4 - The Nurse Who Loved Me

It seemed like the pathetic dance floor doubled in size the moment Sam had to push through it.

In his mind, he could easily picture Dean already dead face first on the table, in a puddle of blood and sick, so it was both anti-climactic and a relief to find he was still sitting with the blue haired barista, finishing off his needlessly strong cocktail.

Dean threw him one of his mischievous smiles, telling Sam he was in for something. "Sammy, glad you're here. This is Matt."

The blue haired barista gave him a smile and raised his hand, and Sam raised his hand awkwardly in return. "Dean, the guy from Poughkeepsie's at the bar."

At the use of their bug out word, all humor fled from Dean's expression, and he was back to business. It was always distressing to see Dean flip his moods on and off like a switch, but he'd honed the ability when they were kids, and Sam knew, with the gift of hindsight, that was part of Dean's survival mechanism. Be who people wanted to see, and they never questioned you. "Sorry Matt, gotta take care of this. See you later."

As soon as he was away from the table, Dean whispered, "Where's Eileen?"

"She's following the two that were at your table. The woman was a witch. You didn't take any of the pills, did you?"

"Are you crazy? No. I palmed them. I thought we might want to figure out what the fuck's in them first."

"Good thinking." It was. And he was glad Dean hadn't completely lost his head and indulged. Sam mentally chided himself for thinking Dean would do the dumb thing. He was a hunter first; he kept his head in the game.

As soon as they were outside, Sam's phone hummed, and he pulled it out to see Eileen had texted him her location. Good. They weren't that far behind.

"Matt wanted me to introduce you two," Dean said. "He's apparently totally into shy guys."

Sam sighed. "Dean ..."

"What? I never said you were interested. Just that I'd introduce you two."

"Do not pull me into this."

"Into what?" The smile he could hear in Dean's voice made Sam itchy to punch him. But he couldn't, not right now.

"This. Whatever this is. I'm not like you."

"No shit, Sherlock."

Sam gave him major bitchy side eye, but Dean was being cheerfully and deliberately oblivious. "I mean I'm not a con artist."

"Fuck you, you're a Winchester. Of course you are. Besides, that's not being a con artist. Who's being hurt? We shoot the shit, have a few drinks. No harm, no foul, no expectations. You need to loosen up, Sammy."

Sam stopped him, and said, "What have I told you about calling me Sammy?" Looking into Dean's happy face, Sam suddenly realized his eyes were a little off, and he was inordinately cheerful. "Oh shit. What did you take?"

"Nothing. I told you I didn't take them." Dean reached into his coat pocket, and dropped two purple gel caps into Sam's palm. Sam put them in his pocket, glad to have them away from Dean.

"One drink doesn't make you this happy. What are you on?"

Dean dipped his head side to side briefly, as if physically volleying the possibilities of truth or lying in his brain. "So, Tuck had a Vicodin in the pill bottle -"

"Oh my god. You took it with alcohol?"

"It's only one. And my knee feels great. It's gonna rain, you know? My knee always hurts before it rains. Not tonight, though."

Sam's phone hummed with another address update, and he let out a sigh and an eye roll as he continued down the street. "I can't take you anywhere."

"You always say that, and yet, you're always wrong."

Sam continued shaking his head. Truth be told, Dean was an expert at knowing his tolerances. He knew what he could handle and what he couldn't, born from years of experience. And Sam knew what he meant by his knee hurting before it rained. With Sam, it was his shoulder, and it had been throbbing a bit. Again, having taken the sheer amount of beatings they had in their lives, they were both lucky their skeletons weren't held together with metal pins and duct tape. If they hadn't know angels willing to heal them, they'd probably be constantly limping, with stiff joints that occasionally refused to work for them, and they'd never know a moment without pain. It was hard to believe that they could be considered lucky in any respect, with their cursed lives, and the sheer amount of dead loved ones in their wake, but it was true. Things seemed bad. It could have been so much worse, as hard as that was to fathom.

Which made Sam wonder about Castiel. Dean wasn't the only one worried about him, although Dean showed it more. They hadn't seen him since that disastrous visit to Lucifer's cage, and Dean thought he sounded funny on his last message. Sam agreed he was a little off, but there could have been dozens of reasons for that. Still, having him out of touch for so long with the Darkness threatening was a bit weird. But maybe he was on the trail of something that could save them.

Sam really wasn't going to say anything, he told himself not to open that door, but he couldn't help it. "So what did you do with Crowley in Portland?"

"Touristy shit. We got shitfaced a lot. Karaoke. Orgy. I think we went to a beach, but that might have been Northern California."

Sam held out a hand, stopping Dean. "Orgy?"

Dean shrugged. "I was a demon, dude. I did a lot of shit."

Sam had to take a minute to collect himself. Oh god. Why did he open this door? He knew a happy, pain pilled Dean was a more open than usual Dean, but he never wanted to know that Dean and Crowley had participated in an orgy together. He was going to need bleach to scrub this from his brain. Why did he do this? Why did he ask questions he knew he never wanted the answer to?

"Don't be so hung up, man. You had to have done some shit while you were possessed."

"Yes, but I didn't have an orgy with the King of Hell. Oh Christ. I can't even believe I just said that."

Dean patted him on the back. "And here I thought I was sparing you by not mentioning the stripping."

Sam felt himself go cold. Oh no. He was going to have to roofie himself. He didn't want to remember any of this. "What the hell are you -"

Thankfully, Sam never finished that dangerous question, because, off in the near distance, there was a noise like a cat crash, and the sound of a cat alarm blaring into the night. They were only a couple blocks behind Eileen, and that's exactly where the sound seemed like it was coming from. Sam instantly shoved aside his own horror at Dean's debauchery, as fear kicked in, and Sam started running. Dean followed quickly after.

Sam could hear a woman shouting, although he was sure it wasn't Eileen, and then there was this noise, kind of like a crack of lightning, but heavily muted, and a flash of light so bright it was like the sun briefly returned. And then it was over as quickly as it began, leaving behind nothing but the wailing of a cat alarm.

Sam imagined he should have expected it, but Dean somehow got ahead of him and went around the corner first, gun out in spite of the setting. He wasn't so stoned that his instincts didn't come through.

The way Dean said, "Eileen," was a relief. If she'd been harmed or not there, Dean's voice would have reflected it. Sam didn't pull any weapon, because they were too late.

"Okay, you guys missed the craziest shit," she said, and held out her phone. They both watched the replay, and she was correct. If Sam hadn't seen that flash of light, he may have thought this was something she cooked up on a computer.

"What the fuck ..?" Dean exclaimed, speaking for them all.

"I know, right?" Eileen said. "You guys seen anything like this before?"

Dean shook his head. "Pepper Potts is pissed."

It took Sam a moment to remember Gwyneth Paltrow played Pepper in the Iron Man movies. Sam wanted to know where Dean found the time to watch all these films, but then again, he found time for an orgy, so time organization skills were clearly a surprising thing he was good at. "It's a witch fight. We know from experience you really don't want to be in the middle of that."

"Do you think the demon's involved?" Eileen asked, putting away her phone.

"Oh wow. They'd have to be super stupid to get a demon up in their biz," Dean said. "So maybe."

The cat alarm continued to go off, and after that light show, it was hard to imagine some authorities hadn't been called, whether this was an iffy part of town or not. "Maybe we should discuss this back at the motel."

"And maybe we can ask," Dean said, wandering up the street. Sam had no idea what he was up to until he went to the ruined cat. Right, the pedestrian who hit the auto. Sam joined him, although he figured the guy had to be dead. That was a hell of a hit.

Which is why Sam was genuinely surprised when Dean said, "Cmon, Austin. You don't have to go home, but you can't stay here." The guy groaned as Dean peeled him away from the cat, and Sam helped. Of course Dean knew who he was, Matt introduced them.

Sam had no idea if he was a witch, but he'd survived being thrown down the street, and crushing a Honda like an empty tin can. He wasn't a normal human, unless he was currently dying from internal injuries. In which case, Dean really shouldn't have been moving him.

Oh well. Too late now. They'd have to see if he survived the trip to the motel, and move on from there.

Dean knew, in retrospect, he'd probably admitted too much to Sam. It wasn't that he was proud of any of it, it was just he felt so good. He probably shouldn't have mixed that Vicodin with a heavy cocktail, but hey, it got rid of shame as well as pain. That was the best kind of twofer.

Austin seemed to be recovering the whole way back, confirming he wasn't just an innocent bystander. He, Sam, and Eileen discussed options of what they could do. Eventually, they came to a consensus. They'd treat Austin like everything was normal and cool, and how he reacted would dictate how the rest of it went. Before they put him on the bed in Dean's room, they drew a witch trap on the floor, and put the bed over it. If Austin decided to go all witchy, he'd have nowhere to go.

Austin woke with a gasp, like he was having a bad dream, and not miraculously healing from a near fatal ass kicking. "Dude," Dean said, playing up his intoxication level. Austin would probably put his guard down if he thought he was completely wasted. "What happened?"

Austin sat up and looked around warily. He was all of twenty three looking, skinny and very much tending towards beanpole in his build, with short black hair, save for this little floppy bit that fell over his forehead on the right side. Dean assumed it was trendy, but had no idea, as he didn't care about that kind of thing. But it was such a stupid haircut, it had to have some greater purpose. "Who are these people?" he asked, using his head to gesture to Sam, who was standing in the far corner of the room, and Eileen, who was standing near the door. Dean was sitting close to the bed but out of grabbing range.

"This is Eileen, and that's Sam. Were you hit by a cat or something?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, and looked deeply confused. "Was Tansy anywhere around?"

Tansy was the dubious name of his female companion, a more curvaceous woman with lilac hair, and heavily kohled eyes. Dean kind of dug her, at least until he found out she was a witch. "No. Did she leave you there?"

"She wouldn't. Unless ..." Suddenly, a darkness seemed to come over Austin's eyes, and he glared at him. "Your name is Dean."

"Yeah?"

"And his name is Sam? Holy fucking shit." He held out his hand, and said something Latinish. And of course, nothing happened. He tried it again, to the same result.

"Cool. So we have a rep among witches?" Dean suspected as much, but confirmation was nice.

Austin's rage was so palpable it nearly made his eyes glow. "What did you do to me?"

"You really think we don't know how to handle witches by now?" Sam asked.

"Is this a good time to mention the witch killing bullets?" Dean wondered. Sam shrugged.

Austin looked both horrified and pissed off, which was ideal. "What the fucking fuck do you idiots want from me?"

"Okay, first up, there's no need for name calling," Dean said. "And two, what's in those pills you're peddling?"

Austin scoffed and rolled his eyes. He was one of those people with eyes so dark they almost looked black, which was kind of neat when it wasn't demonic. And he'd matched his nail polish to it, which was an interesting move, but it worked. What Dean didn't get was the piercing on his cheek. It was just a stud, but, ouch, and how easy would it be to rip out in a fight, and tear your whole cheek open? Just thinking about it made him wince. Still, Austin was a witch, and probably didn't go in for physical hand to hand. "Oh god, those are nothing. It was an attempt to make a little cash with a side hustle, you know? Some herbs shoved in a pill casing. There's nothing in them, except some dried spices you'd find in a store, that were downwind of a happy spell. It does fuck nothing except maybe make you feel mildly happy for twenty minutes, but people have been buying them up like they're the next kratom or something. It's fucking bananas. What's wrong with people?"

"Prove it," Dean said. He seemed sincere, but he didn't trust him.

Austin sighed. "Give me one of the pills you got."

Dean looked at Sam with a nod, and Sam tossed Austin one of the pills. He caught it, and then looked at them expectantly. "I'll need some water. I can't dry swallow like an addict."

Dean, who could dry swallow if he had to, took a bit of offense at that. But he still dug a flask out of his jacket and tossed it to him. He didn't know if it was his booze flask or the holy water one, and didn't much care either way.

Austin swallowed the pill with a swig from the flask, which made him grimace and gasp. "What the fuck is this, lighter fluid?"

Ah, that was his booze flask. "I'll have you know that's the finest whiskey the dollar store has," Dean said.

Austin only scowled at his joke. "How can you drink this stuff and still be living?"

"We have friends in all the wrong places." That wasn't even a joke, as far as Dean was concerned.

Austin took a final swig for the road, and then screwed the cap back and tossed it to Dean. "See? Harmless. And yet, it sells well enough that it's no longer our side hustle. It's a full time biz. We make more than we ever did as wage slaves. It makes no sense at all. These pills should be like eating a handful of oregano."

"It's probably the placebo effect," Sam said.

"Maybe. Can I go now?"

"Not yet. What the hell was this?" Eileen asked, stepping forward and playing the video on her phone.

Austin looked at it with obvious confusion, but soon he gasped, and he paled so much Dean thought he might genuinely faint. When it was over, he looked at all of them desperately. "You hafta save her. You think you're heroes, right? Prove it."

"Save who from what?" Dean wondered.

"Tansy from her mother."

Now Dean, Sam, and Eileen all shared the same surprised, disbelieving look. "That was her mother?" Eileen asked first.

That was the thing about really powerful witches. They were essentially ageless, as long as their powers kept chugging along. Look at Rowena - she was a few hundred years old, and yet, looked younger than Crowley.

Austin nodded. "She's this real Queen bitch. Tansy ran away to escape her. She wants her for something."

"What do you mean she wants her for something?" Dean asked.

"Tansy wouldn't tell me. She just said her mother planned to do something terrible to her, which is why she ran away from Haven Hills, even though her Mom essentially runs that place. I don't know why she wouldn't tell me exactly, but I figured 'cause it really freaked her the fuck out, and she's one of those kinds of people who thinks saying something out loud is as good as making it true, so ..."

Sam raised a hand, as if to ward off the torrent of words. "Hold up. Haven Hills?"

Austin rolled his eyes again, like this was the least important bit of the story. "Some nowhere suburban cul-de-sac outside Eugene. They're run by a coven, but they don't know that."

Okay. Dean mentally added that target to his to-do list. "Does what her mother is up to have anything to do with a decay demon?"

The kid's look was genuinely perplexed. "A what now?"

"It's hard to believe it's not connected," Eileen said.

Dean nodded. "It's gotta be."

"Hey, what the hell are you people talking about?" Austin asked. "What the fucking fuck is a decay demon?"

Sam decided to go for it, and why not? They had little to lose at this point. "Have you seen any big pools of mysterious black goop anywhere?"

Austin looked between all of them like they'd all grown third eyeballs in the center of their foreheads. "Are you on drugs? I mean, real drugs. Or are you having a stroke or something? 'Cause that's next level ..." he trailed off, staring at a nowhere point between the bed and the carpet. "Wait. There was that stuff outside Noah's place. Looked like someone melted a tire." He looked up. "Are you saying that's a sign of the decay demon?"

Dean kind of hated to break the news to him. As witches went, they'd met more obnoxious by a damn sight. "Yeah. That's all that remains of a person who's come in contact with the decay demon."

Austin's eyebrows hitched up until they were almost touching his hairline. "That's what happened to Noah?"

Dean shrugged. "If he's missing, it's a good bet."

"Holy fuck." He put a hand to his mouth in shock, and if it was an act, he was a hell of an accomplished actor. "You have to stop it. Why aren't you stopping it?"

Sam frowned. "We're trying, but we don't know where it is."

"Locator spell," he snapped, like they were complete idiots.

"Doesn't work on most demons, especially high powered ones," Sam said.

"It does when I do them," Austin said. "Agree to help Tansy, and I'll help you."

Dean, Sam, and Eileen all shared a look again. This night had certainly taken some odd turns, hadn't it?