Andi King didn't know how to play nice, because quite frankly, she didn't like people. She was a loner and that was how she liked it. Especially with a sadistic demon dead set on destroying her and anyone she got close to.
But that all changes when...
"I'm caught beneath, There's nothing left to give."
Angels Fall by Breaking Ben
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I held my knees close to my chest as the water drizzled down my back. I wasn't sure what had come over me, but the moment I stepped into the guys' room and saw their bags and clothes thrown about, something in me clicked, and I fell. Everything that had happened in the last three days came crashing back to a sound mind, and I had no idea how to process it.
This was the torture Azazel had always promised me. This is what he thrived on. Watching me battle back and forth with myself, trying to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do, was all too sweet to him. It was a losing battle either way, but I was far too deep to walk away now.
If I didn't kill John, Dean died, and if I did, Dean would never forgive me. Either way, we would never end up on the same side, but for some reason, even though I knew it was the right thing to do, I couldn't walk away. I wasn't sure why, but I had a feeling it had something to do with the way he looked at me when he thought I was leaving once again or how concerned he was when I decided to go off on my own. It was familiar, and I wanted to hold onto that feeling, if only for a bit longer.
My hands went to my head as I pushed back the dark strands of hair. I gripped it tightly and pulled, tighter and tighter, as the tears welled in my eyes, waiting for the pain, but nothing other than a chill ran through my body, and I sat there. Quiet. Still. There was no thudding. No humming. No ear-piercing ring that always came before a wave of pain. Silence. It was more welcome than anything in my life, and I would have cried tears of joy right then and there if my phone hadn't rung from the kitchen.
It rang until my voicemail picked it up. I was in no hurry to explain it all to Bobby or even think about John. All I wanted to do was stare at the girl in the mirror. The former version of myself that I never thought I would see again.
My hair was no longer thinning, my cheeks were no longer sunken, and the whites of my eyes were no longer yellow or bloodshot. I was me again, and the slight pressure behind my eyes as I tried to hold back the tears was welcomed as a reminder.
I wasn't sure how long I had been standing there admiring every scar, pore, or knick on my face, but by the time I slipped into a long pajama shirt and grabbed a beer from the fridge, the boys were walking through the front door.
"You two look like shit," I said with a small smile as they kicked off their muddy boots. "Did you run all the way?"
"Walked," Dean growled.
My eyes widened, and I glanced up at Sam, hoping they were joking, but he pursed his lips and dropped his head.
"Why the hell didn't you call me? I would have come and got you."
