Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me.

Chapter 9: Plain White Walls

To Skye's surprise, her two brothers exited the motel together. Between them, they had packed up all of the bags and were carrying them to the Impala. Dean looked angry and saddened, and Sam had a subtle ring of red around his eyes. His face was blank of emotion now, but it was easy to tell his emotions had been raging just before. Skye rolled down her window. and looked directly at Dean so there would be no mistake about to whom she was speaking.

"What's going on?" she asked him with a raised eyebrow. She knew that he understood her real question: 'Why is Sam coming out here, and what happened that has you two looking so upset?' Well, hopefully, he understood that was what she was thinking.

Dean walked up to her open window and leaned over so that his forearms rested on the sill. "Travis called Sam up. He's got a case."

Skye paused a moment before asking, "I take it you're gonna go check it out with him?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah." His eyes flashed to the open trunk where Sam was storing their stuff, probably wondering if Sam could hear them. It was almost certain that he could. "We'll figure out everything else after that."

"Not me. I need some space from all of this," Skye told him.

"You're leaving? Now?" Dean sounded disbelieving.

"Yeah, I can't do this, Dean, and it's not like I would be much help on a hunt anyway." She shrugged as if it was no big deal, but her brother saw right through her.

"Uh-huh. You do realize that you are doing exactly what Sam always does? Him running away is what caused all this mess, and now you are going to do the same thing?" he accused.

"He didn't cause this. I did," she said in a hard voice. "And I wasn't asking your permission. I just need you to drop me off at that diner down the road. I'll wait for my ride there." Her tone booked no-nonsense, but Dean was the master of ignoring warnings.

"Damn it, Skye. Stop it with this blaming yourself shit. You don't get to leave me."

She raised her eyebrows indignantly, "I don't get to?" She pursed her lips together tightly. "Nnnn-mmm.I'm not doing this right now. You're gonna drop me off at the dinner, go do that case, and call me every day to let me know that the two of you are still alive. That's final."

Dean took in a deep shuddering breath to argue, but she locked eyes with him in a challenge, and her brother's jaw snapped shut audibly. "Fine. Do what you want." He picked up the bags from the ground and disappeared behind the car. She rolled up her window, not wanting to hear what, if anything, Dean and Sam were about to say. The trunk shut loudly, making the car bounce slightly.

Sam walked by the window toward the front. His posture was closed off, and he got in the car without saying a word. Dean followed a second later, and they began the drive in silence.

The three of them had fights before. It would be impossible for them not to, considering how close of quarters they shared. They respected each other's personal space and generally backed off when one was getting fed up. Still, fights happened about hunts, chores, and all the other mundane things in life. Those types usually blew over quickly and were often attributed to stress, hunger or lack of sleep.

The more serious fights happened on such occasions that one of them dared to utter the three-lettered curse of "why?" Why can't I tell this girl what we do? Why can't I get a job, and go to college? Why can't you go a day without drinking? Why didn't you talk to me? Why don't you want to look into that case? Why are you always so bossy? In short, this fight was shaping up to be one of their worst. Skye couldn't yet decide if things would have turned out better with their father there or not. He would be furious, but he would have shut the situation down in seconds and killed Ruby on sight. If nothing else could be said about John Winchester, he was a man able to take control of control situations. Then again, none of this would have happened in the first place if John was here. That was his choice, in the end.

Skye examined Sam in the rear-view mirror. He was pensively staring out the passenger side window. She wondered what he and Dean had spoken about, but didn't dare ask. It would most likely just make things worse. Still, she couldn't help but feel that Dean was able to get through to him in a way that she didn't. They had decided to take on a case, and if it had just been left up to Skye, Sam would have never gotten back in the car.

Her eyes traveled to her other brother. Dean was obviously suppressing his aggression. His hands were tight on the wheel and his eyes never flickered from the road. Metallica was blaring at a very high volume, signaling that, if they wanted to talk or not, he was not in the mood for any more conversation this morning.

She was felt guilty for a moment because Dean had been there for her unwaveringly. Unlike Sam, he had never abandoned the family, and she knew that he was feeling betrayed right now. In itself, that was nearly enough to change her mind from leaving, but she just… she needed time to clear her head, and being there, around the problem, was just seeming to make the situation worse at every turn. She'd give it a week. One week of being selfish and taking the time to examine her thoughts and feelings before she went back to them. That shouldn't be too difficult for Dean to understand, but emotions are often irrational. All three of them had abandonment issues.

All too soon, the car pulled up to the diner. There weren't many cars parked in the lot; It was probably just the daily regulars in there right now, drinking their morning coffee and reading the paper. That was a good thing. Skye did not feel like being surrounded by people yet.

Dean parked the car and jumped out as soon he cut the engine. Skye sighed. She should at least try to make some sort of peace before they drove off. She looked at Sam still sitting in the front seat and cleared her throat. "Listen, Sam." He twisted to look wearily at her. "I don't think what you did was right, but I know why you did it. Just, call me if you need me, okay? I expect daily updates."

Sam gave her a half smile. It didn't make his dimples show, but he was at least making an effort to be civil, so who was she to complain? "Okay, Skye. Don't get up to too much trouble without us," he attempted to tease her.

"Pshaw! Me? Trouble? Never!" he smiled a little bigger at her attempt to joke, but it still didn't reach his eyes.

"Yeah, okay," he said skeptically.

The back door opened suddenly to reveal Dean and Skye was saved from the trouble of trying to answer. "Got your bags. Let's go," Dean said.

Skye nodded and clumsily pulled her crutches and herself out of the car. Dean slammed the door behind her and walked a stride ahead. He was reaching for the glass door to the diner when she stopped him. "Hey, Dean, wait," she called. He looked back impatiently. "You know I'm not leaving you, right?" Her brother just pursed his lips. "I'm not. I just need like a week to clear my head. I'll be back before you have time to miss me." She offered him a smile, which he refused to receive.

"Who's picking you up anyway? Somehow I get the feeling that it's not Bobby, or he'd be callin' to talk sense into all of us," Dean changed the subject as if she had not just been trying to make peace.

"Liam," she said nonchalantly.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "The Texan who helped us clear out that vamp's nest a couple years ago?"

"Yup," she popped the 'p'. "He was in the area and I didn't want to inconvenience Bobby again," she admitted.

"You two have a thing?" he asked point blank.

"No!" her face reddened and Dean gave her a skeptical look, obviously not believing her. "I mean… he's nice and all, but he's a hunter. That wouldn't work out too well,"

"Mmmhmm," Dean hummed and went to open the door again. Skye followed, annoyed by the loud clicking of the crutches. The diner had only a handful of patrons. A sign by the front door read: PLEASE SEAT YOURSELVES. Dean led her to a booth in front of a picture window. It looked out to the parking lot, allowing her to observe all of the comings and goings of the establishment. She frowned when she looked out and Sam was talking seriously on his phone. She kept her eyes on him when she lowered herself into the booth. So it was surprising when she looked over and Dean was sitting across from her, studying a menu.

"Staying to eat?" she asked.

"Just getting some take out for the road." He didn't look up at her when he spoke. "Don't worry. You won't have to put up with me much longer."

Skye rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Dean. Act like a child if you want."

He glanced up at her, and then back down to the menu as if to say 'thank you, I will.'

"You know," she started slowly. "There's something I've been thinking about…"

He set his menu down. "Alright, you have my attention."

"Well…" She glanced at the window to where Sam had been. He was off the phone and leaning against the Impala in boredom. "I want you to have the Impala," she finished quickly.

"Come again?"

"I said, I want you to have the Impala," Skye enunciated each word separately. His eyes widened a fraction in disbelief. "I've been thinking about it for a while, and you love that car, Dean. I mean, I love her too," she quickly added. "But, it- I just think it'd mean more if you had her. Dad only gave it to me because I was oldest anyway." she shrugged.

"You're serious?" he asked deeply.

"As Sam's hair care regimen," she joked. It fell flat on Dean.

"You want to give me Baby?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes, Dean. Are you in shock?" Skye asked at his wide-eyed look of disbelief. His face had paled slightly and mouth parted unconsciously.

"Hello there! How's everyone doing?" The waitress walked up to their table and announced her presence. Dean snapped his jaw closed but was otherwise still staring at Skye.

"We're fine, thanks," Skye smiled at the brunette.

"Can I get you something to drink?" The waitress, whose name tag read Tammy, asked.

"Yeah. We actually have an order ready to go," Skye said.

"Alright, what'll that be?"

"Two eggs, over easy, rye toast and hash browns with a coffee for here. To go will be two black coffees, a bacon egg, and cheese slammer, and an egg white omelet, white and wheat toast," Skye ordered for her brothers. "Oh, and a slice of apple pie," she added.

"Can I get you anything else?" Tammy asked. Skye shook her head. "Alright, I'll be right back with the coffee." Tammy spared Dean a confused look before turning on her heel and disappearing from sight. As she walked away, Dean finally seemed to shake off his shock, literally.

"I can't take Baby from you, Skye," he said sadly.

"You can and will. It's not like it makes much of a difference anyway. We're always together." Skye winked at him, still trying to lighten the mood. Dean frowned, contemplating her for a few minutes. The waitress had come back and dropped the coffee off before he finally spoke.

"You're sure about this?" he asked seriously.

"Dean, I've never been more sure about anything in my life. The fact that you convinced dad to buy her in the first place just shows how much she really means to you." Skye took a sip of her coffee. It was hot and just what she needed.

Finally convinced, Dean's face broke into a huge open-mouthed grin. "You're the best, you know that?" he asked.

Skye tilted her head in a mock bow. Her cheeks were split by the dimples. "I think I might've heard that somewhere." Dean was now in a glowing mood, Skye didn't want to ruin it, but she also didn't want Dean to leave before she could explain herself to him. "So," she started. "I don't know what kind of conversation you and Sam had, but ours didn't go too well," she admitted.

Her brother sobered up. "Oh?"

"It's why I have to take a little time to myself, Dean," she said in earnest. "Sam begged me for a chance to explain himself, and do you know what he said when he did?"

"Something bitchy no doubt," guessed Dean.

"He started by trying to defend Ruby, and ended by saying that I drove him off after your death," Skye said, not willing to look up. She was playing with the rim of her coffee cup.

"You know, all that proves is that he's driving you off, right?" Dean asked with a raised brow. Skye thought about that for a second. It was true that she was leaving because she didn't know how to deal with Sam right now, but she was also doing it for her. It was too difficult to have perspective on a situation when you were so close to it. Every time she saw Sam she would be remembering what he had said about looking at him with Dean's eyes. For some reason that had hurt her more than anything else, he could have said. If he had yelled and raged and called her a bossy bitch it would have been easier. At least then, she would have known that it was a reaction borne of anger, but the calm certainty with which he had spoken convinced her that he was being honest for perhaps the first time since they had been reunited. She had driven Sam off just by being herself.

Perhaps if she talked to Liam, obviously not telling him all of the sordid details, she would be able to understand how to continue with the situation. She would never stop loving and protecting Sam, but they couldn't do their type of work if there was no trust. Sam hadn't even apologized, which was a warning sign in itself.

"Maybe he is driving me off, but I don't stay away for long. If I haven't found the perspective I need in a week, I'm coming back anyway. I can't imagine the trouble the two of you would get into without me around. Plus, I need to make sure that you are taking care of Baby," she teased. There was no doubt that Dean would take care of the car. He had already been doing it, beside her, for nearly their whole lives.

In pure Dean form, he ignored her attempt to lighten the mood. The atmosphere was only allowed to change when he wanted it to. He was a bit of a control freak at times. Not that she blamed him. She could be a bit domineering as well. Thinking that every decision you made put not only your life on the line, but the life of the ones that you love was a very stressful way to live and strengthened their A-type personalities. "I'm serious, Skye. Whatever's going on with him, this isn't gonna to help."

"I don't know if me rubbing salt in the wound is going to help either. He's a big boy. I can't be responsible for all of his decisions."

"And I can?" questioned Dean. He was starting to sound confrontational again.

She raised her hands up in the air, as if in surrender. "I didn't say that! If you wanted to come with me and leave Sam to handle his own shit, I would completely understand. It's not like it would be the first time that he wanted to get away with us," she said, perhaps a little bitterly.

"That sounds like something dad would say," Dean told her.

"Yeah, well, dad was right sometimes," she muttered. Dean looked at her disbelievingly. While they were growing up, their father had given them orders and expected them to be followed. Skye and Dean, of course, would obey without a second thought (most of the time). Sam, on the other hand, would fight him at every turn. It made for some very tense show-downs. After their father had died, perspective had shifted a little for all of them. Dean was bitter, and Skye thought he secretly wondered if he obeyed John just because it was an easy way not to take charge and responsibility. Sam seemed to have a newfound respect for the man. Skye always thought that Sam and John were the most similar. That would certainly explain why they fought so much. And Skye? Well, Skye knew that there were reasons behind why their dad behaved the way he did sometimes. He might not have gone about it the right way, but he always did have good reasons. She was trying to learn a lesson from John.

If she stayed with Sam, she knew that their personalities would clash, and probably lead to an ultimatum. If that ending could be avoided, it would be by doing something that their dad never seemed to be able to quite grasp- taking some time to consider a problem from a distance. It was worth a try at least. Making Dean understand that was something that was proving more troublesome than she would have thought, though.

"Look," Skye tried again. "Just trust me on this, please. One week away and I'll be stuck so close to your side after that you'll have to go to a dermatologist to get me removed. Okay?"

He let out a long breath and ran his hand down his face. "Fine. But-" He pointed a finger at her. "You don't answer your phone, or you back out of our deal, I will find you."

"Deal," Skye said, a smile in her voice. She groaned and pulled her leg up onto the seat next to her so that she was lounging across the whole booth. The break was throbbing painfully and she was not looking forward to trying to get comfortable in Liam's truck.

"How's that doing anyway?" Dean gestured to her leg and took a sip of coffee.

"The broken leg I've had for less than a day? Just amazing," she said sarcastically.

"Alright, princess." He rolled his eyes. "Sure you don't want me to go grab those pills? Just take a couple of those and you won't have to go with Liam to get away."

"Nah, I'm good. Those things can really mess with my head." Dean grunted in understanding and they sat in comfortable silence for a couple minutes, just enjoying their coffee. Skye watched Sam as they sat. He was sitting in the front seat of the Impala on his laptop. His attention seemed to drift every of couple minutes to his phone, but he didn't pick it up again, at least while she was watching.

The waitress came with their food, and Dean stood to leave. Skye gave him a small wave. He studied her for a second and she gave him a slight smile. "Don't worry. I know how to take care of myself, Dean. Call me if you need me or if he gets any worse," she said, nodding her head in Sam's direction. Dean's eyes looked out to study his brother before they flashed back to Skye. He gave her a curt nod.

"I don't like this, but I don't think there's anything I can do is there?" he asked.

She laughed. "No."

"See you in a week shortstop," he said. With the food in his hand, Dean walked out of the diner. She watched as he and Sam exchanged a few words, and then the Impala roared to life and they disappeared onto the road once again.

It was more uncomfortable than she could have guessed: willingly watching her brothers disappear. Her appetite suddenly gone, Skye nibbled a piece of rye toast before pushing away the plate of food and nursing her coffee again. She waited there, watching the comings and goings of the patrons, and the bustle of the cooks and waitresses. At some point, she dozed off with her head against the cool glass.

She dreamt, though what about she could not have said. All that she knew was that she felt much better when a voice woke her from slumber.

"Hello, sweetheart."

Skye started awake. The handsome face of Liam was looming over her. He was holding back laughter at her surely confused and disheveled look.

"Hey, Liam," she mumbled sitting up and stretching out her muscles.

"You look like hell, darlin'. Weren't kidding about being down a leg, I see," he observed.

"Fuck you too," she said in faux grumpiness, her voice was surprisingly not gruff like it normally was just after she woke. Liam laughed. He was always quick for a smile and a joke. He pulled his wallet from his back pocket and dropped a couple bills onto the table.

"Come on, let's hit the road darlin'," said Liam. She frowned at him.

"I was going to pay for that," she insisted.

"Well, ya snooze, ya loose." he shrugged. His flashed a smile as he shouldered her bag and held a hand out to steady her as she got to her feet. Skye ignored the hand but was glad he was paying attention when she almost lost her balance standing up. He steadied her, the grin becoming more of a smirk.

"Thanks," she said grudgingly after he released her elbow and led the way toward the door. They passed the waitress on the way out. She gave Skye a sideways look. Skye looked down at her clothes to make sure she hadn't dropped food on herself or something of the sort. There was nothing there, but she did realize that she was still in the cut-off jeans and the rough makeshift cast. She supposed she should have changed in the bathroom before Liam had picked her up. That sounded difficult to do on her own though.

"So where we headed off to?" She asked once they were out the door.

Liam her up and down before answering. "When did you manage to do that?" He nodded at her leg.

She looked away from him and crutched a little faster toward his truck. "Last night. Dean fixed it up for me as good as he could. I may need to stop by a store. I don't think any of my pants will fit over this-" Skye trailed off when she realized that Liam had stopped walking and was staring at her with a mixture of incredulity and pity.

"What?" she snapped hotly.

"Skye… Dean is dead… Are you sure that you're okay?" He seemed unsure of himself, which was odd for Liam. The man was almost pure self-confidence and charm.

Skye sighed heavily. Her bad mood hadn't left with her brothers apparently. "Yes, I'm perfectly fine. Dean is back." She shrugged like it was no big deal. "You know how it is.. Dead isn't really dead in our line of work." He gave her a disbelieving look. "Fine. I'll prove it if you don't believe me." She hobbled quickly to the truck and leaned her crutches against it. Balancing on one leg, she fished her phone from her pocket.

Liam walked forward calmly and put a hand over hers to stop her from dialing. She could feel his hot breath on her face. Her heart rate increased, but she ignored the uneasiness and met his eyes. They were furrowed in concern. "I'm not crazy," she whispered. "He really is alive."

His golden eyes didn't leave hers, but he slowly slid his hand from off. "Okay, doll. I believe you," Liam said. His voice no louder than hers had been. It sounded sincere, but she thought he was probably just humoring her. "Come on. Let's go get a room and get you all cleaned up. Can't have you going out in public looking like a battered woman." She scoffed but put her phone carefully back into her pocket. She almost lost balance, but Liam grabbed her waist to steady her.

Skye's breath caught at the contact, but she otherwise ignored it, and reached for her crutches like nothing out of the ordinary was happening. When she was steady and supported, Liam opened the passenger door for her. Skye brushed off his helping hand, already tired of feeling like an invalid, and used the door to hoist herself into the vehicle. He chuckled lowly under his breath and loaded everything into the back before jumping in and starting the engine.

…..

The hotel that Liam took her to was nicer than the ones that she and her siblings could usually afford. The beds were actually adorned with comforters and instead of just a mini fridge, there was actually a small area for cooking. Not to mention that the hotel actually had a pool, steam room, and jacuzzi. She loved swimming, but, apparently, that wasn't happening anytime soon due to unfortunate circumstances.

She lounged on one of the beds and flipped through the channels half-heartedly. Liam had gone to get her some pants that would fit over her splint. He'd been gone for nearly two hours already. She hoped that he brought back food. She was starving, having hardly touched her breakfast. Sam and Dean had called to check in. They weren't sure what they were dealing with yet but were on their way to check it out. She hoped that they would be okay. They were both A-class hunters, but Travis was no slouch either, and he had called for backup. That was always worrying. She felt useless here, laying around watching daytime TV and not even being able to exercise. At least her leg wasn't hurting her at the moment. She supposed she had to take her wins where she could find them.

Skye switched off the TV and laid fully back on the bed. The ceiling was a boring flat white. In the hotels she normally stayed, there would always be something interesting on the ceilings. Well, perhaps interesting isn't the correct word, but there would be something to look at anyway. It could be a stain of a mysterious origin or color, a tacky mirror centered directly above the bed (that Skye tried not to think about), or even the popcorn ceiling. It was like this hotel room refused to take on an identity of its own in case it might offend someone. Bland. Bland walls. Blank ceiling and uninspired carpet.

Skye flipped to her side. The room was on the ground floor, and she would have an excellent view of the parking lot if the curtains were open. Just a sliver of light shined through them. She traced it with her eyes watching the small particles in the air dance within it. A shadow flickered across darkening the room for a second before passing. Skye watched the door for a second, thinking that Liam might have returned, but when the door didn't open she sighed and reached for her laptop bag. She might as well try and find a case if she was going to be cooped up in this room all day.

It was just out of her reach, but she stretched her arm as far as it could reach until her fingertips just brushed the material. She groaned and reached a little further, trying to add some length to her arms that didn't exist. A small push with her good foot sent her tumbling to the ground hard.

"Oww," she groaned, before rolling to a sitting position and clutching her leg, which had been jarred from the fall.

"You need to be more careful," a gravelly voice spoke. Skye started at the voice, grabbing blindly for the knife she had put on the nightstand. Her hand hit the lamp, which shattered all over the floor. A piece of glass bit into her hand, but Skye didn't notice. Failing to find her knife immediately, she grabbed one of the larger pieces of glass and hurled it at the intruder, just milliseconds before she realized who it was. The glass hit its mark on Castiel's chest, but he just glanced at it before looking back to Skye.

She glared at the angel. Her palm was creating a blood stain on the floor, her leg was still throbbing from the fall, and her breathing was heavy from the fright. "Yeah, I'll keep that in mind," she panted sarcastically, knowing that arguing with Castiel was a lost cause. She tried to push herself off the ground so she wasn't having a conversation from the floor, but her palms just dug into the glass on the ground, and she gave up with a hiss of pain. "What do you want, Cas?"

"I want peace on earth and to fly with the bees. They really are extraordinary creatures," he said in all seriousness.

Skye tried not to smile. "I meant," she said. "Why are you here right now?"

"It has come to my attention that you are hurt. I was unable to get away until now."

"Oh?"Skye asked, still unsure about why he had appeared here so unexpectedly. If it was just to lecture her about being more careful, she wasn't too stoked about the visit.

"Yes," he said gravely. With no forewarning, he moved forward and was kneeling before Skye in an instant.

"Uh, whatcha doing there Columbo?" She asked uncomfortably.

He raised his hand and Skye shied away from it, as if from a rearing snake. "I have come to heal you," he said, brows furrowed in confusion. His hand was still held steady in the air.

"Yeah," she said slowly. "Just-uh-a little warning next time would be good." She glanced away from his hand for an instant so she could examine the floor around her for glass. There was no way she would be sitting up any straighter without it cutting into her palms, but she was prepared for it this time and didn't show any signs of pain as it was pushed deep into her hands. When she looked back up Castiel's hand found her forehead, despite her words.

An all-encompassing white-hot fire filled her being. It was not at all unpleasant, in fact, her whole body rejoiced at a touch of grace. It lasted a mere second but spread from the touch on her head to the tip of her toes, and left behind a pleasant tingling as if all the nerve endings in her body were able to be fully relaxed for the first time in her life. Her eyes had drifted closed and she let free an involuntary sigh of contentment.

She slowly opened her eyes, forgetting for a moment that there was someone else in the room with her until she was staring into the blue depths of Castiel's eyes where the glow of his true form shined through. He was still only inches from her, but the warmth of his touch had disappeared. Eyes glued to his, she opened her mouth to thank him, for she knew all of her injuries were mended, but before she could form a word, he spoke abruptly.

"I am needed," Castiel said. He was on his feet in an instant and had disappeared before Skye could blink. She was left breathless in awe and confusion still surrounded by broken glass on the hotel floor.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who followed favorited and reviewed. Sorry this chapter took me so long to post! The next one will be very exciting. Leave me a review with what you thought, and I hope you all enjoyed :)