He keeps grabbing hold of me and hugging me right when I'm not expecting it. And, yeah, I'm not exactly Smurf-sized, but the guy is as big as a friggin' house dammit! I'm gonna be counting bruises for a month.
So yeah, we survived the Stull Apocalypse. I think Sam's kinda overly-grateful, although to be honest he's the one we should all be grateful to. Sure, I might have been the one who actually stuck it to the Devil, but I could never have done that if Sammy hadn't done what he did, controlling everyone's power like that. Angel, demon, Einherjar.
When did my little bro suddenly turn into a such a big damn hero?
Maybe I just wasn't paying enough attention. Seems like only five minutes ago he was playing with army men and Lego.
Anyway. Now I sound like a damn girl.
I guess I'm just... happy, I guess. And it seems like such a long time ago I felt like this. Really, truly happy.
I could sleep for a week.
Sammy said that once. Now it feels like it actually might happen.
Of course, we've got some serious celebrating to do before then. And I'd like to spend some time with Dad and Bonnie and my family. It's good to see Sammy with Sarah. I told him years ago he ought to marry that girl. I'm hoping Bobby might come with us to Lynchburg. Wouldn't be a family gathering without the old coot. And I want to introduce him to that Guardian guy - Turner, I think his name is. Rufus Turner, maybe? I think the two of them would get on like a house on fire.
Anyway, I'm yammering on like that girly vamp in that girly vamp TV show yammers on in his girly vamp diary.
Enough of this. I got a bottle of Jack with my name on it. Well actually, it's got Jack's name on it, but if they called it Dean I don't think anyone would buy it. But what do I know? Dean Winchester on the rocks. Shaken not stirred. With Coke. Okay, that's maybe a little girly after all.
We just saved the world.
I'm outta here.
Sympathy for the Devil (Not!) - The Rolling Stones
So it's over, I guess. Lucifer is...well he's gone. No one's sure where or whether he's actually, y'know, dead - even Castiel's not sure. Maybe he's in that cage, the one in that other universe where - where that other me was locked up too. I don't know. I guess we'll never know.
To be honest, I don't care.
Haris is gone, Lucifer is gone. And my family's still here.
Does that mean I'm finally free of that dark destiny that seems to have been shadowing me my whole life? I don't know that either. I do know I'll always have that something inside of me, that part of the curse. But it doesn't have to be a curse. I can still help save people.
I guess that's what we'll do, me and Dean. When we've regrouped a little. I want to spend some time with Dad and Bonnie. And with Sarah. I want to spend a lot of time with Sarah. I finally feel as if it's safe for me to be with her, you know? That I won't blink and she'll be on fire on the ceiling, just because she got too close to me.
For the first time in my life I feel safe.
Maybe me and Dean can still hunt part time. There's still evil in the world, even if the Nexus seemed to drag back all the demons that came through from those other universes. Honestly, I don't really know how to do anything else. And Dean? Well Dean always has to be a hero, even if he doesn't know he's doing it. And he's been doing it since he was four years old.
I remember saying once that when we finally killed the Yellow Eyed Demon I'd sleep for a week. Well I never did get to sleep for a week, but right now? With Sarah in my arms and Dean and Dad and my friends and family around me?
He's pretending he's not, because he's just oh-so-macho, but I see the way he keeps looking at me out of the corner of his eye like I'm gonna grow a second head any minute.
So we kinda had the same dream. Big deal. It's not the weirdest thing that's ever happened to us.
I just wish... I know he's not gonna go for it. But I need to go to Wyoming. I'm sure that's what the dream was trying to tell me. I need to be there, that place where...where I nearly died. Where Dean nearly died. Something--someone--is calling me back and I just know I need to go. I need to be there. And if Dean won't come with, then I'll have to go alone. He can't stop me. He's not my dad. And I'm an adult now, for crying out loud. He can't stop me. I'm bigger than he is.
So while Sam Googles himself senseless, I'm sitting here thinking about dreams.
Not any dream in particular--well maybe that freaky-ass thing I just got front row seats for--but dreams in general. Sure, I dream. About things guys are supposed to dream about. You know? Chicks. And my car. And beer. And chicks with beer in my car. And stuff. But I don't have those dreams. You know, the ESP vision-thing brain-melting doozies Sam gets.
Yeah, those dreams? Totally Sam's thing. Wouldn't wanna intrude on his turf.
So while I'm not thinking about any dream in particular, some dude telling me I felt it (and believe me, ladies, I never felt it), and my damn necklace getting all glowy on me? Yeah. Not freaking me out at all.
And then there's the added complication of my kid brother doing his Psychic Sammy thing and hearing the same damn words in his dream.
No, totally not freaked out about that at all.
Sam wants me to call our hunter contacts and see if they've heard about anything big going down. I see two problems with this. Firstly, it's the middle of the night. And, secondly, most of our hunter contacts think Sam's the Antichrist and I'm Haris' favorite bitchboy. Oh, and did I mention it's the middle of the freakin' night?
I'm so going back to bed. I'm not gonna be Sammy's stool pigeon, not this time.
Dammit, who am I kidding? Where's my goddamn phone...
So Sam's asleep. Finally. I guess it can really take it out of a person being possessed by some red eyed crossroads demon skank from an alternate reality for a couple days. He doesn't seem too much the worse for wear. Apart from, y'know, where I shot him. Twice. And yeah, I totally did not forget that freakin' asylum! I guess payback's a bitch.
Dad's asleep too. Between the two of 'em I figure I get to sleep in the tub tonight. But hey, worse things, right? At least I got my family together. If just for tonight.
I don't get it, you know? Why Dad has to get all secretive like this. Why he has to take off to "get his head together." We could help him get his friggin' head together if he'd just stay. I know something bad's coming. So does Sammy. But it'd be a lot easier to face it head on if Dad were with us. That's all I'm saying.
So now I get to listen to the two of 'em sawing horses while I sit up all night worrying about them and wondering what that crossroads bitch meant about Sam dying and me selling my soul to save him and going to Hell. Was that one of the realities Dad saw when he was trapped in the Stull Gateway? And does he still really think we're not the real Sam and Dean? Or not his Sam and Dean anyway. Its no wonder his head needs getting together when you look at it from that point of view.
Anyway, I need to get me some zzzzzs. Having your centuries old necklace that'll kill you if it gets taken off of you taken off of you is no picnic either.
Okay, so, I'm supposed to believe that angels are real, and that the feather we've been using against black-eyed skanks all this time is actually a feather from one.
Right. Well excuse me if I don't buy it.
Some geeky looking dude in a trenchcoat shows up and I'm supposed to believe he works for the big guy upstairs. Not only that, but he and his brethren are actually trying to gank a priest! I mean, c'mon, what is the world coming to?
Oh, and if this Castiel is really one of the harp carrying bozos from up yonder, then why can't Sammy see him? Sammy thinks about that crap all the time. He should be the one seeing things - hell, he usually is the one seeing things...
Oh, and if angels just aren't whacked out enough, me and Sammy found ourselves a real buckets of crazy dude don't at the local looney bin, and a religious deity that likes to chow down on a hunk of flesh every now and again. Well, either that, or a bunch of his followers who have taken to white meat just for the hell of it.
Ain't that just peachy? I hate to think what we'll find if we stick around for the whole week.
Right now sammy is off playing cop at the newest crime scene while I get to go talk to Father Alvaro again. And he says he gets the rum end of the deal! Gimme a dead body to a stuffy old church any time. of course, Sammy would say that's just some inner part of me that's scared of the places, but then maybe I am - let's face it, there not exactly safe if a priest nearly gets offed by one of his own in his church, are they?
Still, maybe the kid will be there again, at least he's easier to talk to...kinda...
Dammit, did I mention I hate this town? I'm telling ya, bad vibes, man.
So it feels like someone's been playing soccer with my head.
And now? Now Dean decides he wants me to care and share.
Impeccable timing as always, big bro.
So yeah, I know he wants me to talk about what happened at Stull. And I will. I will. But... I need to get all straight in my own head before I can help him get it straight in his. I know he's worried about me. Hell, when isn't he worried about me? But what I did back there? Even I'm not sure what happened.
Yeah, I could feel Mia's power, just like I have before. And I reflected it back so I could get us the hell outta there. But... I could still feel it. After she was gone. After she was Hellpuppy chow. After I was a couple realities away. How does that happen? How do I explain that? If I'm just a conduit, just a mirror, how did I still have her power after she was dead?
Maybe Dean's right. Maybe I am some kind of psychic "sponge" that can drain the powers out of other people. I don't know. Is that what happened in Fort Worth? Had I somehow stored some of Nathan's whirlwind-making power in me?
I wish there was someone I could talk to about this. Someone else who could do this. But I guess I'm unique. And most of the other psychic kids are dead now. As far as I know.
Maybe I'll try calling Gudrun. She had some idea what was going on with me. Always supposing they get cell reception in Valhalla...
But for right now? I'm liking Dad's plan. Sleep. And radio silence.
So we did it. Somehow. Me 'n Sammy. With a little help. We got Dad out of Stull.
He slept all the way from Lawrence to Bonnie's house. Feel like I could sleep all the way to the Moon and back. Seriously. It's like I've not gotten any zzzzzzz's in the six months he's been trapped down there.
I wish I could lose this feeling like it's not really over though. Yeah, he's back, and it's really him. I don't think Mia was messing with us when she told us that. But it's just... he won't talk to us. Won't tell us what happened to him, what it was like. The things he saw. I know some of it must have been pretty bad. That yellow-eyed sonofabitch wearing my face - till I blew it off - can't have been a picnic. And his version of Sammy? Jeez. The way he looked at me. Made my flesh crawl and the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.
So yeah. I know Dad wasn't on the back nine sipping a brewski with Tiger Woods or nothin'.
But still. Just wish he'd talk to us.
Oh Christ. Now I sound like Sammy.
Who's been...almost as quiet as Dad since we got back. Think it freaked him out even more than it freaked me out when he did his whole reflection thing without having anyone there to reflect. Mia was gone, man. No way that was just her he was mirroring.
Who'd o' thought I'd be the only Winchester doing the "Let's talk about this," crap, huh?
Now I need to go to sleep for twenty years. Hopefully Bonnie's got a good stock of the local beverage of choice here in sunny Lynchburg. If not? The Jack factory is only a mile down the road.