Faith Against Fate

I mentally shook myself. Just because it had Dean’s voice didn’t mean it was Dean. A demon could have possessed him, or picked a meatsuit that happened to sound like him. The bottom line was I wouldn’t know unless I got a look at him. I took a breath, and tried to steady myself.

I’d stopped shooting, and they’d stopped shooting. A demon wouldn’t have stopped unless they thought I was dead or they were out of bullets, so I figured this was my chance. I poked my head around the corner and laid eyes on the two men I’d just tried to kill.

Ha, “oh shit” didn’t even cover it.

“Dean?! Dean is that you?” I shouted. I don’t know why I asked, because the one glance I had of him told me yes, yes it was. Oh, and he wasn’t possessed either.

“No, it’s fucking Bobo the Clown!” he answered back. “Who the hell are you?”

“Jesus Christ,” I mumbled to myself. “It’s Faith!” I replied, dropping my gun to the concrete. I sank to the ground and banged my head against the wall behind me. I was at a loss for words. I’d almost killed him.

The one I didn’t recognize rounded the corner first, his gun trained on me, and Dean followed.

“Oh my God, it is you,” he said, and after a second lowered the gun.

I squinted up at the tall figure, because I couldn’t look at Dean. Hair obscured his face, and it was hard to tell with the fading light, but after a good second or two it finally hit me.

“Hey Sammy,” I smiled up at him, “long time no see.” A splash of what I assumed to be holy water hit my face then, and I finally glared at Dean, motioning to my non-sizzling self. “Happy now?”

“NO!” he was incredulous. “YOU SHOT ME!”

“You’re the one who wouldn’t open the door.”

“It’s a good thing I didn’t too! I’d probably be dead!”

“I thought you guys were a couple of demons! If I’d seen your face I wouldn’t have shot you.”

“Oh yeah, and I was supposed to know this how exactly?”

“I’m sorry okay! I saw the Impala and freaked. The old guy said it was two young guys who rented the room, not an older guy and his sons! I thought something had happened to you.”

“I’ll tell you what happened to me, you fucking shot me and now-”

“I can’t believe it’s really you, Faith,” Sam suddenly cut Dean off, and I looked up at him again. He didn’t seem as angry. More like…happy?

I stood up, but I still found I had to tilt my head upward to look at him. “Jeez kid, I know I told you to eat your veggies, but don’t you think you overdid the growing thing just a bit?”

“Okay, great, happy reunion going on here while I bleed to death…”

“Dean, she only grazed you, you said it yourself,” Sam said, his tone exasperated.

“Doesn’t me it doesn’t fucking hurt…” he mumbled, going back into the room.

“Um, we should probably get inside too,” Sam suggested, “manager’s probably already called the police, we need to get out of here.”

“Uh, I think you guys are okay for a few minutes. I made sure the old guy was…safe.”

“What did you do?”

“Just locked him in a bathroom,” I shrugged. “I can let him out when you guys are ready to go.”

“Okay, well, there are a couple things I think we need to catch up on anyway,” he placed a massive hand on my shoulder and steered me towards the room.

“Seriously, when did you get so big?” I couldn’t help asking.

“Uhh, ‘bout seventeen’s when I started growing I guess.”

“Yeah, and he hasn’t stopped since,” Dean said, a bit of brotherly affection in his voice.

Sam closed the door behind me and went over to an open bag on the floor, withdrawing what looked like a crude first aid kit. “You need help stitching up?” he asked. I sat down on the corner of the bed closest to the door, unsure of what to do or say.

“Yeah, I can’t reach it,” Dean answered, carefully peeling the blood-soaked cloth of his jacket away. I averted my eyes when the shirt came off next, like some stupid little teenager. I cursed at myself when I felt my cheeks burning.

“I have some fresh bandages I just bought yesterday in my room, if you need them,” I offered, still staring at the door.

“Oh no. I don’t think so. I’m not letting you outta my sight this time,” Dean answered, “So you better just sit back and relax for a minute, because I got a few things I wanna say to you.”

“What the hell are you guys doing here anyway? Is John with you?” I asked.

“Dad died,” Sam said simply, in a matter of fact tone. I glanced over at him.

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“Are you? Really?” Dean locked eyes with me, “cause I seem to remember you weren’t exactly his number one fan.”

“Yes, I’m sorry. And damnit, can you blame me?”

“Okay guys, just relax,” Sam intervened, “We have more important things to talk about than something that happened eight years ago. And stop moving around so much Dean, you’re gonna make me mess it up.”

Dean took a swig of whiskey from the bottle he was clutching in his hand, wincing as Sam began stitching the gash, but calmed down. He was still glaring at me though, so I went back to staring at the little circles of light my bullets had made in the door.

“You’re kind of busy right now though, I can wait in my room,” I tried again. I really wanted to get the hell out of there, and my mind was already a million miles away, focused on what my next move would be.

“I said no,” Dean answered, barely masking the anger in his voice.

“You know this isn’t a coincidence that all of us ended up here in Portsmouth,” Sam said, “We’re here because this town had been virtually surrounded by demonic activity, to the point where it looks like they’re about to lay siege to the whole town. We couldn’t figure out why before, but I’m thinking we have our answer now.”

“But I checked this place out,” I argued, “I chose it at random and then researched it like crazy. And I only got here yesterday, too. How the hell would they know that far in advance that I’d be here?”

“I don’t know, maybe they’ve enlisted a clairvoyant or a psychic. Either way, they know you’re here, and I doubt it’ll take them much longer to converge on this place like some…unholy plague.”

“Nice imagery Sammy,” Dean quipped, before taking another swig.

“But…” my mind was working like a caffeinated three year old’s, “but I was so careful. Do you know how many masking spells and how much hoodoo I’ve used? There’s no way they could have seen me coming…”

“Well, apparently it wasn’t good enough, and now we’re all royally screwed.”

"No, you're not," I said, my mind made up. I stood up from my perch on the bed and started for the door. I needed to act fast. If what they said was true, any blood that would be spilt here would be on my hands, and I couldn’t handle that. If the armies of hell had finally come for me, I needed to take the fight as far away from innocent people as I could, Sam and Dean included.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Dean asked.

“Away from here,” I yanked the door open and dashed into the evening air, making a beeline for my room. I needed my guns and knives, I needed to feel safe.

I got inside and started loading up, clipping on my belt and holster, belting knife sheathes around my wrists, and dropping extra magazines into my pockets. I was halfway through stuffing my clothes in my duffel bag when I heard someone come in behind me.

Without thinking I had a silver knife in my hand and I was lunging at the intruder, only to have a strong hand suddenly gripping my wrist with a terrified Dean attached to it.

“Woah! Take it easy Fay, Jesus!”

“You shouldn’t sneak up on me!”

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure I’ll remember that in the future,” he nodded, warily eying the glinting blade I still gripped in my hand, the tip only a few inches from his neck. Since he was so close I noticed that he’d grown a good bit too. My head used to come up just past his chin, and now I was eye-level with his chest. He wasn’t exactly scrawny, either, and I could feel the strength in his grip.

“Are you gonna let the knife go or try to kill me again today?” he asked, breaking me out of my thoughts.

“You’re the one holding my wrist there,” I answered, pointing out how his hold hadn’t slackened at all. He let it go quickly, and wiped his hand on his jeans. I just turned away, back to my packing.

“Planning on going somewhere?” he asked, sitting on the bed beside my bag.

“Yeah.”

“Where?”

“Away,” I replied through clenched teeth.

“By yourself?”

“Of course by myself. I’ve dealt with this on my own for a long time, Dean. I can handle it.”

“Yeah, and your rampant paranoia is definitely a good sign that you’re handling it well.”

I didn’t respond. I wasn’t going to let him get to me. Maybe if I just ignored him…

“Hey, would you stop freaking out for a minute and listen to me?” he persisted.

“Go away.”

“No.” He stood up and grabbed my bag, tossing it to the floor, “and you’re not going anywhere unless it’s with us, so stop for a second.”

Resisting the urge to hit him with…something hard, I just bent over to retrieve it. “I’m not going anywhere with you, Dean. This is my problem, not yours.”

“Faith,” he reached out and grabbed my left arm, “what the hell are you talking about? We’re hunters for God sake! If killing demons isn’t our problem then what the fuck is?”

“I don’t know!” I ripped my arm away from him, and the sudden movement must have jarred his injured shoulder. He winced noticeably.

“Oh, God I’m sorry Dean…”

“Just stop!” he yelled, backing away from me. “I swear you’re gonna end up killing me by the end of the day. Damnit, why don’t I remember you being this difficult before?”

“I don’t know, maybe it was because the constant threat of being kicked out onto the streets kept me in line.”

“Oh, you really wanna start this conversation now? Did you honestly think Dad-”

“Yes I did! I believed it with all my heart and he reminded me everyday of how I was ‘expected to contribute.’ God, I can’t believe you’re still so naïve!”

“Naïve? Me? Are you fucking kidding me right now? You’re the one that thinks you could take on an entire army of demons by yourself!”

“I never said I could take them all on and win you asshole! I probably won’t make it out alive, but I’m sick and tired of running!! I don’t have it in me anymore!”

“Wait, what?” Dean took a step towards me, so I turned back around and went back to stuffing my clothes back in the bag.

“Just drop it,” I shook my head. “Go do some good somewhere. I’ll make sure nothing happens to this town.”

“Fay…”

“God, please just go away!”

“I’m not going to let you kill yourself!”

I whipped around and faced him, “Do you have any idea what it’s like not being able to stay in one place for longer than a few weeks? Or a month if you’re lucky? Do you know what it’s like to see horrendous faces staring at you in every Goddamn crowd you see? I have more scars on my body from those fucking beasts, more horror stories, and more blood on my hands then any hunter could ever imagine, and I can’t do it anymore. I almost killed you today because I was too rash, too damn paranoid. I can’t…live like this anymore. I just want it to be over with!”

“So what, you’re just gonna give up? Quit? Clock out like it’s no big deal? Well let me tell you something, if they get a hold of you Fay, they’re not just going to kill you. They’ll torture you until you sell them your soul, and then the real fun will begin. Trust me, I know!”

“Oh yeah, I heard about your little stint in hell,” I replied, fury taking over my better senses. “Rumor has it you switched sides for a while too. You could give me a real firsthand account of what techniques they use down there, couldn’t you?”

He was quiet, but the expression on his face spoke volumes. I knew I shouldn’t have said it, I didn’t know for sure if it was true or not. But his silence told me everything.

“It is true, isn’t it?”

He didn’t answer.

I just stared at him. I didn’t want it to be true. Demons I’d met along the way had told me horrible, awful things, but I always assumed they were lying. When more than one mentioned how the oldest Winchester boy had become hell’s premier torturer though, it’d stuck with me. It’d been an evil, dark thought in the back of my mind for quite a while. And now it was reality.

He turned and walked out of the room while I continued staring, and he slammed the door behind him.