Chapter Seventeen

Amie had just finished getting dressed when Sam wandered into the room. His shaggy hair was sticking up in several places and he had a crease mark on his cheek.

"Hmm," Sam grunted. "Where's Dean?"

"He went down to the basement, about 20 minutes ago. Said he knew how he was going to get Price talking, wouldn't let me go with him." Amie explained. "Do you think he's…?"

Sam cut Amie off, his face filled with worry. "Yeah, and it probably is a good idea if you stay up here. I'll go check on him." Sam hurried off before Amie could say anything else.

Amie needed to keep busy, to keep her mind off of what she guessed was happening in the basement. She folded the sheets and the sleeping bag and stacked them on the couch. She was bending over to pick up her and Dean's clothes from the floor when she heard a bloodcurdling scream come from the basement, followed by Dean's demanding voice. She flinched, knowing what Dean was forcing himself to do in order to get answers. She was actually glad that she wasn't helping the boys, because she didn't think she could handle seeing that duplicity in Dean, the duplicity that she knew had to exist in order for him to do the things he was doing. The things he hated doing.

Amie wandered around, finding mindless tasks to keep her hands busy. She picked up and folded Sam's blankets, she took the bloody rags she'd used on Dean's hands outside and rinsed them off with a hose she had found in the backyard. Once she ran out of things to fold or clean, she sat on the steps of the decrepit back porch, watching the sun rise as she waited.

She didn't know how much time had passed before Dean came and sat behind her. He put his legs on either side of hers and rested his arms on her legs, his chin on her shoulder.

"Hey," he said quietly.

"Hi," Amie replied. "You okay?" She took his hands in hers, running her fingers over the bruised knuckles.

Dean shook his head, not speaking. He turned his face into her hair and Amie heard him inhale deeply, his entire body shuddering. They sat quietly like that for several minutes. Amie knew if she was patient, Dean would talk.

"I feel like a monster," he finally said, his voice trembling slightly. "I hate it, all of it. The torture, causing pain, I don't enjoy it. No matter what anyone says." Dean's voice caught.

Amie wanted to turn to him, comfort him, but she knew if she moved, the moment would be over. So she waited.

"That's not the person I want to be. But I'm starting to think it's the person I am, the real me. I hate that Dean. He's uncaring and cruel. He's a bad person." Dean kissed her shoulder. "But when I'm with you, I can believe that I'm good. That I'm not completely worthless. That Dean, the bad one, doesn't exist with you. And if someone like you is willing to be with me, I must not be all of those awful things, right?"

Amie nodded, tears in her eyes.

Dean had turned his face into her hair again. His nose brushed against her neck and she could feel the scratch of the stubble on his chin as he spoke. "I need you, Amie. I can't lose you. Stay with me," Dean whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Amie couldn't speak, because she was struggling not to cry. So she nodded, her grip tightening on his hands. She brought his hands to her lips, covering the cuts and bruises with gentle kisses.

"Thank you," Dean whispered, resting his forehead on her shoulder.

Amie didn't know how long Sam had been standing behind them when he cleared his throat.

"Dean? We need to take care of the body before we go," Sam said quietly.

Dean sighed, kissed Amie's neck and stood up. "Okay," he said, helping Amie to her feet. "Will you load everything in Baby so we can go when we're done?" He dug the car keys from his pocket and handed them to her.

"Sure," she replied, taking the keys. "Where are we going?"

"Carthage, Missouri," Sam replied. "There's a chance Abbadon is there. That was the last place Price met with her, a couple of weeks ago. If she's not there, she was at some point, so maybe we can figure out where she went. And there may be other demons there as well."

Amie followed the boys through the house to the basement door. Sam pulled the door open and he and Dean went down the stairs. Amie moved through the house, picking things up as she went and putting them by the door. At one point the boys passed her, carrying the demon's body to a side yard where they were going to burn it. Once everything was by the door, she started moving it to the Impala, which was backed up right to the front door. At the same time she finished, she saw smoke drifting over the top of the house and the boys coming around the side. Amie threw the keys to Dean. They left in a cloud of dust and smoke.

Carthage appeared to be a bust. Despite getting an actual address from Price, Amie and the boys hadn't found anything. The warehouse at the address looked like no one had been near it in a decade and there was no sign of Abbadon anywhere. Dean and Sam had decided to do a thorough check on the building at the police station. Then, once it was dark, they planned on going to the warehouse and checking it inside and out. They had left Amie at the motel, doing research.

Amie slammed her laptop closed, frustration making her shut it a bit harder than necessary. She felt useless, sitting in the motel perusing websites that offered her no information. She hadn't found a damn thing. She checked the time on her phone. The boys had been gone for hours and Dean wasn't responding to her texts. She got up and wandered the room, picking up random things and setting them back down. She turned the television on, hoping to distract herself.

Amie was pulling a beer from the motel refrigerator when she heard a strange sound, like wings fluttering, behind her. She swung around, pulling her gun from the waistband of her jeans as she did.

A petite, middle-aged woman with brown hair, wearing a black business suit was standing in the middle of the room. She stood with her arms crossed, staring at Amie.

"What the hell?" Amie sputtered. An angel, it had to be an angel. While she had never met an angel, not even Castiel, she had heard plenty about them from Dean and Sam. Basically, they were dicks.

"You must be Amie," the woman said.

Amie tried to keep her composure. "I am. But I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage. Who are you?"

"I am Katarina," the woman replied. "And before you ask, yes, I am an angel. I am looking for Castiel."

Amie lowered her weapon. "Well, I don't know where he is. Shit, I've never even met him. Sorry."

Katarina looked as if she had eaten something sour. "No, I know you do not know where he is. But Dean Winchester does. I want him to tell me," she stated.

While Katarina was talking, Amie tried to gauge the distance from herself to her open backpack. Dean had put an angel blade in it when they left the bunker, wanting her fully prepared. She didn't think she could get to the bag before being stopped by the angel.

"I'm about 100% positive Dean won't tell you where he is. But I'll give him the message," Amie quipped.

"Oh, he will tell me. Once he has incentive," the angel replied. Suddenly, she was standing in front of Amie. Amie tried to run, but Katarina grabbed her by the arm and touched her forehead. Amie felt as if her limbs were made of jelly and she couldn't keep her eyes open. Then everything went black.