McKenna was true to her word on the 'bright and early' part of Dean's orders. She was up at the crack of dawn, duffel packed, fully dressed, and ready to go. With her duffel flung over one shoulder, she made her way down the stairs, hoping that she and the boys would be able to leave without waking Bobby.
But apparently, it was too late for that.
She heard voices in the living room below, sadly proving that she wasn't the first one up. McKenna rounded the corner, entered the living room, and stopped dead in her tracks. For a moment she just stared at Sam and Dean, and sent a questioning glance at Bobby.
"Okay, so who died?" she asked.
"What do you mean?" Sam chuckled, softly.
"You're both wearing suits," McKenna stated. "As far as I'm concerned, the only time a man should be wearing a suit is when he's getting married or going to a funeral. And I can't even begin to imagine you two attending a wedding."
"Well, hey," Dean said, straightening his tie. "Glad to know you have somewhat of a sense of humor."
"She has a little bit of one," Bobby said, smiling. "Kenna, these boys do things a little differently than you do," he began, reaching into their pockets to retrieve both of their wallets. He opened the billfolds and handed them over to McKenna.
She looked down at the badges inside for a moment, her eyes getting bigger with every word she read. Her eyes shot up and met theirs.
"These things are real?" she asked.
Sam and Dean nodded, shamefully.
"And I'm guessing you two stole these?"
Another nod, this one accompanied by a proud little smirk from Dean.
"So you guys go around working cases as fake FBI agents?" McKenna asked as she began to flip through the many pages in their wallets. "And Federal Marshals, and press agents, and…" she paused for moment, her eyes completely bulging as she held open one of the billfolds on the last page. "Clergy?!"
Sam's gaze fell to the floor and stayed there for a long time. Dean's smirk turned to a frown. He looked to Bobby, obviously hoping for some help, but all he received from him was an innocent, you-got-yourself-into-this shrug.
"You guys are sick," McKenna accused, harshly. "What's wrong with you?"
"All right, so we impersonate some people that we probably shouldn't, but we do it for the greater good," Dean shrugged. "How do you get people to talk to you when you're working a case?"
"I listen," McKenna insisted. "That, and I have a smile that would light up a room."
Sam and Dean leaned forward, each of them hoping to catch a glimpse of the smile she was talking about, but McKenna's face remained completely straight.
"She does, boys," Bobby said, sticking up for her. "I've seen it once or twice. It's nice."
"Look, this is how we work," Dean said. "Hell, I'm sure you've had to change your hat a few times when you're working a case."
"But I've never had to pretend I was Dana Scully in order to get people to open to me," McKenna continued, directing her frustration at Dean, alone. "And if you guys are going to work with me, you're doing it in plainclothes. Now, go get changed."
McKenna gave Bobby's shoulder an affectionate squeeze, turned on her heel, and left the room.
Sam looked up at Dean and grinned. "You know, I think I'm starting to like her."
~~~~~*****~~~~~
Sam, Dean, and McKenna headed outside, packed up the Impala and the Shelby, and each traded cell phone numbers. The boys helped McKenna place her weapons in the trunk, both of them incredibly impressed by her arsenal.
Sam held up one of her knives and ran his fingers along the intricate designs carved into the large, wooden handle. "Where'd you get this?"
"Mexico," McKenna said, simply. "Platinum blade. Very old, very rare."
Sam's eyebrows arched up, his expression going into full puppy-dog mode, but McKenna refused to take the bait, and she didn't say one more word about it.
Dean tenderly shut down the trunk and allowed his fingers to lovingly trace over one of the taillights with a heavy sigh.
"You know, if you're not careful, somebody might start to get jealous," Sam teased, cocking his head toward the Impala.
"It's okay, Sammy," Dean, promised. "She understands that I get crushes on other girls sometimes."
"All right, you three," Bobby called from the porch. "Get your asses up here."
The three young hunters quickly made their way up the stairs and joined Bobby. McKenna sat on a nearby planter, respectfully bringing herself down to his level.
"Now you all know that I hate rules, but I have a few that I'd really like you to follow," he began, his eyes darting back and forth to meet each theirs. "Look out for each other. Even more than you usually do. The three of you…" Bobby's voice faltered for a moment, but he forced himself to keep going. "The three of you are all I've got left, so stay safe."
They all nodded, each of them understanding in their own specific way, just how much they meant to Bobby. McKenna stood to her feet, and gently wrapped her arms around the older man's neck. She kissed his cheek, promised to be careful, and climbed into her car.
"Boys," Bobby beckoned, softly as soon as McKenna was out of earshot. "I've got some special rules just for you two, too: Keep an eye on her. She's good at what she does, but she gets reckless, sometimes. And don't crowd her. She's an arms-length kind of person, so if she starts to get squirrelly, just back off." Bobby stopped for a moment, and pointed a strong, steady finger right at Dean's face. "And no flirting, Romeo. You leave her alone, understand?"
Sam suppressed the desire to chuckle. Dean stared at the finger in his face, and simply nodded.
"She has nightmares sometimes," Bobby continued. "Bad ones. She might start screaming, but don't go running to her. Just let her be, and don't ask any questions in the morning. Got it?"
Sam and Dean just stared at Bobby for a long moment, both of them shocked at how well he knew her, but even more so at how, before yesterday, had never said one word about her very existence.
"And remember, she's helping you two out, so listen to her, and do what she says," Bobby concluded. "There, my lecture's done. Now get out of here, and I'll see you in a few days."
The boys nodded their consent, and headed down to the car. Sam climbed into the passenger seat, and waited patiently while his brother stopped at the Shelby.
"It's about a seven hour drive, so it'll probably take all day," Dean informed McKenna as he leaned his weight against the car. "There's an eight year old girl who's been stuck in a pediatric mental ward for the past three weeks. Everybody thinks she's just crazy, but according to our research, she recently started speaking Latin and listing off the names of a bunch of demons."
McKenna nodded along with his words as she leaned across the passenger seat to pull a pen, and a pad of paper from the glove box. As Dean continued, she began to take down some notes.
"So needless to say, we think it's a demonic possession. Which brings us to why you're here," Dean said, thoughtfully. "We're used to demons possessing adults. I don't think Sam and I have ever dealt with this happening to a kid before."
"I have," McKenna offered. "Believe me, it's not fun. A demon-possessed child is a whole different arena. It takes a much different approach."
"Well, I hope we're up to the challenge," Dean smiled, tapped the roof of McKenna's car, and climbed into the Impala.
~~~~~*****~~~~~
An hour down the road, and Dean still couldn't stop himself from glancing back in the rear view mirror every few seconds. "I swear, I could watch that sweet girl following me in my mirror all day."
"Which one?" Sam chuckled. "The car or McKenna?"
Dean shot a glare at his brother. "The car."
"What, then? You don't think McKenna's a sweet girl?"
"I guess she can be," Dean offered. "In her own…weird little way."
"She definitely has her secrets, doesn't she?" Sam questioned as he thumbed his way through the file of papers on his lap. "And they must be pretty big, considering Bobby never said one word about her until yesterday."
"He said she has nightmares, Sammy," Dean said, softly. "That she wakes up screaming. What do think she dreams about?"
"I don't know, Dean. Why?"
"Well, you know what I dream about when I wake up screaming…"
"Yeah," Sam answered, wondering how the moment became so serious. "So?"
"So, I'm just thinking," Dean went on. "The only thing that makes me wake up screaming is when I dream about Hell."
Sam let the papers fall through his fingers and land back in lap. He glanced up at Dean for a moment, waiting for his brother to continue. When he did, Sam was stunned.
"I'm just wondering what kind of Hell she dreams about."
