The nighttime wind whistled just outside. A warm light illuminated from a lamp –which sat atop a small table next to the couch–, casting soft shadows against the walls. A blanket and pillow sat in her arms, as she extended them outwards for him to take. Once he gratefully accepted them, she brushed her hair out of her face and began to speak.
Ashley: I'm sorry that you have to sleep out here on the couch tonight. I hope that it'll still be comfy for you. Especially after all that you've been through.
Ashley (Inner): I can't even look him in the eyes. How can my brain just trick me into feeling like I'm in love, when I'm not? Why does it not work with me when I need it to? It's like it understands everything about me, but won't reveal the secrets for some reason.
The carpet rustled quietly as her sock began to rub against it. With eyes pointed downward, her right hand covered some of the bandage on her left arm, like Dean hadn't already seen it earlier in the day.
A relaxing smell filled the air in the living room, radiating off of Ashley, as she had just taken a shower less than an hour ago. There was a cozy feeling Dean got when looking at her. Damp, unbrushed hair weaved and clumped together, sticking to her skin. The pink and purple hair at the bottom dripped on her shirt every now and then. She didn't seem to mind. Or maybe she just didn't notice. A solid black shirt draped down her upper body, but stopping right before reaching the hem of her pajama pants, revealing just a little skin on her belly. Dean didn't notice, as he didn't want to examine her whole body like a weirdo. As for Ashley, she just didn't care. She liked the shirt.
Dean: No it's fine. The couch I've been sleeping on was far worse than this.
Her eyes lingered on him as he spoke. His back was turned towards the couch, focusing on setting up a little bed for himself. The moment he turned back around, her eyes snapped shut. For a few seconds, all she could hear was the muffled sounds of the night, and her own breathing.
Dean: You good?
Slowly opening her eyes, she faced Dean. His face was normal. Nothing special. The sight of it didn't make her feel anything, which made her wonder why she was so afraid to look just seconds ago. However, his concerned expression –although barely noticeable– made her feel a little warm.
Ashley (Inner): I look weird, don't I?
Ashley: Yep. I'm all good, sorry.
The cushions of the couch folded and rustled as he plopped down. With feet planted onto the carpet, he leaned forward, resting his chin in his palms. It's a pose that gives off a vibe of attentiveness, like he's there to listen as his eyes move up to face her.
Dean: You sure?
Her arms dropped, swinging slightly for a few seconds. The world fell silent as the two stared into each other's eyes. Possible answers raced through Ashley's head, as she tried to find the perfect response. But there wasn't one. The silence only dragged on, becoming more awkward with each second. Despite this, Dean remained in his pose, like a stiff triangle. Giving her his full attention until she was ready to speak.
Ashley: I wouldn't lie about that. I'm just very high strung today. For obvious reasons.
Dean: Okay.
He still felt concerned, and a little skeptical. Still, he decided to drop it, knowing that pestering her right now isn't a good idea. Upon finishing his train of thought, he sits up almost perfectly straight. Unsure of where his hands should go, he reluctantly overlaps them in between his legs. When Ashley opens her mouth for a moment to speak, he tilts his head a little and raises his eyebrows ever so slightly, motioning her to continue.
Ashley: Did you want to take a shower? Your clothes must be fairly dirty too. I wouldn't mind washing them. If you're comfortable with wearing my clothes that is.
A pink flair slowly spreads across Ashley's cheeks. But she maintains fierce eye contact, wanting to show how her blush isn't because of romantic feelings. By this point however, Dean feels like he understands why she blushes, and doesn't pay any attention to it. Even so, the idea of wearing her clothes does make him excited in a way, but he does feel gross about it. Something about wearing someone else's clothes doesn't sit right with him, especially since it's a girl. But he doesn't show his thoughts. His face and body remain perfectly still. Unfazed. But if you look hard enough, you can always tell how someone reacts to something. Just because Dean didn't move at all, doesn't mean that's not a reaction that can be deciphered. However, because of her noticeable lack of conversational skills, Ashley doesn't pick up on any of this.
Dean: I guess my clothes are pretty dirty. And I haven't had a good shower in a while. But it is pretty late. Like everyone else is asleep. Also I wouldn't feel right taking a shower before Lexi does. Not to mention wearing your clothes would be weird.
The blush fades and her face turns blank. An eye twitches as she is reminded of the girl who is supposedly asleep in the guest room right now. Her hands are held behind her back, giving off an almost cutesy vibe so Dean can't tell what she's thinking.
Ashley: How did you two meet?
His eyes squint and dart downwards as he recalls the moment. The haunting memories flood back to his mind like a laughing crowd. Thoughts of death. Feelings of pain and despair. The sight of destruction. The smell of blood. All of it refusing to leave his mind and let him be. Forever itching at him like an infection.
Dean (Inner): How would she react if she knew? I don't know enough about her yet. I can't know what she'll think. I don't want to ruin what I have. But I don't want to bathe in these feelings alone. Whatever's going on with Lexi is making her want to be isolated for some reason.
Earlier in the day, after Cameron and Heather had agreed to let Dean and Lexi stay at their house for the foreseeable future, Lexi came into the waiting room. Although she didn't react to his presence, Dean greeted her and asked how she was doing. Nothing. Her reaction –or lack of one– made Dean's stomach sink with worry. For the past few weeks, Lexi had been the only person there for him, no matter what. They had become inseparable. Both wanting to protect the other. Instant friends. So the fact that she was ignoring him, was a clear indication that something was wrong. He began to wonder why she was acting like this. It was obvious that it stemmed from her past, and her outburst earlier, but it seemed like she had let all her built up emotions out. At least that's what Dean assumed. His main theory that he came up with was that it had something to do with the promise that they made, but he didn't have any further evidence, or even a reason to suspect that.
Dean (Inner): So I don't have anyone here for me right now. I know I have Ashley, but again, I don't know how much I can trust her with information like this. Even if she still accepted me, there's no doubt that her opinion of me would change. If she told her parents, they would probably kick us out. But then again, their family also has powers, so maybe they would understand? While that might be the case, it's not a possibility that I can so easily depend on. I shouldn't tell her. I know that she's going through things on her own, and I don't want to burden her any further. This is my curse. If I can't handle it alone, then I shouldn't shove it onto other people. Especially not people I just met. Or people that I might have feelings for. Actually… How do I feel about her? I know I don't love her but… Or maybe I do? I don't know. I have other things I need to be worried about. Love is secondary to everything else. It's a bonus, not an objective.
Dean: Remember those muggers I told you about?
Maintaining her blank face, she nods. Dean stares into her wide eyes for a few seconds, examining how observant they look. Like they would melt him if he said something wrong.
Dean: After they ran off, I began considering ending it. Just giving up. She just randomly showed up and stopped me, like god sent her down to keep me safe.
Her eyes soften as her body relaxes. It was a story she had heard part of earlier that same day, but hearing the rest of it was like another punch in the gut. Knowing that it was traumatizing enough to make Dean feel utterly hopeless, that he had even considered the idea of suicide, was heartbreaking. In her mind, she wants to take a few steps forward and hug Dean, but she doesn't.
Ashley (Inner): It wouldn't feel right. From what he told me, Lexi is his source of comfort and safety. But it doesn't sound like he likes her. If that's the case, does he like anyone? What does that mean for me? What am I to him? Does he really only think of me as Ashley the singer? Or am I more?
Ashley (Inner): Why do you even care? It's not as if you like him.
Ashley (Inner): I don't know. That's why this feels so much worse than it should. This uncertainty… This confusion… I don't know how to resolve it. I don't know how to organize my feelings. Or if I even can.
Ashley: I'm sorry. After hearing your stories, it's hard for me to say something sweet in response. I don't want you to suffer bu-
Dean: Don't worry about it.
A demon lurks within his eyes. It stares her down as she recovers from being cut off like that. Even though she knows that it's a different person, she can't help but feel a sense of familiarity in those eyes. Familiarity… And hostility. Leon's eyes.
Ashley: W-what? How can you expect me to not worry about it? I clearly value you in some way, since I invited you into my house, so why wouldn't I feel a responsibility to look after you?
Dean: Because I don't want you to worry. Nothing more to it. I know you already got a lot going on in your own head, you don't need my problems crowding it too.
Ashley (Inner): His thinking is flawed, but I can understand it in a way. People care for you for you, not who you appear to be. And if he's anything like Leon, I know he'll just argue if I try to prove that to him. Granted, I can't be completely sure that they are related, but the similarities in appearance are uncanny. Are they brothers perhaps? I don't think I remember Leon talking about his family too much. He said he thought family was stupid. But still, if they are related, then what are the chances of that happening?
Ashley: If that's how you feel, then I won't argue against it. But know that I'll still be here if you change your mind, okay?
Dean: Okay.
The air becomes uncomfortable. Ashley kicks her feet a little, since they've started hurting from standing in place. She continues to stare at Dean, although his eyes are off to the side, lost in thought. An uncomfortably slow twenty seconds pass before anything happens. With a hushed sigh, Dean looks over at her. The once hostile and familiar eyes return to normal. Dean's eyes. It's a friendly look. One that makes Ashley smile.
Ashley: Are you going to bed now?
Dean: Yeah. Or I guess I'll try. Laying down with the back of my head hurting isn't the best.
Ashley: Why don't you test how comfortable the pillow is first then? I can always get you another one if you want.
Once she finished speaking, Dean began to lay down. While the blanket was soft and warm, the pillow felt a little stiff. A quick and sharp pain stung through his head, causing him to wince, and turn his head to the side.
Ashley was still standing there, with a face he couldn't quite describe the meaning of. It seemed as if her face was more defined than usual. It was different, but still recognizably Ashley. Her cheeks were sucked in just a little, to where it was barely noticeable. Although the lower half of her face was already in a shape that Dean could only really describe as a "blunt cone with a rounded tip", this action of hers made it even more so. Another result of this was that her lips looked smaller. More cute in his eyes. Even if Dean had no intention of kissing her at any point, the sight of her lips still made him feel just a little bit excited. The last difference he noticed was in her eyes. For the most part, they looked blank. Yet at the same time, there was clear emotion and thought behind them. It was clear that she was paying attention to him, but it also felt like her mind was somewhere else at the same time.
Ashley: How is it?
The blanket rustled and folded, while the couch settled as he sat up. The wind whipped faintly, and the pillow plopped into his hands with a semi-loud thump as he flipped it a few times, releasing dust into the air, which he quickly fanned away after gently placing the pillow back on the couch. He looked back up at her, not realizing that he was making the same face she had just made.
Dean: It's really stiff. My head hurt instantly. When I turned it to the side though, it felt fine. But that isn't something I wanna be doing all night. I feel like I'd wake up with a red, stinging ear. And I like sleeping on my back a lot. Or if I wanted to sleep on my stomach, having my face smushed into something this solid wouldn't feel too great, you know? Also it's like super dusty. Was this in a closet or something?
Ashley took a few steps forward, grabbing the pillow off the couch, and clutching it to her torso. It was cold, and left a dirty feeling on her arms and hands. The dust left a thin layer on her, which still left a dry feeling after she blew it away.
Ashley: Sorry. But yes, it was left under the bed in the guest room for years, with many other things sitting atop it. I'll leave this in my room and return with another pillow in a second.
Dean: Alright, cool.
She begins walking to her room, returning a minute later with a much more appealing pillow. It's a lot more fluffy and clean than the previous. Dean gratefully takes it from her as she offers it, setting it down on the end of the couch and resting his head on it.
Ashley: Is this one any better? I used one of my pillows so it should be comfortable. If it isn't, then I can't really do anything else about that, sorry.
Dean: No, it's actually really nice. Thanks dude.
He gives her a thumbs up with a smile, making her previous anxiety melt away instantly. Before leaving, she glances over at his hoodie, which is laying on the table. Even though she has generally gotten a feeling of warmth from him so far, the sight of the hoodie makes her almost grossed out. The cuts and stains tell an upsetting story. One she wishes was only fiction. Her eyes widen.
Ashley (Inner): This is fate, isn't it? It must be. It's too convenient a situation to not be. Like some divine force is spinning a story, where we are the leads. So much has happened to him in such a short time, all leading to this. He's here with me. I'm the person he wanted to see, and he's a possible person I wanted to have. It could be a coincidence, but with so many elements at play, that idea becomes hard to believe.
Dean: Alright well, goodnight. And thanks for being so nice to me. Convincing your parents to let us stay here and all. It means a whole lot to me.
Coming back to reality with a small gasp, her focus shifts to Dean. She gives him a quick wave before crossing her arms over her abdomen. Without a word, Ashley walks to the hallway.
Paying no mind to her body language, Dean lays down on his back, with his hands overlapped on his chest. The warm yellow light of the lamp soothes his tired eyes, making them feel heavy. Giving in to their weight, his eyes close. Yet he doesn't fall asleep instantly. In fact, it takes a while. For as long as he can remember, it's always taken at least an hour for him to fall asleep, no matter how tired he may be.
Dean (Inner): I could use this time for some thinking or theorizing I suppose. But there's really only one thing to think about. The one thing I can't seem to get out of my head today. Leon. I don't think it would be weird or out of place if I asked questions about him. Ashley did mistake me for him, and he did pay for my hospital bills after all. I don't want to raise too much suspicion however. If I give away too much of myself, then there's a chance they could find out about the things I've done. I don't think they would have access to the same news here as back home, but word can spread. Or actually… That probably isn't the case. I was worried about if they knew the name Dean Jeeves, so I didn't want to tell them my last name, but there's no way they wouldn't know. The hospital knew my full name, which they probably got it from Lexi. But that brings up another question. If they know my full name, and assuming they know Leon's full name, then how have they not made that connection? Especially if we look similar. It is possible that Leon didn't give them his last name, or gave a fake one. I don't know anything about Leon, except for the note he wrote for me, so it is possible he would do something like that. After all, the note did seem pretty passive aggressive. But I can't be sure of anything until I know more. So I definitely need to ask questions. I could probably just bring up the topic out of nowhere and be fine, but I don't think that's the best option. Again, I don't want to raise too many suspicions. I don't really know what they would suspect me of, but you never know. Better safe than sorry. Best option I'd say, is to just try and bring it up naturally.
The feeling of a sharp pain begins to manifest in the back of his head. Most likely because of laying in that position for a while. Adjusting the blanket to match his movement, he turns to his side, facing the back cushions of the couch.
Dean (Inner): It smells like her. It's nice. For so long I watched her grow behind a screen. Or I guess listened to. But now I'm in her house. The same place she grew up. I spoke to her. I saved her life. My head is resting on the same pillow she uses every night, and it smells like her. Maybe I did die at the concert. Maybe I did bleed out and now I'm in heaven. Because this is all too good to be true. Maybe that's why it feels like I don't have romantic feelings anymore. Because I'm dead. It's definitely a possibility but… I think the real explanation is that I'm still working out my feelings from the concert yesterday. A lot of shit happened that really messed with my head, so I wouldn't be surprised if my mind is taking its time to process it all. So maybe those feelings will return eventually. Once I've sorted my feelings. I do still feel kinda giddy around her, but I think that's just because I'm used to feeling that way. Did I say that earlier? Who cares? I'm allowed to ramble in my own head.
While Dean was lost in thought, Ashley stopped in front of the door to the guest room, where Lexi was.
Ashley (Inner): Should I go in and check on her? She seems like she needs someone to talk to. But I don't know if I should. If she continues to act the same tomorrow, then I'll definitely confront her about it and find out what's wrong.
Lexi sat up in the bed, curled into a ball as she scratched at her legs. She wanted to be quiet and not disturb anyone, so she bit her lip to keep from crying or calling out.
Lexi (Inner): I don't want to be alone.
The thought of it terrified her. It wasn't necessarily the idea of being alone in a moment, but rather, being forgotten. Thrown away. Yet at the same time, she didn't fully open herself up to anyone. The same fear applied. If she opened herself up, and people abandoned her, it would hurt worse than if she didn't. But still, not allowing herself to become truly attached to people out of fear, hurt really bad too. Stuck in a dilemma of her own fear. She couldn't think of anyone that she could do to feel safe. To feel welcomed. To feel wanted.
Lexi (Inner): Today's just a bad day. I'll feel better tomorrow. What the hell am I even saying? I won't. I won't feel better tomorrow. It's that damn promise I made. Why did I do that? Why did I lash out like that? Why did I make a promise I know I won't keep? A promise that I don't want him to keep either.
The soft bed relieves some of her intense feelings. It's a nice change of pace compared to the uncomfortably hard surfaces she had been sleeping on for over a year. But it still had its drawbacks for her. It gave her a feeling like she wasn't in control. Because the bed was so soft, it was hard to maintain balance when sitting up like she was. She felt as if she would fall over at any time. Shatter into pieces once making contact with the bed.
Lexi (Inner): I want things to be normal between us. I like being his friend. And I like joking around. It helps me forget my fears, or at least distract myself from them. It lets me be who I am. And if I'm careful, and don't get too attached, then it won't matter if he abandons me or not. Of course there's always the possibility that I will become attached to him, but I'll only allow that to happen once I'm sure he'll stay. I have to break that promise. I have to.
The plan she makes in her head gives her a small feeling of solace as she lays down.
The feeling of loneliness that the bedroom makes her feel, doesn't go away. It eats at her emotions and trauma, making her clutch the blanket tighter in the hope of safety. She can't fall asleep. Not with the images flashing in her head. All the people that hate her. The people who left her. The ones she loved, gone.
Lexi (Inner): I said that love isn't real, but I know that's not true. It's just that I don't want to believe it's real, when I've never truly experienced it. Or maybe I have. Was that love even real? Maybe it was for me but… Not anymore. I could've just been tricking myself. I could still be tricking myself. Or I could just be scared. The only reason love isn't real is because I'm too scared to accept it.
Ashley takes a step to the other side of the hallway and enters her own room. The blanket covering her window makes the room pitch black with the door closed. Instead of looking for the light switch, she walks to her bed and sits down on it using only muscle memory.
Rain starts tapping against the glass. It starts off slow, but slowly becomes more frequent as the minutes pass. She knew it was supposed to rain at around twelve that night, and that it would continue until late the next day, so it didn't surprise or disappoint her in any way. It was comforting. The sounds of muffled showers just outside the wall she lay next to was soothing. Her breathing became calm as her body relaxed, molding itself into her bedding.
Even with the sounds of the rain lulling her to sleep, her mind continued to race.
Ashley (Inner): What if… What if I only…
Her consciousness fades in and out. Her eyes are heavy, but unlike with Dean, she's actually falling asleep. Despite this however, she's determined to finish her thought.
Ashley (Inner): …Think I like him… Because… Because he looks like… Leon? Do I even… Like Leon? Of course… Not… But… Dean is just… Different somehow…
The three of them fall asleep. And suddenly nothing matters anymore. That is, until they wake up. No one knows what tomorrow may hold.