Rowena stands up from the motel room bed when Sam comes out of the bathroom. He was talking to Dean alone about what's happening to the elder Winchester. "How is he?" Rowena asks Sam curiously.
"Like you care," Sam says blankly as he takes a seat on the motel room bed. I'm lying across the other one on my belly, half paying attention to Scooby Doo playing on the television. "You know, I've seen my brother die, but watching him become... not him... this might actually be worse."
I watch his face for a moment. He really wears his emotions in his facial expressions.
"We need to find that grimoire," Rowena says. Sam scoffs and scratches the back of his head.
"Of course," he says. "That's your angle, isn't it?" She looks offended. "Oh, come on, Rowena. A powerful spell book shows up and all of a sudden you're here to help? Altruism isn't exactly your style."
Rowena's mouth hangs open for a moment. "True," she says. "Also, it never hurts to have a Winchester owe you one."
"Gideon Loughlin's address was in his accountant's file. If the book is there, we'll find it," Sam says, getting up and getting his coat on. "Me and Bailey."
"Of course you'll need me there to help—"
"No, no, you're staying here with Dean," Sam says firmly.
"I most certainly am not," Rowena says more firmly yet.
"Well he can't come with me, and I'm not leaving him alone," Sam says. "And I obviously don't trust you."
"Well, obviously," Rowena says. "The Black grimoire is written in ancient Druid. How do you propose to find a proper spell with me there—"
"Okay, that's enough," I say loudly, getting up off the bed. "I'll stay here and babysit, then Rowena can go with you, okay?"
"No," Sam says too quickly. I give him a look.
"Why? This way Dean isn't by himself and you can figure out everything you need," I explain. He still doesn't look happy, but with me and Rowena staring him down, he doesn't have much of a choice.
"Get in the car," he tells Rowena. She huffs, satisfied and leaves the room. Sam turns to me. "Don't let him out of your sight." I give him a look.
"Do I look like I was born yesterday?" I ask.
He sighs and turns around, leaving the motel room. I sigh in annoyance. "Yeah, I love you too," I say to the empty room in annoyance.
•••
I had all my guns laid out, because I needed something to do so I decided to go through and clean them. However, Dean is making it difficult.
"Stop touching everything," I scold him.
"Sorry," he says, walking a few steps away. I give him a weird look. He's acting VERY weird. He comes back, trying to grab at my cleaning supplies, but I gently whack his hand away. "Stop it!" I scold him, but not really since I'm laughing. I know I shouldn't be, because this is a very serious situation, but Dean is acting so out of character. "Here, play with this," I hand him a stuffed animal I had in my duffel bag. Don't judge me. "And I'll tell you a story."
"Okay," Dean says, shrugging and leaning against the table. I kind of like Dean this way.
"Once there was this girl," I start. "She was a hunter of the supernatural."
"That's like is, right?" Dean asks. I nod.
"Yep," I say, sitting next to him. "She was young, about seventeen. She went to this little town where a woman was killed by a werewolf. Ironically, it was the same monster that had killed her dad three years prior. Anyway, the woman had had a husband named Mitch and a daughter named Becky. Becky was just three years old at the time, so she didn't fully understand what happened to her mom. But Mitch was a mess. I tried to talk to him about his wife, but he just scowled at me and told me to go away.
"Finally I broke, I had to tell him the truth of what happened to his wife, so that maybe he would understand a little better. He was scared after what I told him. I told him everything would be okay, that I could keep him and his daughter safe from this monster, but he was unsure."
"Then what?" Dean asks after I had paused a moment to think.
"Well, it took a few days but she managed to find the monster. However, it hurt her and she was in the hospital for a few days. But she managed to keep her promise to Mitch and Becky, about keeping them safe. When she got out of the hospital, she went to Mitch's house to tell him and his daughter good luck— she was leaving town.
"He asked her if she had any place to go or anyone to go home to. She said no, and he asked her to stay for dinner. She agreed, and then she ended up living with him for a few years."
"That's a pretty lame story," Dean says, poking my stuffed animal with a needle. I scowl are him.
"Well, when you only have one piece it doesn't really make sense," I say. "You want me to tell you more?"
"Eh, I don't care." I scoff.
"A few years later, Mitch remarried and had a couple more kids. But one winter night, Mitch and Becky and his new wife were coming home from Becky's Christmas concert at her school. The roads were too slippery that night, and Mitch went off the road. His wife was fine, but him and his daughter were hurt pretty bad. In fact, they said Mitch was gonna die. I remember pacing around the emergency room thinking of ways to save them, but I couldn't think of anything. Suddenly, a report came on the television in the waiting room about someday who had gotten ripped to shred by 'invisible dogs'. That's when I knew what I had to do. I had to sell my soul."
"How much did it cost?" Dean asks, only half paying attention as he pokes the doll.
"Oh, honey," I say, putting my hand on his shoulder. "Anyway, I gave my soul to save Mitch and his daughter. That means I had ten years to live. When Mitch and Becky woke up, they were shocked. The doctors couldn't figure out how it happened. Mitch asked me did I have anything to do with it. I told him, it was just a miracle. He smiled and hugged me. I cried myself to sleep that night."
"Why?" Dean looks at me. It feels good to get this story off my chest.
"I was scared," I shrug. "I didn't want to go to hell; I didn't know what it would be like."
"Why aren't you there now?" Dean asks me.
I pause a moment. "I escaped."
"You escaped?" He asks, wide eyed, suddenly very interested. "How?!"
"Uh... I don't know exactly," I say. "I remember small details, vague images, but I'm still not sure exactly how it happened."
"You must be a witch like Rowena," he says.
"Um... I don't think so," I say, shaking my head. "I remember... the anger. I felt this power like I had never felt before. At the snap of my fingers, I was out of my chains. With a wave of my hands I could smite a handful of demons. It was nothing. I had no idea where it came from. I could see the magic in my veins, feel it pulsing."
I quit talking and turn to look at Dean, watching him poke at the doll. "It must be nice to not remember what you've done."
"What have I done?" He asks me.
"You're a killer," I say, shrugging, like it's not big deal. "But I suppose that's the pot calling the kettle black."
"Wait, I- I kill people?" Dean asks, surprised.
"People, mostly monsters," I say. "Most of them have had it coming, but some have been accidents. I guess in your guys's words, it's 'for the greater good'."
"And that's supposed to make it okay?" Dean asks in disbelief.
I sigh, shrugging. "That's what you tell yourselves. That's what I try to tell myself. But, no, I don't think it makes it okay. You best yourself up, though, and I don't think you should. Most of the time you're doing what you think is best." I put my hand on his shoulder.
There's not much else to do with our time. I try to just keep Dean occupied. But Sam and Rowena are both on the case, and much to my surprise they get back a few hours later and Rowena successfully performs the spell on Dean.
•••
"So, how you holding up?" Sam asks Dean the next day as we see Rowena off. "After the spell?"
"That thing kicked my ass," Dean asks.
"You know I gotta be honest," Sam says. "I was actually, Uh, a little jealous at first."
"Of what? The curse that nearly killed me?" Dean asks.
"Some of the things we've done, we've had this weight for, forever. And seeing it gone, uh, you looked happy."
"You were very nice," I say to Dean. "Totally out of character. It was very scary."
Dean rolls his eyes at me. "Shut up. Look, was it nice to drop our baggage? Yeah, maybe. Hell, probably. But it wasn't just the crap that got lost. It was everything. It was us, it was what we do, you know? All of it. So, if that's what being happy looks like, I think I'll pass." I grin and pat Dean on the shoulder. He glares at me.
"You could be happy once in a while, though, you know? It wouldn't kill you," I say.
"Hey, it almost did," he says. I roll my eyes and get in the car.
***
A/N: crappy filler to finish off this episode. Next one will have Cas in it, yay!!