The next couple days were pretty uneventful. I am still too sore to do any wrestling, so I get better with my weapons skills. I am getting really good with throwing knives and I'm even starting to get good with a gun. Even Sam seems impressed at times.
Sam is starting to be nicer to me, which surprises me. He apologizes for being such a jerk to me the first couple days, and asks for my forgiveness. I tell him that I won't forgive him until he proves to be worthy of it. He seems to think that it's a reasonable demand, so he's nicer to me.
Past all of the jerkness, I realize that Sam is actually a rather nice person. He's a bit of a nerd, which I appreciate. When Dean tells him that I wrote a ten page report about them, he's both freaked out and impressed.
"I also remember reading those books by Carver Edlund-the Supernatural series. I just thought it was a theory about why you guys were the way you were. I found it interesting that a person could turn a criminal record so dark and twisted into a heroic tale. Of course, everything made sense, so I always had a sneaking suspicion that the story was true," I explain.
"That explains why you weren't as freaked out as you should have been about the whole demon thing. You suspected that there was some truth in the books, so it wasn't a complete shock to you," Sam says.
I shrug. "Well, actually, the fact that I was right kind of freaked me out. It's just crazy. These things aren't supposed to exist," I say.
"I know, and I'm sorry you were dragged into this," Dean says. I know that he truly means it, because I have figured out by now that Dean is always sincere with everything he says. He keeps his promises. "So, the real question is do you ship Wincest?" Dean asks me.
"What kind of perverted people ship Wincest?" I ask him, completely freaked out by that question.
"Thank you. You should tell the people who ship us to go to a mental hospital," Dean says.
"I have. Most of my friends who have read the books don't ship Wincest, though. Destiel is the most popular ship," I explain. Sam starts chuckling a little, where Dean just looks completely confused. "They ship you and Castiel, Dean," I say slowly and clearly so Dean can understand.
Dean's face was hilarious. I don't know if it was embarrassment or just pure shock. "Oh, and people ship you and Gabriel, Sam," I say. Sam's face was completely priceless. "At least it isn't Wincest," I say to both of them.
After completely freaking out, Dean asks me about my nightmares. "You haven't woken me up in a while. Does that mean that the nightmares are gone?" I have to think about the answer I give him. Should I make him feel better or should I tell him the truth? Unfortunately, I think about it too long. "So I guess that means no," Dean says.
I shrug. "I've just gone from screaming to quietly sobbing. I always feel so bad when I wake you up," I say.
"You shouldn't. It's not your fault you have these nightmares. I know how it is to have them, and having someone to comfort you after you wake up makes it ten times better," Dean says. Sam looks over at him, as if he's seeing something in his brother that he hasn't before.
"Thanks," I say. I honestly don't think I'm going to wake him up, though. It was fine the first time, but I just don't feel comfortable with more than once. I feel like I would be taking advantage of the person who is currently the most important person in the world to me. Without Dean, Sam, or Castiel, I would be dead. I can't take advantage of Dean-it would just be morally wrong.
"On another note," I say, "I think that I can try wrestling again. I feel much better and almost all of my bruises are gone." It's a huge accomplishment for me-having most of my bruises gone. I am very proud of my body's healing abilities. Those bruises should have taken a lot longer to heal.
"Speaking of that, I have decided that I will be the one to train you with that," Sam says, getting up. Since when does he have the right to do that?
"What? How did you suddenly decide that?" Dean asks his brother.
"She was a giant bruise after the last time with you," Sam reasons. I suppose that he does, in fact, have a point.
"Still, you shouldn't have a say in what happens to her. You were a jerk to her and you made it very clear that you can't love her like your own flesh and blood. I've been here for her since the beginning," Dean says.
I did not know that Sam said that, and, for some reason, it feels like a stab in the gut. I feel like it really shouldn't surprise me, but it does. Dean realizes that he said something that was very hurtful to me. "I'm sorry, Skylar. I shouldn't have said that," he says.
"Honestly, I'm not surprised. I mean, it's not like I could ever amount to something that you know from the second it's born. I'm eleven, and you guys barely know me," I say, trying to reassure myself, although I end up babbling on and on. But there is something in what Dean said earlier. "But, in saying that Sam can't love me like flesh and blood, does that mean that you can?" I ask him.
"Of course I can. Family isn't built on just blood. Family is built based on people you love. And, saying that, not all blood is family. I nearly killed my grandfather after he betrayed us," Dean explained.
I think about what he says for a while. It makes complete sense. "Well, I suppose that, since I have no biological family anymore, I'll love you and Sam as if you were my dad and my uncle," I say.
"What about your real dad?" Dean asks, concerned.
"Oh, you mean the guy who was always on business trips in Japan? The guy who wasn't ever home, even for my birthday?" I ask Dean, bitterness and contempt in my voice.
Dean and Sam just kind of look at me uncomfortably. "What about your mom?" Sam asks after the silence becomes uncomfortable.
"She was usually with him. Zack and I usually were left with a nanny. Our nanny never even cared about us, though. Zack and I just really had each other," I explained.
Dean and Sam look at me like I'm some little lost puppy. But, there is something in their eyes, too. It's sympathy. "Our Dad was pretty deadbeat, too," Dean says.
"At least I had Zack," I say, shrugging.
"Yeah, without Dean, I probably would have starved to death or gotten attacked by demons or something," Sam says.
"Dean's the older brother, right?" I ask Sam.
"Yeah. We never told you that, did we?" Sam asks.
"No," I say.
"Well, how did you know?" Sam asks.
"Haven't you realized, Sammy? She can take a look at a person and know their entire life story. She's that deep," Dean says.
"Yeah, it is a little freaky how you can do that," Sam says.
I shrug. "I pay attention. Dean acts like the older brother, and you act like how I do, sorry-did, around my older brother. You act like he's the most important person in the whole world," I say.
Dean looks at his little brother, intrigued by what I have said. Then, he looks back at me. "How is that you're so deep?" he asks.
"I pay attention. A lot of people don't pay attention, so they miss a lot. You'd be surprised how much you can learn about a person if you just pay a little more attention," I say.
Sam and Dean look at me as if I just cracked the secret to the universe. "Great, Dean, we just happened to find the smartest eleven year old in existence," Sam says.
I smile. "Well, are we going to sit here all day or am I going to get better?" I ask them, getting up. I start walking over to the weapons room, and I see them following me. "I want to see if Sam is as good as his brother," I say when I get there.
"Well, I was going to go easy on you," Sam says.
"I know. I want you guys to fight. Just for fun," I say, a grin wide on my face. Sam and Dean look at each other, surprised by the request. "Dean, you owe it to me for making me a giant bruise last time. Sam, you owe it to me for being such a jerk to me," I tell them.
"Manipulative little thing," Dean murmurs to Sam. I hear him, so I just smile brightly. I do have other reasons for forcing them to do this-I want to observe. "Well, Sammy, ready to get your ass kicked?" Dean asks and walks over to the mats. Sam follows him, and they start fighting.
I observe the way that they fight, and evaluate every little movement. They're both moving so fast, and so precisely, that blinking will make me miss a lot. They use strength in a lot of their movements, which I know isn't going to help my case. I think of ways I can use their strength against them. By the end of ten minutes of fighting, I have figured out almost everything that there is to know.
Dean ends up winning; I decide it's because he has more experience than Sam, and because he's just overall, a better fighter. Sam was trying to drag it out, probably because he has more endurance than his brother. But Dean is a much better fighter-more fearsome and more willing to take risks.
"Sorry, Sam, I choose Dean to help me. I don't care if I end up a giant bruise again. Dean's a better fighter," I say, shrugging.
Sam is clearly a little bit insulted, but I don't care. I have Dean help me out, and I get better and better. I have a lot more knowledge about it after analyzing Sam and Dean fight. Even Dean notices that I'm getting better. "Wow, kid. You're a lot better," he says.
"I paid attention when you and Sam fought," I say in response, shrugging a little. Then, I attack again.
I'm not nearly as sore the next day as I was the first time. Also, I wasn't completely covered in bruises. This was proving my point-paying attention will get you much further in life than trial and error.