Fighting Through It All [Dean Winchester fanfic] #Wattys2015

Chapter Four

A.N. The awesome new cover you see for this book was not made by me. It was made by the magnificent Jazzysnapz, who honestly, if you're looking for a book cover and she's taking requests: jump for the offer. Kill people for it. Okay, maybe not kill, but extreme measures should be taken. She was so quick with making my cover, I was astounded. She floored me with her service. So I just thought I'd let everyone know.

We stare at the silver stake in the crystal bowl, with a knife resting beside it. I stand in the centre of Sam and Dean, all of us silent. All that's left now is to dip the stake in human blood. Dean steps up first, but I hold my hand out to his chest.
"What are you doing?" He asks, giving me an incredulous look.
"I'm gonna use my blood," I state simply. He twists his mouth up and shakes his head.
"Nah, I don't think so," He replies. When he tries to step forward again, I swiftly step in front of him, gripping his arm tightly.
"I'm making a decision for myself, Dean. Isn't that what you wanted?" I ask through clenched teeth. He gives me a blank stare, squinting his eyes. He nods, steps backward, and I huff. Spinning around, I grab the blade, and cut my palm. I squeeze my hand into a fist, a slight stinging feeling filling my hand. My face is blank as the blood drips into bowl. When the appropriate amount is in it, I wrap my hand in a hand towel, and begin saying the spell that will turn the stake into a weapon.

With the newly weapon forged, we begin to suit up. Sam and Dean head back to their own rooms to get ready, while I decide to change my clothes. I change into dark wash jeans, an activewear black tank top, and the leather jacket that the Boyd's picked out for me. It hugs my body tightly, but not uncomfortably. For right now, I leave it unzipped, and I put my hair up in a high ponytail. I then make my way back out to the parking lot, where Sam and Dean are digging through their trunk. I stand by, arms at my side, chin held high. My back is as straight and stiff as a board, and I do not speak while the boys mutter to each other, not acknowledging my presence. It's not until they slam the trunk shut that they say "Let's go" and we all get into the Impala.

We go over the game plan as we drive, me listening and not adding anything. I memorize my part, running it over again and again in my head, a million times. Dean will get out of the car, and Sam will get in the driver's seat a couple hundred yards away from the bridge. I'll sneak into the woods, and manage to get myself next to the bridge, but out of sight. If possible, I'm to creep along the outside of the bridge to get closer. When Sam agrees to dance, that's when Dean and I will jump out. Dean will shoot at the Dames Blanches with silver billets, hopefully slowing it down, while Sam gets out of the way. With her slowed down, I'll jump out and Stan the Dames Blanches in her heart, killing her.

Besides us going over the plan, and the soft drum of music through the car, it's silent. Not a person says a word more than needed, either from tension between us all or just no one having anything worth saying. In all honesty, I have a million things that are worth say. However, I remain silent. Partly because I never speak unless spoken to, and partly because it doesn't seem like the right time. We're about to go into a battle, and we can't let emotions get in the way.

We arrive at the scene and pull to a stop, all of us letting out a long sigh. I get out with the rest of the guys, and stand in a waiting position to receive the signal to go. I'm hand my on gun loaded with silver bullets, as well as a silver knife to go along with it. Silver its self won't kill a Dames Blanches. However, we're hoping that it will slow it down.

All geared up, we split up. Sam gets in his car, and I dart into the woods. I creep silently among the trees, moving at a light hunters tread towards the bridge. When I arrive, I search for a way to get to the outside edge of the bridge. I notice a small piece of metal along the edge, only just big enough for me to walk across, and sturdy enough that it will hold me.