I'm sorry this took so damn long. This chapter kicked my ass and I know it isn't my best. Ugh. Writer's block is confusing.
"They know just where to go when they need their lovin', man."
The coffee in his hand is the worst coffee Dean's probably ever drank in his life. He'd gotten it from a shitty little gas station about fifty paces from the motel and it tastes like it's been sitting in the machine since February. But it's strong and that's all that matters because he's running on five hours of sleep. For the last three days. Dean holds his amazingly awesome looking chocolate glazed doughnut in his mouth and rifles through his pockets until he finds the motel room key. As he's unlocking the door, he hears quiet little laughs coming from inside the room and the sound has his hand clenching around his coffee.
"No!" he hears Bella say. "Do it right!"
"How am I saying it wrong?" Dean hears his brother ask.
"It's mi chiamo Sam. Mee-key-ahh-moe. Now try it again."
"Mi chiamo Sam. E tu?"
"Mi chiamo Bella," Dean hears her say. "Piacere."
"Piacere."
Someone starts to clap and Dean makes an jealous noise. C'mon, Sam. What are you doing with Bella? She's not his. Of course, she isn't necessarily Dean's either, but he sometimes feels like she is. He immediately scolds himself. Like c'mon, Winchester. It's not like Bella is your fucking girlfriend. So why do you care if she's talking to your brother instead of kissing you so deeply and thoroughly that you feel it buzzing in your veins for the rest of the day? (Wait, what? Are we really back to this?)
"How was that?" asks Sam.
"Mmm, better," Bella says in that voice that's just dancing on the edge of seductive. "Much better."
"Would you say I was molto bene?"
"All right, now you're just showing off."
"Am not."
She snorts. "Solo un po."
"Just a little bit?" Sam says.
"Just a little bit," there's a bit of shuffling from Bella's end, "Okay Sam. From the top."
"Ciao," Sam says.
"Ciao. Come ti chiami?"
"Mi chiamo Sam. E tu?"
"Mi chiamo Bella. Piacere."
"Piacere. Di dove sei?"
"Sono di Italia. E tu?"
"Sono di Kansas. Uh, qual è il tuo colore preferito?"
Dean hears Bella laugh again. He wants to burst in there and stop everything that they're doing. Is she falling for Sam? Is Sam wanting her? Jesus, he hates this. This feeling of weird insecurity over Sam stealing Bella away from him is fucking him the hell up. Dean never gets insecure about chicks, damn it!
"Bene! Il mio colore preferito è viola. E tu?"
"Rosso."
"Ah," Bella says. "Il rosso è un colore bello."
"Sei bella," Sam says.
Now that he understands. Dean lets out an irritated growl and unlocks the door, pushing it open just in time to watch as Bella pushes Sam's shoulder and then they both dissolve into identical fits of laughter.
"I got breakfast," he says grouchily. "If you guys are done makin' out."
"Lui è geloso," croons Sam under his breath.
Bella grins at him, picking up her own chocolate doughnut. She sips at her coffee and makes a face at it before looking at Dean.
"I was just teaching your brother some of the basics. We weren't kissing. He doesn't know enough Italian to properly woo me yet."
"I can woo you in French," says Sam stubbornly.
"It's not the same though, is it?" muses Bella, nibbling the corner of her doughnut.
Dean watches with his own doughnut halfway to his mouth as Sam and Bella share this look between them that Dean can't decipher. He can't decide if it's just a friendly look or something else and it annoys the hell out of him.
"I'm going to go shower," Sam says eventually.
"Have fun, Sam!" Bella says and Dean wants to punch his baby brother on the nose.
The room is silent as Sam shuts the bathroom door. Dean is still grumpy at the both of them. Bella is uninterested in his plight as she jumps up onto the counter with a cup of coffee in her hand and the half eaten doughnut in the other. Dean feels strangely hurt. She can't have a thing for Sam. Not after Dean. Right? I mean, no one's ever picked Sam over Dean. And he's not being cocky, it's just how it's always been. But then, Sam is smart. And Bella is smart. Sam is understanding. And Bella is too- in her own way. They're both more similar than Bella and Dean are. Bella and Sam makes more sense. So maybe, naturally, they'd just... No. Fuck no, he's not letting it happen. Dean'd rather do another stint in Hell than see his brother get his grubby moose paws all over Bella. He sets his mouth in a hard line and strides over to her, standing in between her thighs.
"Yes?" she asks, her mouth full of food.
Dean decides to get right to the point.
"Do you want him?"
"Who?" says Bella, swallowing. "Sam?"
"Who else?"
"Why does it matter to you? It's not like we're dating or anything."
"No, but-"
"But what? You get to hook up and I can't? We're just having sex Dean, not getting hitched. And we weren't even flirting. He wants to learn Italian."
"He called you 'beautiful'," Dean snaps.
"Then he knows a pretty girl when he sees one!" she says sharply.
"How many people have you hooked up with since Christmas, Bella?"
She gives him a hard look. "I don't think that's any of your business. Is it, Winchester? And on top of that, let me ask you the same thing. How many people have you hooked up with since Christmas?"
Dean shifts on his feet. "You want the truth?"
"I'm going to guess somewhere in the mid-twenties. Is that in the ballpark?"
He shrugs. "Sixteen-ish."
She makes this disgusted noise in the back of her throat and Dean scowls.
"So? What about you then? Gotta be in the high thirties, at least."
"Nine," Bella says darkly. "God, you're such an ass. What's with the double standard, huh?"
"Why does your next conquest have to be my brother, Bella?"
"He's not my next conquest, for fuck's sake. Why do you even care?"
"Because," Dean says lowly. "I can be so much better than him. And you know it too, don't ya?"
He runs a finger down her cheek and watches as Bella's fingers tighten around her coffee. Dean grins knowingly. Yeah, she can't resist him.
"Don't I make you feel good, baby?" he purrs. "Call you beautiful when I fuck you? Tell you how pretty you are, how good you feel? Don't I always take care of my girl?"
"I'm not 'your girl', Winchester," Bella says firmly.
He steps closer still, running his hand up her bare thigh and, grinning at the way her breath hitches the slightest amount, pushes up the Metallica t-shirt he had let her borrow last night after they'd crashed in a motel room. Bella pushes her hair behind her ears. It's up on top of her head in one of those buns that take girls two seconds to do, strands of colored curls escaping and framing her face. Her green eyes are bare of their usual black and she's not wearing any lipstick. And motherfucker, she's just so damn pretty. It drives Dean absolutely nuts.
"You're not?" Dean feigns hurt. "Cuz I thought you were. I mean, I am the only guy who knows what makes you tick, right?"
"Just because you know how to get me off doesn't mean I'm your 'property' or whatever. I'm a person, Dean. Not something to win like a prize at a carnival."
"I know that," he replies, stung.
"You can't act like a jealous boyfriend if all we are doing is fucking," says Bella with a tone of finality. "And that's it."
Ouch. Is that all he is to her? A hookup? A friend with benefits? Even after he's practically carved out his goddamn soul and offered it to her on a goddamn plate? Oh, that actually hurts.
"Well, tell me about yourself then," Dean challenges.
"You don't care. Not really. You're just trying to get in between my legs. Trying to prove a point."
Okay, yeah, he is definitely trying to do that right now. Dean won't deny it. But he likes Bella. A lot. A whole fucking lot and he's offended that she thinks so little of him. He steps back from her and sets his hands down at his sides. He blinks at her, waiting for something. Whatever it is, Dean isn't sure, but whatever it is, it'll come around eventually. She'll come around eventually. She always does. She's just as drawn to Dean as Dean is to her. It's the natural order of the universe. Bella sips her coffee and then sets the cup down on the counter. She sighs, looking away from Dean's stern face. His jaw clenches and Bella takes the hair tie around her wrist and lifts it up, snapping it against her skin. She does it again and again. Her eyebrows are furrowed. Her wrist is slowly turning pink and her hand clenches. She moves it towards her bare leg and Dean, somehow knowing what she is about to do, grabs her hand before she can dig her nails into her thigh. Bella finally looks up at him. She sighs again.
"I hurt my first love, Dean. Tried to kill her."
He snorts. "Stop fuckin' with me."
Bella shakes her head, tears welling up in those beautiful eyes.
"Cara and her dad were hunters and just wanted me to get to my coven. I found her notes and confronted her. She attacked me and I lit the knife in her hand on fire. But I was upset and young and I just- lost control. The doctors had to use skin grafts to make her look okay again."
"You actually burned her?" says Dean quietly.
"Yes."
"How?"
"You saw it. If I lose control, so do the flames."
"Show me," Dean says. "Like you showed Sam."
Bella shakes her head. "No."
Dean walks between her thighs again. He stares her straight in the eyes to show that, yes, he's so fucking serious. Seeing Sam in awe of Bella and her fire awoke something in Dean. He is so stupidly, insanely jealous that Sam was the first to feel the flames from Bella's fingers climb up his hand. It was such an oddly intimate thing that she had shared with his younger brother before she had shared it with him. He briefly has to wonder if it's because his reputation regarding his treatment of witches precedes him.
"Show me," Dean repeats.
"You'll want to kill me when you see it."
He pinches his eyes closed and rubs his hand over his face in frustration. Just when he thought they had been over and done with this, she brings it back up. The first time they met, he didn't mean all the things he said about wanting her dead. If anything, it was a weird form of foreplay. If he thinks hard enough about it, Dean wanted her the very second he laid on eyes on her, monster or not. She is just so effortlessly bad-ass and whip smart without even really trying. He thinks she has him held tight by the balls with how sappy his brain gets when he's around her.
"Is that seriously your only impression of me?" he says.
"Anything that's different scares you. You like normal. Anything beyond those limits freak you out. Can't say I blame you though," Bella shrugs. "I hear I'm dangerous."
Dean cups her face in his palms.
"Show me. You won't hurt me, will you?"
"I could never."
"Then show me."
She stares at him, tilting her head as though trying to x-ray his brain. Dean straightens up, letting her read his energy or whatever the hell it is that she is doing with such fierce concentration. Eventually, Bella agrees.
"All right."
Her eyes close and she exhales deeply. After about fifteen seconds, Bella flickers her fingers on her left hand and all five of the tips burst into flames. She opens her eyes again and Dean notices that they're now a deep purple.
"Your eyes changed colors," he says.
She nods. "Happens sometimes."
He grabs her hand and holds it in his own, never breaking eye contact. She tries to pull her fiery fingers away from him, but Dean is stubborn and shakes his head.
"Do more. Like you did with Sam."
More than she did with Sam. So much more.
"Dean-"
"Please?"
Bella sighs. "Fine. But so help you, if you even reach for a gun..."
She squeezes her fingers around Dean's and the flames travel up the back of her hand, licking at her palm, and carefully settling around Dean's hand. He winches a little, waiting for it to hurt. But no pain comes. It soaks into his skin and makes him feel warm all the way down to his toes. It's like he had just drank a shot of the most expensive whiskey in the world. It's the warmth and comfort he gets before the drink makes him drunk. It's just awesome and Dean is feeling nothing short of awe.
"Are you okay? Should I stop?" Bella says, unsure.
He shakes his head and taking his other hand, grabs her chin and pulls her up for a kiss. As soon as their lips meet, the warm feeling inside Dean sparks something to life and he groans, wanting Bella closer. Her free hand goes around Dean's neck and she pulls herself up so she's hovering with her ass partway off the counter. Sliding his right hand from her jaw down to the edge of her (his) (take that, Sam!) shirt, Dean places his fingers on one of her thighs and moves it upwards, under her tee, and settles at the bottom of her boob. He holds it in his palm, running his thumbnail along the bumps and curves and Bella makes that little purring noise. He wants to ask her if he's the only one who has ever brought that sound from her.
"Sei bella," Dean mutters into her mouth.
He feels her smile. "Grazie. Sei fantastico. Sei perfetto. Sei bello."
"All right, all right, you don't have to one up me."
She lets out a happy squeal when Dean plucks her from the counter effortlessly, forgetting for a moment that his hand is on fire. As he lets go of Bella's hand, the fire on his own fizzles out, leaving only a delicious heat behind. No blistering skin, no pain, nothing. And when Bella tugs on his hair, the flames don't singe his scalp. Even so, Dean doesn't take much time to think about it before Bella is tugging her (his) shirt over her head and he's distracted by her bare torso. He doesn't really understand Bella's penchant for never wanting to wear pants when she goes to sleep, but Dean isn't really complaining. It's so much easier to get at the parts he wants.
In the back of his desire filled haze, Dean hears something that sounds suspiciously like a doorknob. His suspicion is confirmed when Bella yelps in surprise, pushing him away from her and Dean pouts, his hands still trying to trace her frame. Quickly he realizes what's going on and Dean wraps his arms around Bella, shielding her from his brother's roving eyes.
"God Sam!" Bella cries.
"Me? You guys are the ones having sex in the kitchen!"
Dean scowls. "Way to kill a mood, Sammy."
Sam scoffs. "Fuck you. Jerk."
"Bitch."
"What?"
Bella looks confused and embarrassed- her cheeks are stained the prettiest shade of red. Almost the same color as the lipstick she likes so much. Tucking Bella behind him, Dean leans down and picks up (his) t-shirt. Dean hands it to her and she shrugs it on. He wants to whine as all that soft pretty skin is covered up. Damn it, Sam. Little brothers are cock-blocking sons o' bitches. Dean just fucking wants Sam to leave already and go do that nerdy shit that he does so well.
A knock on the motel room door has each person in the room straightening up to attention. Sam, with his long-ass hair still dripping wet, moves towards the door and places a finger on his lips. Dean reaches for his gun sitting on the table and after it's in his hand, he faces the door and without looking at her, pushes Bella behind him. He barely catches her tiny scoff of annoyance. She moves to stand next to him, but Dean gives her a fierce look and moves in front of her again, taking a fighting stance. He barely catches Bella's muttered "for fuck's sake, Winchester!" before Sam is peering through the peephole and Dean is releasing the safety on his gun.
"It's okay," Sam says from the corner of his mouth. "I'm gonna open the door."
He opens the door and a bouncing blonde woman stands there.
"Can I help you, lady?" says Sam.
She starts breathing quicker, squealing.
Sam looks concerned, giving Dean a confused eyebrow raise. Dean shrugs in reply, just as bewildered.
"Are you okay?" Sam asks the woman.
"SAM? I can't believe it's really you! Oh, you're so much taller than I'd thought you be," her voice drops lower, in an attempt to be alluring, "I like it."
Dean can almost hear the grin that Bella doesn't even try to hide and turns to give her an amused eyebrow raise.
"You're so firm!" the strange woman says.
Glancing back at Sam, Dean gets an eye full of his brother being felt up. Okaaaayyy, weird. Who is this chick?
"Do I-uh-know you?" says Sam uncomfortably.
"No. But I know you. You're Sam Winchester and-" she turns her gaze to Dean, who looks at her impassively, "Not who I thought you were," she finishes.
There's definitely a little laugh from Bella. Dean makes an indignant face, because, what the fuck? He thinks he's pretty great.
"Anyway, that isn't why I'm here," says the lady. "I'm Becky. Mr. Edlund-er-Chuck told me where you were. He has a message for you."
"Oh? What is it?"
"He had one of his 'premonitions', but he's being watched. Angels, he says. He had a vision and I directly quote, 'the Michael sword is on Earth. The angels lost it' end quote."
"Does he know where it is?" says Dean, rubbing his eyes.
"Mhm," nods Becky. "In a castle. On a hill made of forty-two dogs."
Dean thinks, mulling this over. Uh, yeah. Nope. No fucking clue what that means. Thank you, Chuck, for once again, being so damn helpful. He's so done with all this mysterious crap.
"Forty-two dogs?" Sam repeats. "Are you sure that's what he said, Becky? It makes no sense."
"I told you it was a direct quote. I memorized it. All for you, Sam!"
"Oh, um, thank you?"
"You're welcome," Becky says dreamily, her hand still on Sam's right pectoral.
"Can you quit touching me, please?"
She sighs happily. "No."
"Okay. Great," says Sam.
There's an awkward thirty seconds as this strange woman continues to feel up his brother. Dean almost feels bad for Sam. Almost. But then, he was pretty sure Sam was about to feel Bella up an hour ago. So any pity Dean has shoots right out the window and he kind of grins. Fuck, he wishes he had a camera or something right now. Send it in to one of those home video shows. Yeah, he'd make bank. Although it might not be worth the years of wrath and annoyance that Sam would surely strike down on his brother if Dean did such a thing. Ever so slowly, Sam peels himself away from Becky with a grimace.
"Thanks for stopping by," he says, shutting the door in her face.
"I'LL SEE YOU SOON, SAM! AND I'LL BRING YOU MARZIPAN!"
Sam makes a face just as Dean hears Bella make a noise of disgust.
"God, I hate marzipan. The texture is like clay. Ugh."
Sam sighs deeply. "I think I... need a six pack. You guys mind?"
Dean shakes his head eagerly. No, we definitely don't mind, Sam. Get your ass out that door!
"Go ahead, Sam," says Bella with a wide grin. "After that, you might even need something stronger than beer."
"A damn Everclear," Sam mutters and Bella laughs again.
Without another word, he has the Impala's keys in his hand and leaves the room. There's a loud silence as soon as the door closes behind him. Before Dean can even think to turn to look at Bella, he feels a small body press up against his back. He groans when a pair of sinfully sweet hands glide effortlessly under his shirt. Bella's fingers are a little cold. Dean loves it. She presses kisses to his clothed back as her hands blindly explore his torso.
"Dean," she coos sensually. "Have you been hiding that boner from me all this time? Now, how do you think it was for poor Sam to see that? Probably scarred him for life, hmm?"
He spins around, grabbing her behind the neck and pulling her against him. Bella smiles wickedly up at him as Dean begins to speak, punctuating every word with a little smack to her ass.
"I don't want to talk about my fuckin' brother right now," Dean growls.
She gives a little laugh and runs her nails over his chest.
"Oh, maschietto. Jealousy is a good look on you. I like you all...hmm, riled up like this."
"You'd never fuck Sam," Dean says in Bella's ear. "Not after me. I know you."
He presses a hard kiss to her lips, licking his way into her mouth. Breaking away from her, Dean gives her a devilish grin.
"I know what makes you purr."
Bella lets out a little surprised noise when Dean's hands reach down under her (his) shirt and gets two big handfuls of her bare ass.
"Got an ass on you like a peach or somethin'," he muses.
She looks confused. "What the fuck does that mean?"
"Round," Dean explains, his voice a little muffled as he trails kisses along her neck. "Firm. Just wanna sink your teeth into it."
Bella's eyes narrow.
"Is that supposed to be sexy or something? You want to eat a chunk of my butt?"
"Bells," Dean says patiently. "Women fall at my feet whenever I use that line."
"I have a hard time believing that because that is probably the creepiest thing I've ever heard. And remember, I've read the natural born satanic bible."
"So what I'm hearin' is that it's not workin' for you?"
"No. In fact, I'm terrified."
Bella squeals when Dean picks her up and throws her over his shoulder.
"Put me down!" she yelps, smacking his lower back.
"Nah. I like you like this," he says, giving her ass another little slap.
"I'm not a sack of potatoes!"
"Would you quit whinin'?"
He sets her down on the motel kitchen counter and glides his hands up her thighs, playing with the hem of her (his) shirt. She's scowling at him and Dean grins, bringing her hand up to his mouth. He kisses each finger one by one, then gives her other hand the same treatment. Her nails are a dark green today and Dean decides he likes it. A refreshing change from her usual black.
"Being all cute isn't going to change what you said," Bella says, nudging his jaw with her finger.
But she's now smiling up at him as she pulls him closer with her feet around his waist. Dean grins in return, curling his fingers around one of Bella's thighs and tugging her against him. He runs his nose down her cheek and waits until she turns her head just right before he kisses her. Dean nips on her bottom lip and waits for Bella to open her mouth. When she does, he gets a hint of residual chocolate and coffee flavors and groans a little, sucking the taste off her tongue. She makes her purring sound and wraps her arms around his neck, scratching her nails on the back of his head. They eventually break apart to take a breath and Bella's smiling up at him like Dean hung the stars that she likes so much. His heart clenches in that all too familiar way and he grins back at her.
"Has anybody ever told you that you have really lovely eyes?" asks Bella.
"Heard it once or twice, yeah. Anyone ever tell you that you could be in a centerfold?" Dean replies cheekily.
She laughs. "Heard it once or twice, yeah."
Dean kisses her forehead fondly and doesn't miss when her eyes flutter closes as soon as his lips touch her skin.
"You jealous still?" Bella asks, meeting his gaze again. "Even now that you got me tangled up in you?"
"If I say yes, will you kiss me again?"
"I'll kiss you regardless," she answers, pressing herself closer.
Dean leans in, his nose bumping hers.
"Go on," he urges. "I dare you."
"And what do I get if I do this oh so wild dare, huh?" says Bella, scratching her nails gently through Dean's hair.
"Uh, my utmost appreciation?" Dean tries.
She makes a face. "That's it?"
"Shut up," he says, kissing her again.
"Mm, you shut up," hums Bella against his mouth. "And take off your shirt."
"You first," Dean suggests, diving in to attack Bella's neck with small kisses.
She whines when his mouth passes over that one spot that drives her crazy. He grins, all devil-may-care, and turns all of his attention on that notch where her neck meets her collarbones. Starting gently, Dean just kisses it for a few seconds. Then he licks it. And when he gently sucks Bella's skin into his mouth and nips at it, she gasps and her head falls back against the wall with an unforgiving thump.
"Ow! Fuck me!" she yelps.
"Soon, baby. I gotcha, Bells."
"Oh, shut up! Shit, that fucking hurts! Cazzo! Figlio di puttana! Ugh!"
Dean's laughing at her.
"Lookit!" he croons. "Your head made an indent in the drywall!"
Bella looks behind her and runs her fingers over the dent. She swears again in Italian and looks back at Dean.
"I ain't payin' for that," he informs her, kissing her again.
"What? It wasn't my fault!" says Bella, scandalized.
"It was your head, sweetheart."
"Wow, okay. You can actually go away."
"Aw, c'mon. It was a joke!"
"Yes, because I cannot breathe for laughing," she whines. "My head hurts. Have some sympathy."
"Would an orgasm make it feel better?" asks Dean, his hand already snaking under her (his) t-shirt.
Bella's lips twitch.
"No."
"How about two?" he continues, his fingers finding their way up her thigh.
Dean gets half of a full blown Bella smile for that offer. But he wants the whole nine yards. The whole Bella-smiling-and-laughing-so-hard-that-her-face-might-split-in-half thing.
"Three?" he says.
And there. He's got her. Bella's smile is radiant and she nods and Dean forgets that the Devil now walks the Earth as he runs his fingers over Bella and she lets out a purr, mashing their lips together and Dean groans because she's so frickin' gorgeous when he has her like this and he wants to get her to scream but he isn't sure how much the other motel guests would appreciate that because Bella is so damn loud when she comes. But then Dean finds that he doesn't care and is moving his fingers inside her faster and kissing Bella harder and she's keening against him, needing more, more, more, and Dean's whispering filth and praises into her skin and she moans out from his words and his voice and she's almost there and Dean is waiting, waiting, waiting, for it because he gets off from this too and he's rutting against the counter, his sweatpants not giving him nearly enough friction and Bella's cries are louder and she's growing hotter, Dean can almost see her bursting into flames and...
"Dean? Dean?! DEAN!"
Their bubble explodes at the sound of a giant moose hoof banging on the door, leaving behind a very grumpy Dean and a whimpering Bella. She squirms and lets out a breathless little moan when Dean stops the movement of his fingers.
"Yeah?" he says.
"Bobby's here," Sam says from behind the motel room door.
"'Kay. Give us a minute."
He looks up at Bella, who has angry tears running down her face. Dean feels guilty and he tells her so with a soft kiss to her forehead. Bella leans into him and whines when he takes back his fingers.
"'M sorry, kitten," he mumbles with his lips on her temple. "So fuckin' sorry, baby. I'll make it up to you double time."
"You bet your ass you will," Bella replies, but there's no malice behind her words.
They kiss once more, this one gentler and sweeter. Dean runs his nose down Bella's cheek before stepping back and adjusting himself. Bella notices and as she's throwing her hair up into a ponytail, whispers;
"Think of a sexy Yoda. That'll deflate you in no time."
He grins. "Make you come, I must."
Bella shoves him backwards, laughing as she hops off the counter.
"I got the door, you ass hat."
Dean adjusts himself one more time (luckily Bella's trick had worked and is still steadily working, thank Christ) before turning around to greet Bobby and Sam.
"Hey Bobby," he says.
"Hey. Brought some lore books for you boys. Thought they'd be helpful," says Bobby, setting a pile of books on the table.
Brushing donut crumbs aside, he picks up the first book and flips it open to a page of an angel. At least, Dean thinks he's an angel. He's got robes and a halo, but looks like he'd rather be on the cover of Playgirl than preaching gospel.
"Who's that?" asks Sam.
"Michael," Bella says. "The archangel."
Bobby looks at her, surprised. His lips twitch, almost as though he was planning on smiling at her.
"Yep," he says instead. "She's right. He commands the Heavenly host. During the last big dust up upstairs, he's the one who booted Lucifer's ass to the basement. Did it with that sword right there. And, if we can find it-"
"We can kick Satan back down into that cesspool where he belongs," says Bella firmly.
Dean's impressed with her. He nudges her and gives her a smile. She returns it with a wink.
"She's right," Bobby says. "Now, I say everyone take a book and get to readin'. Bella-"
"Yes, Bobby?"
"Heard you can translate. See these?"
Dean briefly sees a page of a book covered in strange writing before Bella grabs the book up in her hand.
"Yes. This is Prisca," she says. "Spoken before the founding of Rome."
"Can you translate?"
"I sure can, Bobby."
Her voice sounds strange and Dean wants to ask her what's wrong.
"Good. Get to it then," says Bobby gruffly, staring hard at Bella.
She nods once, eyeing him warily, before settling down on a bed. Dean opens his own book and settles down to read next to her. Sam seems hesitant though, running his fingers over the cover of an old, decrepit book.
"Kid?" Bobby asks. "You all right?"
"No actually. This is my fault. Bobby, I'm sorry," Sam says.
Dean grunts, looking up from his book. "Sam…"
"Lilith didn't break the final seal," Sam continues. "Lilith was the final seal."
"Sam, stop it," Bella says gently.
Dean notices that her gaze isn't on Sam though. It's on Bobby. She tilts her head as she stares and stares and stares. Dean's getting a little nervous. Is she having a seizure?
"I killed her and I set Lucifer free," Sam finishes.
"You what?" Bobby says quietly.
"You guys warned me about Ruby, the demon blood, but I didn't listen. I brought this on," Sam admits.
Dean can't bother to look anymore. He stares down at the text sitting on his lap and Bella, noting the way his shoulders tensed, entwined her fingers with his. They both wait in silence for what's about to happen next.
"You're damn right you didn't listen! You were reckless and selfish and arrogant!" Bobby yells.
"I'm sorry," Sam says meekly, folding into himself.
"Oh yeah? You're sorry you started Armageddon? This kind of thing don't get forgiven, boy! If, by some miracle we pull this off, I want you to lose my number! You understand me?"
Sam nods as if he expected something like this. Dean decides to say nothing as he looks at his feet. Bella on the other hand, stands up from the bed and glares darkly at Bobby. Dean can almost feel the power splashing over Bella as her fingers twitch. The crappy lights in the motel room begin to flicker and everyone except Bella startles in surprise.
"Bella," Dean says warningly.
"No!" she snaps. "Are you all serious right now? He said he was sorry! How was he supposed to know that Ruby was evil? For Pete's sake, they had sex! I mean, she was good and convincing and you give him shit for falling for it? Are you kidding me? Whatever happened to the stupid 'family is everything' mantra that you people have tattooed on your asses? Does that only apply in certain situations? It only applies when it's convenient to you asshats? Huh? You have got to be fucking kidding me!"
Bobby stares at her, his eyes boiling. Dean grabs her by the wrist to tell her to calm down, but then she lets out a little yelp as though his touch burned her. Dean looks at her, his mouth opening to ask her what the hell that was about.
"Sam," she says abruptly, green eyes still on Bobby's blue ones. "Let's get out of here. Take me to that cool library you were raving about, yeah?"
"Uh, sure," Sam says, gathering things up. "Let's go."
"Now!" Bella snaps.
What is going on? Why is Bella suddenly being a bitch? Dean opens his mouth to ask her what's up, but she and Sam are out the door before he can even get the first syllable out. He grunts and turns back to his book. He feels jealous again and he hates it.
SotD is "Cat Scratch Fever" by Ted Nugent. Whooo!
Thanks for reading