Chapter 37

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Y/N's POV

You ever go for a drive while it's raining outside...and you just stare out the window at all of the scenery flying past you, feeling like you're in some cliche music video or dramatic movie?

That's kind of how I felt right now. Only....I wished it was a movie. I'd give anything for all of this not to be real.

I prayed that any moment now, some director would yell 'cut', and this mentality I was locked in would cease to exist...and I'd go back to being a normal woman...go back to the real world, and leave this land of make-believe behind.

I prayed that the curtains would close, and I would step out of this Impala...and come to the realization that it was just a stage prop, and I was actually in some film studio somewhere...and Sam was somewhere on set waiting for me.

But no matter how hard I prayed and tried to manifest that scenario into reality...it was impossible.

Because I'm not the female lead in some horror film... I'm not in a Hollywood studio... none of this is fake...and Sam is hundreds of miles away from me now.

He didn't speak to me again after I'd admitted the truth about everything. Even when we loaded up the cars and went our separate ways...all he had to offer me was a small nod. No words...not a kiss...not a hug. He couldn't even make eye contact. The only thing that implied he doesn't absolutely hate my fucking guts...was the fact he instructed Dean to take care of me and keep me safe while we embark on the search for Death.

I can't say I blame him at all.

I feel like every move I make, every decision I come to, every little thing I do is wrong. I never meant to hurt him...ever. Fuck, I didn't even want to keep my bargains with Crowley a secret. I'd wanted to tell Sam and Dean everything...so, so badly. I wanted their guidance, their input...but I feared for Sam's life...I feared for my own life...I just thought it was the best move to make.

As for selling my soul, well...my back was against the wall. A choice had to be made in that room...our mission, and Bobby's safety depended on it. It's not even like I fucking asked for this, anyway. I walked in on Crowley about to claim Bobby's soul, and that is just something I couldn't allow. It seemed like the right thing to do...the noble thing to do...

...It's what Sam would have done.

Matter of fact, I spent a majority of the drive in silence, debating over everything Sam had done since he and I had reconnected. Honestly, I tried not to think too much about the things he'd done that hurt me, shattered me...but I decided to dwell on everything again...because then maybe I would somehow feel justified in my actions...maybe if I reminded myself of what he's done, the guilt would be just a little less crushing.

But it wasn't.

Because in the grand scheme of things...he and I are exactly the same. Everything he did... Ruby, the demon blood, the lies, the secrets...everything...he was just doing what he thought was the right move. And I cursed him for it. I let it break me...I ran away...I starved myself...I drank...I lost my grip on absolutely everything...and the whole time, he shouldered all of that blame. I didn't do much to remedy that.

He tried to save the world...and every time the world pushes back, every time he gets knocked flat on his ass, he stands right back up. He'd give everything...do anything...be anything. And I held it all over his head because of my petty feelings alone...I've been so selfish.

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