Okay, usually I'm a really nice person, but I can also be a total bitch. If you don't like my stories, don't comment. It's as simple as that. There's a reason I put warnings in my story descriptions. If you don't like it, don't fucking read it. And if you read it anyways, don't bitch to me about the fact that you don't like what you were warned about in the first place. I don't care. It's that damn simple. Don't make me write you into my story and kill you off. As for everyone whose left me wonderful reviews, I love you all and I'm sending you delicious dreams of naked Sammy and Deano.
Okay, now that I'm off my soapbox, this chapter is a tag for episode 2x12 Nightshifter. Dean and Sam belong to Eric Kripke and the CW, as do any lines originally from the episode. Tawny's mine. The lyrics are from Renegade by Styx.
Oh mama, I'm in fear for my life
From the long arm of the law
Lawman has put an end to my running
And I'm so far from my home
Oh mama, I can hear your crying
You're so scared and all alone
Hangman is coming down from the gallows
And I don't have very long
Dean is already spread out on one of the crappy single beds when Tawny walks into the motel room. She watches for a moment as he stares at the TV and knows he isn't paying attention at all to the infomercial for some souped-up microwave. He's got his thinking face on, a face Tawny's come to know well over the years. His eyes are glazed over, the brows furrowed just enough to put that little line between them and a slight crinkle around the outside corners of his eyes, and his jaw is tense, the muscle twitching slightly as he clenches and releases. There's also a dead give-away to what he's thinking about; the thumb and forefinger of his right hand are on his chest, rubbing at the pendant around his neck.
Sam.
Dean looks up when Tawny closes the door. She smiles at him, and he returns it, but Tawny can tell it's a forced smile by the way his green eyes stay flat. He turns away, looking back at the TV, so Tawny walks over to the edge of the bed, kicking off her shoes before crawling up next to Dean. When he doesn't raise his arm to let her curl against his side she knows there's something wrong.
"Dean?" she murmurs hesitantly, putting a hand on his forearm. He hums, not turning away from the TV, so Tawny leans over him and grabs the remote, turning it off.
"Hey! I was watching that," he protests, leaning for the remote in her hand, but she tosses it to the other bed and perches herself on his waist, her thighs trapping his hips.
"No you weren't," Tawny says, putting her hands on his chest. "You were thinking. Hard, by the look of it. You're upset."
Dean scoffs, turning away and glaring at the wall, which totally proves Tawny's point. He doesn't speak, so Tawny continues.
"Are you seriously jealous of Sam?" she asks suddenly. They haven't talked about what happened the night Sam got drunk and Tawny knows she shouldn't push it, but after Dean's supposed acceptance of having to share Tawny with Sam, Tawny knows that him drawing away from her can only mean one thing: He lied to her, either because he's more worried about Sam's already fragile psyche and knows Tawny can take care of him or, more likely, so neither of them try to make Dean talk it out.
Dean turns his eyes to her, the green darkening with anger. "No, I'm not jealous of Sam," he says, looking at a spot over her shoulder before his eyes flick back to hers.
"Unless there's something I should be jealous of."
"Dean," she half whines, half warns. He raises his eyebrows and Tawny can feel an angry heat spreading through her chest. "Dean!" she says, louder this time and leans back, unable to help the glare she shoots at him.
"You don't seriously think Sam and I are doing anything behind your back," she says, putting her hands on his shoulders. When he stays silent Tawny angrily swings her leg out and moves off of his lap to kneel beside him, her knees brushing his hip.
"This is unbelievable," she mutters, putting her hand to her forehead. Dean scoffs and shifts, swinging his legs around to stand. He starts to walk away from Tawny but she stands, too.
"Don't you dare walk away from me!" she yells, walking briskly over to him and grabbing his shoulder. Dean wrenches away from her, turning to look at her furiously.
"What do you want me to say, Tawny?" he asks, throwing his arms up. "That I don't like how close you and Sam are? That I am jealous of him? I am! There! I've said it! I hate what you and Sam have! I've always hated it!"
His chest heaves and Tawny looks at him, confused and angry.
"What exactly do you think we have, Dean?" she asks, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Oh, you know! The way you two seem to read each other's minds! How you can tell each other anything! Sometimes I think you'd rather be with him!" Dean bellows, glaring at Tawny. His words make Tawny's chest ache. She loves Sam, sure, but Dean's always been the one she wanted.
"Dean, that's not true," she says, taking a step towards him. He backs away from her, and she can see tears in his eyes and suddenly knows how much it hurts him to see Tawny so close to another man, to see her comforting him, even if it is Sam, and Tawny wants to take it all back.
"Dean, I love Sam, okay? What Sam and I have, though – it isn't even remotely romantic. Sam's always been my best friend. I – I guess it's because we have so much in common," she says, her own tears stinging her eyes. Dean looks hurt, his green eyes conveying the emotions he so often tries to hide, betraying him.
"We have stuff in common, too," Dean says, and Tawny's breath hitches in her chest at how small he sounds, like a kid who's best friend ditched him for the cool new kid. He lets Tawny approach him like a wounded animal, tentatively reaching out to put a hand on his side. She flattens her palm against his ribcage, rubbing soft circles with her thumb.
"I know we do, but growing up we – you were so different from me and Sam. You were so strong. You were always so distant when we were little, to keep us from knowing what our dads were really doing, then when we were old enough you were off on hunts with them. And four years is a big difference at that age, so I guess Sam and I kind of banded together. We could share secrets and turn to each other. But he won't ever give me what you do," Tawny says softly. Dean looks away, cupping his hand over his nose to angrily wipe away a tear. Tawny reaches up, pulling his hand to her mouth to press a few kisses into the back of it.
"Dean, look at me," she softly asks, and he does without making Tawny ask again. "No one will ever replace you. Sam might be my hero, but that doesn't mean he comes before you. You mean so much to me, Dean. Can I tell you something?" she offers, and Dean nods. She takes a deep breath, trying to push down the lump in her throat.
"If it came down to it," she starts, wrapping her other hand around Dean's, holding it tightly between her palms, looking at the ring on his finger. "I know I could live without Sam. If something happens to him – don't get me wrong, it would hurt – but it wouldn't be completely unbearable. But if anything ever happened to you –" Tawny's forced to stop as a sob works its way loose, but she presses on, looking up at Dean.
"Dean, if I ever lose you it'll kill me," she manages and a tear falls down her cheek, settling in the corner of her mouth. Dean looks at her doubtfully, so she crowds into his space, pressing her chest against his, holding his hand to her throat. "I'm serious, Dean. The moment you stop breathing, so do I. I don't want to live without you. 'Cause you make me whole. You're the only person who does."
The first thing Tawny feels when Dean's lips crash down onto hers is relief. It washes over her, bathing her in its calm warmth. She lets go of Dean's hand, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt to pull him as close to her as possible as his hands fumble with her jeans. Desire fills Tawny's chest, desire for Dean, for the way only he can fill her, for the feeling of his skin on hers, but most of all, the desire to show him that she means what she says.
Tawny looks up from Sam's laptop when the door slams. She'd gone to the morgue earlier to see the bodies of the two apparently suicidal criminals and learned absolutely nothing, and now she was checking the email account Dean teased her about having. She tried to convince him last night that it comes in handy, but he only kissed her mouth, called her a nerd, and turned on the TV.
"Man, that has got to be the kicker, straight up," Dean says. He's been staring at the various papers on the wall, occasionally sipping at a beer for the past hour or so. Tawny looks at him curiously until he continues.
"When you told that poor son of a bitch to, what did you say – 'remand' the tapes that he copied? 'Classified evidence of an ongoing investigation'? That's messed up," he says, chuckling dryly. Dean turns and sets his beer down as he sits at the table. Sam turns on the TV and looks at Dean.
"What, are you pissed at me or something?" he asks, and Tawny rolls her eyes. No matter how much she loves them, their almost constant bickering gets on her nerves sometimes. Dean leans over a blueprint of the sewer lines he had Tawny dig up at the library after she went to the morgue.
"No, I just think it's a little creepy how good of a fed you are," he replies, picking up a marker. "Come on, we could have at least thrown the guy a bone. He did some pretty good legwork here."
Tawny watches as he lays a piece of tracing paper over the blueprint and starts writing, and Sam scoffs.
" 'Man-droid'?"
Dean looks up. "Except for the man-droid part." He goes back to writing. "I liked him. He's not that different from us. People think we're crazy. Especially Tawny." He looks up at her sends her that annoyingly adorable shit-eating grin and she shoots him a look before getting off of the bed to walk behind Sam, who's turned and scolding Dean.
"Yeah, except he's not a hunter, Dean. He's just some guy who stumbled onto something real. If he were to go up against this thing, he'd get torn apart. Better to stay in the dark and stay alive."
Dean looks up and frowns. "Yeah, I guess."
Tawny looks at the screen and see's the evidence of what they're hunting. A shapeshifter. She's never come up against one before; her father has, and she knows Sam and Dean have. Sam finally told her what happened in St. Louis after they were arrested in Baltimore, and it made Tawny hate their kind even more. If it hadn't been for one of them, Dean wouldn't have to watch his back so closely. Sam's scoff brings her out of her thoughts.
"Shapeshifter. Just like back in St. Louis. Same retinal reaction to video."
"Eyes flare at the camera," Tawny murmurs, looking over at Dean.
"I hate those freaking things," Dean says, looking at the screen. Tawny walks over to him and loops her arms around his neck, hugging him from behind. He leans into her chest, humming contentedly as she puts her chin on his shoulder.
"You think I don't?" Sam accuses.
"Yeah, well one didn't turn into you and frame you for murder," Dean points out. Tawny presses a kiss to the side of his neck, smiling when he hums happily again, before pulling away to get back into the bed.
"Well, look," Sam continues "if this shifter's anything like the one we killed in Missouri –"
"Then Ronald's right," Dean finishes. Tawny looks between them. Sometimes she finds it a relief to just be able to sit back and watch them do all the thinking.
"Alright, they like to lair up underground, preferably the sewer. All the robberies" he holds up the paper he's been writing on and lays it over a map of the city "have been connected so far, right? Through the, uh, sewer main layout. There's one more bank lined up on that same sewer main."
He looks between Sam and Tawny before standing. Tawny groans when he heads for his duffle.
"We're going tonight, aren't we?"
"Audrey Turner?"
Tawny stands, smiling at the bank clerk who is calling her over. Sam and Dean went in ten minutes ago as tech's "updating the security cameras", so Tawny had to come in under the guise of a woman just looking to open a new bank account. So she does her best to look friendly as she walks over to the woman.
"Hi, I'm Betty Worth," she introduces, holding out a hand. Tawny shakes it and is led to a desk. "So, how can I help you today?"
Tawny smiles again. "I'd just like to open a new account, please," she says, looking around. Something suddenly feels distinctly off about the situation, and Tawny wonders if Sam and Dean are in trouble.
"Ma'am? Are you alright?" Betty asks, and Tawny looks at her.
"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," Tawny replies. Betty nods and smiles.
"I'll need a photo ID," she says. Tawny reaches into her pocket to pull out the ID she'd grabbed before leaving when she hears a scream followed by "This is not a robbery!". She turns around just in time to see some guy with a massive assault rifle fire two rounds into the ceiling. For some strange reason, she assumes that this is Ronald. If it is, she's going to beat the hell outta Sam for pissing him off.
Tawny obeys his demands and goes over to the counter, kneeling against it. She's shushing Betty, who's on the brink of hyperventilating, when Sam and Dean walk out.
"Hey, buddy," Dean calls, and Ronald looks over. "Why don't you calm down? Just calm down."
"What?" Ronald mutters and raises the gun, and for a split second Tawny thinks he's going to shoot Dean, but he only bellows "You!", and Tawny can see that angry-animal edge in his eyes and knows this isn't going to end well.
"Get on the floor, now!" Ronald yells, gesturing with the gun. They both kneel.
"Okay, we're doing that," Dean mutters "Just don't shoot anybody, especially us."
"I knew it – as soon as you two left," Ronald starts, and Tawny catches Dean's eyes. She smiles faintly and he winks. "You ain't FBI. Who are you? Who're you workin' for, huh? The men in black? You working for the man-droid?"
Tawny's snort rings out through the silent building and Ronald turns, waving the gun dangerously.
"Shut up!"
He turns back to Sam and Dean and raises the gun again.
"We're not working for the man-droid!" Sam says, and Ronald snarls.
"You shut up! I ain't talkin' to you! I don't like you!"
Tawny raises her eyebrows. For a second she wonders if this is the first time someone hasn't liked Sam, but she shakes it off, going back to rubbing Betty's shoulders soothingly.
"Fair enough," Sam mutters, leaning back on his heels.
Ronald orders someone to frisk them down, and before Tawny can volunteer because she knows Dean has at least a knife on him, a man stands and walks over to them. He pats Sam down first, doesn't find anything, and when he moves to Dean everything seems fine until he gets to Dean's right ankle. He lifts the cuff of Dean's pants and pulls out a silver knife. He hands it to Ronald, who drops it into a trashcan.
"We know you don't wanna hurt anybody," Dean says desperately, glancing over at Tawny again. She wonders if he's actually worried about her. For some reason she's never thought about what goes through his mind on a hunt. She spends so much energy worrying about him, she doesn't really have any left to wonder if he does the same.
"But that's exactly what's gonna happen if you keep waving that cannon around. Why don't you let these people go?"
"No!" Ronald says, and by now he looks desperate. "I already told you. If nobody's gonna stop this thing, then I've gotta do it myself!"
"We believe you!" Dean suddenly yells, and Tawny looks at him. "That's why we're here!"
"You don't believe me! Nobody believes me! How could they?"
Dean looks back over at Tawny. They have to tell him, because if they don't, people will die. She nods enough for him to see.
"Come here," he says quietly, gesturing to Ronald. Ronald looks over at the crowd, as if he knows Dean was communicating with someone, then looks back at Dean.
"What? No!"
"You're holding the gun, boss. You're calling the shots. I just wanna tell you something, c'mere," he says, and Tawny's stomach flips. What if Ronald shoots Dean? She meant what she said in the motel. If Dean dies, so does she.
She watches as Ronald approaches them and Dean whispers something. Tawny can't make out the next few sentences exchanged, but then Dean raises his voice.
"No, no! We're runnin' outta time, okay, we gotta find him before he changes into someone else."
Ronald raises the gun again.
"Like I'm gonna listen to you. You're a damn liar," he says, aiming at Dean. Dean moves to get up and Tawny suddenly can't breathe.
"I'll shoot you! Get down!" Ronald warns, and Tawny can see his finger on the trigger.
"Take me," Dean offers. "Take me as a hostage. But we gotta act fast, 'cause the longer we just sit here, the more time he has to change." Ronald readjusts the gun and Dean takes half a step forward. "Look at me, man. I believe you. You're not crazy. There really is something inside this bank."
Ronald looks at Dean for a long time before finally agreeing.
"Alright," he says, lowering the gun. "Y-you come with me. But everyone else gets in the vault!"
They all stand and Tawny takes up the back, walking just in front of Sam. When they're finally in the vault she looks at Dean, frowning as he starts to close the door.
"It's okay everyone," he says, looking pointedly at Tawny. "Just stay cool."
The door closes and she hears the lock engage as a woman she recognizes as one of the bank's tellers leans over to her.
"Who is that man?" she asks, and before Tawny can answer Sam speaks.
"He's my brother."
Tawny walks over and puts a hand on his arm, rubbing it softly as he looks down at her. She can't even fake a smile.
"He is so brave," the woman breathes, and it's all Tawny can do to keep from turning around and knocking the bitch's fucking teeth out.
Tawny is seriously considering beating the shit out of this Sheri chick. They've been in the vault about 20 minutes, 15 or so of it without power, and Tawny is hot, tired, scared, and sick of this dumb bimbo talking about her boyfriend like he's some sex god.
"Has your brother always been so… wonderful?" she asks Sam, laughing. Sam doesn't answer, so she continues. "I mean, staring down that gun. And the way he played right into the psycho's crazy head, telling him what he wanted to hear? I mean, he's a real- " she chuckles, and Tawny walks up to her "hero or something."
Tawny grabs her shoulder, spinning her around and slamming her back into the wall. She ignores Sam's look of surprise and presses her forearm into Sheri's neck, putting just enough pressure to let her know Tawny means business.
"Shut the fuck up! Did it ever cross your mind that someone here might think of him as more than some glorified blow-up doll? Did it even into your little fucking brain that he might have a girlfriend? He's out there, risking his god damned life, and you're in here practically asking how big his dick is. So just shut the fuck up!"
Sam grabs Tawny's waist and pulls her away and Sheri gasps for breath.
"You crazy bitch!" she manages, but before she can do anything the door opens and she sees Dean standing there.
"Oh, my God! You saved us! You saved us!" she enthuses, but then she sees the gun in his hand.
"Actually," he replies, "I just found a few more." He starts waving people in, and Tawny can't help but smirk at the look on Sheri's face.
"What are you doing?" she asks, but Dean ignores her.
"Sam, Tawny, uh, Ronald and I need to talk to you," he says, looking at them instead. Tawny walks over to him and he kisses her temple, like he planned on showing Sheri who he belongs to. Tawny looks at her and shrugs, smirking before Dean closes the door.
Dean and Ronald lead them out to the lobby before Dean explains anything.
"It shed its skin again," he says, looking at Tawny. "We don't know when. It could be in the halls, the vault.
"Great," Tawny mutters, leaning against the counter. She looks over at Sam, who in turn looks at Dean.
"You know, Dean, you are wanted by the police. Tawny, too," he points out, and Tawny's stomach drops.
"Yeah," Dean says, rubbing his chin.
"So, even if we do find this damn thing, how the hell are we gonna get out of here?"
"One problem at a time," Dean says, walking over to Tawny. "Tawny and I are gonna do a sweep of the whole place, see if we can find any stragglers. Once we get everyone together then we gotta play a little game of 'Find the Freak'." He pulls a silver letter-opener out and hands it to Sam. "Here, I found another one of these things for you. Stay here, make sure Ronald doesn't hurt anybody. Help him manage the –"
But Sam cuts him off.
"Help him manage?" he says loudly, and Tawny looks up at him. "Are you insane?"
Dean looks at Sam for a moment before turning to Ronald and shooting him a double thumbs-up.
"Look, Sam," Tawny whispers, smiling at Ronald, who looks thoroughly confused. "I know this isn't going the way we wanted –"
"Understatement," Sam yells, and Tawny shoots him a glare.
"But," she continues, taking a step towards him "if we invite the cops in right now, Ronald gets arrested, we get arrested, and the damn shifter gets away. Probably never find it again, okay –"
Sam raises his eyebrows and gestures to Ronald, whose standing right smack in the center of the beam of a spotlight.
"Ronald! Get outta the light!" she hisses, and Dean rolls his eyes.
"Seriously?" Sam asks, and Tawny sighs, shifting her weight.
"Okay, Ron's game plan was a bad plan," Dean interjects "It was a bit of a crazy plan, but right now crazy's the only game in town, okay?"
He grabs Tawny's hand and without another word he pulls her out of the lobby.
When Tawny first hears the gunshot she thinks its Dean that's been shot. He pulls her down behind a counter, shielding her body with his, and her hand immediately go to his chest, checking for bullet holes. She pulls at his shirt, not seeing any blood, and he looks down at her like he knows what she's doing.
"It was Ron," he says, but Tawny isn't reassured. It could have so easily been Dean. She knows that they wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet through his perfect chest, and that scares the hell out of Tawny. He lets her touch, though, triple checking for blood, tears in his shirt, any sign of an injury. When she still doesn't find any he raises a hand to cup her cheek, presses a kiss roughly onto her hairline, and nods towards a longer counter. They shuffle over to it and Sam quickly joins them, looking between Dean and Tawny. He reaches down and pulls the key to what Tawny assumes is the lock on the front door and hands it to Dean.
"Take care of the guard," he says, and Tawny looks between the key and Sam's face. "I'm going after the shifter."
Before either Dean or Tawny can protest he crouches and runs off. Dean hands her the guards revolver and turns, letting her grab at the back of his jeans. They move behind another counter in unison, Dean looking at Ronald's gun before shifting his gaze to the body lying a few feet away. She looks warily at the red dot moving over his body, knowing that there's still a sniper ready to open fire at the first sign of movement.
"Sorry, Ron," Dean mutters, and Tawny can't help the momentary sting of emotion in her chest. He was just doing the right thing, something Tawny would probably have done if she didn't know what she did. "You did a real good job tracking this thing, you really did." He grabs the rifle and looks at Tawny, nodding towards the entrance to the bank. She nods, letting him know she's good, and they move towards it.
They grab the guard at the foot of the stairs, Tawny muttering reassurances as they slowly walked him up, but her finger never leaves the trigger of the gun in her hand. When they make it to the door the three of them are bathed in the flutter blue and red lights of two dozen patrol cars waiting outside. Dean opens the door, pushing the guard out in front of them, and Tawny hears Dean shout for them to get back, but all Tawny can focus on are the seven or eight lasers pointing in Dean's general direction.
He finally gets back inside and relocks the door, and Tawny's hand subconsciously goes to his back, gripping his shirt tightly. "We are so screwed," he mutters, and for the first time tonight Tawny couldn't agree more.
Tawny knows it's a mistake the moment she picks up the phone.
"Yeah," she says, looking at Dean. He raises his eyebrows and she shrugs.
"This is Special Agent Victor Hendrickson."
Tawny rolls her eyes. Great. The FBI.
"Listen, we're not really in a negotiating kind of mood, so, do me a favor, and don't call back," she says. She's about to hang up when she hears her name. She raises the phone back to her ear, an icy bolt of fear shooting through her stomach.
"What did you say?" she asks, looking at Dean, her eyes wide.
"I know who you are, Tawny, and I know Dean's in there with you. Now, give him the phone," Agent Hendrickson says. Tawny swallows.
"Why should I do that?" she asks, looking away from Dean. She hears a chuckle on the other end, and she knows it isn't from amusement.
"You're good at protecting your own, Tawny. But, tell me, how can you protect your father if you're running around the country with your boyfriend?"
Her father. This smug bastard was going after her father.
"Fine," she snaps, holding the phone out to Dean. "It's for you."
He looks at it for a moment, almost as if he expects it to bite, before finally taking it.
"Yeah?" he asks. There's a pause where Tawny can't quite make out what's being said.
"Whoa, that's kinda hard for a federal agent, don't you think?" Dean says, then Tawny can hear Agent Hendrickson speaking. She doesn't need to know what he's saying by watching Dean's face.
"Yeah, well, that part's true, but I think she's prettier than Bonnie, don't you? How'd you even know we were here?" There's another long pause where Dean holds Tawny's gaze, and when Dean starts speaking again she feels her heart drop.
"You don't know crap about my dad," Dean says, his mouth turning down. Tawny walks over and puts a hand on his hip, slipping her first two fingers into his pocket. She can hear Agent Hendrickson clearer now that she's closer, and knows he's talking about John. She suddenly hates him. She hears him call John a wacko and anger turns her stomach.
"You got no right talking about my dad like that," Dean says, and Tawny tugs him closer. "He was a hero."
She distinctly hears Hendrickson give them one hour and then a click. Dean raises the phone angrily before slamming it back down, turning to Tawny. She knows words won't do jack-shit so she leans up and wraps her arms around his neck, hugging him. He embraces her back, rubbing soft circles into it with his palm as he buries his face in her hair. He kisses her neck and takes a deep breath, and she lets him hold on as long as he needs to, if only because she knows he needs an anchor right now. And maybe because she needs him to hold her, too. She hears Sam walk in and Dean pulls away.
"Hey," he says, grabbing the rifle off of the table. "We got a bit of a problem outside." The worried look Tawny's expecting doesn't come, and Sam chuckles.
"We got a problem in here," he says, pointing to the vault door. Tawny grabs the revolver and walks over to Sam, tucking the gun into the back of her jeans and pulling her jacket over it as she gets to him.
"Who is it?" she asks, and Sam gives her a tense smirk.
"Your B.F.F. Sheri," he responds, and the satisfaction Tawny feels infuriates her. She shouldn't be happy that an innocent person is dead, no matter how much she'd lusted after Dean. Just the thought of it sickens her.
Dean opens the vault door and she can see 'Sheri' standing just inside.
"Sheri? We're gonna let you go," Dean says, and she looks at him.
"What?" she asks, confused. "Why me?"
"Uh, as a show of good faith to the feds. C'mon," Dean replies, but 'Sheri' catches a glimpse of Tawny standing behind him and backs off.
"Uh… I think I'd rather stay here with the others," she says, and Tawny steps forward.
"I'm afraid I'm gonna have to insist," Tawny says, walking towards her. She pulls out the revolver out and lets it hang loosely by her side, knowing it won't do much good other than to help the shifter keep its cover. It works, though, because 'Sheri' walks towards them and out of the vault. Once the door is closed Tawny grabs her arm roughly, pulling her through the halls behind Sam, whose leading them towards the body. Once they get to the small office Tawny shoves her in, letting her see the body in full.
The shriek that 'Sheri' lets out almost throws Tawny off guard, but she knows that, when faced with imminent death, everything will make a last ditch effort to avoid it.
"What is that, community theater? Or are you just naturally that good?" Dean asks, and Tawny grins. Sam grabs her arm, raising the silver letter opener.
"This is the last time you become anybody, ever," he says, and 'Sheri' manages to pull away. She lets out one last strangled sob, then faints.
"Uh… okay," Tawny says, looking between the two Sheri's, thoroughly confused. She's wondering why the shifter would pretend to faint, making itself vulnerable to attack. I mean, it just pretty much laid down to die. Dean is kneeling over vault-Sheri, about to stab her, when Tawny stops him.
"Dean, wait," she says, and he turns to look up at Tawny. "What's the advantage of this plan? I mean, fainting now wouldn't help it survive."
Dean turns and looks at dead-Sheri before looking back up at Tawny.
"Oh," he replies simply. He looks between the two Sheris one more time before crawling over to dead-Sheri. A loud crash distracts them, and Tawny knows the SWAT team has just made an entrance. Unfortunately, this gives dead-Sheri time to reach up and grab Dean's throat, revealing itself to be the shifter. Tawny runs towards Dean but the shifter kicks her feet out from under her, sending Tawny crashing to the ground. Her head clips the table next to the door, making the room spin. Real Sheri screams and grabs at Sam, whose face is suddenly split into two as Tawny looks at him.
"Get her outta here!" she hears Dean yell, and Sam does so, pulling Sheri out of the room as Dean receives a kick to the side. He topples down next to Tawny and the shifter takes the opportunity to bolt out of the room. Dean looks down, pulling Tawny up to a sitting position. "You okay, baby?" he asks, lifting a hand to the knot growing on the back of her head. She closes her eyes for a minute and when she opens them the spinning of the room is down to a slight swaying.
"Uh-huh," she mumbles, and Dean pulls her to her feet. By the time they make it to the basement the room is no longer moving, but there's a distinct throbbing behind Tawny's eyes. They're almost spotted by to SWAT members, but Dean pulls Tawny into the shadows just in time. When the SWAT members walk off Dean and Tawny continue to look for the shifter. Tawny can feel her pulse in her head and she pauses, closing her eyes as the room tilts dramatically. When she opens her eyes again, Dean is looking at her and the shifter is right behind him. He must see the look in her eyes because he turns, and the shifter plants the heel of its hand into his nose. Tawny doesn't hear the distinctive crack, so she knows his nose isn't broken, but he stumbles back.
Tawny makes a move towards the shifter, but it grabs one of her shoulders, spinning her around and shoving her into a wall. Her head slams into it, this time in the same spot Gordon Walker had hit her, and she crumples to the ground, her vision going in and out. She can hear the muffled sound of Dean and the shifter fighting, and her eyes drift closed for a moment. Suddenly someone's shifting her body, kneeling above her, and she opens her eyes to see Dean's only about an inch away. She jumps, her vision slowly clearing, and he grabs her wrists to keep her from springing to her feet.
"Hey! Hey, baby, it's just me," he reassures, letting go of her wrists to raise his hands to cup her cheeks. He turns her head gently, looking at what's sure to be a quickly blooming bruise on her forehead. When he finally looks back in her eyes she can see his tears.
"God dammit, Tawny," he breathes, his voice thick. She leans in and kisses him, feeling his lips quivering against hers.
"Baby," she manages, lifting a hand to run her fingers across his stubbled jaw. "I'm okay. It's just, with all these whacks to the head… I'm as dumb as you, now."
Tawny's not sure how she manages to climb the stairs to the parking garage between the SWAT uniform and her pounding head, but she does. She's pretty sure that Sam found the largest three men possible to steal uniforms from. She nearly cried when Dean told her she would have to leave her favorite pair of boots behind. She'd had them for almost ten years, and they were so perfectly broken in she felt like they were just an extension of her body.
The three of them finally get to the floor the Impala's on and slow to an almost leisurely walk, so Tawny takes the opportunity to gently pull off the helmet and protective goggles. The pressure in her head immediately dissipates and she breathes a sigh of relief as she pushes up the mask, letting the cool air refresh her skin. Neither of the boys removes anything until they're all in the car, Tawny even more squished than usual from all of the equipment they were wearing. Both of them remove their helmets, tossing them at Tawny's feet before pushing up their own masks.
"We are so screwed," Dean mutters, turning on the car. None of them speak again until they're near Clinton. Dean pulls off of I-43 and finds a heavily wooded area, where he pulls off to the side of the road and turns the car off.
"Change quickly," he says, getting out. Tawny climbs out after him, following him around to put the gun she's had in her lap for nearly an hour carefully in next to his before circling around to the back door to rifle through her duffle. She finds a pair of jeans and closes it, grabbing at Dean's bag to dig out a pair for him, and two shirts. Tawny's silent until she and Dean are in a small clearing a few yards back from the road. She gets the uniform off and turns to watch as Dean takes his shirt off, revealing a large purpled bruise on the right side of his ribcage.
"Oh, baby," she breathes, walking over to him. He lifts his arm and looks down at the bruise, shrugging like it's just a mosquito bite. She softly presses her fingers to it, feeling the tell-tale lump of a broken rib before he hisses and pulls away.
"Sorry," she mutters, turning to pull on her jeans and the shirt she took from him. She inhales deeply and his scent automatically soothes her. By the time they get back to the car, Sam's waiting impatiently against the hood. He practically springs up, glaring at Dean and Tawny as they get closer to the car.
"What the hell took you so long?" he demands and Dean sighs, throwing the SWAT uniforms into the back seat through the open window.
"God, calm down, Sasquatch. Don't get your panties in a bunch," he says, holding the door open for Tawny. She slides in, followed closely by Dean, who starts the car and gets back on the highway. A few minutes of silence passes, and Tawny's head starts to throb again, so she leans her head back. She's barely closed her eyes when she feels a hand on her knee, and when she looks up Dean glances at her.
"Here," he offers quietly, and he extends his arm, letting her scoot into his side. She lays her head on his shoulder and almost immediately drifts off to sleep.