Sam shook his head, taking another step forward, "How did she get it? How is Mantha psychic now?" "You transferred it. As you were meant to do." "Wait...I gave it to her?" "Yes. It was destined." "Why?" But Castiel was gone.
Dean replaced the gun in the waistband of his pants, the frown on his face etched into his brow. He glanced to Sam, tilting his head and released a half growl, half sigh.
"Oh, they're going to love this," he said, crossing his arms over the expanse of his chest.
"I can't even begin to think of how to 'Train' them. We've been doing this our whole lives, Dean. There's no way those women can learn how to be hunters in however long we have."
"Not to mention we don't know what we're protecting them from. And last time I checked, I wasn't a freaking baby sitter."
Sam placed his palms on the hood of the car, brooding, rattled by the revelation. Shaking his head, he turned back to the door and opened it, Dean following behind him to enter back into the hotel room. Sarah was sitting in the chair, laptop open before her on the table. Her hand was on her brow, and she was muttering to herself. Sam glanced around for Mantha and heard the blast from the shower.
"She okay?" he asked before he could stop himself.
"No," Sarah muttered, pulling her hand from her eyes to look at him, "She's royally screwed."
"What?" Dean frowned.
Sarah stood, shaking her head, and moved to the bed, gesturing to the computer with a hand, "See for yourself."
Dean moved to the computer, Sam behind him. Taking a seat, Dean focused his eyes on the photo and the description, while Sam read over his shoulder. They read quietly for a long moment before looking to Sarah almost simultaneously.
"Crap," Sam muttered.
"I don't—I can't...I have no words with what we're dealing with right now," Dean spoke then, "Demons, shifters, monsters. That we can handle. Angels, though, are a completely new thing to us..."
Sarah hesitated on voicing her thoughts, sitting on the bed and crossing her legs. Taking a deep breath, she glanced at Sam and stared hard at him. Perceptive, that was one of Sarah's best traits. Almost seeing through people, how they were feeling, and at the moment, when they were hiding something. It was clear to her that her and Mantha hadn't been told the whole truth about something. Having no idea what it was though, she was at an empass. The way Sam met her gaze with unwavering instensity, when his eyes said he wanted to look away, was enough for her.
"You two are hiding something," she said softly.
"What makes you say that?" Sam asked.
"Here's what I know. You two shared a moment, however brief it was. And now, my sister isn't human. That ticks me off," she looked at them both, a long glare seperated by a blink. "Samantha may be the confrontational one, but if you think we're going to continue with you one more step without knowing what's going on, you've got another thing coming."
Sam frowned, "We know as much as you do."
"See..." Sarah said, tilting her head, "I'm not sure that's completely true either. Something here isn't adding up."
Dean cast a glance to Sam before rising, "You can't just trust that we know what we're doing?"
"No."
Samantha had entered from the bathroom, drying her hair with a towel. She'd changed into a yellow blouse, lace like fringe clinging at her chest and waist. Jeans draped over her thighs and calfs and she had completey washed away all traces of blood. Her skin was red at her neck and in her cheeks from the heat of the water and Sam found his gaze lingering far too long. After a moment, he turned away. She was clean now, and that had to feel better. The cuts, though, and the brand stuck out against her pale flesh even as she glanced to the men. They hadn't even heard the door open. Dean shut the computer slowly as her gaze was on Sam.
"No we don't have to trust jack shit. And quite frankly, I'm so beyond done. As soon as morning hits, you're taking us back to my car, and we're out of here."
"We have to follow your vi-" Sam began, but she inturrupted him, tossing the towel to the floor.
"We don't have to follow shit! You wanna go, fine. I'll give you the god damned coordinates," she gestured with her arms to the computer. "But Sarah and I are going our seperate ways and getting the relaxing vacation we asked for when we left our shitty jobs!"
"You can't just leave. This isn't finished," Dean spoke then, and Samantha whirled on him. Sarah rose, raising a hand toward her to stop her. A sharp look from her sister made her lower the hand. It had been a long time since she'd seen her this angry. There was no stopping this tirade and she knew it. Best to let her vent and get it out now, or she'd hold it in and they'd all suffer for it later.
"This is SO finished, you half witted son of a bitch! We didn't ask to be hounded across the earth. We didn't ask to be shoved with the two of you!" She approached him and jabbed a finger into his chest. It would have been comical to him if her eyes hadn't been full of so much rage. "We didn't asked to be beated and scarred, weakened. And I sure as fuck didn't ask for whatever the hell this is!" She waved the branded arm in the air. Shoving Dean away, she moved to the door and opened it. Without looking back, she spoke through clenched teeth, "Angels be damned. We're not a part of this. We make our own destiny." And she slammed the door behind her.
Sarah moved to follow and Dean reached a hand out to stop her. A hesitation, just a second as she relished the feel of his hand on her, before she shrugged from his grip, "I'm going after her."
"Let Sammy go."
Her brows raised, "How about no."
"Seriously, Sarah. Let him go after her."
Sam was already out of the door before Sarah had a chance to speak. Secretely she blamed Dean for her part in this. That she hadn't been there to stop it from happening. Crossing her arms over her chest, she side stepped him and moved to the window to look out. She watched Sam approach her sister and Mantha dutifully ignore him. Shaking her head, smirking, she turned back to Dean.
"She's right, you know. As soon as morning hits, we're out of here."
"I can't let you do that."
A half laugh escaped her, "You can't stop us."
"Watch me."
Her eyes narrowed on him and she took a step forward.
"If you think you can keep us with the two of you against our will, you've got another thing coming."
"This is so much bigger than the four of us. We have to stick together."
"You don't even believe in angels, Dean. Now suddenly you're willing to follow one?"
"Two..."
"Excuse me?"
He shifted, clearly not liking where the conversation was heading, and rubbed his neck.
"Two angels. Another came forward when Sam and I were outside."
"And said what?"
"I can't say."
Sarah's own teeth were clenched now and she took another step forward, "Look. I get that you two hunt, really I do. I even understand the protective attitude. But how many times did you two tell each other that you can't save everyone?" His answering look made her grin. It ground his beans that she knew almost as much about him as his own brother. "Yeah, that was in there, too. Well you can't save us, you got that? Samantha is right! We make our own destiny, Dean."
The steps were slow as he moved to her. Something had changed in his eyes during her tirade, and Sarah's widened. Oddly, the air of the room changed. They weren't just talking about the shitty situation anymore, "You're right. We do. We make our own choices. Our own decisions." Somehow, he'd manuevered her between him and the door, "What decision will you make, Sarah?"
When had it happened, she wondered. He was a playboy, a womanizer. The books had said so and everything she'd experienced with him up to that point only furthered that stereotype. It didn't erase it, though. The unnatural attraction, the chemistry between them. They were nothing alike. In fact, she was more like his brother in behavior than she was him. Still...with his lips a breath from hers, she couldn't help the tingling anticipation in her stomach. Blinking, she stared at him, and wanted to swear at how her lips trembled for his kiss. Reaching up, she gripped his shirt in her fist.
"One that I'm probably going to regret in the morning."
The sound of the lock was an echo in her ears as Dean switched the bolt. They'd have privacy for however long it took for Samantha and Sam to duke it out outside. Which, knowing her sister, would be a hot minute. That woman could hold a grudge, and was stubborn as hell. All thought fled her mind when Deans lips took hers. His lips took her mouth quickly, one hand reaching up to tangle in her hair, the other slipping behind her and under her shirt. Warm calloused flesh rubbed over the soft skin of her back and she strained into him. Devestating, was a fleeting thought in her mind, as his kiss obliterated her senses. Like wading through a storm of emotion, he held her against him and demanded whatever sweetness he could find from her mouth. Hard and searching his tongue probed open her lips until she was left weak and wanting.
Sagging against the door, she grasped the other hand up to grip beside her other in his shirt. If she didn't hold tight, she'd fall. Legs having gone to jelly, she moaned into his mouth. Fast, it was so rapid, and his hand was out of her hair to reach for the bottom of her shirt. Gripping it in his hands, he moved it aside to rub his hands across her stomach. Still, his lips never left hers. Her body hummed against his caress and she felt the slow build of want at her core, crying out to him as he danced fingertips over her flesh. When he reached the fabric cups of her bra, and pulled one up placing his full palm on her breast, she found her senses. It was as if the shock of touch, of desire, electrocuted her brain into remembering. Remembering herself, and who he was. Roughly, she pulled away from his lips. She should tell him to stop, that this was too fast. When his head and lips descended to her neck, though, the words wouldn't come. His fingers found the bud of flesh he desired beneath the fabric and began to pluck and pinch. Deliciously, she arched her back toward him, cradling the base of his neck in her hands. When had she moved? Gasping, she blinked, deliberately moving her hands to his chest again. She had to stop this now, before it was too late. Shoving him, he moved quickly, and away.
Her face was rosey with desire, and she rapidly pulled her shirt back down, adjusting her bra back to it's proper place. Glancing to him she saw the confusion, but more so the dark haze of desire, in his eyes. They stared at eachother for a long minute, both their lips swollen from the feverish heat of the kiss. When he made to move forward, to take her again, she held up a hand stopping him. The other on her chest as she caught her breath. When she was sure she could speak without her voice trembling, she nodded with the words.
"That's enough."
There was no conviction behind the words, and Dean knew it. The way his eyes lit with amusement and he crossed his arms over his chest.
"For now."
"No," she shook her head, "I'm not going to sleep with you. You can get that out of your head right now. I'm not-"
"Not attracted to me? That's crap and you know it. You felt that as much as I did. And you're not about to lie to me and try to take that back now."
She nodded slowly as he retreated to his bag. Reaching down, he began to dig through it, seeking a change of clothes as well. When he'd retrieved a shirt and pants, and blatantly found a pair of boxers, he rose. Giving her a long heated look that she felt clear to her toes, he smirked again. Damn him.
"I'll be in the shower, Sarah. You may want to take a cold one when I finish."
When he had the door shut and locked behind him, she turned and unlocked the door to the hotel. With this done, she moved to the bed and all but collapsed as her weak knees could no longer hold her weight. Leaning forward she held her head in her hands.
"I am in so far over my head..."
000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000
"Samantha, wait!"
Rage spurned her forward. Reaching into her pocket, she grasped a few coins as she came to the large vending machine. Glancing to them, she counted and nodded her head before inserting them into the slot of the machine. He'd caught up to her, she could feel him behind her. Fighting the shiver, as the night had chilled and her hair was wet, she ignored his presence.
"You two can't leave."
Pressing the button on the machine, she sighed when the pepsi fell and she stooped to pick it up. Plucking the tab, she brought it to her lips and tipped it back taking a deep swig. Nodding, she turned to continue on her walk. Sams hand on her arm stopped her. Only for a moment, long enough to turn and glare at him.
"Take. Your hand. Off of me."
Okay, he thought, and released her. Mantha was stubborn as a mule and spit fire like a dragon. He would have to tread carefully here. As she continued to move away, he followed behind her. Mantha walked towards the road, cursing herself that in her haste to leave the motel room, she'd not brought a jacket. It was damn cold. Sipping the pop in her hand she leaned against the wall of the building, staring up at the sky. Sighing deeply again, she tried not to think. Even for just a second, she didn't want to think. When Sam sidled beside her and followed her movement of leaning against the building she said nothing. Oddly, it was comforting to have him there, though she'd have preffered to be alone. Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the smokes and withdrew one from the pack. Pressing it to her lips, she lit it with her zippo and replaced the pack in her pocket. Taking a long drag she closed her eyes with the pleasure of it, before releasing the smoke.
"We're not going with you, Winchester," she managed after a long moment.
He didn't respond for a second, and she glanced to him. His eyes were on the sky, and he was thinking. When he finally looked to her, though, something unreadable was in his gaze.
"They won't stop, you know. Even if you take off. You'll get another, and another."
"Remind me to thank you for that later."
Taking another drag, she shook her head, "So what, I'm psychic now?"
"Not exactly..."
Her eyes found his again, though hers were narrowed with annoyance.
"What do you mean, not exactly. What am I?"
"I...uhm..."
"Sam. What am I?"
"An oracle."
They whirled to the sound of the voice. Nora stood, her eyes patient and understanding. It was enough to send Samantha over the edge. Holding up the hand with the smoke in it, she basically told the angel to wait. Taking a deep drag from the smoke, she held it in, and then blew it out.
"Okay. One, Stop doing that!" She planted her feet, staring her down, "And two, I'm a what?!"
"An oracle. A diety who recieves prophetic predictions or precognition of the future, inspired by God."
"Wait...diety...as in...not human?"
"You are now part of the divine. That is correct. Angel blood is in your veins."
Samantha huffed out a shocked breath and stared at the ground with wide eyes. Shaking her head, she glanced to her again.
"How?"
"When you were a child, it was given to you. The memory will return in due time. For now, we only wish you to follow the visions from the Heavenly Father."
"Well then, sister, someone tapped your frequency, because that was not a vision from God."
"You assume God speaks to you directly. Angels communicate to you, not our Father. The message comes from him, the delivery from us."
"Okay, then if the vision was from an angel, explain the fucking brand in my arm."
"I cannot."
"You-" Samantha grated out, dropping the smoke and stamping it out, "You don't know?"
"We are not in charge of what you see. Only that you are protected."
The run around was starting to piss her off again, and she turned to glance to Sam, "Handle the princess, before I wring her neck."
Sam stepped forward, around Mantha and addressed Nora.
"What's the point? Of the visions?"
"We show her what needs to be stopped. What needs to be prevented. From what I understand, the vision that was sent to her at this time was intercepted."
"By who?" Sam asked, confused.
"Lucifer."
"Wait...Lucifer as in...the devil?"
"He has many names."
Sam nervously ran his hands through his hair. "Lucifer branded her with that mark. Why?"
"We do not yet know. It is imperative you do not go to the location he gave you. But another vision will come. Many, in fact. They can come at any time, in any way. She may touch something, see something, or they may come with no warning at all. But they are all necessary for the devine mission. The four of you, your compliance is essential."
"You know what works better than visions that split my skull?" Samantha interrupted, after taking a deep pull of her pop. "Words. That'd be awesome."
"We cannot do that at this time."
"Why the hell not?"
"Angels. We have vessels. People that will hold us. They are being slaughtered."
The two were quiet for a moment.
"How did I get it? I mean...you said I had the blood since I was a kid. How come it suddenly works now?"
"Sam Winchester."
The glare she turned on him was enough. He shrugged, his eyes apologetic. As if to say, 'I didn't know.' When she turned to Nora again, she was gone. Samantha threw her hands into the air.
"Freaking angels."