Note from Nicki:
So this wasn't how I was planning on making this chapter. The beginning is the same, yes, but I wasn't really expecting a lot of this stuff to happen. I rewrote it like ten thousand times because I just wasn't satisfied with the way it was turning out. Please don't give me any hatred over this chapter because this is how it turned out, and I can't change it. I personally don't think it's that bad, but I know that some people will. I'm sticking with it, because I this is what will be the best. Thank you to all of those who are understanding to why it took so long to update. I really do appreciate it.
By the time that I almost forgot about archer, almost a week had passed. I hadn't fared well after killing Alyssa, but after a few more kills, I started to get used to the feeling of regret, as awful as that sounded.
Still, I would get random shocks of pain in my chest that would suck all the air out of my lungs, squish my heart, and send it racing a the same time. Usually Sam and Dean were with me and I would have to excuse myself to a different area, which usually consisted of being a bathroom. During those episodes, I wouldn't hyperventilate, as one would think. I wouldn't be able to breath at all, or so it felt like it. Even though my heart would race, my breath would slow and I would get light headed and woozy, and since I didn't know what to do, I would just have to wait it out in slight terror and grief until it subsided.
In one particular episode of this, I had been alone in the motel. Sam and Dean were both "going out," which I assumed meant them going out to a bar. This was one of the worst mental attacks. I had just been making some food from the cheap little motel microwave when it hit, and I spent the next two hours trying to calm my heart down and trying not to cry.
Luckily, after a nice warm bath and some tea, even though it was long and tedious time, it went away.
Neither Sam or Dean would let me go with them on any hunting trips for at least two weeks. Apparently, Dean got it out of Cas that my bone ended up sticking out of my leg, and they didn't think I was okay. How Dean even guessed anything, I didn't even know, but still. I knew I had quite a few bruises, and was quite sore still, but I felt like I could do whatever I could. But, just to appease the boys, I complied, and stayed wherever they wanted me to.
The hotel room we were staying in was a quaint little place in Coastal Wickford Village in Rhode Island. The walls were yellow and the floor was brown. To explain it would make it sound like a bumblebee, but it was rather pretty. The yellow was the colour of sunshine and the brown was the colour of rich tree branches. In a weird way, it made me think of a forest when the sunlight is lighted through the leaves in a way that looked like heaven was looking down upon you.
Across the two-lane road from the inn we were staying in, there was a park, and so far, everyday, for the past three days, I would go out and swing on the swings, all alone. It was peaceful, and once in a while a child would be there, playing with their mother or father, or both. Their screams of joy made it all the more peaceful in an odd way. It made me think of when I was a child and my parents would take me to the park. The children's smile's mirrored their parent's, and it was wonderful to hear them laugh.
The only sad part about it, to me and the child, was leaving. Most of the time the child would scream or cry or just pout, but I don't remember seeing a kid who was happy to say goodbye to their playground.
Except for one kid.
This kid was a little boy and he was the definition of adorable. About four or five, his rosy cheeks, black hair, and light brown eyes were precious. He was sitting alone on one of the benches. In his hands were crayons and set in front of him was a sketchpad which had obviously been owned for a long time, from the torn cover, scuff marks around the edges, and amount of drawings in there. I couldn't tell what he was drawing but I was growing curious as the minutes passed. His mothter came and asked him if he wanted to play with the other kids (which I only knew that from her gestures). He frowned and shook his head in an annoyed yet intelligent manner, then looked intently back at his drawing.
The mother looked a little crestfallen but ruffled the boys hair and walked off. I wanted to see what he was drawing so I got up and walked down to where he sat.
I was staring at the back of the kids head as I asked as non-creepily as possible, "Hey, little man. Whats up?"
He turned his head around and looked at me, annoyance evident in his eyes. "I am not little. I am five years old. And I'm busy, so please, leave me alone."
The polite part of me told me that I should leave and listen to him, but something kept me rooted to the spot.
"What's your name?" I asked.
"What's yours?" he retorted.
I thought about how I would respond for a minute, and when I found the right words, I spoke again. "I'm Jules," and then, remembering what it was like to be a child and to talk to strangers, "It's okay if you don't tell me your name. I understand older people can be scary. Just tell me what you want to be called."
Without realizing it, he smirked. "I'm batman."
Laughing, I changed the subject. "What are you drawing?"
I saw his eyes light up a bit, and at that moment I realized that he probably didn't have too many people asking him about the things he liked to do. Something told me he only ever got to talk about the things the grownups talked about. I understood how he was feelings because sometimes I felt like that with Sam and Dean.
He immediately smiled and told me, "I'm drawing a story. See this girl right here? She's really nice and pretty. I haven't named her yet, but I'm leaning towards Aria. She hunts magical creatures that are bad. Right now though she's in a room and she's about to die. Don't worry, though, because she's going to get better."
It was a really creative idea, and I couldn't help but admire his drawings, which were very detailed for a child of his age. "Can I see them?" I asked.
Without uttering another word, he handed me his drawings. I looked at them for a while and was about to compliment him when my voice caught in my throat as a sudden realization hit me.
The girl, possibly-named-Aria, looked EXACTLY like me. In cartoon/five-year-old drawing form, of course.
Her hair was long and brown and wavy. She was wearing the same outfit I was at that moment, jeans, hiking boots, and a plaid t-shirt I borrowed from Sam that was way too big for me. Her big blue eyes were blankly staring at the creature that hovered over her, a dark shadow.
I immediately got goosebumps and wanted to cry. I couldn't say exactly why it made me so upset all of a sudden, but I think I knew. I had been told about people that could see things, like the future, and what if this little boy was seeing what would happen? Probably. I bet I'm going to die.
Way to be positive.
Ignoring the chills that set themselves over my body, I looked down at the little boy and tacked on a carefree smile that showed nothing to how I felt.
"These are so interesting," I said to him.
His eyebrows furrowed together in confusion and reproach. "Good or bad interesting?" he asked.
Bad. So, so bad. "Good, of course."
And then, because I was a paranoid person, I thought I saw exactly what he drew, the dark shadow. But, upon looking at it and seeing that it wasn't really there, I had to tell myself that it was just my imagination.
Still, I'd been around Sam and Dean long enough to know that you can't just ignore those feelings and thoughts.
My paranoia increased, as did my pulse.
"Well, Batman, I have to go now, but it was great talking with you. I'll see you around sometime, okay?"
He nodded his head, waved to me, and turned his body right back to his drawings, smiling all the while.
As I turned around and walked away, I was able to take off my mask of happiness I had on for that child, and I was sure that my worry was prominent.
Back in the motel room, I paced constantly, trying to roll the uneasiness off of me. Surely that whole drawing and story was just a coincidence... Right?
Yeah, not likely.
I couldn't hold the terror in anymore. It got too hot all of a sudden, so I took off some of my clothes, leaving me in boxer-shorts, and a tank top. And then, I had another panic attack. My heart was pounding, and my vision was fuzzy, and I just couldn't keep in any emotions I was feeling. I grabbed the lamp beside the bed and threw it across the room. It shattered. I was momentarily shocked by my strength of being able to break it, but the cloudiness came across my brain again and I needed another release. I ran over to the mirror, and hit it with both hands. the entire thing came down on top of me dramatically and the bigger pieces sliced my skin while the smaller ones dug themselves in my skin. I didn't even register the pain. I realized that wasn't a good release, so I grabbed one of the pillows, fell to my knees, on top of more glass, and screamed, and screamed, and screamed myself hoarse until the only thing coming from my throat was dry air.
I laid down on the cool bed and covered my face with my arms. For what felt like hours I just laid on the scratchy bedding. I knew that 'til the day I died, I would agree that tonight I was being pretty darn dramatic, but quite frankly, I didn't care.
When the light had faded, and everything was dark, a car door slammed from outside the room. I vaguely heard Dean's voice sounding proud of whatever was going on. Before they could make it to the door, I quickly got under the covers and pretended that I was asleep.
The key unlocked and the door slid open. Dean's voice said, " - and I'd like to think it's because - What the hell?"
I stayed in the same position and my eyes opened in tiny slits to see their silhouettes. They stood in the middle of the doorway. I wasn't able to see their expressions because it was too dark and my eyes weren't open enough, but I could tell that they were quite surprised.
I tried to imagine what it seemed like from their point of view, which was rather hard to do because I didn't really pay attention in the first place to what I did to it, but I tried. The hotel room that they paid for was extremely messed up, and could possibly have blood stains - my blood stains - in random places. The thought came up in my brain that I probably should be feeling some pain from the glass, but it still didn't register. Not that I was complaining.
"Umm..." Sam started. He opened his mouth, closed it, opened it, and then closed it again, seemingly at a loss for words.
Dean seemed to find the words Sam was missing. "Well, at least she isn't dead."
Okay, maybe not quite the words Sam wanted to say.
In a rather condescending voice, Sam said, "Dean, that's not funny."
"I was dead serious."
"I know, but... I think she broke... Do you think it's a good idea to keep her with us?"
"Oh yeah," Dean responded sarcastically, "Let's just throw her back into the real world where she doesn't have any demons after her. Where her father doesn't even remember he had a daughter. What a great plan! I'm sure she'd enjoy going back to school where her demon-teacher kidnapped her... She's fine. Like we never have moments like these."
"Dean - "
My own voice sliced through the air and the two boys flinched, surprised that I was awake, and at the venom in it. "What?"
I turned over and turned on the lamp. They both looked like deers caught in headlights. Their eyes were wide and mouths were open in a comical 'o' and under any other circumstances, I think I would have laughed at their expressions, but I couldn't at the moment because of the information I just processed.
"What?" I repeated. "My dad's alive?"
Now their expressions just turned to confusion. Sam asked, "Your dad? Of course he's alive. What did you think happened to him?"
"Well, when you first said that 'he was taken care of,' I thought you meant, like, he was dead or something, and you were just trying to cover it up, and I didn't want to hear anything worse, so I just kinda went along with it. What?" And then, more to myself, I whispered, "He's alive?"
What I said was true. I did believe that they meant that he was dead. Holy... What?
I shook my head and looked up at them, suddenly furious. "Why did you take me along with you guys if I had my freaking father?!"
Dean didn't flare up, but got defensive. "There are demons coming after you, Jules. I thought you understood that. And the only way to keep your father safe was to have him forget he was ever married, or had any kids. Right now he's just a single dude in his 40s living in New York as a Lawyer, just like he's always been. I thought... I thought you knew."
"It would have been nice if you had told me," I hissed.
He turned his face to the floor in embarassment. Sam looked like he wanted to say something, but something stopped him. Again.
"Well you know what?!" I bursted out through the silence they gave off. My voice was rough from all the screaming I could do, and for the rest of the night, it sounded raw.
Dean's green eyes connected with mine, and I took that as a "Go ahead Jules, tell me what I need to know." So I continued.
A cold laugh, filled with anything but amusement, filled the room. "It doesn't even matter anymore. Because even after all I freaking went through, my family doesn't matter to you guys."
"Jules," Sam said in a small voice, contrasting with his large body. "We are your family."
"We may be blood, but we are NOT family," I spat out. Dean's head lifted up and I saw the raw hurt in his eyes from those words, but they just lasted for a second because a cold mask covered his face.
And all of a sudden, I wanted to take back the words I said. But the mask on Dean's face and the fact that I wasn't even able to see Sam's made it hard for me to think of words to take them back. "I - I -"
"No. Fine." Dean's deep, hard voice spoke, with no emotion. "We'll take you back." He paused, turning and moving towards the bathroom door. "I can't sleep with all this glass on the floor. I'm going to sleep in the bathroom. Night."
"Wait, Dean." I said, shocking myself.
He stopped, but didn't turn to look at me.
I cleared my throat and softened my voice as I continued. "I think... Well, it's my fault the glass is on the floor. So, I'll be the one sleeping in the bath." I got up and pulled the blankets off of me.
Sam hissed.
Dean, who got curious from Sam's noises, turned around, and reacted the same way his brother did.
I was only wearing what I changed into: Iron Man Boxer Shorts, and a black tank top, and I looked down at my visible skin. I was able to comprehend what they were hissing at.
It wasn't too bad, from my personal point of view. I mean, my skin had a lot of yellow from the healing bruises, which probably made everything look worse, but it really wasn't that bad. To me.
I was covered in blood. Well, dried blood, but blood nonetheless. They came from the random glass shards that broke my skin, and the glass pieces that were stuck in my skin.
"What happened?" Sam asked.
"It doesn't really matter, honestly," I said, not really wanting them to know. If I was honstly, I'd say that I was pretty embarrassed.
"Yes, Jules. It does. Don't be stubborn," Dean scolded.
I don't know why, but that made me tear up. "I just... I don't know! I don't know what happened! My brain just fried or something! Just... I'm going to go to sleep." I started to walk into the bathroom, pushing myself past Dean's outstretched hand.
"Jules," he started.
I inturrupted him, tears already falling down my face. "No! Don't! Whatever you are going to say, it's not going to help. I'm just tired, allright? Just leave me alone."
"Jules," Sam said. He crossed the room and tripped. After quickly righting himself up, he grabbed my arm. "You don't have to tell me what happened. You are not sleeping in the bathroom. Dean and I will sleep in that bed."
"No," I snapped, and glared at him. "I'm not sleeping in a bed. Good freaking night." I started to turn around again, but Sam's grip tightened on me.
"Allright, that's it." Sam picked me up, and carried me over to the bed. I started to thrash around, fear slightly building up in me again. I knew he wouldn't touch me, but it brought back memories of when I was kidnapped, and the things the demon did to me. Sam laid me down on the bed, me still kicking, and I wasn't calming down, so he had to hold me down. My mind kept telling me that he was doing it so I would calm down, but my body remembered everything, and it was telling me to leave.
"No," I started sobbing. I was seriously losing my mind. "Don't touch me. Don't touch me. Please. Mr. Lawrence. Stop."
Sam froze. "Jules?" He let go of me, and I curled up in a ball at the side of the bed, my body turned away from my two brothers. My breath was coming out in ragged sobs. I needed to calm down, but I couldn't.
They were silent, and the only noise in the room was my crying.
After ten minutes neither boy had moved. I calmed down enough to know that it was time that I told them everything that had happened.
I sat up, sitting criss-cross-apple-sauce'd, slouched over, my back curved in such an unlady-like manner. "Okay," I said, my voice shaking.
"I think you guys need to know everything you should about me."
They stared at me with blank faces and I motioned them to sit down on the other bed. They did, and they both sat in the same position, their legs hung over the beds. I sighed.
"Go ahead," Sam said, his sympathetic self.
"Well, I think I'll start from the reason why I'm here in the first place. You guys know that I was kidnapped, but I don't think you know what happened or what exactly they wanted from me.
"I always knew that demons were real. For some reason, my believing was something actually helped me in the end, because a lot of research was done for them. I don't know why I always felt so attatched to the idea of supernatural beings being you know, real... But I'm really glad I did, because if I hadn't, I really don't think I would be here right now.
"You guys are giving me confused faces. It was my teacher, Mr. Lawrence that kidnapped me. At first, I thought he had just went crazy, because he was always such a positive guy, and really fun, but something was telling me otherwise. Then I saw his eyes turn black, and I knew it finally happened.
"He threatened me to get into his car while I was at a gas station. I don't know why I was being dumb and got in with him, but I did. To this day, I have no idea where he took me, but it was someplace cold, and dark. The first few days were awful. I mean, I didn't have any clothes, for one, and it was like we moved to the artic. I was stuck in this room, and he strapped me to this metal table. I know the little details don't matter, but I'm going to tell you anyway.
"He tortured me." They didn't seem surprised, but their faces went several shades whiter and Sam had the most heartbreaking look on his face. But still, they didn't say anything. Tears started to fall through my eyes again, and as I talked, my already hoarse voice went deeper and started to crack every few words.
"At first it was just the things you'd hear about and cringe. What he wanted was to get information about you two. Where you were, mostly. He asked over and over agian, but I had never met you guys. I didn't even know why he thought I knew you. Well, obviously now I understand why he thought that. I mean, you guys are my brothers. Anyways, I think you guys were meant for something, or needed. But I just didn't know.
"Every night, after everything seemed too much for me, I finally passed out, after hours and hours of this. And when I woke up the next morning, I didn't have a scratch on me.
"The third day, I think he realized that I wasn't going to tell him anything that way. So he tried something else." By now I was breathing and crying hard again. Sam closed his eyes, trying to shield his eyes from my pain, I think, but Dean looked straight at me. I could tell that he wanted to get up and hold me or something, but any human touch right now was not what I needed, and he could see that. In his eyes, I could tell that he wanted to take away my pain. But he couldn't. Not now.
"I... He r- " I tried getting out the words but I started getting too emotional. Finally, I choked out, "And he did things to me that no man should ever do to a woman." I wouldn't ever be able to say the word rape unless I was forced to, but they definitely got the picture. Sam stood up, wanting to hug me, but Dean grabbed his arm, forcing him back down. I silently thanked Dean with a nod of my head.
"But then my mind came back to me, and I was able to think of what I needed to say. I don't know why I hadn't thought of it before, but that really was probably the worst wake-up call a person could ever have. I read somewhere a long time ago about excorsizing a demon. I never memorized the entire thing. I was going to, but you know, school got in my way, and eventually I forgot about it. But I knew the first line, and I repeated it. At first he just stopped. But then, as I repeated the one line over and over again, he screamed, and the demon left his body. You have no idea how grateful I was to see that.
"And then my teacher woke up. Thank goodness his mind wasn't too damaged. He knew everything he did, and he was so sorry. As quickly as he could, he wrapped me up in the blanket and carried me out to his car. I hadn't been healed from the morning, and I definitely hadn't been healed from the other thing, so he had to carry me, because I wasn't able to get up.
"Anyways, after getting out of the hospital, you guys showed up." I smiled a little. "I knew you guys were fakes. I'm surprised nobody ever caught you before." I laughed.
"And then my mother somehow became a demon. I knew it wasn't her, because she was always sweet to me. You guys know that story. And then there was that thing in the shooting place. I don't understand that. It wasn't the same demon, but I knew she was one of the demons that wanted you guys. Except, she didn't want you guys anymore. I don't understand why she wanted me, all of a sudden.
"I had to then kill my best friend, who suddenly turned into a vampire. That gun is important, by the way, though I still don't know what it's for. Then we left the vampire place, looking for that gun. There really was a guy that left with it. He was the guy that I was talking to when you guys thought I was going insane. He was invisible to you guys, but not to me. But I got him to leave within a few hours, because I am a badass."
I stopped and took a shuddering breath. "For the past week, I've been having really bad panic attacks. And today I went to the park, and there was this kid. He was drawing, so I went over to talk to him. He was drawing me, guys. But in the drawing, I wasn't happy. I was about to die. I don't know when that's going to happen, but it's going to. Tonight was just too much for me. I'm sorry I ruined the room. I'll find a way to fix it."
Then, suddenly, I didn't have any more words to say, and I was exhausted. I just poured my entire heart out, and now I don't have a word to say.
Seeing that I was done, Sam got up and sat down beside me. I was so little compared to him, even though I was almost six feet tall. He put his arm around me and I put my head into his chest, and for the millionth time tonight, I cried.