It's very relaxing to get a few days off. Mitch has four kids that are fun to hang out with. He's got a very happy family.
On the third day of my visit, I fell asleep on the couch in the living room the night before. Mitch's twins wake me up that morning. They are nine years old.
"Bailey, it's MORN-ING," the girl, Lou, says, curling up next to me on the couch. "Daddy made WAFFLES." She enunciates waffles, probably because she is excited about it. They are her favorites.
"Okay," I say, smiling a little. After eating breakfast and still not hearing anything from Sam and Dean since I've been gone, I decide to bid my goodbyes to Mitch's family and head on my way back to the bunker.
•••
After making a stop at a liquor store (that stuff is hard to carry on a bike by the way), I start heading for home.
I get back there mid-afternoon. I say hello loudly as I walk inside to announce my presence, but I get no answer. Maybe they're out on a case?
As I walk further down the stairs, I see Dean sitting at the table, staring intently at his computer screen. I set the bag down on the table in front of him, waiting for him to talk. This is kind of weird, even for Dean. He was never crazy about me, but it was never so bad that he flat out ignored me.
"Dean?" I say. He finally talks to me, and I should've been expecting it.
"Did you get beer?" He asks, grabbing the bag I set down before I can stop him.
"Uh..."
"Ooh, that'll work," he says, grabbing the bottle of scotch I bought out of the bag.
"Actually that was for..." I start, then trail off as he looks at me curiously. I just look at him a moment; he looks pissed off about something, or sad. I don't know. I think he mixes those emotions together. "Go ahead," I say, waving my hands.
A few moments later he's on his second drink, his laptop is closed in front of him, and I'm sitting across from him with my legs crossed on the table. "Where's Sam?" I ask him. He scoffs, looking away.
"He went out, he'll be back later," Dean says. I don't say anything more about that.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
"It's mom," he says. I raise my eyebrows as he pours himself another drink. "You know how she's been gone most of the time? Guess where she was at?" I shrug my shoulders. "Working with the Brits."
"Why?" I ask.
"Hell if I know," he says. "I mean, why the hell would she work with them over us? We're her freaking sons." I don't say anything. I don't know what to say. "I don't– whatever." He shakes his head.
Dean's quiet for a moment, then he eyes the bottle of scotch in front of him. "What's the occasion?" He wonders.
"Uh..." I start, unable to say what I'm thinking. "No occasion. I heard Sam say he likes that kind."
"Uh huh," Dean says, giving me a look.
"What?" I ask, laughing a little bit out of nervousness.
"Nothing," he says, shaking his head. "It's nice."
I scoff. "Whatever."
•••
An hour later the bottle of scotch is empty. I didn't let Dean finish it all himself. I had a few glasses. I hardly ever drink, though, so I feel it more than Dean.
"He's just so cute, you know?" I say, sipping the scotch in one hand and swirling my gun in the other hand. "Oh man, that hair. That face. Ugh."
Dean almost smiles at me. I think I'm amusing him.
"I wonder why he doesn't come after me," I say, looking up at the ceiling. "I can kill stuff, and I'm not that ugly." I raise my eyebrows as I say this.
Dean looks at me in confusion. "What do you mean?" He asks.
I roll my eyes and groan. "Do I have to spell it out for you? I want to have sex with him, duh."
"Oh," Dean says. "You haven't done that yet? You've been together for months."
I yawn and put my hands behind my head, avoiding the topic. "I'm sleepy."
He looks like he's about to say something, but a loud knocking on the bunker's door interrupts him. I stay where I am and let Dean get up and go answer it. I'm surprised at who he walks back down the stairs with.
"Hey, what's this guy doing here?" I ask. Dean holds up a bottle. Probably has more alcohol in it.
"Nice place," Ketch says after he takes a seat. Him and Dean are drinking the stuff he brought, but Dean decided that I had enough. I didn't argue with him. "Quaint. Cozy."
I glare at Ketch.
"Not much for small talk, are we?" Ketch asks.
"Nope," Dean and I say simultaneously.
"Surely you have some questions," Ketch says. "Why I'm here, for instance."
"You're here to recruit us," Dean says. "You already got Mary playing your game. "You want me. And Sam. And her."
"Well, I don't," Ketch says, gesturing to himself. "But the old lads have taken quite a shine to you."
"Hmm. Well, maybe they shouldn't have sent some chick to try and kill us."
"Yes, Toni," Ketch says. "No one predicted she would go rogue. No one but me." Dean looks at him curiously. "I had a sneak peak at what a neurotic, overreacting time bomb she was. We used to date."
"Huh," Dean says. "Yeah I can see that."
Ketch chuckles. "Dean, I don't give a toss is you sign up. Honestly I don't care if you live or die. But since we're such jolly good pals now—"
"Jolly good, huh?" Dean says.
I take my gun and start swirling it again. Ketch gives me a look- almost worried- before looking back to Dean.
"Let me just say that the Men of Letters is an excellent fit for someone with our inclinations," Ketch says.
"Our? As in you and me?" Dean asks, disbelieving.
"You're a killer, Dean Winchester. And so am I. And if we go too long without something to track, or trap, or punch, or gut? Well, things get a bit ugly, don't they?"
Dean doesn't say anything so Ketch keeps talking. "The Men of Letters keep me busy. They point me in a direction, and bang, off to the races. It's not a bad life. Speaking of..." he stands up and swallows the rest of scotch in his glass.
"Now that you've heard what I have to say... places to be, vampires to behead," Ketch says.
"You got a line on vamps?" Dean asks.
"I do," Ketch says. "Interested?"
The only way Dean lets me go with him is if I drink some coffee first. He says he doesn't want me to go in the state I'm in. He says if I sober up a little by the time we get there, I can help, otherwise, I'll have to wait in the car.
"Dean?" I ask from the passenger seat after we're on the road for a little bit.
"Yeah."
"Why are we helping him? He's a jackass."
The corner of Dean's mouth turns up. "Yeah, he kind of is."
"Kind of?" I furrow my eyebrows. "You're kind of a jackass. He's at least twice as bad as you are."
"Gee, thanks," he says.
"Love you, Dean," I say, grinning and bumping his shoulder with my fist. "So this nest isn't far, is it?" I ask, sipping on my coffee.
"Uh... no, I think I see the place now," Dean says.
We pull over in front of a broken down motel. Ketch is in front of us on a motorcycle. We get out of the car. Dean didn't say I had to stay in, so I assume I can go with him.
"So what do we got?" Dean asks Ketch, taking the keys and unlocking the trunk.
"Ten bloodsuckers, give or take," he says.
"Three against ten," Dean says. "I like those odds."
"Yeah. Sun will be down in an hour. So we should move fast. Keep the rats from fleeing the ship." Dean and I look at Ketch curiously as he puts together a fancy looking gun.
"Fancy," Dean says.
"You're right," Ketch says. "Little too easy. Got another of those?" He nods his head towards the machete in Dean's hand. I got mine already. He pulls another one out for Ketch.
"You ready?" Dean asks.
"Always," Ketch says. Dean rolls his eyes.
"You good?" He asks me quietly after Ketch walks away.
"We'll find out," I say. I do feel a little better. I'm able to keep my feet underneath me. Hey, maybe being drunk will make this more fun.
"Place seems empty," Dean says after we get a little ways inside the motel. Despite what I said about feeling better, I stick next to Dean. If something happens; I'm pretty sure he'd help me if he could.
"Yes," Ketch says. "Curious."
-
"We checked the areas upstairs," Dean says, shaking his head and looking around. "This place is a ghost town. You got anything?"
"Indeed," Ketch comes around the corner pulling a whimpering girl behind him by the hair. "I found her hiding in the basement, with the corpses."
"Let me go!" She says, struggling. She snaps her teeth at him but he pull away. Dean doesn't look like he likes what Ketch is doing. Ketch chuckles at her attempt to hurt him and holds his weapon against her cheek.
"Where are your friends?" He asks her.
"I don't know," she says. Dean shrugs. Ketch sets his machete on the table behind him and hits her hard in the face, causing her to fall over. "No," she whimpers as he grabs the front of her shirt.
"Where are they?" He tries again. She doesn't say anything. "Tell—" punch "-me-" punch "-where."
Dean's had enough. He goes forward and holds Ketch back, stopping him from hitting the girl again. "Okay. All right. That's enough."
"Enough? She's a monster," Ketch argues.
"I know," Dean holds his hand out. "Just- let me." He turns around and leans down so he's at eye level with the girl vampire. "You're gonna need to tell us where your friends are."
"And you'll let me go?" She asks, blood coming from her nose.
Dean hesitates. "I'll make it quick."
The girl looks at him for a moment. "Hunting. They went hunting."
"Hunting who?" Ketch asks.
"The hunters."
•••
The Brits have made a little base of their own nearby. That's where the vamps from this motel went. It's dark by the time we get there. I think Dean is worried about his mom. In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd say he was panicking. He's hiding it pretty good.
My heart is beating so fast as well. What if Sam is there too? What if he's hurt?
Turns out I don't have anything to worry about. The worst of it is over by the time we get there.
"So, 'went out, back later', huh?" Dean asks Sam, referring to the vague note Sam left earlier.
"Just getting a drink, huh?" Sam counters.
"We were with him when we heard the place was under attack," Dean says. "We drove like a bat out of hell."
"How come?" Sam asks. "I mean, you don't care for these guys. You didn't even know I was here."
One sideways glance to his mother from Dean tells Sam what he needs to know. "Right. Of course."
"When I thought something might have happened to you, nothing else mattered," he says.
"Dean, the things I said—" Mary starts.
"No, Mom, you were... it's not your job to make my lunch, kiss me good night. It's... we're adults. You're gonna make your own choices, even if I don't like 'em. Even if I really, really don't like 'em. So that's just something I'm gonna have to get used to. Okay, mom?"
"Yeah."
We all turn when we hear chains rattling behind us. Ketch is walking with a man in chains. I guess he was a hunter who got the vampires in from the inside.
"Where are you taking him?" Sam asks.
"We have ways of dealing with hunters who go rogue," Ketch says. "They aren't pleasant."
"Good," Sam and Mary say together. Sam walks away to talk to Mick Davies, leaving me with Dean and Mary. Dean gives me a look saying he wants to talk to his mom alone.
"I'll be in the car," I say. He nods in thanks.
It doesn't take long for me to conk out in the backseat.