S3 EP 34 Bad Day at Black Rock

A/N: Sorry it's been so long. Work has been crazy but I haven't given up on this series. Enjoy this long awaited chapter!

Her head was starting to pound. That much was for sure. Especially after the realization that this Ruby girl Sam was getting information from, the very same one she saw at the hotel, was a demon. But Sam saw nothing wrong in that and to her and Dean, Sam had lost his mind. This was part of the reason for her headache, that and the argument ensuing in the car.

"Because Demon, that's why, I mean the second you find out this Ruby chick is a Demon you go for the Holy water, you don't chat!" Dean argued.

"No one was chatting, Dean."

"Really?" Bridget jumped in. "Then why didn't you send her packing to hell, Sam?"

"Because- Because she said she might be able to help us out."

Bridget snorted. He really had lost his mind now and was desperate if he trusted a demon. "How?"

"Answer Bridget," Dean said after Sam paused. "This I got to hear. How could she possibly help us?"

"With the deal…"

"What is wrong with you, huh? She lying, you gotta know that, don't you? She knows what your weakness is, it's me."

"Look I'm not an idiot Dean, I'm not talking about trusting her, I'm talking about using her. I mean we're at war, right? And we don't know jack about the enemy; we don't know where they are, we don't know what they're doing. I mean, Hell, we don't know what they want. Now this Ruby girl knows more than we will ever find out on our own. Now yes, it's a risk, I know that, but we need to take it."

"You feeling okay, Sam?" Bridget asked.

"Yes I'm fine, why are you always asking me that?"

Before anyway could answer, a phone started ringing. Bridget reached for hers but her screen was dark. "Not mine."

"Not mine either."

"Check the glove compartment," Dean said. "It's Dads."

"Dad's?"

"Yes, I keep it charged up in case any of his old contacts call."

Sam flipped the phone open. "Hello? Yes... this is Edgar Cayce..." he looking questionably at Bridget and Dean who shrugged. "No, no, no, no, don't- don't call the police, I'll handle this myself. Thanks. You know, can you just uh, can you just lock it back up for me? Great. Uhm, I- I uh, I don't have my- my book in front of me," he gestured at Bridget for a pen and she handed him the one tucked behind her ear. "Do you- do you have the address so I can...Sure, OK. Go ahead. Right, thanks a lot." He handed Bridget her pen. "Did you guys know Dad had a storage unit?"

"Really?" Bridget frowned.

"Outside of Buffalo."

"No way," Dean said.

"Yeah…and someone just broke into it," he said.

They managed to get the keys from the owner of the storage facility without too much hassle. And promise that the police were surely not needed to come investigate. It would have been the last thing they needed knowing what John Winchester could possibly have in there. The three stood outside the sliding door. Dean shook his head, turning the key over in his hand. "Man…"

"What?" Bridget frowned.

"Just Dad. You know him and his secrets. Spend all this time with the guy and it's like we barely even know the man."

Sam shrugged, "Well, we're about to learn something."

Dean unlocked the padlock and slid the door open. Bridget turned on her flashlight and stepped inside. She quickly spotted a symbol drawn on the floor along with bloody footprints. "Blood and demons allowed."

"Check this out," Dean called from the other side.

She walked over and noticed the trip wire on the floor locked to the shot gun mounted in the corner. "Whoever broke in here got tagged."

"I got two sets of boot treads here, looks like it was a two-man job. And our friend with the buckshot in him looks like he kept walking," Dean said.

Sam shook his head, "So what's the deal? Dad would do work here or something?"

"Living the high life, as usual," Dean said.

Bridget flashed her light around pausing on a desk. She picked up a trophy and blew on it, coughing at the dust and reading the plaque, "1995…"

Sam's eyes caught sight of it and widened as he took the three steps next to her. "No way! That's my Division Championship soccer trophy. I can't believe he kept this." She handed it over to him and picked up a harsh looking shot gun. Dean boasted next to her other side with pride, "Oh, wow! It's my first sawed-off. I made it myself. 6th Grade."

"You must have been so proud," she said flatly looking amidst all the things John had collected from his boys. She paused with a frown, picking up a beaded bracelet hanging out of an obvious handmade cup from one of the boys, tracing her fingers over the colorful but faded beads as a smile came to her face. He had kept it.

"What's that?" Sam asked with a frown.

"A bracelet I made in third grade art class. I got an A on it and always wore it every day of my life. It was my good luck charm…the couple times I didn't wear it bad things happened…like my parents dying. I gave it to your Dad for good luck one night he went hunting. It was after he had gotten banged up during a ghost hunt. I told him it would bring him good luck…never knew he kept it…"

"Apparently he thought highly of you too, Bridge," Sam told her patting her shoulder.

"Holy crap. Look at this," Dean said pointing to a box. Bridget returned the bracelet to the cup and moved over to Dean, "he had land mines... Which they didn't take. Or the guns. I guess they knew what they were after, huh?"

"Hey guys, check this out," Sam's flashlight was pointed to a box with symbols etched into it. "See these symbols? That's binding magic. These are curse boxes."

Dean glanced at him, "Curse boxes? They're supposed to keep the evil mojo in right, kinda like the Pandora deal."

"Yeah, yeah, they're built to contain the power of the cursed object."

"Well Dad's journal didn't mention a whole bunch of stuff, you know? Dangerous hexed items, fetishes; he never did say where they ended up."

Bridget glanced through it, making sure not to touch anything, "No, then this must be his toxic waste dump. One box is missing... great."

"Well maybe they didn't open it."

"Hope they do and fall into boiling water," Bridget sighed. "I'm guessing we got to go find this now."

"You got it," Dean nodded.

"We should check with the security tape…I'm betting if they were dumb enough to get shot they were dumb enough to be on tape."

"I'm betting you're right."

Bridget was right. The two bozos were on tape along with their license plate making it two phone calls too easy for Sam to get their address. They were parked behind the alley of the address and Dean looked at the dump of a Honda getaway car the two had used.

"Connecticut. Last three digits 880," he read to Sam.

"That's it," he nodded.

"Should've blacked out their plates before they parked in front of the security camera..."

Bridget put her drawing pad down of a rabbit's foot, thankful she wasn't drawing Sleeping Beauty on a bed with a wall clock pointed at midnight behind her and a dark shadow of prince charming nearby. It was beginning to be annoying with the fairy tales. "Told you they weren't too bright."

They snuck up the apartment, getting in too easily as the two red necks were playing poker at a table.

Dean wasn't one to wait. "FREEZE! NOBODY MOVE!"

The two looked confused at the commotion and the three pointing guns at them. Bridget frowned at the rabbit's foot on the table and noticed the open box. "Don't tell me they opened it…"

"They did," Sam nodded, gun drawn.

Dean shoved one of the guys into the wall. "You opened it?"

"Are you guy's cops?"

"What was in the box?" he asked, ignoring the question.

Bridget frowned at rabbit's foot on the table. "I think it's the foot."

"Really?" Dean questioned.

The guy seemed to take Dean's distraction to his advantage. He knocked the gun out of Dean's hand. It hit the floor and went of causing a bullet to mysteriously ricochet off the heater and hit Sam's gun, knocking it from his hand causing his to fire and knock Bridget's from hers. With much confusion, Bridget went for the gun at the same time as the other guy. He shoved her causing her to fall into Dean and both to go through the table.

"What is going on?" she grumbled, struggling to detangle herself from Dean.

"I don't know but it's pissing me off," he growled getting to his feet. At that moment the other guy hit Dean in the face sending him back to the floor and crashing back into Bridget who had just gotten up. He watched helplessly as the man strangled Sam and hope came to her the minute she saw Sam grab the rabbits foot and knock the guy off.

"Dean! Bridge! I got it!" Sam called out.

This time the two got to their feet without hassle and the three booked it for the door as the two goons struggled, their luck having run out. "Is that a lucky rabbit's foot?" Bridget asked.

Sam nodded. "I think so."

Bridget was still staring at the rabbit's foot Sam had grabbed from the guys. She hadn't touched it or taken it from him. Something in her told her that wouldn't be a good idea and she learned long ago to trust those intuitions. Instead she busied herself with looking through John's journal for any mention of the foot.

Dean reentered the car from the liquor store and she shook her head. "There's nothing in here on the foot." She said as Dean scrambled through the bag he had. "What do you got?"

He pulled out scratchers with a grin, flashing them at Sam. "You gotta be kidding?" Sam shook his head.

"What? Hey, that was my gun he was aiming at your head, and my gun don't jam so that was a lucky break. Not to mention them taking themselves out, also a lucky break. Here, scratch one. C'mon Sam, scratch and win!"

Sam took the scratcher and scratched at it. A frown crossed his face as he got all 7's. He handed the card to Dean. "1200 dollars…you just won 1200 dollars!"

"Dean this thing has to be cursed or your dad wouldn't have it locked up and booby trapped."

"I don't know Bridge, doesn't seem that cursed to me!" he handed Sam another scratcher and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm calling Bobby," she said stepping out of the car, pulling out her cell phone and clicking on his speed dial while Dean kept squealing in delight at the winning scratchers from Sam.. He answered her on the third ring.

"Tell me the boys didn't get arrested again."

"Nope, nothing like that. But, uh, did you know about John's storage unit?"

"Yeah, what about it?"

"Did you know about his curse boxes?"

"Yeah? Hell I built them for him…I'm guessing this news is about to get bad."

"Fifteen thousand dollars…" Dean said getting out of the car and laying the scratchers on the hood in delight. "He won us fifteen thousand dollars…"

"Depends on who you ask there, Bobby."

"What's going on?" he asked her.

"Well…couple guys broke into the unit and stole a rabbit's foot."

"The rabbit's foot. Shit, did you touch it?"

Bridget watched as Sam frowned, moving a newspaper on the ground and uncovering a gold watch. He looked at her with concern while Dean nabbed it, giggling.

"Nope, but Sam has it."

"Dammit… listen, you have got a serious problem."

"So we're noticing…"

"That rabbit's foot ain't no dime store notion. It's real Hoodoo, Old World stuff."

"It's a Hell of a luck charm at the moment, Bobby."

"It's not a luck charm, she made it to kill people, Bridget!"

She kept the worry off her face as Sam bent to pick up a twenty dollar bill he found under the car. Bobby continued talking as she listened, watching Sam. "See, you touch it, you own it. You own it, sure, you get a run of good luck to beat the Devil. But, you lose it, that luck turns. It turns so bad that you're dead inside a week."

"So I have to make sure he doesn't lose it."

"EVERYBODY LOSES IT, BRIDGET!" Bobby yelled causing her to jump slightly.

"Then tell me how to get rid of it, Bobby, because I'm not going through this again."

"I don't know if you can, sweet heart," he said defeated.

"Find a way, Bobby," she said quietly so the brothers wouldn't hear her. "I'm having a hard enough time with John dead and Dean's days numbered. I won't lose Sam, too."

"I know…lemme look through my books and see what I can find. You make sure he doesn't lose that foot and don't touch it, Bridget."

"Thank you, Bobby."

"Don't thank me yet. I'll call you soon."

He hung up and Bridget stood there a moment watching the boys grin, knowing that these days were numbered too and that soon it'd just be two of them. And if Bobby couldn't help it there would only be her.

She faned a smile. "Let's go inside and get some food."

"Sounds like a great idea," Dean said. "I'm starved." He tucked his winnings into his pocket and led the way.

After they were seated did Bridget relay most of the information she learned, leaving out that there was no way to break it that Bobby knew of.

"Don't worry, Bobby'll find a way to break it. Until then I say we hit Vegas, pull a little Rain Man. You can be Rain Man," Dean said to Sam.

"Dean, we're just going to lay low until Bobby figures this out," she said.

Sam had his laptop open ad was scanning the internet. "Bobby's right. It's lore goes way back. Pure Hoodoo. You can't just cut one off any rabbit. Has to be in a cemetery, under a full moon, on a Friday the thirteenth."

The short haired young waitress approached the table with a coffee pot, smiling at Sam. "Can I freshen you up?"

"Yeah, yeah sure. Thanks." He said pushing the cup towards her.

She leaned to pour it glancing at Bridget who gasped slightly as her necklace twitched. She touched the ring with a frown as the old Bela Lugosi movie flashed through her head. The waitress spilled some of the coffee onto Sam. "Oops. Let me get that for you. Sorry about that."

"It's, uh, it's no problem," she grinned and walked away. Both Dean and Sam watched her go. Only Bridget sat still confused by her necklaces reaction and the name.

"Dude. If you were ever gonna get lucky..."

"Shut up," Sam laughed and picked up his coffee. It dropped and spilled across the table and onto his lap. He jumped from his seat, knocking into a waiter who dropped a tray full of plates. "Sorry! Oh jeez!"

"How was that good?" Dean asked confused,

Bridget's eyes widened and scanned the area. The waitress was gone. "Oh no…Sam, where's the foot?"

Sam checked his pockets and looked at them in shock. It was gone.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean yelled and the three took off for the parking lot, but she was gone.

Bridget shook her head in frustration. "I knew something wasn't right about her. I knew it! Dammit!"

Sam tripped and fell trying to keep up.

Dean sighed and helped him up. "Wow, you suck dude. So now you're luck turns bad?"

He inspected his bloody cut up knee. "I'm guessing so."

"I'm calling Bobby," Bridget said, pulling out her phone.

"Good idea," Dean muttered as Sam stepped in bubble gum.

"You got some timing, girl," Bobby said as he answered.

"Good, because the foot got stolen by a thief. She must be a high class one too I'm betting and hired those two bozos from earlier to rob John's storage unit."

"What? He lost it! How's he doing?"

Bridget glanced over to see Sam lose his shoe down a storm drain, mirroring the drawing she had done weeks ago. "You got something right?"

"Wasn't easy but I found a heavyweight cleansing ritual that should do the trick. Except you need the foot."

"The thief's name is Lugosi…I think," she frowned at the sudden recollection of it.

"Lugosi? Lugos- Aw crap, it's probably Bela."

Bridget frowned deeper. "Like the vampire…that's weird."

"What is?"

"Nothing…just had a reaction to her and that movie came to my head for some reason."

"Must be your necklace, always did give you a sixth sense."

"I guess, but what about her, Bobby."

"Bela Talbot's her real name. Crossed paths with her once or twice."

"Well she knew about the rabbit's foot, is she a Hunter?"

"Pretty friggin' far from a Hunter, but she knows her way around the territory. She's been out of the country. Last I heard she was in the Middle East someplace."

"Well…she's back…"

"Which means seriously bad luck for you."

She watched Sam sit on the curb miserably. "You have no idea."

"At least I might know some folks who know how to find her."

"Thanks Bobby. Again."

"Just look out for Sam…again," he added and hung up.

"I lost my shoe, Bridge," Sam pouted.

Bridget shook her head at Dean. "Let's get him in the room so he can sit in one spot and not move."

"Good idea," Dean nodded.

They managed to get him to the room with Sam only tripping once. He sat on the edge of the bed looking glum. Bobby called Dean this time and he hung up, thanking the older man. "All right Bobby's got it on pretty good authority that this Bela chick lives in Queens. So it'll take me about two hours to get there."

"So what are we doing here?" Sam asked gesturing at the room.

"You my brother are staying here 'cause I don't want your bad luck getting me and Bridget killed."

"What am I even supposed to do, Dean?"

"Nothing, nothing. I want you to sit right here, and don't move, OK? Don't turn on the light, don't turn off the light. Don't even scratch your nose. We'll be right back. Just don't touch anything."

Dean made sure to lock the door behind him and the two got into the Impala driving off. "You sure leaving him alone is a good idea?" Bridget asked after a few miles.

"He'll be fine if he doesn't move."

She nodded slowly, not sure if she still agreed with the plan, but knowing if Sam came it put them more in danger to get at Bela. "So what's the idea behind getting into her house?"

"Easy. You can break through her security system with your handy dandy alarm trigger and we get in."

"But we can't touch the foot and we don't know where she has it."

He grinned. "She'll show us where it's at."

"Oh yeah, how?"

"We trick her. She'll see us coming in her security cameras meaning she'll go for the foot knowing we want it, we'll be inside by the time that happens."

"And from there?"

"We improvise?"

She shook her head in disbelief. "How very Bond of you."

Dean's smile stayed in place as they pulled up to the lavish one story pad. He took a gun from the glove compartment and Bridget pulled hers from her bag in the back, tucking it in the band of her shorts and grabbing her alarm kicker.

"Ready?"

"Let's get this done quick and get back to Sam," she nodded.

They approached the front door and Bridget assumed Bela had seen them on camera already. It took her seconds to pop the lock and turn off the security alarm. Dean jotted a note on a sticky pad and placed it on her alarm key in as he guided Bridget to the dark part of the living room.

Sure enough Bela came through the living room, not noticing them and paused when she saw her door open. She read the note that said Turn Around and did so, her gun in one hand a pair of tongs with the rabbit's foot in the other.

"You left without your tip," Bridget said, gun pointed. Not surprised that her dark hair had been a wig and she was a blonde.

Dean gestured at the foot with his gun. "You're gonna give it back."

Bela laughed, speaking with a British accent. "Sweetie, no I'm not."

"You do know it's cursed, don't you?" Dean asked her.

She shrugged setting the foot on a nearby dresser, "You'd be surprised what some people would pay for something like that."

"Really?" Dean said intrigued by the prospect of money.

"There's a lucrative market out there. A lot of money to be made. You Hunters with all those amulets and talismans you use to stop those big bad monsters. Any one of them could put your children's children through college."

Bridget changed the subject. "So you know the truth, about what's really going on out there and this is what you decide to do with it? You become a thief?"

"I procure unique items for a select clientele."

Dean nodded his head slowly moving around the room, getting Bela to move too, "Yeah. A thief."

"No, a great thief"

"Oh, let's not get cocky now," Bridget said. "After all, we did find you and break into your nice secure home."

"What's to stop me from shooting either one of you?"

"The fact you can only shoot one of us before the other kills you where you stand," Dean answered.

"How noble," she smiled.

"Look Bela, my brother, he touched the foot. And when you took it from him, his luck went from-"

She cut him off. "I know how it works."

"So then you know he's gonna die unless we can destroy it."

Bela blinked. "Oh... You can have the foot…for five million dollars."

"Nice. Yeah, I'll just call my Banker. How'd you even find the damn thing? Stuck in the back of some storage place, middle of nowhere."

Bela looked over her shoulder towards the fire place where a Ouija board sat. "I just asked a few ghosts of the people that it killed. They were very attuned to its location."

"So you're only out for yourself, huh? It's all about number one? You don't care if people die in the process," Bridget asked her, gun still pointed and the eagerness to shoot her and take it was overwhelming.

"Being a Hunter is so much more noble, is it? A bunch of obsessed, revenge-driven sociopaths trying to save a world that can't be saved."

Dean tisked. "Well aren't you a glass half-full?"

"We're all going to Hell, Dean. Might as well enjoy the ride."

"Oh I agree with you," he nodded. "But I'll just be taking this." He dangled the rabbit's foot from his hand. "Looks like you're not the only one with sticky fingers. If it's any consolation I think you're a truly awful person."

Bridget chuckled as she stood by Dean and Bela fired, missing them completely. They headed for the door, more bullets misfiring around them and made it to the car without any problems.

"Let's hurry and get back to Sam," she said.

"Don't worry, I got all the luck," he said holding the foot as he drove.

"Yeah, but Sam doesn't," she reminded him and felt the car go faster.

They were at the hotel within minutes and both were quick to notice another car in the parking lot that hadn't been there before along with other figured moving within Sam's room through the curtain.

She grabbed her gun, "Looks like we got trouble…"

Dean kissed the foot, "Don't worry we got this."

They made it inside the room as the older man had his gun to Sam's head and he was saying something to the other man in the room. "Shut up! It's God, Creedy. He led us here for one reason. To do his work. This is destiny."

Bridget cocked her gun causing the two men to look towards her and Dean.

"Nope, not destiny," she said. "Just a rabbit's foot."

"Put the gun down kids, or you're gonna be scraping brain off the wall," the one with the gun, Kubrick, said.

"What? This gun?" Dean asked and put it on the dresser and grabbed a pen that was lying there. "OK. But you see there's something about me that you don't know."

"What's that?"

He smiled, "It's my lucky day." He threw the pen and it landed perfectly in Kubrick's gun that had been pointed at them.

Sam seemed shocked and amazed and even Bridget chuckled in amusement, moving towards Sam to undo his bindings with the knife from her boot.

"Oh my God, did you see that?" Dean grinned.

Creedy lunged at Dean but he side stepped causing him to crash into the door. He picked up the TV remote and threw it at Kubrick, hitting him right between the eyes. "I'm amazing." Kubrick fell unconscious. "I'm Batman."

Sam stared at him unimpressed as the last of the rope was cut off him. "Yeah…you're Batman."

They were able to get to the cemetery without too much problem due to Dean having the foot. Sam only tripped twice as they arrived and started the ritual to end the curse. He sprinkled a powdery substance onto the embers of the fire. "All right. Bone ash, cayenne pepper, that should do it."

"Okay Dean, the foot…" she turned towards him and shook her head in disbelief…he was scratching more scratchers. "Dean!"

"One second…"

"Now Dean!" she growled.

"I'm bringing home the bacon," he grinned and slid the scratchers into his jacket pocket, slinging the jacket over the gravestone.

"All right, say goodbye "wascally wabbit"," he said to the foot.

A gun cocking had the three freeze and turn slowly. Bela stood there gun drawn with a smile. "I think you'll find that belongs to me. Or, you know, whatever. Put the foot down, honey."

"No. You're not going to shoot anybody. See I happen to be able to read people. OK, you're a thief, fine, but you're not-."

The gun went off and Sam fell with a groan clutching his shoulder.

"SAM!" Bridget yelled, kneeling down next to him to inspect it. It was a clear shoulder shot, straight through and nothing major was hit but it was still a bullet wound. She glared at the woman, "You stupid bitch…"

She pointed the gun at her, "The foot, or she's next."

"I'm gonna kick your ass so hard," Bridget growled and moved to stand.

"Back off, tiger. Back off. You make one more move and I'll pull the trigger," she looked at Dean. "You've got the luck, Dean. You I can't hit. But your brother? Him I can't miss. And I'm sure I can't miss your little girlfriend either."

"Who you calling little?" Bridget glared, one hand on Sam's shoulder. She could feel something rising in her with the anger as her necklace started getting warm.

"What the Hell is wrong with you? You don't just go around shooting people like that!" Dean yelled at her.

"Relax. It's a shoulder hit, I can aim. Besides, who here hasn't shot a few people. Put the rabbit's foot on the ground now."

"All right! All right. Take it easy" Dean moved to drop it but as it fell from his hand Bridget unleashed what she was holding and the foot flew towards Bela who caught it. Dean glanced at her with a frown and she smirked with a shrug, helping Sam sit up. He smiled back at her as Bela cursed, now stuck with the curse.

"Now, what do you say we destroy that ugly-ass piece of dead thing?" he asked her.

She swore again and dropped it in the fire, leaning on the headstone by it. "Thanks very much. I'm out one and a half million, and on the bad side of a very powerful, fairly psychotic buyer."

"Wow. I really don't feel bad about that. Sam?"

He was standing on his feet now, clutching his shoulder and shook his head. "Nope. Not even a little. Bridget?"

"Hmm, nope. If she were on fire and I had a bottle of water, I'd drink it."

"Hmm. Maybe next time I'll hang you out to dry," Bela said to her.

"Next time you'll be looking up at me from the floor as I knock you out," she promised her with a smile that caused her eyes to go cold.

"Oh don't go away angry, Bela, just go away," Dean told her.

She smirked and walked off into the dark, "Have a nice night."

Dean looked over at Sam. "You good?"

"I'll live." He nodded as Dean grabbed his jacket and they headed back towards the Impala.

I guess we're back to normal now, huh? No good luck, no bad luck. Oh! I forgot we're up $46000, I almost forgot about the... scratch tickets." He patted his pockets and a look of horror crossed his face. "That bitch!"

"What?" Sam asked as they reached the car.

"She stole the tickets! I swear to God I'll gut her and rip her eyeballs out her their socket and-"

"Relax," Bridget said and held up two of them. "She didn't get them all. I got five thousand right here…it's better than nothing."

Dean looked as if he might cry and grabbed her before she could react, pulling her into a hug. "You're the best Batgirl a Batman could have…and didn't Batman and Batgirl have a sexual thing?"

"Um…no, that was Catwoman and Batman," she patted his back and tucked the tickets into her boot. "Let's just get back to the hotel in one piece and worry about the scratchers later."

After a minor pit stop to get food for an overly hungry Dean, they made it back to the hotel. Dean was quick to eat and turn on the TV while Bridget took out peroxide and stitches kit she always carried. She sat on the bed next to Sam, ready to suture his shoulder.

"Sam, let me see your shoulder," Bridget said, needle in hand.

"It's fine. Just let me sleep," he said and tried to roll over but she rolled him back moving higher on the bed.

"Sam, let me fix your shoulder."

"I can do it myself," he said and tried to sit up, wincing at the pain.

"I know you can, but I'm here so you don't have to," she told him. "Take your jacket and shirt off."

"I can clean it myself," he repeated and tried to move her aside.

She moved his hand down and straddled his legs in one swift movement. "Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way. I'm game for either because it's not like I haven't stripped you of your clothes before."

"Oh God," Dean groaned from the other side of the bed. "I didn't need to hear that. I just ate."

She ignored him. "Well?"

Sam sighed, "Fine."

"Thank you," she grinned as she removed his shirt and started cleaning the area and starting the stitches. "And if I'm Batgirl, that makes you Robin."

Dean snorted, watching the TV. "Yeah, he would be the flamboyant one."

"I am not Robin," Sam protested.

"Then you're Aquaman."

Sam thought about it wincing slightly at the stitches in his back now. "I'd rather be Robin…least he becomes Nightwing."

Dean chuckled, "That means you're name's Dick."

Bridget shook her head as she finished the stitches. "You would make a six year old joke." She packed up her stitches kit and took off her gloves. "Next time I see that Bela bitch she's gonna eat asphalt."

"Girl on girl fight," Dean smiled. "There's a hot thought."

She gave him a point blank look as she set her stuff in her bag taking out her drawing pad. "Keep the thoughts, you'll need them for your lonely nights."

"A cursed foot that causes extreme luck and bad luck," Sam sighed getting comfortable. "What could possibly be next?"

Bridget flipped through the few pages of fairy tales from the Bog Bad Wolf to a poisonous apple to a spinning wheel. She stopped on the last of a girl asleep in a bed and a prince kneeling over her to kiss her. "Who knows…"

NEXT CHAPTER COMING VERY SOON AND ITS DIFFERENT FROM THE EPISODE BY FAR