I'm Not Strong Enough to Stay Away

Three hours later, I was sitting on a cot in the middle of Bobby Singer’s panic room, like I had been since I’d quit yelling.

I was furious. Not only had I been locked in a panic room for no reason at all, but Dean wouldn’t even tell me what his supposed reason was!

'What the hell did Dean mean by “get it out of your system?!” Get what out of my system?! What, does he think I’m some kind of druggie or something?! Am I being detoxed?!' This irritated me so badly that I could think of absolutely nothing else.

Just then, the grate opened and Dean’s green eyes stared through, still gleaming triumphantly. “Comfy?” he asked sarcastically.

Ignoring his snide remark, I stood up and walked over to the door. “Why did you put me in here? I went without a fight; you at least owe me an explanation.”

“You can drop the act,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “You know why you’re in there. You’re all hyped up on demon blood, and you’re not getting out till it’s outta your system.”

I was too baffled to protest. “Wait, what?!” I asked, completely and utterly clueless. “Demon blood?! What are you talking about?!”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes again. “You’re immune to demon powers and you made that little girl cough up smoke with your mind. You got another explanation for that?” He cocked an eyebrow expectantly.

“I—“ 'What can I tell him? That I was born with some freaky powers that enable me to do all sorts of weird shit, including telepathically killing demons? Yeah, right. He’ll kill me if I tell him that, and he wouldn’t even wait for me to elaborate. God, hunters are so narrow minded.' “I… can’t tell you,” I said finally, looking down at my feet.

“Hmph. That’s what I thought. Gotta hand it to ya, though, Gari. You’re pretty good at acting clueless,” he said, and I could just see the corners of his mouth turn up in a twisted smile. “Have fun in there.” He started to back away then, and I panicked.

“I’m not acting!” I protested frantically, almost pressing my face against the grate. “I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about!”

“Right,” he said, drawing the word out. He closed the grate, chuckling to himself.

“Dean!” I yelled. “Dean, come back!” I heard him start to ascend the stairs. “Dean! At least tell me if Sam's okay!”

I heard him come back down the stairs and the grate re-opened soon after. “Why d’you wanna know?” he asked curiously. “You hate us, remember?”

“I just hate you, dumbass,” I snapped, rolling my eyes.

“Um, why?” he asked, looking truly puzzled. “I haven’t done anything to you.”

“Oh, really?” I said scathingly. “Hm, well, first you told me that I wasn’t as capable a hunter as you are, then you brought up my dad, then you somehow got Elle on your side, and now, well, now you locked me in a fucking panic room for no goddamn reason!” I was literally shaking with fury and annoyance. 'How thick can you get?!' I fumed in my head. “Now, will you please just tell me how your brother is so I can stop worrying about him and go back to doing more important things, like plotting your death?!”

“Sam’s fine,” Dean said curtly. “We’ve had worse.” With that, he shut the grate again and stomped up the stairs.

“My God,” I raged aloud, “when I get outta here, I’m gonna kill him.” And boy, did I mean it.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

I don’t know when I fell asleep, but I started dreaming almost immediately. However, this dream was different that any other I’d ever had before.

I was in Bobby Singer’s living room, sitting on the worn out sofa beside Dean. 'Why Dean? Why not Sam? I hate Dean; you’d think my subconscious mind would’ve picked up on that.'

I was slumped in my seat, arms crossed tightly across my chest in some form of defiance. “Why are y’all doin’ this?!” I shot at Dean, and as soon as I noticed the high-pitched, Southern accent that escaped my mouth, I realized that I wasn’t me, I was Ella.

At that moment, I knew that I wasn’t having just a random dream and that the conversation that I was witnessing was actually currently going on at the moment. 'Well, there’s another thing to add to my list of reasons why I’m a freak.'

“Dean, this is stupid,” Sam said quietly, still looking majorly pissed, though he seemed to have gotten control of his anger. “She doesn’t even know what’s going on. You really think Gari could hide that from her?”

“You hid it from me,” Dean shot back, and Sam narrowed his eyes.

“You really think Gari would hide it from her?” he amended tersely.

“Personally,” Dean replied, “I think she’s capable of anything. Remember how it changed you?”

Sam purposely ignored the question, saying instead, “We should at least tell her your theory.”

“What theory?” Ella asked curiously.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Dean agreed, turning to Elle. “Ella, Gari’s been drinking demon blood. That’s how she was able to resist that demon’s mojo and how she was hurting it with her mind.”

Ella busted out laughing, and I couldn’t help but think, 'Atta girl.' “’Gari’s been drinkin’ demon blood?’” she mocked, using a deep voice in an attempt to imitate Dean. “Really? That’s ridiculous!”

Dean gave her an odd look and Sam rolled his eyes at Dean, obviously saying, “See?”

“Um, Ella, I’m serious,” Dean said slowly, and Ella laughed even harder, holding her stomach and almost rolling around on the couch.

“Really now? And how d’ya figure?” Ella asked, still giggling. “S’there some kinda test?”

“No, there isn’t,” Sam answered, looking pointedly at his brother. “There is no way to tell for sure.”

“But I’m goin’ on instinct here,” Dean said stubbornly. “And instinct says she is.”

“Your instinct’s not always right,” Sam contradicted. “You thought Cas was some high-level demon, remember?”

Dean chose to ignore Sam’s point, turning to Ella again. “You trust me, right?” he asked, giving her his own, weaker version of Sam’s puppy dog eyes. 'Nope, won’t work,' I thought smugly.
“Yeah, I do,” Ella said finally. 'Huh?!'

“Then trust me on this,” he said. “And even if you don’t agree, at least lemme keep her in there a few days. Just to be sure.” 'Oh, God,' I thought, horrorstruck, as he placed his hand on her thigh and looked at her pleadingly. 'She’s gonna cave! No, no, no!'

“Alright…” she said reluctantly. “Five days. That’s all. She gets out after that.”

“Deal,” Dean said, smirking victoriously. Something told me he wouldn’t keep his word. 'Maybe it’s my instinct,' I thought mockingly.

“Can I go see her?” Ella asked.

“I don’t really think that’s such a good idea,” he replied. “Bobby’ll take care of her. Don’t worry.”

She nodded, having complete faith in Dean. Sam rolled his eyes and looked away from the two of them, clenching his jaw in annoyance. 'Well, at least you’re still on my side, Sammy,' I thought with a mental sigh as I woke up.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

Two days later, the panic room door opened and Sam walked in. He closed the door behind him and leaned against it, gazing around the room with a bitter look on his face.

I sat quietly for a minute, watching him as he seemed to be lost in memories, none of which could be too good. “Hey, you okay?” I asked him finally.

“Hm?” he said distractedly. “Oh, yeah. Ha, that’s what I was gonna ask you.”

“Well, I’m just peachy,” I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes. “This shithole is just fucking fantastic.”
He gave a small chuckle, then let his eyes jump from the Devil’s trap on the floor to the one on the ventilation fan in the ceiling. “Hey, Sammy?” I said hesitantly. “What happened? You know, to get you in here?”

“Uh, it’s… complicated,” he said reluctantly.

“C’mon, Sammy. You can tell me.” He didn’t reply, but he looked like he was thinking really hard about something. “You were on it, weren’t you?” I asked, biting my lip in fear of how he was going to react. “Demon blood? That’s why Dean thinks I’m on it, isn’t it?”

He sighed deeply and walked over to me, sitting down on the other end of the cot. He ran a hand through his shaggy hair, something I knew he did whenever he was majorly stressed or uncomfortable. Funny, I had only known him for a little while, but I had been subconsciously watching him so closely that I knew all of his habits. 'Yep, I’m definitely attached.'

“Yeah,” he said at last. “I used to…. Well, that’s why he…”

“Hey…” I said softly, hesitantly reaching out to lay my hand on his forearm. “You don’t have to tell me. Just knowing you actually believe me is good enough, okay?”

He shot me a furtive glance, then looked away again.“Long story short,” he said, “I have demon blood in me already. This demon named Azazel fed his blood to me when I was six months old. When I was twenty-two, I started having these death visions in the form of nightmares, and then they started happening when I was awake, too. I even moved a cabinet with my mind once. About two years ago, I met this demon, Ruby, and we—well, I—thought she was good. I mean, she helped us out all the time, and she was different. Dean never trusted her, but I did. God, I was an idiot. She showed me this way to kill demons with my mind—like you do—but I had to power up first. By drinking—“

“Demon blood…” I interrupted, finally realizing why Dean thought that of me. “Oh. I get it now. And, what? He detoxed you or something? Like he’s trying to do to me?”

“Yeah, the Devil’s traps and everything bugged the demon part of me. Plus, I had withdrawals from not getting any more of…. Well, I started hallucinating and having fits and finally, I got out.”

“But how? It’s locked from the outside.”

“Castiel let me out. He’s the guy who saved us from Lucy. He’s an angel.”

“An angel?!” I said incredulously. “No way. There’s no such thing!”

“That’s what Dean thought, too. Until we met Cas.”

“But if he’s an angel, why the hell would he let a half-demon out?! It doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, that was before Cas was really on our side. See, the angels all wanted the Apocalypse to happen. ‘It is written’ and all that crap.”

“But what do you guys have to do with the Apocalypse?” I felt strangely calm for some reason. Yeah, it was insane. I was sitting in a panic room in an old man’s basement conversing about the Apocalypse like it was no big deal with an ex-demon blood junkie. But I didn’t think about how weird it was. I just wanted to understand Sam, and even Dean. By what Sam had said so far, I knew they didn’t have an easy life—no hunter did, but theirs seemed worse.

Sam laughed uneasily and ran a hand through his hair again. “The angels told Dean that he was supposed to ‘stop it,’ that he would have a very important part to play. But they didn’t tell him what to stop, or when. And Cas let me out because… because I was supposed to start the Apocalypse.” I was shocked so badly that I couldn’t even form a coherent thought; I just sat and stared, waiting for Sam to explain further and for my mind to process his confession. “Lilith—another demon—was breaking the seals. There were 600, but only 66 had to be broken. I thought I was stopping her from breaking the last seal and releasing Lucifer from his cage, but Lilith was the final seal, and when I killed her, I set the Devil free.”

I was dumbstruck for a moment more, then finally managed, “But it wasn’t your fault! It’s not like you knew Lilith was the final seal! You thought you were saving the world, Sam! How can anyone blame you for that?”

“People see the world in black and white, Gari, you know that. And the road to Hell—“

“Oh, shut up!” I snapped angrily, leaping to my feet. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself, Sammy! If you feel regret, then go find a way to fix it!”

“We tried,” he protested weakly. “We used the Colt, but it didn’t work.”

“The Colt?!” I repeated disbelievingly. “The Colt?! And it didn’t work?!”

“He said it couldn’t kill five things, and he just happened to be one of them. We risked our lives and got friends, good people, killed. For nothing.”

I didn’t know how to respond to that. “Did you at least kill that demon bitch—Ruby, wasn’t it? She’s the one who told you to stop Lilith, right?”

Sam actually cracked a small smile at that. “Yeah, she’s gone. Stabbed with her own knife. Thank Dean for that.”

“I just might,” I said thoughtfully.

“C’mon,” he said suddenly, standing up.

“Where are we going?”

“To try to convince Dean that he’s wrong.”

“Sounds like a hopeless case,” I said with a grin.

“Probably. But who knows?” Sam opened the door and walked out of the panic room with me right behind him, rejoicing at the possibility of getting out. But my happiness was short-lived.

“What d’you think you’re doing?” said Dean, stepping out from the shadows. 'Shit.'

“Shit,” Sam cursed quietly, echoing my thoughts.

“Why’d you let her out?” Dean asked him, eyebrow cocked expectantly.

“I told you, Dean. She’s not on it.” Sam stepped in front of me, halfway blocking me from his brother’s view.

“How can you tell?”

“I just can, okay?” he said defensively. “I know the symptoms, remember? She’s been in there two days, and she’s not having withdrawals or hallucinations or fits or anything.” He crossed his arms, striking a very impressive figure (he was like 6’4”, after all).

“Maybe she hasn’t been in there long enough,” Dean contradicted.

“Cut the bullshit, Dean. I started hallucinating just a few hours after I went in. She’s been in there two days. Think about it.”

“You should listen to him, Deano,” I piped up. “He makes a valid point.”

“You shut up!” Dean snapped at me. “This isn’t about you!”

“Uh, yeah, dude. It kinda is,” I replied with an eye roll. “You’re discussing whether I’m drinking demon blood. It’s completely about me.” That stopped him talking for a minute, and I couldn’t help but smirk a little. “You’re sure there’s no way I can prove I’m clean?”

“No, there isn’t,” Dean said flatly.

“Dammit, Dean!” Sam exclaimed. “She’s not on it!”

“I don’t care what you say, Sammy. She’s goin’ back in there, and if I have to, I’ll put you in there, too.”

As soon as Dean said that, I made up my mind that I was definitely going back in that panic room, no matter how much Sam fought for me. I wasn’t letting Sam go back in there, not after everything that must have happened to him.

“Alright, I’ll go back in,” I said, and Sam immediately opened his mouth to protest. “Sammy, really. There’s no point in both of us being locked up for no reason. Though I bet it’d be a hell of a lot more entertaining.”

Sam blushed faintly and Dean looked quite disgusted, which I thought was hilarious. “Then get your ass in there,” he said finally, making a face.

“Gari, you sure about this?” Sam asked me, giving me a slightly less powerful form of his puppy dog eyes that made me feel like a giddy teenager.

“Totally,” I assured him with a careless shrug. “But, Dean?” Dean gave me an amused look and nodded. “Can you bring me a book or something? If I’m not getting your little brother, I’m gonna need something else to entertain myself.”

I figured the look of absolute revulsion on his face would be enough payback for the time being.