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Wash Away My Sins - Chapter Nine - Supernatural
Title: Wash Away My Sins
Authors: Aratocriel and Jade Blood
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Sam, Dean/OFC, Sam/OFC, OC!villains
Disclaimer: Supernatural and it's characters belong to Kripke and the CW. Nina belongs to Aratocriel, and Janis belongs to me (Jade), so no using them without our permission. We make no profits from this and are just having fun!
Summary: A year after the events of "Unity in Duality", Janis and Nina are a bit savvier regarding the world of the paranormal, but the resurgence of old enemies has left them needing the help of the Winchesters once more.
Previous Chapters: 1 : 2 : 3 : 4 : 5 : 6 : 7 : 8
Chapter Nine
“Tell me again,” Janis sighed as she turned from the front window for the millionth time, “exactly what Sam said.”
Nina sighed audibly back at her, turning to face Janis. "He said that they were leaving Codi's shop and that it was definitely the demons, like we needed that reassurance. He said the scene was very bloody and was glad we didn't come along. They are heading to Laura’s house now and will tell us more when they come back." Nina shrugged. "That's it. He sounded hurried, and I suppose they were trying to go over some kind of a plan or something. That that was nearly forty-five minutes ago…" She trailed off, fixing Janis with a worried stare.
“Yeah, I know,” Janis replied, returning to the window again. “I’ve been counting, too.” She paused and pressed her hands to the pane when she saw a black shape moving in closer, one that could easily be an Impala. At first, she thought it had to be her worried mind concocting sights that weren’t there, but when it hurled its way into the driveway with a screech of tires, she knew it was them. “Oh, thank God. Nina…”
Nina spun towards the door and flung it open, just as quickly leaping out of the way of the brothers as they stormed into the house.
"Dean, that was completely reckless!" Sam roared at his brother, causing Nina to lift both eyebrows as she fixed the salt after shutting the door, then stepped over beside Janis. “I can understand wanting to go after them with what they’ve done, what they most likely will do, but pushing me out of the way? Telling me to run? Three against one, Dean! That is not fighting smart.”
Janis noted that they were both cut and bruised, but Dean certainly looked more worse for the wear than Sam did. She was further horrified by his tirade, proving that some unnecessary risks were taken.
“Is that why you told us to stay behind?” Janis asked softly. “So that you could use yourselves as bait?”
“You don’t understand, Janis,” Dean told her at once, then turned his attention back on Sam. “I wanted you out of there because they were ganging up on you, and history is not going to repeat itself, you understand me?”
Sam glanced at the girls, realizing at once he couldn’t fully speak his mind in front of them, and began striding toward the kitchen. He grabbed Dean’s jacket on his way by in an attempt to drag him along but was swatted away.
“This isn’t over,” Sam snarled at him and gestured sharply for him to follow. Dean shot a glance at the girls before going along.
When they got to the far end of the house, Sam spun on him. “Ever since you made that deal, it’s like you have a death wish. What, a year’s not soon enough? Hell’s already on your heels. What more do you want?”
“I want you to get off my damn back!” Dean roared. “Is this the thanks I get? Huh? You’re ungrateful, Sam. You are.”
“I don’t want to be grateful!” Sam bellowed in return, then forced himself to lower his voice. “Not for a supposed gift I never wanted. I never asked for anything from you except for you to be my brother. I never wanted you to die for me. If I’ve said it once…” He laughed helplessly, running his hands down his face before continuing. “This is what dad did to you, and for some bizarre reason, you saw fit to do it to me. But you know what? At least I got you angry. I proved you’re feeling something.”
Dean glared, his jaw ticking as he pushed that anger back down. He didn’t want to unload on Sam, and it was taking every ounce of restraint he had not to. Instead, he growled a warning. “You were right to do this out of earshot of them. Say whatever you want to me, but Janis better not get wind of this.”
“Last wish of a dying man?” Sam asked, and his voice was thin as he tried to contain further emotion, his rage dissolving into choked sorrow.
“If you have to make bitchy, sarcastic jokes, then fine,” Dean breathed with a shrug. “I’ve made enough of them about it myself. But Janis can’t handle knowing this. This isn’t about you and me right now, okay? Keep it together.”
"Um, boys? Is everything alright?" Nina asked from the door of the kitchen, having followed after them shortly after they stormed into it.
"It's nothing," Dean muttered, pushing past Nina and moving back into the living room.
"Sammy? Honey, come with me." Nina took his hand and tugged him behind her. "I have a first aid kit in my bathroom. We need to get your cuts cleaned up."
Sam followed, unable to shake the sadness and anger that seemed to have etched their way into his features. After they entered the bathroom, he leaned back against the sink and asked, “How much of that did you hear?”
"Probably more than I was supposed to," Nina answered, pulling her first aid kit out and leading Sam back into her bedroom, motioning for him to sit while she opened the kit and pulled out some anti-bacterial wipes. "Sammy, what's going on?"
He flopped down and shook his head, not knowing what to say. If he told Nina, it would get back to Janis, and he would have broken his promise. But it was such a weight. He didn’t want to carry it alone anymore. Taking on the weight of the world was something he’d always chastised Dean for. Doing so himself could only serve to make him a hypocrite, but that hardly made anything he was about to say justifiable.
“It can’t leave this room,” he said with a hard look.
"Of course Sam," Nina replied softly, taking his hand in hers and giving it a squeeze before turning her attention to the cuts on his face.
Sam winced minutely when the sting of her ministrations met the first cut on his cheek. “About a month ago, I…” He sighed in frustration, knowing the story was far too long and winding to make much sense to her, but he would have to try. “Do you remember the Yellow-Eyed Demon?”
"Yeah, I do. I've actually found mention of him in a few of my sources," Nina nodded, satisfied with the cleanliness of his first cut and moving to the next. "He make another appearance?"
“Something like that,” Sam replied, trying to stay still as she worked. “He took me and several others with powers like mine to a ghost town and made us fight to the death. Sounds almost ridiculous when you say it like that. But it happened, and I… wasn’t the winner.” He pulled her hands from his face to still her for a moment. “I died. I wouldn’t be alive right now if Dean hadn’t… done what he did.”
The small wipe in Nina's hand fell to the bed as her eyes widened. "Sammy, you died?" She shook her head. "There's no power on earth that can bring someone back…" She trailed off, her eyes jerking back to his. "Dean saved you? Oh my God, Sam, did he… did he make a deal?" Her mind reeled through the files of information she had read on Crossroad Demons and the deals they made, none of which ever turned out well.
“Then you did hear that,” he muttered. “Yeah. His soul in exchange for my life. Usually they give ten years. He got one. We’re down to eleven months now and counting, and I still don’t know of any way to get him out of it. Part of the terms were if I save Dean, I drop dead. So everything I suggest is immediately shot down. Bobby’s looking like crazy, and there’s just… nothing. Not yet, anyway.”
"Sammy you've got Bobby on your side, you can't lose," Nina offered him a brave smile. "Honey I can't believe you've been carrying this around; it felt like something was off between you two, but I couldn't put my finger on it."
“He’s different since it happened,” Sam agreed. “Then again, I have been, too. And that crap he pulled today…” Sam laid back on her bed with a weary noise. “I can’t make him care about his own life, Nina. He basically told me that he wants it to be over. It’s like he’s looking forward to it.”
Nina stared at him in silence, hardly able to believe what she was being told. "I… I'm not sure what to say." She scooted up onto the bed next to him, pulling his head into her lap and running her hands gently down the unscathed parts of his cheeks. "I know Dean's had a hard life, both of you have, but I never thought he'd bring death down on himself."
“It’s a lot harder than you think,” Sam whispered, turning to press his face into her thigh. “Maybe I’m the one who doesn’t appreciate how much. I like to say it’s worth it, and I still believe it is. Saving people, hunting evil. Dean told me once that he didn’t think it was fair, that our family had to make so many sacrifices while everyone else gets a normal, comfortable life, and I was the first to say that I wouldn’t change that.” He’d never felt more vulnerable in his life than he felt now, but he also didn’t want to stop until it was all out. “Maybe now I would. For Dean.”
"Do you honestly believe that pulling Dean away from hunting now would help anything?" Nina asked softly, her fingers weaving a gentle path through his shaggy hair. "I don't. Yes, your family has made so many sacrifices, but think of all the lives you've saved because of those sacrifices. People who wouldn't be alive without what you and your brother did." Nina was silent for a moment before she continued. "It isn't fair, what some people have to give up, but you and your brother are heroes, regardless of how many people know. And you really aren't that different from someone in the military, Sammy. They give up their lives to protect ours, just like you're doing. Just like Dean is doing."
“To turn back now wouldn’t change anything, no,” Sam agreed. “But… I don’t know what I think.” He sat up, looking more tired by the moment. “I think we’ve got time, and I’m concentrating on that. Time to turn this around.”
"I believe in you, Sammy, as cheesy as that sounds." Nina smiled at him. "I'll do some research too, see if I can't dig anything up. The more eyes looking the better. Just try for your brothers sake not to ride him so hard. I realize it's upsetting when he seemingly throws his life away, but you two need to spend the time you have as brothers and friends, not arguing about something that is already done."
“I try. But you know he doesn’t make it easy.” It was an inopportune moment for a flashback, but he had one. To nearly a year ago, when everything Dean said threatened to set Nina on a path of destruction. “He’s the lucky one, you know? He gets to be as fucked up as he wants to, especially now because he feels like he’s given himself an excuse. And I get to be the one left holding the bag.” Then came the perfunctory brave smile, the one he was all too used to flashing. “Sorry. I think that’s what’s called a floodgate that you opened.”
"It's alright; I'm excellent swimmer." Nina gave him a crooked smirk. "Besides, you can't be expected to hold all this in on your own. That's too much of a burden to carry." She picked up the small tube of Neosporin and began applying it to the clean cuts on Sam's face. "I know you and your brother have to leave again after this is all over," she said softly, the words harder to say then she thought they would be. "But you do have my phone number. Keep in touch with me, call me whenever you need to, hell Sam, let me come to your rescue once, huh?"
Sam smiled and huffed a laugh at this, mostly at what a foreign concept it was and somewhat at how nice it sounded. “I’ll call,” he replied simply, growing quiet as Nina continued dabbing at the small cuts he’d received. It felt like being pampered, which had both wrong and right sensations that accompanied this. He watched her closely behind a veil of stillness, how attentive she was to every nick. His jaw clenched as something stirred in him, something he’d thought buried, and he lunged forward, catching her lips with his own.
A small squeak of surprise escaped from Nina as Sam's lips pressed hard against her, though the shock only lasted a moment before she melted into him, feeling his arms take her in a secure embrace. They finally drew back, both needing air, Nina grinning from ear to ear. "Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?"
That would be a complicated answer, so he settled on something more straightforward. “It was overdue.”
* * * * *
“So are you going to tell me why your cuts are deeper and more numerous than your brother’s?” Janis asked as she applied a cotton swab with rubbing alcohol to Dean’s wounds. Luckily, none were fatal, but her assessment of the damage in relation to Sam was no less correct.
Dean reclined on the sofa, his head resting on the arm of it as Janis disinfected the superficial cuts on his bare chest. His ruined shirt was wadded up in his fist, and his face was deceivingly blank. She had already wiped away the excess blood with a washcloth and had been relieved to see there was more blood than actual injury. When given a chance to get a closer look at the marks left on him, they appeared disturbingly like claw marks, though they weren’t quite deep enough for that. She could only imagine it must have been someone’s fingernails. There was a cut on his bicep that was a lot nastier, and she had a curved needle and thread beside her, praying he would stop her and just take the scar first.
Silence spread out as Janis tossed the bloodied swab in the trash. “Not answering, I see.”
She was glared at for her trouble. “Don’t feel much like talking.”
“That’s a shame, isn’t it?” Janis asked and turned to the gash on his arm, cleaning this more meticulously and making him wince. “Because you’re going to.”
“What is this?” he growled. “You gonna torture me?”
Janis paused with a longsuffering sigh and kissed his temple. “No, it would just give me some peace of mind to know what happened.”
That simple request was more effective than authentic torture would have been. “We got overrun. I didn’t think they’d be waiting there for us.”
“Well, if Laura walked up to Nina in the store,” Janis mused aloud, running a damp washcloth over his arm, “then she must have been setting us up for this. All but screaming, ‘come find me!’ Chances are it was a trap all along.”
“Thanks,” Dean grimaced. “Always appreciate a vote of confidence like that.”
“Did I say you were stupid?” Janis asked, pausing in her work to stare at him, waiting until he returned the look to continue. “No, I didn’t. You did what it’s in your instincts to do. You struck back at them. I wanted you to. I’m just saying that in hindsight, which is always an infuriating 20/20, we should have thought about it more carefully rather than acting spontaneously. We let them get to us, and that was a mistake.”
It didn’t surprise her to see that his eyes were steely and brimming with unspoken fury. He was still angry and wanted someone to direct it toward. Whatever he and Sam had argued about, it must have been a doozy.
“Do you want me to sew that up?” she asked softly, nodding toward the open cut.
“You better,” Dean grunted, turning away again.
Janis shut her eyes wearily, picked up a lighter that had been among her emergency supplies, and flicked the flame to life. She waved the needle back and forth through the heat to sterilize it, chewing her lip nervously as she let the fire die with a click. The needle’s point hovered just over his skin, then Janis drew away with a sigh that was forceful enough to resemble a gasp.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she laughed. “If it was anyone else, I don’t think it would bother me as much.”
“Hand it here,” Dean muttered with irritation, flicking his fingers at her as he sat up. “I’ll do it myself.”
“No,” Janis snapped, pulling her arm out of his reach. “Dean… if it’s between me helping you, and you doing it yourself, then I’ll help. Jesus.”
She wasn’t sure what had gotten into him, but she didn’t hesitate this time to push the needle through his skin and pull the thread through the other side. Dean groaned grabbing the half-drained beer he’d brought into the living room with him and finishing the rest hurriedly. Janis’s eyes reddened, and though it was a demanding test for her compassion, she ignored the affect his pain was having on the both of them. She sewed and cleaned carefully until the deed was done, the stitches surprisingly straight even to her own, fairly untrained eye.
“Better?” she asked as coldly as she could muster, wanting to turn away before an eye spilled or lip trembled.
Yet somehow the callousness had fallen from him. She admitted that she’d not been watching his face as she worked, and she couldn’t say what it was that had made it leave. Perhaps he was just too drained to hold onto his negativity, which she could understand. Perhaps the pain was cathartic to him, a possibility that terrified her. Either way, he glanced at the patched wound and nodded approvingly, then dipped in close for a kiss, his tongue glancing hers when she opened her mouth to gasp.
When he pulled away, it was with a soft, moist noise and a smile. “Perfect, babe.”
To Be Continued...
Title: Wash Away My Sins
Authors: Aratocriel and Jade Blood
Rating: PG-13
Characters/Pairings: Dean, Sam, Dean/OFC, Sam/OFC, OC!villains
Disclaimer: Supernatural and it's characters belong to Kripke and the CW. Nina belongs to Aratocriel, and Janis belongs to me (Jade), so no using them without our permission. We make no profits from this and are just having fun!
Summary: A year after the events of "Unity in Duality", Janis and Nina are a bit savvier regarding the world of the paranormal, but the resurgence of old enemies has left them needing the help of the Winchesters once more.
Previous Chapters: 1 : 2 : 3 : 4 : 5 : 6 : 7 : 8
Chapter Nine
“Tell me again,” Janis sighed as she turned from the front window for the millionth time, “exactly what Sam said.”
Nina sighed audibly back at her, turning to face Janis. "He said that they were leaving Codi's shop and that it was definitely the demons, like we needed that reassurance. He said the scene was very bloody and was glad we didn't come along. They are heading to Laura’s house now and will tell us more when they come back." Nina shrugged. "That's it. He sounded hurried, and I suppose they were trying to go over some kind of a plan or something. That that was nearly forty-five minutes ago…" She trailed off, fixing Janis with a worried stare.
“Yeah, I know,” Janis replied, returning to the window again. “I’ve been counting, too.” She paused and pressed her hands to the pane when she saw a black shape moving in closer, one that could easily be an Impala. At first, she thought it had to be her worried mind concocting sights that weren’t there, but when it hurled its way into the driveway with a screech of tires, she knew it was them. “Oh, thank God. Nina…”
Nina spun towards the door and flung it open, just as quickly leaping out of the way of the brothers as they stormed into the house.
"Dean, that was completely reckless!" Sam roared at his brother, causing Nina to lift both eyebrows as she fixed the salt after shutting the door, then stepped over beside Janis. “I can understand wanting to go after them with what they’ve done, what they most likely will do, but pushing me out of the way? Telling me to run? Three against one, Dean! That is not fighting smart.”
Janis noted that they were both cut and bruised, but Dean certainly looked more worse for the wear than Sam did. She was further horrified by his tirade, proving that some unnecessary risks were taken.
“Is that why you told us to stay behind?” Janis asked softly. “So that you could use yourselves as bait?”
“You don’t understand, Janis,” Dean told her at once, then turned his attention back on Sam. “I wanted you out of there because they were ganging up on you, and history is not going to repeat itself, you understand me?”
Sam glanced at the girls, realizing at once he couldn’t fully speak his mind in front of them, and began striding toward the kitchen. He grabbed Dean’s jacket on his way by in an attempt to drag him along but was swatted away.
“This isn’t over,” Sam snarled at him and gestured sharply for him to follow. Dean shot a glance at the girls before going along.
When they got to the far end of the house, Sam spun on him. “Ever since you made that deal, it’s like you have a death wish. What, a year’s not soon enough? Hell’s already on your heels. What more do you want?”
“I want you to get off my damn back!” Dean roared. “Is this the thanks I get? Huh? You’re ungrateful, Sam. You are.”
“I don’t want to be grateful!” Sam bellowed in return, then forced himself to lower his voice. “Not for a supposed gift I never wanted. I never asked for anything from you except for you to be my brother. I never wanted you to die for me. If I’ve said it once…” He laughed helplessly, running his hands down his face before continuing. “This is what dad did to you, and for some bizarre reason, you saw fit to do it to me. But you know what? At least I got you angry. I proved you’re feeling something.”
Dean glared, his jaw ticking as he pushed that anger back down. He didn’t want to unload on Sam, and it was taking every ounce of restraint he had not to. Instead, he growled a warning. “You were right to do this out of earshot of them. Say whatever you want to me, but Janis better not get wind of this.”
“Last wish of a dying man?” Sam asked, and his voice was thin as he tried to contain further emotion, his rage dissolving into choked sorrow.
“If you have to make bitchy, sarcastic jokes, then fine,” Dean breathed with a shrug. “I’ve made enough of them about it myself. But Janis can’t handle knowing this. This isn’t about you and me right now, okay? Keep it together.”
"Um, boys? Is everything alright?" Nina asked from the door of the kitchen, having followed after them shortly after they stormed into it.
"It's nothing," Dean muttered, pushing past Nina and moving back into the living room.
"Sammy? Honey, come with me." Nina took his hand and tugged him behind her. "I have a first aid kit in my bathroom. We need to get your cuts cleaned up."
Sam followed, unable to shake the sadness and anger that seemed to have etched their way into his features. After they entered the bathroom, he leaned back against the sink and asked, “How much of that did you hear?”
"Probably more than I was supposed to," Nina answered, pulling her first aid kit out and leading Sam back into her bedroom, motioning for him to sit while she opened the kit and pulled out some anti-bacterial wipes. "Sammy, what's going on?"
He flopped down and shook his head, not knowing what to say. If he told Nina, it would get back to Janis, and he would have broken his promise. But it was such a weight. He didn’t want to carry it alone anymore. Taking on the weight of the world was something he’d always chastised Dean for. Doing so himself could only serve to make him a hypocrite, but that hardly made anything he was about to say justifiable.
“It can’t leave this room,” he said with a hard look.
"Of course Sam," Nina replied softly, taking his hand in hers and giving it a squeeze before turning her attention to the cuts on his face.
Sam winced minutely when the sting of her ministrations met the first cut on his cheek. “About a month ago, I…” He sighed in frustration, knowing the story was far too long and winding to make much sense to her, but he would have to try. “Do you remember the Yellow-Eyed Demon?”
"Yeah, I do. I've actually found mention of him in a few of my sources," Nina nodded, satisfied with the cleanliness of his first cut and moving to the next. "He make another appearance?"
“Something like that,” Sam replied, trying to stay still as she worked. “He took me and several others with powers like mine to a ghost town and made us fight to the death. Sounds almost ridiculous when you say it like that. But it happened, and I… wasn’t the winner.” He pulled her hands from his face to still her for a moment. “I died. I wouldn’t be alive right now if Dean hadn’t… done what he did.”
The small wipe in Nina's hand fell to the bed as her eyes widened. "Sammy, you died?" She shook her head. "There's no power on earth that can bring someone back…" She trailed off, her eyes jerking back to his. "Dean saved you? Oh my God, Sam, did he… did he make a deal?" Her mind reeled through the files of information she had read on Crossroad Demons and the deals they made, none of which ever turned out well.
“Then you did hear that,” he muttered. “Yeah. His soul in exchange for my life. Usually they give ten years. He got one. We’re down to eleven months now and counting, and I still don’t know of any way to get him out of it. Part of the terms were if I save Dean, I drop dead. So everything I suggest is immediately shot down. Bobby’s looking like crazy, and there’s just… nothing. Not yet, anyway.”
"Sammy you've got Bobby on your side, you can't lose," Nina offered him a brave smile. "Honey I can't believe you've been carrying this around; it felt like something was off between you two, but I couldn't put my finger on it."
“He’s different since it happened,” Sam agreed. “Then again, I have been, too. And that crap he pulled today…” Sam laid back on her bed with a weary noise. “I can’t make him care about his own life, Nina. He basically told me that he wants it to be over. It’s like he’s looking forward to it.”
Nina stared at him in silence, hardly able to believe what she was being told. "I… I'm not sure what to say." She scooted up onto the bed next to him, pulling his head into her lap and running her hands gently down the unscathed parts of his cheeks. "I know Dean's had a hard life, both of you have, but I never thought he'd bring death down on himself."
“It’s a lot harder than you think,” Sam whispered, turning to press his face into her thigh. “Maybe I’m the one who doesn’t appreciate how much. I like to say it’s worth it, and I still believe it is. Saving people, hunting evil. Dean told me once that he didn’t think it was fair, that our family had to make so many sacrifices while everyone else gets a normal, comfortable life, and I was the first to say that I wouldn’t change that.” He’d never felt more vulnerable in his life than he felt now, but he also didn’t want to stop until it was all out. “Maybe now I would. For Dean.”
"Do you honestly believe that pulling Dean away from hunting now would help anything?" Nina asked softly, her fingers weaving a gentle path through his shaggy hair. "I don't. Yes, your family has made so many sacrifices, but think of all the lives you've saved because of those sacrifices. People who wouldn't be alive without what you and your brother did." Nina was silent for a moment before she continued. "It isn't fair, what some people have to give up, but you and your brother are heroes, regardless of how many people know. And you really aren't that different from someone in the military, Sammy. They give up their lives to protect ours, just like you're doing. Just like Dean is doing."
“To turn back now wouldn’t change anything, no,” Sam agreed. “But… I don’t know what I think.” He sat up, looking more tired by the moment. “I think we’ve got time, and I’m concentrating on that. Time to turn this around.”
"I believe in you, Sammy, as cheesy as that sounds." Nina smiled at him. "I'll do some research too, see if I can't dig anything up. The more eyes looking the better. Just try for your brothers sake not to ride him so hard. I realize it's upsetting when he seemingly throws his life away, but you two need to spend the time you have as brothers and friends, not arguing about something that is already done."
“I try. But you know he doesn’t make it easy.” It was an inopportune moment for a flashback, but he had one. To nearly a year ago, when everything Dean said threatened to set Nina on a path of destruction. “He’s the lucky one, you know? He gets to be as fucked up as he wants to, especially now because he feels like he’s given himself an excuse. And I get to be the one left holding the bag.” Then came the perfunctory brave smile, the one he was all too used to flashing. “Sorry. I think that’s what’s called a floodgate that you opened.”
"It's alright; I'm excellent swimmer." Nina gave him a crooked smirk. "Besides, you can't be expected to hold all this in on your own. That's too much of a burden to carry." She picked up the small tube of Neosporin and began applying it to the clean cuts on Sam's face. "I know you and your brother have to leave again after this is all over," she said softly, the words harder to say then she thought they would be. "But you do have my phone number. Keep in touch with me, call me whenever you need to, hell Sam, let me come to your rescue once, huh?"
Sam smiled and huffed a laugh at this, mostly at what a foreign concept it was and somewhat at how nice it sounded. “I’ll call,” he replied simply, growing quiet as Nina continued dabbing at the small cuts he’d received. It felt like being pampered, which had both wrong and right sensations that accompanied this. He watched her closely behind a veil of stillness, how attentive she was to every nick. His jaw clenched as something stirred in him, something he’d thought buried, and he lunged forward, catching her lips with his own.
A small squeak of surprise escaped from Nina as Sam's lips pressed hard against her, though the shock only lasted a moment before she melted into him, feeling his arms take her in a secure embrace. They finally drew back, both needing air, Nina grinning from ear to ear. "Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?"
That would be a complicated answer, so he settled on something more straightforward. “It was overdue.”
* * * * *
“So are you going to tell me why your cuts are deeper and more numerous than your brother’s?” Janis asked as she applied a cotton swab with rubbing alcohol to Dean’s wounds. Luckily, none were fatal, but her assessment of the damage in relation to Sam was no less correct.
Dean reclined on the sofa, his head resting on the arm of it as Janis disinfected the superficial cuts on his bare chest. His ruined shirt was wadded up in his fist, and his face was deceivingly blank. She had already wiped away the excess blood with a washcloth and had been relieved to see there was more blood than actual injury. When given a chance to get a closer look at the marks left on him, they appeared disturbingly like claw marks, though they weren’t quite deep enough for that. She could only imagine it must have been someone’s fingernails. There was a cut on his bicep that was a lot nastier, and she had a curved needle and thread beside her, praying he would stop her and just take the scar first.
Silence spread out as Janis tossed the bloodied swab in the trash. “Not answering, I see.”
She was glared at for her trouble. “Don’t feel much like talking.”
“That’s a shame, isn’t it?” Janis asked and turned to the gash on his arm, cleaning this more meticulously and making him wince. “Because you’re going to.”
“What is this?” he growled. “You gonna torture me?”
Janis paused with a longsuffering sigh and kissed his temple. “No, it would just give me some peace of mind to know what happened.”
That simple request was more effective than authentic torture would have been. “We got overrun. I didn’t think they’d be waiting there for us.”
“Well, if Laura walked up to Nina in the store,” Janis mused aloud, running a damp washcloth over his arm, “then she must have been setting us up for this. All but screaming, ‘come find me!’ Chances are it was a trap all along.”
“Thanks,” Dean grimaced. “Always appreciate a vote of confidence like that.”
“Did I say you were stupid?” Janis asked, pausing in her work to stare at him, waiting until he returned the look to continue. “No, I didn’t. You did what it’s in your instincts to do. You struck back at them. I wanted you to. I’m just saying that in hindsight, which is always an infuriating 20/20, we should have thought about it more carefully rather than acting spontaneously. We let them get to us, and that was a mistake.”
It didn’t surprise her to see that his eyes were steely and brimming with unspoken fury. He was still angry and wanted someone to direct it toward. Whatever he and Sam had argued about, it must have been a doozy.
“Do you want me to sew that up?” she asked softly, nodding toward the open cut.
“You better,” Dean grunted, turning away again.
Janis shut her eyes wearily, picked up a lighter that had been among her emergency supplies, and flicked the flame to life. She waved the needle back and forth through the heat to sterilize it, chewing her lip nervously as she let the fire die with a click. The needle’s point hovered just over his skin, then Janis drew away with a sigh that was forceful enough to resemble a gasp.
“I don’t want to hurt you,” she laughed. “If it was anyone else, I don’t think it would bother me as much.”
“Hand it here,” Dean muttered with irritation, flicking his fingers at her as he sat up. “I’ll do it myself.”
“No,” Janis snapped, pulling her arm out of his reach. “Dean… if it’s between me helping you, and you doing it yourself, then I’ll help. Jesus.”
She wasn’t sure what had gotten into him, but she didn’t hesitate this time to push the needle through his skin and pull the thread through the other side. Dean groaned grabbing the half-drained beer he’d brought into the living room with him and finishing the rest hurriedly. Janis’s eyes reddened, and though it was a demanding test for her compassion, she ignored the affect his pain was having on the both of them. She sewed and cleaned carefully until the deed was done, the stitches surprisingly straight even to her own, fairly untrained eye.
“Better?” she asked as coldly as she could muster, wanting to turn away before an eye spilled or lip trembled.
Yet somehow the callousness had fallen from him. She admitted that she’d not been watching his face as she worked, and she couldn’t say what it was that had made it leave. Perhaps he was just too drained to hold onto his negativity, which she could understand. Perhaps the pain was cathartic to him, a possibility that terrified her. Either way, he glanced at the patched wound and nodded approvingly, then dipped in close for a kiss, his tongue glancing hers when she opened her mouth to gasp.
When he pulled away, it was with a soft, moist noise and a smile. “Perfect, babe.”
To Be Continued...