Fear Itself

Packing up Dean’s things (as most of mine had already been moved down to the Hangar, save for Ralph) was one of the most harrowing experiences I could ever imagine. It had seemed so trivial before we started. We were just packing up his important belongings and going back to the Hangar, where we would stay for while. It wasn’t until we started that everything seemed to hold some kind of memory. Our wedding photos were the first things we grabbed, for obvious reasons. Our clothing was next. Chandler’s suits followed because Dean refused to leave them. Even things as frivolous as his favorite cologne left my lips curved in a soft smile and my eyes prickled with tears.

None of these items were traditionally sentimental. They weren’t things like first blankets, or teddy bears, or old photographs. Dean and I didn’t have any of those. Mostly, we had new memories, and somehow, that freshness made everything even worse. We were just beginning to build our life together, just beginning to settle in. We were finally comfortable, and wanted, and safe, and loved: everything a family should have been. Now, we had to pack up and go. For Dean, this was all business, just something he had to do. For me, this just another time to leave a place I used to feel secure in, another opportunity to walk out the front door and never look back. It was another chance for me to wander outside and feel helpless and lost.

Bags were stuffed full of necessities and loaded into Dean’s SUV, the same one he put me in after I almost died in the League towers. With every trip we made between the luggage and the car, the house looked a little more empty and little less lived-in. It was even worse once Dean tore the house apart to dig out all the extra supplies and weapons he had stashed.

We stood in the bedroom one last time as Dean put a leash on Winston. I couldn’t take my eyes off the bed. Safe, warm, comforting. Everything felt okay in that bed, when I was laying there with Dean. It was our own little space, our own haven where could be together and nothing else mattered, not the Brotherhood, not the League, and not even the persistent beeping of Dean’s alarm clock at six o’clock in the morning.

His voice rang loud and clear, piercing through my daze. “You wanna stay, don’t you?” he asked.

“No,” I lied, drawing out the vowel and shaking my head, sniffing. “No, it’s… we can go. We have to go.”

A smile wavered on his face. He dropped Winston’s leash and walked over to kiss me. “It’s fine, babe,” he told me softly, but his voice lacked enthusiasm. “I moved a few times when I was kid,” he explained. “This is gonna work out. Just trust me on this one, okay? When have I lied to you?”

A half-hearted laugh echoed from my lips. “I don’t think we have time for the long list,” I joked, smiling a crooked sort of smile.

His lips curved into a gentle smile, and he closed his eyes for a moment. “We’ve got plenty of time, Blondie. Like, the rest of the night, really.”

I groaned under my breath. “But I’ll have to keep stopping when we get out of the car and move everything underground,” I complained.

“Nah,” Dean disagreed, shaking his head. “You can tell me right here.” He nodded toward the bed.

We could stay the night? My heart nearly skipped a bit, and I could feel my whole face rising. “Okay!” I chirped. “But I think if we’re going to stay here we could use our time a little more wisely than listing everything you’ve neglected to tell me. Our bed deserves a proper send-off.”

A wicked, mischievous grin crept onto his face. “That’s my girl,” he laughed before he took my face in his hands and kissed me again. “My thoughts exactly.” He proceeded to pull me down roughly against the mattress, climbing on top of me. I felt his weight press down against my body, and when we broke for air, I laughed.

“Wait,” I laughed. “Let’s set it on fire when we’re done.” Dean’s face lit up with excitement and inquiry. A smirk replaced his look of shock. “We’ll never come back, anyway.”

“And they’re going to tear this place to hell,” he added. Chuckling, he gave me a quick kiss on the lips. “I knew there was a reason I married you, Blondie.”

True to our word, just a few hours later, we put the animals in the car and torched the bed, watching as the flames engulfed every cotton fiber it could get it’s hands on. They crawled over the comforter, under the sheets, and took the mattress too. We left before it took the headboard, got in the car and left for West London, not caring for the state of Dean’s house any longer. After all, we had gotten all the things that mattered. Who cared if it burned?

We moved everything into the Hangar in the dead of night, or perhaps early morning, depending on what one thought of 3 AM, parking a few blocks away and lugging everything down the street and into the base. When everything was settled, we drove again, this time to the edge of the River Thames. We parked the car by the ledge, facing forward. It took nearly all my strength, but we managed to push the car forward, letting it tumble forward and take a headfirst dive into the river. Water rocketed around it as the vehicle crashed into the depths.

“You’re going to work tomorrow, aren’t you?” I asked as we stood on the edge, watching intently.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Can’t miss work.”

Of course. Why wouldn’t he put his own safety first? What a ridiculous notion. “Be careful, Muscles,” I murmured, looking to him pleadingly.

“‘Course, Blondie,” he assured me, reaching over and squeezing my hand. “Everything’ll be fine. Promise.”

As the car slowly sank and eventually disappeared underwater, I couldn’t help but think he was wrong this time. Dean wasn’t invincible, no matter what he said, but I took his word for it, and we headed back, anyway.