I'm Not Strong Enough to Stay Away

I knocked on the door as Ella was getting out of the car. She joined me on the steps and asked impatiently, “What’s takin’ so long?”

I was about to reply when the door opened and there stood Bobby Singer. “Gari?” he said, sounding pleasantly surprised. “How’s it goin’, kid?”

“Pretty good, old man,” I replied, instantly feeling at ease with the experienced hunter.

“Where’re Sam and Dean?” Ella piped up. “They've been gone for weeks!”

“How should I know what those idjits are up to?” Bobby said dismissively, but I could see that he was hiding something.

“’Cause ya always know,” Ella said, hands placed stubbornly on her hips. “You’re probably the one who made them leave!” she accused.

“I just gave ‘em information,” Bobby said defensively. “It was their choice what they did with it.”

“Ya coulda made them take us,” she mumbled rebelliously, her bottom lip jutting out in a small pout. “They listen to you.”

“Not all the time,” I contradicted her. “Dean was still gonna throw me back in the panic room, even though Bobby was on our side. The only reason he didn’t try was because he was outnumbered.”

“True…” Ella admitted sulkily. “But ya coulda tried, Bobby!”

“I told ya, Ella,” Bobby sighed, “it’s their business. Only reason I knew about it’s ‘cause I’m the only brain they got. Now, d’ya wanna come inside or d’ya wanna stay out on the porch till they get back?” He opened the door wider, staring expectantly at Ella.

“Fine,” she huffed finally, stomping through the door and up the stairs, grumbling to herself the whole way.

“Bobby, what are they doing?” I asked quietly once I could no longer hear Ella. “They’re hunting something, aren’t they? Something major?” He didn’t reply, though he looked like he wanted to. “I know about Lucifer—about everything,” I said, and his eyes widened slightly. “Bobby, they’re not—they’re not going after him again, are they?”

“What kinda idjit d’ya think I am?!” he asked indignantly. “D’ya really think I’d risk that after what happened last time? We lost some good people that night, and I’m not real eager to do it again any time soon.”

I breathed a sigh of relief and said, “I’m sorry, but what was I supposed to think, with you being all mysterious? I am a hunter, y’know. I tend to jump to the worst conclusions.”

“I know, kid,” Bobby said. “Look, I’d tell ya if I could, but I can’t. If the boys want ya to know, they’ll tell ya themselves.”

“Once they get back,” I said deviously, “they’ll tell me whether they want to or not. For I have my ways…” Bobby chuckled and I laughed, glad to be back in Sioux Falls, the closest thing I had to a home.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I woke up abruptly, lifting my head from the book I’d been reading, and rubbed the crick in my neck. Something had to have happened to wake me up, but I wasn’t sure what. All was quiet in Bobby’s house.

I stood up slowly and headed toward the stairs, deciding I’d be able to sleep better in my bed.
Suddenly, I heard a loud creaking sound and, figuring that had been what woke me up, went to investigate.

I pulled my dagger out of my boot, its familiar shape comfortable in my hand. I heard the noise again and realized it was coming from the kitchen. As I rounded the corner, I saw a huge figure and instantly lunged at it.

“Shit!” the figure cursed as my knife made contact. 'Wait a minute,' I thought, 'I know that voice…'

“Sam?” I flipped on the light and saw the overgrown hunter clutching his arm where I’d cut him. “Fuck, I’m sorry!”

“It’s okay,” Sam chuckled, but it sounded forced. “Should’ve expected that.”

“Where’s Dean?”

“Car,” he said tensely, jerking his head toward the front door. 'Oh, God,' I thought. 'What happened now?'

“Lemme see that,” I said, reaching for his arm. I put my hand over the cut—which, thankfully, wasn’t too deep—and my powers took effect, knitting the skin and tissues back together.

“I will never get used to that,” he said, shaking his head, and I grinned, but it faded a little as I noticed how jittery he was. His eyes kept darting back and forth from me to the front door and his foot was tapping nervously. 'Seriously, what the fuck?'

“So, how’d the hunt go?” I asked casually, wondering if he’d tell me what they’d been hunting or if I’d have to cajole it out of him.

“Fine,” he replied shortly, and I knew that I would have to go about this in a different way. “Just a normal hunt. How’ve you been?”

I shrugged. “Ella’s pissed,” I said, seemingly off-topic. “She figures if we’re that easy to leave behind, we should move on.” I knew that was a lie—Ella would never say that—but I was trying to get him to tell me the truth. 'Whatever works, right?'

“Oh?” Sam said, leaning against the counter, still only halfway paying attention. “And what d’you think?”

“I think that’s just how hunters are,” I replied lightly. “Always eager to ditch everything and run away. Especially those driven by life-long, revenge-filled obsessions.” I hadn’t referenced John in a very long time, and rarely ever to Sam, so I was curious to see how he’d react. 'Don’t worry about insulting him,' I mocked myself. 'He’s only the only guy you’ve ever actually cared about.'

I was pleased to see that it had the effect I had expected. “Gari, c’mon,” Sam said pleadingly, finally giving me his full attention, and I looked away before I could see those puppy dog eyes. “If I could tell you and I knew you’d leave it alone, then I would. But you won’t. Dean and I have to deal with this on our own.”

I crossed my arms and looked down at my feet. “It’s about Lucifer, isn’t it?” I asked softly, biting my lip. “That’s why you won’t tell me?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, “it is. And, yeah, it’s exactly why I don’t want you involved. You’d just be one more person put in the line of fire because of me.”

“I don’t care,” I said stubbornly. “I wanna know. You’ve told me the whole back story—I’m already a part of this. I’ve been a part of this from the get-go.”

“I’m sorry, Gari, but no,” Sam said, turning away.

I grabbed his arm and he spun back around to face me, about to say something, but I beat him to it. “D’you not get it?” I asked him angrily. “D’you not get what you’re putting me through? If you keep going off without telling me anything, how the fuck will I know where to find you? And what if, one day, you don’t come back?”

Tears welled up in my eyes and I blinked them away rapidly. 'No,' I thought adamantly. 'I am not crying in front of him again.' I gazed up into his eyes, watching the conflict that was going on behind them and hoping desperately that he’d give in.

He stared down at me for a long time, then sighed, looking pained at the thought of what he was about to say. “If I don’t come back,” he said finally, “then you know what happened.”

At that moment, Dean entered the house, looking very disheartened. He stopped at the sight of us, his eyes going to me and filling with what (surprisingly) looked like concern. “Hey, you okay?” he asked me, and I nodded weakly.

“Yeah, Dean,” I replied, my voice muffled by restrained tears. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

“Sammy…” he said slowly, looking at his brother.

Sam tensed, looking ready to bolt, and said, “Yeah, I know.” He reluctantly headed toward the basement door and Dean followed him, dragging his feet and looking almost as reluctant.

“What’s going on?” I asked, clearing my throat. Both brothers ignored me, even when I started following them down the stairs. Sam hesitated at the panic room door. “Guys, what’s going on?” I repeated, an immense amount of dread filling the pit of my stomach.

They continued to ignore me. “You ready?” Dean asked his brother, and Sam nodded, swallowing fearfully. Dean opened the metal door and waited.

“No,” I said, utterly shocked. “No way. Dean, you can’t—“

“Gari, stop,” Sam interrupted. “I—I need to go back in.”

“No, you—why?!” I asked bewilderedly, crossing over to stand beside him. “There is no way you’re going back in there!” I spun to face Dean, clenching my fists angrily. “You’re crazy, Dean! You can’t do this!”

“Garideth,” Sam said with a note of determined finality. “I started drinking it again. I need to go back in.”

I froze, his words not fully processing. “You… what…? Sam, you…” I shut my mouth with an audible click and once again felt myself tearing up. “How could you?!” I whispered.

“Gari…” he said pleadingly, reaching out to me.

I shied away, swallowing back the bile rising up in my throat and shaking my head firmly. “N—no,” I stuttered. “No.” 'How could he do this?!' I wondered. The world started spinning around me and I made myself focus on his face. 'He was detoxed. Dean detoxed him. He didn’t want it anymore. He told me he didn’t want it anymore. He told me he was done.'

Sam drew his hand back, and I closed my eyes tightly. I knew I was hurting him. I knew if I let myself look into his beautiful eyes I’d have to forgive him. But I couldn’t let myself forgive him. 'Not yet. He hurt me, too. He lied to me. About this.' “Alright,” he said quietly, turning to Dean. “I’m ready.”

I opened my eyes just in time to see the door close on him, just in time for him to give me one last pleading look, and I turned my back on him.

“C’mon,” Dean said to me, and I numbly followed him up the stairs. The words 'How could he?!' kept running through my head, and I didn’t notice that Dean had stopped until I ran into him.

“Sorry,” I mumbled. Only then did I notice just how awful he looked. 'Selfish,' I reprimanded myself. 'Sam’s his brother. Stop with the self-absorbing.' “Dean, are you--?”

“No, Gari,” he sighed. “I’m not okay. I don’t know the last time I was okay. But y’know what? I’ll manage.”

“How long will it take for Sam to…?”

“I dunno.” He stared at me for a minute, then said, “It’s not his fault, y’know.”

“How is it not his fault? He chose to drink it, didn’t he?” Dean defending Sam’s actions was the thing I least expected, and it caught me totally off guard.

Dean sighed. “Not really.” I gave him a questioning look, waiting for him to explain. “You really wanna know what we were hunting?” I nodded. “Famine.”

“Like… the Horseman?” I asked disbelievingly.

“Yeah. Like the Horseman.”

“But what does that have to do with Sam’s… addiction?” I stumbled over the word, still feeling kind of nauseous.

“Famine was infecting people, making them crave different things. Cas got addicted to red meat ‘cause of his vessel. Sam got addicted to demon blood.”

“And you?” I asked. “What did you get addicted to?”

He looked away from me for a minute, seeming to steady himself, then looked back at me. “I didn’t,” he said simply.

“And how’s that?” Dean shrugged. “Dean,” I said softly, “what happened?”

“Apparently, I’m dead inside,” he said off-handedly.

“Do what now?”

“That’s why Famine didn’t affect me. I’m the broken shell of a man.” He laughed mirthlessly and ran a hand over his face. “I mean, I guess I—I felt it, I knew, I just never acknowledged it. And with Ella, I mean, I thought it was getting better, but it’s not. It never does.”

I had absolutely no clue what to say. “Dean, I—“

“Save it, Gari,” he snapped, a little less forcefully than usual. “Don’t try to give me some bullshit story about how it’ll get better.”

“I wasn’t going to,” I whispered. “’Cause it probably won’t. I’m a realist, Dean. Usually more of a pessimist. Y’know Murphy’s Law? It’s like, ‘Anything that can go wrong, will.’ That’s my motto. So, I’m not gonna try to reassure you. I’m gonna let you deal with it in your own way, and I’m gonna deal with my issues in my own way, and we’re gonna fake a smile for Ella so she has no clue what’s going on. Then, when Sam is clean, we’ll go kill something. ‘Cause that’s just what we do. Okay?” I had the sudden, surprising urge to hug him, and I acted on it.

After a minute of shock, he hugged me back. “Thanks,” he said quietly. “Now, can you let me go? I’m kinda freaking out here.”

I laughed a little and released him, stepping back. My smile faded and I found myself staring back at the basement door. ‘It’s not his fault,’ I thought, recalling Dean’s words. 'Dean said it’s not his fault. It was Famine. He didn’t do it on purpose. He’s still my Sammy.' I almost smiled at that thought, but I held it in, not wanting to make Dean curious.

“Can I… can I go see him?” I asked hesitantly. “I want to apologize. I feel like such a bitch—“ Dean opened his mouth as if to interrupt me, but I kept talking “—more so than usual,” I amended, and Dean smirked satisfactorily, but it was soon replaced by an apologetic frown.

“I don’t think that’s such a great idea…” he said slowly.

“Oh, c’mon,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I’m not gonna let him out. I want him to be clean, too.” Dean stared at me for a minute, considering my words. “Dean, c’mon. I swear I won’t let him out. You have my word.”

A few months ago, he would’ve laughed and made some snarky comment about how my word was total bullshit, but now, things were different. We trusted each other.

“Alright,” he said finally, sighing deeply. He turned and walked toward the front door and I stared after him questioningly. He didn’t notice.

When he went outside, I walked over to the window and watched him walk into the middle of the yard. He stopped and looked up at the sky, and I could’ve sworn I saw tears in his eyes. It made my heart hurt, and I realized just how much Dean had grown on me. He was like a brother to me now. Seeing him cry was unsettling. He wasn’t supposed to cry. He was supposed to be the strong one.

Dean started talking to no one, still looking up at the sky, and I realized with a jolt that he was praying. Dean Winchester was praying.

Knowing that I had witnessed something I wasn’t supposed to see, I turned away and walked down the basement stairs, trying to think of an appropriate apology for what I had said to Sam.

I reached out to the handle of the metal door and hesitated. 'What if he’s having a fit or a hallucination or something?' I thought fearfully. 'How am I supposed to handle that?' With a shaky breath, I opened the door and stepped inside, partially closing it behind me.

Sam’s head jerked up, and there was a slightly wild look in his eyes. “Gari…” he said slowly. “Are you… are you real?”

'Oh, God. It’s already started.' I plastered on a smile and walked over to him, sitting on the edge of the cot. “Yeah, Sammy, of course I am,” I said lightly.

My words had the opposite effect of what I had intended. He slid away from me and said warily, “That’s what the other you said, too.”

I bit my lip and closed the space between us, putting a hand on his arm to stop him from moving away again. “Hey, Sammy, I promise it’s me,” I said softly. “I promise.” He seemed to relax the slightest bit, still looking cautious, and I realized that I was shaking. 'Stop it,' I ordered myself. 'Relax. You just have to be patient. He’ll know it’s you eventually.' “What did the other me do to you?” I asked hesitantly, and he tensed up again. 'Nice job calming him down.'

“What you’re doing now,” he said quietly. “You started talking to me like now.”

“And what’s so bad about that?” I asked.

“Prove you’re you,” he ordered, the crazy look in his eyes getting stronger.

“Sam,” I said firmly. “Look at me.” He reluctantly obeyed and I put my hands on either side of his face, ignoring how he fidgeted. “Do I look like a hallucination to you? Do I look fake?” He shook his head. “Do I feel fake?”

He shook his head again. “But the other you didn’t either.”

“Sammy, you have to believe it’s the real me, okay?” I persisted. “You can get past this. C’mon, look at me. Ignore how cheesy this sounds and look into my eyes.” He smiled the slightest bit and did as I said. I kissed him lightly and said, “It feels real, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, it does,” he agreed.

“So you believe me?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Okay, good. Now that that’s over with, on to more important things.” I put my hands in my lap and crossed my legs Indian-style. “I need to apologize.”

“For what?” he asked, sounding truly curious. “I would’ve freaked out, too. I know how that must’ve looked to you.”

I stared at him, shocked, then finally managed to say, “I don’t deserve you in the least.” He chuckled a little and I blushed, not totally meaning to say that, even though it was true. “So, um, d’you… How long d’you think it’ll last?” I asked, changing the subject. “You staying in here?”

“Not sure,” he said, his smile disappearing. “Never got to ride the whole thing out last time, thanks to Cas. Don’t worry about me, Gari,” he said as he noticed the look on my face. “I’ll be fine. Once it’s outta my system, we’ll go kill something and forget about this, okay?”

I nodded and said, “Okay.”

Just then, Sam’s whole body tensed. He stared right over my shoulder, his jaw clenched and his eyes filled with absolute terror. “Not again,” he whispered, his voice trembling.

“Sammy?” I asked, looking around, but no one was there. 'He’s hallucinating again. Oh, God. What do I do?' “Sammy, what d’you see?” He didn’t answer, just continued to stare over my shoulder. “Sam!” I snapped, and his eyes darted back to me. “I’m real. Whatever else you’re seeing right now isn’t! D’you hear me? It’s not real!”

“Get out,” he pleaded quietly, and it took me a minute to realize that he was addressing me. “Please, just get out. I don’t want… just go, Gari.”

“Sam…” I said reluctantly.

“Go!”

I winced, hurt by his tone, but did as he said and stood up and walked out.

Before I shut the door, I looked back at him. He was still staring at the same spot on the wall with the same exact expression. With all the willpower I had, I shut and locked the panic room door, then ran up the stairs as quick as I could.

“What’s wrong?” Dean asked, and then Sam started screaming, answering his question.

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly and put my hands over my ears. After it stopped, I asked shakily, “Can’t we do anything to help him?”

Dean shook his head, looking slightly nauseous. I knew the feeling. “He’s just gotta ride it out. What happened down there? You look like hell.”

“Same to you,” I snapped. “He’s started hallucinating already. He didn’t know if I was real. He said I’d already come to talk to him. It must’ve been something bad. He was scared of me…” I bit my lip and hesitantly asked, “Does it get worse?”

“Yeah, it does. He’ll start having fits eventually.”

“What if this kills him, Dean?” I whispered. “Last time, you never got to finish. So, you don’t know
what to expect.”

“He’ll be fine, Gari,” Dean assured me, and I allowed myself to believe him. “Why don’t you try to get some sleep?” he asked, putting a hand on my shoulder. “You look like you need it.”

I nodded and walked up the stairs to my bedroom. I lay on the bed and curled up, not bothering to take off my clothes. As Sam let out another scream, I knew full well that I wouldn’t be sleeping at all.