Chapter title is from song by Bad Company.
24
Stranger Stranger –Bad Company
Zee doubled the thickness of the salt line at the motel room door and stepped back to consider it. The white line ran all the way around the perimeter of the room, and she was still not sure the man next door couldn't just step across it.
"Don't you trust Dean?" Toby asked.
She carried the pizza that had just been delivered to the table and set it down before answering.
"I don't know yet."
Toby plonked himself into a chair.
"He seems okay."
"He's a demon. You can't trust demons."
"Why not?"
She set a napkin in front of him and handed him a bottle of water from the mini-bar.
"They're monsters. Just like all the other monsters."
"Dean seems different." Toby directed his words at the pizza, looking at his choices. Hawaiian or pepperoni. He took a slice of the pepperoni.
She chose the other, and sat down. That may be true, for now, but sooner or later, he would turn. Sooner or later, Sam would be forced to use that angel blade that had been in his hand.
Standing at the edge of the clearing, she had hesitated. The exorcism had died on her lips. Maybe it was the same whatever it was that made Toby think Dean was okay. Maybe it was the expression on Sam's face.
Not yet.
Please.
It had been a break in discipline. Probably a mistake.
What had happened at Elijah's had made the rounds on the rumor mill. It sounded like a story, added to all the other stories about the brothers. What Dean did, how he was doing it, it was impossible. It should have been impossible. The things he was capable of with the First Blade—to fight back to human from that—she took a deep breath.
Garth was one thing. Garth was a teddy wolf. Garth still cried at the sappy bits in movies and tried to save pain-in-the-ass hunters like Travis. Dean Winchester was something else entirely.
Green eyes black eyes and back again. The strength of will in the him vibrating like a force, trying to hold back the red hot lava flow of destruction seething beneath the surface of his skin. He couldn't do it forever. It was just a matter of time. One day he would fail, and one day his brother would have to do what needed to be done.
In the end, family meant nothing to a demon.
She re-focused on the slice of pizza in her hand. Toby had half of his attention on the Captain America movie playing on TV, chewing absently.
The bit with the holy water had been a surprise. Unfortunately, all it did was reinforce Toby's impression that Dean was someone he liked.
Toby took another slice of pizza and glanced in her direction again.
"He helped us. He killed the zombies."
"Hmm."
It was hard to argue with the logic in that. It was hard not to see how tightly he had held on to his brother's arm, like it was a lifeline to his humanity. It was hard not to notice how gently he had held on to Toby.
This was just expedient. For now, she needed them, the power in that magic, zombie killing blade. The zombies were worse. Mother, whatever she was, needed to be taken care of. After that, they'd be quits and go their separate ways. And for all his Peace Corp mannerisms, Sam Winchester was no pushover. He knew well enough what the future held.
It wasn't her problem.
Dean Winchester was waiting for them when they headed out to breakfast the next morning, leaning against the railing of the motel balcony, two cups of take-out coffee in his hands. He smiled a lopsided smile, a flash of charm that didn't go at all to his eyes, and extended one of the cups in her direction.
"Truce?"
She eyed the cup before eyeing him, her look flat and unfriendly. Her birthday wasn't yesterday.
"You're kidding me."
Green eyes narrowed at her. "What? You don't drink coffee?"
"Yeah, and I take apples from random old crones knocking on my door too. What all did you put in that?"
"Holy water." Toby supplied from beside her.
"There are worse things. Roofies for one."
Toby's eyebrows pulled together. "What's that?"
"Stuff that puts you to sleep when you don't want to."
Dean made a slightly choked noise that might have been an outraged cough.
"Don't sugarcoat anything for the kid, why don't you?"
Her lips pulled taut. Teach the kid, don't teach the kid. She wished he would make up his mind.
"Toby, go get our own holy water from the room, yeah?"
Toby nodded, taking the key card from her hand before dashing off. She scanned the short distance, watching him go in the door before turning back to Dean.
"If you wanted to know, why not just ask?"
She pulled the silver dagger from her boot as she spoke. With practiced motions, she pulled up her sleeve and made the usual cut on her forearm, holding it out to show him, red human blood welling up in a thin line on her skin. She reversed the blade and handed it to him, hilt first, so he could see it was true silver.
He inspected both with far more care than was warranted. He handed her back her blade slowly, watching where she tucked it into her boot, memorizing the location of the hidden weapon. She dropped her eyes as she pulled the bandana from her pocket and wrapped the cut on her arm, thinking hard. They were both acting off, him and Sam, and even though these tests were as standard as handshakes in their world, there was something more to it.
Before she could finish the thought, Toby's footsteps sounded behind her. Toby glanced at the bandana on her arm, an alarmed question in his eyes.
"Just proving I'm human. Hunter stuff."
Toby threw an accusing look at Dean.
"I could have told you that." Toby said, handing her the bottle of holy water he had retrieved.
Dean leaned back slightly. It had to be mostly reflex. She didn't have any illusions about being able to get the drop on him, but there he was, backing up anyway as if he thought she could. It was almost funny.
"Relax. I'm not going to use it on you."
Pure skepticism met her words. When the shoe was on the other foot, he wasn't so big on the whole trust thing either. She gave the proffered coffee in his hand a speaking look. See?
He scowled.
She uncapped the water and took a swig from it.
They all waited two seconds.
"Want to check it?" She probably shouldn't have, but she couldn't resist. The ridiculous irony of the situation was a little too much.
The corners of his mouth pulled down.
"Ha ha. Very funny."
She held back an arch look. Under normal circumstances, he could have taken a sip from the coffee to prove it was harmless. He didn't, because he couldn't, unless he wanted to be spitting smoke for the next two minutes. She wasn't sure if a roofie would affect him at all; demon physiology had advantages. She handed the water to Toby, even though she was pretty sure it was mostly her he was worried about.
Toby drank and glared at Dean defiantly.
His lips pursed slightly, grudgingly. Still, he didn't move out of their way. It was like he had been so sure she would fail the test he hadn't made a backup plan.
Fortunately for him, Sam chose that moment to join them.
"Morning." Sam said a little too brightly.
Without another word, Dean handed Sam the cup of questionable coffee and threw a dark look in her direction. Sam accepted the tall paper cup with the ease of habit, and took a sip gratefully before he realized everyone was staring at him.
"What?"
"Nothing." They replied at the same time, tones equally curt.
Sam's eyebrows hitched upwards.
Toby, however, was still staring at Sam intently.
"Do you feel sleepy?" Toby asked.
Dean glared at her as Sam's eyebrows went higher.
"No. Why?"
"Zee thought there might be roofies in the coffee."
The bottom edge of Sam's lip tucked in and he glanced at her. She met that measuring hazel gaze without flinching. He squatted down to nearly Toby's eye level, and looked the kid straight in the eye.
"The coffee's fine. I feel fine." Sam said sincerely. "We wouldn't do that. We just want to help you."
The look Toby gave him was surprisingly sharp.
"You want to help us." Toby corrected. "You won't hurt Zee either, right?"
Sam took a quick glance up, noting the water and the makeshift bandage on her arm, meeting Dean's eyes, catching Dean's almost imperceptible nod before answering.
"Of course."
Toby looked at Dean, blue eyes staring harder than he had a right to at that age. Waiting.
They were going to be here all morning. She stepped in, a reluctant sense of fairness forcing the words out.
"Toby. It's standard stuff. It's only fair they know we're human too."
Something in her words made Sam's head snap in her direction. Impossible hope, impossible desperation, all there in his eyes, just for a second. She would have thought she imagined it, except Dean stiffened, before whatever it was dropped off Sam's face, erased, replaced by the puppy eyes of a golden retriever and the smiling dimples of a six year old, more harmless than harmless, and she didn't believe it for a second. She ran her words back in her mind, but couldn't spot the trigger.
Sam was still beaming at her.
"Great! Where are you guys off to? Breakfast?"
Oh no. They might be working a job together, but they weren't doing this. Meal sharing, caring camaraderie crap.
"Mmm." She answered, vague and non-committal. She held out a hand for Toby, and he put his in hers. She turned to move around the brothers, hoping they'd go off and do whatever it was they did.
Sam fell in step alongside and addressed his questions to Toby.
"It usually takes a while to figure out where's good in a town. What do you like?"
Toby looked at her, waiting for her begrudging nod before he answered Sam.
"Waffles." Then his natural inclination to chatter took over. "Pecan waffles. With whipped cream."
Sam's face twitched at the mention of whipped cream. "Sounds good. Mind if we come along?"
"Sam." Dean's voice came from behind them.
Toby looked at her again, wanting permission.
She hesitated. In about a million ways, this was a bad idea. She looked at Toby's face, eager for someone new to talk to, some variation from the monotony of another day in lockdown. The kid needed balance. Not that the Winchesters were the ideal candidates for that—pretty much anyone else, possibly Ferdie excepted, would have been better—but it wasn't like there were a whole lot of choices on the menu.
Fuck.
She nodded curtly, just the once.
In that same moment, Sam glanced back at Dean. Again, the brothers talked without speaking, a whole conversation in one look. Whatever the content of the exchange, Dean moved off his position at the railing, expression tight with the same reluctance she felt as he fell into step behind them. He resumed his pastime of trying to bore holes into the back of her head with his eyes—he wasn't being subtle about it—and she just refrained from turning around and asking what the hell now.
Fantastic. This was going to be the world's longest breakfast.