Flick the switch
Lucia gazed skeptically at the guy for a heartbeat or two.
"What dya mean I'll die? I know I'm gonna die. The deal was I was supposed to die first, but she's had her kids, the legacy remains intact, which is all anyone else cares about, I just want to take the thing that killed my sister down with me."
The tone of the young huntress was flat and grim enough to disturb the two men.
It was the older who spoke first.
"You're in bad shape, you and your sister couldn't take this thing down when you and your now dead sister couldn't take this thing down when you were good to go...I mean I know you're a girl but... You need us!"
"You haven't even told me your names and I need you? I don't think so!"
"I'm Dean, this is Sammy, Winchester,...and yes you do!"
"It's SAM.. and you could at least let us take a look at your back." Sam ventured.
"And you know about that, how?"
Lucia cut Sam off mid flow. "You have dreams, you have the dreams and then he kills the stuff that you dream about...It was how Karmen and I worked, she would find it and I would kill it...only this time she didn't see it coming and I wasn't fast enough to stop it. As for my back, I was in a coma, three weeks, lying still, under the care of skilled, well paid professionals, with proper equipment, but you think you can do better?"
Lucia knew she was being snappy, bordering on the shrewish, but she also knew that she was as much of a hunter as either of these guys and she had a job to do. More than a job, a vengeance gig. However, her back was hampering her a great deal and between the blood loss and the lack of sleep, she barely had the energy to stand and argue, let alone drive.
She caved in, grudgingly. "Fine, if it helps me to find this thing then you can see the wounds." Once again, she spoke dispassionately, as if she were talking about autopsy photos rather than vicious wounds that were still fresh, torn through her own, living, hurting, flesh,
She turned away from the Winchester's and slid, painfully back into her own car.
"Hey, you don't get to promise us a floor show and then leave!" Dean all but snarled.
Lucia lurched her car back into the space she had been leaving when she hit the black Impala.
"Inside" she explained curtly "I'm hardly going to flash my supernaturally scarred flesh in the parking lot, now am I? And that floor show comment, absolutely charming." She added sarcastically.
She let her own car and watched as the Winchesters parked their own, now maimed, car before leading the way back into the motel and taking back the key to the room that she'd just vacated.
The two men followed closely behind her, not pausing at the desk, the sight drawing a lewd remark from the greasy looking guy, who sat behind it, watching a small, busted looking TV, and clutching a bag of chips big enough to feed a small family for a week.
You had to admire a man who embraced a cliché so completely.
The remark went ignored by the female hunter, who was well used to comments like those by now, and allowed to slide by the younger brother, who was focused completely on the task at hand.
The older brother, however, heard, and reacted, spinning to grab the greasy guy by his pudgy neck, so quickly that the little pervert didn't even have time to drop his bag of chips.
Lucia turned and her own hand shot out to force the man to disengage. Turned out this was not a good plan.
"Dean, leave it alone, we don't have time!"
As her fingers closed on his wrist, she jerked away as a flood of unknown, unbidden, images, filled her mind.
"What is it?" Dean asked quickly, dropping Mr cliché, who landed in a heap on the floor, all without spilling a single potato chip.
"I don't...Yes I do know, they flipped the goddamn switch!"