Part One
The taillights were barely visible – two glowing red specks being swallowed by a steadily increasing blanket of white. The wind, carrying pounds of fresh snow with each gust, was causing the lights to grow dimmer by the second. Their own vehicle, a four-wheel drive SUV, was sturdy and still capable of navigating the snowy highway, but not for much longer. As they approached the dull, red lights, the dark form of a car became clear.
"Shit!" cried Bre.
"I told you that's what happened," said Kalli, the younger woman sitting beside her. They shared a glance and, after a deep breathe, both plunged out of the car into the storm.
Some 15 minutes later, the old black car was attached to the back of the SUV and was being gingerly pulled back along the snowy highway. It slid and bucked, threatening to pull the larger vehicle from the road every few feet.
"You sure you saw something close by?" Bre asked.
"I did…it was - there!" Kalli cried, pointing to a small road, a long gravel driveway really, that remained only just navigable for their truck.
"Lucky for them. I was about to cut them loose," Bre grumbled.
10 minutes down the blowing road, they pulled up at an abandoned farmhouse almost up to its lower windows in white powder. Around the back, they found a large, nearly empty barn big enough for both vehicles.
Once inside the barn, they shut the door as far as they could.
The impact had broken the back window of the car and snow filled the back seat. The two men, though breathing, were non-responsive to their calls.
"Cover your eyes," said Bre, and smashed the rear passenger window.
It didn't take long to extricate the unconscious men.
"They're both breathing – for now – but we've got to get them inside and warmed up or they won't be for long. Crap, where's the end of this dude?" Bre joked.
They rolled the men, one at a time, onto long sheets of cardboard and dragged them through the blinding snow, up the back steps, over the threshold and into the kitchen of the old house.
The house was clearly not a home any longer, but it bore all the markings of a temporary lodging. It was sometimes a port in a storm, such as this one, but probably more often than not, a drinking parlor for the local youths. It had rickety furniture clearly rummaged from the local dump, a few blankets and pillows and an enormous number of empty bottles and cans strewn around the floor. Otherwise, it was blissfully empty.
The two women pulled the grubby sofas as close as was safe to the fire now burning in the grate, kicking cans and rolling bottles out of the way as they went. They lifted the two unconscious men, one really almost a boy, if a tall one, onto the sofas and covered them both with what blankets they had.
"That was a beautiful butcher block counter. What a waste!" said Kalli 10 minutes later returning from the kitchen area with an armful of wooden chunks.
"Uh huh…so it was them or the counter? Honestly, I couldn't care less which one makes it," Bre quipped.
Kalli busied herself arranging the provisions they had. The weather report they'd heard just before they saw the car in front of them fishtail and plow into a ditch indicated that it would be at least 24 hours before the snow stopped and up to another 8 -10 hours after that before the highways were clear enough to travel safely. They were well stocked, fortunately, as they had recognized early on that the inevitable might happen and that they might be stuck somewhere along the road. They had been hoping to have arrived at their destination before the worst of it hit.
Outside, the wind howled and snow was blasted against the window panes. Inside, the front room had been sealed off with sliding doors to the front hall, and a plastic tarp over the door leading to the dining room and kitchen beyond through which they'd entered the house. It was getting warmer in the front room by the minute.
The older of the two women, Bre, was in her late-20s. She was busy with her duffel bag. It was large and green and covered with insignia from army platoons and squadrons from all over the world. They had been carefully stitched onto the sides and ends of the old bag. Some were new, the thread still bright and glossy on them, while others were far older, the thread worn and dull. She hauled out a smaller bag and began to search its contents. Her long, dark, wavy hair was pulled back into a tight braid and her face was clear and free of makeup. She had the look of a Grecian statue, but not cold and stony, though her gaze could sometimes feel like it. Her nose was full and strong. Her eyes were dark brown, like melted chocolate, and her lips were pale, but smooth. Her well-muscled arms were flexing beneath the grey shirt and black hoodie she wore.
"Shall I make some tea?" asked the younger woman.
"Yeah. Tea will fix everything," Bre said unenthusiastically.
"Well, I need some," Kalli replied. She was younger, maybe by 5 years or so. She was quite tall and fit. Her arms were long and lean, but strong, as were her legs. Her hair was straight, thick and blonde. It hung loose around her shoulders and over her strong back. Her nose was slightly turned up and her eyes were heavily lidded and so blue that they were almost purple. She pulled her cardigan tighter around her and slipped under the plastic tarp to get some fresh snow to melt.
"Yo, Kal! We've got a live one!" her sister yelled from the front room. Kalli ducked back under the tarp to find one of the men with a knife to Bre's throat, a wild, panicked look on his face.
"Where the hell am I? What have you done to him?" he cried motioning toward the younger man still unconscious on the sofa.
"Listen, buddy, we haven't done anything to either of you except drag your asses out of the snow and save your lives. You want us to put you back where we found you?" growled Bre, growing impatient.
"No, look, you were in the snow, and we pulled you out and brought you here," Kalli said in what she hoped was a soothing voice.
"My Impala!" he suddenly cried. "Where's my car?"
"Outside in the barn. It's fine – well, a few broken windows and stuck in a snow bank for a while – but otherwise fine. Really. We don't want to hurt you," said Kalli.
"Well, I kinda do," retorted Bre causing the man to press the knife harder against her throat.
"Please just calm down-" began Kalli when, suddenly, the man was on the floor with a boot at his shoulder and no knife in his hand.
"Ouch," he said once the boot was removed and he was helped back to the sofa. "I repeat, who the hell are you guys?"
"How about you answer some questions first, pretty boy?" said Bre.
"I ain't answering squat until I know who you are."
"Well, we ain't-" started Bre, when Kalli quickly interrupted.
"-OK, my name is Kalli Deukalion and this is Bre. We're…travelers," she explained vaguely.
"Just where you travelin' to?" he asked gruffly, rubbing his shoulder and eyeing Bre with suspicion.
"Small town outside of Minneapolis," Kalli answered.
"What for?"
"What the hell business is it of yours?" Bre scoffed. "Look, this joker is-"
"Where…am…I?" a quiet voice called out from across the room.
"Hey, hey," the man said, and walked over to his side, "It's OK."
"My head…" the younger man said holding the back of his head.
"You OK?" Kalli asked, moving towards him.
"Hey, don't do that," the older man warned her.
"OK, OK…Look, we might as well calm down and relax here. We will likely be stuck here for 24 more hours before the roads will be passable," Kalli said.
"Yeah. I don't think I am going to feel comfortable while she's holding a knife," the man snapped.
"She'll put it down," said Kalli, pushing her sister's hand to lower the knife.
"Fine," Bre agreed, "but I think we ought to both disarm since this is your knife."
The man rose, nodded and growled, "Fine, let's do this."
The two stood face to face. He pulled a knife out of his pocket, and she pulled one out of a sleeve sheath. He had two small handguns tucked in his belt at the back. She took the one out of her ankle holster and placed it on the table between them.
"Happy?" Bre asked.
"Ecstatic," he grumbled, sitting back down quickly. "Whoa…what's wrong with me?"
"A little carbon monoxide poisoning, I assume. You were in the car for a while before we could get the engine turned off," Kalli explained.
"What's going on?" the younger man said, sitting up slowly, only to slump back against the arm of the sofa.
"Is it alright if I…?" Kalli asked, motioning towards him.
"You armed?" his partner asked her.
"No," Kalli replied as he looked her over trying to find telltale weapons bulges in her clothing.
Bre said, "She doesn't need to be armed."
"Well, what the hell does that mean?" he asked sharply.
"Nothing…she's just being funny," Kalli replied. The older man finally nodded and Kalli moved over to the younger man. She pulled his eyelids up and checked his eyes. They were green and faintly ringed with a darker hazel. He blinked slowly and returned her gaze.
"You look good – I mean your eyes are…OK," she said, her cheeks suddenly warm. The older man smiled – those puppy dog eyes had gotten them out of a lot of scrapes.
"So - what's happening?" the younger man croaked.
"Sorry. You guys were in an accident and we pulled you out. I'm afraid we could only get you this far," Kalli explained.
"Where is this?" he asked, still somewhat groggy.
"An abandoned farm outside of…well, we are pretty near Minneapolis."
"Oh…well, thanks for helping," he said politely.
"Finally some thanks," huffed Bre as she moved all the weapons to a table near a window under the man's watchful gaze.
"Could I have some water?" the young man then asked.
"Yeah, here, have some of this," said his companion, handing him a water bottle.
"Look, we were saying to - um… your boyfriend," Bre started to explain to him.
"Brother…" the young man croaked, a scandalized look on his face.
"Fine, then, to your brother, that we are stuck for at least the next 24 hours if the weather forecast is right. The snow hasn't let up and the roads will take a while to get cleared out here."
The two men shared a look of dissatisfaction.
"Anyone hungry?" Kalli offered, the tension in the room making her nervous.
"I could eat," said the gruff man, his disposition changing slightly at the mention of food.
"I gotta warn you guys – don't get too excited. Vegetarian stew from a can isn't much to get excited about," Bre laughed bitterly.
"Oh…well. Starving is starving, so bring it on," he replied.
Kalli took out the cooking supplies and began to set up near the fire. The younger man made his way slowly over to her.
"Need a hand?" he asked.
"You OK, now? Not still dizzy?"
"I'll be fine."
"Can you work a can opener?"
"I think so," he laughed, and took the can and opener from her hand. "I'm Sam, by the way."
"I'm Kalli," she replied.
"That's a nice blade," the older man said looking over Bre's shoulder as she packed her knives away.
"Yeah. It'll cut through you like butter – I mean if I were so inclined."
"Hey. I'm trying to be nice, here," he said.
"Yeah, well, it's kinda hard to tell with you."
"Yeah. Sorry about that. We never know who to trust in our line of work. I'm Dean."
"I'm Bre," she said and they shook hands briefly. "And what line of work are you fellows in?" she asked with mock casualness.
"Um…sales…" Dean said awkwardly.
"Cut the shit. You guys are hunters. I had a good look in your trunk when you were out cold."
"How – are you two hunters?"
"Of a sort."
"So when you said earlier that she didn't need to be armed, that's what you meant."
"Yeah. It meant she can kill a dude with her bare hands if needs be. We both can, so watch it."
"Dean, could you get some more firewood? There's some in the kitchen back there apparently," Sam called from cross the room.
"Dean? Sam and Dean? Are you guys the Winchesters?" Kalli inquired.
"Oh, my God," Bre cried, the surprise evident in her voice.
"Um…yeah. Do we know you?" Sam asked.
"Uh, no, but we've heard all about John Winchester's boys. Recently as a matter of fact."
"What have you heard exactly?" he then asked.
"Nothing bad…well…I mean that you guys are..." Kalli began to explain, but paused.
"Dickheads!" Bre interjected.
"Hey!" Dean barked.
"No, it's just that…well…your dad has a reputation," Kalli said carefully.
"And what is his reputation?" Sam asked earnestly.
Kalli opened her mouth to speak, but it was clear she couldn't find a nice way to say what she had to say, so she closed it again.
"That your dad, and by extension the two of you, are a bit psycho, leave a bloody swath in your wake and that your brother, Dean, here, can't keep it in his pants," Bre explained to Sam, not saddled by the sense of propriety that Kalli seemed to be.
Dean and Sam shared a glance. Sam shrugged and Dean nodded and said, "Fair enough."
"Drink?" Bre said, waggling the bottle of Vodka in her hand and raising her eyebrows at Dean.
"What the hell," he replied.
"So you guys are the Winchesters. I have heard so much about you from other hunters," Kalli said after some minutes of silence had passed between her and Sam.
"Oh, well, don't believe everything you hear," Sam pleaded mildly.
"I like to make up my own mind," Kalli replied. "Dinner!" she called to Dean and Bre, who were on their third Vodka slushy by then.
The dinner was lively. Bre and Dean were getting plastered and alternating between bickering and flirting. Though the night would likely end for them in one of two ways, neither Kalli nor Sam had any idea which way it would go.
"It doesn't look like its letting up out there, does it? Isn't this kind of a lot of snow for this time of year?" Sam asked Bre as she wiped the dishes with warm soapy water. Her sister cooked and she cleaned up. That was their deal.
"Bloody climate change," she replied. "Good lord, you are a tall drink of water, ain't ya?"
"Apparently."
"Hey, so your brother…um…what's he like in a fight?"
"The best. Strong, fast and unwavering," said Sam.
"How about in the sack?"
"Um... Idon't know personally, but from what I've heard, about the same," said Sam lamely.
"Good to know," Bre replied and checked Dean out across the room.
"That friend of yours…" Dean said.
"Bre."
"Yeah, Bre. What's her story?" he asked, stoking the fire and breaking the wood into kindling while sneaking glances at Bre over his shoulder.
"Maybe you should ask her yourself."
"I may just do that," he said, bringing the fire to a full roar. He dusted off his hands and then moved to the shelves nearby where he grabbed a dusty box from the top shelf. "Anyone for a game of Yahtzee?"
"Me!" Bre cried and threw the towel down. "I'll kick your ass Winchester."
"I'll pay you $50 to stop calling me by my last name."
"I'll pay you $50 if you can remember myname." It was a safe bet for her.
"OK… what are the stakes?" Dean asked with mock irritation.
"Let's play it by ear," she replied tartly.
"Can I help?" Sam asked.
"No, just finishing up," Kalli replied a little nervously. She wasn't sure why, but there was something about Sam Winchester that made her uneasy. It wasn't his reputation or his dad's, though, that made her nervous. She suspected it had to do with something less cerebral.
"OK. You wouldn't have any coffee, would you?" he asked, running his hand through his hair.
"Sorry, just tea," she replied apologetically. "You OK?"
"Yeah, fine. Thanks anyway."
Kalli moved to the sofa nearest the front window and sat down. Sam motioned to the seat beside her and she nodded assent.
"Do you mind if I ask…what got you two into the business."
"Just a job," she replied.
"But why this job?"
"Would you believe it's sort of a family business?"
Sam smiled and nodded. "I would," he answered.
"Right. Of course. For you guys, too. Well, our stories are probably not so different," she said, then paused. Across the room, Bre and Dean were laughing. She looked back as Sam and asked, "Are you really interested in hearing this stuff?"
"I am. You seem to know all about us, but we know nothing about you and it looks like we'll be stuck here for a while," Sam replied motioning to the storm outside. Snow suddenly blasted the windows as if to provide him with ample and timely evidence.
"OK, well. We are sisters – half-sisters actually – the same mother, different fathers. I don't know the complete history, but I understand our family goes way, way back in this particular line of work. I guess the most recent iteration of the 'family business' part started in 1943 when our maternal grandmother came over from England. She worked in Bletchley Park prior to her arrival here. You OK?" she asked. Sam had raised his hand to his head again and closed his eyes.
"Bit of a headache. It's nothing. So she was a code breaker or something?"
"She was. And a good one. The Americans begged her to help with their training for 6 months, so she did, but she had every intention of going back to England. Then she met my grandfather and, well long story short, she stayed here. They both joined this sort of secret society."
"The Masons?" Sam asked and then laughed.
"Not exactly," she replied and laughed as well. It felt nice to laugh. There were times during the last two years when she thought she'd never laugh again. "It was a secret organization of hunters and intelligence gatherers. Their mission was to collect data on every sort of monster and demon in order to preserve the information – spells, incantations, weapons, and what-have-you. They apparently had a secret lair somewhere in the mid-west – Kansas maybe?"
"I've never heard of them."
"I often wonder if it was just one of Grandmother's stories."
"So you got involved because of them?"
"Not exactly," she said, and then added, "This must be really boring for you."
"It isn't. Honestly. Please go on."
"OK. My mother was a code breaker, like her mother before her. She did work for hunters, sort of contract work, so that she could take care of us. Hunters and trackers as well as universities would send codes and script to her for decryption. She got paid or paid in kind and we stayed out of harm's way. That's why we know about your dad, and you guys."
"I repeat: please don't judge us based on what you hear. Hunters can be petty," Sam explained.
"And I repeat: I like to make up my own mind."
"Good. I'm glad to hear it."
"I think there are a few dice missing," Dean laughed, putting the remaining dice into a red plastic cup and shaking them vigorously. "Ha! 18 take that!" he then added as the dice rolled on to the table top.
Bre paused for a long moment and looked across the room at her sister. She inhaled deeply, and then slowly sighed.
"Do you every feel like you're a supporting character in your own life story?" she asked wistfully. Dean closed his eyes and smiled.
"I do – and I'll drink to that," he replied. They clinked their glasses together and then both downed the icy vodka remains.
"More?" she asked.
"God, yes!" he replied, and picked up the cup to roll again.
"Kallistrate? Did I say it right?"
"You did, but most people don't. That's why I go by Kalli. My mother's family is Greek from way back. My grandmother spoke 5 languages: Greek, Italian, English, German and Latin," she counted off on her fingers.
"Quite a polyglot," Sam added gently.
"She was," Kalli agreed enthusiastically.
"What does your name mean in Greek?"
"Um…something like 'beautiful army' or 'beautiful warrior'."
"So a friendly name?" Sam joked and Kalli laughed. "It suits you," he then said.
Kalli blushed and then stuttered her way through the next question. "What's yours mean?"
"Um… 'Heard by God'," replied Sam.
"And are you? 'Heard by God' I mean."
"The jury's still out on that one," he replied with a chuckle.
"So your dad's dad was a doctor, and dad's mom was an artist?" Dean asked.
"Right. And your dad's dad was a soldier?"
"Uh, he was a deadbeat mostly, but yeah, he was in the service."
"Ah…and mom's dad was a salesman?"
"Yup. And, as you obviously know, our dad is a hunter. How about your dad?"
"I am not really sure what he did exactly, but I suspect he was in the business. Mom said he 'travelled for work'".
"That's totally hunter code for 'He's a hunter!'" Dean joked.
"As if any of us had a chance not involved," Bre said bitterly, as she watched the dice roll around the cup and sipped the last of her drink.
"What unit were you with?" Dean asked and smiled at her surprise.
"32nd Armored. How did you know?"
"You have lots of military tells, but mostly the patches on the duffel. My father was in the marines when he was younger and still has tons of them."
"I guess they become a sort of talisman. Maybe you start to believe they ward off evil."
"And do they?"
"Not really. I know lots of dead men and women whose bags were covered in them."
Dean smiled knowingly and said, "I'd better get more wood."
"You don't already have wood?" she teased.
"We can talk about my wood later," he replied with a wicked grin.
Dean stood up and slipped under the tarp toward the kitchen. Kalli watched him go, then crossed the room and sat beside her sister, taking a sip from her glass.
"Ick," she said.
"It's an acquired taste."
"Speaking of acquired tastes, what are you and Dean over here talking about?"
"Nothing. War stories. How about you and Godzilla?"
"Cut it out - he's nice. Just a bit of family history."
"Keep it shallow, Kal. They don't need to know all our business."
Dean flipped the tarp back open with a huge grin on his face.
"OK, there must have been some awesome teenagers here recently. I found a case of beer – not yet frozen – under the kitchen sink. Sammy, beer?"
"One, sure."
The four of them sat together and drank beer. It was quiet and in the silence, the whipping of the wind and the tapping of frozen flakes against the glass filled the void.
"You mind if I ask why you guys are headed to this unnamed small town?" said Dean once the silence had stretched out uncomfortably long for his taste.
"As long as I can ask you the same," Bre replied.
"What do you know, exactly?" he then asked.
"Damn sight more than you do."
"Cut that the hell out and answer the question," Dean barked, but Sam knew it wasn't sincere anger – Dean was actually having fun!
"Hey – look. It's obvious we are all headed to the same place. Couldn't we…you know work together on this?" Kalli inquired.
"We don't really play well with others," explained Dean.
"He's a bit gun-shy – so to speak - when it comes to working with other people," Sam added, with some regret in his voice.
"I'd better get that wood," Dean said as he lifted the tarp and slipped under it. Bre sat for a moment then followed him out to the kitchen.
"It's about 10 pm, but it's hard to tell since it's been this dark all day," Sam said to Kalli.
"Let's hope it lets up soon. I am not sure how much more of those two I can take," Kalli said ruefully.
"Dean's not so bad when you get to know him."
"No, nor is Bre. Other people make her jumpy."
"Yeah. It makes life hard when you don't know who to trust. It might be nice to have a team for once. A new face now and then wouldn't be so bad."
"Yeah, a team sounds good about now," she agreed.
Sam nodded and met her eyes. They were blue, but not only blue. To Sam it seemed even in the darkened room in only the light of the fire and two small lanterns that they were like a spray of spring violets.
"So how long you two been on the road?" Dean asked, hacking away at the remains of the butcher block counter.
"Off and on for about 18 months, since I got back from Kandahar," Bre said, jumping up onto the counter and then swinging her legs.
"What was your mission?"
"Mostly recon – collecting info and tech."
"Cool. What was your sister doing all that time?"
"Kalli was in school – she had just started medical school."
"Doctor? Nice! Must come in handy when you need to be stitched up."
"It does."
"How's this?" he asked showing her the wood he had managed to hack off from the nearly depleted butcher block counter.
"It'll do for now. Listen, I'm not too keen on this whole team thing, either," she said.
"It seems we might not have much of a choice if those two have their way," Dean replied.
As he tried to pass her to return to the sitting room, Bre swung her legs up, planting her feet on the wall on either side of him, trapping him. "My sister does tend to love strays. I can't tell you how many cats and dogs we had growing up. I was kind of surprised she never became a vet. What kind of strays are you boys? The kind that play nice or the kind that bite?"
Dean turned toward her and placed the wood on the counter beside her. "You got something in particular to say, then say it."
"I am just saying that team or not, I look after my sister first and foremost. I don't put anything above her safety."
"I feel the same about my brother."
They stared into each other's eyes for some time before Bre spoke again. "As long as we understand each other," she finally said.
"Oh, I think we understand each other perfectly," he replied.
He leaned close to her, his lips only inches from hers…then picked up the wood back up and moved toward the tarp.
"You're a tease, Dean Winchester," she called after him.
"No, I ain't," he called back before ducking under the tarp.
"The radio says the snow should stop by dawn and that we could probably be on our way by the early afternoon," Kalli told the two of them as they re-entered the living room.
"Only the boys in the beater need to wait for the plow – I bet my truck could get out a lot sooner."
"Beater?" Dean barked.
"Uh oh," Kalli said.
"I think what you meant to say is cherry classic automobile."
"If you say so," laughed Bre.
"I am willing to bet that the Impala will make it a hell of a lot farther than your cookie-cutter box of shit tomorrow."
"Oh, would ya give it a rest?" Bre responded, still laughing.
Behind the three of them, in the farthest corner of the room, Sam suddenly put his hands to his head. He started to sway and then fell forward onto his knees.
"Sam!" Kalli shouted when she heard the thump behind her.
"Sammy!" Dean yelled and bolted over to him. "What is it, what the hell is wrong with him?"
"I…don't…maybe a concussion, or his carbon monoxide poisoning was worse than I thought."
"Do something," yelled Dean.
Kalli nodded and used her hands to search Sam's head for a wound. She found a large lump on the left side near the back. It had not been at all visible under his mass of hair.
"It's a subdural hematoma. I think I can fix it."
"Then do it, Doc," Dean said, grabbing her by the arm.
"Get your hands off her. She needs room to work," Bre shouted pushing Dean away from Kalli. "Do what you can within reason," she whispered to her younger sister.
"What the hell does that mean? What's within reason?" Dean demanded.
"Back off, Winchester!" Bre cried, drawing a knife from her pants pocket.
Sam's body was growing limp and his breathing was slowing down. Kalli was flustered and turned with a pleading face to her older sister.
"I'm sorry, I can't…I have to help him, Bre."
"Kalli!" Bre warned.
"Help him – do it – what the hell are you waiting for?" cried Dean, ignoring the knife.
Kalli put her hands together and cupped them over the lump on Sam's head. She closed her eyes and her lips moved silently. Bre quickly cut off Dean's view and pushed him out to a full arm's length. Suddenly Kalli fell back and Sam sat upright.
"Sammy – you OK?" Dean cried, falling on his knees beside his brother.
"Uh...what happened?" Sam asked.
"That's what I'd like to know? What the hell did you do to him?" Dean demanded, moving toward Kalli.
"I told you, back off, Winchester," said Bre, her knife raised and pointed at him.
"Bre…Dean…please. I need to see if Sam is OK."
"You aren't going anywhere near him again," Dean barked.
"Geez, you idiot, if she wanted to hurt him she would've just done nothing!"
"Please, Dean. I just want to check him," Kalli pleaded.
"What did you do to him? What – I thought I saw-" Dean started to say.
"- It was a subdural hematoma," Kalli interrupted, "like a blood blister on the brain. It causes pressure to build up, so I applied some light external pressure to it, and it dispersed the blood to be absorbed by his body. It doesn't always work, and I was taking a chance. But thankfully it seems to have worked this time. He is going to be fine," she told him, checking Sam's eyes and head.
"Sammy?" Dean asked.
"I'm fine, Dean. I feel fine. Good even," Sam replied. His head no longer ached and he felt the best he'd felt in weeks, maybe even months.
"Maybe we should all get a little sleep. The snow seems to be lightening up a little and once the highway has been cleared, I guess we'll all be on our way," Kalli said.
"Is it safe for him to sleep?" Dean inquired. His concern for his brother was plain on his face.
"It's absolutely necessary that he sleep," Kalli assured him.
Dean and Sam moved to the sofa nearest the front window, while the girls took the other sofa nearest the kitchen. The boys each slumped down on an end of the sofa with their feet propped up on an old coffee table in front of them and each pulled a blanket up around their throats. Dean was thoughtful. He couldn't get something out of his head - something he'd seen. He would have sworn – if asked under oath – that he'd seen a sort of blue light seep out from under Kalli's hands. But it wasn't possible, was it? He shook his head, checked on Sam beside him and closed his eyes after some time.
Bre and Kalli both lay down, Bre on the floor and Kalli on the sofa facing towards the fire and the boys. Bre watched Dean fall asleep and then whispered to her sister, "That was not smart, Kalli. What if they had seen?"
"But they didn't and everything is fine," Kalli whispered back. Bre eventually fell asleep, her knife close at hand. But Kalli stared across the dark expanse a little longer. For a while, she thought could see Sam's eyes glinting in the firelight. But she soon felt her eyelids grow heavy and she drifted off to sleep feeling safer than she usually did in the presence of others.
When Sam opened his eyes the next morning, the windows were bright – the sun on the snow was blinding even in the darkened room. He rolled over and shivered from the cold.
"Hey, Dean, wake up."
"Hmmm…is it morning already?"
"Yup and - uh oh," Sam said, after sitting up and rubbing his eyes.
"What? What now?" Dean grumbled.
"Um… they're gone."
Dean sat bolt upright and scanned the room. The bags and cooking supplies were gone and the tarp had been removed as well.
The two men dressed and ran out into the backyard to the barn. The Impala was there, but the other vehicle was gone. Deep grooves in the snow showed how it had backed out, gotten stuck, but then apparently had been able to get free and had driven around the side of the house and off towards the highway.
Dean kicked the barn door shut. He was furious because he knew there was no way the Impala could make it out of the barn, let alone to the highway – not until a plow had been through.
"Son of a bitch!" he cried.