Author's Note
Hey everyone! :)
I hope you enjoy this chapter, and don't be afraid to let me know what you think :)
We spent the next couple of months on the job, dealing with a racist vengeful spirit, a guy with telekinesis, and a family of cannibalistic hillbillies. Yeah, you read that right- some humans decided that hunting game just wasn't cutting it, and moved on to chasing down people and… well, you know. I think you get the picture. Most of those stories had happy endings, except for the one belonging to Max Miller. To make a long story short, Sam discovered some new psychic powers that lead us to Max, a telekinetic man who had been abused for years and was taking his pain out on his abusers. When we tried to confront him, Max killed himself. That hit all of us pretty hard, but hit Sam the hardest- Max's mother had died just like Mary had, and Sam had gotten to know Max through their shared abilities. We took some time off after that one, and crashed in a nice (well, nicer than usual) motel to get some well-needed rest.
One morning, about a week into our stay, I woke up to a spray of cold water. I yelped and shot up in bed, and shoved my dripping hair out of my eyes. Dean was leaning over the side of the bed next to me, shaking his wet hair in my face while Sam cackled from the other side of the room.
"What the shit, jackass?" I yelled, and he gave me a goofy grin before turning to Sam and giving him the thumbs-up. While he wasn't looking, I leaped onto his back and locked my legs around his waist, and started tickling his sides. He yelped and tried to throw me off, but fell to the floor on his stomach, laughing so hard that tears came from his eyes. I sat on his lower back and raised my arms in triumph, and Sam cheered from his chair as Dean grumbled something about me fighting dirty. He reached back and tapped my thigh twice, and I rolled off of him and jumped to my feet, running over to high-five Sam.
"Victory is mine!" I cheered as Dean got up, pretending to be mad. To his credit, he managed to keep his composure for a good minute before he cracked and started laughing.
"All right, kid- you won that one," he said, managing to collect himself before tossing me a wrinkled paper bag. I peeked inside and pulled out a muffin, shoving a piece in my mouth.
"To what do I owe that lovely wakeup call?" I mumbled around the muffin, a few crumbs falling to the floor. Sam rolled his eyes at me before spinning his laptop around to face me. I plopped down in the chair in front of the screen and leaned in to take a look while I wove my hair into a Dutch braid down my back.
"Girl found dead in locked apartment, security system armed…" I mumbled to myself, and looked back up when I heard Sam speak.
"Sound like our kind of gig?" he said, smirking, and I secured the braid and swung it over my shoulder.
"Guess we're heading to Chicago," I replied, and grabbed my duffel bag, heading to the bathroom to change. I took off the tank top and boxers I had been wearing and traded them for my favorite long-sleeved black shirt and a pair of dark skinny jeans, and put on a little bit of makeup. I shoved my laundry into the canvas bag I kept in my duffel and left the bathroom, catching the soda that Sam threw to me. We walked to the car, and I threw my bags onto the floor of the backseat and climbed in after them, positioning myself so I could lean my back against the side of the car behind Dean. We pulled out of the lot and drove down the road, and once we had been driving for about an hour, I decided that I was bored. I scooted to the middle of the back seat and leaned forward to stick my head between the two brothers. Sam turned to look at me and smiled, looking up from the book he had been reading.
"Hey, El. What's up?" he asked, and I shrugged.
"Bored. Hungry. Deciding on my next existential crisis. You know, the usual," I responded, and Sam chuckled. "How much longer?"
"Probably 'bout an hour," Dean piped up, and turned to look at me, laughter shining in his bright green eyes. "Think you can survive 'til then?" I pretended to think for a second, and grinned back at him.
"Yeah, probably," I replied, and leaned back in my seat. I reached down and dug through my backpack for my iPod and put my earbuds in, closing my eyes.
I woke up half an hour later when I felt the car stop, and I opened my eyes and looked around. We had parked in an empty, somewhat sketchy alley, and I could hear Sam and Dean digging through the trunk. I stuck my head out the window to see what they were doing, and Dean looked over at me and grinned.
"Hey, kid," he said cheerfully, and I opened the car door so I could go stand by them.
"So what's the plan?" I asked, stopping to look them up and down. Sometime while I was sleeping, they had changed their clothes, and I laughed at their new outfits. "That's a good look, by the way."
"I feel like a high school drama dork," Dean grumbled, and then he laughed, seemingly remembering something. "What was that play you did?" he asked Sam, and Sam rolled his eyes and shrugged.
"Our Town, right?" I asked, and Sam nodded his head begrudgingly. "Yeah, I remember that one- Dean took me to see it. You were pretty good," I told him, and he smiled slightly at me before sighing and turning to Dean.
"Look, you wanna pull this off or not?" he asked, and Dean grumbled unhappily.
"I'm just sayin', these outfits cost hard-earned money, okay?"
"I didn't realize credit card fraud was so taxing," I smirked, and Dean shot me a look.
"Ella, you okay with staying in the car?" Sam asked, and I frowned at him.
"Dude, there's a cafe like right across the street- how about I go get something to eat and you text me when you're done?"
The two considered this for a moment before nodding, and I turned around to walk over, but didn't get very far before Dean reached out to grab my arm, spinning me around to face him.
"You still have that pepper spray I gave you?" he asked, and I rolled my eyes at him.
"Yes, and there's a knife in my boot and a fully-loaded gun strapped to my lower back. Can I go now?" I retorted, and he raised an eyebrow at me, but eventually nodded. I turned to walk away, feeling their eyes on my back.
"When the hell did she get a gun?" I heard Dean muttering to Sam, and I grinned and turned to wave at them before crossing the street and going into the cafe. I ordered a sandwich and a drink, and sat down at a table, pulling my laptop out of my bag. I was happily enjoying my meal in peace when a sleazy-looking guy plopped himself in the seat across from me and gave me what I assumed was supposed to be a flirty grin. I groaned internally and glared up at him, hoping he would get the message, but no such luck.
"Did it hurt?" he asked, and I rolled my eyes and looked over my computer screen.
"What?" I growled, but he just grinned at me.
"When you fell from heaven?" he continued, and looked at me expectantly, probably waiting for me to fall at his feet. I sighed loudly and slowly closed my computer so I could look him in the eyes, and smirked at him.
"No, but I skinned my knees crawling out of hell," I retorted, and watched his face fall as I put my laptop in my bag. "Now, if you'll be so kind as to excuse me, I really should be getting back- I've got a kingdom to run." With that, I stood up and walked away, waving coyly as I pushed the doors open and stepped out onto the street. As soon as the door had closed behind me, I felt a buzz from my pocket, and saw Sam and Dean milling around the car, looking unhappy about something. I darted across the street as soon as the Walk light turned on, flipping off some ass-clown in a Mercedes who decided that I was moving too slow and rudely honked at me.
"So, what'd you find?" I asked them as I walked up to the car, and opened the door to put my bag in the backseat.
"Nothing good," Dean replied, shaking his head, and moved to get into the car. "We'll explain later- I need a drink."
A few hours later, Dean and I sat in a bar a mile from Meredith's apartment. Dean had filled me in on the strange symbol they had found dripped in blood on the carpet and was now flirting with the rather attractive bartender, and I rolled my eyes at him as I drank my Diet Coke. Sam walked through the doors and looked around, and I waved him over before yelling to Dean.
"Dean, get your ass over here!"
Dean drained the last sip from his drink and smiled at the woman one last time before walking over to the table I had claimed in the corner. Sam had taken out John's journal and was leafing through it next to me, and Dean sat down in the seat across from us.
"So I talked to the bartender," he announced, and I rolled my eyes at him again.
"Did you find out anything besides her number and what she's doing tonight?" I teased him, and he looked over at me and pretended to be hurt by my jab.
"Hey, I'm a professional- I'm offended that you would think that," he retorted, and Sam cleared his throat, shooting him a knowing look. Dean dropped the act and grinned at him, holding up a napkin with the bartender's number on it. I snatched it out of his hand and shoved it down my bra before he could grab it back, and he glared at me. I smirked at him, and Dean shook his head at me before getting back to business.
"Look, there's nothing to find out. I mean, Meredith worked here- she waited tables, everyone here was her friend… Everybody said she was normal," Dean said, and I nodded in agreement.
"You find anything on that symbol?" I asked Sam, and he shook his head.
"Nope, nothing- it wasn't in Dad's journal or any of the usual books. I just have to dig a little deeper, I guess," he sighed, and I gave him a sympathetic smile before remembering something I had read in an article about Meredith's murder.
"Hey, wasn't there a victim before Meredith?" I asked Sam, and he nodded and pulled out a newspaper clipping.
"Yeah, his name was Ben Swardstrom," he replied, and handed Dean the clipping. "He was found mutilated in his town house last month, same deal- the door was locked, the alarm was on."
"Any connection between the two of them?" Dean asked, and I shook my head at him.
"Not as far as I could tell," I replied, and Sam nodded.
"Not yet, at least," he added. "Ben was a banker, Meredith was a waitress… They never met, never knew anyone in common- they were practically from different worlds."
"So, to recap, the only successful intel we've scored so far is the bartender's phone number," Dean said, glaring in my direction. I smirked at him, and he sighed, not daring to reach down my shirt and get it. I turned to Sam and saw that he was distracted by something at the other end of the room.
"Sam?" I asked, and he got up and started walking away. "Where are you going?" He ignore me and continued to walk away until he reached another table where a young woman with short blond hair sat with her back to us. I shot Dean a look, and he shrugged at me, just as confused as I was. I turned back to Sam just in time to see him put his hand on her shoulder, and as she turned around, I saw him step back in surprise.
She smiled at him and got up to give him a hug, and they talked for a little bit before Dean got impatient and walked up to them. I hissed at him to wait a second, but he ignored me. I groaned and followed him, catching up to him a second later.
"You're from Chicago?" I heard Sam asked, and the girl shook her head and smiled at him.
"No, Massachusetts- Andover. Gosh, Sam, what are the odds we'd run into each other?" she gushed, and Sam shook his head in disbelief.
"Yeah, I know- I thought I'd never see you again," Sam said in bewilderment, and I elbowed Dean. He looked down at me and shrugged, clearing his throat a little louder than what was necessary.
"Dude, cover your mouth," the girl said pointedly, and Sam suddenly realized that we were standing behind him.
"Yeah, um, I'm sorry, Meg. This, uh- this is my brother Dean," Dean nodded, and Sam gestured at me. "... and this is Ella."
"This is Dean?" Meg asked, looking surprised. Dean smiled at her, and she half-heartedly returned it before looking over at me, her face softening. "And Ella?" I waved shyly at her, and she smiled at me as Sam nodded.
"So you've heard of us?" Dean asked, and Meg turned to him with a displeased look on her face.
"Oh, yeah. I've heard of you. Nice- the way you treat your brother like luggage," she snapped, and turned to me, smiling apologetically. "Sam spoke very highly of you, you know."
"Sorry?" Dean asked, confused. I was too surprised to say anything, and glanced at Sam to see that he had a small smile on his face.
"Why don't you let him do what he wants to do? Stop dragging him over God's green earth," Meg said sharply to Dean, and I saw Sam frown at her.
"Meg, it's all right," he said gently, and Dean whistled under his breath.
"Oookay, awkward. I'm gonna get a drink now," he said, giving me a pointed look before walking away with a puzzled look on his face. I looked back at Meg and smiled nervously, and she motioned for me to move closer.
"Come here- I promise I won't bite," she said gently, and I slowly moved closer to her. She smiled at me and reached out to pull me into a quick hug. I was surprised, but returned the hug before pulling away and turning to look at Sam in confusion. He smiled sheepishly at me and turned back to Meg, who smiled coyly at him.
"Well, we should hook up while you're in town," she said, and I took that as my cue to exit the conversation. I walked over to Dean, who was sitting at the table grumpily with a fresh drink in his hand. He looked up angrily as I approached, but as soon as he saw that it was just me, his face softened, and he managed a small smile.
"Well, that was weird," I commented, sitting down in the seat across from him. He scoffed in return and took a long drink from his glass before setting it down.
"Yeah, you think?" he said, and looked up at something behind me just as I felt a large hand being placed on my shoulder.
"You ready?" Sam asked from behind me, and I nodded, grabbing my jacket and bag from under my chair. I followed him out the door with Dean by my side, who said nothing for a few minutes before looking at Sam's back and speaking sharply.
"Who the hell was she?"
"I don't really know- I only met her once," Sam said, shaking his head in confusion before continuing. "Meeting up with her again? I don't know, man- it's weird."
"And what was she saying? That I treat you like luggage?" Dean snapped, and I reached out to grab his arm to try to get his attention. "What, were you bitchin' about me to some chick? And what the hell was up with her and Ella?" he asked, ignoring me.
"Dean, come on…" I pleaded, and Sam turned around to look at him apologetically.
"Look, I'm sorry, Dean," he started, but Dean just glared at him. "It was when we had that huge fight when I was at that bus stop in Indiana… But that's not important, just listen-"
"Well, is there any truth to what she's saying?" Dean interrupted, and I tugged on his arm, which he again ignored. "I mean, am I keeping you against your will?"
"Guys, come on-" I began, but Sam cut me off.
"No, of course not. Now, would you listen?" he pleaded, and I was debating whether or not to smack Dean when he sighed and relaxed a bit.
"What?" he asked, and Sam shook his head at him.
"I think there's somethin' strange going on here, Dean," Sam said thoughtfully, and Dean scoffed.
"Yeah, tell me about it- she wasn't even that into me."
At that point, I did smack him, and he looked down at me with a confused expression on his face.
"Dude, seriously?" I asked in exasperation, and he shrugged as Sam shook his head.
"No, man, I mean like our kind of strange. Like maybe even a lead," Sam explained patiently, and Dean looked at him in confusion.
"Why do you say that?"
"I met Meg weeks ago, literally on the side of the road. And now, I run into her in some random Chicago bar? The same bar where a waitress was slaughtered by something supernatural? You don't think that's a little weird?" Sam questioned him, and Dean shrugged.
"I don't know, random coincidence. It happens."
"Yeah, sure. If this is a coincidence, then I'm a prima ballerina," I said sarcastically, and Sam choked down a laugh.
"Look, I could be wrong. I'm just sayin' that there's something about this girl that I can't quite put my finger on…"' Sam trailed off, and Dean smirked at him.
"Well, I bet you'd like to. I mean, maybe she's not a suspect- maybe you've got a thing for her, huh?" Dean said teasingly, and Sam rolled his eyes and laughed as I groaned loudly. "Maybe you're thinkin' a little too much with your upstairs brain, huh?" he continued, and I reached out and smacked him.
"And maybe you're not thinking enough with yours!" I chided, and Sam laughed again. "Get your mind out of the gutter, will ya?" Dean cleared his throat and smiled sheepishly at me, and I rolled my eyes at him before turning back to Sam as he spoke up.
"Do me a favor- you two check up and see if there's really a Meg Masters from Andover, Massachusetts, and see if you can't dig anything up on that symbol on Meredith's floor."
"What are you gonna do?" I asked, and Sam nodded thoughtfully.
"I'm gonna watch Meg," he replied, and Dean was about to make another comment when I shut him up by kicking the side of his leg. He glared down at me, and I gave him the death glare until he shrugged and turned back to Sam.
"All right, see ya later," he said, and turned to cross the street. I gave Sam a quick hug before darting after Dean, dodging a rather irate bicyclist who called me something I would rather not repeat. Dean turned to glare at him and grabbed my hand, pulling me along the sidewalk.
"Dean, I'm not five anymore- you don't have to hold my hand when we cross the street," I pointed out, and he shook his head at me.
"Shut up and walk," he said jokingly, keeping a tight grip on my hand. I sighed and gave up, and we walked the rest of the way to the hotel, pointing out funny bumper stickers on passing cars.
We finally reached the motel, and Dean borrowed Sam's computer to check out Meg while I did some research on the weird symbol on my laptop. I didn't have much luck until I decided to call Caleb, an old friend of John's. He explained what it was to me, and I thanked him and hung up to relay the information to Dean. He nodded, and grabbed his cell phone to call Sam, putting him on speaker.
"Hey," Sam answered, and I hopped off the bed I had been sitting on and walked over to the table where Dean sat.
"Let me guess- you're lurkin' outside that poor girl's apartment, aren't you?" Dean said, and Sam scoffed.
"No." Dean looked up at me and grinned, but said nothing. "Yes," Sam finally admitted, and Dean smirked.
"You've got a funny way of showin' your affection," he teased, and yelped when I smacked him on the back of the head and grabbed the phone, sliding it closer to me.
"What was that?" Sam asked from the other end, and I shot Dean a glare and shook my head before I answered.
"Nothing," I said innocently, and Sam laughed.
"Hi, Ella. Find anything on Meg?"
"Sorry, man, she checks out," Dean chimed in, leaning closer to the phone so Sam could hear him. "There's a Meg Masters in the Andover phonebook- I even pulled up her high school photo. Now, look, why don't you go knock on her door and, uh… invite her to a poetry reading, or whatever it is you do," he suggested, and I rolled my eyes at him.
"What about the symbol? Any luck?" Sam asked, ignoring Dean's comment.
"Yeah, actually. Listen to this- turns out it's Zoroastrian," I said, and Dean nodded. "Very, very ancient- like two thousand years before Christ."
"It's a sigil for a Daeva," Dean chimed in, and there was a pause from the other end.
"What's a Daeva?" Sam asked, and I grabbed my laptop from the bed to look at the notes from what Caleb had told me.
"It translates to "demon of darkness". Zoroastrian demons are savage, animalistic… Kind of like demonic piranhas," I replied, and heard Sam chuckle over the phone.
"Nice work, El."
"Hey, don't thank me- I had no clue what the symbol was until I gave Caleb a call," I admitted, and Dean nodded in agreement.
"Anyway, here's the thing- these Daevas, they have to be summoned, conjured," Dean explained, and I scrolled through my notes.
"Yeah, and it's not easy- these things aren't exactly polite houseguests," I added, and I could hear Sam sigh.
"So what do they look like?" he asked, and I shook my head.
"Beats me. Nobody's seen 'em for a couple millennia," I replied, and Dean nodded. "I mean, summoning something that ancient? You gotta know what the hell you're doing."
"Now, why don't you go give that girl a private strip-o-gram," Dean smirked, and I shot him a look.
"Bite me," Sam replied from the other end, and I laughed.
"No, bite her!" Dean said over my laughter, and I dove for the phone. "Don't leave teeth marks, though!" he yelled as I took the phone off speaker and brought it up to my ear, just in time to hear a click from the other end.
"Sam?" I asked, and when I heard no response, I hung up and tossed the phone to Dean. "Nice work, jackass."
Dean smirked at me, and I laid back down on the bed to take a quick nap. I woke up a little while later when the door slammed, and sat up to see Sam enter the room.
"Dude, I gotta talk to you!" he and Dean said at the same time, and I laughed at them. Sam turned to look at me, and I saw the stricken expression on his face.
"Sammy? What's wrong?" I asked quickly, sliding off the bed and walking over to him.
"Ella, it's Meg. She's the one controlling that Daeva."
"Well, shit," I managed to choke out after a long, tense pause. "And you know this how?"
Sam quickly filled us in, and Dean let out a long, low whistle.
"So, Sammy's got a thing or the bad girl," he quipped, and Sam and I rolled our eyes at him as he chuckled.
"You said you saw her with some weird bowl?" I asked thoughtfully, and Sam turned to me, his brows a dark line under his hair.
"Yeah. She was talking into it- the way witches used to scry into crystal balls and animal entrails," he answered, shaking his head before continuing. "She was communicating with someone."
"With who, the Daeva?" Dean piped up, and Sam shook his head again, frowning.
"No, Ella said those things were savages. This was someone different- someone who's giving her orders. Someone who's comin' to that warehouse," he said ominously, and Dean looked over at the files we had strewn across the table, his face serious and thoughtful. He sat down and leafed through them before stopping and snapping his head up to look at us, a shocked expression on his face.
"Holy crap."
"What?" I questioned, and he shook his head and let out a sharp exhale as I walked over to him. He looked up at me and handed me a file, and I started leafing through it.
"What I was gonna tell you earlier- I pulled a favor with my..." he paused, clearing his throat, and I rolled my eyes at him as he continued. "...friend, Amy, over at the police department. The complete records of the two victims- we missed something the first time."
"What?" Sam asked, and came over to look at the records. I shook my head in disbelief and looked up at him, frowning.
"The first victim- that old man? He wasn't born here in Chicago. He was born in Lawrence, Kansas."
Sam's eyes got wide as he leaned over to look at the page, and Dean nodded in agreement as he slipped open the other file he had picked out of the stack.
"Meredith, second victim- turns out she was adopted. And guess where she's from?"
"Holy crap," Sam murmured, sitting down in the chair across the table from Dean.
"You got that right," I sighed, and started to pace around the room.
"I mean, it is where the demon killed Mom- that's where everything started," Sam added, looking over at me. I reached up to gather my hair into a ponytail, and rubbed the back of my neck in frustration. I was about to say something when Sam started to talk, and I stopped to listen to him.
"So, you think Meg's tied up with this demon?"
"I think it's a definite possibility," Dean replied, and I nodded in agreement.
"What I don't get is how this whole Daeva thing ties into Lawrence," I wondered, and Dean paused for a moment before shaking his head.
"I don't know, kid," he said soberly. Then he scoffed and leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on the table and crossing his arms. "But I say we trash that black altar, grab Meg, and have ourselves a friendly little interrogation," he continued, his eyes flickering with anger as he set his jaw.
"No, we can't," Sam chided, and Dean turned to look at him in surprise. "We shouldn't tip her off."
"Sam's got a point, Dean. We've gotta stake out the warehouse and see what we're dealing with before we go in with guns a-blazin'," I chimed in, moving to rest my hand on the back of Sam's chair. Dean sighed quietly and nodded in defeat before looking back up at us, his forehead creasing before he spoke.
"I'll tell you one thing- I don't think we should do this alone."
"I think you're right, Dean," I said softly, and Sam nodded in agreement before getting up and turning to face me. I nodded at him, and couldn't hide the grin on my face.
"Let's go arm up," I said, and headed out the door to pack our bags. Sam followed me with the keys and opened the trunk, and we dove in, grabbing everything we could think of. We filled up two bags with as much stuff as we could fit, and turned back to the trunk to grab our weapons. I shoved one knife into the holster I had sewn into the lining of my favorite military boots and slid another one into a wrist sheath, which I strapped to my left arm and hid under my jacket sleeve. I pulled my hair back into a bun and secured it with two hair bands to keep it out of the way, and turned back to Sam, who was looking at me with a strange expression on his face.
"What?" I asked, and he shook his head and grinned.
"Nothing. Just remind me not to get on your bad side."
I laughed, and reached down to grab one of the bags. Sam grabbed the other one and slung it onto his shoulder, and we entered the room just as Dean hung up the phone, sighing.
"Voicemail?" I guessed, and dropped the bag on the bed.
"Yeah," he said, then laughed and gestured to the bags. "Jesus, what did you two get?"
"Pretty much everything," I admitted, and Sam chuckled lightly.
"Holy water, every weapon we could think of, exorcism rituals from about a half dozen religions… I'm not sure what to expect, so I guess we should just expect everything," he declared, and Dean nodded in agreement and grabbed a shotgun from the bag to load it. Sam did the same with a smaller gun, and once Dean was finished, he handed me the gun and pulled out another gun about the same size as Sam's.
"Big night," he commented, and Sam and I nodded.
"You nervous?" Sam asked Dean, who shook his head.
"No. Why, are you?"
"No. No way," Sam replied, and I rolled my eyes at their thinly-veiled deception as they both turned to me.
"How about you, kid?" Dean asked, and gave me a lopsided grin.
"A little bit," I admitted, and Sam smiled at me reassuringly.
"We won't let anything happen to you, El," he said gently, and I smiled back at him.
"Yeah, I know."
We were all silent for a few seconds until Sam shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching.
"God, could you imagine if we actually found that damn thing? That demon?"
"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, all right?" Dean chided, and Sam sighed.
"I know. I'm just sayin', what if we did?" he continued, and looked at us hopefully. "What if this whole thing was over tonight? Man, I'd sleep for a month. Go back to school, be a person again…" he trailed off, lost in his own imagination. I glanced over at Dean and saw his brows furrowing as he straightened up and put his gun down on the bed.
"You wanna go back to school?" he asked incredulously, and I winced, knowing that this conversation was not going to end well. I shot Sam a look, warning him to stop, but he was too lost in thought to notice.
"Yeah, once we're done huntin' the thing," he continued, and I could see the tension begin to build in Dean's arms.
"Huh," he said simply, and turned away from Sam and set his jaw. I looked back at Sam, who had a confused expression on his face.
"Why, is there somethin' wrong with that?" he questioned, and I shot him another look, begging him to let it go.
"No," Dean replied, but I could tell that he was lying. "No, it's uh… great. Good for you," he said tersely, and I started to move closer to him, but Sam spoke up, stopping me in my tracks.
"El, what are you gonna do when it's all over?"
I froze and shot Dean a panicked look, and he straightened up and turned to face me, waiting for my answer.
"I don't know, Sam," I said softly, and he turned to look at Dean, oblivious to the pleading look I was giving him.
"What about you, Dean?"
"It's never gonna be over," Dean grumbled, anger flashing in his eyes as he strapped a knife to his forearm. "There's gonna be others. There's always gonna be somethin' to hunt."
"But there's got to be somethin' that you want for yourself-" Sam started, but was quickly interrupted.
"Yeah, I don't want you to leave the second this thing's over, Sam," Dean snapped, and walked over to the dresser, balling his hand into a fist. I shot Sam the death glare and followed Dean, reaching out to lightly touch his upper arm. He glanced over at me and tried to smile reassuringly, but it came out looking more like a grimace.
"Dude, what's your problem?" Sam asked pointedly, and Dean clenched his jaw in frustration.
"Why do you think I drag you everywhere?" he said slowly, and turned to look at Sam, gritting his teeth. "Huh? I mean, why do you think we came and got you at Stanford in the first place?" he continued, his voice getting louder. I stepped back from him, my hands beginning to shake slightly as Sam responded.
"'Cause Dad was in trouble. 'Cause you wanted to find the thing that killed Mom."
"Yes, that, but it's more than that, man," Dean said sadly before silently turning back to the dresser. I reached out to touch his arm again, and he looked up at me, his face softening when he noticed how badly my hands were shaking. He smiled at me reassuringly and turned back to Sam, all traces of anger wiped from his face.
"You and me and Ella and Dad- I mean, I want us…" he trailed off, and reached out to put his arm around my shoulder, pulling me to his side. "I want us to be together again. I want us to be a family again."
"Dean, we are a family," Sam sighed, and smiled softly at me. "I'd do anything for you and Ella. But things will never be the way they were before," he continued apologetically, and my heart sunk in my chest.
"Could be," Dean said hopefully, but Sam shook his head.
"I don't want them to be," he said softly, and I could feel my eyes filling up with tears. "I'm not gonna live this life forever. Dean, when this is all over… you and Ella are gonna have to let me go my own way."
I buried my face into Dean's shoulder, fighting back tears, and he wrapped his other arm around me and pulled me close to his chest. I slipped my arms around his waist, and he rested his chin on the top of my head. After a minute, I heard the door close, and I looked up to see that Sam had left the room. Dean sighed and pulled away so he could look me in the eyes, and smiled softly.
"It's gonna be fine, kid. You'll always have me."
I nodded and wiped my eyes, taking a deep breath and pulling myself together.
"You ready, kid?" Dean asked, and I grinned up at him.
"Let's do this thing."