my_sam_dean (my_sam_dean) wrote in t_31_bang, @ 2009-03-24 13:47:00 |
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Above the clouds, where only angels tread, Anna followed the several hundred year old rules that she knows by heart. She blindly obeys even though her heart isn't in it. She has her grace back, but she wonders if she lost her faith along the way.
Time isn't measured in heaven or wherever the angels work from. It is only measured on Earth. Anna knows it as being fluid. It can move back and forth seamlessly.
She peeked through the clouds and found Dean. She'd know him anywhere, at any age. His heart shines like a beacon.
"Sammy, we're gonna be late for school." Dean finished the sandwiches he made for their lunch and put Sam's in his backpack. He counts the money Dad left and hopes it will be enough to pick up some milk and eggs on the way home from school.
"I gotta find my math book. Gimme a minute." Sam looked under his bed and in the closet.
Dean glanced around the living room/kitchen and saw a corner of a book sticking out from under the couch. "Found it, Sammy! Get your shoes on."
"Where was it?" Sam asked as he shoved the book in his backpack. He sat down beside Dean as he tied his shoes.
"Under the couch. Let's go." Dean snatched the key from the hook and locked the apartment door behind them. It was disgusting in the hall. There was a stink that Dean couldn't identify and only half of the lights worked. Mold was growing up the was. The railing was missing from the stairs. They went up half a flight before going outside.
Dean slowed his pace so that Sam didn't have to run. He put an arm around Sam's shoulder as they walked down the sidewalk. There was a cold breeze in the air. Dean tried to keep the heat down in the apartment, not wanting to run up the bill. But, there weren't any extra blankets. Sam was dressed in layers and still had chattering teeth in bed. Dean heard him from where he was shivering on the couch. After they both laid in the bed, they warmed up and were able to sleep. Dean knew that would have to be their new sleeping arrangement. Didn't matter if Dad liked it or not. It was a matter of survival. Where the hell was he anyway? He was already three days overdue.
"When's Dad supposed to be back?"
"You miss Dad or getting rides to school?" Dean asked him, not giving him an answer.
Sam shrugged. "Both, I guess. I hate walking to school. Kids tease me."
"I told you to wait for me inside after school. I'll be over from the middle school as soon as I can."
"It's better for me to wait outside. I don't want one of the teachers to see. It'll draw attention to me and you know what Dad thinks about that."
"Okay. I'll hang with you until the bell rings and be here when your last class lets out. Will that make it better?"
"Won't that make you miss school?" Sam squinted up at him.
"You just let me worry about that." He ruffled Sam's hair. "Do you have your milk money?"
"Yep."
"I packed you a sandwich in your backpack." Dean leaned against the school talking to Sam until the bell rang. "You gonna be okay now?"
"Yeah."
Dean watched Sam disappear into the large square building. Then, he turned and walked a quicker pace to the middle school.
He cut his last class and was to the elementary school before Sam was out. He observed some of the other boys, recognizing a few of the last names they yelled at each other. He wondered if he went to school with their older brothers. Dean hadn't made any friends since arriving in town. He thought that Sam had made a friend or two, and that made him happy. He liked the thought that Sam had someone to eat lunch with or talk to. Sam came bouncing out of school with a little redhead boy who ran off to catch a bus.
"Who's your new friend?"
Sam handed Dean the books that wouldn't fit in his backpack.
"What the hell are you studying?"
"I have to write a report."
"Don't they give you time to go to the library?"
"Yeah, but it's not enough time and I can't get the books I need 'cos other kids have 'em."
Dean nodded. "So, the kid?"
"He's Tommy. He eats lunch with me. He likes to read, too. When I'm done with these books, he's going to take them home for his report."
"We need to stop for groceries on the way home."
"Can I get some candy?" Sam's face lit up and Dean couldn't refuse.
"I think we can afford a couple pieces of penny candy."
Not once had she regretted her fall from grace. Her return to being an angel, that she regrets. She forgave Dean the moment she knew he'd chosen Sam over her. The only good part of being an angel again was that Dean didn't have to live with the guilt of sending her to hell. Still, he knew how she hated being an angel, so the better alternative that she chose still wasn't perfect.
She closed her eyes and listened to 'Angel Radio'. It didn't come in as clear as it was used to. That was probably part of her punishment. She was kept busy with her assignments. Whenever she was able to, she dipped under the clouds and zoomed in on Dean.
"We can't save them all," Sam reminded Dean.
Staring ahead with his jaw clenched, Dean did not respond.
Sam knew better than to try to talk to Dean again. When he retreated into himself after a hunt, if Sam tried to get him to talk about it, he just retreated further. Slouching against the door, he prepared for a silent ride to a motel. Or, if Dean was upset enough, they might go until Dean couldn't keep his eyes open anymore and then crash in the Impala until daybreak.
"Get us a room and bring in the bags. I'll be next door." Dean didn't give Sam a chance to argue. He was out of the car and walking toward the bar.
The sound of his boots on wooden planks and peanut shells made him feel at home. He considered hustling pool and decided that his mind was other places. He needed to concentrate to hustle and get out of there intact.
Instead of sitting at a table, he went to the bar to get served faster. He downed whiskey like it was soda. The bartender looked at him and Dean just smirked before downing another. As long as he was paying, he knew he'd get served.
Sam checked them in to another nondescript motel room. They all looked the same but this one actually had hot water. If the sheets were clean, it would be like staying in the Ritz.
Sam put each duffel on a bed, knowing that Dean would take the bed near the door. He laid the salt lines, knowing that he would have to fix the one at the door when they returned. He wouldn't bring up the man they couldn't save, but he wasn't going to leave Dean alone at the bar.
When he opened the door to the bar, he was blasted with Metallica. Yep. this was Dean's kind of place. Dean was easy to spot, the lone man drinking one after another at the bar. He didn't look around or tap his fingers to the music. He didn't strike up a conversation with anyone. He just stared into those empty glasses as if they held the secret to life.
The case they had been on was similar to those they had done before. There was a vengeful spirit in a river because he had drowned there. He'd been in high school, partying with friends on a boat. There had been drinking and he'd fallen overboard. His friends were too drunk to save him. By the time help arrived, they couldn't find his body in the water. Scuba divers searched the water for three days after the accident to no avail. His parents buried an empty casket and prayed for closure that never came.
Fifteen years later, people were drowning in the river on a regular basis. They were adults who could swim and they weren't alone at the time. Witnesses claimed that the victims were pulled under the water. All they could do was watch their friend struggle, arms flailing, as they disappeared into the water.
Hours at the library proved successful. They identified the teenager who had drowned. The people who had drowned, and brought Sam and Dean to town, were somehow related to the other high schoolers that were in the boat and were drinking that night.
They needed to figure out a story to tell the families of the teenagers that survived that fateful night so they would stay away from the river. They finally decided on telling the families that there was an unknown parasite in the river. They posed as the Environmental Protection Agency and took samples of the water for testing. They put the information in the local newspaper and posted flyers around town.
Scanning the river wasn't as easy as they'd thought it would be. There were trees, garbage and boulders. The River Rescue boat had enough equipment to see underwater but it couldn't detect what wasn't there.
"A body can't just disappear, Sam. Where the hell is it?"
Sam shook his head. "At some point, it should have been floating. The bacteria that develops in the body should have brought it to the surface. Either he came to the surface and no one noticed or something is holding him down there."
"I just want to salt and burn his ass. How much of this area do we have to cover?"
"As much as it takes to find him," Sam sighed.
On the third day of searching, Dean was at the end of his rope. "Are we sure this is the right river?"
"It's mentioned by name in the reports. I also checked the records to make sure that a John Doe didn't fit his description. If you have any other ideas, I'm all ears."
They searched in silence.
"Bait."
"What?" Sam wasn't sure if Dean spoke or not.
"Bait," Dean repeated calmly. "We get one of those partiers from the boat to get in the water, we have 'em rigged up so they won't drown. The spirit will come out of hiding and we can trap it."
"That's another thing. How are we going to get this thing out of the water so we can salt and burn it?"
Dean shrugged. "We'll think of something."
They looked up at the sound of tires screeching. There was a yellow school bus on the bridge. It was clearly out of control.
"I hope that's empty." Dean turned the boat around and went toward the bridge.
Sam looked at his watch and knew they weren't going to be that lucky. School had probably just let out.
The bus moved in slow motion as it struck one side of the bridge, then the other, before plunging into the water below. Dean dove into the river after it.
The children weren't in seat belts, so he was able to reach in and grab them through the smashed windows. A few kids had reached the surface on their own. Sam was plucking them out of the water but he had nothing to offer them besides a place to sit on the boat. They had a very limited supply of blankets. Luckily, most of the students were tiny.
"How many kids are on the bus?"
"Usually eighteen and the driver but Charley stayed after today," a little girl told him.
"So there's seventeen students and the driver?"
Three soaked heads nodded.
When Dean came up for air, Sam yelled, "Seven more kids and the driver!"
Dean gave him a thumbs up sign and disappeared under the water again.
"Who are we missing? What are their names?" Sam kept trying to get information from the children. They rattled off some names and the last names sounded familiar. "Did some of their parents grow up around here?"
A little blonde girl nodded. "My daddy went to school here with the bus driver. He comes over sometimes."
"What's your last name, sweetie?" Sam smiled at the little girl. He helped a few more kids from the water. Then, Dean surfaced. "Dean! It's the bus driver! He's after the bus driver!"
Before Sam's voice stopped echoing, Dean was gone again. All the kids got out. But, no matter how Dean struggled with the driver's seat belt, it wouldn't come off. He tried to cut it and even that didn't work. The driver lost consciousness and Dean was still trying to save his life. Then, he saw him.
He had black circles around his eyes and black lips. Weeds were stuck in his hair. The look on his face was terrifying. "MINE!" he screamed underwater as he sped toward the bus. Dean backed off and saw him disappear clutching the driver's body. Now there would be two bodies that would never be found.
Dean sucked in air and it felt like his lungs were on fire.
Sam did a headcount and thought all the kids were accounted for. "Are we missing anyone besides the driver?"
They looked around with chattering teeth. A boy said, "We're all here."
"Good."
Sam saw Dean swim to the boat. When he helped Dean in, he quietly asked about the driver. Dean just shook his head.
The bus driver had been the driver of the boat that night. He was the one who was supposed to stay sober. He didn't. The teenager who drowned blamed him for his death. Once he drug him along to share his watery grave, it was over. Nothing to salt and burn. No more danger in the water.
After the children were safely with their parents, they returned to the motel one last time. They changed into dry clothes and got on the road, which is where Sam reminded Dean that they can't save everyone.
Dean was a hero, even though he didn't see it that way. At the moment, glued to the bar, he was still a hero. His poor heart had broke just a little more that day.
Sam crossed the space between them and Dean didn't notice him standing there.
"Feeling any better?"
"Yeah. Numb. Numb counts as better." Dean still stared at the empty glasses and ordered another two.
"Today, I didn't know if I should jump in the river with you or stay on board. It seemed wrong to leave you to do all the swimming."
"We didn't have time to plan it, Sam. Hell, when is the last time that we actually had a plan? It worked out fine."
"Then why are we here, Dean? I checked us in and we could have just taken hot showers and called it a night."
"I needed to relax."
"Can you stop drinking for the night after this?"
"Why?" Dean turned his head and looked at him for the first time since Sam had entered the bar. "Why would I do that?"
"Because I need my big brother. Because I had a shitty day, too." Sam's eyes filled with tears.
The pain on Sammy's face hit Dean like a punch. "We can leave after this. Maybe order a pizza?"
Sam nodded and bit his lip.
Swallowing his last drink in a couple gulps, he told Sam, "Let's get out of here." He swayed a little on his feet, but Sam was there to right him.
Bad reality television, pizza and beers made for an interesting night. It almost kept their minds off of the one they couldn't save. For now, almost making them forget was going to have to be good enough.
She wanted him to be safe and happy. Sam would do his best to keep Dean safe but the darkness that ate Dean from the inside took whatever shred of happiness or contentment that he could find.
The next time she swooped down and saw Dean, he was older. His hair was gray at the temples and his face had a rugged scar that ran from his hairline to his earlobe. It barely missed his eye. Sam had done his best stitching but there was no way to avoid the obvious scarring.
Sam was with him and he was showing his age, too. Wire-rimmed glasses were perched on his nose as he cursed new technology and tried to get his laptop to work. He had ace bandages on his knees and put ice on them when they stopped for the night. He was over his candy phase and trying to eat healthier, which was hard to do on the road.
"You going out?"
"You need to ask?" Dean responded, ever the smartass. He took an extra-long shower, fixed his hair instead of just running his fingers through, and checked his appearance in the mirror at least twice before he left. "Don't wait up."
"Yeah, yeah. Have fun." Sam waved him off.
Dean slipped out the door and the Impala growled out of the parking lot.
Sam leaned back in his chair and wondered how many more years this routine of Dean's could go on before it got old. Dean never seemed to tire of it, but Sam couldn't figure out the appeal.
Dean drove around until he found the bar lot that seemed the most crowded. That was the one he chose for the night. When he walked in, he felt old. Almost all of the other customers were in their mid-twenties and he was pushing forty. He nervously ran a finger over the scar on his face, and wished it wasn't there. He put on his best smile and slid onto a stool at the bar.
He paced himself because he didn't want the alcohol to cloud his judgment. He was looking for a hook-up for the night but that didn't mean he had to be careless. He watched the ladies dancing and saw that they hadn't changed much over the years. They still fell into groups: the ones you take home to meet the folks, the ones you have a relationship with, the ones you date for awhile, and the ones that are disposable (one time use only).
The music wasn't anything that he recognized anymore. Even Sam didn't want to listen to the radio in the car or motel room. They had Dean's tapes and Sam had bought CDs with a portable player that plugged into the Impala's stereo system. That was how they stayed sane during their long drives. In the motels, they kept the television on for background noise.
"You new in town?" She wore bright red lipstick. Dean couldn't take his eyes off her lips.
"Passing through," he gave her his patented Winchester smirk.
"You're all by your lonesome?"
Watching her lips, Dean almost missed the question. He nodded and took a drink. "How about you?"
"I came here alone."
"Anyone waiting at home?" He didn't see a ring but after that incident when the husband came home, he wanted to make sure. He didn't care to get slammed into any walls and Sam didn't have enough bail money to get him out of the pokey. To teach Dean a lesson, Sam would probably leave his ass in jail even if he had the money.
She shook her head. "I live in a small place, but it's just mine."
"Good to know."
Moving closer, she pressed her ample breasts against Dean's arm. "My name is Ginger. What's yours?"
"Dean, honey." He put an arm around her waist. Her skirt was short and leather. Her shirt was glittery. Dean's thumb was against a patch of bare skin. He rubbed his thumb in circles just above her skirt. "Want a drink?"
"I'll have what you're drinking." Her voice wasn't annoying like some of the girls he'd brought home. He had a feeling that this one was smarter than his usual. For a reason he didn't understand, he liked that.
Their drinks went down slow, taking their time and flirting. When she pressed her red lips to his, he knew she was the one for the night. When after they'd had a few, he asked her if she'd like to leave.
"Hell ya," was her answer.
Once out of the bar, it became a little awkward. It was time to work out the details.
"I'm traveling with my brother, so I don't exactly have a place to bring you to," Dean told her.
"My place will be fine," she smiled, hooked a finger in Dean's belt loop and asked, "Where's your car?"
He led her to the Impala that he'd parked under a streetlight and opened the door for her.
"Wow. Nice set of wheels. Classic."
So she was pretty and smart, too.
"How long have you had this?" she asked as he drove, meaning the car.
"I got it from my dad when I turned sixteen. He'd had it since before he was married. We try to baby it through the years."
"It shows. I can appreciate a nice car. Smooth lines, rumbling engine and flawless paint."
"You're a woman with my best interests at heart."
"I guess so."
He followed her directions to a small apartment house hidden behind other houses. Holding hands, her high heels clicked on the concrete of the narrow path as she led the way. When she opened the door, her apartment was as small as some of the ones he and Sam had lived in. It was just in much, much better condition.
She kicked her shoes off on the rug and Dean removed his boots.
"Are you thirsty? Do you need anything before . . ." she blushed.
"I'm fine." He smiled at her blushing. It was the little things that stole his heart.
She pulled Dean to her bed. Dean undressed and watched as she unzipped her skirt. When she stretched to pull her shirt over her head, There was nothing to cover all the fine young skin that he saw before him.
Fun had and energy spent, Ginger laid her head on Dean's shoulder as her fingers traced scars on his chest.
"Is your name really Ginger?"
"My mom was a 'Gilligan's Island' fanatic."
"Guess that's better than Mrs. Howell." Dean chuckled as he ran his fingers through her long hair.
"Ha-ha. Your name really Dean?"
"Yep. Family name."
She looked at his scars in silence before asking, "How did you get all these?"
"Life. Some scars are on the outside and others are inside."
"Is all that you remember of life bad?"
"No, of course not. I have a baby brother and he means the world to me."
"Is it just you two?"
"Yep. It's always been the two of us. Mom passed when we were very young. Dad lived until we were adults, but not any further than that. How about your family?"
"Dad didn't stick around. Step-dad was worse until Mom kicked his ass out. My little brother is in the military. I'm just out of college. I worked my way through and moved home after graduation."
Dean could hear her pride at working her way through school. "What did you study?"
"Business and Financing. Did you go to extra schooling?"
"Just the school of hard knocks." Dean kissed her hair. "Don't know if I graduated or if I'm still there."
"You're not gonna tell me what caused the scars, are ya?"
"You're better off not knowing."
"Have you ever had a romantic relationship?"
"Like this?"
"No. I'm talking about something that lasts longer."
"Once. Only once. How about you?"
"A few relationships lasted less than a year. Only a couple lasted over a year. It just left me wondering what was wrong to make the relationships fail."
"Maybe they were the wrong guy. You're smart, resourceful and independent. What you could offer someone is so much more than most of the women who hang out in bars. Where did you go to college at?"
"A town about 30 miles away. I moved back for my mom."
"Does she need you to take care of her?"
"Sometimes."
"You'll have a better chance of finding a job in your field in the town you went to college in. You might be able to hire a companion for your mom for when you're not home."
Ginger seemed to consider what Dean had said. He was already back to thinking about Anna.
"I was in love once. It was beautiful. There was no question. As soon as I met her, our souls were connected. Once connected, not even death can tear souls apart."
"The way you speak of her is so romantic and sad."
"She had a heart that loved me and everything about me. She knew of my inner demons and my wrongdoings. She tried to calm the demons and forgave my sins."
He didn't notice that tears were threatening to fall as he spoke.
"Her smile brought a peace to me and in her eyes, I saw her capacity to love and it amazed me. I was only allowed a limited amount of time with her. It was less than a week, but we loved like we'd been together for years."
"Where is she now?" Ginger had propped herself on her elbows as she listened to Dean's story.
"She's an angel. She's my angel. Her name was Anna. I know that I was the only man she ever loved. The times of tenderness that we shared were slow and loving. Her skin was smooth under my calloused fingertips. I'll never forget the feel of her breath on my skin or her hands running over my back. Moments when her long red hair shielded us from the rest of the world. All that existed was the two of us. I loved those times."
"She sounds amazing."
"She was. She still is wherever she is tonight. The night we spent together--I had tried so hard to make it special for her because of all she meant to me. Instead, she made me feel precious. We stayed awake until the sun rose, knowing that morning was coming way too soon. Even knowing how much it hurt when she had to go, I never would have given up the chance to meet her. You only meet a person like that once in a lifetime."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"You wanted to know and genuinely cared about my answer. I want you to find that someone who is a one in a lifetime for you."
"Why are you concerned about that? You just met me."
Dean shifted so he could look her in the face. "You've worked hard to become who are and you've probably settled on some hook-ups that left you needing or wanting more. You're worth more. Take your mom and get out of this town. Become the woman you've always wanted to be. The rest will fall into place."
"How do you know that?"
"Years of experience," Dean smiled. The corners of his eyes crinkled more than they used to in his younger days and he had laugh lines by his smile.
"How long ago did you meet your angel?"
"Over ten years. In dreams I remember pieces, like the feel of her hand against my cheek, her hair brushing against my face or the sound of her whisper in my ear. I like to think that she having the memories at the same time."
"So how do I fit into your sad romantic tale?" asked Ginger.
"You are helping her take care of me until I join her one day. I'm providing you a safe, comfortable place to enjoy being a woman. I kept you happy for one evening, didn't I?"
She nodded.
"That's enough talking. Let's get some rest." Dean grabbed the covers with one hand while Ginger snuggled next to him. He wrapped them in the blankets. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
Anna cried tears with so many emotions mixed in. She missed Dean, she loved him, and she never knew that she'd affected his life so much. She had only known how he had changed her life. She blew him a kiss before she had another assignment to handle.
***
Her wings were tired the last time she checked on Dean. All his hair was gray. Some of his knuckles were swollen with arthritis and he moved a little slower. Sam's hair had a healthy amount of gray that matched his glasses. He walked with a pronounced limp as he followed Dean on their trek through the woods.
They researched a weindigo and were following its trail of rampage. Each of them had a flare gun as well as a gun with consecrated iron rounds for anything else that might come their way. In their coats, they had their holy water and Book of Latin..
Dean heard the animal and held up a finger, indicating for Sam to stop, which he did. Dean listened for a moment longer. As soon as he saw the creature, he blasted it with the flare gun. His shot went wide and the angry animal charged.
After Dean shot his flare gun, Sam was prepared to shoot his. As soon as he saw the fur, he pulled the trigger. His shot went high. They ran but the creature moved way too fast.
Neither Winchester was conscious once the weindigo had them in its clutches. It crushed their skulls almost instantly. That was the one mercy in their killing. They went out hunting, and they went together. One never could have lived without the other.
They left fighting side by side, the same way they lived.