Written by: KariGorsuch

The glow of a gas station sign flickered ahead, a small oasis of light standing out in the otherwise dark night. I pulled the Mustang in after the Impala, parking it at the pump next to it. Stepping out, I set the pump to fill before looking over at the Impala. A soft click drew my eyes to the passenger rear door, where Eve slowly climbed out.

Eve stretched against the cool night air, rolling her shoulders slightly before leaning against the Impala's door frame. Dean, who had been pretending not to watch her, flicked his eyes away and focused on the pump. When my pump clicked, I slammed the nozzle back into the receiver with a little more force than necessary, making Eve jump.

"You good?" I asked, walking around the rear of the Mustang.

Eve shot me a tired smirk. "Been worse." Her voice was scratchy and almost a whisper.

Dean scoffed behind her. "Yeah, well, next time, try not to let an old-ass vamp use your throat as a chew toy." He slammed the gas pump back into place, eyes narrowing at her.

Eve rolled her eyes, flinching at her throat. "I had it handled."

I snorted. "Bullshit."

Eve shot me a look, but I didn't back down- we all saw how that went down. Sam sighed and rubbed a hand over his face.

"Look, we can argue about this later," he said, shooting Dean and me a warning glance. "Right now, we need to get back on the road. How far are we from your parents' place?"

I pulled out my phone, checking the GPS. "Still about six hours out if we don't hit any stops other than fuel."

"Then we keep moving. The sooner we can go back to hating each other, the better." Dean grumbled.

"Hate's such a strong word." Eve muttered, glancing at me with playful eyes.

I rolled my eyes but smirked. "Yeah? What would you call it?"

Eve shrugged, limping over to the Mustang. "Mildly aggressive mutual irritation?"

Sam and I snorted, exchanging a glance. "More like mildly aggressive mutual longing..."

Dean groaned loudly, shoving the Impala's door open. "Oh my god, can we not?"

Eve smirked, but didn't push it, easing herself into the Mustangs passenger seat with a wince. I caught the movement and frowned.

Sam must've noticed too, because he sighed and shot me a look before climbing into the Impala.

As I slid behind the wheel of the Mustang, I turned to Eve, lowering my voice. "You sure you're good?"

She waved me off, "I'm fine."

"Riiight. And Dean's the poster boy for emotional stability."

She snorted, shaking her head and gesturing for me to just drive.

I narrowed my eyes at her, but didn't push. Instead, I revved the engine and pulled out of the gas station, taking the lead as we headed back onto the open road.

The night stretched long ahead of us, the empty highway swallowed by darkness except for the twin beams of headlights cutting through it. The Mustang's engine purred beneath my hands, a steady, familiar sound, but my mind wasn't nearly as calm.

I stole a quick glance at Eve. She was leaned against the window, her fingers idly tracing patterns on the seat, her face unreadable. Behind us, the Impala kept a steady pace, following the Mustangs tail lights.

"William won't be bothering you anymore," I said, breaking the silence as flashes of Dean taking the vamps head off filled my mind. "It's really fucking weird..." I trailed off.

Eve made a 'go on' gesture.

"His lackeys... It was almost too easy to kill them. It's like the orders from the crypt are still ingrained in them- to leave me and Sam alive."

Eve's fingers paused mid-pattern, her brow furrowing slightly. "I noticed that too," she rasped, her voice weak. "William mentioned it's 'What She wants'- they even mentioned Eve at the bar earlier- you don't think- they're working with Not Eve?"

I shot her a look, "I wouldn't be surprised... It's not the first time they've mentioned her. Why else would they call Sam the Favorite?"

"Because he's pretty," she teased.

I snorted. "Yeah, that's gotta be it. Real shame for you and Dean, though."

Eve smirked, though it was weak, and she shifted in her seat. I didn't miss the way she trailed a hand lightly over the bandage around her neck.

"You sure you're okay?" I asked, side-eyeing her as I kept the Mustang steady.

She sighed, flinching slightly. "I heal fast- I'll live."

"That's not a no..."

"It's not a yes either," she shot back, tilting her head to smirk at me.

I shook my head, hiding a small smile.

The miles flew by quickly with the rising sun, and before I knew it we were crossing over the Florida State line, and into Jackson County.

I sighed heavily, glancing over at Eve. "I don't know what happened between you and Dean- the whole pretend relationship thing- but I need you two to get it together."

"Its-" she started roughly, then coughed. "It's complicated."

I scoffed. "Please. You two make Sam and I's -not- relationship look like a fucking cake walk."

She let out a weak laugh, but her expression turned serious again as she glanced out the window, the sun now casting long shadows across the slightly busier road.

I swallowed hard, gripping the wheel a little tighter as we took the exit towards my parents house. The roads here were familiar but different, warped by time and storms. The half-dead trees stood like skeletons along the roadside, and the brush was overgrown, reclaiming whatever space it could. Hurricane Michael had torn through this place, and even years later, the scars were still visible.

As we neared the neighborhood, my stomach twisted. The high school looked bigger than ever- a new amphitheater was built right up next to the road, and the track was overrun with portable classrooms. I slowed down as we passed, taking in how much it had expanded in the years I'd been gone.

I turned right onto Minnesota Ave, the Impala following like a black shadow. A half mile down the road, I turned onto my parents property.

Five acres of land, right in the heart of the city but outside of the limits- my parents always did like their space. The house stood at the end of a short driveway, nestled between the tall, swaying lines that had somehow survived every storm thrown at them. The tires crunched over the asphalt drive as I eased the Mustang down the bumpy drive. The Impala followed suit, rolling into the vacant parking spot next to the Mustang as I shut off the engine.

I sat there for a moment, gripping the steering wheel, staring at the familiar outline of the old two-story house. A few more 2x4's were pulled away from the side of the house, but miraculously, the house still stood strong.

Glancing over at the Impala, Dean was already climbing out, stretching like he'd been stuffed in a box for too long. Sam followed, rolling his shoulders and taking in the property with a quiet sort of interest.

"Nice place," Sam said.

Dean snorted. "A little too 'Home and Garden' for my taste."

"Well, your taste is shit, so that doesn't mean anything," I replied, rolling my eyes and stepping out into the Florida humidity. Shrugging off my jacket, I tossed it into the backseat and tugged my tank top down.

Catching Eve's half glare, I tacked on, "Your taste in decor, anyway..."

Dean smirked, clearly unfazed. "Yeah, well, you're the one who dragged us here, so I guess we're all suffering."

Eve scoffed, stepping out of the Mustang a little slower than usual, her movements stiff.

"Nobody asked you to come, Winchester," I snapped, arms folding across my chest. "Eve and I would've been perfectly fine without you."

Dean raised an eyebrow, completely unfazed by my tone. "Oh yeah? Because from where I was standing, Eve nearly got her throat ripped out, and you were about one second from making some really dumb choices."

I felt something hot flare in my chest, and before I could stop myself, I fired back, "Eve nearly got her throat ripped out because of you, you walking fucking bag of emotional trauma!"

The words hit exactly how I wanted them to. Dean's expression barely changed, but something flickered in his eyes- something raw, dark, and gone too fast for me to catch before he smothered it with usual bravado.

"Bri-" Eve whispered from the front of the Mustang.

I clenched my jaw.

Sam cleared his throat, stepping between us like a goddamn referee. "Maybe we don't do this in your parents' driveway?" His voice was calm but edged with exhaustion.

I exhaled slowly, my anger simmering, but I bit my tongue. Sam had a point. Like always.

"Fine. But you-" I pointed at Dean, "Need to be on your best fucking behavior. None of that bullshit from Eve's parents' place. Either you two are together, or you aren't. No fucking arguing."

I looked back at Sam, my gaze softening.

Sam met my gaze with a knowing look- half exasperation, half understanding. He nodded slightly, the unspoken agreement passing between us.

Dean, of course, rolled his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, Mom. I'll be a good little houseguest."

I narrowed my eyes at him but didn't take the bait. Instead, I turned on my heel and headed for the porch, my boots thudding against the wooden steps.

The front door swung open before I could reach for the handle.

My mom stood in the doorway, arms crossed, her expression unreadable as her sharp gaze flicked from me to the three hunters behind me. She hadn't changed a bit—same piercing stare, same take-no-shit posture.

"Well," she drawled, leaning against the frame. "Took you long enough."

A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it down. "We had to make a stop in North Carolina on the way."

Mom's gaze lingered on Eve for a second before she smiled warmly at her, drawing her into a tight hug. "It's good to see you again, dear." She then glanced at Sam and Dean, her gaze sharpening. "Who are you?"

"Sam and Dean-" I gestured to each of them, "They're... friends."

Sam gave her a polite nod, his manners kicking in like clockwork. "Ma'am."

Dean smirked, tilting his head. "Nice place. Real... homey."

Mom arched an eyebrow unimpressed. "Uh-huh." Without a beat, she looked back at me. "Come on in, your Fathers starting breakfast."

I exchanged a glance with Eve, then Sam. "If it's alright- we'd like to get a couple hours of sleep. We drove all night..."

Mom's sharp gaze softened just a fraction as she stepped aside, motioning us in. "Of course. Your room is the same as you left it."

I let out a breath, nodding. "Thanks, mom."

Eve made a beeline for the hallway, clearly ready to crash. Sam gave my mom and grateful nod before following. I gestured for Dean to follow them as I stepped through the living room toward the kitchen.

Dad was there, standing at the stove, spatula in hand, flipping bacon with the same practiced ease as always. The smell of bacon and eggs filled the air, mixing with the faint scent of sawdust and motor oil that always seemed to cling to him.

He glanced up as I stepped in, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Well, look who decided to come home."

A small smile tugged at my lips. "Hey, Dad."

He wiped his hands on a dish towel before pulling me into a firm hug. It was brief, but warm, and for a second, I let myself relax into it. When he pulled back, his gaze drifted toward the hallway where Eve and the others had disappeared. "They friends of yours?"

"Something like that, you know Eve though," I said, rubbing the back of my neck. "We've been on the road all night. Figured we'd crash for a few hours if that's alright."

Dad hummed, studying me with that quiet, knowing look of his. He could always tell when something was off. "You in trouble?"

I hesitated for a beat too long.

His lips pressed into a thin line. "Alright," he said gruffly. "You get some sleep. But when you wake up, you and I are gonna have a talk."

I sighed, nodding. "Yeah. I figured."

He reached over, squeezing my shoulder before turning back to the stove. "Go on then. Get some rest while you can."

I didn't need to be told twice. As I made my way toward me room, I passed by the guest room where Eve and Dean were already settling in. Eve had already claimed the bed, while Dean was sitting on the edge, pulling off his boots. He glanced up as I paused in the doorway. "You good?" he asked, voice low. I nodded. "Yeah. Just... try not to piss off my dad while we're here, alright?"

Dean gave me that lopsided smirk, the one that usually meant trouble. "No promises," he muttered, kicking off his boots with a thud.

I rolled my eyes but couldn't help the small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. "I'm serious, Winchester. He's not like Eve's mom — you piss him off, and you might just end up dead. Or sleeping in the barn."

Dean's grin widened as he stretched back on his elbows, perfectly at ease. "Barn's probably nicer than half the places we've stayed."

I snorted, shaking my head. "Suit yourself."

Eve, already half-buried under the covers, mumbled something incoherent, clearly on the verge of passing out. Her exhaustion was practically radiating off her. I lingered in the doorway for a second longer than I meant to, watching the way Dean's eyes flicked toward her, softening just a little before he caught me looking and his expression shuttered again.

"Get some sleep," I said, more for myself than anyone else, and finally peeled away, heading for my own room.

The door creaked as I shut it behind me, the familiar scent of home wrapping around me like a heavy blanket. I hadn't realized how much I missed it until now — the worn quilt on my bed, the faint sound of the ceiling fan clicking with every rotation, the distant hum of my dad moving around in the kitchen. I collapsed onto the bed without bothering to change, minus toeing off my boots. My body sank into the mattress like it remembered exactly where it belonged. I barely lifted my head as Sam entered the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

Sam moved with the kind of carefulness that came from years of trying not to wake people up in shitty motel rooms. He sat on the edge of the bed by my feet, rubbing a hand over his face before sighing heavily.

"You okay?" He asked, his voice low.

I huffed a tired laugh, rolling onto my side to face him. "You're the second person to ask me that in the last five minutes."

Sam gave me a knowing look. "And?"

"'M fuckin' tired," I muttered, letting my eyes drift shut for a second before forcing them back open. Sleep tugged at me, but my mind wasn't quite ready to shut off just yet.

Sam studied me, his expression unreadable. "Yeah. Me too."

I let out a slow breath, then shifted, making more room on the twin sized bed. "Come here."

Sam hesitated for a second, then toed off his boots and laid down beside me, careful to not settle down against me. I rolled my eyes, leaning back against his side. "Seriously Sam, you know I don't bite..."

He chuckled softly, but didnt relax right away, clearly still fighting his instincts. "Just... trying not to make it weird."

I snorted, the sound muffled by the pillow I half-buried my face in. "Too late for that."

Sam's breath caught in his chest, and I felt a slight shift in his posture as he adjusted to lie a little closer, his arm hesitating before it slipped over my side. I leaned my head back against him, the warmth from his body comforting. His arm tightened slightly, tugging me back into his chest slightly. I wiggled slightly, tangling our legs together.

Sam's breath hitched again, and I could feel his heartbeat steady, matching mine. He shifted again, this time pulling me closer, his chin resting lightly on top of my head. The motion felt natural, and I let out a breath, closing my eyes as my body settled against his before sleep took me.

Several hours later, I woke- cold and alone.

The warmth that had been wrapped around me earlier ws gone, replaced by the empty space where Sam had been. My body immediately protested the absence, curling in on itself instinctively. I blinked against the afternoon light filtering through the curtains, my brain sluggish as it tried to process why I was suddenly awake.

The quiet murmur of voices from the kitchen filtered through the walls. I could pick out my dad's low, gruff tone, my mom's sharper, more pointed one, and- Sam's. His voice was calm, steady, answering whatever questions they were throwing at him.

I sighed, running a hand over my face before pushing myself up. The room felt too still without him, and I hated how quickly I noticed. Stretching, I swung my legs over the side of the bed, rubbing the sleep from my eyes as I tried to shake off the lingering chill.

Grabbing the flannel draped over the chair in the corner, I tugged it on and made my way down the hall, following the familiar scent of bacon.

As I stepped into the kitchen, all three of them looked up. My dad, leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest with an unimpressed look on his face. My mom, seated at the table, glanced at me like she was trying to gauge if I'd actually gotten any decent sleep. Sam, standing by the fridge with a cup of water in his hand, had the nerve to look like he belonged there- like he hadn't left me to wake up alone.

"Morning, sunshine," my mom said, gesturing to two of the plates set aside. "Sleep well?"

I rolled my eyes, plopping into the chair across from my mom. "Would've slept better if certain people didn't ditch me."

Sam had the decency to look slightly guilty, but recovered fast as he moved to sit next to me. "Figured you could use the sleep since you drove all night."

I scoffed, stealing his cup from his hands and taking a sip myself. "Yeah, 'cause sprawling out alone is way better than being warm."

My mom hummed, eyeing the exchange with thinly veiled curiousity. "Who's shirt are you wearing, Bri?"

I froze mid-bite, my brain stuttering over the question before I looked down at myself.

The flannel.

Shit.

It wasn't mine.

Sam, to his credit, didn't react right away, but I could feel the tension shift beside me.

"It's mine," he said casually, reaching for his plate like it was the most normal thing in the world. "She must have grabbed it when she woke up."

"And who exactly are you?" Dad asked, leaning forward.

I set my fork down, turning to watch my dad. "If it wasnt clear- and it may not have been with how we came in- he's my boyfriend."

The silence that followed was deafening. My dad's gaze flicked between me and Sam, his expression unreadable. My mom, on the other hand, just lifted her cup to her lips, watching with barely concealed amusement.

Sam, to his credit, didn't so much as flinch, though I could see the muscle in his jaw tighten just slightly. He exhaled evenly, then turned his attention to my dad. "Sir."

Dad let out a slow breath, nodding once, like he was piecing things together. "Boyfriend, huh?" His tone was level, but I could tell he was sizing Sam up.

"Yeah," I said, lifting my chin slightly. "He is."

Sam, still calm as ever, set his fork down. "I understand if that's surprising, but I—"

"Surprising isn't the word I'd use," Dad interrupted, eyes narrowing slightly. "You hunt?"

Sam's posture didn't change, but there was something just a little sharper in his expression. "Yeah. I have for a long time."

Dad hummed, like he was weighing the response. "And you know how to take care of her?"

Sam met his gaze evenly. "I do."

I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding.

Mom, still watching the exchange like it was the most entertaining thing she'd seen in months, finally spoke up. "Well, he's polite. And at least this one has manners."

I sighed heavily, while Sam had the nerve to smirk.

Dad sighed heavily, shaking his head as he pushed off the counter. "We'll see about that," he muttered.

Sam blinked, clearly not expecting that, and I barely stifled a laugh.

"Welcome to the family, babe," I murmured under my breath.

Sam shot me a sideways glance, amusement flickering in his eyes despite the tension still lingering in the air. "Guess I should've brought a gift," he murmured back.

"Yeah, like a bulletproof vest," I teased, nudging his knee under the table.

"Don't tempt me," Dad replied as he walked toward the back door. "I'll be outside."

Mom watched him go before turning her attention back to us. "Finish up and see if the other two want any."

Sam and I exchanged a quick glance before I sighed and stole a piece of bacon off of his plate. "I'll go see."

Sam picked up another bite of food like he wasn't about to be thrown to the wolves. "I'll be here... enjoying my last meal."

Mom smirked but said nothing, sipping her water.

Rolling my eyes, I made my way down the hall, stopping at the guest room. Knocking softly, I gently pushed the door open to find Dean and Eve still passed out, wrapped up in each other.

I hesitated in the doorway, taking in the scene before me. Dean was flat on his back, one arm slung around Eve's waist like it was the most natural thing in the world, while she had all but buried herself against his chest. Their breathing was slow, synchronized, completely at ease.

For two people who were supposedly not together, they sure as hell looked comfortable.

I lingered for a second longer than I should have, watching the way Eve's fingers curled slightly into Dean's shirt, like she was holding onto him even in sleep. Dean, for all his usual bravado, looked... peaceful. Like he wasn't carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for once.

Backing out of the room, I softly closed the door and made my way back to the kitchen where Sam was washing our plates. "They're still asleep."

Mom arched an eyebrow but didn't press, simply taking another sip of her water. "Let them rest, then. There's plenty of food if they want it later."

I leaned against Sam's side quietly watching. "You keep this up, mom won't let you leave."

Sam huffed out a small laugh, glancing down at me. "Figured it was the least I could do- get at least one of your parents to like me."

I smirked, leaning my head against his shoulder. "Dad's mostly all bark."

He arched an eyebrow. "Mostly?"

"Well... He hasn't thrown anything at you yet," I smiled lightly up at him, before stepping away as Dad came back in, crossing the kitchen on his way into the garage. The door slammed shut behind him, and I gave mom and confused look. "What did I do?!"

Mom sighed, setting her glass down with a soft clink. "It's not what you did, honey. It's who you brought home."

I frowned. "You mean Sam?"

Mom gave me a knowing look, tilting her head slightly. "Your father's got opinions, Bri. And you know how he is when it comes to... well, men in your life."

I scoffed, folding my arms. "Oh, come on, it's not like I bring home a new guy every other week. This is Sam. He's... different."

Sam, wisely, stayed quiet, but I could feel the tension in him as he dried his hands with a dish towel, his expression unreadable.

Mom exhaled, leaning forward slightly. "Your dad doesn't know him, and he doesn't like surprises. And, let's be honest, you showing up out of nowhere, looking like you haven't slept in weeks, with a guy you just declared as your boyfriend that we've never heard of? That's a surprise."

"What, and you're just accepting of it?" I shot at her.

Mom's lips pressed together, her gaze leveling me with a look that made my stomach twist. "Absolutely not—" she repeated, voice firm. "But I also know you, Bri. You've never been the type to let anyone tell you what to do. So, imagine my shock when you waltz in here, exhausted, with a man in tow, claiming he's your boyfriend like that's just something normal for you."

I bristled, arms tightening over my chest. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Mom sighed, rubbing at her temple. "It means that this isn't just about your father being protective. You know we've had expectations for you."

My stomach sank. "Expectations," I echoed, voice flat.

Mom's expression didn't waver. "You think your father and I haven't noticed? The way you've been avoiding home, dodging calls, always finding excuses to stay away? We gave you time, Bri. But you knew what was coming."

I clenched my jaw. "You can't be serious."

Mom's silence was answer enough.

I let out a sharp laugh, shaking my head in disbelief. "An arrangement, Mom? You and Dad actually think I'd go along with that?"

Sam tensed beside me, and I could feel his gaze flick between us, but he wisely stayed out of it.

Mom's lips pressed into a thin line. "We wouldn't have even considered it if you'd been honest with us. But you left, Bri. You disappeared for years, barely a word, and when you do come back, it's with him?" She gestured vaguely at Sam. "What were we supposed to think? That you'd settle down eventually? That you'd stop running?"

I exhaled sharply, trying to keep my voice steady. "I left because I had to."

Mom studied me, eyes searching mine for answers I couldn't give. "Had to," she repeated softly, as if testing the weight of the words.

"Yes. You and Dad try- but you don't understand what I went through. What I deal with everyday."

Mom's gaze flickered, something unreadable passing through her expression. "Then make me understand, Bri."

I clenched my jaw, shaking my head. "I can't."

Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Won't, you mean."

Frustration burned under my skin. "No, can't. Because if I told you, you'd never look at me the same way again. Neither would Dad."

Sam shifted beside me, the tension in his frame evident, but he stayed silent, letting me handle it.

Mom studied me carefully, eyes searching my face like she could pull the truth out by sheer will. "Bri... whatever it is, we're your parents. We've always wanted what's best for you."

I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Yeah? And that includes an arranged marriage?"

Her expression darkened slightly. "That was never meant to be a punishment. It was security. Stability. You don't have to like it, but your father and I—" She hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "We weren't sure if you'd ever come back. And we didn't know what else to do."

My stomach twisted. "So, you just decided to plan my whole life for me?"

Mom exhaled slowly, looking suddenly exhausted. "We thought we were doing what was right."

I dragged a hand through my hair, overwhelmed. "You really don't get it."

Mom's jaw tightened. "Then explain it to me."

I hesitated—just a fraction too long.

She shook her head, clearly seeing the wall I was keeping between us. "Your father's not going to let this go, Bri. And if you think he's just going to roll over and accept Sam because you say so, you're wrong."

I took a step back, feeling Sam at my back, his hand sliding around my waist. "Neither of you have to accept him. But I'm not walking away from him just to make you happy."

Mom's expression flickered, something between frustration and hurt crossing her face. "That's not what we're asking—"

"Isn't it?" I cut in, my voice sharper than I intended. "You wanted me to settle down with some guy I don't even know because it made you and Dad feel better. Because it was easier than accepting the fact that I've built a life outside of this house. Outside of you."

Sam's hand brushed against my lower back, a silent anchor, but he stayed quiet.

Mom inhaled slowly, regaining her composure. "It wasn't about making ourselves feel better, Bri. It was about making sure you were safe."

I scoffed. "Safe from what, exactly?" I threw my hands up, "You know what? I don't even care anymore. Tell whatever fucker you think I'm going to marry that it's not happening."

Mom stood up sharply, her gaze hard. "You will, or you will not be welcome in this house any longer."

I felt my heart skip a beat, the words landing like a slap to the face. The heat in my chest flared up again, but I swallowed it down, trying to steady my breath.

I took a step back, my voice barely above a whisper. "So that's it, huh? After everything, all these years, that's how you want to end it? You'd choose that over me?"

Mom's jaw clenched, but she didn't back down. "You don't understand the position you're putting us in, Bri. We just want what's best for you. I want you to have a future, a stable life. You can't keep running forever."

"I don't want your future," I snapped, the words escaping before I could stop them. "I don't want the life you've decided for me. I've been running for a reason, Mom. I'm not your version of safe. I don't want the damn box you want to put me in."

Sam stepped forward then, placing a hand gently on my arm, but his touch felt like it was grounding me in a way I couldn't quite explain. "Bri," he murmured quietly, his voice calm and low, "let's just take a step back for a second, alright?"

I turned toward him, my chest rising and falling with each breath, but my anger wasn't dissipating. I was beyond frustrated now—tired of being told what to do with my own life.

Mom looked at Sam, her eyes sharp, but I could see the cracks in her expression, the realization that this wasn't something she could control anymore.

"You're choosing him over your family?" Mom's voice faltered just a little, and I could feel the weight of it settle over me.

I glanced at Sam, then back at Mom, tears of frustration starting to prick at my eyes. "I'm choosing my freedom. If that cost's me my family..." I sighed, my voice trembling. "..then so be it."

Mom inhaled sharply, like my words had physically struck her. For a second, she didn't say anything—just stood there, staring at me like she was searching for something, some part of me that would back down, take it all back. But I didn't. I couldn't.

Sam's grip on my arm tightened slightly, grounding me, but he didn't speak. He knew this was something I had to face on my own.

Mom swallowed, her voice quieter now. "That's not what I want, Bri."

"Then don't make me choose," I whispered, my throat burning. "Because I won't change my mind."

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. For the first time, she looked... lost. Like she wasn't sure how we'd gotten here.

The back door creaked open, and Dad stepped inside, wiping grease from his hands with an old rag. He glanced between us, his expression darkening instantly. "What's going on?"

Mom hesitated, then turned to him, her voice wavering just enough for me to catch it. "She's refusing."

Dad's eyes landed on me, his jaw tightening. "Bri."

I lifted my chin, my hands balling into fists at my sides. "I'm not marrying some stranger, Dad."

His lips pressed into a thin line. "You'd throw away everything? Your home, your family—just for him?" His gaze flickered to Sam, filled with something dangerously close to contempt.

Sam stiffened beside me, but he stayed quiet.

I shook my head. "This isn't about Sam. This is about me. About my life. You don't get to control that anymore."

Dad exhaled through his nose, his shoulders squared like he was bracing for a fight. "You don't understand what you're giving up."

I let out a bitter laugh, shaking my head. "No, Dad. You don't understand what I've already lost."

For a moment, something flickered across his face—hesitation, maybe even regret—but it was gone just as quickly as it came. He nodded once, stiff and final. "Then you're not welcome here."

I took a deep breath, hiding how my heart broke at the words. "Okay," I nodded, turning away from them. "Get Dean and Eve. We're leaving."

As Sam disappeared down the hall, I turned back to my mom, half-hoping— half-praying— that she'd stop me. That she'd say something to make this feel less like the end. But she didn't. She just stood there, her expression guarded, her hands gripping the back of a chair like it was the only thing keeping her upright.

Footsteps echoed down the hall, and a moment later, Dean and Eve appeared, both of them still groggy, Eve rubbing sleep from her eyes. "What's going on?" she asked, looking between us, instantly sensing the tension.

"We're leaving," I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. "Now."

Dean frowned, glancing at Sam, who only gave a small shake of his head, a silent not now that Dean—thankfully—understood. Eve, still half-asleep, just blinked, then shrugged. "Okay."

Pausing in the doorway, I glanced back over at my parents. "I love you."

The moment we stepped outside, the air felt heavier, colder. My chest ached, but I kept walking.

The moment we reached the cars, the rumble of a diesel broke through the stiff air. A white F-350 crept up the driveway, pausing behind the cars.

"Where do you think you're going?" My grandpa called as he stepped out of his truck.

I met him halfway, accepting the bone-crushing hug. "Away. I'm not welcome here anymore."

Grandpa pulled back just enough to look me in the eye, his brow knitting together. "Not welcome?" His voice was gruff, but there was an edge of disbelief beneath it. He glanced past me toward the house, his expression darkening. "What the hell happened?"

I swallowed hard, my throat tight. "Dad-" I exhaled sharply, shaking my head. "They set up an arranged marriage. Dad doesn't approve of Sam. Of my choices. So he gave me one- stay and do what they want- or leave."

Grandpa's jaw tensed, and he let out a slow breath. "That stubborn son of mine," he muttered, rubbing his hand over his face before looking at me again. His eyes softened just a bit. "You sure about this?"

His gaze flickered to Sam, then to Dean and Eve, sizing them up the way he always did. Sam straightened slightly under the weight of it, but Grandpa just grunted. "You sticking by her?"

Sam met his eyes without hesitation. "Yes, sir."

Another grunt, then a nod. "If you need anything- you call me. You hear?"

I nodded, my throat tight. "Love you, Papa."

"Love you too, munchkin." he replied, giving me one more hug before turning back to his truck and getting in.

As he pulled away, I watched the taillights disappear down the road, something in my chest tightening.