Topic: Point of No Return (AU Backstory)

Ayden · Date: 2012-08-26 08:38 EST

Sam welcomed his newfound sister with open arms, a warm smile on his face. If he was feeling weirded out about it, it didn't show, but Sam had always had better people skills than his older brother, who was hiding somewhere inside with his nose buried in a book and a bottle of beer. He knew Dean would come around eventually in his own time and that forcing the issue would only drive him further away. The hug he gave Ayden was warm and brotherly and sincere, towering over the girl, like a giant. Though he'd only just met her, he felt a connection with her already, having spent the better part of three hours on the phone with her, listening to her story and trying to keep her calm until Bobby arrived.

"I'm Sam," he told her as he gave her a hug, instinctively wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he turned them both toward the woman in the wheelchair who was waiting nearby. "This is Ellen, Bobby's wife, and sort of our foster mother." Dean was visibly missing from the little family reunion, and Bobby had mumbled some excuse about the truck needing oil before wandering off toward the garage.

Ayden was still weepy when Bobby pulled up in front of the house he said was his, her face blotched and reddened and marred with tear-tracks. Everything had happened so fast - too fast for her to grab hold and make sense of - and it had left her shaken and reeling. She felt very small, very vulnerable, as she climbed out of the car, her duffle hanging heavily from her shoulder on the short walk up onto the porch.

But the welcome that awaited her from the tall man there was a relief, and Sam might well have been surprised by how trustingly his new-found little sister tucked herself under his hugging arm, scrubbing at her face in an attempt to wipe the tears away. "Hi," she managed in a soft voice, turned to look at the woman who was introduced as Ellen. "Thank you for letting me come here, Mrs Singer."

Ellen had insisted on waiting on the porch with Sam when the call had come through that Bobby was close to home. Dean was being difficult, which was only natural, but some things were more important than others. Making sure this little girl felt welcomed was more important right now than soothing Dean's misplaced sense of guilt. She offered a smile to the girl tucked close to Sam, proud of the younger Winchester for setting his personal confusions aside so well. "Never any thought you'd be staying away," she told Ayden warmly, turning her wheels with practised expertise to begin the task of leading brother and sister into the house. "It's not the Ivy, but it'll do. You're safe here, with your brothers."

Sam smiled, knowing the latest arrival was about to get her first scolding from Ellen, when she insisted the girl not address her so formally, if she continued that way. He couldn't help but notice she'd been crying, evidence of the emotional upheaval she must be feeling at the shock of the day. He knew it wasn't easy, even for those who were used to dealing with weird on a daily basis. He secretly wished Dean would get his head out of his a$$ and come greet her, like the big brother he was, but he hoped he'd come around in time. "Dean's inside," he explained, hoping she wouldn't ask why John Winchester's eldest wasn't as welcoming as his younger son, reaching to relieve her of the duffle that hung from her shoulder. "Are you hungry' Thirsty' Is there anything I can get you?"

Ayden nodded, a little shy of these strangers who were family in their own unique ways. "Is - is he okay?" she heard herself ask Sam, worried that the answer would be negative and the reason would be her. "He didn't sound ....Well, obviously, he's not happy, I mean, Dad didn't tell you guys about me at all. Which is bad - Oh!" As Sam took the duffle from her shoulder, she realised what Ellen was doing, lurching out from under her brother's arm to help pull the screen door open. "Let me get that for you, Mrs Singer."

"Girl, you call me that one more time, and I'll turn you over my knee, wheels or not," Ellen threatened with a laugh, albeit grateful for the assistance as she manuevered herself into the house. "And don't think I can't. I've got three men in this house who'll do anything I ask." She flashed Sam a grin. "I have control of the kitchen."

Sam huffed, a small chuckle escaping him at Ellen's remark. "Don't let her fool you. She has control of more than just the kitchen. We all know who wears the pants around here." Sam shouldered the duffle effortlessly, as if it weighed nothing at all. Dean often accused him of not only growing up, but overgrowing up. Sam shrugged as he circled back to the question regarding Dean, tossing a knowing and slightly worried glance at Ellen. "Dean's Dean. He'll come around in time."

Ellen caught that glance and offered Sam a very faint shrug in return. Dean would come around, but until he did, he was going to have the three people he loved most in the world poking and prodding to make sure he wasn't going in the other direction. She wheeled herself into the study, leaving Ayden with Sam in the hallway, clearly audible as she addressed the elder Winchester brother. "Get your nose out of that book and say hello to your guest before I run you down, kiddo."

Ayden glanced between the departing Ellen and Sam, her face crumpled in worried concern. "I don't want to be any trouble," she told Sam unhappily. "I just - I didn't know who else I could call. It's not like I can tell my neighbors that there are angels after me." She broke off, hearing Ellen's greeting to Dean, and her head dropped forward, one hand rubbing at her eyes once again. John Winchester's silence had dropped them all in a mess, and one it seemed she wasn't welcome to stir, at least as far as her eldest brother was concerned.

Sam offered yet another reassuring smile, seeming to be the more reasonable of the two brothers. Who'd ever guess at the anger that was seething just beneath the surface, or the horrible things he was capable of doing when jacked up on demon blood. To Ayden, to everyone around him, he often seemed like the voice of reason, but Dean knew better. Dean knew Sam was the most dangerous of them all. It was his secret, given to him by his father, and shared with no one, but Sam.

"You did the right thing, Ayden. You're safe here. Promise." Sam swung his gaze toward the study where Ellen was trying to coax Dean into making an appearance, like Punxsutawney Phil on Groundhog Day. "Guest room?" he asked, uncertainly, adjusting the duffle against his shoulder.

Dean lifted his head, three empty beer bottles and a pile of opened books spread out on the desk in front of him. The look he gave Ellen was reminiscent of his childhood, pouting like a boy who'd just been scolded and told to go to bed without supper. He knew better than to argue with Ellen, however, and tucked an empty Snickers wrapper inside one of the books to mark his page. "She here?" he asked, glancing toward the door and the voices coming from the other room, one distinctly Sam's and the other distinctly feminine, young, and scared.

Ellen held Dean's gaze with a level one of her own, even as Sam called through the doorway to her. She didn't break that contact as she answered the younger brother. "End of the hallway, blue room with the bay," she told Sam, one brow rising in the face of Dean's apparently impassive reaction to the fact that his sister had arrived. She waited until the footsteps had risen to the top of the stairs before speaking directly to Dean. "She has a name. Use it."

Sam offered Ayden another reassuring smile. "Come on. I'll show you to your room. It's the best room in the house." Up the stairs he went, on their way to the room that would be hers for the foreseeable future.

Ayden · Date: 2012-08-26 08:41 EST

Dean was the first to break away from Ellen's gaze, shuffling his feet as he rose from the chair, leaving the books as they were, along with a bottle of beer that was only half-full. He had never challenged Ellen to a staring contest, knowing he'd always lose. "I know she has a name, Ellen, but thanks for the reminder," Dean said, knowing he wouldn't get a whack in the head for his remark, only because Ellen couldn't reach him. He shoved his hands in his jeans pockets, a hint he was feeling awkward and uncomfortable and unsure what to do with himself.

"How attached are you feeling to your toes today, Dean?" Ellen asked him in a calm, matter-of-fact tone, turning in her chair to watch him rise up onto his feet. It was a by-now-familiar threat of hers, to break toes with her wheelchair's wheels, but Dean was coming very close to finding out if she actually would go through with it. "You really think this is the way to go, with sarcasm and sassin' the people who love you? I ain't saying you gotta wrap her up and treat her like she's one of the family straight off. But polite, that's somethin' I'm going to insist on. She called the only family she's got for help, she don't know what?s happening. And if she's anything like you boys, she'll run for the hills the minute she thinks she's making things worse by being here."

Dean frowned in remorse, knowing Ellen was right, but not being very good at comforting words or welcoming hugs, like Sam was, feeling more than a little out of his comfort zone with that sort of thing and a little bit lost at what to do about the situation. "Sorry," he admitted, apologetically. He'd been secretly trying to put himself in Ayden's shoes for the last four hours, trying to find a solution to the mess they'd found themselves in, all for naught. It was becoming clear to Dean that there was only one way out, and if he'd realized it sooner, her mother might still be alive. "I'm not very good at this sort of thing. Sam ....Sam is better at this than I am." He attempted to pass the buck, at least until he had a little more time to wrap his head around it.

Ellen watched him quietly, impressed despite herself when Dean pulled himself out of his personal pit to consider what she'd said rationally and answer like an adult. She hadn't actually been expecting that. That guilt's weighing him down harder than I thought. "Honey, she just lost the most important person in her life," she reminded him gently. "She called a father who she hadn't seen for, what, must be three or four years at least' And she was told that he was dead. That's two things most people take for granted, gone in one night. So what?s she got' She's got you, and she's got Sam. And you've got her. This isn't all about making it better for Ayden. You need an anchor. I'm thinking she's it."

As Ellen laid it all out for him, Dean realized, not for the first time, that Ayden was in the same boat that he and Sam were. She was an orphan, just like them, having lost a father to demons and a mother to angels. He wondered just how much Bobby had told her on the drive from Windom to Sioux Falls. "An anchor?" Dean echoed, furrowing his brows, not quite understanding what Ellen meant by that. He withdrew one hand from a pocket and took a lean against the desk, hearing movement upstairs, knowing Sam was showing their baby sister around.

"Sit." She pointed to the seat he had only recently vacated, wanting him on eye level if they were going to have this conversation. Ellen still recalled the broken man who had told her about the hallucinations and realisations he had gone through while hunting a Wraith on a closed psychiatric ward. Perhaps this was a chance to set one of those burdens on the right path again.

"Honey, you're lookin' at this all wrong. Sure, the fate of the world hangs in the balance, but you can't muster up a willingness to fight when you're feeling like there's six billion souls resting on your shoulders. You're tired, Dean, and you're hurting, and you're scared. And for one reason or another, Sam just isn't enough of a reason for you to fight back anymore. So you take a look at that little girl upstairs. Your little sister. Your blood and your family, whether you're ready to admit it or not. Think you can fight back for her, to keep her safe and in her apple pie life" Or should we all just give up now?"

Dean knew better than to argue when Ellen took that tone of voice. He thought she'd wanted him to welcome his sister and now it seemed she was about to give him a lecture. Like an obedient, if stubborn, child, he slunk back into the chair behind Bobby's desk - a spot that had become a familiar and favorite place for him of late. He reached for the half-full - or half-empty beer, depending on your point of view - and picked nervously at the label. It was a cheap brand Bobby was fond of, and though it didn't taste very good, it was cold and wet and after about six of them, numbed the pain just enough that Dean was able to focus his brain and think straight. "That's the truth of it though, Ellen," he pointed out dismally. "That girl's mother is dead because I didn't say yes."

"No." She wasn't going to let him wallow like that, wheeling herself around the table to take the bottle out of his hands. One thing they could all count on when they were down - Ellen was never going to let them drink themselves lower if she could help it. "That girl's mother is dead because a few decades back Yellow-Eyes decided he was going to put the wheels in motion for the Apocalypse. Before you were born. Or, if you want to look at it more closely, her mom's dead because that Zachariah is the worst kind of soulless thing there is - an angel with pride and a mission."

She sighed, shaking her head, setting the bottle back onto the desk again. Her hand smoothed against Dean's cheek, her dark eyes understanding even in the midst of that stern insistence. "What's done is done. We can't change the past, honey. So we'll fix the future instead."

He'd said more about his feelings in that one statement than he had in weeks, all of it coming to bear and weigh more heavily than ever upon his shoulders now that he knew the repercussions of his vehement denial to be Michael's vessel. Tired, hurting, scared - those were nothing compared to the guilt he was feeling. The fate of the world hung in the balance, and if the angels were to be believed, he was the only one who could stop it from burning. Him or Ayden, and he'd be damned if he was going to let them use her.

Over his dead body. He felt the burn of anger when she mentioned Zachariah. If there was one angel he wanted dead, it was that son of a bitch. But the anger didn't last. As soon as Ellen touched his cheek, the fire melted away under her dark, understanding gaze. Green eyes met hers, and he was unable to hide her feelings from her, knowing she'd see right through him. "I don't know how," he admitted, sounding small and insignificant, wondering how they were ever going to hope to do what she was suggesting.

"You don't gotta know how, not right this second," she assured him, though it was likely had Bobby been in the room that comment would have started one of those arguments between the couple that the wise skipped out on as fast as they could. "You don't gotta have all the answers all to yourself. You've got us, and we're working on it just as hard as you are. Are you really going to let that guilty feeling get in the way of getting to know your baby sister?"

"I don't know," he shrugged. "I guess not." Though he wasn't sure there was much point in getting to know her. Getting close to people only made it hurt all the more when they were gone. He circled back to something she'd said about Zachariah, something that had touched on a nerve. "If anyone is guilty of the sin of pride, it's me, I think. I started this whole thing. I know you think it was Azazel, but it was me. I'm the one who broke the first seal. I'm the one who started it, and I'm the only one who can stop it."

Ayden · Date: 2012-08-26 08:44 EST

That one brow of hers rose once again, warning him that to challenge what she was about to say was a very bad idea. "No, I still say it was Azazel. You're not the only one who's thought this right back to where it started, and here's what I got." Resting her elbow on the desk beside them, she leaned her head onto her hand as she spoke, mildly wondering just what Bobby was doing to the car to be spending this long outside in the dark.

"You were in Hell because you gave up your soul to save Sam's life. Only reason you did that was because your daddy did it for you. Only reason he did that is because Azazel gave him no choice, I'm sure of that. And the only reason any of you were in that situation to begin with was because Azazel wanted his Special Children so much, he took your mom away from all of you." See if you can argue your way out of that, smarta$$, she added in the silence of her mind.

He shook his head against Ellen's logic, already knowing all that. He changed the subject, rather than argue with her. He knew the demons had played him, played them all, starting with the deal his mother had made with the yellow-eyed bastard, maybe even before that, but none of that made any difference now. She was missing the point. It was up to him to stop the Apocalypse. He was the only one who could do it, or so he thought. "Sam is gonna say yes to Lucifer sooner or later. Sooner or later, he's gonna wear him down. I've seen the future, and it's not pretty. I'm not gonna let the world burn just because I'm too proud and stubborn to say yes. I can't, not anymore. You can call it giving up if you want to, but I'm tired, Ellen. I just want it to be over."

Sadness filled the dark eyes that had watched him grow up from bolshy little boy through c*cky teen to burdened man. Ellen eased back slowly, nodding with quiet acceptance of what she heard. One hand opened up a drawer of the desk between them, and she drew out a single bullet, polished by the touch of her fingers too many times to count. Holding Dean's gaze, she set it down on the desk in front of him.

"What's that?" he asked, with a nod of his head toward the bullet on the desk between them, wondering if she was going to suggest he just blow his brains out now and be done with it. He had to admit, it was a tempting thought, but despite everything, they both knew he wasn't really a quitter.

It was a moment before Ellen spoke, looking down at the bullet. And for once, she didn't wait until she had drawn herself under control, lifting her eyes back to Dean's raw and shining wet with every conflicting emotion he could care to name. Letting him see the full weight of despair and sense of worthlessness that had afflicted her through all the months she had been bound to this wheelchair, and hidden it away for the sake of her husband and the young men they considered as close as the sons they'd never had.

"That's the round I mean to put through my skull," she told him in a voice that trembled. This wasn't the calm, collected Ellen Dean knew. This was a woman in pain, who had been in pain for a long time without sharing it, who even now was trying to help the people she loved get through their own upsets. "Bobby doesn't know. I look at it every morning, and I think maybe today's the day, maybe this is the day I'll walk away and let the world go hang." She shook her head, squeezing her lips together for a moment to hold in the tears she was certain her Winchester boys couldn't cope with seeing. "I don't do it. I never do it. You know why?"

There was a pause, her gaze burning into his. "Because Bobby needs me to keep fighting. Because you and Sam need someone to hold onto, and right now, me and Bobby are all you got. Because I promised you I wouldn't give up. So don't you sit there and tell me the future's set and nothing'll change it, don't you dare. You find something worth fighting for, and you fight. Or don't you ever look me in the eye again."

Dean's eyes widened, a ripple of shock going through him. He'd never seen this side of Ellen before. She'd always been a rock, the strongest of them all. Even when she'd lost the use of her legs, she hadn't given up, she hadn't lost faith or hope or trust. And of all of them, she'd believed in him, she'd been there for him, she'd been more than just a friend. Though no one could ever take the place of Mary Winchester, Ellen Singer had been the closest thing to a mother Dean had ever had since he was four.

He met her gaze for a moment before feeling the heat of shame color his face, and he turned away, not wanting her to see the wetness in his own eyes. He knew she was not only opening up to him, confiding something in him that not even Bobby knew, but she was, in her own way, telling him she loved him and that she didn't want him to give up. For a moment, it might seem like he had given up, that he couldn't or wouldn't look her in the eye, but then he spoke, his voice quiet and ragged with weariness. "I just don't know what to do anymore, Ellen."

He turned back to her, sudden anger flashing in his green eyes at the unfairness of it all. If he could only hold onto that anger and not give into the hopelessness. "You think I want to give up" I don't. I want to kill Zachariah for what he did to Ayden's mother. I want to make the demons pay for what they did to you. Sometimes I feel so much anger and hatred, it scares me, and I wonder if that's all there is. Sometimes I feel like I'm losing my mind. I think it's too much. I just can't do it anymore. But then, I remember I have you and Bobby and Sam, and somehow I go on. I keep fighting because it's all I've got; it's all I know."

"Sometimes making a difference don't mean going on," Ellen said very softly. "Sometimes all you can do is make an end." Of course she didn't want to lose him, or Sam, and he knew that. But he needed to understand that she wasn't asking him to go on indefinitely, she wasn't expecting him to save the world all on his own. "You're not alone, Dean. We're right there with you, all the way. And we'll figure it out. But where's the harm, while we're doin' that, in giving some of that love you hold inside so tight to a little girl who needs her big brothers?"

Ayden · Date: 2012-08-26 08:48 EST

Put that way, there didn't seem much harm in it at all, but Dean knew better. Still, Ayden was more alone than even him or Sam, and despite his anger at his father for bringing another Winchester into the world, it wasn't her fault. She hadn't asked for this life any more than he or Sam had. That wasn't the problem at all. It wasn't even the fear of losing her that was the problem. He'd loved and lost plenty of people before and had few regrets about letting them in. It went a little deeper than that, and it took a bit of digging to get to the heart of the matter.

"But what if - what if I fail" What if I'm not what she needs me to be? What if I can't be the brother she needs" Sam is so much better at this than I am. I just don't know how." And yet, Dean had always been the big brother. He already knew how, if he only looked within himself for guidance.

Ellen actually laughed at this, the sound diffusing the tension that had filled the room since she had taken that bullet from its resting place. The drawer thumped as she closed it up again, the bullet out of sight once more. "Honey, how can you fail at being yourself?" she asked him pointedly, reaching over to touch his cheek fondly once more. "Sure, Sam's better at pulling out the puppy-dog eyes and making her feel like family. You know what? I'll bet you anything after ten minutes with you, Ayden will feel safe. Don't figure there's anyone else that can give her that."

She'd surprised him again, for possibly the third time that night. The first was when she'd pulled that bullet out of the drawer; the second, when she'd mentioned the love he held so tightly inside. The big L word that was never mentioned by the men that surrounded her, but that they all quite evidently felt for each other anyway. And the third time she'd surprised him was just now, by telling him that all Ayden needed was ten minutes with him, and she'd feel safe. Not with Sam or Bobby or even Ellen. With him, her big brother, the one who kept his heart carefully locked away, but who quite possibly bled the deepest, when all was said and done. "Yeah, maybe after I give her a lesson in how to use a sidearm," he remarked, a small smile on his face that hinted he was only half-serious.

Ellen snorted with laughter again, pleased to see something approaching normal back in her boy's eyes. As much as she loved both Winchesters, Dean held a special place in her heart, simply because he needed to be someone's favorite. He needed to come first in someone's heart, and Ellen could give him that without hurting Sam in the process. "Teaching her how to change the oil in her car'd be better," she suggested, patting his knee firmly. "Now ....do you want to go and drag Bobby back in here, or do I get to smash another bottle of whiskey under my wheels?"

"She has a car?" he asked, arching both brows, suddenly interested in a different aspect of his newfound sibling. "Bet hers isn't as sweet as my baby." A smirk lit his face, reminiscent of the old Dean before he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders. He pushed away from the desk and moved to his feet, leaning over to press a fond kiss to Ellen's forehead. "He's probably procrastinating so he doesn't have to be part of the feelings talk he knows we're having. I'll shag his a$s inside, so you can get to bed."

"Just you tell him if he doesn't put me to bed, you will," she grinned back at him, her expression softening just a little at the kiss touched to her forehead. Dean didn't give out gestures of affection often; each one was gathered close and wrapped up tight next to her heart.

"Like that's a big threat. Haven't crawled into bed with you two since I was ten." It was actually more like twelve, but he wasn't going to admit that. "He snores," Dean remarked with another smirk, but of course, Ellen already knew that. He headed toward the door, wondering if Sam was giving Ayden their life story upstairs, or if he'd turned in. Dean glanced at his watch, shocked at the time. It would be morning in a few hours. Normal people would be fast asleep by now.

Ellen smiled, watching him walk away. And very slowly, that smile faded, exposing the rawness of her emotions to an empty room. The men in her life, all three of them, always seemed to teeter from one disaster to the next, and always picked themselves back up. But Dean wasn't picking himself up, not this time, and that worried her to her bones. She could only hope that he would embrace being the big brother to a frightened girl and find something in that worth getting up for. Ellen wasn't prepared to see Azazel win, not after everything they'd been through.

Family was more important than the Apocalypse. They'd find a way. Somehow.

((Okay, so I distracted Dean's player from the main storyline, but hey, at least we're working on filling in some of that backstory, right' :grin: More to come, and many thanks to the princess!))