CHAPTER SEVEN
Wednesday morning, 0530
Wisconsin
"Should we take some back for them?" Bennett asked, licking sticky cinnamon roll frosting off her fingers. She turned around and walked backwards, trying to keep the wind blowing the right direction to keep her hair out of her face.
Sam laughed and said, "We were taking some back for them, remember? We were taking the ones you just ate back to them."
Bennett almost looked ashamed of herself, but quickly ate the last bite of the last cinnamon roll and didn't really look that sorry after all. Eyes wide said, "They were really good, Sam."
"I can tell." He said, grabbing her shoulders and steering her around a slightly annoyed pedestrian that she'd nearly walked into. "So I guess cinnamon rolls go on the good list while raisin nut bread…"
"Is an abomination." Bennett wrinkled her nose, remembering the bite she'd taken of his bread. "Anything that looks like chocolate chips should not be in fact a shriveled up grape."
Sam sighed, "That's what Dean says."
"It's subterfuge, Sam!" She insisted, still walking backwards.
He smiled, but felt a pang of sadness thinking about the fact that she was still trying new foods to decide what she liked or didn't like. Her memories were coming back, but not completely. At least the cinnamon rolls had gone over well, although the absence of rolls when the rest of the group woke up was not going to be appreciated, Sam knew. Part of the whole point point in going out to breakfast had been to bring some rolls back to Dean and Casey and hopefully ease them into the morning after their rough night. He sighed; thinking about his brother and Casey left him worried and frustrated and with a growing tension behind his eyes.
"What's wrong?" Bennett asked, tilting her head and stopping so abruptly he had to grab her shoulders again to keep from barrelling right over her. She frowned up at him and said, "Something changed. Right then. Is it the cinnamon rolls?"
Smiling, he turned her around now that she was finished with the cinnamon roll and didn't need to keep her hair from blowing into her sticky fingers. He said, "It's not the cinnamon rolls."
"So what is it? You look worried." Bennett said taking his hand, and staring up at him. "Is it...them?"
Sam nodded, "It's them."
Bennett held his gaze for a minute, then said, "Isn't it a good sign that they were together last night?"
"I hope so."
They fell into silence as they walked. It was early and the streets had been mostly deserted. Sam yawned; it was too early. Especially since they'd had a late night. But neither of them had slept well and, after lying awake and listening to Bennett tossing and turning with nightmares for almost two hours, Sam had suggested going for breakfast. So they'd hiked back to the nearest eating establishment, the same truck stop they'd had dinner at the previous evening. By they time they'd made it halfway back to the motel, Bennett had finished off the extra cinnamon rolls he'd intended to give to Dean and Casey.
Oh well, they can just deal with their own breakfast this morning, Sam shook his head as the approached the motel. The lights were still out in Dean and Casey's room and he wasn't about to wake them up this early so he just unlocked the door to the other room, flipped on the lights and let Bennett into the room. She went straight for the first bed and crawled under the covers, head on the pillow, smiling up at him sleepily.
"Turn off the lights, Sam. It's too early to be awake."
He hesitated for a minute, staring at her. He'd been planning to open the laptop and start...well he wasn't sure what he'd been planning to do actually. But it didn't seem very important at the moment and even the crisp morning air hadn't been enough to wipe away the exhaustion that came from being up almost the entire night. Dean and Casey probably wouldn't be waking up another hour; or longer depending on how much Dean had actually drank last night. So Sam just nodded and flipped off the lights, hanging his coat on the back of a chair.
"You're in my bed, Bennett." He smiled as she rubbed her eyes like a kid in need of a nap.
"I know." She said, not making a move. "Guess we'll just have to share, huh?"
"I could always sleep in the other one." Sam teased, even though he had no intention of doing so.
"Where's the fun in that?" Bennett whined, but Sam saw the truth in her eyes in spite of the teasing.
He knew she was still scared. About her powers, about everything that had been happening. So he just joined her and wasn't surprised when she wrapped her arms around him, head on his chest. Cinnamon rolls and light-hearted conversation or not, he could feel her trembling and it wasn't because of the cold.
Wednesday morning, 0810
Wisconsin
Dean felt something slap him in the face and he woke with a start, hand automatically
searching for a weapon. He was blinking his eyes in the morning light trying to remember where he was and why he felt so groggy and hungover when he heard a soft groan next to him. Glancing to his left, he saw Casey's face nestled against his shoulder, her arm now across his chest. With a relieved grin, Dean settled back against the pillow and sighed. Then everything came back to him from the day before, and the night before that and he felt a little less relieved and a little more anxious.
Swallowing against the memories of the attack in the mall, Dean concentrated on the fact that Casey was alive and breathing and that his arm was asleep. Hating to do it, he shifted and tried to pull his arm out from under her.
"Dean?" She mumbled, lifting her head up and blinking slowly at him.
Her hair was a mess and her face was blotchy and red from where she'd been laying against him. Even so, she was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. Dean sat up a bit against the headboard and smiled, "Hey."
Casey smiled back, "Hi."
"You sleep ok?"
"Mhmm." She nodded, pushing herself upright and looking around the room with a yawn. She asked, "What time is it?"
Dean glanced at his watch. He looked up in shock, "It's after eight."
Casey nodded, rubbing her eyes. "I want cinnamon rolls."
"I told Sam to bring us breakfast." Dean shook his head. "Never listens…"
"They've made us breakfast almost every morning at the bunker. They get to take a morning off now and then." She said, then flopped back on the pillow and groaned, "I really want cinnamon rolls, Deano. Like seriously want them...I'm starving."
"Ok, ok." He kissed the top of her head and said, "I'll see if I can find some. There was a truck stop a block away."
"Normally I'd say forget it," Casey mumbled, "but right now I'm actually hungry enough to eat truck stop food."
Dean eased off the bed, shaking his hand and feeling the pins and needles start. He said, "Stay put. I'll be back in a bit."
"Mmhmm...bring coffee." Casey curled up and fell back asleep before he had grabbed his keys.
His smile faded as soon as he stepped outside and the blast of the sun sent ragged spikes of pain straight to the back of his brain. Pressing his hands against his eyes for a moment, Dean wholeheartedly regretted his drinking spree. Should've grabbed some aspirin before you walked out, he thought to himself. He stumbled to the car and got behind the wheel, fumbling for sunglasses.
Once he could actually get his eyes open all the way, he started the car and pulled out of the motel parking lot. Dean's relief at having Casey back safely with him was tempered by the realization that they'd settled nothing. It made him nauseous. Or maybe that was just the liquor. Either way, he knew they still needed to talk. They'd been too exhausted, and he'd been too drunk, last night to sort through the complex mess of their relationship.
Reaching the truck stop, Dean headed inside to find something for breakfast. Finding some cinnamon rolls, he headed for the coffee. His thoughts wandered back to Casey. He knew she was still bothered by his near obsessive need to protect her. Not entirely sure why she was reacting so strongly to it, Dean knew he needed to talk to her, get to the bottom of it. And he knew he needed to back off, to give her space.
Paying for the coffee and cinnamon rolls, Dean hurried back to the car. Back in purgatory, he'd protected her more times than he could count. And she'd never reacted like she had lately. Of course, he'd also fought side by side with her and not treated her like a kid, Dean realised with a grimace. First chance he got, they needed to have a talk. They couldn't go on like this much longer.
Sighing, he drove back to the motel and wished he could come up with the perfect thing to say to her. Whatever he came up with, though, sounded...well stupid. Mood darkening, Dean tried to shake himself out of it as he pulled into the driveway. Last thing he needed was to be in a bad mood when he went in to talk to Casey. Parking the car, he sat for a long moment in silence. He took a deep breath, then headed back into the motel room.
"Did you get them?" Casey's voice was eager and she grinned at him from the bed, sitting up, hair still a mess.
His bad mood evaporated as he approached the bed. She clapped her hands and reached out for a cup of coffee and said, "Oh you have made me the happiest woman in the universe."
"Don't thank me till you try it." He warned with a smile.
"As long as it's caffeinated, I don't care if it tastes like grease." Casey took a sip and closed her eyes in bliss.
"So better than grease?" He asked, sitting down next to her and taking a sip of his own cup.
Casey reached out for a cinnamon roll and said, "It's truck-stop coffee. But it's actually halfway decent truck-stop coffee."
Dean found that it wasn't even on the top thirty worst coffee's he'd ever had in his life. He fought for a cinnamon roll as Casey was already reaching for her second one. He asked, "How you feeling?"
"Sticky and gross. Nothing a shower can't fix. I'm okay." She said, "Really. Still a bit tired, but considering… I can't complain." Casey reached for the nightstand and tossed a pill bottle at him. "Take an aspirin. You have to be hungover."
"Little bit." He admitted. Wasn't much use hiding it. His head was throbbing in time with his pulse.
"Did you see Sam or Bennett?"
"Nope. I was focused on getting cinnamon rolls."
"We should probably check on them, don't you think?" Casey asked, finishing her second cinnamon roll.
Dean nodded and tossed his empty coffee cup into the garbage. "Probably."
Casey pulled on his jacket, "I texted them while you were out and haven't heard back."
"Some people are so lazy." Dean said, not really in a hurry to go anywhere. He paused and Casey looked at him curiously. He said, "I just had a thought."
"Hurt much?" Casey grinned.
"Funny. Actually, I was thinking...Sam said he was taking her out to dinner last night."
"Aww!" Casey said, "That's so romantic."
Dean nodded, "But what if...what if they got up to, y'know?" He winked, "We did leave them unsupervised last night. Maybe they don't wanna be disturbed."
"We'll knock." Casey rolled her eyes. "It's almost nine, Dean, and we haven't heard from either of them. I'm getting worried."
"Ok, ok." Dean said, pushing himself to his feet. But before they could go anywhere, Casey's phone rang. He met her eyes and asked, "Bennett?"
"I wish." Casey grimaced and added, "It's Yvette."
Dean glared at her and said, "I really hate that woman."
"Hush." Casey said, answering the phone and patting his chest as she walked toward the bathroom to try to do something with her hair as she talked. "Yvette? What's up? You got my report, right?"
While Casey chatted with Yvette, Dean paced the room with growing frustration. He really hadn't been lying when he'd said he hated Yvette. As far as he was concerned, the woman was single-handedly responsible for his and Casey's recent arguments. He started cleaning his gun to try to calm down while he listened to Casey's half of the conversation.
"Really? Yvette, that's amazing! What are the chances? Ok...right…and she contacted you? Wow, well she sounds smart if she is contacting the museum rather than trying to do all of it on her own. Ok...yeah...yeah. Right. Sure, it would definitely be an important find. I'm sure she'll want to keep it for her own museum, but if there was any chance...exactly, a traveling exhibit would fit in so well with the Maritime exhibit we were planning for next spring."
Dean glared at the gun he was working on and wished Yvette had lost Casey's number. Although, to be fair, Casey sounded really excited about whatever it was Yvette was telling her about. He sighed. He probably should be a little less annoyed with all of this, especially since Casey obviously was thrilled with whatever was going on. He looked up as she walked back into the room and plopped down on the bed next to him. She easily displaced his weapons and tapped a hand on her shoulder.
With a slight smile, Dean started rubbing her shoulders, knowing that was what she'd been asking for.
Casey said, "What was your friend's name, again? Matilda Corprew. Got it. Ok. Right, right, ok sure let her know. I'll...yes, yes...I will. I'll let you know." Casey broke off and looked up at Dean briefly then said, "I just have to check on one thing. I'll call you back. Sounds good. Ok thanks, Yvette. Bye."
Dean didn't stop massaging her shoulders, but had a feeling he was going to need the stress-relieving massage once he heard whatever Casey was about to tell him.
"Mmm, that feels so good, Deano." Casey mumbled, lowering her head and tossing her phone aside as she relaxed under his hands.
"Wanna tell me what that was about?" Dean asked, knowing immediately it was the wrong thing to say. Casey's muscles tightened and her back straightened.
"Maybe and maybe not." Casey said, irritation in her voice as she pulled away from him, snatching her phone up again. She stood up and folded her arms, "Why do you have to be like that?"
Dean sighed. Maybe instead of cleaning the gun he should have used it on himself before he said stupid stuff again. He shook his head and said, "I'm sorry, Echo. Ignore me."
"Sometimes I want to." Casey muttered, folding her arms across her chest. She glared at him for a long moment, then said, "If you're going to be a jerk about it, maybe I should just go."
"Go?" Dean didn't like the sound of that at all. He shook his head, "Don't go. Just tell me what's going on. Please."
Casey stared at him, took a deep breath and slowly her posture relaxed. She nodded, sitting back down on the edge of the bed. She said, "Yvette was calling because a good friend of hers had contacted her about an incredible find in North Carolina…"
"And Yvette wants you to go." Dean said. Shaking his head, he said, "Casey, you just got blown to kingdom come yesterday and you're thinking about a trip to Carolina?"
"Yes. Because I'm fine. I feel fine; just needed a good night's sleep." Casey nodded, trying to convince him. "Which I got. Dean, this find...it's...I can't pass it up. The museum is supplying a cottage and putting me up as long as I need to stay to help with the process."
Dean didn't need a long explanation, and apparently she knew that. Because her excitement came through in her voice and sparkling eyes. She grinned and said, "Besides, this should make you happy!"
"Why would this make me happy?" Dean grumbled.
"Because it's a nice safe little trip to a small island where I'll be assisting with the examination and cataloging of nice, safe artifacts from a 200 year old shipwreck." Casey smiled, "No angels."
"Except for one." Dean sighed, knowing he was going to have to lose this argument if he didn't want to lose Casey.
Her smile widened and she said, "Just me."
"So."
"So?"
"So, can I come too?" Dean asked finally.
Casey pursed her lips and contemplated before saying, "I suppose so." She smiled and moved to climb onto Dean's lap. She planted a chaste kiss on his lips and smiled. "Thanks for understanding. Besides, what could go wrong? It's just a few artifacts."
"Oh I'm sure something'll find a way to go wrong. It usually does," he smiled and rolled his eyes. He wasn't overly enthused about the idea of Casey running around an island with potentially cursed, haunted, or moldy artifacts after what she just went through, but he didn't have much of a choice.
"Go check on the kids, I'm gonna grab a shower real quick," Casey bounded up from Dean's lap. She flitted about the room, grabbing various items from her bag and a flannel shirt from Dean's bag before heading into the bathroom.
Dean huffed and stood from the bed. "Echo?" he called as he reached the door.
"Yeah babe?" she turned and faced him from bathroom.
"If we are doing this, I need to know something. It's kind of important," Dean started, but hesitated.
"Shoot," Casey replied. She wanted to ease his concerns about both her and this trip.
"Will there be beaches?"
Casey rolled her eyes and chuckled, "Yes Dean, there will be beaches. Islands generally are surrounded by them."
"And bikinis?" He asked hopefully, if slightly lecherously as he grinned at her.
Casey just raised her eyebrow and shrugged. "If you're lucky," she winked and closed the bathroom door.
Dean couldn't help the smile that split his face. They still needed to talk, about a lot of things. But at least this hadn't turned into the battle he thought it would. If they could compromise like this, maybe they would be okay after all. With that in mind, Dean walked over to the next room to wake up his not-so-little little brother and his not-so-girlfriend girlfriend.
Dean knocked on the door and waited. Mostly patiently. For five seconds. Then he pounded on the door, feeling slightly guilty about it. Slightly. He smiled when he heard muffled cursing and what sounded like someone running into a table. Serves him right for forgetting to bring us breakfast, Dean thought, taking a step back and waiting for the door to open.
A second later, the door opened and he felt a bit guilty for being such a jerk. Because it didn't look like Sam had slept. Maybe at all. Considering he was the one with the hangover, Dean couldn't figure out why his brother was the one who looked like hell.
"Hey."
Sam frowned at him, looking half asleep, and asked softly, "Hey. Everything ok?"
"Everything's not ok." Dean said, folding his arms over his chest. "You didn't bring us breakfast. I had to go get it myself."
"Um. Sorry. We did bring back cinnamon rolls." Sam said, not moving from the doorway. "Bennett ate them."
"Uh huh." Dean raised an eyebrow, peeking around his brother to find the room dark and a suspicious lump in his brother's bed. Dean grinned suggestively, "And what? You guys went back to bed?"
"Yeah." Sam said, looking unamused, "She was having nightmares all night."
And there went the potential material for Dean to tease Sam with all day long. Dean sighed, feeling even worse for pounding on the door. He lowered his voice and asked, "This is getting worse?"
"I don't know." Sam shrugged, then asked, "How are you guys? What's the plan?"
"I'd say there was no plan, but apparently there is a plan."
"Oh?"
"Casey got a call. Something about some historical find in North Carolina."
"So we going?"
"It's not a case, Sam."
"Ok. Then what? Is Casey going to check it out?"
"We're going." Dean said with a shrug as he rubbed his eyes, "I guess. I don't know, man, it just happened."
"Sure." Sam nodded, rubbing his own eyes, "Ok. Well, uh I guess I can take Bennett back to the bunker and…
"Come with us!" Casey said, appearing at Dean's side.
"Fastest shower ever," Dean commented, tucking her under his arm.
"Yea well it happens occasionally. Also I didn't do my hair cus I stopped caring. Also cus my arms are randomly sore and I didn't want to hold the blow dryer," Casey laughed, peeking into the darkened room, catching sight of Bennett untangling herself from a pile of blankets.
"What's going on in North Carolina?" Bennett asked, not bothering to get out of bed.
"An archeological find." Casey explained, pushing past the boys and climbing under the covers next to Bennett. She said, "They just found some wreckage from a ship that sank off the coast of Ocracoke Island in the 1700s. The museum wants me to go assist with the recovery and cataloguing of the artifacts."
"What ship is it?" Sam asked, sitting down at the table across from Casey.
Dean rolled his eyes. "Is there nothing you won't geek out over, Sammy?"
Sam just glared at him and Casey smiled, clearly pleased to have someone who would get as excited about dusty old stuff as she did. She said, "They aren't exactly sure. But there's some evidence that makes the historian there think it could be The Flaming Ship of Ocracoke."
"The what?" Dean asked, but was completely ignored.
Sam's eyes widened and he suddenly looked wide awake as he said, "Seriously? That's crazy because we actually heard about your ship, Casey."
Casey exchanged a glance with Dean. He asked, "What are you talking about?"
"Last night, at dinner, this trucker was talking about…" Sam started, but Dean cut him off.
"Trucker?" Dean asked, incredulous. So much for romantic, he rolled his eyes, "You took Bennett to the truck stop for dinner?"
"It was after ten. Not much open after ten." Sam shrugged, "Besides, you had the keys to the Impala and I didn't want to wake you guys up. So it was the closest thing to walk to."
Well, crap. Dean felt a pang of guilt about that, but motioned for Sam to continue.
"This guy had just come from North Carolina. He was sitting near us and was really loud." Sam explained, "He and another guy started out talking about pirates and then he mentioned this legend. The Flaming Ship of Ocracoke."
"Pirates, eh?" Dean grinned, "Blackbeard?"
"Actually," Sam nodded, "Ocracoke is reportedly the location of his death."
"Huh." Dean raised an eyebrow. He grabbed a cookie out of a nearly empty package on the table and said, "Whole thing sounds hokey."
"Maybe, but there's a lot of lore about it." Sam said, warming to his topic. "Ever since the early 1700s when this ship sank off the coast, the island has been rumored to be haunted. The ship was bringing people to settle the new world and it didn't quite make it to shore."
"Something hinky happened?" Dean asked, feeling certain he already knew the answer.
"Oh yeah. According to the reports the captain decided to ensure he was going to be the
king of Ocracoke. The people on the ship were wealthy Germans, but, fearing pirates, they had made themselves look as poor as possible. The Captain figured it out and the night before they were supposed to take the passengers ashore, he and his crew murdered them all in their sleep."
"Of course, the ship burned up before he got to spend any of his money." Bennett said, trying to push her hair out of her face. She slid off the bed and said, "That's the other creepy part. But that's still not all of it."
"Flaming ships not enough?" Dean asked, "What else?"
Sam's attention wandered as Bennett stood up and grabbed her coat. He asked, "Hey, where are you going?"
Bennett held up her cigarettes.
"I thought you quit." Dean glared at her, "Or were going to quit. Again. Or whatever."
"I did. I am. And I will." Bennett shrugged and smiled brightly. "Just not today. And I'm not going anywhere near the Impala so don't even bother saying what you want to say."
Dean rolled his eyes as she left the room. He turned back to Sam, "You need to deal with that girl. She's getting too mouthy. Been hanging around…"
"You?" Sam smiled, "You're a bad influence on her."
Dean looked to Casey for support but she just nodded in agreement. Dean threw his hands into the air and said, "Alright. Back to this flaming ship thing. You said everyone died on that ship. So who exactly was it that told the story?"
Sam shrugged and ran a hand through his hair, "That's the question, isn't it? That sticky
bit aside, ever since the ship went down the island has had any number of freaky happenings. The lore on the ship says that it appears every September, on the first night of the first full moon."
"Well, it's not September." Dean said, "So we're not going to see it. Or were you planning to put a pin in it and take a trip this fall?"
Casey kicked him under the table. "Will you let him finish?"
Sam smiled at her and continued, "That's why the truckers were talking about it. Every year people see this flaming ship in September. But the trucker said he'd seen the ship. Like within the past week."
Dean shook his head, "I don't like this."
Casey laughed, "What are you talking about?"
"You want to take a trip to catalogue crap from a sunken ship and now a ghost ship that only appears in September is appearing in the completely wrong month?" Dean said, already feeling the slight misgivings turning into pure dread. He didn't want to be anywhere near anything freaky. Not yet. Not after what Casey had just gone through.
Sam narrowed his eyes and asked slowly, "So you're bothered...what? That this ship could be haunted?"
"Of course I'm bothered that it might be haunted, Sam!" Dean snapped. "I mean, does anyone think we should, I don't know, maybe take a vacation? We just barely lived through a close encounter of the angelic kind. And, man, it's only been a couple weeks since we killed the
freakin' plague! Does that count for nothing?"
The room fell silent for a minute then Sam said, "We don't know for sure that anything weird is going on, man. Could be nothing."
"Or it could be something." Casey said, hand on Dean's arm, "But either way, I'm going, Dean. It's my job to help with those artifacts. After what happened in Chicago, I need to do something to help the museum out."
"I'm not going to win this argument, am I?" Dean sighed, trying to pull himself together.
Casey smiled, "Nope."
"Fine. Fine. We'll go." Dean surrendered, still not happy about the fact that a simple, boring museum trip now had the potential of being their kind of thing. The kind of thing that could get them all killed. He headed out the door and called over his shoulder, "Pack your crap, Sam."
Casey rolled her eyes at Sam, who rose wearily and started shoving stuff into his backpack. She watched Dean walk out of the room, then said, "I guess I kind of freaked him out."
"Just a little." Sam nodded, looking over at her. He said, "I know how hard things have been for you two. Are you doing ok?"
"Better. It's taking time. Adjusting, you know? But I think we're getting there." Casey smiled, motioning to the door, "I better go help him pack before he freaks out because I've been out of his sight too long."
She walked outside and found Dean already throwing some of their gear into the trunk of the Impala. "Wow, looks like you're ready to go."
"Not really." Dean shook his head, "I still think we need to wait. Just let you rest…"
"Dean, I'm fine." Casey protested, squeezing his arm. "I know I look like crap. I'm tired. Not gonna lie. Kicking angel butt is a bit of a drag. But I'm fine. I. Am. Fine. Ok? I swear. I'm tired. But I can catch up on my sleep in the car. If you would turn the music down once in awhile." She grinned at him, "You're going to go stark raving mad just sitting here in the middle of nowhere Wisconsin." She paused, considering, "Is there anything else in Wisconsin except the middle of nowhere?"
Dean smiled, "I think there's a place called Green Bay. Probably still the middle of nowhere, but they do have a football team."
"The cheese curds?" Casey laughed.
"Hush." Dean shook his head, looking around dramatically, "Be careful. They'll hear you."
Casey rolled her eyes, "Ok, let's go. I'll sleep. You can take care of me. Deal?"
"Like you're going to let me take care of you." Dean muttered, turning away in frustration.
Casey followed him and looked up at him earnestly, "I will. I promise you can take care of me. At least for a few hours."
Dean shook his head and cracked a small smile. He sighed, "You drive me nuts."
"I know. Road trip?" Casey grinned.
"Fine." He said, then pointed back at the room. "If they ever get themselves together, we'll go. But, right now, right this very second, I want it to go on the record. I am against this idea."
"Noted."
"So when the crap flies later and someone asks why we didn't just take a nice long vacation, I'm gonna be the one saying I told you so." Dean said, tossing his gear in the trunk. He grimaced at how little room there seemed to be in the trunk these days. Reaching in, he yanked out a pink Hello Kitty make-up case. That was the last straw. Glancing at Casey, he held it up and asked, "Yours?"
"Um, no." She giggled. "But I might have given her the money to buy it."
Dean rolled his eyes and dropped the case back into the trunk. He really didn't want to be touching it at all. It looked so out of place sitting on top of the weapons cache. Sighing, he asked, "I guess I'm going to have to get used to stuff like this, aren't I?"
Casey wrapped her arms around him, "I think so, dear."