"Sleeping with my peepers open," Sam giggles as they all stumble out of the Impala. Well, Elizabeth and Sam stumble, but Dean's sober for a change and he manages a brief smile. "I love that old lady! We should totally buy her some flowers and shit."
"Yes," Elizabeth nods. "We could get some…. Some…. It's like these." She pokes at Sam's lips and that starts them giggling again. Dean makes a mental note to take away their tequila privileges for a week. He glances to the right as Sam fumbles the motel key, spotting the little smartass that had checked them in the night before. "Tulips! That's what they are!"
"Pink ones, like little piggies."
"Y'all wait here for a minute," Dean orders. Sam and Elizabeth don't seem to hear him, but they're not moving away from the door and he'll take that win. "You okay, kid?" The little boy, maybe ten or eleven, looks pale as he glances away from his hands. Dread pools in Dean's belly, already knowing what's up even before the kid opens his mouth.
"My brother's sick," he says, guilt lacing the words.
"The little guy?" The boy nods, his eyes red and sore from crying. "Is it pneumonia like the other kids?" Another nod, some of his blond hair falling across his eyes. He doesn't duck his chin against his chest again, but it seems to be a close thing.
"He's in the hospital. It's all my fault." Dean knows how that guilt feels, how it eats away at you and nothing makes it better. He glances over at the giggling duo and remembers how panicked he'd felt when he saw that thing hovering over Sammy. "I should have made sure the window was latched."
"I promise you that this isn't your fault, okay?" Dean keeps his voice firm, full of assurance and lacking the biting anger that John's voice had held all those years ago.
"It's my job to look after him."
"You see those two idiots over there?" The kid nods, lips twisting to the side as Elizabeth falls onto the sidewalk with another cackle. "It's my job to keep them safe, too. I went out one night when I was about your age and when I came back, there was a stranger in our room. He had my brother pinned to the bed and was holding my girlfriend by her ankle to make sure she couldn't run for help. I know that guilt you're feeling."
"They look okay."
"Yes, they do. You know why?" He shakes his head and more hair falls across his eyes. Dean pushes it back with gentle fingers, then taps the kid under his chin with a knuckle. "Because I put that guilt aside and babied their asses for a month. They're spoiled rotten now. I'm thinking about selling them to a circus." The kid manages a weak laugh and Dean can see some of that guilt melting away.
"Come here, Michael," the kid's mom calls as she comes out of the motel. She's got her arms full of a blanket, pillow and stuffed animal and Dean opens the door of her car for her. "Turn on the no vacancy sign while I'm gone. I've got Denise covering room service, so don't bother any of the rooms."
"I'm going with you," Michael says. "I gotta spoil Asher."
"Hey, Michael," Dean says. "It's best to spoil little brothers when they're home again. Otherwise the nurses will chase you out." Michael doesn't seem happy about that, but he looks to his mother and gives a solemn nod. "Let me get those two morons in the room and then I'll drive you to the hospital, ma'am."
"No, that's too much to ask," the mother starts, but Dean cuts her off with a raised brow.
"You'll be doing me a favor. They broke out the tequila last night and that always makes them annoying." She glances to the pair currently leaning against each other and belting out the lyrics of a Britney Spears song. "They won't break anything, they'll just sing pop songs until they pass out."
"Thanks." She hands him her keys and presses a kiss to Michael's head before getting in the car. Dean hustles across the lot to Sam and Elizabeth, herding them into the room and shoving them onto a bed. They both tumble easily, snuggling together like puppies and falling asleep.
"Maybe I spoiled y'all a little too much." Elizabeth makes a small sound, but quiets when Sam tugs her closer to his chest. If nothing else, they'll stay warm and asleep as long as they're cuddled like this. "Fucking puppies, I swear to God." He heads out of the room and back to where the distraught mom is waiting for him.
"Take care of her," Michael calls.
"You got it, kid."
The ride to the hospital is spent in awkward silence, Dean focused on the case and Joanna focused on the wellbeing of her son. Once they actually get to the hospital, Joanna shakes his hand in thanks and rushes inside, leaving Dean behind in a waiting room that stinks of disinfectant. That smell brings back unpleasant memories; Dean laid up in a hospital bed, Elizabeth's tears wet on his shoulder, the desperate fear burning in Sammy's eyes.
He shakes the memories off, high-tailing it outside to Joanna's truck where the air smells of rain rather than bleach. Dean sucks in deep lungsful of clean air, leaning against the truck to keep himself upright. He still has nightmares sometimes, sees that Reaper leaning over him, feels his heart beating its way through his ribcage, Elizabeth stranded in a sea of fog.
"Stop it," he mutters, pulling at his hair. "It's over, Winchester, don't be a baby." That's what his father would have told him, supposed words of wisdom that had always made Bobby seethe. Bobby hadn't approved of a lot of John's choice sayings, preferring a good old fashioned hug over an unnecessary tongue lashing. Elizabeth takes after her uncle in that regard. As though summoned, Dean's phone rings and Elizabeth's name fills the screen. "Hey, Liza."
"Tequila hates me," she groans. "I'm never drinking again."
"I find that hard to believe." She groans again and he can hear Sam echoing the sound in the background. "Do me a favor and check on Michael after you make yourself presentable. His little brother's in the hospital and that's where I am."
"You got it." The line disconnects and Dean finds himself smiling as he pockets his phone. They may be idiots, but they're his idiots and he'll die for them if he has to. Right now, though, he's supremely pleased that he didn't drink with them last night.
Shaking his head, Dean heads back into the hospital and does his best to ignore the smell of bleach. He stops in the cafeteria to grab a couple cups of coffee, then he navigates his way past nurses and doctors until he finds Joanna fussing over her son.
"Hey," he murmurs. "I thought you might need this." She accepts the coffee with a grateful smile, humming. "I told my girlfriend to check in on Michael before she goes anywhere, so you don't have to worry about that. The girl's a natural when it comes to kids."
"Oh, do you two have kids?" She laughs at the face Dean makes, bringing her free hand up to hide her smile.
"Nah, but she's got a niece we all spoil rotten." He brings his phone out again, showing Joanna pictures from Lilly's last birthday, including the one where she'd pushed Darren's face into the cake. "She's four now and she thinks that means she's old enough to cross the street by herself."
"Just wait until she's a teenager."
"That baby's going to take over the world." He and Elizabeth are already working on designs for Lilly's supervillain costume, it's going to be epic. "We told her she has to take baby steps first, so she's working on taking over her preschool class." They talk about kids for a while after that, showing each other pictures and trading stories about what mischief the kids have gotten into and what mischief Dean and Joanna had gotten up to when they were kids. Every now and then the conversation would lapse so that she could check on Asher, but he can see all the good that talking's done Joanna. She's not as washed out now, a little less frazzled. It's around noon when the conversation dies down, Sam having perfect timing when he calls. "What's up, Sammy?"
"My blood pressure. Liza's been humming that dumb Hocus Pocus song all afternoon and I'm about to stuff her in the trunk." In the background, above the sound of computer keys clacking away, he can hear Elizabeth's humming and recognizes the tune Bette Midler sang. He's gotta be honest here, the sound is comforting compared to the weak beeping of Asher's heart monitor. "How's that kid doing?"
"Not great. What are you guys doing that has Liza humming like that? She only does it when she's bored."
"We're at the library." And, really, that's enough of an explanation. "I'm looking through microfiche of the happenings at Fort Douglas when Dad was supposed to be there and it's the same deal that's happening now. Before that it was Ogdenville, North Haverbrook, and Brockway. It hits a new town every fifteen to twenty years."
"That's great, we're dealing with fucking Pennywise."
"Nah, that was around every twenty-eight to thirty years. Liza already corrected me. Given everything Liza and I have found, this thing is going to last another two months at least. More than a dozen kids are gonna be dead or close to it before it goes into hibernation."
"How far back can you trace this thing?" Sam lets out a faint groan and there's a rustle of clothes, then Elizabeth is talking.
"I found this old log of deaths back in ye olden times," she says. "It has all these gnarly deaths like dysentery and the like, but the most interesting thing I found was from the 1890's in this place called Black River Falls. Thirteen kids fell mysteriously ill all around the same time even though there were no reports of adults dying in the same way. They ended up blaming some poor old lady and drowned her in a lake."
"So what you're saying is that we need to keep old Mrs. Black away from large bodies of water?" He doesn't get the laugh he's going for, met instead by silence. "Ah, come on, that was funny."
"I found something," Sam says. Dean can picture Sam and Elizabeth, faces squished together so they don't have to put the phone on speaker and eyes wide as they study whatever it is Sam has dug up. Elizabeth would be perched on the arm of Sam's chair or just flat out sitting on his lap, no care for what people might think.
"Well, don't leave me hanging. What'd you find?"
"This newspaper has an old photo that goes along with the article about sick kids. All these doctors and nurses are surrounding a kid's bed and you'll never believe who one of those doctors are." Dean has a pretty good guess, but he lets Sam say it anyway. "Hydecker."
"And that's weird, why?"
"Because this picture was taken in 1893." Dean hangs up without another word, pocketing his cell and slowly turning to face Asher's bed. The kid is gray and unconscious, heart beating weakly as Doctor Aaron Hydecker brushes a hand over his head. Dean wants to reach out and break that hand, but he holds back.
"Don't worry, Joanna," he says, rising from the bed. "I'm going to take care of your son." I'll just bet you are, sicko. Hydecker moves away from Joanna and over to where Dean's standing near the door, looking like every other doctor Dean's ever met. "So, what's the CDC managed to come up with?"
"We've got a few theories," he says, calm and rational. Hydecker would never guess that Dean's imagining stabbing him in the face with a scalpel. "You'll be the first person we talk to when we figure this out."
"Nothing's more important to me than these kids. Be sure and let me know if I can do anything to help." You can jump off the nearest cliff or trip in front of a semi. But Dean doesn't say anything beyond a low grunt of confirmation. He watches Hydecker leave the room, hands curled into fists at his sides. He really wishes he had his pistol.
The motel is three miles from the hospital and Dean uses the walk back to clear his head. There's no point looking as pissed off as he feels just in case he runs into Michael. He can't exactly tell the kid that a creepy monster is treating the neighborhood children as Happy Meals. That might fly in some fairy tale, but not the real world where Dean would get locked up in a heartbeat.
It turns out he doesn't have to worry about that, though, because Michael isn't standing guard in the parking lot. Dean picks up his pace a little and makes it to the room without being spotted. What he finds waiting for him comes as no shock—Elizabeth dancing around to a Britney Spears song she's pulled up on YouTube while reading a report while Sam hangs upside down off the bed. Sam's reading a dusty book, but he's also humming along to Slave 4 U. This is the best blackmail material a brother could ask for.
"You two having fun?" Sam jumps and falls off the bed, narrowly avoiding breaking his neck. That's a good thing, Dean doesn't feel like going back to the hospital or putting he's clumsy as fuck, not surprised it happened on a tombstone. "Graceful as always, Sammy."
"Oh, shut up," he grumbles, rolling onto his back and sitting up. "Did you shoot the doctor?"
"I have a little more self-control than that."
"No you don't," Elizabeth says. Britney Spears is paused as the younger two look over at Dean. He kind of wishes it was still playing. He's never going to admit this to anyone, but the song is catchy and he's found himself humming it or Toxic while he showers.
"Fuck both of you." Elizabeth's smile is wicked, sharp and warm all at once and it does funny stuff to Dean. Maybe he can get her to smile like that in a sexy wicked witch costume.
"I believe you fucked me two nights ago. Remember? Sam was passed out in the front seat, so you climbed over the back and—" Sam cuts her off with a loud noise, using his fingers to plug his ears like some kind of toddler. He used to do that all the time when he and Elizabeth were still kids and she was trying to spoil the newest episode of DuckTales. "So, did you shoot the doctor?"
"No, I did not. Thanks for the vote of confidence, but not even I am stupid enough to go full John Wayne in the pediatrics ward." Elizabeth and Sam share twin groans of disgust, Elizabeth dropping to the floor in order to lean against him. Dean remembers these two doing much the same thing when they were little, back when Sam's hair was still a lighter brown and they could pass as twins.
"I regret ever letting you watch a western," Sam grouses. "I should have cried my head off so that you'd get a headache just thinking about them."
"Trust me, you gave me that reaction to hair rock. Every time I see something to do with that Vincente guy, I want to hurl." Sam rolls his eyes so hard that Dean's surprised he didn't pull something. "Besides, I know how we're gonna dust this sucker."
"Vincente?"
"No, dumbass, the shtriga. It always goes after siblings within forty-eight hour periods. It got Asher last night, so my money's on it going after Michael tonight. We stake out the kid's room and then empty a clip into the bastard when it comes out to feed."
"We can't use the kid as bait! That's ridiculous!"
"What if it was Lilly," Elizabeth adds. Their voices overlap until they're just a dull roar in Dean's ears. The idea had crept up on him when he made it to the lot and it's the only one he thinks will work.
"That's enough," he snaps. His tone, the volume of it, is enough to have the pair snapping their mouths shut. "Look, it's my fault the shtriga's still alive and it's my responsibility to ice it! This is the only way!"
"How the hell is it your fault?" Dean doesn't answer, just looks to the window and remembers a similar motel room. He remembers feeling claustrophobic and just fed up in general with being stuck in a room with three other kids. There was no peace and quiet and Dana liked to argue about everything.
1989
"They're sound asleep," Dana whispers, breath warm against Dean's ear. He glances past her at the bed Sam and Elizabeth are curled up in, counting each movement of Sam's chest. The kid hasn't devolved into talking yet, but it's probably a close thing and now's the best time to sneak out.
"You got the key?" Dana nods and holds it up for him to see, then nods toward the motel room door. "Alright, let's go before Sam starts talkin'." They head out, making sure to lock the door back behind them, and head straight for the arcade next to the motel.
They actually have fun that night, loaded up on root beer floats and curly fries. Dean kicks ass at Galaga while Dana hustles a game of air hockey. They don't even realize how late it's gotten until the owner pokes his head into the room and tells them the arcade is closing for the night.
"This was great," Dana crows as they come out into the chilled night air. "We need to bring the twerps here tomorrow. I'll bet Liza will get the sugar high to end all sugar highs." Dean laughs and nods, but doesn't cherish the thought. He prefers to think of the arcade as their place, his and Dana's. They didn't have to worry about siblings that whine if they don't get the toy out of the Cracker Jacks box.
Dean unlocks the motel room door and steps inside, the pair freezing in unison. He doesn't know what it is at first, what's making him feel so sick to his stomach. Maybe that fifth root beer had been too much or—
The bedroom door's shut.
Dean and Dana share a look, both of them knowing that the bedroom door is only shut if one of them is changing. The twins hate the door being shut because they can't see the glow of the TV. And, now that he's really listening, he can hear a faint whispering coming from the other side of the closed door.
Dean is the first one to move, but Dana is right beside him in an instant, one of her hands squeezing his until he distantly wonders if she's planning to squeeze it right off his arm. With his free hand, he pushes the bedroom door open and the sight that greets him is like a kick to the gut. Sam is lying sideways on the bed, eyes closed as the hooded thing leans over him. Hanging off the bed, held in place by spindly fingers closed around her ankle, Elizabeth is thrashing to get free. She's putting up one hell of a fight and the howling noise she's making muffles the sound of the door opening.
Dean works his hand free to grab the shotgun propped up against the door frame, the creature's head snapping in his direction when he hears the safety click off. It's ugly as sin, all old skin with deep wrinkles carved into its face like grooves in a rock, mouth a gaping maw.
"Get down!" Dean drops on instinct and drags Dana to the floor with him as John comes charging into the room, firing his own gun at the creature. The bullets tear through the creature's heart, sending it sprawling through the bedroom window. Normally John would glance out to make sure he really got the sucker, but not tonight. Not when Sammy is still unresponsive on the bed and Elizabeth wailing on the floor. "Sammy?" He hauls Sam up onto his lap and Sam's eyes flutter open.
"Daddy," he asks. "What's going on? I'm sleepy. Why's Liza crying?" John scoops Elizabeth up, too, settling them both across his lap and hugging them to his chest in a way that Dean hasn't seen in years. Ever since the fire, there's been a distance between Dean and John, a crevice that ensures they never touch.
"What happened, Dean?"
"We-we went out," he stutters. The guilt is already eating at him because he knows what he did was wrong, but the glare John's sending him is worse than any blow. He feels like an absolute failure.
"This is what happens when you don't follow orders, Dean. You're supposed to know better."
2005
"We made tracks that same night," Dean says, that old guilt still twisting around his lungs. "He dropped us all off at Pastor Jim's three hours away, but the shtriga was gone by the time he got back. That's why it's my fault, guys. I'm the reason this son of a bitch is still preying on kids. We never talked about that night, but the way Dad looked at me after told me I'd never earn forgiveness in his eyes."
"Your dad is such an asshole," Elizabeth says, angry on Dean's behalf. "You were still a fucking kid, Dean. Me and Sammy should never have been your responsibility and fuck your old man for treating you like that. God, I'm gonna punch him in the face next time I see him." Sam looks like he feels much the same way and it's something of a relief to not see any blame in their eyes.
"He's bigger than you, Liza."
"Everyone's bigger than me, but that's never stopped me before. I'll make Sam lift me up so I'll have the high ground."
"If I lift you up high enough, you could kick his nose," Sam decides. It's a little disturbing to see how vindictive these two can be when they're together. It suddenly makes sense as to why Sam was never bullied when he went to school in Sioux Falls. Anyone tried something and these two would turn them into a bloody smear on the playground.
"Okay," Dean interrupts before they can plan John's demise. "Can we get back to the reason we're here?"
"We're here because Dad is an asshole." Elizabeth nods her agreement and Dean allows his head to fall into his hands. This is getting ridiculous. It's like herding cats on a mouse farm. Sam seems to notice his growing frustration and takes pity on him. "Fine, you're right. I'm still not sure about using Michael, though. Why don't one of us hide under the covers?"
"Me and you are six feet tall and way broader than any pre-teen."
"Liza's not."
"It can't feed off of Liza. The only time it's vulnerable is when it's feeding." Fuck, he's so not looking forward to this conversation. "Alright, let's get this over with." They head out of the room and to the main building, finding Michael sitting behind the desk. He's playing something on the computer, some kind of cake decorating game that Dean knows doesn't require WiFi. "Hey, kid."
"Mom says Asher's no better," Michael says, voice quiet. He's not even looking at them, focused on making the cakes. "She says she's gotta stay overnight."
"That's right. You wanna talk about it?" Michael's eyes snap up to Dean's, red-rimmed and sore. "I think I know how that window got open."
"How?"
"My friends and I, we hunt monsters for a living." Michael's brows furrow and he rolls back a little in the chair. "We, um…. I have fought this thing before, back when I was a kid. Remember I told you about Sammy and Liza? Well, the thing that got your brother almost got them, too."
"Monsters? You're joking, right? Just trying to cheer me up?"
"I wish I was, Michael. This thing, this shtriga, comes through the window and attacks kids. It probably left some kind of a rot on the sill in the shape of crazy long fingers. That stranger I told you about that I found leaning over these two was the same thing that's hurting kids around here."
"No, that's crazy. I'm calling the cops." There's an edge of fear in this kid's eyes, but it's not directed at the hunters.
"You've seen it, haven't you?" Michael's hand drops away from the phone and he leans back in the chair again. "Tall and super thin, dressed in dark robes like some kind of Death Eater. You know what I'm saying is true."
"I thought it was a nightmare."
"Sometimes nightmares are real, kiddo. We need your help to make sure this particular nightmare doesn't take another kid. All you have to do is lie in bed like you do every night. You hide under the covers and keep your hands over your ears because we're gonna blast that thing to Kingdom Come." There's a moment where Dean's sure Michael's gonna back down, but then his shoulders hunch up around his ears.
"Fine, for Asher."
Later that night, once it grows dark, the hunters set up shop in the room next to Michael and Asher's. Dean works on setting up the night vision camera while Sam and Elizabeth work their technical magic in the next room.
"What's the plan, Michael?"
"I stay under the covers until you guys come in and then I hide under the bed so I don't get hurt," Michael recites, practically verbatim. "You guys aren't gonna accidentally shoot me, right?"
"Never gonna happen. We're the best shots around." Michael makes an uncertain sound, but he doesn't argue. "We're not gonna fire until you're clear." Michael nods, a little more confident now. "Gunshots are really loud, especially when they're in a room this small. Make sure you cover your ears, alright? Are you sure you want to do this?"
"We're big brothers. We do crazy stuff to make sure our little brothers are safe." He says it so matter-of-factly that Dean tears up a little. Not a lot of siblings have this kind of bond, Elizabeth and Dana didn't have one like this. It's special, unbreakable. Dean claps him on the shoulder, then moves out of the room, turning off the light as he goes.
Elizabeth and Sam have the laptop set up in the next room, free to lean against each other like a couple of puppies. They're whispering too quietly for Dean to make out much of anything, but he catches Lilly and relaxes a little. As long as they don't gossip about him, he doesn't have to duct tape them to the wall.
"We all set," he asks.
"Yup," Elizabeth nods. She scoots to the side so that Dean can sit between her and Sam, then snuggles up under his arm like she owns it. Come to think of it, she's one of the only women he's let snuggle with him, so she basically does own that space. He's surprised her name isn't inked over his ribs. "How's Michael?"
"He's good to go." She hums and nuzzles at him, the scent of her body wash filling his head. It's sweet, like freshly baked cookies, and Dean wants to drown in it. "You smell really good."
"I know." She grins up at him, sitting up a little to press a kiss against his jaw. "You don't smell so bad yourself." Beside them, Sam groans and flops backward on the bed. Dean and Elizabeth share a look, then they copy Sam and draw him into their puppy pile. "Get over it, Sammy, you're stuck with us."
"Thanks for the warning," Sam grunts. "Maybe I should blind myself while I still have a chance."
"You're such a wuss."
"Don't you have a job to do?" Elizabeth's groan is even more dramatic than Sam's, but she doesn't argue. She grabs her pistol and then she's leaving the room, appearing a minute later on the laptop screen. She gives the camera a thumbs-up, then gets to the floor and slides under the bed. If nothing else, she'll be in position to blast this thing's kneecaps to smithereens.
The time passes slowly after that, the clock on Joanna's beside table ticking in slow motion. Around three, when Dean is starting to consider a pizza run, Sam starts to talk. Apparently emotions trump food. Dean isn't sure he approves.
"I'm sorry for all the crap me and Dad put you through." Dean's gaze snaps to his brother's face, but Sam's still watching the laptop and doesn't seem to notice. Around the six hour mark is when he starts to get tunnel vision, seven hours makes him loopy and useless. "I'm an ass, I know that. I could have made your life a lot easier if I'd just stop being so stubborn."
"Yeah, well, my life would suck without you in it, Sammy." Sam nods, then rubs his eyes hard. Dean's not sure if it's to deal with the tunnel vision or possible tears. "Listen to me." He grabs Sam's chin to make his brother look up, to lock gazes so he knows Dean isn't just talking out of his ass. "You're the best thing in my life right now, man. Well, you're tied with Liza, but you know what I mean."
"Yeah, same here. You and Liza are all I need for my word to be steady. We make a good team."
"Damn straight."
"If y'all are done acting out a Nora Roberts flick, we got company," Elizabeth hisses over the speaker. The boys' attention snaps back to the camera feed and it's not hard to notice the shadow lingering in front of the window. Long fingers, like branches, scratch at the glass and then the window is sliding open. Dean tenses as the shtriga slips inside the room like a pool of ink, tall and shrouded in its black robe. He remembers that night, how he'd felt frozen because that thing was bent over Sammy and sucking the life out of him. He's not going to let it hurt Michael, he'll die first. They wait in tense silence until the shtriga reaches the bed, then Dean gives the nod.
The first gunshot rings out before they even make it to the door, Elizabeth doing her job well. The shtriga's already on the floor when they come in, screeching in pain as Elizabeth empties her mag into its legs. Sam and Dean join in, aiming at its chest once they're certain Michael is under the bed. They stop firing when the shtriga goes quiet, lying motionless on the floor.
"Mike, you alright," Dean checks. Michael's head pokes out from under the bed and he gives a jerky nod. "Sit tight." Another nod and then his head is hidden from view again. Dean motions for Sam to stay where he is, then moves slowly around the bed to where the shtriga is lying. "Is it dead?"
"If it's not, it's in a lot of pain," Elizabeth says. She's half under the bed, busily reloading her pistol with the consecrated iron rounds. Dean moves a little closer, kicking the shtriga's foot. The creature is up and moving before Dean has a chance to react, flinging him across the room. He hits the wall and topples to the ground, taking a shelf down with him. Sam is following suit soon after, the shtriga climbing on top of him with its hands around his neck. Dean wants to cry out, but there's no air in his lungs and his chest is aching something fierce. Elizabeth, thankfully, doesn't have that problem. She disappears under the bed again only to pop out on the other side like some sort of prairie dog, firing three rounds into the shtriga's chest. It's enough of a stall for Dean to grab his pistol and put a .45 slug in its head.
"You okay, Sammy," Dean asks. Sam, breathing hard, gives a thumbs-up and shoves the shtriga off of him. Dean grunts as he stands, moving to help Elizabeth get Sam up. On the floor, the shtriga's mouth falls open and white mist spills out of it, its face aging rapidly and collapsing in on itself. Dean empties the rest of his magazine into it to be on the safe side. Michael comes out from under the bed, taking in the ragged clothes and the faint white mist disappearing out the opened window. He doesn't say anything, but Dean can tell by his smile that he's excited to get his brother back.
They're getting ready to head out the next morning when Joanna pulls into the lot. She looks a little worried, but then Michael's running out the door and into her arms and her smile is as warm as Mom's used to be. Moms give the best smiles and the best hugs.
"How's Ash," Michael asks.
"He's doing just fine," she says. "They're gonna keep him overnight for observation, but he's coming home. It's a miracle." Michael pulls away slightly, just enough for Joanna to look at the hunters. "The other kids will be coming home soon, too. Doctor Travis says the ward's gonna be a ghost town."
"What happened to Hydecker," Sam asks.
"He must have been sick or something. I didn't see him." Joanna shrugs and runs her fingers through Michael's hair, just as shaggy as Sam's. "So, did I miss anything while I was gone?" Michael and the hunters share a look, each of them offering Joanna the same mysterious smile.
"It was pretty boring," Michael says.
"Wanna go see Asher?" Michael's eyes light up and he's in the truck faster than the shtriga had thrown Dean across the room. Joanna laughs and tosses a goodbye over her shoulder before following her son and driving off.
"It sucks that Michael knows what's out in the dark now," Sam says, moving around to the passenger door. "I know it's stupid, but sometimes I wish I could have that innocence back." Elizabeth's smile is sad and Dean can see that same wish echoed in her eyes. He wishes that, too. He wishes a lot of things and they'll never come true. All three of them were raised in this life, they never had a chance to escape it.
"If it makes you feel any better, I wish you could, too," Dean says.
"Look on the bright side," Elizabeth says. "I got a new cassette from Walmart." She holds it up and Dean has to stamp down on the urge to do her grievous bodily harm. It's just not right, dammit. There's gotta be some kind of karma preparing to bite her in the ass for this because it's not fair. He's calling bullshit.
It's fucking Britney Spears.
My loneliness is killing me (and I)/I must confess I still believe (still believe)/When I'm not with you I lose my mind/Give me a sign/Hit me, baby, one more time