The Price of Freedom

Chapter 6

Chapter 6

The next morning Farrah got up early and yawned through cooking breakfast. If Dean was mad at her, she was going to do everything she could to fix it. Not only that, but she had a nightmare and didn't want to go back to sleep.

As the pancakes cooked, her eyelids drooped. She'd gotten up at five to be up before Dean, but she had needed much more than five hours of sleep.

"Farrah, what're you doing up?"

She yawned and smiled weakly at Dean. "Good morning, Dad. Uh, I...couldn't sleep."

"Yeah right. You're exhausted."

"True, but I couldn't sleep. After four hours, nothing. Castiel would wake me after about three or four hours, not that I needed anything more in the beginning."

"In the beginning?"

She nodded. "For the first month or so, four hours was all I needed. But after that I started to tire more easily, and Castiel and I spent most of our time finding food and safe places to sleep. He tried to let me sleep longer, but it really wasn't safe. Because I'm part human, I attracted a lot of problems, which made even sleeping for that short amount of time a stretch." She blushed and looked down at the food. "Sorry. You probably didn't want to know all of that. Uh, I'm just used to sleeping for four hours."

He nodded. "Okay. And you decided to make pancakes?"

As she started to answer, a huge crash from the hall made her jump away and grab a kitchen knife; she nearly collapsed to the floor.

"Sam!" Dean hollered.

"Sorry," said Sam as he walked around the corner. "The light went out in the hall and I tripped over something. You okay, Farrah?"

She paused, then nodded and stood back up. "Yeah, sorry. Just spooked me a little."

Sam looked at Dean and Dean felt like hitting him; he'd made that loud noise on purpose to scare her! She was already terrified enough, why was he-oh. Dean rolled his eyes. He was proving a point.

"Good. I'm going for a shower, but I'll be back to try these pancakes. Haven't had them in a while." He smiled and walked out.

"Me either," she sighed as she tossed them onto plates. "Dad, how many do you want?"

"I'll just take half."

She nodded and gave him everything, including a glass of coffee, then sat back. "Do you want anything else?"

He took a second to stop and look at her. "Alright, what's up? You're not acting like yourself."

She bit her lip and swayed back and forth on her heels. "Are you still mad at me?"

Putting down his fork, Dean laid his arms on the edge of the table. "Is that what this is about?" She didn't meet his eyes. "You've changed a lot, Farrah."

"Good or bad?"

"Can't tell yet. You're a lot stronger, but a lot quieter." She started to clean up, not so hungry anymore. "Come on, talk to me. Quit being so secluded."

"Like you?" She didn't look up. "Look, I just need some time to readjust, and I don't want anyone mad at me when I try to do that. That's all."

He nodded, unconvinced, and said, "What woke you up this morning?"

"My alarm."

"Don't lie to me. Tell me what it was."

She sighed. "A nightmare."

"Sit down, eat something, and tell me about it. If I'd told someone what was eating at me, my nightmares would've stopped a lot sooner."

She didn't eat, but sat beside him and took a deep breath. Knowing he wasn't mad anymore, she smiled. Now she could really be herself, without feeling like he would break and snap at her.

"It was one of the times that Castiel left-"

"He left you alone?"

"Shush and let me finish." He sighed and gestured. She fidgeted with her hands. "Okay, so my nightmare was one of the rare times that Castiel left me to find something to eat. He only left for five minutes at a time, so I wasn't alone for very long. But in my dream he just left, without planning to come back. Suddenly I was surrounded, and I was weaponless. I don't know what happened, but all my knives and weapons were gone."

She started to shake, and Dean wondered what he should do to help her. "They ran forward to attack me, and I-I didn't want to die, so I used my powers and they left, but I couldn't get back then, because I did. I was trapped."

Keeping the sobs away was difficult, but manageable. After finishing her tale, Farrah took a few deep breaths. "I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm home; I'm safe. But I'm still terrified, like it's a dream. Like I'm going to wake up back in purgatory."

"Just calm down. You've been back for one night; you were there for a year."

"Eleven months twelve days and five hours," she muttered. "I kept track."

He chuckled. "That's my girl."