Review Please :) will get the next part up ASAP. I hate school work ):


Chapter 9: Bad Day at Black Rock Part 3

I closed my eyes as I leaned my head back under the shower head, the pounding hot water rinsing the shampoo from my hair. I breathed in and caught whiffs of lavender and jasmine from the shampoo I was using.

I hummed a tune softly, trying to remember the lyrics to the song.

"You got a nice white dress and a party on your confirmation…" I sang, running the soap suds over my skin.

I hummed the rest of the verse, trying to remember what words came next. The song had just been on the radio in the room Dean and I were sharing in Bobby's house, but for the life of me I couldn't recall the words. I guess I had been kind of pre-occupied, I had been gathering my shower stuff while Dean was trying to shush a very cranky Riley.

She had been taking a nap in the crib near Bobby's desk when we had come back to check with him about the rabbit's foot but as soon as the front door closed she woke up, crying and cranky as ever.

I sighed as I ran my fingers through my wet locks. Right before I reached for the conditioner I heard the bathroom door creak open. I looked at the shower curtain, trying to pick out the dark shape moving towards the tub.

Dean poked his head into the shower, smiling at me. I grinned at him.

"You singing Billy Joel, Andy?"

I blushed. "How could you even hear me, the door was closed…"

Dean's smile grew wider. "You sing louder than you think," He winked at me, "Especially when you're in the shower."

I splashed water at his face by flicking my finger tips at him. He chuckled and opened the shower curtain a little. I was about to protest, Bobby hated when we got water on his bathroom floor. He said the water seeped into the molding between the tub and the floor and caused mold and rotted wood. He threatened that one of these days we'd be showering and the goddamn tub would fall through the floor.

The protest died on my lips as I saw Dean standing there in just his boxers holding Riley upright in his arms, she was only in her diaper. Dean took one of her little hands in his and smiled, gently kissing her cheek.

"Look who finally calmed down." Dean cooed, smiling at me as Riley gurgled.

I chuckled and reached out to touch her other hand, waving it up and down a little. "Aw, yay. Huh Riley? Dean make you feel all better?" And she did seem completely better, she was wide awake and very calm; I didn't understand how Dean could have such an effect on people.

Dean smiled softly, running his nose over her tiny knuckles of the hand he was holding.

"She just needed to be fed, so luckily we had some breast milk in the fridge, and a new diaper." Riley made a cooing noise and Dean grinned, kissing her nose. "That's right! Daddy's got you all better!"

I chuckled softly at how fatherly Dean could be. If someone would of came up to him four years ago and told him he would be a father, and pretty damn good one…he would have laughed his ass off. Or have gotten insanely creeped out and try to disprove the notion of cutting down on the amount of sex he had with randoms. Each situation would have been probable. Hell, he probably would have done both in the same night.

Dean's goals before we met up with Sammy at Stanford had never centered on being a father figure or having a family. It was just the job, all about the hunt and saving people, the family business. Maybe the idea was in him even before hitting road with Sam, John's example of how to live life engrained in Dean since he was old enough to remember.

"How bout we get a shower with mommy, huh?" Dean asked Riley, waiting a moment like she was actually going to respond.

I smiled. "That sounds like a great idea."

I turned towards the showerhead and leaned down to fiddle with the knobs, turning the cold water up ever so slightly so that the water wasn't too hot for Riley.

I peeked my head past the curtain and looked through the bathroom doorjamb to see Dean gently set Riley down on the bed to remove her fairly new and clean diaper. He came back into the bathroom and slowly handed her over to me. I smiled widely and held her close my body, my back towards the soft stream of water. Some water splashed off my back and sprayed Riley's skin with a gentle mist. Her little hands reached out and touched the water droplets sliding down my shoulders. I placed a kiss on her forehead as Dean withdrew his boxers and stepped in the shower, pulling the curtain closed.

"Here I'll take her." Dean said, running his hands through his hair. He crooned softly as I passed her into his arms, muscles flaring as he flexed to hold her close and somewhat tightly to him. "Such a big girl, huh?"

I chuckled and leaned down to place a kiss on her belly, her feet jerking a little against Dean's chest.

"She loves to eat, just like her dad." Dean beamed, clearly proud. "Just wait till she gets to solid foods…"

He trailed off, swallowing and my smile slowly faded from my face as I stood.

Not even a full year. Seven months? Eight or maybe nine? I didn't want to actually count. I knew it wasn't as much time as I wanted to believe it was. Baby food obviously…but that wasn't what Dean was talking about when he said solid food. The simple act of finding out what his daughter's favorite cheeseburger would be, and if he shared that same opinion, was something Dean would never been able to do. Because he would be gone.

I swallowed and closed my eyes a moment. God, could we not just have a perfect and loving family moment without this goddamn deal mucking up the works? Was that not possible? It was very painful to realize that it was hard to do one without the other one lurking in the back of my mind; like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Never really understood that expression until right this very moment, where it was slapping me in the face.

"Andy?" His voice barely above the sound of the water. "You okay?"

I sighed shakily, tears coming down my face and luckily I didn't think he could tell with my face already wet from the shower.

"M'fine." I managed, voice somewhat choked.

My eyes opened to look at him and before he had the chance to respond, Riley's lower lip started wobbling, her large hazel doe eyes filling with unshed tears. She gave a small whimper, a warning sign that a huge display of waterworks was about to happen.

"Uh oh…" Dean's face was priceless, he looked terrified. He always did hate it when girls cried; he was powerless against it and never knew what to do. No wonder crying when I was littler always worked like a charm on him.

"What's wrong baby?" I sniffled, going towards her. I cupped her cheek. "You cold?"

She let out an ear bending sob, tears plopping down her adorable cheeks. Dean moved and switched places with me, not waiting to consider another option. He turned to the side a little, the stream hitting his chest and belly. The water bounced gently onto Riley's legs and her stomach; her cries calming down just a little.

"Shhhh…" Dean shushed softly, jiggling her a little up and down in his arms. "It's okay peanut, you're okay."

I grabbed the pink and fuzzy washcloth hanging from the shower head and wet it, squeezing out the excess water. I poured some body wash, smelled like cinnamon and vanilla—ironically just like Sam and Dean meshed together into one—and put it under the water one more time.

I took one of Riley's hands and ran the cloth over her fingers, washing each one with care and affection.

Her eyes watched my every move, her crying fit turning into hiccups and soft sniffles.

I smiled softly and did the same thing with her other hand and then her tummy. I worked my way down until I reached her toes, washing each one slowly, contemplating what color nail polish she'd want to paint them when she was older…or if she'd want to even paint them at all.

"There we go." I washed her chest and her arms, moving the washcloth over her shoulders and neck.

Dean smiled softly, leaning forward to place a kiss on my forehead as I leaned back. I turned to rinse the washcloth clean. Dean stepped forward a little, the water rinsing Riley. I ran the washcloth back over her skin, getting the soapy suds that the water stream had missed.

She cooed again and I shook my head. "That waterworks scene came out of nowhere." I gently tapped her nose with my finger.

Dean chuckled softly. "Maybe she was just sad because you were."

I smiled and then something hit me. "Wait…do you think…"

Dean's eyes met mine. "What?"

"Do you actually think she felt…what I felt?"

He frowned and looked at Riley, who was staring up at him. He smiled softly, placing a kiss on her head.

"You mean like…like you and Sam feeling?"

I swallowed. "It's possible isn't it? I mean, what if…whatever Azazel did to me can be passed on in some way." I started to feel frantic. "Or if it's not…visions or whatever, but something else supernaturally freaky? Heightened senses, empathy—"

"Have you been browsing the internet in the wee hours highly caffeinated again?"

I looked at him, aghast for one whole moment and glared. I would have hit him if he hadn't been holding Riley.


He chuckled. "I'm sorry! Baby…" He smirked as my mouth started to twitch into a familiar stance. "Don't pout at me, listen, I mean it's a bit of a stretch don't you think? We never heard about anything like that before while we were researching the yellow eyed demon."

My combination of a frown and a pout was still firmly in place. "But it's not like we can ask anyone else on the topic! Sam and I are the only ones we know of that were his favorite. And who knows how many people he enrolled—"

"Okay, now you're making it sound like a college…or one of those weird sororities."

He barely put a dent in my rant. "—that we don't know about because they weren't his favorites and pulled into that God forsaken crap hole where Sam and I had to fight to stay alive!" I ran out of breath, taking a breather a moment while Dean watched me like I had eight eyes. "Which Sam didn't even do!"

"Yeah, that you for that very morbid reminder."

I groaned, smacking my hand over my face as I heard Dean chuckle softly. I felt his lips lean into my hair a moment and then pull back.

"Riley, this freaking out your mother is doing is called a nervous breakdown…"

"I'm glad you think this is funny, Dean." I mumbled, picking up all the humor in his voice.

He sighed and tilted my chin with one hand, gently passing Riley with his other arm. I took her into my arms and held her close, kissing the side of her head. Dean leaned forward and wrapped his arms around me, cuddling Riley and I comfortably against his chest.

"Listen to me. Yellow Eyes is dead, and all his goddamn freaky shit went with it. You and I both know that."

"Yeah, that's true for Sam." I whispered. "He hasn't had any nightmares or visions or anything since you killed it…but I'm different. I still had dreams; I still have visions, Dean. That has to mean something."

He cupped my face and I shrugged softly, swallowing thickly. "I'm scared." I admitted.

He leaned closer and kissed me softly. "There is no need to be scared, you understand? Sam, Bobby and I will figure this out. Okay?" He waited until I nodded before he moved to put his arm back around me. "Even if it's the last thing I do."

I swallowed and nodded again, resting my forehead on his shoulder for a moment. It might very well be the last thing he did.


I came downstairs in a simple jeans and teal t-shirt combo, not yet putting on my shoes. Dean had gotten out of the shower first, taking Riley with him to dry and dress her. I ran a hand through my dark, wet locks and turned the corner into the living room, nearly heading into a pacing Sam. He stopped me by putting his hands on my arms, smiling softly and pulling them back a moment later. He started pacing in a new streak, avoiding me completely.

I saw Dean on the couch, rocking Riley. I smiled at him and motioned to Sam. "What's with—"

"It's not a luck charm." Bobby interrupted my question from his desk, coming into the room with a dusty book in his hand. "It's a curse. A Baton Rouge conjure-woman made it to kill people, Sam."

"Ah, the rabbits foot." I mumbled, watching Dean stand up with Riley and slowly pass her to Sam.

"You touch it, you own it. You own it; sure, you get a run of good luck to beat the devil. But you lose it, that luck turns. It turns so bad that you're dead inside a week." Bobby scolded, putting the book down with a thump.

I winced. "We didn't know, Bobby."

Sam sighed and held Riley close to his chest, jiggling her gently as he paced. "So, I won't lose it, Bobby."

"Everybody loses it." Bobby reiterated and I sighed now too, rubbing my face as Dean passed me and went into the kitchen. I watched Sam walk with Riley, the rabbit's foot bobbing up and down in his pants pocket as he moved.

"Okay," I got up and stood in front of Sam and kissed Riley's cheek. "How do we break the curse?"

Bobby sighed, leafing through the pages of one of his dusty books. "I don't know if you can." He sounded frustrated, tired. I felt sorry for him, which he wouldn't have taken lightly. I just felt bad he always had to pick up our asses when we got them buried so deep in shit that we couldn't find them. He looked like he needed some sleep. Or at least some coffee.

"Let me look through my library and make some calls."

Dean came back in and set some coffee on Bobby's desk, who barely looked up. He merely grunted in thanks.

Dean smiled at me as he walked over. "Bobby said we should lay low until he figures this out."

Dean nodded. "I heard. We should go get some dinner, I'm starving."

I sighed softly and looked at Sam, who was talking softly to Riley and tickling her belly as he did so. I smiled at the tender moment.

"Yeah, food sounds good."

Sam smiled at me and jiggled Riley. "Wanna get her car seat?"

I shook my head. "No, I don't think she should go."

"Why not?"

I turned to Dean. "Because if our luck goes sour I don't want Riley getting caught in the crossfire. She can stay with Bobby; I know she's safe here."

He nodded softly. "Yeah, good plan." He took her from Sam's arms and gently laid her down in her crib next to Bobby's desk. He laid her protective blanket over her and smiled. "Later peanut."

Riley cooed in response.

I smiled and looked at Sam, who grinned and winked. I chuckled and shook my head.

"Not even with that luck on your side Sammy."

He just laughed and followed me out to the car.


Dean held open the door for me as I walked through to Biggerson's Diner. I smiled softly at him as Sam followed in suit, letting the door close.

"Don't worry." Dean tried calming Sam down again. "Bobby will find a way to break it."

They had had this same conversation in the car at least eight times. Sam had gotten very antsy on the way to the diner, worried to all hell about this rabbit's foot and losing it. The point was that we would just have to wait to see if Bobby found a way to break this damn curse. Until then we had to sit tight and made sure that the rabbit's foot stayed in one place: Sam's pocket. And there were only so many times Dean could make "ants in your pants" jokes before Sam would strangle him while he was driving…so thank God we were at the diner.

"Until then," I looked to Dean and grinned. "I say we hit Vegas, pull a little Rain Man. You can be Rain Man…" I looked at Sam and he ruffled my hair and I squealed, trying to pull away.

Dean chuckled as he approached the podium where the manager was standing. "Hi. Table for two, please."

I jumped as the owner yelled out, "Congratulations!"

Suddenly balloons and streamers along with many shiny confetti strips fell from the ceiling. The owner rushed at us with a huge check that I only saw on those channels where fashion shows were presenting big checks with large amounts of money to a charity. Those damn stations always fizzed out on television when I tried to watch them.

"You are the one-millionth guest of the Biggerson's restaurant family!" The owner cheered and I heard one of those little horns that people blew when it was midnight on New Year's Eve.

I loosely held onto the check with Sam and Dean, glancing at them confused. Sam was disoriented…Dean was grinning. I rolled my eyes and snorted. What a dork.

I winced as a flash went off from an employee taking a picture of us with the check. I looked up at Sam, who was glaring at Dean's grin. I chuckled. "This is your fault Lucky Charms…" He looked at me and smirked softly.

"You think you're cute with these little nicknames…you're not."

I smiled widely. "I'm adorable…now let's get some free food."

The owner literally bounced. "That's the spirit!"

Dean looked at me as we got a table. "Where the hell are we going to put this check?"

I chuckled. "I'm sure Bobby would be thrilled if we displayed that in his living room."Sam slid inside the booth and I looked up at Dean. "I'm gonna go the bathroom." I kissed his cheek. "Order me an Iced Tea…or no! Better yet, hot chocolate!"

Dean smirked and slid into the booth opposite of Sam and tried to wrap an arm around my waist. "Come on, I already saw you pee in the shower before we left for the diner…"

"Ew Dean! I did not!" I took my jacket off and threw it at him and pulled free of his hold. I smiled at him and turned to go to the bathroom, running straight into our waitress.

Swing set. Red eyes. Swing set. I stumbled back, feeling someone shift behind me. I backed into his chest. Swing set swinging. Blending of color; like pastels. Loud ringing noises. Empty swing; little girl, brown hair, doe eyes. Huge tears cascading down her face. Back up her face. Into her teary eyes. Swinging. Empty swing.

I groaned softly, holding my head. I could feel Sam behind me, supporting my weight. "Hey, whoa, you alright?"

I looked up at him and saw Dean get up as well, coming up the other side of me.

"I'm so sorry!" Our waitress, I looked at her nametag; Kary. "I wasn't looking where I was going…"

I shook my head. "No, no, my fault." I swallowed; huge head rush. The room was spinning.

She smiled, her short cut hair poking at her cheeks. "Alright, well, I'll be with your table in a moment alright?"

She didn't wait for an answer, heading straight for the kitchen. Dean touched my arm. "What the hell was that?"

I frowned and ran a hand through my hair. "I…have no idea."


"It was so weird. I mean visions or whatever you want to call them is weird in general but that was just…beyond my regular cup of weird."

"So…you said it was like watching one of those old black and white movies. You think you saw the past?"

I growing more and more frustrated, my pounding headache not helping. I couldn't help it. This was seriously the last straw. I was so tired of having these goddamn things and not knowing where they came from or what it meant.

"I don't know Sam. If I knew, do you think I'd be asking you two what the hell it all meant?"

Dean cleared his throat rather awkwardly and the conversation dropped off from there. I heard Dean mumble "sour puss" a few times before I threw the ketchup lid at him.

I picked at my French fries as Dean devoured his burger; his newly found silence refreshing. I watched as Kary filled up another tables round of coffee and shook my head as Sam waved his hand in front of my face. I looked up at him.


"Stare any harder and you'll bore a hole into her."

I glared at him and then turned away. I looked across the table at Dean, who looked like he had the same questioning look Sam was giving me. I tried to ignore both of them to no avail.

"I can't stop thinking about…before, alright? I mean, what the hell was that?" I leaned back into the seat and rubbed my forehead a moment. "Why does this keep happening to me?"

"Oh so now you want to talk about it?" I bit the inside of my cheek. He was joking. I knew he was joking. But everytime they tried to joke with me I just felt like they were scratching at my raw nerve endings.

Sam wrapped an arm around my shoulders and shook me gently. "Hey, don't get frustrated. We'll figure this out."

I shook his arm off. "That's what everyone keeps saying! You, Dean, Bobby, I'm tired of "We'll figure it out" there's no we!" I could see Dean swallow, setting his burger down across from me. "I'm the one experiencing the headaches; I'm the one terrified of having these damn things because every time I do, something bad happens." I slammed my fist on the table, jolting the silverware; I couldn't help the tears pooling my eyes.

I ignored some of the looks of customers I was gaining attention from. I lowered my voice and continued my rant, not giving a shit. This needed to be said.

"I'm the one who has to see you die," I throw my napkin at Dean; his face solemn, pain etching his gorgeous face. Great. On top of everything I was making him feel bad. "I'm the one who saw Sam being stabbed for days after it happened. I see people attack me; I see bad things happening to good people! I see…I see awful things…" My voice choked up and I looked down at the table, avoiding both of them. "I'm the one who feels it. So stop giving me this stupid 'we' crap."

I could feel Sam's frown with my entire body as I got up to use the bathroom and probably stay there until we left…or until Dean broke the "women's bathroom" barrier and came in to get me.


I approached the table a few minutes after cooling off in the bathroom. Sam and Dean looked up at me expectedly; both of them had looks between concern and irritation on their faces. The irritation instantly faded after seeing me come back to the table.

I swallowed, looking from Dean to Sam before sitting next to my boyfriend. "I…was childish for storming off like that. I'm sorry." I looked up at them, angling myself to face both even though I was seated next to Dean. "And…for the outburst too. Sometimes it just pents up."

Dean ran his hand over my thigh and I looked up at him as he leaned forward and kissed my forehead.

"We understand why you're upset."

I nod softly and I looked at Sam. "But I shouldn't be taking it out on the only people who can help me."

"And who care about you," Sam said softly as I looked into his eyes. "Very much."

Dean nodded, agreeing. "And I know you're worried but we are too. And seeing you in that kind of pain…it affects us just as much as you going through it."

Softly and embarrassed. "I know. I'm sorry."

Sam smiled softly and pushed my French fries across the table. "Apology accepted."

Dean smirked "Yeah, we were wondering if you wanted to try and look into the future and see the winning lotto numbers."

I shoved him. "I can't turn it off and on Dean! I'm not a light switch."

He snorted and fed me a French fry. "I'm joking." I took the fry as he fed me and couldn't help but smile as he tapped my nose with his finger.

"That's my girl. Hope our daughter gets that smile."

I chuckled softly and picked at a few more of my fries. I saw Kary approach the table; total "hit on" eyes flirting with Sam. She leaned down with the pot of coffee. "Can I freshen you up?"

I raised my eyebrows as Sam smiled, awkwardly pushing his little cup towards her. "Yeah, sure. Thanks."

I bit my lip. Why the sudden interest Kary? I nearly rolled my eyes at myself and dipped another French fry before eating it. Who was I kidding? Our waitress, and sometimes even a waiter, noticing the looks of Sam and Dean and tripping over themselves to flirt with them was a regular occurrence when we went out to eat.

Kary smiled the whole time she filled Sam's cup up; then she accidently overfilled it. I bit my lip, holding back a smile as she scrambled to clean up the mess.

"I'm so sorry!"

Sam shook his head, running his hand over the table with his napkin, trying to help the stricken girl. "Oh, no worries. That's okay. I got it."

She sexily, God the girl was trying hard, wiped up the coffee with a rag from her band of her waitress uniform and smiled. "It's no trouble, really."

And Sam was dumbfounded; just for a moment, to give him any credit. "Okay."

"Sorry about that." She leaned in close to him, Sam leaning back just an inch, as she wiped up the coffee residue. As Kary leaned back up, she gave him a flirtatious smile and turned on her heel, walking back towards to kitchen.

I snorted. "Subtle."

"Dude. If you were ever gonna get lucky." Dean smirked and leaned forward, catching one more glimpse of her before she disappeared into the kitchen. I elbowed him and he grunted, leaning back and glaring at me, rubbing his sore side.


I rolled my eyes. "Of what? I don't need to throw myself all over someone, giggling like an idiot, to attract someone."

"Aw come on Andy, don't sell yourself short," Dean winked at me. "That's how you attracted me."

I laughed and rolled my eyes, sipping my water. Sam chuckled softly and lifted his mug to sip from it. It happened fast. From one slip of his hand, coffee spilled everywhere, including on me. I gasped as hot liquid spilled on my jeans while Sam stood up, trying to avoid the spill. A passing waiter knocked right into Sam avoiding the coffee and fell over, spilling the food and the drinks on waiter's tray all over sitting patrons.

Dean hurriedly grabbed a few napkins and handed them to me. I bit my lip. "Ouch." Sam winced and apologized to me and then to the waiter on the floor.

Dean frowned. "Now how is that good?"

I stood up and padded Sam's pocket and turned it inside out. I looked up at him as I turned out an empty pocket. "Son of a bitch! Kary the waitress pick-pocketed you! I knew she was up to no good! Who flirts with spilling coffee?"

Dean groaned as Sam swallowed and looked extremely guilty. "Congratulations, Andy. You're a detective. Let's go catch the bitch before she gets away."

I resisted pouting at Dean's words and followed him outside, Sam running behind me.

"Come on. She couldn't have gotten very far." Dean waited for a car to pass before running across the parking lot to get to the Impala.

I ran with him, hearing"oof!", a crunch and a groaning noise from Sam. I stopped on my heel and turned to look at him, chest down on the concrete.

"Wow. You suck." I winced and regretted my little remark as I went to help him up, seeing his skinned knees. "Aw, Sammy."

He winced too, apparently feeling the sting of his skinned knees and the broken skin on his hands.

Dean came up around the other side of us. "So, what, now your luck turns bad?"

Sam swallowed. "I guess."

Dean looked at me and made a face that can only be described as 'oh shit'. "I wonder how bad."

I looked up at Sam, his floppy hair in front of his eyes. I scoffed affectionately and pushed it away from his face. He smiled weakly at me.

"Let's get you to the car."

I walked him through the parking lot, hoping some of my better luck rubbed off on him, and helped him into the car.


After maneuvering on a new, non-coffee stained pair of jeans in the back of the Impala, I attempted to clean up Sam's clumsiness.

"Hold still." I tore off another band aid with my teeth and cleaned Sam's right knee with the antiseptic and cotton swab.

He gritted his teeth. "Kind of hard when you're doing that."

I smiled up at him as Dean parked the car outside of Grossman's apartment. "Big baby." I looked down at the cut again and put the band aid over it best I could. "You should have taken your pants off for this—"

"Alright, Andy. That's enough naughty nurse from you." Dean pulled the keys out of the ignition, his tone half kidding and half serious.

I laughed. "I meant because the band aid is getting caught on the frayed part of his jeans. It's kind of hard to clean and cover cuts when you have fabric in the way."

"No one volunteered you to be the nurse." Sam commented, cleaning up the stray trash from the first aid kit.

I opened my mouth, offended. "Hey, I was only trying to help!" He smiled and threw a cotton ball at me.

"Maybe you should stay in the car, Sam." Dean said, turning around to look at us. "Bad luck and all…you could get us hurt in there."

"If he stays in here your car it might magically lose its break and back into the truck we're parked in front of…that'd be bad luck Dean."

He glared at me. "Point taken Core. Fine, he can come. But only because my car's well being is at stake and you're babysitting." He got out of the car and I turned my head to see Sam pout a moment.

"I don't need to be babysat."

I chuckled. "Sam…you have Barbie band aids on your skinned knees because you tripped over yourself while running," I grinned. "You need a baby sitter." He rolled his eyes. "Let's go!"

I got out of the car and waited for him to get out before we headed upstairs to confront Grossman. He was taking a swig from a liquor bottle in his hand as we entered the apartment. He looked solemn, upset, and ridiculous in that sombrero on his head.

"Oh, man." He groaned upon seeing us again. "What do you want?"

I looked around the apartment, still a mess from our previous encounter with these two. I went to stand closer to Dean as he spoke about Grossman's friend but then decided against it as I felt Sam shift behind me. Maybe it was better if I stayed closer to him…in case his bad luck decided to make him trip over something or even worse. At least I could help in some way to prevent it…right?

"We know someone hired you to steal the rabbit's foot –a woman." Dean put his gun back in the waistband of his jeans.

Grossman looked skeptical and took another swing from the bottle. "Yeah? How do you know that?"

"Because she just stole it back from us." I could feel Dean glaring at him as he started to laugh, the sombrero sliding to the side of his head as he chuckled.

I was about to just ask with the gun, more like have my gun do the talking instead of my mouth, in the back of Dean's pants but I was distracted…no, tackled by a clumsy cursed Sam. Sam stepped forward to say something to Grossman; probably a puppy look speech that would get him to confess the woman's name, but his foot caught on a wire on the floor.

There went the stereo and a lamp…and a huge Sam right into me. I squealed as knocked into me and I collided to the ground with an 'oof' and the sound of the light bulb smashing as the lamp fell. I groaned as I felt the entire weight of his body collide into mine against the wooden floor. Oh yeah, definitely some bruising tomorrow.

"Andy, you okay?"

I coughed and tried to push Sam off me. He staggered, trying to get up as well. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Yeah, me too," Sam muttered dryly, holding out a hand to help me up. "Thanks for asking."

"I want you to tell us her name." Dean said, re-directing his attention back to Grossman.

I tried to look around at the back of me to see if I had any glass from the shattered light bulb on my clothes. Sam cocked his head and turned me around and brushed some stray pieces as Dean tired to talk Grossman into telling us who the masked bitch was in the diner. I still couldn't believe we let her swipe that right under our noses.

"Now, if you don't help us stop this thing, that puts those deaths on your head. Now, I can read people. And I get it: you're a thief and a scumbag. That's fine. But you're not a killer. Are you?"


I looked at Dean as we walked down the steps of Grossman's apartment. "You didn't actually think that Grey's Anatomy inspirational speech was going to work, did you?"

He playfully glared at me. "Quiet you! That speech came from the heart," I let out a giggle and he smiled, "and that show has its strong points…very addicting."

I smiled softly and shook my head, stepping onto the concrete. "You become a girl more and more each day."

He pouted and was about to retort but his cell rang. He dug the phone out of his pocket. "Hello?...Hey Bobby."

Dean nodded at me and I smiled, going over to Sam, who was standing by a grate.

"Bobby, that's great. Except Sam, uh…Sam lost the foot…" Dean winced and held the phone away from his ear as, I'm guessing, Bobby tore him a new one over that fact.

I heard Sam groan and I turned to look at him. "What's the matter?"

He sighed. "I stepped in gum."

I bit my lower lip, trying to hold back some laughter. "Sam…you're saying that like it's the end of the world. It's just gum. Scrape it off on the side of the curb or something."

I turned my attention towards Dean, catching some of his sentence. "And she only gave the guys she hired a name –- probably an alias or something…" He looked at Sam."Luigi" or something?"

"Lugosi". Sam corrected, trying to maneuver the back of his shoe against the end of a hole in the street grate.

"Bela Lugosi? That's cute." Dean smirked and I rolled my eyes and looked back at Sam.

"You keep doing that it's going to come off. Just do it on a curb, Sam."

Sam glared at me. "I can scrap gum off—" I just shook my head as his shoe caught on the edge of the grate and flopped off into the grate, splashing into the water below.

I sighed softly and looked at him. "Apparently you can't…"

I've never seen him look so forlorn. He looked like a puppy that had been thrown out of a car in a brown paper bag.

Dean hung up the phone and looked at us. Sam looked up at him, frown in place, he seriously looked like he was about to cry.

"What?" Dean asked, looking from me to Sam.

He looked up at him with a pout, his shoulders sulking. "I lost my shoe."

Dean looked down at his foot and sighed, rolling his eyes. He turned around and headed back to the car. I looked at Sam.

"I told you…"

"Shut up."

I smirked as he snapped at me. "Hey, don't be mean to me…I'll make you walk on the damp ground and puddles to get to the car, Mister Sock."

I grinned at him, heading to the trunk to get another pair of shoes for Sam.


"So this…Bela is a hunter?"

Dean shook his head, turning the car right onto another street. "No, she's not a hunter. Knows the ropes of one I suppose, knows enough to avoid them when she's trying to trade some deals."

"So she's…other than a thief she trades with buyers for a high price. Great. So she's a very rich thief." I leaned back against the seat.

"Bobby say where she was putting up house?" Sam asked, looking at Dean as he pulled into a motel.

"He said she was shacking up in Queens. Pretty nice neighborhood too."

"Surprise, surprise." Bitter. Boy did I sound bitter. Nothing wrong with wanting a little money to settle down with. "So what are we doing at a motel if she's in Queens?"

"Sam is staying here because I don't want his bad luck getting us killed."

Sam sighed. "I'm sitting right here you know…and I can hear you."

Dean looked at him. "Right. So get out so we can get a room and lock you up in it. It's the best I can do here, Sam. I don't you getting us killed or you getting hurt. So let's go."

Dean got out of the car and I sighed, following him. "I'll stay with him. Make sure he's okay."

He stopped and looked at me. "Wait, you want to stay with Sam?"

My eyes flickered to Sam as he got out of the car and then back to Dean. "Well…yeah." I swallowed.

Frown lines were prominent around his mouth. "Why? You want his bad luck to deep fry you if you try to use the stove or—"

"You're being dramatic." I cut him off.

"Am I? Come on Andy, it can't be safe for you to stay with him."

"I'm standing right here." Sam sighed.

Dean snapped. "Go get a room."

I closed my eyes and rubbed my forehead as Sam wordlessly made his way to the check in desk inside. "Look Dean, yeah it's more dangerous but I think that's why I have to stay. I don't want anything to happen to him."

He sighed. "Fine." He turned to get in the car and I swallowed.

"Wait, Dean…" I touched his arm, pulling him a little towards me. "Don't go away angry." I frowned.

"Andy, I get you don't want him to get hurt but—"

"Dean, he's all I have." He looked at me—hurt, anger, confusion—so many emotions in his eyes. I let go of his arm and looked at the ground. "After you…he's—he'll be all I have. I can't let anything happen to him." My voice grew softer and softer as I spoke, the last word out of my mouth so quiet that a car horn blare down the street blocked out the sound.

He swallowed, leaning over and kissing my forehead. The wind whipping through the parking let brought his scent to my nose. I breathed in deeply.

Softly—maybe a bit strained. "I'll be back."

I nodded once as he pulled back, getting in the car and driving away. The words "be careful" frozen between my tongue and my lips. I sniffled, wiped the single stray tear from my cheek and went inside.


I found the room Sam was in by asking the check in desk. I pushed the door open and looked at Sam.

His eyebrows twitched, frown lines appearing. Both of these boys were too gorgeous to be frowning all the time.

"What's wrong?"

I shook my head. "Nothing."

I closed to door and took a chair from the small table by the closet door and set it in the center of the room. "Sit. Don't move—don't even scratch your nose."

He rolled his eyes and sat down. "What if I need to sneeze?"

I smirked softly and grabbed another chair, sitting across from him. "Don't do that either, who knows what will happen—you might set me on fire or something."

His lips lifted, this time smiling at me.

I smiled back and took my jacket off, setting it on the bed.

"Dean mad at you?"

I shrugged one shoulder. "What gave that away?" Sarcasm hanging on all my words.

He smiled. "Come on—think I don't know what angry or sad looks like on your face after all these years?"

I swallowed and looked at my knees, trying to find something interesting about them to avoid eye contact.

Sam went on anyways, regardless of not having my attention. "Your cheeks flush, your eyes dim—not as bright of a blue or something. Your mouth has a permanent frown line around it," I touched my lips as he spoke, "and your nose crinkles."

I touched my nose then and looked at him. He smiled and gave a small smirk. "Just a little."

I scoffed and shook my head. "Fine, I'm upset. Dean is mad at me because I wanted to stay with you."

He frowned. "To babysit?"

"No…well yes," I frowned too and sighed. "not exactly. I wanted to make sure you…stayed okay. I mean, I think you're highly capable, I just—" Why was this so hard to get out? "…and everything…I mean, of course you are—you're a hunter." Sam raised his eyebrows. "You grew up with me."

He slowly smiled. "I know Andy…I was there; you don't have to remind me."

I glared. Great now he was teasing. "I'm just saying—"

Sam nodded, bringing his hand up to stop my talking. "Please stop rambling," He chuckled. "I get it."

"…you do?" How could he have possibly followed that?

"Yeah," he smiled, head cocking to the side. "Yeah, I get it."

I smiled and felt and probably looked a lot more relieved. "Good."

It was silent for a while, just the sounds of Sam and I breathing in the room. The heat kicked on from the furnace every once in a while and I could hear the wind whip through a crack or hole in the window.

"Look," Sam said, breaking the silence. I leaned forward to place my elbows on my knees. "I know you told me to let go of this Ruby thing but, Andy…"

I shook my head, getting up to pace. "No Sam."

He sighed and tried again. "Andy."

"No," I glared at him. "You don't get to—has my dad and John taught you nothing? Go to a demon, really? What are you on?"

He leaned back in the chair. He looked offended. "Don't look at me like that, don't look at me like-like I'm some type of freak for thinking about this."

I closed my eyes. "I wasn't—"

He cut me off. "Because honestly, you'd think you'd be on the bandwagon with this-or at least contemplate it! If this is the only way to save Dean, I say let's take it! And don't bring up John, Andy. Seriously? Are you forgetting about how John died?"

"A demon deal." I opened my eyes.

He stood and pointed at me. "To save Dean! In any way he could, even if it was making a deal with a demon. We have to try."

I just shook my head and looked away from him as he approached me. He put his hands on my arms and squeezed softly until I looked at him. I swallowed.

"I'm already—Dean told us to drop this. If he found out we were still considering a demon to save him…" I felt a tear slide down my cheek. God I had grown upset over this much quicker than I realized. "He'd be livid and I don't want the last memory I have of him to be how pissed he is at me."

Sam frowned softly, running his thumbs over my arms.

"And he will figure out that we're still on this. He's not stupid." I wiped the tear off my cheek and Sam sighed softly, leaning forward to hug me.

No matter how angry he was, he could never stand to see me cry. And I could tell he was pretty mad about this. He wanted to save Dean, so bad, just like I did. I had to remember that.

I leaned into his hug. My voice was muffled by his shirt as I spoke. "If Ruby wants a deal—one of us will have to say yes. And I can't bear to lose you too."

Sam placed his lips on my head. "And if she has another way?"

I pulled back and looked up at him, swallowing as our lips were inches apart. I looked down at his lips and licked my own. He leaned in painfully slow—

And I didn't move until I saw a flicker of something bright out of the corner of my eye. I gasped. FIRE.


He leaned back quickly and gaped at the curtain on fire, the heater near the window smoking. How could we have been so busy arguing that we forget Sam was a walking bad luck charm?

I ran to the window and tried to pull down the other curtain to pat the fire out. "Damn your bad luck!" I looked at him. "Help me!"

He rushed into action, like all he needed was my voice to signal him. He grabbed the comforter and ran to the flames, patting it until it went out. I let out a sigh and my eyes widened.

"Sam, your arm!"

He raised his arm, which had also caught the flame. How unlucky. He let out a strangled cry and I rushed to put it out with the comforter.

Of course, he tripped on the comforter, it got wrapped around his foot somehow as he flailed in effort to put the flame out even though I was trying to help. Good news was, I got the flame out.

Bad news… "Sam!" I squealed as he tripped and fell foreword on me. I lost my balance as he collided with me and fell back, hitting my head off the window sill.

I was out before my body hit the ground, Sam's body falling on top of me.


I groaned softly and slowly lifted my head. The back of my head throbbed with a pain that had to be inhuman. I winced as the bright lights of the hotel room felt like pins in my eyes. I heard Sam groan and say something about Gordon.

Gordon? What? Who was he talking to…God, if I could just get my eyes to open all the way. I was still on the floor, as far as I could tell. It felt like scratchy carpet rubbing against the back of my arms.

I heard a slap against skin, something hard and fast…and then Sam groaning. I had to get up. I had to help. Someone was here hurting Sam. I slowly turned my head to look at the direction of the sound…and that was my downfall.

A man no taller than Dean…and as far from attractive has one could get if we were still comparing him to Dean yanked my arm to pull me up.

I yelped as he pulled me up and roughly held him against me. "Oh look who's awake."

"Don't you touch her." Sam spat. He was blurry. Fuck my eyes.

I tried to rub them but the asshole who was holding onto me forced me into the chair I had been before the fire.

"We won't," Asshole two responded, I rubbed my eyes and that made it clearer. "As long as you talk with us and stop trying to avoid our questions. Now Gordon told me about you, Sam –- about your powers. You're some kind of weirdo, psychic freak."

Sam sighed and I winced softly as my head started pounding again. "No, not anymore. No powers, no visions, nothing."

Before I could even move or know what the hell was going on, Asshole one ripped my shirt at the shoulder, tugging it away and I screamed as he ran the blade of a knife over my shoulder. Blood seeped through the cut, running down my shoulder and over my chest.

"Hey! Stop it," Sam struggled against the ropes tying him to the chair. "You son of a bitch!" He screamed. "I told you I didn't—"

"Now, no more lies." Asshole two warned. "Or she'll get a matching one on her other shoulder."

I tried not to whimper as I gathered up the ripped part of the shirt, balled it together the best I could and pressed it against the seeping wound. I bit my lip hard and could feel Sam's eyes on me as he breathed in, pissed to high heaven.

"There's an army of demons out there, pushing at a world already on the brink."

Sam wasn't even listening to him; all he could do was stare at my shoulder. He was probably wondering if I needed stitches or not…I didn't think it was that deep.

"We're on deck for the end game here, right? So, maybe –- just maybe –- you can understand why we can't take chances."

When Asshole two raised his gun, I gasped. "Whoa, okay. Just hold on a minute."

"Kubrick—" Asshole one said, slowly…unsure.

"Kubrick, is it?" I asked, he looked at me. "Look, you don't want to do this. Gordon is a lying bastard. You'd be killing an innocent person."

"No." He then looked at Asshole one. "You saw what happened, Creedy."

Creedy? Kubrick? God their mothers had a sense of humor while naming them. God I should have seen this coming. Fuck. What the hell did I have visions for if I couldn't prevent this from happening? I should have been looking up the name Kubrick as soon as I had that vision at Bobby's house.

"Ask yourself: why are we here?" He continued, waving the gun a little. "Because you saw a picture on the Web? Because we chose this motel instead of another? Luck like that doesn't just happen."

I swallowed. "Actually…"

"Look, I can explain all of this—" Sam tried, interrupting me.

"Shut up." Kubrick spat and Sam swallowed, shutting his mouth. He eyed the gun like it was a poisonous snake ready to strike.

"It's God, Creedy. He led us here for one reason: to do his work. This is destiny."

I rolled my eyes and squeezed my shoulder. "Oh come on? God? Out of all people, he wants you two chuckleheads to do his holy work? Please." I snorted and Sam cleared his throat, his eyes widening.


Kubrick turned the gun towards me and I swallowed. "And what do you know about God, missy."

"I know he's not reaching down and stroking your ego. Get over yourself."

"She's right you know." I sighed, relived as I heard Dean's voice. I craned my neck to turn and see him come in through the door and aim his gun at Kubrick. "No destiny. Just a rabbit's foot."

Kubrick scoffed. "Put the gun down, son, or you're gonna be scraping your brain off the wall." He sneered.

Dean smirked and gestured to his gun. "Oh, this thing? Okay." He put his gun down.

"Dean." I panicked and looked at Sam, who looked just as dumbfounded as I did.

"But you see, there's something about me that you don't know." Dean continued, picking up a random pen on the table near the door.

Kubrick sighed, fed up. He turned around and aimed his gun at Dean instead. "Yeah? What would that be?"

Dean grinned. "It's my lucky day."

He flicked his wrist and threw the pen at Kubrick and all the while I was thinking: this is it. My stupid ass boyfriend is going to die because of a pen.But to my utter surprise, forgetting we had a magic rabbit's foot at our disposal, the pen flew right into the barrel of the gun, jamming it. My eyes widened to the point where it felt like they'd burst out of my head.

"Oh, my God! Did you see that shot?" Dean was pretty shocked himself and I just looked at Sam, his mouth wide open, matching the shocked expression my eyes were holding.

Though Dean's shock quickly shifted to being totally pleased with himself as Creedy went to punch him and all he did was step aside. Creedy ran into the wall and knocked himself out.

The next part had Dean making a face that was just so thoroughly pleased; it looked like he thought he invented the idea of badass moves.

Just as Kubrick removed the pen, Dean picked up a remote on the same table and wailed it at him. It hit his head and he collapsed to the floor.

He smirked at me. "I'm Batman."

I rolled my eyes and went over to Sam, trying to undo the ropes holding him to the chair. God my shoulder was on fire. "Yeah…you're batman alright."

I ignored his pout and motioned him to get over here. "Stop pouting batman and get out some type of bat-knife and undo these ropes."


"So, Bela right? She's a thief."

"And a high class bitch, one in the same I guess." Dean grunted, walking past a gravestone.

"Hmm." I said softly, walking in the grass next to Sam. I shifted the bag on my other shoulder, the one that asshole didn't cut into. "So she's not a good thief then…"

Dean smirked and turned his head to look at me. "Good thief? Come on, Andy."

I sighed softly. "Look, guys, I'm telling you. She's not like it seems. I mean, you should have seen…" I licked my lips as Dean stopped in a patch of grass and put his bag down. He slugged off his leather jacket and put it on a grave.

"Just, if she was the little girl I saw in my vision, there's something off with her. Something…dark and confused." I frowned and looked up at them. "Sad." I admitted softly.

"She didn't look sad when she was shooting at me." Dean commented wryly, starting a small fire with small blocks of wood he set in a circle of stones.

I sighed softly. "Well that's what I mean, something happened to her and now she's all…mean and gun happy."

Sam smirked and took the ingredients out of the bag. "All right. Bone ash, cayenne pepper and…" He sprinkled the contents over the fire, muttering something in Latin; the fire glowed a bright blue and then returned to normal, "that should do it."

I saw Dean scratch a lottery ticket while leaning onto one of the gravestones. "That's disrespectful you know."

Sam sighed and tried to go towards him but he looked up. "Hey, back off, Jinx. I'm bringing home the bacon."

He smiled and put the tickets in his jacket pocket and came over with the rabbit's foot over the fire.

"All right. Say goodbye, Wascally Wabbit."

I smiled softly and leaned into Dean's side. "Poor bunny."
A small pout came over my mouth and he smirked and rubbed small circles into my back.

"I think you'll find that belongs to me." I frowned as I heard a female British voice; I turned and stood beside Dean, looking at…

"Oh, you must be Bela." I said softly.

She smiled softly and shrugged. "Well, not exactly mine but… whatever. Put the foot down, honey." She raised her gun and clicked off the safety.

I tensed and looked at Dean. He smirked softly. "No. You're not gonna shoot anybody. See, I happen to be able to read people."

I licked my lower lip. "Bela, look, this rabbit's foot—"

"Is worth a lot of money sweetheart, if you think I'm just going to let you light it on fire…you are sadly mistaken."

Dean's hand didn't move from holding the rabbit's foot over the fire.

I tried again. "Bela, come on. Is money really the most important thing to you? How the hell did you become so—?"

A shot rang out and I screamed at the searing pain in my shoulder. The shot itself almost made me fall over, my feet tripping over themselves. I felt Sam rush up behind me, holding me up as my legs turned into jello.

"Son of a—" Dean shouted, moving forward to—knock the bitch out. And I was done caring what happened to her. She fucking shot me!

I moaned softly as Sam took his jacket off and pressed it into the wound. "Ow." I hissed and leaned into him.

"Your girlfriend talks far too much."

She then aimed the gun at Dean and everything got deafeningly quiet. All one could hear was the fire crackling and very small whimpers that escaped my tight lips.

"Back off. You make one more move, and I'll pull the trigger. You've got luck, Dean." She smiled, it was bitter. "You, I can't hit. But your brother and girlfriend? Them, I can't miss."

Dean's teeth ground together as he spoke. "What the hell is wrong with you? You don't just go around shooting people like that!"

"Relax. It's a shoulder hit. I can aim." I looked at her as Sam held his jacket on my shoulder. He squeezed tight, trying to stop the bleeding. When I whimpered he whispered a sorry.

Holy fuck; I was not looking forward to a game of "digging the bullet out" when we returned to Bobby's.

"Besides," Bela continued. "Who here hasn't shot a few people?"

She smirked softly at me and I glared at her, ready to reach in my bag and shoot her goddamn head off. Sam's hands tensed on my shoulder and I hissed, turning to look at him. It was like he could read the anger rolling off my body in waves. Yeah, yeah, I was a hypocrite. I got it. I wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, but if she was going to shoot us and not listen to reason why should I lead with benefit instead of bullets.

"Put the rabbit's foot on the ground, now." I watched Dean sigh and take a step back.

"All right!" He put his hands up a moment. "All right, take it easy."

Dean started to bend down to rest the rabbit's foot on the ground, and then jerked up, throwing it. "Head's up!" He called quickly.

Bela gasped and faltered with her gun, using her hand to catch the rabbit's foot. I smirked.

"Dumb move, bitch." I muttered through gritted teeth. The pain was unbearable, moving just from my shoulder and into my entire body.

She closed her eyes and sighed heavily. "Son of a bitch."

Dean smirked and waved his hand towards the fire. "Now, what do you say we destroy that ugly-ass piece of dead thing?"

She sighed again and tossed the foot into the fire, blue flames licking the fur. "Thanks very much. I'm out one and a half million, and on the bad side of a very powerful, fairly psychotic buyer."

I smirked. "Wow. I really don't feel bad about that. What about you two?"

Sam smiled and Dean shrugged. "Nope. Not even a little."

"Hm. Maybe next time, I'll hang you out to dry." Bela lamented dryly, leaning on Dean's jacket as she put her gun away.

I grunted as Sam pulled the shirt away to dry and get a look at my shoulder. Dean turned to look at me and then at Bela, waving her off. "Aw, please. Don't go away angry. Just go away."

Bela smiled at me as Dean came around the other side of me, tugging my shirt as well to try and get a look at my wound. I just shook my head. I thought there…I just thought there was something redeemable in her and I was so wrong. I was, wasn't I? Had the bullet in my shoulder to prove it?

"Have a nice night." She said, her British drawl hanging on the end of her words. It just occurred to me that she had been using an American accent in the diner.

She smirked and walked away. "Ow, Dean! Stop poking me."

He looked up at me as Sam went to put the fire out after the foot finished burning. "I'm not poking you; I'm sliding the skin back a little so I can see…"

"The gaping wound? Yeah, Dean, whatever you're doing hurts. There's a bullet in there!"

He smirked. "Don't be bitchy, Andy."

I pouted as he put Sam's jacket back on my shoulder and squeezed hard. "It hurts."

He smiled softly and kissed my forehead. "I know. We should get you home to get that out of there."

Dean put his arm around me as we walked up to Sam, who gathered the bags. "I guess we're back to normal now, huh? No good luck, no bad luck."

I shrugged with my good shoulder. "More bad luck then good…but yeah. We have Advil in the car?"

"Well its either Advil now or alcohol when we stitch you up."

I sighed. "Decisions, decisions." Sam chuckled and I smiled at him.

"Oh! I forgot." Dean smiled and dug in his jacket pocket. "We're up forty-six thousand dollars. I almost forgot about the scratch tickets!"

I smirked softly and shook my head. "I can't believe you used the luck to win scratch tickets."

He patted his pockets. "Well yeah! We need the money; we're not exactly living the good life with our credit card scams and pool games."

"Which we cheat at." Sam smiled slowly at him.

Dean's smile faded as he pulled his hand out of his pocket.

"What's wrong?" I asked him, leaning against the door of the Impala as Sam put the bags in the trunk.

"Son of a bitch!" He yelled and I winced.

Sam scoffed. "She took the tickets didn't she?"

Dean just glared, swore a number of profanities and helped me into the car.


I woke up in a hazy state. My shoulder stung from the stitches Dean put in from the moment we got back to Bobby's. I turned my head to squint at the time. I rubbed my eyes and the red dots actually became numbers. Oh the joys and haziness of good vodka. Three in the morning.

I slowly pulled myself out of Dean's arms and went into the bathroom. I did not feel good but I refused to vomit. I was hot and sweaty; part from the vodka and the other from the dull heat radiating from the stitches on my shoulder. I slowly took off my shirt and fixed my tank top underneath.

I put cold water on a washcloth and dabbed my face, taking off the slight sheen of sweat on my face. I sighed and put the washcloth on the tub and came out of the bathroom, turning the light off. The nightlight on the side wall near the door dimly illuminated some parts of the room.

I went over to the crib and smiled at a sleeping Riley. I pulled up her blanket over her chest, smoothing out the demon's trap sewn onto the smooth fabric. I gently ran my hand over her head and looked at Dean lying in bed on his chest, breathing out and in. His arm was over where I slept, like he was looking for me in his sleep.

I needed a cup of water.

I slowly went downstairs and through the hallway and heard mumblings of a TV from the living room. Was someone awake?

I poked my head into the living room and saw Sam sprawled out on the couch in his drawstring pajama bottoms and a crisp white t-shirt. A maroon blanket was over his legs. He turned his head as he saw me walk into the room.

The dim blue light of the television danced on his face. "Hey." He smiled softly.

"Hi." My voice was groggy and cracking in several places. "Couldn't sleep?"

He shook his head. "Nope. Late night re-runs of Grey's Anatomy was too tempting to ignore."

I smiled slowly and went over to sit on the edge of the wooden coffee table across from him.

"What about you?"

"I came down for some water." I yawned. "I'm overheated."

Sam sat up and leaned over to look at my stitches. "The light sucks in here but they don't look inflamed or anything. So that's good. No infection. I'll get you some water." He stood and headed into the kitchen.

I covered my mouth as another yawn escaped me and I sat on the couch. Sam's feet padded through the hallway and came in with my water. I took it as he sat back in his seat in the corner of the couch.

I sipped it and licked my lips. "So Grey's Anatomy huh?"

He smiled and bumped shoulders with me. "Yeah, wanna join for a little?"

I smirked and finished the water. I set the cup down on the wooden table and put my legs up on the couch, leaning my shoulder into his. "Yeah, sure."

I was falling asleep on him before the episode was even half over. I felt him pull the blankets over me and turn the volume down just a bit more before I completely fell asleep.