LILITH | DEAN WINCHESTER [ ✓ ]

39. fake smile

"No," Dean was about to retort, but Lilith hurried, "I know." She caught him off guard; Dean returned to look at the road, and his hands tightened the steering wheel with power. "I know what you have to do to get out of hell, I know about the torture of souls. I know everything, Dean."

The Impala parked on the side of the street, in a space that was free between some businesses. Dean's hair was still wet, and some drops ran down his forehead to burst at the tip of his pert nose. He ran his hands over his face and then decided to look at her, surely thinking about everything he hadn't wanted to say in the cemetery; he was a good boy, respectful and with enough affection not to ruin her afternoon. Why did his chest ache? Deep down in his mind, he had no doubt about the anger he would have when he returned; he had ruined his friendship with Sam the day he drank demon blood. Lilith was sure of that, only Mom forgave her completely and understood her.

"I don't want to talk about that, please," his emerald eyes filled with water. "You had no idea what you were asking, you shouldn't have asked me to do it. Never. What you did, you drank the blood of the demon that killed my family. It's wrong, Lilith, you shouldn't have done it. You were supposed to stay in college."

"Don't give me that crap, Dean, when you did the same thing. What was I supposed to do? Sit at home and wait for you to rescue my mom? Wait? Look for another plan? Wasn't that exactly what I told you when Sam died? I didn't understand you back then, I judged you and thought you were an idiot."

"I am an idiot," he interrupted hastily, "but you-" he pointed at her, and Lilith slapped his hand away from her face.

"No, I understand you. You were desperate, needy, you can't live without your brother, you live for him. There was no difference between your motives and mine, only your plan worked better: you're here alive, and you have your brother. Isn't that all you wanted?"

"You don't understand what I had to do, you don't understand," Dean tried to avoid the topic without admitting his sins aloud and only made himself more annoyed and angry, with hellfire consuming his soul.

"I told you I would understand and forgive you for whatever you had to do; I don't care, I just wanted you here," she exclaimed defeatedly. She threw the cigarette she had smoked out the window and slung her bag's straps over her shoulder. "Honestly, I thought you would understand me."

"It's not you who should care!" he shouted, hitting the steering wheel. "I care about what I did! It's about what I did because YOU asked me to. You came to me and told me Sam needed me, holy shit... Did you look in the mirror that day?! You didn't look good! For years, I wondered if it was you, if you had told me the truth. You scared me, Lilith. And I-" the words didn't come out; only a tear fell from his green eyes and disappeared quickly. "What do you know about angels?" he abruptly changed the subject.

"Why do you ask?"

"Because one pulled me out of the fire."

"What?!" her heart skipped a beat. "What the hell are you telling me? An angel saved you? An angel saved you?! How do you know? Did it tell you? Did you see an angel? What was it like?"

What she had just heard seemed worthy of a sitcom episode.

"I confronted him," he confessed. "Face to face, he says his name is Castiel, he's a bit perverted, quite voyeuristic."

"Was it an order to get you out?"

"Yes," Dean looked at her suspiciously. "Lilith... Bobby said you claim that an angel..."

"An angel killed her, Uriel," she said firmly, leaving a death sentence.

"And is that true?"

"Do you doubt it?" she shouted. "I saw it! I saw the flames! He was there with my mom under his feet! He killed her on orders!"