Sam fumbled with a half-empty bottle of holy water.
Something bothered him about her- she wasn't human. She couldn't be.
Monster.
Sam knew what that was like. To have something evil inside you. It bubbled inside him, yearning to reveal he other side of life- the side where games were deadly and fun was sinister. He saw it in her- she enjoyed shadowplay, the darkness that could shroud her, majestic and free. There were days when it scared him- terrifying evil, just beyond the edge of his vision. It was all he could do to silence tat lie that rang in his head, disguised as his father, as Dean, as himself. It had to be a lie- didn't it?
Horrible.
She represented everything he'd hid from Dean, from himself. She must have given in to the whispering council, to live to see Malcolm's downfall. To bring him down herself.
Sam couldn't let her go- how could anyone be taken in by that thin, lying smile? She hid behind it, a distraught mask meant to cover her inner demon. Her inner monster.
Demon.
Only to be vanquished. Killed. Nothing was more important than the hunt.
Just like dad. If you're not careful, you'll end up like him. Paranoid. Trigger-happy. Demon-crazed.
Alone.
Sam, with his bottle of holy water and tricks that Dean would never believe, clenched his jaw and gripped the doorhandle. Alexa was holding the door open for Dean, laughing as he led her out into the bare morning light.
My turn.
