Croatoan
"This is my vision, Dean." Sam says as the older Winchester turned to face us. "It's happening."
"You know, maybe you two should listen to me more often." I laughed nervously, wrapping my arms around myself.
"Yeah, I figured." Dean replied.
"You can't kill him. Not yet. We don't know if he's infected or not." Sam says.
"Oh, I think we're pretty damn sure." Dean argued. "Guy shows up out of nowhere. Got a cut, his whole family's infected."
"How did he even know to come here?" I asked. "We had the front lights off. I mean, from the outside it seems like nobody's in here."
"Saige." Sam says.
"I didn't say kill him, I'm just saying it's weird."
"We should keep him tied up and wait and see." Sam stated.
"For what? For him to hulk out? Infect somebody else?" Dean asked. "No thanks, can't take that chance." Before he could walk away, Sam grabbed his arm. "Hey, man, I'm not happy about this. It's a tough job. You know that."
"It's supposed to be tough." Sam stated. "We're supposed to struggle with this. That's the whole point."
"What does it buy us?" Dean asked.
"A clear conscience, for one."
"Well, it's too late for that." Dean went to walk away again, but this time I caught his arm.
"Dean, what is wrong with you?" I asked.
"What?" He asked.
"I love you, you know that, but something is not right here."
"You might kill an innocent man and you don't even care." Sam added. "You don't act like yourself anymore. Hell, you know what? You're acting like one of those thing out there."
"Okay, that's a little far, Sam." I began.
Dean walked by Sam.
When he tried to grab Dean's arm, he was shoved across the room.
"Dean, come on, let's not--" I latched onto his wrist.
"Saige, let me go." Dean says.
"Just listen to me for a minute, Dean. You're scaring me. This isn't you." I thought maybe if I told him how I've been feeling since...Well, since his dad died, maybe he'd listen. I tried to keep things light and happy, but he was scaring me. Something was wrong.
"Yeah, well, maybe it is." Dean pulled his hand from me, stepping into the hall and slamming the door shut. He locked it behind him, keeping me and Sam in the waiting room.
"Open the damn door. Dean." Sam says.
"Dean Winchester, get back here." I slam my fist into the door.
"Don't do it, Dean!" Sam yelled.
Dean pulled out his gun, stopping at the door where everyone else was.
I waited, leaning against the door, for the gunshot. But nothing ever came.
___
I sat at the table with Sam and Dean as we made some bombs out of the medical supplies. None of us had spoken since earlier. We hardly looked at one another.
"It's been over four hours." Dr. Lee stopped in the doorway. "Duane's blood is still clean. I don't think he's infected. I'd like to untie him, if that's alright."
Sam and Dean shared a look for a moment.
"Sure, yeah." Sam nodded his head. Dr. Lee walked out then. "You know I'm gonna asked you why."
"Yeah, I know." Dean spoke up. He didn't sound angry or erratic. Not like he had earlier.
"So, why? Why didn't you do it?"
Dean cleared his throat. "We need more alcohol." He nodded to the bottle of rubbing alcohol beside him.
Sam stood, walking into the closet behind him were Pam was.
"I need some air." I mumbled, standing and heading toward the door.
"You can't go outside." Dean muttered back.
"I know." I replied, walking out of the room.
I wandered the halls until I found the backdoor. I know it's probably a bad idea, but there's no way there are people at the back of the building...Right?
I quietly unlock the door and pull it open just a smidge. I glance out. Nothing. No one.
I stepped outside into the cold night air. I pulled in a deep breath, letting the cool air calm me. I'm only going to stay out here for a few seconds. I can't risk anything more.
I shut my eyes, leaning against the side of the building.
Suddenly, I was falling. My back hit the pavement, air being forced from my lungs. I peel open my eyes as a weight kept me on the ground. I gasped for air, staring wide-eyed at the man who had tackled me.
I'm all on board for the occasional manhandling but this is just too far.
I struggled against his hold, feeling my hands prickle like there were thousands of tiny needles.
"Let me in...I will help you...." The shadow lady appeared at my side, standing over me.
A blade pierced the skin of my stomach. I yelled out in pain.
The man holding me down, sliced open his palm them, smearing his bleeding hand over the wound on my stomach.
No, no, no.
"Here..." The woman whispered.
I watched as shadows pooled on the ground beside me, shrinking and forming into a black dagger. The blade and hilt were both a dark black. On the handle were carvings of roses.
I reached out, stretching as far as I could to grab it. Once it was in my hand, I raised it up then plunged it into the mans chest. I pushed his limp body off of me then scurried to my feet.
The shadow lady was gone now, but the knife remained in my hand. I held my shirt up to keep from getting blood on it.
Now I have to hide the fact I'm infected with this dumb demon flu.
I slip back inside the building, hands shaking uncontrollably.
Okay, okay, okay. It's fine. I'll be fine. It's okay.
I patch up the wound on my stomach, then wash my hands, I tuck the weirdo shadow knife in my jeans, then I made my way back to everyone else. I put on a calm, nothing's wrong face.
Because it was fine.
"Doctor, check his wound again, would you?" Dean says, pacing the room.
Sam sat on the table, staring blankly ahead. Duane and the Sarge stood by the door. Pam was gone.
"What did I miss?" I asked, smiling as I crossed the room.
"Where have you been?" Sarge asked.
"Well, I went to the bathroom if you must know." I say.
"Doctor." Dean snapped.
I looked over at Sam who was holding an ice-pack to his chest. He must've gotten infected too.
Oh, well, this is horrible.
"What does she need to examine him for? You saw what happened." Sarge says. His eyes turned back to me. "What's on your shirt?"
"What?" I asked, looking down. Oh, crap.
There was a small spot of blood on the center of my shirt.
"Saige, what the hell happened?" Dean was in front of me in a instant. He lifted my shirt up just enough to reveal the bandages on my stomach.
I pulled back. "It's nothing. I'm fine."
"She's infected too."
"Saige, what the hell happened?" Dean repeated, but it was anything but a question.
"Uh, there's details I'd rather not tell anyone but you." I whispered. "But long story short I was attacked."
"Did her blood actually enter your wound?" Dr. Lee asked, looking between Sam and me.
"Come on, of course it did!" Sarge yells.
"We don't know for sure." Dean argued.
"Can't take a chance." Duane fought back.
"You know what to do." Sarge added.
"Nobody shoots my brother or girlfriend." Dean stated.
"They won't be those things much longer. You said it yourself." Duane says.
"Nobody's shooting anyone!" Dean insisted.
"You were gonna shoot me!"
"But he didn't." I spoke up. "I think that's what counts."
"Oh, sure it is, sweetheart." He yelled at me, making me flinch.
"You don't shut your pie-hole, I still might." Dean snapped, pointing at Duane.
"Dean, they're right." Sam spoke up. "I'm infected. Give me the gun and I'll do it myself."
"He has a point, Dean." I whispered, moving to Sam's side.
"Forget it. Both of you." Dean says.
"I won't become one of those things." Sam tells him.
"I don't wanna hurt anybody." I say.
"We still got some time--"
"For what?" Sarge asked. "Look, I understand it's your brother and girlfriend, I'm sorry. I am. But I gotta take care of this." He pulled out his gun.
"I'm only going to say this one time. You make a move on either of them, you'll be dead before you hit the ground. You understand me? I mean, do I make myself clear?!"
"Dean." Sam says.
"Then what are we supposed to do?" Sarge yelled.
"Stop it!" I yelled. "Stop it."
Dean looked at me for a moment before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the keys to the Impala. He tossed them to the sarge. "Get the hell out of here, that's what. Take my car. You got the explosives. There's an arsenal in there. You two go with him. You got enough firepower to handle anything now."
"What about you?" Sarge asked.
Dean just looked at me.
He planned on staying here with Sam and me.
"No." I say. "Hell no."
"Dean, no. No. Go with them. This is your only chance." Sam added.
"Not gonna get rid of me that easy." Dean shook his head.
"No, he's right, man. Come with us." Sarge says.
Dean looked at him. He wouldn't leave.
"No, you drag his ass out of here. Please." I stepped toward the sarge. "I'm begging you, please. Take him with you."
"It's his funeral." With that Sarge, Duane and Dr. Lee turned and walked out of the room.
"I'm sorry. Thanks for everything, marshals." Dr. Lee told us.
"Oh, actually, we're not really marshals." Dean tells her.
"Um...oh."
Dean offered a sarcastic smiled before shutting the door and locking it. He turned back to me and Sam. "Wish we had a deck of cards or a foosball table or something."
"You are an idiot." I shoved my hands into his chest, but he didn't move, didn't budge.
"Dean, don't do this." Sam says. "Just get the hell out of here."
"No way." Dean says, catching my wrists in his hands gently.
"Let go of me." I ripped my hands from his grip, tears falling down my face.
"Give me my gun and leave." Sam held out his hand, tears in his eyes.
"For the last time, Sam, no." Dean says.
Sam slammed his hand into the metal table. "This is the dumbest thing you've ever done."
"I don't know about that." Dean argued. "Remember that waitress in Tampa?" He shudders.
"You are such an idiot." I shove his chest again, but still he didn't move.
"Dean, we're sick." Sam says. "It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you."
"No."
"No? You can keep going."
"Who says I want to?"
My heart cracked then. "Dean?"
He moved to sit on the desk. "I'm tried." Dean says. "I'm tired of this job. This life. This weight on my shoulders. Man, I'm tired of it."
"So, what? So you're just gonna give up?" Sam asked. "I mean, you're just gonna lay down and die? Dean, I know the stuff with dad had--"
"You're wrong." Dean cut him off. "It's not about dad. I mean, part of it is, sure--"
"Then what is it, Dean?" I asked quietly, taking a small step toward him.
A knock on the door made Dean stand, gun in hand. He unlocked and opened the door.
"You better come see this." Dr. Lee says.
___
Stepping outside, it was quiet. Deadly quiet. The night air was cold when it hit me. Not a soul was out, no one was around. It was like the entire town had disappeared.
"There's no one. Not anywhere. They've all just vanished." Dr. Lee stated.
___
"Well, it's been five hours and your blood's still clean." Dr. Lee tells Sam and me. "Both of you. I don't understand it, but I think you dodged a bullet."
"But we were both exposed." Sam says. "How can we not be infected?"
"I don't know, but you're just not."
"I say we take the win and contemplate it later, Sammy." I shrugged.
"I mean, when you compare it with the Tanners' samples...What the hell?" Dr. Lee muttered.
"What?" Sam asked.
"Their blood. There's no trace of the virus. No sulfur, nothing."
___
Sarge and Duane decided to head south. Dr. Lee was going to head to the next town over to get some help.
Sam and I leaned against the Impala. I bit back a yawn, resting my head against his arm.
"What about them?" Dean nodded to us.
"They're gonna be fine." Dr. Lee says. "No signs of infection." She turned, walking back in the building.
Dean turned to us.
"Hey, man, don't look at me. I got no clue." Sam says.
"Me either." I mumbled. "But I do have a 'I almost died so you kind of owe me' wish." I shot Dean a wink.
"I swear, I'm gonna lose sleep over this one." Dean sighed. "I mean, why here? Why not? Where the hell did everybody go? It's not like they just freaking melted."
"And why were we immune?" Sam added.
"Yeah. You know what? That's a good question." Dean pointed at Sam and me. "You know, I'm already starting to feel like this is the one that got away."
___
I sat perched atop the fence, looking out at the calm lake. Dean stood next to me, leaning against the wooden fence post. Sam sat on his other side. I picked at the label on my beer bottle.
"So...last night." Sam says. "You wanna tell me what the hell you were talking about?"
"What do you mean?" Dean asked.
"Don't play dumb, Winchester." I nudged his arm.
"What do I mean?" Sam repeated. "I mean, you said you were tired of the job. And that it wasn't just because of dad."
"Forget it." Dean tells us.
"No, I can't. No way."
"Come on, man, I thought we were all gonna die. You can't hold that over me."
"No, no, no. You can't pull that crap with me, man." Sam shook his head.
"You will talk, Winchester. Got it?" I looked over at him.
"And what if I don't?" Dean asked.
"Then I'll...I'll do something."
"Then I guess I'll just have to keep asking until you do." Sam says.
"That's kind of boring as torture, don't you think?" I asked.
"I don't know, man. I just think maybe we oughta...go to the Grand Canyon." Dean says.
"What?" Sam asked.
"Yeah, you know, all this driving back and forth across the country. You know, I've never been to the Grand Canyon? Or we could go to TJ. Or Hollywood, see if we could bang Lindsay Lohan." Dean says.
"Okay, well, that plan is horrible. I was with you until the Hollywood part." I shrugged. "And we? Who is we? How many people are--You know what? Nevermind."
Dean chuckled a little.
"You're not making any sense." Sam pointed out.
"He's right. So, like, are both of you trying to sleep with her...Like all at once? Because that's a little weird." I continued.
"That's not what I was talking about." Sam tells me.
"Oh."
"I just think we should take a break from all this." Dean shrugged. "Why do we get stuck with all the responsibility? Why can't we live life a little bit?"
"Why are you saying all this?" Sam asked.
Dean turned, making his way back to the car.
"No, no, no, Dean. You're my brother, alright?"
"You're not actually planning on sleeping with Lindsay Lohan, are you?" I asked, jumping off the fence to follow.
Dean sighed, shaking his head. "No, Si, I'm not."
"Oh, okay, that's just a little weird."
"Anyway," Sam says, "whatever weight you're carrying, let me help a little bit. Let us help." He gestured between me and himself.
"He's right, Dean." I added. "You can lean on us. On me."
"I can't. I promised." Dean turned to face us.
"Who?" Sam asked.
"Dad."
"What are you talking about?"
"Right before dad died...he told me something." Dean stated. "He told me something about the both of you."
"What? Dean, what did he tell you?" Sam asked.