A/N: The last scene of the previous chapter has been slightly restructured, please read it before continuing. Thank you to everyone who followed and reviewed. Feedback and criticism are welcomed. Suggestions and queries can be given through reviews or PM's. Special thanks to my friend, Marcus S Lazarus for editing this chapter.
Damsel in Distress (Part II)
Bela looked at Dean as they stood side by side and surveyed the security measures. She was feeling the nervousness pound loudly in her ears as she looked at the guards, but that wasn't the only thing she was feeling. She felt guilt as well, ever-present and trying to tell her not to break Dean Winchester's trust because he could be a potential ally in the future.
That voice made her want to betray Dean all the more.
"Private security?" she asked after a few moments of silence. She didn't think they were but it was always safe to have a second opinion, especially if that second opinion was from an experienced hunter.
Dean didn't even look at her as he answered, "I don't think so." His voice was deeper than usual as he tried to speak in a low voice. "Look at the way they're standing. They're pros. Probably State Troopers moonlighting," he said gesturing with his head.
Bela had to agree with Dean, the security was a bit tighter than she had anticipated but it wasn't a big deal, she had gotten out of worse situations. But they would need a plan to get upstairs, there would be no sneaking past these people.
"Posted at every door too," she said silently to Dean with a confirming nod.
"Yeah, I don't think we're just gonna be able to waltz upstairs," he said, almost voicing her earlier thought aloud. She could sense he was starting to get jittery with all the talk, he clearly wanted to burst upstairs and burn the hand.
She turned to look at him, "What do you suggest?" she did have a few plans but it was always best to enquire. She hoped Dean would have an easier-to-execute plan since her's would buy them only a couple of minutes at best. But to her dismay, Dean seemed lost as ever when asked him about his ideas.
"I'm... thinking," he said uncertainly, giving her a nervous smile and looking all around him.
"Don't strain yourself," she snarked, leaning to face him with a condescending expression, "Interesting how the legend is so much more than the man," she said, raising her eyebrows, she was being honest when she said that because the Winchesters were famous in their world, almost to the level of celebrities. So, to see that they were not the legends they were made out to be was slightly disappointing albeit comforting to her.
Dean glared at her, obviously offended by her comment. "You got any bright idea, I'm all ears," he said sarcastically.
She looked at him closely, time to try out her plan then.
"Okay," she said, before pretending to faint into his arms with a loud groan. To his credit, Dean did realize at once that she was enacting her plan and played along with it.
"Honey? Honey! Are you alright?" he shook her a bit and wrapped his arms around her waist. For a second, Bela felt strangely comfortable when she perceived the warmth of his hands, but she tamped out those thoughts immediately.
She could hear one of the guards hurrying over to them, judging by the sound of the hard boots on the wooden floorboards.
"What seems to be the trouble?" the guard questioned, sounding concerned but also slightly suspicious. Bela desperately hoped Dean would be able to sell the act convincingly enough. If he didn't, well, let's just say that she wasn't looking forward to punching her way out of a room full of State Troopers. But Dean didn't disappoint her this time.
"Uh, the Champagne. My wife-" Bela yelped indignantly when he said that. What the hell was wrong with him? Couldn't he have just said 'my girlfriend' or 'my date'? Why the hell did he have to make her his wife? Dean either ignored the slight tightening of her hand on his shoulder or just didn't care because he rambled on, "She's uh, a lightweight. Is there anywhere I could lay her till she gets her sea-legs back?"
The guard bought his story because the next thing she knew, she was being carried bridal style up the stairs and into an unused room. Dean set her down unceremoniously on an old couch, she nearly snarled at him but controlled her urge to do so.
Dean spoke to the guard as the latter started to leave the room. "You think she's a pain in the ass now? Try living with her," he said snippily, obviously meaning for her to hear it. Bela opened her eyes to glare at him balefully from her position, although she could only see the back of his head.
She sat back up slowly when the guard left, and Dean thanked him, shutting the door. Bela continued to glare at Dean who turned back to face her with an equally irritated expression on his face. He was about to open his mouth to say something but she beat him to it.
"Your wife, am I?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.
Dean smirked at her discomfort but it quickly vanished as his expression darkened again. "Hey, how about from next time, you give me a head-up with your plan, huh?" he said, throwing her purse at her ungraciously. She caught it easily.
She was the one who smirked this time. "I didn't want you thinking, you're not very good at that." Dean's glare hardened and he stared at her, trying to think of something to say, she could almost hear the wheels turning inside his head. She spoke before he got the chance to say whatever he was planning to. "Look at you, searching for a witty rejoinder?"
"Screw you," his attempt at snark fell flat.
"You're repeating yourself, sweetheart," Bela said in a sing-song voice.
Dean turned to leave, shaking his head as he went. Does he even know the room number? She decided to tell him anyway, they had only one shot at this and since she couldn't even go steal it herself, Dean would have to go it alone. The thought didn't make her feel particularly happy or secure. She hated not being in control of anything in which she was involved, but she realized trusting the Winchesters was her only option for the time being.
She spoke to him as he reached the door, "Room 235," he turned around to face her, "It's in a locked glass case wired for alarm. I'm sure there won't be a problem." She looked at him sternly.
He gave her a weak imitation of her voice and opened the door, giving her one last look before stepping out. Bela rolled her eyes at no one in particular, the elder Winchester was one of the most immature people she had ever met but she was depending on his skills right now.
Sam was not happy, he was angry, he was furious with his older brother and their temporary thieving accomplice who was making him 'entertain' his 'date' who was more like - and Sam wasn't trying to be an ageist here - a grandma to him. Sam knew he wouldn't hesitate to give his life for his brother but right now, he kinda wanted to shoot Dean in his balls.
Gert Case had made it her job to feel up every inch of his body while slow dancing and to his shame, his treacherous body was…. reacting to it. He knew if Dean saw him right now, he wouldn't hear the end of it till he died. He probably wouldn't stop the teasing for weeks anyway, Sam knew Dean must've already gotten in a picture by now. His thoughts were interrupted as Miss Case spoke to him.
"Where's Alex and your friend?" she asked him, stopping her hands for a second, "They're missing a great party."
"I'm sure uh, they're entertaining themselves," he cringed internally at his choice of words the moment he said them, as he imagined what it would sound like to someone like Gert Case who had hinting sex at him all night. And sure enough, she hooked onto those words right away.
"Ooh, naughty," she said, craning her head to look up at him. Sam smiled tightly and tilted his head in agreement. Suddenly, Sam was afraid that she might be right, what if that was indeed what his brother and Bela have been up to? He wouldn't put it past Dean to have sex with someone on the job and he definitely wouldn't put it past Bela either. He was shaken out of his thoughts when Miss Case spoke again.
"Then I guess we'll just have to entertain ourselves," Sam barely had a second to comprehend what those words meant before she grabbed his ass and pressed it. Sam gave a violent jump which he tried to cover with an awkward laugh.
"Y-you know, Mrs. Case-" he started to say but was cut off.
"Oh, oh, no," she chided.
"I'm sorry," he said as he realized his mistake, "Miss Case, I don't wanna give you the wrong idea-," he tried to explain but she interrupted him again
"Call me Gert," she whispered, leaning closer to him.
"Okay," he said, at a loss for words.
"You remind me of my late husband," she continued, leaning her head on his broad chest, "He was shy too, till we got below deck," he should've seen it coming but the sudden slap on his rear took him by surprise all the same, and he yelled out loud, "Woah!," the people dancing around him threw them curious looks. He smiled tightly, trying to act natural.
"Mhm, you're just firm all over," Gert Case commented as she leaned further into him and he clenched his jaw.
He was going to kill Bela and Dean.
Dean knelt down near the glass case and stared at the lock which was below, it was wired for alarm if he was to believe what Bela had said. He nodded slowly to himself as he stared intently at the metal casing, he could almost imagine the variety of wires and their loops when he did so.
He opened his eyes and took out his lock-picking kit, it was one of his prized possessions, he had found it in a motel room when he was just 16. It was old and used and so he had assumed it would be forgotten to whoever had left it there in the first place. He looked at it with a smile, nearly 12 years later, he still got an odd sense of nostalgia when he looked at it. The kit still looked as good as the day he had found it.
Shaking his thoughts away, he focused on the job at hand. Slowly picking apart the wires meant for alarm, it was like a puzzle to him, similar to the way he fixed cars. He could take apart most electronic devices with ease. Finally satisfied that it was over, he put his kit back into his tuxedo pocket and stared at his handiwork with a pleased smile before opening the glass and removing the Hand of Glory carefully, wrapping it in his handkerchief, and walking out of the room.
He smiled to himself again as he walked down the long hallway to the room where Bela was, the hand tucked safely into his coat pocket. His heart started beating a bit louder when he saw the guard who had brought them up walking away from their room. He decided to be polite, didn't need this guy on his bad side, after all, "Uh, hey," he said, "Thanks for taking care of my wife," he internally winced as he said those words, His wife, damn him for saying that in the first place.
The guard didn't even notice his discomfort, instead, he chortled and said, "Oh, she's being taken care of alright," before going down the hallway, shaking his head in what Dean assumed was laughter.
Dean stood there for a second, confused as all hell, what the hell was that about? He shook his head to clear his thoughts and started to walk again.
Bela walked around the room, feeling rather bored. Dean had been gone for about fifteen minutes now. She could only hope he wasn't messing anything up, she hadn't heard any alarm or such yet, so that was there. She looked around herself, the room where she was standing had a beautiful oak finish, giving it a very neat and sophisticated look. Most of the items in the room were of some antique value but nothing really caught her attention.
She looked at the wooden table, there were some interesting objects there. A golden telescope caught her eye, 18th century, she noted, almost lazily. She turned her gaze onto the other items sitting on the table and tilted her head in interest when she looked at the small, antique showpiece of an impossible ship-in-a-bottle. She picked it up gingerly, it reminded her of the gift Bobby had given her for her 17th birthday. She smiled nostalgically, and almost dropped it when she heard a sudden, sharp knock on the door.
Bela paused, was it Dean or someone else? The only other person who knew they were in this specific room was the guard, and Dean probably wouldn't knock anyway, he'd just barge right in like he owned the place.
Her suspicions were confirmed when the person outside spoke, "Sir? Ma'am? Is everything alright?" it was the guard who had shown them here. Bela swore underneath her breath, she was going to kick Dean's ass for making her do this. She quickly slid her sleeve off her shoulder and opened the door, breathing heavily, acting like she had been having a little too much fun in the room.
She smiled a wide and shy smile, the sort that usually made men swoon, as she looked out of the room, "Hi," she said, feigning awkwardness and wearing the widest smile she could muster.
The guard immediately turned his eyes down at the state of her undress and spoke to her feet, flustered, "Feeling better, I see?"
"Yes, much. Thank you," Bela said, still holding onto that wide, fake smile. It was starting to hurt her cheeks.
The guard lifted his head and tried to look into the room as he said, "So, if you're done with the room…" he trailed off but his message was clear.
Bela put on a show of embarrassment as she stuttered, "Well," she looked back into the room, pretending to look at someone and smile sultrily before turning back to the guard and continuing, "Not exactly, could we have a few more minutes?" she asked, a slight plead to her voice and an innocent, hopeful smile to really sell it.
"Uhm, yes, ma'am," he said, before quickly turning away. She closed the door quickly and gave out a loud moan, her expression that of utter boredom, but her voice suggested enough.
She heaved a sigh of relief as she heard the footsteps fade away behind the door. That hadn't gone as bad as she feared it might go. She might not even have to kick Dean's ass for it, all things considered.
She was putting her sleeve up to her shoulder when Dean burst into the room without any preamble, looking slightly worried. He stopped short when he saw what she was doing and gave her a curious look, raising his eyebrows slightly before asking, "Any trouble?"
"Nothing I couldn't handle," she said nonchalantly as she finally put her dress back in order. She turned to face him expectantly, "The hand?"
Dean slowly pulled it out of his coat and unwrapped the rotten, blackened Hand of Glory for which they had gone through all the struggle in the first place. She hoped her expression didn't show the hunger she felt when she looked at the foot, all she needed to do was sell it now. She took a deep breath and held out her hand casually, "May I?"
"Not a chance," Dean replied with a smirk as he started to wrap it back together.
Bela's heart raced a little, she needed to get that foot, "It might be a bit more inconspicuous in my purse," she didn't know why she even tried it, there was no Dean was gonna buy that.
"Nice try," he said, stuffing it back into his tuxedo.
"I'm just trying to help you out."
He smirked at her, "Sweetheart, I don't need your kinda help," he gave her an arrogant smile, daring her to disobey. She lifted a corner of her mouth in a sneer as a response.
She felt like kicking herself. Of course, Dean Winchester was not stupid enough to trust her! He might crack juvenile jokes and pretend to be a dumbass but he was a calculating, shrewd person. Dean himself might not know it, but he was a lot cleverer than he came across. She had two options here, she could either try to get it from him forcibly by using her extensive training which might result in her winning but it wasn't a guarantee. Dean was 6 feet tall, built with muscle, and could probably knock her out cold with a single punch. She was 5 inches shorter than him with agility and possibly superior reflexes being her only supposed advantage. Which meant she would have to go about this the smart way, the way of the thief rather than a robber.
She looked around the room and her eyes landed on the impossible bottle with the ship inside it, she smiled to herself as she worked out the inception of her plan.
Gert Case was absolutely smashed. Sam wasn't sure how he was to feel about it, on one hand, she was longer running her hands over him but on the other hand, she was leaning on his chest, with her eyes closed. He hoped she wouldn't fall asleep in this position, he was not looking forward to dumping her in the room because there was no way he was going to carry her to her car.
"Man, this is one long song," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else. But his 'date' was not as inebriated as he had hoped because she replied.
"I hope it never ends," she slurred against his chest. At least she didn't recognize the exasperated tone of his voice.
"How's the investigation going?" she asked him when he remained silent.
Sam took a deep breath before answering, "These things, they take time," Sam muttered, he was still trying to figure out a possible motive for the vengeful spirit. Sam liked solving mysteries and unlike Bela and his brother, he didn't like this enigma of a spirit whose modus-operandi was still unknown to them. Sam had a habit of keeping case files and the perfectionist in him couldn't bear the thought of leaving a column empty, he had decided to keep digging about the victims, but he hadn't found anything substantial yet.
That was why Gert's next sentence piqued his curiosity.
"People are talking about the Warren brothers," she started, Sam perked his ears, "Some think they had it coming, in a Biblical sort of way," Sam listened carefully to make sure he could make out her drunken garble. He felt his hunter radar start to blink as he took in the implications of what she just said.
"What do you mean?" Sam questioned, hoping Gert would miss the confrontational tone of his voice.
She looked surprised at his lack of knowledge, "Surely, you know about their father?"
"Uhm, no," Sam confessed hesitantly.
"Come here, let me whisper it to you," she said with a leer, pulling his head down to her height and placing her lips near his ear.
Sam fought the urge to pull back and leaned down, he only hoped whatever information he was about to get was useful. She rasped against his ear, "The people, they say that the Warren brothers' father did not die of natural causes," she paused for a dramatic effect before continuing, her lips were now near his earlobe. "They say that the brothers themselves killed their father for that inheritance."
Sam immediately pulled himself back up to his height, Gert Case seemed too drunk to mind and just laid her head back on his chest. He started to wonder about this new piece of information, it seemed as though the spirit had a taste for going after those who killed their father? He would need to know about Sheila Case to confirm his theory.
He ventured another question to Gert, "Miss Case, did Sheila have any sort, uhm….. tragedy in her life?" he tried to keep his tone normal.
Gert looked up at him in surprise. "Do you think they're connected? Sheila and the Warrens?" she seemed doubtful
"Yeah," he said reluctantly, "Yeah, we do, actually."
"Oh, well, she did have a car accident when she was young," she paused to think for a second before continuing. "Her parents were killed but she was lucky."
Sam nodded absently and Gert promptly put her head back on his chest. At least he knew the spirit's motive now, it seemed to be going after those who killed their family, whether intentionally or by accident but he was leaning towards the former. Now, he just needed to wait until Dean and Bela came back with the Hand of Glory so that they could burn it.
His phone suddenly started ringing rather loudly, he pulled it out, only to see that it was Dean.
"I have to take this, just a second, Miss Case," Sam said quickly to Gert, but she didn't seem to mind as he quickly steered her towards one of the chairs near the bar and dropped her there carefully. Her eyes were closed and she seemed to be half asleep.
Sam heaved a sigh of relief as he stepped out of the crowded hall to answer his phone, he had just kept it to ear and was about to speak but Dean didn't even wait for him to say anything.
"Dude, 5-0, they spotted us. We got the hand, disable the power and get the hell out of dodge," he hung up without another word. Sam stared at his phone anxiously, what the hell had happened to them? He swore under his breath before walking away to disable the electricity supply to the museum.
Dean looked out of the heavy wooden door of their room, down into the long hallway to make sure there were no guards before gesturing at Bela to join him. Bela looked up at him quickly, she had been standing near that table and admiring some ship in a bottle thingy that Dean had no idea about. She nodded and joined him, both of them stepped out of the room quietly and took the right turn at the end of the hallway, towards the stairs. Dean looked back to see a huge balcony at the other end, overlooking the back of the museum, he could see the tall, green trees with bushy branches which had grown high above the height of the building.
He was enjoying the view when Bela smacked into him from behind, she nearly fell but caught onto the lapels of his coat as she did so. Dean instinctually held out both of his arms and grabbed her waist, steadying her. He was about to ask her if she was feeling okay when he noticed her eyes and that's when his mouth went dry, and he took a sharp breath.
Dean couldn't look away as he stared into her eyes, they were so immensely, inexplicably green. But not the dark shade of green his eyes were, it was a lighter shade. And to his shame, he had to accept that it was stunningly pretty. It made him feel strangely at home because he was strongly reminded of his mother's eyes (and God, that sounded a lot creepier in his head than he meant it to!). His mind instantly conjured up pictures of bright, early morning sunlight falling on leaves in the woods for some reason. It was stupid of him to not tear his eyes away but those beautiful irises held him there, and she didn't look away either, just staring at him without turning away.
Dean felt a ghost itch over his chest and was surprised to see that both of her hands were resting over his coat, he looked back at her but the moment had passed and she was now glaring at him irritably.
"Do you plan to let me go anytime soon, Dean?" she asked, a slight edge to her voice and her eyes narrowed.
"I don't know, are you really a lightweight?" he snapped back, not his best reply or whatever but he was too embarrassed to think of anything else.
Bela instantly detached herself from him, yanking her body away quickly, smoothening her dress as she tried not to look at him. "I just slipped; can we just go now?" Her voice was still snappish. Dean was starting to get a little pissed off with her, she was the one who fell and he had just caught her. Okay, maybe he stared at her eyes like a creep but his intention was just to make sure didn't fall. He huffed an annoyed breath at her and was about to tell her what he thought of her reaction when they heard a voice behind them.
"Sir? Ma'am?"
Both of them turned around simultaneously to see the guard from earlier who had led them to their room standing at the opposite end of the hallway, looking at them with a suspicious expression. His eyes darted between the two of them curiously.
"We're just leaving," Dean said, moving in the direction of the hallway through which they had just entered. He didn't wait for the guard's reply.
Dean quickly caught Bela's hand and started to lead them back to their room, hoping against hope that the guard wouldn't follow them. But as they turned left, Dean's heart got another shock when he realized there were three other guards, knocking on their door. Before they could move away, one of the guards spotted them, narrowing his eyes as though he recognized them, and raised a hand. "Sir, we'd like to talk to you for a moment," the guard said aloud. The other security personnel around him were now looking at them as well.
Bela however wasn't as shocked as Dean and quickly started to pull him back towards the hallway leading to the balcony, ignoring the guards' voices behind them. Dean muttered to Bela silently as they continued to walk briskly, "We're screwed here, aren't we?"
Bela pursed her lips. "Pretty much," she said grimly.
Dean pulled his phone out and flipped it open as they walked, pressing on Sam's number which was already on auto-dial, "C'mon, Sammy," he muttered as it rang for several seconds, "Pick up the damn phone, Sasquatch."
Sam finally picked it up and Dean assumed he was about to continue his rant for dumping him with Gert but Dean cut in before he could say a word, "Dude, 5-0, they spotted us. We got the hand, disable the power as soon as you can and get the hell out of dodge," he hung up on Sam without waiting for a reply and nodded to Bela as they reached the balcony.
"Sir, please stop!"
The guard's loud shout behind made them both whirl around instantly, Dean mentally swore for not bringing any firearms with himself but he heaved a sigh of relief when he saw Bela fingering the Glock inside her black purse. He hoped she wouldn't kill anyone.
The guard who had led them to their room initially stood behind them, his hand on his gun holster, Dean could see the other guards running to join him from the end of the hallway.
Dean smiled charmingly before speaking, "Any problem?" he enquired, wrapping an arm around Bela's waist to piss her off. He hoped Sam would just shut the power down already.
The guard seemed confused at his action and frowned. "What are you still doing together?" he asked, his hand still resting on the gun.
It was Dean's turn to look confused now, he let out a short laugh before saying, "What do you mean?" he said nervously. "This is my….," he took a deep breath as he continued, "Wife. I don't understand what you're trying to say." He knew from Bela's expression and the way her nails dug into his back, that he had only further screwed things up.
The guard looked between them again, Dean wondered whether the guard himself was drunk because he had no idea why they were suspicious of him and Bela all of a sudden, but before he could say anything at all, the guard spoke again.
"Sir, I want you to remain still while we check you," he said, as the other guards caught up with him, "There has been a suspected theft at the museum and this is just a formality," he said stepping forward and holstering his gun back to where it was.
Dean was about to start protesting when Bela spoke, "Of course, we understand what you mean," she said with an exaggerated smile and batting her eyelashes. Dean wanted to throttle her but she looked at him from the side of her eye and raised a single eyebrow, giving a single, quick nod along with it. Dean understood what she meant to convey immediately, they were going to have to fight their way out of this one. He only hoped that Bela knew at least basic hand-to-hand combat.
The guard approached Dean slowly, his arms extended in a placating manner. Just as he was about to reach Dean, the lights went out around them with a loud pop, leaving them all in pitch darkness. And that was when the madness began.
Dean watched in fascination as Bela swung her foot in a perfect arc and crashed her heel against the temple of the guard next to him, knocking him unconscious instantly. He gaped at her for a moment, bug-eyed and shocked. What the hell was that? He was not expecting that at all, but he couldn't stay still for long as he realized the other three guards had sprung into action, reaching for their guns. Dean rushed forward and clocked his fist into the throat of the one nearest to him, the man gasped for breath comically as he fell onto his knees but Dean grabbed his head and smashed against the wall without wasting a second, knocking him out cold at once.
He looked up to see how Bela was doing but one of the guards rushed at him, pushing him onto the ground and pinning him underneath. Dean grunted as he held his hands in a defensive position to prevent himself from being choked and kneed the man in the groin, eliciting a muffled groan of pain from him. He extracted his elbow from underneath the man's body and knocked it into his temple, pushing him off. He didn't wait for the man to recover as Dean quickly got up, grabbing the guard's head and smacking into the floor, knocking him out as well.
He finally took a moment to catch his breath as could make out Bela in the darkness, she was standing next to the other guard she had knocked out, putting her heels back on. Dean stared at her dumbly for a few seconds before he splayed his arms out in frustration. "What the hell was that?!"
"I've been trained," Bela replied, raising an eyebrow as she stared calmly at his shocked expression, "Cut the theatrics, Dean. Let's get out of here before we have more incoming," she said, walking over to the balcony and checking the drop. She nodded to herself slowly and turned back to him, "C'mon," she spoke before jumping over the thick, cement railings.
Dean barely had a moment to react to her acrobatics as he heard the faint sound of pounding footsteps up the stairs, clearly indicating the presence of more guards. He ran over to the railing and looked down; the drop wasn't too steep, and the grass would cushion it nicely. He could see Bela waiting for him near the cover of the trees, gesturing at him impatiently to jump. He took a sharp intake of breath and jumped over, pulling his hands over his head as he rolled down the grass and came to a stop a few meters away from the building which was now cloaked in darkness.
He quickly got onto his feet and was joined by Bela on his side, he struggled to remove his bowtie and gave a growl of satisfaction as he finally managed to rip it off, unbuttoning his coat as well but leaving it on. They easily climbed over the compound wall of the museum and landed on the side, on the gritty path next to the building. Next to the small dirt road, Dean could see some kind of backwater, a few meters away, shining with an eerie calm under the bright full moon night. He guessed that it joined the sea somewhere up ahead. He finally heaved a sigh of relief and turned to look at Bela. She was staring at the water with a calm expression on her face, Dean was surprised to see that she was almost smiling a serene smile, so different from her usual condescending one.
He touched her elbow lightly, she gave a start and glared at him. Dean smirked and waved at her to move quickly. Just as they started walking, his phone started to ring and Dean could guess who it was. He answered, "Sam? Good job with the lights, man," he complimented.
"Yeah, wish I could say the same for your grand heist with Catwoman," Sam huffed at the other end. Dean rolled his eyes, but Sam continued. "I hope you got the damn thing, Dean. Don't tell me I got groped by Mrs. Havisham for nothing."
"Mrs. Havisham?" Dean questioned dumbly, he thought her name was Miss Case, but Sam was not in the mood for explaining.
"Dean," Sam said, thoroughly exasperated with him. Dean could almost hear his bitchface in his voice.
"Woah, okay, okay. Don't be a woman, Sammy," Dean grinned into the phone, "We got the….." he patted his coat, making sure the hand was there and suddenly stopped, his eyes widening comically. It wasn't there anymore, Dean realized with panic. He patted himself all over, he could see Bela looking at him suspiciously. Where the hell could it possibly go? Dean immediately replayed the events of the night after he got the hand, he remembered the way Bela had crashed into him, but her hands were on top of his jacket, besides, she was still with him. If she really wanted the hand for herself, she would've ditched him after their jump from the balcony.
Which meant he lost it while knocking those guards out or during his jump. Dean wracked his brains as tried to recall their fight. And, suddenly, he remembered the way one of the guards had pushed him onto the ground and he realized with a flash, that was when he lost it. This also meant there would be no getting the hand back. According to what Bela had told him, the museum was going to be selling it. Dean took a deep, defeated breath and exhaled before answering. He knew he was about to piss off two people and possibly be responsible for the death of someone as well, if the spirit felt up to it tonight.
"Dude," Dean started, he closed his eyes, bracing himself for the beat down he was about to receive from Sam and Bela. He sighed deeply again, "I think I lost it."
For a moment, there was a pin drop silence which ended, all too soon, when two voices exploded at him simultaneously.
"You, WHAT?" Bela screeched shrilly.
"What the HELL, Dean?" Sam yelled from the other side.
Dean tried to explain, but Sam gave a harsh breath and spoke, "You know what? Screw whatever you have to say," Dean could see that Sam was really angry with him, "Just meet me at our place. Also, I'm taking the car, Dean," he said, Dean was too shocked to reply for a moment, which Sam took advantage of, "You can walk back here with your new best friend," Sam said, sounding way too happy about it, before hanging up on Dean. Dean stared at his phone, feeling pissed off but a bit guilty, all the same, why people were venting their anger on Baby all of a sudden, he had no idea. "Son of a bitch, he took the damn car," he said before sighing and turning to face Bela, whom he knew would be beyond pissed that her precious plan had gone up in flames because of him.
He was right, if looks could kill, Dean would've died instantly from the death glare he was receiving from Bela, her hands on her waist. Dean smiled nervously as he ran his hands through his close-cropped hair and looked away awkwardly, "Uhm… guess I owe you an apology?"
"Oh, you guess?" she said sarcastically, she tilted her chin and pretended to think before angrily saying, "No, Dean. You owe me a Hand of Glory!"
"Would be my pleasure to give you one, sweetheart," he quipped with a short laugh which died out on seeing her expression. Apparently, it was the wrong thing to say because Bela narrowed her eyes as her glare intensified. He knew he shouldn't have said it but that was one of the disadvantages of having humor as a defense mechanism.
"Do you have a death wish, Dean?" she said with her all too wide smile. "Because I'd be happy to help you out, you know?"
He rolled his eyes. "Don't think I need your help for that," he muttered darkly, his mood plummeting as he was reminded of his demon deal again. Somehow, his adventure, or misadventure to be accurate, with Bela had temporarily made him forget about his looming death.
"What was that?" she questioned.
"It was nothing," he said flatly.
"Didn't sound that way to me."
"Okay, I'll tell you then," he started, "If you hadn't made me wear this ridiculous monkey suit, we probably wouldn't have lost the freaking hand in the first place," he declared, pointing an accusing finger at her.
She gave an unamused laugh and stared at him, "I took down two of those guys in this dress!"
"That's 'cause you're….. a…. a girl. And people hesitate before hitting girls," he finished lamely.
Bela gave him a bitchface so reminiscent of his own, he was taken aback for a second. "Sexist much, Dean?" She smiled a dangerous smile at him, and continued without allowing him a word edgewise, "Besides I offered to carry it in my purse. But you had trust issues," she looked at him challengingly.
"Bela, I mean this in the politest way possible, but the people who trust you, either have to be dumb or you've to be screwin' 'em."
Bela smiled patronizingly. "Precisely why you should've trusted me."
"Sweetheart, you didn't screw me yet," Dean smirked back at her.
She pursed her lips, "Either way, monkey suit or not, you fight like a woman, Mr. Macho Hunter."
"Ha! Look who's being sexist now, huh?"
Bela rolled her eyes in reply and gave a deep sigh, shaking her head at him but Dean could see that small smile on her face struggling to break through. Dean realized with a flash this was the first time in a very long time that he was enjoying a conversation with another person besides Sam, and it was Bela Talbot of all people. The irony of the fact that they were having such a conversation just minutes after he had screwed up wasn't lost on him. He nearly smiled himself as he watched the anger ebb away from her face and turn to him with a genuine smile, which disappeared as soon as she caught him staring.
She cleared her throat, "So, I think we should start walking now. Might take us a while to get to that dump you've made as your home," she snarked but Dean couldn't help but notice that it missed the usual venom when she said it.
"Well, not all of us are immoral, thieving skanks like you, Bela," he said smartly as they walked in the shadows of the path near the backwater.
"Aw, jealous that I work half as much as you do and earn ten times as much?"
"Shut up," he said immaturely before adding, "Dumbass."
"Douchebag."
"Asshat."
"Wanker."
Dean snorted, half laughter and half exasperation before he spoke, "And here I thought you were mature, Bela."
She gave an identical snort to the one Dean gave moments ago, "Please, Dean. Compared to you, even a toddler can be counted as mature."
Dean bowed his head in mock acceptance and the two of them fell into a comfortable silence as they walked together. Dean felt it was a pity, Bela might be a thief but talking to her was still fun. He broke the silence after a few seconds, "So, heard from your psychotic buyer yet?" he asked.
Bela turned to him with a smirk, "Is that concern in your voice, Dean?"
"Just wondering how many more days I've to put up with you."
All traces of humor instantly vanished from her features as she looked away from him when she answered in a small voice, "Not many more, I can guarantee you," she muttered, similar to how he had, a few minutes ago.
Dean frowned, what the hell was that supposed to mean? He decided not to dig deeper into whatever her problem was but after a few seconds, she replied to his earlier question anyway, "Actually, Luke's still pissed off with me, need to be careful for a few more days now," she said absentmindedly.
He nodded along with her as he glanced at her expression, "Well, the offer I made two weeks ago still stands," he said quietly.
She gave him a grateful smile and tactfully changed the topic, "So, why were Gordon and his goons baying for your blood?" she asked nonchalantly.
Dean was surprised she even knew about it, "How'd you know about Gordon?"
"Oh, he's putting your names out in certain hunter circles," she paused before continuing. "Just warning you to be careful, Gordon's all kinds of crazy. And you didn't answer my question."
"Well, let's just say that Sam and I don't have a very good history with him," he looked over at her, she was looking at the still water next to the path but clearly listening. "He managed to take me by surprise and tried to use me to lure Sam." It was an abridged version, leaving many holes in the story but it was the best one Dean could come up with.
"Clearly, it didn't work," she commented.
"No, I managed to warn him on call, we had a code, 'funky town'. Called the cops on him, now he's giving orders from inside, I guess," Dean finished thoughtfully.
"Actually, according to my sources, he broke out just a few days ago. So, watch out," she said quickly.
Dean stopped walking and looked at her closely, she stared back curiously. He was a bit agitated to know that Gordon would be on their tail again, but he was more surprised by Bela telling him this simple fact. He shook his head slightly before speaking, "I don't get it, why are you telling me all this, Bela?"
Bela rolled her eyes, "Is it too hard to believe that I don't want to see you die, Dean?"
"A bit, considering you don't do anything unless someone pays you to," they were still standing, staring at each other.
Bela smiled widely again, almost proud, "I don't disagree, I believe maintaining an alliance with you might be fruitful for me in the future."
Dean scoffed, "Should've guessed," he glanced, she was looking ahead impassively, the smile already gone from her features. A part of him doubted whether her answer was fully honest or not but he didn't push.
He turned towards her to make some sort of an immature joke to lighten the mood again, that's when he noticed that she had stopped moving and was staring at something over the water. Her face was contorted into a shocked expression and was paler than ever, he looked at the small backwater, he couldn't see anything.
"D-Dean."
Her voice wavered slightly and Dean found himself alarmed, Bela was not an easy person to scare. What could possibly scare her like that? Then it hit him! That she was seeing it, the Espirito Santo, the ghost ship which acted as a death omen. But why am I not seeing it as well?
He immediately moved closer to her and grabbed her arm, "Hey, hey! Snap out of it, Bela," he gave her a small shake, her head whipped around to face him, she was trying to maintain a neutral expression but the terror in her eyes was hard to forget. He spoke calmly but surely, "We're going to gank that son of a bitch, hand or no hand. You might be a humongous pain in my ass but we won't just let you die." He gave her a reassuring pat on her back which was bare and cold to touch.
Her eyes took on a determined look as well as he continued, "Let's regroup at our place with Sam. We need a new plan and we've only about two hours to execute it," he finished.
She nodded along with him and they set off walking at a faster pace, she stumbled over her heels a few times. Dean looked at her sideways and couldn't help but notice that she was shivering a bit. He glanced at his coat and sighed, he shook his head slightly, he didn't even know why he bothered to care if Bela was feeling cold or not but all the same, he took it off and gestured for her to take. She grabbed it from him and slipped it on wordlessly, they made the rest of the trip silently.
Dean barged into the abandoned house which they were using as their temporary residence without knocking or caring in the least that he might get shot. He saw Sam jump out of the seat in the corner of the house, his gun coming to point at him. He gave Dean a classic Sam Winchester bitchface before walking over to them.
"Dude, I need to talk to you," both of them said simultaneously, all three of them taken aback but slightly amused as Bela looked between Sam and him incredulously.
Dean spoke before Sam could interrupt him again. "Dude, we're in trouble," he started, he had Sam's attention now so he continued, "Bela saw the ship." Dean immediately noticed the slight change in Sam's demeanor as he said those words, he frowned at the reaction but he barreled on, "We need to track down the hand to whatever museum it will be in and burn that decayed piece of a dead human."
He gave Sam a pat and started to move towards his duffel, but stopped when he saw Sam was still staring at him and Bela. "Sam? We don't have time for one of your episodes, get your ass ready," he said, starting to get annoyed with his little brother.
"Dean-," Sam started to say but Dean interrupted him, speaking to Bela.
"Bela, which museum is it in? Can you find out?" he asked her.
"Yeah, in a minute," she nodded, taking her phone out and starting to type on it, she threw his coat onto a nearby chair. Her eyebrows knitted together in concentration.
"Dean-," Sam said again, in that serious voice he was using. Dean shot him a look, his irritation with Sam clearly visible on his as he turned back to the shells and cut him off again.
"Sam, if you don't wanna help us-" he started to say, not even looking at Sam as he started to load shells into his shotgun.
"DEAN!" Sam's voice had hit a yell now and both Bela and Dean looked up, surprised and confused with his anger.
He didn't spare a look at Bela as he focused on his brother. "Dean, I found the spirit's motive," he said slowly, seriously.
Dean glared at him incredulously, was his little brother serious? He clenched his teeth as he spoke, "Sam, I don't give a rat's ass about your little history lesson, we have a life to save and-"
"It kills people who have spilled their own family's blood," Sam said silently. Dean stopped mid-way in his reloading and looked at Sam, even Bela looked up from her phone. Dean could feel a certain chill in his back as he refused to look at Sam, he swallowed as he dropped his gun into his duffel and turned to Sam, "What did you say?" he asked him.
"His brother was the one who gave the order to hang him. They were Cain and Abel," Sam finished. Dean turned to look at Bela now, she had put her phone away and turned to face the window next to her, staring outside impassively. She sighed deeply before turning towards them with the same expression. Dean rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as he walked towards her.
"Is what he said true?" he said, silent anger vibrated in every syllable of his voice. Bela shook her head slowly but didn't answer him. Dean let out a mirthless laugh, "You know, I thought that you were an immoral, thieving bitch but a murderer too? You must be hitting some sort of a record." He slowed down as he approached her. "You killed your own family, Bela?" he grabbed her arm roughly and turned her to face him.
At once from her reaction, he knew that he had done something terribly wrong because she didn't look angry or furious or even irritated at him. She looked terrified at his action, her eyes went wide and her lips trembled but as soon as he saw it, she pulled her face back into her expressionless mask. It reminded strongly of what he did every morning as he looked into the mirror, as put on his game face for Sam. She made use of his shock to yank her arm away from his grasp and walked to one of the other windows, continuing to stare outside.
Dean grit his teeth as his jaw ticked visibly, he felt strangely betrayed somehow. The interaction he had with Bela in the museum and after had convinced that though she might have been a thief, she still had a better side to her, he had even considered her an acquaintance of sorts, and that part of him wished Sam never dug deeper into the spirit's history in the first place.
He slowly walked over to Bela. "So, who was it, huh?" he asked, his anger making his words more venomous. "Was it your little sister? Your parents, huh, Bela?"
She didn't even turn to face him as she stared into the darkness outside blankly when she whispered, "It's none of your business."
Dean clenched his jaw again. "You know what? I agree with you," he strode over to her and gave her a thump on her bare back, "Have a nice life, or whatever is left of it anyway," he gave her a sneer and walked away.
"You're just going to leave me here?" she looked scared but Dean didn't buy her act for a second, she only cared about herself after all.
"Absolutely, with no regrets." Sam squirmed from where he stood at his words but Dean was too angry to care, angry with himself for feeling guilty and angry with Bela for being friendly to him.
She sighed deeply before finally saying, "I need your help, Dean."
"Oh, I don't know about that. How could a couple of serial killers possibly help you, Bela?" he snarked insensitively.
Bela turned her pleading eyes onto him. "I agree, that was blowing it out of proportion, but I apologized for it, didn't I?" Her voice had taken on a desperate note now, "Besides, it doesn't warrant a death sentence, Dean."
Dean swallowed visibly, he could see Sam staring at them both from his corner. His eyes were serious but worried as he stared at them. Dean took a deep breath as though trying to be patient. "Why did you do it, Bela?" he asked her, turning his head to gauge her reaction.
She wet her lips with her tongue before closing her eyes with a resigned expression, "You wouldn't understand," she whispered, she smiled sadly before continuing, "No one did."
Dean turned fully to look at her, he could understand that sentiment. After all, no one understood why he sold his soul to save his brother, even Sam did nothing but screw him over about it. He hadn't even received a 'thank you'. He cleared his thoughts, shaking his head slightly and turning to face Bela, "Where's the hand being relocated to?" he asked gruffly.
Bela deflated at his question, her shoulders slumping tiredly as she said, "It's being moved to another country, the ship has already sailed, literally. There's no way to reach it unless we can teleport or something," she collapsed against the wall.
Dean nodded. "Well, that's that. We can't help you. C'mon, Sam."
Bela's angry eyes snapped onto his. "Fine, go away then. I'll do what I've always done, I'll deal with it myself. Leave some of the salt behind if you're feeling generous, hm?" she finished, taking her change of clothes with her and disappearing into the room upstairs to take her dress off, presumably.
Her words still rang in Dean's head, and his heart tightened as heard them. Mostly because it hit a little too close to home. He remembered the time when Sam was not in his life, when he had left for Stanford. How, initially before he got used to the loneliness, he'd sometimes absentmindedly crack jokes to only remember that Sam was not there in the passenger seat beside him, how he'd not use up all the hot water because Sam got pissed when he had to take cold baths. He looked at Sam from the corner of his eye, he was staring out of the window, his hands still clutching those pictures Bela had given them in the morning.
"Sam?" he called out to his brother, still not looking at him. "Is there any way to save her?"
Sam looked at him doubtfully, "I thought you just said-"
"Never mind what I said, just answer the damn question, Sam!"
Sam looked at him closely for a moment before he spoke, "Yeah, I think there is a way. There's no guarantee it will work but-"
Dean interrupted him again, "Get your ass ready, we're doing it."
Dean didn't know why he was doing this for her, but he knew it was the right thing to do.
Bela still didn't fully understand what had transpired between the brothers while she had gone upstairs to change into her jacket and new jeans, but when she had returned downstairs, they announced that they had put together a plan of sorts to save her. And judging by how Dean refused to look at her the entire walk to the graveyard while Sam explained his plan, it was him who had convinced Sam to help her in the first place. Sam's plan was simple, they were about to summon the spirit of the vengeful spirit's older brother in the hopes that they'd cancel each other out, that the vengeful spirit would finally get his revenge against his older brother and be at rest.
As they entered the creepy cemetery together, the full moon shining brightly above them on a cloudless night lit up the gravestones and the grass slightly. They quietly trudged their way over to the spot where the brother of the vengeful had been buried and Sam immediately set to work, setting up candles and other paraphernalia around the grave, occasionally reading some obscure words of Latin from his small notebook as he did so. Dean hovered near her, his hands tightly gripping his shotgun which was filled with shells of rock salt. They both kept a sharp lookout for the presence of the spirit. Bela was hoping against hope that they would be lucky enough to pull this off without any interference from the spirit.
She watched as Sam stepped back from the grave, having completed whatever setup had been required. He looked at her and Dean and nodded at them before taking another small notebook from his jacket and opening a marked page. Just as he was about to start reading, they watched in fascination as gray rain clouds covered the full moon completely, a strong wind started to blow around them. It was obvious to all of them that this was no ordinary storm, it was conjured up by an extremely pissed-off spirit.
Dean seemed to realize this as he called out to Sam, "Sam, I think you should start reading that!" he shouted, his eyes still moving around the cemetery, searching for the presence of the spirit.
Sam nodded in affirmation. "Aziel, Castiel, Lamisniel, Rabam, Erlei et Belam!" he started. The storm grew louder and more insistent, almost as though it was giving an adverse reaction to Sam's recitation, but none of that deterred Sam, "Ego vos coniuro, per Deo verum, per Deo vivum," The rest of the reading was lost in the sound of the rain falling heavily on them, hitting the ground and gravestones around it loudly. All three of them were drenched to the bone within seconds, their clothes doing little to stop the water from seeping through. A loud bolt of thunder sounded above them.
Bela instinctively flinched away from the general vicinity and Dean's voice immediately shouted, "Stay close!"
She was startled but moved closer to him, his shotgun was the best weapon they currently had after all. She stared at Dean who stared right back at her, although his face was set in stone, his eyes seemed to be trying to offer her some semblance of comfort. She couldn't help but recall their moment in the museum, how he had stared at her with that startled look in his eye. It was what stopped her from stealing that hand, she could've easily whisked it away from him but something in his eye and that warmth of his hands on her waist had stopped her from doing so.
She looked back at him, he was now once again checking around the cemetery, his dark blonde hair wet and sticking to his forehead. That's when she saw it, the spirit. It appeared behind him, looking at her murderously, Bela shouted, "Behind you!"
Dean's eyes widened and without a second thought, he threw the shotgun at her as he was flung away by the spirit. She pointed the shotgun filled with shells of rock salt at the dead sailor and fired it. The spirit roared in fury as it dissipated and vanished with a shower of water which made no ounce of difference to either of them considering they were all soaking wet already.
Dean gave her a thumbs up and a smirk from his position, clutching his back as he stood back up. Suddenly, his smile vanished as he ordered, "Get down!" the steel in his voice made her obey and she ducked at once. There was a bang of a pistol shot and followed by another roar by the spirit as it no doubt dissipated again.
Bela looked at Dean wearily, "Consecrated iron?" she asked in a casual voice.
"You bet," he said to her before turning to Sam. "Sammy, any chance you could speed this up?"
Sam threw him an annoyed bitchface before turning back to the book and shouting the final words of the summoning ritual. "Per hoc nomen et per hic per ius ionem, per tribius bovis!"
The effect of the completion was immediate as the storm and winds ceased and everything became much calmer than it had been a second ago. The three of them stood confused for a few moments, wondering whether it had ended already.
Their question was answered when the vengeful spirit appeared in front of them again but this time, it seemed to be staring at a distant spot away from them, its eyes narrowed with anger as it did so. A bright light appeared at the spot where it was staring at and as the light disappeared, a man stood there. It was the sailor's brother, Bela realized with a jolt, Sam's plan had worked after all.
The two brothers stared at each other, the elder brother's eyes were filled with remorse while the younger brother's eyes were filled with a vengeance as he spoke, "You hanged me!" the vengeful spirit said, "Your own brother!"
The elder brother looked at him apologetically. "I'm sorry, I was wrong!"
The vengeful spirit gave another loud roar and ran headfirst towards his brother's spirit, Bela and the Winchesters watched in amazement as the two brothers appeared to turn into water as they collided and disappeared in front of them. They looked at each other and heaved identical sighs of relief. A moment passed between them. Dean was the first to move, he walked towards her and held out his hand for his shotgun, Bela passed it to him with a grateful smile to which the elder Winchester just shrugged and walked away.
But Bela could've sworn that he smiled back at her for a second.
Castiel watched the brothers and the young woman leave the cemetery, currently invisible to the human eye in his default form of a multidimensional beam of light. He had come to this spot since he felt some power from his grace and some of his brothers' being used to summon a spirit. Although he usually didn't care what humans did, he had come to see this for himself since the ones using his grace were the Winchester brothers and Bela Talbot, people who were extremely crucial to Heaven's plans in one form or another.
He kept watching them until they left the cemetery and made their way to whatever residence they were staying in, then he once again traveled soundlessly to the Himalayas to where Uriel and the rest of his garrison hovered, waiting for revelation.
Dean groaned as he packed his duffel, they had slept late the previous night because of their nighttime jaunt to the cemetery to save Bela and Sam had insisted that Dean and he leave before daybreak owing to Dean's current state of displeasure. He tried to catch Sam's so that he could flash him a strong bitchface but couldn't get his attention. He was nearly all packed when the door swung open and Bela barged in wearing her usual leather jacket and carrying her purse.
She smiled widely at them and Dean rolled his eyes, Bela was back to normal now whatever that meant. "You boys should learn to lock your doors, anyone could just walk right in."
Dean was about to give a reply to that but Sam beat him to it, "Anyone just did," he said, his voice carrying a slightly teasing tone. Dean frowned at him, for reasons unknown, he didn't appreciate that.
"What the hell do you want?" he asked rudely, a bit disgruntled. Sam gave him a surprised frown before moving away to put some more items into his duffel.
Bela's smile faded slightly at his coldness, she replied in a business-like voice, "I've come to settle affairs." She took out two thick stacks of dollar bills and threw one to each of them, "I don't like owing people. Guess we're even now."
Dean looked at the wad of money in his hand, his eyes widened as he saw that their denomination, they were all 100 hundred dollar bills. "These real?" he questioned.
"As real as they can be," she replied smartly, "There's 50 grand in those two." When Dean continued to look at her cluelessly, she rolled her eyes, "As much as you would've gotten from those scratch tickets, with interest."
Dean's eyes widened and he looked at Sam who had stopped his packing to stare at Bela incredulously, Dean shook his head and laughed slightly before saying, "So, ponying up 50 grand is easier than a simple 'thank you'?"
"Absolutely," she said, raising her eyebrows.
"You're so damaged," he said, eyeing the cash in his hand.
"Takes one to know one," she replied. Dean looked up at her, silently agreeing with her statement. He sometimes did feel like her entire facade of being a heartless bitch was just that, a facade.
She smiled at him one last time before turning to leave, "Have a nice one, boys," she said before stepping out of the house and closing the door behind her.
Dean stared after her, trying to understand why he was suddenly squirming inside. He suddenly had the urge to follow her outside for no reason at all. He tamped it down for a few seconds before giving a sigh of frustration and walking towards the door. He heard Sam question him with a confused voice, "Dude, where are you going?"
Dean stopped at the door, his hand on the knob, "I'll be back in a second," he said hastily before stepping out quickly to avoid any more questions.
Dean walked briskly, he knew her car would be somewhere out here if she hadn't left yet. To his surprise, he found her standing near her Audi, the door was open but she just leaned against it, looking at the sunrise with a satisfied but sad expression on her face. The morning sun lit her face up, casting it in a golden glow, her eyes seemed to be glinting like emeralds.
He approached her slowly, "Hey," he called out.
She gave a violent jump and her hand traveled to her waist at once before she noticed that it was him. She gave him a violent bitchface and punched him on the shoulder slightly, "Do you have to give me a heart attack, Dean?"
"You need to have a heart for that in the first place," he quipped.
She shook her head in exasperation, "You used that one yesterday."
"Doesn't make it any less true," he said, turning away and looking at the rising sun.
She bowed her head sarcastically, looking at the sun again. There was a strangely comfortable silence for a few seconds before she spoke again, "I know you didn't come out all the way here to watch the sunrise with me. So, why exactly are you here?"
Dean smirked at her bluntness, he didn't know why he was here either but he couldn't possibly tell her that without coming off as either crazy or stoned. He sighed, eliciting a raised eyebrow from her as he spoke, "Look, I didn't mean what I said about your father that day, I don't even know if you remember it but I do know what it feels like to have a complicated relationship with a parent," he blurted out, Dean was shocked at himself more than anyone else, he hadn't planned on saying any such thing but he had to agree that her face of shock and hurt when he asked her about her dad did make him guilty to a degree, "I guess… I'm apologizing as well," he concluded, as he finally turned to look at her.
Bela was staring at him, her eyes soft and a genuine smile on her lips. "Oh, god, I hope this isn't a chick-flick moment," he said, letting out a comical groan and rolling his eyes excessively.
"It most certainly is," Bela replied, clearly trying to reduce the awkwardness of the situation, "You're finally embracing your feminine side, Dean," She smirked at him.
"Shut up, dumbass."
"Back at you, douchebag."
Dean leaned away from the car, effectively ending their short but awkward conversation, "So, I'm guessing you've some more 'items to procure for your unique clientele'. I'll see ya, Bela," he gave her a short salute and started to walk back to the house but her voice stopped him right in his tracks.
"Thank you, Dean," she called out, her voice heavy with hesitance.
He turned to face her with widened eyes, "Did you just-?" he couldn't believe that Bela Talbot had just said that, "Seriously? You're thanking me?"
She rolled her eyes, "Now, no need to burst an artery, it's just words."
"Wow, Bela. Was that the first time you thanked someone?"
"Screw you, Dean."
"Very Oscar Wide."
"It's Wilde, you simpleton."
"Whatever."
Bela let out a loud laugh, "You are something else, Winchester."
"I'm gonna take that as a compliment."
"Good, because that's the only one you're getting for the time being."
Dean smiled widely, his cheeks almost hurt since he hardly used those muscles in recent days. "Anyway, it was nice talking to you, Bela. I'll see ya around."
Bela returned his smile, "You too, Dean," she said sincerely before nodding him goodbye and getting inside her car. Dean watched as she closed the door and revved the engine, the car shot out of the small driveway with a silent purr following it. He stared after her for a few seconds, watching her till the car disappeared into a turn.
He wondered if this was how it felt to have friends. After a few more seconds of staring at the sunset, Dean slowly walked back into their current residence, a slight smile still playing on his lips as he opened the door and walked towards his bag, a smile which Sam didn't miss.
"Dude, what'd you run out there for?" Sam asked, confusion writ on his features.
"Nothing, just to... you know? To thank her for the money," he wanted to hit smack himself on his head for the hesitance and uncertainty in his voice but luckily for him, Sam seemed too sleepy to care.
"She should be thanking us, you know?" he grumbled, as he finished his packing and swung his bag onto his shoulder. He looked thoughtful for a second before saying, "But you gotta agree, she's got style."
Dean smirked at that, Bela Talbot definitely had style.
A/N: Next update might be a bit late. Currently having exams, please bear with me. Apologies for the inconvenience.