written by: KariGorsuch

For a second, nobody spoke.

The only sound was the hum of the window rolling across the now empty road- and the distant groan of the damaged Impala as it settled into silence behind us.

Dean blinked. "I'm sorry. Did you just say Dad?"

Sam nodded once. "Bobby said he just walked in. No warning, no phone call. Just... showed up."

My eyes narrowed, remembering the last... encounter... with him. "And Bobby's sure its him?"

Sam's jaw clenched, gaze flicking between all of us. "He checked. Holy water. Silver. It's him."

Dean let out a disbelieving breath, dragging a hand down his face like the weight of it all was finally starting to pile high. "After everything, now he shows up?"

"Well, he put the fucking bounty out on Eve," I snapped, voice sharp and filled with too many things to name. "Forgive me if I'm not exactly rolling out the red carpet here."

Dean turned toward me, but didn't argue. He looked tired- pissed- but tired. "Yeah, I know."

"No, you don't." I stepped forward, eyes burning. "He marked her like she was property. Like a threat that needed to be hunted down, when she hasn't done a damn thing."

His jaw clenched, but he didn't lash back. Didn't have it in him, not with the truth sitting so raw infront of us.

"She's my best friend," I said, voice rising. "Not his project, not some fucking monster that needs to be destroyed."

"She's standing right here," Eve growled, her voice low and shaking with fury. "You don't get to talk about me like I'm not here. I haven't hurt anybody."

Dean shifted, uncomfortable. "Eve... Look, none of us are saying this is right. But we don't know why he's there. Maybe he's trying to undo it."

"You're kidding me, right?" I demanded, incredulous. "This isn't a fucking Hallmark movie, Dean. He doesn't get to just show up after sending the fucking hunter community after Eve, and get a fucking redemption arc."

"You think I'm okay with what he did?" he shot back, voice low and hard. "You think I like the fact that he put a bounty on her?"

"Then why are you giving him a pass? Why are you still trying to make excuses for him?" I fired.

"I'm not-" Dean's hands came up, frustrated. "But he's our Dad."

"Oh, and that makes everything he's done suddenly okay." Eve's voice cracked like thunder from where she was standing by the Impala. "That gives him a free pass to dehumanize people? To decide who gets to live and die?"

Sam stepped in, calm but firm, trying to cut through the storm. "Nobody's saying it's okay. But right now, Bobby says he's there. And that means he knows something- or wants something."

"Yeah," I muttered, pacing over to the Impala and attempting to open the trunk. "He wants Eve dead. So if you and Dean are so worried about what he wants, by all fucking means. Go."

Dean's expression darkened. "That's not fair."

"No?" I spun back on him, trunk forgotten. "Because it feels real fucking fair from where I'm standin'. He wants her dead. He doesn't even know her- not really. And he's just decided she's some villain in his story that needs to be erased."

"I'm not defending him," Dean snapped. "I'm trying to keep us alive."

"By sidin' with someone who would see Eve as a goddamn trophy kill?" My voice cut like glass, thick with a drawl I hadn't used in years. "You think he won't come for me once he figures out about Big Eve? Easiest way to stop her is takin' out the damn vessel. And thats me, Dean."

Deans jaw clenched but he didn't argue. Didn't deny it.

I kept going, heat rising in my chest like wildfire. "He already put a price on her head. You think he'll blink before puttin' a bullet in mine?"

Dean's jaw ticked, his mouth opening like he had something to say. He just stood there, fists clenched, eyes dark with something between guilt and disbelief.

"Well?" I snapped. "Ain't got nothin' to say to that?"

He dragged his hand over his face, shoulders stiff. "You think I'd ever let that happen?"

I stepped closer, eyes burning. "Ain't about what you'd let happen, Dean. It's about what he already tried to do. He put a fuckin' target on her back, and I'm next if he connects the dots. So don't stand there actin' like this is some family reunion gone wrong- we're past that."

Dean looked like I slapped him. And maybe I had, just not with my hands.

Eve stepped forward, her voice low but laced with steel. "He doesn't get to decide who I am. Not now, not ever."

Dean didn't meet her eyes. His hands dropped to his sides, but his shoulders didn't drop. They were locked in place- caught between loyalty and reality.

"Y'all can sit here and pretend he's got some buried heart of gold," I continued, the words falling harder now. "But I ain't riskin' her life- or mine- just 'cause he's your daddy."

"Damnit, Bri," Dean muttered. "You don't get to lay everything at his feet. He's made mistakes, yeah, hell-sized ones, but he's trying to-"

"To what? To fix it?" I snapped. "You're trying to fix it. You're the one running around cleaning up after him like some broken soldier with a hero complex, and for what? Some shred of affection?"

He stepped forward, close enough that I could feel the heat of his temper, that sharp rage that was barely contained. "You think I like this? You think I'm just dying for Dad to show up and take the wheel again?"

"I think you want to believe he's better than he is," I spat, "'cause the second you stop, you've got no excuse left for all the shit you swallowed growin' up."

His eyes flicked away like I'd hit a nerve. I didn't care.

"And you," I turned on Sam now, fire still rolling off my shoulders. "You gonna chime in? Or you just gonna keep lookin' at me like you didn't have a clue?"

Sam's jaw was tight, his voice even but hard. "What do you want me to say, Bri? That I agree with what he did? I don't. That I'm okay with the bounty on Eve? I'm not. But we don't have the luxury of falling apart right now."

"Oh, I'm sorry," I said bitterly. "Am I not being tactical enough for you, Sam? Should I schedule my emotional breakdown between Bobby's phone calls and the next hunter ambush? How does next week sound?"

Eve shifted beside the Impala, her arms crossed, chin up like she was bracing for a punch. "You don't get to take this out on me, Bri."

I turned, the fire suddenly turning to ice in my gut. "I'm not-"

"Yes, you are," she cut in, voice low, razor sharp. "You think I wanted this? That I asked for any of it? You said I was your best friend- but the second it got hard you started backing away."

"That's not fair-"

"Isn't it?" she snapped, stepping forward. "You're scared. I get that. But don't stand there pretending this is just about me being a target. You're terrified of all this shit with Eve- and what it means that she wants you. You're blaming everybody but the one person who really terrifies you."

I didn't speak. Couldn't.

Because I knew exactly who that person was.

Me.

My throat burned as I looked at the three of them, and suddenly I couldn't breathe right- couldn't see straight.

I took a shaky step back. "I didn't... I didn't ask for any of this."

"Now you're stuck with it," Dean said quietly, his earlier anger subsiding. "And now you've got to decide what the hell you're gonna do with it."

I shook my head, backing away like the distance could save me. "I don't know how to fight this. I don't know how to be the thing that's being hunted and still protect the people I-"

I broke off. Swallowed hard.

Too close. Too much.

"I can't lose you," I sad instead, voice cracking as I looked at Dean, then Eve. "Any of you. If I'm the reason this goes sideways- I won't survive it."

I risked a glance at Sam. "I've already lost you once. I can't do that again. I- I won't be the reason.."

Sam's eyes locked on mine, and I could see it- every once of what he wanted to say. The fight, the plea, the heartbreak he was trying to hold together. But for once, he didn't interrupt. He just let me unravel.

"I won't be the reason you die," I finished, barely above a whisper. "Not again."

The air felt thick and heavy. Like we were standing inside the eye of a storm we couldn't see yet but all felt coming.

"You think we haven't all been one bad moment from breaking?" Dean cut in, quiet now, but with that worn-out, battle-scarred grit only he could pull off. "Newsflash, sweetheart, every one of us has been the crack in something. That doesn't mean you let it win."

"Easy for you to say," I muttered, voice brittle. "You've had years to carry that weight. I've had days. Weeks, maybe."

Dean stepped forward, just a half-step, but it hit like a shot fired. "And I'm still standing, aren't I? Still here. Still fighting. You think that means it hurts less?"

I looked away, jaw clenched, trying to keep from shaking. "It means you're used to it."

"No," he said, sharp now. "It means I've had to learn how to bleed without falling apart. It means I know what it feels like to want to disappear just so no one else gets caught in the fallout."

I couldn't help it- I barked out a humorless laugh. "Then why the hell are you still standin' next to me? Why are either of you?"

"Because thats what we do," Dean snapped. "We don't leave people behind just 'cause they might break. We don't run just because it gets hard."

"Maybe you should!" I shouted, finally spinning on him. "Maybe that's the one way this doesn't end in blood!"

"That's not your call to make!" Sam's voice rose behind me, sharp and frayed at the edges. "You don't get to decide that for us- especially not by pushing us out before anything's even happened!"

"Oh you're one to talk! You did this same fuckin' shit in Tennessee!"

Sam recoiled like I'd slapped him. "That's not the same-"

"The hell it ain't!" I cut him off, eyes blazing. "You made the same fuckin' decision, that I'd be safer without you! So don't you dare stand there and act like that was different."

"I did that to protect you!" Sam shouted, voice cracking under the weight of it. "You were in the crosshairs because of me!"

"And now it's flipped, isn't it?" I snapped, pointing at myself. "Now I'm the target, and suddenly everyone wants to play the goddamn martyr!"

Dean stepped between us, voice loud, thunder in his chest. "Enough! This is what they want. You think it's a coincidence you two are going at it right after the Trickster pulled open all your worst fears and left the door wide open? They're banking on you tearing each other apart."

Eve stood just off to the side, arms crossed, jaw tight, silent until now. "Yeah, well, maybe they don't have to work that hard. You're all doing a damn good job without them."

That hit like ice water. Sam went still. Dean's mouth snapped shut. I didn't move.

"I didn't ask to be a part of this," Eve muttered, voice low but cutting. "Didn't ask to be a name that everyone knows. I sure as hell didn't ask to be turned."

I looked at her then, and the fury started to fade. Just a little. Enough to let something softer crack through. "Eve..."

"No," she said sharply. "You wanna push people away? Fine. You wanna blow this whole thing up before it starts? That's your call. But don't you dare act like you're the only one scared."

I didn't answer. I couldn't. The weight of everything sat like a stone in my chest, and for once, I couldn't outrun it with words.

I turned, walked back to the Impala, boots crunching on gravel as my hands moved on autopilot, dragging my duffle from the backseat. I slung it over my shoulder with more force than necessary, the bag slamming into my back.

Dean said something behind me- my name, maybe- but I didn't stop. I walked past him, past Eve, past the emotional crater we'd all just left in the dirt.

"I'll meet y'all at the safe house," I muttered, more to the wind than anyone. "Don't wait up."

"Bri-" Sam started.

"Don't."

I didn't look back.

The road stretched out in front of me, empty and humming with heat. I adjusted the strap on my shoulder, and kept walking.

The silence was loud, but it was mine. For the first few steps, that was enough.

Until it wasn't.

Footsteps crunched behind me a minute later, sharper, faster. I didn't turn, just sighed. "Don't you have something better to do than follow me?"

"Yeah," Eve snapped. "Like punch Dean. But this felt more productive."

I huffed, not quite a laugh.

She caught up, walking beside me now, steps clipped and angry. "What the hell was that back there?"

"Which part?" I asked flatly. "The screaming match? The attempted guilt trip? The hunter hit-men? Or the part where the demon horde is probably already on our asses?"

Eve rolled her eyes. "Don't play dumb. I mean you. The self-destruct parade you started in the hotel, and threw in the road."

I didn't answer right away, just kept walking, boots crunching on the loose gravel.

"You went nuclear on Sam in the hotel, blindsided Dean- and you're trying to walk away like it fixes anything."

"It's better if I'm not around-"

"No," she snapped, cutting me off. "It's easier. Not better. You think leaving fixes anything? You think they'll stop caring just because you're gone?"

"I think it's the only way to keep them breathing."

She scoffed. "God, you sound just like him."

That stopped me. "Excuse me?"

"Dean," she bit out. "Always walking away, throwing himself on grenades like it's noble. Like breaking everyone around you is some kind of sacrifice worth making."

I stopped walking, turning just enough to face her. "And what, you want me to stay? Let her find a way in? Let Sam die because I was too selfish to leave when I should've?"

Eve stepped right into my space, eyes flashing. "No. I want you to stop pretending you're the only goddamn piece on the board."

Her voice shook- not with fear, but fury barely held together. "You think you're protecting us? You're not. You're gambling. You're betting that isolation is safer than trust, the silence is strength. And newsflash- it's not."

I opened my mouth, but she didn't let me speak.

"You're not selfish, Bri. You're scared. And so am I. So is Sam. So is Dean. But you don't get to burn the bridge just because you think it's gonna fall down anyway."

I looked away, throat burning. "You don't get it."

She scoffed. "No? I'm a fucking monster. I'm the name written on a bounty board by your almost-father-in-law. And I'm still walking next to a ticking time bomb that I would still take a bullet for. So don't tell me I don't get it."

"Almost-father-in-law? We're not-" I started, heat flooding my face.

Eve arched a brow, her glare going razor-sharp. "Really? That's what you focus on? Okay- fine, we'll go with this. You gonna lie to me and yourself right now? After all that?"

"Im not lying," I snapped. "There's nothing official, nothing even... defined."

"No, just intense brooding, near-death confessions, and enough emotional tension to flatten a small town," she fired back. "But sure, let's pretend this is casual."

"I think you mean emotional trauma," I groaned, dragging a hand down my face as we resumed walking. "This isn't about that."

"It's exactly about that," she said, stepping off beside me. "Because you keep pretending the connection doesn't matter. Like walking away will make it all less real, less dangerous. But the danger's already here, Bri. It's already in you."

My chest twisted and my feet slowed. "You think I don't know that?"

"Then stop acting like it's everyone else you're trying to protect. You're not just scared she'll use Sam against you. You're scared you'll let her."

Eve's words hit like a gut punch—too sharp, too accurate, and way too loud, even though her voice was barely above a whisper.

I stopped walking.

The gravel shifted under my boots, but the world itself felt too still. Like time had hit pause long enough for every word to sink bone-deep.

"You think I want that?" I asked, quiet but burning. "You think I haven't laid awake every damn night since Cold Oak, scared out of my goddamn mind that one wrong second—one weak second—is all it's gonna take to destroy everything I love?"

Eve didn't flinch. "No. I think you've already decided you're a liability. And I think that's the biggest lie you're carrying."

I shook my head, eyes stinging. "You weren't there. You didn't see what I almost said yes to. Azazel offered me a world with him back, whole and safe, and I wanted it. I wanted it so bad I'm still scared the wanting alone was enough to leave a crack behind."

Eve's voice softened, but it didn't lose its edge. "Then stop pretending you didn't survive that. You didn't say yes. You didn't take the deal. And that matters, Bri. It matters more than you want to admit."

I looked away, jaw clenched, fingers tightening around my duffle. "Yeah, but what if next time I do?"

She stepped in close again, her gaze unwavering. "Then we stop you. That's the point. That's what having people means. You think Sam wouldn't die to save you? You think Dean wouldn't burn the world down first?"

"That's exactly the problem!" I snapped, voice cracking under the weight of it all. "If I can push him away, she can't use him against me. Because if she pushes hard enough, if she threatens the people I care about—I don't trust myself not to hand over the keys and beg her to just let you live."

Eve's eyes didn't soften this time. She didn't back down, didn't flinch—she stepped in again, fire and grit in her voice. "And you think you're the only one who's ever felt that kind of fear? You think you're the only one who'd rather die than see someone you care about ripped apart?"

I looked away, jaw clenched, throat aching. But she wasn't done.

"You think I don't wake up with that same panic in my chest? Every night wondering if tomorrow's the day I lose control and become the monster? If tomorrow's the day I look at Dean, or Sam, or you, and I can't stop myself from doing something unforgivable?"

She took a breath, voice dropping low but fierce. "But running, pushing away, locking everyone out? That's how she wins. Not by breaking us—by breaking you. This driving everyone away bullshit? It's going to get us all killed."

I winced like she'd stuck me- because maybe she had. Not with her fists, but with truth. Cold, brutal, and too goddamn familiar.

"I don't know how to stop," I said, chest heaving. "I don't know how to not keep people at arm's length when every instinct is screaming at me to burn the bridge before someone uses it to get to me."

"Then learn," she said sharply, stepping right into my space again. "Because we're not walking away. Not Dean. Not Sam. Not me. So either figure out how to let us fight with you, or get real comfortable with the idea that she's already halfway through the damn door."

I didn't speak. Couldn't.

Eve held my stare for a second longer, then backed off—not in defeat, but to give me air.

We stood in silence, the road stretching ahead like a challenge neither of us knew how to meet. Finally, she nodded toward the horizon.

"Come on," she muttered. "Let's get to the damn safe house before someone else decides to ruin the night."

I didn't say anything. Just slung the duffle higher on my shoulder and started walking.

The safehouse wasn't much to look at from the outside- just an old stone farmhouse nestled into the foothills outside Milan, its shutters sagging and the gravel drive barely passable. The kind of place that screamed forgotten but still watched everything.

The porch light was out.

Figures.

Eve reached the front steps first, her boots thudding heavily against the warped wood. I hesitated half a breath behind her, duffle slung over my shoulder, the weight of the walk and the fight dragging behind me like a second shadow.

She didn't knock. Just opened the door and stepped inside like she belonged there.

The air was cooler. Still. Dusty, but not dead.

Dean was in the living room, leaning against the arm of an ancient plaid couch that had definitely seen blood and bourbon. His arms were crossed, jaw tight- but the second he saw us, his shoulders dropped half an inch. Relief, maybe. Not that he'd say it.

Sam stood in the kitchen, phone in one hand, eyes flicking up from a stack of papers Bobby must've faxed. His gaze caught mine for only a second before it dropped again, back in whatever intel he was skimming.

Neither one of them said anything at first.

Good.

I didn't have it in me for round two.

Dean exhaled through his nose. "Took you long enough."

"Some of us walked," Eve deadpanned, brushing past him and tossing her bag near the door.

"We got here about a half hour ago," Sam said without looking up. "The Impala's in rough shape, but not totaled."

"At least something's gone right," I muttered under my breath.

Dean gave me a long look, not quite cold but cautious. "You okay?"

I didn't answer right away. Just set my duffle down gently beside Eve's, like if I moved too fast, something in me might fracture again. I met his eyes, gave a half-nod. "Still breathing."

"Good," Dean ran a hand through his hair, then pushed off the couch with a quiet grunt and disappeared into the kitchen without another word. "Try to keep it that way."

I turned toward the living room window, needing something to look at that wasn't Sam's downturned face or Dean's disappointment. Outside, the hills were dark and unmoving, the sky still too heavy with the kind of silence that ment wasn't far.

Eve crossed her arms and leaned against the wall, her expression unreadable for once. "Cozy little family retreat," she muttered dryly.

Sam looked up at that, finally, like he was deciding whether or speak or swallow it. He opted for something in between. "Bobby says the place should hold, at least for a few days. Wards are fresh. No signs of activity nearby. We're off-grid."

"Until we're not," I said, and immediately hated how tired I sounded.

Sam's lips pressed into a thin line. "We'll deal with it when it comes."

"That's your answer to everything, isn't it?" I asked, turning to face him now, exhaustion sharpening into something harder. "Deal with it. Survive it. Pretend like the fallout doesn't bury us."

Dean stepped back into the room with a half-eaten sandwich and a look that said he'd heard more than I wanted him to. "It's worked so far."

"Has it?" I fired back. "Because from where I'm standing, all I see is a trail of damage and dead weight we can't outrun."

Eve shifted slightly, like she was waiting for the explosion. Dean didn't disappoint.

"You wanna list mistakes, sweetheart? Fine. But don't pretend like you're the only one carrying any of it."

Sam stood up straighter in the kitchen, sensing it coming, but he didn't step in—yet.

"Let's list them. I'll go first. My first mistake was ever thinking it was a coincidence that your brother was flirting with me the first time I ever met him. My second mistake is following you guys back after the Grande issue."

Dean's brows shot up, the half-eaten sandwich lowering slowly like even it knew to duck. "Oh, we're doing this now?" he said, his voice low and edged.

"You wanted a list," I said, shrugging like my heart wasn't pounding. "You don't get to be surprised when it's not flattering."

Sam's voice cut in, measured but strained. "Bri—"

"No," I snapped, eyes flicking to him just long enough to silence whatever buffer he was trying to throw in. "He asked. I'm answering."

I turned back to Dean, jaw tight. "My third mistake? Sleeping with your brother."

Dean didn't flinch—but something behind his eyes shifted. A flash of something sharp and bitter, tempered by the slow burn of years spent burying worse.

Sam didn't speak either. Just stood there, still and tense, like he'd forgotten how to breathe.

I kept going. Couldn't stop now, even if I wanted to. The dam had cracked wide open, and the flood wasn't waiting for permission.

"My fourth mistake?" I said, stepping forward, heat licking under every word. "Thinking it could mean something. Thinking maybe, maybe, this time I could mean something, we could mean something, to someone."