The Darkest Road {Supernatural: Book Two}

Chapter Twelve: Jealousy

I decided to spit out a short update to hold you guys over for a little bit. I'm in Chicago right now, so I've just been busy, but here's a little filler for you guys :)

Chapter Twelve: Jealousy

"Oh how strong can you 
With matters of the heart?
Life is much too short
To while away with tears
If only you could see just what you do to me
Oh jealousy you tripped me up
Jealousy you brought me down
You bring me sorrow you cause me pain
Jealousy when will you let go?
Gotta hold of my possessive mind
Turned me into a jealous kind."

Back at the hotel room, I was bouncing from back and forth from Dean to Sam, healing up all their cuts and injuries from the fight with Alastair. Demons had always been a fear of mine for as long as they had chased me, but until I met the Winchesters it was always flight, never fight. I liked having the option now, even when it came to scary bastards like Alastair and Samhain. It was amazing being able to stand my ground now.

     I was perched at the edge of Sam's bed, my hand on his shoulder; he'd gotten a very deep cut from the stain glass window, and it had only just stopped bleeding when we got settled into the hotel room. I frowned at the faded scar it left behind once I'd finished healing it, but I had to remember it was only one of many scars he'd accumulated. Dean's injuries had been a little bit more severe, but they'd been things that weren't cosmetic, like all the injuries in his face from facing Alastair's ruthless hand.

     Dean picked up a whiskey bottle from the nightstand and took a long draft of it. Sam's mouth quirked at the sight, "You know, if I was still doing my own stitches after every fight, I'd be stuck pouring Dean's emergency hooch over my cuts."

     "We're just so lucky to have our own personal nurse," Dean said sarcastically. "So we don't waste good drinking alcohol on wounds."

     ["I guess alcoholism runs in the family," Oz snorted.]

     "I won't comment on that," I replied, raising an eyebrow at Dean. As much as it pained me, Oz's internal comment about the drinking habits of the Winchesters was a sad truth, but I would never disrespect John's memory by thinking of him that way.

     "So, you lost the magic knife, huh?" Dean asked, straight-faced.

     "How was I supposed to know it wouldn't work on him?" I scowled grumpily.

     "Hey, come on, she saved your ass," Sam said in my defense. "Who the hell was that demon?"

     "No one good," said Dean, his expression becoming far off and hard to read. "We got to find Anna."

     "Ruby's got her. I'm sure she's okay," said Sam, trying to sound reassuring and not realizing he made it worse.

     "You sure about Ruby?" said Dean, beginning to pace the floor. His breathing was still a little labored, but he seemed to be doing much better now. "'Cause I think it's just as likely she used us to find radio girl and then brought that demon in to kill us."

     "No, she took Anna to keep her safe," He insisted.

     "Yeah, because she's such a great ally to have," I muttered sarcastically.

     "That demon is probably watching us right now, waiting to follow us right back to Anna again," Sam reasoned, making me roll my eyes. "That's why he let us go."

     "You call this letting us go?" Dean asked incredulously; I was definitely feeling pulled to Dean's side of the argument this time;  Alastair's intent had clearly been to maim us, and we'd only barely escaped.