"I don't know, Dean," she repeated again. Her eyes only looked to the window. She avoided all eye contact with the boys, fearing what she might see in their eyes.
"It has to mean something. At least try to remember," Dean insisted. He leaned forwards on his chair, elbows resting on his knees. His hands were clasped together tightly as he tried to make Seventeen at least remember something. A tidbit of information, even the slightest piece, could knock all the dominoes down and fit everything in place.
"For the last time, Dean, I don't remember!" Seventeen finally cried out. The volume of her voice tore Sam's attention away from his laptop, leaving both the boys to stare at Seventeen. Her eyes had finally left the window, only to glare into that of Dean's.
"Seventeen, we didn't mean to make you uncomfortable," Sam said calmly. He pushed the laptop to the side, consequently all the research about the meanings of circles. Nothing. He's found absolutely nothing, and it was starting to unnerve Sam how much of an enigma this girl was. But for now he had to keep his concerns to himself.
With a few shuddering breaths, she insisted, "No. No, it's fine. I'm just... freaked about the whole thing, that's all. I didn't mean to go off like that." Her bottom lip trembled. She pressed her lips together, blinking rapidly. Her mind was set on one mission. She would find whoever branded her, and she would quite possibly kill them with her bare hands.
Savage thoughts of the blood and insides she could rip out of their body infiltrated her mind, and it temporarily lulled her. It was only when Dean grabbed her bicep did she come out of her reverie. Her stomach clenched.
"You okay?" Dean questioned, his hold steady on her bicep. No more tears blurred her vision. A slow nod shook her head. Her tongue swiped over her lips. They were chapped. She felt thirsty. When was the last time she had water?
"Can I have a drink?" Seventeen slowly asked. Sam nodded, getting up from his chair to grab a water bottle. With thirst burning her throat, she downed half the water bottle within a couple minutes.
It only took a few more minutes to finish the rest off. The water soothed her throat, and she almost asked for another one. Dean whistled at how quickly she drank the water, while Sam's eyebrows raised.
"I don't think I've seen Dean drink a beer that fast," Sam laughed. He grabbed his laptop again, pulling up all the research he's found so far about the markings on her body. The older Winchester denied what Sam had said, insisting that he could drink a pint of beer in a minute flat. Seventeen laughed along. Thoughts of what she could do to whoever branded her slowly vanished. Right until the moment she stopped laughing.
She quickly sobered, her mouth upturned in a smile that was struggling to stay on. How the hell was she supposed to laugh? It wasn't like she was in a happy situation. Why was she laughing when she could be hunting the person who did this to her. Who's to say multiple people didn't do this to her? Dean frowned as he saw her smile waver. Whatever thoughts she'd earlier been consumed in had once again gotten hold of her. Leaning his head back, he groaned.
Sam glared at him over the top of his laptop, making Dean roll his eyes. "Did you find anything?" Seventeen asked, getting up from her seat to look at the screen of Sam's laptop.
He sighed, saying, "No. There's nothing that's significant about the number seventeen, or a circle. I don't know." She bit her lip, gently taking the laptop from him into her lap. Her fingers were nimble as they danced along the keys.
"Maybe that's the point," Seventeen thought out loud. Both the boys' eyebrows furrowed as her words registered. "If I were organizing some top secret thing that would brand a person, I wouldn't make it obvious. If you use something that seems like it has absolutely no purpose, it makes it ten times harder to figure out what it is."
Dean nodded, walking over to the refrigerator to grab a beer. "That still doesn't explain why I found you in that parking lot. Say this was some big secret thing that was willing to go through all this trouble. Why'd they dump you there?"
"Whatever you believe, Dean Winchester, I don't have all the answers," Seventeen rolled her eyes. "There's going to be more than that. Those are just educated guesses. I don't know the depth of the situation I was obviously in, only that-"
She stopped suddenly, her mouth snapping shut. Of course she had to think out loud. This would lead them to interrogate her about what she was going to say. She had kept this bit of information from them for a reason.
"What? Seventeen, I swear to God if you keep this from us-" Dean swore, swiftly being cut off by Sam who glared at his older brother.
"Nothing," Sam said. "He'll do nothing. We just want to know what you were going to say. Whatever it is may lead us to find more clues about who you are so you can be with your family. Seventeen, all we want to do is help."
A sharp pain ran through her brain as Sam spoke. All we want to do is help. All we want to do is help. All we want to do is help. All we want to do is-
"Why the hell do you want to help me anyway? How do you know how to do all of this? I've seen the guns you guys carry on you. Are you some kind of criminal team? If you do one good deed, you'll feel better about all the crimes you commit? Is that it?" Seventeen pressed, turning the table on the boys. "Am I some pity case? Because I can sure as hell leave right now."
"There's no need for that," Dean negotiated. "We found you, and now we want to help. That's all there is to it. Whatever else doesn't matter."
"Yeah, right," Seventeen scoffed. "There's no way I'm taking help from possible criminals. You guys have secrets. It's so blatant in your eyes. And I know you guys have been lying to me. Partially, at least. I don't know how much of what you've told me is truth and how much is a lie. But I'm sure about one thing. I don't have an ounce of trust in you."
"You're gonna have to trust us if you want help from us," Sam said. Dean nodded in agreement. Seventeen's back stiffened.
"No, I don't. You can help me, and I could try to help you. Then, when this is over, we walk away. I conveniently forget about your existence, and you forget about mine. No need for keeping in contact," Seventeen said with finality in her voice.
"How are we supposed to get anything done if we don't trust each other?" Dean asked, green eyes narrow. "I'll constantly have to look over my shoulder to make sure you aren't gonna do anything to us. This won't work if we don't trust each other."
"Yes, it will. Because I'll be looking over my shoulder, too."
Seventeen got up from her chair, grabbing the doorknob to their motel room. Both the Winchester boys stood up from their chairs to stop Seventeen. Sam grabbed her shoulder, and she shrugged him off.
"Where are you going?" Dean called. Anger was edging in on his voice. It had turned gruff and gravelly.
"I remember one thing. Fresh air clears your mind. So I'm going for some fresh air," Seventeen decided. She slipped out the door before Sam could catch her. They let her go, resigning to dealing with her later.
The moment she got outside, she let out a breath. They had completely forgotten about what they had earlier been asking her about, how she had cut herself off mid-sentence. All it took was a talk about trust.
They didn't need to know about what Seventeen had found.