A/N: This is the first part of the episode 'Red Sky At Morning' (3x06). Feedback and criticism are appreciated. Thank you to all those who reviewed. Queries and suggestions can be given through reviews or PMs.
7 months, 20 days until damnation for Dean Winchester.
Red Sky At Morning (Part I)
Dean looked at his brother, who was sitting next to him on the passenger seat of his beloved car. They were currently on their way to their new case where a young woman had apparently drowned in her shower, which Dean was looking a bit too forward to helping. But Dean's mind was not on the case at the moment, it was on the bullet which was missing from the Colt and the uneasy silence of his little brother, Dean could almost smell the guilt in the car.
"So, I've been waiting since Maple Springs," he started, "You got something to tell me?"
Sam was silent for a second, pretending to be confused, "It's not your birthday," he stammered out, faux-innocence written all over his face.
Dean's grip on the wheel tightened as he tried to reign in his anger, "No," he said irritably.
"Happy Purim? Dude, I don't know, I have no idea what you're talking abou-"
Dean interrupted his brother angrily, "There's a bullet missing from the Colt!"
He saw his brother staring at him from the side of his eye, trying to think of some viable excuse or another smart-ass comment, "Wanna tell me how that happened, Sam?"
Sam looked away without speaking a word, Dean continued, "I know it wasn't me, so unless you were shooting at some incredibly evil cans," sarcasm dripped from each word he spoke.
"Dean-"
"You went after her, didn't you?" Dean finally exploded, "The crossroads demon, even after I told you not to!"
Sam simply shrugged, unconcerned, "Yeah, well."
Dean felt his temper rise at his brother's carefree attitude, "You could've gotten yourself killed!"
"I didn't," Sam replied resolutely.
"And you shot her," Dean continued, ignoring Sam.
"She was being a smart-ass," Sam defended.
Dean paused his tirade momentarily, thinking about the implications of Sam's reckless action. Could killing that demon bitch have somehow gotten him out of his deal? He didn't dare hope, but he so wanted it to be true. Truth be told, he was tired of living like this, always looking at the clock and counting down the days he had to breathe. He asked hesitantly, "So, what? Does that mean I'm out of my deal?"
Sam smiled tightly, his eyes were sad and angry, "Don't you think I might've mentioned that little fact?"
Dean looked away, the small amount of hope which had made the sudden, surpising appearance fading away and leaving him empty again, Sam continued, "Someone else holds the contract."
"Who?"
"She wouldn't say," Sam muttered, turning his head towards the window and looking out at the trees flashing by.
Dean felt his brother's helplessness, that silent anger which seemed to become his constant companion ever since Dean had made the deal. He knew it was guilt, Sam felt that Dean's incoming death was his fault and Dean could understand that. Even he had spent weeks questioning their father why he would put Dean through the living hell of guilt which his dad's deal had put him through. Now, he understood why but it didn't make him feel any less guiltier.
"Well, we should find out who," Dean said determinedly, "Of course, our best lead would be the crossroads demon, " his sarcasm irked Sam, who glared at him. He pretended to think for a second, "Oh, wait a minute."
"That's not funny, " Sam said silently.
"No, it's not! It was a stupid freaking risk and you shouldn't have taken it."
Sam stared at him angrily, finally losing his patience as well, "I shouldn't have taken it? You're my brother, Dean, and no matter what you say, I'm gonna save you and I'm sure as hell not gonna apologize for it."
Dean's only reply was to grit his teeth and turn the radio on louder. But inside, he felt the usual worry he always felt for his little brother, would Sam try and exchange his soul for Dean's? Dean didn't want his brother to do that, he wanted his brother to go back to Stanford and try to get back to the apple-pie life he had had before Dean dragged him through the crap-fest that was his life, but he knew that there was no turning back for Sam now.
No matter how much he tried to convince himself he had done it because he needed Sam's help to find dad, he knew deep inside he had done it purely due to his crippling fear of being left alone. Dean had always been lonely, he never made friends in school and he didn't consider his string of one-night stands to be anything remotely friendly. But even through all that, he still had his brother and when Sam went off to college, Dean understood the true meaning of having absolutely no one in his life. Sure, his dad loved him and was friendly to him to an extent, but in the last four years of their relationship, he and his dad didn't really work many cases together, both of them preferring to work alone.
His brother had to know that while Dean only had him, Sam sure as hell did have other options in life, he could leave the life behind if he wished to. But he knew now that was not going to happen, Sam was not going to leave this life, ever. His guilt would make him hunt for the rest of his life. Dean closed his eyes for a second, trying to get a hang of the situation, when did things become this screwed up for their family? His mom and dad were dead, he was going to hell and Sam was suicidal. He opened his eyes and stewed in a stony silence for the rest of the ride.
Bela Talbot was drunk as a skunk. She looked around the luxurious room of her resort blearily, she had come here to 'help' that old bat, Gert Case who was an even bigger bitch than Bela herself, she had collected her payment after lying to the lady that the case of her niece's drowning had been solved and she was planning to finally leave the bloody town the next morning after collecting the rest of the money. But somehow she had ended up deciding to have a celebratory drink which had soon become more than just one leading to her current situation; sitting on the floor, drunk, angry, and lost and reminiscing her younger years.
She tried to stand up but her vision blinked in and out of focus and her thoughts were loose as all hell, she promptly fell back down on the floor on her ass with a plop and a small hic arose from her throat. But no matter how much she drank, she never forgot those haunting nights. She could still see them as clearly as ever, still feel the ghost touch on her body, the dirt which seemed to cover her no matter what she did to wash it away.
She closed her eyes at the pain that memory still caused, but the pain she could handle, what she couldn't handle was the shame she felt. She had tried to stand up to him, that demon of a dad she had, but she quickly learned that was not an option, a few silent tears dripped down from her eyes as she continued to think of it. Bela rarely cried, and when she did, it was almost like she had forgotten how to. The tears just slid down her cheeks, while she made pathetic noises in the back of her throat. Some nights she drank, she could almost pass out without remembering a thing, those were the good nights. But some nights, her mind would decide to replay all the memories of her childhood, almost as if extracting a sadistic pleasure in tormenting her so.
Her father first began taking advantage of her when she was eleven, she remembered that night all too well, the night she lost her innocence and childhood. He had told her to lie still along with the threat of a beating with a belt if she made a squeak. She had obliged him wordlessly. Bela, unlike most people of her age, had maintained a childlike innocence leading to her not even knowing what sex was, all she knew was that it didn't feel good and it hurt like hell in the morning.
As she grew older, her mother would sometimes stand near her door and watch her father commit these acts with a callous smile on her face. Bela was a teenager by the time she realized what her father had been doing to her was wrong, both morally and legally. When she learned of this, the first thing she did was report it to the town police, but it didn't change a thing considering her father was one of the richest doctors in town with connections to a powerful organization of Britain. Everybody thought she was just a crazy 13-year-old trying to tarnish her rich and successful father's name and reputation out of spite. But her father was livid when he was informed of what Bela had tried to do, and her father's cruelty peaked.
She quickly burned that train of thought, that wasn't something she ever wanted to recall.
It was a few years after the whole fiasco when she was sitting alone in the park swing, contemplating killing herself like she had been for the past few years, it had almost become a pastime to her, cathartic even. That was when a seemingly innocent little girl in a white dress approached her and sat down next to her on the swings. In the beginning, the girl seemed to be friendly and just a normal kid but the conversation took a sudden turn when Bela realized the little girl seemed to know what her father had been doing to her, and that was the evening Bela took the decision she would regret for the entirety of the next decade of her life.
"I can take care of them for you," the little girl said, "Make them go away and never hurt you ever again."
The 16-year-old Bela looked at the girl trying to make sense of what she had implied, the girl was going to kill her parents, Bela realized with a jolt. She stared at the little girl, looking at her like she had gone crazy, but the girl just stared back. She turned away from her, looking at the empty park, she squinted as she thought she could discern a figure standing in the distance.
It was a woman with black hair wearing an overlarge black trench coat, she had never seen this woman around these parts, but what struck Bela the most about this mysterious woman was that even from such a large distance, she could make out the woman's almost glowing blue eyes. The woman looked directly at Bela and strangely enough, she felt a sudden calm envelope her, almost as if it was sucking the unhappiness and anger away, the woman gave a small imperceptible shake of her head before vanishing altogether.
Bela gulped and shook her head slightly, she was starting to hallucinate now. She looked sideways at the girl who was still staring at her, smiling a disturbing smile that creeped Bela out. Bela took a deep breath before asking, "But if they disappear, won't people suspect me?"
The girl smiled again, "You'll be far away from here by then"
"But how'll you do it, you're just a little girl?"
The girl smiled her sinister and unsettling smile again, "No, I'm not," she said before her eyes turned completely white almost like her irises had all but disappeared.
Bela stumbled away from the swing, her heart beating wildly, she wanted to scream but her voice caught in her throat, what kind of a monster had she been conversing with? But the girl seemed to be expecting this and reached out a hand and pulled her back down with surprising strength.
"What are you?" Bela whispered, her voice trembled.
"You can call me Lily, and I'm here to help you, Bela."
"No. No, you're not even human."
"That's just details," the creature said, still gripping her hand with that freakishly strong grip, "Now, just think about it, I'm offering you a way out of this life.
Bela stared at the creature, "It's not life, it's living hell," she said angrily, finally ripping her arm away from that iron grip.
The creature looked at her with that smile again and whispered, "Sweetie, you've no idea what Hell is."
Bela stared at the creature, Lily, she closed her eyes and thought about it to herself. She had been planning to kill herself for quite a while now but if she could get a shot at a normal life, why shouldn't she take it, it wasn't like her father and mother were saints, they were monsters in human form after all. Bela could feel the bruises in her back aching, where her father had hit her last night and the before, and the night before. Her father always hit her in the most strategic spots, where no one could see a thing but she could feel the pain for days, sometimes even weeks.
Lily continued to speak, "Think about it, is it even worth living like this, Bela? Being raped every day by the man who's supposed to protect you? Having no friends? No one to care about you? I'm giving you a chance to live your life to the fullest, for ten whole years."
"And then? What happens after ten years?" Bela questioned.
"We'll cross that bridge when we get to it," the creature answered simply.
Bela looked away from the creature again, forming a plan in her mind. She understood that this might not be the smartest decision she could take but ten years was a long time and Bela knew for a fact that she wasn't stupid, she would find a way to escape this somehow. Yes, that she could do. It was a huge risk, no doubt but she knew that she couldn't stand living this humiliating life much longer, it was only a matter of time till she snapped and either killed herself or killed her father and mother.
Her thoughts drifted to the creature which sat beside her, it was obviously not human, but that didn't necessarily mean anything except that it was just a different species maybe but deep inside she knew it had to be more, after all even she had heard the stories of the Devil striking up deals in which the wager was the soul of the human who was dealing. She shook her head away from these thoughts, she didn't have much of a choice right now.
Taking a deep breath, she looked at the creature and nodded resolutely, "Okay, I agree but I need you to do it before tonight. I cannot do this for a day more."
Without warning, the girl jumped from the swing and pressed her lips to Bela's. Bela was shocked at the action and couldn't do anything owing to her surprise, but as the creature kissed her harder, the stench of sulfur hit her nose bringing her back to her senses and pulling away quickly, "What was that?" she asked angrily.
"Sealing the deal," the creature said with a smirk before disappearing right in front of her eyes.
Bela opened her eyes as the memory faded, a few more tears slipping away. It had been 9 years, 4 months, and 16 days since she struck that deal with the demon on May 12th of 1998. The demon had managed to give her most of her father's money and told her to do whatever she wanted to, she had decided to leave her home country and travel to the States.
It was after coming here that she decided to learn more about her deal which had led to her discovering the supernatural, most of it was taught to her by Bobby Singer who was one of the few people she had come to trust a bit. She had stayed in his house for a few times when she needed to lay low, he was always polite to her and she could say she had formed a tentative bond with him which could've grown deeper if she wanted it to. But Bela knew she couldn't do that, because if she was being honest with herself, she saw in him the father she had always wanted.
She realized with a pang that she missed Bobby, they had grown apart about four years ago when she had left for Israel, in the Middle East to train herself in martial arts for three years. She had also tried to gain more information on her deal but couldn't find anything new. And after her return a year ago, she had started to work on her deal even more fervently. Since he didn't know about her past or her deal, she didn't want to meet him when she had just months just to live, she knew Bobby would jump to help her but she would only be putting his life in danger.
She sighed heavily, closed her eyes again, and leaned her head back on the side of her bed before taking another swig, willing herself to forget the fact that she had only 7 months and 13 days before she was damned to Hell for eternity.
Sheila Case had drowned in her shower, Sam was being hit on by a woman old enough to be their grandma and someone called Alex had either solved the case or had lied through his teeth. These were the thoughts running through Dean's mind as he was walking on the sidewalk by the harbor with his brother the next morning. He saw the sea and white cruisers, shining clearly in the morning sunlight, it looked beautiful but the dark, brooding part of him wondered whether he would face such seas of fire in Hell.
He gave his head a shake as if to clear his dark thoughts away and decided it was about time they get cracking on the case, whether or not this enigma called Alex would help them or not, "What a crazy old broad," he said aloud, clearly referring to the old woman they had interviewed. Gert Case, Sheila Case's aunt, had seemed more interested in Sam than the case.
"Why? Because she believes in ghosts?" Sam questioned skeptically but smiled all the same.
Dean gave a laugh, "Look at you, sticking up for your girlfriend. You cougar hound."
"Bite me."
"Not if she bites you first," he smirked, before moving onto the more pressing matter, "So, who's this Alex? We got a new player in town?"
Sam shrugged, "Doesn't matter, doesn't change our job in the slightest."
Dean didn't agree with Sam, having another hunter handling the same case always made things more complicated for them, Gordon Walker being the best example, but he let it pass, "So, we're thinking ghost ship, right?" he desperately hoped Sam had done some research before coming here.
"Yeah, and it's not the first one being sighted around here either."
"Really?"
"Every 37 years, like clockwork, reports of a vanishing, three-mast clipper ship out in the bay. And every 37 years, a rash of weirdo, dry-land drownings," Sam said.
Dean caught onto the meaning of that at once, "So, whatever's happening here, it's just getting started."
"Yeah."
"What's the lore?" Dean questioned.
Sam exhaled before answering, "Well, there are reports of old wrecks sighted all over the world. The SS Violet, The Griffin, The Flying Dutchman, almost all of them being, uh, death omens."
Dean tried to wrap his around the idea of a ship acting as a death omen, he and Sam had solved a case with the spirit of the murdered woman acting as a death omen, so this wasn't very surprising he supposed, "So, what happens? You see this ship, a few hours later, you pucker up and kiss your ass goodbye?"
"Yeah, Basically."
"So, what's the next step?"
"We gotta ID the boat," Sam said with a slight smile.
"Well, shouldn't be too hard. I mean, how many 3 mast clipper ships must've wrecked off the coast?" Dean said optimistically.
Sam snorted and smirked at him, "I checked that as well, try 150."
Dean stared at his brother. Who was he kidding? They were the freaking Winchesters, when were things ever easy for them?
"Wow," he said aloud.
"Yeah," Sam said knowingly.
"For once, I'd like a simple freaking salt-and-burn instead of our usual freakshow."
Sam just nodded and smiled ironically. They walked in comfortable silence for the rest of the way and climbed up from the sidewalk to where the car was parked. Except the shiny, black Impala wasn't there anymore. Dean could at once feel his panic growing as it always did when it came to his car. He paused as he reached the spot where he had parked the car and looked around, desperately trying to reign in the desire to shout and pull at his hair. He took a deep calming breath, and gestured with his arms as he spoke, "This is where we parked the car, right?" he looked around again.
"I thought so," he heard Sam say behind him, his voice a tad unsure.
"Where's my car?" Dean asked, a second away from full-blown panic.
Sam took a glance at their surroundings and frowned slightly, "Did you feed the meter?" he asked, way too calmly in Dean's opinion.
"Yes, I fed the meter," Dean's calm facade ended abruptly as the panic won over, "Sam, where's my car? SOMEBODY STOLE MY CAR!"
Sam raised his hand in a calming motion, "Hey, hey, hey, calm down, Dean."
"I AM CALMED DOWN! Somebody stole my…" he was unable to finish his sentence as he felt a full-on panic attack, he leaned over and tried to take deep breaths. He could hear Sam's concerned voice trying to calm him down and running over to him to pat him on his back.
That was when he heard a familiar, female, British accented voice, the tone unmistakably mocking.
"The '67 Impala? Was that yours?"
Bela was extremely pissed off for multiple reasons when she angrily hung up on Gert Case the next morning. She had stormed out of the resort in which she was staying and walked out onto the pavement outside thinking of her woes, her current hungover state despite taking two tablets of aspirin, the constant overhanging worry about her deal, but most of it revolved around the presence of the Winchester brothers because of course, it was the Winchesters, she had known it the moment the cougar lady had described the officers from the "Sherrif's department" who had come to interview her, and now Bela was not getting the rest of her payment because of them.
She knew that having the Winchesters working this case of the ghost ship would complicate things greatly for her, she probably wouldn't be able to leave town until they actually solved it because those nitwits had actually told Gert that she was working with them as well. Bela highly doubted whether they even knew of her presence in the town, but she was going to have to tell them off, hopefully, they'd believe her and get out without causing any further trouble.
Bela was walking briskly in the direction of Gert's house, hoping to make her reconsider, with these thoughts in her head when she saw a familiar black car parked near the sidewalk. She paused in front of it and blinked to make sure she wasn't seeing things. She had found Dean Winchester's car, the same Chevy Impala 1967 that he had driven out of her apartment. This was a stroke of luck, she could now save herself the trouble of finding them. But as she stood near the car, a brilliant idea for revenge entered her mind and she smiled savagely. There was a good chance Dean might kill her for this but she was going to do it anyway.
She quickly took her lock picking kit out of her leather coat and started to work on the Impala's driver seat door, some passing pedestrians shot her suspicious looks, which vanished just as quickly when she smiled charmingly at them. The perks of being a good-looking woman, she thought to herself. The lock clicked open less than thirty seconds later and she immediately got inside and hot-wired the car. She whistled as the car's engine started with a loud roar, Dean sure did know how to take care of his car. It was older than she was and was still as smooth as her silver Audi TT Roadster. She quickly pulled the car over into a tow-away zone, cut the engine, and slammed the door behind her as she got out of the car.
She walked briskly to the spot where the car had been previously, she didn't want to miss Dean's mental breakdown. But by the time she got there, Dean seemed to be leaning over and trying to catch his breath. Bela felt a tiny amount of guilt as she stared at the elder Winchester who obviously thought his beloved car had been stolen by someone. She immediately felt angry with herself, she never felt guilty about any of the things she had done in the past, most of which, admittedly much worse than stealing a car. Why was she feeling this way about Dean Winchester's car now?
Her anger and guilt made her lash out at Dean a bit crueler than she had intended to do, "The '67 Impala? Was that yours?" she asked mockingly, schooling her features into one of nonchalance.
Both of them looked up at her, Dean's worry about his car showed on his face, in his panicked expression looking like that of a kicked puppy. She grit her teeth, feeling angrier at her treacherous feelings for putting that image in her head.
Sam looked at her with a curious expression, "Bela?"
She stopped in front of them and spoke to Dean, ignoring Sam, "I'm sorry. I had that car towed," she said, feigning remorselessness.
"You, what?" Dean nearly yelled.
"Well, it was in a tow-away zone," she said, with wide, innocent eyes.
"No, it wasn't!" Dean insisted.
"It was when I finished with it," she said, leaning closer.
Dean looked at her murderously, she knew he wanted to throttle her from the way he kept clenching and unclenching his hands.
"What the hell are you even doing here?" he asked rudely.
She just shrugged her shoulders, "A little yachting," she replied carelessly.
Sam, who had been silently staring at her, finally spoke up, "You're Alex," he concluded, "You're working with that old lady?"
"Gert's a dear old friend," she said, smiling serenely.
Sam nodded his head slowly, as though appraising her words, while Dean looked at her with equal parts suspicion and distrust, "Yeah, right. What's your angle?"
She didn't like the expression on his face, "There's no angle. There's a lot of lovely old women like Gert up and down the Eastern seaboard. I sell them charms, perform seances so they can commune with their dead cats-"
Dean interrupted her before she could say any further, "And let me guess, it's all a con. None of it's real," he smirked disdainfully at her.
She smirked back at him, but she was starting to get fed up with his righteous bullshit, "The comfort I provide them is very real," she said before turning to walk away from them.
"How do you even sleep at night, Bela?" she heard Dean ask behind her.
She turned around to face him with another smirk, "On silk sheets, rolling naked in money."
Her reply made Dean raise an eyebrow, and from his expression, he was obviously imagining it. She spoke again, a bit more harshly this time, "Thanks for telling Gert the case wasn't solved by the way."
Dean looked at her with a confused expression, "It isn't."
She clenched her teeth, "She didn't know that. Now, the old bag's stopped payment and she's demanding some real answers," she took a deep breath, "Look, just stay out of my way and don't cause any more trouble."
"Unlike you, Bela, we are actually going to put an end to this," he said smartly.
"Honestly, Dean, that attitude you're giving me has gotten quite old now."
He looked back at her with narrowed eyes, "You stole my car," he announced.
"I just parked it in the nearest tow-away zone," she nodded her head in the direction of his car
Dean looked at her with widened eyes, he had clearly assumed that his car had been towed away already, and she continued with a wide smile, "I'd get to it soon if I were you, wouldn't want them to tow the old piece of rust away. They might even find that arsenal in the trunk," she didn't really mean it when she called it a 'piece of rust' if she was being honest, she quite liked the car but he didn't need to know that.
Dean snarled at her and ran like the wind towards where she had pointed without a single glance back at either Sam or her. She watched him run with an amused expression, "Cute, but a bit of a drama queen, yeah?"
Sam looked at her, a bit startled but smiled, "Well, you did steal his precious Baby, technically. I'd be careful around him for a few days if I were you."
Bela just smirked at Sam before walking away from him but a small amount of that uneasy guilt still gnawed at her for some stupid reason.
Steve Warren drowning in his own bathtub had shaken both the Winchesters into action, they had stayed up nearly all night to try and ID the ship but came up with nothing. Dean was still majorly pissed off about what had happened to his car and he knew Sam was getting irritated with him. They drove and pulled over near the Warren brothers' house, more like a mansion, Dean thought personally. They were in their usual disguise as FBI agents.
They both walked out of the car and shut the doors, almost in sync, and started to walk towards Peter Warren looking as professional as possible. The Warren brother was apparently being interviewed by some journalist, except it wasn't just some journalist, Dean realized. His jaw dropped comically as he saw that it was Bela freaking Talbot who was conducting the interview.
Dean could see the surprise on Sam's face but he didn't say anything. Dean looked at Bela murderously, even though she couldn't even see him, before speaking, "Can I shoot her?"
Sam looked at Dean with a mostly irritated expression, "Dude, you gotta let that go."
"She stole my freakin' car, Sam!" Dean said.
"Yeah, and I got the point when you said it the last ten thousand times, Dean," Sam said, speaking to him slowly, as though with a toddler.
Dean glared at him and threw him his best bitchface before fastening his pace, leaving Sam struggling to catch up. He heard Sam huff in annoyance behind him, clearly not impressed with his childish behavior.
Sam caught up with him as he reached Peter Warren, he could hear him speaking now, "N-No, the police said that he drowned, but I don't und-understand how-"
Bela interrupted the Warren brother before he could continue, speaking in an American accent, "I am so sorry for your loss, Mr. Warren," she said in a soothing voice, "Now if you could just tell me one more time about the ship your brother saw."
Dean decided it was time for some payback for what she did to his car yesterday, he quickly strode over to Steve Warren, Sam on his heels. He caught Bela's hand which was holding her small microphone and lowered it, she looked at him in surprise, before it turned into anger. He tried his best not to smirk as he cut into the conversation, "Ma'am, I think this man's been through quite enough. You should go," he said professionally.
"I just have a few more questions," she said innocently, but Dean could see her smile faltering.
"Oh, I don't think so," he said firmly, he could almost hear Sam's eyes rolling behind him
Bela glowered at Dean before turning back to the confused and grief-stricken Warren brother, "Thank you for your time," she said, closing her small microphone and turned to glower at Dean again before walking away.
He smirked at her before turning to Mr. Warren and speaking loudly enough for Bela's retreating back to hear, "Sorry you had to deal with that, they're like roaches," he said, nearly shouting the last word, making Bela turn around to scowl at him for the third time.
Sam quickly took over the interview before Dean could make any more smart-ass comments, he put a comforting arm on the Warren brother's shoulder to steer him away from Dean and spoke, "So, uh, we heard you say your brother saw a ship," he said cautiously, his puppy-dog expression worked much better with girls than guys, Dean thought to himself.
"Yeah, that's right," Mr. Warren replied.
"Did he tell you what it looked like?" Dean asked directly, without any tact or comfort. He could see Sam look at him in exasperation.
"It was, uh….. it was like the old Yankee Clippers. A smuggling vessel. The rakish topsail, a barkentine rigging, Angel figurehead on the bow," he gestured with his arms as he spoke.
"That's a lot of detail for a ship your brother saw," Sam said, abandoning his puppy-dog facade now.
The man wasn't fazed by Sam's questioning. "My brother and I were night-diving. I saw the ship too."
Dean threw a look at Sam who nodded slightly. If Peter Warren saw the ship as well, there was a good chance his life could be in danger.
Before Dean could ask any further questions, Sam nudged him on the shoulder and nodded his head in the direction behind him. He turned around to see Bela Talbot talking with two police officers and pointing in their direction. It didn't take a genius to figure out what that meant.
Sam cleared his throat and spoke quickly, "Alright, we'll be in touch. Thank you," he said, patting Mr. Warren's arm and pulling Dean along with him.
Sam spoke again when they were a safe distance away, "Dude, you've got to stop antagonizing people like that," clearly referring to Bela.
Dean snorted loudly, "I don't antagonize people, she stole my car!"
Sam took a deep breath, as though trying to be patient, "Just, you know, try to be polite. Since she's working the same case as we are, we might cross paths again, Dean. And it doesn't make sense for us to fight needlessly."
Dean understood what Sam said, and unfortunately, his little brother was right, he couldn't 'accidentally' shoot her until they finished this case. He just shrugged, "Whatever."
He heard Sam sigh again before following him.
Bela was irritated with the Winchester brothers. They had ruined her interview with Peter Warren, but it didn't really matter, she had managed to get the relevant information anyway and now only ID'ing the ship, finding the actual culprit salting-and-burning his bones was left, which would be done by the Winchesters.
She walked over to where they had parked their car, on the open field near the Warrens' huge mansion, she could see them loading their shotguns with shells with their trunk popped up and their compartment full of arsenal visible. She had to admire the collection of weapons the Winchesters owned, from a variety of guns to about ten different types of swords and knives, all made of silver or iron, of course, thank you very much.
She stopped near them, "So, I see you got your 'precious Baby' back," she said, quoting Sam's words from the harbor.
Dean paused loading his shotgun and slowly turned to glare at Sam murderously, who looked like a deer caught in headlights of a monster truck, which was probably a good analogy for the situation.
"Really, Sam?" Dean asked when Sam didn't speak for a few seconds.
"Sorry?"
Dean shook his head irritably before turning to face Bela, "And you, you sure wanna come near me when I've got a loaded shotgun in my hands?"
"Now, now, mind your blood pressure," she said smoothly, making Dean narrow his eyes at her as threw his shotgun back in the trunk to face her. She continued before he could speak, "Why are you both even still here? You have enough to ID the boat, don't you?"
Dean looked taken aback by her question, looking at her like she had asked a ridiculous question. Sam, however, answered her questions without even turning to face her, "Actually, that guy back there saw the ship, which means his life could be in danger as well, we've gotta save him. You wanna help us?" he turned around and he seemed genuinely hopeful she might join them on their crusade. Did he really think she gave a damn about some random guy? Probably going to have to burst his bubble.
"Sweet of you to ask, but I'll pass. And you shouldn't be wasting your time either," she said, smiling mockingly at them.
Dean grit his teeth angrily and looked at her like she was a slug, which kinda made her want to punch him in his perfect teeth. But he spoke before she could act on it.
"You think this is funny, Bela? Someone dying is funny to you?"
She smiled as infuriatingly and condescendingly as she could muster, "He's cannon fodder," Dean blinked. She tried to make him see sense, "He can't be saved in time and you know it."
Sam had turned to face her with a disappointed look while she was speaking and sighed before walking away from his brother and her, shaking his head slightly as he went to the passenger side of the Impala.
Dean shook his head at her, "Well, unlike you, we've got souls so we're gonna try."
"Well, I'm actually going to find the ship and put a permanent end to it. But you have fun," she said, looking Dean right in the eye.
Her comment must've struck a nerve in him because he leaned into her personal space and looked at her with disgust written all over his eyes. She could see Sam looking at the two of them with a worried expression as he stood near the Impala.
"How'd you get like this huh, Bela?" his voice was hard, cold and nothing like it was when they usually bantered, she looked at him impassively, not allowing him to see how uncomfortable she was, but he wasn't done yet, "What? Did daddy not give you enough hugs or something?"
Her eyes snapped back to his, shocked into silence. How dare he? She could feel her entire body turn cold as though someone had doused her in icy water as he said those words. She was angry, furious even but somehow what caught her attention the most was how inexplicably hurt she felt when he said that. She realized that a small part of herself had almost come to view Dean Winchester as a acquaintance , and that part of her had been disappointed. Well, another important lesson on why she shouldn't trust anyone, She thought to herself cynically.
She quickly snapped her face back into an expressionless one, eyebrows, snap! Then the eyes and mouth, snap! And finally, relax the tense body posture.
The emotions barely registered on her expression and she simply stared at him with her perfect poker face when she replied, "I don't know, your daddy gave you enough?" Dean tried to smirk but she could see that he suspected something was off by her reaction.
She could no longer hold back the venom in her voice or expression when she continued, "Don't you dare look down your nose at me, you son of a bitch. You're no better than I am."
Dean looked taken aback by her sudden lack of etiquette and took a second before replying, "We help people."
"Come on," she said, snorting derisively, "You do this out of vengeance and obsession. You're a stone's throw away from being a serial killer."
Dean's eyes widened at her words and he turned to look at Sam who just stared at her with an oddly calculating expression which she didn't like too much.
She continued to speak, "Whereas, I, on the other hand, get paid to do a job and I do it. So, you tell me, Dean, which is healthier?"
Dean shook his head at her, thoroughly exasperated. Sam finally spoke, his expression no longer soft, "Bela, we need to save someone's life and if you can't help us, maybe you should, you know…." he left the rest of his sentence hanging but it was obvious he wanted her gone.
Dean, however, had no qualms about being polite and said, "He means you should get your ass out of here, Bela. We've got work to do."
"Yeah, you're 0 for two, bang-up job so far. Two thumbs, way, way up," she said sarcastically, before swaggering away from them. But Dean Winchester's expression of utter disgust and his comment about her father still echoed in her eyes and ears.
Dean sighed tiredly as he took another swig of his beer, his legs on the old wooden table in front of him, was it his fifth or sixth? He had no idea, he had lost count after the third. He wasn't totally drunk yet but was very close to his goal. Nightmares about Hell usually pervaded his dreams and tonight was especially bad, filled with images of being torn apart by hellhounds and Sam mourning over his dead body, which was why he was drinking himself to oblivion at 3 o'clock in the morning. He could hear Sam snoring softly as he slept on the worn-out mattress on the floor, which was technically his fault, he reminded himself. If he hadn't gone to get that night from Stanford two years ago, he would still be with his girlfriend, probably a lawyer or something by now.
His thoughts drifted to Peter Warren, whom they had failed to save tonight, they were too late and Dean knew that how much ever he might hate Bela Talbot, that she was right on the money this time. He sighed again as he ran his thumb along the mouth of the bottle, he never was a happy drunk so he didn't really know why he bothered to try and drink his problems away. It never worked.
Actually, he did know why, he reminded himself as he looked at the date on the digital alarm clock next to Sam. Drinking might not have made him happy but it certainly did help him forget some of his problems, mostly, the one problem he and Sam had been trying to solve for a while, the problem of having only 7 months and 19 days left to live on the face of Earth.
He shook his head and thought back to the case they were currently solving, they had no clue what the spirit's motive was or even who the spirit was. They only knew that the people who saw the three-mast clipper usually died soon after. They hadn't even started to work on ID'ing the ship which in itself might take a few days and they wouldn't be able to do a damn thing to stop the spirit from killing other people during that time. You can't even save yourself, how the hell are you gonna save everyone? he pushed those thoughts away from his head by cracking open yet another bottle. Here's to an awesome hangover in the morning, he thought to himself sarcastically before lifting the bottle to his mouth.
And boy, was he right. Dean opened his eyes blearily, looking at the big, red letters on the digital clock which told him it was 7 in the morning. His head was pounding like a drum on steroids, even the relatively silent sound of the cars on the road next to their abandoned house seemed to be as loud as a jet plane to his ears. He looked around him, the chair on which he had fallen asleep apparently did nothing for his back either.
He could hear the shower running upstairs, his brother was taking a bath. He shook his head slightly and decided to hunt for some Aspirin. But he didn't need to look far, Sam had already kept a glass of water and a tablet on the table in front of him. He chuckled to himself and mentally thanked his brother before swallowing the tablet dry and taking a sip of the water. Deciding to take a bath himself, he found another bathroom and entered the shower, stripping away his clothes and standing under the cool rain of the water.
By the time he was done, Sam was already at the table eating his breakfast of chicken salad, having started the research on the ship, Dean sat down next to him and took the cheeseburger Sam offered him. He bit his lip as he looked at the various newspaper clippings and books on ghost ships scattered across the table. He hated research, but he followed Sam's example, picked one up, and started leafing through it, looking for anything that might ring a bell.
A few hours and a pounding headache later, Dean leaned his back on the chair, thoroughly fed up with research for the day. He groaned loudly when he realized it had only been two hours. He heard Sam give a low chuckle and shake his head with amusement at Dean's laziness. Dean made a face at Sam before getting out of the uncomfortable chair and seating himself on the more comfortable sofa. He flipped his phone open and started to look through the previous victims, trying to find some pattern.
It had been barely five minutes since he sat down when there was a knock on their door. Both of them exchanged a look and grabbed their guns. Dean slammed his phone shut and slowly made his way to the door, he stood by the small grate-like peephole and cocked his gun before opening it an inch. To reveal Bela freaking Talbot of all people standing behind their door, holding a file of some sort with an expectant expression on her face.
Dean turned to look at Sam, who simply gestured at him to open the door, frowning at his hesitance, as he put his gun away. Dean opened the door with what he felt was his hundredth sigh of the day and let Bela in.
Bela entered and abruptly stopped as she looked at their research which was spread all over the table. She seemed to be in a better mood than she had been yesterday when she spoke, "Dear, god," she said slowly, "You're actually squatting?" she asked in disbelief, "Charming."
She turned to look at Dean, "So, how'd things go last night with Peter?" Dean just stared at her, completely exhausted with her attitude. She half-smirked, "That well, huh?"
He moved closer and stood next to her, "If you say I told you so, I swear to god I'm gonna start throwing punches."
She looked at him patronizingly, "Look, I think the three of us should have a heart to heart."
"That's assuming you have a heart," he shot back at her.
"Dean, please," she said, her voice nearly as tired as his. He ignored her and sat back on his chair by the table and laid his gun back on it, she continued, "I'm sorry about what I said before, okay?" Dean looked at her in surprise, he didn't know what he was expecting but that sure wasn't it.
She almost gave him a smile before continuing, "I come bearing gifts," she declared.
Dean looked at her skeptically while Sam looked at her hopefully and asked, "What do you mean?"
"I've ID'ed the ship," she proclaimed proudly, opening the ziplock on her folder. Sam exchanged an excited look with Dean, obviously overjoyed that their research had come to a premature end and they could now get down to actually saving people by destroying the spirit. But Dean wasn't convinced, he didn't trust Bela Talbot at all and he was still suspicious of her intentions but he was starting to realize they didn't have much of a choice at the moment. He sighed inwardly and decided to heed Sam's words from yesterday, he would give her the benefit of the doubt for the time being and even try to be civil to his best extent.
Bela interrupted his thoughts by slamming her folder on the table and started picking through it, she mouthed a small 'aha' as she pulled out the picture of an old three-mast clipper and showed it to them, "It's the Espirito Santo, an old merchant sailing vessel, with quite the colorful history."
Dean's interest was piqued and he forgot about being nasty to Bela as he stared attentively at her.
She continued to speak. "In 1859, a sailor was accused of treason. He was tried aboard ship in a Kangaroo court and hanged, he was 37," she finished her speech and looked expectantly at him and Sam.
"Sure didn't sound like an Australian vessel to me," Dean quipped and fell silent when no one else laughed. Bela shot him a withering look and turned to Sam who had been quietly assessing the new information.
"Which explains the 37-year old cycle," he said silently in that thoughtful manner of his.
Bela shot him an impressed look, "Aren't you a sharp tack?" Dean huffed indignantly to which Bela just smiled and Sam simply ignored.
"I've got a photo of him somewhere," she muttered while shuffling around in her folder and finally snagged it, "Here," she said, passing it over to Dean this time.
Dean looked at the photograph, it was of a young man dressed in a large coat which reached up to his feet. He had long hair which was tied behind his back in a ponytail as far as Dean could see. But Dean recognized the man in the photograph because he had seen this same man kill Peter Warren less than twelve hours ago by drowning his lungs in water.
He could see the recognition flash across Sam's features as well as he stared at it, "Isn't that the customer we saw last night?" Dean asked him.
Bela interrupted before Sam could answer, "You saw him?" she questioned.
"Yeah, that's him," Dean confirmed and suddenly remembered another detail about the figure, "Except he was missing a hand," he wracked his memory and he could see that figure from last night in his head now, the long dirty hair which was dripping water, the angry, lost look which most spirits had and the missing right hand as well.
"His right hand," she probably meant it as a question but it came out as a statement.
"How did you know that?" Dean asked slowly.
"The sailor's body was cremated but not before they cut his right hand off to make a Hand of Glory," she read, examining her notes.
Dean smirked at that, "A Hand of Glory? I think I got one of those at the end of my Thai massage last week," his joke fell flat again as Sam largely ignored it and Bela just stared at him with her lips pursed. His smirk turned into a frown at their reaction, or rather their lack of reaction. He kinda wanted to ask Sam what a damned Hand of Glory was, but for some strange reason, he didn't want to do that in front of Bela.
Sam, however, came to his rescue by explaining it anyway, "Dean, the right hand of a hanged man is a serious occult object, it's quite powerful."
"So they say," Bela added.
Dean finally relaxed as he realized they had something to salt-and-burn, "And officially counts as remains," he pitched in lastly. All of them raised their eyebrows at their Scooby gang moment and smirked simultaneously.
Sam continued to speak, "But it…. it still doesn't explain why the ghost is choosing these particular victims," Sam said looking at Bela and Dean hopefully for an explanation.
Bela gave Sam a look, "I'll tell you why. Who cares?" she shook her head at his and Sam's taken aback expressions, "Just find the hand, burn it and stop the bloody thing, Winchesters."
Dean finally decided to voice his suspicion at her over the top eagerness to stop the vengeful spirit, "I don't get it, why are you telling us all this?" he observed her reaction closely. The useful part about being a serial liar was that he could spot other liars easily too unless they were that good.
She simply smiled at him arrogantly again, "Because I know exactly where the hand is," she said softly,
"Where?" Dean asked immediately.
"At the Sea Pines Museum. It's a macabre bit of maritime history," she said, raising an eyebrow at Dean before continuing, "But I need help."
"What kind of help?" Sam asked, determinedly.
Her only answer was to smile brightly at the two of them, he just knew that this plan was going to be making him very uncomfortable.
Bela was nervous. Her grand heist had not been her original plan when she had come to this town, it had been to collect her money and get the hell out of here, but the Winchesters had shown up and that plan had gone up in flames. Initially, she had thought she could just make the Winchesters do her dirty work and take credit for it but when she heard about the Hand of Glory, she knew that she could make a fortune by selling that thing. It would fetch her half a million dollars at least. And now that she was executing her plan, she was starting to get cold feet, not only because she knew that her plan could fail and that could result in incarceration, which probably wouldn't be much of a hassle for her but also because she knew Dean would never trust her again for outright lying to him.
She didn't know why but that particular thought made her feel slightly guilty about the whole operation. She steeled herself by taking a deep breath, she didn't need friends, she never had friends in her entire life. She was the only person she could trust, besides, making friends when you have just 7 months and 12 days to live seemed quite redundant to her. But all the same, she did wish that she didn't have to do this to the Winchesters. For all their flaws, they had never physically harmed her or put her life in danger, or even showed any indication they wished to. She sighed to herself and pulled her mind away from those thoughts, the plan had already been set in motion, there was no undoing it now.
She tapped her foot impatiently as she realized she had been waiting for nearly half an hour for Dean to get ready, in the new 2-piece suit she had convinced him to buy. He was incredibly pissed at her for making him dress up in the so-called 'monkey suit'. Sam's amusement knew no bounds when he realized what Bela was making his brother do, but the amusement died out soon after when he was informed his date would be Gert Case and Dean had assured him there would be lots of pictures for him to reminisce later on, to which Sam had just flipped him off and sulked for the rest of day.
She gave her head a shake and got back to the issue at hand, how much time could someone possibly need to dress up in a suit? She finally sighed and called out to him, "What is taking so long?" she demanded impatiently, "Sam's already halfway there," she smirked to herself before continuing, "With his date."
"So not okay with this," Dean shouted from above.
She was starting to get exasperated with Dean, it was just a suit, how bad could he look in it? "What are you, a woman?" maybe hurting his manhood would get him down a bit quicker, "Come down, already."
She didn't know what she was expecting when Dean came down, a part of her expected him to stumble down uncomfortably looking weird and out of place in a posh tuxedo, another part of her expected him to walk down just wearing his usual leather jacket and start another argument with her but she definitely didn't expect Dean Winchester to show up looking like Bruce Wayne.
He looked… handsome, Bela realized with a jolt. Not hot, or macho, or anything like that, he just looked classically handsome, as though sculpted out of clay to mimic the perfection of a human face. Bela took a deep breath, she could feel herself turning red as she stared, she couldn't take her eyes off his well-sculpted jawline smattered with his one-day stubble, and the broad shoulders which looked even broader under the tight fit of his suit.
She finally tore her eyes away from his chest and looked at him, the action seemed to startle him and she could see him turning a bit pink. He quickly turned his eyes away from her, avoiding her gaze and looking anywhere but at her, Bela blushed deeper when she realized why he was embarrassed, he must've checked me out as well. She could feel a small glow in her chest at that thought, spreading through her body.
She frowned to herself immediately, why was she acting like a schoolgirl meeting her prom date, she was Bela Talbot now, the thief, not Abby, the teenager.
She finally turned to face him with a smirk on her face, hoping that it had been too dark for him to see the blush on her face which was unlikely considering she could still see the faint pink tinge on his face.
Dean's voice broke her out of her thoughts, "Alright, get it out. I look ridiculous," he declared, gesturing with his arms.
Bela widened her eyes at his self-deprecating comment, did he not look in a freaking mirror? Or was he just fishing for compliments from her? But as she looked at the discomfort and annoyance on his face, she was starting to guess it was the former.
She gave him a flirtatious smile, "Not exactly the word I'd use," she almost whispered.
Dean blinked and gave her a confused look, "What?"
She sighed and smirked at him this time, "You know when this is over, we should really have angry sex," she didn't really know what she would do if Dean really decided to take her up on her offer. Sure, she had sex after leaving her home country, but it was mostly for the job and to manipulate people, not because she wanted to. She could honestly say she never enjoyed sex and she hated it when the person in question was someone who wanted her to spend the night. It just felt constricting and claustrophobic to have another body that close to her
Bela knew it was her traumatic childhood experience that had contributed to this specific aversion of hers but she didn't really stop to care about it most of the time considering she had more important problems on her mind, like her deal. But at the moment, when she looked at Dean, a small part of her did wish she could feel the way other people did about sex.
Bela stopped her train of thought to observe Dean's reaction, he was opening and closing his mouth like a goldfish while looking torn between confusion and the urge to smile. He finally decided to fold his arms across his chest and glare at her but the smile threatening to form on his lips made it lack the usual intensity of his glare, "Don't objectify me."
She smiled even wider at his reaction, Cute, she thought to herself with a slight smirk. Dean unfolded his arms and nodded at the door, "Let's go."
Dean pulled the Impala over to one of the reserved parking spots and looked over at Bela for confirmation, he didn't exactly want his car to be towed away for real. He paused as he looked at her, she was staring out of the windshield with a vacant expression, her thoughts clearly elsewhere. Her cheeks still had a pink tinge to them, her lips were bright red and full, and that black dress she was wearing showed off a generous amount of her cleavage. Dean looked away from her, frowning to himself. He knew Bela Talbot was hot when he first met her, but he didn't know she was beautiful.
That's what disturbed him about her appearance, she wasn't hot in that dress, she looked beautiful, and Dean didn't even know there was a difference between the two. Dean shook his head at his cheesy vocabulary and absentmindedly popped a piece of gum into his mouth. He turned to speak to her again, "Hey, Major Tom to ground control. Anyone in there?" he asked, snapping his fingers loudly right in front of her eyes.
She jumped out of her reverie with a small squeak and glared at him. He just shook his head and got out of the car, Bela following behind him. She caught up to him as he reached the large stone steps of the grand museum and they made their way inside together, their hands linked at the elbows. Bela leaned slightly into his shoulder as they made their way up the stairs and Dean found his heart beating at a strangely comfortable rhythm as she did so.
She stopped at the counter to show their passes to the guard, he looked around the room, trying to get a sense of how strong the security systems were. Spoiler alert, it was very strong, judging by the multiple CCTV cameras set up around the room, they would need to disable those first before moving onto the actual heist. He chewed on his gum as he tried to figure out the best way to steal that Hand of Glory without being caught by anyone and moved away from Bela. Sam would have to get into the room to where all this was connected and disable it.
He gave a low chuckle at the thought of Sam dancing with his 'date'. It was one of the things he could thank Bela for. He was pulling his phone out to take a picture for when he would see them when Bela spoke behind him, her voice hushed but annoyed, "Are you seriously chewing gum right now, Winchester?"
Dean looked at her like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar and tried to smile at her, she huffed out an impatient breath, "Try to behave as if you've lived this life before, okay?" her accent came out sharper than usual.
Dean shrugged and looked around for someplace he could stick the gum and rejoiced mentally when he found a huge ornamental silver bowl. He walked over to it, pretending to whistle, and quietly stuck his hand into his mouth and pulled out the piece of gum, sticking it on the side of the bowl.
He looked at Bela and smiled, who gave him the biggest eye roll he'd ever received. For a second, he wondered whether her eyeballs would just roll into her brain and she'd become blind, but no such luck. She opened her eyes again and gestured impatiently with her arm to follow him.
He joined her, "So, what's your plan about these cameras huh?" he questioned.
She stopped to give him a disbelieving glare, "Are you serious? Did you not do any research at all about the museum?" when Dean just stared at her with a confused expression, she snorted, "The museum is being relocated to San Diego and most of the items will be sold off tonight, to different museums across the world, including the Hand of Glory. So, stop worrying about unnecessary obstacles, and let's go."
"Woah, woah! You're telling me we got just one shot at this? And you're telling me this now?!" Dean whispered loudly.
"Unfortunately, I made the mistake of thinking you and your brother would've done at least some research in the six hours between afternoon and the commencement of our heist," she bit back before marching forward.
He had to admit he was impressed by Bela's practicality, she had covered all required bases but it didn't stop him from being pissed at her. He was about to follow her when he heard the voice of Gert Case behind him. He turned back eagerly.
"This will get their tongues wagging, eh, my Adonis?" she asked. She was holding Sam's hand with lust gleaming in her eyes as she looked him up and down.
Dean nearly choked as he tried to reign in his laughter and he could see a smile threatening to form over Bela's face as well. Sam seemed to be struggling to find a reply.
"Okay, just remember that we're here on business," he said quietly.
But that didn't deter Gert Case in the slightest, "Ooh, but sometimes business can be pleasure, huh?" she asked, running her free hand over Sam's chest.
Sam visibly squirmed as he answered, "Right," he said tightly.
Dean wanted to see more of his brother's and that cougar's interaction but Bela started pulling at his arm slightly. She nodded her head towards the counter near the bar, clearly wanting to sit there and discuss how to go about the heist. Dean sighed and walked with her towards the counter and Bela sat down. Dean just grabbed a glass of champagne from one of the waiters passing by and leaned back against the counter.
Before they could speak, a very annoyed Sam walked up to them, minus his date, "Exactly how long do you expect me to entertain my date?" he asked, looking between the two of them.
Bela smirked at his question, "As long as it takes."
This time, Sam shifted his irritated gaze at Bela, but Dean cut in before he could say anything, "Look, there's security all over this place, alright? This is an uncrashable party without Gert's invitation, so," he tried to keep the smile out of his face, he really did, but judging from Sam's expression, he hadn't been all that successful at it.
Sam tilted his head slightly, "Two experienced hunters who have broken out of a high-security prison and a thief who has fooled even us. We can crash anything, Dean."
"Yeah, I know but this is easier and it's also a lot more entertaining, " he said with a guffaw, Bela gave him an approving nod and flashed him a winning smile, all teeth.
Sam let out a forced laugh, "You know, it's funny. Just yesterday you couldn't wait to shoot Bela and now you're all chummy-chummy with her. What happened, Dean?" Sam asked, clearly trying to rile both of them up.
Dean didn't rise to the bait, "Well, let's just say that we've bonded over our shared need to torment you, little brother. Isn't that right, Bela?" he turned to face her with a smirk.
She just grinned at him proudly. Dean turned to face Sam, the infuriating smile still on his face, who was looking murderously at the two of them.
Sam huffed out an angry breath, "You know there are limits to what I'll do right?"
"Oh look, he's playing hard to get, that's cute," he said, giving Sam a thump on his chest. Dean pulled Bela out of her seat and passed a glass of champagne to her, to which she smiled brightly at him and clinked their glasses together.
"I want all the details in the morning," he said to Sam as he passed him. He could almost feel Sam's glare on his back when he walked away.
He joined Bela and took her arm, "You know we still hate each other, right?"
She smirked, "Just as long as we're clear on that, Dean."