As It Was - Dean Winchester

Part 63

Dean punched the light switch, and not until then did he speak again, turning to Sam.

"What the hell were you thinking?"

"What?! What the hell was I thinking?" Sam exclaimed in indignation.

"She's a demon, Sam. Period. All right? They want us dead, we want them dead," Dean lectured.

I calmly took a seat on the bed I shared with him, carefully wrapping ice in a t-shit from my bag.

Sam scoffed. "Oh, that's funny; I remember that demon chick in Ohio, Casey? You didn't want her dead."

I raised a brow, not remembering what they talked about, and came to the conclusion that it must have been while Liam and I were locked up in Alaska.

"Yeah, well, she wasn't stringing me along like a fish on a hook, and that was only for the case," Dean replied, shrugging off his jacket.

"No one's stringing me along!" Sam denied. He took a deep breath. "Look, I know it's dangerous, that she is dangerous, but like it or not, she's useful."

"No!" Dean snapped. "We kill her before she kills us."

"Kill her with what?" Sam demanded in a snarky voice. "The gun she fixed for us?"

"Whatever works."

"Dean, if she wants us dead, all she has to do is stop saving our lives," Sam remarked.

Dean shook his head, instead walking into the bathroom and turning on the water in the sink, washing his face.

"Look, we have to start looking at the big picture Dean, start thinking in strategies and – and moves ahead. It's not so simple, we're not – we're not just hunting anymore. We're at war."

"You're right, Sam, we are at war," I agreed, injecting myself into the conversation. "The problem is that you are refusing to kill the enemy!"

"She is not the enemy! She is helping us!"

Dean dried his face, coming back out. "Are you feeling okay?"

Sam sighed, rolling his eyes. "Why are you always asking me that?" He slumped down on the bed next to me with a sigh.

"Because you're taking advice from a demon, for starters," Dean pointed out. "And by the way, you seem less and less worried about offing people. You know, it used to eat you up inside."

"Yeah, and what has that gotten me?" he questioned.

"Nothing, but it's just what you're supposed to do, okay? We're supposed to drive in the freakin' car and freakin' argue about this stuff. You know, you go on about the sanctity of life and all that crap. Dean began to run his stomach, looking uncomfortable.

"Wait, so – so you're mad because I'm starting to agree with you?"

I narrowed my eyes as Dean as his face twisted as if in pain. He exhaled slowly. "No, I'm not mad, I'm— I'm— I'm worried, Sam—" He sunk down on the bed next to me.

"Dean?" I asked worriedly, but he continued.

"I'm worried because you're not acting like yourself."

"Yeah, you're right, I'm not. I don't have a choice," Sam claimed.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Look, Dean, you're leaving – right? And I gotta stay here in this craphole of a world. Alone." Sam said, getting emotional. "So the way I see it, if I'm gonna make it, if I'm gonna fight this war after you're gone, then I gotta change."