the sun on the horizon, but yet she was able to see the stars better than she ever did in the city. “Wow.” She whispered. The sight knocked the breath right out of her body.

“I figured we always had our best talks on your roof lookin at the stars. I missed that the most when I went away.”

Her eyes flickered from the speckled night sky to his face. He looked at Emerson like she imagined her face looked like when she saw those stars. His lips were parted, emitting shallow breaths, his cheeks were flushed, and his pupils were wide. “I missed it, too. I stopped going out there when you left.”

“I never wanted that. I didn’t want your life to change when I left.”

“But it did, Dean.” Emerson snapped a bit. “We were never together, but we were never apart either. You were always there, even when I didn’t want you to be. How was I supposed to just keep things the same when a permanent fixture in my life was gone? That’s fucking ridiculous.”

A grin grew on Dean’s face and he laughed a bit to himself. “I think I forgot.”

“Forgot what?” She asked, pulling her hand away from his so she could cross her arms.

“How cute you are when you’re mad at me. When I was away I always tried to picture your face, but it was never quite right. It’s this... this is what I was tryin to remember.”

“Well, I’m glad my annoyance is entertaining to you.” She huffed, turning back to the sky. “Is that all, Dean?” Her heart was tired, and the darker it got the more the fear bubbled up inside of her. It had gotten so much worse since Pheli said she’d taken care of it. Emerson knew that couldn’t be good, but she hadn’t figured out how to get the answers that she needed.

“No, that’s not all.” Dean said, clearing his throat. “This shit with Lisa... it’s caught me off guard, and I’m sorry. I didn’t expect to ever see her again and then there she was...”

“I get it, Dean. I saw the baby... he’s...”

“He’s not mine.”

“He could be. You wanted him to be, and it may be your only chance at a family. She’s single.”

Deans face scrunched up, his nose wrinkling, and his eyebrows coming together. “You’re not seriously suggesting that.”

“I am.”

“I don’t want to be with Lisa.”

“Can’t forgive her?”

“Don’t want to.” Dean grunted, staring at Emerson. He was waiting for her to turn her head and look at him, but she was planted with her chin up toward the stars.

“Seems unreasonable.”

“You’re being unreasonable.” He groaned in annoyance.

“Aww, I forgot how cute it was when you were annoyed with me.” She said flatly.

“Touché.” He sighed and shook his head. “I’m serious, Em. Lisa was never... she was never right for me. She was just there in my darkest time. She was there after my accident when I needed someone the most.”

-2 Years Before-

“Where is he?” Emerson asked as she ran through the hallway at the hospital.

Mary Winchester stood up from her chair in the waiting room, her tissue against her mouth as she tried to stifle her sobs. John was nowhere to be found, but that was no real surprise.

Sam took his mother into his arms and they cried together. “He’s strong, Mom... he will make it... he...”

They were watching a movie at the dorm when they heard. Dean was in an accident. Some kind of explosion, and he was stable enough to be transferred back to the states for surgery. They didn’t have any other information. She felt sick, like the room was spinning. It was the feeling of being too drunk. It wasn’t fun, just dizzying. She gripped ahold of the arm rest of a chair and closed her eyes.

She wanted to channel anger and annoyance like she usually did when it came to him, but how could she when he was hurt? Her legs shook and she fell to her knees. He told her he thought he would die out there. His words from so long ago rang in her ears. “Part of me thinks I’m gonna die out there.” She gripped the small lobby trash can that was next to her and vomited.

It all seemed so stupid. All the times they fought, all the times that she pushed him away even though she wanted to pull him closer. She wanted to go back in time and beg him to stay. She wanted to kiss him at Happy Fun Land. She wanted to take it all back, so then at least if he died they would’ve had that time. Now they had nothing but missed opportunities and mistakes.

****

He came out of surgery a few agonizing hours later. They only allowed one visitor at a time in the ICU, so Mary went in, then Sam. Emerson and Pheli sat in the waiting room with their hands tangled together.

“He’s out of surgery, this is good.” Pheli said gently.

“Yeah.” Emersons voice was small.

“You know he won’t die, Em. He’s got to live another day to annoy you.”

“Sounds like something he’d say.”

“It is something he’d say. I’m sure he will tell you it himself when he’s awake.”

Emerson’s nose and eyes burned from the tears she was holding back, and her chest felt like it was in knots. “What if he... what if he doesn’t wake up, Phel? He was in an explosion... and the last thing I said to him was that talking to him was a mistake.”

“When was that?”

“Christmas senior year.”

“When you left the house? I knew it!”

“He just...” She let out a desperate gasp. She was drowning. She couldn’t fucking breathe.

“Hey, hey.” Pheli said, alarmed. She turned and grabbed the paper bag that held their earlier dinner order, and put it up to Emerson’s lips. “Breathe, come on. You’re hyperventilating.”

Emerson breathed into the bag. In and out. In and out. In and out until she was steady again. Until the tears stopped streaming down her cheeks. “Sometimes I think I’ve done everything wrong.”

“You’ve done your best.” Pheli promised quietly.

“I haven’t. I should’ve done more... I should’ve...”

Sam came into the waiting room, causing both of the girls  to sit up straighter. “How is he?” Ophelia asked, because Emerson couldn’t find the words.

“He’s... he’s stable right now. The surgery went well, but they’re worried about infection. He was...” Sam’s voice cracked and it took him a moment to recompose himself before he met Emerson’s eyes. “He was left out there for a few days before someone found him. There’s a lot of damage, but they hope he will walk again.”

Her stomach dropped. She didn’t know what to say. The words hadn’t been created to describe what she was thinking. Or if they had, she didn’t remember them. She wasn’t even squeezing Pheli’s hand anymore. Her fingers were just limp inside of her sisters.

“Is he awake?” Pheli asked.

“No. They’re keeping him sedated... they say he will be in a lot of pain.”

“Can I see him?” Emerson found herself asking, before she could stop herself. She wasn’t family. She wasn’t his girlfriend. They didn’t exactly end amicably. She never sent him a letter back. She didn’t deserve to see him, but yet.

“That’s why I was coming out. I’m going to take Mom home. I was hoping you would sit with him. Phel, you mind driving? I don’t think I should.”

“Of course.” The girls said at once, and Pheli reached for Sam’s hand.

“Room eight” He told Emerson, before they hurried off to grab Mary.

She stared down the hallway and his room seemed miles away. She suddenly felt very small, but it didn’t matter. She wasn’t the one hurt. He was. So Emerson walked to him like she should have a thousand times before.

Sam didn’t prepare her, but when she looked at him she didn’t know how she would’ve taken it, knowing ahead of time. Dean Winchester wasn’t a small man. He towered over six feet tall, and he always had a thicker frame. He could’ve been a body guard or a football player, so it was heart stopping to see him laying a hospital bed looking so small. She approached him slowly, as if her presence would disturb him somehow.

There was a tube down his throat, and tape on his chin. His lips were chapped and cracked. He looked so pale. There were tubes going out all over him, and his leg was out and wrapped up in a metal contraption to keep it in place. The more she looked at him, the more stitches and cuts she found. He was bruised and beaten.

She pulled up the chair next to him and lowered herself onto it. “Dean.” Her voice came out small, like a child’s. “It’s me... Em, I don’t know if you can hear me.” She chewed the inside of her cheek, trying to hold back her emotion, and find the words all in one motion.

She decided to go with what was the most familiar. Something that was easy. “You just have to get all the attention, don’t you?” She forced a smile. “God, that’s so annoying. We didn’t forget about you, so you really didn’t need to go and get blown up to make a statement.”

Her fingers found his. There was still dirt under his nails. Why didn’t anyone clean them?

“This is the most ridiculous thing you’ve done to get me to come to you, but I’m here. Guess I’m the sucker, always falling for your tricks.” Her thumb rubbed circles on the back of his hand.

Her chest was tight and she sucked in a breath. She was suddenly aware of the sterile air, the constant beeps and hums of the machines. She wondered if he even smelled like himself and if he ever would again. “I told you not to die. You didn’t listen. God why don’t you ever listen? I’m so mad at you... I’ve been mad at you for a long time now, but this... I won’t be able to ever forgive you if you die. You hear me, Winchester? You know me, I have ways... I’ll...” She lifted his hand and pressed a kiss on the back of his hand. “I won’t survive that. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? If I lose you it’ll fucking break me. I know we aren’t... I know I didn’t write you back. I know the night you left was... I just know, okay? I know we aren’t in love. We aren’t together or meant to be or any of that shit that Pheli is obsessed with, but knowing that you’re out there just makes my life a little better. If I knew you were gone it’d just... it’d be a goddamn tragedy.” She reached forward and touched his cheek.  

“I don’t believe in all that stuff. The stuff that people write romance books about, but you... Dean I could write a book about you.” She leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek.

After a week Sam and Pheli had to go back to school. He was studying Pre Law and he couldn’t miss anymore class. Mary went back to work. Evidentially when the boys moved out of the house she kicked John out. Emerson was proud of her for that, and she knew Dean would be, too, if he didn’t already know.

Everyone left, except for Emerson.

Most of the next two weeks he was sedated. He developed an infection in his leg, and it was touch and go for awhile. They thought he would lose the leg.

“You aren’t losing this leg, Dean. You hear me?” Emerson said sternly. “I won’t let them cut it off, so you have to fight.”

She told him to, and he did. He had another surgery, and despite how mangled it looked, he was able to keep the leg.

“We can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done for this family, Emerson.” Mary said, as she offered Em a cup of coffee.

“It’s no problem, really.” She said awkwardly, shifting on her feet. She blew on the coffee before taking a sip. “If It were me he would be up here annoying me, so I thought I’d return the favor.”

“He was always a little lost on you.”

Emerson coughed in surprise, her coffee shooting down her wind pipe. “I.. what... how do you mean?”

Mary smiled bashfully, looking down. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew. He was always looking at you through the window, or when he was working on the car. I thought you were much too young for him, but that was then. Age is more of a number the older you get, don’t you think? When he convinced Sam to ask out your sister, I was sure it was the start of something, but he is shy.”

“Dean never came across as shy to me.”

“He acts very confident, but most of it is a show. It’s a distraction from what’s real. It’s easier than being vulnerable. I’m sure you’ve noticed.”

“I have.” Emerson said quietly, her cheeks warming up. “I just didn’t think... I don’t know. I thought it was all a game.”

“With you? No, sweetheart. It never was a game. Girls come and go, but you never have.” She offered a warm smile and pulled Emerson into a hug.

She left as quickly as she came, like she always did. Emerson watched her go with a wave and went back to Deans room. She opened the door and her coffee fell from her hand and crashed to the floor. “Dean?”

He was sitting up in bed, just barely propped up by a few pillows, but there he was. He was awake. He smiled at her. “Hey Sweetheart.”

“Oh my god.” She sloshed through the coffee and closed the space between them. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

“Thirsty.” He admitted.

She reached for her water cup and placed the straw at his lips. “Here.”

“Thanks.” He said After a few satisfying sips. “What happened, Em? I’m not dead, am I?”

“What? No... There was an accident... an explosion.” She pressed her lips together. She hoped for the moment that he would wake up. The moment he would smile at her, but she didn’t know what to say, not really. Nothing seemed like enough. “Sam got the call when we were all together, and I came. Of course I came.”

Dean smiled a bit. “Well that’s a fuckin relief. I was sure I was dead. Looked like heaven in here.” He tilted his head to the side.

“You’re medicated.” She said, trying to meet their usual snark, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She couldn’t hide how happy she was to see him up and talking.

“Missed me, huh? Couldn’t wait to run to my side.”

“That’s it.” She rolled her eyes. “Can’t stay away from you anymore, Dean. I’m head over heels.”

“Knew it.”

“God, some things never change.”

Deans face softened, his shoulders wilting. “Aw, Em. Hey, it’s okay.”

She reached up and touched her cheek. She was crying. When the fuck did that happen?

“I’ll try to not be such an ass...”

“No... Don’t. I’m glad it didn’t change. I’m glad you’re still you.”

“‘Mere.” He said, opening his arms.

Emerson moved before she could really stop herself, and she allowed herself to sit next to him opposite his bad leg.

“Nah, all the fuckin way.” He said, widening his arms and gesturing for her to come closer with his fingers. “I won’t break, promise.”

“You don’t know that.” She grumbled, but complied, laying down curled against his side.

He wrapped his arms around her tightly and pressed his lips to the crown of her head. “Thanks for bein here.”

“There’s nowhere else for me to be but here.”

“How long has it been?”

“Almost a month.”

He frowned deeply. “Where are we? Shouldn’t you be in school...”

“No.” She said, sitting up a bit to look at him. “Everyone else had to go back. Your mom... Sam. I told you, I have nowhere else to be but here. I wasn’t going to leave you to fight alone.”

Dean looked at her, shaking his head with a  smile growing on his lips. He brushed her hair behind her ear with his fingers. “You’re something else, Emerson Maklen.”

“You already knew that.”

“I must’ve forgot, because this... I dunno, this feels new.”

She had an unbelievable urge to kiss him in that moment. To hear the heart monitor on his finger send his pulse leaping. She wanted to feel him smile against her mouth and pull her closer, but there was time. Looking at Dean awake and smiling, laying in his arms, it felt like they had all the time in the world, so she laid her head back on his chest. “It’s not new.” She murmured.

They laid like that, her head on his chest, and his arms wrapped around her for what seemed like a life time.

They listened to the beeps of the monitors like rain on a tin roof. Emerson was so used to the sounds of the room, the chatter of doctors and nurses, the lights and beeps, the drips of his IV that it was almost soothing to her. She closed her eyes and thought that maybe; just maybe things would finally work out. After everything they’d been through it felt easy, it felt so damn easy. It felt like it was always like that, and would always be like that.

Emerson thought seriously then about telling him. She thought out the words in her head to say everything she’d wanted to say all those times that she held back, because there was love and then there was her and Dean. There wasn’t a name for it, and she was thankful that there wasn’t a monitor showing her heartbeat. It was flying away, a fluttering bird against her ribcage. She was desperate to know if he felt it, too.

She opened her mouth to tell him, to take the leap, the risk, because they were worth it. She opened her mouth to tell him, and his arm that rested on her hip fell limp next to her. She thought he’d fallen asleep at first, until she heard the endless beepof the monitor flat-lining.

It all happened so fast, in a blur. She sat up and saw his lips turning blue-gray. She blinked at him and before she could process, a team pushed into the room. A nurse removed her from the bed and another started CPR. They pushed on his chest hard, rhythmically. Emerson knew CPR. She learned for her mom, but yet she didn’t. It didn’t even occur to her. She just sat there, useless. “What happened?” She found herself asking. She wasn’t even crying. She was in shock.

“Somebody get her out of here!”

Emerson was pulled out, fingers wrapping around her biceps, taking her back out into the hallway. The door clicked shut, and she fell to the floor, her back pressed against the wall.

He had a Pulmonary Embolism. He threw a clot in his leg, and it caused cardiac arrest. His heart stopped right as Emerson was memorizing the sound of it beating. His heart stopped, and she just stared at him like an idiot. She couldn’t bring herself to call Sam and tell him that she felt Dean die. She couldn’t tell him that she felt his life leave his body.

Thankfully, for her, she didn’t have to. The staff got his heart back beating and started him on medication to dissolve the clot. He was sedated again. They called Mary, and she called Sam.

It felt like the pirate ship ride at Happy Fun Land. It was a massive boat with benches that swung back and forth. The higher it swung, the more the patrons felt like they were falling. Emerson lost her stomach. She felt like she was swinging higher and higher. She worried she would hit the stars and disappear. It was an eternal swing at the hospital. The moment it looked like things were evening out, it would swing the opposite way again. She wanted to get off the fucking ride.

Ophelia, Sam, and Mary arrived at the hospital later that night, but Emerson still felt impossibly alone.

Dean woke up two days later, but when Emerson asked Dr. Ramsey if she could see him, he informed her that Dean didn’t want visitors. He was back in the ICU, and he removed everyone’s name from his approved visitor list. Even Sam. He wanted to be alone.

“I don’t understand.” Emerson’s voice cracked. “I’ve been here the whole time… Why doesn’t he want me there now?”

Dr. Ramsey sighed, and he took Emerson’s hand. It was a kindness, but it felt more like a betrayal. “He doesn’t remember much from the last month, if anything at all. He was very out of it from all of the medication. We were prepared for that possibility.”

They’d discussed it before, but to call her prepared was a bit of an exaggeration.

“But he was awake…”

“I know this is difficult, but this was his decision. It’s not uncommon for short term memory loss after a major cardiac episode.”

“Will he ever remember?” She asked, her heart sinking through her chest, and stomach into the floor.

“There’s always a possibility, but it’s unlikely. I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nowhere else for me to be but here.” Emerson grabbed her bag and walked out of the hospital, not turning back no matter how much she wanted to.

-26 Days After-

“I understand.” Emerson said softly, staring back out into space. It was impossible to see the city scape in the darkness.

“I don’t think you do. Just because she was there then doesn’t mean she didn’t throw everything away. Doesn’t mean I owe her...”

“You don’t owe me, either. I wasn’t there, after all.”

“That isn’t what this is about.” He sighed. “This is coming out all wrong.”

“Things usually happen the way they’re supposed to, Dean. It isn’t a coincidence that she’s here, it can’t be.” Emerson said, trying to lean into the idea that her distance was from Lisa. She wished it was that simple.

“The universe is a sick fuck, that’s all.”

“That’s one thing we can agree on.”

“Let’s not let it ruin this.”

“It already has.” She murmured into the breeze.

—————

Chapter Eighteen

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[itsmkjones]

Imagine: A Long Drive With Sam

Content: Fluff

Reader x Sam

The long stretch of midnight road reached into the velvety distance with no interruption. Intermittently, street lamps set soft golden spot lights on the wet tarmac. The ambient radiance barely illuminated the surrounding area, but gave just enough way to show the looming silhouette of the giant trees hedging the highway. Constant Northwest rain cascaded upon the car in waves with gentle persistence. The soothing drum of the drops against the metal roof lilt just above the soft rock humming through the cabin.

You covered a yawn, head snuggled against the chilled pain of glass. The faint issue of your breath whispered along the window creating thin streaks of fog that disappeared before you could inhale. A draft of mild heat reached your cheeks from the vent despite the setting being adjusted to the floor.The tight natural cold of the air cloaking the car mingled with the inner warmth creating a thick blanket of comfort that leadened your eyelids and sapped the strength from your body. This time the height of your yawn drew the attention of the equally silent driver.

“How much longer till we get to where Dean was zapped?” You asked deciding to break the quiet.

“Still a day or so.” Sam swallowed, his voice stuck to his throat with the length of silence weighing it down.

You hummed in response, echoing his hushed reply. “Why Canada? You’d think the angels would be polite enough to observe our inconveniences.”

Sam’s lips tightened, head pulling back in a single show of amusement. A street light flitted through the cabin, touching his features in a fleeting instance. You soaked in the moment. Elbow propped on the door, he absently rubbed his forefinger of his upper lip, thumb trading off to trace the straight line of his jaw. His amber eyes fixed into the void beyond, unknowingly exposing his penchant for musing over troubled thoughts privately. You traced the muscular lines of his forearms exposed by his hastily rolled back flannel sleeves. His strong hand fell over the top of the steering wheel loosely, long fingers dangling without strength as he kept the wheel steady with the heel of his hand.

The gentle rocking of the car spurred another yawn. Your muscles tightened, trembling slightly before relaxing, letting blood rush into your limbs only inviting another lengthy yawn. Sam glanced towards you in concern. His lips parted slightly, but before he could speak you unfastened your seatbelt and lay across the bench nestling your head on his thigh. He froze beneath you, then shifted ever so gently. Your bent legs leaned against the back rest comfortably.

“Is this okay?” You hummed not bothering to open your eyes.

“Ye-yeah.”

You smiled picturing his surprise.

“Are… are you comfortable?” A note of fluster laced his tone as he awkwardly moved both hands to the steering wheel attempting to find the best way to position himself.

“Very.” You purred flipping inward on the seat, forehead pressing against his hip. “You have a very comfy lap.”

“Go-good.” He swallowed, “I’m- glad.”

A radio classic filled the conversation end. Laying in a satisfying still, you absorbed the ambience. The lilting duet of rain and music, the rock of the long highway, cradled body and mind as the tender tendrils of heat curled around your skin.The scent of pine seeping into the cabin from the shadow forest damned the Impala’s musk of aged leather, but neither reached your nose when you snuggled closer Sam’s body. You focused on his mild scent, a bright, but earthy tone that brought sunshine to your mind. You were nearly captive to the greedy grasp of sleep when a gentle touch caressed your temple. Lightly, tenderly, Sam’s long fingers brushed the hair from temple to the spot behind your ear, just before your nape. He continued his soft ministrations, with slow deliberation, letting the strands of your hair slip between each finger. Your brows pinched together unable to smother the reverence at the supernal gesture. Bound by the euphoria, you struggled to stay awake, intent on parsimoniously absorbing every ounce of the feeling. But, Sam’s fingers wove the seduction of sleep into your consciousness, until you dreamt of his touch against your temple, then tipped into the nullity of contented emptiness.

[lunahaunted]

Oh my god, I finally hit 400 reads on Lullaby! Thank you all! Now it's time to do a little happy dance and then get back to writing.

[trashcanband4]

Imagine Slow Dancing With Sam

Title: Dancing the Stress Away.

Pairing: SamxOc

Summary: Sam finds a way to help her relax.

Word Count: 1,014

Warnings: None. It’s just simple fluff.

A/N: I kinda found this to be boring, but hey. I was sleepy, saw an imagine prompt and this happened.

 The boom box in her room played mundane slow music as she sat at the desk in her room in the bunker. A journal sat open on the dark woods as she wrote down the details of her last hunt. It had been a hard, emotional case. She had been hunting a rougarou and since it had procreated she had to turn a woman into not only a widow, but a bereaved parent as well.

 The weight of the case still weighed heavily on her shoulders and when Sam walked by her open door she caught his eye. She had recently showered so her wet black hair hung down her back in relaxed ringlets. The water from her hair soaked into the back of the plain black shirt she was wearing. It was easy to see how stiff her shoulders were under the thin fabric. That and the fact that she sat straight backed, instead of slouching like she usually did, told him that she was more stressed than a rubber band stretched to the verge of snapping.

 So without announcing his presence in any way other than making his footsteps loud, he walked over and placed his hands on her rock hard shoulders. She jumped, not having heard him despite his attempt to be obvious. “It’s just me.” he said with a quiet laugh.

 She sighed when he started working his big hands into her tense muscles. “Oh…That feels good.” She sighed, letting her head fall forward.

 Sam was glad that she couldn’t see the slightest blush that crept to his cheeks. “Good.” He said with a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “You looked like you could use it. Hard case?”

 “The hardest.” She almost whispered and Sam could tell by the tinge of sadness in her voice that she wasn’t exaggerating.

 He surprised her when he stopped massaging then gripped her shoulders and used them to spin her around in the swivel chair. “Come here.” He said flat faced as he held out his hand for hers.

 “What?” she asked incredulously.

 “You heard me.” he said, giving her a small, very Sam-like smirk. “Take my hand.”

 “No.” she said with a roll of her blue eyes then tried to turn back to the desk, but he held onto the back of the chair, not letting her move. “What are you doin’, Sam?” She asked, getting aggravated with him.

 “Would you just trust me” he asked, giving her his famous puppy dog eyes.

 Fortunately for him, she couldn’t resist that look no matter how sour of a mood she was in. “Ugh, fine.” She grunted as she slapped her hand into his.

 He pulled her up while simultaneously turning up the slow song. When it was at a comfortable volume he pulled her to him then let go of her to place her right hand on his left shoulder. she just watched with quizzical eyes as he placed his left hand on the subtle curve of her waist and grabbed her left hand in his right. He gave her a toothy grin as they started moving in time with the music.

 “What are we doin’?” she asked flatly, not smiling back.

 “Wow that case really did drain you huh?” he said with a tilt of his head. “We’re dancing.”

 “Yeah, I can see that, Smartass. What I meant was why/” she asked and Sam could tell by the playfulness in her voice when she called him a smartass that she was already starting to loosen up.

 “Because you’re stressed. You need to relax and I know you like to dance, so…” he said with a shoulder shrug. He gave her another toothy smile before he gave her waist a push. Laughter left her lips as he spun her. her hair flying behind her before she crashed back into his chest.

 As she pressed her face into his chest he placed his hand back on her side, now gripping her hip. They swayed back and forth like that, their feet not even really moving for the remainder of the song.

 When the song ended she pulled her face from his warm chest and looked up at him with a small smile. “Thanks, Sam.”

 He smiled almost shyly down at her. “You’re welcome.” As he brushed her hair behind her ear, she caught his hand in hers so that she was now holding both of his hands. He gave her a questioning look as she looked down at their entangled fingers then brought them up to her lips. He sighed as she lightly brushed her soft lips over his knuckles. When she moved her blue eyes up to meet his hazels, it wasn’t hard to see the lust veiling them.

 So without a second thought he pressed his lips to hers, gripped her hips and lifted her. She squealed and giggled as she wrapped her legs around his tall frame. He walked blindly until his felt his shins hit her bed, and then laid her back easing down over her as he did.

 “Ugh. Learn to shut the door.” Dean’s voice made them break apart to breathily look up at him standing in the doorway of her room.

 “Dean, do you mind?” Sam asked, not moving.

 “Do I mind getting my eyes burned out on the way to my room? Yes.” He answered, not going away. If Dean was being honest with himself, it wasn’t the position he was seeing his brother in that burned his eyes. There wasn’t even any skin showing, so it wasn’t that. But what bothered him and caused him to speak up was the fact that Sam was making out with her. He had been hoping to make a move on her, but hadn’t found the right moment.

 Sam scoffed as he got up and walked over to the door. “Good night, Dean.” He said before he slammed the door in Dean’s face.

 Sam rolled his eye as he turned back to see her giggling. He silenced her giggles when he pressed his lips to hers.

[themoonandotherslikeit]

The Hand That Reaches for God -Chapter 15

Warnings: Mention of rape 

Chapter Fifteen

“Nothing haunts us like the things we don’t say.” - Mitch Alborn

-18 Days After-

in books and movies, when two people fall in love everything falls into places like dominoes in a perfect line. No tile falls before the one proceeding it, and they all make a perfect picture. That’s what it was like for Pheli and Sam. They fell into place effortlessly.

Her legs rested over his as they sat with their backs against a log facing the fire. He had an arm around her, and his fingers drummed against her arm to the music.

“That was bad, don’t you think?” She asked against his neck, placing a kiss below his ear.

“What was?” Sam asked absentmindedly watching the fire.

“Lisa.” She hissed.

“Oh.” He sighed. “That.”

“Yeah, that.”

“She really did a number on Dean.”

Ophelia looked at Sam and put her finger under his chin, prompting him to look at her. “Do you think he still has feelings for her?”

“I don’t know.” Sam said with a sigh.

“Things have just seemed to be going well for him and Emerson...”

“Hey.” Sam said, taking her hand in his. “It’ll work out. He’s always had a torch for Em. We just need to let them work it out.”

Pheli poked out her bottom lip instinctively. “I know, but she’s my sister. I want to protect her.”

“I know you do.” He kissed her hair. “But they’re adults. We shouldn’t meddle.”

“You’re no fun.”

“Tell me about it.” He grinned widely at her, before humming along to whatever song Benny was singing.

Ophelia’s eyes locked on her sister. Emerson sat next to a guy that Pheli had yet to meet, she looked relaxed with a beer in her hand. She knew Sam was right, but it didn’t stop her from wanting to smack Dean silly for letting her walk away. When it’s real you don’t walk away. Didn’t he have a romantic bone in his body?

Sam leaned over to Benny and whispered something too low for Pheli to hear.

“Sure, brother.” Benny responded before starting up a new song.

Her ears perked up, and she turned to look at her boyfriend, who was grinning ear to ear. “You didn’t.”

“Turns out he takes requests.”

“You are so lame.”

“You love me.”

“I do.” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed Sam right on the lips. She knew that no matter what happened, Sam wouldn’t walk away from her. He wouldn’t be the one leaving.

“I’m accidentally in love.” Sam sang softly against her lips, holding his palm against her cheek.

-4 Years Before-

“Come on, Phel. This is our chance. It’s not too late for her to get another room mate.”

“No, Samuel! Do I have to say it a thousand times?” Ophelia asked, turning back to the truck that they were using to move into the dorms. The couple was having a stare off. Her arms were crossed tightly at her chest, and Sam’s hands were in his pockets. Despite his height, he wasn’t nearly intimidating enough to ever win against her.

“I just...” He sighed and took her fingers in his hands. “We have been together for a long time... it’s time for us to take the next step, don’t you think?”

Pheli melted a little, loosening her arms so he could take her hand properly. “You know I want to live with you.”

“Then do it!” He whined.

“Sam I can’t. Em and I have always been together. She needs me, you know? I can’t just abandon her for a guy.”

“I’m not just a guy.”

“I know you aren’t, honey, that isn’t what I’m saying.”

“I know it’s not.” He sighed, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. He kissed the top of her head. “I knew what I was getting into when I asked you out. The Maklen twins were always a package.”

She kissed the base of his throat. “It won’t be forever. Eventually she will find someone that she wants to live with...”

Sam pulled back a bit to capture her lips in his. “Don’t tell me that’s why you wanted her and Dean together so badly.”

She laughed humorlessly. “You aren’t the only one dating someone codependent, Sam. I figured the two of them and the two of us would be... I don’t know? Magical isn’t the right word...”

“Convenient?”

Pheli cracked a smile and nodded. “Yeah, that is the word.”

“Can lead a horse to water, but you can’t make him drink, Phel.”

“I really don’t appreciate that metaphor, Sam.”

“Sorry.”

“It was all going fine until Dean had to disappear into the fucking night.” She complained, pulling away from the hug to grab her bag from the back of the truck. “Emerson won’t even acknowledge that there was ever anything going on, but I’m not blind, you know?”

“She probably just needs time.” Sam said with a wince. “I know I do.”

“I’m sorry.” Pheli sighed. “I didn’t mean to bring it up like that. Have you heard from him?”

“Gotten some letters.”

“Good. At least he’s writing someone.”

Sam grabbed a box and smiled at her. “Emerson’s a great girl, she won’t be alone forever. I know it would’ve been cool if her and Dean would’ve worked out, trust me. I want him to be happy, but not everyone finds their soulmate when they’re in high school.”

“I guess not.” She said sadly, before kissing him again. “Maybe not everyone is this lucky.”

“The odds of winning the lottery are pretty low, Phel.” He grinned, two dimples making an appearance on his cheek.

She poked one and let herself smile. “Let’s go. I’m sure Em thinks we hid out somewhere to have sex.”

“Maybe we should live up to that stereotype.”

“Shh, you.” Pheli pointed at him with a warning.

He laughed brightly and the couple walked away from the truck, toward the dorms, and into a new chapter.

****

“You didn’t have to kick Sam out.” Emerson said, hanging up her clothes in the closet.

“Sure I did.” Pheli said, organizing her makeup on her desk. “This is our first night on our own. Our first night of freedom! No boys allowed, just the Maklen sister’s against the world!” She spun dramatically in her desk chair.

“Looks like you have a lot of expectations for tonight.”

“I do.”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Anything... everything!”

Emerson smiled at her sister, but behind her dark eyes was a deeper longing that Pheli knew that she wouldn’t be able to fill. “I don’t know, Phel. Maybe you should call Sam. I’m tired, and I have a lot of unpacking to do.”

“So let’s unpack.” She said quickly, fumbling in her bag. She pulled out a bottle of vodka and shook it. “We can make a drinking game out of it!”

“As tempting as that is.” Emerson said with a sour face, her upper lip curled and her nose wrinkling.

“Come on, Em. I know you’re sad but...”

“I’m not sad.” She cut Pheli off. “I’m tired. I told you. I just... I want to get settled in. We’re starting over. I just need a night.”

Pheli looked at her sister. Her shoulders were tight and her eyes looked swollen from lack of sleep. Her blonde hair was tossed lazily into a bun on top of her head. “Okay. We can put on some movies and unpack? Order in?”

Emerson smiled, letting out a sigh of relief. “That’d be great.”

“Why don’t you go on a coffee run, and I’ll find all the best DVD’s?”

“Sure.” Em said, grabbing her purse. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Sounds good.” She gave her sister a thumbs up as the door latched behind her.

She knew the DVD’s were in one of Emerson’s boxes, and she lowered herself to the floor so she could start rifling through them. The first box seemed to be all clothes, so she pushed it away. The second had books on top, so it seemed like a possible option. She moved the first few books away and squinted as a white envelope fell out of one of the books. “What...”

It was a letter from Dean. The fold lines were perfectly preserved, despite the fact that it’d obviously been read dozens of times at least. “He wrote to you after all.” She said, carefully unfolding the page. She knew it was a complete invasion of privacy, but she couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t put on the breaks for long enough to talk herself out of it.

Em,

Shit, I don’t know what to say. I’m on the bus to Basic Training. A fucking bus, and all I can think about is the sky. I’m sure it sounds weird, but hear me out, okay? I’m lookin out the window, and we are in the middle of nowhere so there are hundreds of stars. It looks like glitter was just thrown onto a piece of black paper. You should see this sky, Em. I never really realized how many stars there were. I knew, well of course I knew that there were a lot, but it never really clicked before now. Sometimes I think it takes me a little longer to get things, maybe I got hit one too many times growing up.

We are under the same sky, Em. You and me. When I look at the moon I’m gonna always think about you lookin up at it, too. What’s it look like there? I had to have seen it a million times, but fuck if I remember it now. I’m always lettin things pass me by. Maybe I’ll stop doing that. I know it ain’t fair for me to do that now of all times, but I can still think it. I probably never really saw the sky when I was home. I looked, sure, but I don’t think I ever saw it. I wanna see it now. Just tell me it’s not too late. Please. I’ve gotta know I didn’t fuck it all up.

I keep thinkin about last night on the roof. I should’ve... I guess it doesn’t matter what I should’ve done. It only matters what I did, and I’m sorry, Em. I’m always lettin you down, and you’re the best person I know. I don’t want to let you down anymore. I wanna be stable, like the moon and those stars. They’re always there, ya know? Whether we can see them or not.

Dean

Pheli held the letter to her chest. Emerson never told her about it. She looked back down at it, before folding it carefully and placing it back in the pages of the book. She wanted to know if she wrote him back, if there were more letters hidden somewhere. Turned out there was a romantic bone in Dean’s body and it was a damn good one. That was a love letter. It was poetic and beautiful, and Pheli found herself a little jealous. She couldn’t believe, after everything, that Em would keep it to herself.

Her head shot up when Emerson unlocked the door to their dorm. “Hey, good news, there’s a coffee cart really close. We really got the good dorm.” She said brightly before stopping in her tracks. “Phel? Shit, are you okay?”

Pheli didn’t realize that there was a tear rolling down her cheek until Emerson knelt down to wipe it. “I’m... I want you to be happy, no matter what.”

“Hey.” Emerson said with a smile. “I am happy. We are at college. A fresh start, right?”

“But is that what you want? You want to start all over?”

Emerson’s eyes flickered down to the book in Pheli’s hands and up to her eyes. She looked into the eyes of her sister’s. It was much like looking into her own. “We have to keep moving forward.” She said, finally. “All going backwards can do it hurt.”

“You’re sure?”

She gave Pheli a single nod. “Yeah. I’m sure.”

“Okay.” She said, placing the book back into the box. “Now which box is Pretty in Pink in because I need Molly Ringwald in my life now.”

“Over here.” Emerson smiled gratefully. “The box that’s labeled movies.”

Pheli raised an eyebrow. “Labels. That’s really smart, college girl. I’ve got a lot to learn from you.”

“Let’s start with coffee and go from there.”

“Deal.”

-18 Days After-

“Let’s call it a night.” Sam said with a yawn. “Dean’s been alone at the tree too long, I’m sure I’ll be sleeping in the dirt. He’s a notorious bed hog.”

“Aw, you miss sleeping with me?”

“I miss sleeping with you the moment we get out of bed.”

“You’re too cute for your own good.” She placed a kiss on his chin.

“So I’ve been told.”

“I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Count on it.” He gave her one more peck before jogging back over to his brother, whose back was now to the campfire.

Pheli stretched and walked toward the tent, passing the guy who was sitting with Emerson, who she knew now was Gordon Walker. He avoided her look as she passed him, and her skin ran cold in response. Her stomach twisted as she pushed through the flaps of the tent.

Emerson laid on her side with her back facing Pheli. Even in the low light she could make out the red that came out from under her sisters blanket. “Oh my god.” She rushed to her sister, kneeling down. “Em?”

She opened her eyes to face Pheli. She looked completely broken. Her face was wilted and her bottom lip trembled. She was impossibly small, like a child. Her lips were swollen along with the skin under her eyes. “What did that motherfucker do to you?” She asked, holding Emerson’s face.

She propped herself up, wiping snot off her face with the back of her hand. She gripped the sheets in her lap. “Nothing.”

“We should get you checked out... you’re bleeding...”

Emerson looked up, meeting her sisters eyes. “I’m fine. Everything is fine.”

There was something unspoken between the twins. Their mother was convinced that they were telepathic. That they spoke inside of their minds. That moment was no exception. Pheli read her sister loud and clear.

She took her sisters hand. “Can we sleep together tonight? I’m scared, and I don’t want to sleep alone.”

“Of course.” Emerson said, and Pheli stood slowly, helping her sister up. Em stood on shaking legs, exposing wet blood on the inside of her thighs. Ophelia’s jaw set tightly.

“I can’t wait for a bath. I heard they have some kind of set up here. It’ll be nice.”

“Yeah.” Emerson agreed as they both rested on Pheli’s small pallet. They laid nose to nose under the blanket. Her hands where on Emerson’s hips protectively.

“I’m here for you.” She whispered into the darkness.

“I know.”

He is going to pay. She thought angrily.

“Phel?” Em asked, her voice barely a breath. “Don’t tell him.”

“He cares about you, Em. I can tell he does.”

“Just... don’t tell him.” Her voice broke and it took her a few moments of silence to get her breathing controlled again.

“I won’t. Okay? I promise I won’t.” Pheli hugged her sister closer, letting Emerson bury her face in her neck.

They had separate beds since they were out of their crib, but no matter how old they were they always ended up in the same bed, pressed together like when they were in the womb. It was comforting. It slowed their heart rates and made them calm. It helped them sleep.

There was no sleep for Pheli that night. Her eyes were still glued on her sleeping sister when Castiel and Meg stumbled into the tint, trying their best to be quiet, and they were open still when the morning sun bled in through the flaps in the tent.

-25 Days After-

They were getting into the swing of things at the camp. It was a fortress against evil with large gates and bolts that required keys and a security badge to open. If Emerson talked to Dean, she didn’t tell her sister about it. As far as Pheli was concerned they weren’t even on the same hemisphere.

Emerson was different. She didn’t have to tell Pheli what happened for her to know, and Gordon had done the smart thing and stayed the fuck away. Castiel went on a supply run midweek and came across some materials to fashion the girls a small tent. Sam and Dean were bunking with Garth and Benny. Sam’s feet stuck out of the end of the tent, and although not ideal, it was better than nothing.

The two sisters took up running once Pheli’s ankle was healed. The running seemed to help Emerson. After a run she would smile and look up. They were getting stronger. They’d soon get an assignment to help around camp. There hadn’t been any Rogues in sight since they’d came to the camp, and that was enough for Pheli to make it feel like home.

“You’re getting fast.” Emerson panted, with her hands on her knees. They’d just finished a run around camp. They were still slow, but Pheli was picking up on it quickly and getting better every day.

“I was made to run!” She teased, wiping sweat off her forehead. “I’m going to go see if I can get us some lunch. Meet back at the tent?”

“Sounds good.” Emerson said with a nod, her head still practically between her knees.

Pheli turned and used the rest of her energy to jog toward the main building, next to the medical one. That’s where they sorted through food and determined meals.

“Hey!”

Shit.

“Slow down Sonic, Jesus.” Dean said, grabbing her shoulder.

Pheli turned, elbowing him in the jaw. “Oh my god, Dean!?” Her hands flew to her mouth. 

“Damn, Rocky.” He said, rubbing where she hit him.

“Sorry, you snuck up on me.”

“Remind me to announce myself by name next time.”

“Hey.” Pheli snapped. “It’s never been safe for women, now especially. Those self defense classes are finally going to pay off.”

“I’d like to see a Rogue try to take you on. You’d knock their head clean off with that elbow.” He said with a wide grin.

“Very funny.”

“I thought so.”

“I’m leaving now.” She said, turning on her heels.

“Wait.” He said, quietly, desperately.

“What?” She glanced over her shoulder.

“Em won’t see me. I’ve tried. When I walk toward her she runs in the other direction. I want to give her space...”

“So give it to her.”

“I want to. I’m just worried.”

“You seem really worried when you’re hanging out with Lisa.”

“I didn’t ask her to... this isn’t about Lisa. Things are over between us. They have been for a long time.” Dean said, running his fingers through his hair. It was getting shaggy. “I just wanna talk to her.”

“I’ll tell her you were asking. I just don’t think she’s ready.” Pheli said, her heart aching for Dean and for her sister. She didn’t want things to be over for them. They seemed happy.

“Thanks.” He said, and he watched her go.

Love was a fickle thing. It causes weak knees, and yet it expects you to stand. Pheli suspected that was why there were two people involved in love. They can help each other stay upright. Maybe that’s why it was called falling. Emerson was out on a tightrope teetering and threatening to fall with no promise of a net below. Pheli was doing her best, but she suspected that nothing would change until they got away from Gordon.

She pushed into the kitchen area, and right into a meeting. Everyone turned and looked at her. “Sorry.” She said, raising a hands “Don’t mean to interrupt.”

“Why not?” Someone complained, glancing back at her. “It is your fault. We have four more mouths to feed. We are running out of food! We need to do another run.”

“It’s too dangerous.” Castiel said through gritted teeth. “We need to take space between our runs so the Rogues can disperse. We don’t want them catching our location.”

“It won’t matter if they find us if we are starved!” Someone else chimed in.

“This isn’t up for discussion.” Castiel snapped.

“Who made you God?!”

“I’ll go, Cas. You know I can take down those motherfuckers.” Gordon said, standing with a sneer.

“Me too.” Pheli chimed in before she could stop herself. “You’re right, it was my group that added more people to feed. We want to pull our weight. I’ll go with Gordon.”

He turned to her with narrowed eyes and she smiled at him wickedly.

“Fine.” Castiel said with a sigh. “I’ll get another pair of volunteers and you’ll go out tomorrow at sunrise.”

“Aye aye captain.” She said turning to leave. She pushed out into the heat of the Summer day, her heart pounding.

What did I just do?

Seeing him stand up there in front of her completely unphased by what he’d done made Pheli see red. Her heart was pounding in her ears, and she was ready to lose it. The idea of being alone with him was enough to cause her impulse to jump into action before she could realize that she was going to be out in the field with the Rogues and with a known rapist.

She closed her eyes and pressed her palms to her knees to catch her breath. Sam was going to kill her. Emerson was going to kill her. She couldn’t tell either of them. They’d try to stop her, and that was her once chance to confront him. She needed to make things right for her sister. If they were going to stay there, they needed to feel safe. Sam always told her that she shouldn’t interfere, that she shouldn’t put her nose in her sisters business, but she couldn’t stop. It wasn’t in her. She knew that when she loved someone she wouldn’t stop fighting for them. Especially when they couldn’t fight for themselves.

-4 Years Ago-

Dear Dean,

I am not supposed to be writing this. It’s inappropriate, but I can’t stop my pen, so here we are. Em didn’t share with me the letter you sent to her, and I think it’s because she’s scared.

There’s a risk when you fall in love. When you care for someone you give them a piece of yourself and you trust them not to hurt you. I don’t know what happened between both of you, but I’m asking you to not give up on her. Because you’re right, Dean, the moon is always there. No matter what you do. No matter how many times it hides behind clouds or shadow. It’s even there when the sun is out. If what you feel is like the moon, then it won’t go away just because you want it to. It won’t go away just because she asked you to.

I guess what I’m saying is, the sky looks beautiful, Dean. It’s a little dull right now, but the stars will sparkle again. Sometimes it just takes time, and it’s worth the wait. Trust me.

Ophelia Maklen

—————

Chapter Sixteen

Get caught up!

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@purpleskiesandcherrypies

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[themoonandotherslikeit]

The Hand That Reaches for God -Chapter 16

Warnings: Mention of rape, graphic violence, and language. 

Chapter Sixteen

“So we drove on toward death through the cooling twilight.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald

-26 Days After-

The morning was cool for June as Ophelia snapped her thigh holster in place. She slid her hand gun into place. She hoisted her shotgun over her shoulder and stuck her blade in her boot. She didn’t like guns, but after her last run in with the Rogues she wasn’t in a position to deny the necessity. Plus, she’d never felt so badass in her life. She left Emerson asleep, hugging her pillow, and made sure to give Sam a really big kiss goodnight. She left him breathless. His love wasn’t lost on her. She could tell that their hearts beat together every time he looked at her.

He wouldn’t approve of her going out in the field, but it wasn’t about him and her, it was about Emerson. At the end of the day it was the Maklen sisters. If they had to pick, it would always be each other. She had to do it for her sister.

Pheli leaned against the tree, waiting for the rest of the group. She sipped her coffee out of her canteen, and focused on the colors in the sky as the sun teased the horizon.  

“Well, Hell in a hand basket, you showed up after all.”

“Ash.” Pheli said with a smile. “Morning.”

“We had a bet runnin that you wouldn’t show up.” He flipped the bottom of his mullet over his shoulder.

She rolled her eyes. “And whys that?”

He shrugged. “Gender bias, probably.”

Ash was a serious genius. He didn’t look like much in his cut off flannel and mullet, but he went to MIT before it all went to shit. He made the water filter system in the camp and was solely responsible for the gate around the community. He was damn fun at get togethers, too. The first night by the fire he ended up buddying up with her and Sam singing along with Benny. He made a genuine fool out of himself, and that made him okay in Pheli’s book.

“So fucked up.”

“Agreed.” He said, adjusting his machete on his shoulder. “Let’s head to the Jeep. Gordon’s probably already there.”

“Who else is coming?” She asked as they began their walk to the gate where the Jeep was parked.

Ash shrugged, walking with a bit of a bounce in his step. “Hell if I know. People don’t tell me shit. Always be underestimated, Blondie. When you are, it’s really easy to surprise people.” He offered her a wide grin.

“I know exactly what you mean.” She said smoothly.

Her hair was in two braids down her back to keep her hair out of the way. There were no flowers in them that day. There was no time for glitter and pleasantries.

Ash was right. Gordon was already in the front seat, tapping the steering wheel impatiently. “Shot gun!” Ash called with a wide grin, breaking out into a funny, wobbling jog to the Jeep.

Pheli rolled her eyes and picked up her speed. She opened the back door and slid in.

“Surprised you made it.” Gordon grunted from the front seat.

“Lots of that going around.” She said, shifting her weight to keep her knife from digging into her calf.

The door to her right opened up and Dean slid in next to her, wearing a wide ear-to-ear grin. “Ready to go!”

Pheli started at him her heart rate leaping at the sight of him. “What the fuck are you doing here?” She hissed through clenched teeth.

“Cas mentioned your heroic volunteering. Couldn’t let you have all the fun.”

“Did you tell Sam?”

“And let him try to follow you? No fucking way.” Dean laughed breathlessly. He reached forward and patted Gordon’s arm, causing Pheli to flinch instinctively. “Come on, Buddy. Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Ash?” Gordon asked, starting the Jeep.

Ash leaned forward and pressed a garage door opener, causing the gates to spring to life. They opened with a creak and a groan. “Outward and onward.”

Gordon pulled out of the camp and headed back toward the city. “We don’t have many more runs to Dallas. It’s about picked dry.”

“And overrun.” Ash agreed.

“So.” Dean said, leaning close to Pheli. “What’s this about?”

“I wanted to wear the cute thigh holster.” She said, deadpanned.

“Oh, sure. Of course.” He said, not sounding at all convinced.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, before he poked her leg.

“God, what?”

“I go by Dean, actually.”

Pheli glared at him. “Was this your plan all along? Trap me in the backseat so I can’t run from you? You want to ask about her. We just talked yesterday. I said...”

“You said you’d talk to her. Did you?”

“She isn’t ready, Dean.”

“Isn’t ready for what?” He asked, weakly. “If you haven’t noticed the world is ending.” He said, gesturing to the wreckage outside the Jeep. “We are on sort of limited time here.”

Pheli sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose. “It’s not my place to tell you. It’s hers, if she wants to.” She said low enough for only him to hear it.

In the front seat Ash sang along to some old cassette tape that was jammed in the Jeep’s radio. It was loud enough to drown them out. She just hoped Gordon wasn’t paying attention.

“I don’t wanna lose her again.”

“You two are so fucking frustrating, you know?”

“Try being a part of it.” He said with a dry laugh, scratching the back of his head.

“We need to cut your hair.”

“What? The long hair is only cute on Sam?” He teased.

“Yes actually.”

“Hurtful, Phel. You’ve got a mean streak. Who would’ve known?”

Gordon turned down the radio and glanced at Dean and Pheli in the rear view mirror. “We are approaching our drop point. We will split in groups of two. Ash has maps of the places around the block that need to be searched and what’s expected to be found in each place. We have a list of supplies that we need, but if you see anything worthwhile grab it. And Ash that doesn’t include skin mags and more ball caps.”

“You have to have culture to have a functioning society, Gordon, you snob.” Ash complained.

“Everyone has been issued a watch. We are staying an hour. That means that when we exit the Jeep, it will be rolling out in sixty minutes. With or without all of us, so make sure you’re back and buckled in before that hour is up. If not, I hope you’re a good runner, because you’ll be footing it back to camp. Keep your guard up, and try not to shoot unless you have to. Sound attracts them. Any questions?”

“Just one.” Pheli said, leaning around the seat.

“What is it?”

“I want to team up with you.”

Gordon shrugged. “Fine.”

“Aw, my ego is fucking bruised, sister.” Dean complained.

“Don’t sister me, Winchester.”

“Alright get your fucking head in the game team.” Gordon said, pulling into downtown. Ash handed the maps along with the packs that were required to make the run.

“Everyone has the same list.” Ash explained. “Just get what you can. Use common sense and you’ll be fine.” He offered a smile before the Jeep rolled to a stop.

“Sixty minutes.” Gordon said, making eye contact with Ophelia in the mirror. “Let’s go.”

****

Emerson stretched out in bed, reaching out and missing her sisters warmth next to her. “Phel..” She groaned sleepily. When she didn’t get a response, she sat up slowly. The tent was empty.

She rubbed her eyes and stood up, still crouching so her head didn’t graze the top of the tent, and she wrapped her blanket around her. She expected to find her sister cuddled up with Sam, or getting her morning coffee. Pheli was all about her beauty sleep, but ever since the incident with Gordon neither girl was able to sleep well.

She poked her head out of the tent. The camp was quiet, still lulled in the early moments of morning.

She felt dead most of the time. Like Gordon reached up inside of her and pulled out the part of her that was human. The part of her that was alive. She wondered if it was how the Rogue’s felt. Sometimes she felt like she was on autopilot, just doing what was expected. She smiled when it was required, even though it never reached her eyes. She knew that Pheli had to see it, but she didn’t comment on it. She was giving Emerson space and that was truly all she could ask for. She’d successfully dodged Dean since that last moment that they had with Lisa. She couldn’t stand it, looking into his warm green eyes. She couldn’t have him look at her like he wanted to see the sky within her, because the fucking sky was dark. There were no more stars. There was no moon. There was nothing but darkness.

She squinted at the camp. The burning embers left in the fire showed the late night conversations had by old friends. It was the only sign that anyone lived there. Everything else was still.

She took advantage of the stillness to get some coffee and to just befor a bit. She wouldn’t have to act or pretend. She could just sit and fill the hole inside of her with black coffee and dark thoughts. She pulled her blanket tightly to her chest, closing herself into it, as she walked to the coffee cart. She didn’t care if it was last nights brew or if she had to brew it herself, she would suckle the caffeine and try to remember how to be a person, because every day that went by was harder and harder to remember how.

She reached the coffee stand, and picked up the insulated pitcher and poured into one of the available canteens.

“Pour me one?”

Her back stiffened and she turned to see Lisa standing with her baby strapped to her chest. “I was just up getting Ben back to sleep. He gets restless sometimes. A walk usually puts him right back down, but Mommy needs a pick me up.”

“Sure.” Emerson said, forcing a smile. She offered the canteen that she poured for herself. Suddenly coffee didn’t sound as good as it had before.

“Emerson, right?” She took the canteen, and gratefully sipped at it.

“That’s me.” She hugged her blanket around herself, like a protective layer.

“You came with Sam and Dean.”

“You’re observant.”

“You don’t like me much.”

“Very observant.”

Lisa shifted her weight, bouncing Ben. “You know Dean and me...”

“He’s all yours.” Emerson said quickly. “I won’t be standing in your way.” She caught a glimpse of little Bens freckled face, and she felt sick to her stomach.

“I don’t need your permission to pursue him.”

“But you’ve got it anyway.” She forced a smile. “Life is sometimes nice that way. I better get back to bed, Pheli will be looking for me.” She pushed past Lisa, trying to hold everything in. She was the little Dutch boy with her finger in the dam. Any minute now everything would come rushing out, and sweep her away.

“Emerson.” Lisa said, causing Em’s feet to plant in the dirt. She waited for whatever Lisa wanted to say. She didn’t know why. She didn’t owe the woman anything. She wasn’t the bad guy. She was backing down. What else was she expected to do? “It isn’t up to us, you know. Dean was always a complex man, but this part isn’t complicated. He either loves me or he doesn’t. There’s nothing else to it.”

Emerson smiled bitterly to herself. “If you really think that, you’re so much dumber than I thought.”

She didn’t wait for a response, and made her way back to her tent. She didn’t make it a habit of shitting on other women. It wasn’t the way she was raised. Women were allies. They had to stick together, but this time... this time was too much for her. She didn’t have the patience to rise above. She’d lost enough.

She curled up in her blankets, pulling them over her head. She sat under there, and she pulled out her bag. She dug all the way to the bottom and pulled out a notebook and her pen. It was getting close to the end of the notebook. Time had gotten away from her. She clicked the pen a few times, before flipping to an open page.

Dear Dean,

I want to go find you. I want to walk over to your tent, pull you out of bed, and shake you until you understand. I need you to understand. More than anything I need things to be different. I need all of this to not have happened. I’ve coped. Haven’t you watched me cope all this time? I got over you. (Am I seriously trying to lie? Way to go, Em) I was a kid when this all started. When I watched you walk away. But I coped. I’m still coping.

But still I want to go find you. I want to let you remind me what it feels like to be alive. He fucking hurt me, Dean. In a way a person should never have to be hurt. I thought the way that you hurt me was the worst thing I’d ever feel, but losing you... that hurt in my heart. This is different. He reached inside of me and cracked me open. He stole pieces that will not allow me to be whole ever again.

Part of me wants you to fix it. I know if I asked you to, you would crack pieces of yourself to put me back together, but what would that make me? I can’t give you what I need when I’m like this. Not when I still wake up in a cold sweat feeling his weight on me.

All I’ve ever been for you is complicated. Things have never been easy. It was never the right time. Who are we to think that this is the right time? During the fucking apocalypse, of all times. You deserve something better. You deserve what I wish I could let myself be.

I remember the night at the ocean before you left. I remember what I almost... you said you wanted it to be real. I’m not real, Dean. I’m not myself. Not anymore. I’m a shell with Emersons face. The girl you knew is dead.

I am so sorry for your loss.

Em

She closed the notebook, shutting away her letter along with dozens of others from the years that she never sent. That she never had any intention to send. The wall around her heart was complete. Brick by brick. She was a princess in a tower of her own design. A tower with no escape hatch and even when the prince came... she would not let down her hair. She would ignore his calls and pray to a god that wasn’t listening that he would go away. That he will finally leave her to her poison thoughts and shackles. That he would finally leave her alone with the greatest monster of all, herself.

****

Pheli’s bag weighed heavily on her shoulders as she climbed a set of stairs behind Gordon. They spent the first forty-five minutes finding most things on the list. She’d scored with a huge bottle of low grade pain killers and several canned goods. There was soap and clean underwear tucked in the bottom of her bag. Gifts for Emerson. After everything was over Pheli wanted to burn her old ones. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust.

Gordon wasn’t in a chatty mood. Every time Pheli tried to get him to talk to her long enough to get anything from him, he would just grunt and move on to the next aisle. She was getting really fucking tired of it.

“So where are you from, Gordon?”

“Doesn’t matter. That’s all gone now. Look for some honey. Cas likes it.”

Pheli’s eyes narrowed as he rounded a corner to of sight. He knew she was circling him.

“Is there really more stuff up this high?” She asked, gripping the railing as they ascended the stair’s, climbing higher and higher.

“There’s somethin important up here.” He grunted out.

He unlatched the door, swinging it open. His boot crunched as he passed through the threshold. She followed him, stepping into the sunlight. They were on the roof. She frowned and turned to him, watching him latch the door again, locking them up there together.

She crossed her arms. “What the fuck are you doing, Gordon?”

“I’m not stupid, Ophelia. You volunteered because you have something to say to me. So have at it.”

“You presumptuous fuck.”

“Oh so you don’t have anything to say? I sleep with your sister and you don’t care. Great. I was worried that there was something off with you two, but maybe not.”

Bile rose in Pheli’s throat. It stung and bubbled like the rage within her. “You...You...”

“I fucked her. Yeah, I know. It was okay.” He shrugged. “Can’t be too picky around here.”

“You son of a bitch. You raped her.”

“She was flirting with me all night.” He said flatly, approaching Pheli slowly enough that she wasn’t preparing against it. “What was I supposed to do?”

“Leave her alone when she said no.”

“Gotta repopulate the human race. Can’t be so picky.” He shrugged smugly.

“And you can sleep at night with that logic?”

“Like a baby.”

It was so fucking wrong. It was wrong that he didn’t feel an ounce of guilt, while Emerson cried in her sleep. It was disgusting. She didn’t feel sick anymore. Her skin was hot, and she could hear her heartbeat in her ears. It wooshed like the sound of waves at the ocean.

“You fucking men think you can do whatever you want.” She said, closing the space between them.

He reached forward, pushing a loose hair behind her ear. “We don’t think, Princess.” He leaned in to her ear. “We know.”

Something possessed Ophelia in that moment. The girl who was made of cinnamon sugar got a hint of cayenne. Something sparked in her. Maybe it was his hot breath against her neck, or the smug sound of his voice, but something overwhelmed her. It was like she was watching her body from above as she grabbed the back of his neck and slammed her forehead into his, knocking him backwards.

He was taken off guard and he stumbled. Her head pounded in response, but her adrenaline kept her moving forward, her self defense class she took in college bubbling up to the surface. She pulled back and kicked him square in the chest, her leg aching from the strain in her muscle as he fell directly on his back.

His head smacked the concrete of the roof, and he looked up at her shock present on his full lips and wide eyes. “You’re going to regret that, you bitch!”

“I already do.” She said, pressing the heel of her boot to his throat. He gasped in response. “I regret not hitting you sooner. I think you’ve seriously made me stupider since I had to listen to you talk. Is it contagious, Gordon?”

He gurgled, unable to respond due to the boot pressed firmly against his Adam’s apple. He clawed at it, but she had the upper hand. “Tsk tsk. Better not. It doesn’t take much pressure at all to break that little ball in your throat. I wonder what the survival rate of that is in a post apocalyptic world?” She smiled, saying it all a little too sweetly, as she pulled his gun off the holder on his belt. She tossed it away, and it clanked as it skipped across the ground.

She pulled her shot gun off her shoulder and loaded it, cocking it into place with a sharp click. “Get on your fucking knees, and don’t try anything funny.” She said, removing her foot.

He immediately gasped, clawing at his throat as a breath flowed back through him.

“Now, you son of a bitch. Knees!”

He complied, climbing up to his knees. She pressed the shot gun barrel to his head, directly between his eyes. “No.” He muttered between snotty tears. His hands came up in front of his chest, his palms facing her in surrender. “D...don’t do it. I’ll apologize.”

“But you aren’t sorry, Gordon. That’s the problem. People like you just take what they fucking want no matter what the cost. You hurt my sister.”

“I did.” He sobbed, his voice trembling. Clear snot rolled down out of his nose and onto his lip.

There was no satisfaction for Pheli in his tears.

“You have to pay for that Gordon.”

“You aren’t a killer, Ophelia. Don’t do this.”

She laughed, causing the barrel of the gun to tremble against his skull. The cool metal leaving an indention on his skin. “Maybe not, but there’s no law anymore. There’s no justice. There are just people and monsters. The people kill the monsters, and from the little time I’ve known you, it’s pretty obvious to me what side you’re on.”

“I’m not a monster! I... I will be a better man...I’ll...”

“It’s too late for that, Gordon.” Pheli said, a tear rolling down her cheek. “Make peace with whatever god you believe in.”

There was something tragic about the loss of innocence. The loss of faith in humanity. The loss of hope. Pheli stared down the length of her shotgun and said goodbye to the part of her that was human. Because he was right. She wasn’t a killer, but if it was between her sister and her innocence it was an easy pick.

She wouldn’t be the girl with flowers in her hair anymore, but maybe that was okay. Maybe it was time for her to retire her braids and grow the fuck up.

She pulled the gun off his skin, just back far enough.

“Please...” He begged, as her finger rested on the trigger. “I had a sister, too. I lost her. I lost her. I lost...”

Bang!

—————

Chapter Seventeen

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[themoonandotherslikeit]

The Hand That Reaches for God - Chapter 19

Warning: This chapter contains some smut there at the end! 

Chapter Nineteen

“Never forget how strong and brave you are, and how many times you have already saved yourself.” - Mark Anthony

-5 Years Before-

Emerson woke up with a start. The sun was rising over the horizon, and she was in Dean Winchester’s arms. She squinted, taking in her surroundings. They’d fallen asleep by the fire, with his fingers twisting in her hair. She never made it home the night before. She was going to be in so much trouble. “Dean,” she hissed. “Wake up.”

His eyelids fluttered, still looking unbelievably heavy. “Em?”

“Yeah, hi. Get up,” she said, pushing his arms away from her body.

“You sure know how to wake a guy,” Dean grumbled, rubbing his eyes.

“Dean,” Emerson said again, more insistent this time. She stood up frantically. “I never made it home.” She reached in her pants, pulling out her phone. Why didn’t her mom call? Or Pheli? “Fuck!” She said, as she stared at her waterlogged cell phone. She never took it out of her pocket when they jumped. “I’m so dead.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Dean said, getting to his feet. “I’ll get you there.”

“You shouldn’t have brought me here at all! I didn’t want to come!”

She wanted to believe him, but her head was spinning. She didn’t stay out all night with guys. She didn’t skip school.

Then she thought, she never did anything wrong. Apart from the occasional trip to the principal for coming off snotty, she was never in trouble. There was no way that her mom would be able to flip out about one time. It was an accident, after all.

They got in the car and she pulled her knees up to her chest.

“Em?”

“What, Dean?” She didn’t mean to snap, she really didn’t. Things just weren’t supposed to be this way.

She felt an ache in her chest that she’d spent years trying to avoid. She didn’t want it. The way he was looking at her wasn’t what she asked for. It just happened. Some things just can’t be fought. Some things are just the way they are. She and Dean spent so much time not saying what they meant. They danced around and avoided. She did everything that she could do, but she loved him anyway.

“I’m sorry,” he said, weakly, turning his eyes back to the road.

She slumped in her seat and watched the world out the window. It was easier to blame him. The back of her throat burned, because she knew that it was the beginning of the end. “I’m runnin’ out of time, okay?” They were out of time. There was no more available. It was over. Maybe it was over long before it ever started.

Dean pulled up in front of their houses, and Emerson threw open the door. She ran to her porch, leaping up the stairs. She didn’t look back to see if he was watching her. She didn’t have to. She knew he was watching. The front door was unlocked, and she pushed in slowly.

“No. It hasn’t been twenty-four hours, but it almost has! Don’t start that shit with me. My daughter is missing!”

“Mom?” Emerson squeaked as she stepped into the living room. Pheli was curled on the couch under a blanket, surrounded by balled up tissues, and Jana held onto the back of the couch to stabilize herself, so she could pace anxiously.

“Christ,” Jana sighed, putting her hand over her face. “She just got home. Yes. Thank you for your time.”

Ophelia jumped up, knocking a lap full of tissues onto the floor. She flung her arms around Emerson’s shoulders, pulling her close. “Oh my god! Where have you been?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, hugging Pheli back. “I didn’t mean to scare you guys.”

“Well, you did a terrible job!” Their mother snapped, staring daggers at her daughter. “Where were you, Emerson?”

The girls unfolded from their embrace, and Emerson tugged at her hair. “I was...”

“I got a call from the school. You never made it in. You didn’t answer your cell phone.” Emerson hadn’t ever seen her mother so angry. She could’ve sworn that Jana had steam coming out of her ears. “What do you have to say for yourself young lady?”

Emerson’s fingers twitched at her side. Her jaw tightened. She felt cornered. “I was with Dean.”

“Dean Winchester?” Pheli whispered, her mouth hanging open.

“Doing what?”

“We went for a swim,” Emerson said, shifting her weight. “My phone got wet.”

“You had all Summer to swim, Emerson. This isn’t like you.”

“You’re right. It isn’t,” she snapped. “It isn’t like me. I never do this kind of thing, so can’t you just cut me a break?”

“Excuse me?”

“Mom, come on! It was one day...”

“I don’t know where this attitude is coming from, but I frankly don’t appreciate it. Go to your room and get ready for school. When you come home tonight, go straight to your room. You need to reassess your priorities if you ever want to make something of yourself. Go.”

“But he’s leaving to...”

“I don’t care! You’re not going to see him. If you can’t be trusted to act like an adult, then I won’t treat you like one. Room. Now,” Jana shouted, her shaking finger pointing to the stairs.

It was over alright.

-27 Days After-

“Dean, can we talk?” Castiel asked, jogging up next to Dean. He was working on his knee, testing his limits.

“Sure, man. Mind keeping pace?”

“Actually,” he said, slowing down to a stop. “We should probably go somewhere private.”

Dean quirked an eyebrow. “Yeah, okay. Lead the way.” They made their way back toward the perimeter. Castiel walked with his hands in his jeans. He looked pensive, with his eyebrows coming together. “Alright, man, you’re killin’ me. What’s up?”

Castiel turned to look at his old friend, and Dean would recognize that look anywhere. It was bad news. He swallowed hard, feeling a lump growing rapidly in his throat. “It’s Ophelia.”

“What is it?”

Cas shook his head with a sigh. “When she came back without Gordon she told a story about how they were overrun. He didn’t make it.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, there was only one shot reported. Her guns were only missing a single bullet. She came back with his pack. Ash didn’t report any Rogue’s in the vicinity. Even if there were, Gordon isn’t the kind to get taken down easily, and he definitely would’ve used more shots.”

“What about his gun? Was that ever retrieved?”

“No,” Castiel said slowly. “But there was only one shot heard. You were there, Dean. Doesn’t it seem suspicious?”

Dean’s tongue darted out of his mouth and ran along his bottom lip. It was weird. He knew it was the moment he saw Ophelia’s face. Something more was going on. “Nah, man. I believe her. What are you trying to say?”

“It isn’t what I’m saying or what I think... it’s the rest of the base. They don’t believe her. They want a trial.”

Dean’s eyebrows came together, his heart hammering under his sternum. “A trial for what?”

“Some people think that she... that she killed him.”

He didn’t mean to laugh, but it was just so fucking ridiculous. His laughter bubbled out of his mouth before he could stop it. “Are you fucking kidding me? Ophelia Maklen? I’m sorry, Cas, but no. No way.”

“It doesn’t look good, Dean.”

“You’re way too serious, man. She didn’t. She couldn’t. She isn’t capable.”

“You’d be surprised what people are capable of now. Things are different, man. Remember all those kinds in Afghanistan with bombs strapped to their chest? This is a war zone, too.”

“People made those kids do that, Cas. If Phel did something it was something she had to do,” Dean said, flexing his fingers.

“I’m sure you’re right,” Cas said with a nod. “But she will need to prove that. We are a true democracy, Dean. My hands are tied.”

Deans jaw was tight. “When?”

“Three days, before dark. Everyone will make their case, and then the base votes.”

“Votes?”

“To decide if she’s guilty or innocent. Unless she confesses, of course.”

“And what? If she’s guilty then she goes to jail? Like you said, this is a war zone. You can’t keep a girl locked up. Especially not one like Ophelia. She’s already struggling just being without her conditioner,” Dean said, trying to make light of things, but his smile seemed forced and his laugh was too dry.  

“Not jail. Just maybe... banishment, but I don’t know for sure. We haven’t dealt with this kind of treason before. It may be less than that or worse...”

“Banishment?” His mouth hung open. “You can’t do that! This was our plan, Cas. Me, you, and the guys.”

“You haven’t been here. Like you said, you’re a civilian. What happened to you back there was fucked up. We all know that, but the past doesn’t mean anything now. As much as I wish it did. In war it’s all about the now. You know that.”

“I get it,” he said through gritted teeth. “I get it, but it’s fucking bullshit. I’ll tell her.”

Dean didn’t let Cas talk again, he turned on his heels and jogged away. His head was water logged. This is bad, fuck this is so bad. He was never close to Ophelia. It was just Emerson. His few select moments one on one with her felt like she was more of an annoying little sister than anything, but she was always supportive of him and Emerson. She was a good person. There was nothing in his mind that thought she did it, but yet. His memory flickered back to the back of the Jeep. She was acting really fucking weird. Something wasn’t right, but it couldn’t be what they expected. Why would she kill him? It didn’t make sense.

He slowed down his jog as he approached the Maklen’s tent. He poked his head in cautiously, a hand over his eyes. “Knock knock.”

He heard and audible groan and couldn’t help but smile. “Em. I’d recognize that annoyed tone anywhere. Everybody decent?”

“Yes, Dean. What do you want?”

Dean opened his fingers, catching a glimpse of her. She was lounging on her pallet, her pen tapping a notebook on her lap. Her hair was falling into her eyes. It was muted and dark in there, and he didn’t know how she could possibly see well enough to write. He was dying to know what she’d been scribbling.

“Out with it Winchester,” she prompted again.

“Aw, be nice to him, Em,” Ophelia said, waving her sister off.

“I’m actually looking for you,” he said tightly to Pheli.

“Finally moved on to the more superior twin? It was bound to happen,” Pheli said dramatically.

He rolled his eyes. “Oh yeah. I’m mad for you.”

“Knew it.” She grinned.

“Should I leave you two alone?” Emerson asked curtly.

“Actually...” Dean said, shifting his weight. “Phel, can we talk?”

Pheli raised an eyebrow. “Uh, sure. I’ll be back, Em.”

“Whatever,” Emerson grumbled, rolling onto her side away from them.

Dean winced at the sight of her turning away from him. He hated that. He hated every time she looked away, but he needed to get over it. She drew the line, now he just had to stay behind it. It was the least he could do.

Ophelia and Dean exited the tent. She folded her arms across his chest and glanced at the tall man. “What’s going on? You look suspiciously serious.”

“What happened at the run yesterday, Phel?”

“What do you mean?”

“What happened with Gordon?”

“I told you.”

“No.” Dean frowned, shoving his hands in his pockets. “You actually didn’t.”

“Why does it matter?”

He pulled his hands out of his pockets and grabbed her biceps, holding her in place. “Listen to me. It matters, Ophelia.”

“Why, Dean?” Her eyes locked with his, her pupils expanding.

“They think you killed him.”

He could see her throat move as she swallowed, her lips opening slightly like she wanted to speak, but she didn’t.

“Fuck.” His hands fell back to his side. He rubbed his jaw. “You didn’t, Phel. Say you fucking didn’t.”

“I can’t say that, and I think you know that.” Her eyes flickered away from him.

“Shit. Goddamnit. Why? Did he attack you?”

“It doesn’t matter why. It’s over.” Her arms folded across her chest, and she turned away completely.

“It matters.” He touched her shoulder. “It matters, because they want a trial. They think you killed him, and they want a fucking trial.”

Pheli turned back to look at him. “A trial? What do you mean?”

“I mean, we have three days before you have to stand up and make your case. So whatever reason you got, I hope that it’s a damn good one. Otherwise we are fucked.”

****

“Stop!” Emerson called after her sister. They were running, and Pheli was pushing harder than she ever had before. “Christ!” She grabbed her sisters shirt, and both girls collapsed into the grass side by side. “We should tell them what happened. What happened to me.”

“No,” Pheli said, shaking her head. “No way.”

Emerson propped herself up on her elbows. “They’ll understand.”

“I don’t give a shit what they think. I’m not making you relive that. This was my thing, I’ll deal with it.”

“That’s not how we work, Phel. It’s not just you. It’s us. It’s always been us. We are a team.”

“That’s not true and you know it.”

“What does that mean?” Emerson frowned, sitting up.

Ophelia followed her sister and sat up. “You’ve been taking care of me your whole life. Don’t talk about this in front of Pheli. Don’t do that in front of Pheli. Don’t upset Pheli. I’m not a flower, you know? I’m not going to break. I don’t have petals.”

“I know that... I...”

“Let me take care of you.” Phel took Emerson’s hands in hers. “No one is going to make you talk about that. No one. I will handle this. Let me take care of you.”

Emerson squeezed her sisters hands. “We will take care of each other. Which means, I’m not going to let them send you away, or worse.”

Pheli wrapped her arms around her sister and squeezed her tightly. “It’s going to be okay.”

“It has to be.” Em murmured against Phel’s neck.

-28 Days After-

Every moment since the bomb went off felt indescribably long. Every second ticked away. Every second was a thousand. At least it felt that way for Emerson. It did until she found out about the trial. Then it went so fast. The clock was spinning. She was afraid it may fly away.

Dean was up on the wall. She stuck her foot in the crack and hoisted herself up to sit next to him. “Dean?”

“Hey.” He didn’t look at her. He just stared off at the distance.

“It looks bad.”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat. “Yeah it does.”

“They won’t... they won’t try to kill her, will they?”

He turned to look at her. “Don’t think so. Cas said it’d most likely be banishment.”

“They can’t do that...”

Dean ran his fingers through his hair. “I hope they won’t, but I don’t know what the fuck they’re going to do.” His eyes flickered to hers. “Why’d she do it? Did she tell you?”

“She said she had to,” Emerson said through gritted teeth.

“The story’s gotta be better than that. They’re not going to take that. They don’t know her, but they knew him.”

“They know you,” she said quietly. “Talk to them.”

“Em...” He sighed. “I don’t think they care about me. Cas does, sure. Benny... but it isn’t just them. It’s this whole damn place.”

Emerson wiped a tear off her cheek. She hurt to her core. “Maybe they’ll understand.”

“I hope so,” he said, putting an arm around her shoulder. “But no matter what we will figure it out. We gotta stay here, Em. The world is a fuckin mess out there. It’s not safe.”

She didn’t want to lean on him. She didn’t want to have to, but old habits die hard. “I know that.”

“I was thinkin’ about that last day.”

“Last day?”

“Yeah. Before I left.”

“Dean... I don’t... I don’t want to talk about that night.” She pressed her lips together. Some things were better left in the past.

“Not that night. The morning, when I dropped you off.”

“Oh,” she whispered. “What about it?”

“It sucked. Watching you go into that house. I fucked up. Shouldn’t have kept you out all night... but that was one of the best nights of my life. I just never really told you that. I didn’t want it to end.”

“I liked it, too,” Emerson admitted. “But everything ends eventually, ya know?”

“Yeah,” Dean sighed. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

-29 Days After-

“What’s going to happen?” Sam asked, looking down at Pheli. He scored some alone time in the tent. They were desperate for just a little time. Time to breathe each other in. Time to just be the two of them. Since everything started, that was the one thing that Sam wanted more than anything.

“I don’t know,” she admitted.

He pushed a hair out of her face and placed a kiss on her forehead. “It’s me and you, and even if Emerson and Dean aren’t getting along they’ll back us. All we need is each other.”

“Everyone keeps talking like I’m going to die,” Pheli said through gritted teeth. “Did anyone consider that I did a good thing? That Gordon was a monster?”

“What happened, Phel? You’re not violent. You don’t...”

“Don’t what? Kill people? You’re right. I don’t.” Ophelia sat up and rested her chin on her knees. “This is all so fucked up, Sam.”

“Talk to me,” he whispered, sitting up behind her. He wrapped his arms around her. “Whatever happened we can...”

“Let’s be honest here, okay?” She turned to look at him, a tear rolling down her cheek. “They’ve already decided what happened. Nothing I say is going to matter. You guys know that, right? They decided tomorrows outcome before they ever called for the trial.”

“Do you want to go through with it? We can just leave. We don’t need this place.”

Pheli touched Sam’s cheek, running her palm along his growing scruff. She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. Not by a long shot. “You are one of a kind, Sam Winchester.”

“So are you. Let’s just go. All we’ve ever needed was each other. The four of us...”

“Sweetie, I appreciate the sentiment,” she said with a sigh. “But you’re wrong. You saw what the world was like out there. It’s kill or be killed... and obviously I made the wrong choice. I always hoped by the time I was graduating college I’d be a little smarter.” She laughed dryly.

“You are smart.”

“You’re my boyfriend, you have to think that.”

Sam laughed and shook his head. “I don’t have to. I know you, Ophelia. You’re a lot of things, but stupid? You’re not stupid, and you’re not a monster. I just wish you’d let people see the real you.”

“I don’t know who the real me is, not here. Not in this version of the world.”

“Here,” Sam whispered, leaning in to kiss her. “Here you can be whoever you want to be. Here you’re in my arms, and I’ve got you. Just be you, Ophelia Maklen. I love all the versions, but the one that comes from here,” he said, pointing to her heart, “that one is my favorite.”

So Pheli kissed him. She kissed him, because he made her want to be a better person. She sat on her knees to reach up to his face and ran her fingers through his hair, tugging gently. She messed up. She shouldn’t have ever let Emerson go alone with Gordon. She shouldn’t have been alone with him, herself. Everything was fragile enough, but things were getting worse. Every second, every day, they were closer and closer to the end. They couldn’t leave the camp, but if they didn’t... how would they ever see if there was help out there? If there was any to find.

“Phel,” Sam murmured against her lips. “Be here with me. You’re somewhere else.”

She didn’t know how, but when Sam looked at her like she was the only other person on the planet, how could she not try? So she lifted her arms, and he tossed her shirt away, his following after.

After their father left, both Maklen sister’s lost a little faith in love. Emerson chose the place of angry solitude. She was all logic. She was made of steel, cold and solid. That left Pheli in control of hope. It left her picking up where Emerson left off. So, when Jana couldn’t stop shaking long enough to pour cinnamon in her cookies, it was Pheli that hovered over the mixing bowl. It was Pheli who tried on dresses, spinning around, laughing even when everything seemed so fucking hopeless. Because she knew that without it, they’d have nothing.

Pheli wrapped her legs around his waist, deepening their kiss. Sometimes life felt like too much, but even when the world fell apart there was Sam. There’d always be Sam with his bright smile and floppy hair. She pulled away and pressed her forehead to his. She ran her thumb across his bottom lip, and he kissed it instinctively. When she was with him she felt safe. She was alive.

She reached behind her and unlatched her bra, tossing it away. Sam smiled at her widely. He leaned down to press gentle, light kisses along the fullness of her breasts. She closed her eyes and let her body relax under his touch. His strong hand held her back up, letting her lean into his touch, and she folded. Her head rolled back, her spine in an arch against his hand. He ran his free fingers between her breasts and down her stomach, her muscles flexing under his light touch, goosebumps rising on her skin.

His fingers caught the button of her jeans and unsnapped them easily, the zipper making a soft grinding noise as he slowly worked it down. She reached up behind her and let her hair down, shaking it out.

Sam let her down, her back flat on his mat, and he ran his fingers along the insides of her thighs, silently asking her to release his waist. She complied, letting her legs loose.

Ophelia and Sam didn’t need words. They communicated through touches and looks most of the time. She always felt like he knew her soul. Everyone assumed that they never fought, that they were perfect, but there was no such thing. All they had were moments, strung together like popcorn around a Christmas tree, they were fragile, but they handled their relationship with care. They wrapped themselves in bubble wrap and held each other close, because something easily broken is something to be cherished. It’s something one of a kind.

Sam worked her jeans off, tossing them to the side, and went right to his own. Ophelia propped herself up and watched him awkwardly hop out of his jeans under the low ceiling of the tent. She let a laugh bubble up inside of her.

“Hey!”

“Sorry,” she giggled. “Can’t help it. You’re too fucking cute, giant.”

Sam fell back to his knees, now only wearing his boxers. He crawled to her, back between her thighs. “I’ll give you something to laugh about,” he said, his voice low.

“Mmm, promise?”

His hand snaked around to the back of her neck, and he captured her lips in his. He kissed her insistently, pressure against her mouth. He ran his tongue along her bottom lip, before taking it into his mouth and sucking gently. Pheli groaned against the kiss and arched her back to press their bare chests together. It felt good to be close to him, to feel his pulse under her touch. His skin was warm and smooth against hers.

She slowed the kiss down, drinking him in. She ran her leg against his before wrapping her legs back around his waist, and her arms around him. Her fingers danced along his skin. She tasted him, slipping her tongue into his mouth. He was warm, soft, open. He tasted a little like the the morning, burnt coffee, and sleep.

Her nails dug into his back back, with a groan, as he pressed against her, two flimsy pieces of fabric between them. Sam grunted from her nails against his skin, but held her closer, grinding against her. She reached down and hooked her fingers in the waistband of his boxers, and pushed down at them desperately trying to close the space between them. He lifted his hips, helping them down, and with a wiggle and a kick they were off.

“I need you,” she whispered, her voice soft and wrecked.

“You’ve got me,” he assured her, his words against her mouth, her ragged breath on his lips. His hand slid up between her legs, his fingers pushing her panties to the side. He slid a finger inside of her in one quick, slick motion. He gave his hand a few quick pumps, causing her breath to catch in her throat.

“All of you.” Her eyes locked with his.

He slid a second finger in, his eyes never leaving hers. He always wanted to watch her come undone, he liked to see her need him, but the look on his face in that moment was different. He wasn’t overcome with lust, and his forehead had a distinct wrinkle. He was worried. “I don’t... I don’t have a condom, Phel. Last time was the last one...”

She propped herself up on her elbow, and held his face in her hand. He leaned into it, and she smiled. “I don’t give a damn,” she said, breathless from the continued motion that swirled and pumped inside of her.

Sam’s eyes scanned down her body and back up to her eyes. He didn’t need any more permission than that. After all their time together he knew when she was sure, and they loved each other. Nothing else in the world mattered, not really. His fingers slid out of her, causing Pheli’s eyes to flutter shut. His fingers grazed across the lace of her panties, making sure they were out of the way as he lined up and pressed into her.

They sighed together in relief as the pressure that was building inside of them geared up to be released. They moved together, Sam creating the rhythm, and Pheli following his lead. She pressed into him, meeting his strides. His hair fell into his eyes, his gaze focused, and his jaw right. She reached up and pulled their faces together in a desperate, insistent kiss.

She pressed her hand back to the ground before shifting her weight, flipping Sam on his back. His eyes fluttered in surprise, but he didn’t pull back from the kiss. He licked into her mouth, his fingers running through her hair, knotting into her waves. Pheli moved with him, grinding against him, running her hands along his chest, through his hair, twisting her fingers into his as she held his hands above his head. Even though he was stronger, he let her pin him.

Sam Winchester had a magical way about him that quieted the screaming inside of Pheli’s skull. The sounds and bees that bounced around her head in a way that never stopped, in an unforgivable way, but there was something about him that silenced things inside of her. He muffled the madness. He was constant and solid. When she was with him she really believed that everything would be okay.

They pulled apart at the right time, Sam grabbing his own boxers to clean up, agreeing to deal with those consequences later. He layed back and pulled her to him, wrapping his sheet around them. Her head rested against his chest, listening to the slowing sound of his pounding heart.

“To love or have loved, that is enough. Ask nothing further. There is no other pearl to be found in the dark folds of life,” she murmured, before kissing the bare skin on his chest.

“That was poetic. Shakespeare?”

“Victor Hugo. Les Miserables,” she said between kisses.

Sam looked down at her and tilted her chin up, so she would look at him. “This isn’t the French Revolution, Phel.”

“I know,” she whispered, meeting his eyes. “This is so much worse.”

—————

Chapter Twenty

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