𝕭𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 ² *ᴇᴅɪᴛɪɴɢ*

Chapter Fifty-Seven: The Price

     Dean and I returned to the Impala, where Sam waited after getting the car while Dean stayed with Lisa and Ben. As Dean explained what we had done—erasing himself from their memories—I could see the disapproval etched on Sam's face. He didn't agree with the decision, and it showed in every line of his expression. But he kept his mouth shut about what he truly thought.

Once Dean finished explaining, he headed back into the hospital. No doubt the doctors had already removed the ventilator and were closely monitoring Lisa's recovery. Sam and I were left alone together. He sat in the passenger seat while I leaned back into the leather driver's seat, hands resting on the wheel.

If only Dean would let me take the Impala for a spin, I thought, my fingers lightly brushing over the material. The familiar texture under my grip made me wonder what it would feel like to drive the Impala.

Sam shifted in his seat, his boots scraping slightly against the floor of the Impala. He glanced at me, his eyes studying my face for a moment before he finally broke the silence.

"You think he made the right call?" he asked, his tone low, almost hesitant, but his curiosity clear.

I tilted my head, keeping my gaze on the steering wheel, fingers tracing the faint grooves in the material. "I do. He's protecting them,"

"But erasing him completely from their memories?" Sam questioned, leaning back into the seat, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His gaze was sharp, almost demanding, as he searched my face for answers. "Why did you agree to do it?"

I turned my head to meet his expectant eyes, the weight of his question settling in the space between us.

"I agreed because I saw a man in pain," I began, my voice unwavering. "I saw how broken he was, helpless as he watched Lisa slipping away... If it hadn't been for Cas," my words faltered, unsure of what might've happened if he hadn't used his power to heal her. I was still pissed at him, but maybe this softened my anger a little. "I told him the price he'd have to pay for a spell like that," I replied.

"And what was that?" Sam asked quickly, his concern barely hidden behind a calm facade as if he was worried Dean had sold a piece of his soul or something.

"That the spell was irreversible," I said softly. "I can't undo it or bring their memories back. Once it was done, that was it... and he agreed to it. That was the price," I added, knowing all too well that magic always comes with a price—whether you pay it now or later.

"I'm sorry if you think it's shady, but it's better they forget than be dead, with their lives weighing on his conscience," I told the truth as I saw it—them alive, forgetting who he was, so they could be safe and live their lives without the danger that came with knowing him. Knowing that monsters exist.

Silence settled over the car again, as Sam struggled to find the words. What could he say? It was done now; it was in the past. I inhaled deeply, my fingers tightening around the steering wheel as if trying to ground myself. The material beneath my grip creaked softly, stretching slightly under the pressure.

I could feel Sam's eyes boring into me, but I turned my head, focusing on the view outside the driver-side window. My gaze landed on Dean as he emerged from the hospital, his face etched with pain and sadness, every step heavy with the weight of what had just happened. Sam must have noticed too, because he opened the car door and stepped out, leaning against the vehicle as he watched Dean approach.

Meanwhile, I had already teleported to the backseat, positioning myself in the middle so I could watch both of them as they got in. I watched as Dean made his way over to the Impala, his boots heavy on the ground, each step deliberate but weighed down with something I couldn't quite place. His hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, the way he always did when he was trying to hide what he was really feeling. His head was low, eyes fixed on the ground, not wanting to meet anyone's gaze. His shoulders were tense, stiff with that burden he always carried the one that seemed to get heavier every time something went wrong. The subtle slump of his posture told me he was exhausted, physically and emotionally drained like the fight had been sucked out of him. I could see it in the tight set of his jaw, the furrow between his brows—he was hurting, and even though he might never say it, it was always written all over him.

"Well?" Sam asked, his voice edged with impatience as Dean approached.

"Well, nothing," Dean shot back quickly, his words curt. He didn't even spare Sam a glance as he reached for the car door, pulling it open and sliding in without hesitation. I knew Sam wouldn't let it go.

Sam slid into the car, leaving the door open behind him, the tension thick in the air. Silence settled over us like a heavy blanket, suffocating the space between the three of us. Dean's gaze, distant and lost, drifted back toward the hospital, his eyes lingering on the building as if unable to leave the place.

"Dean, you have pulled some shady crap before, but this has got to be the worst," Sam said, his voice laced with disbelief. He still couldn't fully accept what his brother had asked me to do. The weight of it was sinking in, and I could tell he wasn't ready to face the reality of it. "Whitewashing their memories? Take it from somebody who knows—"

"If you ever mention Lisa or Ben to me again, I will break your nose," Dean said coldly, his voice a sharp warning that left no room for argument. The truth in his words was clear, and Sam could hear it. Sam stared at his older brother, searching his face for any hint of doubt, but there was nothing. Dean's expression was set, unwavering, and resolute.

"Dean—"

"I'm not kidding," Dean interrupted sharply, his gaze snapping to Sam. His eyes, though soft, betrayed a deep well of unshed tears. He was hurting, and it was clear in the way his voice wavered despite his tough exterior.

Sam locked eyes with him for a long moment, before finally nodding to him, silently accepting the condition Dean had set.

Without another word, Sam shut the car door, and Dean started the engine as the purr of the engine filled the silence. I couldn't help myself; I reached out, placing my hand gently on Dean's shoulder. I could feel the tension in his muscles, tight and coiled beneath my touch. But as my hand remained there, offering silent comfort, I felt it slowly begin to ease, if only a little.

Once I felt the tension had eased enough, I slowly withdrew my hand. Dean shifted the car into gear and began to drive away from the hospital, leaving behind the life he had known for the past year—the woman he had almost imagined settling down with. He was driving away from a life that could have been if things were different...

*******************

‎‧₊˚✧ [𝔸𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖𝕤] ✧˚₊‧

╰┈➤ I want to wish everyone a Merry Christmas!! I hope you all have a fantastic day, and get everything you want! Don't forget to be safe!
╰┈➤ Also sorry for it being a short chapter, as it was the end of an episode. On another note, this book is nearly finished! Only a few more chapters to go!