If Heaven Wasn't So Far Away

Saving Grace

The window crashed in, and everyone looked that way.
I took the opportunity to punch Jamie and slash the ropes binding my ankles, having already untied my hands while Jamie was talking.
Sam ran up to me, grabbing my arms. "Oh God, you're bleeding."
"I'm fine." I pulled from his grasp and traded my knife for a gun. "Dean, down!" I yelled. He ducked, and I fired at one of Jamie's goons, rendering him unconscious.
Sam held his hand out at Jamie, and I stared, confused. Jamie started half choking. "Get out of here, Lexie." Sam said in a strained voice.
Jamie's lips twisted into a smirk. "What'd I tell you? Pure evil." And then the demon started coming out of him. Sam's nose started to bleed, and his hand shook.
"Sam!" I gasped. Because of the blood, not the mind-exorcising.
I got to work on the remaining demon.
"Suicidal bitch." He grinned, right before I slit his throat.
Humph.

Dean had gotten his shoulder popped out of place, and Sam was unharmed.
"Gah!" Dean said as Sam popped his shoulder back into place.
I checked Jamie's pulse. He was alive. His eyes fluttered open. "Who are you?" He blinked, confused. He sat up, looking around. "Where am I? What the heck am I wearing?"
Church boy, probably from the South.
"What's your name?" I asked instead of answering him.
"Jamie..."
"Well, Jamie. You're in Disney World. I'm Lexie, and this is Sam and Dean. Where do you live?"
"Why should I tell you that?"
"So we can take you home."
"I think I'll take a taxi."
"Suit yourself." I stood, extending a hand to help him up.
He took it and stood. "What's going on?"
"We heard you screaming and came in." Dean ad-libbed. They had moved the bodies out of sight and covered the blood with various things around the room.
"Why was I screaming?" He looked at me, as if he expected Sam and Dean to be liars.
"You were unconscious when we got in here." I said.
"For how long?" He furrowed his eyebrows.
"Not long, I don't think. Maybe you should go to the doctor about that. Sleepwalking, maybe? Night terrors?"
He nodded, eyes widening. "Yeah, maybe I should."
"I suggest you go home."
He nodded again. "Yeah... Thank y'all. Bye." And he walked out.
"Are you okay?" Dean asked.
I nodded. "You?"
He nodded. "I'm good."
"Sam?"
"Fine." He said shortly. "Are you okay?" He avoided eye contact with me.
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing."
"Come on, guys. We should get out of here before anyone finds the bodies." Dean said, and left.
"Sammy, you shouldn't do that." I said.
"I know you think-"
"No you don't. I think it's causing too much pressure in your head and you should stop doing it before it kills you." I said sternly.
He blinked. "What?"
Dean poked his head in. "I kinda meant for you to follow."
We followed him.
"Did you actually...?" Dean asked as we settled into the car.
"No."
"Are you okay?"
"Yes."
"That's unfair. That'll make it easier for you not to."
"That it will."
"Damn it."
"Sorry."
"Dean, can I talk to you?" Sam asked suddenly.
He pulled over and I got out. I figured it be easier for me to get out than for them two to.
A few minutes later, Dean's door opened. "No, Sammy. I already told you no!" He slammed the door and came to join me, angrily reloading his gun.
Sam got out too. "Yes, Dean! You know you have to!"
"Sam, no is no." Dean said gruffly, throwing his gun down in the trunk. He was using the voice I'd come to recognize as the voice he uses when he actually cares very deeply about something.
Sam shoved his gun into Dean's hands. "Do it!"
What the hell?!
Dean looked exasperated and pissed off-a bad combination. "Sam, I said no. I'm not doing it."
"You have to, Dean! It has to be done. If you don't do it, somebody else will."
"I'd rather kill myself." Dean hissed.
So Sam wants Dean to kill him. Why?
Sam jerked the gun back from him and pressed it to his own head. "Fine. I'll do it myself."
I reached up and pushed the gun to an upright angle, just as he pulled the trigger. It only got his hair. I jerked the gun away and handed it to Dean. "Nobody's killing anybody." I said decidedly. I wanted to cry. My voice shook. "Hand over your weapons, Sam."
"What? No."
"Do it!" I yelled. He obeyed, eyes wide. So that's why my parents reacted how they did. But I love Sam. Does that mean. They loved me?
Dean was staring at him, horror written all over his face. Sam looked from me, to the weapons in the trunk, to Dean. I slammed the trunk closed. "I'll be in the car." I said softly.
Dean put his hand on my shoulder, stopping me. "You okay?"
"Talk to Sam." I said, giving him a tight, sympathetic smile before getting in the car.
Tears welled in my eyes, and spilled over far too soon. Glancing in the rearview mirror, I saw them hugging. At least there's that.
Dean got in the car and turned to me. "He wants to talk to you. Well, he says he doesn't, but you want to talk to him, so..."
"Is he angry?"
"No. He thinks you're scared of him and that he's a danger to you."
"Is... Is it my fault?"
"No." He said quickly. "No. Just go."
"Are you okay?"
"No."
I got out and cautiously approached him. "Hey." I said gently. "You okay, love?"
"Guess so." He looked down.
I stepped closer, but he backed up quickly, holding out his hands. "No." He said softly. "Don't."
"Why not?"
"You don't know hat I can do."
"You exorcised a demon, Sammy. So what?"
"With my mind, Lexie. I have demon blood in me. You don't know what else I can do; I don't know what I can do. Please... Just don't, okay?"
Before it could register, I threw my arms around his neck, standing on my tiptoes and still barely able to put my chin on his shoulder. "I don't care, Sam. Okay?"
He hesitated, then hugged me back tightly. "I'm sorry." He whispered.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
I kissed his cheek-more like his jaw because I can't freaking reach his cheek-and pulled back. "Ready?"
"No." He pulled me back to him. He sat down, pulling me with him, sitting me in his lap. Well.
"What-"
"Dean would think I'm weak."
"No he wouldn't."
He pushed my hair behind my ear, leaving his hand there. I'm not sure if I like this... I didn't move, though. Slowly and gently, he kissed me. "Thank you." He said.
"For what?"
"Not wanting to kill me." He kissed me again.
"Are you okay, Sammy?"
"Yes."
"Then we should get going."
"Not yet. Just a little longer."
"Are you sure you're all right, sweetie?"
"I just tried to shoot myself. I'm not okay."
I hugged him tightly. "I'm here for you, okay? Don't ever do that again. I love you. Dean loves you. We're both here for you."
"And we're here for you."
"We're talking about you here. I'm fine."
"Lexie-"
"We're talking about you here." I repeated, sliding off his lap and sitting beside him instead.
"Are you guys done?" Dean asked, coming around the side of the car. Good thing I moved. "Damn. Good thing I didn't back up."
Sam got up, helping me up also. Ugh. I can get up myself.
"Dean, can we talk?" I asked.
"I'll get in the car." Sam said.
"Hands where we can see them." I said as he closed the door.
"You okay?" I asked.
He furrowed his eyebrows, stepped forward, and pulled the neck of my shirt down.
"What the hell?" I demanded, stepping back.
"You're bleeding."
"Still?" I asked, looking down at it but not being able to see it.
He opened the trunk just as Sam opened the door, coming back. "What the hell?" He demanded.
Dean ignored him and turned around with a bandage. Sam jerked it from his hands. Dean blinked at him. "What's your problem?"
"Sam." I said.
"I'll do it." Sam growled.
I snatched it from him. "I'll do it."
"You can't even see it." Dean argued.
"I can feel it." I argued back. I'd rather miss it completely than let anyone else do it.
Sam grabbed it back from me and I stood stiffly while he bandaged it. "You okay?"
"Yes. He made the big deal out of it, not me."
Sam got back in the car.
"I know what you're feeling, love." I said. "You're not alone, okay?"
"And what am I feeling?" He raised his eyebrows. "You sound like a shrink."
I chose to ignore the last comment. "Fear. Sorrow. Worry. Anxiety. Horror."
"Wow. You're good."
"It's normal to feel that way." According to my therapist. Not that I'll tell him that. "But I'm here if you need to talk."
"Yeah, you too."
"And... The demon... It told me about Hell..."
"What?" He looked at me like I was crazy.
"About when you were there..."
He froze, his relaxed posture turning tense. "W-what?" Hey, I left Dean Winchester at a loss for words. Goals.
"I just figured I'd let you know I knew. You don't have to talk about it."
"What'd he tell you?" He asked guardedly.
"Well..."
"Everything?"
"I think. I don't know."
Biting his lip, he looked down, scratching the back of his neck. "And Sam thought you were scared of him." He whistled.
"I'm not scared of either of you."
"I liked it, Lex." He said. "I killed all those souls. I ripped them apart. And I liked it."
"You held out for thirty years, love. That's longer than anyone else would have. I wouldn't mind killing a few souls right now, and I probably would if I could. After thirty years of torture, I would kill as many as I could, and way before thirty years were up too. So you did really well. It's... Heroic, if you ask me." Then I realized I had called him heroic. "Not to boost your ego or anything." I added with a smile.
"You know what I think is heroic?" He leaned against the car and looked straight ahead.
"What?"
"How you've devoted your life to saving people, not out of vengeance for your parents and friends, but because you genuinely care. How you've been miserable for the better part of your life, yet you're selfless enough to put everyone else before you. I'm sure you've been there crying and cutting, and then pretending everything was fine and stopping someone from suicide. That's heroic. It's heroic that you forgive people who've hurt you unmeasurably before they even ask, and stop them from suicide, and offer to have someone check on them. It's heroic that you saved your family's life, and didn't treat them like they treat you. It's heroic that you've watched so many people die, your loved ones included, and still haven't lost your faith. It's heroic that you even have faith after all you've seen."
"That's what faith is. But you choose not to have faith." I said. But I'm not heroic at all. I just don't care about myself.
"Even after everything."
"We're talking about you here."
"I'd rather not."
"But the point is, I'm here for you if you need to talk."
"Yeah, you too."
I hugged him. "You okay?"
"Yeah. Are you?" He hugged me back tightly.
"Yeah."

"Sam, you should get some sleep, sweetie." I said gently.
"I'm not tired."
"Sam," Dean said, "You need sleep."
"So do you."
"Both of you sleep then. I'll drive." I said.
"You need sleep too." Sam said.
"Fine. We'll go to a motel."
We pulled into a motel, and Dean went to get a room while Sam and I stocked up on weapons.
I caught his hand as he started to pull a weapon from the trunk. "You won't use it on yourself?" I eyed the gun.
"I won't." He said. I didn't look at him, but I figured he was rolling his eyes. "So..." He said. "Did you enjoy talking to Jamie?"
"Which one?"
"Demon one."
"Before or after he kidnapped me and tied me up?"
"Before."
"Before or after I found out he was a demon?"
"Before."
"You want me to say no." I observed.
"I want honesty. But no would be preferable." He added.
"Kind of, I guess. But not at first."
"Why?"
"Because he was... Well, like your brother. Except worse."
"Oh."
"Are you okay?" I watched him carefully.
"Yeah."
"Come on." Dean said. We followed him to the room. "I call bed." He grinned.
"Damn." Sam smiled.
"You know, I can sleep on the couch." I interjected.
"No." Sam said.
I put my stuff on the couch. "Too bad."
Sam picked me up and Dean picked up my stuff, both of them dropping their loads on the bed farthest from the door.
"I'm not some weak damsel." I argued.
"Didn't say you were." Dean collapsed in the other bed. "Get the lights, Sammy."
Sam turned off the light and got on the couch.
I stared up at the ceiling for a little while. Despite recent events, I feel pretty safe. I've never felt this safe before.