He opens the door to his motel and finds her sitting in a chair lit by a single lamp. John immediately curses himself for not being more careful. Then again, he knows on his best day he's no match for one of the Daughters. Thank God it's just Lilly, he thinks. Then instantly thinks better of feeling lucky. Knowing she knows now, he's probably not altogether out of danger.
"I have always admired your gall, John Winchester." She says coolly.
"Yeah, well, what can I say?" He closes the door behind him, scans the room for signs of anyone else, still not sure this is going to end with him not bleeding from somewhere.
"Start with wear you get the nerve to ask for my help."
"So, no polite chit chat?" He dumps his duffle bag on the bed.
"What for?" She is perfectly still and he has to admit it's pretty disconcerting, "We're family after all. Speaking of which, what should I call you now? Step Dad? Pop?"
"What do you want from me, Lilly?" He's got bigger issues right now and he's never been a good emotional punching bag. Whether or not he deserved it.
"What do I want? I want to dangle you by the ankle over an open pit of snakes." She hisses. Unnervingly, he can and does picture her doing it. She finally stands, "You're awfully lucky that looking for an open pit of snakes is really not a productive use of our time this evening."
She steps toward the door, "You're their mess to clean up. Don't lie to them and don't brush them off. You owe them that at the very least."
She's right and he has nothing to say to that.
"I don't know where he is, Lilly." He offers, a small token, he knows.
"I didn't ask."
He must look puzzled because she shoots him a look that by all rights should leave him with bruises, "It will be a long time before I believe a fucking word out of either your mouth or my father's." He thinks of his sons and wonders if their next meeting will be this cold. The regrets, old and new, swirl around him like they always do.
She stops in the open doorway, "Well? Are you coming? I thought we had work to do."