Dean and I sat in silence in our motel room, waiting for Sam to return. He was over at the table cleaning out a gun while I just sat on one of the beds, staring off into space as I got lost in thought. I had heard a voice when we were at that convent, and the same one on that plane... Lucifer's voice. I had only ever heard Cass's up until that point in my head. Part of me wondered if I should bring it up, but considering everything else we were dealing with at the moment, decided not to.
"Hey," Dean spoke as Sam entered the room.
"Hey," he greeted us.
After shutting the door, he reached inside his jacket and pulled two items out, tossing one each to Dean and I.
"Here. Hex bags," he said. "No way the angels will find us with those. Demons, either, for that matter."
"Where'd you get them?" Dean asked.
"I made it."
"How?" I inquired.
Sam hesitated long enough for us both to look up at him.
"I... I learned it from Ruby."
Dean put down the gun, standing to approach his brother.
"Speaking of. How you doing? Are you jonesing for another hit of bitch blood or what?"
"I-it's weird," Sam shrugged. "Uh, tell you the truth, I'm fine. No shakes, no fever. It's like whoever... put me on that plane cleaned me right up."
"Supernatural methadone," I muttered, staring down at the hex bag in my lap to avoid the brothers' eyes.
"Yeah, I guess," Sam paused. "Guys-"
"Sam," Dean interrupted, turning away. "It's okay. You don't have to say anything."
"Well, that's good. Because what can I even say? 'I'm sorry'? 'I screwed up'? Doesn't really do it justice, you know? Look, there's nothing I can do or say that will ever make this right-"
"So why do you keep bringing it up?!"
I looked up at Dean, though remained silent, mirroring the puppy-dog look Sam was giving his older brother. I understood how Dean was feeling at the moment, part of me shared the sentiments. However, I also sympathized and understood Sam's perspective on the whole ordeal. We'd all made stupid mistakes under the pretense that we were trying to do the right thing sometimes. When Sam sighed, Dean turned back to face him again.
"Look, all I'm saying is, why do we have to put this under a microscope? We made a mess. We clean it up. That's it."
Sam nodded, and Dean looked over at me.
"Alright, so, say this is just any other hunt. You know? What do we do first?"
"We'd, uh, figure out where the thing is," I supplied quietly.
"Alright," Dean nodded, glancing at Sam again then back at me. "So we just got to find... the devil."
⁘
Sam was studying John's journal while Dean and I watched some news station on the TV.
"How would you explain an earthquake, a hurricane, and multiple tornadoes, all at the same time, all around the globe?" the first reporter asked.
"Two words," reporter number two answered. "Carbon emissions."
"Yeah, right, wavy gravy," Dean rolled his eyes.
There was a knock at the door and Dean pulled his gun, standing and keeping it just out of sight. I remained seated on the bed while Sam crossed over to answer it. On the other side was a woman with layered blonde hair who looked like she was having trouble breathing.
YOU ARE READING
She Talks to Angels | {BOOK 2}
Fanfiction-BOOK 2 IN THE DAWSON'S DAUGHTER SERIES- ___ It's been four months since Dean went to Hell, and they've all taken it pretty hard. However, when Ellie hears her angel's voice in her head for the first time since the attack, it starts a chain of event...
