Chapter 4

"No."

One word. All it took was one word for Dean to lose his cool.

He didn't yell or shout or storm around. No, Dean Winchester got very quiet and very cold. "All right." The words were a statement, she just didn't know what they meant. At least not until he tossed the icepack onto the front seat next Sam and reached into the back seat for her.

She tried to fight him off. Tried kicking and screaming at him. She would have hit him a good one again, but he was already beyond angry. Wouldn't do her much good to make things worse, would it? With single-minded determination he managed to get an arm under her knees and another behind her back. Once that was accomplished he physically lifted her right out of the car.

Now Cal felt full force what ego had earlier forced her to deny. During her two rounds with the big smelly cowboy at the bar earlier she had opened up the gash on her belly again. She'd managed to cover it up with a bit of gauze and tape at the motel when they'd stopped off to collect their gear. Luckily the blouse hid that particular spot long enough for her to move her stuff into the car without being found out. Now though, with the force of fighting off her very angry protector, the gauze fell off. Blood started oozing out and quickly soaked right through her blouse. Thank god it was black or else he would have seen it already. If he didn't put her down soon it would start to soak right into his t-shirt too though, and would show up all too well on the crisp white. Dude was already angry… She didn't want to know what his reaction would be to finding out she'd been hiding something from them.

The cut had been deeper than she had let the Winchester boys believe. When the spirit had knocked her off her feet and tossed the knife she'd been holding at her it had been a struggle just to get out of the way. She'd rolled but had still been caught by the blade. One look at it and she knew she'd need stitches. She was perfectly capable of performing first aid… just not on herself. Blood, guts and gore were fun stuff until she saw her own. Then it reminded her that she really was a girl. A human one at that. There was no way around it: one of the boys would have to do the stitching for her.

One look at Dean and she knew she couldn't let him do it. He was one of her very few weaknesses and she could only handle one of those at a time. He had that worried-hero, protector-of-the-innocent look to him and she knew she would crack under it if she wasn't careful. That wouldn't do of course. He'd never let her live it down. She'd forever be 'the girl' in his eyes after that.

So when he went from macho to gentle in less than fifteen seconds she'd had no other choice. Kneeing him in the nuts and accusing him of hitting on her had been her only option… at least the only one she could think of on such short notice. What? She'd been careful not to hit him too hard. After all, she may have use of him later, when things settled down and her business had been taken care of.

It had been hard, keeping them distracted long enough to cover it up. Now though, she wasn't sure she'd be able to hide it anymore. It was bleeding a whole lot more than it had the night before. Luckily his anger worked to her advantage. He noticed nothing beyond the accomplishment of his goal: getting her out of his car.

"Pop the trunk Sammy!" he grunted as he set Cal down on her feet. Knowing better than to argue with him when he got that way, Sam did as his brother asked. Dean was pulling open the lid of the trunk even as the click sounded when it unlocked. He hauled out her backpack and her duffel bag and tossed them on the ground at her feet. "So that's it then? You're going to leave me on the side of the road, just like that?" Maybe it was shock from the severity of her injury but she was feeling just a wee bit breakable at the moment. Maybe even a little needy. Not that she'd ever admit it.

"Yup, that's right." He didn't even look at her, just climbed right back into the passenger seat and lay back with the ice pack on his face again. "Fine. I'll call myself a cab and go pick up my 'Stang. Who the hell needs you anyway? I should have known better last night that to ask you for help." Sam wanted to tell her he was sorry. He wanted to tell her to call him if she needed anything. Dean made it impossible though. He'd popped Metallica back into the tape deck. "Let's go Sam, I'm through wasting time."

Sam did the only thing he could do: put the car in drive and watched in the rear view mirror as Cal's reflection got smaller and smaller.

She waited until they were out of sight to sit down, preferring to glare mercilessly at the car as her nemesis drove away. When she did sit though it hit her how desperate her situation had become. There was a vampire out there somewhere. A very persistent vampire who had caught her scent and had plans for her that she did not agree with.

There had been safety in numbers with Sam and Dean. There had been safety even just riding in an unrecognizable car. Now though, she was sitting with her bags on the shoulder of the interstate and loosing blood fast. She was a sitting duck. If Earl was anywhere within a hundred miles he'd be able to pick up her scent. Cal had to get moving, and fast.

Of course that would mean getting up, hauling her bags over her shoulder and walking to the nearest roadside pit-stop to call a cab. Right now she could barely keep her eyes open. There was something warm and wet working its way down the leg of her jeans… funny, it wasn't raining… Her battle with consciousness lost she slumped over and slid down the rest of the way from her bags to the ground.

Dean spotted the motel about twenty minutes drive after leaving Cal on the side of the road. "Dude, pull over. I just found us some beds."

They had just barely checked in and the arguing had already begun.

"I can't believe you man. That girl is in serious trouble and you just left her there on the side of the highway." "Yeah and good riddance too. One more run-in with that chick and I'd have wound up in the hospital again." "You're unbelievable Dean. Did you even bother to think about what's going to happen when the vampire catches up with her again? I mean, she'll be lucky if she even makes it to a hospital." Sam was worried, Dean could tell. He knew that just leaving her there had been a rotten thing to do… he was just so damned tired and sore. Cal just kept pushing at him. Kicking him when he was down. He hadn't known what else to do. She needed to learn to give a guy some down time to recover from the shock of her.

Besides, knowing that girl he'd only have a couple of hours rest before she'd be knocking down the motel door, ready to do him bodily harm again.

He was rubbing distractedly at the wet spot the ice pack had left on his shirt, trying to think of a way to put what he was thinking into words. He needed Sammy to understand why he'd done it.

"Dean?" Sam stood frozen in his tracks, staring at Dean's hand. "Hmm?" he asked still distracted and trying to gather his thoughts. "Dude, what's that on your shirt? Is that….?" Dean looked down at the wet spot which, now that he thought about it was a little sticky for moisture from the icepack. His finger tips were sticky and there was a wide patch of red spreading across the bottom half of his t-shirt where he'd been holding Cal as he lifted her out of the car. His eyes met Sam's with a look of total shock.

"My god, it's blood isn't it?" Trust his brother to state the obvious. "Give me the keys Sam. This time I'm driving." And drive he did like he never had before.

Twenty minutes drive, accomplished in ten flat. Dean pulled the Impala to a stop with a squeal of tires and screech of brakes as close to Cal's unconscious body as he could get it. How long had she been bleeding? Why hadn't she said anything? Damn it, the woman was going to end up getting herself killed. If she hadn't managed it already.