If Heaven Wasn't So Far Away

Honesty is the Best Policy

"So all the missing people were abusive, and started acting weird halfway through the haunted house." Sam said, getting out his computer. "The founder's daughter was abused by her boyfriend. He killed her... She was cremated." Sam said after a minute.
Great. So what do we do, burn down the building? Damn it. "How old was she?"
"Seventeen."
"Wasn't he a bit old for her?" I did the math in my head. "That was only four years. Never mind. Anyways."
"Is the founder still alive?" Dean asked.
"Yeah. He's sixty-seven."
"How long ago did the girl die?"
"Twenty years."
"What was her name?" I asked.
"Analise." Sam said.
"Let's go talk to her dad, then." I stood.
"I'll go talk to him." Dean said. "You two... Go have fun." He winked conspicuously at Sam.
"Dean-"
"Don't Dean me."
"Well, Lex, how do you like haunted houses?" Sam said.
"No," Dean said. "Do something normal."
"Haunted houses are normal to normal people." I pointed out, sitting once again, as it appeared we weren't moving.
"Do something that actual normal people do, not just dicks who want an excuse to act strong and protective." Dean said. I raised my eyebrows. "What? We've all done it." He said defensively. "Just go on a date. Without monsters. Okay?"
"Are you against dates, or just physical things?" Sam asked.
I threw a wadded up napkin at his face. It bounced off his nose and fell onto his empty plate. "How about we get ice cream?"
"Ice cream it is." Sam smiled.
"And get your own room." Dean added.
"No way in Hell." I said.
"Did you seriously just turn down sex?" Dean asked, flabbergasted.
"Watch." Sam said. He moved from the chair beside Dean to the chair beside me and put his arm around me.
"Move it or lose it." I said flatly, staring straight ahead.
He moved quickly. "See?"
"Son of a bitch. Maybe sex shouldn't be on your agenda. She may cut off your dick."
Sam and I laughed as a man behind Dean turned to us. "Is it proper to speak to a young lady like that?" He asked. He wasn't even old. He was probably Dean's age.
"This isn't the nineteenth century," Dean accurately pointed out.
"I don't care. You're grown men. She can't be more than nineteen."
"I'm twenty-two." I said, irritated.
"Twenty-three." Sam said.
"Twenty-eight." Dean said. "They're both my responsibility, and I'll talk to them however I want."
"I'm no one's responsibility but my own." I said, even more irritated.
"Now you're mine."
"Dean, I'm twice as mature as you if anything, you're mine."
Dean gestured to me. "Exactly."
"You're a piss-poor excuse for a man." The asshole said.
"Hey." Sam and I exclaimed defensively in unison. Dean only cocked an eyebrow. "She may look sweet and innocent, but she can and will kick your ass." Sam added, visibly moving away from me.
"Then you're a damn sorry man too."
"Shut the fuck up." I said, gripping my knife in my pocket.
"No decent man would talk like that in front of a lady."
"You sexist son of a bitch."
To Sam, Dean said proudly, "I've rubbed off on her, huh?"
The man looked appalled. "No lady should talk like that either."
"Uhh, you wanna go to the car, Dean?" Sam asked.
"What if she tries to kill him, though?" Dean asked.
"We'll have to testify against her in court."
"Yeah, let's go." He stood up.
"Sit your ass down." I said, which he did. I turned to the guy. "Don't butt in on other peoples' conversations. It's impolite."
"You shouldn't be with people like them."
Who is he to tell me how to live my life? "You want me to be a nun?" I rolled my eyes.
"Yes."
"Not Catholic, sorry."
"Consider it. You won't have to worry about people like them, then."
Sam jerked the knife from my hand and put it in his pocket. I stood up, my irritation now bordering on murderous anger. "I can take care of myself, thanks. They've been better to me than anyone else has ever been, so you should probably fuck off. When he said I can kick your ass, he was serious. I can and will kick your ass, and then you'll have to deal with them. And they're larger and stronger, so they can do worse than I could. I suggest-"
Dean grabbed my arm, pulling me away. "That's enough, Lex. You've made your point."
But I wanted to kick his ass...
As we walked to the car, Dean still with an iron grip on my arm, Sam voiced what all of us had been thinking. "What if he heard the rest?"
"He seemed pretty... Outgoing. I doubt he would've hesitated to call us out on that too." Dean said.
I'd talked myself dry; I was tired of it already.
Dean dropped us off at the ice cream parlor. We looked at the menu until he left, when I asked if we were actually going to do that.
"Actually," Sam said, "I was thinking we could."
"Why?"
"I want to get to know you better."
It's been a year and I'm still loath to tell him anything. Does that make me a bad person? "No you don't."
"Yes I do."
"Okay. Confession: I hate haunted houses."
"Really? I mean... You live in one."
"Exactly."
"My turn?" He asked, and I nodded. "I'm one of those dicks Dean was talking about."
"Good luck with that one." I smiled, even though if he killed a spider for me, I would probably bow down and worship him.
"Real confession now, and we'll do whatever you want." Sam said.
"I can't think of anything." I said without pausing to think. The only things I can say are likely to lead to long conversations.
"I'll start then." We sat down. "When I decided to go to college, my dad told me that if I walked out that door, not to ever come back. But I left anyways. I hate this life, but I wouldn't give it up for anything. And once I pissed Dean off, and he told me that if I walked out the door, not to ever come back, and I left again. But unlike Dad, Dean actually tried, but some bitch ass angels screwed with the voicemail he left me, and I chose to trust a demon who I thought was different over my brother. And then Lucifer was raised."
"I guess you and Dean worked things out?" I asked, because I didn't know what else to say.
"Yeah, I guess."
"You probably think about that stuff often."
"All the time." He said softly. Then he looked up and said nonchalantly. "Your turn."
"I'm against the weird kinky shit, but not, you know, normal stuff. I'm only against that when it comes to me." I hope that suffices. I don't want to tell him a lot...
"I could have guessed that. That shouldn't count."
"Ice cream it is, then."
"Come on, Lexie. You can't be that bad."
"All in due time." Maybe.
"Let's just go."
I smiled. "Okay."
As we walked, he spoke up. "There are some things you don't know... They're really bad. I don't want to tell you. You'll run away screaming."
"Have I ever run away screaming from anything?"
"Well, no." He admitted, cracking a brief smile. "But this is... This is bad."
"You know you can tell me."
"That's what you say." That's what they all say. "But you'll regret it." Which is what they all do.
I looked over at him, sliding my hand into his. "You can tell me."
He didn't look at me. "I drank demon blood."
"You what?"
"Told you." He said, moving his hands to his pockets.
"You drank demon blood?" I repeated, calmer.
"For a long time." He bit his lip, looking away.
He drank demon blood? He drank demon blood? He was a demon blood addict? That's sick. He's got to know that's wrong.
"You drank demon blood." I repeated.
"Damn. I knew I shouldn't have said anything."
"No, no. I'm glad you did. Just... You are aware that that's... Wrong, right?"
"Yes, Lexie." He snapped.
"Why'd you do it?"
"The best way to get someone to open up to you is to open up to them."
"I meant the demon blood."
"Oh. Right. Duh." He said. "Well, Dean and I were told by angels that we had to kill Lilith. They said he had to, but he wasn't strong enough. I mean, he had just gotten back from Hell. Hell changed him... But anyways, I did it to get strong enough to kill Lilith-she's a demon, by the way. And therefore I broke the last seal and raised Satan. Oh, a seal-"
"I know what a seal is." I said.
"Right."
"Look at me."
"I don't want to."
"Well then. I'll try not to be offended."
"That's not what I meant." He looked at me.
"I know, but I got what I wanted."
He looked away.
"Sam, look at me."
"I don't want to."
"If I was going to leave, I would have already. Look at me."
"No." His voice cracked.
I grabbed his arm and stopped walking.
He looked down. "God, Lexie. Please don't do this. You're the only one who hasn't."
"What?"
"Tell me that you're disappointed. That you thought I was better than that. That if you didn't know me, you'd want to hunt me."
"Why would I say that?"
He shrugged. "Someone has told me all of those things at some point or another." I waited, and he said softly, "Dean did."
"He was just being honest. He was trying to help you."
"Whatever. Go ahead and 'be honest' too."
"Well," I said slowly, picking my words carefully. "I wasn't quite expecting that. Honestly, I would have put that above you. Drinking blood is kind of, you know.... Vampiric. But it's in the past. You're not getting rid of me that easy. It doesn't change anything. I still love you."
"Thanks." He said, walking again. "I love you too."
"Are you okay?"
"Are you going to realize I'm a monster and leave?"
"No. You're not a monster." I grabbed his hand, making him stop again.
Shifting his hand to where he was holding mine, he bowed his head, closing his eyes. "Can you... Can you say it again?"
I was completely overwhelmed with sympathy. My poor baby! I pulled my hand from his, and he looked up at me with the expression of an abandoned child and he dropped to his knees on the side of the highway. My heart shattered into a million pieces. I dropped down beside him, raising his head. "You're not a monster, Sam." I repeated firmly, kissing him.
He kissed me back, slowly and gently, as if savoring it.
I pulled back. "Come on, love. We're gonna get ran over." We stood and started walking again, hand in hand. "Does that mean it's my turn?"
"Sure."
"I guess you told me your darkest secret?"
"Well, I guess." He said. "The ball's in your court."
"I don't understand that reference." I said, utterly confused.
"It's a saying." He smiled. "It means it's your turn."
Oh. Right. Hesitating, I looked away. Should I? He told me all that stuff in hopes that I would open up. That stuff was kind of way worse than my unimportant shit. But maybe I shouldn't dump said shit on him at the moment. Instinctively, I grabbed the cross that hung from a ribbon around my neck.
"Is it symbolic?" He asked before I could say anything, probably trying to warm me up.
"What?"
"The cross."
"Aren't you supposed to be familiar with religions?"
"I know what religion it is. I meant... It."
I took it off and held it out to him. "See how it's made of nails? Those represent the nails used to nail Jesus to the cross. And then the wire holding it together? It represents the crown of thorns they put on his head. And the ribbon thing? The string? It represents the whips they hit him with."
"What's the other stuff?"
"A Beatles medallion my grandma gave to me. It was her dad's. And then treble cliffs. My grandma gave me the gold one, and my sister gave me the silver one. When she was, like, six."
"And you kept it all this time?"
I nodded. I didn't point out that that was obvious.
"You really know your religion, huh?"
"I like to think so."
"How do you know it's true?"
"We live in the same world. You see all the demons. You've seen Satan. You befriended an angel."
"Well, yeah. But God and stuff."
"They're all counterparts. Angels are to demons as God is to Satan. Heaven is to Hell as good is to evil."
"I always thought angels were merciful protectors. But most of them are just dicks."
"Don't lose faith. Those are just a portion of the actual number."
He nodded. "How did you know it was real before you knew about all that stuff?"
"Christianity is the only religion with a living God. I mean, who wants to pray to the sun or a little golden statue?"
"You pray to a piece of wood."
"First of all, we don't pray to the cross. The cross is symbolism of Jesus' taking our sins upon himself. And second, the cross is not a piece of wood. It's calvary. Be respectful."
"Sorry."
I decided to say it quickly, so that I wouldn't change my mind. "I've attempted suicide twice."
"What?" He stopped walking and grabbed my arm, dropping my necklace, which he had still been looking at.
I stopped to pick it up, and put it back in its rightful spot. I spoke quickly, my heart racing. "The first time was a few months before my dad died. My sister found me before I bled out, which I feel really bad about that. I mean, she was only twelve. I ruined her life. I can't blame her for hating me. I told everyone it was an accident. Either way, no one cared too terribly much-"
"Not even your dad?"
"No. He was different, but not that different."
"Your friends?"
"I didn't tell them. Well, my mom told Evan. He cared."
"Why didn't you tell anyone else?"
"I didn't want them to know. They'd think I was extraordinarily hypocritical."
"And the second time?"
"Just before my grandmother got sick. I threw up the pills and didn't tell anybody."
"Why?"
"I didn't want them to know."
"So nobody knows?"
"Not besides Evan. Well, one of my friends did."
"Did?"
"She hung herself." I was talking at a normal pace now.
"Before or after your second attempt?"
"Before."
"Was that one of the reasons?"
Kind of. "I'm not that selfish."
"Look at me."
"I really don't want to."
"Look at me, Lexie."
I turned and started walking.
He grabbed my arm, turning me around. "I love you, okay? You'll never be alone again, I swear to God. Don't ever do that again."
He shouldn't swear to God on something he has no control over. "I don't like being told what to do."
A smile played at his lips and he kissed me, but I pulled away. "Haunted house now."
He grinned as we started walking. "I'll protect you."