Evangeline Millie Winchester (Evie, to everyone who doesn't want to get shot) is the third Winchester sibling. She's the middle child, the one who keeps the brothers together. Or, she was. Until Sam bailed and left her and Dean to pick up the pieces...
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"We set up here. We cleared it out about a week ago now right? So it shouldn't be too swarmed up again, and it's not too far away. We set you and Dean in the basement, so no one can get down there and we have to people watching every entrance, with Cas at the top of the stairs down to the basement. Just in case. And we wait it out. And you know... if you survive the next four hours I'd say that it's a success." Sam two proposed, pointing to a house that was surrounded by one of those large, need a passcode to get in fences that we had cleared, and effectively destroyed about a week ago.
Destroyed, because in the process of killing the vampires that lived in it, we coated the house in blood, and we couldn't ask the softies to live in a place like that.
"Fine, whatever. You know what? No. Evie and I can fight too you know. We trained you Sammy boy, and everyone else in this group." Dean growled out, looking around at everyone that we had slowly been able to get back to the road after about twenty minutes. It had taken awhile, even with Cas being able to find everyone, simply because there are so many of us and they are all so stubborn. Everyone wanted to finish what they were doing before coming back, and then of course it took awhile to explain to everyone what was going on, and... basically this day has just been a massive shit show.
Sam rolled his eyes at Dean's comment, and waved his hands around, trying to placate Dean, but obviously it was just condescending.
"We know that Dean, but none of this matters if you and Evie don't walk out alive." I cleared my throat, breaking into the awkward tension that Sam's statement had created, and all nineteen pairs of eyes turned towards me.
"Actually, none of this matters if Dean doesn't walk out alive. Michael said nothing about me surviving tonight, and we all know that we need more fighters. I mean look at us... we've only got Daryl, Sam, Cas, granted there are two of each of them, Merle, Glenn, Rick, and T-Dog. Maggie if we're lucky. And yeah Bobby, I know you want to fight, but I'd feel better if you stayed back and helped protect the rest with Cas. It's been a bit since you were in the thick of it and we don't know how gnarly it's going to get tonight." Bobby glared at me but said nothing so I knew he agreed.
I looked around at everyone else, and everyone except my brothers (all three of them), both Castiels and both Daryls agreed with me.
"You don't think you deserve to be saved?" Cas one said quietly, staring hard at my face like he could read my mind, and hell, maybe he could. I knew for a fact we hadn't even scratched the surface of what he could do, but now we may never have the time.
"Not at the expense of my friends' lives." Dean, who had been standing on the other side of the large group, looked pissed. He stepped up, face red, madder than I've seen him in years, and it looked for a minute like he was about to give me a chewing out like I haven't felt before, but Daryl stepped in first.
"That's bullshit." He hissed, glaring at me. I wasn't sure really which Daryl this was, I had lost track in the confusion of everyone arriving, and both of them looked equally dirty and pissed so who could really tell anyway.
"No. Daryl. This is my decision. My life does not affect any of yours, unlike Dean. So I get to make this choice, just like all of you, and I choose to fight. Now, let's get going." I said, firmly ending the conversation and leaving the seven (three doubles plus Dean) of the people I'm closest to, in a hot rage as I walked away from the large group of people who were dispersing to their own cars. I was quick to get to the trunk of the Impala, pulling out any weapon I thought I could need, my silver knife, a shotgun with salt, a regular gun, a machete, and the demon knife. I shoved all of them into spots on my pants and turned around, slamming the trunk on my way, only to run into the chest of one of the Daryl's who still looked barking mad, but who also now had a desperate look in his eyes.
"I'm not gonna let you fight." I rolled my eyes, scoffing a bit. I was tired of this bullshit. I'm a strong, independent woman and I would fight for my life, and the lives of my family if I damn well pleased.
"You know... that shit, the overbearing ass-wipe shit may work on women like Lori, Carol.. Hell even Maggie sometimes, but it's not gonna work on me." It was like the flames in his eyes got bigger. He grabbed my arms, squeezing so hard onto my biceps I honestly thought there might be bruises there later, but I didn't flinch. I refused to.
"I can't watch you die again." He growled out, looking like it pained him to say it and I felt my own rage grow to match his. How dare he? How dare he play on my emotions like that? He knows I have feelings for him. He has to. He's the most damn observant person I know. How dare he use that against me?
"I never took you for a desperate son of a bitch. Now get your hands off me." I growled, and it was like the life left his eyes. His hands dropped to his sides like heavy weights, and when he exhaled, it was like the strength left him and he sagged against that weight that was always laying on his shoulders.
"Fine." He said softly, turning away from, trowing one last 'stupid bitch' over his shoulder, just for good measure. I huffed, forcing the tears back as I turned around, only to find Dean standing behind me, arms crossed over his chest with a disappointed look on his face, with both Sams and both Castiels right behind him.
"Why'd you do that?" Dean huffed, knowing how much I honestly do care about that man, and also how much I probably just ruined any chances I could have had with him.
"Just get in the car Dean. Let's go." I could hear it in my voice, how exhausted I was. And I couldn't help but wonder if I did do what Daryl had said. If I had just given myself to the walker that killed me. If I had just given up. Based on how I was feeling right now, I could believe it.
I'd probably do it again.
Because really, what do we deserve?
To fight for the rest of our lives like animals? To rage and hurt each other because we are all too emotionally stunted to be able to say what we actually feel? Because let's be honest, those of us still alive are alive for a reason, and it's not because we are healthy, stable people.
It's because our lives before were shit, and we fought through that. All we know is shit, and this life now is shit, so we just fight. And keep fighting until maybe it won't be shitty anymore. But we're just fooling ourselves, nothing will ever be better, it will always be just like this.
