Rewrite Of Supernatural Series: Season 1.

Dead Man's Blood - Part 3.

'Toss this on the fire,' John gave a bag to Dean. 'Saffron, skunks, cabbage, trillium. It'll block our scent and hers until we're ready.'

'Stuff stinks,' Dean coughed a little.

'Well, that's the idea.'

You, Sam, and B/F were already in a circle around the said fire. You were much calmer now that they'd been dealt with.

You were mulling over what could've possibly come over you. You've seen Dean flirt with other girls, you've seen him date them. What was so wrong about this interaction? When did it go from jealousy that would tide over in time, to vengeance?

'Dust your clothes with the ashes, and you'll stand a chance of not being detected,' B/F added, sagely.

'Sure they'll come after her?' Sam asked.

'Yeah. Vampires mate for life. She means more to the leader than the gun,' John replied.

"She" was tied to a tree in ropes. B/F had done those honours with Dean. B/F wouldn't say it to you, but she was worried you might kill your only leverage because of what she did.

It wasn't heinous, per the standards of many people. But she'd seen you kiss Justin as unwillingly as Dean had been forced tonight. (This was during the last year of your marriage where you'd much later admitted that it had felt like Justin had been forcing himself on you.) She had a disturbing feeling that you'd linked the two incidents in your mind without even realising it.

She definitely needed to hand Dean a heads-up in case you failed to bring it up.

'Speaking of,' Dean nervously interjected. He took your hand away from your chest, uncrossing your arms, surprising you. He met his Dad's eyes, 'I guess you know about us now.' There was a nervous sheen to his face, but he wasn't going to step down, it clear in the rigidity of his jaw.

John was an unreadable personality unless you'd known him all your damn lives. So, when his brows twitched, you knew he wasn't surprised.

John nodded. 'You've been dancing on eggshells these past two days. Figured you'd taken the leap.'

You interacted a look with Dean. That's it? you both mirrored.

'Okay, then,' Dean took that at it's face value - like a good sign. But you were extremely confused - was this the big showdown you'd been fearing?

John didn't show signs of helping you dissolve that befuddlement. He continued the case as if you both hadn't dropped a big bomb on him.

'The blood sickness is gonna wear off soon,' he said. 'So, you don't have a lot of time.'

'Half hour oughta do it,' Sam said, sheathing his weapon.

'Then, I want you outta here as fast as you can.'

'But-'

'Whoa, Dad! You can't take care of them all by yourself.' It was Dean who revoked the order this time.

'I'll have her,' he stated. 'And the colt.'

'But after,' Sam asked, 'we're gonna meet up, right? Use the gun together . . . right?'

John held his tongue, and avoided the piercing gazes of his sons. The meaning was clearer than ever.

'You're leaving again, aren't you?' Sam articulated. 'You still wanna go after the demon alone?'

Here we go again.

'You know I don't get you. You can't treat us like this.'

'Like what?'