𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐀 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 - 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟗

Maricela's POV

Dean had taken Kevin to a motel in Branson for a few days while Sam and I stayed at the bunker. After everything that's happened these past few weeks, Dean and I decided to take a little break ourselves. Sam—of course—had questions that I didn't know how to answer. Pretending that Dean never told me anything seemed to cease his inquiries—to me, at least. I knew he was waiting for his brother to get home to fill in the blanks. So, after attempting and failing to get more demon names from Crowley, I try to distract Sam.

"Saaammmm!" I whined as I walked towards the Winchester.

He sat on one of the chairs in front of the Map Table, documents from the Men of Letters scattered before him.

"Hmm?" He hummed, eyes scanning over the records before scribbling in his notepad.

I wrap my arms around his neck from behind and nuzzle my face against his. "Take a break—watch a movie with me."

He taps my forearm gently, replying, "I can't. I have to find a way to help Cas."

"Trust me, I want nothing more than Cas to be here, but he doesn't need us burnt out before we can help. Let's just take a little break." My arms falter from their position before straightening my posture. I lean against the table, finishing my persuasion with, "It'll still be here in a couple of hours—I'll even let you pick out the movie."

He puts his pen down, then swivels his chair to face me entirely. His lips purse as he ponders my proposition. With my head tilted to the side, my brows slightly pinched, and pleading eyes peeking through my lashes, a tiny frown ties my puppy dog look together. Despite his dithering, I knew he couldn't say no to me. With a heavy sigh, he throws his hands up in defeat.

Sam stands from his seat and mutters, "Fine."

"Yay!" I cheer, already walking towards the kitchen. "I'll grab the snacks while you get the movie ready."

Heading straight towards the shelves, which held all nonperishable foods, I reach for the snacks only Sam and I would consume. I grab the Jiffy Pop popcorn and bring it to the stove. Just as I was about to ignite the burner, the door to the bunker slammed closed. The men's voices carry into the kitchen. My heart flutters at the return of the eldest brother. Self-consciously, I tuck my curtain bangs behind my ears and straighten my clothing.

A light blush rushes to my cheeks, embarrassed about getting this flustered over a man. I wait a few moments, allowing the pinkness a chance to fade. Once the flush subsides, I focus on why I came into the kitchen in the first place. Deciding not to cook the kernels, I leave the gathered food on the island and walk toward the War Room. Dean stood with his arms crossed, listening to his younger brother.

They look underneath the table before Sam says, "You're never gonna believe what we found."

"You showing him the computer?" I ask and get a nod from the younger Winchester.

I follow behind the boys as Sam leads us to the new room we found earlier. He opens the door and flips the light switch, revealing a humongous machine in the middle of the room. It had at least a hundred buttons that lined the board.

"Voilà."

"This is a computer?" asked Dean.

"Yeah—or it was in 1951, when it was installed." We circled to the back of the machine as Sam raised his finger like Velma would often do when talking, continuing our discovery. "Now, here's the crazy thing. It's not plugged into anything. I mean, I have no idea what's making this thing work."

Dean runs his hand along the side of the metal, stopping to say, "It's warm here."

Sam puts his hand where his brother implied, feeling the heat for himself. Dean used his fingers to try opening the panel to the computer's back but had no luck. I look at the shelves of miscellaneous items before finding a flathead screwdriver and handing it to Dean. He takes it, then turns around to jam the tool into the back of the computer. The metal creaks, refusing to open, but Dean jimmies harder. Suddenly, the panel clatters to the floor, and Dean stubbles into the wall and shelves behind him.