Chapter XI - Carry On Wayward Son [Part II]

"No!" Dean yelled as he threw his leather jacket to the ground. His black v-neck t-shirt stuck to his chest from the rain.

Crazed look in his eyes, he backed away from the railing a few steps. Sam quickly stepped in front of Dean as he raced towards the edge. Sam stuck his arms out and caught his brother, nearly collapsing under the force of Dean. Dean tried clawing past him, Sam pulled his arms to Dean's stomach, pushing him back with all the force he could.

"Are you friggin' insane?" Sam yelled, looking at his brother. His hands jutted out at his sides. He was the only thing standing between Dean and the bottom of the river.

"Sam, let me through." Dean growled, clenching his fists. His biceps flexed, anger shaking his arms.

"What are you planning to do, anyways?" Sam asked, running a hand through his wet hair. The rain was slowly dissipating. "Jumping in will kill you too. Dean... look, I know you care about her, I do too, but she's gone. I'm sorry."

"You can't know that... may-maybe she's pulling through down there and just needs some help. Sam, if there's something we can do... we have to try. She doesn't deserve to leave like this. It was going to be alright. She was going to be with us," Dean said, trailing off at the end. His voice cracked with his last sentence. Sam bit his cheek, knowing that Dean was close to losing it. He couldn't let his brother lose it.

"Dean, do you know how high this bridge is?" Sam whispered, "No one could have survived a fall like that. No one."

"Sammy..." Dean trailed off. "This is my fault. I have to try and save her."

Sam sighed, looking at Dean with his big, doughy eyes, "Dean, you gotta know that there was nothing you could do."

"Everything was going to be alright, Sam. And I ruined it. I dropped her. That's on me." Dean looked at Sam, swallowing hard. His body was shaking, attempting to hold his anger and tears inside. "T-that's on me..." He whispered. "And hell if I'm letting her die because of me!" He snapped, trying to get to the edge of the bridge again. His strength was nearly overwhelming to Sam, but Sam knew he had to keep Dean with him.

"Dean, listen to me." Sam said, his voice barely above a whisper. "This isn't your fault. There was nothing you could do. She slipped, that was just piss poor luck. You convinced her to get down in the first place. Do you know how hard that is? You snapped her out of it. You. I sure as hell couldn't have done that. That was all you. You did everything right."

"Then why is she at the bottom of the river, Sammy? Why is she not getting in the car putting on some friggin' boy band song? Why are we still standing here? How could I have done everything right, but we're having this conversation?" Dean asked, tears sliding down his tender cheeks.

"It was out of your hands, Dean," Sam said. He realized his poor choice of words after he'd said it.

Dean let out a hollow, emotionless chuckle. "Yeah, something like that." He shook his head, turning away. He snatched his jacket off of the ground and walked away from Sam in the direction the boys had come from. He rubbed his eyes roughly with one hand.

Sam sighed and jogged to catch up to him. He knew better than to say anything that would upset Dean.  Dean sniffled and looked away from where Sam could see him. Sam just needed to make sure that Dean didn't do anything stupid. That included going into the river. Instead of going back to the car like Sam expected him to, Dean went onto a manmade path that lead to a riverbank. Sam sighed softly, but didn't argue.

The boys walked along the dirt in silence, the river slowly became louder. Dean didn't stop walking. The river was clear, water flowing as if what had just happened was imaginary. The way Dean's body felt, numb and hollow... Dean knew it wasn't a dream. This was the sick, harsh reality of his rotten, useless life. Everyone he loved dies.

Dean was hit with another punch of guilt as he crouched at the edge of the riverbank. He loved Leila.  He realized that then. She was a mixture of him and Sam. Mostly him, Sam never would have watched Back to the Future as many times as Leila did. Dean crouched down at the edge of the riverbank. He ran his hand through the water, and frowned. He picked up what he felt and closed his hand around it.

"Kid, I'm so sorry," Dean whispered, hanging his head.

*****

The wind whipped Leila's hair around as she fell. She didn't scream. She didn't cry. She had lost her voice, left it in the wind somewhere above her. She felt herself reaching back to the top of the bridge, but she knew there was no hope at return. The water hit her like a brick wall, her limbs numb from the contact. She thrashed around under the water, trying to find the surface. Pain seized her arms and legs, the sharp pain making each movement heavier than the last. Each attempted breath hurt more and more.

Water filled her mouth, she coughed. She could feel the water building up in her lungs, and she couldn't get it out. Water on top of water tangled her chest up in a knot and breath escaped her. Leila looked up, she could see the surface, but it was so far. Too far for her limbs to swim. Too far to be pulled back in. Leila was too far gone. Her hand reached up, eyes peeled open, trying to reach the surface. But her body continued sinking. Leila's eyes slowly closed, and one final cough left her full lungs. Leila thought she was drowning in her own thoughts before. Lord, was she wrong. Actual drowning was much, much worse. Leila could feel each part as it shut down. Slowly, savagely, pulling her deep into the unknown.

She was clocking out for good. Her one regret pooled into her brain. The water was heavy, but her mind was a buzz. Leila wished she'd gotten to say goodbye to Dean. Goodbye to the man that saved her. She thought the note would've been enough, but it wasn't. A note cannot contain all the things she wanted to say to Dean Winchester. Slipping from the railing was her fault, but she could bet her ass that Dean was going to blame himself. If heaven had an escape route, she was sure as hell coming back to slap Dean if he treated himself horribly after the whole thing was over. She'd find a way to slap him as a ghost, because at least he'd know she was there. The voices were quiet, they knew they had won.

A bright white circle appeared ahead of her, and Leila knew what was next. This was it. Her final moments. The circle became bigger, brighter and closer. Leila could make out a shadowed figure standing in the circle, Leila couldn't see any features whatsoever. The figure stretched their hand out, Leila stretched her aching arm towards them. Leila began to make out features, when her vision flashed white.

Her breath caught in her throat and after few sparring seconds, she coughed and sputtered. Each cough sent water flying out of her mouth. Her hands and knees pressed into the dirt, and the cold night air brought goose bumps to her skin. Breathing hoarse, she opened her eyes and looked around. Trees surrounded her, but the rain had stopped. The river rushed beside her, calm as ever.

Two figures caught the corner of her eye, and she turned to look at them. One she recognized, the other one was a stranger. She coughed once again, pushing herself to stand up.

"Cas, what the hell?" Leila asked, looking at the trench coated angel.

"It's quite complicated, Leila." Castiel replied, "It might take a while to make it so you fully understand what happened ton-"

"Oh, please," the other man said, stepping forwards. He had golden blonde hair that reached just past his ears and wore an olive green coat that stretched a tad past his hips. "Listen, Goldilocks, here's the big picture. Up in heaven we have a system. And sometimes, the system gets broken. That Saint that went and killed herself broke our system. You, my friend, are going to help heaven get the system back in tact. Are you with me so far?"

Leila shook her head slowly, scanning over the man. How did someone talk so fast? "I'm sorry, who are you supposed to be?" She asked, frowning.

"I'm-" He began. A smirk pulled the corner of his lips. His hands had been out at his sides, but he pushed them into his jean pockets. He casually stood with his hips to one side, opposite leg bent. His eyes were like sun shining through a glass of whiskey.

"His name's Gabriel." Castiel replied, cutting him off. "He's an archangel with a tendency to lie through his teeth for his own entertainment. Though I promise you that this is the truth... Well, the quick truth."

"And how did I get out of that river? I felt myself drowning, I was done. I couldn't breathe." Leila asked. There was a tug at her lungs, as if she were under the water once again.

"That would be me," Gabriel raised his hand into the air and wiggled his fingers. "You weren't a hundred percent dead yet, so you don't get a cool handprint like your friend Dean-o, but I did pull you out from the brink of death and get you on the riverbank. You're welcome."

"Yeah, uh, thanks," Leila mumbled. She looked to Castiel, hoping that he could hurry the conversation up. She hugged her stomach

"Gabriel, I think that this conversation needs to continue. We're running out of time," Castiel replied.

Gabriel nodded, then snapped his fingers. The river stopped rushing down the banks, the stars stopped twinkling in the night sky. Everything just... stopped. "There we go, we got all the time in the world now. You're welcome."

"Unlike her, I am not thanking you," Castiel snarled, rolling his eyes slightly.

"Anyways, as I was saying," Gabriel continued, ignoring Castiel's comment. "Basically, this Saint needs a vessel. Normally, vessels are alive, but from the freaky deeky-" Castiel elbowed Gabriel in the side, glowering at him. "From the events we've seen over the last month or so from you, we decided that, should you choose to accept, you'd be the best choice of vessel. Mostly because if something were to happen and you needed to switch back to being Goldilocks, you'd know how to handle a situation as well as Dymphna could."

"Wait, you want me to let some spirit take over my body?" Leila asked, aiming her question more towards Castiel than Gabriel. "Like, I wouldn't be myself, I'd be Dymphna instead?"

"Considering what you were about to do up there, Goldie, I'm pretty sure that this is the better option." Gabriel blurted out. With that remark, he received another blow to the stomach from Castiel.

"You would still be conscious as Leila, but your brain would be taken over by Dymphna whenever she would need to have a human form. Which, considering humanity within the last decade, could be quite often." Castiel explained, hoping Leila understood.

"Does that mean you guys have other people living in your head?" Leila asked.

"It's different for angels. We-" Castiel began.

"We're basically just wearing humans as meat suits." Gabriel replied, cutting Castiel off again. Leila noted he did that a lot. "The human has to consent to us living in their body, but after that they can only really see what's going on. They can't talk or control anything."

"Meat suit? That sounds a bit evil," Leila said, wrinkling her nose. She wiped her dirty hands on her pants.

"Demonic, actually." Castiel replied. "Normally we just refer to them as vessels, but Gabriel doesn't really... work like everyone else." He looked pointedly at his brother.

"I'm kind of the rebel of heaven," Gabriel mused, tilting his head to the side. The smirk never left his lips.

Castiel raised his eyebrows, sighing softly. "If you were to say yes to Dymphna, you'd be able to switch back and forth to your conscious self."

Leila held her head, "God. You guys are so confusing." She thought about the Saint, all that was needed was her body. She looked at her arms. Like the rest of her, they were scarred, but still good.  But slowly, she nodded her head.

Gabriel snapped his fingers and the river flowed again. He knew they had Leila. The trio heard rustles in the bushes near them, and they looked up.  Gabriel snapped his fingers once again. The bushes rustled and there appeared Dean Winchester. Jacket in hand, tears on his cheeks. His dirty blonde hair was still soaked and sticking to his forehead.

"Dean!" Leila said, waving her hand. The elder Winchester didn't respond. Leila frowned, "Dean?"

"I'm afraid he can't hear you," Castiel said softly. His eyes told Leila how sorry he was that the three couldn't be seen. Bright blue orbs that said so much.

Sam walked through the brush, hands swaying at his sides.  Dean crouched at the edge of the riverbank. Leila knew what she could do. She pulled off her Celtic knot necklace, putting it into the river in front of Dean. She looked at Gabriel, who nodded and snapped his fingers. Dean dipped his hand into the water, right where Leila had placed the necklace. He frowned, picking it up. As soon as he realized what it was, he hung his head.

"Kid, I'm so sorry," Dean said, his voice barely a whisper. He held the necklace in his tight grip, running his thumb along the knotted pendant. "You're gone and it's my fault."

I'm right here, she wanted to scream. But she knew that they were both too far gone. She could see every freckle on his face, every line and curve. His teary green eyes. The faint claw mark that her paranoia had left on him. Leila tried putting her hand on his cheek, but it went right through. Leila hung her head, sniffling softly. Dean shifted so that he was sitting on a large rock.

"I tried to get you back, an-and I guess I did for a second... But that's just not enough, is it?" Dean shook his head, pulling the necklace over his ears and letting it fall against his chest. "I just..." Dean sighed. "You know you didn't deserve this, right? Hell, you didn't deserve to die, period. God, I mean, you were only seventeen... Only seven freaking teen. You had so much to live for... so damn much."

Dean's lip trembled, he shook his head. He closed his eyes, Leila could see tears fall onto his lap and roll down his cheeks. "I tried so hard to keep you from going over the edge. But I guess it wasn't enough, was it? You deserved so much better than what cards were dealt your way. Kid, I just want you to know..." Dean swallowed hard, croaking his final words.

He reached for his jacket, pulling out a piece of paper and a string. He flattened the paper out on his knee. Dear Sam and Dean... he read, and shook his head. In his hands was her last requests; and he'd broken both of them. Dean shook his head, grabbing a decent sized rock. He wrapped the note around the rock and used the string to keep it tight to the rock. He stood up, rock in his hand. He gripped the rock tightly, bringing it close to his mouth. He closed his eyes and let out a breath. Opening his eyes, the elder Winchester heaved the rock into the river. Dean shook, collapsing back onto the rock. Elbows rested on his thighs, he put his head in his hands. His shoulders shook for the loss of the teenage runaway.

In that instance, Leila knew she needed to find a way to get back to Dean. And she would be damned if she didn't get to smack him for blaming himself for her falling. Wherever the Saint took her, Leila vowed she would find the Winchesters. No matter what the consequences were. No matter who was calling the shots. No matter what life was going to throw at her. She was going to find the Winchesters, even if it was her dying breath.

Leila looked at Gabriel, "I'll do it."

Any way the wind blows... ☥

*****

A.N. That's all, folks! Vote/ comment/ fan! Final AN will be posted by the time you read this!

- Thalia