DISCLAIMER: I own nothing
S1 EP16 SHADOWS
She hated costumes, it was official now. No one ever told her that this job came with a dress code, much less weekly outfits just to get to the scene of the crime. She pulled on the sleeve of her brown shirt. Now they were alarm company employees. She got out of the car, arms folded over her chest. Dean retrieved the toolbox from the trunk.
"All right, this is the place," Sam said. She was mad at him for the outfits, they were his idea. He'd owe her later for this. Even the sex they had the week before after having fun with the hillbilly rednecks didn't make up for this.
"You know," Dean said, slamming the trunk. "I've gotta say me, Dad, and Bridget did just fine without these stupid costumes. I feel like a high school drama dork," he smiled at his brother. "What was that play you did? What was it – Our Town. Yeah, you were good, so cute."
"Hey, I did plays in high school," Bridget argued.
"I bet you were cute too," Dean chimed.
"You guys wanna pull this off or not?" Sam asked.
"I'm just sayin', these outfits cost hard earned money."
"Whose?" Sam asked
"Ours," Dean said as they walked into the apartment building. "You think credit card fraud is easy?"
"Should you not being saying that out loud in the building?" Bridget asked him.
"Yea, good point," he said with a nod as they met with the land lady who was waiting outside the apartment for them.
"Thanks for letting us look around," Sam said to her.
"Well, the police said they were done with the place, so," she shrugged and moved further into the room. Dean shut the door behind them and noticed the chain lock on the door was broken. Bridget and him exchanged a glance and followed Sam and the landlady, dried blood spotted the carpet.
"You guys said you were with the alarm company?" the landlady asked, arms folded over her chest.
"That's right," Dean said.
"Well, no offense, but your alarm's about as useful as boobs on a man," she said.
"Well," Dean cleared his throat. "That's why we're here. To see what went wrong and stop it from happening again."
"No, ma'am, you found the body?" Bridget asked.
"Yeah."
"Right after it happened?"
"No," she shook her head. "A few days later. Meredith's work called – she hadn't shown up. I knocked on the door. That's when I noticed the smell."
"Any open windows?" asked Dean. "Any sign of a break in?"
"No, windows were locked, front door was bolted. Chain was on the door, we had to cut it to get in."
"And the alarm was still on?"
"Like I said," she huffed, rolling her eyes. "Bang up job your company's doing."
"Mmhmm," Dean nodded, ignoring her comments. He didn't work there anyway but he had to agree with her on that. "You see any overturned furniture, broken glass, signs of a struggle."
She shook her head. "Everything was in perfect condition – except Meredith."
"And what condition was Meredith in?" Bridget asked knowing she might regret it later when it was dinner time.
The lady paled at the memory, looking a little green. "Meredith was all over the place. In pieces. The guy who killed her must have been some kind of whackjob. But I tell you, if I didn't know better, I'd have said a wild animal did it."
The three exchanged a quick look and Sam spoke. "Ma'am, do you mind if we take some time? Give this place a once over?"
"Oh well, go right ahead. Knock yourself out," she said and left the room. Once she was gone Dean opened the toolbox and removed the EMF meter.
"So, a killer walks in and out of the apartment – no weapons, no prints, nothin'," he said.
"I'm tellin' you, the minute I found that article, I knew it was our kind of gig," Sam said.
"Can't say I had any pictures of this place but…," she shook her head. "It just feels wrong."
"What do you mean?"
"Hard to explain, but I just get this feeling that…I don't know, it's just a feeling and I can't explain it," she said and that was the truth. Ever since she heard the article and they walked in to this place she had this feeling that something was near, her necklace stayed warm around her neck, even the ring was warm.
The EMF meter started beeping frantically. "Well something was here," Dean nodded.
"So, you talked to the cops?" Sam asked.
"Uh, yeah," Dean smirked. "I talked to Amy a, uh, charming, perky officer of the law."
"Yeah?" Bridget rolled her eyes. "What did you find out?"
Dean got that far away dreamy look in his eyes, "Well, she's a Sagittarius. She loves tequila, I mean – wow. Oh, and she's got this little tattoo –."
Bridget smacked him upside the head, "Dean!" At least she knew where he was the other night when she and Sam took full benefit of having the room to themselves.
"What?" he blinked a few times and then seemed to remember the conversation they were on. "Yeah. Uh, nothin' we don't already know. Except for one thing they're keepin' out of the papers."
"That would be?" Sam asked.
"Meredith's heart was missing."
Sam blinked a few times, stunned. "Her heart?"
"Yeah, her heart," he repeated.
"So, what do you think did it to her?" Bridget questioned, itching at her arm. She wanted out of this damn suit.
"Well, the landlady said it looked like an animal attack. Maybe it was – werewolf?"
"No, no werewolf," Sam shook his head. "The lunar cycle's not right. Plus, if it was a creature, it would've left some kind of trace. It's probably a spirit."
Bridget was frowning at the drops of blood of the carpet, her eyes following from of drop to another. "See if you guys can find some masking tape?"
"Why?"
"I think I found something," she said. Dean tossed her a roll from the toolbox and she pulled a strip off, connecting the dots so to speak until she finished the symbol.
Sam looked at it, "Ever see that symbol before?"
"No," Dean shook his head.
"Me neither," Sam shook his head and looked at Bridget.
Her face was drawn tight in a frown, deep in thought and her hand was touching the chain and ring along her neck. "Bridget?" she didn't seem to hear him. "Bridget," he said louder and she blinked looking up at him. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," she said quietly.
"Have you seen this before?" Sam asked pointing at the symbol.
She stared back at it, deep in thought again, trying to remember. It looked familiar…but she couldn't pull from where. "No…no I haven't," she said. "I think we're done here though."
Bridget sat on the bed bent over her sketchbook hair falling her face in a dark waterfall, deeply in concentration on drawing. Dean had left half an hour before to do "research" at the bar Meredith worked at. In other words he was drinking and flirting with any pretty girl near him. She hadn't paid much attention but knew Sam was more than likely printing up research and digging through the books they "borrowed" from the library at the table across from her.
She was working the details out of the symbol. It was familiar, she'd seen it before. She'd drawn it before, months ago, around the same time she had the picture dream of the blonde dark eyed demon. They had to be connected and if they were…if they were it meant she was near the demon that killed Will. She'd been standing in the same room it had been. Her hand shook slightly as she finished the sketch of the symbol. She turned the pages in her book to the blonde dark eyed demon and gritted her teeth together. She would find her and she would kill her. Someway, somehow she'd kill her.
"Bridget," Sam said her name from right next to her. She hadn't even felt the bed move or heard him get up. He moved the hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "Are you okay?"
She nodded, "I'm just trying to figure this out…I've seen it before…I've drawn it before and I know it's connected to her."
Sam looked at the drawing and saw the sketch of the shadowy demon. "The dark eyed demon? The one that…" he paused, "killed Will?"
She nodded her head and closed the book and ran her fingers through her hair. "It's her, Sam, I know it is."
"We'll find her then and we'll get rid of her."
"No, we'll find her and I'll get to kill her," she corrected him looking him in the eye. "I get to do it this time. It's personal, Sam…you guys can kill the yellow eyed demon…it hurt you long before it hurt me."
"It killed your brother and his family," he told her.
"I know, but you two deserve to kill it more than me which is why I want to get rid of her…she hurt me and I want to return the favor."
He nodded his head running his hand through her hair and letting it settle on her shoulder. "Okay, she's yours," he pulled her into a hug and she took comfort in his warmth, wondering how it was possible to love him yet still love Will…maybe because one was a memory and the other was flesh and blood, sitting right next to her and she'd do everything in her power to make sure that bitch never took anyone else from her.
"Come on," he said, shaking her shoulder a little. "Let's go find Dean before he gets too in depth with his interviews."
She snorted and stood up, watching Sam gather the papers from the table. "He likes in depth interviews."
"Yeah, I know, but if this is what you think it is then I want to find it so you can finish this," he said and locked the door as they left, slipping the key into his pocket.
"Thank you," she said softly.
"Least we can do, Bridge," he grabbed her hand in his. "Come on, let's go."
She savored every minute of the walk to the bar with her hand in Sam's. She hated that she was doing this behind Dean's back without letting anyone know they were indeed together. But it wasn't the right time for any of it. Once they approached the bar, Sam let go of her hand and she felt colder in a way, touching her ring for comfort. Upon entering, sure enough Dean was at the bar talking to a hot bartender. He spotted them and parted ways, coming to sit at the empty table they found.
"Did you get anything?" Bridget asked. "Besides her number?"
"Bridge, I'm a professional. I'm offended that you would think that."
Bridget folded her arms and cocked her eyebrow at him.
"Al right," he pulled out the napkin with her number on it.
"You mind doin' a little bit of thinking with your upstairs brain, Dean?" Sam asked.
"Huh? Look, there's nothing to find out. I mean, Meredith worked here, she waited tables, everyone here was her friend. Everybody said she was normal. She didn't do or say anything weird before she died, so – what about the symbol, you find anything?"
"Not entirely," Sam said. "It wasn't in Dad's journal or in any of the usual books. I just have to dig deeper I guess, but we did get a hint."
"Which is?"
Sam looked at Bridget giving her the floor to talk, "I've drawn that symbol before, from a picture dream…the same night I had a picture dream of the blonde dark eyed demon."
Dean's eyebrows rose, "You mean…the one that…"
"Yeah, that one."
"So you think she's connected to it?" Dean asked.
"Why else would I have the two pictures two together if they weren't?"
"Good point, now we just need to figure out what kind of demon she is and what that symbol is," Dean said. "There was another victim before Meredith right?"
"Right. Yeah," Sam pulled out a newspaper clipping. "His name was, uh – his name was Billy Swardstrom. Last month he was found mutilated in his town house. Same deal – the door was locked, the alarm was on."
"Is there any connection between the two of them?"
"Not that I can tell – I mean, not yet, at least. Ben was a banker, Meredith was a waitress. They never met, never knew anyone in common – they were practically from different worlds."
Bridget nodded and stopped mid motion as a surge of heat scorched through her body and a pain shot through her skull. She blinked a few times, not wanting to alert the guys. Her necklace was burning as well as her skin and her head hurt.
"Bridge? You okay?" Dean asked.
"Yeah," she said for fear of nodding her head. "I'm just – I'm just gonna step out back for a moment. I'll be right back, okay."
She stood up using the table for leverage and took a few steps. Dean touched her arm, "You sure you're – dude, you feel kinda warm."
"I'm fine, Dean," she smiled at him. "I'm just going outside for some air."
"Okay, but I'm comin' to find you in five minutes if you're not back."
She smiled and headed out back, glad there was no one out there. She grabbed onto the railing at the far end and leaned over, heaving whatever she had in her stomach. She wiped her mouth on the back of her hand and gripped at her hurting head. Where the hell did this come from? It came on so suddenly and it hurt. She touched her necklace and felt it thrumming under her fingers, actually vibrating and as she looked at it she could swear the ring was glowing and then she knew it was as the white light got brighter, the stone nearly glowing with it. The brighter it got, the dimmer her headache became and the cooler her skin felt. It felt as if it were chasing the heat and pain away, stopping it. It grew brighter and lit the back area to the point Bridget had to close her eyes. Then it stopped…everything stopped, the pain, the heat, the nausea, even the necklaces warmth and vibration. She touched it just to be sure, but it was over.
The back door opened and Dean came out looking one way then the other until he spotted her sitting with her back to the railing. He was quick to kneel by her side, hand going over face. "Bridge? You okay?"
She nodded, "Yeah…I am now."
"You're not warm anymore, you felt like you were burning up in there," he said concerned. "What happened?"
She shook her head, letting him grab her elbows to help her stand, "I'm not sure. I was fine one minute and the next my head felt like it was splitting open and I felt sick…then…"
"What?" he asked when she trailed off.
"This sounds crazy but…my necklace," she touched it. "Dean, the ring started glowing and the brighter it got the more the pain went away…it…it chased it away. Whatever was hurting me, it stopped it."
Dean looked at the necklace. "Your brother gave that to you?"
"Yeah, but the ring…that was from Will."
Dean pursued his lips, "So your deceased fiancé stopped whatever was making you sick…by playing through your ring."
"Yes and you have to admit this isn't the first time my necklace went freaky on us," she said and watched Dean ponder it.
"Okay, so even if you're right, what hurt you?"
"I have no idea," she shook her head and paused, touching her necklace. "But what if it has to do with dark eyes?"
"You mean like she knows you're in town?"
"Yeah, it makes sense, Dean. I didn't forget about her what if she never forgot about me?"
"Then I say we're on the right trail if she's tryin' to take you out," he said and put an arm around her shoulders. "Come on, let's get back to the hotel and grab the lovesick puppy."
"Lovesick puppy?" she repeated as they went back inside.
"Yeah, Sam was chattin' up this blonde chick. Mean little bitch too. Names Meg, but hey, least he'll be gettin' out and gettin' some right?"
Bridget felt jealousy rear its ugly head in her but nodded, "Yeah."
They found Sam at the table and Dean clapped him on the back, still keeping his arm around her and, for once, she was thankful for it. She still felt shaken up. "Come on, man, let's go."
"You want to leave a bar early and your hot bartender?" Sam asked in surprise.
"Yeah, well, I think we're on the right track and we got other matters to take care of," he nodded at Bridget and Sam finally seemed to notice her. She wondered how bad she looked when she saw the concern on his face.
"Are you okay? What happened?"
"Later," she said. "Let's just go back to the hotel. I want a bath."
They were outside and Dean couldn't hold it any longer. "So who the hell was she?"
"I don't really know," Sam said. "I only met her once. Meeting up with her again? I don't know, man, it's weird."
"And what was she saying? I treat you like luggage? What, were you bitchin' about me to some chick?"
Bridget groaned inwardly, already they were fighting about something from over a month ago.
"Look, I'm sorry, Dean," Sam apologized. "It was when we had that huge fight when I was in that bus stop in Indiana. But that's not important, just listen -."
"Well, is there any truth to what she was saying? I mean, am I keeping you against your will, Sam?"
"No, of course not. Now, would you listen?"
"I'll listen if you two stop fighting," Bridget said and put a hand on her head. She was getting a headache for a whole different reason.
"First off, what happened to you?" he asked her.
She took a deep breath and told him the story of how the sickness came from nowhere and her necklace started glowing stopping whatever it was. Sam nodded his head, believing it more than Dean had. "And you think it has to do with the symbol and dark eyes?"
"Yeah, I do."
"There's something strange going on here…"
"Yeah, tell me about it," Dean said. "She wasn't even into me."
"No, man, I mean like our kind of strange. Like, maybe even a lead."
"Why do you say that besides from what Bridget has?"
"I met Meg a month ago, literally, on the side of the road. And now I run into her in some random Chicago bar? I mean, the same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? And then Bridget gets sick out of nowhere and her necklace stops whatever it was that had to be supernatural to cause that? You don't think that's a little weird?"
"I don't know, random coincidence. It happens," Dean shrugged and Bridget moved out from under his arm to lean against the car.
"Yeah, it happens, but not to us. Look, I could be wrong. I'm just sayin' that there's something about this girl that I can't quite put my finger on."
"Well, I bet you'd like to," Dean smirked. "I mean, maybe she's not a suspect, maybe you've got a thing for her, huh?" Bridget gritted her teeth and Sam rolled his eyes. "Maybe you're thinkin' a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?"
"Do me a favor," Sam said. "Check and see if there's really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can't dig anything up on that symbol."
"You know I will," Bridget nodded.
"What are you gonna do?" Dean asked.
"I'm gonna watch, Meg," he said.
Dean chuckled, "Yeah, you are."
"I just wanna see what's what. Better safe than sorry."
"All right, you little pervert."
"Dude," he glared. "And keep an eye on Bridge, make sure whatever got her doesn't get her again."
"I can handle myself," she said.
"I know…I just don't want it to happen again…whatever it was."
Dean grabbed Bridget's elbow with a nod, more serious than before. "Nothing will happen to her, I'll watch her."
"Not while I'm in the bathtub you won't," she shook her head as they crossed the street leaving Sam with the car.
"Gotta make sure nothing gets you. Bathrooms are great places for that sorta thing."
"It's also the sorta place to make it easier for me to drown you."
"Didn't that almost happen to you once?"
"Yeah, due to a freaky poltergeist but I broke the tub, I can handle myself."
"Looks like your necklace handled it for you."
She gritted her teeth, "I can take care of myself."
"Whatever you say," he patted her shoulder and took out the key Sam had given him to open the door.
Bridget switched the light on and went through her duffel bag for new clothes. She wanted to put on her gym shorts and a top and call it a night but that was never the case here. She grabbed a denim skirt and a new top along with undergarments and headed into the bathroom while Dean pulled out Sam's laptop.
"Leave the door unlocked, just in case," Dean called out.
She rolled her eyes but did so anyway, drawing her bath and adding her bubble mix in. She combed her hair up and piled it on her head with a clip, brushing the bangs from her face. Once the bubbles were high enough she stepped in, sighing in pleasure as the heat relaxed her muscles.
She closed her eyes, relaxing in the moment. She had left her necklace on just in case whatever sent the attack on her tried it again. But a hot bubble bath was exactly what had had needed. She felt back to normal already.
The door opened and she peaked her eyes open seeing Dean stick his head in. She glared in his direction, moving the bubbles to cover herself. "Can I help you with something?"
"Just making sure you're okay," he said with a shrug.
She rolled her eyes, he really did care though. She rarely saw this side of him and it only seemed to show when he was genuinely worried. "You can come in, Dean."
"You sure? You're not gonna knock my head in or anything?"
"Not as long as you behave."
He came in and sat on the closed toilet which was on the other side of the sink giving some distance to the tub. "Just got off the phone with Sammy."
"Yeah, he playing Peeping Tom?" she asked though she didn't really want to know.
"Oh yeah, he's tailing her, but I don't see any reason he should."
"So, she checks out the?"
"Yup," Dean nodded. "Meg Master's is a real person."
"Hmm," Bridget said. "I had the same feeling Sam did."
"What? You think there's more to her?"
"The way Sam says it, Dean, how can there not be. I mean, he meets her at a bus stop in Indiana and then a month later she just happens to be in the same bar as he is in the heart of Chicago when there are hundreds of bars in this city? It's more than coincidence. Something isn't right."
"I'll keep diggin'. I'm working on that symbol right now, see what I can pull on it."
"Okay," she nodded and he stood up to leave.
"Holler if you need me, Bridge," he said and shut the door.
With a sigh she got out of the tub and dried off, putting her clothes on and brushing her hair out. It was nice while it lasted but she had work to do.
Dean was sitting at the table and glanced up at her as she exited the bathroom, tossing her dirty clothes in her bag. "Anything new?" she asked.
"Still searching on the symbol, but I found photos of Meg, pretty girl even in high school."
"Really?" Bridget said raising an eyebrow in interest. So there were pictures of this girl who liked Sam. She told herself it wasn't jealousy but curiosity that peeked her interest. "I wanna see her?"
She went to Dean's side and looked at the screen and in that moment she felt the weight of the last four years crash on her and turn her blood cold. Her jaw fell slightly and her eyes widened as her mind spun with images. The dark shadow just under the street light while she held Will in her arms. The blonde hair and those eyes, those dark eyes. She couldn't remember the face but knew she recognize her again. She put a hand to her mouth as she gasped trying not to scream.
"Bridget? What is it?"
She pointed at the screen, arm shaking. "It's her. Dean, it's her!"
Dean looked at the screen and picture with a shocked look and stood up to face Bridget. He didn't need to ask who 'her' was. "Meg?"
She nodded, tears of anger in her eyes. "That's the bitch that killed Will. I told you I'd know who she was when I saw her and that's her!"
"Okay, okay, okay," he said and grabbed her upper arms. "Calm down, Bridge. Deep breath." She did what he said and he kept his hands on her arms. "Will let Sam know as soon as he gets back and we'll fry this bitch, okay? Right now we need to figure out what she's up to and what that symbol is."
Bridget nodded and fifteen minutes later they had their answer. Shadow dogs. And not long after that Sam walked through the door. The three looked at each other and at the same time said the same thing. "We gotta talk."
Sam sat next to Bridget, "So she's the dark eyed demon that killed Will?"
She nodded, having finished telling him what they found out and hearing Sam talk about following Meg into an old warehouse where she had talked to a bowl of blood at an altar.
He put an arm around her shoulders, "I'm sorry, Bridge…"
"It's okay…I've been waiting for this for a long time. Now we know where she is and what she's doing to some degree."
"So hot little Meg is summoning Daeva then," Dean said.
"Looks like she's been using that black altar I saw to control the thing," Sam said.
"What the deal with the bowl?" Dean asked.
"She was talking to it. The way witches used to scry into crystal balls or animal entrails. She was communicating with someone."
"With who? With the Daeva?" Dean asked.
"No," he shook his head. "You said those things were savages. No, this was someone different. Someone who was giving her orders. Someone who is coming to that warehouse."
Dean thought about thought about it for a moment and stood up moving to the table to scramble through the papers. He pulled up a few papers and sat down, eyes widening. "Holy crap."
"What?" Sam asked.
"What I was gonna tell you earlier – I pulled a favor with my," he cleared his throat, "friend Amy, over at the police station. The complete records of the two victims – we missed something the first time."
"What?" Sam asked again and he and Bridget moved over to the table.
Dean put the papers in front of them, tapping at it. "The first victim, the old man – he spent his whole life in Chicago, but he wasn't born here. Look where he was born."
"Lawrence, Kansas," Bridget read.
"Mmhmm," he put out the second file. "Meredith, the second victim, turns out was adopted. And guess where she's from."
Sam read it over, Bridget following. It read Lawrence, Kansas. "Holy crap," Sam said and sunk into a chair.
"Yeah."
"I mean, it is where the demon killed Mom. That's where everything started. So, you think Meg's tied up with the demon?"
"I think it's a definite possibility," Dean said. "I mean, Meg was there when the demon killed Bridget's family, why wouldn't she be tied to it."
Bridget was looking closer at the files and felt her blood run backwards just about, "Oh my God," she whispered.
"What is it?" Sam asked. "Did we miss something?"
Bridget pointed at the first victims file. "Billy Swardstorm's first name was William."
"Yeah, and?" Dean shrugged.
She pointed at Meredith, "Meredith's last name was Roberts but her birth last name was Ledgerman...and both were born June 23rd."
"I'm still not followin'," Dean shook his head.
She took a deep breath to steady herself, "Will's name was, of course, William…his last name was Ledgerman…he died June 23rd along with my family."
Dean frowned and looked at the papers, "Whoa…"
"Still think it was all a coincidence. The bitch is mocking me," Bridget slammed her hand on the files.
Sam put his hand on her arm. "So what's the significance to all of us? And how do these Daeva things fit in?"
"Beats me," Dean said. "But I say we trash the black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation."
"Friendly, my ass, I'm gonna tear her throat out," Bridget growled.
"No, we can't," Sam interrupted. "We shouldn't tip her off. We've gotta stake out that warehouse. We've gotta see who, or what, is showin' up to meet with her."
"Sam, it's probably a trap. She was the one who made me feel ill at the bar, she had to be. She knows who I am, she knows I'm with you and she's playing with us with these victims to tell us that she knows. Hell, Sam, she probably knew you were at the warehouse. She's smart, I'll give her that and we'll be walking straight into her trap."
"I don't think she does or she'd have killed me."
"She's baiting us."
"Well, I'll tell you both one thing," he pulled his cell phone from his pocket. "We can't do this alone. I'm callin' Dad."
"I'll go get the weapons," Sam said and left before Bridget could argue. As much as she wanted to kill Meg she had a feeling this was a set up. That they were walking right into it and no weapon they had would stop her type of power.
Dean was leaving a message, no surprise to her that John didn't answer his phone. Sam entered with the weapons and Dean shut his phone, frowning at Sam. "Jesus, Sam, what did you bring in?"
"I ransacked the trunk. Holy water, every weapon that I could think of, exorcism rituals from about a half a dozen religions. I'm not sure what to expect, so I guess we should just expect everything."
Dean nodded and started loading his gun. Sam handed one to Bridget who took it slowly, "It won't do any good…she's strong. She's something we haven't dealt with before…"
"It'll be a big night," Dean said.
"Yeah…you nervous?" Sam asked them.
Bridget shrugged and Dean shook his head, "No. Why, are you?"
"No. No way…God, could you imagine if we actually found the damn thing? That demon?"
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, all right?"
"Meg is gonna be hard enough," Bridget said quietly.
"I know," Sam said. "I'm just sayin', what if we did? What is this thing was over tonight? Man, I'd sleep for a month. Go back to school – be a person again."
Bridget bit her lower lip, he thought it'd be that easy. That killing this demon would mean it was over…that there weren't more just like it? She felt an argument stirring.
"You wanna go back to school?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, once we're done hunting this thing," Sam said. "Bridget and I could both go back.
She snorted and shook her head and Dean just shrugged.
"Is there something wrong with that?" Sam asked.
"No, no. It's uh, great…good for you guys."
She took a deep breath, moving the hair from her face, "I'm not going back to school when this thing is dead."
"What?" Sam asked surprised. "Why not?"
"Because it'll never be over, Sam. There's going to be others just like it. There's always going to be something to hunt and I'll keep doing that with Dean."
Dean smiled, head still down cleaning his gun, but she saw the relief in his face.
"But you wanted to be a fashion designer and -."
"Yes, Sam, I did want that, but that was a different life before any of this. I can't just transfer back into that life like nothing ever happened. I can't live a normal life knowing things are still out there and people are still dying."
Sam looked at his brother, "You feel the same?"
Dean nodded, "I was never one for fashion, but yeah…this is what I do and there will always be things to hunt."
"There's gotta be something you want for yourself, Dean."
"Yeah, I don't want you to leave the second this thing is over, Sam," he said and walked over to the dresser, bracing his arms on it and staring at the wall in his own anger.
"Dude, what's your problem?" Sam asked.
He remained silent and Bridget stood up, moving slowly to him and putting her hands on his shoulders, trying to rub the tension away. He turned back around after a minute facing Sam and she kept her hand on his ar. "Why do you think I drag you everywhere? Huh? I mean, why do you think I came and got you from Stanford in the first place?"
"Cause Dad was in trouble. Cause you and Bridge want to find this thing that killed our families."
"Yes, that, but it's more than that, man…" he paused again and Bridget bit her lower lip, not like the arguments but knowing Dean needed to say this. "You and me and Dad…even Bridge…I want us…I want us to be together again. I want to be a family again."
"Dean, we are a family. I'd do anything for you. But things will never be the way they were before."
"Could be," Dean said sadly.
Sam shook his head, "I don't want them to be. I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over, you're gonna have to let me go my own way."
Dean nodded and then turned and left the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. For some reason that hurt worse than him slamming it. Bridget stood there awkwardly in the silence.
"I can't believe you're not going back," Sam said.
"I can't believe you are," she countered quietly.
"I have to…I have to get back to my life and you should too. You should go back with me, finish what you started."
"This is my life, Sam. It's not the one I planned, but hey, in college career majors change and mine changed big time," she said and tapped her fingers on the dresser. After a moment she sat next to him. "This is the life I have now, there's no escaping it…and I don't want to. I have nothing to go back to, Sam…here, I have a family now. I have people I care for and love and vice versa and that's more than I can ask for. I am finishing what I started."
"How can you keep doing this?" he asked. "Once you get what you were hoping to, once these things are dead, how can you keep doing it?"
"Because I don't want anyone to go through what I did. I don't want anyone to feel that pain. As long as these things are still out there, then I'll keep on fighting."
"What about a life of your own?"
"This is my life, Sam," she said with a smile.
"No, I mean, a family, marriage, kids," he said.
She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, "Once upon a time I dreamed of that," she touched the ring around her neck. "I wanted it all…but now, even if I were to go back to a normal life, it would never be normal. I'd always be looking over my shoulder for the next bad thing, wondering about every news article I read, waiting for a demon to pop up…how could I bring a kid into that? How could I be normal after that?...but we're talking about something that won't happen tonight and won't happen tomorrow because this demon that killed your mom and my brother won't be easy to kill, it won't happen tonight…we've got time together as this family, all of us do…it'll be awhile."
Sam's hand covered hers, "Then we have time."
She smiled and touched his shoulder. "Not tonight we don't…because if it were to end tonight, you'd leave tomorrow for Stanford and leave all of us…leave me behind. I can only take a heartbreak at a time, Sam, and my quota is full for the day," she removed her hand from his quietly and left the room.
Outside she leaned against the door, closing her eyes against the tears. She let out a small cry and put a hand to her mouth. She took a deep breath to regain herself and wiped at her eyes, clearing her throat to find Dean, not wanting to be a mess in front of him. She didn't have to look far. He was sitting on the trunk of the Impala, staring out at nothing. She sat up on it next to him, scooting close and brushing the hair from her face.
"Big night…" she said.
"Yeah…"
"He's his own person, Dean…this isn't the life he wants and we can't make him want it."
"I know it's just…," he shook his head and there were tears in his eyes. "He's leaving us again. He's leavin' like I'm nothing to him. All I want is my family together and I can't even have that because everybody leaves…"
Bridget slid her hand into his for comfort, "I'm not leaving when this thing is dead."
"Why not? You got school to go back to, a career to finish."
"What's to go back to, Dean? The family I had when I wanted those things is dead and that died with it. Everything I want is here now and like I told Sam, I can't go back to that life and be normal again…if I ever was," she snorted and was glad he smiled a bit. "Not when I know what's out there hurting people, not when there's things to hunt, not when I know that John and you are out here. I'd go crazy if I didn't know either of you were okay. You guys and Sam and even Bobby are all I have now. I'm not leaving that, I'm not leaving you…"
He smiled a bit and nodded, arm going around her shoulders. "Thanks, Bridge…nice to know I still got you when it's said and done."
She patted his leg with her free hand, "You're stuck with me, Deano."
He tapped on his cheek, "Can I at least get a kiss? Make me feel better."
She sighed, "All right," she leaned in to kiss his cheek, but last minute he turned his head and his free hand that had been around her shoulders now pulled her to him, locking his lips on hers, kissing her deeper. He pulled away with that cat like grin and she frowned at him.
"It was worth the hit."
She pursued her lips, "We both had an emotional night, you more so, and it's probably going to get worse, so I won't hit you for that, this time."
"Good, so in case I die I at least got to kiss you," he smiled.
"You're not dying tonight. I'm not letting Meg kill anyone I care for. That includes you."
He faked sincerity, "You care for me?"
"Keep it up and I'll hit you for it after all," she reminded him and hopped off the trunk. "Come on, we got work to do before the night is over…I'm so glad I restocked the med kit. I have a feeling we're gonna need it."
Bridget climbed the elevator gate with Sam and Dean, glad she had brought two of her knives tucked into her boot and a vial of Holy water in her other boot. She doubted the gun in the back of her skirt would do much good but better to be safe than sorry. Especially when you were walking into a trap like they were. She had tried to convince Sam once more but he wasn't hearing it. They reached the top of the elevator and Bridget slid out between the gate and the wall, followed by Dean and Sam. The two boys were quick to draw their guns and move to hide behind some crates. Bridget rolled her eyes and walked straight out.
"I'm surprised," Meg said still praying at her black altar. "You just come right out, Bridget, no sense in trying to hide like the other guys behind the crates. It's a little childish I always thought. Least your tough enough to walk out…not like I didn't know you three were here."
"Well," Dean said still behind the crates. "That didn't work out like I planned."
"I told you it wouldn't," Bridget said, her eyes never leaving Meg, never wavering. Not even when the blonde stood up and turned around and she was faced with the face that haunted her for so many years.
"Bridget, long time no see, love your hair, really. And you still look so much the same from that night," she pointed at Bridget. "You should listen to her, she's the smart one. She just knew…and you guys still hide letting her face me alone…why don't you come out?"
"Where's your little Daeva friend?" Dean asked.
"Around," Meg shrugged, taking a step closer to Bridget who never moved. "You know, Dean, that shotgun's not gonna do much good. I'm sure Bridget told you that too."
"Oh, don't worry, sweetheart. The shotgun's not for the demon."
"So, who is it, Meg?" Sam called out. "Who's coming? Who are you waiting for?"
Meg smiled and Bridget felt the cold before she saw it. She spun her head towards Sam just as her necklace warmed, warning her that they were about to be harmed.
She heard Meg's voice speak the answer she already knew, "You."
"Sam! Dean!" Bridget called out and ran towards them just as the shadows sprang from the ground with a growl. She saw Sam knocked to the ground, a slash mark appearing across his face and Dean was thrown into the crates. She was stopped by a force and Meg was grabbing her. "I've been waiting for you, too." Bridget was slammed into a pillar by a shadowy demon and her vision went black as she sunk into darkness hearing Meg's laughter.
When she came to she was tied to a pillar next to Dean but able to see Sam still unconscious, his cheek bleeding from the scratch marks. With a slight wince she twisted her head to look at Dean who was awake. "Dean? You okay?"
"Never better," he grunted. "You?"
"I've felt worse."
"That you have," Meg chimed, sitting in front of Sam.
"Not as bad as I'll make you feel," Bridget promised her just as Sam came too.
He blinked a few times and looked over at them.
"Hey Sam," Dean said. "Don't take this wrong, but that girl is one helluva bitch."
"This, the whole thing," he said to Meg. "It was a trap."
"Duh," she gestured at Bridget. "How many times do I have to repeat that Bridget was right?"
"Running into you at the bar," he said."You made her sick."
"Well I didn't want to ruin our moment and I knew she'd recognize me. I still don't know how she recovered so quickly but that doesn't matter now."
"Me following you here, hearin' what you had to say. It was all a set up…and that the victims were from Lawrence and matched Will?"
"It doesn't mean anything," she laughed. "It was to draw you all in, that's all."
"You killed those people for nothing," he seethed.
"Baby, I've killed a lot more for a lot less."
"You trapped us. Good for you. It's Miller time," Dean smiled. "But why don't you kill us already?"
"Not very quick on the uptake, are we?" she leaned in closer to Sam. "This trap wasn't for you."
Dean was puzzled and even Bridget frowned. If not them then who?
"Dad," Sam said suddenly. "It's a trap for Dad."
Meg grinned and Dean chuckled. "Oh, sweetheart – you're dumber than you look. Cause even if Dad was in town, which he's not, he wouldn't walk into something like this. He's too good."
"Better than we are. He'd have listened to me," Bridget snorted.
"He is pretty good. I'll give you that," Meg walked over and straddled Dean's legs. Bridget turned her head in disgust to even look at the bitch. "But you see, he has one weakness."
"What's that?" Dean asked.
"You," Meg said and touched Dean's cheek. "He lets his guard down around his boys, lets his emotions cloud his judgment. I happen to know he is in town. And he'll come and try to save you. And then the Daevas will kill everybody – nice and slow and messy."
"Well, I've got news for ya. It's gonna take a lot more than some…shadow to kill him," Dean said.
"Oh, the Daevas are in the room here. They're invisible. Their shadows are just the only part you can see."
"Why me, then? Huh?" Bridget said, twisting her head. "Why kill my family?"
Meg slid over to her, crouching near her. "Well, your brother and his family were part of the plan…sort of. It didn't work out real well. Your nephew wasn't supposed to die, but it happens. And Will…let's just say he got in the way."
Bridget frowned for a moment and it dawned on her as the memory flashed back. Will had shoved her out of the way…Meg wasn't aiming for him. She was aiming for her. "Me…you wanted me."
"Bingo," she said. "You and your little gift or whatever the hell it is gets in the way just like your brother's did…but I'll admit, I could have easily shot you and not him even if he moved you out of the way…but my plan changed just last second and I felt him dying would be more fun, your misery entertains me."
Bridget looked as if she'd been slapped, stunned into silence. She hung her head down, her hair shielding her face.
"Awwee…I struck a nerve. No snappy comeback, no anger, I'm disappointed."
"Leave her alone," Sam said and she turned her attention to him. "Why you doin' this Meg? What kind of deal you got worked out here, huh? And with who?"
Bridget removed the pocket knife from her back pocket and was quietly working at the rope, head still draped down but her eyes were full of pure rage, containing herself into looking solemn.
"I'm doing this for the same reasons you do what you do – loyalty. Love. Like the love you had for Mommy – and Jess."
"Go to hell," he seethed.
"Baby, I'm already there," she purred and slid over to Sam, straddling his legs. "Come on, Sam. There's no need to be nasty. I think we both know how you really feel about me. You know…I saw you watching me, changing in my apartment. Turned you on, didn't it."
"Get a room, you two," Dean groaned.
"I didn't mind. I liked that you were watching me. Come on, Sammy. You and I can still have a little dirty fun," she started kissing Sam's neck and Bridget undid her ropes. She nodded faintly at Dean and Sam who gave her a knowing look and moved his hand barely to show he broke through his ropes.
He looked at Meg. "You wanna have fun? Go ahead then. I'm a little tied up right now."
Meg smiled and continued kissing him. Dean knocked his knife against the post and it caught Meg's attention. Bridget kept her head down as she crossed over to them. She looked over t Dean and spotted the knife. She removed it with a smile and tossed it into a corner before moving back to Sam. "Now, were you just trying to distract me while your brother cuts free."
Bridget moved her arms behind her back and drew her leg up, ready to pounce.
"No, no," Sam said with a smile. "That's because I have my own knife." Meg looked confused until Sam head butted her. She fell back from him and Bridget lunged at her the moment Sam moved. She hit her once in the face, knocking her to the floor with a groan of pain.
She looked up at Sam and pointed, "Sam! Get the altar!"
Sam walked to the altar and overturned it. The shadow demons appeared and Bridget backed away from Meg over to Dean, watching as the shadows grabbed her and dragged her out the window sending her screaming into the night. Bridget bent low and cut Dean's ropes and the three moved to the window. Meg was sprawled on the sidewalk below, eyes staring into nothing.
"So, I guess the Daevas didn't like being bossed around," Dean said.
"Yeah, I guess not."
"Hey, Sam…next time you wanna get laid find a girl who isn't buckets-o'-crazy," Dean suggested and walked away. Bridget and Sam exchanged a look and followed him, Bridget lingering a second longer to look at Meg…it didn't feel right. It should have felt over, but it didn't. It was too easy for her to believe.
They were walking back to the hotel room now to get their stuff and get out of here. Bridget still had the uncomfortable feeling in her gut. She touched her necklace slightly.
"Why didn't you just leave that stuff in the car?" Dean asked.
"I said it before, and I'll say it again – better safe than sorry."
Dean shrugged and unlocked the door so they could enter the room. They paused when they saw the outline of someone standing in the room. Bridget was quick to switch on the light and the man turned around causing the three to stand in shock.
Dean managed to speak first, "Dad?"
"Hey boys…and Bridget," he said and Dean was first to share a long hug with him before Bridget scooted forward.
"Don't suppose I get a hug?" she asked sheepishly with her sweet girl voice, batting her eyes.
It caused him to chuckle, "Pretty girl like you, come here," he pulled her into a hug and she had to admit she missed him almost as much as Dean had. She felt more complete now.
She pulled away and glanced at Sam, feeling the tension. She inched back to Dean who put his hand on her arm, both waiting to see what happened.
"Hi Sam," John said.
"Hey Dad," Sam said softly and placed the bag of weapons on the floor.
Dean broke the awkwardness. "Dad, it was a trap. I didn't know. Bridget did, but I didn't listen to her. I'm sorry."
"It's all right. I thought it might've been. Good intuition, Bridge."
"Thank you, sir," she nodded her thanks.
"Were you there?" Dean asked.
"Yeah, I got there just in time to see the girl take the swan dive…she was the bad guy, right?" John asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Yes, sir," Sam and Dean said together.
Dean took over the rest, "She was, uh…she was the dark eyed demon that, uh…"
"She was the one that killed Will," Bridget filled in, wincing slightly as she said it out loud.
John looked at her in the same shock his sons had been in, the expression so identical it'd have been comical to her if it wasn't such a touchy subject for her. "You're sure."
"Very…she even admitted to it…" Bridget said softly.
John stunned her now as he hugged her again, wrapping both arms around her now so her face was buried in his jacket. She closed her eyes, sinking into the emotion and warmth she felt from it, something she hadn't felt in so long because the feeling only came from family. He pulled her away and patted her shoulder once before dropping his hand and addressing all of them. "It doesn't surprise me, either. It's tried to stop me before.
"The demon has?" Sam asked.
"It knows I'm close. It knows I'm gonna kill it. Not just exorcise it or send it back to hell – actually kill it?"
"How?" Dean asked.
"I'm workin' on that," he smiled, same smirky grin as Dean, she noted.
"Let us come with you, we'll help," Sam said and Bridget and Dean shot him a warning look.
"No, Sam. Not yet. Just try to understand. This demon is a scary son of a bitch. I don't want you caught in the crossfire. I don't want you hurt."
"Dad, you don't have to worry about us."
"Of course I do. I'm your father," he paused a moment. "Listen, Sammy, last time we were together, we had one hell of a fight."
"Yes, sir."
"It's good to see again. It's been a long time."
"Too long," Sam agreed and he and John embraced. Bridget had tears in her eyes and Dean slid his arm around her shoulders, just as tearful with a smile on his face. He was happy. It was everything she wanted and it was what she wanted too. A long last a happy reunion and they were all together – a family. Bridget gasped and grabbed her necklace. It was getting hot and vibrating. "No," she whispered. "LOOK OUT!"
Her shout came too late as the shadows attacked John, throwing him into the cabinets and sending him to the ground. Sam was next to be thrown.
"No!" Dean shouted moving away from her and before she could grab him he was thrown to the floor.
Bridget turned to look out the window and saw the shadowy figure with dark eyes and blonde hair standing across the street. Her eyes narrowed and she gritted her teeth. She knew she wasn't dead. She was thrown into the wall, losing sight of Meg outside and hit it with an "oomph" sliding to the floor. It tossed her again near Sam and she let out a cry of pain as it raked her leg, but what hurt her more was hearing her family's cries of pain. Memories flashed through her mind, Lydia screaming upstairs, her brother's cries as the ceiling fell down, Will's shocked cry as the bullet hit him. And she was hearing those same haunting sounds now. Her necklace became warm around her neck as she pushed herself onto her hands and knees, sitting up slightly as the ring began to glow against her shirt.
Sam was reaching into the weapon bag and pulled out a flare. Bridget grabbed his wrist, "No, I got this one handled.
"Bridge, I need to-." He stopped mid sentence as he saw the ring on her necklace glowing brighter by the second.
"Close your eyes, this will be bright," she warned everyone. A tear fell down Bridget's face as she looked at the shadows moving around the room. It mixed with the blood on her cheek and she gritted her teeth, letting her emotions do the work. "No one. Hurts. My. FAMILY!" On her last word the ring let out a brilliant light and pulse that sent the windows blowing out. The shadow demons shrieked and went out with the window just as Sam lit the flare to cover for Bridget. Smoke filled the room and the four hurried out, coughing and sputtering. They hurried outside and down the alley where the cars were. Sam put the weapons bag in the backseat and Bridget leaned against the car.
"What," John coughed, "the hell was that?"
"Shadow demons," Sam said.
"No, Bridget, what did you do?" he asked her directly, wiping at the blood on his face.
She shrugged. "It was nothing."
"Didn't look like nothing when you lit the room up."
She bit her lower lip and touched her necklace. "Just because my family died, John…doesn't mean they left me completely."
He paused for a moment, eyes on her necklace. "You mean to tell me your necklace did that."
"My brother and Will still look out for me apparently…it's new to me, this is at least…"
He just nodded his head, not pressing it any further.
Sam spoke first, "All right, come on. We don't have much time. As soon as the flare's out they'll be back and I'm doubting Bridget's necklace can do that again."
"Wait, wait," Dean looked at his Dad. "Dad, you can't come with us."
"What?" Sam exclaimed. "What are you talkin' about?"
"You three – you're beat to hell."
Dean wiped at the blood, wincing slightly. "We'll be all right."
"I've had worse," Bridget said looking at the cuts on her leg just above her knee to the side. They weren't deep but they'd sting like hell.
"Dean, we should stick together. We'll go after those demons -." Sam started.
Dean cut him off, "Sam! Listen to me! We almost got Dad killed in there. Don't you understand? They're not gonna stop, they're gonna try again. They're gonna use us to get to him. I mean, Meg was right. Dad's vulnerable when he's with us. He's – he's stronger without us around."
Sam turned to Bridget hoping for her to come to his aid but she shook her head, "Dean's right, Sam. Look at tonight…he has to go on his own…"
Sam spun to his father, tears in his eyes. "Dad, no," he put a hand on his dad's shoulder and Dean watched sadly, tears in his own eyes and Bridget found herself putting her hand in his, finding these tears were the ones of sorrow unlike the happiness they had had just ten minutes ago. It was taken away, robbed of them so quickly as if the balance of life said that five minutes was too much for them to have.
He continued to talk to his dad as they watched, "After everything, after all this time we spent lookin' for you –please. I gotta be a part of this fight."
"Sammy, this fight is just starting. And we are all gonna have a part to play. For now, you've gotta trust me, son. Okay, you gotta let me go," the four of them remained silent, all close to tears. Sam patted his father's shoulder and let go moving to stand next to Bridget. She slid her free hand into Sam's, clenching it in her own bloody dirty one. John smiled sadly at them, walking back to his truck. "Be careful, boys and Bridge…" And with that, he got into his truck and drove away.
They stood there a moment longer before Dean spoke, "We, uh, we better get moving," he sniffled and let go of her hand.
"Right," she nodded and looked at Sam. She turned his face to the side wincing at the scratches. "Okay, we are taking turns driving though because I am going to patch you all up one at a time starting with Sam."
"What about your leg?" he asked.
"It can go last."
"No, I'll clean it for you," he said.
"After I'm done with your face then," she argued and opened the door to the back seat, already having her med kit back there. "Get in."
With a huff he got into the backseat. She turned on the light overhead to see better and opened the kit taking out the peroxide and a clean cloth. "This is gonna hurt," she warned him and stood on her knees to better look at his cheek. She wiped the peroxide cloth against the slash marks and he hissed jerking back. She grabbed his chin, "Don't be a baby," she said and finished wiping the blood away, watching the cuts bubble lightly as the bacteria died. She tilted his head to look at them better. "It's not deep at all, no stitches needed. I'm just gonna seal them with stitching band aids though so they heal faster." She took out of the Neosporin and dabbed it on, noticing he clenched his jaw against the sting. "Oh don't be such a little girl," she teased.
"That's Samantha for you," Dean chuckled from up front, driving down the highway.
"You're next," Sam warned him. "See how you like it."
"I'm a lot tougher than you," he snorted.
Bridget finished his cheek. "Any other cuts?" She tilted his face towards her and besides his lip, that was it.
He shook his head, eyes on her in the dim light. She tried to ignore it, still looking him over. "Looks like it got your neck," she said and moved his collar down to see the light scratches there. "Those just need Neosporin, I think your good after that."
She moved back down, biting her lip as she moved her injured leg. Sam grabbed the bottle and a new cloth. "Your turn," he said.
"I can do it," she reached for the bottle but he moved it out of her reach.
"No, no. Only fair I return the favor," he said with a smile.
"Why does that sound diabolical?"
"Because it is with this bottle of death," he said.
She sighed and noticed they were sitting on wrong sides. Her right leg was scratched but Sam was sitting on her left. "How are we doing this?"
"Easy," Sam said. "Turn towards me."
Bridget moved to face him.
"Now put your right leg in my lap," Sam said scooting more towards the middle.
Bridget scooted back and twisted so her right leg was in his lap, her thigh across his. Oh this looked bad and was somewhat embarrassing. She could see Sam blush and swallow hard as he cleaned the cuts. She bit her lip to stop the hiss that wanted to escape and Sam smiled. "Does it hurt?"
"No," she said behind clenched teeth. "Feels fine."
"Then you won't mind me finishing it," he said and wiped the blood away. Her leg tensed and a small sound escaped her like a hiss of air. Sam smiled smugly and moved her skirt up her thigh to reach the rest of the cut.
"Why couldn't I clean the cut?" Dean asked, glancing in the review mirror.
"Because you suck at it," Sam said. He patted her leg to let her know it was done and she moved her leg down. He brushed the hair from her face and tilted her chin to look at the cut on her cheek. "That one doesn't look bad."
A dab of Neosporin on it and they were done. Dean pulled over the car so he and Sam could switch and Bridget winced at Dean. He had slash marks across his forehead and his cheek had been cut open along with a spot on his chin. "Damn Dean, it had a field day with you," she said and started dabbing at his forehead.
"Yeah well, I'm tougher than I – son of a bitch!" he exclaimed one the peroxide touched him.
"What happened to you being tough?" Sam chuckled, driving the car.
"My cuts are worse."
"Not really," Bridget said and Sam laughed.
"Bite me," he mumbled and let Bridget finish.
She put a couple band aids on."You don't need stitches either. I think were good now…injury wise."
"Yeah…" Dean trailed off. "Looks like this isn't near over yet."
"No," Sam let out a deep breath. "Looks like it's just getting started."
The silence was awkward. Dean was somewhat happy due to it not being over while Sam was distraught over it. Bridget cleared her throat and leaned against the seat. "I know one thing's for sure."
"What's that?"
"We put the fun in dysfunctional," she smiled and it caused the two brothers to laugh. Dean put his arm around her shoulders for the umpteenth time that night and she closed her eyes, putting her feet up over the front seat near Sam. It hadn't been one of their best days, but she had found Meg, she knew her face and she'd kill her eventually. But for now, her family was safe, that was all that mattered.