I'm Not Strong Enough to Stay Away

Sam started having fits after about two days.

We were alerted by the sudden lapse in his screaming, then Dean exclaimed, “Fuck!” and sprinted down the stairs, Ella and I following close behind. Dean yanked open the door and rushed to his brother, who was seizing on the floor. Right before Dean reached him, Sam lifted up off the ground and slammed into a wall.

“What’s going on?” I yelped fearfully as Dean managed to grab Sam’s wrists.

“The blood’s fighting back,” Dean growled, trying desperately to keep calm, but it wasn’t working. “Here, help me get him to the cot. Ella, see those handcuffs?” Elle nodded. “I’m gonna need you to hook them around his wrists and ankles.”

“You’re gonna tie him down?” I asked incredulously, stopping right as we were about to lift Sam’s still-seizing body onto the cot.

“He’ll hurt himself if we don’t.” I swallowed roughly and nodded, then helped Dean lift his brother. We held him down while Ella latched him to the cot. “Okay, we’re good,” Dean said, running a hand over his face like he always did when stressed. “C’mon,” he said to me.

“I can’t just leave him!” I protested, dropping down beside Sam and grabbing his hand. “Sammy, c’mon, stop it!” I whispered urgently, but he continued to jerk and twitch.

“Gari,” Dean said, softening his tone, “there’s nothing you can do. He’s just gotta ride it out.” 'I can’t leave him!' I thought desperately. 'There’s gotta be something I can do!' “He’s gotta do this by himself,” Dean continued. “C’mon. You, too, Ella.”

Ella turned to look at him, tears streaming down her pudgy cheeks. She had been watching Sam the whole time, and it was clear how much it was bothering her to leave him, too. I hadn’t realized how much she really cared about Sam. I mean, it was Ella, so she cared about everyone, but she really cared.

“O—okay,” she choked out finally. She let out a small sob and slowly left the room.

“C’mon, Gari,” Dean repeated.

“No, I’m not leaving him!” I cried, glaring up at Dean from my spot on the floor. He sighed deeply and wrapped his arms around my waist and arms, rendering me totally helpless. “No! Dean! Let me go!” I sobbed, struggling fruitlessly as Sam’s hand slipped from my grasp.

Just then, a huge spasm shook Sam, causing him to rise up, his back arching off of the cot, then slamming him back down. “Sam!” I kicked against Dean’s legs as he carried me up the stairs. “You’re killing him, Dean!” I yelled. “You’re killing your brother!”

He dropped me on the old couch in the living room and took a step back. I pulled my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, then dropped my head. I cried openly, my whole body wracked with sobs. 'He has to make it through this! We can’t have come this far for nothing! I can’t lose him!'

I felt the couch sink down and knew that Dean was beside me. He hesitantly placed his hand on my shoulder and said, “He’s gonna be okay, Gari.” He was trying to be reassuring, but the words sounded empty and hopeless. He must have realized this too, for he chose to remain silent from that moment on.

After a minute, though still hiding my face, I said, “You’d rather him die than be drinking demon blood?”

“It wouldn’t be him,” he said quietly. “You should’ve seen him when it first started. He wasn’t right. He wasn’t Sam.”

“I could deal with that!” I snapped, finally looking at him. “I’d rather him be like that than be dead!”

Dean sighed and shook his head. “You didn’t see him.”

“I don’t care!” I hissed. “I can’t—I can’t lose him, Dean,” I finished quietly. I hadn’t meant to say that, but there was no turning back now. “The people in this house—Bobby, Ella, you, and Sam—you guys are all I have. Losing Sam… I just can’t.”

Dean stared at me, shocked, then surprised me by putting his arm around me and squeezing my shoulders reassuringly. “I know, Gari.”

Just then, Bobby came in the room. “You idjits hungry?” he asked gruffly, and I could tell he was trying to take our minds off of what was going on.

“No, thanks, Bobby,” I said, wiping my eyes roughly and sniffling a little. “I, uh, I think I’m gonna go to bed. Dean, could you check on Ella?” He nodded slowly, watching me with concern in his piercing green eyes.

I stood and went up the stairs to my room, then shut and locked the door behind me. I threw myself down on the bed and finally cried myself into a restless sleep, dreaming fitfully about the small chance of things getting better.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

It had been a week of pure torture for Sam, and a week of insomnia and worry for the rest of us. I was practically climbing the walls from cabin fever and fear that Sam would never get better.

Then, exactly a week from Sam’s first episode, I felt something change. I didn’t know what it was, but something felt different.

“Dean!” a voice called from the basement, and I instantly sprang to my feet. “Hey! Dean!”

'Oh my God!' I thought joyously. 'That’s what the feeling was!'

I sprinted down the stairs, beating Dean to the panic room door, and pulled the door open hurriedly. “Sam!” I exclaimed, rushing over and dropping down beside him. He awkwardly pushed himself into a sitting position, then grinned widely at me, making my heart flutter. 'God, I missed that smile.'

“Hey, Gari,” he said warmly. “I—I think I’m clean. I feel... I dunno, different.”

“I feel it, too!” I agreed happily. He didn’t question me—he was used to my oddities by then. I started fiddling with the handcuffs, pulling a bobby pin out of my hair and getting to work.

Suddenly, a hand came out of nowhere and grabbed my wrist, stopping me right as I was about to get the first handcuff unlocked. “What’re you doing?” Dean asked quietly.

“Can’t you feel it?” I asked brightly, his suspiciousness not affecting my mood in the least. “He’s clean; I’m sure of it!”

Dean looked at his brother searchingly. “Sammy?” he asked unsurely.

“I think she’s right, Dean,” Sam said, nodding his head. “I think I’m clean. I don’t… I don’t feel it inside of me anymore.”

Dean released me reluctantly and I went back to unlocking the handcuffs. When his hands were free, Sam sat up the rest of the way, rubbing his wrists and grinning satisfactorily.

Dean gave me a sour look and said threateningly, “If you’re wrong, you’re both going back in here.” I knew he was just worried, so I dismissed his attitude and freed Sam’s legs as he went back up the stairs.

Sam put his feet on the floor and stood up, then so did I. Before he had time to even stretch, I slung my arms around his neck and locked him in a death grip. He chuckled and his arms went around me, lifting me up off the ground, and I couldn’t help the girly, excited giggle that escaped my mouth.

“I was so scared,” I confessed softly, squeezing him even tighter. “Seriously. You had me worried sick, Sammy.”

He sat me down, but left his hands on my waist, and I refused to let him go. “I know,” he said guiltily. “I’m sorry.”

I stood on my tiptoes and kissed him briefly. “Just don’t do it again,” I admonished sternly, becoming flat-footed again, but my face broke into another smile as he gave me those puppy dog eyes. He pressed his lips to mine and his hand slid under the hem of my shirt, leaving a trail of goose bumps. I rose back up onto my tiptoes to deepen the kiss, twining my fingers in his shaggy hair.

I pulled away after a minute and said, “God, I missed you.”

“Of course you did,” he said cockily, and I rolled my eyes.

“Are we really gonna have to have the whole ‘becoming your brother’ conversation again?” I asked with mock exasperation. I kissed him again, then took his hand and pulled him after me up the stairs.

“What are we doing?” he asked curiously.

“You guys said we could go kill something!” I said excitedly. “Man, am I ready to go kill something!”

His laugh made me feel weightless and carefree, and I knew that nothing—not even the Apocalypse—could make this a bad day.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

The next week, however, was full of bad days.

We had a case that was actually in Sioux Falls. Death was responsible (yes, the Horseman).The dead started rising, including Bobby’s wife. She had given us a warning. Apparently, Mr. Satan thought we were a threat and his little pet King of All Reapers was coming after Bobby for helping Sam continue to say no.

It had been a hard time, and Bobby still hadn’t gotten over it. And who would? He had to kill his wife twice. No one should have to do that.

Anyway, the next week had us in another run-down hotel. Ella and I were in one room and the boys were in the one right beside us. In the middle of the night, after we had been sleeping for a few hours, a loud gunshot woke us up.

“That… what's that?” Ella asked groggily, rubbing her eyes.

“Sounded like a—“ Another shot sounded and I was instantly alert. “Gunshot!” I exclaimed, leaping out of bed and slinging open the door without even worrying about the fact that I was in a tank top and skimpy underwear.

The boys’ door opened as I reached it, and two redneck-looking men stepped out.

“Well, hey there,” one of the men said with a sleazy grin. Without hesitation, I drew my fist back and punched him on the nose so hard that he fell back into the other guy, completely unconscious.

“Walt!” the other exclaimed, backing further into the hotel room.

I stormed over to him and shoved him into a wall, slipping out my dagger and pressing it to his throat in one fluid motion. “Ella, check on the boys,” I ordered, and she obeyed without question. “Who are you?” I demanded of the man.

“Roy!” he coughed. “I’m Roy!”

“What the fuck are you doing here, Roy?”

Just then, Ella gasped despairingly. “Gari!” she cried. “They—they’re dead!”

“What?” I spun around quickly, dropping Roy to the ground with a loud thud. He started trying to get away, so, without looking, I slung my hand out behind me and said, “Stay,” holding him to the wall with my powers.

I ran over to Sam’s lifeless form and gasped. Blood was all over his stomach and his hand was limply hanging off the bed. I put two fingers to his throat, but there was no pulse. 'Oh, God, no!' “Sam?” I said hesitantly. “Sammy!” I cried. “Sam! Wake up!”

“Gari,” Ella said quietly, sniffling loudly, but I ignored her.

“Sam, please!” I shook him roughly, breaking into hysterics. “Sam! I just got you back! You can’t leave me!”

“Gari!” Ella said sternly, grabbing my arm and pulling me to my feet. “This isn’t helpin’ anythin’! I’m gonna go call Bobby. You needa chill out. Go take a shower or somethin’. They always calm ya down.” She led me out of the boys’ room and I followed numbly. “Be back in a sec,” she said, pulling out her cell phone and shutting the door behind her.

I walked into the bathroom and undressed, then stepped under the hot water. Ella was right; I was already calming down. Hot water just had that effect on me.

As I let the stream from the showerhead flow over me, I realized something startling. I was always so protective of Ella, treating her like she was this defenseless little girl, when, in reality, she was doing a pretty good job of taking care of herself. And now, she was protecting me.

'They’re not really dead,' I thought. 'They’re too important. Some powerful being somewhere will bring them back. They have to come back. We can’t have gone through all of this for nothing.'

I got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around my body. Ella was sitting on the corner of our bed, looking deep in thought. “Bobby doesn’t know what to do,” she told me. “He was really stressin’ the point that we don’t do anythin’ stupid.”

“What, like selling our souls?” I said dryly, though I wasn’t really joking.

“Funny,” she said, though I could tell she was considering it, too.

“We could call Cas…” I said, thinking aloud.

“Cas?” Ella asked. “The angel?” I nodded. “Call him!” she said eagerly.

“I don’t really know if a former-still-kinda-half-atheist can summon an angel.”

“Of course you can,” another voice said, and I let out an embarrassing shriek of alarm. Ella and I turned and stared at the trench-coated angel, both sharing looks of absolute shock.

“Cas!” I yelped. “Don’t do that!”

“The Winchesters are in Heaven,” Castiel said calmly. “I’ve been in contact with them.”

“So… so they really are dead?” Ella asked hesitantly.

“Yes. But I believe they will be back.”

“What the fuck are you talking about, Cas?” I asked, throwing my arms up in exasperation.

“They didn’t tell you?” the angel asked, mildly surprised.

“Tell us what?” Elle prompted.

“I would have expected them to tell you,” he mused, seemingly to himself, then he looked back up at us. “No matter. They both have died before. They have a knack for returning.”

“Wait, so you’re tellin’ me Sam and Dean’ve been dead?”

“Yes, Sam only once before now, but Dean many times. I brought him back the last time,” Castiel said, sounding more than a little proud of himself. “My point is… the Winchester brothers have someone looking out for them. Someone very high up has great plans for them.”

“You mean like… God?” Elle asked, her mouth hanging open in awe.

“I’m… not sure,” Cas said, looking down at his feet.

“Cas, what’s wrong?” I asked, studying the angel curiously.

“Nothing. It’s not of import.”

I chose not to comment on that, instead saying, “Ella, what happened to Walt and Roy?” Ella giggled nervously. “Elle, what did you do?”

“I… I kinda hogtied them and locked them in the boys’ bathroom,” she admitted. “We’ll deal with them later, ‘kay?”

“No, I’ll deal with them now,” I growled, getting to my feet.

“Gari—“

“I can get rid of them, if you prefer,” Cas offered helpfully.

“That’d be nice,” Ella said, grabbing my arm and pulling me back down. “I don’t wanna let Gari get a hold of them.”

I glared at her and said fiercely, “They deserve to die, Elle! They killed Sam and Dean! Even if they are gonna come back, those bastards still deserve to die!”

“So you’re gonna go in there and kill a couple of humans?” she asked skeptically.

“Yes!” I faltered a little. “No… I dunno. They deserve to die. I’m positive about that.”

“But ya know ya can’t kill them.”

'I dunno, I don’t think I’d have that big of a problem with it. But she’s right. I shouldn’t.'

“No, I can’t,” I sighed, then turned to Cas. “Yeah, I don’t care what you do with them. Just get them outta here.” He nodded and got to his feet. I stopped him before he left the room. “So… you’re sure they’ll be back?”

“I’m almost certain,” the angel said as he went outside. 'Keyword: almost.'

“’Kay, so, now we wait?” Ella asked, and I nodded.

“Now we wait.”

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

A few hours later, we were back in the boys’ room, finally having decided to sit and wait in there for them to wake up.

“It should be soon,” Castiel said, propping his head on his hand and staring at the brothers’ bodies.

As if on cue, Sam gasped loudly and sat up, his hands going to his stomach and feeling the place where he’d been shot. Dean soon followed suit.

Ella and I simultaneously leapt to our feet. “Sam!” I yelped, throwing myself on top of him. “What happened to the whole ‘no more worrying me’ thing? This was worse than the panic room! You died!”

He blushed a little and said sheepishly, “Sorry…” I kissed him lightly, then let him go as I felt the odd looks we were getting from Dean and Ella.

“Do I get a welcome like that?” Dean asked Ella hopefully, wiggling his eyebrows.

Ella scoffed and snapped, “The hell ya do! What d’ya think you’re doin’, scarin’ me like that? You—are—such—a—dick!” She punctuated each word with a punch to Dean’s arm and he tried fruitlessly to push her back.

“I’m sorry!” he exclaimed. “I didn’t mean to! Gari, would ya help me out, here?”

Sam and I laughed and I shook my head. “No way, man,” I said, grinning. “You’ve gotta deal with this on your own.”

“What did I do?” he asked Ella bewilderedly as he continued to ward off her punches. “It’s not my fault I got shot!”

“I—know—but—I’m—just—so—mad!” she yelled. After a minute, she calmed down and let her hands drop to her sides. Then she pulled a truly Ella move: she flung herself at Dean and started furiously kissing him.

“Oh, God,” I said quietly, and I lifted up my hand to cover Sam’s eyes. “Don’t look, Sammy; it’s too disgusting,” I joked, receiving a distracted glare from Dean and a loud laugh from Sam.

Castiel cleared his throat, ruining their moment completely (thankfully). “What did you discover?” he asked the boys, and the mood in the room drastically changed from light and happy to dark and depressing.

“We believe now,” Sam said brightly, and it seemed to me like he was trying to lessen the blow of what was about to come.

“Joshua said God’s gone,” Dean said, giving it to the angel straight. Castiel’s face fell, and puppy dog eyes that were almost as pathetic as Sam’s appeared. “He knows what’s going on, knows what we’re facing, but he doesn’t care.”

“Maybe… maybe Joshua was lying.” Cas said, trying to be hopeful, but his voice was hollow.

“I don’t think he was, Cas. I’m sorry,” Sam said quietly.

The angel turned his back on us and turned his face to the ceiling, glaring up at Heaven through the cracked plaster. “You son of a bitch,” he hissed, his voice shaking with fury and disappointment. “I believed in—“ He turned back to us and sighed, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling something out of it. “I don’t need this anymore.” He threw whatever it was to Dean, who shook it out, exposing a bronze amulet. “It’s worthless.”

“Cas, wait,” Sam said hurriedly, but there was a flap of wings and the crestfallen angel was gone.

“What’s that?” Ella asked Dean, but he ignored her, still staring down at the amulet.

“We’ll find another way,” Sam said determinedly, turning to his brother. “We can still stop all this, Dean.”

Dean finally looked up, and the hopelessness on his face shocked me. “How?”

“I don’t know,” Sam admitted, “but we’ll find it. You and me, we’ll find it.”

“Don’t forget us!” Ella piped up, kissing Dean’s cheek reassuringly.

Dean stared at Sam for a minute, and I could tell that he didn’t believe a single word that Sam said.
I looked at Sam and I knew that he could tell, too.

“Dean, honey, what’s wrong?” Ella asked worriedly. Dean shook his head, grabbed his bag, then walked toward the door. “Dean, c’mon.”

Avoiding all of our eyes, the older Winchester paused at the door and let the amulet drop into the trash can, then walked out. Ella followed him doggedly.

Sam sighed deeply and ran a hand through his hair. He walked over to the trash can and bent over. When he came back up, I could see the amulet gleaming faintly in the dim lamplight.

“What’s the deal with the necklace?” I asked as I walked over to him.

“I gave it to Dean when we were kids,” Sam said quietly, tightening his hand around the charm. “I’m not letting him throw it away.” I got the feeling that he wasn’t just talking about the amulet.

“C’mon,” I said softly. “Let’s get outta here.” Sam glanced at me, then back down at the amulet, finally shoving it into his pocket. I grabbed his bag and started to sling it over my shoulder, but he took it from me with a small smile. I twined my fingers in his and led him out of the hotel room.

I’d never felt so glad to be free of a place.