Witching Hour | Winchester

Thirty-Three

Rox,
I don't know where to begin, so let me just say I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you, and I'm sorry I said those awful things. I'm sorry I pushed you away. I'm sorry I broke your trust, and I'm sorry things have been so weird between us.
I just want things to go back to the way they were. I miss you, Roxanne. And I hope you'll forgive me.
Dean
P.S. Meet me at the car.

Roxanne rereads the letter, staring at his messy handwriting. She frowns, mulling over his words. She knows he's sorry, but that doesn't mean she's ready to just let it all go. But she takes a deep breath, lingering on the last sentence. Then, she moves to the bathroom to get ready for the day.

When she steps out of the motel room, her eyes immediately scan the parking lot. Dean is hunched over, working on the Impala. She hesitates, then shakes it off and approaches him.

"Hey."

He turns around quickly, eyebrows raised.

"Hey! How'd you sleep?"

She shrugs.

"Well, uh, Sam's at the library. I was hoping you'd sleep in," he smiles, wiping his hands on a rag. "I'm almost done. Are you ready to go?"

Her frowns deepens, and her brow furrows. "Go where?"

"That, my dear, is a surprise," he says, shutting the hood of the car.

She watches as he rounds the car, putting his tools in the trunk. With a confused expression, she mouths the words, 'my dear?'

"So, are you ready?"

She runs a hand through her hair, suddenly self-conscious. "I guess."

He nods to the Impala, and she obliges. When they pull into a diner, she turns to look at him curiously.

"Just thought it might be nice to have breakfast together. You know, the way we used to."

She offers him a soft smile, and the two head into the diner. After putting in their orders, they avoid each other for a bit. After minutes of silence, Dean clears his throat.

"So you, uh, never really told me much about that case."

She looks at him for a moment, contemplating what she might say. "Well, it was a demon pretending to be a ghost. Carson and I stayed with his friends, and I exorcised the demon."

"And?"

"And what?"

Dean frowns. "Come on, Roxanne. You used to tell me everything."

She slouches back into the booth. "That was before..."

Dean's eyes drift down to the table, and he takes a breath. "I know," he says, looking back up. "But things can't get better if we don't try to move on."

She nods, meeting his eyes. "You're right... Okay, um... So it was putting thoughts in my head, making me see things. It locked me in a closet and gave me this."