On Borrowed Time

8. Seals

PART ONE: RUN

CHAPTER EIGHT: SEALS

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TEAM WINCHESTER, STULL , USA

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There was the sound of gunshots, yelling, and a familiar sentence that had haunted her for the last year - 'she's got what he had, what you took and he won't settle until it's his again. Remember that Dean-o, next time you decide to play with prophecies or our mutual friend Azazel might not." But most memorably, a terrible, terrible taste in her mouth.

"Felicity! Felicity!" She felt warm hands grab her and she was lifted from the ground, held protectively against someone. Cold water splattered against her face and she blinked once and then twice and recognized the jawline that appeared in her immediately line of sight.

"Dean?" she croaked, her mouth feeling thick and her mind feeling heavy and unclear. "He said, he said... the thing," she mumbled and she felt him relax.

"Hey don't worry about that now," he urged but the husky tone of his voice made Felicity look up at him again. The wet trails that ran down his cheeks were undoubtedly tears and she suddenly knew she had missed something very, very important. He demanded the keys to the Impala and made sure she was tucked into the back with a blanket and the heat was on before peeling out of the cemetery at such a speed she was certain it must have been sacrilege.

"Where's Sam?" she asked, but Dean was silent as he gripped the steering wheel tight.

"Do you feel alright?" he demanded, his voice thin and strained as though it might crack at any moment. Was he nervous?

"What happened?" She asked, ignoring his redirected question.

"Nothing different?"

She sighed, realizing he was never going to answer anything unless she answered first. She sat up and wrapped the blanket around her tight, fixing her off-kilter glasses. "I'm fine Dean," the slight fogginess she had experienced at coming back to consciousness lifted. "You learned something about what the Meta-wolf said," she responded- a statement, not a question.

Dean remained silent for a moment as he continued to drive the Impala down the wet streets of the small town. "I found out where Sam is," he finally answered and Felicity felt her chest tighten as she shot forward to clasp the back of his seat.

"What? Where? Is he alright?" she demanded, the blanket falling to the wayside now. He glanced back towards her and frowned before reaching up and prying her fingers off of the headrest.

"Don't break the headrest," he chastised, and she let go immediately.

"Where is he?" she demanded, refusing to sit back.

"Sit back, you're distracting," he demanded and she leaned forward as for as her position would allow her. "I swear Felicity, if you don't sit back I - what are you doing?" she pulled herself over the top of the seats, her thin frame allowing her to make the move in the small space.

"Feli- hey! Get your butt-" the car swerved and she let out a small yelp as she nearly toppled headfirst into the dashboard. When the car resumed it's steady line she hauled herself the rest of the way over, flipping into the front seat with a grin and a sigh of accomplishment.

Dean glowered, shooting her a deadly look as he straightened his jacket clearly unhappy. "I've died numerous times but you, you Smoak-"

"Winchester," she corrected easily.