In a queer parallel, Sam isn't there when she wakes but Dean is staring at her intently, green eyes focused on her softly sleeping face. She smiles a little at him, shifts to a more comfortable position, flexes her fingers.
"You still don't like me," she states calmly. He shakes his head.
"Nope." She smiles and rolls over, her back towards him.
"That's okay. As long as you don't try to shoot me again, you don't have to like me. I won't blame you." He nods and runs his tongue over his teeth. He doesn't have to say anything.
When Sam comes in the door, laden with coffee, tea, and a newspaper, Dean and Marie are on separate beds watching reruns of I Love Lucy and not looking at each other.
"I've got a job for us," Sam says, passing out the drinks. "There have been a few deaths in a lake in North Carolina – stuff that isn't usual for an offshoot of an urban metropolis, like this one is. Fish are dying and reeds are growing in odd places, and nobody can understand why."
"Dude," Dean says skeptically. "How did you even figure this out? You were getting coffee, for God's sake. Did somebody just wave you over and say 'Oh my god, you're so hot, and by the way I've got a hunt for you'?" Sam grins.
"Actually, kind of, yeah. Except there wasn't any 'Oh my god, you're so hot.' I met a girl in the shop who was really upset about a friend being too close to a drowning for her comfort. So I was talking to Sharisse, and I could tell she was holding something back, and so I asked. She thinks it's a kelpie, honestly." Dean lifts an eyebrow.
"What the hell is a kelpie?" Marie and Sam unintentionally ignore him.
"Christ, a dangerous kelpie in North America? They never come here deliberately." Sam nods.
"It looks like it." Marie whistles, running her hands through her hair before sliding out of the bed.
"Damn it. We had better get started then. Where is it?"
"The city is called Charlotte – oh, hell, it's big. But the kelpie is in a lake north of the city, so… Lake Norman? Marie, are you okay?" She nods.
"I used to live in Charlotte – Lake Norman is manmade. Where the hell would a kelpie come from?" Dean opts not to mention Marie's exponentially rising use of profanity, instead repeating his question from earlier.
"Hey, earth to Sammy. What the hell is a kelpie?" he interjects roughly. Marie turns to him.
"Kelpies are water horses who lure people into mostly harmless lakes until they drown. They're found in natural lakes – mostly in Great Britain and Ireland, though there have been a few mainland Europe reports here and there, and one other North American one that I've heard. The only way a kelpie could have gotten into Lake Norman is if it were bridled and brought by an incredibly intelligent human or a Fainean." Sam furrows his brow.
"Kelpies I've heard of, but Faineans?" Marie nods, grinning a little.
"You boys haven't had much relationship with the fey folk, have you?" Dean looks at Marie like she's sprouting feet out of her ears.
"You've got to be joking." She shakes her head.
"Dean, just because neither you nor John nor Ellen have ever interacted with an entity does not mean said entity does not exist. Some people are more susceptible to faerie interaction – and I'm the witch, so they tend to flock to me. A Fainean is one such faerie – she lures men into the lakes. The kelpie is her steed, and out of the water they appear just as if they're a regular woman and horse – that way they can move about without being detected. I knew one growing up – I was the only one out of our entire group of friends who knew exactly what she was. Her name was Rose."
"Do you think it's her, though?" Marie shakes her head at Sam's question.
"She's one of the few Faineans – and Meteor was one of the few kelpies – I've ever heard of who was completely harmless, even if her relationships were many and her personal heartbreaks few. No, this one's not my Rose, not if people are dying." Sam purses his lips, Dean rolls his eyes, and Marie slips into the bathroom. "Let me take a shower and we'll be out of here in no time. If you guys follow me, I can even get us to Lake Norman the short way. I mean, we're only in Brevard, so it shouldn't take more than two hours."
"Sounds fine," Sam calls out, and Dean lets out a sigh when the water starts to run.
"I don't like having a girl on the job, Sam," Dean says bluntly.
"Tough. I don't think we're going to be able to get rid of her – not even if I wanted to."