"So like, always always?" Following Skye out to the street via a maintenance building connected to the sewer tunnels, Sam hurried to catch up to her, walking sideways to look at her while he spoke, "That's a little...unusual."

"Gee, really? You fuckin' think so?" Hands in the pockets of her jacket, Skye quickly caught up to Dean. He'd gone ahead to make sure the coast was clear, as it were, and now stood in the middle of the alley waiting for the two of them. Stopping to look up at Sam, she tried to focus on what she was saying instead of her warm breath pluming out around her in the frigid air, briefly picturing herself like one of those old school cartoons with steam streaming out their ears when they got angry, "That's exactly what the doctors said when I told them. You know what that got me? A diagnosis of paranoid schizophrenia and months of being pumped full of drugs with horrible side effects and told I'm crazy. Twice. It's kind of a sore subject."

"You sure you're not maybe bein' a little over sensitive, considering the circumstances?" Reaching down to pull Skye closer, Dean buttoned up her jacket, ignoring the death glare that earned him, "That's not exactly what you were in for."

"Of course I'm being over sensitive at the moment, but I don't really have any control over that right now and I'm not really sorry about taking it out on Sam either 'cause he can seriously bite me right now." Swatting Dean's hands away, Skye finished buttoning her own damn jacket, "And I swear to God, if you don't quit fussin' over me like I am a goddamn child, I am goin' to turn into the biggest pain in the ass you have ever met."

"Newsflash, baby." Looking down at her, Dean smiled, flipping the end of her braid against her nose, "You already are."

"I'm sorry if I touched a sore spot, Skye, I didn't know." Rubbing his forehead with the heel of his hand, Sam looked so done with all of this. Course he didn't really have the right to bitch about Skye's current attitude problem, now did he, "Alright, I guess we should find a phone, call the cops."

"You're gonna put out an APB on Dean? Really?" Buttoning up her jacket, Skye closed her eyes and took a deep breath of the cold night air, willing her head to clear but knowing it'd be another hour or two before she was mostly back to normal, "You're on a roll with the bad ideas, aren't you, Sam."

"Right." A tight smile on his lips, Sam was kind of starting to look like a kicked puppy, "Sorry."

"Go easy on Sam. You're gonna have to forgive him sooner or later." They really didn't need to be bickering right now. Tucking her hand in his, Dean lead the way through the alley, heading in the general direction of Rebecca's, "I mean, come on Skye, he's not responsible for your ...medical history."

"Probably, but I think I'm allowed to be a little put out in the meantime." Giving Sam a long look that said it was likely going to be awhile before 'probably' happened, Skye eventually turned her attention to Dean, taking a few seconds too long to process what he'd said. Stopping, she tugged her hand from of Dean's grip, taking a couple steps back to look up at the both of them, "You think that's why I'm upset? Really? Because he's the one that found out I'm a freak of nature? Seriously? That's retarded, he was just the messenger and I'm not in the habit of shooting those."

Taking half a step closer to her, Sam gestured vaguely with his hands still in his pockets, looking as apologetic as he could manage at the moment, "Then what?"

"Samuel William Winchester, oh my fucking God." Arms crossed over her chest, she ignored the occasional look from passerby walking by the mouth of the alley, really not caring if half the block heard her, "You were willing to kill me three weeks ago. I trusted you and you would have slit my throat in my sleep. I'm supposed to just get over that? Fuckin' seriously 'cause no. Now, don't we have a killer to track down and a girl to save because this bullshit conversation is goin' nowhere."

Exchanging a look with his brother, Dean shrugged. Wasn't like he could do anything to fix it, Sam and Skye were going to have to do that. He had his own relationship issues to take care of.

Falling into step beside Skye, Sam went for a charming smile and puppy dog eyes, "...okay, that's fair, but it was only for like a day."

"Get fucked."

They'd made it halfway to Rebecca's, covering three miles in less than half an hour when Sam caught their attention from where he'd been walking a few yards ahead of them, nodding to a display of TVs in the window of an electronics store, "Guys."

Skye and Dean joined him in time to see the balding African American anchorman lead into a story none of them wanted to hear.

'An anonymous tip led police to a home in the central west end, where a S.W.A.T. team discovered a local woman bound and gagged.' A black and white sketch of Dean appeared, taking up half the screen, the words Wanted For Attempted Murder flashing below it. 'Her attacker, a white male of approximately 24 to 30 years of age, was discovered hiding in the home. Shots were fired. Police are saying the subject fled the scene on foot. He may be armed and is considered extremely dangerous. Anyone who recognizes this man should not attempt to approach him but should contact authorities.'

"Man, that's not even a good picture." Dean sounded more offended than upset that the local news was flashing his face for attempted murder.

"It's good enough, Dean." Taking a quick look around to make sure no one close to them had ID'd Dean, Sam herded them into the closest alley.

"Freakshow had to have made the call himself. He wants Dean hunted." Rubbing her temple, Skye shook her head to clear it, the headache lurking behind her eyes threatening to flare up. It had been a long day and she was more than ready for it to be over. She didn't even bother to protest when Dean tucked her against his side. It was cold, he was warm, it wasn't worth the fight, "I'll flip a coin over who gets to shoot him."

"They said attempted murder." Placing himself between Dean and the mouth of the alley behind them, Sam blocked the view of anyone that might wander by, though there were fewer and fewer people on the streets at this hour, "At least we know-"

"That I didn't kill her."

"It wouldn't have been you regardless. Just 'cause freakshow is wearin' your pretty face don't make him you so don't you go and feel guilty about some bullshit you had no control over." Leaning against his side with her eyes closed, Skye didn't bother to look up at Dean when she spoke, "You're prone to that sorta thing, you know."

"She's not wrong." Nodding toward the far end of the alley, still heading in the general direction of Rebecca's, Sam silently suggested the three of them get moving again, "I'll check in with Rebecca in the morning to see if she's alright."

Reaching out to grab the collar of Skye's denim jacket, Dean hauled her sideways, pulling her out of the way of the half-frozen puddle she'd been about to step in, "First I wanna find that handsome devil and kick the holy shit out of him."

"Dean, we have no weapons. No silver bullets." Grabbing Dean's shoulder, Sam brought him up short, making sure he had his full attention, "We don't have a way to take him down."

"Sam, the guy's walkin' around with my face." Lowering his voice, Dean glanced at where Skye had stopped a few yards away, the look of exhaustion and the tight pain lines around her eyes spurring a brief flash of cold rage, "He drugged Skye and threatened to rape and murder her while wearing me. It's a little personal."

Looking over at the young woman in question, Sam had to admit that was a pretty damn good reason to make it personal. Come to think of it, he wouldn't mind taking a few pieces out of the Shifter himself, "Okay… Where do we look?"

Whistling to catch Skye's attention, Dean held out a hand for her when she rejoined them, "I'm gonna take a shot and say the sewers."

"We have no weapons, though. That's still a problem."

"If I don't get my gun back, I'm gonna do a lot worse to that motherless whore than shoot him." Honestly, Skye was probably more pissed about that than she was about being drugged and threatened. She liked that gun. It was hers, specially modified specifically for her, and damned if she was just going to let that go, "He will wish he'd killed me when he had the chance."

"Big words, Terminator Barbie." The amusement in Dean's eyes didn't quite smother the anger that still burned there, "Someday you might be something that almost approaches scary."

"And someday you might not be a dick." The words didn't have much sting to them, considering she was voluntarily leaning back against him so he could wrap his arms around her, "...but alas, that day is not today."

"You're cranky when you're high." Wincing, Dean sucked in a breath, hissing when she put her cold hands under his shirt, "...I may have deserved that."

"Find me a joint and I'll prove you wrong." A tired smirk on her lips, Skye removed her hands and tucked them in the pockets of her jacket, tilting her head to look up at him, "Yeah you fuckin' did."

"Guys?" Reluctantly Sam interrupted the few seconds of normalcy that had popped up out of nowhere, "The car?"

"It's pretty likely he drove it to Rebecca's." Grudgingly, Skye had to admit she hadn't even considered the car, and from the looks of it Dean hadn't either, "Why walk when you have a badass car at your disposal?"

"The news said he fled on foot, I bet it's still parked there." Hands clenching at his sides, Dean's jaw twitched and he made a sound that Skye would have sworn was a growl, "...the thought of him drivin' my car."

Well that was kind of really hot. Clearing her throat, Skye pressed her lips firmly together, trying to get a handle on her impulse control and mostly succeeding. Didn't stop the blush that crept up her neck and turned the tips of her ears red, but that wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been. Proof the drug was fading from her system.

Surprised at the sudden and intense sweet smell in the air around her, Dean blinked and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to steady himself as it threatened to set his head spinning. How he'd never put that and her reactions to things together before Sam had spelled it out for him, Dean would never know. Maybe he really was a dumbass. Or okay maybe he had a bit of a blind spot where some things were concerned... A hand on her shoulder, he turned Skye around to face him, looking at her questioningly, "...Tink, you okay?"

Refusing to meet his eyes, Skye couldn't keep the corners of her lips from twitching, "I'm fine, Winchester, thanks for asking."

"Uh-huh." It didn't take a genius to interpret that look. Slipping his arm around her waist, Dean pulled her close enough to murmur into her ear, "Then what the hell was that?"

Rolling his eyes, Sam got the hint and took a few steps back, turning his back on the two of them to give them some remote possibility of privacy. Laughable considering they were in a cold, damp alley in the middle of St. Louis at like two in the morning, but it was a thoughtful gesture.

Dammit. She'd been hoping he wouldn't notice or would let it pass, but of course that wasn't going to happen. She must be...smelling. Or whatever. Exuding? That sounded terrible. Emanating? Issuing? Fuck it. She was leaking, that's what she was doing. Looking up at him through her lashes, a half-smile forcing its way onto her lips no matter how hard she tried to suppress it, "That was me not climbing you like a tree."

The laughter that startled out of Dean was enough to bring Sam back, looking annoyed as he hushed his brother. They didn't really need to be drawing attention to themselves right now and the large laughing man in the middle of the alley might get a look or two, "Dude, seriously."

"So glad you're amused." Arms crossed, she watched him with a look that wavered somewhere in between aggravation and tolerant affection. He had a way of laughing with his whole body when he found something genuinely funny that was adorably endearing and she couldn't really get mad about it, "Are you done? It's not like it was a state secret."

"Well, I mean…" Wiping his eyes with the heel of his hand, Dean caught his breath. Oh, he probably shouldn't have done that, but it had just caught him off guard, "You know, usually I'd be real happy about that and more than willing, but you are under the influence so it's gonna have to wait 'till you're not impaired anymore. ...about how long you think that's gonna be?"

"Guys?" Interrupting again, Sam tried to get them to focus on more pressing matters, ignoring the dirty looks that earned him from Skye, "The car?"

That shook something loose in her mangled brain, jerking her attention away from Dean's response, "The car...won't it be guarded? If it hasn't been towed to the police impound. There's no way they're gonna put out an APB on Dean and not have the car under some kind of surveillance."

"Yeah, probably, but we'll burn that bridge when we come to it." Taking a few steps back, Dean surveyed the area around them, taking a look at all the buildings lining the dimly lit alley. Skye was in no condition to run from cops or break into an impound lot, and he was about to piss her off by pointing that out. Taking her hand in his, he headed down the alley toward what looked to have once been an antique shop. At any rate, it was run down and there were no outside cameras. With an apologetic smile, Dean unwound the hair tie from the end of Skye's braid, "I ever tell you this was a damn good idea."

"You know, I don't think that's how that saying goes." Reaching up to shake out her hair before twisting it up into a knot, Skye watched Dean strip the cloth from the thin flexible wire inside of it before motioning for her to stay with Sam, "Could have asked before you too it...and thank you."

"Sorry. Can I borrow your hair thing?" How such a charming smile could be so infuriating was a mystery to Skye but somehow Dean managed quite nicely, "I'll be right back. Stay put."

"You're-you're really not arguing?" The skepticism was a little insulting, if you thought about it, "Gotta say, that's kind of a shocker."

"I'm not arguing, Dean. I agree with your reasoning. I am a liability right now." Well, she was kind of a liability at the best of times, now just even more so. Standing in the corner of a room on the second floor of the abandoned building Dean had broken into, Skye tried to ignore the press of the darkness around her, the pale light from the street outside not reaching much past the windows, "I disagree with you goin' back to the car at all right now. It's stupid and you're gonna get arrested and then I'm gonna have to spring you and Sam from jail."

"You're probably not wrong." Unfolding a blanket he'd raided from the dry cleaner on the corner, Dean wrapped the thick comforter around her shoulders before reaching into his back pocket and producing a flashlight, "I am glad to know you'd break me out, though. That's sweet. Don't use the flashlight if you don't have to."

Sticking it in the back pocket of her jeans, she smirked, "Oh I'd spring you, but not until after some five-foot-ten bodybuilder named Chet makes you his bitch."

"As long as he likes to cuddle." Dropping a kiss on her forehead, he gave her one last look before heading back out to where Sam was on the first floor, "I'll be right back."

"Horror movie rules, Winchester." Watching him disappear into the shadows, Skye settled down in the darkest corner to wait, the last part of her thought spoken to the empty room, "...never say 'I'll be right back.'"