Fear Itself

Killing Kennedy? I didn’t know if I was more embarrassed or offended. My stomach felt heavy and frozen over, suddenly struck with a terrible feeling of cold. I couldn’t let them see my fright, so I faced my friends, my leaders, with a tight-lipped smile. “And when were you planning on telling me?”

“We meant to,” Sam murmured. “But realistically, based on some of your past reactions, especially during missions, we thought it would be best if we didn’t tell you.” Sam spoke in his normal, hurried fashion, but his voice was softer. His brown eyes were cast downward.

“So you didn’t want me to freak out, in other words,” I scowled. As if Sam was one to talk about panicking, as if he had any right to comment. Sam lived his entire life like he was prey being stalked in a dark jungle, constantly shivering and snapping his head around like danger lurked in every corner. He spent his life hiding away, and he had the audacity to comment on my nervous response. My hands began to clench into fists at my sides as Chandler skirted around me to start rummaging through his suitcases.

Sam’s lips pressed together in a tight grimace as he visibly swallowed the lump in his throat. “It’s n-not meant to offend,” he offered. Fantastic. What a great time for Sam to work on his people skills and empathy. “But you almost g-got shot during the robbery, and you had an anxiety attack during the riot. You almost got seriously hurt, and if Avery hadn’t been there—“

“Sounds like your friends here think you’re a liability, sunshine,” Cas laughed, strolling over and leaning against the table and looking to me with his arms folded over his chest and a small smirk crossing his features.

“And it sounds like this isn’t your business,” I snapped, glowering at him. Only days had passed, and Casper was only sinking further from my good graces. The more I saw him, the more I hated him. The more he spoke, the more I wished he simply didn’t exist. My comment seemed to wipe the grin straight off his face. I thought perhaps he had murmured an apology before he stood up again; My attention was on Sam and Dean. “You were just going to let me go out there blind?” I huffed. Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable. “You weren’t even going to tell me?”

“Blondie,” Dean chuckled under his breath and shook his head, leaning toward me. “Let’s be realistic.” He cleared his throat. “You’re prone to bad reactions—maybe it’s nerves, or maybe it’s hormones, I don’t know—and this is a high-stakes mission. It’s incredibly important that this goes smoothly.” His blue eyes glanced up to me as he shrugged. “It just seemed logical to keep you in the dark. Cas and I agreed it makes it easier for someone like you to handle.”

Chandler dropped what he was doing, and his head snapped to look at Dean. Dean was staring at me, and I didn’t know which way to look because my teeth were grinding, and my muscles were shaking, and I wanted Dean to continue, even though I wanted to slap him across the face. Bits of moisture traced my skin as I took a slow, steady breath. Calmly, I murmured, “And what do you mean by ‘someone like me?’”

“I think he means that you’re a woman,” Chandler interjected, words stung with a sharp tone. “What Dean is trying to say is that because you’re a woman, you’re incompetent and overemotional and that the copious amounts of estrogen coursing through your feminine veins will cause you overreact and cower in fear at the slightest hint of danger. Therefore, it’s absolutely illogical to inform you of the mission they’re sending you on because your womanly cowardice will get in the way of their masculine pride.” His eyebrows bounced above the lenses of his sunglasses for a moment. “Isn’t that right, Dean?” Chandler didn’t wait for an answer before he snapped, “Dean I think we need to have a little talk.”

Little hesitance showed in Chandler’s movement before he promptly dragged Dean off to the other side of the room, all the way where we couldn’t hear them speak. Granted, nobody needed to hear them to know that Chandler was going to rip Dean a new one.

“Damn,” Cas commented with hooting laughter. “He’s about to get it, man. I’ve never seen Chandler Jacques lose his cool before.” His head dropped as he laughed again. “Damn.”

Casper’s shoulders shook with amusement, but all I could think about was smashing his head against the table. The pounding in my ears was blocking out all rationality, and I was consumed by a thirst for blood that I had never known before. It didn’t matter that Chandler was scolding Dean. It didn’t even matter that Dean was acting like a misogynist moron. I had never seen him act like this, not ever, not until the Americans got here. A twitchy feeling rushed over me as my eyes fixated on Casper and only Casper: the rest of the room behind him disappeared into blurs of color and fog.

“You need to leave,” I told him straight. He was the one who had caused this. He brought everyone here, he dragged the trouble with him, and he brought it down the elevator on his back. Now, it was spreading like a virus, and Cas was ruining everything.

“Sorry, what?” Cas laughed awkwardly. His eyes were widened with just one brow quirked. “Okay,” he relented as the information finally sank through his thick skull. “I’ll go back to my room, and you can chill out—“

“No,” I interjected, not caring about what he had to say. When it came down to it, Casper’s opinion didn’t matter. He was going to leave whether he liked it or not. He was going to pack up and head back to the states, even if I had to make him. “You and your men are going to pack your things and leave.”

“Um—“ Casper’s hand reached back around his neck. “Pack our things and leave?” He tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes like he didn’t understand. Well, I had never pegged him to be particularly bright.

I rolled my eyes and scoffed, “Yes. Do you require more explanation, or do you get it?”

Blinking, Casper’s mouth fell apart just slightly. He raised his arms just a little with his palms up as though he was surrendering. It was a little late for that. “Listen, your highness. We’re just trying to help—“

“Yeah, well, we don’t need it!” I snapped. “We don’t need your help. We never needed your help! We were doing just fine on our own!” Weren’t we? We had made incredible progress in the last couple of months, and we had done it all without Casper or the Americans or Dean’s father, who was a problem of a magnitude all his own.

“Okay, alright.” Cas scratched at his cheek, then slipped his hand down to rub the stubble on his chin. “Look, maybe you, Dean, and I should have this talk together and—“

Noticing that Casper’s arms were raised and left his center open, I didn’t give him time to finish his sentence. The sharp jab of my fingers just under his right ribcage knocked the wind and the words right out of him, left him stumbling back a bit. With hawk-like precision my hand shot out and locked around his wrist, and my other gripped tight to his forearm. “You’re going to leave,” I snarled. “Do you understand, Collins?”

“Jesus—fuck!” he exclaimed, gasping for air and staring at me with his so large they looked almost entirely white. His eyes fell on my arm, and his chest shook and rattled, struggling to recover. “Please,” he sputtered. “Get your hands off me.”

I tightened my grip and twisted his arm. “Only if you tell me you’re leaving.”

“I can’t—“ Casper whimpered, grimacing. Satisfaction thumped proudly in my chest at the sight of his pain, but it was whisked away when I felt a pair of arms envelop me and pull me off of him. Casper fell backward, stumbling to the ground and panting.

“Blondie!” Dean exclaimed, tightening in his grip on me while I squirmed and kicked in his arms, flailing wildly in an attempt to leap back at Casper. “Blondie, what hell—“ He ducked his head as my arm swung back at him. “—Has gotten into you?”

“Let go!” I shrieked, fighting as hard as I could to get him off of me but to no avail. Dean simply held tighter, arching back when he needed to avoid my swings as he lifted me away from Casper. Chandler stood just feet away, standing shocked and frozen in place, but I wasn’t concerned with composing myself. All I was concerned with was getting Casper out of my life at any and all costs.

“No can do, Blondie,” Dean said with a wary laugh. “You almost killed Cas.”

“Exactly!” I wailed, beating my fist against his chest just twice more before I just felt heavy and bent. My stomach was knotted, and I gasped like I couldn’t breathe. I slumped over in Dean’s arms, and my throat tightened, almost like it wanted to close up on me and choke me. My eyes stung as I looked around, and I realized that I had attracted quite the audience. “What the hell are you looking at?” I snapped just as I collapsed into sobs.

Dean carried me out of sight rather swiftly, ushering me into my own room, away from the stunned eyes of the rest of the Brotherhood. When the door slid shut behind us, Dean set me back on my feet, looking at me incredulously as he brought a hand to his forehead. “Bloody hell, Blondie!” he exclaimed. “Do you care to explain what the hell you thought you were doing out there? You almost took Cas’s arm off!”

“I didn’t… I didn’t mean to,” I murmured, scrubbing a hand over my face. I shouldn’t have hit Casper. I shouldn’t have even brought it up. Here I was, punishing Cas when he wasn’t even the one at fault. This was my fault, wasn’t it? I could feel my cheeks starting to burn.

“You didn’t mean to?” Dean scoffed. “Blondie, you flew at him like a fighter jet. You looked like you would have killed him if I hadn’t stopped you.”

No, I wouldn’t have. That wasn’t true. I messed up, but I wouldn’t have killed him. I pressed my hands against my cheeks as I started to cry again, and I looked at the floor because Dean’s accusing stare had my knees wobbling. “Stop!” I cried. “I wouldn’t have! Stop it!”

“You would have, and you know it,” he persisted. I clenched my eyes shut tightly, so all I could see was the blackness. Something about that felt better somehow. “Blondie, you’ve gotta knock this off.”

“Why am I the one in trouble?” I shouted, mouth unable to turn the slightest bit upward. My eyes squinted under the weight of my sinking eyebrows, and tears flowed over the brim of bottom lids. “I’m not the one parading around like I’m Commander Kennedy himself!”

“Don’t you dare,” Dean protested, crossing his arms over his chest and shaking his head. “I’m nothing like him.”

“You sure are acting like it!” I gave a mocking laugh, mirroring the way he folded his arms. “Yeah, I almost tried to break Casper’s arm, but I was doing it to help us. Yeah, maybe it sounds ridiculous but I was. You didn’t start acting this way until Cas showed up.” I paused and dropped my head. Voice cracking, I continued, “Until your father showed up.” I shook my head and whimpered. “I just wanted them to leave so we could go back—you know, to when everything was okay. To before your father stumbled back here and ruined everything.”

“I don’t know what you’re getting at,” Dean sighed, voice softer than before but uneasy.

I sobbed so hard my shoulders shook. Protectively, I wrapped my arms tightly around myself. “Fine. If you don’t want to own up to your daddy issues and keep taking everything out on me, that’s fine,” I sniffled. “But I’m not your punching bag, Dean. It’s not right.”

“I don’t have any problems with my father,” Dean huffed, throwing his arms out for emphasis, like he didn’t know what I was talking about. What a stubborn fool.

I finally lifted my eyes to look at him, eyes narrowed when I shook my head. Shaking the sudden stiffness in my jaw, I questioned, “Why won’t you talk to him then?” Dean’s expression pinched up like there was something he wanted to stop himself from saying. I wiped the tears out of my eyes and raised my eyebrows. “Huh?” I persisted. “What’s that Dean? I can’t hear you. I think my ear’s clogged up with all that bullshit you’re spewing.”

“Fine,” Dean relented with a puffy, unsatisfied sort of sigh. “Fine, I’ll talk to him.” His voice was nothing above a mutter before he turned to exit, shaking his head the whole way.