Chapter 26
"So… we ever gonna talk about it?" Dean threw the question out in the open causing Sam to look up from his laptop with a frown.
Was he actually volunteering to speak on the subject of him and Amy? That just didn't seem anything like his brother.
To say that the long drive out of Dodge had been excruciating was quite a euphemism. Five hundred miles trapped in a car with two stubbornly silent people adamant on ignoring some glaring issues between them was just torture.
For the first one hundred miles, Sam had actually tried to make small talk. All he'd gotten for his trouble had been monosyllabic replies from Amy and grunts from Dean. So, eventually, he'd given up and they'd remained in complete and painful stillness all the way to the front desk of the motel they were currently staying at. Once there, Sam had booked two adjacent rooms, one for Amy and one for himself and his brother. The Winchester's had parted ways with the young doctor when she'd reached her door.
Dean had immediately slipped into his room while Sam had stayed behind for a couple of minutes. He'd handed her a piece of white chalk and reminded her of the steps she needed to take in order to keep her space demon-proof.
When he'd entered his own room, he'd found Dean already sprawled on the bed closest to the door. His eyes were shut, but Sam knew his brother well enough to recognise when he was feigning sleep. He didn't want to talk about it. That was crystal clear.
Ultimately, Dean had in fact dozed off only to wake from his slumber after three hours. He'd mumbled something unintelligible and had marched into the bathroom. When he'd returned, he'd plopped back onto the mattress and assumed his current position lying against the headboard of the bed, arms tightly crossed over his chest.
After two minutes of intense staring, Dean had finally come out with the surprising question.
"I didn't think you wanted to talk about it." Sam managed to say once he'd snapped out of his initial shock.
"Why wouldn't I want to talk about it?" It was Dean's turn to frown.
"I don't know, um… maybe cause you're emotionally challenged and frantically avoid all and any conversation that may remotely lead to the word 'feeling', much like one would avoid say… the plague." Sam mocked.
This only served to deepen the wrinkles between Dean's brows.
"Dude, what are you talking about?"
"Amy."
Dean visibly tensed up.
"I didn't mean her."
Over the last few weeks he'd learned it was best not to say her name out loud, it had a tendency to make his stomach spasm a little. So, he'd resorted to safer words like 'woman' or 'her' when referring to the aggravating redhead.
'Ah, it figures!'
Sam shook his head wearily.
"What?! There's nothing to talk about. She's a pain in the ass, but we're stuck with her if we want to keep my gorgeous tush out of hell." Dean summarized.
"Whatever, man." Sam shrugged and casually returned his attention to the screen of his laptop.
He had better things to do than try to pick and prod some smidgen of truth out of Dean when it came to the subject of Amy. It was definitely a sensitive topic and therefore not to be mentioned… ever.
"So we don't get along… It's not like it's my fault. The girl's a pest." Dean defended himself.
He waited for Sam to reply, but his younger brother simply continued staring at the computer.
"She has an opinion on everything!"
Sam looked up. Apparently, Dean had some venting to do, so he obliged him by asking:
"And that's a bad thing?"
"She's stubborn as a mule."
The younger Winchester cocked an eyebrow.
"And you're not?"
"Yeah, but when I do it it's cute." Dean countered with a grin.
"Oh, yeah, it's adorable." Sam snorted.
"She's constantly getting herself in trouble, risking her life and we're the ones left to clean up the mess." Dean continued his rant.
But Sam insisted on spoiling his fun.
"Kinda like you selling your soul and Amy having to save your sorry ass?"
Dean popped out of bed, waving his hand around as he stated:
"I never asked her for this stupid ring!"
Sam threw him a dirty look.
"It's making my life miserable." Dean almost whined.
"At least you're alive." Sam pointed out. "I can't believe how ungrateful you are, man. The woman hands you a get out of hell card, getting herself in a whole world of trouble because of it and you can't even cut her some slack."
"I've cut her some slack." Dean protested.
That ticked Sam off.
"When?! Every time she says something you say the exact opposite. It's like you're purposefully trying to pick a fight."
"I've tried to be civil with her. But there's just no talking to that woman. She's impossible."
"Come on, man, you obviously like her."
"Like her? Dude, I can hardly stand her."
"Right…"
Dean was appalled.
"You think I like her?!"
"What's not to like? She's strong, opinionated, willing to risk her life for the people she cares about and pigheaded as hell. She's you, except in a pretty, testosterone-free package." Sam retorted.
"I'm prettier." Dean muttered, and then his brain registered something Sam had said. "Wait. You think she cares about me?"
"She turned her whole world upside down for you. What do you think?" Sam tilted his head in a clear sign of annoyance.
Dean, on his part, seemed engrossed in processing his brother's reasoning. He did make a valid point. Why else would she have done what she did?
Sam could almost see the cogs turning in Dean's dim-witted brain.
"I know you like her." Sam stated matter-of-factly. "It's only a question of how much."
Oh, no he didn't!
"Newsflash, Sammy, if there is any shred of me liking her it's only cause this ring is making me feel things."
Sam gave his brother another exasperated eye roll.
"The ring doesn't make you feel anything."
"Really? You want to slip this shinny trinket on and test that little theory of yours, Sammy?"
"I don't need to. I've done my home work. There is no mention of the Ocellina rings having any effect on the carrier's emotional state."
"You sure?" Dean questioned walking around to stand behind his brother while Sam opened a computer file tagged 'Ocellina'.
He scanned through its contents. There wasn't much there but Sam was correct.
"They were considered fakes. The consensus was that the mystic botched up the job since there has never been any evidence of them actually working…" Sam looked over his shoulder, catching Dean's eye to add: "…until you and Amy, that is."
There was a heavy pause and a chill ran down Dean's spine, but he recovered quickly to continue with trademark nonchalance:
"Well, they work. No other explanation for the hellhounds backing out, right?"
Sam nodded.
"Speaking of which… why didn't you… you know…" Dean felt a knot forming in his throat at what he was about to say. "…drop dead the second I managed to weasel out of the deal?"
"My best guess would be because when you made the deal you and Amy had already exchanged vows."
"Oh, don't say it like that."
Sam feigned innocence:
"Like what?"
"Like Carrot-head and I are married, or something."
"No, you're not… you're soul mates."
Sam smirked at his brother's cringe.
"You're enjoying this too much, Sammy." Dean grumbled going back to the bed and sitting down.
"Anyway, since the… thing between you and Amy came before the crossroads deal, it technically means you didn't do anything to weasel out of it." Sam concluded.
Dean stared at the metallic loop as he worried the ring in his finger, for an instance before asking:
"You say you're sure these things don't mess with a guy's mind."
"Can't be one hundred sure but…"
"Then why would this Ofelia chick-"
"Ocellina."
"Whatever. Why would she want them if they didn't have some major Romeo-effect on the dude she wanted to marry?"
Sam didn't have an answer to that and Dean glanced up to throw him a classic 'A-ha!' look.
"Why do you think they worked this time?" Sam questioned.
"Don't know. Maybe the incantation was never done the right way."
"Come on, Amy's parents were occult experts. If they couldn't make the spell work do you really think a couple of kids would? Going by your Latin I would say it's highly unlikely." Sam snorted.
Dean's attention was back on the ring, ignoring his brother's jab.
Sam sighed and resumed with a graver tone:
"I guess the real question here is…"
Dean looked up.
"Why did it work with you and Amy?"
"What about me?"
Startled, the two men jolted in their seat and looked in the direction of the door to find Amy stepping inside the room.
"We were-"
"Nothing." Dean cut in, standing up abruptly.
"O-kay…" Amy searched Sam's face for an explanation.
He squirmed under the intense stare and, straitening up, awkwardly announced:
"I'm taking a shower."
With that he began closing his computer and every key stroke resounded loudly in the sudden stillness. As always, Amy felt compelled to break it:
"Well, as much as I love uncomfortable silences - God knows we haven't had enough of those over the last few days - I'm hungry!"
"I could eat." Dean agreed and whispered as Sam passed by on his way to the bathroom: "See, I don't always disagree with her."
Sam didn't even bother replying as he continued into the bathroom, leaving the couple alone.
And the umpteenth awkward moment between the two was on. Thankfully, Dean didn't seem too keen on enduring another round of dead silence either as he spoke up:
"How about we order pizza?"
"Sounds good."
He walked over to the telephone.
"Any special request?"
"Not really. Just wanna eat."
Man, she did sound like him at times.
"Ok." He began dialling when he heard her utter ineptly:
"I-I'll just be in my room. Let me know when they're here?"
She was out the door before Dean could finish nodding.
"Pizza's here." Sam called out loud enough for Dean to hear him from the bathroom.
"It's your turn to pay."
Dean hollered back over the sound of water running.
"It's always my turn to pay." Sam grumbled opening the door and paying the red-cap wearing kid who, in turn, handed him their dinner.
He set the two large boxes on the table, side by side and flipped both lids, one at a time.
He frowned when he saw the unusual topping on the first one.
"Pineapple?"
Since when did Dean like anything but meat on his pizza? The second one was the more traditional sausage and beef pizza with extra pepperoni. Well, at least traditional according to Dean Winchester.
The frown was still on Sam's face when Dean stepped out of the bathroom wrapped in a damp towel; a gush of steam trailing after him.
"Dude, what the hell? Pineapple?"
He was about to reply when the front door opened and a starved Amy waltzed in. Her stride faltered when she caught a glimpse of a half-naked, soaked Dean.
"Hey, you can't just bust into a guy's room like that!" Dean protested, even though his heart proudly skipped a beat.
He'd caught the hit of lust in her gaze, just before she'd managed to avert it towards the open boxes on the table.
"I've seen you naked, Winchester." Amy humph-ed. "It's not novelty."
She was satisfied with the smoothness in her voice and mentally gave herself a pat on the back for it while reaching for a large slice of pizza.
"Um… pineapple!" She hummed just before taking a bulky bite out of it.
'Ok. Pineapple explained.' Sam thought as he watched her revel in the flavour.
All three sat around the table, Sam strategically placed between the two hotheads.
Gradually, the pieces began disappearing from the two cartons, the two boys focussing on the meaty pizza, while Amy delighted herself with the Hawaiian style delight. The Winchesters were surprised to find that she had no trouble keeping up with them.
When she reached for her sixth slice the brother's halted their pizza-guzzling to exchange a look.
"What?" She asked without interrupting her pleased munching.
"Nothing. Just wondering where you put all that food?" Dean replied.
"Where do you put it?" Amy retorted wolfing down the rest.
"You gobbled down over half of a fourteen inch pizza!" Dean exclaimed on his defence.
"So did you and Sam."
"We're guys!"
"And I like pizza." She replied casually, dusting off her hands, and stretching back on her chair.
"Clearly!"
"Ugh…" She groaned when her stomach showed the first signs of objection against the violent assault it had been subjected to.
Dean and Sam gave her a worried sideways glance. She didn't look good.
"I think I need to go to the bathroom." She'd barely finished that sentence when the door closed behind her.
"Twenty bucks says she's gonna hurl." Dean offered and Sam shook his head disapprovingly.
"How'd you know about the pineapple thing?"
Dean shrugged and answered dismissively:
"One time her mom made pizza for us and I remember hers had pineapple on it."
Sam searched his memories and came up empty.
"When was that?"
Dean responded with a mouthful:
"After that Wendigo job Dad did with Bobby. Bobby got hurt and we stopped at the Carrington's so Amy's mom could patch him up."
"I remember that." Sam recalled vaguely. "I don't remember the pizza, though."
"You were probably too young to remember."
"Dude, I was eleven." Sam exclaimed.
"So?"
"So, I was old enough to remember things. Lots of thing, just not tiny details like what I ate that day, let alone what Amy ate."
Whatever Sam was hinting at was pissing Dean off.
"What is this? The Inquisition? So I remembered that the girl likes fruit in her pizza, big deal. It's an odd choice of topping; it stuck out in my mind."
"Not really, a lot of folks eat Hawaiian style pizza." Sam pointed out.
"We don't."
"Well, actually…" Sam trailed off and poignantly glanced at the slice Dean was currently shoving into his mouth.
"What?! Dude, I'm hungry. You know me, I'll eat anything." One last bite and he added: "Plus, it kinda grows on you."
"Apparently…"
Dean tossed the crust into the now empty box and glared at Sam:
"Dude, just let it go, alright?"
Amy's grunts of pain came to Dean's rescue as she stumbled into the room, holding her belly:
"Oh, God!"
The two brothers eyed her struggling to walk in a straight line. She was aiming for her chair, but it was all the way across the room, so she let out another groan and gracelessly flopped onto the nearest bed. The mattress squeaked under her burden, wobbling for a couple of seconds before settling.
"Um… I don't feel so good…"
"That's a surprise!" Dean jeered and Amy popped one single lid to deliver a feeble death glare.
"Are you ok?" A worried Sam intervened. "Do you need something?"
She held onto her stomach and rolled onto her side; her facial expression leaving no doubts about her current state of nausea.
"Some club soda…" She was able to whine.
Club soda? Where the hell could you get club soda? It wasn't something they usually bought.
"There's a seven-eleven down the road. I'll check to see if they have any." Sam offered hastily and before Dean could object he was out the door, the keys to the Impala in his hand.
So there he was… alone with her… again.