"So what happened?" Ella asked curiously. "How'd the hunt go?"

I held the phone in between my shoulder and ear as I pulled on my shoes. "We found Kevin in Iowa; I met Crowley; and he killed Kevin's girlfriend."

"Oh, my God!" she gasped. "That's awful!"

I ignored that statement, deciding it was too obvious to comment on. "Also, Sam's really hot when he's mad, and it's super annoying," I said offhandedly.

She giggled. "Of course ya'd think that."

"What, that he's hot or that it's annoying?"

"Both."

"Eh, fair point."

"So how're things goin' with them? Ya still holdin' grudges?" I could tell she was trying to keep a conversational tone instead of being super serious, but it didn't really work out that well.

I didn't know what to say. On the one hand, I was getting over the fact that they were Winchesters. They were good hunters, and, as far as I could tell, they were decent people. On the other hand, I was always slow to trust anyone. I didn't like getting attached to people—the last time I'd done that, one of them ended up dead, and I was still grieving. Ella was the only person I wanted to be close to, and that was because it was already too late for me to turn back. I cared about her, and that was enough for me. Opening up to two new people who I viewed as a threat to mine and Ella's relationship wasn't going to be easy, and I wasn't sure that I actually wanted it to happen.

"They're not their father," I said finally, figuring that would satisfy her for the time being.

"I knew ya'd come around! So where to next?"

"We're gonna go get the demon tablet—"

"Wait, so now there's a demon tablet?"

"Apparently. Also apparently, there's a spell on there that can close the Gates of Hell forever, so that's something."

"Holy crap!"

"My thoughts exactly."

"Where's the tablet?"

"Kevin hid it somewhere. He hasn't told us yet." I paused for a minute, thinking about Kevin's fury. He didn't strike me as the kind of person to get angry easily or as the kind of person who would be okay with hurting so much as a fly. But he had been completely serious when he'd said he wanted in on killing Crowley, and some part of me really hoped he never got the chance to. Even after what he'd been through the past year, he still seemed so innocent and young, and I didn't want him to lose that. Not like I did. He should be able to act like a teenager for a couple more years at least. He shouldn't have to deal with this.

"Gari?" Ella said worriedly. "Ya there?"

I shook my head to clear it. "Yeah, I'm here. Just thinking. Sorry, Elle."

Just then, Sam poked his head into my hotel room. "You ready to go?" he asked, and I nodded.

He waited by the door as Ella said, "Do I needa let ya go?"

"Yeah, we're about to head out," I replied. "I'll let you know how everything goes, okay?"

"'Kay! Say hi to everyone for me!"

"Will do. Later, Elle."

I hung up and slung my bag over my shoulder. "How's she doing?" Sam asked me as we left the room.

I shrugged. "Fine, I guess. She sounded kinda sad."

He nodded. "Probably because we're all hunting again. She always got really lonely when the three of us would go off together."

"Yeah, and now that she's used to you being around all the time, it's probably worse."

"Yeah…" He frowned. "I hate that we have to leave her."

I narrowed my eyes at him. "So you really care about her, huh?"

"We got really close with you and Dean gone," he said, giving the same reason that Ella had given me. "She's like a sister to me."

"I'm, uh…I'm glad you were there with her," I said quietly, watching my feet as we walked. "I'm glad she didn't have to go through it alone."

"She helped me just as much as I helped her—maybe more." I looked back up at him when he paused, and when he continued, I could tell he was uncomfortable. "You heard what she said—how desperate I got. If it hadn't been for Elle, who knows what would've happened to me?"

"I dunno; you don't seem like the kinda guy who'd do something super crazy."

He let out a mirthless laugh. "I keep forgetting you don't know me very well."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'll tell you about it one day."

"I'll hold you to that, Winchester."

"I'm counting on it, Vulcan." He grinned at me, and I was unable to stop myself from beaming back at him. Just because I was by no means okay with the idea of getting attached to Sam didn't mean that I didn't occasionally enjoy being around him, and I couldn't help but like the look he got on his face when we were getting along. But that doesn't mean anything. He's cute; that's it. No attachments, just physical attraction. I can deal with that. And I was going to keep repeating that to myself until I made it true.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

Dean was still grumbling to himself about our decision to head to Neighbor, Michigan and check on Kevin's mom before finding the tablet. I couldn't blame the kid for being worried—after what happened to his girlfriend, there was no telling what Crowley might've had in store for his mother. When we got to his house, Dean had spotted two demons keeping tabs on Mrs. Tran, and I knew then that we were going to have to come to her rescue.

"You guys are really okay with this?" I asked Sam quietly after he'd killed the second demon—and its vessel. That knife they had was really handy, but I couldn't help but think of the poor, helpless soul inside that died every time a demon did. "Killing innocent people? There's gotta be another way, right?"

Sam looked surprised, and then he looked guilty. "The knife kills demons; it doesn't just exorcise them. If there was an exorcism that killed them, that's what we'd do. But this is quick." He got a funny look on his face as he said, "Besides, we can't all kill demons with our minds."

I could see his point, of course, but it didn't mean I really liked it. I wasn't going to lie and say I hadn't killed a few people—it had taken me a while to work out the kinks of my powers, and not all of the vessels had survived at first. But, even though it still made me weak, it was better than what they did—at least to me.

Sam, Dean, and I stayed out of sight on either side of the door as Kevin knocked eagerly. The door opened, revealing Mrs. Tran with a look of utmost joy and relief on her face. "Hi, Mom," Kevin said warmly.

Tears flooded Mrs. Tran's eyes. "Oh, Kevin!" She rushed forward to hug him, but the boys stepped in at that moment and splashed her in the face with holy water. She spluttered confusedly, blinking water out of her eyes. "What—"

"She's clean," Dean said, and Kevin grinned and hugged his mom, who cried into his shoulder.

Suddenly, Sam frowned. "You smell that?" he asked, and, as he said it, the stench of sulfur hit my nose. We entered the house to find a woman in the dining room with black smoke pouring out of her mouth, the demon inside her trying to make its escape. Sam's eyes widened and he jumped into action. "Et secta diabolica omnis congregatio, omnis legio, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii, omnis immundus spiritus, exorcizamus te!" The demon smoke flew back into the woman, and Dean lunged at her and stabbed her with the knife. Both Mrs. Tran and the woman let out screams as the demon's vessel flickered with orange light before falling to the ground.

"Eunice!" Mrs. Tran shrieked.

Dean shook his head. "That's not Eunice."

I looked up at Sam, completely in awe. "How the hell'd you say it backwards so quickly?"

He shrugged sheepishly. "I dunno; I just…did it."

"You're a major fucking dork."

"Yeah, kinda."

"That was seriously super cool, though."

"Heh. Thanks."

"Mom, hey," Kevin said, holding his mom by the shoulders and staring into her eyes. She was still breathing heavily and looking panicked, but the sight of her son seemed to calm her down. "Let's go sit down, okay? We've got a lot to talk about." He ushered her into the living room and onto the couch, and he sat down beside her. "So, first of all," he said, getting right down to business, "because this is kinda the most important part: I'm a Prophet of the Lord."

Her eyes widened in disbelief. "You're a what?"

"Look, I know it sounds crazy, but it's true," Kevin said earnestly. "And I was kidnapped because I'm the only one that can read this tablet thing—Sam, Dean, and Gari found one of the tablets last year, and that activated me as a Prophet. That's why I ran away in the first place: so I could find the tablet and keep it safe." Yet another adventure I know nothing about.

I could see the skepticism on Mrs. Tran's face, and it seemed that Sam could, too, for he spoke to her in calm, level tones. "Mrs. Tran," he said, "your friend was possessed by a demon."

Mrs. Tran frowned in confusion, and Kevin said, "Have you ever seen The Exorcist?"

She rolled her eyes. "Is that what you've been doing all year—watching television?" Kevin sighed, and she looked back toward the dining room. "Did you really have to kill her?"

Sam glanced at me, looking uncomfortable, as Dean said, "The demon would've warned Crowley where Kevin was if we didn't."

Mrs. Tran looked back at Kevin, anger crossing her face as she guessed who Crowley was. "And Crowley is the one who kidnapped you?" she said darkly.

Kevin nodded. "Yeah. He needs me to translate his stupid tablet so he can take over the universe or something."

"Which is why we need to get it," Dean said, "so that we can slam the Gates of Hell forever with Crowley inside."

"So that things like that don't ever happen again," Sam added, gesturing toward the dining room.

Mrs. Tran looked around at us for a minute, and I could see acceptance growing in her eyes as she decided to believe us. She looked back at Kevin and said, "Prophet of the Lord, huh?" She smirked. "It does have a nice ring to it." She stood up then. "I'll get packed."

Dean nodded. "We're gonna need a safe house since Crowley's been to Rufus's cabin, so—"

"Safe house? I thought we were going to get the tablet."

"Uh, we are," Dean corrected. "You're takin' a trip to a demon-free zone."

"And risk letting Kevin fall into the hands of this Crowley again?" She crossed her arms over her chest. "I don't think so!"

"Mrs. Tran," Sam said, "all due respect, Dean's right. Crowley—he's not just a killer. He trades in torment. And if he can find a way to separate your soul from you, he'll take that soul to Hell and—and roast it till there's nothing left but black smoke. Look, it's best if you let us handle this."

She nodded slowly, and I was surprised that she looked like she was going to give in. She seemed tougher than that. "I understand," she said; then she glared at Sam defiantly. "But it's not my soul I'm worried about; it's my son's." Atta girl.

Dean looked torn between admiration and exasperation. "Kevin, you wanna back us up here?" he begged the Prophet. "Came all the way down here to pull her outta the fire, and now she wants to jump right back in."

Kevin gave his mom a fond smile. "Like I can tell her what to do?"

Mrs. Tran stared Dean down with a steely, determined look on her face, and Dean gave a disbelieving chuckle and shrugged in defeat. "Alright. Comin' with us has conditions—uh, hex bags to stay off the bad guys' radar, and, uh, you're gonna have to get inked up."

Kevin blinked rapidly in shock. "Uh, do what, now?!" he asked fearfully.

Sam nodded at him, pulling the top of his shirt open to show an anti-possession tattoo inked onto his chest. I pointedly turned my gaze away, liking the idea of seeing Sam shirtless just a little too much. "Yeah, uh, you, too, shortstop," he said to Kevin. "Keeps the demons out." Sam's eyes met mine as he buttoned his shirt back up, and the smallest smirk was on his face. I rolled my eyes, knowing by his expression that my attempts to hide my blush hadn't worked.

Mrs. Tran raised her eyebrows, looking unfazed. "Fine," she said.

Dean raised his eyebrows skeptically. "Really?"

She let out a short bark of laughter. "What, like it's my first tattoo?" She turned and walked out of the room, leaving Dean looking like he'd just found his role model and Kevin with the horrified expression of a little kid who'd just been told Santa Claus wasn't real.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

After Kevin and his mom got their tattoos, we headed to a bus station in Laramie, Wyoming. Kevin had hidden a bag containing the tablet in one of the lockers there, but, when we opened the locker, the tablet was gone and the bag it was in had been replaced by a diaper bag. We questioned one of the station guards, who told us that a former employee named Clem Smedley had just been arrested for stealing from the lockers and was now waiting for arraignment. With this information, the Winchesters and I headed down to the Laramie police station in our Fed suits to interrogate Clem.

My first impression of Clem Smedley was that he didn't seem too bothered that he'd gotten caught. When Sam asked him for details about how he'd gotten arrested, he just smiled and shook his head. "Should have known they'd plant a LoJack in one of them bags. Smart guy, that Jerry. He'll be a fine replacement for me."

Sam nodded. "Right, well, in one of those lockers, there was a tablet. D'you know where it is?"

Clem raised his eyebrows. "Can I even acknowledge that without my lawyer here?" Oh, boy. He wants something from us.

Sam seemed to get that, too, for he said, "Uh, look, I'm sure we can work out a little, uh, something-something with the locals if you just cooperate." I thought it was kind of funny, seeing as we really could do absolutely nothing for Clem, regardless of whether he helped us out or not.

I glanced up at Dean, who was staring at Clem with a strange, unfocused look in his eye. Clem didn't notice, and he leaned onto the table toward Sam and said, "What kinda something-something?"

"Leniency?" Sam suggested. "We can cut down your time."

Clem shook his head. "Not good enough."

I narrowed my eyes. "You seem to have something in mind already," I said suspiciously.

Clem grinned at me and gave a small nod. "So, here's what I'm thinkin': full immunity from all charges—past, present, and future."

Sam sighed and closed his eyes, acting very hesitant very well. He opened his mouth to pretend to give in to Clem's demands when, suddenly, Dean came around the table, wrapped his tie around Clem's neck, and slammed Clem against the wall. I jerked back in surprise, almost toppling out of my chair, and Sam huffed in exasperation. "Hey!" He banged his hand on the table, trying to get Dean's attention. "Dean! C'mon!"

Dean ignored him, pulling the tie upwards like a noose and causing Clem to emit a rough choking sound. "You feel that?" Dean said, his empty expression contrasting greatly with his low, threatening voice and the fact that his face was mere inches away from Clem's.

"L-look," Clem said hoarsely, "just g-get me outta here and I-I'll show you w-where to go!"

Dean jerked up on his tie again, and Clem gasped with pain and fear. "How about you just tell me?" Dean proposed, a smirk twitching up at the corner of his mouth.

Sam finally got to his feet to stop his brother before it got too far. "Dean!" he tried again, but the older Winchester still ignored him.

"Pawn shop, First and Main!" Clem practically wailed, and Dean nodded satisfactorily as he loosened his hold on the tie and removed it from Clem's neck.

"Dean?" Sam said worriedly. Dean finally looked at him as Clem pressed himself even further back against the wall. Sam jerked his head toward the door. "C'mon." Dean nodded once and led the way out of the room.

"What was that?" I asked Sam as we left the police station, making sure to keep my voice low enough so that Dean wouldn't hear.

"Purgatory," Sam answered flatly, looking extremely tense.

"So he hasn't done something like that before?"

"No."

The worry on his face upset me for some reason, and I felt the urge to reassure him. "Hey, look on the bright side: we got the info we wanted, and he stopped himself before he let anything happen." He gave a noncommittal grunt, and I rolled my eyes. "And you didn't have to release a hardened criminal back into the streets," I added teasingly. I could see that he was fighting a grin, and, when I smiled at him, he gave up the fight.

"Yeah, okay," he said. "I see your point. Just…what if he can't stop himself next time?"

I grimaced. "We'll cross that bridge when we get to it?" I said lamely, and he chuckled darkly.

"Yeah 'cause that always works."

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

Mrs. Tran was officially my favorite person.

We'd gone to the pawn shop that Clem had told us about and were met by a very rude and unhelpful man. Dean had threatened him, and, when that didn't work, Mrs. Tran had stepped in and basically blackmailed him into telling us what we wanted to know. She'd noticed the tags on his car—a cherry red Ferrari—were expired and guessed that he'd acquired it an illegal trade. She'd then said that her brother worked for the Wyoming tax assessor's office and could cause the guy to pay about $10,000. After that, the man gave us the address of the person who'd bought the tablet, and Dean drove us all the way there with a huge grin on his face.

We reached the address, which was a small motel on the outskirts of town, and Sam knocked on the door of Room 126. "Sure this is the right place?" he asked Dean.

Dean shrugged. "It's what the pawn slip says."

Just then, someone behind us said, "Kevin?" We all spun around to see a man dressed in a fancy grey suit—top hat, coattails, and cane included.

Dean glared at the man suspiciously. "Who wants to know?"

"Oh, relax, Dean," the man said, and Dean's eyes narrowed. "I'm not going to steal your Prophet." He looked at Mrs. Tran and beamed as he took her hand. "And you must be Kevin's mother. I'm Beau, and it is my absolute pleasure." He kissed her hand and she smiled unsurely back at him. "And Kevin! Imagine my luck: here I was, working so hard looking for you that I never stopped to think you might be looking for me! I have something for you."

"What is it?" Kevin asked, curiosity and distrust mixing in his voice.

"An invitation, my dear man," Beau said as he pulled a small envelope out of his coat, "to a very exclusive auction."

Dean frowned. "Lemme guess—where you'll be selling the tablet."

"Well, when we acquire an item as hot as the Word of God, it's smart to unload it as fast as possible. And we are in such desperate need of a headliner for tonight's gala."

"Well, I hope you have four extra tickets to your little eBay party 'cause the Prophet's with us."

"Oh, if you're worried about the safety of the Prophet, rest assured that we have a strict 'no casting, no cursing, no…supernaturally flicking you against the wall just for the fun of it' policy," Beau said amusedly.

"Is that right?" Sam said skeptically. "How'd you manage that?"

"Well, I am the right hand of a god, after all," Beau said, puffing out his chest importantly. "Plutus, specifically."

"Is that even a planet anymore?" Dean joked, and I rolled my eyes.

Beau looked offended. "It's the god of greed," he said condescendingly. "And my liege has warded these premises against Hell, Heaven, and beyond—quite necessary with some of the players we see. And, incidentally, quite possibly the safest place your precious Prophet could be." He looked around and saw the suspicion and annoyance on our faces, and he sighed. "Mmm, well, since time is of the essence, perhaps I'll just go ahead and add a plus-four to the Prophet's invitation. Copacetic?" With that, he tossed the envelope in the air and disappeared.

"Well, thank you, Mr. Peanut!" Dean snapped; then he turned to us. "Alright, what do we have to bid?" Sam scoffed and shook his head. "What? We can't just show up there empty-handed!"

"Dean, all we have to our names is a few hacked gold cards," Sam said.

"Alright, well, then, we're gonna have to get creative."

Sam narrowed his eyes in thought, and he just so happened to be looking at the Impala. His eyes widened slightly, and Dean followed his gaze. "Well…"

"No!" Dean exclaimed angrily. "Nuh-uh! Say it, and I will kill you, your children, and your grandchildren!"

I smothered a laugh as Sam held his hands up apologetically. "Okay, okay! Uh…Wait a second. They—these auctions—they display the items to the bidders beforehand, right?"

"Yeah, so?"

"You're thinking Kevin can just look at the tablet then," I guessed, and Sam nodded.

"We just gotta get him close enough to memorize the spell."

Dean shrugged, apparently finding no fault with the plan. "What d'you think, brainiac?" he asked Kevin. "Think you can swing it?"

Mrs. Tran answered for him. "Of course he can swing it, if the bumper stickers on my Previa mean anything."

As we walked back to the car, Dean looked at it lovingly and said, "He didn't mean it, baby." I let out a snort as I slid into the backseat beside Mrs. Tran, and Dean shot me a glare. "You didn't hear anything," he said.

"Oh, no, not a thing," I promised with a smirk, and Dean nodded once and started the car.

~Supernatural~Supernatural~Supernatural~

The auction was a little bit frightening. Sure, the artifacts were really cool, but I knew that, out of all the people there, we were probably the only ones that were actually people. Hell, we were at an auction in a creepy warehouse hosted by a god—any of the attendees could more than likely squash us like bugs. And the fact that they'd taken the weapons Dean had tried so foolishly to smuggle in just made me even more nervous.

If all else fails, I still have my powers, I thought, trying to reassure myself. Yeah, if I can actually make them work for me. Everything feels so off since I got back. I guess I just need time to readjust to—to being alive. I let out a short breath, and Sam raised his eyebrows at me questioningly. I shook my head at him, and he gave me a small smile then went back to staring curiously at the ancient manuscript in the glass case in front of him.

I moved away, scanning the room for the tablet—though it would help if I knew what it looks like—when my eyes landed on a large hammer. "No way," I breathed as I moved toward it. The handle was wrapped in old leather, and the head was covered with ancient runes and symbols. "It can't be."

"What is it?" I flinched as Sam appeared beside me. He gave me an amused look. "Sorry, didn't mean to startle you." He narrowed his eyes slightly, but the amusement was still on his face. "I know that look," he said. "You're about to geek out on me, aren't you?"

"That's fucking Mjolnir!" I whispered excitedly. He gave me a blank look, and I rolled my eyes. "Oh, c'mon, aren't you supposed to be the smart brother?"

"I am the smart brother!" he said, sounding offended.

"So, what, Norse mythology's just not important enough for you?"

Realization suddenly dawned in Sam's eyes. "No way," he said, copying my words from earlier. "You really think that's—"

"It could be, right?" I practically begged, hoping beyond hope that I was staring at the actual Mjolnir.

"Oh, I assure you, it is," a smug voice said, and I tore my eyes away from the hammer to see Beau in all his fancy-suited glory standing on the other side of the glass case. "You could bid, you know," he said to me, and his eyes roved over me with a lecherous yet contempt-filled gaze. "I'm sure you have something to offer."

I heard Sam huff angrily, and I smirked at Beau. "Think I'll pass. I'm powerful enough without having to carry around a five billion pound hammer."

Beau's stare became calculating, and he nodded slowly. "Yes, I'm beginning to think that maybe you are."

Uh-oh. I do not like the way that sounds. I could tell Sam didn't, either, and I grabbed his wrist and squeezed once in warning as he started to move forward. "Well, I guess it's about time someone saw what a treasure I am," I replied, keeping my tone light and joking. I saw Dean out of the corner of my eye, and he was jerking his head toward another glass case. They found it. "If you'll excuse us," I said, giving a mock bow, and Beau returned it with a grin.

"Of course, madam."

I nodded once at him and steered Sam away. "You wanna calm the fuck down?" I hissed once we were out of earshot.

Sam's face turned red, and he frowned. "Sorry, I just—"

"Look, I can take care of myself, okay?" I broke in, feeling very irked. "I don't need you getting offended for me, and I certainly don't need you trying to defend my honor or some archaic bullshit."

Hurt and annoyance flashed over his face. "Sorry," he repeated flatly. "Won't happen again."

This time when I rolled my eyes, it was at myself and not at him. Stop feeling bad! Stop it now! You've never had a problem being rude to anyone else; why the fuck is he the exception? Just 'cause he looks like a puppy and smells like sunshine and purity doesn't mean anything! No attachments! Just salt, sex, and single-malt whiskey!

"What happened to you two?" Dean asked as Sam and I approached him.

"I think Beau wants me to sell myself to possess the might of Thor," I said offhandedly. "Sam didn't like that idea."

Dean snorted, and I couldn't tell if he was ignoring his brother's annoyance or if he was just totally oblivious. "Well, in other news, there's this." He gestured to the glass case containing the tablet. A piece of metal was lying on top of the stone, blocking the writing from view.

"I guess we're not as original as we thought," Kevin commented, crossing his arms over his chest and looking very uncomfortable. Mrs. Tran, on the other hand, kept flipping between curious and protective. She looked at all of the other attendees as though they were simultaneously the most interesting and most dangerous things she'd ever encountered, and, to be honest, she was probably right.

"It's okay," Sam said, trying to be optimistic. "We just gotta come up with plan B."

"And what, pray tell, could possibly have been plan A?" The hairs on the back of my neck prickled at the bored, drawling voice, and Sam stiffened beside me. I'd only heard that voice once before, but I didn't plan on forgetting it any time soon. We turned to see the King of Hell himself standing in front of us, a disdainful smirk on his face. "Bring the Prophet to the most dangerous place on Earth, memorize the tablet, and then…" He raised an eyebrow at Sam. "…vamoose?" Sam's jaw tightened as Crowley grinned. "Hello, boys."

"Crowley," Dean growled.

Crowley ignored Dean and looked instead at the Prophet. "Kevin! What a pleasure to see you! Sorry about your little play-date. Her name…ah. Well, if you're gonna make an omelet, sometimes you have to break some spines." His eyes finally alighted on Mrs. Tran. "And who is this lovely young thing? Must be your sister."

He jumped back in alarm as Mrs. Tran slapped him hard across the face. "Stay away from my son!" she snarled, and I had to resist the urge to cheer.

I saw the corner of Dean's mouth twitch upward as Crowley rubbed the bright red handprint on his cheek. "Charming," he said drily. "Defiling her corpse has just made number one on my to-do list." The grin was gone from Dean's face, and he moved toward Crowley, looking pissed. Sam put a hand on his shoulder, and Dean glowered at his younger brother for a moment before shaking him off and standing completely still. Crowley smirked. "Uh, uh, uh. Don't mind a little love tap, but, anything more, and our mookie pals here may just throw you out, and that would be a shame."

"He's right, Dean," Sam said calmly. "It's not worth it."

"Listen to Moose, Squirrel," Crowley said wryly, and Dean raised his eyebrows in confusion at the nickname. Moose and Squirrel… So, like, Rocky and Bullwinkle? Heh. That's kinda funny. My thoughts were interrupted when Crowley said, "Garideth, darling. No love for dear old dad?"

"Uh-um, I'm sorry, uh—what?" I sputtered out, looking up at Sam bewilderedly. "He's joking, right?" I said disbelievingly. The younger Winchester's eyes were wide open like a deer in headlights, and the realization that that had to mean that Crowley was telling the truth hit me like a freight train to the chest. "S-Sam, he's not—? He—he can't be—"

The desperation and fear in my voice snapped him out of it, and he put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed once. I don't know how I understood what that meant, but I did: I knew that he was saying he'd explain everything as soon as he could, and I knew that he was saying to shake it off and play along with whatever Crowley said. I hoped that he could read my face well enough to see that I got the message, and, as he spoke, I knew that he had. "I dunno, babe…" Sam said slowly, shaking his head. "He looks pretty serious to me."

I tried not to react at the "babe" thing, and I saw the apology in his eyes as he said it. "Damn, Sammy," I said, playing along like he'd asked, "you think maybe even demons can feel a little remorse sometimes? Maybe 'dear old dad's' regretting the whole murder thing."

Crowley scoffed, and the suspicious look on his face turned to one of condescension. "You insult me, daughter. I—" He stopped talking as a bald man in a jogging suit came into the room. "Ah, here comes our host."

A loud voice spoke over the din of the crowd then, saying, "Honored guests, please take your seats."

"That's Plutus?" Dean said as Crowley smirked at me and then walked away. Sam's hand tightened on my shoulder, and I reached up and put my hand on top of his without really thinking about it. His firm grip was reassuring, and it was helping me to not freak out. "What is he, god of the candy aisle?" Dean finished, and he looked disappointed when none of us laughed.

Beau approached us then. "Gentlemen, the auction is starting."

The crowd started moving into the auction room then. "Nice right hook," Sam said to Mrs. Tran.

"Yeah, you're my hero," I added, and Mrs. Tran blushed and gave an embarrassed grin. Kevin put his arm around his mom, grinning proudly as he steered them away.

I glanced over and saw Dean talking to a kid in a Weiner Hut uniform, and I decided I didn't even want to know what that was about. It was then that I noticed that Sam's hand was still on my shoulder and that my hand was still on top of his. Instead of shrugging him off, I clamped my hand down on his so that he couldn't run away. "Sam, what the fuck did that asshole mean when he said all that stuff?" I said, cutting straight to the chase.

As I predicted, Sam tried to pull away, and he frowned at my vice-like grip. "Look, now's not the time, okay?" he said anxiously.

"Sam, he called me his daughter. What the fuck is up with that?!"

"I promise I'll tell you later; just—just not now." I heard the sincerity in his voice, and, as I stared up into his wide, pleading eyes, I knew without a doubt that he would stay true to his word.

I let out a sigh of defeat. "Okay. But, after we get this tablet, I have to know everything."

"And you will," he promised, obviously relieved. "I'll tell you whatever you wanna know." I nodded, temporarily satisfied. "So…we're good?"

"We're good."

"Good."

I took his hand and moved it to my other shoulder so that his arm was now around me. He gave me a bewildered and slightly scared look, and I shrugged innocently. "What? We're supposed to be a couple, right, babe?" I teased, and his face turned beet red. "Did we seriously call each other 'babe'?" I asked him as we walked into the auction room.

"You started it," he said defensively.

I opened my mouth to argue, but then I changed my mind. "That…that actually does kinda sound like me," I conceded, and the smile I got in return was almost blinding.

"Yeah, it does, doesn't it?" he agreed happily, and I couldn't help but smile back at him.

God, I wish he wouldn't do this. How can the smallest things about me make him this happy? How can just being nice to him make him smile like that? And how the hell is he making my heart do the fucking samba? God, I need to take a step back. I'm getting too close to him. I knew what I was thinking was true. I did need to distance myself from Sam. But, right then, with his arm around me and his eyes and his smile shining like the sun, I couldn't bring myself to do it just yet. But soon. It's gotta be soon.