Song Remains the Same

Chapter 49: One Big, Happy Family

"I don't want love to destroy me like it has done my family."
- Pink

Dean flicked on the light in Lisa's garage, deep inside his troubled thoughts. Jamie had dropped him back off a few minutes ago and it was midday. Ben was at school, Lisa was at work, and Dean was a wreck, even though you'd never know it from just looking at him.

His phone call with his sister repeated in his mind over and over. Was he supposed to be worried, or was he supposed to be upset? Because he was worried. Definitely worried. And hurt. And confused, because he thought she should want to see him as bad as he wanted to see her. All he wanted to know was why.

He slowly entered the garage and looked at the covered Impala pensively. It had taken everything inside of him to back off and let his sister have the space she apparently wanted or needed so badly. Dean couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with her at some deep level. Thinking back to the night she'd stormed off after putting a gun in his face worried him even more. He went over that fateful night in his mind day after day. He shouldn't have gotten drunk, he shouldn't have antagonized her or let his grief get the better of him. He'd selfishly thought no pain could top his own at losing Sam and he had felt angry at her for acting like hers was worse than his. It had been a stupid, immature, and probably totally wrong assumption. He'd recently come across an article about twins that was written by a girl who'd lost her twin. A quote from the piece haunted him: "In the co-dependent claustrophobia of our sister-sister relationship, there was a strange kind of comfort. When my sister died, it seemed unusual and painful to breathe, to stand alone, to be so unconfined. She and I had an unbreakable bond... and yet, it was broken." Funny. That's kind of how Dean felt about losing Alex. Only, she was alive. Alive and unwilling to see him. "There is nothing like losing your twin—nothing. I feel guilty for being alive. The hardest part is relearning who I am in the world without my twin. It's a long road for me."

He thought of the words he'd read on a page, imagining Alex was the one who had written those things. As bad as Dean hurt, there was growing suspicion that she was going through something worse than he was. After all, she'd been possessed by the devil however briefly. That had to leave a mark. His heart ached and he wanted to shake his sister and yell let me help you goddammit! He was barely able to function past basic necessity but he hid it, and he hid it well. The thought of Alex struggling similarly broke him.

Dean went to the back of his car and pulled the cloth cover off Baby just enough so that he could access the trunk. The sight of the familiar gleaming black body made him pause and he ran tentative fingers across the smooth surface sadly. I miss you, old girl. Dean wasn't even entirely sure why he was doing this. He kinda figured it must be sentiment. That, and patheticness. Which wasn't even a word but should be.

He opened the trunk slowly and the familiar smell of the Impala hit his nostrils—old leather, linseed oil, salt, engine oil. A wave of bittersweet nostalgia hit him as he breathed in and glanced over the contents of the trunk. Sam's old stuff—a couple duffel bags of clothes and personal effects. Dad's journal. Some hunting gear, some extra weapons. His old leather jacket—the one Jamie had nicknamed him after. Alex's backpack she'd left behind, the wallet she hadn't taken with her when she'd left so abruptly. He hadn't looked in the trunk for pretty much the entire time he'd been with Lisa. He'd shut it all away and covered it up, trying to make it all go away. But today, he wanted to look through all of it and remember; touch the things that held pieces of the life he'd lived then lost. He reached for Alex's wallet where he knew he'd find fake IDs with the stupid punny names she thought up. Some of her best hits: Al Beebak, Yura Butt, I.C. Weiner, Anita Lay, Gaye Hooker, Seymour Butts. God, they'd been so carefree in years past. When the hell had it all gotten so hopeless?