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...
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I sat under the running water for what felt like forever, my wet clothes still clinging to my shivering body. I didn't have the energy to remove them, let alone get up and out as the water started to run cool.
I was broken.
My head throbbed. My chest was heavy. My muscles ached. There wasn't a part of my body that still felt real, and despite my desperate attempt to think of nothing, my mind kept wandering to a place I wished I could forget.
The headlights ripping towards me.
The adrenaline thumping in my chest as I dove into the icy water.
The sound of my bike being crushed only feet away from me.
The emptiness that filled me as I floated.
The lack of relief as Dean yanked me out of the water and the anger that followed as he tried to beg me to be okay as he tried to shake me out of my catatonic state.
I was numb. To everything. To everyone. Even Dean. Numb to the way he held me on the edge of the water and pushed the wet strands of hair off my face as I shivered. To the way he said my name as he tried to snap me out of the haze I found myself in as I watched Sam's flashlight search over the mess. Even to the warmth as he pulled off my waterlogged jacket and wrapped his own around me.
I didn't want to be touched, but I didn't even have the energy to push his tense arms away from me. I wanted to scream. I wanted to hit something. Someone. I wanted to be alone with the rage that broiled in my chest, but the words never formed, and I stood there, watching Sam pick through what was left of my father's motorcycle. I stood there as Dean slipped his warm hands up underneath the back of my shirt in a desperate attempt to warm my nearly hypothermic body.
It was amazing how someone who thought they were brave and strong could crumble in the blink of an eye. Or, in my case, the amount of time it took to jump out of the way.
The thought of it made me sick.
Or maybe it was the thoughts running through my head that made me realize how sick I was.
Not physically, like I had been before, but in the head. I had to be.
Why else would I regret leading the truck away from the house?
For a moment, standing there in Dean's arms as Cassie watched from the road above, I almost wished I had let her die. Not because I wanted to feel the comfort in his embrace, but because I had just lost one of the last pieces of my family because I chose to help Dean save her life.
