"Well I was sleeping," I said nonchalantly, pulling at the frayed tear of my jeans so it didn't touch my sore stitches. "But now I'm talking to you guys, I guess."
His expression said he definitely did not find me funny, as did Sam's.
"I hid in here when you guys went after those kids," I admitted, hoping their expressions would soften or at least change in the slightest. They didn't.
"We're taking you home," Dean said finally, his hand on the gear shift in a millisecond. I leapt forward, grabbing his hand and then jumping away when I realized what I was doing. At least he'd stopped moving.
"Wait, please," I begged, sitting on the edge of my seat. "You really were just gunna leave me there, at some girl's house that I hardly knew after I lost everyone I loved?"
Dean glared again, and it was quite obvious he was untouched by my sob story. I kept going hastily. "Seriously, though, I have no close friends. I'm about to graduate--"
"Which is a perfect reason that we should take you home." Sam's voice was as angry as Dean's, but he looked a bit more understanding.
"No, listen to me." I still sounded pleading, which I was grateful for. "It's my eighteenth birthday. Are you really going to make me celebrate that alone?"
"You suck at guilttripping." Dean's hand moved on the gearshift and I almost stopped him again, but saw his expression and stopped short.
"I'm begging you guys. Begging you. Don't take me back there. Let me come with you guys, do what you do. Please." I found myself fighting tears, oddly not wanting to break down though it might help my case. I didn't want Dean to see me cry. I wanted him to think I was strong.
Sam glanced at Dean, unspoken words in his eyes, and I dug my nails into the seat, hoping what they were thinking was a good thing. I quickly remembered how important the upholstery was, though, and loosened my grip.
They were quiet for too long, and I couldn't hold my tongue. "I don't really know what you guys are thinking and I want to plead my case a bit longer before you choose--"
Dean silenced me with a look, and I gritted my teeth, my eyes still burning with the threat of tears. Finally, Sam turned to me.
"Are you doing this because you want revenge?"
"No." Yes. "I just don't want to be left all alone--"
"Bull." Dean did not look at all swayed, though Sam was starting to, so I looked back at him. He kept going.
"I get it. Your family's gone, and you wanna go after the things that killed them, right? We know. We've been there." Dean looked at Sam in outrage as if he'd revealed some super-secret information, but Sam ignored him. "You can't get hooked up on this. Go home, graduate, go find that cousin whose name you can't remember. We can't help you with anything."
"You can help me kill those vampires, though," I said swiftly, putting little thought into my words and focusing more on the groveling aspect of them. "Even if you don't, I've got nothing else to live for. Maybe I can just stay with you until we find them, and then kill them, and then you can bring me back. Anything, please, just let me stay."
"We're not going after them. We don't seek specific stuff out, except on rare occasions. And there's a lot more to killing vampires than you think. Not only are you emotionally unready, you're not strong enough and--"
"And there's no way in hell." Dean still looked angry that Sam was being so nice to the point of almost seeming like he wanted to give in, and Sam was still ignoring him. "You don't even know us, kid. What if we're rapists or something?"
