Angelica Lilith Winchester

EIGHTEEN

*TRIGGER WARNING: MENTION OF SELF HARM/SUICIDAL THOUGHTS*

I sat cross legged on the ground staring at the three items in front of me. On the left was a six pack. To the right was one of my silver knives. Between them sat my phone. I was at war with myself. I knew I had promised Dean I would call, but my mind was going to some scary dark places and it was really tempting to go for one of the other items. The knife in particular seemed the most appealing in the situation I was currently in. I wasn't sure what had made me snap. My day had started out fine. In fact, I hadn't felt the urge to cut or drink at all since I had gone off on my own a month and a half prior.

Then my mood started to change around noon. I had been looking into a local haunting at the time. The change was subtle. Almost imperceptible at first. However, over the course of the hours that followed, I noticed it get worse and worse until I found myself in the position I was in currently. In the crappy motel room I had managed to get myself, on the floor, fighting the urge to do something I would regret. My hand hovered over the handle of the blade. The drinks were totally off limits in my mind. I had promised Dean I wouldn't drink without calling him first. I had never said anything about not cutting, though.

Swallowing, my hand closed around one of the items as I made a split second decision.

XxX

Dean's POV

"Well, I have my concerns, but... Jack trusts Billie, and I trust Jack," Cass stated.

"What about the cosmic balance, Cass?" Sam asked. "I mean, Jack's gonna kill God. What about Amara?"

I stood from the table and picked up my beer, sighing.

"I don't know. I don't know. But I have seen Billie's library and have spent time with her. I... well, 'trust' is a strong word, but... I believe in her. There's no one more committed to the rules than she is. She's probably got it all figured out."

"Probably?" Sam scoffed. "Like she had the Ma'lak box all figured out?"

"Yeah, I dunno. I mean, she's still Death. She was right about Rowena."

"All I'm saying is, I wish we knew more."

"Yeah, I got questions too, but right now this is the only plan we got."

"Right," Sam rolled his eyes, leaving the kitchen.

"Dean---" Cass started, but was cut off by my phone ringing in my pocket.

I glanced at him, apologetic as I answered the unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Dean? I messed up..."

"Angie? Is that you? What happened?"

"I know I told you that I'd... I mean, I didn't exactly break that promise, but I... I swear I didn't mean---"

"Angie, calm down. Tell me what happened."

"I cleaned it up, Dean, but--- but..."

"What is it?" 

"I didn't mean to make it that deep..."

"Didn't mean to make what deep?" I swallowed, eyes wide as I listened to Angie's frantic rambling.

"There was so much blood..."

My heart dropped in my chest. I knew after we had found her half dead drunk when she left after our fight that she wasn't very good mentally. She put on a good front, made it seem like she was fine most of the time, but I could see it in her eyes how broken she actually was. Not a day went by that I didn't beat myself up over the fact that if Sam and I hadn't ditched her at Jody's all those years ago, then she would probably have been fine.

"Angie, take some deep breaths. It's going to be okay. Where are you?"

"Star Crest Motel. Room 6. In Topeka."

"Okay, stay where you are. I'm coming to get you."

"Dean, I'm sorry."

"You have nothing to be sorry about, kiddo. Just hang tight. I'll be there in a few hours."

The line went dead then and I hurried off.

XxX

I pulled up outside the motel and turned off the engine. Climbing out of the Impala, I made my way to the door with the bold number 6 on display. I pounded three times, listening for noise from inside. When nothing happened, I tried again. This time, the door swung open and I found myself face to face with the young woman I had raised.

Her straight, shoulder length brown hair was a mess and her face shone with tear tracks, her blue eyes red and puffy. She wore plain blue jeans and a black shirt under a red flannel. Her jean jacket lay behind her on the bed and one of her sleeves was rolled up, revealing a neat white bandage wrapped around her forearm.

"Dean," she breathed, wrapping her arms around me.

"Hey, kiddo. Shh, it's alright. I'm here."

I pressed my lips to the top of her head glancing around the small room. I noticed a six pack of beer sitting on the floor next to a bloody knife and a cell phone. My heart clenched in my chest as I connected the dots.

"Come on. Let's sit down and you can tell me what happened," I urged her.

She nodded against my chest before pulling back and walking over to one of the beds, completely ignoring the items on the floor. I closed the door to the room before joining her. Fresh tears appeared in the corners of her eyes as she took a shaky breath and began to explain to me what had happened. Apparently, she had heard rumors of a local haunting and decided to look into it, but slowly felt herself spiraling throughout the day, finally snapping last night. When she finished her tale, she turned and buried her face in my shoulder, her body wracked with sobs.

"Shh. Shh. It's alright, Angie. Everything's going to be okay, I promise."

I put my arms around her, rubbing slow circles on her back while she cried. I hated seeing her like this, so broken and afraid.

"I---I---I knew I sh-should have called y-you sooner, b-but I c-couldn't bring myself to pick up the phone," she choked out between sobs.

"Shh, it's okay, Angie. I understand. I'm here now. That's what matters."

"Y-you're not m-mad at me?"

"I could never truly be mad at you, kiddo. Especially about something like this. I'm glad you called me."

Angie shifted in my arms, pulling her legs up onto the bed and laying her head in my lap instead. I ran my fingers through her hair as her tears subsided into dry heaves.

"Do you want to come back to the Bunker with me? You could take it easy for a while and I could keep an eye on you."

"O-okay," came her timid reply.

I picked her up in my arms bridal style and carried her out to the car, setting her in the passenger seat.

"I'm going to gather your things. Just stay here, alright?"

She nodded numbly, staring at one spot on the dashboard without really absorbing much. I swallowed, shutting the door and heading back into the room. I grabbed her cell off the floor and her jacket, putting them into her bag. I then put the beer in the fridge before picking up the bloody knife. After washing it off in the sink in the bathroom, I slipped it into my inside pocket, not wanting to put it back in her bag. Giving the room a final once over, I shut the door and looked at the young girl in the old car.

She was still staring numbly into space as I put her bag in the backseat and climbed behind the wheel. I gave her one last, sad look before starting the car and reversing out of the parking lot.