𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 || 𝐒𝐚𝐦 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

Chapter 9 ~ Misunderstandings

The silence on the car ride back to the Bunker seemed interminable, impenetrable as the sleek black Impala zoomed down the blacktop road before us. I could sense the tension in the air, crackling between the three of us like electricity. An electricity no one wanted to be the first one to breach. Not even Sam, who was usually the mediator on things like these, spoke a word to end the quiet reigning in the small vehicle. My brown eyes flicked down to my clothes then, zoning in on the dark red stains the color of cranberry sauce that had now become a permanent fixture on my white Van Halen shirt. I was still in more than a little shock of what I'd done - saving his life like that.

"So what was that about back there?" Dean's voice broke the silence then, drawing my gaze to him through the rear-view mirror.

Brown orbs met forest green and he continued, "Billie told you not to save either of us anymore. But you did it anyway,"

I ripped my gaze away then to glance out the window, the trees passing by in flashes behind the smudged glass.

"I don't have to explain myself to you, Dean," I replied shortly, indicating the conversation was over.

But it was far from over according to Dean apparently who continued to pepper me with questions.

"You do when it comes to my brother," he snapped back, his words drenched in a vibe that screamed 'over-protective older brother', "Now answer the question, Carter."

"Dean, stop it." Sam cut in, his voice quiet but firm, the first words he'd spoken since the incident silencing the both of us instantly.

An icy atmosphere formed between us all once again as we lapsed into a quiet only broken by the sound of the Impala's engine. It was an unfortunately long drive back to the Bunker but when we finally arrived at the rusted building built into a large hill of green grass, I immediately pushed the passenger door open and stumbled out. My shoes hit the hard-packed earth beneath me and I wobbled a bit from the impact, my hand reaching out to latch onto the door to steady me. Dean had already made it to the door by that moment, having stepped inside and left it hanging open behind him in his haste to catch Cas up on that situation at hand. I was about to follow him in then, slamming the car door on my way when gentle fingers slid around my wrist, pulling me back around not unkindly. Cocoa-brown orbs met those mixed with hazel and I sucked in a breath at the sincere yet confused expression on his face.

"Why did you do it?... Why save me, Car?" he implored, his voice a near whisper in the stillness of the woods that surrounded us on either side.

"Car? Really? What? Is that, like, my new nickname now? You get in good with the Winchesters and suddenly you get a pet name?" I smirked, an edge of snarkiness to my words.

"I'm serious." he said somberly, hazel eyes begging for his query to be answered.

Glancing down briefly at the scuffed toes of my shoes, I bit my lower lip in thought as the gravity of both his question and the situation hit me all at once. Why had I done it? What did I stand to gain from saving his life like that? He was nothing to me, just some hunter I was supposed to keep out of trouble. But 'trouble' had never entailed resurrecting him. Especially not where a Winchester was concerned. But I did it - I saved his life, I brought back his soul. I brought back his soul - not reaped it. It wasn't my job and by doing that, I'd broken probably a thousand mandates instilled in reapers since time immemorial. All for one hunter with stunning hazel eyes that peeked into every part of me, every human emotion that I had buried for so long - ones I never wanted to feel again. And yet...

Making up my mind then and there, I admitted the only words that came to mind in that moment.

"Because the world still needs Sam Winchester..." I observed, tilting my head upwards to glance into the compassionate, gentle hazel orbs I'd begun to know so well.

His gaze held mine, eyes sparkling with an emotion I couldn't quite identify.

"Sammy! You comin'? Think Cas may have found something!" Dean hollered out from the Bunker door then, expertly breaking our eye contact as we both tried to find somewhere else - anywhere else - to look.

"Uh, yeah! Yeah, coming..." he called back to him.

Dean went back inside after that, leaving an awkward silence in his wake. I shifted from foot-to-foot, subconsciously shoving my hands in my pockets. It was a bad habit I'd formed over the years, one of my own little anxious tics I had picked up. Sam's hazel eyes locked onto the nervous gesture in that moment, his mouth curling up at the ends ever so slightly. Blushing in embarrassment, I jerkily yanked my hands out only to have the contents of my pockets rain down onto the ground — crumpled up bits of paper, gum wrappers, spare change, etc. The red on my cheeks darkened then to scarlet and Sam laughed, not unkindly, as he stooped down to pick it up for me.

But almost as soon as he did, he fell silent. I frowned in thought but before I had a chance to speak, he slowly stood up, hazel eyes meeting my own dark orbs. Sam held out his hand then and suddenly, I knew the reason for his silence. My stomach dropped at the sight before me. There, nestled in his palm, was a small bracelet with purple beads. The lettering on it had clearly faded over time but the name was still starkly visible, even from this distance: J E S S.

His voice turned hard then, all traces of the softness of familiarity gone from his words.

"Why do you have this?"