Solivagant

Chapter Eighteen

"You make us sound like a dysfunctional family."

"That's because we are Sam"

Sam smacks the window frustratedly whilst Dean smoothly pulls off for us to tail the blue cheap car belonging to the strange kid. Whilst Dean remains a short distance away, I climb over the seat and into the passenger side despite Dean's grumbling. "I distinctively recall that being easier", I murmur gazing over the dashboard nostalgically.

"Yeah", Dean hums in a huff "I remember telling you a thousand times to go around."

"And I remember not listening to you a single time", I smartly retort with a plastered smile. Dean mocks me in my voice for a second before we fall into a comfortable silence, our attention taken by where the blue car could think to be going. Yet when the car leads us through the suburbs of the city I begin to grow increasingly curious. The kid looks harmless to me. As the car slows beside the curb next to a girl Dean cautiously pulls over. Getting out I watch the kid hand the girl a bouquet of flowers which she gratefully takes with a smile. "He bought her a bouquet from the grocery store", I deadpan cynically, sparing Dean a look "How dare he."

Following the car as the kid pulls back out onto the road, Dean ignores my attitude "Something is giving these people signs to murder specific targets. If Sam saw a sign we should trust it." As I hum along to Dean's words, he adds sparing me a glance "Even if he thinks it's one of God's feathered men." We fall once more before Dean mentions "Mom use to believe in Angels."

Curiously I sit up a little straighter, dropping my arm that had been leaning against the window "She did?"

"She use to tell me when she tucked me in at night that Angels are watching over me. Was the last thing she said to me", Dean admits with a sad glint to his eye. But there's a fondness. A quality that was always there if he brought up Mary when we were younger. He'd never speak about it but I'd be lucky enough to catch a comment here and there. Sometimes spoken to Sam. Other times to himself. But what was always constant was the love you can see he holds for her and the sorrow Dean still feels for losing her. The look soon disappears as we turn a corner after a couple of kids, Dean mentions to me with an indifferent shake of his head "She needed protecting that night. Mom had faith in the higher power and yet nothing came to save her." Gaze flickering to me, Dean states "That's why I don't believe. What's your excuse?"