Sam stuffed his hands into his front pockets. Despite the stifling heat, he still wore a thick flannelette shirt beneath his hooded overcoat. To be truthful, he and Dean tended to hunt within and around the cooler states, so to say that he was unprepared for spending more than a few days in one of the hottest parts of the country would be an accurate assumption.

He leant his head back against the roof of the Impala and let out a deep sigh.

Two weeks had passed since their encounter with the Aswang and although Dean seemed far chirpier than he had been, it would still be another two weeks at least before his injuries would be completely healed. Though he didn't mind the 'small detour', the home-cooked meals and the friendly company, there was definitely something unnatural about the bayou that set him on edge. It was unusually quiet, and silence within the hunting community often meant trouble.

Sam drew in another deep breath and held it. He was beginning to grow impatient. He had told Dean that he was going out to get them some beer - the good kind - not the shit that they peddled in Thibodaux, and that he might be gone for a little while. That was over an hour ago. He hadn't expected his brother to be so compliant, to hand over his keys so easily, without bitching and moaning, but then again, when he had found his brother in the presence of the voodooiene's daughter, working amicably on the engine of her truck, the air around them didn't seem quite as thick as it originally had and he supposed that his brother was preoccupied. Tandy had quite the talent for doing that, for "preoccupying" his brother. It was part of the reason he hadn't opposed to this little sabbatical so much. With Dean distracted, Sam could be free to quench his thirst without his brothers growing suspicions, becoming stronger and more effective with each pull that he took from his demonic blood bag.

"Wow, Sam, two calls in twenty-four hours, you sure know how to keep a girl on her toes." Ruby announced, appearing before him in a black, leather jacket and matching boots.

Clearly, she didn't feel the heat either. Well, it was either that, or she was accustomed to it, at least, that was if you could even become accustomed to hellfire. Sam would have to ask Dean, after all, he would know.

"Shut up." He bit, his eyes filled with resentment. "I just need ... a little more." He continued, more quietly.

"You damn near drank me dry last night. What's going on?" She inquired, arching a thick brow.

Sam ran his fingers through his hair and they came away damp. "I don't know, to be honest, ever since we came here the cravings have ... intensified."

Ruby smirked. "Wait, this isn't because of that blonde little swamp dweller, is it?" She asked.

"You shut your damn mouth. This has nothing to do with Tandy. You leave her out of this."

When Dean had finally revealed the truth to him, about his time in Hell, it had shocked him, broken him. But what had shocked him further, as he later found out, was that he wasn't even the first person his brother had opened up to. Sam had known Dean his whole life, he understood that his brother could be explosive, stubborn and unwilling to divulge his feelings, but still, when he had found out that it was actually Tandy who had managed to pry him a part, well, he couldn't decide whether that made him jealous or relieved. Or maybe it was a little bit of both.

"Okay. Touchy." Ruby uttered, bringing Sam back into the present.

"It's not like that." Sam explained, and it wasn't, at least, he didn't think so. He liked Tandy, sure, he liked her for all the little reasons that made her so damn likable. She was quirky, charismatic. And yeah, she was an easy ten, exuding a quaint and other-worldly charm that you often found in the South, but she was like a sister to him, a close friend, and he had so very few of those these days that is was part of the reason he felt so protective of her. "It's more like, it's in the air. I don't know. There's something about this place, it's like ... I have a bad feeling something big is coming." He continued, less sure.

Ruby scoffed and slithered forward, her wide, brown eyes dark and sardonic. "Well, maybe that's because it is, Sam, or did you and your goof-ball of a brother forget about the whole apocalypse thing?"

"Yeah, well, the angels aren't talking. At least, not to me." He murmured.

"Oh, I'm sorry, but is that a twinge of hurt that I detect?" Ruby laughed.

Sam shrugged. "Maybe they're right to do so. I mean, I threw my chips in with you after all and you are a demon."

"Ouch. No need to be racist." Ruby quipped.

"Look, just promise me I'm doing the right thing here." Sam pleaded.

Ruby sighed and crossed her arms over her chest, inching closer to him. "Look, I can't tell you if it's the right thing, Sam, but if it's the only way that we're going to stop Lilith, then I'm all in and I need to know that you are, too."

She reached forward, without an invitation to do so and pressed her palm flat against his chest, glancing up at him beneath her full lashes.

"I am, just ... Not in that way." Sam said, taking her wrist into his palm and lowering it. He stepped backwards, uncomfortable.

"Oh my god. This is about that girl." Ruby scoffed.

Sam chuckled darkly. "Believe me, it isn't."

"Well if it was, I couldn't say that I blame you." She shrugged, closing the distance between them once more. "I caught a glimpse of her while I was snooping and she is fine with a capital "F"."

"Snooping?" Sam repeated coldly. Why was he not surprised? He narrowed his gaze. He could tell that she was trying to bait him, but right now, he couldn't have cared less. "That's nice, but I don't double dip." He said.

"Oh?" Ruby asked. "Oh." She mouthed, understanding dawning on her face. "Gotcha. Big brother Winchester has that covered. Well, now I'm beginning to understand this little 'extended stay' of yours. Dean has been hauling your ass across the country for weeks, I guess it makes sense that the only thing to stop him in his tracks would be long, blonde hair and an ass you could eat whipped cream off of."

Sam snorted. "I think we both could do with a little R and R." He admitted.

"Oh, baby, I couldn't agree more." Ruby breathed, drawing out a small blade from her back pocket. She ran the tip of the blade over the flesh on her wrist and raised it, grinning wickedly as blood slid down her forearm. "Now, drink up."

Without needing to be asked twice, Sam took Ruby's wrist into his hands and pressed his mouth over the gaping wound. Silently, he drank, and the whole world slipped away into an eternal and euphoric darkness.


Now that her truck was semi-functional again, thanks to Dean, Tandy could return the favour and resume healing him.

Tandy plucked a bandage, some herbs and a decorative bowl from the top shelf of her mama's prayer room and balanced them between her arms. Well, she called it a prayer room, but really, it was just a small closet space that contained an altar, a tribute to the Haitian loa. There was a crackling in the air then, like electricity, and goosebumps rose to the surface of her skin, causing her to shudder. Tandy glanced behind her, towards the altar and saw nothing but her mama's offerings and the dancing flames of the many candles that burned silently around them. Weird. She could have sworn she heard ... laughter?

Tandy grimaced.

Not today, Mr Shadow Man. Not today.

She crept down the hallway, determined to get as far away from the altar as possible and intended to collect a shirt from the room where the brothers were currently taking residence. She was surprised to find that it was kept considerably tidy, particularly for two grown men. Then again, travelling across the country slaying creatures probably meant that they didn't make themselves too comfortable wherever they stayed and Tandy winced at the thought because, well, for some strange reason, that actually kind of made her sad.

Tandy shook her head and snagged a grey undershirt from the unmade bed to the left, the only unkempt thing in the room, and smirked. Of course, this had to have been Dean's bed, and thus, Dean's shirt.

Tandy shuffled the paraphernalia in her arms and brought the shirt to her nose.

Yep. Definitely Dean's, she thought, breathing in the scent of Old Spice and gun powder.

Admittedly, she preferred it if Dean were clothed, or at least, she preferred it while she worked. Lately, she'd been mending the eldest Winchester alone, which was actually kind of nice because it gave them a chance to talk. As it turned out, Dean actually was a pretty decent guy, and she was surprised to find that maybe they weren't so different after all. Like her, he too had an obsessed papa, a brother he'd do anything for and a bad habit for biting off more than he could chew. These were all things that she could relate to. Perhaps what he had said by the shed was true; she did understand him. Maybe, if she gave him the chance, he could understand her, too. Aside from that, she was pleased with how well he was beginning to heal, although her elation often came with a feeling of dread. With Dean fixed up, there would be no more reason for them to stay.

Tandy peered out of the window; her gaze suddenly drawn to the darkening skies. Typically, she wouldn't be unperturbed by the image of the sun sinking into the horizon, but the fact that it was setting at three o'freakin' clock in the afternoon, and at an oddly accelerated pace, caused reason for concern.

Tandy gasped as the sun began to eclipse, right before her very eyes, plunging the whole world into complete and utter darkness. The moon appeared quickly in its place - large and blood red - and cast a lurid glow across the entire landscape.

The contents in her arms shattered to the floor around her as she was forced to her feet and the whole ground beneath her began to shake.


"And I beheld," Sam began, his long index finger trailing purposefully over the text, "when he had opened the sixth seal, and, lo, there was a great earthquake; and the sun became black as sackcloth of hair, and the moon became as blood."

"Another seal?" Dean wheezed.

"Another seal." Sam confirmed, sinking into a classical armchair.

In the aftermath of the earthquake, Sam had returned to Bonne Huere and he, Dean and Tandy had gathered in the sitting room to discuss its possible cause. There was no question about it. This was definitely a supernatural occurrence. Even the witches that resided within the French Quarter couldn't explain it. Her mama had phoned her from the bar immediately after it had happened and advised her that, although confused, thankfully, no one was injured.

"So, what's the deal with these seals?" Tandy asked, slumped over in her own armchair.

"Well, when I, uh ... when I started the torturing downstairs, I kind of, well, uh, started the apocalypse." Dean confessed.

"Oh." Tandy mouthed. "Well, at least it ain't rainin' frogs."

"Nope, just slaughtering them." Sam murmured, peering out of the window towards the dried-out pond. He held back the pleated curtains, illuminating the mass grave, and Tandy gasped.

"So, that case you were looking into last week, that warehouse full'a bodies to summon somethin' ... that was a seal too?" She asked.

Dean nodded, solemn. "Guess you're mama was right … sort of. Turns out it was a little bit of demons and angels all mixed in together."

"Huh. And there're sixty-six?" Tandy asked.

"Yes, well, sixty-six that are needed to open the cage to the devil, at least." Sam began. "But there could be hundreds more. The trouble is, we don't know which ones Lilith will choose to break, or even where to start looking." He finished, running his fingers across his cleanly shaven jaw.

Tandy frowned. "And your angel pallies are 'sposed to be helpin' ya find 'em?" She questioned.

"Supposed to be, yeah." Dean replied. "Haven't heard from them in weeks."

"Well, I may not be an expert on Christianity, but I do know voodoo. Maybe mama has somethin' in the library that could help. I mean, if your God exists, why can't hers?" Tandy contributed, rising to her feet.

Sam shrugged. "Couldn't hurt to look into."

"Need a hand?" Dean asked, clutching his ribs and attempting to stand.

"No, you just sit tight." Tandy said. "I'll be right back."

Tandy padded across the foyer and strode down the hall, hearing the old floorboards creak beneath her feet. Bonne Huere always felt so much larger when it was just her and her mama. Even with the boys hanging around, without her brothers and her papa there, the house felt empty, foreign.

Tandy entered the library and searched for what little books that they did have which may have been able to help them. What was strange, she found, was that the smell of rum lingered in the air and she froze, her eyes drawn to the far corner of the room. Not for the first time that day, she felt the hairs on the back of hair neck stand to attention. Her mama had quit smoking several years ago, but the ash tray that she had stowed away in the depths of the attic was clearly visible now, and in it, the butt of a cigar, still lit, smoldered silently.