Carry On My Wayward Universe

Chapter 2

  Amy:

"Please don't go all Becky," Ashley mutters, looking at me with sympathy. "I have never gone all Becky," I insist, leaning back in my seat. "You did at convention." Oh thanks for reminding me. "Convention was different. You remember her, she was obnoxious!" I argue, ignoring the chuckle from the front seat. "All she said was that your shirt was stupid and promoted bestiality!" Ashley says, throwing her hands up. "She was an outrageous, fake fan. She was only there because Jared Padalecki is a babe! She knew nothing about the show, she was crazier than I am!" I exclaim. "Amy, sweetheart, no one is crazier than you are," she sighs, patting my knee and laughing. "Oh I know, but she was trying," I laugh.

"Are you nervous?" I ask her, playing with the tie on my almost too short shorts. "No, but it looks like you are," she says. "What was the spell for anyway?" Sam blurts out of no where. "Nothing, the spell was for nothing," I quickly say before Ashley can tell the truth. "Doesn't look like nothing, you look really shaken up," Sam says, seeming more and more concerned. "Ashley, I thought that was going to make Tyler show up at the door. I miss him," I sigh, looking at Ashley instead of Sam. "He's getting married next month, he's not dead, you should have gone to see him," she encourages as I start crying.

"Alright, home sweet home," Dean says as we pull up outside of the bunker. Where there is snow on the ground. Snow! "Ashley looks like she'll be fine but you might not make it," Sam laughs, handing me on of the plaid shirts from under the seat. I put my arms through the sleeves and open the door, drawing the shirt around me. It's warm from where the heater was and my red shorts aren't covering much of my legs so I am freezing. "I'm not wearing shoes," I groan as Ash laughs at me. "Next time, wear better pajamas," Dean says, shutting his door. "You see Ash, this is why I don't like him," I say, pushing her as I work up the courage to step out of the car. I literally hate the cold. "Oh for God's sake Dean," Sam groans, picking me up out of the car and adjusting me so I am being held all bridal style. He shuts the door with my feet and I glare at my giggling best friend.

"Should I start singing like in third grade or hold off on it?" Ashley asks as Sam sets me down. "Why don't you hold off?" I ask, glaring. "It's late, we should all get some sleep. We'll talk in the morning about getting you back," Sam sighs. "I don't want to go back," I say, shaking my head. "That's ridiculous," Dean says. "The love of my life is getting married next month, my mother just died from Cancer, my little brother hates me and my father is most likely at the local bar trying to drown in his own tears and whiskey. Sound familiar? Unlike your relationship with your brother, mine can't be fixed and my dad isn't selling his soul anytime soon. He doesn't care enough for that, so is that ridiculous? I don't want to be in a world where random people know me as the girl the got dumped two months before her boyfriends wedding because she was too stupid to realize he was cheating. I came here with the one person who has never made be feel hopeless so that timeline means absolutely nothing," I rant.

"We know where the guest bedrooms are, we can show ourselves the way," Ash says, nodding to the boys. "Do you want me to stay with you?" Ash asks, putting her hands on my shoulders when we reach the room I'm going to be staying in. "No, I think I'll be okay. Thanks," I say. She gives me a tight hug. "I'll be right next door," she says. I nod and go into my room.

I sit down on the bed and put my head in my hands, letting my tears mix with the strands of long hair that are hanging around my face. "What am I doing?" I demand, pulling on my hair as I sit up and sweep it back. The red curls always fall back into place. I remember being a child and trying to tug them straight before deciding that the curls were there to stay. Now they are a constant mess that contrasts with my bright green eyes but blends with my freckles.

I lay down to try and get some sleep and wake up gasping. I don't remember any of the nightmare, as usual, but still feel the pure terror coursing through my veins. I put my hands up to my face and find my cheeks soaked with tears. "Water," I sigh. Thinking aloud has always helped.

"Can't sleep?" Sam asks when I come into the kitchen. "You look like you had the same problem," I say, noting his messy hair. "Yeah, you want to go first?" He asks, offering me a beer. I graciously take it from him. "I wish I could tell you but I fall asleep and then wake up with no memory of the nightmares but this awful feeling of terror is definitely there," I say, looking down at the counter. "I just dream of Jessica and hell," Sam laughs. His laugh sounds tired and forced. When I look up at him, his eyes are red from crying and I am surprised I didn't notice it before. "Studies show that two people who have frequent sleep issues can actually help each other by simply being there," I joke, making it sound super serious. "Seriously?" He asks. I tilt his face up so he is looking at me and not his beer bottle. "No, that's just how great I am at lying. Seriously though. I wouldn't mind company and Ash always sleeps like a rock, a rock that you don't want to wake up," I say. "Alright but my bed has been broken in," he laughs, leading me down the hall. "I bet it has," I say, wiggling my eyebrows which earns me a laugh and an affectionate eye roll.

He lays down and opens his arms, waiting for me. "This is a dream isn't it?" I ask as I ignore his arms and lay beside him. "I swear to god I will kill you and Ashley if I wake up chained again," Sam says, laughing despite sounding worried. "Promise not to," I say, rolling away from him. "Thank you," Sam whispers. "For what?" "For simply being there," he says with a yawn. "It's what I'm good at."