Carry On My Wayward Universe

Chapter 9

Amy:

Those two are the most adorable thing to ever happen, they're like every Nicholas Sparks novel ever. Except less cliche, which is also a good thing. Besides, what Nicholas Sparks book has a plot even remotely close to this?

I glanced up at Dean, wanting to see his reaction to his brother relaxed, and happy.

His face, instead of looking content with how things were, seemed somber.

"Dean...?" I asked, standing up as I looked at him and he glanced over at me, "Did she tell you what you heard?" he asked, somewhat nervously which made me slightly anxious. "No, she kind of tripped and didn't have a chance to relay the conversation." I explained, my smile starting to fade.

Damn, I knew that face. It's the "There's something important I need to say but I don't want to ruin anything so I'm not going to say it." Dean face. It's happened too many times to count, and whenever it happened it always came back to bite somebody (or everybody) in the ass.

"It's nothing." He assured me, not able to meet my eyes and I sighed. "Sure it is. Sam you'd better take care of Amy, I'm going to my room." "Ash." Amy called, walking away but I needed some time alone.

There was always that voice in my head saying how nobody really trusted me, and being confident? Sure. There's a line from a song: "I feel like the worst so I always act like the best." and that just about sums up my personality.

The idea of having to go back to my real life seemed awful compared to staying here. Amy seemed to have everything figured out, and here I was with absolutely no clue what I was even doing. I majored in English but what will I do with that?

Here though, I had three amazing people, and two of them weren't telling me something. In Amy's case, it's forgivable, she tripped and forgot to tell whatever the hell the two boys were talking about. Dean, I was ticked off at.

Yes, it seemed stupid, but whenever somebody says "Oh it's nothing." "Don't worry about it." "I don't want to concern you." Or anything along those lines it makes me feel inadequate. I asked what's wrong, what was happening, I care. There are very few people I'm close to, and I love being there for them, I would drag myself through hell and back for them.

"Ashley." Dean said from the doorway around five minutes after I had sprawled out on the bed, trying to drown myself in my pillow. "Yes?" I asked, propping myself up on my elbows, "Or is it still nothing?"

He walked over and sat on the edge of the bed. "Sorry, guess I should have told you." "Hm." I mused, turning so I was lying on my back looking up at the ceiling.

"Sam wants to try and find a way to send you back...even if you don't want to we need to option to get you two out of here. If there was another set of deaths on our hands..." He started and I looked at him, "Do you want to send us away?"

Blunt, and straight to the point.

Nearly all of my life I've had people weave around my questions, so yeah I'm slightly to the point. Sue me.

"What?" he asked, processing the question and I sat up looking straight into his green eyes that were still making my stomach twist in knots, but I had to keep my cool. If I lost it now things would go nowhere but in a downhill slope. "If any of us do find a way to get us back to where we came from, would you want to send us away?" "Let's just cross that bridge when we get there, alright?" he asked, and I sighed.

Avoiding questions seemed to be this man's specialty.

"Fine. I need to go for a minute." I said, pulling on my jacket while grabbing the keys to the spare car. "Where?" "Anywhere." I replied, running a hand through my short hair before heading out.

I heard some laughing coming from Sam's room as he helped with Amy's foot. At least things were good with her.

A good/bad habit I have is drawing out when things get too complicated, too much. Long drives, drinking, (okay I admit it, I did it a little bit when I was a teenager, but what kid hasn't had a sip before they're twenty-one?) anything to clear my head even if just for a little bit.

"Code Purple." I said poking my head into her room before giving her a wave and leaving.

Ah yes, another little tradition we have together. If you need some time alone we call it a Code Purple, there are a bunch of others and even I lose track of them occasionally.

Anyhow, I hopped into the spare car and went out driving with an alternative station blasting so loud it probably shook the cracking pavement of the back roads as I drove. I glanced down at my arms and tried to ignore the scars on my wrists, high school was murder putting it lightly and things hadn't been easy. I stopped around three years ago.

Finally, when I came back I think I had calmed down a little bit and stretched slightly. "I'm back." I yelled, and there was no reply. Guess everybody was sleep. Smart. I thought, heading back into my room as I crawled underneath the covers. This had certainly been an interesting day.