Chapter Seven
Amie was leaning against her car trying to plot the best route to Butler, Pennsylvania when Sam sauntered up.
"So, you're going with us?" Sam tried to ask nonchalantly. Amie turned to face him. "Yeah, I am. But I think you knew he'd convince me, didn't you?"
Sam shrugged. "I suspected." He leaned against the Mini Cooper, his height making it look like one of those toy Barbie cars little kids had. "You know he likes you, right?"
Amie laughed. "Well, I was pretty sure he did and now I know he does," she said. Her sarcasm was intentional.
Sam smiled. "No, I mean, he likes likes you."
Amie laughed again. "Seriously, Sam, what is this? High school?" Sam just looked at her. Amie stopped laughing, realizing Sam was trying to be serious. She did know what Sam meant. She also knew she was unlikely to hear Dean say the actual words, the real words. "Okay, say you're right. You know as well as I do that he'll never tell me. I have to take what I can get. So, I'm going to stick around and see what happens. And if it goes south, well, then I will too."
Sam shook his head. "You're taking on a lot. Dean's baggage, it's extensive. He's a Winchester. It's the Winchester way. It's how we are built. Are you sure you're ready for that?"
Amie placed herself in front of Sam. "I know there's baggage. And I guess only time will tell if I'm capable of dealing with it or not. I know what I'm getting into, trust me. But for now, I'm going to see how it goes. Are you okay with that?" Amie realized she really wanted Sam's approval. "Are you?"
Sam nodded, just as the Amie's motel room door slammed shut. Amie turned and watched Dean stroll towards her, shrugging into his jacket. Once he was standing in front of her, he moved in until they were nose to nose and slipped his hand into her inside jacket pocket. "Thought you might want that." Amie reached into her pocket and felt her gun. Shit, she hadn't even noticed it was gone. Five minutes and Dean was already distracting her enough that she had lost her gun. She better get her act together or they would both end up dead.
"Sorry," she mumbled.
He just shrugged. "Hey Sam, did you find a motel in Butler?" Sam nodded. "Good, will you send the information to Amie?" Amie watched Sam toss the Impala's keys to Dean. "I already did. Texted it a couple of minutes ago when she said she was going with us. Can we go already? If we leave we might make it to Butler by 6 or 7 tonight." Sam climbed in the passenger seat of the Impala.
Dean turned back to Amie, his eyes imploring. "What, Dean?" she asked.
"I suppose you're not going to follow me, are you?" Dean grabbed her cold hands, rubbing them between his very warm ones.
Amie sighed. She should have known this question was coming. It always did. But maybe Dean had thought that things would be different after his declaration and their decision to see where they could take their relationship. She rolled her eyes. "What do you think?"
Dean chuckled. "I think you're going to tell me that you'll be fine, I need to stop worrying, blah, blah, blah. You're not gonna cut and run, right? Because that's what I really care about."
Amie stood on her tip-toes and kissed him on the mouth. "No, I promise. I'll see you in Butler."
He grabbed her by the upper arms, pulled her close and kissed her hard. "You better."
The rain had started about an hour ago. And it was pouring. The swishing of the wipers on the Mini Cooper was starting to grate on Amie's nerves, but the rain was so bad, she had to have them going at full force. She'd plugged her iPod in, but she couldn't hear it. She was moving at a crawl, doing maybe 40-45 miles per hour. Her phone vibrated for the sixth or seventh time in the cup holder, but she wasn't about to look at it in this weather. She was sure it was Dean, again. She had thought she'd be in Butler by this time, but this had become a day straight from hell. First, she'd hit a horrific traffic jam just outside of Cleveland. One that apparently Dean had managed to get around. Then, right after she got on the I-80, she'd gotten a flat tire. Fortunately, she was close to some rinky-dink town and the service station there was able to tow her in. Unfortunately, since she drove a "crappy European import" it took a while to find a new tire. Three hours later she was back on the road, but she was running seriously behind schedule. While Dean knew about the tire-she'd called him while she waited for a new one-he didn't know about the weather and he was probably freaking out. Amie knew she couldn't take a chance calling him while driving in this weather. And there was literally no place to pull off of the road.
Just then, she passed a sign for New Castle, Pennsylvania. She decided she would pull off there and call Dean. She was only 40 miles outside of Butler, but in this weather, it was liable to take her another hour or so to get there. If she didn't call him, he'd probably come looking for her.
Two miles later, she put on her blinker and pulled off the freeway, spotting a Gas-n-Go up ahead. She maneuvered her tiny car into the parking lot, automatically taking note of the cars parked there—an old Dodge pick-up truck and a Toyota Camry. She tried to see in the windows of the convenience store, but the rain was making it difficult. She took her phone out of the cup holder, but she wasn't getting a signal. Amie hadn't wanted to get out of the car, but she really needed to call Dean. Maybe they had a payphone or a land line she could use. She grabbed her jacket from the passenger seat and slid it on. She pulled her gun from the jacket pocket and checked it, making sure the magazine was full. She flicked the safety off and put it back in her pocket. She reached down, checking her boot for the knife she kept tucked there. Dean had insisted on giving her Ruby's knife on the last trip she'd made alone, and she'd forgotten to give it back, so it had temporarily replaced her old one. Finally, she grabbed some cash from the glove box, along with a ponytail holder. She quickly pulled her hair back, tucked her cell phone and money in her back pocket and opened the car door, then she ran for the front door of the Gas-n-Go.
As she pushed open the door of the store, her eyes darted around, taking in as much as she could. There was a young kid, probably 18 or 19, behind the counter. A petite blonde was looking through the magazine rack and an overweight farmer in bib overalls was standing in front of the beer cooler. Amie didn't see anyone else. She glanced around, hoping to see a payphone, but there wasn't one. So she turned to the counter, intent on convincing the kid back there to let her make a phone call. She unzipped her jacket as she walked, glancing in the mirrors over the register. She thought she saw the blonde inch closer to the front of the store, but she could have been wrong.
"Excuse me?" she asked the clerk. "Do you have a phone I could use? My cell doesn't seem to be working." The clerk shook his head, his eyes darting first to Blondie and then to Farmer Bibs. Amie didn't like the look on his face. It immediately set her on edge. She eased her hand into her jacket pocket and gripped her gun. "No phone? Really?"
The clerk's eyes widened and she swung around just as Blondie threw a punch at her head. Amie managed to duck and roll toward her, taking the blonde's feet out from under her. Amie shot to her feet, just in time to see Farmer Bibs headed right for her.
"Stupid hunter bitch," he screamed, his eyes flashing demon black.
She broke into a run, darting around the corner of a Hostess display, knocking it to the ground to hopefully slow down the demon's pursuit. She turned and fired her gun, connecting with Farmer Bibs' shoulder at least twice. Amie knew it wouldn't do any good—after all, it wasn't the Colt- but it might slow him down. She slid around another corner, running head on for what looked like an office door. She needed to get the knife out of her boot and fast. She flew through the door, slamming it shut behind her and locking it. Her eyes darted around the room, looking for something, anything to block the door. The door reverberated with a huge thud. Amie pushed the heavy oak desk in front of the door, adrenaline giving her an extra boost of strength. That would only give her a couple extra minutes, but she'd take what she could get.
She backed to the wall, her hand fumbling the knife from her boot. She pulled her cell from her pocket, praying that she had service. One bar. Hopefully it was enough. She quickly pulled up her contacts and scrolled to Dean's name. She pressed and held the button to automatically call him as another thud sounded against the door.
"Son of a bitch, Amie, I've been calling and texting for over an hour! Where the fuck are you?" Dean's voice was frantic.
"Dean, shut up and listen to me. I'm in a Gas-n-Go off the freeway outside New Castle. There are at least two demons here, maybe more." Amie stopped to catch her breath.
"Do you still have the knife? Ruby's knife?" Dean's voice was less frantic, more businesslike.
"Yeah, I do," Amie managed to stammer as another thud splintered some of the wood on the door. She tried to push herself closer to the wall, to no avail.
"Alright, hang tight. We were out looking for you, so we should be there in less than…." Dean's voice cut off. Service lost. Shit. Amie shoved her phone back into her pocket. She reviewed her options. She could continue to cringe against the wall, which was just delaying the inevitable, or she could start slashing with the knife. Option two seemed her best bet. Another piece of the door broke loose, wood flying everywhere. Amie scrambled forward and climbed onto the desk, staying away from the holes in the door. When an arm came through the door, feeling for the lock, she slashed it with the knife. She heard a hiss and the arm disappeared.
Suddenly, Amie felt herself fly through the air and hit the wall. She couldn't move. As she watched helplessly, the two demons, Blondie and Farmer Bibs, pushed through the door. Blondie walked forward, black eyes searching the room. She stopped in front of Amie. "Well, now this is interesting. You're that female hunter that hangs out with the Winchesters, right?" Amie refused to answer. "It's alright sweetie, I know who you are. So that phone call you just made was probably to them. Which means they are rushing to get here to come to your rescue. I think you just became my ticket to the Queen's good graces." The blonde demon moved closer to Amie. "I'll just jump in your sweet little meat suit and hitch a ride home with the Winchesters. Once I know where they hole up, all I have to do is let the Queen know and I'm good. Open up, gorgeous."
Amie couldn't help but smile at the demon holding her against the wall. "Go ahead and try, you black-eyed bitch."
The demon's smile faltered when she realized she couldn't possess Amie. She moved forward and punched Amie in the face, re-opening the cut on her lower lip and bloodying her nose. The demon screamed in frustration, causing glass to break all around the room, her hold on Amie suddenly releasing, sending her crashing to the floor. She felt a kick to her torso that pushed her across the room, slamming her into the desk, her head cracking on the hard oak wood. She tried to take a deep breath and push herself into a standing position, but her body wouldn't cooperate.
Just then, a shot rang out. The blonde demon jerked forward, blood pouring from a hole in her head, then she was hitting the floor, Dean on top of her. Sam grabbed the knife from Amie and slid it across the floor, hitting Dean's boot. He grabbed it and stabbed the demon in the throat, killing her in a flood of orange light. Amie heard Dean scream at Sam to go get the other one while he checked on her. Sam grabbed the knife and took off down the hall. The last thing she saw before she passed out was Dean's face hovering over her. She could almost hear him saying I told you so.