Not Just the Family Business

Journey to the Center of a Mind

A few minutes into our drive, I crashed. Sam didn't let me sleep for long though, thanks to the concussion. He woke me up after about an hour and a half. 

"I'm sorry. I tried to let you sleep for as long as I could," Sam said.

"It's okay. I probably shouldn't sleep the day away, huh?" I smiled.

Sam smiled back. "How ya feeling?"

"A lot better, honestly." I turned and looked at Bee and Dean in the back. 

Dean sat behind me with his arm on the door-side armrest. His head rested gently against the headrest. His eyes were closed, and he looked very peaceful. Bee had also fallen asleep. I noticed her flask poking out of the front pocket of her jeans. Because of the movement of the car, she had slumped over and laid with her head on Dean's shoulder. It looked like they were accidentally holding hands, too.

I turned back to Sam. "Glad they're getting along so well."

"Yeah, they've been out for a while." Sam shrugged. "I can't blame them. I think they were both awake the whole way back to Harvelle's."

"Bee sleeps a lot these days, too. I think the 'night-night juice' helps." I slumped down in my seat a little.

Sam shifted awkwardly. "Is she..." he fumbled around for the right word. "...well enough to be carrying a gun?"

"I would trust her with my life when we're on a hunt," I said. "She does a good job of drinking off-duty. I can't give her too much grief for it. We all cope in our unique self-destructive ways."

Sam looked at Dean in the rearview.

"It's not my place, but you two should stop keeping secrets from each other. It never goes well." I looked at Dean. "Also, he's out cold."

"What I was going to say isn't necessarily a secret on my part. It was more for your comfort." Sam shifted again and stopped himself from looking in the rearview mirror. "You've felt those weird feelings every time we touch. Forgive me if this is too forward, but did your mom die when you were a baby?"

I drew in a deep breath as anxiety built up in my chest. "No, she didn't." I furrowed my brows. "Why do you ask?"

"It's just a theory I had." Sam shook his head. "It doesn't apply."

My heart hammered in my chest and my hands grew sweaty. Talking about the demon always did that. I swallowed hard to push the bile down in my throat. "This demon you're fighting is the one with yellow eyes, right?" I asked, knowing it was true from hearing it in their mind.

"How do you know that?" Sam asked.

I fought back tears and tried to lower my heart rate. After a glance at Bee—who was still slumbering—I stared down at my hands. "My mom didn't die when I was young. My family died a year ago." One tear slipped over my lid. "The yellow-eyed demon came back for some reason. We had just cleared out a den of vampires near Spokane and my parents asked Bee and me to go get some food. As soon as we got back, we knew something was off." My lip quivered. "He slaughtered everyone. Bee and I walked into a blood-stained room and our parents' dead bodies." I choked back a sob. "And it's all my fault."

Sam reached over, grabbed my hand, and squeezed. "It's not your fault."

I slipped my hand out of his as I tipped over the edge. Tears flowed freely down my cheeks. I tried so hard not to blink because every time I closed my eyes I saw the blood and my mom's dead eyes. My breath came out in shuddering sobs. My lips started to tingle as the anxiety built. Hands rubbed both my shoulders as I woke up the two people behind me.