Careful What You Wish For

Chapter Four

We Meant to Do That.

Dean just needed a few hours of catnap time. He couldn't drive without sleep, and he certainly couldn't pull off a twenty-four hour trip from Virginia to South Dakota with how frazzled his brain felt. Sam didn't begrudge him that rest. It was important that they stay safe. Sleeping was part of that safety. An overtired hunter made stupid mistakes, cost others their lives. Sam offered to keep watch, just in case. Angels and demons alike had it out for Kayla.

He kept himself occupied by doing more research. Digging around in old police files, he found the reports of the accident that had claimed the life of her father. It had happened during Tropical Storm Josephine, when a tree apparently came down in front of Martin's car. Four year old Kayla had been strapped in her car seat in the back, and had miraculously survived the crash with minor lacerations to her back. Martin apparently hadn't been so lucky. The words 'grisly' and 'gruesome' kept coming up in the article, but with no clear description or picture of what happened, Sam's imagination took over.

He saved the article to his Mac and glanced around the room to check on the others. Dean was still sprawled out on his stomach, with one pillow pulled over his head to block out the light. He was still out cold, and would be until Sam said his name directly. It was a great knack they'd both picked up over the years hunting. But Kayla. Half of the covers had been thrown back, and her arm lay over her eyes now. Sam hoped that she was just restlessly turning; Cass had thrown her into a deep sleep after all. Hadn't he?

He had one of those nagging suspicions. The sort of thing that made him often wonder if the demon-blood was still working through his veins. If the forces of Heaven and Hell wanted her, shouldn't she be stronger? He rose and walked over to the bedside, intent on fixing the blankets for her. If she were still hypothermic, she needed the warmth the layers of blankets would provide her. But as he flipped them up and over her, her eyes flew open.

Sam heard her drawing a breath, and knew she would be gearing up to scream, so he clamped a hand down over her mouth, stifling it. She struggled to get her hands free of the blankets and finally managed to grab his arm. Fighting against him, she kicked at the blankets until her legs were free, and then tried to kick him in the stomach.

Sam kept trying to shush her, not wanting to hurt her. He kept casting glances over at Dean, waiting for his brother to wake up to the sounds of the scuffle. Dean just burrowed his face deeper into the mattress and ignored them. Finally, Sam got fed up, and leaned hard onto Kayla's face and chest. Her eyes went wide as she sunk down into the mattress, her air supply cut off by Sam's huge hand.

"Look," he whispered urgently. "You need to calm the hell down, so we can talk like rational, civilized people. No screaming. No shouting. And no waking up my brother, got it?"

Fear tempered with understanding greeted him. She couldn't nod or respond or anything while he held her down. Easing back, shifting his hand away from her nose, he listened to the huge breath she took. After a few moments, her breathing settled down a little, and he let up on her further. Pausing before he took his hand away, he made sure she understood him one last time. Finally, he straightened completely, releasing her.

Kayla was up out of the bed in an instant, backing herself into a corner as far from Sam as she could possibly get. She seemed to do a bodily check, tugging her still damp shirt down against her skin. Finally, she straightened a little.

"Wha-" she started speaking loudly, but a stern look from Sam dropped her voice to a whisper. "What do you want with me? Why do you keep following me?"

"We're trying to keep you safe," Sam countered. He lowered himself until he was sitting on the edge of the bed, watching her. "You're making it hard, but we're used to that. I'm telling you the truth, Kayla. We don't want you to get hurt."

Her eyes flicked toward Dean on the other bed. She unleashed a shaky breath and rake a hand through her salt-crusted hair. Her green eyes rolled around the room, as though searching for a method of escape. Sam sat between her and the door, and he looked fast. He also looked concerned, like he expected her to disappear at any second. She took a deep breath and banked on doing just that. Closing her eyes, she pictured her room back at her aunt and uncle's house in Texas.

"Kayla," Sam's voice held a plea, causing her to crack one eye open at him. "Don't. We can't help you if you pop out on us. We can't figure out why these people are after you if you're not here to help us. You're the key to all of this, and if you keep running, they will catch you. I don't know what happens after that."

Kayla opened her other eye. Again, she shot a glance at Dean, sleeping soundly not ten feet from her. They had a snowball's chance in hell of keeping her safe. "On one condition," she made him promise. "You tell me exactly what's going on."

"We will." Sam obliged her. "Once we figure it out, you'll be the first to know."

Dean had been at least somewhat agreeable when Sam woke him. Confused as all hell, that the girl was awake and moving after Cass had promised she'd stay out. But his own stomach was in-line with hers, and she had an appetite that could easily put Dean to shame. She had even gone ahead and donated some cash for the meal, in the form of a few damp and salty ten dollar bills. Two burgers later, she beat Dean to the question of finishing off Sam's half-eaten meal.

As Sam was pushing over the wrapper, and exchanging a bemused glance with his brother, Kayla's eyes widened suddenly. She began to move before either brother understood completely what was going on. Knocking her chair over backwards, she fell trying to back away, pointing behind them.

"Why haven't you left yet?" Castiel demanded from behind Dean. "Why is she awake?"

"Easy, there, Cass," Dean got out of his chair to block the angel from advancing further. "Oh..." Angels, plural he realized, as Balthazar lurked behind Cass sourly.

"Kayla, he's a friend of ours," Sam dropped to his knees beside her, trying to help her back up.

She made motions with her hands, that looked to Sam like stabbings. "But he-" Then she closed her fists, and opened them up again like explosions. "And they-" Her back finally found a wall, and with Sam's help she got back to her feet. "And I really, really don't want to be here right now."

"I'm trying to protect you." Castiel ignored Dean, pushing past him. "Those angels were trying to collect you for some reason. We need to know why."

Letting Cass by was the easy part, Dean kept vigil over what Balthazar was doing. But for the moment, he was simply observing, watching with the strange sense of detachment that the angels all seemed to pull off. Except for Cass. Cass was too vested in humanity to be so cold all of the time.

Sam put himself between the angel and the girl, making sure Cass didn't get too close. "Cass," Sam's voice held a note of warning. "You're scaring her. Maybe you should just... back off for a minute."

"We should scare her." Balthazar chose the moment to speak up. He stepped forward into Dean's personal space, and then raised a single brow waiting for the human to move. Dean stepped aside, but not before glowering his best at the angel. Unmoved, Balthazar just rolled his eyes at the posturing, and stood beside Castiel. "It's what we do to her kind."

His eyes focused on Kayla with such intensity that she instinctively stepped behind Sam. He felt her fingers grab his arm for support, squeezing hard. Sam saw the sudden questioning look Cass threw at his former brother, but he wondered why no words were exchanged between them.

"Look, Cass," Balthazar's tone took on pity, even as he fixed his gaze on the girl behind Sam. "I'm only going to say this once... don't get involved with that abject monstrosity." The rogue angel sighed, and turned to wave his fingers at Dean. "Cheerio, chaps. Don't say you weren't warned."

In a blink he was gone. Castiel started to speak, but halted himself, turning to glance from Sam to Dean quickly. "Get her somewhere safe. I'll find answers." Before his voice had even faded away, he vanished as well. Sam and Dean stared at each other, unsure of what just went down. In the cold silence that followed, Kayla started to cry, hard, wracking sobs.

The sound kicked both of them into action. Dean swept the trash off the table into the can, and grabbed the duffel bags. They'd lingered long enough. Castiel was right about that. Dean would pack the car while Sam dealt with the crying girl. Sam was just better at that all around. His own brain was spinning. For one, Balthazar knew what was going on; or at least part of it. Cass was in the dark, an unusual quality for his own personal angel. And the girl didn't have the foggiest idea of what was revolving around her.

He unlocked the trunk and opened the special compartment. He was going to keep a bottle of the holy oil ready just in case they had a run in with Raphael or one of his cronies. Driving with shotguns in the front seat would be dangerous, but he figured it might be worth the risk. Rock salt rounds would do wonders if they ran into more demons. Getting her to Bobby's was suddenly a priority. The panic room would be ideal to keep her safe from both sets of legions out to get her.

As he closed the trunk, and circled around to the driver's side, the motel room door opened briefly to reveal Sam and Kayla. She was wrapped up in his jacket, her eyes red rimmed and puffy. But the set of her jaw was resolute, and something in her neon green eyes was hard as stone. Dean admired the spunk she was showing. A lesser person would have probably wilted at seeing two angels, but then again, a lesser person couldn't pop from Savannah, Georgia, to Myrtle Beach, Virginia in less than a second. He fed the shotguns through the window into the front seat, and straightened while Sam got Kayla settled into the back.

Casting a questioning look at Sam, he relied on the miracle of brotherly communication to get his question across. She gonna hold up?

Sam's shrug and scowl spoke just as clearly back to him. Your guess is as good as mine.

"We're being followed," Kayla's voice was tiny from the back seat.

"We know." Sam twisted slightly in the seat, first glancing at Kayla, then quickly back to the headlights that tailed them. They're good, he thought, keeping far back and taking parallel streets. The Impala hadn't even made it out of Myrtle Beach yet, the highway turn-off they needed was still a good thirty miles away. The high-rise party city was beginning to give way to the smaller, yet no less expensive private homes lining the beach.

Kayla huddled down a little further into Sam's jacket, suppressing a shiver and holding back any other words she might have. Dean's eyes jumped from the road to his rear view every thirty seconds or so, keeping tabs on the tail and trying to plot his next move. Beside him, Sam was already calling up a map of the area onto his Blackberry.

"Take this right, then your third left." Sam instructed, pointing. Dean followed directions quickly, checking his rearview to make sure they were biting.

"What do you think? Ups or downs?" Dean's grin quirked slightly. Kayla hadn't asked what Castiel and Balthazar were yet, so he was betting dollars that she was still in the dark about the whole deal. Sam cast him a glance.

"Probably ang- ups." Sam countered. "They know she's here, and Cass already fended them off once."

"Yeah, and it's our fault for not getting her gone sooner."

Dean almost growled under his breath as he found the third left Sam had mentioned. It was a long, dead end alleyway, so Dean pulled all the way to the front. Before Sam got out, he turned around in his seat. Kayla's green eyes were huge, brimming with questions. Patting her knee gently, he sighed.

"We'll try to answer anything you want to know on the way to Bobby's, okay? But right now, you need to keep your head down, and stay out of sight." Sam waited until she had curled up on her side, laying across the back seat of the Impala before he got out to join his brother.

Dean already had the banishing sigil drawn on the trunk. Blood still dripped down his fingers but in classic Winchester fashion, he completely ignored the self-inflicted wound for the greater good. Lifting the trunk, Dean leaned over like he was rummaging around, looking for something. They were setting up whatever was in that car. The sigil only worked if the angels were nearby. No car drove by them, nothing happened for a few long minutes. Dean looked up from the trunk, looking around the alleyway.

"Maybe we lost 'em?" he sounded hopeful. Tangling with angels wasn't high on his To Do list.

"Maybe it's not angels," Sam provided. "I mean, what angel do we know that drives a car when they want to go somewhere?"

Dean raised a brow. That was a good point in fact. Scrubbing his face with his hand, Dean was about to get really angry if he'd defaced his car for absolutely nothing at all. He remained silent for a few seconds, and Sam shrugged. Cautiously, they both began to walk toward the mouth of the alleyway. Sam had his shotgun from the front seat of the car, while Dean had the demon-killing knife clutched in his right hand. Neither would do anything more than piss an angel off, but they were better than nothing.

Sam peered out of the alley first, glancing to his left down the street. Nothing. Dean poked his head around the corner for the right side, and also found nothing. Sam adjusted the shotgun to the barrel rested on his shoulder, and then scratched his head thoughtfully.

Maybe they had lost the car. Or maybe their paranoia had gotten the better of them. Dean gave himself a shake, as though that would clear his head. Sam turned back to the Impala, and was the first to notice. A lone figure stood by the passenger door, peering in through the window. Grabbing his brother's arm to catch his attention, Sam began to run back toward it.

Time seemed to slow down to a crawl. The brothers felt like they couldn't sprint fast enough, as the figure opened the back door and reached inside. Kayla gave a shriek as she was grabbed by the hair. Sam lowered his shoulder, and lunged forward in a body-tackle that threw them both against the Impala's open door. Dean hauled down on the open trunk, slamming it closed with unnecessary force. Just so he could throw his cut palm down on the sigil, activating it.

Blinding white light washed through the alleyway, the big man's shout of anger drowned out Kayla's cries of fear. But when the brilliance of the banishing sigil faded, only three of them remained. Sam was on the ground, half propped up against the Impala's open rear door. Kayla was hanging out of that opening, having been half-dragged by her hair. Dean leaned over the trunk, his forehead resting on a spot of cool, clean metal.

Sam helped Kayla sit herself back up, picking himself off the ground in the process. Dean patted the Impala's trunk, apologizing to the car for the damage they'd just wrought to it. Sam tested the door, and found it closed still, but protested being opened once more. He winced as he looked at his brother, and Dean just sighed. He was too tired, and too confused right now to even be angry about it. As they sunk into their respective seats, Kayla leaned forward.

"Who was that? And what did you just do to him?" Her voice held steady, but every inch of her body shook like a leaf in a hurricane. Sam turned in his seat slightly, as Dean began to back out of the alleyway.

"I promised you we'd tell you what was happening," Sam began as gently as he could. "We're still not completely sure why, but... that man wasn't a man at all..."

It took Sam all of two hours to explain about angels and demons and all the other things that go bump in the night. Dean thought that Kayla took it all remarkably well. She had no questions for them; in fact she said absolutely nothing for the better part of the next twelve hours. Every time Dean thought she had fallen asleep, he'd glance into the rear view mirror and find her staring out the window, worrying on her lower lip. She hardly dared to step out of the car when they stopped for snacks, and gas.

Sam kept talking at her though. As if his voice would eventually break through the wall of self-imposed silence she had constructed around her. He told her stories, dozens of them, some funny, some painful, of all the things they had hunted as brothers, all the pain they had gone through together. Twelve hours had gotten them almost halfway. It was well past midnight, at a truck stop in Tennessee that she finally broke her silence.

"Castiel is one of the good ones," Sam was telling her, leaning against the side of the Impala while he watched the digital numbers on the pump roll through. "He rebelled for us, took a stand against his brothers, because he believed in us. There were times we didn't even believe in each other..." Sam trailed off, his eyes flicking to the convenience store's front window, where Dean had just dumped an armload of snacks on the register counter.

"Sam?" Kayla's voice was quiet and shaking, her hand stuck out of the back window just enough to touch his arm. Instantly, Sam bent over, offering her a warm smile, inviting her to continue. "Wh-whatever is going to happen... you and Dean can keep me safe, right?"

"Yeah, we will. We promise. Castiel will help, so will Bobby, you'll see."

Kayla didn't answer immediately; instead, she dropped her eyes from his face, and pulled her hand back into the car. That hand dropped to her lap, where it wrung nervously with her other one. "Every... instinct... I have tells me to keep running. But I won't. I..."

Sam reached into the car, resting his hand on her shoulder, hoping the weight was comforting in some way. "I know. We want to figure out why they're after you too. We'll get answers. It's what we do." Dean was headed toward them, juggling two bags of goodies. "After you eat, you should try to get some sleep. It's a long way to Bobby's..."