Fighter: Dean Winchester (REVAMPED VERSION)

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Nadia ran her fingers over the edges of her leather-bound journal, her mind swirling with thoughts that refused to settle. The crisp Spring morning had yet to warm, leaving a chill in the air that seeped into her bones. She hunched over in the passenger seat of the Impala, the smell of aged leather and faint traces of engine oil grounding her.

She wrote in a steady hand, the act of journaling one of the few things that brought her clarity these days.

May '09

I haven't had time to journal these last couple of days. So much is going on, and I can barely put it into words. I forgive Dean for not talking to me before he gave himself up to the angels. I had to because he's right—I'm holding back. I should have told him about Michael right then and there, but with tensions so high, and after what had just happened with Sam... I couldn't bring myself to do it.

I'm scared. There's a clock ticking in my head, knowing the angels. Michael could cash in at any minute. Anna hasn't reached out—I can't sense her anywhere. I know I felt Castiel last night.

Something is going on, and it's happening right under our noses. I just don't know what. Anyway, I can't think about that right now.

Right now, the plan is to get Sam back. And if I'm honest... I'm worried about that too.

Nadia snapped the journal shut, the sound cutting through the quiet of the morning. She locked it, tucking it into the passenger seat behind her. For a long moment, she sat silently behind the wheel, her legs dangling out of the open door.

Dean was under the hood, the sound of tools clicking against metal punctuating the stillness. He worked with practiced precision, wiping grease from his hands every so often.

The chill bit through her jacket, finally prompting her to slide out of the car and shut the door behind her. Leaning against the side of the hood, she crossed her arms, watching him. Dean glanced up, sensing she was about to speak, his green eyes catching hers briefly before he returned to the engine.

"You know, it's not going to be easy," she said after a beat, her voice soft but steady.

Dean didn't look up this time, his attention still on the task in front of him. "What?"

"Killing Ruby."

That got his attention. Dean straightened slightly, his gaze flicking to hers.

"Hear me, Dean," Nadia continued, turning to fully face him. "Your brother is an addict. Demon blood is the drug, and Ruby is his dealer. He's not just going to let you kill her."

Dean pulled his head out from under the hood, his full attention now on her.

"I hate Ruby just as much as you," she said, her voice hardening. "But in Sam's state, he's going to protect her at all costs. Whatever that looks like for him. You won't believe how far someone in Sam's state of mind is willing to go. Prepare yourself."

Dean held her gaze for a long moment, her words sinking in. He finally nodded, his voice quieter than before. "Yeah. I hear you, Robin."

Nadia's stance softened slightly, the tension between them easing.

The sound of the back door creaking broke the moment as Bobby stepped outside, his hands stuffed into his pockets. "Police found my car," he announced. "Abandoned in an alley in Jamestown, North Dakota."

Dean grabbed a rag to wipe his hands, the familiar rhythm grounding him. "He's switching it up," he said, nodding for Bobby to continue.

"Two cars were stolen in Jamestown," Bobby went on. "1999 Honda Civic, blue. Nice and anonymous, like Sam likes."