Chapter 37

I perched on the sill of the window while both Sam and Dean slept. I leaned back and thought about all that they had told me. I also thought about what they had not told me. Sam had informed me about the sickness using a person's fears to scare him to death. He was chuckling about Dean's moments when he was faced with the green flying monkeys from the movie The Wizard of Oz. But I knew that Dean had lied. There was no way that he was going to be afraid of a T.V. monster when he had the nightmares of Hell dogging his every step.

I saw when Dean stirred and he stared at me for a moment. I frowned at him in return. He slid off the bed and jerked his head to indicate that I should follow him. I went with him out of the room and we stopped at the car. He sat on the hood and perched next to him.

"What is it?" I asked.

"I lied to Sammy, and you know that I lied," he said.

"Well," I sighed. "What is it that you didn't want Sammy to know?"
Dean looked at the wall of the building ahead of us. The muscle in his jaw ticked slightly as it did whenever he debated with himself. I waited for him to continue.

"Do you think that my brother is evil?" Dean asked.

I tilted my head sideways and frowned. "No," I answered.

"Even though he has demon blood in him?" Dean pressed.

"No," I grasped his shoulder gently.

"I," he stopped.

"That's what you saw?" my voice was hushed.

"Well," Dean shook his head. "We were in the room, Sammy and me. And he turned into him."
"Into who?" I felt my brow knit tightly.

"Into the yellow eyed demon," he sighed. "He threw me across the room with demon strength, and then Sammy was shaking me. Apparently I had freaked out."

"What happened after that?" I rubbed his shoulder.

"I saw Lilith," Dean shuddered. "She was going on about Hell, and I felt my heart trying to stop. And that sheriff, he just died trying to kill me."

"But Sammy and Bobby saved you," I told him.

"I know," Dean's voice quavered with choked emotion. "But I can see it in him."
"It's your brother," I assured him. "Sam is still the same as he ever was."
"No," Dean shook his head. "No, he's not."
"Yes he is," I insisted. "You can't do this without your brother. You have to tell him what happened in Hell."

"I can't," Dean began to take shallow breaths.

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and pulled his head under my chin.

"He'll not judge you," I whispered.

"How could he not?" Dean choked. "Not even you know what happened in Hell."

I tilted my head back and saw the night sky overhead. There was no easy way to get around what I had to tell him.

"Hell is not a good place for anyone to be in," I said. "It's designed to break the spirit of those who are condemned to it, and they are very good at breaking spirits."

Dean kept perfectly still but he didn't pull away from me. I took this to be a good sign.

"It would have been especially hard on you," I murmured. "They would go after the things that make you vulnerable. The things that make you what you are and attack them firmly."

"It was hard," Dean whispered. "I don't want to remember. I don't want Sammy to know."

"Now you know how he felt," I told him. "He didn't want you to look at him like he was some monster."

"You always do that," he muttered.

"What?" I smiled.

"Turn everything around," he sighed. He straightened and I released him. "But it's still not going to make me sleep better."

"Not until you tell the person closest to you," I nodded.

"Where did you learn that?" Dean scowled.

I grinned widely. "Well," I sighed. "I've been around for a while, and there are just times when a critter is bored."
Dean's eyebrows shot up at my faux southern drawl. I continued grinning at him and he shook his head.

"What did you do?" Dean asked.

"I watched Oprah," I told him.

He glared at me.

"Don't look at me like that," I quipped. "You watch Oprah."

"Shh," he said. "I've never actually admitted that one."

"Uh huh," I nodded.

"So," he sighed.
"So," I said.

"I'm not going to tell Sammy about this," he said.

"He's the closest person to you," I made a face at him. "You have to tell him."

"What about you?" he asked.
"I don't count," I replied. "Neither does Bobby. You need to tell Sam."

Dean rested his arms on his legs and leaned forward. He sighed and the muscle in his jaw ticked again. The door opened and Sam emerged from the room.

"Dean?" he called.

"Now see there," Dean grumbled. "That's just not fair."

"What's not fair?" I asked.

"He leaves me all the time and I don't wake up," he explained. "I leave him and he wakes up."

I suppressed the laugh that threatened to erupt from my lips.

"What's going on?" Sam asked as he came nearer.

"We're discussing Kelsey's obsession with Oprah," Dean told him.

"What?" I objected.

"It's a sickness bro," Dean shook his head. "Maybe you can help her. We've got to stage an intervention if it gets any worse."

"Don't make me get that shovel," I warned.

"Aw, you love me," he teased.

"Not that much," I muttered.

I hopped off the car and returned to the room, the sounds of their laughter trailing me. I stopped inside of the doorway and I leaned against the wall. I knew what awaited them. All the others were waiting for was the beginning of the deaths to signal the breaking of the seal of Samhain. I had my orders as well and I had to follow them and not interfere.