A/N: OK, I posted one of my favorite stories I wrote last week. This is my other favorite. I wrote it during the second half of the second season. However, how I wanted my climax to happen was already done… in "What Is and What Should Never Be." Seriously. It wasn't just "close enough for jazz." It WAS WIaWSNB. Which kind of ruined my plans for this story. Any similarity between this and ANY Supernatural episode really is purely coincidental. Especially any similarity between WIaWSNB

Still, it's my other favorite, so I'm sharing it again. It's a long one… 13 chapters. I'll also post every day or every other day. (By the way… this is the longest one I ever wrote.

As always, reviews are very appreciated.

Thanks.

Kat

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. But, boy, does it own me. Which is just sad.

Weight of the World

Dean took a sip of his beer and looked around the bar without really seeing anything. Finally. Down time. No hunt to do. No Roadhouse to go to where we have to mingle with hunters who might want to kill Sammy. I know Stringbean's looking for a hunt. But, I want to lay low for a while. I don't want to deal with the FBI, from other hunters, from the Demon. I just need to collect my bearings. And catch my breath.

He eyed the people around the bar again and took the last sip of his beer. He could start hustling the drunk at the pool table, but pool wasn't what he needed. He turned back to the bar, and a full glass of beer sat in place of his empty glass.

The bartender shrugged. "Compliments of the young lady at table seven."

Dean turned and focused on a beautiful brunette, sitting alone at a table. She was staring at him, making no pretense of turning away whenever Dean looked at her. Everything about her body language screamed "Take me now!" She twirled a lock of her wavy hair around a finger, kept giving him a half smile with her wide-eyed stare, and kept running another finger around the lip of her glass of beer.

Dean grabbed his beer and got off the bar stool, relieved that Sammy wasn't here to stop him from going over to her, from casting judgment on him for having some fun with a willing participant.

Maybe having some physical fun will cheer me up. Since Milwaukee, Dean felt like he was already in prison. Sammy kept him on lockdown. "It wasn't me who was caught by news cameras seemingly robbing a bank!" No, Stringbean. But the FBI wants you as well.

Dean shook his head. My thoughts are so random now. My life is insane. Worrying about keeping two steps ahead of the FBI, figuring out the Demon's plans, worrying about the promise to kill Sammy if he goes all evil. Again. What those charms Bobby gave us don't work?

Dean sighed. All this worst-case scenario thinking would probably drive him crazy. Besides, there was a pretty girl who was waiting for him.

He walked over to the woman, who gave him a come-hither look and laughed. "I was wondering when you were going to notice me. But you looked like you had your mind on other things."

Dean sat down at the table. "Just thinking. Thanks for the beer." He leaned back in his chair and grinned. "You've definitely got my attention now. So, what's your name?"

"Angela. What's yours?"

Dean briefly hesitated. "Ray Manzarek."

She cocked an eyebrow. "OK, Ray. I haven't seen you around here before. New in town?"

"Yeah." Dean took a drink of his beer.

She watched the beer glass go up to his mouth. He caught her stare, and she grinned. "You can't be here for pleasure. No one comes here for pleasure. If they do, they must be truly insane. It's little wonder there's a mental institution just up the road."

Dean chuckled dryly and put down his beer. "Actually, I am here for pleasure. So, that makes me insane, huh?"

She shrugged. "Well, if you're here for pleasure, I can show you a good time."

"I bet."

"You wanna get out of here?"

Just then, Dean's cell phone rang. "I gotta take this. Please hold that thought." He stood up and walked outside. Down the block, he could see his Impala sitting in front of the motel. No doubt Sammy was calling either about a hunt or he was worried about Dean's good time. Sammy needs to do something else besides mope all the time and look for hunts. Those are the only two things he does if we're not actually hunting anything. I'm drowning here.

He answered his phone. "Sammy, you know you're interrupting me from a classy woman who wants me? She sure has taste. So, what has your panties in a twist?"

"I got a lead from Ellen. A possible poltergeist in Madison. I think we should check it out."

Dean sighed. He hadn't been kidding when he told Sam he wanted to slow down. Even if it was simply to clear his head. This had been such a shitty year. The concept of seeing the Grand Canyon kept looking better and better all the time.

Problem was that half of him agreed with Sam. Maybe the trick to saving Sam was to keep killing as many evil sons of bitches as they possibly could. To keep moving. Keep ahead of the yellow-eyed bastard.

Between his warring feelings, Sam's occasional reminder of that stupid, regretful promise, the fear that he won't be able to save Sammy, and the nagging feeling that Dad could have done a better job protecting Sam than he was, Dean felt like he was being torn apart. He also felt like he was losing hold of his sanity.

Of course, it made it more painful because there was no one he could talk to. To release this constant pressure.

"Dean?" Sam's voice interrupted Dean's swirling thoughts. "You there?"

"Yeah." Dean ran a hand through his hair and glanced back at the door. "I guess we can check it out. I'll be back in a few minutes."

He hung up and walked back into the bar. Angela gave him a big grin.

"I thought you left me."

"As much I'd love to have a good time with you now, I'm gonna have to take a raincheck. Business calls. Sorry."

Her smile faded. "Oh." She dug around in her purse and handed a card to Dean. "Here's my number. You'd better call. At least, finish your beer, please?"

He picked up his beer and downed it. "It would have been fun, Angela," he said as he put the glass back on the table and walked out of the bar.

She watched him go, half-disappointed. He would have been fun, but she realized that having wild, one-time-only sex with Dean Winchester was not was she was assigned to do. Not what she agreed to do.

Father wanted Dean out of the way. She argued to let him live, not only because that was one fine man, but somehow, they weren't able to touch him. Taunt him. Hurt him. Make him feel like shit. But, they couldn't get to him.

She talked to her sister after the kid displayed the sack to possess Sam. The kid was glad that she planned her escape by breaking the Devil's Trap. She swore that she would try again to torture Dean. However, the kid was always to do-first, think it through later.

Father was similar. He wanted Dean dead. It seemed to be the only way to turn Sam towards his natural destiny. Dean was standing in the way. She argued for Dean's life, saying that they haven't been too successful in killing the cockroach. Hell, he's been touched by a reaper, not once, but twice, and he's still alive. Nasty, creepy, slimy reapers.

Plus, she suspected that if they killed Dean, he would still find a way to kick their asses.

If he dies from this, then great. Everybody's happy. Well, maybe not Sam, but at least he'll be able to fulfill what he was meant to do. And, Dean won't be aware that they had anything to do with his death. He'll just slip away, probably into his own mind. Into whatever fantasy his twisted mind has created.

She looked up at her brother, who was tending the bar. He looked pissed that she had been flirting with Dean. He also didn't like her plan. His plan also ran toward the "Kill, kill, kill" mentality.

It wasn't like she didn't have a score to settle with Dean. He killed her older brother. He sent her little sister to Hell.

However, even if he dies, it won't be on her hands. It would be destiny. And, her side will win this war.

It was perfect.

She walked to the bar. Her brother frowned at her. She put Dean's beer glass on the bar, and he quickly snatched it. "You were flirting with him," he said accusingly.

"Yeah. So? Did you see him? I didn't know he looked that! Because, damn!" She motioned for the chalice. "C'mon. Give me it. I need to check in."

He handed her the chalice, and she looked around the bar. She spotted a geek sitting by himself at a table, awkwardly bouncing to the music. She walked over to the table.

"Wanna have a good time, handsome?"

He looked up and grinned, flashing a mouthful of braces. "OK!"

"Lead the way, tiger," she stepped back and let geekboy out of his seat, which he knocked over in his eagerness.

She wished he wasn't so eager. She hated this part. She wished there was such a thing as a person-to-demonic realm cellphone.

He practically bounced to the door.

Once outside the bar, she glanced over at the motel down the street and spotted the Winchesters' muscle car, gleaming under the street light. She noted the space it was parked in. Knowing where the car was would make it easier to track both men.

She looked back at geekboy. "I need to call my father." She steered him to the alley.

"That's alright. I need to check in with my mother. Tell her I'll be late."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" She backed him up against the brick wall and dug out the chalice from her purse.

He laughed at the cup. "You know, I have a cellphone you can borrow."

"I know, right? A cellphone would be so much easier, but I haven't been able to convince anyone of that. The whole 'traditional' thing and all." She frowned. "Anyway, I'm sorry. I really am."

He never saw her knife as it slit his throat. He never felt anything. She caught his blood and turned away to let the body fall to the ground.

She swirled the blood around and watched it open.

"Yes, my daughter? Have you completed your mission?" Her father's deep voice came through the blood.

"Yes, Father. I completed it. Dean Winchester never knew what it him."

"So, the Winchester brothers are separated?"

"Physically, no. Not right now. They're probably in the same motel room right now. Mentally, spiritually, emotionally, Dean's completely gone. My advice is to give it a week, maybe two, and Dean will be completely gone. Just a memory. His protection over Sam is over."

"Is he alive?"

"For now. I just don't know how he'll physically react to the drug."

"Good girl."