My Winchester

Crimson Secret

"Carmen?" Dean asks, coming up the stairs. There was hardly a window anywhere in this place, but Carmen had found one near the door. She had to bring a chair to stand on in order to sit up on the window sill, but she loved reading here. She had her nose in a lore book.

"It's late, Golds," he mumbles, rubbing his eyes as he leans against the wall next to the window.

She shakes her head, not even glancing up at her boyfriend. "It's early," Carmen replies.

"Come back to bed," Dean mumbles, easing the book out of her hands. She sighs and leans her head back against the glass. "I'm hungry. I think I'll fix something and I'll be down in a minute, okay?" She says, leaning forward and lightly kissing his lips.

Dean reluctantly goes back to bed. Carmen stays up, eating a grilled cheese while she looks up reasons as to why somebody would tell Crowley that she wasn't human. Now that her issues with Dean were resolved, she had been thinking more and more about finally getting revenge. She had plans for after that too, and had even already made arrangements.

Now just left finding the son of a bitch who started this mess.

"Where's Carmen?" Sam asked Dean when they got up the next morning. "Probably still reading," he replied, entering the kitchen. Carmen had fallen asleep while reading, her head lain against the wooden table.

"You got her?" Sam asked, quietly closing the book in front of her.

"Yeah, I got her," Dean replied before gently picking her up and carrying her to his bedroom. He lays her down gently and admires how peaceful she looks in her slumber. He sighs as he exits the room, returning to Sam.

"We should probably start asking around and stuff, Dean," Sam says as they eat sandwiches.

"Yeah, I guess. I just don't want her running off or anything afterwards," Dean replied.

"She's not going to go anywhere. She's crazy about you, man," Sam stated. Dean nodded, but didn't really believe him. He knew he was making Carmen happy. He could see it in her smile.

He just hoped that getting revenge wouldn't make her weigh her options.

"Should we call around then?" Sam asked. Dean thought for a moment before sighing and nodding. Sam called several hunters that morning but couldn't find anybody who had heard a thing.

Until he called one of his dad's old friends.

"Yeah, Billy. We're just trying to help the girl, figure out what's going on," Sam said into his phone, Dean gauging his actions from across the room.

"Really? Can you give me that address?" Sam continues, picking up a pen and the newspaper.

"So?" Dean asks when Sam hangs up. "I got something," Sam replies, shrugging.

"Got what?" A sleepy Carmen says from the doorway. Dean's face relaxes when she walks in, and he pulls her into his lap as she walks by him. "Billy knew some guy who said there was someone who had it out for us. Hated dad or something, said he would get revenge," Sam says.

"Sammy there's a lot of people who hate Dad. Hell, there's a lot of people who hate us. You call that a lead?" Dean scoffs.

"Well it's the best thing we got," Carmen replies, leaning into Dean's chest.

Dean sighs, enveloping her in his warm arms.

"Alright, so, let's go."

***

"Can you describe him for me?" Carmen asked the hunter sitting across from them.

"What are you, girl. FBI?" The man scoffs.

Dean tenses up. Noticing this, Sam jumps to explain. "It's just something Carmen's been doing, Don. It helps with the cases if we have a visual."

Don frowns but begins describing the man who had it out for John Winchester. "He's a pretty short fellow. Dark hair, brown eyes I think. High cheekbones, thick eyebrows. Slicks his hair back a lot, like he walked right out of Grease."

After a few minutes of describing the man, Carmen shows Don the sketch. Though quick and sloppy, the sketch matches the description perfectly. Carmen had done this for almost every case they worked now, and she loved having her a pencil in her hand again. Dean would watch her draw sometimes, wishing she could have the college life he knew she wanted.

"So, this is him?" Carmen asks later that evening. She hadn't put the notebook down since they hit the road again. Sam stared at her from across the diner table.

"We don't know for sure, he just seems like our only suspect," he says after a moment. Her eyes flicker up to his for just a moment before trailing back down to the individual she had drawn. Sam sighs and lean his elbows on the table.

"Carmen," he says. When she looks up, he continues, "We're going to find whoever the hell it was. I promise. Dean and I, we're in it as much as you are."

"He's right, baby," Dean says as he slides into the seat next to Carmen. Her eyes light up when she realizes he's back, a tray of food now in between her and Sam. "I'm sorry guys, it's just hard," she mutters.

Dean and Sam exchange glances before Dean encircles an arm around Carmen. They dig into their food, ready to hit the road again.

Thanks to Dean's speeding habits, they pull up to an old creaky house the next morning. "Are you sure you're okay? You drove all night," Carmen ask him, concerned as she shoves a gas station cup of coffee his way.

"I'm good, Golds," he says, a faint smile tracing his lips.

"Y'all are disgusting this early in the morning," Sam mutters from the backseat. The couple chuckles in response before climbing out of the car.

"So we're just gonna knock on the door?" Carmen asks, looking over the eery house.

"We don't know if he's actually done anything. Plus, he's a hunter. Let's not jump to conclusions," Sam replies. Dean shakes his head at his brother. If he had his way about it, the guy would already be dead.

Sam knocks on the old wooden door, knowing he'd be better at explaining things than Carmen or Dean would. When no one came to the door, Dean takes out his lock pick, shoving Sam out of the way.

"Hey, Preston!" Dean yells out through the now open door. Carmen rolls her eyes at his recklessness. "My name is Dean Winchester. I'm not here to hurt you," he continues, pausing. "But that doesn't mean I won't. Now why don't you come on out so we can talk."

"You know what would be really funny," Carmen whispers to him as she follows him through the living room. He raises his eyebrows in reply. "If he wasn't here and you're just talking to yourself," she replies, lightly snickering. Her voice is light and airy to anyone else that would hear, maybe even Sam. Dean though can see the terror in her eyes.

With a gentle squeeze of the hand, Dean continues walking, now standing even more protectively in front of his girlfriend.

"Hey, there's nothing upstairs," Sammy says, as if appearing from nowhere. This causes Carmen to jump and back into Dean.

Dean groans as he catches her, glaring at his brother. Sammy gives that puppy eyed smile before his features turn more into concern. "Dude, you're bleeding," he says, pointing at the little bit of crimson leaking from Dean's arm.

"What the hell?" He mutters, wiping away the blood.

Just as the Winchesters concluded that morning, Preston Walker wasn't in that house. Though the boys were great at what they did, they failed to notice a tiny dart system placed on the very top of a bookshelf. It was too late anyways, for Dean had already been infected.