"Okay, tell me what you've got."
I leaned back in the seat, one leg crossed over the other and phone pressed to my ear.
"It's not great but they've managed to get her intubated," Sam replied, though I could hear the worried edge in his voice.
"Well that's good at least," I sighed, pinching the bridge of my nose.
"Yeah, they say we just barely made it but they still need to run tests on how extensive it is."
"As in if it's affecting her insides?"
"Pretty much, they're worried they'll be taking over her organs."
"Great, it seems they like to keep your organs in potential danger," I said while narrowing my eyes, shooting a look towards the two witches huddle over a book on the opposite side of the room.
Sam let out a short laugh.
"It's not that bad, you look fine."
I flustered for a couple of seconds, unable to stop a gentle smile from taking over my initial frustrated frown.
"Thank you."
"Yeah," he paused and let the moment before clearing his throat. "Anyway, any update on your end?"
"No major breakthrough, they think they may be able to work some magic and help Abbi but it's only a maybe, I also think it's best they perform whatever spell they have in the hospital room, supervised by one of us."
Sam let out a long breath as voices passed him in the background.
I could picture him standing outside in the dark, watching them go past before turning away to shield the conversation.
"Might be an idea, anything on Dean?"
"No, we'll be heading out shortly to look for him?"
"We? All three of you?"
"I've made it pretty clear to them that I still don't trust them, especially given that their head witch seems to be on a murderous rampage against her own underlings."
"Understandable, okay, give me a call when you leave, yeah?"
"You got it."
"Great, be careful."
"You too."
Pulling the phone away, I hung up and then tucked it back onto my jacket pocket, directing my attention towards the two women who were now watching me with small smirks.
"Don't give me that look."
"Come on," Camille said with a sly smile, "I knew our little trick would be a hit."
I scoffed and rolled my eyes, "Not with me it isn't, thanks for the repeat trauma and death of my self-esteem."
"Bu-"
"No, no buts, and or ifs, you better fix this when the main issue is over, it doesn't matter what Sam thinks about it."
They both shared a look that I couldn't quite decipher, but I didn't like it either way.
"Oh, you can also give Dean his luxuriously bad diet back, it's obvious the distractions aren't working."
"It got some of the other hunters off our back," Naomi shrugged, leaning back in her seat.
"Yeah well, in case you haven't heard, we're not other hunters and you lot aren't the worst witches we've dealt with but you're our problem now."
My little tirade is interrupted by a rapid knock on the door, which has the witches looking at each other in panic as they both stand up.
"It could be the head," Naomi said.
Camille stood silently, staring towards the drawn curtains while wringing her hands.
"Or," I drawled out while standing myself, "it could be Dean."
I looked towards the door, worrying my lip between my teeth before nodding in resolution.
"You should answer it, I'll find somewhere to stand out of the way in case it's her."
Naomi nodded and then strode past me.
I spared a glance towards Camille who watched over her while worrying her bottom lip between her teeth, then I stepped into the kitchen and pressed myself against the wall beside the doorway.
It had already been quite a night and I wasn't in the mood to linger around on this case, yet it seemed to be going deeper than we had thought with both benign witches and a mentor set out to kill.
Dean was right, witches really were the worst.