Generations's (Spin Off/ Book FOUR)

Scribe

Kali:

We had a kitchen, and it was the best thing ever. The boys were really not used to home cooked meals, so I did my best with what they bought in, and then made up some dinner, and brought it to them in the library. 

"Alright, here we go. Khalilah Holmes' Special steak with cheesy mash and fried runner beans, that I did cheat and buy. But you boys actually needed to eat vegetables occasionally. There you go." I set down the trays in front of them, and when Dean tucked in, Sam pushed his away. "OK, I did a 36 hour shift in the psych ward at the hospital, and I know how to get anorexics to eat. I will do the whole aeroplane thing if I have to. When was the last time you ate?"

"I- I don't..."

"Days, Sam." Dean told him with a mouthful of beans. "It's been three days."

At which point I grabbed my doctors bag, we actually carry those, and took out a thermometer. "When'd you get that?"

Seriously? You had to ask, Sammy? "I spent around a year working as a doctor, idiot. You're throwing off heat waves, so sit still and buck up."

He threw back the blanket and stood up on shaky legs. "Enough, Dean, Kali. Please."

"The bloody handkerchiefs, the fever, the shaky legs... this is not good. Just let her do her thing, bro."

"Well, I'm not good. And I'm not going to be good until we can start moving again." Sam told us firmly. "Until I can start the third trial."

You had to be kidding me, dude. "Trial? I wouldn't let you start a moped, let alone my bike. We're on the rails with this thing, okay, and the only way out of it is through it, believe me, I know. I'm missing Suzy, because of the Demons, so you know how bad I wanna slam the door on all those sons of bitches. But you gotta let me take care of you, man. You gotta let me help you get your strength back. You helped me, now let me help you."

Sammy shook his head, long hair swishing. "This isn't a cold. Or a fever, or addiction, or whatever it is you're supposed to feed. This is part of it all. Those first two trials... they're not just things I did. They're doing something to me. They're changing me, Dean, Khalilah."

Only then Dean's phone buzzed, and he looked at it. "It's Kevin."

"Finally."

He opened it on the laptop, and it read WATCH THIS VIDEO NOW. So we did. "Sam, Dean. Maybe Khalilah if she ever makes a miraculous appearance. I've set up this message with some software on a remote server so it'd send itself to you if I didn't reset it with a command once a week. Which means I didn't reset it this week. And there's only one reason I wouldn't. Which means if you're watching this, then I... then I— I'm dead. I'm dead, you bastards! So screw you, screw God and everybody in between!! Then he paused for a moment. "Crowley must've gotten to me. And the one thing I know is that I won't break this time. Not sure how I know, but— but I do. I've been uploading all my notes, the translations, I'm sending you the links so you can get all of it. You guys are gonna have to try to figure out the rest. So fucking well get your girlfriend back! You love her man!" No, he didn't. "I'm sorry." Kevin was tearing up now. "I know it was my job, but I— but I couldn't... I'm sorry."

And now Dean angrily swiped a stack of books off the table. "Damn it!"

The man I loved, my ex partner, then walked out for a while as I tried to hack through his system, seeing if there was anything I could do to help, to see if there was any other reason that he could have not reset the thingy, and printed out the notes as Sam started to sleep again. "Garth still MIA?" I asked Dean as he hung up the phone, nodding. "I can't sense anything, no Godlike things. So no new Prophets, either. All we have is this." His notes.