The next day, the boys and I head towards the motel. "Little help here?" Bobby asked, annoyed, and I forgot...to get to the motel we have to go up an incline. So I go and push Bobby up. "You know, I still think Sam or I should play." I said. "No, no, no. Neither of you are good enough. I'm better. Bobby's way better. We both lost." Dean said. "Exactly." Bobby said.
"So, what? So (y/n) and I don't get a say in this?" Sam asked, annoyed. "Sammy, when you get to be our age—" Dean said and I give a look of disbelief at Dean. "You're thirty, Dean!" I shouted, annoyed. "Look, I've watched you hustle plenty of poker—" I started to say but Bobby talks over me.
"Knowing the game is not enough, (y/n). It's not about playing the cards." He said. "It's about playing the other guy. I know that." I said. "Well, hooray for you. All I'm saying is, I played this guy. I know his style. I can take him." Bobby said. "No, Bobby. You don't have enough years in the bank." Dean said. "I got enough." Bobby mumbles. "No, you'll die if you lose, Bobby." Sam said.
"So what if I do, huh? What exactly am I living for, huh? The damn apocalypse? Watching men die bloody while I sit in this chair, can't take a step to help 'em?" Bobby asked, angrily. "Bobby—" Dean said, exasperated. "No, no. It's the facts. I'm old...and broke down...and I can't..." Bobby stops to take a moment to breathe. "I ain't a hunter no more. I'm useless. And if I wasn't such a coward, I'd have stuck a gun in my mouth day I got home from the hospital." Bobby admits and all of us fall silent.
"Bobby, you are not playing again. I'm not letting you do that. There's another way out of this. There's got to be. And I'm gonna find it." I said and I walk pass the boys, angrily.
*3rd Person POV*
Dean opens the door so Bobby can roll in, then Sam and Dean walk in as Bobby looks up and stops abruptly. Lia, Patrick's assistant, is sitting on the bed, holding up a piece of paper. "Take it. It'll help you." she said and Bobby rolls closer and takes it.
"What is this?" he asked. "The most powerful reversal spell you've ever laid your eyes on." she replied. "And it reverses what?" Sam asked. "Patrick's work—all of it." Lia replied. "You—you saying I could be normal again?" Dean asked. "You and everyone else he's ever played. Who's still alive." Lia said, correcting herself at that last part.
"Why the hell should we trust you?" Dean asked her. "Trust me, don't trust me. I don't care. The spell is real." she said and she gets up and heads for the door. "If it zaps everyone, don't that include your man?" Bobby asked her. "And me, too. I look good for my age." she said.
"Lady, this don't add up for squat. Why would you want that?" Bobby asked her, suspiciously. "I have my reasons." Lia replied then she looks at her silver locket. "Do it quick. We leave town tomorrow." she said and she leaves. Dean, Sam and Bobby watch her go, then look at each other.
Meanwhile, under the bar, Patrick chews on a toothpick, a glass of whiskey in front of him. On the table are five cards in a row, the eight of spades, five and four of clubs, king of diamonds, and jack of hearts, and a pile of poker chips, about three dozen. His opponent, an old man named Hesh, clinks his poker chips against each other (he has at most ten), looking at his two face-down cards.
Patrick looks at his own cards: the kings of hearts and spades, for three of a kind. Hesh has the nines of clubs and diamonds for one pair and he throws a few chips on the pile. "Bet." Hesh said and Patrick takes out his toothpick.
"I sense you've got me by the jewels on this one, Hesh. I fold." Be said and Hesh collects his chips. "What are you up—like thirteen years there, Hesh? What do you say we call it a day?" Patrick said and Hesh chuckles. "Thanks, Patrick." he said and Patrick looks up.
"Hesh here is gonna live to see his granddaughter's bat mitzvah." Patrick said and Hesh turns around to see who he was talking to. It is (y/n). "Isn't that right, Hesh?" Patrick asked Hesh, who turns back to him. "Thanks again, Patrick." Hesh said. "Shalom, my friend. Shalom." Patrick said and Hesh gets up and leaves.
Patrick then shuffles the cards. "That was nice of you." (y/n) said. "I'm a nice guy. What can I do you for, miss?" he asked as he keeps shuffling then (y/n) sits down. "Deal." she said and Patrick smirks at her. "And your name?" He asked her. "(Y/n)." She replied.
At the cemetery, Bobby sits at the foot of a grave while Dean and Sam dig. "Jawbone of a murderer. Great." Dean grumbles as he sticks the shovel in the dirt, breathing hard. "You know, this really sucks. How do we even know her spell's gonna work?" Dean asked. "We don't. But we ain't got a Plan B. Now, less flappin' and more diggin'." Bobby yells and Dean goes to move another scoop of dirt while Sam keeps going.
Then something cracks. "Oh, God!" Dean moans and Bobby rolls his eyes while Sam shakes his head and continues to dig. "My elbows! I'm all creaky." Dean moans. "Hurry up, you crybaby." Bobby spat at him. "Pound it up your ass, Ironsides." Dean growls.
"One little grave. And you got your brother helping you." Bobby said. "Then you do it." Dean said. "Fine. I'll hop right in." Bobby said, sarcastically. "Guys." Sam said, exasperated, but Dean and Bobby continue to argue. "Well, least your legs are numb." Dean sneers. "Shut up and dig, Grandma." Bobby spat and Dean goes back to digging.
"Oh! Now it's my back!" Dean groans,m as he leans forward and Sam sighs, annoyed. "Can you straighten up?" Bobby asked him. "Yeah, but a little sympathy wouldn't hurt." Dean said. "Butt cheek tingling?" Bobby asked Dean and he turns to him. "Well, that's kind of personal." Dean said.
"So yeah?" Bobby said, questioning, and Dean looks up. "It's sciatica. You'll live. Keep digging." Bobby said, not caring, and Dean glares at him. "You know, Bobby, killing you is officially on my bucket list." Dean said and Sam looks over at him. "Dean, can we just hurry and get this done. I don't know how much longer (y/n) can keep him distracted." Sam said as he continues to dig.
"I still don't like that (y/n) is playing that game." Dean grumbles as he goes back to digging. “She insisted.” Sam said. “That woman can be real stubborn sometimes.” Dean grumbled. “I wonder where she gets that from.” Sam teased and Dean shoots him a dirty look.
"Anyway, I trust her. Between the two of us, I think (y/n) has a better chance with him." Sam said. “Geez, why don’t you marry her?” Dean said, sarcastically. “Not her type. She seems to be into 70 year old men.” Sam joked and Dean glares at him again. “Cut that chitchat, boys, and keep digging.” Bobby ordered.
Patrick chews on his toothpick, he has a glass of whiskey on the table, two cards in his hand, and several stacks of chips. Several chips are piled in the middle of the table next to the four of diamonds, a red court card, a black seven, the three of hearts, and a black two. He takes the toothpick out.
"I like you, (y/n). I do. You're smart, and your heart's clearly in the right place." He said but (y/n) doesn't respond. Then Patrick throws down his toothpick and drinks his whiskey. "I can tell a lot about a person by looking." He said. "You mean you're psychic." (y/n) said and Patrick snorts a laugh. "No. That'd be cheating. I'm talking about good old-fashioned intuition." he said and (y/n) nods.
"Right. Let's just play." she said as Patrick drinks more whiskey. "We are playing." he said and he puts the glass down next to the toothpick. "Does your boyfriend know you're here?" Patrick asked her, suspiciously. "Bet five." (y/n) said as she drops a stack of five chips on the pile. She has a lot fewer chips left than Patrick. "Didn't think so." Patrick said, smiling.
He puts one stack of five on another and adds that stack to the pile. "I raise. Here you are, right? Trying to clean up their mess, and they still want to sit you at the kiddie table." Patrick said and (y/n) looks down.
"You're not a little girl anymore, (y/n)." Patrick tells her as he toys with a few chips. (Y/n) looks up at him as he continues. "Then again, maybe you are. You're in over your head here, (y/n). I mean, you can keep making these moves—you know, playing it cautious, playing the percentages. But I'm still gonna kick your ass into the nursing home." Patrick taunts.
"Does this armchair-psychology routine usually work for you?" (Y/n) asked and Patrick laughs. "You tell me. You're the one who's losing." Patrick said as he chews his toothpick.
A little later, Patrick shuffles the cards, chewing his toothpick. He has thirty or thirty-five chips and (y/n) fifteen or twenty. She plays with a few of her chips while Lia walks in. Patrick puts down the toothpick and Lia leans down to kiss Patrick. Patrick looks at (y/n) and winks. "Little break?" he asked and (y/n) nods.
(Y/n) bursts out of doors that reads EMMIT'S PUB DELIVERY RING. She looks around and spots Dean. "How's it going in there?" he asked her and she scoffs. "How do you think it's going? What about you? You have everything you need?" (y/n) asked him and he nods. "We still need a little he-witch DNA." Dean said and (y/n) holds up a toothpick
"He was chewing it." she said as Dean takes it. "Hurry up, Dean. Please." She pleads and Dean grins a bit. "You know, I love it when you beg." He said and (y/n) rolls her eyes. "Oh, God." She groans. "Yeah, just like that!" Dean teased and (y/n) glares at him. "Shut up!" She said.
“You know, if we weren’t so pressed for time I would suggested a quickie behind that dumpster.” Dean said, pointing the toothpick towards a nearby dumpster. “Get out of here, you pig!” (Y/n) commanded and she turns to walk back towards the door. "Besides, your old ass couldn't keep up with me." She teased, looking over her shoulder and winking at Dean, before heading back inside and leaving Dean standing there, stunned and a little turned on.
Oh, when I get back to normal, she's gonna get it... Dean thought as he turned then started rubbing his sore arm from all the digging he had to do.
(Y/n) plays with her chips when Patrick sits back down. Lia stands behind Patrick, who pushes the deck of cards across the table.
"Airmidh mi air maponus, dia na hogalachd. Gairmidh mi air sucellus, dia na time." Bobby recites, reading from Lia's paper while Sam and Dean stand at the bowl full of burning things. Dean throws a handful of an item in the flames, which flare up blue.
"Till an-dràsda obair uile gu bheilair a bhith deànta. Mar sin bitheadh." Bobby said then he looks up at Dean. "Drop it in." he tells Dean, who looks at the toothpick and adds it to the fire.
"Well? How do I look?" Dean asked after a moment of silence but Bobby and Sam don't reply. The truthful answer is eighty years old.
Back at the bar, Patrick looks at (y/n). "Question." Patrick said and he holds up a toothpick. "Is this what you meant to give your boyfriend?" Patrick asked her but (y/n) doesn't let her expression change. Lia flicks a glance at the toothpick.
"The one you gave him never passed my lips. Won't do a scrap of good." Patrick growls and he throws the toothpick across the table. "I don't like cheating, (y/n)." Patrick said, in a threatening tone, then he stretches out his hand and clenches a fist. (y/n) stiffens, gasping for breath, while Lia watches. (y/n) puts a hand to her throat.
"Stop it!" Lia shouts as she grabs Patrick's wrist. "Patrick, let her go!" Lia shouts. "She tried to kill us!" Patrick yells. "I did it! I gave her the spell!" Lia shouts at him. Patrick, shocked, releases (y/n) and looks up at Lia as (y/n) gasps in air.
"What?" he asked her as he stands up and touches Lia's face. "Why...why would you do that?" he asked her, upset. "You know why." Lia said then she touches her silver locket. "You know." she whispers and Patrick looks away for a moment, then sits down.
"Keep. Playing." Patrick mutters and Lia looks away while (y/n) glances at her.
Bobby is driving his van while Dean is sitting next to him and Sam in the backseat. "Everything we put in that spell was kosher." Bobby said. "Yeah, everything except the damn toothpick." Dean said. "You two got to go get a speck of DNA. Strap on your track shoes." Bobby said as he looks at Dean, who rolls his eyes. "Oh, goody. More stairs." Dean mutters, sarcastically.
More than a dozen chips are piled next to the eight of hearts, the queens of clubs and diamonds, and the two of diamonds. Patrick discards a card and deals the ace of clubs, (y/n) has her hands folded against her mouth.
"It's too damn clean in here. First witch I ever heard of didn't spew bodily fluids all over the place." Dean said to Bobby over the phone as he and Sam look around Patrick's apartment. "Toothbrush, comb—anything." Bobby said as Sam and Dean continue to search.
(Y/n) stacks five chips next to another five next to the pile. "Well, look at you—the percentage player betting the farm. Awful transparent of you, (y/n). I mean, if I had a monster hand like you have, I'd trap you. But you get so excited, you bet yourself right out of a big pot." Patrick said then he sniffs and picks up his face-down cards. "I fold." he said as he discards his cards.
"Set of ladies, I'm guessing." Patrick said as (y/n) collects a couple dozen chips and turns over her cards: the three of clubs and five of diamonds, for one pair of queens. "Nice bluff. If we had time, I could make a real player out of you." Patrick said as (y/n) stacks her chips. "I got time." she said, sternly, and Patrick grins.
"Maybe. But I can't say the same for Dean. Your boyfriend's gonna be dead soon." Patrick taunts and (y/n) looks up at him. "And when I say soon..." Patrick said then he leans forward. "I mean minutes." He informs her and (y/n)'s expression changes, fearful, and she stands up.
Patrick extends a fist to yank her back down with witchcraft. "The game's not over till I say it is. Blinds." Patrick growls and he slaps down two chips and (y/n) one.
Dean spots a wine glass on a table, still with a little wine left undrunk. But then he starts toward it and stops. "(Y/n)..." he whispers and starts slumping on the floor, groaning. "Dean!" Sam exclaimed as he runs to his brother.
Patrick deals two face-down cards apiece. (y/n) glances at hers and adds another chip to the pot. "So." Patrick mutters as he slaps down three cards and spreads them out: the ace of spades and fours of hearts and clubs. (y/n) eyes the cards.
"When it's about your boyfriend, you get so emotional, your brain just flies right out the window." He said, illustrating with a hand gesture. "Good to know." He said, smiling. "Go to hell." (y/n) spat at him, viciously, then she shoves all her chips into the middle. "I'm all in." she said and Lia glances at her.
Patrick sighs as he checks his cards. "Don't do that, (y/n)." He said. "I can't leave until it's over? Fine. It's over. Now, where's Dean?" (Y/n) asked him, angrily. "Look, there's poker and then there's suicide." Patrick warns her. "Just play the hand." (Y/n) said.
"Sam? Dean? Boys, you there?" Bobby asked through the phone while Dean gasps, weakly. "C'mon, Dean!" Sam said, worried. "Boys?!" Bobby calls out and Sam runs to the phone. "Bobby!" Sam exclaimed once the phone gets to his ear. "What's going on?" Bobby asked as Dean starts to go still. "DEAN!" Sam screams, fearfully.
Patrick adds all his chips to the pot. "Fine." he said and he discards a card and deals the seven of diamonds and the nine of spades. (Y/n) and Patrick stare each other down, (y/n) worried, Patrick smug, Lia nervous.
Patrick turns over his face-down cards: aces of clubs and diamonds. "I'm sorry, kid. Aces full." Patrick said as (y/n) looks at the cards. Then she lets out a breath then glances at Lia. "You're crying." she said, questioning, while Lia sniffles, looking away.
"For a witch, you're so nice, it's actually kind of creepy. It's okay." (y/n) said then she looks at Patrick. "It was a great hand." she said and Patrick moves to collect the chips: the only hands that can beat a full house with three aces are a four of a kind and a straight flush. The flop cards are three different suits, so he knows (y/n) cannot possibly have a straight flush, and he knows the odds are very slim that (y/n) has the remaining two fours.
"Just—" (y/n) started to say then Patrick looks up. "—not as great as—" (y/n) said and she turns over her face-down cards, the fours of diamonds and spades. She knew she had a four of a kind from the moment the flop cards were dealt; the only way to beat a four of a kind is with a straight flush, which she knew Patrick could not possibly have.
"—as four fours." she finished and Patrick glances up at her, then down at the cards. (y/n) takes a deep breath and lets it out while Patrick leans back. "Well played. You know, that whole...going-out-of-your-head bit—very method." Patrick said and (y/n) smirk.
"Well, there's more to you than meets the eye." Patrick said as he raises his glass, (y/n) nods. "Cash these in for Dean, please." she said and Patrick nods and sets down the glass. "With pleasure." he said, smiling.
"Boys, you hear me? Damn it, boys!" Bobby shouts then he spots something inside the building and turns to look. Someone comes out the door: it's Sam then he steps aside, revealing Dean now thirty again. He holds out his arms, grinning, and does a little dance as he approaches the van.
Bobby stares as Dean jumps up, clicking his heels in the air, while Sam shakes his head. "Idjits." Bobby mumbles under his breath.
*(y/n)'s POV*
I was sitting at the motel when the door to the room opens. I look up and see Sam pushing Bobby in the room, and following him is Dean now looking his normal self. "Dean!" I said, happily, and he goes over to me, pulls me into him and kisses me.
"Well...you're welcome." I said after we break the kiss. "So...No tricks—you actually beat the guy?" Bobby asked me and I pull out of Dean's embrace and spread my arms. "How the hell?" Sam asked me as Dean grabs a burger. "Luck and...a few tricks I learned from my dad." I said, smirking, and the boys give me an impressed look. "That's my girl!" Dean said and I smile.
"Hey. I'll see y'all guys later." Sam said as he grabs his jacket. "Where you going?" Dean asked him. "Uh...mm, nowhere." Sam said and we all look at him. "A booster shot. Don't say it." Sam said and he leaves.
"Well, I guess we can get the van loaded." Bobby groans while Dean sets his burger down. He holds up a finger and clears his throat. "I shouldn't have called you an idiot." Dean said to him. "Which time?" Bobby asked him.
"I'm sorry. I mean, I actually—I, I—I get it. Getting old ain't a bachelor party. And dealing with the crap you got to deal with—" Dean said and Bobby rolls his eyes. "Don't you go on pity patrol." Bobby grumbles. "I'm not. I'm not. I'm just...I'm saying, you know, if I was in your shoes..." Dean said. "You'd never stop complaining." Bobby said and Dean stares for a moment.
"Fair enough. You're not useless, Bobby." Dean said. "Okay. Good talk." Bobby said and he goes to roll away but Dean steps in his path. "No, wait a minute. Listen to me." He said and he sits down next to me on the bed and sighs.
"You don't stop being a soldier 'cause you got wounded in battle. Okay? No matter what shape you're in, bottom line is, you're family. I don't know if you've noticed, but me, (y/n) and Sam, we don't have much left. I can't do this without you. I can't. So don't you dare think about checking out. I don't want to hear that again." Dean said to him and there was a long silence as I look between the two men, my heart was actually breaking for Bobby. I know it must be devastating and hard without having the ability to walk.
"Okay." Bobby said. "Okay. Good." Dean said. "Thanks. Now, we done feeling our feelings? 'Cause I'd like to get out of this room before we both start growing lady parts." Bobby said and I snort out a chuckle. "Yeah, we're done." Dean said then he and I get up.
I grab my bag as Dean picks up his burger, looks at it, and puts it back down then picks up his bag. "Let's go, Ironsides." Dean said as he slings his bag over his shoulder and heads for the door. "Oh, that one's sticking, huh?" Bobby asked and Dean looks back, smiling, and he takes my hand and we leave the room.