I don't own Supernatural or any references to anything else you may recognize.

We filed into a row of chairs beside Kevin and Mrs. Tran, and Dean followed us. The Weiner Hut kid was behind us, and, as Crowley took a seat beside him, he sneered, "Samandiriel. Slumming it, are we?" The kid scowled at Crowley and turned his head away, and Crowley smirked. Samandiriel? What the hell kinda name is that? It doesn't sound human.

I stopped puzzling over what Samandiriel could be when Beau tapped a gavel to begin the auction. "Ladies, gentlemen, and…other, welcome to this once-in-a-lifetime event! The first name in magical and alchemical esoterica!" Dean nodded at us, and we all pulled out our wallets and passed the contents to Dean. "Our prices may be high," Beau continued, "but our quality is unmatched, and we stand by our products."

Crowley leaned forward between Sam and me, and I made a face and leaned away from him. "Don't know why you're so keen on that hunk of dirt. So it tells you how to blast back a few demons? I'll just make more. Can't get rid of all my black-eyed boys, Samantha," Crowley said smugly.

Sam's face was unreadable as he said, "Yeah, we'll see." I could tell that his words bothered Crowley, for he frowned and sat back in his seat. Sam looked at his brother, who had just finished counting our money. "Alright, so, how much we got for plan B?"

"Uh, well, we got our hacked credit cards, $2,000, and a, uh, Costco membership," Dean said unenthusiastically. Mrs. Tran gave him an encouraging nod, and he sighed.

"Our first item," Beau said, "the amulet of Hesperus. Let's start the bidding with, um, three tons of dwarven gold?" Our little group exchanged looks of alarm as hands went up around the room. "Ah! This lady. I have three. Do I have four? Ah, four. Gentleman here, four. Going for five. Five? Five to this lady. Do we have an advance on five tons?"

Sam grimaced. "Plan C?"

Dean nodded. "Big time." He looked around as Beau sold the amulet of Hesperus for five tons of dwarven gold. "I'm gonna use the restroom." I didn't really see how that helped, but I said nothing as he got up and walked away.

"He's got a plan, right? That's what this is?" I whispered hopefully to Sam.

"Honestly," he shrugged, "with Dean, there's no telling."

"Great."

Just then, Crowley leaned between us again, but, this time, he focused on me. "So, darling, how'd you do it?" he asked. "How'd you get back?"

I locked eyes with Sam, silently asking him what I should say. He shrugged slightly, and I took that to mean that telling the truth was okay. "Your guess is as good as mine," I told Crowley. "Hell, if you're that curious, you could always look into it for me. God knows I'm occupied enough as it is."

Crowley smirked. "Tempting offer. Too bad we're under surveillance here—I'd love a chance to do the job right."

Anger bubbled up in me, and I spun to face Crowley fully. "You're up for a rematch, then? Good. I've been just dying to bash your smug little face in. Name the time and place, Daddy Dearest."

Sam's eyes were wide and anxious as he said warningly, "Gari, maybe you shouldn't—"

"D'you always make decisions for your girlfriend, Moose?" Crowley interrupted, raising an eyebrow at him.

"No, he doesn't," I growled, glaring at Sam over Crowley's head. "And I'm not his—"

"Our next item up for bid: the hammer of Thor, Mjolnir." Beau's voice thankfully stopped me from giving away valuable information, and I turned my head to listen to the auction for Mjolnir. I saw Crowley sit back in his seat as he realized I wasn't going to say anything more. I could practically feel the waves of fear and annoyance rolling off of Sam, and I was mad at myself for feeling bad. Yeah, maybe I had been a little stupid in egging Crowley on, but it was my decision and my life at risk. Sam needed to back off.

"A finger bone from the frost giant Ymir," a strange old man said, holding up a large finger. Beau looked back at Plutus, who shook his head, apparently unimpressed. "Uh…the bone and, uh…" The old man held up a bloodstained brown paper bag. "…five-eighths of a virgin!"

Sam made a face, and I let out a quiet, "Ew." Unfortunately, that seemed to draw the attention of Beau.

"Ms. Vulcan?" he prompted. "I remember your interest in this item, and I know that you have something of value. Something very…powerful." He smirked at his own little joke, and I narrowed my eyes.

"Honey, I can call down thunderstorms all on my own," I said cockily. "Save your breath, and just give the hammer to the creepy old guy."

Beau looked disappointed, but the creepy old guy looked up at Plutus hopefully. After a moment, the god nodded his head. "Sold," Beau said, sounding put-out, but the old man grinned widely and bounced in his seat.

Dean sat back down then. "Plan C tanked," he mumbled.

"Maybe you should try plan D for 'dumbass,'" Crowley said sardonically, and Dean shot him a death glare.

"Our next lot, the Word of God." Beau held up the tablet, catching the attention of everyone in the room. "Capital-G—very old, very rare."

"Three billion dollars," Crowley said as he got to his feet.

"Whoa," the Winchesters said in unison, and I let out a low whistle.

Samandiriel also stood. "The Mona Lisa."

Crowley smirked. "The real Mona Lisa. Where she's topless." Huh. Okay.

"Vatican City."

"Alaska."

Beau raised a disdainful eyebrow. "Palin and a bridge to nowhere? No, thanks."

"Alright, the moon!" Crowley countered. Wait, what?!

"You're bidding the moon?!" Dean said disbelievingly.

Crowley gave him a contemptuous look. "Yeah, claimed it for Hell. Think a man named Buzz gets to go into space without making a deal?"

"Ah, I'm sorry, gentlemen," Beau said. "It seems that our reserve price has not been met. So, in order to stimulate the bidding, we're going to add an item to this lot."

I suddenly got a horrible feeling in my gut, and I turned to the younger Winchester. "Sam, we need to—"

It was too late. "Kevin Tran!" Beau said, pointing a finger at the kid. "Prophet of the Lord!"

"No!" Mrs. Tran gasped as Kevin disappeared. He reappeared, chained up beside Plutus, and the four of us surged to our feet. Two auction employees came up behind us and shoved us back down into our seats, and the Winchesters and I glared up at them hatefully.

"Mr. Tran is the only person on Earth who can read this tablet," Beau continued as if nothing had happened, "which makes them a perfect matching set."

"So out of your league," Crowley said, knowing that he'd won.

"So," Beau said, "do I hear a bid of—?"

"No, stop!" Mrs. Tran begged, standing again. "I'll give you whatever you want! I have a 401(K), my house!"

Plutus chuckled, and Beau said, "Good effort, Mrs. Tran, but I'm afraid this is a little out of your price range."

At the look on Mrs. Tran's face, I knew what was coming, and I couldn't let it happen. As she opened her mouth, I rose to my feet and said, "My powers."

Sam grabbed my arm and tried to tug me back down. "Gari, no!"

"What the hell d'you think you're doing?!" Dean hissed at me.

"He's just a kid," I said stubbornly, extracting myself from Sam's grip. "I can't let this family get torn apart because of something we did." Whether I can remember it or not, I finished in my head. We brought Kevin into this, and I'm gonna get him out. I can't let anyone else end up like me.

Beau looked back at Plutus for approval, and the excitement was plain and dangerous on his face. Plutus scrutinized me for a long moment; then, as the boys and I waited with bated breath, he shook his head once. Beau's face fell. "I'm sorry," he said, "but that's still not enough."

"What?!" I exclaimed angrily. "Why not?! You've been trying to get me to bid my powers all night, and now they're not enough?!"

"I don't make the rules," Beau said regretfully, throwing a bitter look at Plutus over his shoulder.

"What's enough for you, then?!"

Plutus looked at Mrs. Tran, and the words I'd been afraid of came out of her mouth. "My soul," she said quietly.

"Mom, don't!" Kevin cried.

"I bid my soul!" she repeated with more conviction.

"Are you sure?" Dean asked her. "That's a big move."

Mrs. Tran nodded firmly as Plutus said, "Interesting…" It was the first time I'd heard him speak; his voice was creepy and lecherous, and it made my skin crawl. I slowly sank back down to my seat, pointedly ignoring Sam's clenched jaw and near-tangible anger. I'd deal with that later.

"If it's souls that you're after," Crowley said, "I can give you a million souls."

Dean looked over his shoulder at Samandiriel. "Hey, flyboy, are you gonna get in on this?" Flyboy? Wait…

Samandiriel looked defeated as he said, "We guard the souls in Heaven. We don't horse-trade them." So does that mean he's an angel? Oh, God. So they are real. Fucking hell.

"So we have a deal," Crowley prompted hopefully.

"It's not about the quantity, chief," Plutus said, clearly enjoying this particular auction. "It's about the sacrifice." He looked at Mrs. Tran as he said, "This little lady's soul is the most valuable thing she has. It's everything." He raised his eyebrows at Crowley. "Are you willing to offer everything, Mr. Crowley?"

The King of Hell hesitated, and Dean looked up at him with a smirk on his face. "Tick-tock," he mocked.

"Fine," Crowley said grudgingly. "You win." He drew himself up importantly and said, "I bid…my own soul!" Wait, do demons have souls?

My question was answered as Plutus let out a very creepy laugh. "Mr. Crowley," he said, "you don't have a soul." He turned his gaze to Mrs. Tran and gave her a slimy grin. "Congrats, sweetheart."

Crowley turned and stormed out of the room as Mrs. Tran cried, "Thank you, thank you!"

The rest of the auction passed in a blur—I honestly don't remember anything else that was auctioned off—and we were soon the only ones still in the auction room. We'd asked for some time for Mrs. Tran to prepare herself, and Beau had given it a little too willingly. He still kept regarding me with a hungry gaze, and I was almost grateful when Sam had stepped in front of me and blocked me from his view—almost, but not quite. His over-protectiveness was still extremely annoying.

"Losing my soul…" Mrs. Tran whispered, "…is it going to hurt?"

"Probably," Dean said honestly.

"Will I die?"

"No," answered Sam. "You'll just wish you were dead." I suddenly realized that, if anyone should know that, he should. God, I need to know more about them.

"…Okay," Mrs. Tran breathed, seeming to steady herself.

Beau entered the room then. "It's time."

Sam, Dean, and I stood, but Mrs. Tran remained seated. "You alright?" Dean asked her, and I thought it seemed like a stupid question to ask someone who was about to sell her soul.

"Yeah," she said thickly, as though she was about to cry, and I couldn't blame her. "Can I—can I just have a minute?"

As we walked away, Sam said, "This sucks."

"Are you kidding me?" Dean said, sounding almost happy. "We're about to close the Gates of Hell forever. If you ask me, we got off cheap."

Sam and I exchanged a look, and I was glad to see that he was troubled by his brother's opinion, too. However, neither of us said anything as we left the auction room and headed into the foyer with all of the artifacts. I saw the creepy old man pick up Mjolnir and cradle it to his chest. "Mjolnir, I've missed you," he crooned, and I made a face at him as he walked away.

"So what the hell was that back there?" Sam said to me, and I felt myself getting defensive already.

"That was me trying to fix our mistakes!" I said heatedly.

"Gari, you can't just sell your powers!" he argued. "I've seen you without them, and I can't let you go through that again! I can't let you suffer like that again!"

I was shocked into silence—not at the fact that I'd apparently lost my powers, as you'd expect, but at the amount of agony in his voice as he talked about my pain. I could deal with thinking about us being together—I could even handle keeping up the façade that we actually were—but every time I was made aware of just how much he'd cared for me and how much I'd potentially cared for him, I wanted to scream. It made me feel claustrophobic; like I was trapped by his feelings and my own feelings that I didn't remember but was somehow expected to still have. It wasn't like Sam intentionally put that pressure on me, but, every time he let his guard fall, every time he became affectionate or gentle or even happy at something I'd said or done, I felt all the pressure of his love for me and the expectations that came with it.

My mind finally cleared enough to allow me to defend myself. "Well, it's not on you to let me do anything, now, is it?!" I snapped. "They're my powers, Sam! And I can do with them what I damn well please!"

"You're being reckless!" he persisted, but I could see the hurt in his eyes and knew that he'd give up the argument soon. He couldn't bear to have me mad at him—a sentiment that I definitely didn't reciprocate—and that was his weakness. I, on the other hand, would've found it easier if he'd gotten furious to the point of no longer wishing to speak to me.

"So what if I am?!" I retorted. "That is honestly none of your concern! I'm the only one trying to fix our mistakes, and I can't even remember making them! What the fuck are you and your brother doing, huh?! Hell, Dean's over there considering Mrs. Tran losing her soul a goddamned win! At least I fucking tried!"

It was his turn to be struck speechless, and I could see the unwillingness to argue mixed with the desire to fight back churning in those distracting, bottomless hazel eyes of his. I screwed up my face in annoyance, breaking our eye contact and thus the spell that threatened to take over every time he gazed at me. I wanted to be angry; I deserved to be angry—I wasn't going to let him sway me.

Thankfully, I didn't have to fight much longer, for Plutus, Beau, and Mrs. Tran approached us then, and Dean stepped closer to Sam and me. I hadn't realized that he'd moved, but I appreciated him giving us some sort of privacy while we argued. "Where's the kid?" the older Winchester asked Plutus, who snapped his fingers and caused Kevin to appear.

"What are you gonna do with her soul?" Sam asked, and I couldn't tell if the harshness to his tone was because of me or Plutus.

"Whatever I want," Plutus said smugly. "I might sell it, or maybe I'll just tuck it away with my other precious objects, let them keep me warm at night. Mmm." I shuddered in revulsion as he chuckled. Mrs. Tran had looked afraid at first, but, as Plutus turned his gaze to her, she lifted her chin and straightened her shoulders. Plutus held out his hands to her. "Whenever you're ready, dear." After a brief hesitation, Mrs. Tran held out a hand and stepped forward.

"Wait!" Dean said suddenly. He grabbed Mrs. Tran's outstretched arm and pushed up her sleeve, revealing a large burn where her anti-possession tattoo had been.

"Hello, boys," Mrs. Tran drawled, and her eyes flashed the red of a crossroads demon.

"Crowley!" Sam exclaimed, and then Mrs. Tran—or Crowley? How do I refer to him/her?—flung out her arms and sent the three of us flying back into the wall.

"No, you can't!" Plutus cried. "My warding spells!"

"Your girl Friday showed me a few loopholes," Crowley said, nodding appreciatively at Beau. Plutus looked at Beau in bewilderment, and Beau smiled and shrugged. "And all it cost me was an island in the South Pacific," Crowley continued. "I love a bargain." At that, Beau drove a stake into Plutus's back, killing him instantly. Crowley pulled the stake all the way through Plutus's chest and hurled it at the man guarding Kevin, who let out a yelp and fell to the ground. "Can't do all my tricks, but I can do enough."

"Get out of her!" Kevin yelled, and I ran for the kid, hoping to stop him before he could do anything stupid.

"If I had a nickel for every time someone screamed that at me," Crowley joked as he picked up the Word of God.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Dean rummaging through the box of weapons near the door, and he pulled out the demon-killing knife. Determination rose up in me, and I knew that if I had to fight Dean to stop him from killing Mrs. Tran, I would. I couldn't let Kevin lose his family, not if I had even the slightest chance to stop it. Maybe selling my powers hadn't worked, but that just meant that I could use those powers to force Crowley to leave Mrs. Tran's body.

Both Sam and Dean moved with me in front of Kevin, and Dean quipped, "Gettin' in touch with your feminine side, huh, Crowley?"

"Something like that," the King of Hell replied wryly.

"Well, come and get him!" Dean challenged.

Crowley seemed to consider us for a minute then realized he'd be fighting a losing battle. "One outta two ain't bad," he said with a shrug, and he turned and ran from the room.

"Watch the kid!" Dean ordered us, and he took off after Crowley.

I made to follow, afraid of what Dean would do, but Kevin's cry of "Sam! Move!" distracted me, and I turned to see Beau pointing a gun at Sam's back. I flung my hand out, sending Beau careening backward and causing his shot to go wildly off-target. Beau fired a better-aimed shot at me, and I let out a cry as the bullet shot through my thigh.

"Gari!" Sam and Kevin yelped simultaneously, and Sam dashed out from the table he was hiding behind and pulled me back down with him. The creepy old guy was sitting back there, too, still cradling Mjolnir to his chest, and he looked between Sam and me fearfully. "Are you okay?" Sam asked worriedly, trying to pull my hand away from the hole in my leg.

"I'm fine," I said through gritted teeth. "We've gotta stop Dean."

"What are you talking about?" he said confusedly. "Stop Dean from what?"

"He'll kill her, Sam," I said bluntly—I couldn't worry about crossing a line with him now. "He has the knife, and he'll kill her if it means killing Crowley. We can't let him."

I could tell Sam didn't want to believe me. "Gari, he wouldn't—"

"He said her selling her soul was getting off cheap!" I interrupted. "He thinks it was worth it! He doesn't care about her if he can use her to kill Crowley! You know I'm right, Sam, and we're wasting time!"

I started to push myself to my feet, but he grabbed my arm. "Okay," he said. "But you stay here. You can't get very far on that leg, anyway."

I nodded once. "What are you gonna do?"

He seemed to think for a minute; then his eyes drifted down to the old man and the hammer in his arms, and a small grin spread across his face. The man seemed to know what he wanted, and he gave up Mjolnir with shaky hands. "Promise you'll give it back!" the old man called as Sam stood up.

I peeked out over the top of the table to watch the scene. Kevin was running for the exit, and Beau was right behind him. "Don't!" Beau commanded, and Kevin turned slowly. "You know what's better than one private island?" Beau asked. "Two private islands."

Kevin's eyes widened as he saw Sam come up behind Beau, drawing the hammer back in preparation. Sam swung Mjolnir with all his might, and lightning flashed as the hammer struck Beau's head, knocking it clean off his shoulders. Kevin sprinted out of the room as Beau's body fell to the floor, and I rose to my feet unsteadily as Sam let out a short huff and stared down at the body.

"Way to go, Thor," I said appreciatively. His chest was still heaving, and his hair was half in his face as he turned his head to throw me a cocky grin. My heart skipped a beat and I was struck again by just how gorgeous he was. I'd had time to get used to seeing him all day, but then he had to go and pull something like this, and it was taking all the strength I had not to just jump his bones right then and there. No! Bad Gari! Down, girl! Stop it!

The creepy dude stood up then and gazed at Mjolnir hungrily. "Okay," he said, regarding Sam with wide eyes. "Give it back. Give it back."

Sam held out the hammer, but he stopped before he let the old guy touch it. He stared down at the hammer for a minute then looked up at the man and said menacingly, "Where'd you get the five-eighths of a virgin?"

The strange old man smiled and shrugged innocently, and he squeaked out a terrified, "Oh, no!" as Sam swung the hammer around again. Lightning struck as it made contact, and Sam let Mjolnir slide out of his hands and onto the ground.

He made his way over to me, still breathing hard. "You okay?" he asked me, sliding his arm around my shoulders to support me, and I put my arm around his waist as he helped me limp out of the room.

"That was so fucking hot," I said, not bothering to stop the words from flowing, and the blush on his cheeks told me I'd made the right choice. "Seriously, whoa. How d'you feel about role-playing?"

"I don't—I, uh—what?" he stuttered out, looking adorably flustered.

"Y'know, in the bedroom," I continued, enjoying how uncomfortable I was making him. "'Cause I could definitely get down with that. I mean, you've certainly got the hair for it." I made an exaggerated show of looking him up and down. "And the muscles. Now you just need the accent. Y'know, I think your nickname is Thor from now on. I like it better than 'Goliath.'"

"Gari, p-please stop talking."

I grinned up at him. "Sure, whatever you say. You should seriously keep Mjolnir, though. It suits you. Also, since Plutus, Beau, and creepy old guy are dead, there's no one to stop you from taking it."

"Are you saying that for me or for yourself?" he asked, obviously relieved at the subject change.

I shrugged. "Maybe a little of both? I mean, what else are we gonna do with it?"

"If we get outta here, I think it should be safe. All the monsters and gods left already, and no one else knows where this place is. It could just stay here forever."

"But it doesn't have to."

"Gari," Sam said sternly, and I sighed.

"Fine," I pouted. "Let's just leave the coolest weapon ever here to be forgotten."

"Thank you."

"No problem, Thor." I winked at him, and his blush surged up again. I figured that made us even for the time being. "You think they're okay?" I asked him, starting to get worried.

"Kevin would've made it in time," he assured me.

"You think Dean would listen to him?"

"Yeah, I do." He said the words with so much conviction, but, looking up at his face, I could see the uncertainty there.

"He's different, isn't he?" I guessed, and Sam's eyes flicked down to mine. "Since he came back, I mean?"

"He's not the only one," he said evasively.

"But he's still him," I pressed. "He's still Dean; he's just more severe, colder. Right?"

He continued to evade my questions. "You're still you, too."

I shook my head. "I don't think I am. I know you'd like to think that, but I think you're just desperate. You don't wanna admit that the Gari you knew isn't me; that the woman you loved is gone."

He didn't reply to that; he just pressed his lips together and tightened his grip on me, picking up the pace a little while still making sure he wasn't hurting me. I didn't know what made me say those things, but I was glad I had. I needed to say something to get him to stay away, and I hoped I could do it as gently as possible. Though I knew it probably hadn't worked, it was worth a shot.

We entered the auction room to find Dean standing behind Kevin, who was sitting in a chair across from Mrs. Tran with his hand on her knee. I noticed that something was off immediately: Mrs. Tran was staring blankly straight ahead, with absolutely no indication that she could see her son at all. "What happened?" I asked.

Dean's head jerked up—apparently, he hadn't heard us enter. "Crowley got away with the tablet," he said bitterly, and I noticed that he was glaring at Kevin. What the hell's his problem? "When he got out of her, she was like this."

"Has she said anything?" Sam asked, and Kevin shook his head.

"Listen, Kev," Dean started, and, while I knew he was gearing up for a pep talk, his voice sounded too harsh, "what your mom went through—it's hell. Trust me, I know. But she seems tough. She'll pull it together."

Kevin didn't say anything for a minute, but, when he did, his voice shook with quiet, barely controlled fury. "You tried to kill her."

Dean didn't seem apologetic at all, and that unnerved me. "Kid, in this life—"

"Shut up!" Kevin yelled, hanging his head and staring at his lap. "I don't wanna hear any more of your crappy speeches! I just wanna talk to my mom alone."

I pulled away from Sam and limped over to Kevin. "Sure, kid," I said gently, placing a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to be comforting, but I was scared that I came across as awkward more than anything. His hand twitched upwards as though he was about to touch my hand, but he seemed to think better of it. "Take as much time as you need." I squeezed his shoulder once before shuffling back over to the Winchesters, and I let Sam support me once more as we walked into the next room.

"Dean," Sam said slowly, and I could see the wariness in his eyes, "were you really gonna, uh…"

"What? Slit soccer mom's throat?" Dean finished brusquely. "Yeah, I was. I wish I had."

"Dean—"

"It was Crowley, Sam," Dean said earnestly. "No matter what meat suit he's in, I should've knifed him. I mean, yeah, it would've sucked, and I would've hated myself, but what's one more nightmare, right?"

"That's his family," I said, unable and unwilling to stop the anger from seeping into my voice. "You're a hunter—a fucking Winchester, for fuck's sake—you should know better than anyone how fucking special that is!"

"Stopping Crowley—closing the Gates of Hell—that's pretty goddamn special, too!" Dean retorted.

"So if it was reversed and Crowley had possessed Sam, you're saying you wouldn't have stopped Kevin from killing your own brother?!"

"It's not like he's been carin' all that much about me lately, is it?!"

The look on Sam's face wasn't sadness; it was guilt. It was a sure sign that he believed he deserved what his brother had said, and I couldn't deal with it. Rage burst out from me in a small wave of power, sending Dean stumbling back a few steps. "What the fuck is your problem, man?!" I yelped. "I know for a fact you don't mean that because all I heard from Greg is how goddamn codependent you two are, but what the fuck?! You don't say shit like that to your family! I don't care what kinda drama you've been through; that's crossing the goddamn line!"

"You think you got a right to tell me what to do?!" Dean snapped back at me. "Maybe you forgot, sweetheart, but you don't know me at all. Not anymore. You don't know what the hell I'll do."

"And neither, apparently, does your brother! God, I get that you were slaying monsters in Purgatory for a year, but d'you have to be such a pretentious little dickwad all the time?!"

"That's a new one," Sam muttered under his breath, and both Dean and I glared at him.

Dean opened his mouth to argue with me some more, but then he paused and a troubled look crossed his face. "Does it seem a little quiet in there to you?" he asked us.

Sam and I exchanged a look, and we crossed over to the door and opened it. Kevin and Mrs. Tran were no longer in the auction room. "Kevin?" Sam called worriedly as we walked back inside. "Kevin!"

"You've gotta be kidding me!" Dean huffed. I watched him walk to one of the chairs, and he leaned down and picked up a note. "Hey!" he said, getting our attention.

Sam helped me walk over to his brother, saying, "What's it say?"

Dean scanned the note quickly. "Uh, that they bolted, that we shouldn't come looking, and, since we lost the tablet, Kevin figures we don't need him."

"Yeah, but Crowley still does!" Sam said, running his free hand through his hair in frustration, and I tried to focus on my worry for the Trans instead of the way Sam's hair fell around his face. Stop it! I reprimanded myself again. "What's that kid thinking?!"

That certainly made me focus again, and I was just opening my mouth to rant at the brothers when Dean, still staring at the note, said, "He thinks people I don't need anymore—they end up dead."

"Dean, that—that's not true," Sam said, rushing to reassure his brother even though Dean had been tearing him down not ten minutes ago. "You know that."

"Let's get outta here," Dean said, ignoring his brother, and he left the room without waiting to see if we were behind him.

"Is it true?" I asked Sam quietly.

"No, it's not," he said firmly, and I nodded, deciding to take him at his word. His eyes softened as he looked down at me, and he sighed. "How's your leg?" he asked.

"The bullet's still in there," I replied, wincing as I put weight on it. "Once I get it out and patch myself up, I should heal fairly quickly."

"I'll help you," he offered. "That's not gonna be fun to do on your own."

I gazed up at him for a minute, wondering if I should refuse and realizing I didn't want to. That made my decision for me. "I got it," I said a bit shortly. "But thanks."

He picked up on my change in mood instantly, and he nodded once. "Yeah. No problem."

We didn't speak again as he helped me through the warehouse, and I was left alone with my confusing and conflicting thoughts concerning Sam Winchester.