AN: Some good old-fashioned shenanigans coming your way, along with one of my favorite episodes from season three. Leave a quick comment in the box thing before you go, if you have one! I'm also taking one-shot requests, not just in this story-verse of Do You Recall (DYR) but for most SPN things in general.
Do You Recall
XIII: Natural Thing
Dean was about to drive Elena home, until Sam found something an hour's drive away about two mysterious deaths. They might as well check it out at least, if it was on the way to Sioux Falls. Neither Dean or Elena had a problem with that logic.
But after spending their Halloween chasing after a witch hell-bent on raising a demon from hell in a situation that reminded all of them way too much of what happened in Utah, Dean decided they needed another break. Just a day to catch their breath.
They'd had to deal with scheming smartass angels and Elena seeing Sam using his psychic powers for the first time. She wouldn't admit it, but they all knew it had scared her, enough that she couldn't really look or talk to Sam for the next couple days after. Dean couldn't even say anything because, well, it had scared him the first time too. Still did.
But she eventually plopped next to him on the couch one early morning with two fresh cups of coffee and a cheerful greeting to him and a look that said "I'm sorry." The quick but warm hug that followed surprised him, but he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and greeted her back with a smile that said, "It's okay, I understand," and "Thanks."
Seeing them in better accord put Dean in higher spirits, and gave him a hankering for some good pie. So, they went to what was supposedly the best diner in the state. He ate a plate of pasta and bread rolls, but was really excited for the pumpkin pie, more than anything.
The older waitress passed it in front of him with a kind smile and moved to the next table. He took the first bite and it practically melted in his mouth.
Shit, that's good pie.
He looked up at the menu above the bar and found the dessert section. Looked like they had nearly ten different flavors of pie, and they sold it by the box. Perfect. He would have to remember to buy one before they left. He looked down to get another forkful and his eyes flew open.
Dean paused, fixed at the now gaping hole at the end of his slice. His eyes followed the trail of crumbs slowly to the right, then panned upward to rest on her face. Elena was munching contentedly, not even considering the danger of her seemingly harmless actions, and had the nerve to smile at him when she noticed him staring.
"'S good pie here."
She continued to chew, savoring the flavor and absently sighing through her nose. Dean looked back down at his plate with his fork still in hand.
Elena hadn't even had the decency to start at the tip of the slice like a human being. No. She had to take from the end. From the crust.
You dirty bitch.
Sam watched in muted horror. He didn't know what to do. Elena didn't seem bothered in the slightest by Dean's ominously blank stare. He'd never seen his brother not react. It was actually scaring him.
And then Dean did the unthinkable.
He nodded and went back to his dessert.
"I know right?"
Calm, like nothing had ever happened.
Oh God.
Sam shook himself a bit and returned to his Caesar salad.
He knew nothing, and it was staying that way when they got back to the motel. He might just go to the front desk and pay for another room with a single bed. For himself.
But no. Realistically, he couldn't do that. Not only did they not have the money, but Sam was most likely going to end up being the mediator. He resisted the urge to huff out a breath, and instead called the waitress back over.
"Can I get a beer?"
"Sure thing, hon."
"Thanks."
Elena was, surprisingly, in a great mood after the week they'd had.
The case was finally over with, she'd gotten a great night's sleep the night before, and she got a deal on half-priced Twinkies for Dean and buy-one-get-one Chex Mix for Sam. That way they wouldn't be out for at least seven days...or five. With their metabolism, it was a guesstimate. But if that ran out, she got Cheez-Its. Those were mostly for herself.
"Hey guys," she greeted. Sam paused from skimming several newspapers and smiled up at her from the couch. Dean nodded at her with a grin, but his eyes soon drifted to the grocery bags she was carrying. She rolled her eyes, but there was a smile on her face when she set the bags in his lap for his perusal.
"I'm gonna shower. You mind if I put my music on, Sam?" Sam didn't look up from the article he was reading, and so didn't see the small smirk creeping on his brother's face as he half-pretended to be immersed in the new food she bought.
"Nah, go ahead," said Sam. He knew she liked to blast in the bathroom if she was in a good mood, but the door would muffle most of it.
Elena hummed to herself as she went over to her duffel bag that sat on her bed, and reached around for her clothes. She was able to get a clean shirt, underwear and another pair of worn, comfortable jeans, but she faltered with finding a bra. She could've sworn she'd washed all of them, tucked 'em in a wad somewhere in here. Elena fumbled around until reaching one of the bottom corners, heard a crinkling sound and felt familiar plastic. It was one of her few chocolate bars she kept on hand when she felt like munching on something sweet.
That's weird.
The one in her hand was open. She never left trash in her bag.
Then she was pulling out all her clothes, extra shoes, her iPod, and finally got to the five snacks she usually kept in a zip-lock bag. They were strewn about, wrappers opened. She examined a Crunch bar, and her eyes widened when she saw the massive bite taken out of it. Her eyes drifted to the other four left.
No.
She picked up the Snickers. Nearly a quarter of it was missing. Almond Joy and Butterfinger? Same. Then finally, the Twix.
Damn it.
Both sticks were bitten nearly in half.
"Who the hell—" she muttered, but then she stilled.
Dean was setting the bags of groceries on the coffee table in front of him when he felt something hard hit the back of his head.
"Ow!"
"You asshole!"
He took one look at Elena's fuming expression, and started laughing.
"I fucking knew it was you!"
He fended off her slapping at him with the now broken Crunch bar and reflexively curled his legs onto the couch, leaning away from her and into Sam.
"Dean!" Sam protested. He shoved back and muttered a curse when Dean showed no signs of letting up. Sam got up from the couch and transferred all his papers to the single chair.
"Here, have the rest," she said, and dumped the chocolate bars, sans wrappers, into Dean's lap. She walked away with a satisfied smirk at hearing his vocal complaints of getting chocolate on everywhere. Elena sighed and put everything back into her bag, except for her change of clothes and her iPod. She turned it on and scrolled through her playlists as she made her way into the bathroom.
Fuck no.
"DEAN!" they heard her shout, even though the bathroom door was still wide open. "What the hell is this shit? You messed with my iPod?"
Sam gave Dean a disapproving look, but the older Winchester was smirking and eating Twix.
"All genres of country and top 40s pop," he called back. "Enjoy!"
Sam shook his head.
"You're unbelievable."
"She had it coming."
Then they heard her scream in outrage.
Elena's ran a frustrated hand through her hair and forced herself to breathe evenly. All her music was still on her laptop. It could be copied onto her iPod again.
I didn't even think he knew how to work an iPod!
Despite how it looked and how she acted last night, she knew exactly why Dean had done this, and that alone stopped her from strangling him. She knew he would settle the score somehow, but she hadn't thought he would go to the lengths he had to get her back.
Elena sighed. Whatever. She'd intended to prod the sleeping dragon, so she could live with a few half-eaten candy bars. Why she'd done it? That might be one of the eternal questions. It had been a whim, mostly. To see what he'd do. And maybe she was feeling a little emboldened by the beer, like she'd almost been last week. What happened in the parking lot replayed in her mind constantly. It dredged up memories of the post-embarrassment the morning after that she hid under the worst hangover of her life. She'd almost kissed Dean Winchester. Her best friend.
He almost kissed you, her thoughts treacherously corrected.
She shook her head to clear it.
Let's not think about that.
She turned off the iPod and set it on the counter, then looked up at the mirror to take her hair out of the tight ponytail it was in. She gasped at the red streaks that had been drawn in broad strokes on the glass.
GET YOUR OWN PIE.
"DEEEEEEEEAN!"
She came out of the bathroom and Dean had to duck to avoid a shoe aimed at his head.
"What?" he asked innocently. Her eyes were wide and incredulous. Slowly, her hand came up to hold a small black tube in front of her for both brothers to see. The red stick was now broken unevenly down to the base, nearly about to fall onto the floor.
"That was my good goddamn lipstick!"
"Well that was my good goddamn pie!"
Her eyes widened even more, if possible, and she pointed the lipstick at him with an angrily shaking fist.
"You're buying me a new one in the next town we stop in, goddamn it!"
Dean sat up at the edge of his seat and pointed back at her.
"Only if you buy me a whole pie!"
"Oh fuck you," she seethed. And he feigned a hurt expression. She called bullshit.
"No need to get nasty."
"I'm the one who got nasty? You ruined my lipstick and ate my chocolate over a piece of pie!"
"It was pumpkin pie," as if that was a legitimate excuse.
"It was MAC lipstick," she countered. Dean gave her a bland look.
"Is that supposed to mean something to me?"
Elena made a sound of pure frustration and threw the now useless tube at him. He blocked it with his hand, but frowned when it stained his palm.
"You're so…male!"
"Well you're so…" Dean faltered, glanced at his hand, then held it up as evidence. "Girly."
"Oh, one tube of lipstick makes me girly?"
"That, and your girly shampoo and half the shit you leave in the bathroom! Every time you come out it smells like a fucking rainbow!"
"Excuse me if I don't want to smell like a toilet all day long."
Both paused at the heavy sigh that came from the other side of the room. Sam fixed them with a look that said he was one hundred percent done with their shit.
"You're both childish."
The two looked at one another, then back to him.
"Shut up, Sam!"
"No one asked you!"
Sam just shook his head and went back to reading.
It was a good thing when he got them a case in Concrete, Washington: a small town that Dean initially jumped on at the prospect of saving naked women from ghosts in their showers. When the lead dried up, the whole thing was disappointing (not just for Dean's sake, but because they made the drive all the way out there). Until they found a man named Gus claiming (loudly) to have seen Bigfoot. The sheriff was highly skeptical, but after questioning the man and finding the place where he supposedly saw the thing…they found footprints.
Big footprints.
They followed them through the woods and to a general store that was pretty much trashed. The front door was broken open, bags of food littered on the floor, bottles upon bottles of booze broken. The whiskey shelves were significantly depleted.
"So what, Bigfoot breaks into a liquor store jonesing for some hooch?" Dean mused aloud. He squatted on the floor to examine the brown bottles. "Amaretto and Irish Cream."
He looked up at Sam with a grin.
"He's a girl-drink drunk."
"I resent that," Elena quipped.
"Yeah, well. You don't count."
She scoffed.
"What, as a girl?"
"You're not a girl-drink drinker."
"…Okay. That should prove my point."
"Elena," said Dean, "If it weren't for this job, you wouldn't be a drinker."
"What does that have to do with anything?" she asked. "I'm still a girl, aren't I?"
"Guys," Sam cut in, annoyance and amusement fighting for dominance. "Focus."
He walked over to the magazine rack and called them over. Dean raised his eyebrows.
"He took the whole porno rack?"
Sam pulled out a tuft of brown fur from between the shelves.
"Curiouser and curiouser," Elena muttered.
"I'll say it again," said Dean. "What the hell is going on in this town?"
They exited the trashed store and sat on a bench outside, no closer to figuring out what was happening than before. And then a little girl on her bike rode past with a yellow crate attached to the back, and a magazine flew out. Dean picked it up and they all looked at the provocative cover.
"She's a little young for Busty Asian Beauties."
Her house was too large and too well kept for just one little girl, as they soon found out her parents weren't home, it boded more red flags as to the weirdness level. Especially after she started talking about her teddy bear, rather than a Bigfoot doing all the shoplifting and booze drinking and porno reading.
Under the guise of…teddy bear doctors ready to treat her mentally unstable stuffed animal, they went into the house upstairs and to her bedroom.
"He's in my room…he's really grumpy," she warned, and knocked on the door. "Teddy? There's some nice doctors here to see you!"
She opened the door.
"Close the friggin' door!" came the squeaking reply from a large, stuffed bear with black buttons for eyes. But it was life-size, and it was scaring the hell out of Elena.
"What the fuck?" she mouthed to Dean, who slowly shook his head and shared a wide-eyed look with Sam when the girl closed the door again.
"See what I mean?" she pleaded.
"How long has your bear been able to…talk?" Elena asked.
"All I ever wanted was a teddy bear that was big, real, and talked," she told them. "But now he's sad all the time. Not ouch sad, but ouch in the head sad. He does weird stuff, and smells like the bus!"
"Um, little girl," Dean began, but she cut him off with a pointed, "Audrey!"
He paused, eyes widening.
"Audrey," he corrected himself, "how exactly did your teddy become real?"
"I wished for it," she said simply.
"You wished for it?" Sam repeated.
"At the wishing well."
Dean nodded and opened the door again. Teddy was watching the news while drinking out of a whiskey bottle; a bombing that had buildings up in flames.
"Can you believe this crap?" he asked Dean incredulously.
"…Not really."
"It is a terrible world." He looked over sharply, startling Dean a bit. "WHY am I HERE?"
"For tea parties!" Audrey insisted.
"Tea parties…is that all there is?" the bear cried. His mouth moved when he talked and it was unnerving with that huge red bow around his neck and glassy, plastic beads for eyes. Dean closed the door when the teddy bear began to weep.
"You look traumatized," Elena whispered to him. He leaned over to her.
"I think the bear is worse off."
"Audrey," said Sam gently, "Give us a second, okay?"
She nodded, and the three of them stepped to the side.
"Are we…should we…" Sam paused, then whispered, "Are we going to kill this teddy bear?"
"How?" Dean asked. "Do we shoot it, burn it?"
"I don't know."
"Guys," Elena interjected. "We can't kill this poor little girl's bear!"
"Besides, I don't want some giant, flaming pissed off toy on our hands," said Dean.
"Yeah…I don't think the bear is really the core problem here," Sam pointed out.
"And why is this girl home alone?" asked Elena. They turned to Audrey, and Sam asked her where her parents were.
"My mom wished they were in Bali, so I think they're in Bali."
That threw Sam for a loop.
"Okay…well, I'm really sorry to have to break this to you, but your bear is sick," he said. Audrey frowned sadly. "Yeah, he's got, uh…"
"Lollipop disease," Dean finished. Sam agreed on it, while Elena wanted to slap her hand over her face. "It's not uncommon for a bear his size, but see, it's really contagious."
"Yeah, so is there maybe a grownup that you can stay with while we treat him?" Sam asked.
"Well, Mrs. Turley lives down the street," she said. Dean nodded in approval.
"Yeah, perfect," said Sam. "We'd like you to stay there for a few days, okay?"
"Okay," she agreed.
"Oh, and Audrey?" Dean asked. "Where is this wishing well?"
They walked in the Chinese restaurant just as a blonde ten-year-old was walking out, brushing past Dean. There was a "wishing well" in the center of the place.
"Think it works?" Dean asked.
"Any other reason for Teddy back there?" Sam replied. Dean pursed his lips and nodded.
"There's one way to find out," he said, reaching into his pocket. He tossed in a coin and closed his eyes while making his wish.
"What are you gonna wish for?"
"Shhh. Not supposed to tell."
The front doorbell rang as it opened, a delivery man in a green outfit holding a sub.
"Anyone order a foot-long Italian with jalapeño?" Dean raised his hand hesitantly.
"That would be me," he said. They sat down at a table with his free sub, which he was quite content with. Between the sandwich, the teddy, and the guy winning the lottery in the local paper, that pretty much nailed the wishing well as being legit.
"And I'm guessing that," Sam said, gesturing with his eyes to the couple eating together, but being all flirty and nauseating. He was clearly the mathlete back in high school with his khaki pants and sweater vest and glasses, while she'd been the prom queen, all eyelash curlers and miniskirts. Something didn't match up there.
"I dunno, they seem happy to me," said Elena.
"Add that to the list," Dean muttered. "What are we supposed to do, huh? Stop people's wishes from coming true? Sounds like kind of a douchey thing to do."
"Yeah maybe," Sam allowed. "But come on, man. When it's something like this it doesn't come without a price tag. And usually a deadly one."
"Eh. I don't know," said Dean. "This is a damn good sandwich."
He took another large bite.
"All right, we stay until we find out what's wrong."
An older Chinese man, most likely the restaurant's manager, came up to their table and informed them that they didn't allow people to eat "outside" food in the restaurant. Dean coolly came back with a health inspector badge, prompting Sam and Elena to do the same, and claimed the place had a rat infestation. The manager was beside himself, but it allowed them to examine the fountain once the place was closed and everyone was out.
It was a more or less typical fountain, save for the hexed coin they found at the bottom. They couldn't pry it off, not even with a hammer and crowbar that almost gave the manager a heart attack. Sam used a piece of paper and a pencil to shade the coin's mark. He shoved it into Dean's hands.
"You gotta look into this."
"Why me?"
"Because something just occurred to me."
With that he walked out the door, leaving Dean and Elena to look at one another curiously. And to deal with the manager giving them the evil eye.
After they managed to talk down the old man and escape the restaurant unscathed, Dean and Elena made their way to the motel they'd book that morning. Passing through a courtyard and parking lot, a group of boys ran straight through with a smaller blonde kid chasing after them. The kid stopped to meet Dean's stare.
Wait a second, he thought. That's the kid from the…
"You got a problem, mister?" he asked pointedly. Dean's eyes widened.
"N-No." The boy nodded after a second and went after the boys that had been chasing him around just that morning.
"You gonna give him your lunch money?" Elena teased. Dean gave her a sideways glance.
"Shut up."
He paused, holding his stomach when it gurgled loudly. A sharp pain hit him in the lower abdomen.
"Is your stomach imploding?" she asked, sidestepping from him.
"Oooh, I don't feel good."
"Oh shit."
It was a mad dash back to the motel, where Dean subsequently upchucked everything he'd ever eaten. At least, that's what it felt like. For the first twenty minutes, he'd closed the bathroom to be by himself in his misery, but just when his legs started to go numb from kneeling, he heard a gentle knock on the door.
"Hey…you okay?"
Dean groaned. He used the counter as leverage to get up. Then Elena was there with a cup full of cold water and some Tums for when he washed his mouth out.
"Thanks," he murmured. Embarrassment kept him from looking at her face, but he would've seen her amused and sympathetic smile.
"I think it was the jalapeño," she teased lightly, and dabbed at his sweaty face with a damp towel after he'd eaten the Tums (or Pepto-patties, as Dean called them; just with more flavors).
"I think I just gave up a kidney," he said with a moan, and held up a finger. "Hold up."
To his relief Elena left the bathroom while he continued to vomit, but by the time he was done she was back with more water. The front door opened and closed, signaling Sam's arrival.
"Dean…you all right?"
"He's okay now," said Elena.
"The wishes turn bad, Sam," Dean said weakly. "The wishes turn very bad."
"Sandwich, huh?"
"Yeah. The coin is Babylonian," he told Sam. "It's cursed. I found some fragments of a legend…"
Dean paused a moment to cough, hating the taste of bile that made its way up his throat and went back down.
"I'm good," he grinned weakly, to which Sam smiled back with pity.
"The serpent is Tiamet," said Elena as she sat on the bed across from him. "The Babylonian god of primordial chaos. Their priests must have been working on serious black magic."
They made the coin?" Sam asked.
"Yeah," said Dean, who sat down next to Elena. "To sow the seeds of chaos. Whoever makes a wish at the wishing well and tosses in the coin turns on the well. Then it starts granting wishes to all comers."
"But the wishes get twisted," Sam supplied with a grin. "You ask for a talking teddy…"
"You get a bipolar nut job."
"And you get E. coli." Dean's expression turned grim as he sipped at his water.
"This thing has even wiped a few cities off the map," said Elena. "One person gets their wish, that's trouble, but if everybody gets they're wish…"
"It's chaos," Sam finished. "Anyway to stop it?"
"One way," Dean nodded. "We gotta find the first wisher. Whoever dropped the coin in and made the first wish, they're the only ones who can pull it back out and reverse the wishes. So for now we've got a couple of nutso wishes come true, but once the word gets out about the well, things are just gonna get crazier and crazier."
Deciding that they needed their five hours and no one would be awake by then anyway, they tried to sleep. It didn't come so easy for Sam, so he ended up getting up in a couple hours to research, while Elena woke maybe four hours after they went to sleep. She didn't get out of bed, but after a few minutes of being awake, she saw Dean twitching in his sleep. It made Sam clench his jaw when he saw.
"He's having a nightmare," she said quietly. Sam didn't answer, though it looked like he knew exactly what Dean was going through when he started murmuring in his sleep.
"Sam, we should wake him up."
That's good actually, Sam thought. Maybe he'll finally tell both of us how he remembers Hell.
Sam knew it. Elena wanted to believe Dean's lie.
"Dean," Sam said loud enough to rouse his brother, who woke with a start, fumbling to get into a sitting position.
"Sleep well?" Sam asked knowingly.
"Tanned, rested and ready for action," Dean said, and it was weak even to his own ears. Elena frowned when he picked up a bottle of whiskey off the floor and took a swig.
"I know what's happening." Dean looked back at Sam.
"What do you mean?"
"The nightmares, the drinking—I'm with you 24/7, Dean, I know when something's up," said Sam. And it looked like Elena finally believed it too. Dean signed and tossed the bottle onto the bed.
"Sam, please."
"Uriel wasn't lying, but you are." Dean got up, but Sam stayed in his seat, watching him with perceptive eyes. "You remember Hell, don't you?"
Dean looked from his brother's expectant face to Elena's sad one, and back.
"What do you want from me, huh?" he asked, smiling though there was no humor in it. "What?"
"The truth, Dean," said Sam. "I mean, I'm your brother. I just wish you'd talk to me."
It was in times like this that Elena realized this was a brother-to-brother conversation, even if she was in the room. Sometimes it forced the other to be more honest knowing she was there to call bullshit, other times it did the opposite, and they waited for an actual one-on-one conversation to say what they had to say. She didn't mind it, preferred it actually. Sometimes she felt caught in the middle, forced to pick a side, back when she'd first joined them and stress levels were at an all-time high with Dean's demon deal.
But now felt like one of those times where Dean's hand would be forced, because both she and Sam were listening and waiting for him to answer.
"Be careful what you wish for," he said, grinning a little.
"Cute," Sam said, sarcasm coloring his tone.
"Come on, can we stow the couple's therapy, huh? I wanna work."
Or Dean could weasel his way out of talking. Fine, Elena thought. But he couldn't do it forever.
The problem they faced with the case was they had three options that they knew of from the last two weeks: an invisible kid that Sam caught the day before spying on women in the shower, the guy with the girlfriend way out of his league, and the teddy bear. Not to mention any others they hadn't heard of yet. Dean pointed out the local newspaper, which listed Wesley Mondale and Hope Casey as newly engaged—the couple in the restaurant.
"Really?" Elena said, her expression dimming.
"Why, what's the matter?" asked Dean.
"I just…they looked happy to me," she said. If that guy had made a wish just to get the love of a pretty girl he never thought he could have in real life…
That kind of thing tended to piss her off.
"Yeah, cause the guy wished on a coin."
Elena didn't answer. It tipped off both of the brothers, but Dean wouldn't press it right after he'd just diverted Sam's "twenty questions."
Instead, they asked around town and made their way to Wesley's house. Who they could only assume was Hope opened the door with a confused look, one that brightened into a smile when they introduced themselves as florists her fiancé had asked to drop by and discuss possibilities for the wedding. "Wes" was sitting comfortable in a living room chair and a plate of roasted chicken untouched beside him on a tray, and the smile plastered on his face fell as Hope left the room to go get her "folders" of wedding ideas.
"So, coin collector. Huh, Wes?" Sam commented. He viewed the shelves on the wall with several coins in a glass case, none of which that looked the same.
"Oh yeah," Wes said absently, then, catching their meaning, his tone turned less absent-minded. "My grandfather gave them to me."
"You happen to lose one of those coins lately?" Dean asked. "And by 'lose' I mean drop it in a wishing well at Lucky Chin's, and make a wish on it."
Of course Wes denied it, like they knew he would, and Hope returned with a massive folder filled with labels and dividers.
"I was thinking a Japanesey…Cabana kind of thing, ya know?" she said with a smile. Dean returned it with mock enthusiasm, knowing she wouldn't be able to tell the difference.
"That sounds great. I can see it."
"So, Hope," said Sam, "When did you two love birds meet?"
"Oh, best day of my life," she sighed. "It's the funniest thing…we both grew up here but I never really knew who he was. Not by name anyway."
Shocker, Elena thought, and watched Wes become more nervous.
"Until one day last month, it's like I just…saw him," said Hope, caressing Wes's face after setting down the load in her hands. "The first time he was just…glowing."
"Uh, babe, can you get us some coffee?" Wes tried to diffuse the heat they all could see in Hope's eyes, but couldn't keep her hands off him when she attacked his lips. The hunters could only stare as he eventually was able to pry her off. She practically skipped to the kitchen.
"We know, Wes," Sam said bluntly when she was out of earshot. "So tell us the truth."
After a moment, Wes sighed and led them over to the coin collection. He explained that his grandfather found it during a trip in Africa and brought it back, claiming it was a real wish-granting coin, though no one should ever use it.
"Yeah…he was all I had," said Wes. "And when he died, I thought, 'well, you know what? Why not give the coin a shot?'"
"Yeah, well, now you're gunna wish it back," said Sam. Wes laughed a bit, but when their faces remained stony, he realized they were serious.
"Oh, ha-ha. No I'm not," he refused.
"If you don't stop, something bad is going to happen," Elena warned.
"Something bad," Sam agreed, "Like us."
Dean pulled out his gun and held it casually.
"We really wish you'd come with us."