Dreamcatcher

Chapter 11 - The Walls are Crumbling

We both sit on the couch in silence. The apartment feels empty, and Daniel isn't expected back for hours. It's just Dean and me, the weight of everything hanging between us. My mind swirls as I sit there, the memories of my real life—my actual life—flooding in, piece by piece. I stare at the engagement ring on my finger, absently twirling it. It feels so foreign now. Something I thought was real, but... isn't.

Dean breaks the silence first, his voice soft but laced with urgency. "Ash, I don't know how much time I have before I wake up again. I'm out of African dream root. This might be the last time I get to come here."

His words hit me hard, but I don't respond. Instead, I slip the ring off my finger, staring at it for a long moment before setting it on the coffee table. The metal clinks softly, the sound barely registering over the storm raging in my mind. It's not real. None of it is. My parents, my brother and his family, my sweet little niece... none of them are real. It's like everything I've held onto, everything I've been building my life around, is slipping through my fingers like sand.

I feel the tears start to fall again, but I don't bother wiping them away.

Dean shifts beside me, his gaze steady on me, waiting. He speaks again, his voice careful. "Have you been having dreams?"

His question feels casual, but the weight of it hangs heavy in the air. I nod, not trusting my voice at first, then finally meet his eyes. "Yes," I manage, my voice barely above a whisper.

"What do you see in those dreams?" he asks, leaning forward a bit. "They're either memories breaking through or pieces of reality pushing through the illusion. Maybe you've seen the place where the Djinn is keeping you."

His words hang heavy between us, but I don't respond right away. My mind races back to that moment—the fight that tore everything apart. The last time I was with Dean, before everything shattered.

"We had a fight, didn't we?" My voice trembles, the anger from that day bubbling up again. "That's why I left."

Dean's face tightens, his regret evident, but it's not enough. Not for me. Not after everything.

"Yeah," he finally admits, his voice low. "We did. And it was my fault. I pushed you away because I thought it was the right thing. I thought I was keeping you safe." His jaw tightens, the weight of his guilt clear, but his calm admission only fans the flames of my anger.

"You thought you were keeping me safe?" I spit, my voice rising. "By what—shoving me out of your life? By telling me I was a burden?" The memory of that day floods back, the sting of his words cutting deep all over again. "You didn't even give me a choice, Dean. You just decided what was best for me and threw me aside like I didn't matter!"

Dean's eyes drop to the floor, avoiding my gaze, and I can feel the tension coil tighter between us. He's staring at a picture on the coffee table—one of Daniel and me, taken shortly after we moved in together. It's a picture of a life that's a lie, but even so, the fact that he's fixating on it, on us, just twists the knife deeper.

"I was wrong," he mutters, his voice thick with regret. "I've never been so wrong."

I scoff, my anger flaring. "You don't get to just say that and expect everything to be fine, Dean. You don't get to stand there and say you were wrong like it fixes anything!" My hands are trembling, my voice sharp. "Do you know how much it hurt when you told me I was holding you back? That you didn't want me around anymore? After everything we went through together, you just tossed me aside like I was nothing!"

His jaw tightens, and finally, his eyes meet mine—there's pain there, but also frustration. "I was scared, Ash!" he snaps, his voice rough. "Scared of losing you. Every time we went on a hunt, I was terrified that you'd get hurt. And then you did, and it made me realize I can't—I couldn't—keep going if something happened to you." He takes a step closer, his voice softening, but I'm not ready to forgive. Not yet.