Silent Restraint

"So, Jimmy," Dex said. They were on their way to Northern California to follow a lead on the first place Sammy may have stopped.

"What?"

"Why Dean?" She'd been wanting to ask him for days, but she didn't want to deal with his bad attitude. Now that they were actually getting somewhere, he seemed a lot nicer, so she took her chance.

"What do you mean?"

"Why would you choose to be Dean Winchester?"

"Not really a choice, Honey."

"Humor me."

Dean shrugged. "Because of his... his dashing good looks and upbeat personality."

"No, really, I mean I know why I would choose Dean for LARPing, you know if I were a male LARPer and all."

"And why is that."

"Because he's pretty freaking fantastic. I mean, the books- they seem so flat and two dimensional, but Carver... Carver whoever, you know- the author- really goes into Sam and Dean, their personalities and such, you know what I mean? Dean is this... this... well, he's a hero. He saves lives just by pretty much existing, right? And he's so- like you see him weak, this sad blubbering mess, like when Sammy died, but you also see him at his high points. When him and Sam and Bobby sit around and drink liquor and are just... a family. Because that's all he really wants. All he needs, right? And that's why he does all the shit he does. Not for the recognition or the glory or the right to say I sold my soul for my baby brother. He does it for his family cause that's all he's got left in the world. But, like, no matter how bad it gets, the blood and shit and hell he gets dragged through just to survive. He always bounces back. Yea, maybe a bit more damaged and broken than before. But he won't give up. And it's really tragic and heartbreaking and beautiful and it makes me wish the he was real, because I feel like all he really needs is for someone to hug him and tell him it's gonna be okay. And that's why I'd choose Dean. If that makes any sense at all."

Dean cleared his throat. "Oh," he said after a moment.

She looked at him quickly. "Sorry, did I nerd out too hard? I get to babbling sometimes and I just can't stop- my high school English teacher made over-analyze lit-"

"No, no, that was really- uh- deep. I never thought about it like that."

She chuckled. "Well I can get deeper than that if you want."

"Go ahead," he pressed.

"Really?"

He shrugged. "Yea."

"It's truly horrible. And I was horrified that I'd even stumbled across this knowledge. You sure?"

"Yea. Do it."

"Okay. So the book after they get into the car crash. They have John, they have the Colt, and Dean's pretty much half-past dead." Dean nodded, only remembering what generally happened and still growing wary of where this was going. "Okay well prepare yourself. So Dean goes into a coma and is dying and then John sells his soul." Dean paled at the memory. "Yea?" He nodded again, white-knuckling the steering wheel. "Okay well here's where it gets just fucking heart-wrenching. Do you think that John would have done the same thing for Sam, knowing he might turn out to be a monster?"

Dean opened his mouth and his breath evacuated his lungs all at once. He almost pulled off the road, but managed to get a grip on himself. Meanwhile, his inner self was shaking it's head, answering her question repeatedly. No. John would not have sacrificed himself for Sammy. Not knowing what he knew. Honestly, Dean thought, not anyways. He probably would have justified leaving Sammy behind as 'his time to go'. The thought made Dean's gut twist and stomach heave and suddenly his mouth was dry and he couldn't think straight.

"Makes your brain hurt, doesn't it? Right in the Oedipus'ing soul, amirite? God, that hurts." She shook her head. "Anywho, let me know if you want me to go into the symbolism of the Impala sometime."

Dex didn't know if she was just feeling poetic after what she said, but something about that smile just made him... infinitely beautiful. She couldn't stop looking at him as it graced his features and her mood fell immediately when it faded after a second. She wanted to say something, anything, to make it come back, but she knew the moment was over and done with and she turned in her seat to watch the passing landscape.

<><><><><>

Dean was hanging up his phone when Dex stepped out of the bathroom. She grinned at him, wringing her hair in a towel.

"Who was that?" she asked.

"Friend of mine. Garth."

"Oh? And what did he want?"

"He's got a lead on Sam, but he wants me to take care of a case first."

"Like a monster case?" Her eyebrows raised and she sat on her bed, legs folded underneath her.

Dean smirked briefly. "Ready to become a believer?"

Dex grinned. "Fuck yea I am," she laughed. "When do we leave?"

<><><><><>

Dex sat across from Dean, staring at the hunch of his shoulders, wearing the nicest clothes she had been able to scrape together on short notice. He'd gotten them into the police station with his FBI badge, giving no explanation for the somewhat raggedy woman behind him, other than 'she's with me' in a commanding tone that made her toes curl and ovaries explode a little bit. But that seemed to suffice for the men in the station. He was given everything he needed and more, including a private office room to look at it all in.

"Eight missing people in the last couple weeks. All on separate hunting or fishing trips in the wilderness. Never returned home," he muttered, mostly to himself, flipping through an array of folders and wishing he had Sam here to interpret all of it for him.

"I'm casting my vote for crazy psycho in a cabin."

Dean ignored her and said, still to himself, "Garth thought it might be those vamps. New tactics on nabbing girls. Get 'em while they're vulnerable, secluded. But this doesn't feel like a vamp to me." For a moment, when he looked up at the person across from him, he could've sworn it was Sam.

"Then what, Jim?" Dex sat forward, her dark hair brushing down in front of her face.

Dean shrugged and said, "God please don't let it be a wendigo."

Her face lit up. "Oooh will you teach me how to use a blow torch?"

He looked at her like she was crazy. "Fuck no. You're staying in the hotel room. If it is a wendigo, I'm gonna torch the sonofabitch and then we're going North to find Sam. If it's vamps, I'm calling Garth to send in a team."

She clicked her tongue. "No fun."

"You can thank me when you aren't monster food."

"Whatever," she said, following him out the door.

<><><><><><>

Dex watched the sexy Impala pull out of the motel parking lot with a frown. So much for turning into a goddamn believer. For all she knew, he could just be ditching her to meet his boyfriend, this whole thing a sham. The worst part about that was that the hot guy she had now traveled cross-country with may actually be gay. She sat down with a huff on the bed, pouting.

A really long time later she decided she was bored out of her mind and went for a drink. A drink turned into five. Then six. Then seven, and finally she was wasted, being taken home by some guy. He started pouring shots in his little apartment and next thing she knew she woke up naked in between two other people, both men and equally naked. The most she could hope for as she snuck out of the apartment, was that she'd at least had a good time.

Dean was sitting at the table when she got back at a quarter-past-nine. She smiled at him.

"How'd it go?" she asked, dragging out the 'o'.

"Fine," he said, eyebrows furrowed. "Where were you?"

"Out. What time did you get back?"

"Around ten." Dex nodded slowly. She must have left right before he got back and she felt kind of bad.

"D'ja kill it?"

"Nope, but I know it's pretty much definitely not a wendigo."

"Oh." Dex turned around to get a change of clothes out of her bag. "Then what is it?"

"Hello, Dean." An awkward yet oddly confident man with black hair and a trench coat stood to the side of Dean. Dex looked behind her, eyes wide.

Dean turned to face him, standing up. "Son of a bitch, Cas. Fuck, I've been calling you for-"

"I know. I've been busy elsewhere. And I already know what you are going to ask. Wherever they are keeping him, it is hidden from my view. There are wards against angels keeping me from getting to him."

"Can you at least tell me where you think he is?"

"Somewhere in or around Lake Superior."

"Hey, thanks, Cas."

"Goodbye Dean." There was a rustle and the man was gone.

Dex choked on her tongue momentarily, and started coughing, tears springing to her eyes. Dean stared at her for a second, and then decided to help when her face turned a violent shade of crimson. He pounded a fist of her back and held her up so she wouldn't fall over.

"You good?" he asked, releasing her as her breathing returned to normal.

"Uhm, no," she snapped. "What the fuck just happened?"

"That was Cas."

"Hey fuck you I have ears. I know it was Cas. I mean what the fuck-- it was obviously like a play on lights or like mirrors or some shit-- I don't fucking know." She sat down.

"He's an angel-"

"No fuck you. Fuck you, okay?" She stood up, her emotions swinging so hard and so suddenly that it made her knees buckle momentarily and she had to sit and then stand again. "I was okay playing along with your fucking Dean Winchester and Sam and wendigo shit but fuck you this shit is going way too far. You better fucking tell me what the fuck is going on right now or I'm leaving your crazy ass and you can find your bullshit brother by yourself, motherfucker." Dean looked at her for a second and then chuckled. "Why the fuck are you fucking laughing you lying piece of shit?"

"Nothing-- I can explain everything."

"Better do it fucking fast cause I'm about done with your shit."

"The guy who wrote those books. He was a prophet. And he had these crazy ass visions-"

Now Dex was laughing. "Fuck it. I'm done, I'm done." She threw the clothes she was still holding in her bag and tossed it over her shoulder, without bothering to zip it up, and headed for the door.

The door slammed behind her.

<><>< 3 Days Later ><><>

The Impala rumbled down the highway and the driver let out a harsh bark of laughter as he saw the girl walking on the side of the road. Dex had her hair in a messy bun and her raggedy leather jacket draped over her bag. She looked a little worse for wear since he'd last seen her. He drove past her, enjoying her look of irritation as he passed, and then surprise when he pulled over a few yards up the road. She grudgingly approached and leaned in the window, her choppy bangs falling in her face.

"What do you want, Jimmy?"

Dean shook his head, trying not to laugh at the bitterness in her voice. She was like a rabid kitten, tiny and mean and somewhat intimidating. "Get in the car."

"Fuck you." She pulled away and started walking again, but Dean followed her slowly with the Impala.

"Dammit, Dex, get in the damn car. You're gonna get picked up by some psycho or somethin'."

"Been there, done that." She glanced pointedly at him.

"Dex, just hear me out."

"I don't want to hear your shenanigans, Jimmy."

"No shenanigans, I swear. Just get in the car. I'll tell you the truth, the whole truth, if you'll just listen. That's all I want."

She looked at him, then threw her bag into the back seat and got in.

"Fucking drive, you bastard."