Dean's already made coffee. Probably his second pot this morning.
He hands me a cup, shoves me down into a seat, and tosses four ice packs down on the table.
"Strip. We're going to get you cooled down." he tells me firmly.
Cameron walks in just as my t-shirt comes off over my head.
"Good morning!" I squeak.
Suddenly, I want to put my shirt back on, to hide myself. I'm nasty. Skeletal. Yellowing.
Vanity will probably kill me before anything else does.
"Morning." She leans back on the countertop and eyes me briefly, just a quick up and down.
"Um, hi, Cameron...hi." Suddenly I just want to disappear. "Um...want coffee?"
I feel Dean's hands trembling with silent laughter as he fastens another ice pack in place. I elbow him hard enough to make him yelp.
"I'd love coffee." she nods.
Incomprehensible. Adjective. Baffling, bewildering. Obscure.
"Cas...get her some coffee. Please." I say. I push Dean away and pull my shirt back on over the ice packs.
Shivers hitch my voice. "Did you sleep okay?"
"Mmhmm." she's obviously staring at the mini igloo I've got going here, but she's silent.
Dean hands her a steaming cup of coffee. "Polite doesn't fly in this house. Just ask already."
She sips the coffee slowly before speaking. "Ask what?"
Dean shrugs. "Everything. We might be crazy, but we'll give you the information you want. Okay? You're not the enemy from what I can tell. So, ask...for instance, why is Sam dressed like a popsicle?"
She nods. "I was questioning that."
"Well question out loud." Dean prods.
"Okay, okay." She clears her throat as if she was a first grade teacher, turns on her heel, and stares straight at me. "Why do you keep using ice packs all of the time?"
"I'm...wow, Dean, thanks. You try to explain."
"His organs got fried by magic." Dean lifts the coffee cup to his lips without ceremony.
"Right. Okay…"
I try to translate what Dean just said. "I took on...angel powers. And that...fried me." Not much better of an answer at all.
"How exactly did you do that?"
"Well, we were trying to keep the world from exploding, and I was the only one around to take on the powers." I say weakly.
Her mouth parts slightly for a moment, then she seems to decide against whatever she was going to say and just nods. "So how did you even get involved with angels?"
Cas jumps on this one, eager to join the conversation.
"Dean was killed, so I gripped him tight and raised him from perdition."
"That's possible?" she sets her coffee down and stares.
"For me, yes." Castiel says. "And then these two…" he gestures magnificently in Dean and I's direction. "...began to believe in my existence. It became hard to deny it."
Dean shoves four pieces of bacon into his mouth. At once. "Yeah, that's enough, Cas. She doesn't need to hear your entire life story."
Cameron shakes her finger at me, processing as the conversation continues.
"Okay then...so another question. Why are you guys hunting down this Metatron?"
"He's the reason Sam is cooked...see," Dean begins. "If Sam had been successful, Metatron would have been dealt with. Kaput. But if he had finished the job, it would have killed Sam, and that was a no go."
"So Metatron's still out there trying to blow up the planet." Cameron concludes.
"And Sam's still fried up inside." Dean finishes.
"Why is he trying to blow up the planet?"
"He's a fallen angel trying to eliminated humankind." Cas says it so simply, he could have just announced that we were out of milk. I look for Cameron's reaction.
She sighs. "Well then. That's not very nice of him."
Now all three of us are just staring at her.
Dean raises his hand like a kid in school. "Um, please marry Sam."
I choke on my coffee.
Now she's thrown off guard.
Not when we told her that angels were real, or when one magically fixed her hands, or when we told her that the world was about to end.
"Uh, what?" Her cheeks turn a deep magenta.
"He's just impressed that you're handling this so well." I say quickly, glaring at Dean.
She quickly regains her composure. "Right...Okay." she sniffs.
I'm about to open my mouth to give a better explanation when the lights go out, leaving us sitting in a maroon-tinted darkness. The emergency light in the hall blinks lazily.
"Okay, everyone, grab a weapon. This is it. Cas, go see if you can head him off." Dean directs.
Cas vanishes. Or, I assume he does by the powerful flap of wings, the whoosh of air, and the silence.
Cameron shifts beside me, crashing into a coffee cup and knocking it to the ground.
It breaks. Loudly. Coffee splashes on my legs, and Cameron gasps.
I reach out and find her hand in the dark.
"This way." I pull her towards the armory. I squeeze her hand reassuringly. It's surprisingly chilled to the touch.
I wonder if I'm burning her.
"Don't worry." I whisper.
I can hear her confidence through the darkness. "Please, I'm not worried."
I loosen my grip a little. So she doesn't need me, then. Why did I think she did? And why does it bother me that she doesn't?