Epilogue
The horrific odor assaulting Sam's sense of smell slammed reality back into his weary mind, his eyes opening with a start as he tried pushing the hands causing the offense away from his face. He looked up and into the familiar, yet totally unfamiliar eyes staring at him, the eyes that usually made him feel three feet tall and scared the crap out of him every time they were shot in his direction that were now soft and filled with genuine concern for his well being. They were no longer cold and harsh but warm and gentle, and Sam finally saw how beautiful she really was now that her kind heart shined through, the beauty he'd never noticed through the stern, disapproving looks she always seemed to throw his way.
"You ok Sam?" She asked him softly and attempting to raise him into a somewhat sitting position. "You look a little pale, here, drink this," she continued, handing him a bottle of juice and him gladly taking it, grateful for the impending sugar buzz that would hopefully come.
From his half seated position on the floor, he slowly and silently downed the overly sweet juice, his eyes never once straying from what had shocked him so badly the second he walked in the door and running one scenario after another through his mind once the questions he knew were coming started. Once the bottle was finally empty, he just deposited it on the floor next to him and placed his now free hands firmly on the floor and made an effort to pick himself up totally upright at just about the same time Dr. Matthews laid a hand on his chest and forced him back down again.
"Slow down Sam, just wait there a minute and let me help you up. I don't want you landing face first on the tile again." She motioned for one of the 'visitors' to grab one arm as she grabbed the other and slowly guided him into a standing position, careful not to change his altitude too fast and cause him to crash again. They walked him across the room, his view of his brother totally obscured by the burly man holding him upright, but the monotonous sounds of the ventilator and the droning beeping of the heart monitor telling him nothing had changed since he'd left, at least not for the better anyway.
"Let's sit you in that chair there, ok," burly said as they lowered him slowly into the seat and giving him a moment to collect himself before he spoke. Little did he know Sam had been trying to collect himself since he'd seen him when he walked into the room.
"Sam, this is Detective Warner and his partner Detective Richardson. They were notified when all the test results came back, and they'd like to ask you a few question," Dr. Matthews told him, she herself dying to finally hear all the answers as well.
"What do you want to know?" He asked, his thoughts running at the speed of a gazelle being chased by a pack of starving wolves, hoping and praying he'd come up with the answers that would appease them and they'd just leave.
"Mr. Winchester, or may I call you Sam?" Warner asked, the overly friendly tone he used immediately making Sam suspicious, making him feel like they already thought him to be the guilty one.
"Sam's fine," he answered, keeping his answer short, the tone sounding somewhat dejected.
"Sam, do you have any idea who did this to your brother?" He asked him slowly, his own tone still friendly but slightly accusatory too.
He thought hard for a minute, the light bulb instantly shining bright as he fully intended on telling them exactly what they wanted to hear. "Yeah, I do. Her name's Jennifer, but she goes by Jay, and sorry but I honestly don't think I ever got her last name. I met her in a bar the other night, and she looked so much like someone I knew and lost that it just blinded me. She and this other guy had it out for my brother for some reason, and she distracted me so he could get to Dean. He beat him, then…well…you can see what else they did. Oh god, this is all my fault. Please, tell me you're going to catch them before they try to hurt him again," Sam was actually crying as he spoke, the fear and guilt he felt real, but the tears all for show. At least that's what he told himself.
"Wait a second, you mean that girl that you were here with, the one that…" Dr. Matthews couldn't finish what she was saying. All this time she blamed Sam, just like to police had. She'd been wrong, and immediately felt guilty for the way she'd been treating him all along. "I'm so sorry Sam."
Warner gave Dr. Matthews a long look now, directing his next question to her instead of Sam. "You met her? This woman he's talking about?"
"Yes I met her, she was with them the first time they brought Dean here. She had pretty much saved his life, which is a little strange considering what Sam's saying," Dr. Matthews was really confused now, and Sam knew it was his turn to speak.
"She only saved his life because they weren't done with him yet. I know this sounds crazy, but his getting as sick as he did wasn't part of their plan. Their plan was to torture him, then kill him. I don't know why, for that you'll have to ask Dean," that was it, the out he needed. He'd given them enough information to at least get them off his back, but for the rest they would have to wait for Dean to wake up, if he ever woke up. Sam gave a little shudder at that thought, and it did not go unnoticed by the sharp detective either.
"You sure there isn't anything else? Did you ever see this other guy? A physical description would sure be helpful."
Sam could sense a slight change in the cops tone, like maybe he was starting to believe him, but not entirely, not just yet. Sam really had to think about what he was going to say next, because he sure as hell wasn't giving a description that would put an APB out on himself. He'd have to keep it vague, because really, what did it matter, they'd never find him anyway. "I never saw him, not really, but Dean did. I think he was about six foot, brown hair, that's about it. I'm really sorry, but Dean is the one that you really need to be speaking to."
"Yeah, well, we'd really like to be speaking to him too. As soon as he's able, would you please call. The sooner we know who we're looking for, the sooner we can find them." The burly officer directed his comment to Dr. Matthews as he held out his hand to Sam, and Sam took it and shook it as firmly as he possibly could. A firm handshake was a sign of trustworthiness and integrity after all. Detective Warner excused himself after handing a card to the doctor and one to Sam, informing them both they'd get a view of Jay from the security cameras and left, his silent partner following right behind, never saying one word.
Sam relaxed back into the chair and took a few deep breaths, hopeful that yet another disaster had been averted. Now, he just needed to deal with his brother, knowing full well nobody would be coming after him anymore. He stood slowly and shuffled to the bedside, listening to the sounds of life being forced into his brother's battered and failing body and wracked his brain for answers, but coming up with none.
"I'm really sorry Sam, but the police had to be called considering the circumstances. It's not everyday someone comes into the ER with an acute case of arsenic poisoning. Did you mean what you said about them still coming after Dean? Is he going to be safe here or should we call security?" She was genuinely concerned with the prospect of trouble, not wanting to have any of it, at least for the next few hours. She honestly didn't think it would be more then that anyway. She still hadn't told Sam that they'd pretty much run out of options, and the infection was pretty much running rampant now, wrecking havoc through his entire system as it spread. She knew it would only be a matter of time, and she dreaded telling him. Somehow, Sam already knew it though.
"No, I'm pretty sure they wont be back…He's not any better, is he?" He asked, fearful of what he was about to hear.
"No, he's not. I'm really sorry Sam, but there isn't much else we can do. We've pretty much run the gambit of antibiotics and none of them have worked. It's pretty much up to him and his body, and I'm afraid that's not a very fair fight," she sighed, finally feeling pity for Sam instead of casting blame.
Sam wasn't ready just yet to give up though, he still had a plan. It would be a crazy one, but at least it was better then nothing. "Dr. Matthews, are there any medications that are silver based?"
She frowned at the question, not really sure where he was going with it. "Not really. There were a long time ago, but they haven't been manufactured in years due to the expense. The only thing that really comes to mind is colloidal silver, but that's not really a standard treatment. Its used on occasion as a disinfectant, but as a medication it's more holistic really, even though studies have shown it does kill certain organisms. Besides, the drugs we're using to purge the arsenic could interact with the silver and make it toxic."
"Does that really matter? He's going to die if we don't do something. At least we should try." Sam knew he had to talk fast to talk her into it somehow, knowing that the real truth would never work. Hell, the treatment may not work either, but it was his only option. Silver was lethal to shapeshifters, and it was her blood causing all of this after all. "Please Dr. Matthews, all I'm asking for is chance at saving my brother's life. Nothing else is working is it?"
She shook her head, knowing that it really wouldn't matter much either way. Dean was pretty much a dead man already, so what could it hurt. "Ok Sam, we'll try it. I'll have to see if we even have any in the pharmacy. Somehow I doubt it though, but I'll go take a look anyway. Keep your fingers crossed, it may be the only chance he has left, and I really do hope you're right." She walked from the room with a little speed in her gait on the off chance that Sam was on to something. He sure sounded like he knew something she didn't, and she fully intended on at least satisfying Sam's need to know that they had done everything they possibly could. She hit the elevators and headed down, leaving the room eerily quiet, save for the machinery making the only sounds.
Sam flopped back down into his seat utterly broken and exhausted and even a little heartbroken, all his energy spent with no more reserves to tap from. He covered his face with his hands, and this time really cried, not caring anymore who saw him or heard him until he just fell asleep, unable to keep his eyes open anymore.
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Dr. Matthews gently shook Sam awake and cringed at the bloodshot eyes that stared at her as they tried to push the sleep out and focus on her. His neck and back were stiff from sleeping in the hard, plastic chair in an upright position, but he just considered it well-deserved punishment for the torture forced upon his brother and left it at that. She flashed him a comforting smile and waited for him to come fully around, his exhaustion still very apparent in his eyes and body language as he started to lean forward in an attempt to stand. Dr. Matthews just pushed him back down again and dropped one of he bags she'd been holding in his lap.
"I brought you something to eat, hope you're not a vegetarian."
Sam opened the bag and immediately smelled the grease coming from inside, his stomach growling and rumbling the second the scent hit his nose. He really didn't care at this point what he shoved into his mouth, food was food. "Not today… and thanks," he smiled back, it being one of those forced, fake smiles as he shoved greasy fries in his mouth and chewed mindlessly.
"Well, I had to try three different places, but I finally found the what I was looking for. Got a crash course in dosage too, so here goes nothing. Therapeutic amounts should be 8-12 teaspoons per day, so let's start with three and see how that goes," she tried to sound confident, but she really had no idea what the hell she was doing, but she didn't want Sam to know that.
"Why not the whole 12 now?" Sam wanted results, and he wanted them now, his lack of patience somewhat unnerving, even to him.
"Because it's processed through the kidneys, and so is the arsenic. The last thing I want to do is overload his system and send it into shock. We have to take this slow if you want it to work Sam, and since the drugs to purge the poison are given every four hours, we have to stick to small doses." She didn't wait for his response as she proceeded to shoot the liquid through the feeding tube and flushed it down with water, doing her best to make sure it all went all the way down. Now all they could do is sit and wait.
Sam had long since fallen back to sleep as she pulled up her own chair and continued the process every couple hours, the nurse that had come in twice to administer the first of many more injections to come just staring at her, trying to figure out why she was still there. She'd been there all day, and was starting to wonder that herself and had no answer. All she knew was that she needed to see this one to the end, no matter what the outcome.
"Hey, you're still here?" Sam's voice startled her somewhat, breaking the silence and her train of thought unexpectantly.
"Well, just can't seem to stay away. Guess I'm a sucker for a pretty face," she laughed lightly, trying to lighten Sam's obviously dark mood. "If you're good for a while, I think I'm going to leave for a bit. You need to give him this every couple hours, but don't let the nurses know. I don't want them to think I've lost my mind, ok?"
"I think I can handle it. Do you think it's working?" Sam braced himself for the answer, almost ready to hear it.
"Well, there's been no improvement yet, but no decline either, and that really surprises me. I guess you could say that's an improvement, but don't get your hopes up too high Sam. I'll make sure they page me if anything happens, and I'll be back in a few hours. Maybe you should talk to him, you never know, he may hear you."
"Talk... yeah, good idea," he said it, but didn't mean it as she walked out the door. He had way too many things to say that from his perspective needed to be said. 'Well, guess now is as good a time as any.'
He stood and stretched, the chair slumber he'd just woken from just adding to the aches and pains currently running through his body. He'd decided he needed to tell his brother how he felt, so he just began laying his cards out on the table, knowing Dean would never listen to him if he was awake and aware, but Sam needing to at least get it out of his own system. He leaned over the bed and rested a hand across his brother's forehead, and hoped he wasn't going crazy when he actually felt it had started cooling off. He looked up at the monitor and confirmed his sanity with a small internal cheer. His fever was down, only a little, but still down. Maybe this was going to work after all.
"Hey Dean, I know you're gonna be mad at me, but I really don't care. I had to do it, I had to take her out, I had to do it for you. I thought for sure it would be the answer, but I guess it wasn't. Please don't be so far gone that you can't come back, because I could never live with myself if that happened. As much as you won't admit it, this is all my fault. You can argue the point all you like, but in the end, you know I'm right. I'm the one that dragged you to St. Louis in the first place, which is where all this shit started, all of it. I also know you knew there was something wrong with her the second you met her, but I was an asshole and wouldn't listen, and this is where it got us. You even wanted to leave town, but I said no. It was like I was hypnotized by her, and all I saw was Jessica in her, and couldn't see beyond that. She had me so twisted I didn't know which end was up until it was too late. I don't know exactly how to tell you this either, but that text that brought us here in the first place, Dad didn't send it, they did. Guess that makes everything that happened at Roosevelt my fault too, and leaves us right back at square one wondering where Dad is. I don't know if you can ever forgive me for the horrible things I did and said, but I'll understand if you can't. Just know that you're my brother, and I love you, and I don't want to look for Dad without you. In fact, I don't think I can look for Dad by myself."
Tears had started streaming down Sam's face again, only a few at a time, snaking their way down his chin and landing somewhere out of eyeshot. The pain and guilt he'd felt came out in his voice with every word, his inability to even look at Dean a true testament to how he really felt. He jumped when he felt the fingers brush lightly against his cheek and wipe away the few straggling tears that still rolled and was shocked to see his brother's eyes fixed hard on his face, his eyes telling Sam that Dean had heard every word he'd just said. He couldn't hold back the smile that spread from ear to ear as he cleared his throat to speak again.
"You heard every word of that, didn't you?" If Dean could have smiled he probably would have, the shaking of his head making Sam roll his eyes and sigh. "You're never gonna let me live it down, are you?"
The slight shrug of his shoulders told Sam what he needed to know. He'd live it down alright, because if Dean had his way, it would never be spoken of again. It ended right here, right now. Just as fast as the light switch that woke Dean from his deep sleep was flipped on, it was now abruptly flipped back off as Sam watched his brother's eyes drift closed again, falling right back into that sleep he'd temporarily been drawn from just long enough to hear Sam's pained confession and to let him know that it was all going to be alright. He spent the next few hours with just himself, finally somewhat at peace with everything that had happened and knowing Dean was too.
Sometime during the night, at least he thought it was night by now, he really couldn't tell anymore, he'd fallen asleep again, only to be dragged back awake by the somewhat refreshed Dr. Matthews, now that she'd made her return. Sam had gotten to know some of her facial expressions pretty well by now, and he wasn't sure he liked the one he saw on her face.
"Sam, I have something to tell you," she started, pausing for a minute to take a breath and sending Sam's blood pressure sky high with anticipation. Had Dean died in his sleep and he'd slept right through it? No way, couldn't have. "It seems they found the body of a woman in the back of a Suburban that they think may be…well… you know. The police think the two of them may have turned on one another, and he killed her. As soon as Dean can talk to them, they really need a better description of him, but they honestly think he's probably long gone by now. I'm really sorry Sam, I know how much you wanted this all to be over."
As far as Sam was concerned, it was all over. His only concern now was Dean, and since she was standing directly in front of him and blocking his view, he just asked. "How's Dean? Any change?"
She dropped the ominous look and replaced it with a much more positive one as she answered him, "As a matter of fact, yes Sam. Stand up and see for yourself."
He didn't need to be told twice as she cleared the way for him, and he was stunned to see how much had changed in the few hours he'd been asleep. He was still in a deep state of slumber, but he was breathing on his own, the absence of the noisy machine totally unnoticed by Sam until he'd seen his brother's face, the face that no longer looked deathly pale and pained but calm and peaceful. For the second time in a day Sam thought for sure he could pass out, or maybe it was the third, since he actually had once.
"I don't know what it is, but we finally found an antibiotic concoction that works, and the levels of poison are slowly going down. I'd say things are looking up Sam. He's not totally out of the woods, but he's pretty much at the tree line now. A couple more steps and I think he'll be in the clear," she could almost feel Sam's relief wash over him at her words, and if she knew Dean like Sam did, she'd know that she'd just told him his brother was going to be just fine. "Sam, I think I'm finally going to go home now. I plan on sleeping the day away, and then I'll be back. Somehow I have a feeling I won't be getting any emergency pages any time soon, and I am thankful for that." She tossed Sam a wave as she walked out, her stride displaying the victory she felt. Sam dropped himself back in his own seat, the first real smile he'd had in a long time finally gracing his face as he pulled up a chair, rested his head on his brother's bed, closed his eyes and promptly went right back to sleep himself.
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For two days Sam waited, two long days of gradual improvement, but not the improvement Sam had been looking for. Dean's fever was way down, just barely over the hundred mark and occasionally even under it. Instead of those god awful shots they were giving him every four hours to purge the arsenic from his body they were now reduced to four times a day, and by tomorrow it would only be two. Sam could see they hurt when they gave them to his brother as his face would scrunch into a scowl, but it never once pained him enough to wake him, and the longer he went without a wakeful moment, the more worried Sam got. Dr. Matthews had told him not to worry, that he'd been through such a horrible, traumatic experience that he may not wake up for days to come, but Sam didn't care, he just wanted to see his brother awake, to hear his brother speak, even if it was some obnoxious smart ass comment usually at his own expense. Every day there was improvement, and Sam could finally see a light burning brightly at the end of their long, dark tunnel, he just wished Dean would open his eyes and see it too.
Totally frustrated by the third day, Sam cornered Dr. Matthews and decided that since she'd been an almost permanent fixture around them both the last few days, she had opened the door to be a venting source. "Dr. Matthews, it's been four days and he hasn't even opened his eyes. Is there something wrong that you're not telling me? Is he really alright? Are you sure you didn't miss something?" As much as he tried to hide it, he was scared, and she knew it. She'd been around him enough the last few days to figure him out quite a bit.
"Well Sam, since it's been four days, maybe you could stop calling me Dr. Matthews and just call me Olivia. I'm really sick of hearing 'Dr. Matthews' anyway, and no, we haven't missed anything. I already told you that this is not unusual and you just need to be patient. When his body is ready, he'll wake up, ok?"
"Thanks Sam, way to go with the big mouth. I'm awake now," the voice, Dean's voice, startled them both, but more so Sam as he just stood there with his mouth open wide and nothing to say.
"Welcome back Dean. How do you feel?" Dr. Matthews was not at a loss for words though, taking the lead from the dumbstruck younger brother.
"Like a pin cushion. How many more times are they going to poke me before you let me out of here?" His eyes were half open, but they were open, and Sam couldn't help but notice that for the first time in over a week they weren't glazed over anymore. They were Dean's eyes, and that was all he needed to see.
"Only about twelve. You can do a dozen, can't you?" She chirped, throwing a wave at them both as she turned to leave. "I'm sure you two have plenty to talk about, so I guess I'll just let you do that."
Dean watched her fully walk out the door before he opened his mouth, knowing it was not what Sam wanted to hear, but needing to say it anyway. "Holy shit, she's really hot. How the hell did I sleep with that all over me for the last…how many days has it been Sam?" He smirked, the attempt at annoying Sam totally not working. Any other day it probably would have, but not today.
"Four days man, you've been out of it for four days."
"Damn, don't think I've ever slept for four days straight. Well, maybe not straight." He paused for a minute, anxious to get things off his own chest as much as Sam had. " Listen Sam, you said your piece Sam, now I want to say mine, and when I do, it's over, I mean OVER." Sam shook his head and listened, knowing he'd never witness this ever again in his entire lifetime. "I don't blame you for any of this Sam. You didn't drag me to St. Louis, I went willingly, and it's a good thing too because what would have happened if we hadn't? I wish I could say I knew that bitch was bad news before all the shit hit the fan, but I just can't remember so we'll just let that one go too. She was slick though, they both were. She got into your head and he got into mine. The nightmares, he caused them, all of them, and that is not your fault Sammy. I'm alive because of you, not in spite of you, so don't ever forget that," he paused for just a second to get control of himself, but it was a second too long, and it gave Sam an opportunity to protest.
"But all those things I did and said, that was my fault Dean."
"No it wasn't Sam. That was the crazy ass head doctor's fault, and maybe at first I didn't believe it when you said you didn't mean what you said, but I do now. When I was back at Roosevelt, that thing told me things that…let's just say in a twisted way I needed to hear and leave it at that. It's over, and I for one don't want to ever talk about it again, deal?"
"Even that part when you wet the bed, because you know Dean, that's some good…"
"SAM!" And at the yelling of his name, both men just stared laughing, almost until they cried, Sam never once saying they had a deal.
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The next six days were long, slow, and boring for both brothers, but miraculously Dean never once complained he wanted to leave, and Sam figured that was due to the fact that every time he turned around, Dean and the good doctor Olivia were whispering things to each other that Sam just couldn't hear, and probably didn't want to either. He'd grown to like the woman, and she'd grown to like him too. The police had come and gone, finally satisfied by what Dean had to say to know that they didn't need to throw Sam in the nearest cell and throw away the key. Things were finally getting back to normal, at least their kind of normal.
Olivia had been the only one paying attention to the newspaper the morning of Dean's release, the story buried on one of the back pages and actually pretty short, her curiosity somewhat peaked at the few words it did actually say. The body of a woman had unexplainably gone missing from the morgue, and nobody apparently knew how or why. By the time she'd gotten to the hospital to sign Dean's walking papers, she'd forgotten all about it though, it's importance totally lost on her.
As much as Dean had enjoyed her company, after ten days he was totally ready to haul ass out of the sterile building and spend the next few days in another dirty, crappy motel room, just as she had instructed him to. Yep, he was following all the rules this time. He also felt a little homesick, until he saw his most prized possession waiting for him at the door, ready to take him to freedom. Sam opened the door for him as he climbed inside, the smell of the interior almost making his eyes water as he patted the dash and whispered 'Daddy's home' only loud enough for himself and the car to hear, or so he thought as Sam just shook his head and climbed behind the drivers seat. Dean tossed a wave in Olivia's direction as his brother started up the car and pulled away, the only good memory of the place left standing at the door behind them.
They drove in silence to the motel that Sam had been holed up in for the last few days, no longer needing to spend every moment of every day joined to his brother at the hip. Dean slowly climbed from the car, the effects of the traumas to his body still felt in various places. They told him he'd tire easily for a while, he'd have random aches and pains for no apparant reason, and warned him there was a good chance the arsenic would make his hair fall out. That last one really pissed him off, more then anything. Sam opened the door and Dean breezed right by him, flopping down on the nearest bed, kicking off his shoes, and preparing to nap the rest of the morning and afternoon away.
"Dean, are you ok? Maybe we shouldn't have left so soon?" Sam's concern was admirable, but unnecessary as his brother made it well known why he was doing what he was doing.
"Hey Sammy, can you keep it down? I need to get some sleep, I have a date with the lovely Dr. Olivia tonight, and don't you even try to stop me." There it was, the pout that made Sam bust out laughing.
"Dude, since when do you go out with smart chicks? I thought you liked them barely out of high school and dumber then dirt so they'll fall for all your crappy pick-up lines. You always said bra size was more important then IQ, didn't you?"
"That's not nice Sam. I need to properly thank her for saving my life, that's all. I just want to see if she's THAT kind of girl once before we head out, and if she's not, maybe I can convince her to try, just once."
"Dean, you're a pig."
"Thanks Sam, I love you too," he rolled over, buried his head under his pillow, and ignored every other word Sam had to say, falling asleep faster then even he thought he could.
He did sleep away the rest of the morning and afternoon, finally dragging his ass up at sometime around five. He'd showered, shaved himself for the first time in over two weeks, dressed, and was ready to head out by six. Grabbing his keys, he told his brother not to wait up for him, promised he'd call if he wasn't coming back when Sam practically handcuffed himself to his ankles, and strolled out the door. Sam finally fell asleep sometime after two am after Dean had called and checked in for the third time like a little kid, mostly at Sam's insistence, to tell him he wouldn't be back until sunrise. He heard the key in the door sometime after six, heard the squeaking and groaning of the springs of the bed next to him, the sounds of his brother getting comfortable, then nothing else.
"Dean? You ok?" He had to ask, he just couldn't let it go.
"Yeah Sammy, just tired." he mumbled, already half asleep.
"Have you slept?" Sam knew that would be his last question since he already had an idea exactly where this conversation was going.
"No. I was wrong Sam, she was THAT kind of girl. Shit she was…she just...aww, never mind. Good night Sam."
"Good morning Dean." They were both asleep almost instantly, finally safe, finally home.
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The call had come when they were both sound asleep, the gruff voice on the other end shocking Sam when he'd answered it, their father telling them to stop looking, stop following, and sending them to Indiana on some crazy hunt. Dean was back in full soldier mode, packing up their stuff and loading the car, listening to Sam just bitch the whole time. Neither brother noticed the small, black car in the corner of the lot with the overly tinted windows, nor felt the eyes that bore down on them as they made their escape.
She had been watching them since they'd checked in, following Dean everywhere he'd gone for the last couple days. She knew now that she'd picked the wrong brother, and wondered how she could have been so blind. He'd survived everything they'd put him through, everything. He was strong, smart, and she decided she no longer wanted Sam. No, now, she wanted Dean. She followed them as they left, staying far enough behind to go unnoticed. She didn't know when, but someday she'd make him hers. It was just a matter of time, and she had plenty of it.
