So Fell the Angels - Supernatural Fanfic/Fanfiction (Castiel Fan Fiction)

Chapter 11: Just Follow the Yellow Brick Road

Chapter 11: Just Follow the Yellow Brick Road

 

Tabitha snorts at her brothers, but keeps her hands held up in the universal gesture of surrender. When neither of them moves or cracks a smile, she narrows her eyes suspiciously and tells them, "Alright, ha ha, guys. You're hilarious. Now put the damn guns away and tell me where all my shit is. Is it in the car or something?"

Sam and Dean exchange brief looks before Sam tells her, "Your stuff is probably wherever you left it, lady. That doesn't explain what you're doing half-dressed in our room."

Sam lowers his gun a bit as he leans forward to inspect her, and then he turns to Dean, demanding, "Is she some chick you slept with? Is that why she's wearing your shirt?"

Dean leans forward as well, lowering his gun to his waist. He shrugs then as he bites his lower lip and sheepishly admits, "I don't know. Maybe. I don't remember her. And you'd think I would. She's pretty hot, especially wearing my shirt."

"Ewww!" Tabitha exclaims, grossed out by such comments from her own brothers. "That's just wrong. This little joke the two of you cooked up has gone way beyond funny into sick territory, guys. So knock it off. You don't say shit like that about your sister. And the only reason I'm wearing Dean's shirt instead of one of yours, Sam, is that I'm not a ten-foot tall Sasquatch."

"'Sister?'" Sam repeats in an incredulous tone, then turns to lower his voice for Dean. "Yup, probably one you slept with. You always have a knack for bagging the crazies."

Sam sputters suddenly as another thought hits him, demanding, "Wait, how'd you even know our names?"

"I do not," Dean protests over his brother's question, then turns to face Tabitha again, waving his hand at her and then the door. "I don't know what game you're playing here, sister," he says, his tone using the word ironically, "but we've got important work to do and we can't be hampered with a case of the crazies. So, out you go. Run along back to the cuckoo's nest."

An unsettling emotion settles over Tabitha.

"You guys aren't bullshitting me, are you?" she asks in a horrified whisper, her stomach suddenly settling heavily at her feet.

"Uh, no," Sam answers her, exchanging another measured look with Dean.

"I don't think we're in Kansas anymore, Toto," she mutters to herself.

Tabitha collapses onto the foot of one of the beds, her hand flying to her side at the pain that shoots across her muscles with the sudden motion.

"How is this possible?" she whispers to herself in a pain-ragged voice. "How could my own brothers not remember me?"

When no answers come to mind, she looks back up at the two men shifting uncomfortably as they stare down at her.

"How can my own brothers not remember me?" she miserably asks them.

Sam seems to decide that she's not a threat and slides his gun back into his waistband, and then he speaks to her in a tone usually reserved for the bereaved or the crazy. "Look, I'm not sure what's going on with you, ma'am, but we're not your brothers. We don't know you. We don't even have a sister." He sighs and then crouches down to bring himself closer to her level as he asks, "Is there someone we can call for you?"

Annoyed by his tone with her, Tabitha glares at her brother and snaps, "Yeah, you can call my brothers, Sam and Dean Winchester. They were born in Lawrence, Kansas, to John and Mary Winchester. Same as me."

Dean steps forward, clapping a hand on his younger brother's shoulder to yank him back as his gun comes up to train threateningly on her again. "I knew something was off with you," he demands suspiciously. "Who the hell are you, and how do you know our real names and so much about us? Are you a demon?"