A week had passed since Christmas, and even though Sara had seemed to be doing a little better, she wasn't.
As her grief settled to steady waves, the nightmares became her new reality. When she did sleep, which wasn't often, she would wake screaming and would shake for hours after. Dean had taken to crawling into bed with her, hoping that his presence would help. It did sometimes, but Sara still seemed to be battling some serious demons.
She was sitting at her usual spot on the porch, knees to her chest as she watched her breath come out in clouds. It was probably just an hour or two before sunrise, and she had carefully peeled herself out of Dean's arms so he could get some good hours of sleep.
"Heya, Sar-bear."
Sara's head jerked toward the voice, eyes widening as she saw who it was.
"A-- Avery? I thought you were..."
The taller woman hummed, stuffing her hands in her pockets. "Dead? Mm, yes."
"So you're a ghost?"
"Not quite."
"A memory?"
"Closer."
"Am I dreaming?"
"Red hot. You're almost there."
"I'm hallucinating?"
"Someone get her a cash prize," Avery said cheekily, striding to stand in front of Sara. "You, honey bee, are cuckoo for cocoa puffs."
"What?"
"Well, it starts with the nightmares. You deprive yourself of sleep, good hearty food and... Kablam. Time for the bats to fly the belfry."
Sara's eyes widened. She pinched herself under her blanket, nails digging into the skin of her forearm and coming away wet with blood. She wiped it on her pant leg, looking around the yard as if Avery would be gone when she looked back.
"You're not dreamin' sweetheart."
"But-- But why... You?"
"Oh!" Avery chuckled, slapping her forehead with her hand as if she'd made a silly mistake. "Because it's your fault that I'm dead."
Sara's heart dropped, and she began to shake. "I-- I--"
"I, I," Avery mocked. "It's your fault I'm dead. It's your fault that your parents are dead. It's your fault that your precious little brother is dead."
"No, stop," Sara whimpered, pressing her hands over her ears and squeezing her eyes shut.
Avery flashed forward, yanking Sara's hands away from her ears. "And guess what? It's gonna be your fault when your friends die. Bobby..." Sara groaned, trying to pull herself out of Avery's painful grasp. "Sammy..." Sara saw a wicked smile on Avery's face. "Dean..."
Suddenly, the door opened behind Sara and the ironclad grip that Avery had on Sara's wrists vanished. She gripped the back of her head, shoving it between her knees as she began to cry. She heard Dean saying her name, trying to get her to look at him, but kept her eyes squeezed shut as her body shook violently. Dean sat next to her on the bench, wrapping his arm around her shaking shoulders and speaking soft, soothing words.
He was as afraid for her as ever. He knew that healing wasn't linear, but he was hopeful when he saw bits of the old Sara on Christmas. The past week had been rough on her, he knew she almost never slept and trying to make her eat was becoming more and more difficult.
Sara's body relaxed ever so slowly, but the shaking didn't seem to want to abate. She threw her legs over Dean's, stuffing her face into his shoulder and trying to calm herself down. It wasn't until the sun began to rise that Dean spoke.
"Was it a nightmare?"
She shook her head slightly, still coming to terms with what she had seen. What Avery had said.
"Are you okay?"
She paused, then shook her head again. Dean rubbed her shoulder, trying to figure out what he could possibly say.
"I-- I saw--"
"You saw?"
"I-- um," she hesitated, lip quivering. Nobody knew about the deal she had made with Avery all that time ago. She had sworn to take it to the grave, but now Avery was dead.
Dean looked down at her, noticing the conflicted expression on her face. "Sara, it's okay. You can tell me."
"...Avery. A demon."
"The one that...?"
"No, no. It was..." She couldn't find the right words to tell him. She was sure that he would stand and walk right away, never looking back.
"It's okay, Sara."
She shook her head, looking pleadingly into his eyes. "You'll hate me."
He was taken aback by that, his heart sinking. "No, Sara. I won't. I'm... I'm so sorry I gave you the impression that anything you told me would result in that."
Hot tears streamed down her face again, cutting streaks briefly in her numbed cheeks.
"I made a deal with her," she whispered. Dean's eyes widened, and he took a deep breath so that he wouldn't panic.
"What deal?"
"She was..." Sara took a deep breath, and it came out as shaky as ever. Dean watched her intently, hoping that she wasn't going to say what he thought she was. "I hunted her, back before you came to get me. Like... A year and a half before? It was soon after everything happened with Sam." She intertwined her fingers, looking away from Dean. "She was killing people in my town. We came to a sort of stalemate, since I could only send her back to hell and she couldn't kill me. So, she offered to stop killing people if I let her use my blood."
"Blood for what?"
"For this... I don't know. It was this goblet that I think she used to communicate with other demons."
Dean remembered back to Meg, how she slit people's throats and used the blood as well. He let out a breath he didn't know he was holding, but was still unsure if she had done what he was afraid of.
"Did you-- Did she-- Uh..." He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. "Was there a price?"
"No, Dean. I know what you're thinking and I didn't sell my soul."
"Oh, thank god."
"I just had to be at her beck and call." Sara put her hands through her blanket, showing Dean the deep scars that had completely healed over. "So she could use my blood. So she wouldn't kill anyone else."
Dean took her hands in his, studying the scars closely. "You think I would've hated you for this?"
"Making a deal with a demon?" She shrugged, earning a frown from Dean.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For everything. I made you a promise... And I broke it. Twice. I hurt you so many times, and I screwed up so many times. I just... I want you to know how sorry I am. I wanted to call you so many times when you were gone, but I didn't want to give you a reason to come back. I wanted you to live... At least somewhat normally. If I had known then what was going to happen I--"
"Can we not do that?" Sara murmured, eyes finding her hands again.
"What?"
"Play the 'what if' game. I just can't. What happened-- happened. There's no point in looking back because there's no way to change it."
Dean nodded, looking guilty.
"And by the way, I forgive you. No matter what you do, even if it ends up bad for me, I won't just stay gone. I'll respect your wishes, even if they hurt. But I forgive you. You need to forgive yourself."
She looked at him then, watching as his eyes traveled from her eyes, down to her lips. She almost told herself that it was wishful thinking, but allowed herself to do the same. Both were subconsciously leaning toward each other, ever so slowly. Just as they could feel each other's breath, Sara felt a pain in her temple.
She jerked forward, accidentally bumping foreheads with Dean.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Aah--" She pressed her hands to her forehead, the pain steadily growing worse and blurring her vision.
"Sara? What is it?"
"Ugh, my head, it's--" She groaned, squeezing her eyes shut. When she opened them again, she saw Avery standing in front of her, black eyes glinting and an evil smile on her face. Sara yelped, falling off the bench and groaning when her ribs cried out angrily. Dean looked behind him, kneeling next to Sara when he saw nothing there.
"Is she here? Do you see her?"
Sara didn't reply, covering her whole face with her hands now. Flashes of Joey's dead body ripped across her mind as Dean lifted her in his arms. He placed her on the bed, looking at her with worried eyes.
Just as soon as it came, the headache left. Sara slowly opened her eyes, bringing her hands down from her face. Dean was looking at her with fear in his eyes, but seemed to relax when she took her hands down.
"I'm okay... I'm okay."
"No, what the hell just happened?"
"I... I don't know. This really bad headache came out of nowhere and I saw Avery and..."
"Do you still see her?"
"No, no."
"Okay, good." Dean shifted his weight onto the bed, breathing out deeply. "We'll figure this out."
"Right," Sara muttered unsurely. The images she saw when the headache came were still fresh in her mind, making her sick to her stomach.