Author's notes: Counting down the days till January 15… And keep rewatching Season 3 :))

Chapter 9

Bela stretched herself lazily in half-daze, still not fully awake, and rolled over expecting to see… someone who obviously wasn't there.

"Dean?" His name echoed awkwardly in the empty room, and before the sound faded away Bela already knew that he wasn't anywhere in her apartment.

Small smile gone on the instant, she sat upright on a rush and gawked dumbly at the empty space for several extremely long moments. Then her hand groped around the other half of the bed as if he could have become invisible and gotten lost somewhere between the blankets. Okay, nothing was impossible, true. But not this time, apparently.

Soft cotton sheets were cold. Bela pressed her palm hard into them, her fingers squeezed thin material tightly, grasping for something that was long gone. Could still feel the taste of his kiss on her lips and the touch of his hands to her skin… Bloody hell!

The sound of her fridge working in the kitchen announced that the problems with electricity were no longer the reason for concern. Other than that – nothing. The silence was pressing, almost insufferable.

Something that never bothered her before was quickly becoming a problem.

Lonely… Cheated? Oh, God!

"Lovely, Dean!" Bela fell backwards onto the pillow that still lingered his smell on a short humorless laugh. Ran her fingers through her tangled hair. "And what was that about?" She asked into the air staring at the snow-white ceiling. "Dropped in for a little one night stand? How very typical of you. Not that it was what I expected but… Why am I not at all surprised?" Paused. "And here I am talking to myself. Brilliant! First step towards madhouse or what?"

The mattress shifted and settled.

Bela turned her head and saw that her cat jumped up onto the bed and was making his way cautiously to her sniffing at the air, tail up and ears twitching, catching every sound.

"Hey there," she reached her arm out, smiling. First positive emotion in the last five minutes. Her cat thumped his head into her palm, purring. "Let's pretend I was talking to you, okay?" She scratched him between the ears. "Couldn't wake me up when he was leaving? What was it? Corporate male ethics?" But he only rubber his nose against the backside of her hand in reply.

Bela resisted a wish to bury herself deeper into the warmth of her blankets for several hours more, and got out of the bed on a groan. Knew that the best idea was to move on with her daily routine instead of allowing this pain and embarrassment consume her completely, bit by bit. Not now when the memories were still too fresh in her mind. She'd think of what to do about all this mess later, she decided; when her thoughts settled, not when recalling the things she was saying to Dean in the depth of the night could practically cause her go and drown herself in the sink, out of humiliation mostly.

Victim of Dean Winchester number… Oh, she didn't want to think about that.

It was unbearable to even start thinking that she was foolish enough to actually fall… And, okay, she didn't want to think about that either!

Jesus, what was she thinking? Okay, rhetorical question. She wished she could thump her face into the pillow and cover her head with another one for the rest of the week at least. Or till the end of the world, which made no difference to her. Both variants looked equally tempting.

"Could have at least left a goodbye note," she accused the image in her head.

Bela was out of the shower, which didn't help much with all these thoughts in her head about Dean Winchester probably having a list of the fools that fell for him some time or another and her name topping it at the moment, and halfway down the staircase when the realization struck her, terrible and yet so obvious that it nearly made her stumble and gasp for air, like a punch in the gut, or a stab in the back, depending.

She anything but rolled downstairs not quite caring about the risk to wring her neck, half-formed crazy thoughts rushing through her head accompanied by horrible images flashing before her mind's eye. Snatched her cell phone from the counter. Her fingers trembled when she was hurriedly flipping through the phonebook and Bela missed the dial button twice before actually pushing it once her eyes caught the name she was looking for.

"Come on, pick the bloody phone," she pleaded waiting for connection. "Come on, Dean!"

His phone was off though.

Cursing under her breath, Bela found another number. Her stomach was flip-flopping so violently that it made her feel sick and dizzy.

Oh, God, please let her be wrong just this time! Let it be only a twist of her imagination!

But Bela knew better than that. She knew she was right and she didn't need a confirmation. Hell, she didn't want to hear the confirmation!

All this tenderness, all these words, everything… There was some finality about them – oh, what a terrible word! – like he knew that it was their only night; like he wanted to say goodbye. Oh, and she called Sam drama queen! Gee, it seemed like a bad joke now. And she was foolish enough, terribly foolish, to miss it; blind enough not to see it, to let it slip So tired of looking for the second meaning in every word and gesture, wishing like hell for something to happen without a reason. What a tease!

His grave face at Bobby's; his thoughtfulness and reticence during their drive to Queens; pain in his eyes when he was looking at her, which he tried to mask behind cheeky smile and which Bela thought was related to something else – all pieces came together and made a clear picture. Even Sam's anxiety fitted. Whatever Dean was up to, he was too realistic to hope for good outcome. And yet stupid enough to try anyway.

Sam picked his phone up when she was about to hang up and start another round.

"Bel…"

"Where is Dean?"

"What?" Definitely with confusion.

Bela could practically hear the wheels turning in his head, had no problem with imagining him frown. Sam sounded sleepy. Did she wake him up? Damn it! The whole situation seemed insane.

"Where is Dean?" She repeated slowly – said each word loud enough to make them as clear as possible; pressed her hand to her breast in fruitless attempt to slow her heartbeat.

"He went to you," Sam started, and here his frown probably deepened.

Okay, wrong question. Wrong approach.

"What is the case you're working on?" She demanded. Something suicidal?

"I don't understand, what does it have…?"

"What is Dean up to?" Bela interrupted him. "Sam, please…" Bit her bottom lip so hard that she felt the taste of blood in her mouth. She was miserable, and she knew it. And she didn't care.

The pause was so long… as if it lasted forever. Or maybe the time stopped.

Bela swallowed hard, held her breath feeling like someone squeezed her lungs. Had to grasp at the edge of a cold marble counter when her knees were close to giving in. She waited, fighting back a wish to shout demanding for the answers, and yet incapable of making a sound.

She could hear some vague noises on the Sam's end of the call. Some rustles, maybe voices, but she wasn't sure. Thought at first that he was in the car and it was highway, but then it might as well be TV in his motel room, or a diner, or God knew what else. Bela wondered somewhat distractedly if Dean could leave Sam behind too, and had to admit that yes, he could, easily. She wouldn't put it past him. It was hard to put anything past Dean. Caring older brother who didn't want to involve the younger one into something dangerous. He made a deal after all, sold his own soul. Hell if he was asking for advice then. Hell if he was going to do it now.

"Listen, Bela, it's nothing," on the heaviest sigh ever.

"What?" She blinked, confused.

"The case. Nothing special, usual stuff."

"To hell with it!" She snapped. "Damn it, Sam! Where is Dean? I need to talk to him." Closer to pleading than she ever thought she could be.

"I don't know!" With frustration now. Bela heard him huff and had to admit that it was justified because, seriously, looking from aside their conversation was weird. "I told you, he went to you."

"And you don't know where he was going to go… after me?" Damn, it sounded so… so…

"No."

"And he… he didn't call?"

"No." A pause. "Did anything happen?"

Where to start?

Well, at least she made him worry. Terrific! What now? "No, nothing. Nothing at all."

Bela closed her eyes on a sharp intake of breath that went in past burning pain in her chest and counted mentally to five before opening them again. Panic was rising within her in waves making straight thinking nearly impossible. And fury was somewhere there, too. At Dean. At herself. At Sam. At the whole bloody world.

"Um, Bela…" an impatient reminder that they still were talking. Sort of.

"Fine," she hissed. "Just in case your brother shows up, tell him that it was a cheap goodbye gesture." She cringed at how it sounded, and tried not think about how it happened. Sam must have blinked. Had to. She probably would in his place. "Honestly, I'm disappointed!" She took a breath. It was okay, anger was good. Much better than fear. "And one more thing – I find him alive, I'll kill him myself!"

***

Sam stared at the screen of his cell phone where the timer stopped at one minute fifteen seconds, and then turned to look at his brother.

"What part of don't drag me into this you didn't understand, Dean?"

"Thanks, man," quietly, without raising his eyes up from the floor where he was studying… whatever one could be studying on the floor of a warehouse. God, he wished he had enough courage to pick up his phone. Just to hear her voice.

"She's worried," Sam added somewhat mischievously. "Like, really worried."

"You're not making it easier, Sammy, you know that?"

"Well, I'm not supposed to make your life easier, Dean," on a matter-of fact shrug. And then, curiously, "No, seriously, what happened between you two?"

"It's Bela, dude! What the hell could have happened between us?"

"Well, I don't know! First you forget about everything and rush to her, and then she calls and sounds like she's ready to jump into the fire after you… um, maybe right after throwing you there first—"

"I think I heard that part," Dean muttered.

"—Wanna hear my best guess?"

He decided to omit the part about Dean calling him in the middle of the night, which was something entirely unexpected, and then turning his phone off as soon as they rejoined because he… well, Sam could hardly say that his brother feared to received a phone call from someone but he definitely was uneasy about it. Edgy even.

And all he received for an explanation was an unnaturally exciting story about how wonderful it would be not to wait for the demons to show up. Oh, like anyone could ever believe that it was the result of his communication with Bela! Please! And whenever Sam mentioned her name Dean always had something else to say, or to discuss, or to politely advise his brother to shut up. Her name on the caller ID meant trouble. It was tempting to turn his phone off too, out of wish to stay away from the mess of a relationship between her and Dean, but then – Bobby could have called, and it was unnecessary to make him worry for no reason. If only this absolutely suicidal plan wasn't a good reason.

"Changed your mind about the details?" Dean sneered.

Sam cringed. "I'm not talking about the details. I'm talking about…" He rolled his eyes on an irritated huff. "Whatever! Forget it."

"That's what I'm trying to do," Dean sighed and made another lame attempt to block his mind to anything Bela-related because the more he was thinking… the more he wanted to know an answer to Sam's question. Jump into the fire after you. Hell, it wasn't working! He got to his feet, clapped his hands and looked at Sam. "Okay, job's waiting. Are you done there?"

"Yeah," Sam observed the results of his activities and nodded.

Abandoned warehouses outside New-York seemed like a perfect choice for what they were going to do. Old buildings, half-destroyed by time and people. It was hardly possible that someone would show up here out of curiosity or something else.

"But I'm still not sure that summoning Lilith for a small talk is a good idea," Sam added.

"And I don't think that it's a good idea to wait till she calls us for a tea party," Dean hemmed. It might work. He looked thoughtfully around. A small talk and maybe a cold-hearted murder in the end. Or in the beginning. Dean had nothing against skipping the talking part.

Devil traps were drawn all over the place and covered with cardboard and other junk. Not that he seriously hoped that it would be of much help. These sons of bitches were smarter than that. But sitting around and waiting for someone to come and hunt him down was even crazier.

Dean's look moved to the black candles lit up for the ritual and John's journal lying nearby. He didn't feel good about any of that either. It was like walking on thin ice, if only it was a good comparison in the situation when it was hell fire instead of cold water waiting for them in case if this so-called ice broke. And still he was determined not to give Lilith a chance to find them first.

"Okay, Sammy, your turn!" He beamed at his brother as if they were talking about going to the summer camp. It was nervousness though, not excitement; they both knew it. "Make this demon phone work. Let the show begin!"

***

Bela broke at least ten traffic rules over the first two miles of driving. And a couple of dozens more over the next twenty. Her silver car was nearly flying over the highway, her foot stepping deeper on the gas, eyes focused and fingers clutching steering wheel so hard that they probably were halfway to growing into the plastic.

The only way to find Dean was to track down his cell phone, which didn't work the way she expected since the aforementioned phone was turned off. She could have tried to track down his car as well, check on the records of the police cameras and everything, but it would have taken too much time. And the patience she didn't have.

Talking board was not the most reliable source of information and Bela knew it. Spirits could lie, and they did. A lot. But it was all she had. She was too nervous, couldn't concentrate well enough. Couldn't form a question in her head. Her fingers trembled on the planchette and it was perhaps the first time when Bela wasn't a hundred percent sure who was moving it around the flat surface – the other side or she. But she got an answer at last. The location. She resisted a curious wish to ask what the hell he might need in the abandoned industrial area some forty miles outside New-York. Knowing that it wasn't anything good was enough at the moment.

Bela wanted to call Sam and tell him what she found out. Well, she did actually only to hear a polite voice on the other end of the line informing her that the phone was probably switched off and advising to call later.

It caught Bela immediately, if a little belatedly. Made her wonder why Sam didn't sound genuinely worried when they talked. Uneasy – yes, and a bit irritated as always when he was talking to her, but not exactly scared for his brother. Moreover, he didn't call her back right after their rather insane conversation, which surprised Bela assuming how much she knew about family bonds between the Winchesters. They might be mad and pissed off with each other like hell but still cared too much to just ignore even a hint for a danger. Besides, all this trouble to bring Dean back and be so cavalier about his well-being after that? It didn't look like Sam.

I don't understand what you're talking about, Bela, she mimicked him in her mind turning the key in the ignition and driving out of the underground parking, tires squealing on sharp turns.

Okay, maybe it was not so bad idea to ask the spirits about what the Winchesters were up to. Bela wasn't sure she wanted to stumble into some dirty party… Well, she didn't think they were partying exactly. Not really. But rushing into what could be a trap was not the smartest of all things considered either. Unfortunately, this bright thought occurred to her when she had already left twenty miles between herself and her apartment.

Bela cast a quick look at the gloves compartment where her gun was waiting for its turn to go into action and sighed. There were only a few things in her reality that could be killed so easily. Still, being armed like that was better than not being armed at all. Not the most consoling thought, she had to admit, but she didn't cared. Hell if she was going to let Dean do something stupid. Something else stupid.

Oh, God, please help me get there until it's too late. Please…

***

Lilith had him pinned to the wall, guts twisting inside of him as if someone was ripping them apart from the very moment she showed up. Dean had no problems with imagining hundreds of little piranhas in every part of his body, which wasn't really helping matters. The pain was almost intolerable.

He clenched his teeth so tight that it almost hurt. Not as much as his entrails of course, but enough to keep him concentrated on something other than agonizing pain in his stomach.

She didn't come here alone. It would have been too good to be true if she did, Dean thought somewhat absently. One of the members of her cheerleaders' team knocked Sam out right away, and now he was lying at the wall, unconscious. Dean almost envied him wishing like hell to finally end his torture.

Little girl who least of all resembled the greatest evil in the world was standing right before him, watching Dean curiously, and maybe a tad appraisingly, with her big blue eyes. Oh, he hated it.

Lilith had a small walking tour around the warehouse – child's curiosity, Dean guessed. He knew it was just a body; that she wasn't a child, and this knowledge was making the whole picture look even more eerie and sinister. Bloody bitch missed all Devil traps! Must have had a radar for them or something. Made Dean want to groan with annoyance, if only the wish to moan with pain wasn't stronger. He wasn't going to give her this pleasure though.

"What do you want?" He muttered, each sound making his suffering even worse.

"You called me first, silly!" The girl laughed with delight, as if he really was fooling around for fun. Oh, sure, like he could have forgotten this little fact. "Now you tell me what you want."

Okay, informative conversation was out of agenda. Dean seriously doubted that explaining all his reasons would be fruitful, too.

I'd tell you, sweetheart, only you wouldn't like it!

Ruby's magic knife was still tucked behind the waistband of Sam's jeans, which was thirty feet away from him. From motionless him to be exact. And Dean had a strong belief that his brother would be mounted to the wall like some freaking hunting trophy the next moment he came to his senses. So, logically speaking, the knife was out of the game. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but that was not exactly an outcome Dean could foresee.

Should have called Bobby to join their little party after all. An ambush. Plan B. Could have worked better. Okay, could have worked, more like it.

So, he only snickered. Or tried to. At least his lips curved.

"Oh, look what I have!"

Dean missed the moment entirely – was that a bomb that exploded somewhere within him? – but when his eyes focused on Lilith once again, they nearly popped out of his head. He'd gladly let his jaw drop too, if it wasn't for pain.

She was holding the Colt in her hands. The Colt. Their Colt. The one that Bela borrowed so boldly. The only weapon capable of killing the bitch almost within a reach of an arm, and she was twiddling it in her fingers like a toy, obviously teasing him.

Bloody hell!

Dean strained himself fighting to move, to ease the pain somehow. God, he had to do something! Wasn't planning on committing suicide, or giving up like that, or…

Why was he feeling like something was eating him from inside?!

Oh, if only he could get the Colt back. Just one little moment of relief would be enough. He needed a chance to think. There probably were demons all over the place. The woman that knocked Sam out stood leaning against the wall and watching the performance with genuine interest. Dean tried not to think about her. Or the others. It was Lilith he was interested in. Maybe it was a bad idea after all.

"What's your point, really?" He made an attempt to smirk, and cringed when it failed. Hoped she appreciated it anyway. "You've got enough damned souls down there. Why not leave the rest of us alone? Okay, I got it, you have an issue about my family. I'm flattered, believe me. But that's too much honor."

"You naughty boy," Lilith frowned and pouted as if she was talking to a puppy who stole her favorite dolly to play. "You escaped so soon."

"Sorry, baby, someone wanted me here too much." Jesus, each breath was like a sharp knife into his lungs. And what was the worst thing – it felt strangely familiar, on subconscious level. Like he had already experienced it before…

"I thought you called me because you wanted to go back."

Dean chocked. Could have sworn that it sounded like an accusation. Could she be serious?

"Maybe some other time," on half-smile half-wince, his fingers scraping against rough surface of the wall.

"Don't you want to go back and have fun again, Dean?" Lilith cocked her head. Her mood was changing so fast that he could barely keep up with it. "You're so mean! I thought you enjoyed it as much as I did!"

"Let's trade places, sweetheart, and we'll see how you're going to enjoy it," he muttered. "What do you want to leave us alone?" Louder, like offering a deal, or something. Oh, no, he didn't mean it. No more deals!

"Leave?" Her laugh was so out of place when Dean was grasping at the bits of his sanity. "You're so funny! I don't want anything, I want you to go back with me. Ask your friend, she must remember all the great time we had together."

And Lilith poked her little finger somewhere behind her back.

Dean shifted his gaze and… hadn't he been pinned to the wall already, read left completely immobile, he'd definitely freeze to the spot. Pain forgotten – as much as it was possible – within a moment; his heart fell. Eyes met Bela's, wide with panic and pure horror. He swallowed hard…

To be continued…

Reviews and comments are always welcome! :))