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Chapter title is from song by Black Sabbath.
23
Paranoid – Black Sabbath
"Did you see? Is she?" Sam asked the minute they were in the car alone.
"What? A ball of light? Not human?" His answer was waspish. His arm ached, and the feral ninja was a puzzle wrapped in a mystery wrapped in an enigma with a kid. It was enough to give him a headache, and he no longer got headaches.
Sam practically buzzed with impatience for an answer.
"I. Don't. Know. Sammy."
He really hoped that would be the end of it, except Sam's eyes squinted. Dean groaned.
"So, she's not human?"
He was going to be forced to admit something he didn't want to admit.
"I can't tell."
Sam stopped for a full minute.
"What do you mean you can't tell? Can't you look and, you know, see?"
Dean grit his teeth.
"No."
"Why?"
Sam was going to be the death of him, one of these days, with the questions.
"Because the demon has a hard time looking at her, okay? It's like, remembered pain or something, okay?"
Sam blinked, and a dangerously pleased expression went across his face.
"Sam. Whatever you're thinking, don't. These things never end well."
The truth of that put a little damper on the bubble of hope Sam had been riding. Sam glanced over in his direction, taking note of the cautious way he was sitting. Sam's forehead creased with concern.
"Your arm still hurt?"
He flexed his right hand and winced. Sam's frown deepened.
"Should we call Cas?"
He looked out the window. "We can't go running to Cas every time something happens. Dude's got his own problems."
"Dean. A zombie bit you. You." Sam repeated for emphasis, like he wasn't aware of the implications of that fact. "We haven't run across anything that can do that."
"Oh, like we've been challenging ourselves with the things we've been hunting?"
Sam shrugged off his sarcasm impatiently. "I'm calling Cas."
"Whatever. Leave me out of it."
Sam shot a worried glance at the brusqueness in his tone.
"Yeah. Fine."
"Fine. Whatever."
They ended up in Johnstown, the complete opposite direction of Utica. Dean couldn't say he was all that surprised at the misdirect. He was just glad she hadn't tried to lose them on the thruway, which would have been the cherry topping on the cake of a day.
And now Cas was staring at him again.
"They're not zombies." Cas said absently, his attention on the red-green bite marks on Dean's arm. He prodded the arm with two fingers, closed his eyes to focus, but nothing happened.
Cas frowned more, a bit worriedly.
"Hmm."
"What?"
"I don't know if I can heal you, Dean."
"Is it?" The question on Sam's tongue was if Cas' grace reserves were running low.
"No." Cas paused awkwardly. "Dean's demonic aura is getting in the way."
"My aura?" Dean said dangerously. He didn't want an aura, demonic or not. It was too close to crystals and Sedona for comfort.
"The Mark of Cain is getting in the way." Cas amended.
That was better.
Sam, however, looked like he caught a bug up his butt.
"What?"
Sam glowered. "You know what this means, don't you?"
"Really, Dean. You should be more careful. Seriously, do I have to do everything around here?"
Crowley was smug. Well, smugger than normal, which took some doing. Sam glared, because there was nothing else he could do but glare.
Dean sat quietly, arm held gingerly still beside him on the wildly floral bedspread. Crowley leaned forward to get a closer look.
"Interesting." Crowley mused thoughtfully. Crowley poked at the two green-red fang marks on Dean's wrist, then frowned. "Well. They're not zombies. Exactly."
"What are they?" Cas demanded sharply.
Crowley ignored Cas and tapped Dean on the head, earning himself an irate look in the process.
"How are you feeling, Laverne? That time of the month? Got any strange cravings?"
Dean glared at Crowley. "Just fix it."
Crowley's gaze turned considering as he studied Dean, before he shrugged himself straight.
"Fine. Suffer in your manly silence. Pay attention now, Squirrel. You do...this." He tapped the bite marks with a finger while holding Dean's gaze, some kind of demon-to-demon telepathy. Sam glared harder. The bite marks disappeared.
Sam scowled.
Dean shook his arm out, wriggling numbness out of his fingers. "Huh."
"Mind you, there are limits." Crowley cautioned. "The Mark of Cain ties you to this body, so don't go testing your limits until you're all done marinating and can handle it." Crowley frowned at where the bite marks had been. "And I'd stay away from these things altogether if I were you."
Cas drew himself up to his full height, looming over Crowley. "What are they, Crowley?"
"Now, now, Shirley. We're all on the same side now, like it or not."
Cas' eyes narrowed dangerously, and a flicker of grace danced across his fingertips.
Crowley crooked his head with an its-your-funeral shrug. "Whatever bit Laverne here didn't just bite him. In the flesh, so to speak. It bit into his power; took a little bit of the demon with the bite. Very curious. Ingenious, even."
"That's not possible."
Crowley shrugged again. "Possible or not, it happened. You saw it for yourself. It's more than a flesh wound. Or are you losing your sight along with the rest of your powers?"
Cas sniffed.
"This is something you made?"
"Me? I've got all Hell to run. Besides, making monsters has never been our department, mate. That's more" and he pointed up with his forefinger. "Upstairs, if you know what I mean. Creation, and all that."
"Heaven would do no such thing."
"You hold on to that thought if it makes you happy. I had nothing to do with it." Crowley smiled, his usual brand of smarmy, only it didn't seem like his heart was in it. "Now, if you boys don't mind, do try not to call for a while."