Jack Kline's Sister

Chapter Thirty Four: Moriah, Part Three

"I don't feel anything," Jack said.

"After she said that, what did you do?" Castiel asked, seeming on edge as well.

"I just. . . I ran."

Castiel placed his hand on Jack's shoulder. They stopped and sat on a bench.

"Mary was a mistake," he started, looking down. "But ever since then, I've tried to do the right thing -- except for Dumah."

"She, um. . ." 

"She's a wicked bitch and she manipulated you," Monica finished. They both stared at her for a moment before Jack continued. 

"And then I tried on my own, but every time I try, it -- it never goes right. It never..."

Monica squeezed her brother's hand. Pangs of empathy squeezed around her like rope. 

"All I ever wanted was to be good," Jack said. "But now I'm just... empty. Even this -- I know you're here because you love me, and I want to love you back. It's just...I can't."

"You can't yet," Castiel said firmly. "We just need time to fix this. We need to go somewhere safe, somewhere where no one can find us."

Monica was about to chime in, force out some encouraging words, when she looked up. 

Dean held a gun. 

A gun aimed at Jack's head.

"Cass, Monica, step aside," he said. His eyebrows were furrowed the same way they always were, the way they were when he tried to detach from humanity and get the job done. 

"Dean," Castiel tried.

"Step aside!" Dean shouted. Monica could see it, no mind-reading necessary. He was really cutting off now. Shoving every bit of emotion aside. 

Monica turned to her brother. "Get out of here, go, now!" She pleaded. 

Jack stood up. "I can't."

"You have to," Castiel said, and Jack sent him flying with a move of his hand. He didn't touch Monica, though. He knew enough at this point to know she wouldn't move. She wouldn't fight him, or get in the way. 

She never got in the way. 

"I won't run anymore," Jack declared. He looked at Dean. "You're not gonna lock me up again, are you?"

"No." Dean's reply was cold as ice.

Monica watched Dean raise the gun, her brother exhale. 

Here she was again, watching the scenes unfold like someone behind the screen. Standing and breathing, and blinking, and letting it happen. 

She would never get in the way.

But as Dean's finger touched the trigger, that other side--the stupid, flighty, irresponsible, reckless side--took over. "No!" She screamed and lunged and Dean, tearing the gun away. 

"Monica," Jack said softly.

She turned and stared at him, fingers wrapped around the gun so tight you could see her bones. 

"It's okay." He forced a small, sad smile and kneeled in front of her. "This has--this has to happen. We both know it. There's no running anymore." He swallowed. "I'll be fine. You'll be fine. There is so much more for you to live for than me."

She nodded slightly, thinking of the last time he'd said that.

The last time he died.

"It's all going to be okay. All of you. You'll be okay. I know it."