The Assassin's Tree

24

Hours had passed without a word being spoken, until the van finally rolled to a stop, and the engine fell silent. I heard Dean's door open, and after a few minutes I heard the back doors open up. His hands grabbed my legs, pulling me towards him. I wiggled a bit in protest. But I knew it wouldn't make a difference.

He picked me up with ease, and I immediately took in my surroundings. We were back at the lakehouse. He carried me in through the propped-open front door, then into the living room, dropping me onto the couch. Not very gently, I must say. I made some noise through the gag, looking up at him. He stared at me a moment, hesitating, before reaching down and untying the shirt, pulling it from my mouth.

"You just gonna leave me like this?" My mouth was dry, and my voice was hoarse. I wiggled my legs a bit. I was sore as hell, all my limbs had fallen asleep and any movement hurt. Dean rubbed his chin, thinking a bit before shaking his head. "No. Not for long. Just... sit tight for a second." He turned to leave, taking a few steps away from me.

"Not like I can go anywhere..." I muttered, and he stopped for a moment. "Okay... bad choice of words on my part." He then walked out of my line of sight. From the kitchen area I heard a chair scraping on the ground, cabinets being opened, and pots clanging. A few minutes passed before I heard his steps approaching me again. He approached from behind, so I didn't see him, but I felt his hands on my ankles as he untied the ropes. "Alright, you can get up now."

I stretched my legs out, groaning a little at the pain that shot up my legs. "Wow, thanks." After the pain subsided a bit, I threw my leg over the edge of the couch, rolling over and pushing myself up to my feet. I wobbled a bit, and Dean caught my arm. He didn't look at me. "I'm making lunch." He walked me towards the kitchen. I trudged along obediently. "Uhm. You can have cheese right? You're not vegan, just vegetarian?"

I looked over at him, but he was just staring straight ahead. "...yeah." Once we were in the kitchen, he pointed to a chair that was already pulled out. There was a length of rope sitting on the table.

"Sit."

I sat stiffly in the chair, my hands pressed against the back of it. I watched quietly as Dean grabbed the rope, kneeling down in front of me and carefully tying my ankles to the legs of the chair. He still refused to look at me. There was a tense silence as he stood, turning his back to me and moving over to the stove. There was a pot of boiling water hissing and bubbling over the fire. He opened up a box of noodles sitting on the counter, slowly dumping them in.

I tapped my foot against the floor, leaning my head back on the chair and closing my eyes. I began to hum softly to myself, an old lullaby from my childhood. I don't know what brought that to my mind. I recalled memories from when Mother would sing them to me before bed. She said my grandma used to sing them to her when she was little, too.

Mother...

I wondered what she was doing now. Was she worried? Had Dean succeeded in easing her fears, was she convinced that I was safely vacationing with my boyfriend? Guilt began to spread in my mind. I hadn't exactly left things on good terms. If that was the last time I saw her...

Not our problem.

Yes it is. I don't want my Mother's last memories of me to be... like that.

"Dean?" I picked my head up, looking at him now. He glanced over his shoulder at me.

"Yeah?"

"Can I... Can I call my Mother?... Please?" My voice sank into a sad murmur.

I watched as Dean fell still, his actions completely disrupted. His shoulders dropped slightly. "Leon..." I heard him sigh, loudly. He pushed a hand through his hair, before turning to face me. He leaned back against the counter. "Not right now. Maybe later, okay?"