Fear Itself

When I woke from my nightmare, it was early, and it was cold. It was always early, always cold. I felt sweat on my skin. My chest shook with every breath as I calmed myself down. I was getting better at this. Granted, the dreams were usually better when I woke up on my own. It was the ones that Dean had to wake me up from that left me shivering and sobbing for hours. Dean was sound asleep beside me, so it must have been an alright dream. I barely even remembered it, just a few brief flashes. Gunshots, blood, bodies. I closed my eyes, suddenly feeling nauseas until I felt dull claws softly scraping over the sheet I had wrapped myself up in.

I blinked my eyes open to see Winston laying beside me, one of his front legs draped across me. He whimpered softly at me, leaning forward and lowering his head to rest on my chest, looking up at me with sad eyes. I forced a soft smile, if only to calm the dog. I lifted a hand and stroked him gently along his spine until he relaxed a little. “What a good boy,” I whispered. “Keeping me safe.” Winston craned his neck to lick my forearm and readjusted, laying more comfortably against me.

With one hand rubbing Winston’s belly, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, trying to go to sleep again. I needed to sleep, needed to forget. I just wanted to wake up tomorrow and forget that I had seen Dean go stark-raving mad, forget that I had seen Avery numb enough to sit while he was shoved… forget that I had watched my friends shot dead in the middle of West London, and I had stand by, utterly helpless, unable to save them.

My hand began to tremble, and I swallowed back the lump in my throat. Breathing was difficult, my stomach was rolling, and suddenly, I wanted nothing more than for time to speed up, for it to be daylight again. I couldn’t bear to think that my friends had died, and I had watched. I tried to tell myself that there wasn’t anything I could have done. I tried desperately to absolve myself of blame, but the weight on my chest told me otherwise. The ache in the back of my throat punished my excuses. Winston perked up again when my limbs began to shake, and I whimpered, unable to keep it in any longer.

I let them die. I watched as my friends died. What was worse was that I went right back to work and swept it under the rug as though it had never happened. Would someone do the same if I died? I pushed myself to sit up, but dizziness took my vision and blurred it. I thought about Dean. I thought about how he’d yelled and carried on, how I’d seen a thirst for blood in his eyes that day. He wasn’t himself. I didn’t even feel myself anymore.

We weren’t safe here. Nobody was. All I wanted to do was burrow under the blankets and make all this go away, but it wasn’t going to go away. Danger was ever-present here. I couldn’t escape it, and the longer I fought, the more people died. Why did they die? How many more people had to die before this ended?

The soreness in my throat became pain, and I found that it hurt to swallow. In a frenzy, I scrambled a little, squirming away from Winston and stumbling out of bed. I grabbed my backpack from the floor and rushed over to the dresser with heavy steps. Quiet wasn’t a concern. I knew that the only solution was to get out. If Dean and I left London, left the Brotherhood, then everything would be okay again. If we could get away from all of this we could go right back to normal and be happy like we were before.

Dean stirred and shifted. The sheets rustled around him. I tore open the bottom the door, hands shaking as I stuffed any clothes I had left here into the bag. I needed enough to travel, maybe a last a few days. Wherever we went, I could always just steal more. That wasn’t a problem. Nothing was a problem as long as we were together and safe.

“Blondie.” Dean’s voice was groggy and quiet. I glanced over my shoulder to see him sit up, propped on his elbow. His other hand rubbed at his eyes. “What are you doing?”

My eyes gazed at him in a pained stare for just a moment. I dropped the back and hurried to the side of the bed, kneeling before him. “Get your things,” I told him. “We have to get out of here, Muscles. We’re leaving.” I turned again, starting to stuff the bag.

“What?” he asked in disbelief. His voice was still sleepy; he was confused. I understood. No matter, I could just explain it again.

“We’re leaving,” I repeated. My jaw clenched as I continued packing my clothes. “Doesn’t matter where. We can figure it out later. We just have to go.”

He heaved a sigh. “You know we can’t do that, Blondie,” he murmured.

“Why not?” I asked, snapping my head to face him. My eyes watered at the thought that he didn’t want to come with me. I was doing this for us, to save us, and he was telling me no. “Muscles, come on,” I pleaded, looking up at him. “We can go, we can be safe. We can leave and nobody will ever have to know, and then, everything will be okay again.”

Dean gave a heavy sigh and scrubbed a hand over his face. “That isn’t going to work,” he reasoned, shaking his head softly. “You know that as well as I do.”

“No!” I protested through a tearful voice. “No, it… it will work.” My heart raced, and my chest felt tight again. I closed my eyes and tried to relax, but it didn’t work. My eyes burned with welling tears. “We just have to go really far away, away from all of this, away from the League and—“

“Blondie,” Dean interjected gently, reaching out and touching my shoulder. “The League is everywhere.”

“Please,” I pleaded, voice raspy, tears spilling over my eyelids. “Muscles, please. Come on,” I continued, looking up at him. “Avery doesn’t even have to come with us, I swear. Please, it’ll just be us,” I bargained through my tears. Dean sat up all the way. His feet sank into the carpet, and he looked down at me, back bent.

“Come on, babe,” he murmured, voice void of any power or confidence. “We can’t.” He tried to smile, but it wavered and faltered until it broke. “I’m sorry,” he apologized quietly. “We just can’t.”

Tears fell uncontrollably now, and sobs rattled my bones. “Muscles,” I cried, dropping my head a little. “Please,” I sputtered, but I couldn’t look up at him. My throat was sore and raw, but I kept crying anyway. Dean’s arms wrapped around me and tugged me back onto the mattress. He sat me down beside him before wrapping me up in a tight embrace. One hand stroked my cheek, cradling my head close to his chest where I could hear his heartbeat. “Muscles, what are we supposed to do?” I sobbed.

“We keep fighting,” he told me, running his hand over my head to quiet me. My heart ceased it’s incessant pounding, but my entire body felt so heavy that I could do nothing but sink against him.

“And what if that doesn’t work?” I murmured.

“Then, we die.”

While the options left me weeping quietly below him, I knew he was right. I nodded against his chest and closed my eyes. He just squeezed me a little.

“You alright?” His voice was soft, smooth, soothing. I nodded again.

“Yeah,” I sniffled. “I just..” I paused and swallowed. “Can we lay down?”

He nodded and laid me back down; he curled up with me and held me, still kept me close and snug against him. The tip of his nose brushed over my forehead. The feeling of his breath on my skin calmed my nerves, and I felt relief wash over every inch of me.

“What do you think the chances are?” I asked. “That we’ll die, I mean.”

Dean smiled a little and kissed my forehead. “Don’t worry about that,” he assured me. “You aren’t going to die. I won’t let that happen.” I smiled a little as he propped himself up on his elbow. His thumb moved to wipe the tears away from my cheeks. A small, peaceful grin grew on his face just before he leaned over to kiss me. “Love you, Blondie,” he murmured contently hovering over me.

Suddenly, it didn’t matter that he had made a scene in my room the other day. It didn’t matter that he didn’t want to run away, didn’t matter that the outside world was fraught with danger and full of people who pay to have my head on a platter. When I looked at him, saw him smile, saw the gleam he got in his eyes when he looked at me, I felt whole. I could stay there and watch him forever. I could do nothing else and be happy. “I love you too.” His grin widened, crinkling his eyes into a squint before he kissed me again, deeper this time.

“Marry me,” he blurted out, face close to mine.

My smile widened for just a moment before my mouth fell open all together. “Pardon?” I stammered, eyes bulging.

“I didn’t stutter,” he chuckled softly. “Let’s get married.”

My eyes darted around, and I blinked some more, trying to get my head on straight, but it wasn’t working out for me. “Who?” I stuttered, and Dean snorted.

“Us,” he told me and kissed my cheek. “You’re adorable,” he laughed with a giddy sort of grin on his face.

“When?” I asked, voice shrill and squeaky. I couldn’t help it.

“Tomorrow,” he replied.

“Tomorrow?” I choked. My eyes widened so much that I thought my eyeballs might just roll out.

“Tomorrow.” He gave me a rather succinct nod.

I felt my stomach fluttering. I couldn’t believe that this was happening. Surely, he must have been joking, I thought, but his face was serious and so decided that there was no way this was all in jest. “Are you sure?” I blinked, and he simply nodded. “You’ll be stuck with me forever, you know.”

“I know,” he laughed under his breath. “I couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier.”

I couldn’t believe it. Somebody wanted me. Somebody actually wanted me. A wide smile spread across my face, and I could feel my eyes squinting so hard that they actually shut for a moment. A spontaneous giggle erupted from my throat, and my skin was tingling. I didn’t have any words, couldn’t find them even if I wanted to, so I leapt up and hugged him tight instead. A giddy squeal escaped my lips as I buried my face against his shoulder. He hugged me laughing. “Is that a yes?” he asked with a grin.

“Yes!” I chirped, jerking back to cup his face and kiss him. “Yes, yes, of course, babe.” He grinned at me. His smile was so contagious that I grinned right back, at least until I kissed him again.

The bliss never quite settled, even when our giggles subsided, and we lulled back into peaceful sleep. It still swelled in my stomach and pumped through my veins. Nothing felt better than knowing I was wanted, especially by the very person I wanted. I was so ecstatic that I found it hard to fall asleep. Dean didn’t seem to have this issue, as he dozed off with a lazy, content smile on his face. Eventually, I joined him, but it was hard to move past the fact that I was getting married. I never thought I was going to get married.

Marriage was one of those things I thought I would miss out on. It was one of those things I did in my dreams because I never thought I would get to experience it in reality. After all, I couldn’t meet the perfect man in my bedroom, certainly couldn’t marry him either… but here I was, laying with a man I loved, a man who loved me back… a man who wanted to stay with me for the rest of his life.

If I never slept a wink ever again, I wouldn’t have minded. I was so happy with Dean that dreams had nothing left to offer me.