Wrong Side of Heaven
This world is gonna burn, burn burn burn
“Thank you for seeing me again.” Sam says as I walk up to him after class the next day.
“I went home last night and looked through my books, rereading Genesis and a few of my father’s notes,” I tell him as we walk towards my office, “and nothing makes sense.”
“You know this world better than most,” Sam begins, “half the time it doesn’t make sense.”
“I spent the last 12 years working along parapsychologist and working on various theories and theses for anomalistic psychology,” I begin, “I spent a good part of the last decade trying to debunk paranormal activity, Sam, and it always baffles me.”
“You can’t debunk something you know is real.” Sam states, matter of fact.
“Debunking is sometimes easier to do than admitting that there are things that go bump in the night,” I sigh. “And you’re asking me to jump back into this world of angels and demons like it’s nothing. Like the last 12 years of living a normal life meant nothing.”
“Dean would have done it for you,” Sam states, causing a humorless chuckle to escape my lips.
“Dean wouldn’t have walked away without a fight,” I tell Sam, “he wouldn’t have taken our break up sitting down. He would have fought for me, but he didn’t. He walked out and never came back. So I doubt Dean would have done this for me.” Sam’s quiet, not knowing what to say,
“Sammy, I still have no idea why you would come to me,” I tell him, “you were always Dean’s weakness.”
“He doesn’t want to be fixed,” he says, “he doesn’t want my help.”
“And what makes you think he’ll want mine?” I question him, “we haven’t spoken in years.”
“I’ve been tracking his whereabouts and activity,” Sam explains, “he was coming straight this way. He arrived in town the day before I did.”
“And you still think he’s here for me?” I ask, eyebrow raised. “Dean would have made his presence known if he was here for me.”
“He also knows you know how he rolls,” Sam counters, “he’s waiting. Plus it wouldn’t be just him. He’s with Crowley.”
“Why would the King of Hell hang out with a Winchester?”
“Demons are scared of Dean, now more than ever,” Sam sighs, “he’s got the first blade and is practically a Knight of Hell; Dean is Crowley’s key to creating the perfect hell.”
“And how do I fit into all of this?”
“Crowley is going to give Dean whatever he wants to keep Dean by his side,” Sam explains, “and the one thing Dean wants more than anything is you.”
A laugh escapes my lips, “you’re joking right?”
“Dean loves you Dahlia, is it that hard to believe?”
“Yes. Yes it is.” I state. “Anyway, I looked into this whole Dean is a demon thing and I’m sorry but I can’t help you. My schedule is booked. I’ve got lectures, trips and tests to give; I can’t just drop everything like I used to. Sorry, Sam. But thank you for the heads up, I’ll be on the look out for Dean.”
“Want me to stick around?” He offers, earning a smile to appear on my lips,
“Sammy, I can take handle your brother,” I reply, “demon or not…”
**
After work, and a couple drinks with coworkers, I find myself curled up on my couch a book in hand and a throw blanket covering my legs. A rerun of Doctor Who is playing lowly in the background as I focus on the words of The Raven.
Just as I finish it, there is a noise at the back of my house; as if someone is trying to break in. Quietly, I place my book down and head towards the kitchen; only after I make a stop to grab my softball bat out of the closet. I get to the door and swing it open, holding up my bat just in case. A sigh of relief escapes my lips when I see that no one is there. I chuckle a bit at my paranoia as I close the door. Tossing my bat back in the closet, I head back into the living room only to be stopped in my tracks at who is standing in the middle of the room,
“Dean,” it was above a whisper.
“Hey Lia,” he smirks, “long time no see.”
“What are you doing here?” I question, “how did you even find me? It’s been twelve years.”
“Don’t act like Sammy didn’t come to warn you,” he chuckles as he starts towards me, only to be stopped by an invisible force. He looks down at the throw rug before kicking it away, revealing a Devil’s Trap.
“You’re right, Sam did come to warn me,” I tell him, “doesn’t mean I know why you would come to see me after all these years. Surely there were other girls that struck Dean Winchester’s fancy over the years.”
“You kicked me out of your life, not the other way around.” Dean all but growls at me.
“I want you to leave, Dean,” I tell him.
“Can’t,” he smirks as he points to the red lines of the Devil’s Trap.
“After I set you free, leave.” I say. “I don’t want anything to do with demons and you trying to create the perfect hell. You may not want to be fixed but I’m certainly not going to be apart of your fall from grace.”
“Stop acting like you didn’t miss me,” he laughs, “you miss me and you miss the lifestyle.”
“I spent the last decade trying to prove to myself that angels and demons and paranormal bullshit didn’t exist,” I tell him, “I wrote thesis after thesis on the subject because it was better to act like it didn’t exist. Dean, I was tired of waking up in seedy motels and wondering if my boyfriend was ever going to come back. So no, I don’t miss the lifestyle. I’m never going to miss it enough for me to run off with you now.”
“But you didn’t say you didn’t miss me,” he points out, smirking. I shake my head before turning around and heading to the kitchen to grab a knife. Heading over to Dean, I bend down and scrap some of the red paint off the floor; breaking the Devil’s Trap.
“Leave,” I tell him, “because I’ll be a cold day in hell before I come running back to you. Even if you weren’t the very thing I was brought up to hate…”
“You know I’m not going to give up that easily?” He questions.
“You gave me up easily before, Dean, I’m sure you can do it again…” I push him out of my house, slamming the door behind him; locking it. I lean up against the door, letting out a sigh. I never thought in a million years I’d see him again and I never thought our reunion would be like this...
“I went home last night and looked through my books, rereading Genesis and a few of my father’s notes,” I tell him as we walk towards my office, “and nothing makes sense.”
“You know this world better than most,” Sam begins, “half the time it doesn’t make sense.”
“I spent the last 12 years working along parapsychologist and working on various theories and theses for anomalistic psychology,” I begin, “I spent a good part of the last decade trying to debunk paranormal activity, Sam, and it always baffles me.”
“You can’t debunk something you know is real.” Sam states, matter of fact.
“Debunking is sometimes easier to do than admitting that there are things that go bump in the night,” I sigh. “And you’re asking me to jump back into this world of angels and demons like it’s nothing. Like the last 12 years of living a normal life meant nothing.”
“Dean would have done it for you,” Sam states, causing a humorless chuckle to escape my lips.
“Dean wouldn’t have walked away without a fight,” I tell Sam, “he wouldn’t have taken our break up sitting down. He would have fought for me, but he didn’t. He walked out and never came back. So I doubt Dean would have done this for me.” Sam’s quiet, not knowing what to say,
“Sammy, I still have no idea why you would come to me,” I tell him, “you were always Dean’s weakness.”
“He doesn’t want to be fixed,” he says, “he doesn’t want my help.”
“And what makes you think he’ll want mine?” I question him, “we haven’t spoken in years.”
“I’ve been tracking his whereabouts and activity,” Sam explains, “he was coming straight this way. He arrived in town the day before I did.”
“And you still think he’s here for me?” I ask, eyebrow raised. “Dean would have made his presence known if he was here for me.”
“He also knows you know how he rolls,” Sam counters, “he’s waiting. Plus it wouldn’t be just him. He’s with Crowley.”
“Why would the King of Hell hang out with a Winchester?”
“Demons are scared of Dean, now more than ever,” Sam sighs, “he’s got the first blade and is practically a Knight of Hell; Dean is Crowley’s key to creating the perfect hell.”
“And how do I fit into all of this?”
“Crowley is going to give Dean whatever he wants to keep Dean by his side,” Sam explains, “and the one thing Dean wants more than anything is you.”
A laugh escapes my lips, “you’re joking right?”
“Dean loves you Dahlia, is it that hard to believe?”
“Yes. Yes it is.” I state. “Anyway, I looked into this whole Dean is a demon thing and I’m sorry but I can’t help you. My schedule is booked. I’ve got lectures, trips and tests to give; I can’t just drop everything like I used to. Sorry, Sam. But thank you for the heads up, I’ll be on the look out for Dean.”
“Want me to stick around?” He offers, earning a smile to appear on my lips,
“Sammy, I can take handle your brother,” I reply, “demon or not…”
**
After work, and a couple drinks with coworkers, I find myself curled up on my couch a book in hand and a throw blanket covering my legs. A rerun of Doctor Who is playing lowly in the background as I focus on the words of The Raven.
Just as I finish it, there is a noise at the back of my house; as if someone is trying to break in. Quietly, I place my book down and head towards the kitchen; only after I make a stop to grab my softball bat out of the closet. I get to the door and swing it open, holding up my bat just in case. A sigh of relief escapes my lips when I see that no one is there. I chuckle a bit at my paranoia as I close the door. Tossing my bat back in the closet, I head back into the living room only to be stopped in my tracks at who is standing in the middle of the room,
“Dean,” it was above a whisper.
“Hey Lia,” he smirks, “long time no see.”
“What are you doing here?” I question, “how did you even find me? It’s been twelve years.”
“Don’t act like Sammy didn’t come to warn you,” he chuckles as he starts towards me, only to be stopped by an invisible force. He looks down at the throw rug before kicking it away, revealing a Devil’s Trap.
“You’re right, Sam did come to warn me,” I tell him, “doesn’t mean I know why you would come to see me after all these years. Surely there were other girls that struck Dean Winchester’s fancy over the years.”
“You kicked me out of your life, not the other way around.” Dean all but growls at me.
“I want you to leave, Dean,” I tell him.
“Can’t,” he smirks as he points to the red lines of the Devil’s Trap.
“After I set you free, leave.” I say. “I don’t want anything to do with demons and you trying to create the perfect hell. You may not want to be fixed but I’m certainly not going to be apart of your fall from grace.”
“Stop acting like you didn’t miss me,” he laughs, “you miss me and you miss the lifestyle.”
“I spent the last decade trying to prove to myself that angels and demons and paranormal bullshit didn’t exist,” I tell him, “I wrote thesis after thesis on the subject because it was better to act like it didn’t exist. Dean, I was tired of waking up in seedy motels and wondering if my boyfriend was ever going to come back. So no, I don’t miss the lifestyle. I’m never going to miss it enough for me to run off with you now.”
“But you didn’t say you didn’t miss me,” he points out, smirking. I shake my head before turning around and heading to the kitchen to grab a knife. Heading over to Dean, I bend down and scrap some of the red paint off the floor; breaking the Devil’s Trap.
“Leave,” I tell him, “because I’ll be a cold day in hell before I come running back to you. Even if you weren’t the very thing I was brought up to hate…”
“You know I’m not going to give up that easily?” He questions.
“You gave me up easily before, Dean, I’m sure you can do it again…” I push him out of my house, slamming the door behind him; locking it. I lean up against the door, letting out a sigh. I never thought in a million years I’d see him again and I never thought our reunion would be like this...