Wait For It
We rise and we fall and we break
And we make our mistakes
And
if there's a reason I'm still alive
When everyone who loves me has
died
I'm willing to wait for it
Overture
Emily put down her duffel in the motel. She looked around. The usual four walls, the usual two spent beds and the usual weird motel smell. That was going to be her home for an indefinite time. She looked again: that had been her home for years. Dean walked past her and sighed, throwing his own bag on the bed. He’d been awfully quiet since Sam’s jump. He was in pain, but he wouldn’t talk about it, in real Dean Winchester fashion. He’d look at Emily with those eyes she could recognize from harder times. And it was scaring her. So much she would think twice about talking, go over her words in her head a few dozen times before she spoke. She never wanted things to escalate again. There was a close call. Dean had gotten drunk a few days of travel back, and she said she could drive if he needed to rest. He got mad, almost in an instant, and yelled so hard her years started ringing. She just looked at him, frozen in fear, unable to react, until he walked away and drove off. She stayed at the bar, alone, knowing no one would ever go near her after seeing his brother act like that. No one in their right mind would make him mad. He came back four hours later and just texted her “im out here” from outside. At least he drove me back, she thought. He asked her to pick a city, and she said Chicago, where the winters are cold and Christmas is snowy. She rubbed her hands together as a little condensation dissolved in front of her mouth and then locked the door.
“You cold?” asked Dean. Emily shook her head.
“'m fine,” she said. “This is it, right? We’re gonna stay a while?” she asked.
“Ya,” he sighed. It was crazy how much stuff she’d lost or thrown away over the years. At some point in her life, she used to carry a dress with her. As she emptied the backpack on the bed, she counted three shirts and two overalls, both stained with blood on the bottom of the legs. “You know what?” said Dean, nervous. Emily looked back and he closed his bag back up. “We're gonna be here a while, it's best we get separate rooms.” Before Emily could compile a complete phrase, Dean had already left and slammed the door behind him. Emily stared at the closed door for a few seconds. She probably should have gone after him, right? But she was scared. So, maybe it was better that way. At least for the moment. She knew how to get some money to pay for the motel, and she knew how to live alone. She was an adult. Sam had told her not to stay anyway. She looked down at her phone. December. She’d turned twenty one and they didn’t even notice. She didn’t even remember what she was doing on her birthday.
She saw Dean a few times in the next few weeks: sometimes they’d meet at the vending machines, sometimes he’d knock on her door to ask if she wanted to get a drink. She usually said yes just for the sake of avoiding arguing. But then, nothing for a few days. And then it turned into a week. Emily knew she had to leave. She’d promised Sam she would, she owed him that much. But it never felt like the right time. She’d tell herself one more day. One more day, then she’d steal a car and be on her way. She just needed one more day to figure out what to do, where to go. Then, after seven one-more-days, a knock on her door at three AM. She questioned whether to open or not. She could definitely get away with pretending to be asleep. She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, then opened. Dean frantically entered the room. It almost looked like someone was following him, so she grabbed her gun and looked outside both ways before closing the door. He sat on what, the day they arrived, was supposed to be his bed.
“Can I stay here?” he whispered. Emily nodded. Dean kicked away his boots and threw them in a corner. Emily waited for a few seconds, gun in her hand, for some sort of explanation.
“Are you-” Emily hesitated. Dean didn’t look her way. He stared at the floor in the middle of his socks. “Are you not going to tell me what’s going on?”
“Can I stay here or not?” he asked. His tone masked the crack in his voice pretty well, but not good enough. Emily sighed and nodded. She put her gun away and walked to the coffee maker. She poured Dean a cup of coffee and handed it to him. He looked at the cup, but not at her. When he reached for it, Emily saw his hand shake. She took a step back and decided not to ask anything else. Just as she was about to start planning a way out, a way to leave him alone to calm down or whatever it was he needed, she remembered - there was nobody else. Sam couldn’t save her ass anymore. He couldn’t step in and do it for her. Dean held his breath for a moment, his chest heaving up and down, and then coughed. Shit. Emily closed her eyes. She wasn’t half as angry as she used to be years before. Maybe she’d grown out of it, or maybe John was right: they just had to learn how to live with each other. Maybe Dean and her had learnt. Ish. What were the safe options? Dean surely wasn’t going to just talk it out. Or hug it out. He was probably drunk already, and he- crash. The mug fell to the floor and shattered, coffee spraying all across the room and on the not-so-white bedsheets. She looked at Dean’s hands clutching and then reopening, shaking visibly.
“Dean,” she said. He turned towards her. Why did he look terrified of her voice? Emily sighed and went to grab a towel from the bathroom. She put it over the shards, in between Dean’s feet. “Move your feet, you’re gonna get hurt.” Emily put her boot on the towel and used it to push all shards in a corner as Dean sat on the bed with his legs crossed. “Sorry, that was my only mug,” she said. “But there’s- uh- there’s a twenty four hour diner a few miles down. I can drive down there, g-”
“It’s fine,” Dean whispered. Emily shifted her weight between her left and right feet. It was not fine. Sam was dead: nothing was ever going to be fine again. Dean was not going to be fine, and she had no idea how to fix it. She never knew. She didn’t even know how to fix herself.
“I got some chips,” she said. “do you-”
“Emily,” Dean said. Emily looked at him and swallowed. One wrong word and it was going to turn into a revival of Bobby’s house. “Are you scared of me?” Emily didn’t answer. Dean stared in front of him and put down his feet from the bed. She cracked her fingers and then crossed her arms. She couldn’t say yes. But Dean would have known if she lied. Dean sighed, Emily’s silence giving away the horrible answer. He quickly dried his face.
“Sorry,” she whispered. “It’s just-” Dean finally looked at her and her voice died in her throat. He looked out of it. He looked like he was going to crumble at the first gust of wind. “It’s hard not to be.”
“Yeah, yeah-” Dean continued whispering, continuing on to mutter something under his breath. Emily didn't say anything. “How do I fix it?” Dean asked, looking away.
“Dean,”
“Just tell me,”
“I have no idea,” she admitted.
“Okay well, figure it out!” Dean yelled. Emily looked away and swallowed. She remained silent for a second, looking for something to say that made any sense at all.
“Sam said-”
“Sam doesn't get it,”Dean said. Emily looked away. To some extent, he was right. He never quite found the point. Maybe that was the point, maybe the point was that there was no point. Dean was right, Sam never understood. Of all things, he never understood what happened when he'd died, because he wasn't there. He didn't hear Dean crying, he never smelled the beer from feet away, he never had to pick up shattered bottles, and he never had to hear Dean say Emily wasn't his sister. Not once, Sam had to fight with Dean, who would slap him while being black out drunk and then forget about it. So, Dean was right. Sam didn't get it. Emily looked at the spot next to Dean on the bed. She could have sat there. Maybe. Or maybe not. She didn't move.
“It’s the past, Dean,” she said. Dean didn't answer, his eyes fixed on the floor. “We're fine.”
“Are we?” Dean asked. Emily didn't answer. “Because I'm drunk, and while I was coming here I- I-” Dean trailed off and stood up, pacing to the other side of the room, pinching his nose. “I thought that this was all your fault.” Emily looked at him. He didn't look at her, only at the floor or the ceiling. His chest bent forward for a second and then he went back to sitting on the bed.
“You should probably get some rest,” she suggested, trying to smile. Dean didn't answer. He looked in front of him, silent. Emily walked to her overalls and dug out the car keys. “I’ll go get something from the vending machines,” she said. She backed towards the door and left, the door closing behind her. Coward, she assessed with disgust. Can't you tell he needs you?! she thought to herself. She closed her eyes and for a second thought of going back in. Her hand hovered on the handle for a second. Would he have done it for her? No. And the last time she tried helping him she’d paid the consequences of something she had not done. Emily entered the car and drove to a bar.
Another week, another seven days of excuses. One more day. Maybe I'll do it tomorrow. I already paid the full week, it doesn't make sense now. So the two weeks turned into three, and the three turned into four. The pool hustling turned into bartending every night at a hunter bar called The Deer. And another month later, the motel turned into an apartment. Dean stayed at the motel, came to the bar every night. Emily knew he would never admit it out loud, but he was checking on her. He'd sit by the pool table and glance at her in between turns, but never talked to her. Not until that night. The bar was empty, most hunters had been long gone, whether they went to sleep or they drove to their next gig. Emily'd gathered her tips in her pocket and punched the ice machine to make it spit more ice. It made a depressing struggling sound and turned back on. When she went back to the front, Dean was sitting on one of the stools. There was a single other customer, an old man Emily knew as a regular, a certain Reggie. A Bobby-type man, always looking out for everybody else, never a smile. He looked at Dean from a distance.
“What can I get you?” Emily asked Dean, placing both her hands on the counter. Dean nodded towards the alcohol filled shelf behind her. “Gotta be more specific.”
“Whiskey's good,” Dean said. He cleared his voice and Emily reached for the whiskey, grabbed the closest glass, and poured around an inch of liquor in it. She slid it towards Dean. “How you holding up?” he asked. Emily didn't answer. She walked to the other side of the counter and towards Reggie.
“Hey Reg, anything else I can get ya?” she asked. The man shook his head. Emily smiled and walked back towards Dean. He’d placed a ten dollar bill on the counter. “It's fine, whiskey's on the house.” Emily said. Dean sighed, his lips tightening, and took back the money.
“Are you really not gonna talk to me?” he asked. Emily sighed and dragged a rag through the counter. “Seriously?”
“Dean, didn't you promise Sam you were going to be normal? Go all white picket fence and apple pie?” she asked. Dean shrugged. “What are you doing here every night hustling pool?”
“I need the money,” Dean said. “Motel isn't gonna pay itself.”
“How about a job?” she asked. Dean rolled his eyes. “Dean, you promised him, okay?”
“What about you? Didn't you promise?” Dean asked.
“I have a job, I have an apartment, I am living a normal life!” she complained. Reggie turned his head towards them, attracted by the arguing. “You're in here every night talking shop and scamming people out of their money, when you could be out there working in any car shop in the city!”
“You-” Dean frowned. “You got an apartment?” Emily nodded. “When?”
“It's a shoebox, I moved in last month,” she said. “But it's better than a motel, so… you know.”
“You… you didn't say anything,” Dean looked away, his glass still full in front of him.
“You're the one who insisted we took separate rooms,” Emily said, dragging a cloth over the counter. “I didn't think you'd care.” Dean looked at her, confused, “What?”
“Just- You know- I thought we were doing this together,” Dean said. Emily closed her eyes. Sam never told him. He didn't know what she'd promised. A promise she still hadn't been able to fulfill. Leave Dean, don't look back. He had no idea what Sam had asked her to do. When Emily didn't answer, Dean emptied his glass and stood up. Yeah, shit. Emily thought. He's gonna leave and you're never gonna see him again. Is that what you want?
“Dean,” she called just as he was about to open the door. He turned. “I meant what I said,” she said, swallowing. “The past is the past.”
“I know,” Dean said, walking back towards the counter. “But I get it, you don't wanna have nothing to do with me.” Emily looked at him and put a hand in her pocket. She moved the tips and slid a pen out of her overalls.
“If you don't mind sleeping in a shoebox,” Emily said, scribbling the address to her apartment on a napkin. “Spare keys are in the vent above the door.” She didn't know why she'd done it. It wasn't like she didn't want to keep her promise to Sam. But maybe Dean had changed. Maybe she'd changed. Maybe they were going to be okay, right? And it didn't have to be permanent, Dean could get his own place. Or they could get a bigger place. With actual doors and rooms. And maybe they could be normal once and for all.
Or maybe not. Two weeks later, Emily was already regretting ever giving her address to Dean. He was drunk. Perpetually drunk. Because Emily worked at night and Dean worked days, it was rare for them to be home and awake at the same time, but when they were, Emily felt like she was walking on eggshells. One wrong word and Dean'd get mad and yell, and then a second later he'd be apologising, he'd be saying he just wanted a normal life, but get mad if Emily tried to help or suggest anything. Caught her smoking weed? Wouldn't hear the end of it for hours, like alcohol wasn't just as bad. Then one day, two months later, everything changed. It all started after he'd come home at an ungodly hour, when Emily was sitting on the couch, Dean's bed sheets pushed to the side, playing videogames.
“Hey,” Dean said, walking past the TV. That was already weird, as he usually didn't speak to her. Not after a long night. “I- uh-” Emily paused the game and looked at him. “It's kinda hard to- you know,” Dean clicked his tongue and took a deep breath. “I was wondering if you wanted to go out for dinner one of these nights.” Emily frowned.
“Uh, yeah-” she said, confused. “I'm off on Wednesday, why?” Dean put his hands on his waist. “Are we…” Emily hesitated for a moment. One wrong move and the neighbours were gonna be on their way to call the police. “Are we celebrating something?”
“Uh,” Dean hesitated and looked away. “Kinda, yeah.” Emily frowned.
“Okay, sure, just…” Emily gestures towards him. “Does Wednesday work?” Dean nodded.
“I think, yeah, I- I'll let you know.”
Emily spent the following day thinking about the dinner. There was no way Dean had changed from one day to the other, so something had to be up. And what were they celebrating, anyways? Did he get a new job? Found a bunch of money on the floor? There was nothing worth celebrating in their life, not that Emily knew of. Wednesday came, and Emily spent her day off cleaning the apartment. Dean came back from work and rushed to take a shower. Emily folded Dean's bed back into a couch and vacuumed under it, until someone knocked on the apartment’s door. Emily frowned. The shower turned off.
“Shit,” said Dean from inside the bathroom. “Can you get it? I’ll be out in a second.” Emily put down the vacuum and went to open the door. Behind it was a man. Tall, muscular, dark hair, blue eyes. For an insane moment she thought it was Castiel, but then she blinked a couple of times and realized he wasn’t. However she'd seen him a couple of times around town, so he probably lived in the area.
“Can I help you?” Emily asked. The man frowned and looked behind her, confused.
“Sorry, is this apartment B forty five?” Emily nodded. “I'm looking for Dean.” The bathroom door opened and Dean walked out, closing a button on his flannel, hair still wet. “Oh,” said the man. “This is awkward, uh-” Emily looked at Dean, then at the man. “Sorry,” he said, looking at Dean. “I didn't realize you, uh-” he pointed to Emily, awkward smile disappearing and leaving space for disappointment. That was when Emily realized.
“Oh, no, we're-” Emily tried to say. “I'm not his wife, I'm his sister,” she explained. “Sorry, I didn't realise we were waiting for someone, I-” The man burst out laughing, relieved.
“Oh my God,” he said. “Yeah, of course!” He put a hand on his forehead. “He's talked about you like a thousand times.” Emily looked back at Dean, who was standing behind her. “Emily, right?”
“Yeah,” she said. “So, you must be what we're celebrating tonight, right?” Dean nodded. The man chuckled.
“So, well, adiós to formalities I guess,” said Dean. “Emily, this is Stephen, Stephen, this is Emily.” Emily shook Stephen's hand. “Sorry, I- I didn't realise it was this late, I’m gonna- uh-” Dean pointed to his hair. “I’ll be out in a second.” Emily let Stephen inside the apartment and offered him coffee. They sat at the small kitchen table.
“So,” said Stephen. “I heard a lot about you, Dean tells me you're basically an angel, letting him crash here after everything that happened.” Emily bit the inside of her cheek, trying to imagine what weird fake life Dean could have cooked up.
“Yeah, it's-” Emily hesitated. “He's family, you know? Gotta stick together.” Stephen nodded. “What do you- what do you do, Stephen?”
“Oh, I'm- I'm a surgeon,” he said. Emily looked up from her coffee, which almost choked her. “And I'm a professor at the university here.”
“Wow,” Emily said. “I- I was gonna go to pre med when I was younger, but then, you know…” Emily trailed off. Crap. Didn't think of a story. “So how- how did you guys meet?”
“Funny thing,” Stephen said. “I actually come to The Deer sometimes, that's- that's how we met.” Emily frowned, confused. “I- I used to be a hunter,” he explained. Emily's frown didn't subside. What the hell did he mean, a hunter? Like a hunter-hunter? Or a normal hunter?
“Oh, and, uh-” Emily hesitated. “What did you, you know-”
“Right, of course,” Stephen smiled. “Don't worry, I meant like you- you and Dean, a hunter-hunter. Not, like, animals and stuff.”
“Thank fucking God,” Emily sighed. Stephen huffed. “Sorry, I just wasn't- You know, I wasn't sure what you meant,” she said. “So you- you know? About everything?”
“About how you and your brothers stopped the damn apocalypse?” he asked. “Damn right I know, everyone knows.” Emily frowned. “Emily, you guys are like legends.” That explains why a bunch of people knew my name on my first day of work, she thought. And here I was, thinking I was too high to remember them. Dean walked out of the bathroom.
“Dean, did you know we're like- famous?” Emily frowned.
“Uh, yeah, apparently we are,” he answered. “You guys ready? We're gonna be late.”
Emily stepped back inside of the apartment with Dean following her a couple of steps back. Stephen's voice echoes in her head: Dean tells me you're basically an angel. He had to have made it up. After everything that happened. What the hell did he know? Was he talking about Sam? About what happened before Hell? After Hell? Did Dean go as far as to tell this random guy he liked, loved, whatever, that he'd used his sister as a punching ball? There was no way, right? Emily looked at Dean as he sighed and opened the fridge, looking for a beer. He crouched, his knees cracking in the silence of the night, as opened a button on his flannel.
“Did you like him?” Dean asked, handing her a beer. She took it and opened it using the edge of the counter.
“He's nice,” she said. “And I guess it's cool that he also used to be a hunter, right?”
“Right,” Dean said, walking towards the couch. He unfolded it and turned it back into his bed. He laid the bedsheets back down and sat on them.
“Dean,” Emily called, leaning on the kitchen to look at him. “How much did you tell him?” Dean dragged a hand on his face.
“Emily, he's a good person,” Dean complained. “You don't have to worry-”
“I didn't say he wasn't, I'm just- worried you made me look like some sort of martyr,” she said. “You told him I'm an angel?” Dean shook his head.
“I didn't use those words, I just told him what happened.” Emily shook her head and walked out of the kitchen. She entered her bedroom. “Emily, I know what Sam asked you to do,” Dean said. Freeze. No fucking way. Emily walked back out of the bedroom. “Which, you know, makes me wonder-”
“You're my brother, Dean,” she sighed. “And you clearly needed help, I wasn't gonna let you drown.” Dean looked at her and didn't answer, so she went back into her room and closed the door.
Act I
Who lives, who dies, who tells your story
from Hamilton
Life was normal, but Emily knew better than to trust it. She knew from experience life couldn’t be really normal for long, because hunting always came back to bite her ass somehow. She’d gone through it, every single hunter at The Deer had gone through it. Dean seemed better, at least on the outside, and Stephen seemed happy. To her, and anybody else’s, eyes, they were a normal couple. Nothing out of the ordinary. Eventually, Dean moved out of Emily’s apartment and went on to rent an apartment with Stephen. It was all fine. Until, as always, it wasn’t. It was a summer morning, and Emily’s truck had decided not to start. The dashboard would light up, and then the car would make a sad, dying sound and everything would turn off. She tried a few times, until the dashboard stopped lighting up. The sad demise of a battery that was no good to begin with. Emily had replaced it from another car Dean was about to call salvage on, and it was definitely not powerful enough. Emily sat back in the seat for a second. She had a few hours to spare before she really had to go. She meant to run some errands, but it looked like the only errand she would be running was changing the battery. Or at least, shocking it enough it would come back for one last trip before dying again. She hopped down the truck and locked it, then started walking towards the shop Dean worked at. With some luck, he would be working and able to give her another used car battery. She knew how to replace it, it was fine, she just didn’t want to spend money on a new one. One that probably wouldn’t have lasted more than a few weeks. She walked through the garage door and greeted the owner.
“Hey Greg, how’s it going?” she asked. The man frowned and threw a greasy towel over his shoulder.
“All good, listen,” he said, looking around. Another worker walked closer to them. “Is Dean okay?” Emily frowned. “We haven’t seen him this week, we were actually starting to worry.”
“What?” Emily asked. “What do you mean?”
“I mean- he’s been taking less and less hours so I figured he was gonna move on to another shop, but he hasn’t been answering his phone and that’s not like him,” Greg said. “So you haven’t heard from him?”
“Not in a couple of days, but he hasn’t said anything about a new job,” she explained. Greg and the worker looked at each other, worried. “I’m sure he’s okay,” she lied. “Maybe he’s just hung over somewhere.”
“You sure kid?” Greg asked. Emily nodded.
“Yeah, I- I’ll go to his house and tell him to get it together, don’t worry.” Emily hesitated for a moment and took a deep breath. “Actually, do you maybe happen to have a car battery you could sell me? Mine’s drained.”
“Sure thing,” Greg said. “Is that for that ol’ thing you're driving around town?”
“Yeah, it’s- it’s a nineteen-eighty Ford Tough,” she said. Greg nodded and walked into the back of the shop. He emerged with a box.
“You sure you’re good putting this in?” he asked. “Got all the tools?”
“Sure,” Emily said. “I’ve done it a bunch now. How much do I owe you?”
“It’s on the house, kid, I was gonna throw it away tonight,” Greg said. Emily smiled.
“Thanks Greg,” she said. “I owe you a big one.”
Emily closed the hood of the truck and sat inside. She opened her laptop and tried to locate Dean’s phone. Good thing he hadn't turned it off, because what the hell was he doing in Louisiana? That was a long way from Chicago. Dean was not out drinking. She packed a few things from her apartment, called The Deer to tell she couldn't come to work for a few days, and started driving.
She walked into a run down building, gun into her hand, not knowing what to expect. Was Dean going to be alone? In trouble? Was it vampires? Demons? She had looked for Ruby's knife everywhere, but it had disappeared, which could only mean one thing. Dean had taken it when he'd moved out. She walked down the hall and started hearing some voices. She couldn't tell what they were saying, and she didn't recognise them. Then, Dean's voice. When she walked around the corner, she saw him and Sam. In front of them, facing away from Emily, a few men and a woman. One of them was holding Dean at gun point. Emily didn't hesitate. She loaded her gun and shot four times, one in the leg of each person holding her brothers at gun point. Scared, Dean put his hand on his gun too, but as the last person fell to the ground, in pain, he recognized her and frowned.
“What the hell are you doing here?!” he asked.
“Me?” Emily asked, walking towards the wounded people. “I had to call off work last minute to do this, you, on the other hand, haven't worked at the car shop in weeks!” She walked closer to him. “How long did you think you could hide this from me?” She forced a woman on her back with her foot and pointed her gun at her. “Who the fuck's this people?” she asked.
“Put the gun away, Emily, they’re our cousins,” Dean said. Emily frowned.
“Dad had siblings?” she asked. Dean shook his head. “Oh, your cousins, okay,” she said. “What about that one?” she pointed her gun toward an older man.
“That’s our grandfather,” Dean explained. “And you definitely didn't need to shoot them.”
“They were gonna shoot you, I wasn't gonna watch ‘em,” she said. “Besides, nobody's ever died from being shot.” Dean looked at her and frowned. Emily frowned too. “You know what I mean.” She put away her gun. “Care to tell me what's going on?” she looked at Sam and that's when she put two and two together. Sam, alive. “Wait, what-”
“We should talk outside,” Dean said. Emily looked at him and didn't move. She turned to Sam.
“Would it have killed you to call? Text? ‘Oh hey, by the way, I'm topside!’”
“Why would I?” he asked. Emily frowned. “You're n-”
“Okay, Sam?” Dean interrupted, stepping away from the wounded group, still complaining and groaning on the floor. “I'll handle this, okay?”
“I don't understand,” Sam said, looking at Dean. “We didn't need her, so I never called her.” Dean took a deep breath and put his hands on his waist. Emily looked at Sam and opened her mouth to complain, but then closed it again. Sam had something weird about him. There used to be some kind of background noise with him and with the telepathy. But it was gone, just like when he was possessed by Lucifer. She didn't say anything until they were outside the building.
“What the hell's wrong with him?!” Emily asked. Dean looked away. “What did you do?!”
“Sam,” Dean said, pointing towards the car. Sam sighed and walked away. Dean waited until Sam was out of earshot. “Sam has no soul.”
“What?!” Emily frowned. “What the hell did you do?!”
“It's not-”
“Why do I even bother with you?!” Emily yelled. “I can't believe you're doing this again! I-”
“Emily, I didn't-”
“I tried, okay? But this- this is just- You brought him back? Again? Seriously?!”
“I didn't-”
“I don't care if you didn't do a deal this time, you- how did you do it?!”
“I didn't!” Dean yelled. Emily scoffed. “We don't know why he's back and we don't know why he has no soul!”
“Am I supposed to believe you?” Emily asked. “So what? He just- popped out of the Cage? Alive and well?”
“I don't know, okay?” Dean said. “I- I- I didn't want to drag you back into this, not-” he hesitated, looking away. “Look, I know you care about him, and I didn't want you to see him like this.”
“Bullshit,” Emily said. “You just didn't want me around!” Dean shook his head. “I could have helped, okay? I-”
“Okay, you know what?” Dean said, putting his jacket back on and walking towards the car as well. “I didn't ask for this, I just wanted to protect you, but fine, have it your way!” Emily shook her head and left towards her own car, before she opened the door, she turned one last time. She could have said a lot of things, ask him to be careful, not to throw away the normal life they'd built, but then she looked at Sam. She couldn't compete. There was nothing she could have said. She sat down in her car and drove away. What the hell did he mean he had no soul? Was that even a real thing? Was that why he didn't have his powers? Emily still had hers, right? Later that night, she looked at her bag thrown in a corner of the motel room room and imagined it flying across. The bag slammed on the opposite wall and fell back down. Maybe Sam dying stripped him of his powers? It didn't happen to her, so that had to be because of the soul. The bag slammed against the wall again. And again, and again. Emily looked at it as it moved thanks to her powers, but it didn't feel as good as doing it herself. She stood up, grabbed it from the floor and threw it across the room.
When she arrived back home the following morning, all of the last few Dean's stuff he’d left behind were gone. Emily walked through the apartment looking for a sign. Something he'd forgotten, a note, anything that could tell her where they were. She found a note on the kitchen counter. “I’m gonna bring him back”
Dean didn't want to be found. Emily looked, and she used everything she had, but he changed plates, numbers and aliases, and disappeared. Emily’s life continued. Work, rest, cook, eat, repeat. At The Deer she never served the same face two nights in a row, hunters coming and going most nights, exchanging stories. Reg sat in his seat night after night, silently reading, drinking the night away. In a lot of ways, he reminded her of Bobby. She grabbed her phone and scrolled down to his number. She texted him. Emily here, hope you're all good. Hit me up if you're ever passing by Chicago, drinks on me. She went back to serving whiskeys to people who smelled like blood and sweat, a smell she'd felt so many times on herself it had stopped bothering her. Hunters would talk shop, sometimes she'd join in. Some of them had no idea who she was, and she'd hear some of them talk about the Winchesters, making up stories about helping them stop the damn Armageddon, and she'd chuckle behind the counter, nodding like she believed them. Emily locked up the bar a whole month after Dean's note, which she'd hung on the fridge. And then it was two months. And the three months turned into a year. She drove back home after her shift at The Deer. Another one exactly like the others, except it was Christmas. And if her first Christmas in Chicago, she'd spent trying to stop Dean from getting drunk, her second one she was going to spend alone. The house was cold, dark, and smelled like mold. Like it always did. The air vent hissed, letting ice cold air in the house. She moved the trashcan in front of it. Someone knocked on her door. She looked at her phone: it was three in the morning. Emily decided to ignore it and pretend to be asleep. She didn't make a sound as she walked across the kitchen and inside the bedroom. Her phone rang. It was Dean. Against her best judgment, Emily picked up.
“Dean?”
“Can you open the damn door?” said his voice. Emily walked back to the door and opened it. She hung up the phone. “You need to come home,” Dean said. Emily frowned.
“Why?” she asked. “I told you-”
“It's Bobby,” Dean said. “He's not good, Emily.” Emily looked at Dean for a long moment, then walked back to her room. Dean followed her in. “Come on, Emily, I know you-” Emily grabbed a bag from the floor and started stuffing her clothes in it. “Look, I'm sorry for how things went, okay? I shouldn't have lied to you, I-” Emily punched one last t-shirt in the bag and closed the zipper. She walked past Dean and waited by the front door. Dean frowned for a second, then walked out of the house.
“Get out,” she said. Dean walked out the door and Emily locked it, then stuffed the keys in her pocket. But she knew, at that moment, she wasn't going to come back if not to grab her last few things. There wasn't a reason, it was just a feeling. Maybe some reminiscences of psychic powers she hadn't used in a long time.
Dean parked the car by the hospital and Emily stepped out without saying a word. Either of them had said anything for the entire drive from Chicago to Sioux Falls. Emily walked into the hospital and Dean walked past her. She followed him to the elevator, and when the doors opened, she saw Sam. His eyes widened. He walked towards them.
“Where the hell were you, man?” he asked Dean. “I thought you were just getting coffee.”
“Yeah well, I wasn’t,” Dean answered. “What’s the news?” Sam sighed and looked at Emily.
“The doctors said we need to wait and see, but- he’s stable,” Sam said. Emily closed her eyes and dragged her hand through her face. “It’s- it’s good to see you, kid.” Emily frowned. He looked at her and moved one corner of his lips up. “I’m sorry about how things went down last time, I-”
“Is he in there?” Emily pointed to one of the rooms. Sam nodded and sighed as Emily walked past him and towards the room. The door was closed, but Emily could see inside.
“He’s going to be fine,” Sam said.
“What if he isn’t?” Emily answered, looking towards Sam. Dean was standing behind him, pacing around nervously. He looked at her.
“She’s right,” he said. “What the hell are we supposed to-” Dean stopped walking next to Sam. “What are we gonna do?”
“I don’t know,” Sam sighed.
“I should have been there,” Emily said, walking away from the window. “I could have-”
“Kid, you couldn’t have done anything,” Sam said. Dean took a deep breath.
“You don’t know that,” Emily complained.
“Sam’s right,” Dean said. “I don’t know what I wo-” Sam turned around and Dean stopped talking to her. “You got an update for us doc?” he asked. Emily turned too, and saw a doctor standing a few feet away from her. She looked at Dean, who turned away for a second, dragged a hand through his face and then looked at the doctor again.
“Not really,” said the doctor. “He’s still stable, but we need to wait and see if the swelling goes down.”
“How long do we have to wait?” she asked. He looked at her, confused. “Sorry- Emily Reed.”
“Ah, Miss Reed. The hospital will want to talk to you soon,” answered the doctor. Emily frowned, confused. “Unfortunately, I don’t have an answer.”
“Well, he’s lasted this long,” said Dean. “That’s something, right?”
“Well, yes. Listen,” explained the doctor. “The bullet didn't shatter. Only one hemisphere of his brain was injured. These are all positive things.” Emily looked at Dean. He seemed to finally breathe, at least until the doctor said: “But I don't want to give you false hope here. He's far from out of the woods. Most of the time, cases like this-”
“Yeah, okay, we get it,” Emily said. The doctor sighed, his lips tightening.
“I’ll keep you updated,” he said. Emily didn’t have time to say anything to her brothers, because another man approached them.
“Excuse me, sorry to interrupt.” The siblings all turned. “Is one of you Emily Reed?”
Emily walked back to Sam and Dean nervously pulling on a strand of hair as the man quickly walked around them and disappeared. “What did he want?” asked Dean.
“Bobby’s organs.” When she looked at Sam and Dean, they were both confused, almost alarmed. “For, you know- the donor thing. Not for occult purposes.”
“Ah.” Dean nodded. He sighed and sat down on the nearest chair. He dragged a hand across his face. “What did you say to him?”
“I told him no,” she sighed. “He- He also said something, well- unexpected.” Emily said. Sam and Dean looked at her. She showed a stack of paper she had been holding in one hand. “Apparently, when Bobby lost the use of his legs, he-” Emily sighed. “He left me everything.” Dean raised his eyebrows.
“You’re kidding, right?” he asked.
“Nope.” Emily turned the paper towards him. “Signed and notarized.” She handed the stack to Dean, who read it himself, more and more confused as he went. Sam started talking with a doctor and disappeared in another room. “What is everything?” Emily pointed at how high the stack was.
“I quickly went through it and it’s a very thorough list of all the storage, hiding spots, that one cabin we went to for your birthday- It’s- it's insane, that man owns like a cabin in each state.”
“And they're yours,” Dean said. Emily nodded. “Well we wouldn't have housing issues, that's for sure. Sam walked back to them.
“I’ve got an update,” he said, serious. “The swelling's down a little. They took him off sedation. Apparently, he- he started fighting his tube. So they pulled them out, and he's breathing on his own. Doctor said best case scenario.” Emily rolled a strand of hair in between her fingers.
“You say it like it’s not a good thing,” Dean said. “When are they gonna take out the bullet?” Emily looked at Sam, who didn't answer. She looked through the hallway and then at Sam.
“Give me your laptop,” she said. Sam walked to his bag, thrown into a corner of the hallway. He handed her the laptop and she sat down. “It's a hospital, I bet all their shit runs on the local network and has stupid admin level passwords.” Just like she predicted, she was inside the system in less than ten minutes. Then, all she had to do was look for Bobby's file. “Shit,” Emily whispered, Sam and Dean staring at her from across the hallway. She looked at Sam and swallowed.
“What?” Dean walked towards and took the laptop from her. He looked at it for a few seconds before handing it back to Emily. “What does this stuff mean?”
“They're not gonna take the bullet out,” she said. “It's, uh- his brain is too compromised.”
“Okay, so?” Dean said. He looked at Sam, then at Emily.
“I think we need to talk about this,” Emily said. “Like- for real.”
“Talk about what?”
“You know what!” Emily snapped. Sam looked at her and sighed.
“No, we’re not gonna have that conversation,” Dean said, eyes hard on her in a way she'd have loved not to remember. Emily looked at Sam, who was begging her not to cause a scene, and then started walking away.
“I'm gonna take a walk,” she said as she tapped the elevator button. Sam entered the elevator before she could close the doors. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“We need to talk,” Sam said. Emily put her hands in her pockets and didn't answer. “Look, we haven't seen each other in forever, I just wanted to-”
“You want to tell me why you didn't bother even sending one ‘i’m alive’ text for a whole entire year?!” she asked. Sam looked away. “Or- I don't know- how you got back? The whole ‘no soul’ thing?!”
“You're right,” Sam said. Emily scoffed. Of course she was right. You don't disappear like that for a year and then show up and barely say hi. “I should have texted you, but Dean-”
“Since when do we care about what Dean says?!” Emily asked. “When I went to hell you were the first person I wanted to see! Every time something bad happened- you were always the first one I wanted to see!”
“Emily, I-”
“What do I have to do for either of you to think of me first?!” she asked. Sam looked at her for a second, then reached for the stop button on the elevator and pulled it. The elevator stopped, making Emily take a step to the side to keep standing. “What are you doing?!” she asked.
“When I came back I wasn't me,” Sam said. “It's not that I put you or Dean first, I didn't put anybody first. I didn't have a soul, and that meant that I didn't have feelings. I didn't care for anything or anybody.”
“Okay, but then you got it back and-”
“And Dean told me you were happy,” Sam explained. “That you had your own life and that we shouldn't have fucked it up.” Emily scoffed at him and tried to restart the elevator, but Sam stopped her. “I knew if you knew that I was back, you'd have wanted back in, and I didn't want that for you,” he said. “I still don't.”
“So you weren't going to tell me about Bobby?” she asked. “Dude, he's-”
“That's not what I said,” Sam sighed. “I just- I don't know, Dean told me he would handle it and-”
“And you should have said no!” Emily yelled. “You should have been the one to drive to Chicago to come get me!” Sam looked at her, then scratched his nose.
“You're right,” Sam said. “Sorry, I was trying to look out for you.” Emily looked at him and shook her head. She knew he was lying, he'd just gotten way too good at hiding what he was thinking from her.
“I know,” Emily said, taking a deep breath and pretending to buy into the bullshit. “Whatever,” she whispered, restarting the elevator. “It's not like I'm gonna go back anyway.”
“Why not?” Sam asked.
“I work in a hunter bar and rent for an apartment that smells like mold,” Emily said. “I’d rather go back to Bobby's.” Sam looked at her and sighed. Emily frowned. “What?”
“Dean didn't tell you?” he asked. Emily looked at him, waiting for an answer. “It burned down,” he said. “It's gone.” Emily felt a lump go up her throat. She’d lived in that house for years. She'd considered it her house for a long time, and it was gone. She swallowed. “Sorry, kid.”
“I'll rebuild it, it's fine,” Emily said, pulling the emergency stop and making the elevator restart. “Haven't been saving all those tips for nothing.” Sam tried to say something, but she interrupted him. “You know, maybe Dean was right back in the day,” she said. “You can't get out of this life.”
Just another day
from Next to Normal
Emily entered the cabin and put down the groceries. Sam and Dean were still sitting exactly where she'd left them, staring in front of them like it could somehow bring Bobby back. He was gone, and with that, the last person that was always in Emily's corner. The only adult who had bothered being her parent after her mother died. He was gone, and she still has not stopped to sit down and mourn, not for a second.
Sam, how long do you think you two are going to sit there staring into nothing? Sam scratched the back of his neck.
You know, it would be nice if you sat down with us.
I can’t.
Why?
Someone has to keep this cabin a living place. And cook. And make sure Dean doesn't run out of beer or- I don't know, whatever he's drinking.
Emily, maybe you can fool Dean, but not me. He was like a dad for me, too, but you can't-
“Guys,” said Dean’s voice. Emily looked at him. “Can you cool it with the psychic stuff?” Emily rolled her eyes and put her jacket back on. She couldn't stand being in there for five more minutes. She had to get out before she snapped at someone and started a fight, and she was gonna have to go get her stuff in Chicago at some point.
“I'm taking the Impala,” she said, taking the keys from the kitchen counter. “I'll be back tomorrow.” Emily walked out of the cabin and to the car. It was a half hour hike, one she'd just done to bring the food inside, one she'd been doing basically every day, twice a day, for two weeks. Each step made her frustration grow more. How was it fair that she had to be the mother? They were grown men, they should have been taking care of themselves, what if she wasn't there? What if she'd gone back to Chicago? Were they going to starve? Of course not, one of them would have stepped up. And they couldn't do it then? They couldn't move their fucking asses off the couch and go downtown once in a while? She was supposed to be the kid. She was trying not to cry with all her body, holding her breath and sniffing and drying her eyes like the absence of tears meant she wasn't actually crying. Bobby was gone, his house was gone, she had to sign dozens of papers as his legal next of kin, something that - as much flattering it was that Bobby saw her so much like her daughter to actually make her inherit his stuff - she had not chosen. And she had to work through that, while going on food runs, and trying to make sure Dean didn't get too black out drunk and that they didn't get into a fight. Not in front of Sam, because God knows what he would have done if he ever saw Dean act like that with her. And she had no time to herself to sit down and just cry. Sam was right. She was having trouble coping. Maybe she didn't want to, because she didn't want Bobby to be dead. Everyone she loved seemed to suffer the same demise: a horrible, preventable death. Emily sat down in the Impala and put the keys in the ignition, and that was when she couldn't hold it in anymore. Away from everyone's eyes and ears, she could finally cry. She put her head on the steering wheel and let tears fall on her legs. Bobby had always been the only one in her corner. He was the one who taught her how to drive, how to shoot, and he was the only one who showed up to her graduation. He was the only one who ever had the decency to be some kind of parent to him, and he was gone. She was alone. When things were going to get bad, she wasn't gonna have anybody on her side. She'd be alone to fend for herself. She screamed to the top of her lungs, her voice echoing in the car. Why did it have to be him? Six billion people, and the ones that died bloody were always people she cared about. Someone knocked on the window and she shot her head up, scared. It was Dean. Emily dried her face and rolled down the window.
“What?!” she asked. “What are you doing here?”
“I-” Dean hesitated. “I was wondering if you wanted company all the way to Chicago,” he said. Emily frowned. “It's a long drive.”
“Uh,” she dried her face again. “Are you really okay leaving Sam alone?” she asked. Dean sighed and put both hands on the window.
“He's gonna be fine,” Dean said. “He's not the one who's been screaming alone in the car.”
“I'm fine,” Emily said. “You don't have to come with me just because you think I'm broken or some shit like that.”
“Never said that,” Dean complained. “Look, it's a long drive, someone should come with ya.”
“Dean, get back to the cabin,” Emily said, turning on the car. “Sam shouldn't be alone right now, it's not fair.” Emily tried to close the window, but Dean pushed it back down with his hands.
“And you should?” he asked. “Look, we can all go together, I-” Emily drove away, Dean's hand holding on the window as long as he could, until she was going too fast and he had to let go. She looked at him disappearing behind a bend and kept driving.
Emily pulled into the building’s garage and opened the door, then noticed the door was taking longer than usual to close. She heard a car pull inside, too, but didn't recognize it. It took her two seconds to realise it was Dean. He parked next to her and before she could get her bag out, he was already next to her.
“What the hell are you doing here? I said-” she said.
“When have I ever listened to you?” he asked. Emily rolled her eyes. “I'm just trying to help you.”
“I don't need your help, Dean, okay?” she said, walking away. “I just need to pack some clothes is all.”
“You think I'm here to carry boxes?” Dean said. “Look, I know-”
“Okay, how about you shut up?” Emily said. “You don't know, okay? You have no idea, you-” Emily hesitated and took a deep breath. “I just wanted to be left alone, is that so hard to understand?”
“Emily, I wasn't-”
“No you were! What's the goal here? Fight? Get me mad? Lie some more?” Dean shook his head. “You lied to me for months! I thought you were doing good, that you were with Stephen having a normal, boring life made of gay bars and picket fences and instead I find out you've been hunting all this time?” Dean bit the inside of his cheek and Emily walked up the stairs and up to her apartment. She shoved the key in and entered. Dean stayed behind a few steps, silent. Emily opened her closet and threw her clothes into the closest bag she could find. Dean stayed in the kitchen and put both hands on the counter. Emily glared at him and continued packing, ignoring him. She slammed the empty closet shut and moved on to the drawers.
“Shouldn't you take the night before driving twelve more hours?” Dean said. Emily ignored him. “Come on, you must be exhausted.” She looked at him and stopped emptying the drawers to ask him a question she'd need holding in for weeks.
“What the hell happened with Stephen?” she asked. Dean took a deep breath and swallowed. His hands clenched on the counter for a second. “He went back to the Life, didn't he?”
“Yeah,” Dean whispered. Emily sighed. She looked inside the drawer, took out a few more socks and threw them inside a plastic bag. “A werewolf got to him last year, when I met up with Sam for the first time.” Emily threw the plastic bag towards the door and did the same with the bag full of clothes. Settling down gave her space for way too much stuff that she was gonna have to get back to Montana one way or another. She opened her backpack.
“I'm sorry, Dean, but you know better than I do what this life does,” she said. “You never really get out of it, unless you die.”
“I know,” Dean said. “I told him he shouldn't have come, but he didn't want me to go alone.” Emily finished packing and put her backpack on her shoulder. “I got that,” he said, moving his hand towards the backpack. Emily rolled her eyes and gave it to him. She grabbed the plastic bag and duffel off the floor and opened the door.
“You stole that car to come over here, right?” she asked. Dean nodded. “I'll take the first shift.”
“Emily, we need to talk about something,” Sam said, approaching her and looking around. Emily frowned and lifted her eyes off her laptop for a second. The cabin in Montana was already an old memory, and she was working research on an old case for Dean, who’d been gone on a supply run. She barely looked at Sam and nodded, then went back to the news article, but Sam’s hand reached over and closed it shut. “It’s important.”
“Are you okay?” Emily shifted in her chair, put one foot up and looked at him.
“I mean,” he sighed. “There’s something you need to know before you- you- you find out the wrong way.” Emily frowned, then something caught her eye behind Sam. Someone was sitting on the couch and smirking at her, someone she knew very well. It was Lucifer. Before Emily could put her hand on her gun, stand up, or scream, Sam was already stopping her. “Yeah, exactly.”
“What is going on?!” she asked, alarmed. Lucifer started singing a show tune Emily couldn’t recognize, but then disappeared as Sam pressed a scar on the palm of his hand. “Sam, wh-”
“I’ve been seeing him ever since I got my soul back,” he explained. Emily opened her mouth to complain, but Sam kept going. “I know I should have told you, but it-” Sam looked away and sighed. “We had a lot going on after Bobby, and I didn’t want to give you more shit to think about.”
“How have you- Why didn’t I see it before?” she asked. “I can hear half of what you’re thinking throughout the day, I’d think Lucifer screaming in the damn room would be noticeable!”
“Have you never wondered what happened to the other half?” Sam asked. Emily frowned. “Look, I’m sorry, but it’s important you never believe anything he says, okay?”
“Why? What does he say?”
“He’s been trying to convince me I’m still in the cage,” he explained. Emily crossed her arms.
“I told you, Sammy,” said Lucifer, reappearing on the couch. “Only one way to get out of here.” Sam looked at Emily, who stood up. Lucifer made a gun out of his fingers and pretended to shoot at his head. Emily looked at him, then at Sam.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this sooner?” she asked. Sam didn’t answer.
“Oh, oh, Sammy, she’s doing it again,” Lucifer whispered. “You know she wants to control you because she doesn’t want you to get out of here.”
“Is this what’s been going on?” Emily asked. “All day, every day?” Sam nodded. “Jesus fucking Christ, Samuel.” She grabbed his hand and pressed on the scar. Lucifer disappeared. “Does Dean know?”
“Yeah,” Sam sat down. “He’s been looking, but he can’t find anything.”
“Dude, like, no offense, but…” Emily took a deep breath. “Are you sure you’re not just having a mental breakdown?”
“I was fine before the visions started,” Sam said. “But it’s been so long, I- I- I don’t know.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll find something,” Emily said. “Dean is shit at research, I’m sure I’ll find something in Bobby’s books in no time.”
That had been the premise, but the reality was different. She’d spent a week going through Bobby’s books driving back and forth between storages, and had just driven back to Idaho with a dozen books in her trunk. When she got back was when things started to go south. Sam was starting to lose touch with reality, answering Lucifer and needing to be reminded that he wasn’t real multiple times a day, which made Dean nervous, which made Emily nervous. She was trying to read the books, but Lucifer would not shut up, ever, and he would not leave Sam alone. It didn’t take long before he started to talk to her, too. Emily knew he wasn’t real. She knew it was all Sam’s brain, but the connection with Sam’s brain was harder and harder to loosen as he got worse and worse. After twelve hours of reading books with noise cancelling headphones that barely did anything, Emily realized she’d been moving her eyes across the pages, but had actually been reading Sam’s book through his mind. She closed it, stood up, and said:
“I’m gonna go take a walk,” but her voice echoed twice through the room. She turned. Sam had said the same exact thing and had also stood up. She looked at him and walked out. She had to get away, she had to get out of his brain before it turned too bad, before forgetting which thoughts were his and which ones were her own. Sam followed her out of the motel, Dean still asleep, but while Emily grabbed her car keys and got into her truck, and Sam disappeared behind a corner. Emily drove out into a random direction, she wasn’t going anywhere, she just needed to get away from Sam. She ended up in a nearby town she hadn’t noticed the name of while driving. There was only one diner left open. Emily parked her truck and walked in, but was horrified to see Sam was there too.
“How did you get here so fast?” she asked. Her voice echoed in her head through Sam’s thoughts. “You were walking!”
“What?” Sam asked. His voice echoed too, and Emily shook her head, trying to focus on what was real. It was like their brains were microphones held too close to a speaker, sending feedback back and forth, and it was turning into high pitched noise quickly. “No, you were walking, I took the Impala!” Emily looked down at her car keys. They weren’t the keys to her truck. “How-” Sam touched his pocket and took out the keys to Emily’s truck. She looked at him.
“Okay, you know what?” she said. Sam said it too. “Stop!” she complained. But Sam complained, too. “This isn’t funny, okay? I’m gonna leave!” Emily turned and heard the scraping of Sam’s chair. Before she reached the door, she took some money out of her bra and handed it to the bartender.
“I haven’t served you yet,” she said, confused. Emily looked at the bartender, then back at Sam, whose wallet was also out.
“What do you mean you haven’t served me yet, I was just sitting over here,” he said.
“She wasn’t talking to you,” Emily sighed. “Sorry, I’m paying for his drinks.” The bartender looked at Emily for a second, shrugged and took the money over to the register. Emily walked out of the bar and turned towards Sam. “How about you don’t follow me?” she complained. “Stay here!” Once again, Sam said the same thing, their voices echoing back and forth in their brain. Emily closed her eyes and took a step back, a headache starting to settle in. She looked down at the keys in her hands, checking if they were still the Impala’s, and they were. She located the Impala in the parking lot and walked towards it. She didn’t hear Sam’s steps, and Sam was not in the car when she turned the engine on, so she drove away. When, five miles down the road, pushing the engine to its limits, Lucifer appeared in the car, it was with Sam.
“How did you get in here?” she screamed, struggling to keep the car straight. Sam put a hand on the steering wheel to help her, but Emily pushed him away. “I got into the car alone!”
“No, you walked away, I got into the car alone!”
“You drove to the bar with my truck!” Emily complained. Lucifer grinned in the backseat. “We’re not in my truck!” Sam frowned and Emily looked at the dashboard. That was definitely her truck. “If you drove away, how am I driving?” she complained.
“You’re not!” Sam said. Lucifer laughed.
“Shut up!” “Shut up!” Emily and Sam turned. “I’m driving!” Emily continued, looking down at the steering wheel, but it was gone. She was sitting in the passenger’s seat. “Okay, that’s enough, pull over,” she said.
“What?” Sam said. “Why?”
“Because I was driving, and now you’re driving, clearly either of us should be driving right now!” she complained. Lucifer leaned into the front seats to turn up the music. Next To Normal’s tunes screamed through the speakers for a second before Emily could reach over and turn the radio off. “Will you stop?!” Sam said the same thing. “Stop!”
“Emily, you haven’t been driving, okay? It was always me!” Sam turned towards her. Emily scoffed. “I’m sure, dude, I’ve been driving us since we left the bar!”
“I didn’t get into the car with you, dude! I drove away by myself, in Dean’s car!”
“Did you?” Lucifer said. Emily and Sam both turned to complain, and didn’t have time to turn back when the car crashed into a guard rail and everything went dark.
Emily lightly tapped Sam's shoulder as she saw Dean enter the room. He was visibly worried and he was accompanied by Doctor Kadisnki, who’d also visited her and had recommended minimal contact with her brother. Not that she'd listen to anything he'd say. She knew neither her nor Sam needed a shrink. Well, maybe they did, but not for the reasons they were in the ward. Police had found them wandering around the city, talking to themselves, about Lucifer, about hell, hallucinating being back, and then an ambulance was called, and soft restraints were put in place, and by the time Dean had found out where they were, they were already in ward six. Nurses said there was no car at the scene. No crashed Impala, and that nobody in any bar in a ten-mile radius had seen them. Which wasn’t a good look for trying to get out of ward six, since that was the story they remembered. Ward six was a weird place to be. There were no doors, no forks, no knives, no shoelaces. Everything was white, and had happy phrases on it that looked like they were copy-pasted from fortune cookies. You can do this, said every single mirror in every single bathroom. They'd sit in a group and talk about what was going on in their lives. Emily knew Lucifer wasn't real. Sam did, too. So they'd lie. Say everything was fine. But Lucifer would be sitting two chairs over, making fun of other patients like that one season of House, and he felt so real sometimes Sam and Emily would tell him off out loud, which again made their task of getting out of ward six more difficult. Once a day, they'd line up for meds. Exactly like that one season of House, which made Emmily think ward six was a whole hallucination of its own, and that maybe Lucifer was right. Maybe she was still stuck in hell. Sam told her not to take the meds, and for a while, she didn’t. But as days passed, and the perspectives of doctors telling them it was all a mistake and they could go back to Idaho became thinner and thinner, she stopped listening to Sam. Maybe meds could fix her, at least some parts of her. Maybe not all visions would be gone, but just enough to make her stop hearing every single sound in the ward twice: once with her ears, and once with Sam’s ears. Maybe they would make her stop voicing Sam’s thoughts by mistake. So, she tried them, and they made the world feel… better. There wasn't another word for it. Emily knew exactly what was out there, who she was, what she'd done, but with the meds it all felt more silent. Lucifer was still there, but it didn’t matter all that much. She could have a chat with him. In the two weeks she's been in ward six, she'd already made a new friend, which wasn't that usual. She usually hated making friends. Her name was Angel. Angel didn't want her meds, and that made her the perfect friend, because Emily was glad to take them twice a day. Angel’d hide them and then spit them out, then stash them in her room. When Emily’s own meds wore off, she'd go to Angel and Angel would give her more. So the world would always be nice and quiet, and she’d only hear things once. It felt like there was a coat of snow on everything.
“How you two feeling?” asked Dean. Emily looked at him and smiled. Dean frowned.
“You look worried,” she said before Sam could answer.
“You-” Dean looked around. “Sorry, what?”
“I said you look worried!” she repeated. “Oh, and Sam- Sam always says I should shut up, but I don’t think he’s right.” Dean looked at Sam, who turned towards Emily.
“I never said that!” he complained.
“Didn't need to say it,” she said, touching her forehead with her finger. The doctor looked at her and sighed.
“Emily, remember what we talked about yesterday?” he said. Emily shrugged. “You can't hear what people think.”
“If you say so,” Emily smiled. Dean frowned, confused. She leaned closer to Dean. “Sam thought it,” she whispered. He shook his head.
“Doc, can you give us a sec?” he asked. The doctor sighed, but then nodded and left. Dean looked outside the room for a second, then back at Emily.
“Emily- are you on drugs?” he asked. Emily shrugged.
“Okay, so, I made some friends down the hall and there this girl, Angel- she’s depressed or something- And she- she doesn’t want to take her meds, so she asked me if I wanted them, and I said-”
“Okay, dude?” said Dean, pinching his nose. “So many words are coming out of your mouth right now-” Dean hesitated and sighed. “You took stuff, just say that.” Emily looked at him for a second. Sam looked at her and sighed.
“Emily, please, don’t-”
“That,” said Emily with a satisfied smile. Dean rolled his eyes.
“Right,” he said. “I’ll find a way to help you too, okay?” Emily looked at Dean: he was being serious. She should look serious too. She pulled her eyebrows into a frown. “And while I’m out there, you don’t take drugs from strangers- or nurses, for that matter- what are you doing with your face?” he asked.
“This is my serious face,” she said. Dean raised his eyebrows.
“You keep an eye on Sam while I’m gone, you think you can do that?” he asked. Emily nodded.
“That’s gonna be hard given the circumstances,” said Lucifer from behind Dean.
“OH MY GOD!” yelled Emily. Sam winced and then rolled his eyes, while Dean put a hand on his gun before turning and seeing nobody. “Who are you?” Emily pointed to Lucifer. Sam swallowed.
“God damn, Emily, how many pills did you pop?” Dean asked, confused. “What the hell is going on?”
“Just enough,” Lucifer said.
“AND HE'S TALKING TO YOU!” Emily yelled again. Sam put his hand on her mouth.
“Stop-screaming,” he complained. Emily nodded and he moved his hand away.
“Sam, he's talking to Dean!” she whispered, pointing at Lucifer. Dean turned, confused.
“It's… it's Lucifer,” Sam explained. “He's here.”
“But-” Dean frowned. “Isn't she full of meds? Shouldn't the visions stop?”
“She's on meds, but I'm not, it's not visions Dean, it's radio interference,” Sam said. Dean looked at Emily again. “She played UNO with him earlier and keeps forgetting who he is.” Dean raised his eyebrows.
“How?!” he asked. Sam shrugged. “He’s not real!”
“Okay then- my brain played UNO with her,” said Sam. “I guess?”
"This is ridiculous. Emily?" Emily turned. “You said you had Lucifer under control,” he said. She frowned. “Next thing I know I get a call from this place, what the hell happened?”
“That’s Lucifer?” Emily asked. Dean rolled his eyes. “What? He didn’t look like that back in the day!” Sam and Dean exchanged a look that Emily didn’t understand.
“Dean, he’s in my brain,” said Sam. “And Emily is also, kinda in my brain.”
“So?” Dean asked, nervous.
“So it makes sense that as I got worse she also got worse.”
“I haven’t played UNO with anybody, by the way,” she complained. Dean looked at her and frowned deeper than Emily ever saw.
“Kid, can you stay quiet for a second?” he asked, dragging his hand through his face. “I’m trying to have a conversation here.” Emily rolled her eyes.
“Dean, okay, look-” Sam took a deep breath. “I know you want to try and fix me, or us- or whatever, but I’m not sure you’re gonna find anything.”
“You don’t know that,” said Dean. “Can’t I just pull one of you two out of here?”
“You really think they’re going to let you? They found us talking nonsense in the middle of nowhere and we can barely understand what’s real and what’s not.”
“So what? You don’t want my help?” Dean complained. Emily crossed her arms and looked at Lucifer, who was staring at her.
“Staring contest?” she asked. Sam ignored her, but Dean pushed her closer to Sam so Lucifer was hidden behind him and she couldn’t see him. “Hey!”
“You see this?” Dean asked. “If I don’t find something-”
“Then I’ll die,” said Sam. “And when I die, she'll be okay.” Emily tried to open her mouth, but he covered it with his hand. “We knew this was coming.”
“No-” Dean shook his head.
“When you put my soul back Cas warned you-”
“Screw Cas!” yelled Dean. Emily tried to answer, but Sam must have caught the insults forming in her mind and covered her mouth with her hand. “Can you get fucking pissed about this?” Dean asked. “Can you?” He pointed to Emily. She looked at him and didn't answer, still trying to get a peak to Lucifer to win the staring contest. Dean sighed.
“Dean, I’m too tired to get angry. Look at me,” said Sam. “Look at Emily.” Dean shook his head. “You think she took the drugs because she’s being stupid? She’s took them because it’s the only way she would stop going crazy with me. She couldn’t take it anymore and honestly, I can’t either.” Lucifer started singing a random show tune Emily didn't know, but she tried singing along anyway. “This is what happens when you throw a soul into Lucifer’s dog bowl,” Sam continued. “There’s no cure out there. And the longer we keep going, the worse she’s going to get.” Dean looked at him and shook his head. He left.
The following morning, right after the nurses had finished their rounds and had moved to another part of their floor, Emily snuck out of her room and went to open Sam’s door. She hadn’t slept all night, meds had worn off, and so it had been another night spent trying to separate her thoughts from Sam’s, trying to not hear Lucifer doing everything to keep him awake while also not wanting Sam or herself to fall asleep because what Lucifer did in their dreams was far worse. Another night spent covering her ears with the pillow and crying, hoping that it would all stop. Sam’s thoughts were racing so much she couldn’t even distinguish them anymore, it was just a constant white noise of words and screams. As she walked through his door-less doorway, however, she saw he wasn’t in his room. She looked around. Maybe he was with a doctor? Sam’s visits were usually in the afternoon, after group therapy, so no. She turned to see if any nurse was walking around. There were none, but that’s when she saw the bathroom door and knew. Sam was in there, she could feel it. She could see the floor from Sam’s eyes. She walked to the door. It wasn’t supposed to lock, right? No doors locked in ward six. She pushed the door and entered. Sam looked at her, surprised. His watery, red eyes woke Emily up from her half-asleep state immediately. She closed the door behind her.
“Sam,” she said. Her voice came out coarse, almost like she had not drank any water in days- and she probably hadn’t. She sounded like she had a handful of gravel in her mouth.
“Maybe he’s right,” Sam said. “Maybe there’s only one way to make it stop.” Emily closed her eyes and fought against Sam’s brain to keep her own just long enough to answer.
“No, he’s full of shit, and you know it,” she said. “Now let’s get out of here before we get in trouble.” She tried to take a step towards him but her legs decided it was enough moving without ever sleeping and gave up on her. She tried to keep herself standing, but nearly hit her head on the sink. Sam looked at her. His eyes hardened as Emily struggled to sit on the floor. Emily slowly blinked and when her eyes finally focused again, Sam was retching over the toilet. “Sam, stop," She tried to drag her body towards him, but she felt heavy, she felt exhausted, overwhelmed by the choir of voices that Sam and her were sharing, by the nausea the insomnia was causing her, by the feeling of having just vomited getting to her throat even if she hadn’t. As she was thinking that, her body reacted the only way it knew, and vomited. She managed to reach the toilet too. “Stop,” She repeated, and heard Sam’s voice say the same. Emily looked back towards the door and there Lucifer was, leaning on the door. Then, she looked back at Sam and Lucifer was behind him. And just next to the toilet. Sam looked at her and winced. Emily looked down and saw she was profusely bleeding. But not really. It was all in Sam's head. At least she hoped.
“Sam, it's not real.” She looked at him. He was also bleeding. But not really. Or at least, not that she could tell. Sam didn't seem to hear her. He looked at her, terrified, crying, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. He seemed fully convinced she was dead. He kept calling her name and touching the point where she had seen her bleeding. Emily tried to stand up. Sam started pushing his body away from her.
“No, no- stop!” he said. But he wasn't looking at her. He was looking behind her. “LET HER GO!” he yelled. Emily managed to pull herself standing and stumbled into a nurse running into the bathroom. Another nurse joined and they pulled Sam up from the floor. “No, no- let me go!” he screamed, trying to set himself free from the nurses who were bringing him back to his room, restraints dangling off their scrubs. She walked to her room using the wall to keep standing and closed the door behind it. She sat on the hidden side of her bed and closed her eyes.
“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s not real. You’re okay. You’re safe.” She looked at the point were she had been bleeding from. It was clean. “Sam’s going to be oka-” The last syllable died in her throat. He wasn’t going to be okay. She had heard him think that before. She had heard him thinking it way too many times and it was becoming hard to understand whether he thought it or if she thought it. Was she going to be okay? Or not? Was she screaming for help or was Sam screaming for help? Emily put her hand inside her pillow, where she had hidden her stuff. For safekeeping and emergencies. Her pocket knife, her cigarettes, her phone.
There was only one way to know what was real and what wasn’t. She needed to feel something of her own, just once, something that wasn’t coming from Sam’s mind, something that she was sure was coming from her. She took the pocket knife and dug deep into her arm. She started bleeding. But was she bleeding? Really? Or was she not really bleeding? Emily cut again, frustrated.
“Something- just…” She whispered to her self. “I need to fucking feel something real!” As she started hitting herself with the knife, trying, to no avail, to feel some pain, she felt someone pulling her arm away from her. “No- no, let me go!” she screamed. The last thing she remembered was something puncturing her arm and then, she finally fell asleep. For a while. Not for long. She woke up back in her bed, her wrist covered in bandages and stuck in between two metal casts, still completely numb, and a chart calling for ‘partial tendon laceration subsequent from psychotic break’ hanging from her bed. Dean was sitting across the room, looking at her.
“You ruined your good shooting hand,” he said.
“Dean?” she asked, sitting up.
"Why do you look so surprised?"
"Because it's not visiting day, so- what are you…" Emily trailed off. Dean pumped his eyebrows. “You're not real,” she said.
“Big shocker,” he said. “Sam's not at fault this time.”
“Great,” Emily said. “Now I'm losing my mind.”
“Are you gonna do a routine?” Dean asked. That was a weird thing to say, even for Dean. “Or are you going to get five friends and sing Psych Ward Tango?”
“Are you-” Emily frowned. “Are you doing musical references?”
“Oh, I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m so alive,” Dean sang with a smirk. Yeah, she was hallucinating hard. Dean quoting Next To Normal was unheard of. “And I feed of the fear that’s behind your eyes, and I need you to need me it’s no surprise, I’m aliiiiive, so aliiive, I’m alive!”
“Four times a week?” said Sam’s voice. “That’s a lot, isn’t it?” Emily turned to see Sam standing in her doorway. He was barely able to stand, but he was real, or at least, as far as Emily could tell.
“What the doctor recommended,” Emily said. Sam smirked.
“Why's Dean doing Next To Normal references?” he asked.
“That's not Dean,” she sighed. “At least not as long as that-” she pointed behind Sam, where Lucifer was waving, singing along to Roxanne from Mouline Rouge. “...is not Lucifer.” Sam didn't seem to follow her. “They're not real.” She explained. “They're our brains… slowly disintegrating.” Sam sighed and walked into the room. “And I really wish they would stop singing right now!” She looked at Dean, who smirked and kept signing.
“I'm sorry,” he said. “It's all my fault.”
“What? Sam, it's not-” Emily complained. Sam shook his head.
“Yes, it is- I should have kept my mouth shut,” he said.
“Sam, that’s not true, okay?” she said. Sam rolled his eyes. “We’re gonna be fine.” Sam didn’t answer. “Really.”
“You gotta know I don’t believe you, right?” Sam said, sitting down on the bed next to Emily.
“One of us has to,” she said. Sam crossed his arms.
“They told me what you did,” he said. Emily looked away. “A few more minutes and you'd have cut your hand out while I felt all of it.”
“Sorry,” Emily whispered. “I just-”
“I know,” Sam smiled. “Don’t forget the telepathy goes both ways,” he said. “Look what I stole from the kitchen.” Sam took a candy bar out of his pocket. “I bet this one doesn't have anything weird and definitely created by our brain in it.” He tried to pull it open, but couldn't. With a hint of frustration, he tried again, then placed the bar on the bed.
“So, did you hear from Dean at all? I mean- real Dean?” asked Sam, trying to change the subject. Emily shook her head.
“Nope. Radio silence,” she said, taking the candy bar and opening it with her one working hand and her teeth. She broke it in half. “Here, let’s share it.”
“Thanks,” he whispered, looking at it and biting the corner of it.
“You know, you can just give the delivery guy ten bucks to bring you extra candy,” she said.
“I’m f-”
“Dude,” Emily interrupted him. “I just saw you struggle to open a candy.”
“I'm not the one who almost cut her hand off,” Sam answered. “Look, I'm fine, seriously, it's not like I can skip lunch here.” Emily rolled her eyes and threw the candy wrapper across the room, attempting to put it in the bin. She missed. “Emily, you need to get with the program and get out of here.”
“You really think they would?” she scoffed. “Dude, I’m fucked up way beyond the visions, maybe I oughta be here.”
“You know we're gonna die if Dean doesn't find anything, right?” Sam said. Emily shrugged.
“He's not gonna let you die,” Emily said. “We should be fine.”
Emily’s phone lit up in the pillow cover, Dean’s name flashing repeatedly, but no one came to answer it. Just one room over, Emily was on the floor, hiding under Sam’s bed. She couldn’t escape. She was surrounded. He was everywhere. Lucifer was on everyone’s face. It had started two hours before. She’d woken up to Sam’s confused string of thoughts, not a single one of them making any sense and found him vomiting in the bathroom, or- trying to vomit. There was nothing left in him to retch, not food, at least. He didn't oppose any resistance when she pulled him away from the toilet or when she helped him clean his face and when she walked him back to his room. He just looked at her, almost in wonder, but didn't say a single word. She talked to him, tried to get him to say something, but it was like Sam wasn't there anymore, like he was just an empty shell. When nurses came around, that was when true Hell started in ward six. Everyone looked like Lucifer, and Sam screamed at every single person that dared to show up in the room. And even after they sedated him, the visions didn’t go away, and neither did Sam’s fear. He was just too drugged to scream or move. When even the last nurse was gone, Emily finally came out from under the bed, her phone vibrating for the tenth time in her room, the hallucination of Dean was leaning on the door. Emily ignored him and sneaked back to her room.
"Didn't you say just yesterday that you were gonna be okay?" asked Dean with a smirk, following her.
“Shut up,” she whispered, putting one hand in her pillow to look for a cigarette. “And yes, I did say that, we will be okay.” She forced the window open and sat across it, lit cigarette in her left hand, outside the window.
"You mean okay like all the people in Rent okay or…"
"STOP QUOTING MUSICALS TO ME!" she yelled. "YOU'RE NOT DEAN- YOU'RE- YOU'RE NOT EVEN REAL!"
"That's rude!” Dean complained. “I don't understand why you're so mad! I’m just trying to talk to you!”
"Well, don’t!” Emily hissed. She put both legs back inside, hoping no nurses had heard her.
“Why don't you just admit you were wrong and that Sam's situation is only going to get worse?!”
“Because he’s not going to die, okay? I know D-”
“Emily?!” She heard another voice, Dean’s voice. He appeared on the doorway with Castiel. Wait, two Deans? She didn’t think it would be possible for the visions to get even worse. She looked at the newly arrived Dean and at the angel.
“Which show is Take me or Leave me from?” she asked. Dean looked at her and frowned, and Castiel tilted his head slightly. Before Dean could answer, the angel spoke.
“You look terrible,” he said. Dean turned towards him and opened his mouth to complain. “Who were you talking to?” asked the angel. Emily crossed her arms.
“Answer my question,” she said. “Take me or Leave Me, which show?”
“I- I don't fucking know,” Dean said. “There's more than one musical?” Okay, he was real. “What's going on with you?!”
“Nothing,” she lied. “What are you two doing here?”
“Cas has an idea,” Dean said. “Don't worry kid, we're getting you out.” Emily nodded and threw the cigarette out of the window. She looked at the chair fake Dean had been sitting on, and he was gone. Emily looked at real Dean leave the room, still not one hundred percent sure he was real of if he was just another hallucination.
“So, you were saying?” Fake Dean was back on the chair, smirking. “Something about not wanting to admit Sam is going to-”
“Shut up,” Emily whispered.
Dean’s journal
March 14th, 2013
Haven't done this in a while, but Sam and Emily are sleeping (fucking finally) and Cas is gone, so I guess I'll just do this. I knew what I was going to see. With Sam, I knew exactly how bad he was, I knew he was going to look like shit. I was ready, more or less, to see him completely out of it. But Emily? I wasn't expecting what I saw.
Of course I knew about her cutting herself.
Of course I knew she was sharing Sam's visions.
But I never expected to see her talking to herself and starving. That was a surprise but it really shouldn't have. With Sam, it never even crossed my mind that he was going to die. I always knew, in the back of my mind, that he was going to survive this. Never doubted him for a second that he had it in him to survive. And it's not that Emily isn't strong, but it's like her head is full of darkness, all the time. Not a single happy thought in there. Which I am no stranger to. I know how hard it can be to have to live in it. I should have known this was going to happen. The fact that she's still alive is just proof that she's strong, because with her arms full of cuts and no food in her system, she looked like she should be dead.
And I did nothing to stop it. In hindsight, I probably shouldn't have let her stay there, I probably should have pulled her out and brought her home. She'd have been better and I wouldn’t have had to get a call telling mme she tried to cut her hand off. She wasn't going to like it, being away from Sam, but she's tiny enough that I could have dragged her out and, as a nice bonus, give her one more reason to hate me. It's not like going from one thousand to one thousand and one is gonna change anything. Also who the fuck am I to separate the Miracle Girls? More like Miracle Twins. Siamese twins or whatever it is they're called. The nurse said she tried to kill herself again, they called it psychotic break but I can put two and two together. Her arms looked rough, and she had bandage on her left wrist. I always think she would call me, but the truth is now that Sam is back, she would just rely on him. Not me. So what the hell am I even good for? They just need each other, certainly not me. How did it even start? I can't quite point to the moment I realized Sam had managed what I've been trying all these years. Maybe it was the telepathy? Maybe it was when they ran away and met Ava. Who the fuck knows. But somewhere along the line, Sam and Emily stopped being reluctant rebel siblings and started being best friends. And all I can think about is that I want to be in his place. I used to think I deserved to be in his place, because I was with her from when she arrived, because I tried harder than dad, because I was older. But when Sam died, I realized I'm no good at being a brother. I never hated Emily. I never wanted to hurt her, but looking at her was a constant reminder that he was dead, and I did the only thing I'm good for, which is hurt people. But it wasn't her I hated. It was the fact she wasn't Sam, even if she felt like she was. I wanted to protect her, like I protected Sam all my life, but she acted like she didn't need or want protecting. Which she did. She still does. Instead she acted like I was the one who needed protection. And that was wrong in any way possible. The fact she feels like Sam is just terrifying. It means when she dies, it's going to take everything in me not to fucking call it quits.
Which, when I think of it, is exactly what I did when she killed herself. I brought Sam back because being alone was terrifying, and by bringing Sam back I made sure I wasn't going to be around long enough to find out if having Sam would fix missing Emily. I spent three months regretting every detail of my life and every interaction I ever had with her. I never once cared that I was going to die, it just felt like I deserved it. I wanted to think that if I ever saw her again, I was going to try harder, do better. But I knew that was never going to happen. I had the chance, and I fucking blew it before it even happened. Hell happened. She knew. I knew. And when we both woke up topside, we both knew there was no coming back from that. I thought she’d leave, but she didn’t, which I can’t explain. What I did couldn't be fixed, couldn't be changed, and couldn't be forgiven. But Emily is strong in a way I never understood, and she stuck around. And in the end she even gave me the keys to her apartment. She gave me a normal life. Which of course I had to go and fuck up. Now she's alive, and she's back home. This is my third chance at being a decent human being. And I am sure I'm going to fuck it up.
Emily walked in the kitchen and opened a beer. She’d been out of ward six for a month, and she’d been back in the hunting life up to her neck. The briefcase they’d stolen from Dick Roman was still sitting on the table, the weird stone that they’d found in it and the mallet Dean had used to set it free still on it. Emily looked at it for a second, fridge still open, then Dean’s hand pulled the fridge door open and grabbed a beer for himself.
“Meg called,” he said, opening the beer. “Cas is awake.” Emily turned towards him. “Happened yesterday, right when we opened the damn thing.” He pointed to the table.
“Yeah, whatever this is, it’s important,” she said. “Is Cas okay?”
“I don’t know, listen-” he said, tapping his fingers on the table. “I know it’s supposed to be my turn to answer Bobby's calls, but-”
“It’s Cas, I get it,” said Emily. “You and Sam should go, I’ll handle the phones.” Sam walked in behind Dean.
“I can stay here if you want,” he said. “I’d really rather not go back there again.” Emily looked at Dean.
“What do you say?” she asked. “We haven’t been on a hunt alone for a while now.” Dean seemed hesitant. “Oh, come on, it will be fun,” she smiled. “We can go find a hook up without him being on our neck.”
“Hey!” Sam complained. Dean smirked.
“Okay, you know what?” Dean took a sip of beer. “Why not.”
Emily took the front seat and kicked off her shoes. Dean immediately followed, closing the door as he entered.
“What’s with always taking off your shoes?” he asked. “I don’t get it.”
“I grew up dancing ballet and contemporary, normal shoes and my feet don’t go along,” she explained. “Sitting in chairs normally doesn’t, either.” Dean nodded, switching out the tape in the car radio with another tape. Emily put the tape back in his box and the box back on the floor behind her seat. “So, how you doing?”
“Fine,” Emily crossed her legs on the seat and Dean started the car.
“Can I ask you something?” he asked, hesitant. Emily nodded. “Who were you talking with when we came to see you in the hospital?” Emily closed her eyes and leaned back in the seat. She sighed.
“I mean-” She hesitated just long enough to get another curious glare from Dean. “It was you,” she confessed. Dean kept looking at the road, his knuckles whitening on the steering wheel while Emily felt her stomach contorted. It felt wrong to tell him about it. Like confessing your love to your crush when you know he’s with someone else. Dean rubbed his eyes.
“I mean, that’s-” he sighed deeply and stumbled on his words a couple of times before forming a full sentence. “Does that mean I am to you what Lucifer was to Sam?”
“What? No!” said Emily, putting her feet down from the seat. “It’s hard to explain.” Dean shook his head and turned the music up. Emily turned it back down. “Lucifer was always torturing Sam, he was keeping him awake at night, making him see stuff, you- you were just there,” she sighed. “You talked with me and used musical theater references.”
“I did musical theater references?” asked Dean, confused. “Like what?”
“Like, Next To Normal references,” said Emily. Dean briefly looked at her, confused. “You wouldn't know it.”
“And I quoted this thing?” he asked. Emily nodded.
“Was getting kinda annoying to be honest.”
“I don’t talk about that stuff.” Emily crossed her legs back up and sighed.
“That’s the point, it wasn’t memories, it was just…” she trailed off. What were they? Not visions. Not memories. “I think you were my brain trying to keep itself from disintegrating.” Dean nodded. “What’s important is that it’s over.”
“Is it really?” asked Dean, nervous. “Because you don’t look fine.” Emily crossed her arm.
“I told you, I'm fine now,” she complained. Dean took a deep breath and changed lanes.
“I’m gonna have to trust you on that,” he said. Two hours later, he parked half a mile away from the hospital. They entered and walked to Cas’ room, where Meg was already waiting for them. Castiel turned around and smiled. Emily looked at Dean, whose frown had lifted off his face to leave space for something else. Emily didn’t have the time to think about what it could be, that the angel spoke.
“Pull my finger,” he said, pointing a finger to Dean. When Dean hesitated, Emily did the pulling herself, and all the lights exploded, together with a window. Castiel laughed, and Emily let out a breathy chuckle. Dean scowled at her.
“What?” she asked. “It’s a cool trick.” She moved a finger and used her powers to turn on a lamp. Dean scowl grew deeper. “Hey, it’s not like Meg is gonna freak out, right?”
“Whatever,” he rolled his eyes. “Cas, are you alright?” he asked.
“Yes. Of course,” said the angel. “Oh. Outside today, in the garden, I followed a honeybee.” he added. “I saw the route of flowers. It's all right there, the whole plan. There's nothing to add.” Emily looked at Meg, who shrugged.
“Been like this since he woke up,” she said. “Useless.”
“Look at her,” Castiel said with a smile. “My caretaker, all that thorny pain, so beautiful.” Emily smirked and looked at Meg as Dean scoffed.
“Oh, I see what’s going on,” Emily said. Meg rolled her eyes.
“I told you, no poetry,” she complained. “Put out or shut up.”
“Okay,” Dean said, putting his hands in front of him. “You woke up last night?”
“Yeah,” Castiel said, pacing back towards the window and sitting down with a smile. “I was woken up by a ping that pierced me.” Emily opened her bag and showed him the stone tablet.
“Anything to do with this?” she asked.
“Of course,” Castiel said. “You were the ones, I guess it makes sense.”
“Why?” Dean asked. “What’s that?”
“Because who better than you two to free the Word of God,” Castiel said, pushing away from the window and pulling Emily and Dean into a hug. “Oh, I love you guys.” Emily looked at Meg.
“You sure you didn’t sneak anything into his drink?” she asked. The demon shook her head. Dean was the first one to pull away from the hug.
“Alright,” he sighed, straightening his jacket. “So that piece of rock is the Word of God? What’s it say?” Castiel smiled.
“Did you know that a cat's penis is sharply barbed along its shaft?” he asked. Dean dragged a hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “I know for a fact the females were not consulted about that.”
“Okay, Cas, I’d listen to your animal facts all night, be were kinda in a rush,” said Emily. “Can you take a look at this?” she handed the tablet to him.
“This is the handwriting of Metatron,” the angel said. Dean opened his mouth, but Emily interrupted him.
“No relation to the guy from Transformers, dummbass,” she said. Dean frowned and closed his mouth. “Isn’t he like the scribe of God?” she asked Castiel. He nodded. “Okay, so… what does it say?” The angel looked at the tablet for a few seconds and whispered a few words, then handed it back.
“It was not meant for angels to read,” he said.
“Okay, give me that,” said Meg. Castiel moved it towards her, but Dean took it. “Hey!”
“Back off, okay?”
“Oh, come on, Dean,” Emily sighed, taking the tablet from Dean and giving it back to Castiel. “You really think she’s gonna run with it?”
“Finally, someone who doesn’t treat me as a second class citizen,” Meg complained. “It’s my ass, too, you know?” she said.
“I said back off!”
“Jesus, Dean, w-”
“Don’t like conflict,” said Castiel before disappearing with a flutter. The tablet stayed behind and fell on the floor, shattering in three pieces. Emily looked at Dean and shook her head.
“Really had to do that, didn’t you?” she asked. He rolled his eyes and left the room. Emily threw the empty bag on the floor and started picking up the pieces and putting them in the bag. Meg handed her the last one. “Thanks,” Emily sighed.
“You really like to piss your brother off, don’t you?” the demon asked. Emily rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, I get it. Demon blood and all that.”
“The demon blood has nothing to do with me and Dean,” Emily complained, standing back up and leaving the bag on the floor.
“Yeah, you say this now, but I remember when you threw me off that building just to show him you weren’t an idiot,” the demon said. Emily closed the bag and stood back up.
“That’s not what happened, Meg,” Emily said. “I threw you off that building because you were trying to kill us.”
“Don’t hold a grudge, Imagine Demon, I saved your ass this time.”
“Yeah,” Emily sighed and took her pack of cigarettes out of her pocket. She took out all the cigarettes and a plastic bag fell into her hands.
“What do we have here?” Meg asked, following Emily to the window. “I’m gonna guess your brothers don’t know about this.” Emily looked at her and shoved a pill in her mouth before lighting up a cigarette and holding it out of the broken window. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna tell them.”
“It’s just Risperdal,” Emily said. “Not like it’s going to do anything.”
“If it really didn’t do anything, you wouldn’t take it,” the demon said. Emily scoffed and looked back at the bag that she’d left on the floor, but it was gone. She ran outside of the room and saw a figure run away.
“Hey!” she yelled, running after the shadow and checking she still had her gun in her jeans. She ran out of the building, closing in on the thief, and tackled him down when she managed to catch up. Meg walked in a few seconds after and frowned. “Thanks for the help, by the way,” she complained. The demon rolled her eyes. Emily tried to take the bag away from his hands, but failed. The thief was holding it with both arms, desperately trying to keep it. When Emily moved away from the person, she was able to see he was a man. Scratch that. It was a fucking kid. “Who the hell-” A kid she’d seen before. “W- Kevin Tran?” she frowned. Kevin tried to escape. “What the hell are you doing here?!”
“Please don't try to kill me again,” he said, trying to shield his face with the bag. Emily rolled her eyes and stood up, dragging Kevin up with her.
“I saved your ass, dude, what are you talking about?”
“Don’t-” Kevin's eyes filled with tears and Emily slowly let go of him, looking at Meg. “Please, I- I- I'm in advanced placement, I need to take this-” Emily looked at Meg, then at the bag. The moment Emily’s hands were off Kevin’s shirt, he started to run again. Tired, Emily flicked her finger and used her powers to make him fall to the ground. Meg moved her hand and Kevin was dragged back to them.
“Not bad, Imagine Demon,” the demon said. “We would be a good team.”
“Shut up,” Emily sighed, grabbing Kevin’s shirt again. She looked at him. “I don't remember biblical artifacts being in my AP study materials,” she said. Emily raised her eyebrows, trying to take the bag back. Kevin frowned.
“You… in advanced placement?” he looked at her.
“Okay, a thief and also rude,” Emily said. “My bag, Kevin from advanced placement.” Seeing that Kevin wasn’t giving her the bag, she tried to get it from him with force, but to no avail. “Okay, I’m sorry but I don't have time for this.” Emily was about to punch him, but he tried running again. Emily held onto his shirt, making him fall to the floor, one arm stuck in a sleeve. He let go of the bag. “Jesus, you are the worst thief ever,” she said.
“Please, I have to keep it!” Kevin begged.
“Yeah, sure you do,” Emily scoffed.
“The voices. They said I-” he tried to say, but Meg didn't let him finish.
“You don’t even know what that is,” she said, interrupting him. Kevin shook his head. “Open the bag. Take a look.”
“You’re not gonna ask about the voices?” asked Kevin, confused. He slowly opened the zipper. Emily raised her eyebrows, her hand still wrapped around Kevin’s shirt.
“Do you want us to ask about the voices?” she said. Kevin looked at her for a moment, then took out two of the pieces of the tablet and moved them closer. The second they touched, they put themself back together with a glow “Oh,” said Emily, confused. “That’s-” She looked back at Meg.
“I think it’s better if this conversation continues inside.” the demon said.
“What’s leviathan?” asked Kevin, walking down the hall while staring at the tablet. Emily stopped walking, Meg bumping into her with a profanity.
“What did you say?” she asked, letting Meg through.
“It says here-”
“You can read that?!” the demon asked, walking around Emily. Kevin tightened his eyes.
“Kinda,” he said. “It hurts a little, but- yeah, it’s talking about leviathans and how they came to be.” Kevin swallowed. “God locked them up far away, like in jail because-” Kevin trailed off, fear dawning on his face. “They’re real, aren’t they?”
“Yeah-” sighed Emily. “And killing them has been kind of a pain in my ass, so- does it say anything about it?” Kevin tried to look at the tablet again, but he closed his eyes. “I don’t know- It’s hard to look at it for too long.” He groaned in pain. Meg touched Emily’s shoulder. When she turned, the demon’s eyes were black and a light flickered.
“Something’s up,” the demon said. Kevin noticed her eyes and screamed. Emily put a hand on his mouth.
“Jesus Christ,” she groaned, rolling her eyes. “You’re gonna-” A woman appeared in the room. Judging from the way she was dressed, it was an angel.
“Step away from the prophet,” she said. Emily turned towards Kevin, who looked even more shocked than before.
“Me?!” He pointed at himself.
“Sole keeper of the word on earth-” Announced the angel. “We are here to take you.”
“What do you mean take?!” Kevin asked, trying to run again. Emily rolled her eyes and held him from his shirt again.
“He's not going anywhere with you assholes,” she said. Kevin looked at her, confused. The angel stared at Emily, then extracted a blade from her sleeve.
“Kill the demon and her lover,” she said. Five more angels entered the room.
“Lover?!” Repeated Meg, extracting a shining silver blade from her sleeve. Another angel appeared in the room and tried to hold her back, and Meg used the silver blade to get away, cutting him on the shoulder. The cut bled white light.
“Where did you get that?” yelled the first angel. Before Emily could react and use her powers, a light pervaded the room and the angels were gone. Emily turned back and saw Dean holding Castiel outside of the room, his hand pressed against an enochian sigil.
“Good timing,” Emily said, letting go of Kevin. She turned back to Meg. “You got more of those?” Before the demon could answer, Kevin started screaming, hugging the tablet bag.
“What is happening?!” he yelled. Emily rolled her eyes and hit the back of his head.
“Would you stop screaming?” she complained. “Jesus Christ-”
“What is…” Dean gestured towards Kevin. “...that?”
“His name is Kevin from advanced placement,” Emily said.
“Actually, my name is Kevin Tran,” he whispered. Emily took the bag from him. Dean looked at Emily, confused.
“He’s a prophet,” Emily explained.
“Alright, here we are,” Emily said, throwing her bag in a corner. Kevin stood outside the room. “Help yourself from the fridge, but mind the hotdogs, they've been here since 2005.”
“Is this a sex dungeon?” Kevin asked. Emily frowned. “This looks like a sex dungeon.”
“What- it's not a sex dungeon!” Emily answered. “So, I was saying, the hot dogs-”
“Those things on the walls, they look like they're-”
“This is not a sex dungeon, this is a cabin, and that's hunting gear,” Emily said. “What kind of porn do you- You know what? I don't wanna know.” she sighed. “Not a sex dungeon. Please, just-” Kevin stepped inside the cabin holding his bag with two hands. “Jesus, Kevin from advanced placement, loosen up, okay? You're safe.” She grabbed a pack of chips and threw it at him. He struggled to grab it and it ultimately fell to the ground with the bag. “Okay, makes sense,” she whispered. “Advanced placement and football usually don't go together.”
“What did you say?” Kevin asked, picking up the chips.
“I said you should eat something,” she said with a fake smile.
“I'm not hungry,” Kevin said.
“Okay, suit yourself,” Emily sighed. She walked to the fridge and opened herself a beer. He sat down at the table and opened the bag. He put the tablet down and stared at it. Emily leaned by the kitchen sink. Sam and Dean walked in.
“So, Leviathans, they’re… real?” Kevin asked, hands shaking over the tablet. Emily nodded. “And angels? With wings?”
“Yup,” she said. “They got junk, tho.” Kevin looked at her and frowned. “Oh, sorry, they’ve got a reproductive system,” she explained. Kevin rolled his eyes.
“I know what ‘junk’ means,” he complained.
“Okay, do you also know what all that means?” she asked, pointing at the tablet.
“Yeah, it’s- uh- it’s sort of a ‘in case of emergency’ note,” Kevin looked up from the tablet and at Emily. “What did they mean by ‘prophet’?” Emily sighed and scratched the back of her neck. Sam was walking towards the cabin. “I don’t want to be a prophet.”
“No, you don’t,” Emily said. Dean walked into the room.
“So, how you liking the old place?” he asked Kevin, walking around the table and grabbing a beer from the fridge. Kevin didn't answer. Dean looked at Emily, who shrugged. Sam walked in, too.
“Okay, I got some news from Cas,” he said. “Apparently, the angels want Kevin because he’s supposed to go to the desert to, and I quote, ‘learn the Word away from men’.”
“What?” Kevin turned, alarmed. “No, I can’t go to the desert- I’m applying to Princeton!”
“Pff,” Emily scoffed, hiding behind the beer bottle. Sam scowled at her.
“I get the sense you don’t like me,” Kevin said, looking at Emily. She shrugged. “What did I even do?”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Advanced Placement,” Emily said. “Look, as long as you’re with us, you’re not going anywhere.” She looked at Sam. “Where the hell is Cas?”
“I’m here,” said the angel’s voice. Emily didn’t turn and kept drinking the beer.
“Can we count on you, Cassie Ferguson?” she asked.
“No, I don’t fight anymore,” he said. “I watch the bees now.”
“Okay,” Emily sighed and looked at him. “Any chance you could help us shelter God’s chosen one in your spare time?”
“Now I’m getting the sense you don’t like anybody,” Kevin said. Emily ignored him and opened a drawer. Next to some dirty forks, there was a jar full of chalk. She placed it on the kitchen counter.
“All the adults, get to work,” she said. “The kid needs a safe space to do his homework.”
Emily rolled her eyes, her fifth chalk breaking in half mid sigil, and grabbed another one. She finished the symbol and stood back up, stretching her back. Kevin was staring at the tablet, fingers tapping on the table.
“I’m gonna get some dinner started,” she said. “You like expired spaghetti-os?” she asked. Kevin didn’t answer. He kept staring at the tablet. “Talking to you, Advanced Placement.” Kevin still didn’t lift his eyes off the stone. “Okay, fine,” she sighed. “What would you like to eat, Kevin Tran, sir?” Dean walked behind her and hit the back of her head. She groaned, but Kevin seemed to be still ignoring her. “Kevin!” she called. Sam turned.
“Kevin?” he called. Kevin still didn't move his eyes off the tablet, fingers tapping faster and faster, until his fingers were just pressing on the table. Emily frowned and opened another beer. “Is he… okay?” Sam asked. Emily shrugged again.
“Okay, no,” Kevin said. “No, no, no, nope-” He looked at Emily. “You're telling me all this stuff is real?” Emily nodded. “Nope, no, sorry, just- no,” Kevin stood up, but stumbled back and fell off the chair. He stood back up.
“Oh please, tell me this is not what I think it is,” Emily whispered, throwing her head back. Dean looked at her and smirked. “It's so not funny,” she said.
“This is too much,” Kevin said, pushing the tablet away. “I- What happened to my life?” Kevin put one hand on his chest, his breath cutting short. “Word-keeper?” he said. “Fuck that, okay? I want to go home, I-”
“Kevin,” Emily sighed.
“No, no, I can't stay! I have finals in-” Emily rolled her eyes and looked at Sam.
“Care to do anything?” she asked. Sam looked at Dean.
“Don't look at me, I’m no good with people,” Dean said. “I doubt Bobby kept brown bags.” Emily looked at Sam again. “Also, you're the one who decided to bring him here.”
“What was I supposed to do?” she complained. Sam and Dean kept looking at her. “Seriously?” she whispered. “Okay, but don't come to me complaining.” Emily pushed away from the sink and walked towards Kevin, who was incoherently talking about finals, being a prophet, advanced placement, cello lessons, whatever. She grabbed him by the arm and dragged him towards the shower.
“What are you doing?” Kevin asked, trying to fight back. Emily turned the water on. “Hey, no let me go!” he complained, but Emily shoved him inside the shower. With a scream, Kevin got covered in freezing water, which soaked his hair, then his clothes. He tried to close the tap, but Emily held his hands in front of him. “Stop! It's- It's cold- Stop!” A split second after, Kevin managed to drag Emily inside the shower and use the moment of distraction to get out of it himself.
“Fuck!” she yelled. Now also soaked in freezing water, Emily dragged Kevin back in the shower. “Jesus- stand still!” she said.
“No- I- It's cold!”
“Stand still!” She stopped him right under the freezing water and held him against all his struggles until- a few seconds later, Kevin started crying. Emily moved her now soaker hair off her face and saw Sam standing in the doorway.
Ever heard of just… talking to people?
What did I say about complaining?
Yeah, but-
It worked, didn't it? Looking at Sam, Emily pushed Kevin out of the shower and left the room.
“Can someone get him some fucking dry clothes?” she said, walking to the bedroom while dragging her hair off her face and shoving water off her sleeves. She slammed the door behind her and took off the wet clothes. Dean opened the door. “What do you want?”
“You sure you're alright?” he asked. Emily scoffed. “Couldn’t help but notice you're being kinda harsh with the kid.”
“Why?” Emily asked. Dean crossed his arms. “He's done being a kid, the quicker he learns how to handle this shit, the better.” Dean looked at her and shook his head. “What?! You said this shit to me like- a thousand times! And it worked, didn't it?!”
“Did it?” Dean asked. Emily wore a dry t-shirt and shook her head. “Maybe I was wrong, ya know?” She scoffed. Dean sighed. Emily put her wet clothes over a chair to dry.
“No you weren’t,” Emily complained. “Can you help me with the damned bandage?” she pointed to her wrist. “Wasn’t supposed to get wet.”
“Yeah, because you’re being super clean with it, right?” Dean said, opening a drawer and taking out a first aid kit. “Sit down.”
“You were right, by the way,” Emily said, dropping on her bed. Dean grabbed her arm. “About needing to get over it, about not ever getting out of this life- You and dad were right, all along,” she said. Dean shook his head. “So no, I don't think I was harsh with him, he's a prophet, he's deep to his neck into this, and chances are, and he's not getting out alive!”
“Yeah, maybe, but, you know-” Dean took a deep breath. “Does he have to live the rest of his life with you being an asshole?” he asked. Emily looked at him and tightened her eyes.
“Look who's talking,” she said, taking her arm back and grabbing the first aid kit from Dean’s hands. She stood up and walked across the cabin and grabbed her cigarettes off the table. She could have stopped on the deck to smoke, but decided to take a walk instead. She made her way about half an hour into the woods following the path that went from behind the house to a clearing with a bench. She sat down. At the bottom of the pack of cigarette pack were two things. Her last bit of weed, and her last two pills Angel had given to her before she and Sam left ward six. That girl must have been hoarding pills for months. Emily grabbed one of the pills and swallowed it. She took a deep breath: it barely made any difference anymore. She grabbed the weed and a cigarette. She emptied the cigarette in her hand, mixed it with the weed and then struggled to get it back inside. By the time she was done she heard some steps approaching her. She looked up, hoping it wasn't Dean, and was surprised to see Kevin.
“Hey,” he said, clearing his voice. He was holding a paper bag close to him. “Sam and- and Dean, they sent me to get you some dinner.” Emily frowned.
“Oh,” Emily said, reaching for the paper bag. “Why did they send you? You don't know where you're going, you could have gotten lost.”
“I don't know,” Kevin whispered. “They just said to come up the path.” Emily sighed and Kevin handed her the paper bag. She put it on the bench next to her. “Alright, I- I’ll go-” Kevin pointed back towards the path.
“What?” Emily said. “No, come on, it's getting dark, you're not hiking back alone, dude,” she complained. “I'm gonna be coming back in a while, just wait here for like- ten minutes.” Kevin nodded and looked at her. He stood in front of the bench, looking at it like the sole touch of it could set fire to the entire forest. “Dude,” Emily sighed. “You can sit down.”
“Okay,” Kevin stepped towards the bench, moved the cigarette pack out of the way, dusted the bench with his hand and carefully sat down, posture perfect, both feet on the ground, back flat against the back of the bench. Emily looked at him and remembered there was a time she, too, would have sat the same way. Then she looked at herself and found she was sitting on some dried leaves, legs crossed, unmatching socks and a blood stain on her overalls. Holding a joint after having swallowed a Risperdal meant for someone else. Back in the day she wouldn't even drink beer, but maybe Kevin was a little more relaxed than her. She lit up the joint and moved it towards him.
“What is that?” he asked. Emily huffed.
“It's weed, Kevin from advanced placement,” she said. “Helps to get the edge off.”
“I'm fine,” he said. “Thanks.”
“Did you have some dinner?” she asked, opening the paper bag. Kevin shook his head. “What the hell do you mean ‘no’?”
“I- uh- I don't eat meat and Dean ordered me a burger, so…” Emily raised her eyebrows and looked inside the paper bag. A salad. She took a deep breath and handed it to him. “It's fine,” Kevin said. “You shouldn't skip dinner.”
“I'm not hungry,” she said. “You can have it, it's just vegetables.”
“You sure?” Kevin asked.
“Jesus, yes I am sure!” she snapped. “You're not gonna skip dinner because Dean's an idiot!” Kevin lowered his eyes and took the salad out of the bag. Emily looked at him and felt something eating her stomach. She wasn't hungry, but she had just recognised what she had been doing to Kevin: it was the same thing Dean had done to her for years. And it had been a pain in the ass to go through. “Sorry,” Emily sighed. “Just- they're driving me up the damn wall, it's not your fault.”
“It's fine,” Kevin whispered. Emily shook her head and took another hit of the joint. Did she use to be like that? No way. She used to be a bitch. She still was. So maybe Kevin wasn't more chill than she was or anything like that, he was just more scared.
“This must suck for you,” Emily said, holding the lighter at the tip of the joint. Kevin didn't answer. “You know, I've been in your position.”
“I- I'd rather not talk about it,” Kevin said. Emily took a deep breath. The sun had gone over the side of the hill, so it was pitch black at that point.
“I hope you brought a flashlight,” she said. Kevin remained silent. “Alright, five minutes and we're going.”
“Okay man, I have read this more times than the Playboy I found in dad's duffel,” Dean said, putting down the notebook he was holding. Emily looked up for her photocopies of the notebook and Sam from his laptop.
“Anna Nicole?” she asked. Dean and Sam turned towards her and frowned. “What? You think you're the only ones who got lonely sometimes?”
“Okay, that's gross,” Sam said. “But I don't think there's much more to figure out, right? Cut the head and the body will flounder.”
“And the head is Dick,” Emily said. “So we just gotta find these ingredients and kill him.” Dean sighed and took a sip from the beer that sat next to him at all hours.
“So what, we kill Dick and all Leviathans just go with him? Am I the only one who feels like that's way too easy?” Sam asked.
“Maybe,” Dean answered.
“How's ‘maybe’ a good thing?” Emily said. “Yeah, we kill their boss, but if they're sticking around we still have ninety nine problems.”
“One issue at the time,” Dean said. “This is literally God's word, I don't know where we're gonna find more information.”
“Okay, so what's the ingredients?” Emily asked. “A bone washed in three bloods of the fallen, what else?”
“Bone from a human that is light and good, blood from a fallen angel, which we already got, blood from the ruler of fallen humanity,” Sam looked up at Emily.
“I guess Crowley's our best guess, right?” Sam nodded and Dean wrote something down in the notebook. “Also, blood from the father of fallen beasts.”
“Which I think means an Alpha,” Dean said. “Which is gonna be a problem since Cas killed them all.”
“Should we make it his problem, too?” Emily asked.
“I’d really rather not,” Dean said. “Last time I called him he showed up naked, covered in bees. Got stung in places I'd rather not tell.” Emily raised her eyebrows and looked at him, then decided not to raise any more questions.
“Yeah,” she sighed. “Kept booping Kevin's nose like he was a puppy.”
“Not that far off,” Dean answered, standing up with a grunt. Emily huffed. “Where's the kid, by the way?”
“What do you mean?” Emily asked. “I thought you brought him to like- a safe place.”
“No?” Dean said. “I woke up and he was gone, I thought you'd done it.” Emily looked at Sam, who shook his head.
“That's just great,” Emily sighed. “Can't even keep a kid under control.”
“You don't get to call him a kid,” Sam huffed. “He's like three years younger than you.”
“Yeah, exactly,” Emily said, reaching for her laptop. “He's a kid.” Dean shook his head. “Look, he's like- about to graduate, I graduated nine years ago. Sorry for not seeing him as an adult.”
“Yeah, but you graduated at fourteen,” Dean said.
“And you thought I was eighteen, didn't you?” Emily said. “Look, I'll look into his location, you guys go after the ingredients.”
“You sure? You're gonna miss all the action,” Sam smirked.
“I need to get back into shape if I don't want to get myself killed,” Emily said. “I'll- I don't know, I'll get some practice in while you guys are gone, but I really don't feel like hunting an alpha as of right now.”
“Okay, we got good news and bad news,” Sam said, walking into the cabin. Emily put the lid on the pot and turned. “So, we- Are you cooking?”he asked, frowning.
“I mean, you called and said not to buy anything with corn syrup in it,” she said. “I killed a deer.”
“You what?!” Dean asked. “You went hunting?!”
“I told you I was gonna get some practice in,” she said. Dean frowned.
“Are you boiling the bullet or something?” Sam asked, confused. “You're not really supposed to-” Emily interrupted him by pointing to a bow that hung on the wall. “I stand corrected,” he said. “Can't believe dad's bow hunting classes came useful.”
“Right?” Emily smirked. “So, you were saying? Good news and bad news?” Dean walked into the cabin and kicked his boots away.
“Good news, we got the blood and the bone,” he said. “Bad news, Crowley stood us up, so we’re missing an ingredient.”
“He can do that?” Emily asked, frowning. “You summoned him, right?”
“Yeah, which means he's blocked somewhere,” Dean said. “What about you, found the kid yet?” Emily sighed.
“Kinda,” she said. Dean walked towards the bedroom. “Uhm, before you go in there, you should know Meg and Cas have been in there for twenty minutes.”
“What?” Dean asked. “Cas is here?”
“Yeah,” Emily said. “Meg and him arrived here half an hour ago, I thought she was gonna drop him off, but they've been in there since then.”
“Do you think they're…” Sam asked, confused. Emily shrugged.
“Anybody's guess,” she said. “I guess Cas’ not strictly into dick like we thought.” Dean turned towards her.
“What?”
“What?” Emily repeated. “The guy's gay, I think it's pretty obvious.” Dean looked at her, confused. “Will you gaydar ever start working, dude?” Dean sighed, rolled up his sleeve and walked to the bedroom door.
“Get dressed, you two, we gotta talk!” he said, punching the door. A second later, Castiel appeared behind him.
“Hello, Dean,” he said. Dean turned, scared. “It's good to see you.”
“God, you couldn't have walked?!” he asked. The door opened and Meg came out. “You should go.”
“Good to see you too, Dean,” Meg said, complaining. “And you're welcome for babysitting your boyfriend.”
“We summoned Crowley, he could show up any-”
“Minute?” said Crowley, appearing in the middle of the room. “Sorry I'm late.” Meg tried to run towards the door, but it closed. “Stay, won't you? There's really nowhere to run.”
“Leave her be,” Castiel said. Crowley looked at him and sighed.
“Castiel,” the demon said. “Last time we spoke, you- well, you enslaved me. I'm confused, why aren't you dead?”
“I don't know,” the angel said, fixing his tie over his shirt.
“Well, do you want to be?” asked Crowley. Emily turned off the fire under the pot and stepped forward.
“Okay, that's enough,” she said. “I think we got something bigger to discuss, don't we?”
“It's enough when I say it's enough, Sheep, I came to help and you're harbouring an angel,” Crowley answered. “Not just any angel, the angel I want to crush between my teeth.”
“Oh, so you can crush angels now, uh?” Meg asked. Emily rolled her eyes.
“That's not helpful,” she complained. “You gonna give us the blood or what?”
“You're so boring, Sheep, they ever tell you that?” Crowley said. He put a hand inside his jacket and handed her a vial of blood. “Here, so you can shut your trap.”
“Am I supposed to believe this is the actual blood?” she asked.
“Sheep, you really think I’d double cross you like that?” Emily frowned and Crowley sighed. “Of course I would, what am I saying? Not to worry, my distant spawn, it’s my blood.”
“You know we’ll come after you if it doesn’t work, right?” Sam asked. Crowley snarked.
“I’m sure you will, Moose. But for now, exit Crowley stage left.” The demon disappeared and Emily sighed. She handed the vial to Dean. As she walked towards the bedroom, Castiel disappeared, too.
“Where the hell has he gone?” she asked. Dean shook his head. Emily grabbed a cigarette and lit it up on her way back to the front door.
“Are you ever going to quit with that?” Dean asked. Emily looked at the beer he was holding and held the door open with one hand.
“You ever going to quit drinking?” she asked. Dean shook his head and Emily walked out. Sam walked next to her as she sat down on the porch.
“Any news on Kevin?” he asked. Emily shook her head.
“Not really,” she said. “News came out about him being back in Michigan, but I tapped all the security cameras and he’s nowhere to be found,” she explained. “So he’s either not gotten out of his room for a week, or he’s not there anymore.” Sam sighed and sat down. “Either way, I don’t have a clue.” Emily heard the distant sound of Dean arguing with someone inside the cabin and turned. Sam did the same.
“Should we go in there and tell him off?” she asked. “Cas has got it rough without him yelling like that.”
“Cas can handle it, he’s gonna be fine,” Sam said. Emily laid back on the porch steps and took a deep breath.
“God, I just wish the yelling would stop for like- one day,” she whispered. Sam didn’t answer. “Maybe I was wrong, moving out of Chicago.”
“I mean, you did what you thought was right,” Sam said. “And if you’re gonna rebuild Bobby’s house, you can always go back there.”
“Is that seriously your plan?” Emily asked, looking at Impala. “Drive in there guns blazing, get to Dick and hope Crowley didn’t mess with the blood?” Dean nodded. “Well, that’s a stupid plan if I’ve ever heard one.”
“You got a better idea?” Dean asked. Emily sighed. “You don’t wanna come, fine by me, but if shit goes wrong we all die bloody.” Emily looked at Dean as his attempt at guilt tripping her into a suicidal mission went wrong. He should have known better by then, she didn’t care that much about her life.
“Come on, Dean,” Sam complained. “Now’s really not the time.” As Dean was about to answer, Castiel appeared next to Emily holding a cup of tea.
“Harvested the honey myself,” the angel said. Emily smiled.
“Thanks Cas,” she said. “At least someone’s trying not to make a total bummer out of this conversation.”
“Dean thought you weren’t going to agree to his plan,” the angel said. Dean rolled his eyes.
“I don’t,” Emily answered. “But I trust him enough to go along with it and die anyway.” He wanted to guilt trip her? Fine, right back at him. Sam shook his head and left the room while Dean opened himself another beer. “What time do we leave?”
“In an hour,” Dean said.
Emily rushed into the office, arm already injuried from the car crashing through the gates and was surprised to find Kevin inside. She frowned for a second, then walked towards him to untie him.
“Nice to see you, Kevin from advanced placement,” she said, cutting the rope around his wrists. “I’d love to chit chat but we gotta hustle.” Emily undid the gag around his face and then pushed him towards the door.
“No, no, wait,” Kevin said, stopping Emily from leaving.
“What?” she asked. “I’m getting you back to your mom, okay?”
“Yeah, okay, fine, but Dick’s got creamer in his lab. He’s gonna kill all the skinny people.” Emily frowned, confused, and tried to open her mouth to ask for an explanation, but Kevin preceded her. “We have to blow up the lab.”
“Okay, that I can work with,” she said. “Where to?”
“That way,” Kevin pointed down a hall and Emily followed him, taking off her backpack and taking off some explosives she’d been dying to try for years. “What the hell is that?” Kevin asked.
“C-four, I think,” Emily said. When Kevin tried to complain, Emily interrupted him. “They’ve been in our hunting bag for like five years, okay? You ever waited five years to try a new videogame?”
“Are they going to work?”
“Not what you should be worried about,” Emily said with a smirk.
“What the hell does that mean?!” Kevin turned a corner and opened a door to an empty lab. “Where is everyone?”
“Probably out to get us,” Emily said. She put one of the explosives in his hand. “Stick this to something important,” she said. Kevin frowned. “Hurry up!” Kevin rolled his eyes and went to the left side of the room, while Emily went right and stuck the c-four to something that looked like a chemical mixer. “Okay, get out,” she said, pushing Kevin out the room. She walked to other side of the hallway. “Here’s to hoping the building doesn’t collapse.”
“What, wait-” Despite Kevin trying to stop her, Emily pushed the button on the remote, causing the explosives to detonate. The soundwave made her fall backwards, and as soon as the dust dissipated enough for her to see, she saw flames coming out of the lab.
“Alright, time to go,” Emily said, standing back and helping Kevin, too. She looked at her phone, where Sam had texted her.
Was that you?
Are you okay?
Where the hell are you? We’re on the top floor.
“We’re getting out, right?” Kevin asked. Emily looked at him, then at her phone. She could either get him out and then leave him alone to get taken by anybody, or she could drag him with her all the way to the top floor and hope he didn’t die in the fire.
“Nope, we’re going up,” Emily said.
“But-”
“Sorry, my job is to kind of keep an eye on you,” she said. “And I’m going up, so you’re coming with me.” Emily rushed towards the stairs and started climbing towards the top floor. She reached the door and pushed it open, Kevin lagging behind half a ramp of stairs. She waited for him, then followed the trail of dead Leviathans. She walked into a room and found Sam. She pushed past him to see Dean and Castiel had already stabbed Dick Roman in the neck, who was struggling to keep standing.
“Where the hell were you?!” Sam asked, turning towards her. “We heard explosions, we thought-”
“That was us,” she said. “Kid said we had to blow up the lab.” Dean took a step back away from Dick.
“Isn’t that below us?” Sam asked. The leviathan emitted a wave.
“Why aren’t they getting out of there?” Emily asked. “Dean!” she called just a moment before Dick exploded into black goo. She cleaned her face and stepped towards where Dean used to be, but he wasn’t there. “Dean?” Emily turned towards Sam. A few steps behind him, Kevin was still catching his breath.
“Guys,” he said. “More chompers any second.” Emily looked back to were Dean and Castiel used to stand.
“Where the hell are they?” she looked at Sam, who shook his head. “What do you m-”
“Guys!” Kevin called again. Emily was about to answer, when Crowley appeared behind him.
“Not to worry, I have a small army of demons outside,” the demon said. “If you’d only had one king your whole life and it was gone, you’d be in a kerfuffle too.”
“Where’s Dean?” Emily asked. “And don’t play dumb, I know you know.”
“That bone…” Crowley sighed. “Has a bit of a kick. God weapons often do, they should put a warning sign on the box.”
“Crowley!” Emily complained. “Enough with the theatrics, where are they?!”
“Can’t help you, Sheep,” the demon said. He snapped his fingers and two demons appeared next to Kevin. “Also, don’t be mad, but the prophet's mine now.” As he said that, before Emily or Sam could react, Kevin, Crowley and the demons all disappeared.
You don’t know
from Next To Normal
“Firefighters still at work as the Sucracorp headquarters suffered an explosion yesterday afternoon,” said the man on the news. Emily put down her coffee and sat on the motel bed. “The incident seems to be the result of a terrorist attack, which, to date, has gone unclaimed. More news at our lunch news program.”
“Well, that's just great,” Emily sighed. “Dean's missing, Crowley took Kevin and apparently I'm a terrorist now.”
“They have no way of tracing it back to you,” Sam said. “You will be fine.”
“I just hope you're right.” Emily took a sip of coffee and turned off the TV. “So, where do we start looking for them?”
“Got no clue,” Sam said. “Look, maybe we should take a breather, see what's what.”
“You wanna take a break? While Dean is stuck somewhere with Dick Roman?” Emily asked. “I don't think so.”
“Dick’s dead, okay? That's what the weapon was for.”
“So, we just… leave Dean behind? What if he needs our help?” Emily asked. Sam took a deep breath. “What?”
“Emily, look, even Crowley said he can't help us-”
“What if he was lying?!” she said. “What-”
“It's over, kid, I think- I think Dean's gone.” Emily looked at Sam and her heart dropped. He really believed it. He really thought Dean was gone for good. And rationally, maybe it made sense, since Crowley himself had said he couldn’t help them. Emily looked at the pile of books that laid in a corner of the motel. She’d read through them, but Bobby’s storage had at least twenty more. There had to be something.
“I’m not giving up on him,” Emily said. Sam didn’t answer. She’d been going through it, telling herself he would have done it for her, but she knew far too well he wouldn’t have. Every time Dean had the chance to prove he cared about her, he failed all the way. But she still kept going: maybe it was some sort of petty revenge, just a way to make him feel guilty that he never did the same for her, or maybe, after ten years, Emily just cared about him. She didn’t care to figure out which one, because either of them made her look like a good person. It was fine, as long as it kept her going.
Weeks passed. Sam’s involvement in finding Dean grew smaller, and then it disappeared. Sam gave up one Tuesday morning, when he took the books he’d left out the evening before and moved them over to Emily’s pile. He never touched them again and instead started falling into a very different tunnel. One that Emily had chosen to forget about years before, because “now’s not the time” and “we got bigger fishes”. Sam wasn’t okay. He’d never been okay, but trying to hide how not okay he was from Dean had made it invisible. Emily had known all along Sam wasn’t okay, that he didn’t want to live anymore, but she’d ignored it, pretended not to hear it, shoved Sam’s thoughts in a corner of her brain and thought over them, louder, so they wouldn’t bother her so much and - most importantly - so they didn’t infect her as well. But Dean was gone, and Sam was done hiding what he was doing every day in the bathroom. Emily kept wiping away vomit and blood off the toilet and kept staying silent, thinking “I’ll say something tomorrow”, but tomorrow never came. It never felt like the right time. One night, she woke up to the noise of Sam walking to the bathroom, and kept pretending to sleep just to avoid the inevitable. She was gonna have to be the oldest sibling and step in. But she couldn’t do it in a way that made Sam just go back to hiding. She actually wanted to help. But then what? Tell him to stop? Steal drugs for him? He surely could have used some weed, but Emily didn’t want to risk Sam swapping an eating disorder for an addiction: Dean already had that part of the DSM covered. Twenty minutes got by, and that was when Sam usually came out. Then, a thump. Emily frowned, and kept listening, but nothing else came out of the bathroom. She stood up and opened the door. Sam was lying on the floor, head near the toilet, passed out.
“I swear to god, Sam,” she whispered, checking his pulse. He was fine. Just passed out. Emily tried shaking him awake, slapping him, but then did the only reasonable thing she could think of at three AM, filled with panic. She opened her bag of stolen hospital supplies and injected him with adrenaline. Sam jolted awake and looked at Emily, figuring out what had happened. “Jesus Christ, Samuel,” Emily said, standing up.
“What happened?” he asked, touching his head where he’d hit the floor.
“Do I really need to spell it out for you?” Emily asked. Sam looked at her and sighed. “You know you’re gonna get yourself killed like this, right?”
“That’s fine, we’re not taking cases anyway,” Sam muttered, holding to the sink to stand up.
“That’s not what I meant,” Emily said. Sam turned for a second, then touched his head and walked towards his bed. “We need to talk about this, Sam.”
“It’s fine,” Sam said. “Just- I’m tired, okay? That’s all.”
“Sure,” Emily answered, shaking her head. “And the fact you only had a salad all week while trying to vomit God knows what has nothing to do with this, right?”
“Of course not,” Sam said, sitting on the bed. “I always got by.”
“You always got by because you had to eat in front of Dean, but he’s gone,” Emily sighed, sitting in front of him on her bed. “This is not okay, and it only ends one way.”
“Good,” Sam said, not looking at her. He laid back on the bed. Emily didn’t say anything. She just stood up and walked out of the room. That was it, Sam wanted to die.
Like a refugee, a fugitive, forever on the run
If it gets me it will kill me, but I don't know what I've done
It had been creeping up in the back of her neck for weeks, but she’d kept ignoring it like doing so would make it less real. But when the words got out of his mouth, there was no pretending anymore. Emily drove to town, grabbed some weed from a local, handed the money in and went back to the motel. She sat in the Impala, windows open, and lit up the joint. Dean wasn’t gonna complain about the smell, right? He was gone and she didn’t know if he was ever going to come back. Over the next following days, Sam seemed to put in some effort to at least look alive, but he spent most of his days in bed, unable to do anything, by lack of will, or strength. When even the last book Emily could source from Bobby’s storages had been read, a month later, she laid on her bed and did the same as Sam. Stared at the wall for hours. Maybe Dean was never going to come back. Maybe Sam was right, he was dead. Or wherever he was, if he was alive, he wasn’t coming back. A whole day of staring went by. Then, came a whole day of getting drunk. Which of course didn’t work, but it was worth a try, right? Sam never got so bad he passed out ever again, but he could not do a single thing without being exhausted afterwards. Looking at him getting himself coffee seemed like watching someone go up mount Everest. For a split second, one day, Emily called him a coward in her head. The thought just went through her. He wanted to die but didn’t want to act on it, so he was letting himself die instead. He looked at her, eyes caved in, empty of any kind of light, and didn’t say anything, but Emily knew he’d heard it. He even scratched his neck. That meant another trip downtown and some more weed, which had been proving a good way to stop the telepathy for a while. All Emily craved was twenty minutes of silence in her head. A moment where she didn’t hear Sam’s spiral and where she couldn’t hear hers, either. But at some point she had to go back inside and face it. She had to do something, or Sam would die, too. And that moment came a week later. Emily left the motel and just went straight to the closest hospital. She had to face it, she might have had some medical skills, but she wasn’t a doctor, and she sure as hell wasn’t a shrink. So she asked, talked with nurses, counselors, volunteers, and they all came to the same verdict. If Sam wanted to die, there was only one street left to pave: inpatient care. Volunteer or not, that had to come from Sam. They gave her two choices: bring him in by his own will, or wait until things got bad again, call an ambulance and do it the rough way.
“We need to talk,” Emily said, putting down her jacket on the couch. Sam turned towards her from his bed.
“About what?” he asked. Emily swallowed. Then, she made the mistake of thinking about everything they’d told her that day, and Sam sighed. “Jesus, Emily,” he said. “It’s not like that, okay?”
“Not like what?” Emily asked. “Dude, I told you you were going to die and you said ‘good’, yes it is like that!”
“I don’t need that, okay?” he said, pulling himself up. “I’m fine.” Emily scoffed.
“Fine?” she yelled. “Fine?!” Sam rolled his eyes. “Dude, there’s not a single cell in your body that’s fine!”
“I-”
“You’re starving to death, okay? It is like that and you can’t keep pretending you don’t need help or that I can somehow fix you, because I can’t!”
“Emily-” Sam tried to say.
“Next time you pass out I’m not gonna give you adrenaline, okay? I’m just gonna call nine-one-one, like I should have done months ago! So you either get in the car and we go now, or you go in a few days, because we both know we’re getting there again and I’m tired of doing this!”
“Yeah, you’re tired, sure,” Sam sighed. “You know it’s not going to work, right? They can give me all the pills in the world, there is no fixing this.”
“It would work if you wanted it to!” Emily yelled. “You think I don’t get it? Because I-”
“It’s not going to work because the problem isn’t in my head!” Sam yelled. Emily stopped talking. “It’s the blood, okay? It’s the damned demon blood.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Emily asked, crossing her arms. Sam dragged a hand across his face.
“Remember Alastair?” he asked. Emily nodded and swallowed. “He said the demon blood fucks people up, right? What if that’s the reason we are the way we are?”
“What-”
“What if the- you know, the-” Sam pointed to the bathroom. “And the weed, the- the fact that you’re always angry and I’m always sad, what if it’s just the demon blood?” Emily leaned on the kitchenette. The thought had gone by her a few times in the past, but she’d always hidden it somewhere safe, covered with more urgent things, and never took it out again. He was right, Alastair had said it, Azazel had said it, and the entire thing made way too much sense. Emily got more blood than Sam did, which was why she always felt everything a little too hard, and Sam, with his lower dose, just felt one thing over everything else.
“What’s your point?” Emily asked, trying to find a disproving argument.
“My point is, this is the only way I could find to get rid of it for real,” said Sam.
“Dying?” Emily asked. “Wow, nice plan.” Sam shook his head. “And what am I supposed to do when Dean comes back and I just let you die?” she continued.
“This is not about you!” Sam yelled. For just- just for once, Emily, can you think of something else that is not you?”
“Something-” Emily opened her mouth a couple of times trying to figure out what to say. “Fuck you, okay? I’m working overtime to make sure you don’t die!”
“Yeah, but why?”
“Because I care about you, that’s why!” Emily yelled. “You’re my best friend, okay? I’m not letting you die over this!”
“If you really cared about me…” Sam hesitated. “If you really cared about me you’d let me go.”
“Yeah, right,” Emily sighed, tracing the side of her nose with her fingers. “Of course! What a brilliant idea!”
“You’re selfish, that’s all there is to it! You’re just like Dean!” Emily looked at Sam, eyebrows raising slowly.
“You did not just say that,” she said. “Seriously? I’m selfish? I’m like Dean? Because I want my brother to stay alive?” Sam shook his head. “You know what? The Sam I know would never say that.”
“Well, maybe the Sam you know has been dead for a long time,” Sam said.
“Okay, that’s it, I’m done talking about this,” Emily said. “I’ll give you a day, then I’m getting you to the hospital, with or without your cooperation.”
“Whatever,” Sam said. Emily grabbed her jacket back up from the table and stormed out of the room. That had to be the least convincing argument she had ever had. But the plan had already formed in her head. Knock him out - couldn’t have been hard at that point - forge his signature, sign him in. Demon blood or not, there was still a chance it would help him. On the topic of demon blood, there was also a chance her entire plan was just from that. And there was also a chance she never really was herself, and it was all the demon blood, or her life. Emily took that thought and shoved it back with the ones she’d had all the other times, then went to find a bar in town.
A few too many drinks and a one night stand later, Emily wobbled back into her motel room, just to find it empty of Sam’s stuff. Her stuff was exactly where she’d left it, but any sign of Sam ever being there were gone. She walked to the kitchen and found a post it on the coffee pot.
You were right, read the post-it. I’ll be at Saint Mary. Emily looked at the post-it and thought her drinks had been laced with something. Sam couldn’t have changed his mind overnight. She went to bed, slept her four hours, but when she woke up, Sam was still gone, and the post-it was still there. Half an hour of hacking later, she was staring at Sam’s name in the list of Saint Mary’s patients. Ward four, no visitation allowed until TBD. Not a great sign.
Fine
from Ordinary Days
Emily heard her phone ring, Kevin's name flashing on the screen. She frowned. He was one of the many loose ends she could not tie up after Dean had disappeared. All she knew was that Crowley took him somewhere, but the demon had always refused to talk, no matter how long she kept him in a demon’s trap. She’d tried calling and tracking Kevin’s phone, but it looked like it had disappeared from the face of the earth. Or, one time a few months prior, somewhere in Arkansas. She picked up the call.
“Hello?” she said. The loud sound of someone scrambling with their phone came through and Emily moved the phone away from her ear. “Kevin?” she repeated.
“E-Emily?” said Kevin’s voice. “I’m sorry to- to call but-" He sounded out of breath, like he’d been running.. “I- I tried to call Sam but he isn’t picking up, so- I didn’t really know who else to-” Emily heard a thump and then silence for a while. “Crap-” said Kevin.
“Kevin- What’s going on? Are you okay?” she asked, alarmed, while walking to her laptop. “Where are you?”
“I- I- Crowley had me in a warehouse, I just ran- I’m not sure where-” Emily opened her laptop and started trying to locate Kevin’s phone.
“Dude, you- you ran from Crowley? How?” Emily looked at the phone company’s website load endlessly while looking for Kevin’s phone. “Find- Find a church, okay? Demons can’t-”
“I know!” said Kevin. Emily frowned. “I- I- I’m in a church right now, just… I don’t know what to do, I- I-”
“How did you-” Emily stopped, seeing the website had finally loaded Kevin’s location. “Kevin, you- you’re in Arkansas, somewhere north of Holly Creek, I- I can be there in four hours,” she said. “You think you have that time before they catch up with you?” Kevin scrambled with his phone again. Emily stood up and walked to her room to grab her backpack. “Talk to me, Advanced Placement!”
“Uhm- I- I don’t know, I’m not sure- I ran for a while, but…” Kevin trailed off. His breath got heavier. “I- I- I think they’re out here, just… They can’t come in, can they?!” Emily grabbed her bag off the floor and closed it.
“No, you should be okay,” said Emily. “I’ll be there as soon as possible.”
“O-Okay, just… what- what- what do I do?” asked Kevin. Emily put him on speaker and grabbed Dean’s hunting bag from under the bed. “Emily, are you there?” asked Kevin’s voice, filling with panic.
“Yeah, I- I was just thinking what to bring,” she said, taking out Ruby’s knife. “How many of them are there?”
“I don’t know, two? Three? I didn’t get a good look, on account of being on the run!” Emily closed her eyes. Three demons was too much to take on her own. She was gonna have to find another way.
“Okay, Kevin, I’ll be there as soon as-”
“No, no, no- don't hang up, what do I do?!” he said. Emily closed the motel door behind her and walked towards the Impala.
“Kevin, wait for me, don't corner yourself, just… stay next to Jesus. And away from the windows.”
“This is a church! It's ninety percent windows!” said Kevin. Emily grabbed her keys and rushed to her car. “What do I do?”
“Okay, just… describe what you see, is there anything you can use as a weapon?” Kevin remained silent for a few seconds. “A- a statue or, I don't know- One of those big metal glasses?”
“I- I got an arm,” said Kevin. Emily frowned and started the car. “It's made of marble, I think.”
“It's gonna have to work, so now go to the altar and hide behind it!” said Emily. “I'm going to be there soon-”
“No, no, wait-”
“Kevin, if your phone dies I'll never find you, okay? Trust me, just… stay by the altar and if anybody enters the church, use the- the marble arm to stop them.”
“What if-” Emily hung up the call and merged into the road.
When she finally parked half a mile away from Kevin's location, she already saw some demons. She could see five, but there were more for sure. Three my ass. She tightened her grip on Ruby's knife and sneaked behind the first one. She dragged the corpse behind a wall and checked to see where her next target was. She managed to sneak past five demons, who died without making any sound, and had to fight seven more. It was brutal and she risked not making it a couple of times, but she could walk through a few cuts and bruises. Even if the cuts and bruises were bad and she was feeling light headed. The blood was soaking her clothes and had sprayed on her face. She could feel it dry on her skin as the stench overwhelmed her. She finally entered the church and walked to the altar. Kevin appeared from behind it, trying to hit her with a piece of statue.
“Dude!” she said, grabbing his wrist and almost falling to the ground. “It's me. You're safe.” Kevin took a step back and fell to the floor. The marble arm shattered next to him. “Are you okay?” Kevin nodded.
“Sorry I called you, I- I didn't know what to do, I- I-”
“It's fine.” Emily crouched in front of him, her knee cracking in a way it definitely shouldn’t have had. “Are you hurt?”
“Are we safe here?” asked Kevin. “I’ve been here for a few hours, maybe- maybe we should move-” Emily put her hands on Kevin's shoulder.
“Dude, are you okay or not? I need to know if I need to patch you up.” Kevin frowned.
“I- I tripped, while I was running, I-” he said, trying to stand back up. Emily pulled him back down.
“Show me,” she said. Kevin rolled up his jeans to reveal a swollen ankle. “It's not broken, but it will take a while for it to heal. Can you walk on it?”
“I ran on it for two hours,” said Kevin, starting to stand up. “I think I caaaa-” He trailed off, trying to hide a painful grimace. Emily put her hands on her waist. “Yeah, no- I can’t.”
“Alright-” she sighed and sat on the cold floor, hissing through the pain of her knee. Kevin frowned. “Take off your shoe,” she said. Emily took a roll of bandages out of her backpack. Kevin looked at her, terrified. “Dude, don't look at me like that. I'm not gonna cut off your foot, I just need to bandage it.”
“Does it hurt?”
“What?” asked Emily. “You- You never sprained an ankle before?” Kevin shook his head. “Right, advanced placement, no sports, I remember now.” Kevin rolled his eyes and just as he was about to complain, she rolled down his sock. Kevin hissed and tried to move his foot away, but Emily kept it in place. “Don't move,” she said and looked up. Kevin was holding his breath, eyes filling with tears. “Think happy thoughts for the next thirty seconds, okay?” With a sigh, Emily tightened the bandage around Kevin's ankle, causing him to repress a scream. She quickly glared at him and continued, knowing if she stopped, it would have gotten worse. When she kept going, he tried to stop her but she shoved his hands away. “Stop being a damn baby, it’s just a sprained ankle,” she said, tying the bandage on itself. Kevin finally took a breath.
“Sorry for being hurt!” he complained. “I’ll make sure to turn off my pain receptors next time.” Emily rolled her eyes.
“I dug out bullets out of people using my fingers and they complained less,” said Emily. “You’re just a baby.” She stood up and helped Kevin wrap an arm around her shoulders. “The car’s a mile away,” she said. “Think you can make it? Because I sure can't carry you.”
“Who’s being a baby now?” he whispered. Emily ignored him. “I- I'll walk.”
“By the way, there were twelve demons,” said Emily half an hour later, seeing the car appear in the distance. “Did you not pass AP math?” she asked. Kevin looked at her and frowned.
“I- If- How was I-”
“Dude,” said Emily with a sigh, shoving the key inside the car door. “It’s called a joke. Relax.”
“Right, okay,” Kevin sat next to Emily in the Impala. “Where's Sam and Dean?”
“Haven’t seen Sam in months,” said Emily. Kevin remained silent. “Dean's… gone.”
“Oh.” said Kevin. “Sorry, I-”
“Let's not, okay?” said Emily. She turned in her seat and grabbed her backpack from the backseat. She put it on Kevin's legs and slid her arms out of her overalls, taking off her blood soaked clothes.
“What are you doing?!” asked Kevin, looking away.
“Oh, grow up.” Emily rolled her eyes. “I'm sure you've seen a girl in a bra before. You'll be fine.” Emily started the car. “Open the backpack,” she said. “There should be a pack of square bandages.” Kevin rummaged in the backpack for a second before he took out the pack. “Okay, there should also be tape somewhere.”
“Why are we doing this while you're driving?” Kevin asked. “Wouldn't it be safer to-”
“Stop? Yeah, give the demons time to catch up with us,” she said. “You know how to do this?” she asked.
“Of course not!” Kevin complained. “And why are we using duct tape?!”
“What, you think I run an hospital or something?” she asked. “Jesus, uh-” she thought for a second, trying to focus on the road through her blurry vision. “Bottom of the backpack, disinfectant,” she explained. “Pour it on my side.” Emily moved her arm to show him the cut and he screamed. “Dude, I swear to God,” she said. “Just do it, I don't have all day!” Kevin opened the disinfectant and poured it on the wound. Emily tightened her hands around the steering wheel, trying to keep a straight course through the pain. “Okay, now take the gauze and put it on it,” she instructed. Kevin took the gauze from the corners and tried to carefully place it across her side. “Hurry up, we're about to merge into the freeway,” she said. Kevin hesitated, gauze still hanging off two fingers. “Can you use your whole hand?!” she yelled. “This isn't surgery, okay? I just need it covered!” Kevin looked at her, eyes tightening. He slapped the gauze on her side, making her scream.
“What did you do that for?!” she asked, bringing the car back into her lane. “I'm driving if you didn't notice!” Kevin didn't answer. “T-” Kevin added tape to the gauze, pushing on the wound again. Emily tried not to lose the car again and when Kevin was done, she reached into the backpack and grabbed a t-shirt from it. She looked around her and let go of the steering wheel to wear the t-shirt. When her head emerged from the t-shirt, Kevin's hand was holding the steering wheel while he looked at her like she was insane. Emily shook her head, grabbed the steering wheel and kept driving. She handed Kevin her phone. “Call your mom,” she said. “Tell her you won't be able to come home for a while.”
Emily opened the motel door, Kevin following closely. She threw her backpack in the corner and kicked away her shoes. Kevin stepped inside the room and looked around, confused.
“Get comfortable,” she said. “You can take the couch or we can share the double, you decide.”
“Wh-”
“TV and WiFi is paid for,” she continued, taking off the top of her overalls. “I’ll teach you how to find possible gigs.”
“D-”
“And we need to figure out what to do with your situation,” she said. Kevin shook his head and threw his backpack on the couch. “Hot water runs out fast so don't take too long in the shower.”
“I-”
“Jesus, we forgot to pick up food,” she complained. “I hope you like chips.” Kevin looked at her and put his hands on his waist, silent. “What?”
“What are we even doing here?!” he asked, confused. “I mean- aren't we supposed to- I don't know, hide? Protect ourselves?” Emily nodded and dug a ritual bag from her backpack and gave it to him. Kevin sniffed it and grimaced.
“Keep it on you, it makes you invisible to angels and demons,” she said. “Also,” Emily took off her anti-possession necklace and threw it to him. “Wear that, I’m fine, I got it tattooed.” Kevin wore the necklace and put it under his shirt.
“Emily, I…” Kevin trailed off and Emily looked at him. “Nothing,” he said. “Nevermind, it's… it's fine.”
“You sure?” asked Emily. Kevin nodded. “Alright, I'll order some pizza,” she said. “Do you drink beer?”
“I’m- I’m not allowed to,” he said with a frown. Emily looked at him and raised her eyebrows. “What? I’m not twenty one!”
“I’m not either,” she said with a frown. “Not for a few months anyway.” Kevin looked at her and shook his head. “Okay, change of plans then,” she said. “How would you like to try gin?”
Emily slammed the glass down on the table, making it shake over its uneven legs. Some gin fell out of the glass and splashed on the table.
“Oh god,” she groaned. “I think this might be the worst gin I've ever had,”
“I mean, it's getting the job done,” said Kevin. “I'm pretty sure I’m drunk.”
“Oh, me too,” Emily said, looking up at Kevin. “This was a terrible idea,” she said. “You’re a terrible influence on me,”
“Yeah, right,” Kevin smirked. Emily huffed and poured herself more gin. “I just hope this gets me to sleep,” Kevin said. Emily frowned. “What now?”
“You know the whole drink-to-forget thing is bullshit, right?” she said. Kevin frowned. “All it does is make you dumber.” Kevin looked at her like his entire world was shattered, alcohol being complicit in making what she'd said much more relevant than it should have been.
“Are you messing with me?” he asked.
“People do stuff they wouldn't normally do when they're drunk,” she said. Kevin's eyebrows raised, confused. “Like… have sex,” Emily continued. “With like- people they’re not supposed to,” Kevin continued looking at her. “Don’t worry- I’m not flirting with you,” she said. For a moment, her mind went to a different universe, one where they would have sex. It wouldn't have been that bad, she thought. He was… a person. Most likely had a penis, not that it was essential. Wouldn’t even be that bad looking since he got rid of the long hair. But he had that whole helpless look that really didn't make him look that appealing. Also, she was not about to defile a poor helpless virgin. She dragged a hand through her eyes. She must have been very drunk, she thought, if she was thinking of having sex with him. She took another sip of gin and shivered.
“You okay?” Kevin asked. Emily nodded.
“This gin sucks,” she said. “And I'm totally drunk.”
The following morning, Emily kicked the couch Kevin was sleeping on to wake him up, holding a cup of lukewarm coffee.
“Wake up, prophet, we gotta move,” she said. Kevin sat up and brushed his hair back with his hands. Emily looked at the table. It didn't have the chips and gin leftovers from the night before, it had a tablet that looked like the leviathan tablet. Kevin sighed. “Do I wanna know?” she asked.
“It's, uh-” he said, dragging his fingers through his eyes to wake himself up. Emily poured coffee in a cup and handed it to him. “The demon tablet,” he explained. “That's why Crowley took me, he wanted me to translate it.”
“What's on it?” Emily asked, sitting down on the bed.
“A- Uh- A bunch of things, on demons, mostly, and also, well there's one thing,” he said, looking away and scratching the back of his head. “It says how to close the gates to and from hell.” Emily almost dropped her cup of coffee to the ground.
“What?!” she asked. “How?!”
“Yeah, it's- uh it's three trials,” he said.
“To close the gates of hell,” Emily repeated, “Like- close? Forever?”
“Yeah,” Kevin stood up and put the cup in the sink. “The word is ‘sealed’, I think.”
“Wow,” Emily put her coffee down on the floor. “Just, wow-” Kevin ignored her and walked past, an eye still half closed. “What were you doing with it last night? We were black out drunk.”
“I couldn't sleep,” he shrugged. “Can we stop somewhere to buy clothes?” he asked. Emily turned. “I didn't exactly have time to pack.”
“Yeah, sure,” Emily answered. Close the gates of hell. Close. Close the fucking gates of hell. The ones she had opened when she was not more than a kid. Kevin said something she didn't quite understand. She could close the gates of hell. “How?” she asked, turning toward Kevin. He wasn't there. A moment later, she heard the toilet flush and Kevin walked out the bathroom.
“Did you say something?” he asked, drying his hands on his jeans.
“Yeah, I asked how,” she said. “How do I close the gates?”
“It’s- uh- three trials,” he explained. “Deadly. That’s all I got for now.”
“Alright,” Emily sighed. “I’m sorry, but you’re gonna have to figure out what they are.” Kevin took the tablet and put it in his bag. “Time to go, we’re going back to South Dakota.”
“South Dakota?” Kevin asked, frowning. “That’s like- the other side of the country.”
“Yeah, there’s something I gotta do up there.”
Kevin sat in the passenger seat and sighed. What the hell was that all about? Moving across the country on one random morning? Sure, they were on the run, but going from Arkansas to South Dakota sounded a little extreme. But then again, demons could teleport, so maybe it made sense. Emily didn’t say a word, put on the usual weird musical theater compilation cassette and drove off. She didn’t sing along, she didn’t speak, she just drove. It was going to be a long drive.
“Can you get my phone from my bag?” she asked. Please, thank you and any other word that might have been regarded as kind or just polite were clearly not in Emily’s vocabulary. Already nervous, Kevin opened Emily’s backpack and gave her her phone. She sighed nervously and dialed a number without even looking at the road. She brought the phone to her ear.
“Hi, hello,” she said, a fake smile planted on her face. “My name’s Emily Reed, I’m looking to visit one of your patients tomorrow morning?” A voice on the other side of the phone said something Kevin couldn’t hear. “Name’s Sam Winchester,” she continued. “Yeah, I know he can receive guests, I just need to know if he wants to.” She remained silent for a few seconds. “Just tell him his sister wants to come visit… Okay, I’ll be here.” Emily fixed the phone between her shoulder and cheek as she turned left. “Uh- yeah, that’s okay, I- Can I still come by, talk with a doctor or something? Okay- Yeah, that’s fine, I’ll be there… Thanks.” Emily closed the calls and threw the phone in the back of the car with a groan.
“What’s going on with Sam?” Kevin asked, retrieving the phone and putting it in the backpack. Emily looked at him and smirked.
“A little OCD, are we?” she asked. Kevin rolled his eyes. “Sam’s fine.”
“Okay, so why are we driving all the way to South Dakota to talk with doctors about him?” he asked. Emily’s knuckles tightened against the steering wheel: she didn’t like the question, got that. She never answered. A few minutes later, she pulled over on the side of the road.
“I’m gonna smoke a cigarette, stay in the car,” she said. It wasn’t a question, it was an order. Something Kevin was already getting tired of. Emily walked out of the car and a few seconds later the smell of the cigarette entered through the open windows. He looked at Emily through the rearview mirror and saw she was leaning forward on the hood of the car. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have said she was crying. She looked up and saw him, then walked a few steps away from the car. Kevin went back to looking in front of him, but heard the clear sound of a trashcan being kicked. Thirty seconds later, Emily entered the car again, cigarette butt thrown out the window after one last long puff that reduced it to basically nothing, turned on the engine and dried her face, making sure to turn the opposite way from Kevin like that was at all subtle. She cleared her voice and drove off, and Kevin pretended not to notice the tears had ruined whatever makeup she was wearing. Up until that moment he'd never even known she wore makeup, but her face streaked with black goop said otherwise. What did she need makeup for, anyway? He took a better look once they were on a better-lit road and realized she had a scar on her cheek. So maybe that was what she was covering? But why? Her arms looked like someone dragged a cheese grater on them, but she didn't cover that up. In fact, she didn't seem to care about them. And what kind of hunter wears makeup? Emily dragged her hand across her cheeks, makeup smearing on her hand and on her face, too. She looked at the hand.
“Damn it,” she whispered, using her t-shirt to clean her face. Kevin looked at the box of tapes that laid between his feet.
“Do you mind if I put something else on the radio?” he asked. “We've been listening to the same four songs for two hours.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever,” Emily answered, drying her face again. She was crying. What the hell was he supposed to do? What was up with Emily having feelings, anyway? Come on, she was the epitome of apathy, never smiling once if not to make fun of people, only giving orders and being a jerk. And she had feelings? Since when? He ignored her as she kept drying her face and took out the tape. He read through some of the tapes, silence filling the car. “Can you hurry the fuck up?!” Emily complained. Kevin grabbed a random tape and put it in. She started it. Emily sighed. “Sorry,” she whispered, dragging a hand through her face.
“Are you sure you don't wanna stop for the night?” he asked. Emily shook her head.
“We're not gonna make it in time if we stop and I'm gonna guess you can't drive, right?” Kevin shook his head. “Yeah, maybe it's about time you learn.”
“Make it in time for what?” he asked. Emily didn't answer. “Oh, come on, you're dragging me to the other side of country, the least you can do is tell me where the fuck we're going.” Emily looked at Kevin for a second, then sighed.
“Sam's in the hospital,” she said. “Psych ward.” Kevin frowned. Sam. In the hospital? He looked like he was the most stable of them all. He actually looked like he was the only normal one of the siblings. He'd seen Dean drink a six pack in a matter of a dinner, and Emily took the crown with that huge scar on her left wrist that looked like someone tried to chop her hand off, which given the state of the rest of her arm, she'd done it herself. Sam was the last person Kevin would expect to be in the mental hospital, and yet, he was there. “He doesn't want to see me, so…” Emily trailed off and slammed her hand on the steering wheel. “I'm just gonna go talk with the doctors to see if he's doing any better and when he can come home.”
It had been two months since Emily had rescued Kevin from that church. Sam wasn’t ready to come home, all possible leads on Dean had died, and she'd been hunting alone. She had to do something, right? And maybe at some point she’d find something on Dean. Maybe she could make a demon talk, or another hunter would know something. Kevin stayed at the motel, helped her with research sometimes, but he would try and translate the tablet most days. If Emily didn't distract him somehow, he would go on for hours and hours and wouldn't sleep.
It had happened a few times that they couldn't manage to find a room with twins, and they had to share, which was when she realized how little he slept. He would toss and turn most nights, only to pass out during car rides or get a few hours when he was exhausted.
For the most part of the first month, Emily wouldn't have dared say they were friends. Kevin didn't seem to like her all that much, and he surely wasn't the chatty type. Emily, on the other hand, didn’t mind being with someone who didn’t yell half the time and was drunk the other half. It was quiet. Which was good. She understood it was her fault if they lived in a constant state of silence and indifference, she had made no effort to be friendly. It just wasn’t a good idea. There wasn’t much on prophets in the lore, but after Chuck was done with his job as a prophet he’d vanished. His house was still perfectly intact, coffee still on the table next to his laptop, but no signs of him. So, if that was where Kevin was headed, there wasn’t much good to come out of being friends with him. At least by being a bitch she didn’t give him space to complain or question her decisions. Which sounded a lot like what Dean and John did, but Emily’d rather not think about it. That was exactly what she was trying to forget when Kevin came back from a food run with Starbucks one random Monday morning. Which, just by itself, was weird. When had they ever gotten Starbucks before? And also, since when did they buy breakfast for each other? He put it down on the table without a word and sat on his bed. Somehow that became a habit. Once in a while, one of them would get up early and get breakfast. Not that morning, though. That morning they’d just checked into the motel after a twelve hour drive out of a hunt. They entered a coffee shop and Emily brought both coffees to the table. He looked at her, confused, as she laid back in the chair and closed her eyes. The morning sun warmed up her face and she sighed.
“Why are we here?” Kevin asked, worried. Emily opened one eye.
“I’m gonna sell your organs to a dark web buyer,” she said, closing her eyes back down. When Kevin didn’t answer, she opened them up again. “We’re getting breakfast, what does it look like?”
“Is it… safe?”
“It’s only a couple of hours,” she said. “You have to get out of the motel once in a while, or you’ll go looney tunes real quick.” Kevin looked around and sat straighter on the chair. He took the coffee cup and brought it up to his nose. “Dude, it's just dark coffee,” Emily said. Kevin took a sip, put down the coffee and tapped his fingers on the table. Emily smiled under her breath, reminding of how Dean used to do that on his thigh when he was nervous.
“I’m used to staying in,” he said, looking away.
“What?!” Emily said, faking surprise. “You weren't a big party goer?” Kevin rolled his eyes. “You?! Kevin from advanced placement?”
“Okay-” Kevin huffed. “Not everyone has had the chance to be Homecoming Queen like you.” Emily frowned.
“What the hell are you talking about?!” she asked. “I was never Homecoming Queen or anything like that.” Kevin shrugged.
“Look at you,” he said. “You're…” he gestured in front of him, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly, until he rolled his eyes and closed it.
“Are you trying to say I’m pretty?” Emily asked with a smirk. Kevin raised his eyebrows and picked up the coffee. He took another sip and burned his mouth. Emily ignored his face turning purple. “Is it your weird way to try and give me a compliment?”
“What?!” Kevin asked, putting down his coffee. “No! I mean- yes?” he looked at her, confused. “Just- I’m saying you look- I’m saying you look like one of those girls, okay?”
“Those- Who-” Emily trailed off for a second. Kevin sighed and looked away, until she realized what he meant. “So you’re saying I’m a bully?!”
“No, what?! I never said that!” Kevin complained, “I’m saying you look like one,” Kevin said.
“I do not-” Emily’s mouth remained open for a moment. “Trust me, I’ve never been popular.” That was half a lie, everyone in high school loved her, but she needed to prove a point.
“Yeah right,” Kevin rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“I graduated at fourteen,” Emily said. “Didn’t exactly have time to-”
“You what?!” Kevin's head stopped shaking and he looked at Emily. “Are you serious?!”
“I went to high school at eight,” Emily explained. “Lost a year after my mom died, then graduated.” Kevin remained silent, visibly doing calculations in his head. “What, never met another wiz kid before?”
“No need to be an asshole about it,” Kevin sighed.
“I didn’t do anything!” Emily answered. “You're the one who called me a bully.”
“I did not-” Kevin rolled his eyes. “You know what? I'm going back to the motel.” He reached for the motel keys on the table and stood up.
“Come on, seriously?” Emily sighed. “Come on, dude!” Kevin turned around and looked at her for a moment before leaving. Emily rolled her eyes and pretended not to see the entire coffee shop staring at her. She stared at Kevin's abandoned coffee. Friendships were a stupid idea. Maybe John and Dean were right all along. Who would have thought she’d ever see the day she’d say Dean was right about something. And he wasn’t even there to gloat. Emily let her head fall to the back of the chair and fidgeted with the coffee cup. She closed her eyes. It didn't used to be so hard to make friends when she was thirteen. But then the whole hunting thing happened and she never had to make a friend again. People just sort of fell into her lives and they would be there until they weren't. Jo was the closest thing to a friend she'd had, but they barely heard from each other, if at all, unless their paths crossed somehow.
Emily took her time and had breakfast. If Kevin really had gone straight back to the motel, he probably had at least an hour to walk. Accounting an hour to calm down, she could take her sweet time. She had Kevin's coffee packed and left, thirty minutes later, to explore the rest of the city. Parks, malls, whatever passed next to her as she drove, she stopped and took a walk. Emily returned to the motel well after lunch time, where Kevin was studying surrounded by take out boxes and energy drink cans.
The following morning Emily woke up and Kevin handed her a piece of paper. She dragged her hand over her eyes, then looked at Kevin.
“What language is this?” she asked. Kevin took the piece of paper back, looked at it like it could actually be in another language, and then gave it back to her.
“English,” he said. Emily frowned and brought it closer to her eyes. Maybe she was too tired, maybe she needed more sleep, because she could not make out a single word on it.
“What the hell does it say?” she asked, handing it back once again. Kevin rolled his eyes.
“It’s the first trial, like you asked,” he explained. Emily made her way to the coffee pot and filled it up. “Bathe yourself in the blood of a hellhound.”
“There’s no way that’s what you wrote there,” Emily said. Kevin rolled his eyes. “Okay, fine, sorry, let me drink some coffee and we’re gonna go get some books.”
Emily closed her backpack and fixed her gun behind her overalls. They'd done enough research on hellhounds to last a lifetime, and she'd picked up something on the news that looked like it could be a deal expiring soon. Kevin stood a few feet from her, also packing.
“Are you sure you want to come with me?” Emily asked. “It’s going to be dangerous and you don’t even know how to work a gun.”
“Can't you teach me?” Kevin answered. “You know, like you said you would like- a hundred times?”
“And you really think hellhound hunting is a good place to test your shooting for the first time?” she said. “It’s nothing personal, okay? I just don’t want you to get hurt.”
“Oh, come on, just let me come with you!” Kevin complained. “I've been reading about hellhounds for weeks, I- I-”
“Kevin, reading about hellhounds is not exactly the same as being out there with one of them. I don’t even know what the hell I’m going against, this is definitely not the right time to christen you into the hunting life.”
“I don’t care, okay?” Emily sighed and shook her head. “I don't think you should be going alone.”
“You- You’re gonna back me up?” said Emily with a smirk. “Look, I can teach you how to shoot but between that- and backing me up-”
“Come on, you know what I mean!” Kevin complained, punching a t-shirt into his backpack.
“Look, I get it you want to help, but,” Emily sighed and looked at him. “What would be even more helpful is stay here and- translate the second trial!”
“I can't! It's- I can't even read it, I'm- I'm too- too-” Emily interrupted him and put her hands on her waist.
“Okay, how's risking your life going to fix that?” she asked. Kevin shook his head.
“I just want to come, okay?” he said. “I can't stand being in this place anymore! I- I'm gonna start talking with the damn table if I stay in here one more minute without solving crap!”
“Okay? Go for a walk then,” Emily said. “You’re gonna get yourself killed if you come on this gig with me.”
“Yeah, and what if you die?” he asked. “What am I supposed to do then?” Emily looked at him and sighed.
“You know what, fine,” she said. “But you don’t take the initiative and do what I say, got that?” Kevin shook his head. “I mean it.”
“Yeah, whatever, sure.”
“Alright, now that you know how to shoot, let’s talk case,” Emily said, sitting into the driver’s seat. Kevin threw his backpack in the bag and looked at the gun he was holding. “The place I found, Cassity Farms, someone definitely did a deal ten years ago.” Kevin put the gun on the floor between his feet.
“Okay, so?” he asked.
“So,” Emily sighed. She was in for a long day. “Deals usually expire after ten years, someone sold their soul for a fortune and now they’re gonna have a hellhound on their ass.” Kevin looked behind them on the road. “Usually people who are hunted down by hellhounds are gonna be freaking out, on account of seeing and hearing a huge black dog that nobody else sees,” she explained. “The idea is, you get this person to safety, I kill Fido, we go back home.”
“Why do I get the sense you’re making it sound easier than it is?” Kevin asked, crossing his arms. Emily turned on the engine. “Also, why do you get to do the killing?”
“I don’t know, maybe because I’m the one who actually knows how to do this job?” she asked. “Or just because I’m older, you pick.” Kevin rolled his eyes and Emily drove off of Bobby’s burned down house. “Last thing we need to figure out is the whole invisibility thing.”
“I got something,” Kevin said, grabbing his backpack and taking out his notes. “The tablet says ‘the dire creatures may be seen only by the damned or through an object scorched with holy fire’.”
“A lot of words to say ‘holy glasses’,” Emily said. “I should have Jesus Juice in the trunk, we’ll figure that out.”
“Jesus… Juice?” Kevin asked with a hint of disgust.
Emily pulled into the farm and stopped the engine. She walked out, closed the door behind her and went towards a woman that was working under a tractor.
“Hey, sorry to bother you,” Emily called. She heard the car door slam close and Kevin’s steps on the gravel. “I’m looking for the person who runs this joint.” The woman slid out from under the tractor.
“You guys are here about the job?” she asked.
“How’d you guess?” Emily smiled, happy to take a chance when she saw one. A few feet behind her, Kevin tripped and fell to the ground. She turned to see him dust gravel off his face. The woman crossed her arms. “Don’t worry about him, he learns quick and he definitely knows how to walk.”
“Fine,” the woman said. “Breakfast is at five, dinner is at eight, work in the middle. Questions?” Kevin tried to open his mouth, but Emily stepped on his foot to stop him.
“Nope, all good,” she smiled. “Can’t wait for tomorrow.”
“Cool, job’s yours, but I gotta warn you, it’s crap.”
“She really meant when she said it was a crap job,” Kevin complained, struggling to move the manure off the ground.
“Dude, you’re the worst shit-mover I have ever seen,” Emily sighed. “You’re a man. You’re supposed to have like… crazy arm strength.”
“I’m sure Ellie has lots of arm strength,” he whispered. Emily looked at him and raised her eyebrows for a second before going back to shoveling. “Is this what you do all day when I’m back at the motel?” he asked. “Try to get into everybody’s pants?”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Emily stopped shoveling for a second to look at him.
“Yeah, like I didn’t notice you smiling at Ellie.”
“Okay?” Emily frowned. “I smiled at her, I was being nice,” she said. “You should try it sometimes.”
“Me?” Kevin scoffed. “Oh, I’m nice.”
“Not with me,” Emily whispered, going back to shoveling. Kevin rolled his eyes.
“That’s because I’m not nice with people who are assholes to me,” he answered. Emily shook her head.
“Right,” Emily sighed. “We need to figure out who took the deal. Keep your eyes open tonight at dinner, okay?”
“How about her?” Kevin said, nodding behind him. “Seems pretty strung up.” Emily looked up and saw Ellie was fighting with someone. “You know who she is?”
“Yeah, I saw her in the newspaper that brought us here,” she said. “Name’s Alice Cassity. She owns the joint.”
“Should we talk to her?” Kevin asked. Emily shook her head.
“We need to keep our cover,” she explained. “How good are you with stalking girls?”
“What kinda question is that?” Kevin complained. “Why would I-”
“Okay, can you stop doing that?” Emily asked, digging into the manure a little too aggressively. “I just asked you a question, dude, a yes or no question at that, think you can answer without putting up a scene or what?!” Kevin remained silent.
“Alright, so this was a bust,” Emily said, looking at Carl Cassity’s body being brought away by paramedics. Kevin had just walked back from their room. “Hellhounds got what they wanted, they’re gone.”
“I’m not sure,” Kevin said. Emily turned. “I talked with Alice, and I think Carl might have sold his soul for her, not for the money.”
“What makes you think that?” Emily asked.
“Today was their tenth anniversary,” he explained. Emily raised her eyebrows. “And the timing doesn’t add up, deal should expire tomorrow.”
“You think someone else in the family made a deal?” she asked. “Makes sense.”
“Ellie told me the entire family is flying in tomorrow morning, we’re gonna be helping with the dinner.”
“Alright, that’s gonna be a good opportunity to scope everyone out. We’re the help, they’re not gonna have problems talking about their dirty laundry in front of us.”
“There’s a problem,” Kevin said. “Ellie said one of us has to dress nice and serve people, the other one’s gonna be manning the grill.” Emily looked at him.
“It’s fine, I can be the one inside,” she said. Kevin looked at her, lips tightened in a straight line. “What?”
“I’ve never worked a grill in my life,” he said.
“What kinda man are you?” she asked, confused. “That’s fine, but you’re gonna need to listen to everything they say.”
“Hey, I was in advanced placement, my memory’s good.”
“You good with all the names?” Emily asked, fixing Kevin’s shirt over his jacket.
“Yeah, Cindy The Drunk, Noah the old man, Margot the baby.”
“Don’t… use those names when you’re in there,” Emily said. Kevin looked at her and raised his eyebrows. “Let’s go over your basic drinks.”
“Pour wine without spilling, whiskey with no ice because it waters it down unless they ask it on the rocks, old fashioned are bourbon, orange, sugar and that red stuff.”
“How about a Martini?” she asked.
“Gin, vermouth and orange,” Kevin answered. Emily nodded.
“You do have good memory,” she said. “You got your gun on you?” Kevin nodded.
“I’m not gonna need it, right?”
“It’s not gonna do anything to the hellhound, so no,” Emily sighed. “Just- be careful.”
“Sure,” Kevin sighed. He walked away and entered the house. Emily looked back at the grill and put a hand next to it to feel if it was warming up. She'd seen Dean do it. Once. That had to be enough, right?
Emily heard someone walk behind her and saw Kevin approach. She touched the meat that was on the plate ext to the grill. It was cold.
“Dude, finally! I’ve been waiting for like half an hour! The steak is gonna get-”
“It’s Crowley,” said Kevin. Emily froze. “They said a traveling salesman came through when they were at their old house. His name was Crowley.”
“Shit,” Emily sighed. “Any idea who signed?”
“No, they- they’re too busy wishing cancer on each other and having sex with everybody’s husbands,” Kevin answered.
“Okay, so, you stay here, make sure nobody gets away. I’ll go grab the glasses from the car.”
When Emily walked back, Kevin was gone. He wasn’t by the grill, he wasn’t inside. Noah and Margie were gone, too. She tried calling him but he refused the call. Emily turned off the grill and that was when Kevin appeared from behind the building, running.
“Where the hell were you, dude?!” asked Emily. “I told you to keep an eye on them, now they’re-” Kevin looked at her and didn't answer, out of breath. He looked down at the gun she'd given him, his hands shaking. He slowly moved it towards her and she took it. Kevin's chest bent forward and he vomited, missing Emily's shoes by an inch. She moved away. “What the hell, dude?!”
“Margie's dead,” he said, cleaning his face with his arm. “She went after the hellhoun-” as he said that, he vomited again.
“Okay, dude, I swear to God-” she sighed and took a step back. “You okay?” Kevin cleaned his face and nodded, sitting on the ground. “Good, because we need to get inside and have a talk with these people,” she said, looking at Noah as he reentered the house. “New plan,” she continued. “You stay here, make sure nobody gets out of the house, I’m gonna go look for the bastard.”
“What?” Kevin looked up, concerned. “No, how- how am I going to convince them to stay inside?”
“I don’t know, cuff ‘em, point your gun at them, do whatever you need to do, but don’t- don’t let them out, okay?” Kevin swallowed. “I sneaked some goofer dust in the kitchen, put it on the windows and on the doors, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
“O-okay,” Kevin said, standing back up. Emily gave him back his gun. He swallowed again. Emily knew there was no part of that plan that held up, but she had to try. She grabbed Ruby’s knife off her overalls and walked into the opposite direction of the house, towards the barn. She saw a light and walked closer. It was Ellie’s room. She knocked.
“Ellie?” she called. The door opened. “Look, it’s gonna sound crazy, but it’s dangerous out here.”
“I know,” Ellie said, putting down a glass of liquor. “That thing… it’s coming for me.”
“What?” Emily frowned. “What makes you say that?”
“I’ve been working here since I was a kid, well before the Cassity were rich,” Ellie explained. “My mom was sick, and Crowley helped me fix it.”
“Son of a bitch,” Emily sighed. “He made you sign? Really?”
“He didn’t make me do anything,” Ellie said. “I did it for my mom.”
“We can help, okay? I can kill that thing, all you have to do is-” Emily heard a scream that sounded way too much like Kevin. She turned. She looked at Ellie. “Get in the house!” she yelled and prayed Kevin had at least put goofer dust before running off to God knew where. She followed the screams and arrived in another barn, when Kevin was on the floor, bleeding, the hellhound hovering over him. Emily stepped in and kicked the dog just enough so it would get off of Kevin and attack her instead. The moment she saw the dog attack, she stabbed it with the knife she’d been holding, but it still managed to get a hit on her. The glasses got covered in thick, black blood as she struggled to push the hellhound away from her. It landed on the floor with a thud. She tried cleaning the glasses with her t-shirt, but it was so soaked in blood it didn’t do anything. She threw the glasses away and looked at where the hellhound had hit her. She was bleeding from her side. Light headed, she looked for Kevin on the floor.
“Are you okay?” she asked. Kevin looked down at his blood-covered hand. He moved it to reveal a cut where the hellhound had attacked.
“I- I- don’t know.” Emily stumbled in front of him and held herself standing with one hand on the wall behind him. She looked down, trying not to see double.
“You’ll be fine,” she said. “I think.”
“You think?!”
“Jesus-” Emily almost fell to the floor. She gestured at her blood-soaked shirt. “You think this counts as bathing in the damn blood?” Kevin nodded.
“I- I guess?” he answered, still covering his wound with his hand. He used the free one to get the spell from his pocket. It was covered in blood, too, but still readable. Emily took it and read it out loud. For a moment, everything stood still. She was just about to try and stand back up when a sharp pain hit her arm. She fell to the ground and right on Kevin’s legs. Trying to ease the pain, Emily dug her nails in Kevin’s arm and placed her head on the wall next to his.
“Are you o-”
“No!” she snapped. “Fuck- what does it look like?!” Emily released a groan of pain and then everything stopped. She caught her breath and rolled away from Kevin. “Sorry-” she said. “Didn’t mean to- you know- try and get to third base but- Jesus Christ, that hurt like a motherfucker.”
Emily parked next to the motel and turned off the engine. She took a deep breath. Kevin was pulling on his fingers, silent.
“Okay,” she sighed. “We’re here.”
“Yeah, I- I can see that,” he said but didn’t move.
“You see why I didn’t want you to come?” she asked. “This job’s rough, and you could have died.”
“I’m fine. It’s barely a scratch,” Kevin answered, opening the door. Emily rolled her eyes and followed him outside of the car.
“Dude, it is not a scratch!” she complained. “You're lucky I found you when I did, okay? If we're gonna do this together you gotta be more careful.”
“Yeah, right-” Kevin rolled his eyes and walked towards the motel. Emily followed him, looking for the keys in her pocket.
“Is this a male pride thing?” she asked, walking past him and opening the door. “Are you mad I am not a damsel in distress and you cannot be prince charming coming in and saving me?” Kevin shook his head and didn’t answer. Emily sighed. She waited for him to enter the room and then locked the door. “You should take a shower. You smell like shit.”
From that moment on, something changed. The trials were deadly, Emily knew, but she didn't think it was going to happen that fast. The day after killing the hellhound, she felt nauseous. Same the day after that. After a few days, she realised that was going to be her life, whatever was left of it. That was how it was starting, and it was going to get worse and worse. And then, by end, she would be dead, or maybe she'd wish she would be. Kevin didn't seem to notice, not that Emily gave him any clue. Life continued, gig after gig, waiting for Kevin to translate the second trial, but hunting was getting harder. Taking down ghosts, demons or whatever it was Emily found that week was not easy when she was constantly feeling like vomiting. That morning, in particular, she felt like absolute shit. Her entire body was aching, she'd already vomited twice and it didn't seem to slow down at all. But she'd gotten word a nest of vampires was about to move out, and that was her only chance at killing them all, so she went anyway. She almost made it through. Nine vampires, all dead within the hour, but that last one, her body just decided it was enough and took away any strength. The vampire towered over her, fangs already out, and Emily couldn't push it off of herself. Not with her arms, not with her legs, not even with her powers. She was running on a battery that had ran out at the worst possible moment. Just as she was about to accept that it was over, a syringe was dug into the vampire's neck, and it collapsed. Emily dragged herself back just enough to set herself free from the body, and looked up.
“Kevin?!” she asked. “What the hell are you doing here?” He looked at her and threw the syringe on the floor.
“You- uh- you sounded weird when you left so I… I followed you.” he said, dragging his hands through his hair to hide the fact that they were shaking.
“You did what?!” she yelled. “You could have gotten yourself killed!” Kevin looked at her and shook his head.
“Yeah, you're welcome, by the way,” he sighed, walking away. Emily stood back up and got light headed, almost falling to the side. “What the hell's wrong with you?” he asked.
“I'm fine, just- a little nauseous.”
“You're not… pregnant, are you?” Kevin asked. Emily put her hands on her waist.
“Yeah, I was given the not so immaculate conception,” she said, walking towards her car. “It's obviously the trials, dude!” Kevin caught up with her.
“Okay, then why the fuck did you come out here? You can barely stand!”
“I can barely stand because I'm exhausted,” she complained. She took out the car keys and opened the Impala. “It's just some nausea, I can survive that.”
“Almost didn't,” Kevin whispered, getting into the car.
“I had it under control,” Emily said. “You didn't need to do that, okay? Your job is not to look after me. Your job is to find a way I can close the gates!”
“So, my job is to get you the trials that will kill you?” he asked. Emily nodded. “My job’s to kill you?”
“Yeah,” Emily sighed. She merged into the road.
“Yeah well, what if I don't like that job?” Kevin complained. “What if I don't want to kill you?”
“Suck it up, Advanced Placement, it’s a little late to think about that.”
“I got us dinner,” said Kevin, dropping a brown bag on the table. Emily opened one eye and nodded. “Just- You need to rest, and I need to focus on the tablet, so…”
“Okay, you know what? I'm tired, I need to sleep and you can't do tablet stuff with the lights off, just- can we not do that for the night?” she asked. Kevin looked at her and sighed. She closed both her eyes again.
“Sure,” he said. “So… A little stay in and chill action?”
“You know, when you say that, it makes it sound like you want to have sex.” Kevin didn't answer, and Emily opened her eyes, sitting up. “Wow,” Emily scoffed. “Not even gonna correct me on that?” she asked. “Kevin from advanced placement, are you… flirting with me?”
“If anything, you’re flirting with me,” Kevin answered, taking out a take out box from the paper bag.
“I’m not flirting with you!” Emily complained, standing out of the bed. “You’re the one who mentioned sex!”
“Wrong,” Kevin turned towards her, “I said ‘stay in and chill’, you’re the one who said ‘sex’.” Emily looked at him. Yeah, maybe she was flirting. Because she had an itch to scratch and Kevin was the closest person around. Was it a good idea? Definitely not. But the fact he wasn't complaining about the flirting was a double edged sword. Because Emily knew Kevin well enough he wasn't the type of person to do no-strings-attached. So it was a horrible idea. “Tell you what, how about we-” Was all she could say before the motel door swung open and two demons entered the room. The men pinned her to the wall as a third demon marched into the room and towards Kevin. Emily used her powers to get rid of one of the demons, and punched the other one cold. When she looked for Kevin, she saw his hand trying to hold onto the door as he was being dragged away. She grabbed her knife from under her pillow and sprinted behind him. She caught up and tried to hold onto Kevin, stopping the demon from taking him any further. She clutched the knife tight in her hand and moved Kevin's head out of the way to dig it into the demon's neck. Blood sprayed everywhere: on their faces, on the wall, on their clothes. As the demon dropped dead on the floor, Kevin set himself free.
“Are you okay?” asked Emily, cleaning her face from the blood. Kevin nodded. “Alright, we need to leave and we need to leave fast,” she said. “Are you sure you're good?”
Kevin didn't say a word for the rest of the night, not as they were packing, not as Emily drove them to the next town over. Even after the shower, when the blood was all washed off, he was still awfully quiet. Emily sat in bed with her hair still damp and falling on her shoulder, but Kevin sat at the table and took his notes out of his backpack.
“Dude, it's three in the morning,” she said. “I thought we said we weren't doing that tonight.”
“I can't sleep,” he said. “Sorry, I- I’ll use the lamp to read, it's fine, you go to bed.”
“Seriously?” she asked. “It's been a long day, you should rest.”
“I’m fine, really,” he said. “I'm gonna sleep all I want once this is over.”
“Kevin?” she called, opening the door. All she wanted was to go grab lunch. Thirty minutes. “I saw the 911 text, are you okay?” Kevin wasn't in the room. “Kevin?” Emily looked around, putting one hand on her gun and already thinking the worst. The bathroom light was on. “Are you okay?” As she walked towards the bathroom, she started hearing the faint sound of someone breathing heavily. She opened the door and here he was. Kneeled in front of the toilet, pale as a ghost. “Are you okay?” Kevin turned towards her and seemed to retch, his breath broken. He tried opening his mouth to talk, but only the sound of choking came out. Emily crouched next to him, worried. He wasn't choking on anything, he was just… hyperventilating. Or so it seemed. “Please tell me it's not asthma,” she said. Kevin shook his head. “So you-” she looked as Kevin swallowed and tried to sit straighter, his hands shaking. “Are you having a panic attack?” He looked at her but didn't answer. “Jesus Christ, wait,” she rushed out of the bathroom to get her first aid kit and grabbed the canned ice she had. “Give me your arms,” she said, sitting in front of him. She sprayed his wrists with canned ice. “Now, try to take long breaths, okay? I know it sucks, but you're going to be fine in a minute,” He held onto her wrist and dug his nails in her skin while he forced himself to breathe. A few minutes later he leaned back on the wall behind him. “I’ll make some tea,” she said, standing back up. “You stand up when you're done.” She walked to the coffee pot and emptied it in the sink. She scraped the bottom of the coffee off the filter and then filled it with water instead. Little did she know, that was not bound to be a one time thing. Kevin had a panic attack every time she left the motel or every time they had to move to a new place. When Emily finally managed to get some answers out of him, he said he didn’t feel safe. So, she got to work to find him a safer place. She found a church, in South Dakota, a few miles out of town from where she and Sam used to live. She put down a couple of inflatable mattresses and bought a mini fridge. It wasn't good, by any means, but they had a table to eat and a bathroom, which was just about as much as Emily needed to survive. Kevin, not that much, he was still getting used to the new way of life, but at least he felt safe. Er. He felt safer. The weeks passed and they never brought up the flirting that was happening that night. It was better that way, thought Emily. Explaining to Kevin that it was just about the sex - it was always just about the sex - would have been hard. She was happy she could get out of that hassle free.
“I'm heading out,” she said. Kevin nodded, not taking his eyes off the tablet. “Want anything? Food? Coffee? A movie?”
“I'm fine,” he said. Emily frowned. He had been especially distant. Of course, things had tensed up after the demon attack, but after they moved into the church, they had gotten even worse. He would not get out of there, ever, he just refused or found an excuse, and that wasn’t any good for him. He just stared at the demon tablet all day, hardly said a word or ate.
“You know, once in a while you should try to let out some stress,” she said. “It's making you a bitch.”
“Look who's talking,” he whispered, turning the page on his notes.
“What exactly is your problem?” she asked. “Have I done something?”
“I don't know, have you?”
“Jesus Christ, Kevin, what is this all about?” she asked. Kevin rolled his eyes. “You realize I’m putting my job on hold to hang out here with you, right?” she asked. Kevin scoffed. “Just because I flirted with you for a second doesn’t mean you have to put on this whole thing!” she said.
“That's not the point!” Kevin closed the notebook and pushed it across the table, papers scattering on the floor. He rolled his eyes and stood up.
“Then what?” she asked. Kevin gathered some paper off the floor and slammed them on the table.
“You know what? It’s nothing,” he said. “I have to get back to it.”
“Right, of course,” Emily rolled her eyes. “Whatever, just- do you damn thing so we can get this over with.”
Kevin laid back in his inflatable mattress and threw his laptop to the side. Emily glared at him for a moment, but didn't say anything. The thing had been deflating for days, but he was so determined not to talk to her and he had not asked where the compressor was, and Emily wasn’t gonna do it for him. Not while he wasn’t even talking to her.
“This shit’s all deflated,” he said. “It's uncomfortable as fuck.” Those were the first words he’s said to her in a week, probably in hope of some mercy and a compressor. Emily ignored him. The following morning, she woke up to coffee.
“Did you drive into town to get us coffee?” Emily asked, confused. Kevin didn’t answer. She dragged her hand across her eyes and saw he had headphones on. She drank the coffee and opened her laptop. Maybe staying in there all the time was the real problem. Being stuck in the same church that smelled like mold would have been a nightmare with anybody, but someone you barely tolerate? That was an actual nightmare. She looked at the local news and found what looked like a vengeful spirit a few hours away. She stood up and started packing. It didn’t take long for Kevin to notice.
“What are you doing?” he asked, moving his headphones away. Emily turned.
“Found a case in Nebraska,” she answered. Kevin frowned. “Thought I’d give you some space, you know, the desert and all that.”
“You’re leaving?” he said. “What th-”
“Dude, you haven’t talked to me in a week, yes I am leaving, you clearly need some space.” Emily closed her bag and put it over her shoulder. “I’ll be back in a few days.” She started walking towards the door, but Kevin followed her.
“What’s this?” he asked. “It was just a stupid fight!”
“A stupid fight?” Emily scoffed. “No, it wasn’t a fight, you got offended over nothing and gave me the silent treatment,” she said. “You have your own job, I have mine, and being in here together all the time is not working out well.” Kevin shook his head. “There’s food in the fridge, running water, and you finally get your peace so you can work without me being in the way all the damn time.” Kevin’s face went through like fifteen different emotions and then landed on nothing.
“Fine,” he said. “Whatever.” Emily looked at him and went back to sitting in front of the tablet and then walked out.
Emily wrapped up the case in a couple of days and then stayed at a motel for a few more days. Kevin had not called, texted or contacted in any way, and she was fine with that. He always liked to play the big grown up who didn’t need nobody, this was his chance of actually doing it. She stopped in the doorway, tripping on her own thoughts. She’d done the same thing. She’d literally snuck out to bars in order to prove to Dean that she knew how to look after herself. Almost got herself killed a thousand times over it. Emily shook her thoughts off and closed the motel door. She entered the shower, washed off the sweat and the dirt and walked out. She turned on the TV, lit a joint and picked up the local pizza place flyer that was lying in a corner of the room. That was when someone knocked on her door. Thinking it was someone in a nearby room ready to complain about the noise, she opened it without a second thought, and saw Kevin. Emily dragged him inside and locked the door behind her.
“What are you doing here?!” she asked.
“I drove,” said Kevin with a cadence Emily had never heard before. “And I stole a car, just l'ke you taugh' me.”
“Are you drunk?!” asked Emily. Kevin lost his balance to the right and took a couple of steps.
“Possibly,” he said, raising a finger. “I had a couple of drinks-”
“Piling on the list of felonies, how fast were you going?”
“Not too fast, I think I was doing eighty,” he said. “The ones on the dashboard are kilometres, right?”
“What! No! They're miles- you were going eighty?! Why would they be kilometres?!” Emily grabbed the salt from the counter and started pouring in front of the door.
“It’s a German car, I thought-”
“God, you're an idiot!” she said. “You-”
“I didn't like being alone!” yelled Kevin. “I- I wanted to see you and tell you I'm sorry!”
“What?”
“I'm s-o-r-r-y-” he spelled. “Please- come back to the church! I swear I'll- I- I don't know, I- I'll be nicer!”
“What the hell are you talking about?! You’re the one who got mad at me!”
“I didn't mean it and I definitely didn’t want you to leave!”
“Dude-”
“I'm sorry, okay? But I miss you!” Emily looked at Kevin. He frowned, realizing he'd just said something he was probably going to regret. “I mean, like- I-”
“Shut up,” said Emily, pinching her nose. Kevin's mouth closed. “Couldn't you just give me a call?!” Kevin shook his head.
“No, I ‘’lready did that!” he said. “And it took you forever!”
“It took less than it should've, because I was going fucking eighty!”
“Why?!”
“I don't know, why did you go 80 to come here?!” Emily asked, throwing her hands in the air. It took her a full ten seconds to regret her question, and it happened when she realized the answers were probably different. Drastically different. “You were in danger, okay? That’s why I was-” she shook her head and checked her phone for the time. “How did you find me, by the way?”
“Hacked your phone,” said Kevin, pointing to the phone. “You really need to change a couple of your passwords.”
“God, I wish I never taught you how to do that,” she sighed. “What you did was dangerous, okay? It’s Christmas eve, cops are gonna be out there looking for DUIs to sponsor the rest of the year, what did you think would happen?” Kevin looked at her and frowned.
“It’s… Christmas eve?” he asked. Emily nodded. Kevin grabbed her wrist and looked at her phone. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Emily said. “You been in that church for so long you don’t even know what day it is.”
“You have,” said Kevin. Emily frowned.
“No I haven’t, I know what day it is.”
“No, you said ‘you been’, it’s ‘you have been’,” he answered. Emily looked at him and didn’t answer. “I thought you were supposed to be like- hella smart.”
“Are you… correcting my grammar?”
“Yeah, because it’s shit,” he complained. Emily scoffed.
“I’m smarter than you are, advanced placement,” she said. Kevin shook his head. “Okay, tough guy, don’t make me test you, you’re way too drunk for that.” Kevin tried to talk, but she interrupted him. “Sorry, way too ‘intoxicated’.”
“That’s not funny,” he said. Emily shrugged. “Why are you like this? Why can’t you be nice for ten seconds?”
“I don’t know, why can’t you?”
“I’m not nice because you’re not nice!” he said, almost falling to the side. He sat on the bed.
“Okay, and I’m not nice because I don’t want to be!” she yelled. “I don’t know if you’ve realized yet, but I’m gonna die! Like- soon! So I’m not really planning to make new friends!” Kevin shook his head. “Especially not with the guy who’s supposed to tell me how I die!”
“So you’re just gonna be an asshole for the rest of your life?” Kevin asked. “I didn’t choose this, okay? Trust me, if I could I wouldn’t be doing it!”
“Yeah, but I did! I did choose this, because I am the idiot who opened the gates when I was a dumb kid like you, so now I have to be the idiot that dies to close them!” Kevin looked at her for a second.
“What did you say?” he asked. Emily took a deep breath.
“I was fourteen,” she said. “Sam was dead, and Dean had just been- really- really an asshole to me.” She sat on the bed in front of him. “A demon convinced me to do it in exchange for bringing Sam back.”
“Oh,” Kevin frowned. “And… did it work?”
“Nope,” she sighed. “Dean killed the demon and I killed myself.” Kevin scratched the back of his neck and looked away. “Don’t feel bad for me, I’m alive, right?”
“Is that how-” Kevin trailed off, looking at her arms. “Nevermind, sorry, I- I-”
“Oh, shut up,” Emily groaned. “I don’t want your pity, I want you to help me close those stupid gates, so I can fix what I did when I was a dumb kid.”
“Can we go back to South Dakota?” Kevin asked. “I… I really don’t feel safe out here.”
“Should have thought of it before you drove over here,” Emily said. “We’re gonna go tomorrow morning.”
“Okay,” Kevin said and laid back on the bed. Emily sighed and did the same. He looked at the time on his phone. “Merry Christmas, by the way.”
“Merry Christmas.”
Emily walked into the church and threw her bag in a corner. Kevin walked past her and went straight to the altar where his notes were gathered.
“Alright,” said Emily, walking to her mattress. “Do your thing, but you’re taking a break for dinner.”
“What?” Kevin frowned. “No, it’s-”
“Oh no, we’re not gonna do that again, you need breaks. I’m not saying use the pomodoro method or some shit like that, just- once a day, okay? So you’re not running on redbull for seventy-two hours.”
“But I’m gonna go way too slow,” he said. “I’m never gonna translate a damn thing like this!”
“Believe it or not, I’m not in a rush to die,” she sighed. “Once a day, okay?”
“Once every four days,” Kevin said. Emily scoffed.
“Once every two.”
“Three,” Kevin said. Emily crossed her arms. “Not going lower than that.” She looked at him. Once every three days was better than never.
“Fine,” she said. “But you’re taking it, no matter what, you hear me? I’m gonna fucking knock you out if you don’t.” Kevin huffed and went to sit. “How far along are you, by the way?”
“Couple of words in,” he said. Emily nodded. “But I think I can get it in a month.”
“Take a month, take two, it’s fine for me,” Emily said. “As I said, not in a rush.”
“Get you nose out of your books, advanced placement, you gotta take a break,” she called. Kevin looked up, confused.
“Already?” he asked. Emily nodded. “It’s been three days?”
“Well, I went to sleep three times, and you haven’t, so yeah,” she said. Kevin frowned.
“You’ve gone to sleep?” he asked. Emily shook her head.
“Dinner,” she said. “How are you not starving?” Kevin stayed quiet for a second.
“I am starving, actually,” he said. “I didn’t realize.”
“I got you vegetarian hot dogs,” she said, turning on the electric stove. “Take out my laptop, we’re gonna watch a movie.”
“Okay, just… I am begging you, no more musicals,” Kevin sighed, walking towards her backpack.
“How does Harry Potter sound? I know it's super basic, but that's all I have on here.” Kevin nodded.
“Good-” he walked over to the stove and took a bite of an uncooked hotdog. “Never seen them.”
“Dude, that can’t be good for you,” she took the hotdog from him and put it in the pan. “Wait- you‘ve never watched Harry Potter?!”
“Nope.” Emily looked at him for a second.
“Jail,” she said. Kevin frowned. “You're going to nerd-jail for lack of life, what the hell did you do before you became a prophet?!”
“I… I studied?” he explained. “And I was in charge of a World of Warcraft guild. Didn't have much time to watch movies.”
“You played World of Warcraft?” Emily asked. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Why?” Emily shook her head. “What?” asked Kevin. Emily kept shaking her head, trying to contain her laughter. “What?!”
“You're a nerd is what!” she smiled. “A big ass nerd who has not watched Harry Potter.” Kevin scoffed.
“I'm a nerd? You only watch musicals and can recite the entire script of Wicked from start to finish!” he said.
“Yeah, that makes me a theater kid, not a nerd!” said Emily. “It's other things that make me a nerd, but at least I watched Harry Potter.” Emily stuck out her tongue and put the last hot dog in the pan. She walked to the minifridge. “Hands off the hotdogs, Advanced Placement,” she said, not looking back. She heard the sound of a hotdog being dropped into the pan.
“How the fuck did you know?” Kevin asked.
“Call it an instinct,” she sighed. She put two energy drinks on the altar, moving some notes to the side, and opened her laptop. By the time she’d found the movie on her hard drive, the hotdogs were ready. Emily put them on the table still in the pan next to a pack of bread. She played the movie and Kevin sat next to her.
By the end of it, Emily stood up, shook off her shirt from the breadcrumbs and groaned in pain. “No offense,” she said. “But your house has the most uncomfortable chairs ever.”
“I am very offended.” Kevin said with a huff. “How about next time we watch it on the bed?” Emily looked towards the mattresses on the other side of the church. She bit a bit of skin that was hanging from her nail.
“Umh-” she hesitated. “Yeah, okay, it's fine.”
“What?” asked Kevin. “I’m not going to put the moves on you if that's what you're worried about.”
“You got moves?” Emily smirked. “What are you gonna do, charm me with your World of Warcraft knowledge? Hypnotize me with the list of purple objects you found in one raid?” She asked, cracking her back again. Kevin crossed his arms and smirked. “No, seriously - I'd love to see your moves someday.”
“Why?” Emily shrugged.
“I just think it would be fun to see.”
She was bringing groceries back to the church when her phone rang. She struggled to get it out of her pocket while driving. The screen flashed Dean’s picture.
“Hello?” she answered the call.
“Hey, kid,” said Dean’s voice. Emily frowned. “At least one of you kept your phones up and running.”
“Dean?”
“Yeah, uh- Look, I’m in Louisiana,” he said. “Can we meet?”
“Wait, Dean- you-”
“Yeah, I’m alive,” he said. “Look, it’s… it’s kinda hard to explain on the phone, where-”
“Sure, uh… I’ll text you the address, okay?”
“Kevin?” she called, entering the church. He didn’t answer. She walked over to the altar and took off his headphones. “Hey, I gotta tell you something.” Kevin looked at her for a second, then pushed away from the table, the chair scraping against the old church floor.
“What’s going on?” he asked. Emily smiled. “What?”
“Dean’s coming here,” she said. Kevin’s eyes widened. “He just called me, he’s-he’s back, I-I-”
“Wait, back up a second,” Kevin said. “He’s alive?”
“Yeah!” Emily smiled.
“Like you’ve been saying for like- a year?” Emily nodded. “Wow,” he said. “You seem… happy,” he said.
“That’s because I am happy,” she explained. “Jesus, I knew it!” she said. “I knew he was alive, it- it just didn’t make any sense!” Kevin stood up, and Emily hugged him. She didn’t know why, she was just happy. Happy in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.
“O-okay, we’re hugging,” Kevin said. “This is weird.”
“What?” Emily let him go. “It’s just a hug!”
“That’s not what’s weird,” Kevin explained. “Seeing you so happy you’re hugging me is weird.”
“Well, my brother’s alive, give me a break,” Emily complained.
“Okay, so… not to kill your whole vibe, but… Does he know about Sam?” Emily’s smile vanished. “Sorry.”
“Crap,” Emily said. “Shit.”
“You know he’s gonna ask, right?”
“Yeah,” Emily said. She put a hand in her pocket and took out some weed.
“Really?” Kevin asked.
“I gotta think,” she said. “You work for three days straight, you don’t get to judge me.”
It wasn’t more than twelve hours later that someone knocked on the church door. She put down the beer and hurried to open the door. Behind it, Dean. Standing. Alive. Real, and right in front of her. Emily knew exactly what she should have done. She should have gotten some holy water, some silver, some iron. Checked if it was really him.
Did she do it?
No.
She had known, all that time, Dean wasn't really dead. And him standing in front of her was the proof. She lunged towards him to hug him, but he stepped back and sprayed her with holy water. “What-” Taken by surprise, Emily froze in place as the cold water ran down her and soaked her shirt and overalls. “I’m not a d-” She closed her mouth as she felt more water splash on her face. “Dean-” She tried to say, shaking the borax out of her eyes with her hands. Just as he did so, Dean grabbed her arm trying to check her with silver. Feeling the pressure of Dean’s hands on her wrist, Emily reacted. With one move, she threw Dean on the ground, face down, and blocked his arms behind him. “Jesus- Dean!” she complained, seeing he was trying to escape her grapple. “Stop! I can do it myself-” She tried to hold him down as strong as she could, but Dean quickly turned the situation upside down.
“You’re a little rusty.” Dean smirked, handing her the knife. Emily shoved it out of his hand and used it to cut her arm.
“See?” she sighed. “Fucking clean.” Dean moved away from her and stood back up. He took the bottles of borax and holy water and handed them to her. “What- Dean, come on.” Dean rolled his eyes, annoyed. He stood back up and poured the rest of the bottles on himself. Emily sighed and handed Dean the knife.
“Okay, now that we’re fucking drenched in chemicals, can we say hi?” Emily asked. Dean crossed his arms and looked at her sighing. “What?” she asked, annoyed.
"You're still wearing those fucking overalls." he said. Emily let out a huff. She took a step towards him.
“Yeah well, you’re still fucking annoying,” she said before hugging him. After a second of hesitation, Dean’s hand landed on Emily’s shoulder. “I fucking knew it- I knew you were alive.” she whispered. Emily pulled away from the hug. “What happened to you?”
“I-” Dean sighed, his voice imperceptibly shaky. He closed his eyes for a long moment. “When Dick exploded, I- I went straight to Purgatory.”
“Oh,” said Emily, surprised. “So, that’s where you’ve been? How did you-”
“I mostly ran for my life,” said Dean. Emily’s hands moved from Dean’s face to his shoulder.
“How did you get out?”
“It’s- It’s complicated. I’m back. That’s- Yeah, I’m back.” Dean crossed his arms and tapped his fingers over his elbow. Emily nodded. She looked around. If Dean ever came back, she had expected him to be with Castiel, but the angel wasn’t around. She looked at Dean and debated asking about the angel, but chose not to. She hugged him again.
"Since when you're a hugger?" asked Dean. Emily shrugged and didn’t answer. "It's nice to see you too, kid." Emily felt a lump forming in her throat, but swallowed it back. “Are you going to invite me in or are we going to hang out here all night?” With a chuckle, Emily moved away from Dean and followed him inside. “Where’s Sam?” asked Dean. Emily looked at Dean and crossed his arms. Kevin walked out the bathroom and froze. Dean saw him and looked at Emily. She looked away. “What the hell is going on?” he asked. Emily looked at Kevin.
“I'll grab you two a couple of beers,” said Kevin.
“I haven't heard from Sam in almost a year,” said Emily. Dean frowned. “When you and- and- Dick- when you disappeared, I tried to look for you. But Sam, uh-” Yeah, she’d thought about it the whole night, but there was no easy way to put it. “He couldn’t handle it.”
“What?” Dean frowned. “What does that mean?”
“Last time I heard from him he was in the psych ward and did not want to see me,” she said. Dean looked away. “Which, you know, is good, because it means he’s alive.”
“So you… just left him behind?” he asked. Kevin walked towards them with the beers. Emily took one, begging Kevin not to leave with her eyes. He stood in between her and Dean, uncomfortable.
“No, I went there- we went there like a bunch of times, but- he won’t see me, so…” Emily looked at the floor and cleared her voice. Dean didn’t answer. “Thanks,” she said to Kevin. He made his way back to the altar. “I kept working, you know- by myself.”
“And what is he doing here?” asked Dean, pointing at Kevin. Emily sighed. “Dick’s dead, why isn’t he back to his mom?”
“There's… a second tablet. The demon tablet.” Dean's eyes widened. Emily sighed.
“So… you’re into puppy rescues now?” he asked. Emily shrugged.
“Dean, the demon tablet says how to close the gates of hell,” she explained. “Like- forever.”
“What?”
“Yeah, it's... it's three trials.” Emily looked away, knowing full well Dean could come to the conclusion the trials were deadly himself. “I already started them.”
“You're kidding.”
“No, man, I'm being serious. Look, I opened the gates, okay?” she explained. “I’m gonna fix it.”
“So, what's the deal? You do these trials and then what?”
“Uhm,” Emily sighed. “Death, I guess.”
“Dude!” yelled Dean, getting Kevin's attention. “Death? Seriously? Are you really that far off?!”
“Dean, this isn't just a way to kill myself, okay? I'm trying to do what's best. You know- for everyone and not just for me?” she said. Dean paced towards the bathroom door.
“If you really wanted to do what's best you'd keep fighting the fight!” he complained.
“Dean, this is permanent!” Emily yelled. “Closing the gates means no more demons! There’s not gonna be a fight to fight anymore!”
“Yeah, but at what cost?” Dean asked. Emily scoffed.
“I'm sure the world will be fine without me!” she complained.
“Yeah, but maybe I won't!” said Dean. Emily looked at him. He sat down on a bench.
“Dean,” she called. “I'm sorry, okay? But you were gone. Sam hates me. Bobby's dead. I had to go on by myself.”
“I know,” he said. He stood up and walked towards the door. “I- I- I’ll give you a call. I’m gonna go find Sam.”
Emily laid on the bed next to Kevin. He paused the movie he was watching.
“Are you okay?”
“I don't know,” she whispered. “I know I should be happier Dean's back, but…” She took a deep breath. “He's mad at me and- and he's gone again, so…”
“He's alive, just like you've been saying all year.”
“Yeah, but… is he? When he talked about being in purgatory, he… I can tell he went through some rough shit down there.” she explained, holding herself up on her elbows.
“If Dean is half as tough as you are he's going to be fine,” Kevin smiled. That was a weird moment to give her a compliment, but it meant good mood, so she moved closer to him.
“What are you watching?” she asked.
“Five hundred days of summer,” Kevin answered, pointing at the screen.
“Five hundr- what? Why?” she asked. Kevin shrugged. “Isn't it like a- a- chick flick or something?”
“Your hard drive is very limited in choice,” said Kevin.
“Dude, I have like 200 hundred movies!”
“How many of them are not musicals?” Emily looked at him and shook her head.
“Take off your headphones, I wanna watch that too.”
“Damn, I like Summer so much,” Emily smiled. “I feel like me and her would be really good friends.” Kevin huffed. “Also, I think we'd have really good sex.”
“Now that I think about it, you do have a lot of things in common.”
“Really?” Emily crossed her arms. “Like what?”
“Like being afraid of commitment,” he said. “and being like- super weird,”
“I'm not weird!” she complained. “You're weird!” Kevin looked at her and blinked a couple of times. “What?”
“I'm weird?” he huffed. “Dude, you have a gun collection, you know all the lyrics to like- a hundred musicals!”
“And?”
“That's weird!” Kevin said. Emily pushed him off the mattress with a laugh.
“If I'm weird, you can sleep on the floor.” Kevin climbed back on the mattress. “Don’t worry, I don't mind you being a weirdo.”
“I mean, we've been living together for like a year,” she said. “I better have grown on you.” Kevin shrugged. “Wait, what do you mean ‘being afraid of commitment’?” she asked. “What would you know about that?”
“I know you won’t be friends with anybody,” he said. “And that you try to get a one night stand everywhere we go.”
“That is inaccurate,” Emily complained. “Your data is biased, advanced placement, I don’t have a problem with commitment, I just don’t do love.”
“Why the hell not?” Kevin asked. “Everybody wants that, right?”
“Wrong,” Emily said. “I don’t look for that stuff, I’m good with having no strings.”
“Okay,” Kevin raised his eyebrows. “Weirdo.”
“Right back at ya,” Emily huffed and stood up. Just a few weeks prior, a conversation like that would have led to a fight, but something had changed: maybe it was that he was taking more breaks and he wasn’t completely on the way to insanity anymore, or maybe he was really growing on her and so she’d stopped being a complete asshole, but living in the church had been a very different experience from what it had been in the past. Emily would have dared to say that it was nice and that maybe Kevin and her were friends. If she suspected Kevin would be up for more than that? Yes, but she’d rather not think about it. When one of the mattresses hit the fan and blew out, he didn’t think twice to propose sharing. Which was… a thing friends did. At least that’s what Emily told herself. He never slept in it anyway.
Dean came back two weeks later. He entered the church and groaned. He threw his bag in a corner and walked right to Emily.
“Where the hell were you?” she asked. “It took you two weeks to drive to South Dakota and back? Where’s Sam?”
“In the car,” he answered. Emily didn’t wanna know how he’d convinced him. “We took a detour, took a couple cases, and get this: Men of Letters.” Emily blinked twice.
“What?” she asked, confused, trying to look for Sam through the doorway, but Dean closed it.
“Dad’s dad, part of a secret society or stuff like that, they had a secret bunker and we have the keys,” Dean showed her a big, old key.
“Okay, this is making less sense the more you speak, you said secret bunker?” she asked. Dean nodded. “From something called the Men of Letters?” Dean nodded again. “Okay, what’s in the secret bunker?”
“Oh, kid, what’s not in it?” Dean said. “Dude, it’s like a damn hotel, you’ll love it.” He dangled the key in front of her face. Emily took it and examined it. “Ready to go when you are.”
“Woah, wait,” she said. “Where’s Sam? I want to speak with him.” The door opened again and Sam entered. He looked at her. He looked better, somehow. “Hey,” she said. Kevin looked up from his notes. She felt his eyes on her neck and scratched it. Sam’s mind felt calm, nothing like what she felt before he left. He was okay. Kinda.
“Yup,” he said. “All good.”
“I can see that,” she said. She turned towards Kevin for a second, who quickly went back to his notes.
“Can we… uh- can we talk?” Sam asked. Emily sighed and nodded. She followed him outside the church and down the steps. “Look, I just wanted to-”
“It’s been a year, Sam, what the hell happened?” she asked. “You know how many times I tried to come see you?”
“Yeah, about that,” Sam whispered. “I’m sorry, Emily, I- I needed time, I- I needed to figure out who I am, and- and it would have been hard with you around.”
“But the moment Dean comes, you follow him?” she asked. “I don’t buy it.”
“You really think Dean gave me a choice?” Sam asked. “He practically dragged me out of there after ripping me a new one.” Emily rolled her eyes. “But he was right, I- I left you to fend for yourself and it wasn’t right, I- I should have been out here helping you figure this thing out.”
“So he told you?” Emily asked. “About the trials?”
“Yup,” he answered. Emily sighed. “I know he wants me to, I don’t know, tell me you fucked up, but to tell the truth, I’d have done the same.”
“I know,” she whispered. “I’m glad you’re back, Sam.”
“Me too, kid,” Sam smiled. “Even if I had to take one in the face from Dean to figure it out, he’s right, my place is out here.”
“Yeah,” Emily scoffed. “Jesus, he’s an asshole.”
“What, you’d forgotten?” Sam huffed. Emily smiled. “So, new house, are you coming?” he asked. Emily looked back inside the church, where Dean was talking with Kevin.
“Uh- I don’t know yet,” Emily said. “Kinda have something to figure out here.”
“I’m sure Kevin will be fine if he’s alone,” Sam said. “It’s a church, he’s safe.”
“We’ll see,” Emily sighed. Sam crossed his arms. “You want something to eat?” he nodded. “I gotta warn you, we only got vegetarian hotdogs and energy drinks.”
“Gotta pass on the energy drink, but I’ll have a hotdog,” Sam said with a smile. Emily smiled, too: she hadn’t imagined a day Sam would have accepted a hotdog. She walked back inside the church and to the electric stove. She took the hotdogs out the fridge, washed out some mold from them and put them on.
“So?” Kevin walked to her. “What did he say?”
“He looks better,” she said, looking back at Sam. “Still ignored me for a year, but I guess I’ll have to get over that.”
“Dean, he…” Kevin trailed off. “He said something about you leaving with them.” Emily frowned.
“He did?” she asked. “I never said I was going to.”
“You didn’t?” Kevin asked, crossing his arms. “I think you should go, this… bunker, it sounds like a better place than here.”
“First of all, I’m not leaving you here, and second-”
“No, actually,” Kevin interrupted her. “I think you should, you know- leave me here.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” Emily asked. “You wanna stay here? Alone?”
“Honestly?” Kevin asked. Emily nodded and turned the hotdogs in the pan. “Yeah,” he said. “I mean, Sam and Dean are back, and I can hardly work with just you around, and you… you shut up during the day. Dean has not let me work for half a second since he got here.”
“Okay, but… I don’t know, I wouldn’t feel safe knowing you’re here alone.”
“I’m gonna be fine,” Kevin said. “And you’re only a few states over, if something happened you could just drive eighty again to save me.” Emily huffed. “Really, I’ll be fine.”
“Are you sure?” she asked. He didn’t look sure, but he still nodded. Emily sighed. “Okay, but you call me, okay? Don’t go missing.”
“You already know I won’t,” Kevin smirked. Emily shook her head. She handed him a hotdog and he took a bite out of it. She shook her head with a smile.
Emily put her stuff in her bag and left the church. Kevin was bent over the tablet and Dean already had the engine running. She looked back one last time and took a deep breath. He was gonna be fine. Of course he was. It wasn’t like all the demons and all the angels were looking for him. He was perfectly safe. Kevin looked up and at her for a second before going back to the tablet. She closed her eyes and walked to the car. She threw her backpack in the back and sat behind Dean.
“You ready to go?” he asked. Emily looked inside the church again. She heard Dean snicker and hit Sam’s shoulder.
“What?” she asked. Sam shrugged. “What?!”
“Oh, come on,” Dean said. “What’s going on here, uh?” he pointed to Kevin. Emily frowned.
“Nothing,” she answered. “Why?”
“I don't know,” said Dean. “You've been living together all this time, and you didn't- you know- not even once?” he drove off the church.
“Dude, what the hell?” Emily complained. “No, of course not!”
“How do you deal with stress?!” he asked.
“Not with sex!” she yelled. “Like- imagine the mess this would become!”
“I thought you were good with no strings attached things,” Sam said. Dean nodded along, all proud of his theory.
“Yeah, do you think Kevin is?” asked Emily. Dean shrugged.
“So, how did it go?”
“We got some close calls,” said Emily. “But we always managed to pull through.”
“How many times did you guys almost kill each other?” he asked.
“A few,” Emily smirked. “We… we separated for a few weeks last month. But then…” she sighed. Dean turned towards her. “He drove to my motel- drunk, to try and get me back.”
“Wow,” Dean laughed. “Now I understand what you mean when you say sex wouldn't be a good idea.”
“Yup,” she sighed.
“He’s going crazy for you, isn't he?” Sam asked.
“It's a possibility,” she said. “Obviously We- we haven't talked about it, but you know… he's not very good at hiding it.”
“Hold it,” said Dean, putting down his hamburger on the Bunker’s table. Emily sighed and brought her beer to her lips. “You took on a hellhound, alone?”
“No, Kevin was with me!” said Emily. Dean raised his eyebrows.
“So, you took on a hellhound, alone, while babysitting?”
“We did fine.” she said. “He didn't even need to use his gun.”
“You gave Kevin a gun?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrows.
“A big one, for that matter. Look- what was I supposed to do?!” she asked. “He wanted to come, and wouldn’t take no for an answer!”
“So you're not only suicidal, you're also homicidal. Is that what you're trying to tell me?” said Dean. Sam hit his chest with the back of his hand.
“Come on, dude,” he complained.
“Kevin's not an idiot, okay?” Emily said. “I taught him how to handle the gun and he was fine.” Dean looked at her and took a bite of his hamburger. “Okay, he was hurt and vomited a bunch after he saw someone getting killed, but he was fine in the end!”
“Oh, sorry if I underestimated your boyfriend!” Dean said, cleaning his mouth with his sleeve. Emily scoffed. “I guess he forgot to mention he took AP shooting at school!”
“You're not funny!” said Emily. “And he's not my boyfriend!”
“Yeah, okay,” Sam said. “But, you know, only one mattress at the church, so…”
“Wait, really?” Dean turned towards Sam. “You guys sleep in the same bed?!”
“We used to have two, but, you know… One of them broke,” she explained.
“Okay, get a new one,” Dean said. “It’s not like Bobby left you with fifty cents.”
“I’m not spending Bobby’s inheritance on camping gear so I can convince you two that me and Kevin are not an item!” she complained. “Look, we’re gonna have to figure out a schedule with the car because I left my truck in South Dakota and I need to go see Kevin at least once a week.”
“For what? Miss him after a while?” Dean snickered. Emily rolled her eyes. “Okay, sorry, just- there’s a bunch of old cars in the garage, just take one.”
Emily sat in the church, holding two UNO cards in her left hand while laying on the bench. Kevin was sitting across from her, finally taking a break after Emily had to basically drag him out of the chair.
“I don’t know, Dean’s weird,” she said, staring at the ceiling. “Apart from the fact that he’s unusually friendly with me, he… I don’t know, he’s got something weird about him when he hunts.” Kevin looked at his cards and didn’t say anything. “He’s- I don’t know, he looks on edge.”
“Okay,” Kevin sighed. “But you should make your move.” Emily lifted her head off the bench as Kevin waved his cards at her. “You know, it's been your turn for quite a while.”
“Sorry…” Emily played her card and sighed. “Uno.”
“Oh.” Kevin squinted and counted his cards. He threw them on the bench. “I give up.” he sighed. “Can I ask you something?” Emily nodded and sat up. “What do you mean ‘unusually nice’? He’s your brother, I- I don’t know, I’d expect him to be nice to you almost all the time.” Emily sighed
“I don't know.” Kevin frowned. “I mean, I know. But it's a long story.” he looked at her. “A lot of stuff happened in the past ten years, kinda hard to sum it up.”
“Okay…” Kevin sighed. “I’m gonna take the hint that you don’t want to talk about it.” Emily smiled.
“Harry Potter?” she asked. Kevin nodded. Emily reached for her laptop. “We have to hurry up if we want to watch them all before the trials kill me.” Emily turned towards Kevin, expecting a laugh that never came. “What?” she asked. “It’s a joke.” Kevin shook his head.
“Yeah, just… You know, I'm not sure death is… funny.” Emily shrugged.
“Oh, come on,” she said. “We have to laugh about something, don't we?” Kevin didn’t answer. Emily pulled up the movie and started it.
“Emily, listen, I-” Kevin looked around for a second. Emily crossed her arms. He shook his head again. “Do you think we could go and see my mom one of these days?” Emily paused the movie.
“I- I don't know. It's not a good idea, Crowley's probably got her under surveillance.”
“Yeah, But- we can go together,” he said. “We'll be careful.”
“Kevin…” Emily trailed off. Kevin stood up and walked away. “I’m sorry, okay? Maybe we- we can figure out a way to send her a message to let her know you're okay, but-”
“It’s fine,” he said. Kevin walked to the altar and put both hands on it. Emily followed him.
“Seriously, I’m sorry, okay? I- I'll try to figure another way.”
“I said it's fine!” Kevin sat back at the altar and pulled up his notes.
Next weekend, Dean dropped her off at the church on the way to a case while Sam was following up on a lead on Abaddon, the Knight of Hell they’d tried to trap back when she was still living at the church, Emily walked inside the building and found it empty. She frowned.
“Kevin?” When only the echo answered her, she walked towards the altar, behind which usually was Kevin's bed, but it was gone. Everything was gone, which could only mean one thing: he left. Not kidnapped, not taken, he’d just left. Emily looked around. She searched the floor with her glare, looking for a hint, any hint that would tell her where Kevin was.. “Come on, Kevin, don’t leave me hanging…” She walked to the corner where their bags used to be. “Come on, come on…” She noticed a piece of paper in a corner. Emily took the piece of paper and turned it. It was a picture of him and his mother. She took her phone and called Dean.
“You need to turn back,” she said as she heard his voice.
“What?”
“Kevin's gone.”
Emily sat in the Impala and put on her seatbelt. Dean looked at her and re-entered the road.
“Where to?” he asked. Emily looked at him.
“Don't hate me,” she said. “But we gotta go to Michigan.” Dean sighed. “I know, but that's where he's going.”
“Don't sweat it kid, just know we're gonna have to stop for gas,” he said. Emily nodded and twirled a strand of hair between two fingers. “Don’t panic, okay? We know where he’s going and he can’t drive that fast.”
“Oh, he can,” Emily said. “I just hope he took the bus.” Dean sighed. “What if something happens to him?” she asked. Dean smirked. “What?”
“Nothing,” he said. “Just- you're sure you don't like him back?” Emily rolled her eyes. “Come on, not even a little bit?”
“Dude,” Emily sighed. “Of course I don't.” Dean huffed. “I think I'd know, wouldn't I?”
“Yeah, you'd also lie about it,” Dean said. Emily shook her head. “We’ll see who's right.”
Emily leaned on the wall of the bus station. She played with a strand of hair, rolling it back and forth her finger endlessly, under Dean’s amused glare.
“Emily, why are you so worried?” he said. “We already know he’s fine, you kept his phone tracked the entire way over here. He’s on this bus.”
“I know. I’m just…” Emily sighed. “Imagine if one of Crowley's demons found him. He could have died.” Dean failed to hide a smirk.
“Are you mad at him?”
“Yeah- kinda.” Emily stared in front of her. Dean remained silent and nodded towards the bus that was coming in. Emily saw Kevin through one of the windows and pushed herself off the wall and walked towards the bus door. Dean looked at Emily as she crossed her arms, nervously waiting for Kevin to walk off the bus. When he did, he stopped in front of Emily.
“What are you doing here?” he said. Emily closed her eyes and tried to calm herself down. He was fine. Nothing had happened. But it could have. It could have happened and if it did, it would have been because he acted recklessly, which was exactly what she’d told him not to do.. Emily's hand flew faster than she could stop herself. When she realized she'd slapped him, getting the attention of more than a few people around them, Kevin was already massaging his cheek, confused. Emily looked at her hand.
“Sorry,” she said. “Jesus-” Emily turned away from Kevin and took a deep breath. She tried to push back the tears that were trying to escape her control. “Jesus, I hate you-” she said, not talking with Kevin, it was barely a hiss, just loud enough for Dean to hear. He turned towards Kevin and said something, but she didn't hear it. She closed her eyes, the world starting to get blurry. She felt her heart pound on her ears, insisting on reminding her how much she fucked up. Her mind cleared the second she felt a hand on her shoulder. It was Dean.
“Emily,” he called. Emily shook her head but took a deep breath and turned towards Kevin. He was looking at her, nervously biting his nails.
“Sorry,” Emily repeated.
“Why did you do that?” asked Kevin. “I just wanted to see my mom!”
“Kevin, Crowley's looking for you. What would have happened if one of his demons had found you?!”
“I was careful!” he complained. Emily shook her head.
“How?! I doubt you checked every person on the bus, did you?” Kevin looked at her and sighed. “Didn't think so.”
“I need to know if my mom is okay,” he said.
“We talked about this!” said Emily. “She's gonna be surrounded by demons, it's… you're literally walking to Crowley and offering him your ass!” Kevin crossed his arms.
“How come you can risk your life to close the gates of hell, but I can't even see my mom?” he complained.
“Kevin, of course you can see your mom, just- you need to be careful, okay? This isn't a game!”
“You think I don't know?!” he said. “I’m the one who has to live in fear, paranoid someone's going to find me, unable to sleep, while you- you’re never worried for a second! This is my life, not yours!”
“What?!” Emily scoffed. “I dropped everything to help you- the least you can do is show some fucking gratitude and not get killed!”
“Oh, I’m grateful! I’m grateful I don't need you to take care of myself, so now I can go- and see my mom without you being up my ass!” Emily opened her mouth to answer, but Dean interjected.
“Alright, you’re starting to sound like an old married couple, stop it, okay?” Emily rolled her eyes. “Kevin, you're not going alone. Emily’s right, your house is going to be surrounded by demons, we’re coming with you.”
“Whatever.” Kevin started walking towards the exit.
“Oh, so- he can help you?!” said Emily, starting to follow him. Kevin turned towards her, coming so close to Emily’s face that she had to take a step back and they were still too close.
“I don't need you to survive,” he said. “I can take care of myself.” Emily averted Kevin’s gaze and saw him swallow. Too close. She thought. Definitely too close. Why the fuck was he not moving? Emily frowned. Kevin’s eyes nervously moved from one part of her face to another until Dean cleared his voice and Emily was reminded she could actually move and pushed Kevin away from her. He started walking towards the exit, Emily hesitated.
“Dude,” said Dean. “Not your boyfriend, uh?” Emily ignored him and followed Kevin outside the bus station.
Emily and Dean stood outside the tattoo parlor as Kevin and his mom got their anti possession tattoo.
“Dude, are you sure this is the right call?” Emily asked. “Having to babysit Kevin is one thing, but having to also babysit his mother-”
“Hey, you heard the woman, she wasn’t having any of it.”
“We could have ignored her, picked both of them up and locked them in the church,” Emily said. Dean raised his eyebrows.
“Is that how you deal with stuff now? Just- force people?” he asked.
“I learned from the best,” she sighed, walking towards a vending machine. Dean followed her.
“Or- you could learn from my mistakes instead,” he answered. Emily scoffed. “I mean it.”
“It’s only a mistake if the outcome is not good, but look at me, I’m fine, right?” she asked, putting money inside the machine.
“Are you?” Dean asked. Emily rolled her eyes. “What the hell happened to you this past year?”
“Let it go, Dean, nothing happened, I just figured out you were right all along,” she said. A can of soda fell to the bottom of the vending machine. Emily leaned down to get it.
“How’d you figure that?” Dean put his hands on his waist.
“Someone has to be the bad guy when everyone else’s trying to only take shitty decisions,” she explained. “You weren’t there to back me up, Cas wasn’t there to heal us, it was just me, Sam letting himself die on my couch and Kevin trying to get killed any chance possible.” When she mentioned Cas, Dean’s hands stopped on the vending machine keypad for a second.
“Yeah,” he sighed. Emily swallowed.
“Dean, what-”
“Cas didn’t make it, okay?” he said, waiting for the vending machine to drop his drink.
“Okay,” Emily sighed. “Sorry.”
“Yeah,” Dean walked away from the vending machine and went to sit on a bench. Emily stayed by the vending machine and looked away.
Emily slammed the locker closed. The locker where Kevin had said he’d ‘safely’ left the demon tablet. The same locker which was now empty.
“Nice!” she yelled. “Hiding the word of god in a bus station locker? What could go wrong?!” Kevin flopped on a bench next to his mom. Emily put her hands on her waist. “So, advanced placement, what do we do now?”
“Don't call me that!” he complained.
“I’ll call you however I want!” she said. “Nobody in their right mind would hide something in a bus station locker! These things-” Emily walked to another locker and yanked it open. “They don't even close, smart guy!”
“I’m sorry, okay? It's not like I wanted it to get stolen!” he said. Emily rolled her eyes and felt Dean's hand on her arm, dragging her away.
“What?!” She glanced back at Kevin, who seemed to be arguing with his mother.
“What the hell is wrong with you?!” said Dean.
“I’m fine,” Emily scoffed. Dean put his hands on his waist.
“Don’t you think you should lay off the kid a little bit?”
“Again with this shit?” she asked. “I mean, you see this?” Emily waved the empty diaper bag in front of him. “How am I supposed to trust a person that does this?”
“What, like you never fucked up?” he said. “You've made your fair share of mistakes- you opened the fucking gates to hell!”
“Oh, so we're talking mistakes?!” she said. “Let's talk mistakes!”
“Don’t bring me into this!” Dean complained. Emily rolled her eyes. “Come on, he's a kid- give him some grace!”
“Where was this grace when I fucked up?!” asked Emily. “Because all I remember was breakdown after breakdown, where you refused to help, where you-”
“I refused to help?” Said Dean. “Someone brought you back to Bobby's and it sure as hell wasn't Sam! Or dad! It was me, and it was me that had to endure your twenty minutes of incoherent screams and it was me who had to throw you in the shower to make you stop crying! So don't talk to me about giving you grace, I gave you grace!”
“What grace? I killed myself, for God's sake!” Emily looked at Dean. He brushed his face with his hand. “You see this? Now? This is why you and I don’t work, like- ever.” said Emily. “I’ll go talk to the security guy. Stay with them.” Emily pointed at Kevin and his mother before she started walking towards the crowd, looking for the guard.
Emily hesitated outside the interrogation room. Dean didn't look back and walked in. He hadn't talked to her in hours, making her pay back saying they would never work. Kevin hadn't talked to her either, and Linda Tran just scowled at her. She unbuttoned the first button on her shirt and finally entered the room.
“Mister Smedley, right?” she asked. The man nodded. “I understand you've been stealing from the lockers in the bus station?”
“Yeah. That Jerry is smart. He got me.” The man laid back in his chair.
“Well, you stole something you shouldn't have,” said Dean. “Poked a couple of heads up high.”
“It's a tablet. Stone, weird incisions,” Emily explained. “Where is it?”
“I don't think I should discuss that without my lawyer,” said the man, smug. Emily smiled.
“I’m sure me and my partner can work something out with the local police,” she said. “Drop a couple of your charges.”
“I’ll tell you what,” he said. “You drop all of my charges, give me a look at those-” He pointed at her chest. Emily felt a shiver down her spine. “And I’ll tell you where it is.” She glanced back at Dean, who had been pacing behind her, but had stopped. In the silence that followed, Dean walked behind the man and took off his tie. Emily was about to speak again, when Dean grabbed the thief from his suit and slammed him against the wall. Emily closed her eyes, startled. When she opened them again, Dean had wrapped his tie around the man's neck and was pushing a knife to his throat. “Dean!” she called.
“Still want to see my sister's boobs?” he asked. “Or would you rather just tell me where the tablet is?”
“You didn't need to do that,” said Emily, stripping out of her shirt and shoving it in her bag. Dean didn't answer. “I can take care of a creep without you stepping in.”
“You're welcome,” said Dean, closing his bag. “You ready or what?”
“Do I look like I’m ready?” Emily said. “I need a second, okay?”
“Okay, seriously, what is going on?” asked Dean. “And don't say you're fine because I’m not in the mood.”
“Well, I’m not in the mood either.” Emily wore a clean shirt. “Which badge are you bringing?” she asked.
“The ones you made, I’m… umh- Ryan McCartan,” he said. Emily closed her bag and left the room without saying a word.
Emily entered the pawn shop followed by Dean, Kevin and Linda Tran. “Hello sir, agents Wilbert and McCartan, FBI.” She showed her fake badge. “We’re looking for a tablet, stone, hieroglyphic marks all over it.”
“A thief named Clef sold it to you,” said Dean. “Ring any bells?”
“Nope.” the clerk said. Emily looked at Dean.
“Look,” he said. “I’ve had a very bad day today, so I’m not in the mood. If you want to do this the rough way, I’m very happy to oblige.”
“Sure,” said the clerk. “If you want to get famous.” He pointed at the security cameras. Linda Tran walked to the counter.
“Is that your car outside?” she asked.
“Yeah,” said the clerk. “Why?” Dean was about to interject, but Emily stopped him.
“I noticed you're driving with expired tags, maybe because you just acquired it in a trade, and I’m guessing that means you haven't registered it yet, which means you haven't paid the tax. Is that correct?” The clerk raised his eyebrows.
“That's none of your business.”
“Kevin-” said Linda. “Average blue book on a 2010 Ferrari F430 Spider?”
“217 thousand dollars,” said Kevin.
“And the 5% Wyoming tax?” Emily answered before Kevin could.
“10 thousand 850 dollars,” she said. Kevin scowled at her. Dean rolled his eyes.
“That's quite some money you owe,” he said.
“What is this, an FBI audit?”
“No-” said Linda. “But my brother, who happens to work for the Wyoming tax assessor’s office, could arrange that if he thought something untoward was happening here.” The clerk took a step back. “So, what's it gonna be, the tablet or that piece of trash you call a car?”
Emily knocked on room 126. When no one answered, she knocked again.
“Are you sure you read the address right?” she asked Kevin. He rolled his eyes.
“I know how to read an address,” he hissed.
“Kevin?” said an unfamiliar voice. Emily turned to see a man in a suit and a top hat.
“Depends. Who’s asking?” Emily put her hands on her waist.
“Oh don’t worry,” said the man. “I’m not going to steal your prophet.” The man walked closer to Emily. “Beau. My pleasure.” He then turned towards Kevin. “Imagine my luck. Here I was, working so hard looking for you- that I never stopped to think you might be looking for me.” Beau theatrically extracted something from his pocket. “I have something for you.” Emily tried to take it, but Beau moved his hand away and kept looking at Kevin.
“It’s an invitation, dear man, to a very exclusive auction.”
“Let me guess- where you’ll be selling the tablet,” said Dean.
“Well, when we acquire an item as hot as the Word of God, it's smart to unload it as fast as possible,” Beau explained. “And we are in such desperate need of a headliner for tonight's gala.” Emily rolled her eyes.
“I hope you have some extras,” she said. “because there’s no way Kevin’s getting in there alone.” Beau smiled.
“If you’re worried about the safety of the Prophet-”
“Yeah- yeah, that’s what I’m worried about. And there’s nothing you can say that will make me change my mind, so you better let us in, dick.”
“Charming. The gossip was right,” said Beau. “Well, if you put it like that, I’ll just go ahead and add a plus three to the invitation.” He threw the invitation in the air and disappeared. Dean sighed.
“So, what do we have to bid?”
“I doubt demonic auctions take money, Dean.” Emily looked at Kevin and squinted. “But I don’t think we need anything to bid, right?” Kevin raised his eyebrows as Emily took a step towards him. “You have good memory,” she said. Linda Tran put her hands on her waist.
“Of course he has.”
“Prove it. Periodic table, start from the bottom, by number, not by position.” Kevin opened his mouth to start. “Start from number 81.”
“Thallium, Mercury, Gold, Platinum, Iridium, Rhenium- Do you want me to keep going?” he crossed his arms.
“You think you can memorize the spell if you see it?”
“That’s lightweight,” said Kevin. Emily scoffed.
“Oh is it? Because number 76 is not Rhenium, it’s Osmium.” Kevin rolled his eyes.
“Oh, you’re so good.” he hissed. “I’m sure if you were a prophet, you’d memorize all the spells.”
“Jesus, Kevin- Shut up, okay?” she walked away. Dean caught up with her and elbowed her in the ribcage. She pushed him away.
“Are you still sure you don't want to talk about it?” said Dean, looking at Emily as she tried to unbutton her shirt in the motel room. “You seem worked up.”
“Yes, Yes- Dean, I’m sure,” she said. “You know why? Because there’s nothing to talk about.” Emily fumbled with the buttons, growing more frustrated. Dean sighed and dropped on the bed next to where Emily was standing.
“Come on. Just tell me what's going on.”
“Dean, you don't have to do this, it's fine,” said Emily. “Also, you suck at it.”
“No, it's not. You're nervous and you're starting to be insufferable. It's making me want to punch you. So just spit it out.” Emily scoffed.
“Is that your way of trying to help or something?”
“I guess,” said Dean. Emily put her hands on her bag and drew a deep breath.
“Okay, listen…” she said. “I lied. About five, six months ago- I think something started happening between us. We… we didn't have any real gigs for a while and- and it just started to feel like normal life again, so- I guess I let my guards down,” she explained. Dean crossed his arms. “We started to flirt, you know? But then- We- We got attacked and it was a close call.”
“So?”
“So nothing ever happened again,” she sighed.
“So you do like him.”
“No, I-” Emily looked around. “I mean yeah, if you're only factoring sex in. But I- I'm not sure he-”
“You don't think it'd have been just sex for him?”
“Exactly,” she said. “When we were doing the first trial he turned jealous on me and I realized… I realized this might be a problem.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m supposed to die, and he’s supposed to help me,” said Emily. Dean sighed. “And I’m scared he’s going to… I don’t know, stop me, or- or do something-”
“And you think being a bitch to him is going to fix this or something?” asked Dean. Emily looked away. “Dude, if he really likes you- you can be a bitch all you want. He’s just going to think you hate him.” said Dean. “Do you?”
“No, of course not.” said Emily. “But I don’t- I don’t like him that way, okay?”
“If you say so.” Dean stood up and patted Emily’s back. “By the way,” he pointed to her t-shirt. “You look like a minion.” Emily frowned. “One of those yellow things from Despicable Me.”
“Fuck you, man,” Emily released a chuckle. “You think I look like Bob from Despicable Me? You should take a look at yourself.”
“I look amazing,” said Dean.
“Yeah, but you also look like every lesbian in every basic ass movie.” Dean stood up and checked himself in the mirror.
“Are you saying I look a gay woman?”
“Yeah.” said Emily. “That’s exactly what I’m saying.” Dean looked in the mirror and shrugged.
“Great!” said Emily, looking at how the tablet had been covered. “Looks like plan A is down the drain.”
“And what, pray tell, could possibly have been plan A?” Emily turned to see Crowley standing behind them. “Bring the Prophet to the most dangerous place on Earth, memorize the tablet, and then vamoose? Hello, boys. Ladies.” Crowley walked towards them. “Sheep, you kinda look like one of those yellow things from Despicable Me,” he said, a hint of mockery in his voice. “Where did you leave Moose?”
“Who?”
“Samuel. I thought you two were inseparable. Lived together, went crazy together- probably pooped together too.” Crowley smirked. “Did you also have sex with the same people, or…”
“Bite me, Crowley.”
“Sorry, not my type.” Crowley smirked. “This lovely thing, on the other side…” He walked closer to Mrs Tran. “Kevin, this must be your sister.”
Emily sat in a chair next to Kevin with a sigh and crossed her arms. Kevin glared at her and then went back to looking at the auction.
“Our first item, the amulet of Hesperus,” said the man on the stage.
“What a waste of time,” Emily whispered. Dean leaned over to her.
“Give me all your cash,” he said. Emily looked at him for a second, then opened her wallet and handed him one-hundred dollars.
“You know we aren’t gonna need those, right?” she complained. “A dude just bid dwarven gold.” Dean ignored her and collected money from everyone else. Emily glanced at the stack of bills. “Two thousand dollars and a costco membership? I’m sure demons can’t wait to buy wholesale packs of chips.”
“I don’t know, you have a plan ‘C’ by any chance?” Kevin asked. “You’re a genius, you should figure that out.”
“‘Do you’, Kevin, use your grammar,” Linda complained. Emily looked at Kevin and shook her head. Dean stood up and left.
“You know, none of this would be happening if you didn’t lose the damned thing,” Emily hissed, leaning closer to Kevin’s ear.
“Or if you just let me go to Michigan,” he answered.
“And you don’t think we could have figured out another way to contact your mom?”
“I think-” Dean came back to his seat and sighed.
“Plan ‘C’ tanked,” he complained. Emily rolled her eyes and was about to answer Kevin, but Crowley leaned in the middle of their chairs.
“Maybe you should try plan ‘D’ for ‘dumbass’,” he said.
“Our next lot,” said Beau on the stage. “The word of God.” He held the tablet up. “Capital ‘G’, very rare.” Crowley’s chair scraped on the floor and he stood up.
“Three billion dollars,” he said. Emily huffed. A man dressed as a fast food worker stood up, too.
“The Mona Lisa.”
“The real Mona Lisa,” Crowley said. “Where she’s topless.”
“Vatican City,” said the other man. Emily leaned towards Dean.
“Is that…”
“An angel? Yeah,” he said.
“Alright,” Crowley said. “The moon.” Emily leaned back towards him.
“Who’s looking like a character from Despicable Me now, uh?” she asked. Crowley looked at her and raised his eyebrows.
“You really think a man named Buzz gets to go to space without making a deal?” he asked. Emily shook her head.
“I’m sorry, gentlemen,” said Beau. “It seems that our reserve price has not been met. So, in order to stimulate the bidding, we’re going to add an item to this lot.” He pointed to Kevin. Emily was already standing up, but Dean held her in place. “Kevin Tran, prophet of the Lord.” Kevin disappeared and reappeared on stage.
“What are you doing?” Emily asked, trying to stand up.
“You’re gonna get us kicked out, then what?” he said. Emily shoved his hands off her arm and crossed them.
“So we just let them sell him? What are we gonna do then?”
“Guys!” Sam called from a few chairs over. He pointed to Linda Tran, who was standing up. Emily looked at the stage.
“Interesting,” said Beau. “Your soul?”
“If it’s souls you’re after, I can give you a million souls,” said Crowley. He then leaned towards Emily. “You know, Sheep, you really should try to pay attention at these events, lest you get into even more trouble.”
“It’s not about the quantity, Crowley, it’s about the sacrifice,” said Beau. “This little lady’s soul is the most valuable thing she had. It’s everything. Are you willing to offer everything, Mr. Crowley?” Emily looked back at him.
“Tick, tock, dumbass,” she said.
“Fine,” he said. “I offer my own soul!” The entire room laughed.
“Sure thing, Crowley,” Beau said. “Congrats, sweetheart, you win this round of auction.”
Emily looked at Sam and Dean talked with Linda as she smoked a cigarette by the window. Crowley walked towards her.
“I don’t think there’s a smoking rule in hell, Sheep,” he said.
“Shut up, Crowley,” she complained. “And consider yourself lucky I can’t kill you right now.”
“Have it your way, Sheep, but I could have helped, weren’t you so damned scornful all the time,” he said. Emily rolled her eyes.
“I heard one of your precious babies went missing,” she said. “Any idea what happened to him?”
“Don’t play dumb with me,” Crowley said. “I know it was you and your asian toyboy that killed Fuffy. He was my favourite.” Emily looked back at Linda and Kevin.
“What is he going to do with her soul?” she asked.
“Whatever he wants. sweetheart,” Crowley smirked. “Of course, nothing to do with what your precious Moose went through.”
“Am I supposed to consider that a win?” she asked. When she turned towards Crowley, he was gone. She sighed and stayed by the window to finish the cigarette, then walked towards Sam and Dean. Beau was just about to hand off Linda and Kevin, when Emily noticed something on Mrs Tran’s arm. She rushed the last few steps.
“Wait,” she called and grabbed her. She pulled up the sleeve to show everyone the anti-possession tattoo had been burned off. She looked at the woman and her eyes turned red, but she didn’t need that to know that it was Crowley.
“Hello, boys.” said Crowley's voice. With a fling on his finger, Dean went flying on the wall. Emily fell to the ground. “Sheep, why do you always have to make me put in effort?” he said. “You and your demon blood are insufferable.” With another fling of Mrs Tran's hand, Emily flew to the wall as well. She fell to the ground and stood up. Dean was already running after Crowley. Kevin tried to follow them, but Emily grabbed his arm.
“Stop!” she said, dragging him back into the room.
“Let me go!” Kevin complained. Emily shoved him further into the room.
“It’s not safe, okay? We need to get you away from here!” Kevin tried to fight back.
“I told you- I can take care of myself!” yelled Kevin, shoving his arm back. “I don't need you to help me!”
“I don’t give a shit what you think you need,” Emily said, following him through a hallway. “I have a job to do, so-” She turned the corner and stopped talking. Dean was pushing a knife at Mrs Tran's throat. “Dean!” she called. He turned, startled, and Mrs Tran smiled. A red smoke came out of her mouth.
“You’re unbelievable!” yelled Emily, entering the bunker. The car ride had been completely silent. She was mad, but she didn’t want to start a fight on a twelve hour drive. Sam walked past them as they were going down the stairs. “What made you think it was okay to try and kill his mother?!”
“Alright, listen,” said Dean. “Crowley possessed her, I was trying to do my job.” Emily scoffed.
“Your job?!” she yelled. “I’m sorry, I thought our job was saving people, not fucking murdering them!”
“What was I supposed to do?”
“An exorcism?” she said, “I don’t know- surely not try and kill her! No wonders they fucking ran god knows where!” she complained. “You can’t fuck up my stuff because you-” Emily rolled her eyes and swallowed her words.
“Because I what?” Dean asked. Emily ignored him and walked past him and towards her room. “Emily!”
“Stay out of this, okay?” she said, opening the door. Emily sat on her bed and took out her phone. One message from Kevin.
We lost the tablet, so you don't need me anymore. Don't bother trying to look for me.
Emily threw her phone across her bed, where it landed softly, screen up. Someone knocked on her door.
“Go away, Dean!” she said.
“It’s-uh- It’s me,” said Sam’s voice. Emily used her powers to open the door. He walked in. “Come on, kid, he’s gonna call you back. Maybe in a few days, when he calms down?” Sam said. Emily shook her head. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”
“Sam, whatever you and Dean are thinking about me and Kevin- forget it, okay? There never was anything, and there never will be.”
“Okay,” Sam sat on the bed next to her and handed her her phone. “But you don’t think maybe that's the problem? That, I don't know- you think there's nothing and he doesn't and that's what's making you fight?”
“Okay, you know what?” Emily asked, standing up and going towards the door. “I don't wanna hear any more about this thing, you hear me? How about you two let me live my life?” she walked towards the stairs. Dean was still taking out something from his bag.
“Where are you going now?” he asked.
“None of your business!” she yelled. Emily started walking up the stairs.
“Can’t we just talk about this?” Sam asked. Emily scoffed.
“Yeah. Talk. Sure,” she opened the door and left, slamming it behind her. She drove to the church. She wasn't sure why, she knew it was going to be empty. She just drove there on instinct. She sat on one of the benches and stared at the altar. It was all her fault. She stayed silent until the church door opened. She turned, it was Dean.
“What do you want?” she asked. Dean walked up to her bench and sat next to her. He handed her a plastic bag. Inside, a hamburger. “What is this?”
“Shut up and eat,” said Dean. Emily smiled.
Make up your mind / Catch I’m falling
from Next To Normal
Emily threw her bag on the motel bed and sighed. She turned on a cigarette that Sam immediately tried to take away from her. She dodged him.
“I did not miss this,” she said.
“I can’t believe Kevin’s burned us again.” Dean sighed, opening a beer. “The kid’s like a criminal prodigy.” Emily opened her bag and took out an old t-shirt.
“I taught him the basics, it’s not my fault he’s like… a fraud genius,” she sighed. Sam looked at Dean’s beer and shook his head.
“Do you think he’s going to call you?” he asked. “At some point?”
“No,” Emily sighed. “I think the message he sent me was pretty clear.”
“And the hundred voicemails you left weren’t?” Emily turned towards Sam and frowned. “Hey, man- doesn’t matter how low you think you’re speaking, telepathy still works.”
“Will you ever consider not listening to Radio Emily all day?” Emily complained.
“Oh trust me, I wish I could,” Sam scoffed. “But unfortunately, you can’t tune me out all the time.” Emily rolled her eyes.
“I’ll go outside,” she said. “Please- tune to something else for a second.” Emily took her cigarette pack and walked outside. She sat behind the corner and took out a joint from it, throwing the cigarette away. She grabbed her phone and dialed Kevin’s number. As expected, it went to voicemail.
“Hey, it’s still me,” she said. “I know I- I left like a thousand messages, but…” She hesitated for a moment and brought the joint to her lips. “I just wanted to say sorry again and- if- if you get this, please- just… text me. I need to know you’re okay.” Emily sighed. “I know Dean scared you, so- if you want we-” Emily took a deep breath. I can’t believe I’m about to say this. “We don't need him, okay? He doesn't need to be involved.” She heard the door close and someone walking out. “Just… call me back, okay?”
“Benny?” said Dean's voice. “What did you do?” Emily didn't move, knowing if Dean realized she was hearing him, he'd have moved. “I’m sorry, you took on how many? Are you crazy?” Emily took one more puff of the weed and then threw it on the ground. “Okay- Text me the address, okay? I’ll be there as soon as I can.” Emily walked from behind the corner and next to Dean. He turned. “So, you spy on me now?”
“I was just having a smoke,” said Emily, waving the joint. Dean crossed his arms. “So, where are we going?”
“I have something to take care of,” said Dean. “You should stay, keep trying to look for Kevin.”
“Dean, we’re not going to find him until he wants us to,” she said. “Trust me.”
“You’re not coming with me,” said Dean. “It’s… it’s personal business.”
“Are you sure?” Emily touched Dean’s shoulder. “You- It sounded like this Benny was in trouble.”
“Okay, listen-” Dean looked behind Emily and in the motel. “I’m going to tell you something, but Sam can’t know, you hear me?” Emily nodded.
“Of course,” she said. “But I want to come with you.”
Emily waited in the car. The less chances they took with telepathy, the better. Dean walked back to the Impala and handed her her backpack and some clothes.
“So, what are we dealing with?” asked Emily. “Is Benny a hunter?”
“Not exactly,” Dean sighed. “But if I know him, it’s going to be vamp related.”
“Alright- I’m down to fuck up some vamps.” Emily smirked. “This buddy of yours, just a buddy, or…”
“What are you talking about?” Dean shook his head.
“Ouch-” She huffed. “So, not just a buddy? What is he, an ex boyfriend you never managed to get over? Secret lover? I can’t believe you’d do this to poor Cas.” Dean rolled his eyes.
“God, I'm regretting this already,” Dean sighed.
A few hours later, Dean still hadn’t said a word. “Dean, are you okay?” said Emily. He didn’t react. “Dean!” He finally turned towards her. Emily bit the inside of her cheek. “I’m sorry I brought up Cas, okay? It was just a joke.”
“What?” asked Dean, confused.
“That’s the reason you haven’t spoken to me in hours, right?” she asked. Dean huffed.
“No, I- Emily, I'm not giving you the silent treatment. I was just thinking.”
“Oh, okay,” she said, worried. “What are you thinking about?”
“There's something you need to know about Benny. But you gotta promise not to freak out.”
“Okay,” she frowned. “It's fine, I can be open minded.”
“Benny's a vamp.” Emily suppressed her surprise into a grimace.
“Ok…” she said. “Since when you're friends with a vampire?”
“I- He got me out of Purgatory,” Dean explained.
“Oh, okay.” She shrugged before getting back to her laptop. Dean turned.
“Wow. I know you'd have been on board, but I didn't expect you to just be okay with it,” he said.
“I mean-” Emily shrugged. “Do you trust him?” Dean nodded. “That's good enough for me.” Dean remained silent. “But you were right, about not wanting to tell Sam. He would have freaked the fucked out,” she said. “But on the other side, Sam fucked a demon. Doesn't get any weirder, right?”
“You fucked an angel,” said Dean. Emily frowned.
“I did not- I didn't fuck Ramiel, what are you talking about?”
“You didn't?!” Dean asked. “So- all that flirting and- he literally called you ‘love!”
“No, I- I- I was about to, but then he disappeared and I never saw him again!”
“Wait, really?!” Dean asked, pulling into a side road. Emily put away her laptop. She was about to answer, but he continued. “Wait-” he said, turning off the engine. “That's Benny's truck.”
Emily followed Dean down the stairs and to Benny, who was sitting against a wall, covered in blood.
“Benny?” called Dean before hurrying his pace towards him. “Well, looking good,” he said. Emily crouched next to the vampire.
“Damn, Dean- you brought me the family nurse?” asked Benny. Dean huffed. “She specializes in vamps or something?”
“Something like that,” Emily smiled. “Dean, give me a hand with the blood.” Dean crouched next to her and gave Benny a blood bag. Emily took a look at Benny's wounds. “What happened to you?” asked Emily.
“Just a minor inconvenience,” said Benny. Emily scoffed. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, I got fangs. I heal fast.” Dean, who was looking outside the boat, checking that no one was coming, turned around.
“Benny, do you mind?” he asked. Emily huffed, wrapping Benny’s arm in a piece of old clothing.
“Wow,” she said. “That’s twice in a row that you…” Emily trailed off and chuckled. “That you defended my honor or whatever.” Benny smirked.
“You know he couldn’t stop talking about you down there?” he said. Emily turned towards Dean, smirking.
“Oh, is that the case?” she said.
“Benny!” said Dean, raising his eyebrows. “What the hell, man?”
“I don’t have proof,” said the vampire in a whisper. “But I think you might be his favorite.” Emily shook her head and smiled.
“What?” asked Dean. Emily didn’t answer. “Benny, what did you tell her?”
“You’re all set,” said Emily, helping Benny stand back up. She handed him the cooler and he took a blood bag out of it. He opened it with his teeth and spat out the plastic before squeezing the blood in his mouth. “What flavor of Capri Sun is that?” asked Emily with a smile. Benny frowned and threw the empty blood bag in a corner.
“He doesn’t know what a Capri Sun is, Emily.” said Dean, rolling his eyes.
“I was killed in nineteen-sixty-three, sweetheart.”
“Benny-”
“Dean, come on,” said Emily with a smirk. “He’s old enough to be my grandfather. He can call me sweetheart.” Dean rolled his eyes. Benny snickered. “Alright, grandpa, will you be okay?” She picked up her backpack.
“Wait a second,” Dean walked past Emily. “What’s going on, Benny?”
“Oh, your work here is done, Dean,” said the vampire. “You and your sister already saved the day!” Benny walked past Dean and patted him on the shoulder. “You know I got my- uh- deal, and you…” he pointed at Emily and Dean. “Family business, right?”
“Benny,” said Dean. Benny remained silent and looked at Dean. “What’s going on?”
“You and that whole friend thing, man.” said Benny. “It’s good to know you’re still dumb as ever.” Emily smiled. Dean glared at her and shook his head.
“Well, some things never change,” said Dean. Benny sat down and opened another blood bag. “Now, why are you getting into machete fights with your own kind?” Benny looked away for a moment, then answered.
“Quentin, the one I came for,” he said. Dean nodded. Emily sat on the table, her legs getting tired. Nobody - except for Kevin - knew she was feeling less than good. It was manageable. She'd gotten used to the nausea. She just felt tired. Very easily. And very intensely. “We were in the same nest,” said Benny. “I’m hunting the vampire who turned me. My maker.” Dean raised his eyebrows.
“Well, I’m down with the hunting, but-” he sighed. “Why?”
“To kill him before he kills me,” said Benny. “Again.” Emily looked at Dean.
“Did you have anything to do this week?” he asked. Emily shrugged.
“Kevin’s missing anyway, so…” she said “We might as well take our sweet time, right?”
“You two don’t need to come with me,” said Benny. “It’s going to be dangerous.” Emily looked at Dean.
“Where do we start?” asked Emily. Benny walked to another room in the boat.
“Here,” he said, showing her a table full of what looked like trash. “We gotta find out where they’re headed next.” Emily went through the things on the table and picked up a notebook.
“Age of Aquarius Two,” she read. “Zero eight hundred, the Big Mermaid, Solitaire…” She turned the page. “Does this mean anything to you? Some sort of… vamp code?” Benny looked at her for a moment. “They’re all crossed out except one, The Lucky Myra.”
“Yachts,” said Benny. Emily frowned. “Names of yachts.” Benny took the notebook. “See? These are launch times.” he pointed to the numbers next to each name. “But I guarantee, none of these ever arrived at their destination.” Dean put down the piece of paper he was looking at. “Lucky Myrna, here-” Benny said. “Left yesterday, probably already been hit.”
“Hit?” asked Emily. She looked at Dean, biting the inside of her cheek and seeing if Dean was thinking the same thing she was thinking. “As in, boarded?” Benny nodded. “Buried at sea?” she asked. Dean frowned. “Like pirates?”
“We had a tight fleet,” said Benny. “Infiltrated the ports, found the right targets, radioed them to the crew on the water.”
“So, exactly like pirates?” said Dean. “Vampire pirates?”
“Vampirates,” said Emily, trying to hide a smirk. Dean rolled his eyes. “What? You were thinking it, too.”
“That’s a good name,” said Benny with a smirk. “Sweetheart.”
“Thanks, grandpa.” Emily looked at Dean, who put his hand on his waist and took a step back.
“I don’t like this,” he said. “You two-” he frowned. “I don’t like this at all.” Emily snickered and looked at Benny. He winked and took a step away from the table. Dean shook his head. “So, I got this receipt here,” he said. “Prentiss Island, name tells you anything?”
Emily slid in the passenger’s seat and threw her backpack in the back of the car.
“What are you doing?” asked Dean. Emily frowned. “Let Benny sit in the front!” Emily rolled her eyes and was about to climb over the seats, but Benny appeared in the window.
“Don’t be stupid, Dean,” he said. “You and I enjoyed each other enough in purgatory.” Dean closed his eyes and pinched his nose. “You sit in the front, sweetheart.” Emily smiled, satisfied, and kicked away her shoes. Dean shook his head and started the engine.
“So, Benny, I gotta ask,” said Emily. “Why did your maker kill you?” she asked. “I mean, aren’t nests like… a big, happy, blood-hungry family?”
“Let’s just say we had a divergence of opinions,” he said. “And I left the nest.”
“Okay,” Emily looked at Benny through the rearview mirror. “But why? I mean, if the lore is right,” she said. “and I mean, it might not be, but, still- isn’t the maker like some sort of God? Why would you piss him off?”
“What do you think, kid?” asked Benny. Emily shrugged. “Love.” Emily looked at Benny. “Her name was Andrea.”
“Sounds hot,” said Emily with a smirk.
“And she was, sweetheart, she was.” Benny sighed. “Greek. She was sailing a forty-two foot sloop to the Canary Islands.”
“Was it one of the targets?” asked Dean. Benny nodded.
“I was supposed to give out her coordinates and instead, I joined her,” he said. Emily smiled.
“Now, that’s paperback worthy,” she said. “You should write a book.”
“Let me ask you something, sweetheart,” Benny leaned in the middle of the seats. “Have you ever been in love?” Emily looked out the window for a moment and shrugged. “When Andrea entered my life, it changed. Everything I’d been, or done, up to that point,” he said. “It just seemed to vanish into what we had become together.” Emily crossed her arms. “Eventually…” continued Benny. “We settled in Louisiana. And then one night, we were coming home…” he sighed. “The Old Man, he was there. With Quentin and Sorento, my oldest mates.”
“Your brothers,” said Dean.
“It was only then that I understood what a crime it was to him,” Benny said. “For me to leave them.” Emily looked at Benny. “They pinned me down and beheaded me.”
“I’m sorry, man,” said Emily. “That’s rough.”
“You know, last thing I saw was The Old Man, ripping out Andrea’s throat.” said Benny. “But this is almost over. I’m gonna get payback.”
“That’s what it’s all about, right?” said Dean. Emily looked away.
Emily sneaked inside the house holding her machete. She followed Dean through the entrance and into a dark hallway.
“Where’s Benny?” she whispered. Dean looked back into the entrance, but immediately hid back behind the wall. He used his arm to press her to the wall and gestured to her to stay quiet. She heard someone getting punched and closed her eyes. Dean pointed to a room on their left and Emily slowly opened the door. She checked inside.
“Clear,” she whispered before entering the room. “Please tell me he didn’t-”
“He stopped,” said Dean. “They got him.”
“What do we do?”
“We clear the nest like we planned.”
“Dean-”
“We don’t have time to call for backup, okay?”
“I wasn’t gonna-” Dean pushed Emily to the side and beheaded a vampire that had walked in behind her.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “And it’s late.” Emily frowned. “I already texted Sam our twenty.”
“You what?” Emily hissed, pulling the dead vampire from her feet to move it from the door. “He’s gonna freak when he sees-”
“Yeah well, he’s gonna have to deal with it!” he said. Dean looked outside the room. “This way.” He started walking towards where Benny’s voice came from. They reached a staircase. Dean pointed at her to go check upstairs. Emily frowned.
“Alone?” she mouthed. Dean raised his eyebrows and pointed again. Emily tightened her grip around the machete and started walking upstairs. On top of the stairs was an empty room, two beheaded vampires laying in a pool of blood. Emily turned the bodies with her foot. Neither of them was Benny. Emily went through the room and appeared on top of the entrance. Benny was talking with a woman. She couldn’t hear what they were saying, but she saw the vampire touch the woman’s hair and sigh. Emily didn’t move and tried not to make any sound. That was Andrea. The woman took a step back and said something. Then, she showed her vampire teeth. Dean entered the room and beheaded her, too.
Emily walked out of the boat and helped both Dean and Benny on the dock. She shook her shoulder, trying to figure out if it was just sore or she needed ice. She walked to the Impala and found another car parked next to it. Leaning on it, Sam.
“Took you long enough,” she said. “Fun’s already over, sorry.”
“I can see that,” he answered. “You okay?”
“Ya,” Emily said. “Just tired as fuck, but you know- nothing new.” Just as she said that, the nausea intensified. She closed her eyes for a moment and then continued walking towards the car. She put down her bag and walked back towards Benny.
“Thanks for the assist, sweetheart,” he said. Emily nodded. “Hope you didn’t get too hurt.”
“Nothing a night’s sleep can’t handle, grandpa, don’t worry,” she said. Dean stopped and Sam walked next to her.
“Hey,” Benny said, holding his hand out to Sam. “I’m Benny.” Sam held it and Emily’s neck started to itch. She looked at Dean. Fuck.
What the hell is going on? said Sam’s voice.
Don’t try anything, Sam
“I heard a lot about you, Sam,” Benny continued. Sam didn’t answer and let go of his hand. Benny looked at Emily, then at Dean. “I can see you three have a lot to talk about,” he sighed. “See you around.”
Sam slammed the car door way harder than was needed and sat down with a sigh. Emily looked at Dean and kicked off her shoes. She looked at Benny’s truck disappearing behind a bend.
“What the hell, Dean?!” Sam asked.
“What?” he asked, starting the car. Emily sighed. “You mad we didn’t leave you anything to kill or something?”
“No, Dean- how about the fact that he’s a vampire?” Sam complained. Emily stayed silent, hoping to take a pass on the fight, but Sam had other plans. He turned around to look at her. “Did you know?” Emily didn’t answer.
“Sam, he’s the reason I’m topside and not roasting on a spit in Purgatory,” Dean said. Sam rolled his eyes. “Anything else?”
“Dude, I get it, I know what you had to do down there,” Sam said.
“I doubt that,” Dean said.
“Okay- but you’re back, and he’s still breathing, care to explain why?” Sam asked. He turned towards Emily.
“Don’t drag me into this,” she said. “I knew, I trusted Dean, that’s it.”
“He’s my friend, Sam, okay?” Dean complained. “And besides- I got a vampire friend and you went on a grippy sock vacation for a year while Emily risked her life, I take it we’re even.”
“I wasn’t on vacation!” Sam yelled. “And that’s hardly the same thing!”
“Okay,” Emily sighed. “Dean’s too nice to say it, so I will,” Dean looked at her in the rearview mirror.
“Emily,” he called.
“You ditched us and started the goddamn apocalypse for Ruby, now Dean’s got a vampire boyfriend, if anything, I still have a free pass to betray you in some weird way before we’re actually even.” Sam shook his head and Dean scowled at her.
“Right, of course,” Sam whispered. “I forgot you two never forget anything.”
“And I forgot you were a fucking hypocrite,” Emily whispered.
“Okay, how about you cut this out?” Dean said. “We’ve got a long way back to the Bunker.” Emily opened the window and took out a cigarette. “Do you mind?”
“Yes, I do mind,” Emily complained. “You don’t want me to smoke? Stop driving me fucking insane.”
“What the hell happened to you this year?” Sam asked. “When have you become such an asshole?”
“Kinda always been,” Dean whispered. Emily hit the back of his head. “Ow! I’m driving!”
“I’m the asshole now?” she asked. “Jesus Christ- do some fucking soul searching while we go back to Kansas, would you? Because if I’m an asshole you two are unqualifiable!”
“Un- un what?” Dean frowned. “Talk normal, would ya?”
“It means there isn’t a word to describe us,” Sam sighed.
“I know what it means!” Dean complained. “Just- tone it down a bit, okay Emily? We’re not the enemy.”
“Since when?” she asked, looking out the open window.
“Alright, I’m done,” Dean sighed. He reached for the radio and turned the music up.
“We got a case, you want to come?” asked Dean a week later, holding out his laptop.
“Nope,” Emily said without looking up from her own laptop.
“Dude, seriously? Still? You and Sam are gonna have to work together at some point,” Dean said, closing the laptop and putting it on the bunker table. He checked an empty beer bottle to see if there was something inside.
“That’s not what this is about, Dean,” Emily complained. “I need to find Kevin, okay? He could be anywhere and he could be in danger.”
“So what? If he needs help he can call you,” Dean said. “You’ve been here all week and you barely slept, you should take your mind off it.”
“Or, you could go without me and leave me alone,” she said. “I’m sure you and Sam have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Fine,” Dean sighed. “You know we’re gonna have to talk about this at some point, right?”
“What I know is I’m almost done with this program that will let me face-recognize Kevin from a bunch of security cameras, and you’re distracting me.”
While Sam and Dean were gone, Emily took a look around the Bunker. The program was done, it just had to run and maybe find Kevin. Or maybe she could go back there and add more cameras? It wasn’t like she was lacking the power, the Bunker somehow had a server able to run face-recognition software. How it was powered and who paid the bills was still a mystery. She’d picked a room to sleep in, but she still had to look around in the rest of the place. She opened a few doors. A cellar, a dungeon, nothing that surprised her, but then she opened a door and froze. With white, almost shiny bricks - or maybe she was just way too excited to see it -, three shiny beds in white linen and an entire wall covered in cabinets filled with supplies, it was a damn infirmary. Packed with supplies. Actually sterile, and actually functional. What she’d been dreaming to have ever since she’d started hunting. Emily put out the weed she was smoking by dragging it next to the entrance. She looked around. Dean must have not seen it, or he would have said something to her. She walked over to the cabinets. No meds, but it had a bunch of supplies that didn’t look like they’d been stolen from a vet care. Her phone rang.
“Hey,” she answered without looking at the name on the screen. “Did you know the Bunker has an infirmary?”
“Uh- No,” Dean’s voice said. “Am I interrupting an intimate moment between you and a bottle of disinfectant?” Emily rolled her eyes.
“No,” she sighed. “What’s going on?”
“So, uh- how do I put this,” he stuttered. “Cas is back.” Emily’s interest in the cabinet dropped.
“What?” she asked. “W- How?!”
“We don’t know yet, but,” Dean cleared his voice. “Actually, that’s not what I wanted to tell you.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Emily asked. “You think he’s done something stupid?”
“I mean,” Dean sighed. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”
“Yeah, well-” Emily walked back to the library. “You wanted to tell me something? You need research?” She sat down at the table and opened her laptop back up.
“Uh, no- just- Don’t freak out, but I think we know where Kevin is,” Dean said. Emily looked up from the laptop.
“What did you say?” she asked.
“I said- we found Kevin,” Dean repeated. “I’ll-”
“Dude, why not lead with that?!” she asked, shoving the laptop in her backpack and rushing to her room. “Where?”
“I’m gonna text you the coordinates,” Dean said. “Hurry it up, okay? It’s Crowley.”
“And you let me ask about the infirmary?” Emily asked, already marching towards the garage. “Okay, riddle me this, which car is the fastest in this damn garage?”
“Ford Thunderbird,” Dean said. Emily stopped and looked around. “The green one,” he explained.
“Thank you,” Emily said. She opened the door and the keys were already in. “Text me the coordinates.” She looked down and saw an address in Iowa. “Alright, see you in two hours.”
“Two- Emily, you can’t make the drive in two hours!” Dean complained.
“Don’t challenge me, Dean, you know I drive like a maniac.”
Emily arrived at the location Dean had texted her before he and Sam did. She opened her bag and started looking through her supplies to find a knife and some holy water. Dean parked behind her just as she was dipping her knife. He walked to her.
“You weren’t going in alone, were you?” He asked, dropping his bag next to hers.
“Yeah, if you had kept me waiting,” she said. “But you’re here, so-” she sighed. “What we got?”
“Crowley couldn’t find Kevin, so he took all future prophets as ‘insurance’ to try and translate the tablet,” he explained. “We already brought his mother somewhere safe, we should be clear to go in.”
“Alright,” Emily took a deep breath. “How you wanna play this?” Sam arrived behind Dean.
“You tell me, kid, Kevin’s your gig,” Dean said. Emily put her hands on her waist. “I mean it, it’s time you start taking the lead, you’re old enough.”
“What do you think I’ve been doing all year, asking the internet?” she asked, rolling her eyes. “Alright, Sam will clear the way, you cover me.”
“I can be of help,” said Cas’ voice. Sam moved over and made way for the angel. “As part of heaven’s army, my job is to keep prophets safe, so I can sense how close Kevin is.”
“Hey Cas,” Emily smiled. The angel nodded. “You’re gonna be with me. You guys got any spares of that blade Meg had?”
“Yup,” Dean reached into his bag and handed her an angel blade. “Sounds good, let’s go.”
Emily let Sam walk into the warehouse and kill the first two demons, they all moved on to the next guarding point, but a demon appeared behind her. She moved her hand and tried to use her powers to fling the demon back, but she just managed to make him take a few steps back. She tried again, the demon marching towards her. Castiel walked in front of her and put a hand on the demon’s face. It stopped, yellow light coming out of his eyes and mouth, and dropped to the floor. The angel took a step back and bumped into Emily, who helped him keep standing. Before she could make sure Castiel was safe, her stomach turned on itself, and she turned away to vomit. Dean looked at her, face painted with worry, as she cleaned her face. She ignored him and kept walking. She caught up with Sam and passed him, the acid taste of vomit still in her throat and her guts getting ready to make her hurl more. Castiel followed her closely.
“Here,” Castiel said, stopping in front of a wall. Emily tried to open it, but it appeared to be locked. She put a hand in her pocket and took out her picking kit. Dean and Sam caught up and looked at her for a few seconds.
“You want me to try?” Sam asked. Emily groaned, frustrated, then took a step back.
“Move,” she said, taking out her gun. Dean tried to stop her.
“Woah, wait-
“I’m going in,” said Castiel.
“N-” was all Dean could try to say before the angel disappeared. Emily looked at him.
“Now will you let me shoot at the lock?” she asked. Dean moved a few steps away as Emily aimed at the door. A bright light came from inside the room. She shot the lock off and kicked the door.
“I see the whole gang is here,” Crowley said. The table next to him was shattered, and the tablet had fallen to the floor and broke in half. He had both halves in his hands. Emily had one shot at getting at least one of them back, and her powers had to work that time. She could not fumble it. She focused on Crowley’s hand and one half of the tablet flew half across the room before falling to the ground and breaking again. By the time that had happened, Crowley was already gone, and so was Castiel. Emily hesitated, feeling another wave of vomit, and turned back out the room, where Dean was still standing. She pushed him away and vomited on the ground.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked. Emily looked at him and didn’t answer. She once again cleaned her face, then went back inside the room to look for Kevin. She found him flattened against a wall, just inside. Her mind was driving on a coffee and just adrenaline, so she didn’t think twice before hugging him. He hesitated.
“O-okay,” he said. “Good to see you, too, I guess.”
“Other victims are handed to the police, we got like- ten minutes before they start asking questions,” Sam said, walking back towards Emily. She was leaning on her car, smoking a cigarette. “You did good by the way.”
“This wasn’t my first rodeo, Sam,” she sighed. “You were gone, I had to keep fighting the fight, right?”
“Right,” Sam sighed and put his hands in his pockets. “So, uh- Kevin’s missing a finger, but Cas can make it grow it back, or so he says.”
“Good,” Emily said.
“Emily, you know I’m gonna ask, so just- tell me, because Dean’s already gone down the pregnancy path.”
“Jesus Christ,” Emily huffed. “I’m not pregnant, dude,” she said, hoping the conversation would end there.
“Okay, then what’s going on with you?” Emily opened her mouth, ready to make up a lie, but he stopped her. “And don’t try telling me you got the stomach bug.”
“Damn it,” she sighed. “Okay, it’s- it’s the trials, I think they’re doing something to me.”
“Like what?” Sam asked.
“Like- I don’t know, I guess I haven’t been feeling well, just- generally, I have- i have less energy and- and I can’t sleep and my powers don’t work as well as they used to.”
“You should talk to Cas, maybe he can help,” Sam said.
“No, I can’t,” Castiel said, appearing next to her. She flinched. “Sorry.”
“What do you mean you can’t?!” Sam asked, confused. “You-”
“The damage the trials do, there’s no healing them,” the angel explained. “And it’s gonna get worse with time.”
“Yeah, I figured that part out myself,” Emily said, stretching her shoulder, which kept hurting. “Do I just pop a bunch of vicodins and start limping then?” Castiel frowned and tilted his head. “It’s House, dude, you- you really do need to watch some TV sometimes.” She finished the cigarette and threw it on the floor.
“The Prophet’s finger is fine,” Castiel said. “I think he wishes to talk with you.”
“Did he say that?” Emily asked. “Or did Dean say that I need to go talk to him?”
“Dean…” Castiel sighed. “He said Kevin was looking at you and that you were… quite aggressive about helping him.”
“Just say it, Cas,” Emily sighed. “I know he sprayed that bullshit on you.”
“Okay,” Castiel put his hands on his waist. “He said you’re wildly in love.”
“Yup, there it is,” Emily groaned. “Jesus Christ, I need a drink.” Emily pushed away from the car and walked towards Kevin.
“Hey,” she said, approaching him. Dean, who’d been cleaning a cut on Kevin’s face, was very quick to mumble something and disappear, leaving all the supplies on top of the Impala. “I swear to God…” she sighed, looking at him smirking as he left. Kevin looked around, confused. Emily sighed and grabbed the supplies.
“What- Where did he go?”
“Ignore him, he’s an idiot,” Emily said, dragging some cotton on Kevin's forehead. “Are you okay?”
“I got all ten fingers,” he shrugged. “Thanks for the save, by the way.”
“It’s my job,” Emily said.
“Or…” Kevin rolled his eyes. “You could just say ‘you’re welcome’.”
“You’re welcome, asshole,” she huffed. She reached on top of the car to grab a stitch.
“Alright,” Kevin sighed and rolled his eyes.
“Still kinda mad at you,” Emily said, placing the stitch on his forehead. “Would it have killed you to text me once these past two months?”
“I- I ditched my phone,” Kevin said. “I didn’t have your number.”
“Oh,” said Emily, letting Kevin’s arm go. “So you- you never got my messages?”
“You left messages?” Kevin crossed his arms. Emily nodded. “Yeah, no- I'm- I didn't get them. What-”
“What would have happened if you needed help?” Emily asked. “Oh right, it happened, and you almost died!”
“Hey, I can take care of myself,” Kevin said, moving away from Emily. “We were doing fine!”
“Yeah, until you got involved with a witch, which I could have told you was a bad idea!” Emily complained. Kevin rolled his eyes and leaned back on the car. Emily grabbed more cotton and soaked it in alcohol.
“My mom found her on Craigslist,” Kevin explained. Emily stopped to look at him. “I know, I know, just- I thought you were a nightmare to be stuck with, but at least you knew what you were doing.” Emily huffed. “Why didn’t Cas heal those, too?” he asked, pointing at his forehead. Emily stopped and looked at him again. That was a good question. Why didn’t he? Either Cas didn’t have enough juice left, or…
“Jesus fucking Christ,” she whispered. Dean looked at her from the other side of the lot and smirked. “What an asshole.”
“What’s going on?” Kevin asked, confused. “He’s been weird ever since we got out here.”
“I told you, he’s an idiot,” Emily said. Kevin crossed his arms.
“Come on, tell me,” he complained. Emily took a deep breath.
“I didn’t tell him about how the trials were making me feel and he thinks I’m pregnant,” she whispered. Kevin frowned.
“H-how?” he asked. Emily looked at him and raised her eyebrows. “Oh, he thinks I did it?” Emily nodded. “But we- we-”
“Trust me, I know,” Emily sighed. “He’s just an idiot like that, he’s gonna get over it.” Kevin didn’t say anything until Emily had finished stitching up all the cuts on his face. Sam rushed back towards them.
“Okay, time’s up,” he said, pointing to the policemen a few steps away. “Time to go.”
Congratulations
from the Hamilton Mixtape
Emily walked inside of Garth’s boat and knocked on the metal door.
“Kevin, it’s me,” she called. Kevin opened the door. Before he could say anything, Emily grabbed the holy water and drank it. “Not a demon,” she sighed. “As always.”
“For now,” Kevin whispered, going back to sit at the table. Emily pretended not to hear him. “I think I almost got it, I can make it in a couple of days.”
“What about we make it three?” Emily answered, taking out a piece of food that was stuck to Kevin's hair. “And you use the extra time to, I don’t know- shower, eat and sleep?”
“No can do,” said Kevin, looking at the tablet. “I don’t have time for that.” Emily crouched in front of the fridge.
“Well, I brought you food,” she said, taking out of the fridge a pack of hotdogs that had an inch of mold on them. “In case you wanna eat it.” Kevin put his headphones back on and the music started again. Emily stood up. “I’m talking to you, advanced placement,” she called. He didn’t answer. “Seriously?” Emily snapped his finger next to his ear, but he didn’t react. She heard the music faintly go through the headphones. She rolled her eyes and walked to the other side of the boat, frustrated. Emily stopped to listen to the songs. Grease. Kevin was listening to Grease. Of all the musicals she’d forced him to watch, he really had to get out and like the worse one. She rolled her eyes and made her way around the room, gathering dirty clothes and dishes. She kicked something on the floor and looked down. Empty bottle of aspirins. She looked back at Kevin and walked to the cabinet. He couldn’t be that stupid to take the entire bottle in a week, could he? She opened the cabinet and there was no other aspirin bottle. Which meant yes, he was that stupid. She walked back to Kevin and disconnected his headphones. He turned.
“Hey!” he said. “I’m trying to work here!” Emily showed him the empty bottle. He rolled his eyes. “Oh come on, what are you, my mother? I had a headache, I had to take something,” Kevin complained, trying to put his headphones back on. Emily stopped him.
“Or you could have taken a nap,” said Emily. “That’s how your head will stop hurting.”
“Yeah well, I can’t sleep,” Kevin said. Emily crossed her arms.
“Okay fine, just- die then, what do I have to tell you?!” she said, letting go of the headphones. Kevin looked at her, scoffed, and reconnected his headphones. Frustrated, Emily ripped the headphones off Kevin’s head and threw them across the room.
“What the hell?!” Kevin yelled, looking at the plastic shatter on the floor.
“Is that the plan?” she asked. “Just… die for this?”
“Isn’t it your plan?” Kevin asked, standing up and walking around the table.
“Yeah- but I’m not doing it myself,” she said.
“That’s right, you’re making me do it,” Kevin sighed. “You know, nobody forced you to to the trials, you chose to do them knowing full well-”
“Okay? That doesn’t mean-”
“How the fuck is it any different?” Kevin asked. “Am I supposed to take a walk? Enjoy the beach? Oh wait, I can’t!” Emily scoffed and rolled her eyes, moving a chair to walk towards Kevin.
“Or, you could just- I don’t know, sleep for an hour! That will make it easier to translate the damn thing!”
“Oh my god!” Kevin yelled. “Why don’t you listen to me?! I just told you-”
“You didn’t even try, okay? You just sit there all day, all night, it’s not like you’re trying to sleep, you just don’t want to!”
“I just told you-”
“You- sometimes it feels like you don’t want to finish the damn thing and go home, because you keep doing everything possible to slow it down!”
“What if I don’t?” Kevin asked. “What if I don’t want to kill you? Would it be that weird to you?” Emily stopped talking and rolled her eyes. She looked at him, trying to settle down the blood boiling in her veins.
“I don’t care if you want to do this or now, you don’t get to decide what I do with my life!” she yelled.
“And you get to decide what I do with mine?”
“No, but since my job is to look after you, I kinda have to keep you alive!”
“That’s not your job!” Kevin complained. “You’re just here so you can fix whatever you did when you were a kid, that’s it, none of this is about me!”
“Oh, sure!” Emily said. “Kevin, all of this is about you!” she yelled. Kevin rolled his eyes. “Crowley’s looking for you, all the angels are looking for you, like it or not, this is about you!”
“Why can’t you just admit you just need me for this one thing and then you couldn’t care less if I live or die?” Emily looked at him and scoffed.
“And here I was, thinking we were doing something together!” Emily said. “I guess not, I guess I’m just- I don’t know a prison guard to you!”
“I don’t need you to protect me, okay? I can take care of myself!”
“Oh, can you?” she asked. “If that’s the case, take me down.” Kevin looked at her. He seemed fully convinced he could do that. He grabbed a pan from the kitchen and tried to swing it at her, but she grabbed his wrist, twisted it until he dropped the pan, which she kicked away. It clanged on the hollow metal walls, next to the headphones. “Be grateful I didn’t use it on you,” she said. “That’d have put you to sleep very fast.”
“Okay, you know what?” Kevin said, massaging his wrist. “Go home.” Emily crossed her arms and remained silent, challenging him. “I’m serious, I don’t want you here! I don’t want anybody here!” Kevin walked to the kitchen and put both hands on the counter. He pulled up the wrist she’d just twisted and flexed it a couple of times. Emily turned away to grab a cigarette off the table behind her, and a plate smashed on the wall a few inches from her face. “I said leave!” Kevin yelled. The plate was followed by a glass, which was when Emily walked towards him to stop him. Or murder him, she still hadn’t decided. Having run out of stuff to throw, Kevin started walking towards her, too. What he didn’t know, and Emily did, in fact, know, was that moving from the kitchen put him in the perfect spot for Emily to stop him. The moment they met in the middle of the boat, where the table was, Emily grabbed him and locked his arms behind you. Her phone vibrated in her pocket, but she ignored it as Kevin tried to set himself free, but only managed to get slammed on the table face first.
“Are you going to calm down or what?!” Emily asked.
“Let me go!” Kevin complained, a hint of blood coming out of his nose.
“Nope,” she said, lifting him off the table to save some notes from the inevitable nosebleed. “Not until you calm the f-train down.” Her phone started vibrating again, so she used one hand to answer it.
“Kinda in the middle of something, Dean,” she sighed, holding Kevin down.
“Did you finally give in to having sex with Kevin?” he asked. Emily rolled her eyes. Kevin scoffed, too.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“Not a no, uh?” Dean gloated. Emily remained silent, waiting for an answer. “Fine, I got news,” he sighed. “Do you want the short version or the long version?” Kevin fought back and almost set himself free.
“The short one!” she complained, putting her phone between her ear and shoulder to use both hands to hold Kevin. “Jesus, Dean, I told you I have a situation going on!”
“Okay, so- Cas has been mind controlled by angels, we found a new tablet for the kid to translate, but Cas took it and disappeared.” Emily stopped fighting Kevin back for a moment and he pushed her away.
“Jesus- give me a second,” Emily said. She threw her phone on the table and stopped Kevin, who was trying to punch her. She grabbed his arms again and blocked him against the wall instead.
“I thought you’d learn after the first time I did it to you,” Emily hissed.
“Get off me,” Kevin said. Emily sighed. “I’m serious, Emily, let me go and get out.”
“What exactly is your problem?” Emily asked. “You think I’m an asshole? You don’t do my job by being nice, so deal with it and stop acting looney-fucking-tunes.” Kevin scoffed. “And also- no I’m not an asshole! I clean the damn place for you, I bring you food and I’d also keep you company if you looked up from the damn thing once a week!” she said. “So here’s what’s going to happen now. You’re going to calm the fuck down and you’re going to watch the fucking movie I brought because I swear to God I’m so fed up with you I could let you drown in fucking ocean.” Kevin stopped moving.
“You’re not scary, you know that?” Kevin hissed. Emily rolled her eyes and pushed him harder into the wall, blood smearing on it.
“Jesus Christ-” she sighed. “Are you done or what?” Kevin didn’t answer, but he also didn’t try to set himself free. “Good,” she said, extending her arm out to grab her phone. “Okay, I’m back,” she said to Dean.
“What the hell is going on there?” asked Dean. “Need some backup?”
“No,” she answered. “Everything’s fine.”
“You didn’t kill Kevin, did you?”
“No but I might do it if he keeps this up,” said Emily. Kevin huffed, cheek still stuck against the wall. Emily let go of him and pushed him to the other side of the room. “You were saying- Cas disappeared?”
“Yup,” Dean sighed. “Took the angel tablet and hopped on a bus I suppose.”
“Is he… still mind controlled?” she asked. She heard Dean take a deep breath on the other side of the call. She looked around to see where Kevin was. He was standing still staring at the kitchen.
“No, I-” Dean hesitated. “Wait, give me a sec.” Emily heard Dean walk up the Bunker’s metal stairs, then the door slamming shut. “Look, I’m gonna tell you, but you can’t tell Sam, okay? Like- ever.”
“...okay?” Emily frowned and grabbed a joint off her cigarette pack. She walked out of the boat and sat on the ladder that brought back inside. “What the hell is going on?”
“So, when we were in there, he… he tried to kill me, he was- you know- he was following orders,” Dean explained. Emily took a puff and sighed.
“I take it he didn’t, so- what happened?”
“I broke the connection, but- uh- I had to- you know-” Dean trailed off. Emily frowned, getting an intuition.
“You didn’t,” she said, joint frozen an inch from her lips. “Did you?”
“I… I think I did,” Dean said.
“Jesus fucking Christ, I knew it,” she sighed. “And you told him? Like- plain and clear?”
“Yup. Just told the dude I love him,” Dean muttered. “And that- that worked, so.”
“What did you tell Sam?” she asked, confused. The answer from the other side of the phone of a frustrated groan. “What did Cas say?” she asked.
“Nothing, what was he supposed to say? Goddamnit, I’m so screwed.”
“He said nothing?!” Emily asked.
“I mean, he said he needed to protect the tablet, healed me and then he was gone,” Dean sighed. “But, you know- it’s it’s fine. What’s going on with the kid?”
“I’m pretty sure he’s losing his mind,” Emily sighed. “But I’m gonna find a way to- I don’t know- fix this without killing him.”
“Sounds like you should give the sex idea a try,” Dean said. Emily kept smoking her joint and huffed. “Just kidding, but from what I heard you got it rough down there.”
“Yup,” she sighed. “I- I’ll be back tomorrow, okay? Just- give me a call if something comes up.” Emily walked back inside the boat, joint still lit, to find Kevin still staring at the kitchen. “Dude,” she sighed. He turned. “What are you doing?”
“I- uh- I was going to bed and then I started thinking,” Kevin answered, looking at her in confusion.
“About what?”
“Not sure,” he said. He walked to the bed and threw himself on it. By the time Emily had gotten the broom from the corner, he was already snoring.
Kevin woke up four hours of nightmares and cold sweating later. His face was covered in blood and he had a huge purple bruise where he’d landed on the table. Emily felt bad, there was no going around it. He was acting crazy, but she acted like Dean would and that was way worse. She’d been sitting at the table, tablet and notes pushed to the side, looking for any camera footage that showed Castiel.
“You okay, Rapunzel?” she asked as Kevin sat up on the mattress. He dragged a hand through his face and flinched, in pain. “Yeah, that’s gotta hurt.”
“When did you get here?” he asked, confused. “And what the hell happened to my face?” Emily frowned.
“Dude. I got here hours ago,” she said. “You don’t remember?” Kevin squeezed his eyes shut.
“Oh,” he said. “Yeah- wait…” he looked at her. “Yeah, yeah. I remember.”
“Still want to throw stuff at me?” Emily asked with a smirk. Kevin rolled his eyes.
“Kinda,” Kevin said, standing up. “Not as much.” He walked to the kitchen and turned on the coffee machine. “Did I… did I try to hit you with a pan?”
“Sure did,” Emily sighed. Kevin waited by the coffee pot staring in front of him.
“Fuck, I’m so tired,” he said. “And my head’s killing me.” He opened the cabinet and groaned. “Where the hell’s the aspirin?”
“I don’t know, you tell me,” Emily asked. “You downed them all while I was away.” Kevin took a deep breath. “Are you sure you don’t want to come back to the Bunker? It’s huge, I’m sure we can find you a quiet place to work.”
“No, Emily-” Kevin sighed. “The angels said I needed to go to the desert,” he said. “This is as desert as it gets.”
“Okay,” Emily sighed. “And I’m going to guess as soon as I’m gone you’ll be back to not sleeping and popping aspirins like it’s candy?” Kevin looked away. “Just as I thought.” Emily walked to her bag. “Kevin, I’m not your mother and I’m no place to tell you about how your body's a temple and all that weird shit, but you're not doing yourself any good by living like a fucking animal.” Kevin didn't answer. Emily sighed. “Okay, before you get back to work you gotta eat something,” she pulled a chair closer to the table. Kevin took the cup of coffee and rolled his eyes. “Don’t give me that, okay? A couple of hours of Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire are not going to make any difference in the long run.”
“I really don’t feel like watching Harry Potter now,” Kevin complained while Emily stood up and opened the minifridge. She didn’t answer, she just took a pan, the same Kevin had tried to use on her earlier, and put some hotdogs on it. She turned on the stove and reached back on the laptop to start the movie. A few minutes later, Emily threw the hotdogs on a plastic plate and placed it in front of Kevin. He took half the movie to eat maybe a quarter of one hotdog, and just pushed it around with a fork the rest of the time. He stared at the screen with an increasingly uncomfortable expression.
“You okay?” Emily asked, pausing the movie. Kevin simply nodded but didn’t speak. A couple of seconds later, Kevin rushed to the bathroom. Emily tried to follow him just to see him fall to the ground and vomit what he had just eaten.
“Jesus-,” she whispered. Emily tried to help him to the bathroom again but he pushed her hand away. Emily clenched her fists, trying not to think of drowning him in the ocean as a viable alternative. Kevin vomited again and she took a deep breath, dragging a hand through her face. “Okay, tough guy, I’m sick of you,” she said. She forced him off the floor, stopping his arms from trying to set himself free. He vomited again, covering her arms in half-digested food. Emily held her breath and dragged Kevin to the bathroom. She unceremoniously threw Kevin next to the toilet. “Keep being perfectly fine in here, okay?” Emily gave Kevin one last glance before going back to the only other room in the boat. She opened the kitchen tap and cleaned herself the best she could. “You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?!” she said before turning. Kevin didn’t answer and instead vomited again. Please let it be in the toilet. She thought. She placed her hands on the table, her head dangling in the middle of her shoulders. She looked around: she had to clean up fast before the whole place started smelling. She used an old, already smelly mop, and then threw it out the door and into the stairs when she was done. She took a deep breath, trying to summon her kind, understanding side, and walked to the bathroom.
“Are you okay?” she asked, sitting next to Kevin. He scowled at her while leaning on the toilet. She silently handed him the toilet paper roll. He nodded and moved away from the toilet, leaning on the wall. She reached into a drawer and grabbed a first aid kit. She punched the dry ice and placed it on his nose, which had started to bleed again. “Sorry, I think I might have broken it,” she sighed.
“Kinda had it coming,” Kevin whispered, taking the ice. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I- I was acting kinda crazy, but to be fair, you can be a real bitch sometimes.”
“Oh, I know,” Emily huffed. “But see, how you did two out of the three things I wanted you to do.” Kevin frowned. “You slept and you ate.”
“I’m definitely going to take a shower now,” Kevin sighed. Emily smiled.
“Alright, I’m gonna get out then,” she sighed, standing up. “Last thing I need is Dean having more excuses to think we’re having sex.”
“He really is an idiot, isn’t he?” Kevin huffed. Emily nodded and left the room. When he walked out of the bathroom, he almost really looked fine. Sure, half his face was swollen, but at least he didn’t have leftover doritos in his hair and coffee stains on his t-shirt anymore.
“Can I work on the tablet for a while or will you yell at me?” he asked, sitting down at the tablet. Emily sighed, but nodded. She fell asleep waiting for Kevin to stop staring at the tablet. When she opened her eyes, it was to the thump of his head on the table as he fell asleep. He woke back up just as fast as he had fallen asleep and used a hand to prop his head up.
“Kevin, just come to sleep,” she groaned, opening only one eye.
“It’s fine, I almost got this part done,” Kevin said.
“Fine,” she sighed and went back to sleep.
“So, did he sleep in the end?” asked Dean, plating a hamburger in the Bunker’s kitchen. Emily threw her backpack on the floor and sat down with a beer already in her hand.
“He got like four hours in,” she sighed. “But dude, he's having a nervous breakdown, he’s seriously out of it.” She moved some fries on the plate with her fingers and took a sip of beer.
“Dude, Kevin is an adult, okay?” said Dean. “You’re doing everything you need to be doing, so- just eat the damn burger.” Emily rolled her eyes and ate a fry.
“I need to find some way to help him, okay? Or to- I don’t know, make him understand he doesn’t need to act like this.”
“Unless you just turned into a prophet, too, you can’t help him any other way,” said Dean. “Now eat and go to sleep.” Emily rolled her eyes. Just as Dean was about to sit down and eat, too, his phone started ringing. “It’s Kevin,” he said, frowning. Emily took her phone out of her bag and realized it had run out of battery. He answered and after a second, he closed the communication, looking alarmed.
“What?” said Emily.
“I don’t know, he just said to come quick.” Emily stood up and grabbed her stuff off the floor.
“Wait, how-” Sam looked down at his phone. “It’s been four, how- how fast were you driving?” he asked. Emily looked at Dean and smirked. “We’re on the border with Mexico, it’s four hundred miles from home!”
“You sound like Bobby on my first driving lesson,” said Emily, looking for the boat’s keys in her backpack as she walked towards the pier. “You were going too fast, that's dangerous, blah blah blah- did I get you here alive?”
“Bobby gave you driving lessons?” asked Dean.
“Of course, how do you think I learned to drive?” she stepped onto the boat. “It surely wasn’t grandma Sam, was it?”
“That checks out,” Sam sighed, but Emily shushed him and pushed the door open.
“Kevin?” she called, entering the boat. “Kevin!” As nobody answered, she made her way through the room and opened the door that hid the bed, holding her gun up. Nobody. Fearing the worst, she made her way to the bathroom door. Kevin was there, vomiting. Again. Emily looked away, disgusted. “Found him,” she called, looking across the boat to Sam and Dean. “Jesus Christ-” she exhaled. “Is everything okay?” Kevin lifted his head from the toilet and leaned on the wall behind him, half a smile painted on his face.
“No need to call me Jesus,” he smirked. Emily rolled her eyes.
“Okay, prophet of my ass, what the hell happened to you?” she asked, pulling off the paper towel Kevin had stuffed in his nose to stop it from bleeding. “I was only away for a day!”
“Yeah, that meant a whole day of peace and silence,” he said. Emily scoffed. “Which I used to translate the second trial.” Emily turned to see Sam and Dean standing in the bathroom doorway. “I told you I just needed a day.”
“Yeah and I told you-” Kevin ignored her and stood back up. He stumbled past Sam and Dean. “Kevin, you have to slow down, okay?” she said. “You can barely walk.”
“Oh, sorry mom, I didn’t see you there!” said Kevin. Emily frowned, confused, and looked behind her. “I was right and you were wrong, I needed a day!” he said. “I could have gotten it yesterday if you didn’t insist on putting me to sleep!” Emily scoffed. She looked back at Dean and Sam, then at Kevin.
“You’re seriously an asshole, you know that?” she asked, flushing the toilet.
“Yeah, well- this asshole just got you the recipe to save the world,” he slammed a piece of paper on the table. “So I’m afraid this asshole is useful!”
“You know what would be useful? If y-”
“Okay, okay-” said Dean. “How about you both take a deep breath?” Emily rolled her eyes and took the piece of paper. It was, as usual, illegible.
“What is this gibberish?” she asked, waving the piece of paper. Kevin was about to answer but Sam gestured at him to wait and took the notes.
“An innocent soul has to be rescued from Hell and delivered unto Heaven.” he read.
“Unto?” Emily repeated. “It’s into, right?”
“No, genius,” said Kevin. “It’s ‘unto’ heaven. That’s how God talks.”
“Oh, sorry, I didn’t take AP word of god in high school!” Emily complained. Dean rolled his eyes and brushed his face with his hand, badly covering a smirk. Emily pushed his shoulder.
“Sorry, sorry-” he took a deep breath and looked at Sam, who seemed amused, too. “So, does it say anything at all about- you know- the spell?” Kevin gave him another piece of paper. Dean looked at it, frowned, and then gave it to Sam. He sighed and took it, nodding towards Kevin.
“Alright, kids, we're going on a supply run,” said Dean. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but this place needs some actual cleaning supplies.” Emily crossed her arms. “Are you good staying here by yourselves?” Kevin nodded, distracted by the tablet. “Try not to- uh… kill each other while we’re away.” He looked at Emily and suggestively winked as he closed the door. Emily rolled her eyes.
“Is this how this is going to be from now on?” she asked, turning back towards Kevin. “I try to keep you alive and you make me look like the bad guy, scream at me, call me names and throw stuff?” Kevin put down the pencil and tipped back the chair, frustrated. Emily pushed the chair back on four feet. Kevin looked at her and sighed.
“No,” he said. “it’s just being here all alone sucks.”
“You’re the one who said you had to be in the desert,” said Emily. Kevin dragged his hand across his face.
“That’s because if I’m not in the desert I can’t focus for long enough,” he answered. “I just- I just wish the desert wasn’t so damn lonely, that’s all.” He shook his head and picked the pencil back up. He slid the tablet from across the table and stared at it, the pencil tapping on his temple. Emily leaned on the kitchen, in silence. “You’re going to leave me here, aren’t you?” he asked. “You’re not going to let me come with you for the second trial.”
“Kevin-” Emily sighed.
“No, no, I get it. I almost fucked it up last time. Made a fool of myself and all that.” Emily frowned.
“None of that happened,” she said. “Look, it’s not that I don’t want you there, okay? But it’s hell we’re talking about. Every single demon in there is looking to put his hands on you to get on Crowley’s right side.”
“I’m sorry, are we going down there with a megaphone? Announce our arrival?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. Emily scoffed. Kevin looked away. “Sorry,” he said. Emily crossed her arms. “I- I- just want to help, okay?”
“I know,” she sighed. “But it’s too dangerous. What if something happens to you?”
“Again with this- stop acting like you’re my mother or something, okay?” Kevin stood up. “I can take care of myself!”
“Can you? Look around, Kevin! Look at yourself! This doesn't look like someone who can take care of himself!” yelled Emily. Kevin scoffed, shook his head and sat back up. He didn’t answer. “You know what?” she said, picking up her backpack. Kevin’s eyes widened. “I think I’ll go with Sam and Dean on the supply run.” She walked to the door, opened it and then slammed it behind her. She stopped and took a deep breath. She saw the Impala still parked a few yards away from the boat. She took a step forward but flinched, a loud thump coming from the inside of the boat. It sounded like Kevin had thrown something at the hollow walls. Fuck.
Emily walked out of the boat and lit up a cigarette. She waved at Dean to wait and jogged to the Impala.
“Already done?” asked Dean with a smirk. Emily didn’t answer. “I hope you used a rubber, it’s not s-”
“Dean,” said Sam, pushing his shoulder. He looked at Emily from the rearview mirror. The car started. Emily sighed and looked away. She kicked away her shoes and crossed her legs on the seat.
“What’s going on, kid?” asked Sam. Emily shook her head.
“Nothing, it’s fine,” she sighed. “I tried to talk to him but he’s like- insufferable and- and- this mood swings or whatever it is, one second he’s asking me to come with me on the second trial, and then he’s yelling at me because I don’t want him to die!”
“Welcome to our life,” said Dean with a smirk. “You think you were any different four years ago?” Emily frowned. “One time, you tried to pick a fight over the words ‘are you okay’.” He looked at her through the rearview mirror.
“Okay, so what? I’m sure I had my reasons.” said Emily.
“You don’t think Kevin’s got enough reasons?” asked Dean. “His mother’s dead, he’s stuck into a boat on the border with Mexico, he’s God’s chosen one and the girl he likes keeps behaving like he’s a kid, which I am sure doesn’t help.” Emily rolled her eyes. “I’m sorry, I know you don’t want to hear it, but that’s just the truth!”
“So, you- you know,” said Sam. “About Kevin.”
“Of course I know,” Emily took a deep breath. “Can we talk about something else?” she asked. “Please?”
“I totally caught him checking out your ass,” said Dean. Emily shook her head.
“You mean my non-existent, one hundred percent flat ass?” she asked. Dean nodded. “So, you caught him looking at my back?”
“That’s- that’s not what I meant,” said Sam, scowling at Dean. Emily looked at him. “I meant-”
“Sam, I swear to god,” Emily groaned and fell deeper into the seat.
“Emily, I’m just wondering if spending all that time together-”
“Trust me, if anything- we’re spending too much time together.” she said. “It’s probably why we can’t stand each other anymore.” Dean snorted, trying to hide a laugh. “I’ll crash the car.” she said. Dean raised a hand, apologizing, but kept his stupid smile on his stupid face for the rest of the trip.
Emily pushed the door open and Kevin flinched awake. She ignored him and walked past the table he was sitting at. She crouched down to a cabinet and started emptying the bag of supplies. She heard Sam say something inaudible to Kevin but didn’t turn. She just assumed - and hoped, really, he was smart enough to not say anything about their conversation. When she closed the fridge, she stood back up, her knees cracking.
“Was that you?” asked Kevin. Emily turned and huffed. Sam and Dean were gone.
“Yeah,” she said, crossing her arms. “It's made that sound ever since I rescued you, so…” Kevin shook his head. “I’ll keep you posted on how the second trial goes, okay?”
“Sure,” said Kevin. “That’s…” he trailed off. “Yeah that’s fine, I guess.”
“Don’t go AWOL, you hear me? Call me.”
“Maybe keep your phone charged,” he said. Emily nodded and walked back towards the door.
“Okay, I’ll-” she pointed to the door. “I’ll go. Sam’s driving, so it’s going to be like… a five hour drive.”
“Okay,” said Kevin.
“See you next week.” Emily pulled the door open.
“Emily?” called Kevin. Emily clenched her fist around the handle and stopped. She closed her eyes and kept facing away from Kevin for a moment before she took a deep breath and turned.
“Yeah?” Kevin looked at her for a moment, bit the inside of his cheek and then looked away. “You okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” he whispered. “I…” he trailed off. “It’s not important,” he said. “Something about- about Harry Potter, but- I don’t know, I already forgot.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll text you, okay?”
“Fine.”
“Cool,” Emily said. She pointed towards the door and walked out. “Gotta go.”
“Did you get the info we needed?” asked Emily, walking into the library, where Sam had been researching. “How do I take a field trip to hell?”
“More like how we take a trip to hell,” said Dean from the other side of the table. “You’re not going alone.”
“Of course I am,” Emily said. “My trials, my trip to hell.” Sam looked at her.
“You sure? You haven’t exactly been in top shape lately.” he said.
“Rude,” said Emily. “I’m perfectly fine. The more we are the more likely it is we get caught and it all goes to… well, to hell.”
“And if you go alone, nobody can back you up,” said Dean. “Negative. I’m coming with you.”
“Why you?” said Sam. “I- I actually thought I would go.”
“No.” said Emily, pointing at Dean. “And no.” she pointed at Sam. He rolled his eyes. “I managed with Kevin the first time, I’ll manage alone the second one.” Dean and Sam looked at each other. “You’re not going to convince me, so don’t bother.” Her brothers sighed. Sam handed the laptop to her.
Emily found the rogue reaper and promised him a favor in exchange for a round trip to hell. It wasn’t even that hard to convince him, she thought, walking around a dark, sketchy alley. But it’s definitely going to come biting me in the ass. She took one last step next to Ajay, the reaper, and the alley morphed into a dark, yet unfamiliar scenario. She was in a forest.
“This isn’t hell,” she said, looking at Ajay. “What the hell, man?”
“Don’t sweat it, Emily Reed, this is purgatory,” he answered. Emily tried to answer but he kept talking. “This is hell-adjacent.” He pointed to a stream of water. “Follow the water to where three trees meet as one. That’s the door.”
“You’re not coming with me?” she asked. Suddenly, in a flash of light, another reaper appeared a few feet away from her. “Busy street, isn’t it?” she asked. The second reaper moved away, revealing his passenger. “Kevin?!” said Emily. Kevin turned, surprised. “What the hell- why are you here?!”
“Hey!” said Kevin to the reaper. “I asked for discretion and you park me next to your colleague?”
“The door’s here.” said the reaper. “You realize how dangerous it is to smuggle humans through the border?” He looked at Kevin, then at Emily. “To smuggle a prophet and a Winchester, especially?” Emily rolled her eyes and looked at Ajay.
“Be here in twenty four hours,” he said. “Don’t be late.” Emily looked back at Kevin and the reaper next to him had disappeared. When she turned to look for Ajay, he was also gone.
“What the hell were you thinking?!” said Emily. Kevin tried to talk. “This is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done!” She looked around. “You have any idea how dangerous this place is?”
“You really thought I was gonna let you come alone?” said Kevin. Emily scoffed and started walking on the riverbank, following its stream. “I even brought the gun you gave me last time.”
“Well, bad news, advanced placement, that is just a piece of junk metal down here.” she said. “Now shut up. Half of purgatory is probably looking for us. I’m sure you remember Leviathans don’t exactly die easy.”
“I’m familiar.” Kevin walked closely behind her, looking around. He handed her a plastic bottle. “But I came prepared.” Emily opened the bottle and sniffed it. Borax. She raised her eyebrows, surprised.
“Uh,” she said. “I guess you did.”
“Always that tone of surprise.” Emily stopped and looked at him. Kevin stopped too, almost slipping on the uneven ground.
“Are you trying to win me over with Harry Potter quotes?” Kevin huffed and continued walking. A leviathan jumped out from behind a tree and threw Kevin to the ground. Emily used her powers to move the monster away, then stabbed it. While it was struggling, Emily managed to pick its weapon from the ground. She took a step back to stand next to Kevin, who had loaded his gun. Emily could see his hands shake, so she clenched her hand around the newfound weapon, ready to strike. When the leviathan took a step forward, Kevin fired a shot that missed. Emily stepped forward and cut its head off. As the head rolled downhill and stopped on the riverbank, Emily turned towards Kevin. He still had his eyes closed and his gun pointed. Emily huffed. “Next time,” she said, patting his shoulder. “Keep your eyes open.” Kevin secured his gun and cleared his voice. “It’s easier to hit the target.”
“Sorry,” he said. Emily helped him up. “You were probably right, shouldn’t have come.”
“Of course I was right,” she said. “And you’re welcome.”
“How did you do that?” he asked. “I mean you- you- the leviathan-” Emily sighed.
“Oh, right,” she sighed. “It’s kind of a long story, but…” Emily tried to think of a simple way to explain her powers. “When I was a kid a demon fed me his blood and that… gave me freaky powers.” She kept walking in the direction Ajay had pointed. “And telepathy.” Kevin tripped on something and almost fell.
“What did you say?” he asked, catching up with her.
“I said telepathy,” she looked at Kevin, in silence. He crossed his arms and looked away. Even in the dark of purgatory, Emily could still see that a lot of his blood was rushing to his face.
“So you- you can-”
“Not with you, genius,” she said. “Only with Sam, actually.”
“Oh,” Kevin frowned, actually looking relieved. “Of course. Yeah, it- it makes sense.”
“Don’t worry, Kevin, I’m not in your head,” she said. She spotted a group of three trees. “I see the trees, hurry up.”
“I don’t see anything,” said Kevin, looking at the place where the trees had grown together. Emily walked closer and felt some air, like a gust of wind, coming from behind a stone.
“Help me out with this,” she said. She waited until Kevin was in position and then pulled the stone. When it rolled away, it revealed a hole just where the roots of the trees met. “Ever read Alice in Wonderland, advanced placement?” she asked, taking a step back. Kevin nodded. “Chapter one, down the rabbit hole.”
“Wait, that’s the door?” he asked. Emily looked around.
“Okay, listen to me for a second. I’ve been down there,” she said. Kevin frowned. “It’s fifty shades of crappy. If it’s half as bad as I remember it, it’s going to be seriously scary.” Kevin swallowed. “Whatever happens, you stay close to me, you got that?”
“Yeah, yeah.” he said. “Scary. Crappy. Other negative adverbs. I got that.” Emily looked at him and sighed.
“Ready?” Kevin didn’t answer. She wrapped her hand around his wrist and stepped into the rabbit hole. She blinked and she was in a dark, humid hall. “Okay,” she whispered and looked at her watch. “Twenty four hours start now.” She started walking down the hall, Kevin closely following her. She stopped, seeing a series of tortured souls along the walls.
“Are those…” asked Kevin. Several souls turned, attracted by the sound. Emily gestured at him not to talk and continued. One after the other, all the tortured souls tried to get their attention. They would repeat the same phrase, over and over. “I’m innocent,”, or “You came. I knew you would. I’ve been praying for forever.” Over and over again, in a weird, cacophonic melody of pleads. She wondered what it was that her soul had repeated over and over for a hundred years. When Emily found Bobby’s cage she slowed down and turned to look at Kevin. He didn’t say anything. He bit his nails and crossed his arms.
“Bobby?” she called, opening the cell. The man turned, dark, deep circles marking his eyes. She did some quick math in her head. If time in that part of hell worked like it did for hers, he had been there for more than two centuries. Bobby tried to hit her, but she moved, just for the punch to hit Kevin. He fell back.
“Get out of here, black eyed bitch!” said Bobby.
“What? No, it’s Emily!” she said, avoiding another hit.
“Yeah and I’m Elvis!” Kevin stood back up and massaged his nose. Emily looked at him and sighed. His nose couldn’t get more broken than it already was, right?
“No, seriously, it’s me!” Bobby tried to hit her again, this time Emily took a step back and pushed Kevin back with her. She scowled back at him and he finally moved farther back. “Damn it, okay-” she looked around, checking if someone was coming. “I’ll tell you something only you and I know, okay?” she said. She glared at Kevin and rolled her eyes. The last thing she wanted or needed was for Kevin to know what she was about to tell Bobby. “When I killed myself, I left you a letter that said you were more of a father than John ever was.” Bobby’s eyes narrowed.
“What?”
“Yeah,” she said. “And you were the only person to show up at my high school graduation, because John forgot the date even though you reminded him like a hundred times.” She shrugged. “He was on a hunt, just one state over.” Bobby frowned.
“Emily?” he asked, confused.
“What have I been telling you?” she smiled. “Now come give me a hug before hell comes and fucking kills all of us.” Bobby took a step forward and hugged her. His hands were cold, but just as callous as she remembered them. “I missed you.”
“I’m sorry, but you’re like the- the hundredth Emily I’ve seen today.” he said. Emily frowned. “That’s how they mess with me. They keep sending fake Deans, Sams and Emilys.” Emily crossed her arms, checking that Kevin was still behind her. “Wait a minute, sweetheart, you aren’t-”
“Dead?” she said. “Nah. You know it doesn’t stick with us Winchesters.” Bobby took a deep breath or relief. “Me and Kevin are bailing you out.”
“You’re-” Bobby frowned. “Who’s Kevin?” Emily pointed to Kevin a few steps away, who was wrapping himself in his arms and looking around. “Where the hell did you get that?”
“Prophet of the lord,” Emily explained. “Followed me here against my best advice.”
“Prophet- what the hell is going on?” Bobby complained.
“In short? Dean went to purgatory, Sam went Girl Interrupted, me and the prophet are saving the world.” she said. “Now, can we get out of here?” She grabbed Kevin’s wrist and dragged him in the same direction they came from, then let him go. As they walked, Emily spotted a demon coming their way and pushed both Bobby and Kevin behind a corner. She handed Ruby’s knife to Bobby and kept the weapon she found in purgatory for herself. She saw Kevin put a hand on his gun but she moved it away and gestured at him to stay silent. Kevin swallowed. Emily remained silent, listening to the demon’s steps. When it was just behind the corner, she came out, locked the demon’s arms behind its back and turned it towards Bobby, who stabbed it. Another demon arrived and tried to attack Kevin, but Bobby threw Ruby’s knife to Emily and then shoved the demon in front of her. The knife went through the demon’s throat, blood spurting everywhere. Emily cleaned her face and caught her breath.
“See?” she said to Kevin, who was using his arm to wipe the blood off his face. “This? This is backing me up.” Kevin rolled his eyes and resumed walking. Emily pointed to the direction they entered hell from and waited for Bobby and Kevin to go first. She looked at her watch. Twenty two hours. She pushed Kevin and Bobby through the door and appeared in purgatory.
“What the hell is this?” asked Bobby. Emily sighed and checked if Kevin was still there.
“Purgatory.”
“Oh, so you didn’t mean Purgatory, the gay strip club?” asked Bobby. Emily frowned. “You meant Purgatory, purgatory?”
“Of course, why would it matter that Dean went to a strip club?!” She saw Kevin take a step towards her and moved out of the way. Something hit her on the back. She turned: it was a leviathan's head. Kevin cleaned his face with his t-shirt.
“Thanks,” said Emily, surprised. Kevin opened his mouth. “Yeah, tone of surprise. Sorry. I heard it.” She walked to the riverbank and followed it upstream, to get back to where Ajay had left her.
“So, just to recap…” said Bobby. “You- you and… Kevin, right?” Bobby looked towards Kevin. He weakly nodded. “You said you’re saving the world?”
“Yeah, so- remember how I opened the gates of hell?” she said. Bobby nodded. “Well, my favorite prophet over here has a way to close them.”
“A prophet, uh?” said Bobby. He looked at Emily. She slowed down to walk next to Kevin.
“You all good?” she asked. “You’re not gonna pull a Dobby on me and reveal your mortal injury just when I think everything went well, are you?” Kevin showed her his hands.
“These hands are clean, boss.” he said. “I’m just glad to be out of there. It was way too Dark Souls-y for my taste.”
“Let me get this straight,” said Emily with a huff. “You had time to play Dark Souls, but not to watch Harry Potter?”
“I had limited free time,” he said. “Very limited.” Emily checked her watch.
“So, where are we going, exactly?” asked Bobby. Emily looked around.
“This is the place,” she stopped walking. “The reapers should be back… now.”
“Yeah, I got that, but…” Bobby trailed off. “Where am I going?”
“We got you a deluxe suite in heaven.” said Emily. “At least, I hope.” Bobby shook his head. “I can promise heaven, not the deluxe suite.” Kevin checked the time on Emily’s watch.
“Where are they?” he asked. Emily looked around. “Emily?”
“I’m sorry, do I look like the big boss of all reapers?” she asked. Bobby tried to say something. “That’s Death, I know-” she looked around. “This is the place, right?” Kevin looked around and nodded. “Jesus fucking Christ.” Emily groaned.
“Well, I have to say I missed hearing you say that,” said Bobby. “He’s a few minutes late, what’s the fuss?”
“No, Bobby, he- they- they were specific. They said twenty four hours, to the minute.”
“So, what happens if they don’t show up?” asked Bobby. Emily looked at Kevin.
“Crap,” he said. Emily looked at Bobby and pointed to Kevin.
“We’re all stuck here?” With a roar, a vampire came out of nowhere and tackled Kevin to the floor. She could only take a step before something hit her, too. She struggled to set herself free, unable to keep it away from her. She tried to use her powers, but nothing happened. She pushed the leviathan’s face away and tried to kick it, to get leverage to get him off of herself, but she couldn't. The monster opened its mouth, and Emily instinctively turned her face away and closed her eyes. She felt something warm spray on her face and she turned. The headless body of the vampire fell on her. She moved it out of the way. Kevin helped her up, holding the leviathan blade she’d picked up earlier.
“Next time keep your eyes open,” he said. “It’s easier to hit the target.” Emily was about to answer when she heard struggling. She turned to see Bobby still down, fighting with a vampire. She tried to step towards them, but another figure did first. The vampire rolled off of Bobby's to fight with the mysterious creature. When it had won the fight, the figure stood up. Bobby tried to attack it, too, but Emily stopped him.
“Benny?” she called. The vampire turned and spit out some blood.
“Well, well, well,” said Benny, his teeth retracting. “If it isn’t my favorite nurse.”
“What the hell are you doing here?” she asked.
“Your brother,” he said.
“Sam?” she asked. “Sam killed you? Seriously?”
“What?” The vampire asked. “No. Your other brother. Dean sent me.”
“Dean?” asked Bobby, frowning. “Not my Dean.”
“He’s the reason Dean’s alive,” Emily explained. “He’s good.”
“A freakin vampire?” Bobby asked.
“Yeah, well-” said Emily, helping Kevin stand up. “I had an angel. Sam had a demon. Dean, apparently, had a vampire.” Kevin dragged his hands through his clothes, getting the dirt off of it. “Are you getting us out or what, grandpa?” she asked. The vampire nodded with a smile and started walking. Emily picked up another weapon from the ground and gave it to Kevin. Benny led the group, Bobby keeping his distance. Emily walked next to him.
“He called you his favorite nurse,” he said, confused.
“I saved his ass. Now he’s saving mine.” she said. “Look, I figured if Dean trusted him, I did, too.”
“So, your new boyfriend is a prophet-” said Bobby. Emily turned towards him. Kevin, a few steps past Bobby, picked up his head for a moment and then pretended not to have heard.
“Bobby!” said Emily. “He’s not-” She rolled her eyes. “Jesus Christ, why does everyone think that?”
“If he’s not your boyfriend, why did he follow you all the way to hell?” asked Bobby, confused. “It don’t sound like something you do for a friend.” Emily looked at Kevin, who had hurried his steps and was now further away. Bobby shook his head and smiled. “Oh, sweetheart, you haven’t changed a bit.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Emily asked, looking around.
“It means you still think you can hide stuff from me.”
“I’m not hiding anything!” said Emily.
“You sure about that?” Bobby smirked. Emily rolled her eyes.
“Bobby, we spend half our time fighting, how’s that a good base for a relationship?” she asked.
“As I said, haven’t changed a bit,” Bobby smiled.
“Benny, please tell me we’re almost there.” she called. The vampire turned and smiled.
“It’s just over there,” he said. Emily looked where he was pointing: a small blue cloud was sitting on top of a hill. “That’s the portal.” Emily walked past Bobby, Kevin and Benny and arrived first in front of the portal. It got bigger. Kevin stood next to her.
“Bobby, you got a one way ticket to heaven.” she said. “Once we get out, there’s not gonna be time for goodbyes.”
“I mean, it’s not forever, is it?” said Bobby with a smile. “Just… make sure to take your time. Don’t you dare show up before you turn eighty.”
“You know the spell?” asked Benny. “You better hurry up.” Emily nodded. Bobby used Ruby’s knife to cut his arm. Emily took it and did the same. Kevin hissed, looking at the blood falling on the floor. Emily looked at Bobby, who smirked.
“Conjuncti sumus, unum sumus.” Emily recited. She grabbed Bobby’s arm, the two cuts touching, and he disappeared inside her wound. Then, she turned towards Benny. “Alright, your turn now, Edward Cullen,” she said, ignoring the sting in her right arm. A drop of blood fell on her shoes. She handed the knife to Benny, but he didn’t move. “What? You don’t like Twilight or something?” Three vampires appeared to their left. “Hurry up!” she said.
“Benny!” called the monsters. “Still working with the Winchesters.” Emily turned towards Benny.
“Time for you and your boyfriend to go, kid,” he said.
“Wh-” Benny patted her shoulder and left. Emily tried to go after him.
“You two go, it’s me they want,” said Benny. Emily turned towards Kevin. “Go on. Just… make sure you tell Dean I said goodbye.” Kevin grabbed Emily’s arm.
“Kevin, wait-” she said, turning around and shoving her arm back. She walked back to the vampire. “Benny!”
“I was never any good up there, anyway,” he said. Emily looked back at Kevin, then at Benny, biting the inside of her cheek.
“Jesus Christ, Dean is going to fucking kill me,” she whispered. She took one of the weapons she’d picked up from the leviathans earlier. “Here,” she pushed the weapon in Benny's hand. The vampires were approaching.
“Dean's right about you,” said the vampire before walking down the hill. Emily frowned. She took a step back and climbed back up to the portal. She hesitated looking at Benny being overwhelmed by the monsters. He wasn’t gonna make it. She looked back at Kevin.
“This is the time we leave, right?” he asked. Emily clenched her fists and looked back at Benny another time before she grabbed Kevin’s arm and entered the portal. She fell on her back in the middle of a forest. She looked to her left, where Kevin was sitting back up. She closed her eyes and leaned back on the ground.
“Are you okay?” asked Kevin. Emily nodded.
“Emily!” she heard Dean’s voice call. She stood up. A few yards away, in a clearing, was Dean. He looked at her as she walked towards him. He frowned. “What are you doing here?” he asked, seeing Kevin stumble behind her.
“He’s an idiot, that’s what.” said Emily. Dean touched her shoulder and tried to talk. “I’m fine.” she said. “Dean, Benny, he-”
“He what?” Dean asked.
“He didn’t want to come out,” she said. Dean’s hand fell back on his side. “Vampires showed up and he…” Emily hesitated. “He didn’t want to come out.” Dean looked away, his eyes filling with tears. Emily looked back at Kevin. He crossed his arms. “I’m sorry.” she said. Dean nodded, silent, and licked his lips.
“So, uh-” he cleared his voice. “Bobby, how’d he hold up down there?”
“Everything considered?” Emily said. “Saner than we were when we got out.” She tried to hint a smile, but Dean nodded, silent. “Kevin, do you have the spell?” she asked. Kevin took a piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to her, his hands shaking. Emily took Ruby’s knife and cut her arm again. “Solvo haec phantasmata in terram,” she recited. Her arm glowed a burning yellow, not more painful than the cut itself. “Et inde ad olympum.” From the cut came out a blue light that started moving up. It moved almost to the top of the trees, where it stopped and turned black. “Wh-”
“Hello, Sheep,” said Crowley’s voice. “Squirrel. Kevin.” The demon looked up at Bobby’s soul. “And Bobby Singer. I’d know you anywhere.” Emily’s fingers clutched Ruby’s knife. With a flick of Crowley’s finger, Bobby’s soul started to go back down, but it stopped a few feet from the ground. An angel appeared next to Crowley. Emily looked at Dean. “Oh come on,” said the demon, rolling his eyes.
“Let me see if I interpreted the situation correctly,” said the angel. “The youngest Winchester has freed an innocent from Hell, to which you are wrongfully trying to return it.” Crowley rolled his eyes. Dean leaned closer to Emily.
“That’s the bitch that was controlling Cas,” he whispered. “Name’s Naomi.” Emily’s jaw clenched and her hand moved from her knife to the angel blade Meg gave her.
“Siding with them, Naomi?” Crowley said. “You don't know those three. Before they're done, we'll both be locked away.”
“I'm just hoping they lock you away, dear,” said Naomi with a smile. “The rest I'll figure out.”
“Bureaucrat. You're fighting outside your weight class,” said Crowley. Naomi, angry, took a step forward.
“Don't call me a bureaucrat,” she hissed, extending a hand towards Crowley. Before she could do anything, the demon had disappeared. The angel looked at Dean. “I told you you could trust me.” she said. Bobby’s souls started moving up again, and disappeared in the distance. Emily looked at Dean, then at Kevin, who handed her one last piece of paper. Emily read the enochian spell, her arm once again turning yellow. The same pain she’d felt the first time stung her again, making her fall to the floor. She groaned, holding on the edge of Dean’s jacket, and waited until the pain was gone. She caught her breath.
“Jesus, that was rough,” she whispered, standing back up. Dean looked at her, worried. “I’m fine.” she said. Kevin raised his eyebrows. “Dude,” she smiled, trying to switch the attention on something else. “You saved my ass in there, twice.”
“You what?” asked Dean, turning towards Kevin.
“Don't get me wrong,” she said. Kevin rolled his eyes. “You're still an idiot for coming after me, but you know- thanks.”
Emily looked above her laptop screen just to see Kevin stare blankly in front of him.
“You okay?” she asked. Kevin nodded. His eyes shifted to her and then back to the wall, his nail digging into his arm. Emily frowned. “Are you sure?” Kevin didn't answer. Emily closed her laptop and sighed. She stood up and walked to the coffee pot. She emptied it in the sink and rinsed it. Kevin didn't seem to even realise she had moved. Emily filled the coffee pot with water and turned it on. The sound of the water heating made Kevin turn. He stared at the water as it slowly formed bubbles and started boiling. Emily took two teabags out of her backpack and dropped them in the water. It was only then that Kevin looked up.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Tea,” she answered.
“Why?”
“Dude, just tell me what's going on.” Kevin's hand moved away from the opposite arm, where his nails had left four purple marks.
“When- when we were down there... you- you said you'd been to hell.”
“Yeah,” she said. “Why?”
“So, you- you-” Kevin rolled his eyes and trailed off. Emily grabbed two cups off the magnetically closed cabinet and filled them with tea.
“Seeing purgatory and hell for the first time all in one trip must have been a treat,” she said. Kevin didn't answer. He stared in front of him. Emily put one of the cups in front of him, he winced. She sighed and shook her head. She took her cup and walked towards the window, she looked outside. Her car was parked not too far away but she'd been there for days and it was starting to get covered in leaves. She lit a cigarette. Travelling all the way from Kansas to the Mexico border was starting to get old, so Emily’d been spending more time on the boat. But in the previous three days, after she'd driven Kevin back from the second trial, he'd barely spoken. He would act normal, otherwise. Just, silent. “Is that where you're going?” asked Kevin. Emily didn't turn. She closed her eyes and sighed. “When you die, from the trials, is that where you're going?”
“I don't know,” said Emily. Kevin remained silent.
“That’s just it?” he asked a few seconds later. “You don’t know?”
“What difference does it make?” she asked. Kevin looked away and scoffed. Emily shook her head. “Look, how about we take the night off?”
“No, it’s fine.” Kevin pushed the tea away and dragged the tablet back in front of him. Emily crossed her arms. “I don’t want this to drag out any longer.” Emily leaned on the wall next to the window, smoking, and looked at Kevin. He tapped his pencil on his temple and stared at the tablet. A few minutes later, he looked up and stared at the wall for a few minutes before releasing a frustrated groan.
“Can’t focus?” asked Emily. Kevin ignored her. “Dude, why don’t you just tell me what’s wrong?” Again, Kevin didn’t even look at her. A wave of frustration went through Emily’s body. She took a deep breath and bit the inside of her cheek. “Okay, you know what?” she said. “I’m just gonna go, okay?” Kevin’s eyes shot up. Emily walked towards her backpack. “I’m not gonna sit here waiting for you to get over this weird, stupid male pride thing, okay?” Kevin tried to open his mouth to speak, but Emily continued. “Hell is fucked up! What happened to Benny is fucked up! You don't need to-”
“That’s not-”
“You realize I could just… Not give a shit about you, right? I could just call once a month to see if you're still alive.”
“Why don't you do it then?” Kevin asked, pushing the tea cup away.
“Because I was under the impression that we were doing something together!” Emily yelled. “You know, like- like a fucking team! But apparently, I was wrong!”
“A team?” asked Kevin. “I'm stuck in this shit hole, alone, I'm going crazy, I can't go out, I can't open the windows, I can't-”
“I asked you a thousand times if you wanted to come back to the Bunker!”
“I don't!”
“Then what the hell do you want from me?!” yelled Emily. Kevin shook his head. “You know what? Grow up.” She picked up her backpack. “Call me when you're ready to stop acting like a baby.”
Emily hadn't heard from Kevin in days, and it was starting to stress her out. She was starting to rethink leaving him like that, maybe she should have been more patient. Maybe she could have done it better. She definitely could have. Because she knew how Kevin was feeling, she didn't really need for him to say anything. But at the same time, that was what she did with Dean. And Sam. All the fucking time. And she wanted, just for once, to not do that. She wanted not to have to guess what people were feeling. Kevin didn't call her or text her, she didn't either. He was always saying how much he didn't need her help, right? That was the perfect opportunity to prove himself. No contact was made for an entire week. Then, Emily's phone rang and it was Kevin.
“Hello?”
“Oh, oh- You answ’ed!” said Kevin. Oh, not again. “Look, I- I- I found some… some gin here on the boat-”
“You what?!” Emily asked, already walking towards her backpack. The trials had been taking a toll on her, so she groaned as she stood up, the pain in her body overwhelming her for just a moment.
“I- I wanted to call you, because- because…” Kevin trailed off. Emily sighed. “I don't know, act’lly, I- I forgot-” Kevin chuckled. Fuck.
“Are you drunk?” asked Emily.
“I guess,” said Kevin. “Oh! I remember now!” Emily remained silent. “I said I remember!”
“What?”
“Why I called!”
“Okay…” Emily took the car keys from her desk. “And why is that?”
“I wanted to tell you something,” said Kevin. Fuck fuck fuck. “But you- you- you should come here!”
“Kevin, I'm not driving four hours to see you drunk,” she lied, putting on her overalls.
“C’me ooooooon, you should come down here, we can have a drink t’gether!” Fuuuuck.
“Dude, we talked about this. I'm not coming there if you're going to-”
“Oh, don't worry about that-” said Kevin. “I'm all grown up!” Emily sighed. “Aaaaand I really want to tell you something!” Fuck.
“Okay,” she sighed. “I’m gonna be there tonight, okay?”
“What?!” said Kevin. “Nooo, no no no, just- come now!” he complained. Emily stopped walking and groaned again. She couldn’t go. At least, not until she found some meds that worked.
“Kevin, I can't-”
“Pleeeeease-”
“Why is it so important that I come now?” Emily put down her backpack and walked towards the infirmary. She had to have left something there.
“I have to tell you something!” Kevin repeated.
“Yeah, I got that, you said it three times already!” Emily complained. She found a bottle of pain meds. “Look, I’m gonna leave in like- an hour.” Kevin didn’t answer and Emily only heard the harsh sound of his fingers over the microphone. “Kevin, what the hell are you doing?”
“Putting my jacket on!” he said. “If you’re not coming here, I’m going to-”
“Woah, woah, slow down, you’re not going anywhere!” said Emily. “First, it’s probably suicide to step out of that boat, and second- you’re drunk! You can’t drive!”
“I’m tired of being stuck here!” said Kevin. “I want tooo…” He trailed off. Emily frowned, yellow bottle in her hands.
“Kevin?”
“Sorry, I- I’m not sure what I was about to say,” he said. Emily opened the cap and swallowed two pills.
“Okay, listen to me,” she sighed. “I’m gonna leave now, happy?”
“How long?” Kevin asked. Emily rolled her eyes.
“I don’t know, four hours?” she said, walking towards the garage.
“But that’s like- sooooo long!”
“Dude, I’m in Kansas. It doesn’t get faster than that,” she said, picking up her backpack from the floor.
“But I need to tell you something!”
“Yeah, it’s gonna have to wait!”
When she parked the car in South Padre, it was exactly four hours later. She’d lost count of how many times she’d cursed Kevin out, and also of the times he’d tried to call her. She checked her phone. Twenty seven. Jesus fucking christ. All she could hope for was that that alcohol had come down enough and that he would do or say something that would have made the situation more tense than it already was.
“Kevin, open up!” She knocked on the door. Kevin opened it and let her in. It took Emily one second too long to realize Kevin would never let her in that easily, and she felt the bucket of cold- very cold holy ocean water fall on her face. She shook it off her eyes. Kevin looked at her, still suspicious. “What the hell, dude?” Kevin took a step back and lost his balance. Great. He’s still drunk. “Was the shower really necessary?!”
Emily came out of the bathroom rubbing a towel over her hair. Kevin was opening a beer can. Emily took it from his hands.
“How about you slow down, tiger?” she said, taking a sip for herself. “You seem drunk enough.” Kevin rolled his eyes.
“Why d’you have to be like that?!” he said. “You've been obsessing ov’r me taking a break for the past ye’r and now that I’m taking th’break… you complain?”
“How much have you had to drink?” she asked. Kevin moved his hand in front of his face and started counting with his fingers.
“Six.”
“Six what?!” asked Emily, alarmed.
“Beers!” Emily blinked a couple of times, then turned the beer can she was holding.
“Okay, six of these?” Kevin nodded. “That’s…” Emily frowned, trying to calculate in her head. “Point zero five?” Kevin shrugged. “I guess that’s not-”
“And two of these!” Kevin flung his arm to point at a bottle of gin.
“Okay, Kevin, Jesus Christ-” Emily raised her eyebrows.
“What?” he asked, almost losing his balance again.
“What did you do that for?” she asked, sitting down at the table. She put the beer in front of him and Kevin reached for it. She moved it to her lap.
“I was bored!” he said. “And I didn’t want to think about hell and- and that girl- Margie-”
“Okay…” Emily sighed. “What about some food, uh?” she asked. Kevin looked at her and frowned for a moment.
“Okay.” He shrugged. Emily raised her eyebrows, surprised. She stood up and reached for her backpack and Kevin walked behind her, leaning over her shoulder to see what was in it. Seeing him way too close to her face, she cleared her voice and handed him a pack of chips.
“Here,” she said, taking a step back.
“How did you get here so fast?!” he asked. “You said four hours!”
“It’s… it’s been four hours, Kevin,” she said. Kevin looked at the time on his phone, confused. “But I have to leave tomorrow night, okay? Sam needs help with some research.”
“Ooooh, so you don't have to drive!” Kevin said, smiling. “So you can get drunk with me?!”
“You don’t have enough alcohol in this boat to get me drunk,” she smirked. Kevin took a handful of chips and shoved it in his mouth, crumbs going anywhere.
“These chips are sooo good!” he said. A few crumbs fell from his mouth and on the floor. Emily shook her head. “How many more drinks until I stop thinking about hell?” he asked. Emily sighed.
“Told you, that's not how it works,” she said.
“What do you mean?”
“Getting drunk is not going to make you forget anything. It just makes you dumb.”
“Oh,” Kevin frowned. He looked at Emily. “Do you think I'm dumb?”
“No,” said Emily. Kevin remained silent. “I'm serious. You know what would have helped you? Talking with me when I asked you to!”
“But I didn't want to!”
“Why?!”
“Because if you think 'm weak, y're not going to let me come to the third ‘rial!”
“Or,” said Emily. “Maybe I'm not going to let you come because I'm going to die during that trial, and you've been through enough, how about that?”
“So, I was right!” said Kevin. “You do think I'm weak!”
“What?!” Emily frowned. “That's not what I said, I-”
“You know, even if I'm drunk, you're still a bitch, and I still can't stand you!” Kevin complained, putting down the chips.
“Kevin, for the love of God…” Emily sighed and turned away. “You asked me to come here! You begged this bitch to drive four hours away from her family!”
“You have no idea how fucking lonely it gets here!” yelled Kevin. “And what am I going to do here when you die?!” He put his hands on Emily's shoulders and shook her back and forth. “I don't want you to die!”
“Dude-” Emily put her hands on Kevin's shoulders to stop herself. “When I die, you're going back home.”
“And then what?! My mom is dead, I am not going to college anytime soon, and I don't have a job!”
“You'll find one,” Emily said. “Kevin, everything will be okay.”
“And what about Sam and- and Dean? I'm sure they're going to find some shit for me to translate or something-” Emily looked away. That was not a good moment to tell him they had, in fact, already found something else. Kevin picked the beer up from the table.
“Okay and?” said Emily. “Fuck what they want. What do you want?” Kevin looked at her and frowned. He crossed his arms, finally letting go of Emily. He took a step back. “You're gonna move on, Kevin. And this? This is just going to be a nightmare you have twice a year.”
“I don't like being alone,” he said. Emily sighed. “I don't like it when it's this quiet, please, just- just-”
“Kevin, I'm here now, okay?” she said. “And you're drunk. Very drunk.”
“Yeah- I wanted to- to tell you-” Oh fuck no, change subject, fast. Emily turned and took the beer out of his hands. “Hey!”
“Do you know how to play chess?” she asked. Kevin frowned, his eyes lingering on something behind Emily for a moment.
“Can we play alcoholic chess?” he asked, eyes focusing again.
“I really don't want you to puke on me again,” she smiled. “But we can give it a try.”
“I'm not going to puke! I'm not a kid!” Kevin complained.
“Okay,” Emily shook her head. “Let's set up, I saw a board in here somewhere.”
Emily stared at the board as Kevin thought of his first move.
“What's the time limit?” he asked. Emily shrugged. The board was missing a few pieces, which they replaced with a beer cap, a chip and a piece of paper.
“I'll wait, take your time,” she said, leaning back in the chair.
“Are you good at this game?” Kevin asked.
“Kinda,” she said. “I got a gold medal when I was twelve.”
“Seriously?” Kevin frowned.
“I won against senior year students,” she smirked. Kevin nodded. “Are you good?”
“I had a 2000 rating on chess.com,” Kevin said, inspecting the pieces.
“You what?!” Emily almost spit out her beer. “Dude, you're so going to destroy me!”
“I don't know…” said Kevin. “I'm drunk,” He moved a pawn forward three blocks.
“Dude,” Emily sighed. “You can't do that.” Kevin looked at her, confused. She moved the pawn back one square and crossed her arms, thinking about her move.
“Can I ask you something?” asked Kevin, putting one foot on the chair. He was starting to look like that guy from Death Note. Just with chips instead of sweets. Emily nodded. “Did you… did you grow up a hunter?” she shook her head.
“No, I- Uh-...” Emily moved her pawn forward and Kevin illegally caught it. Emily shook her head and smiled. She moved her rook through the pawns and caught his rook. “My mom died back in 2002, when I was fourteen.” Kevin moved his knight as if it was the queen. “It was an interesting way to start my senior year.”
“So you were… good good? I thought you were messing with me.” he asked.
“Nope, that just… my life,” Emily sighed.
“Damn,” said Kevin. “It must have been awful growing up.”
“I mean… Not as awful as living with John Winchester,” she answered. She caught Kevin's king and exchanged it with one of her pawns. The chess game was fucked, and Kevin didn't seem to mind. “What about you? Was it fun to grow up smart?”
“Nah,” said Kevin. “But looking back… a boring life was better than being stuck in here.” He looked at Emily and shrugged. “Or maybe not, I don't know.”
“Give me the bottle,” she said, gesturing towards the gin. Kevin handed her the bottle and she poured herself a drink. “Tell me about your life,” she said. “I'm sure it wasn't that bad.”
“There's not much to say,” he answered. “I studied, mostly. I told you, it was boring.” Emily took a sip of her drink and crossed her legs. “What about you?”
“I was in ballet,” said Emily. “You know, homeschooled kid, good at sports, helped at home… And then, one night- boom.”
“I mean… I wasn't really good at sports, but- yeah, one night, it all went…boom.”
“Boom.” Emily blew over the chess board and made the pieces fall. “I think I won.” she said.
“I thought you said I was going to destroy you,” Kevin frowned.
“I did,” said Emily with a sigh. “I did say that.” She looked at him for a moment before pushing her chair back. “So, your old life.” she said, leaning back. “What was the plan?”
“Med school,” he said. “Be a doctor, I guess.”
“Seriously?” she asked. “I got accepted into pre med before it all went to shit.”
“Where?”
“Stanford,” Emily smiled. “But I'll be real - I wouldn't go back now.” Kevin frowned.
“Why?”
“Seen way too much blood,” she said. “So, tell me about your plans for the future.”
“What future?”
“I mean, we're close to the last trial,” said Emily. “It's almost over.”
“Yeah, but you're gonna be dead,” he said. Emily frowned.
“I asked you about your future, not mine.” Kevin shook his head. “What?”
“What's the difference?!” asked Kevin. “If you're dead, I- I- I don't know-”
“Dude, I told you, you're going to be fine,” Emily said, taking a deep breath.
“Don't call me dude!” Kevin snapped. Emily frowned. “I'm not- we're not-”
“What am I supposed to call you?” asked Emily. Kevin opened his mouth to answer. “Okay, maybe don't answer that- Just-”
“Why?! What do you think I'm gonna say?” he asked. Emily shook her head.
“Kevin, you're drunk!” she said. “And I think you're gonna say something very stupid we both know you're gonna regret!”
“Why would I regret it?” Kevin asked. Emily looked at him.
“Because I'm going to die, for Christ's sake! I'm gonna die and there's nothing you can do about it!”
“Okay, so I'll never translate the last trial! So you never die!”
“Kevin, that's not how it works! I'm getting worse by the day, I'm going to die, third trial or not!” Kevin looked at her and for a moment Emily thought he was going to cry, but then he stood up.
“I hate you,” he said and turned around. A few pieces of chess fell to the ground. Kevin took a few steps away. “I can't do this anymore!”
“Kevin-” Emily leaned back in the chair and sighed. “Sit down, okay? We can talk about this.”
“No, I don't want to talk! I'm tired of talking!” Kevin yelled. “I want to-”
“Okay, you know what?!” Emily said, standing up. “Maybe I should leave!”
“What?” Kevin turned.
“Jesus- I knew coming here was a dumb idea,” she said, grabbing her backpack.
“Really?!”
“Really! I thought- you know-” she trailed off and groaned. “But I guess I should have known better!” Kevin shook his head. “I should have known this was just another stupid stunt!”
“Why do you think I've done all those ‘stupid things’?!” asked Kevin. Emily walked towards the door.
“I'm gonna go,” she said. “I’m sorry, okay? But I’m the one who opened the gates of hell,” she said. “And I- I- I just can't, okay?” As she left, Emily felt Kevin's eyes on her. She slammed the door behind her and walked to her car. It was late to drive back. Her entire body ached and she hadn't brought any more pain meds. So, she climbed into the backseat and laid down. She closed her eyes. Fuck. She thought. I can't believe this is happening. She couldn't leave. She didn't want to. She wasn't even too sure she really wanted to finish the trials. Sure, the world would be a better place, but Kevin seemed to be really out of himself for the fact she was going to die and that just didn't sit right with Emily. She felt like she needed to do something to help him, she just had no idea what.
Emily woke up the next morning, still in her car, to someone knocking on her window. She focused her eyes and it was Kevin. Alarmed, she rushed out of the vehicle.
“What are you doing out here?!” she asked, dragging Kevin back towards the boat. “Do you realise how much-”
“I don't care!” he yelled. Emily kept dragging him and shoved him back into the boat. “Let me go!”
“No- stop!” Emily shoved Kevin through the last door and slammed it behind her. “Why would you come out here? After everything we've done to fucking keep you hidden? We're gonna have to move you again, genius!”
“Crowley knows where I am,” said Kevin. Emily froze. “I think he's known for a while, I-”
“Wh- H- Are you still drunk?!” Emily asked, confused.
“What?!” Kevin frowned. “No! I- I've been looking for you everywhere for like ten minutes! What were you doing sleeping out there?” Emily looked around her. Judging by the amount of bottles that were not there the night before, he was, in fact, drunk. And he didn't remember their fight. Of course he didn't remember. “I think Crowley might be in my head.”
“I doubt that,” said Emily. “Crowley can't read your mind.”
“Are you sure?” Kevin asked.
“Of course! Dude- did you go to sleep?”
“I mean- a couple of hours, but-”
“You need more than a couple of hours,” she said. “Don't take this the wrong way, but you might be delirious.”
“What? I'm fine, I'm just saying-”
“Kevin, no one is in your head but you!” she said. Kevin looked at her for a moment, then took a step back.
“You,” he said. “You're one of them!”
“Wh-” Before Emily could say anything, Kevin reached for a knife on the kitchen counter and attacked her. She felt something warm on her leg, along with a sharp pain. Her vision went double and she looked down. Kevin had stabbed her leg. When she looked back up, he was gone.
When she opened her eyes again, Sam was splashing freezing water in her face. “Jesus-” she groaned. “What the hell, Sam!” Dean was next to her, stitching her up.
“What happened?!” he asked, worried.
“Kevin lost it for good,” she said. She looked around. “How did you even know I was in trouble?”
“You weren't answering your phone,” Sam explained. “At first, Dean was making jokes about you and- well you and Kevin, but then we got worried.”
“Typical,” she sighed. “Yeah, Kevin stabbed me and took off,” she explained.
“It’s okay, we’ll go back to the Bunker. Can you walk?” Emily tried to put weight on her leg, but fell to the ground with a groan of pain. “It's okay, I’ll carry you. Come on…”
I am damaged
from Heathers The musical
Emily had been in her room for who knew how long. She'd lost track of time. Dean had been watching her every step, forcing her back to bed every few hours. “You need to rest,” he said. She complained every single time. But she wasn't nearly strong enough to fight back. She'd tried to work on finding Kevin, but looking at a screen felt like someone was stabbing her eyes. Hunting was out of the question. She could barely sit up straight. She knew at that speed, there was no way she could have done another trial. The only thing that kept her going was painkillers, weed and coffee in large quantities. That worked, but only for a few hours, and then the pain came back with interest. Emily had been listening to Sam and Dean arguing over who should come into her room for ten minutes, when finally the door opened and Sam showed up. Her powers were barely working anymore, but her neck itched in such a sudden and aggressive way that she knew: something was wrong. Very wrong. Sam hesitated on the door and Emily forced herself out of bed. She pushed herself away hard enough to land on the wall. Her cheek smacked on the concrete and she grimaced, in pain.
“What the hell is going on?” she asked. Sam looked outside the room and sighed. “Just tell me!”she yelled. Dean rolled his eyes and walked inside the room.
“We got a message from Kevin,” he said. Emily’s eyes widened. Fuck. She knew exactly what Dean was talking about. Automated message, only Kevin knew how to stop it from sending, and if it didn’t it meant he was dead.
“Shit.” Emily didn’t cry. Maybe her body wasn’t strong enough to feel emotions, but literally nothing happened in her brain. Except the drive to finish the trials. She was gonna drag herself through the last trials if she had to. “Shit,” she repeated. Dean looked at her and opened his mouth to talk. “I swear to god if either of you say a single word I’m gonna punch you.” That was an empty threat, she knew it, they knew it. She limped out of her room and into the hallway.
“Kid, you’re bleeding,” said Sam. Emily stopped and contemplated murder for a second before realizing what he’d said. She touched her face.
“Jesus Christ,” she whispered, pulling her t-shirt up to clean herself. Dean slapped her hands away and gave her a tissue. “Thanks,” she sighed and continued walking.
“Where are you going?” Dean asked.
“What part of don’t talk to me don’t you understand?” Emily asked. “I want back in, okay? I’m done rotting in that stupid room.”
“Kid, you can barely stand,” said Sam, catching up with her. “Look, I don't mean to-”
“Cool, then don't,”she said. “Where the fuck did you put my gun?”
“Woah, woah,” Dean said. “How about you lay down the tough guy act for a second?” He walked next to her and put a hand on her forehead. “You got a fever, okay? You gotta-”
“I’ll take a Tylenol,” Emily complained. She touched her forehead. “Or… three?” she sighed. “Look, I’m fine, okay? You know who’s not gonna be fine in a few hours? Crowley.” Dean frowned. “I’m done playing this game, I’m gonna kill the bastard.”
“Okay, I’m all for that,” Dean said. “But I don’t think you’re ready for a big showdown.”
“Why? Because I have a fever?” Emily raised her eyebrows. Dean rolled his eyes. “Dude, I’ve been in here for weeks, it’s only getting worse, I better tie up my loose ends while I can.” Emily walked towards the infirmary.
“Okay, okay, wait a second,” Sam said, appearing next to her. She rolled her eyes. “We might have found something about the third trial.”
“Cool, where?” she asked. Sam sighed and looked back at Dean. “What, you think you can tell me that and then tell me to stay home?” she asked, opening the infirmary door with her shoulder. “You should know better at that point.” She walked to a cabinet and opened it.
“And how exactly do you plan on coming all the way to Colorado when you can barely walk around?” Dean asked, crossing her arms. Emily took a bottle of Tylenol, opened it and shook five of them in her hands. Before either Sam or Dean could complain, she shoved them in her mouth and swallowed.
“Emily!” Sam complained. Emily ignored him and walked out of the infirmary and towards the bathroom. “What the hell?!”
“Oh, grow up, the lethal dose is like- thirty of those,” she said. “I’ll be fine.” Emily entered the bathroom and filled a glass with water. She had a Tylenol stuck in her mouth she had to swallow. “We leave in ten, hurry up or I’ll drive there myself.” Sam looked at Dean for a moment.
“Emily-”
“Fine,” Dean said. Sam turned.
“Dean!” he complained.
“What?” Dean answered. “She wants to come, let her come.” Emily swallowed the water. “There’s ground rules, tho,” he continued. “No guns, no action, and if I see you’re not up to it I lock you into the motel and leave you there.” Emily looked at her, accepting a challenge Dean had not issued. She walked down the hallway again and went down the stairs, each step hurting like someone was chewing on her knees. She entered the practice room and grabbed a gun. Dean followed her in and rolled his eyes. “Emily, you-” she interrupted him by loading a gun and shooting at the target. All five bullets she shot went through the carton figure. Dean looked at the target for a moment. “No gun,” he repeated. Emily opened her mouth to complain, but he continued: “Unless necessary.”
“Okay, fine,” Emily said, giving up. No gun was better than staying home, and just like that she felt fourteen again. She looked at Dean and walked back up the stairs.
Emily woke up submerged in freezing water. She gasped, trying to walk out of the bathtub but slipped. Dean rushed into the room.
“What the hell, dude?!” she yelled, finally stepping out of the bathtub.
“You passed out while we were checking in, you were burning up, it was either this or the ER,” Dean said, handing her a towel. Emily wrapped herself in it, shivering, and looked around. They were not in the usual motel. It looked like an actual hotel. She tried to comment on it, but she started hearing a strong, sharp ring in her left ear.
“Ow,” she groaned, sitting on the edge of the bathtub. Dean frowned. “What the fuck was that?” she asked as the sound disappeared.
“What?” Dean asked. Emily looked at him and the ring resumed. It kept going and turned into something similar to telepathy. If telepathy made her neck itch, the ring hurt her entire body, but for a second, she saw another room in the hotel, a man sitting in it. He was writing surrounded by piles of books.
“He’s here,” Emily said, catching her breath. Dean walked inside, concerned. “Metatron’s here, he’s in room 514.”
“I’m gonna call Sam,” Dean said, taking the phone from his pocket. Emily pulled the towel away from around her and dragged it on her face. She could do it. She could manage the rest of the day without passing out again. She walked out of the room, ice water dripping everywhere, and walked to her backpack. She swallowed another Tylenol. It had to do something, right? Dena closed the call with Sam while she was changing out of her wet clothes. “He’s coming back,” he said. Emily nodded. “Kid, I think you should be going to the ER.”
“And what?” Emily complained, struggling against her overalls getting stuck to her skin. “I’m not sick, Dean, this- this can’t be fixed with medicine, okay?” Dean shook his head. “Look, I- I think I know what’s going on,” she explained. “I found it in Kevin’s note while he slept.” Dean looked at her. The door opened and Sam walked in. “There’s a reason my powers are not working anymore,” she explained. “The trials, they- they’re basically purifying me.” Her throat closed for a second, but she cleared it and kept talking. “And I- I don’t feel anything anymore, at least, not like I used to, which means I was right, and the only reason I acted like I did was the demon blood.”
“Emily-”
“Dude, after the second trial, I- I- I just don’t feel like I used to, I’m- I don’t know, it’s like I’m empty.”
“So what, we’re gonna get to meet a new you?” Sam asked, trying to hint at a smile. Emily looked at him and sighed.
“Room 514,” she said, walking past him and out the door.
The closer she got to the room, the louder the ring grew. She could barely stand when she pushed the door open and fell to the ground. When she looked up, Metatron was pointing a rifle at her.
Dean asked something, but Emily couldn’t understand a single word. She moved the rifle away from her face, but the angel pointed it again.
“What?” she asked, looking back at Dean. He helped her stand up and sit down on a chair. She could see their mouths move, but couldn’t hear anything, the ring too loud. “Can you turn the damn thing down?!” she asked. Her brothers and Metatron turned around to look at her, confused. The angel took a few steps back, and Emily took a deep breath, the ring quieting just enough for her to hear.
“You’ve undertaken the trials,” he said. “You get that far along without dying, you start resonating with the Word of God.”
“Well, can you make it stop?!” she asked, massaging her head. Metatron shook his head. “Alright, another ask, you- you wrote it all, right?” she said. You- you wrote the tablets.”
“Of course I did,” Metatron said. “It was the last thing God ever had me write before he left.”
“Cool, I need you to tell me what the third trial is,” Emily said. “And I don’t mean that as an ask, I mean that as in ‘just fucking tell me’, because I’m not gonna go without finishing the damn thing.”
“Afraid I can’t help,” Metatron said. Emily rolled her eyes and stood up. “If you’ve come so far, you must have had the Prophet on your side, what happened to him?”
“He’s dead,” Dean said.
“And don’t tell me another Prophet is gonna turn up because I don’t have the time to wait around,” Emily said. “Literally.”
“Oh my,” Metatron sighed. “Okay, I- I guess I could tell you.” He stood up and walked to a pile of books. As he walked closer to her, the ring became almost unbearable and she felt something wet on the side of her face. She touched it: she was bleeding from her ear. Metatron walked back to the other side of the room and handed Sam a piece of paper.
“Cure a demon?” he read, confused. “Seriously?”
“Yes, exactly,” the angel said. “That is the last trial.”
Emily was starting to think she wasn’t gonna be able to finish the trials. She’d tried raw dogging through the pain, she tried every drug and med ever invented in every dose that was somewhat safe. Castiel even tried healing her. Nothing stuck and nothing made her strong enough to get out there and find Crowley. Because she could not settle for any demon. No, Emily wanted to cure Crowley. Out of principle alone, since Kevin was put through hell because of him, but also, because she probably wasn’t going to get a second chance at icing him. But her body wasn’t gonna give her a first chance, either. She could barely stay awake. She just slept all day, sometimes saw Sam and Dean get in and out of the room. They looked worried, but they never said much. Especially not Sam. What really made her mad was that she was going to die without ever patching things up with him. He kept her away for a whole year while he was in the psych ward, he never even wanted to take a call from her, and she never really got over that. That, and the fact he didn’t want to look for Dean, that he just gave up on him. And he didn’t call her when he got his soul back. It had been a while since they’d sat down to properly talk it out. And she wasn’t gonna get a chance to. She was going to die, and she wasn’t gonna close the gates of hell. What the hell had she done of good, then? She spent her entire life fighting with people, which may or may have been not the demon’s blood’s fault, which she maybe knew, but had chosen to ignore for years because it was easier that way. She even managed to fuck it all up with Kevin to the point she ended up stabbed on the wet floor of a boat. She fucked it up so bad he ended up dead, when the entire plan was for him to survive. That was the whole point, keeping people safe by shutting down hell, and instead, she just managed to get more people killed. Dean entered the room. He looked rushed and he had coffee.
“Emily, wake up,” he said. Emily opened her eyes and looked at him. “Everything’s ready for the third trial.”
“What?” she asked. That was the most awareness she’d had all week. But something about being able to do the trial pushed her to wake up.
“We got Crowley, we got the instructions, you just need to get down there and do it.”
“Dean, I can’t,” she whispered. “It hurts, like- all of it, I- I don’t-”
“I know kid, but you gotta power through, okay? It’s almost over,” Dean said. “You’re gonna be okay, I promise.” Emily didn’t have the strength to question him, correct him or complain. She drank the coffee. “I found some stronger pain meds,” he said, giving her a prescription bottle. “They should help.” Again, she didn’t question it, she just swallowed two of them and tried to stand up. It felt like walking on fire, while her entire body was also on fire, while she was being stung by a billion bees. And if that weren’t enough, she also had to vomit. Somehow, she got into the car and entered a church. The pain meds were doing something, but she wasn’t sure it wasn’t anything good. Dean gave her instructions. She needed purified blood, and that meant confession.
“Dude, I- I never did that,” she said, leaning on the Impala. Sam sat standing a few feet from her, hands in his pockets. “How am I supposed-”
“I mean, I guess you just sit down and… tell god all the shit you’ve done?” Dean said. Emily sighed.
“Kid, just- take some weights off your chest,” Sam explained. “And I guess say sorry.”
“Fine,” she said. She limped to the church, Sam helping her through the door. She sat down on one of the benches. It reminded her of the six months spent in that church with Kevin. It was messy, sure, but it was somehow the best time she’d had in years. There was no impending apocalypse, no big bad guy hunting her down. All she had to do was exist and make sure Kevin ate something. And yeah, maybe he was a pain in the ass at times, but most days everything was painfully normal. And maybe she liked it. But that was not what she wanted to talk about. Not with God or whoever was listening. If anybody was at all.
“Alright, well,” she whispered. “I guess I should start with ‘sorry for not coming to church like- ever’.” Emily looked around. What the hell was she doing? Nobody was listening. Maybe only Crowley on the other side of the church. Her head pulsed with pain and she closed her eyes. “So, I’ve done my fair share of shit,” she continued. “And I know I’m supposed to be sorry for that, but for a lot of it I had good reasons.” Nobody answered if not the wind whistling through a broken window. “I mean, there was the whole… Killing myself thing, but I’d say the real sinners are the ones that drove me to it. Also the cigarettes and- and the pot and the Risperdals I took for months, but that’s… I mean I guess that is my fault.” Emily stopped to think. None of that stuff really mattered to God. “But I guess what you really care about is the fact I opened the gates of hell and look- I- I was a kid, okay? And I didn’t know what I was doing, I- I just wanted my brother back. I… I wish I could pin this on Dean but I think I get it now,” she said. “He was just trying to protect me from what he was feeling and from- from the pain of this job and I hated him for it, but… he was right. You can’t be a kid if you’re gonna be in this life. And I was a kid.” Emily swallowed, her throat closing. “I was just a kid, okay? And- and all this stuff it- it just landed on me and I couldn’t- I couldn't-” Emily dried her face. “I guess he just wanted me to survive and- God-” Emily closed her eyes and held her breath. “I just wanted to be a kid, what- why didn’t I get to do that, uh?!” Emily stared in front of her, crying, for a good minute, looking for something to say that wouldn’t end up in blasphemy. “So I guess I regret doing that, but- I’m just trying to get by, man, I’m doing my best, it’s just- maybe- maybe I’m not cut out to do this job, which is why I keep fucking it up.” She dried her face, waited a moment, then stood up and walked back out. sam was gone.
“Where is he?” Emily asked. Dean tapped his fingers on top of the car.
“Cas called, he- he’s trying to shut down Heaven,” Dean said. Emily frowned.
“And what are you doing here, then?” Emily asked, reaching into the trunk looking for the syringes. “Let’s not drag this out, okay? Let’s just say goodbye and then I’m gonna go finish this thing.” Dean frowned.
“What are you talking about, Emily?” he asked. “Metatron said you’ll be fine once the trials are over.” Emily looked at him for a second.
“No he didn’t,” Emily said. “Dude, the tablet’s very clear about that.”
“What’s it say?” he asked, putting his hands on his waist. “I mean, he wrote ‘em, I think he’d know.”
“Something about having my spine ripped out of me for eternity,” she said. “Which is a fair description of how I feel, honestly.”
“Emily, it’s gonna be fine,” Dean said. “You’re gonna feel better.”
“Okay, assume I believe this, what are you doing here then?” she asked. “If I’m gonna be fine, just go with Sam, close the pearly gates or whatever.” Dean looked away. “I started this alone, I’m gonna finish it alone.”
“No can do, kid, I’m gonn-” Dean’s phone started ringing and he stopped talking. He looked at the message, then at Emily. He swallowed. “I’m gonna stay here with you, okay? What if Crowley sets himself free?”
“Okay,” Emily sighed and tried to lift the wooden box of syringes. Dean moved her out of the way and lifted it himself. He brought it inside the church himself and set it next to Crowley, waking him up.
“Look who’s here,” he said. “Hello, Sheep, I thought you were dying.” Emily ignored him and took a syringe from the box. She stuck it in her arm and drew blood. Just what she needed: losing more blood, because she wasn’t weak enough, right?” She looked at Dean and he nodded. She extracted the needle from her arm and stuck it in Crowley’s neck. Just as she was about to extract it, he bit her on the arm.
“Dude!” she yelled, moving away. “What the hell’s wrong with you?” She rolled her eyes and walked to Dean, who was already rushing towards her. “Can you grab me the first aid kit from my bag?” she asked. Dean nodded and walked towards the door. She placed both hands on the altar and sighed. She had to pace herself. Dean had said a couple doses each hour. Which means she was gonna be there for twelve hours. She could barely stand as it was, and she was gonna lose a lot of blood in the process. Dean came back in and medicated her arm. “Dean, I don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered. He looked at her.
“Yes you can,” he said. “You’re a tough one, okay? You just have to hold on.”
“It hurts,” she said. “I- I don’t-”
“Listen to me,” Dean said. “I know we’ve been fighting each other for all our lives, but I believe in you, okay?” Emily looked away. “You’re not a kid anymore.”
“That’s the point, Dean,” she said. “I never got the chance to be a kid, all I’ve done is fuck everything up and now I’m gonna die and I’m gonna fuck this up, too!”
“Good, get angry,” Dean said. “If that works, fine with me.” Emily rolled her eyes. “You’re not gonna fuck this up, Emily, you’re gonna finish this and you’re gonna send all those bastards back to hell.” Emily didn’t answer. She looked at the clock. Ten more minutes.
“Come on, Sheep, come back!” Crowley called. “I want to get another taste!” Emily ignored him, and also ignored him all the other times he tried to call her over. She looked at the clock and stood up. She drew another dose from her arm and walked over to the demon. “You don’t really think it’s gonna work, do you?” he asked. “Where did you read that, issue six-six-six of Teen Vogue?” Emily looked at him for a second before shoving the syringe in his neck. He screamed.
“Well, obviously it’s working,” she hissed, walking away. She kept going for three hours. Every dose made her more and more lightheaded. Dean’s phone vibrated on the altar. He took the call outside the church. Emily sat on a bench and closed her eyes. They were getting heavier, all she wanted was to go to sleep. She opened her eyes again: she couldn’t pass out. She had to stay awake. Five minutes later, Dean walked back in, putting his jacket back on.
“Kid, we need to talk,” he said, like she couldn’t realize on her own that he was leaving. She listened to the silence of the church: the Impala was already running just outside of it. “Something happened, Sam-”
“Just go,” she whispered. Dean looked at her for a second. “Seriously, I will be fine, okay? I can carry through.” That was a stone cold lie. She could barely stay awake and it looked like Dean knew, based on his face. He looked at her.
“Are you sure?” he asked. But Emily knew he’d already made up his mind. Wouldn’t already have the car started if he hadn’t. She nodded. “You got this, kid,” was the last thing said to her. As he left the church, she couldn't help but think that at least she'd die with something of a good memory of him. She waited until it was time for the following dose, then walked back to Crowley.
“Wow, you look bad,” he said. She ignored him. The church shook like it was an earthquake. “Kinda feel bad for what's about to happen.” She looked at him. The floor board underneath her feet cracked, all the warding Sam and Dean had put in place breaking. “Did you really think you could kidnap me, the King of Hell, and no one was gonna notice?” Crowley asked. “I thought you were supposed to be the smart one.” The church door swung open, the boom echoing through and her ear ringing. A woman entered the church. “Abaddon?” Crowley asked, surprised. Emily frowned. “They told me you were dead.”
“So not,” said Abaddon. Dean told her the same thing. She's dead, don't worry about that. Kevin was her job, and Abaddon was Sam and Dean's, so she’d trusted him on that information. Should have known better. She slowly backed away from Crowley and to the altar. There was a gun there. One with engraved bullets. It was supposed to at least slow Crowley down. But a Knight of Hell? Would it even work? Emily had no choice but to try. She hit the table with her back.
“And the rest of the cavalry?” Crowley asked. Abaddon smirked.
“Oh no,” she said. “It's just old, unkillable me.” Emily extended a hand back to try and get the gun, but Abaddon flinged her hand and she flew across the room. For a second, she lost consciousness. Images were coming in fragments, and pain became unbearable. Through her blurry, fragmented sight, she could see Crowley getting punched, his chair tipping over. Emily tried to stand up but fell on her hands and knees. There was no way the last trial ended like that. If she had to die, she was gonna die closing the gates of hell, not knocked out by Abaddon. She grabbed onto a window ledge and pulled herself up. She had to think. Her brothers had left a lot of supplies, there had to be something. Something that would kill a demon, slow it down, or damage the person they were possessing enough to make them smoke out. Her eyes landed on a jar of holy oil. If holy water damaged them, would holy oil be more effective? Literally deep fry them? She had no better option or idea. She had to try it. She took the oil and slowly- very slowly, made her way towards Abaddon. Her body screamed for mercy, it begged her to stop, it craved death and peace. She stopped a few feet from Abaddon, exhausted. She couldn't get close enough to pour it on her, but who ever said anything about pouring it? She threw the jar across the room, it shattered next to Abaddon's feet, oil splashing up her legs. By the time the knight had turned, Emily already had a match lit. She threw it, too. The oil caught fire, Abaddon's legs burning. She looked at her for a moment before smoking out, the body she was possessing falling limp on the floor. It kept burning. As the smell of burned flesh pervaded the room, Emily walked around the fire and to Crowley. She pulled the chair back up on four feet, then walked back to the altar. She had to take a break. And something for the pain, or she couldn't keep going. Emily reached for the yellow prescription bottle and swallowed one of the pills. She grabbed the syringe and brought it to her arm, legs barely holding her anymore. She walked to Crowley, injected him, and walked back. As she did so, she looked down. All the traps were fucked up. She had to redo them. She wasn't even sure she could stand up for more than the next thirty seconds. She grabbed a spray can and lowered herself on the floor. She dragged herself through the grime that was on the floor, a mix of dirt, holy oil and other substances Emily didn't even wanna start thinking about, and filled the holes in the sygils. All twenty of them, dragging herself on the floor.
“What are you doing, Sheep?” Crowley asked. “And here I was thinking about being grateful to you.” Emily looked at him. Demons were not grateful. Demons didn't have good emotions. They thrived on anger and vengeance. “I was so proud of you until you started doing that.” The damn blood was working. Crowley was turning human or whatever “curing a demon” meant. It was working.
“Thanks, I guess?” Emily sighed. “But did you really think I was gonna let you go?” Crowley looked at her: he seemed seriously hurt.
“We- we just shared a near death experience, don't you- don't you feel closer to me?” Emily frowned, standing back up and walking to draw more blood for the next dose. “I’d say after all this, you should love me more than you love your brothers,” the demon continued. Emily put her hands on her waist. “Those two- Squirrel especially, they don't love you like they should, Sheep, and you know it.” Emily shook her head and drew blood from herself, a huge blue and purple bruise forming in her arm. Her face tingled. She was losing way too much blood. But it was supposed to be two more doses. And that was it. “You deserve better, Emily, okay? Because you deserve to be loved sometimes and- and I, too- I-” Emily grabbed Crowley’s hair and pulled his face away from her, shoving the syringe in. The demon screamed.
“Dude, shut up,” Emily sighed. “I already have a headache.” Emily looked back on the altar. There were no more syringes. She must have miscounted the doses. She was done. All she had to do was read the spell and spill some blood. She could handle that, right? Emily walked to the altar and took the sticky note on which the spell was noted. She looked at it and went to brush her eyes: she couldn't make out half of it. It looked a lot like Kevin's chicken scratch.
“Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus,” that part she could make out. “Hanc animal- ani- animas?” Fuck. Let's start over.
Kevin ran towards the church. He probably had a couple of hours before Sam caught up with him. Sneaking out of the Bunker had been a hard task, Sam was really careful. But not careful enough, not when Kevin tricked him into checking out all the rooms trying to figure out how to fix the internet. Emily was standing in front of Crowley, looking like she was going to collapse any second. She was holding a sticky note in her hand, the same note he wrote for Dean that morning. She was looking at it, mumbling something under her breath, probably trying to understand what he'd written. He wasn't too late: he could still save her.
“Emily, stop!” he called and Emily almost fell to the floor. Her eyes widened in surprise.
“Seriously?!” Emily narrowed her eyes. “Hallucinations? Oh, come on!” she shook her head. “I'm already dying, give me a break!”
“Yeah, you are,” Kevin said, walking towards her. “And I'm trying to stop it, so-” Emily ignored him and turned away to grab a knife from the altar. He rushed towards her. “No, no no no, stop, wait!” he said, trying to hold her hands apart. Emily ignored him as she shoved him away. “I'm not-”
“Leave me alone!” yelled Emily. “I know I fucked it all up with him- No need to rub it in my fucking face while I fucking die!” Kevin took a step back. Jesus Christ, Emily.
“Emily, you have to listen to me,” he said. “I'm not dead and you didn't fuck it up, you-”
“He was supposed to be my responsibility, and he died because I was too weak to help him!” she yelled, looking closest at the sticky note. “No one else is dying! Nobody!” Emily took a deep breath. She started reading the exorcism again, but stopped a few words in. “Goddamnit!”
“Emily, I'm- I'm not dead!” Kevin said. “Crowley got me, but I'm here now, okay?” Emily shook her head and tried reading the exorcism again.
“Stop,” she said. “Am I not in enough pain already?!” She looked up and lost balance and Kevin helped her stay upright.
“I'm gonna get you out of here,” said Kevin. “Come on now,”
“No,” Emily pushed him away and fell forward on her knees. “Fuck- Leave me alone!” she yelled. Kevin helped Emily stand back up. He put his hands on her shoulders.
“Look at me,” he said. Emily dried her face and looked away, stubbornly trying to hide her tears. “You don't have to die for this, okay?” he said. “You can survive, and you can keep going, and you can, I don't know, keep watching all your stupid musicals,” A smile came through Emily's breath as she dried her face. “And we could be… what was it? Paranormal Ellen and Ernie,”
“You mean Elle and Emmet?” she whispered. “God, even if you're not real you're still a big fat idiot,”
“Let me get you to the hospital,” said Kevin. “Please,” Emily looked at him for a long moment where Kevin thought she was going to say yes, but then, she shoved his hands away.
“No, you- You're not real! And I have to do this!” She turned and gasped, scared. “Seriously?!” she yelled. Kevin looked around. There was nobody else. “You, too?”
“Emily,” Kevin called. But she didn't move.
“I don't want to go!” she yelled. “I-” She stopped talking and rolled her eyes. “Don't quote Heathers to me, okay?! Why does everybody always-” Emily stopped in her tracks and turned. She looked at Kevin, realising he wasn't a hallucination. But before she could say anything, she fell to the floor.
Seventeen (reprise)
from Heathers The Musical
“How did you guys know I was in trouble?” she asked, throwing her bag on the Bunker table. Dean stopped walking and turned to look at her. “What?”
“You- you don't remember?” he asked, taking off his jacket. Emily bit her hospital bracelet and tore it apart.
“Remember what? I was doing the last trial, I passed out, woke up in the hospital,” she said. Sam came down the stairs and into the library holding a cup of coffee. Dean looked at her, then at Sam.
“What’s going on?” he asked. Dean put his hands on his waist as Sam handed Emily the coffee.
“Seems like we’re having some trouble with the memory side of things,” Dean said. Sam frowned and looked behind him. Emily brought the cup to her lips.
“Sam, dude!” called Kevin’s voice. “Weren’t we supposed to go to the hospital?” Emily spat out the coffee back into the cup, hot liquid falling on her hand. “Why are we still-” Kevin walked into the room and stopped. His eyes widened in surprise looking at her. “Oh, that’s why,” he said. Emily put the cup down on the table and dried her hand on her overalls. It came back to her. Him showing up, her thinking he was a hallucination, and then a long, bumpy drive.
“Jesus Christ, you’re a horrible driver,” was the first thing she could say. Kevin laughed. “What the hell happened to you?!”
“Crowley tried to get me,” he said. “Got out, figured out where you were.”
“Do I need to change my passwords again?” Emily asked, putting her hands on her waist.
“Sorry,” Kevin shrugged. Sam walked past Emily and towards Dean, and muttered something about needing to go on a food run, despite Dean having just walked back into the Bunker. Emily rolled her eyes. “So,” Kevin said, looking at Sam and Dean disappear outside the door again. “I got nothing to do, you wanna grab a beer?”
Emily placed the last Christmas decoration in the Bunker and took a step back. Not bad for having stuck a bunch of one dollar decorations to the wall. At least it looked like it was actually almost Christmas. She bent down to check on the cookies, decided they were done, and turned off the oven.
“What are you making?” asked Kevin, walking inside the kitchen just as Emily was taking the tray out. “Oooh, cookies,” he said. “Can I have one?”
“They're hot,” Emily said. “I'd give it a couple of hours.” Kevin opened the fridge and poured himself some eggnog. “So, you done with the angel tablet for today?” He nodded. “If we hurry up we can finish the damn Harry Potter movies before the new year,” she said. Kevin opened a cabinet and took a pack of chocolate popcorn. She followed him to his room. Kevin closed the door behind them and turned on the TV. He struggled to work the DVD remote for a second as Emily flopped on his bed and opened the popcorns. The movie started and Kevin walked back to his bed. Since she'd come back to the Bunker they had been spending more and more time together and she was starting to realize that, for the first time since Emily had become a hunter, she didn't have to fake anything. She could be herself and she could tell him stuff about herself without risking it becoming a problem. Kevin knew who she was, he knew about her powers and about Hell. And yet, he treated her like a normal human being. But hanging out together most days didn't come without a price: there was also that other thing. Actually, several other things that had happened in the weeks following her return to the Bunker. It had started with a movie night. Nothing weird, nothing they hadn't done before, with the difference that in the Bunker there were actual beds, and what are you going to do, watch a movie while sitting on a chair when you have a bed? No, of course not. One of those nights, she fell asleep. The movie was just too bad to stay awake, and at some point she closed her eyes and opened them four hours later. Kevin was sleeping, too. Which wouldn't have been a problem if their arms and legs were tangled in ways Emily couldn't explain. How the hell does one hug another person while sleeping? And if at first she thought it might have just been a coincidence, that it just happened, she had to take that back with herself the following week. And then another time two weeks after that. And then it somehow became normal. Not that either her nor Kevin ever talked about it. It wasn't like they were waking up together in the morning: Emily would usually wake up first and sneak away to have breakfast. But Kevin knew what was happening, of course he did. She could see it in the increasing awkwardness every time a movie started. Not only did he know, he was planning his next move. Said next move landed that day, when Emily felt something touch her hand. She didn't look down, terrified that it might be exactly what she thought it was: Kevin's hand. Emily moved her hand away, pretending to reach for a handful of popcorn she really didn't want, but she still wanted them more than whatever Kevin was trying to do. She shoved the popcorn in her mouth and took a deep breath. That was what she was supposed to feel, right? She'd always been someone to work on a sex-only basis, so holding hands was not something she did. It wasn't something she wanted. So why did it actually sound… nice? When half an hour later she felt Kevin's hand touch hers again, she didn't move. It took all her willpower not to do so, because every muscle in her body was begging her to run to another fucking country and never see him again. But then, it started feeling kind of nice. Almost… safe? Emily let go of Kevin's hand and sat straighter in the bed. There was no space for feeling safe in her life. Feeling safe meant letting her guard down and hunters who did that usually ended up dead pretty quickly. When the movie ended, they started at the main menu screen for a few minutes before Kevin stood up and ejected the DVD. What the hell was she going to do? Leaning into it didn't feel right, but full on rejecting him didn't feel right, either, for some reason. She did like him, just probably not in the way he liked her: she could ignore that, get some sex out of him, and hope it didn't escalate into drama. Was that risk worth it for sex that was probably less than mediocre? Maybe not, but also, why would she have not minded if the sex sucked? That had never happened before.
“Are you listening to me?” asked Kevin, putting the DVD back in its pile. Emily looked at him, raised from her thoughts.
“What?” she asked, dragging her hands on her overalls to get rid of the popcorn crumbs.
“I asked if you want to watch the sixth one,” Kevin said, waving the Harry Potter and the Half-blood Prince DVD at her.
“Actually,” Emily sighed. She was about to come up with an excuse. Refuse. Leave. Think it through. But then her mouth moved faster than she could control it. “You know what, sure, let's watch it.” Kevin pulled out another DVD from the pile, opened the cover and slid the disc into the player. She promised herself not to fall asleep, but still did. That movie was a travesty. She woke up at two in the morning when Kevin stood up to go turn off the TV. “Oh, God, sorry,” she grunted, one eye still closed. “I keep falling asleep during these.”
“It's fine,” Kevin said, glaring back at her. “I was going to sleep too.” Emily closed her eye and fell deeper into the mattress. A few minutes later, she felt Kevin's hand on hers. She just let it happen. Not a single thought went through her brain when they started holding hands, not even when she tried to find a more comfortable position and she found herself with her back pressed against his chest. She just kept falling in and out of sleep until at some point her body gave up and she fell asleep. She woke up at lunch time and panicked. That never happened. She'd been waking up at six for a decade, no exceptions, no special circumstances, her body just woke up at that time, even if that only meant two hours of sleep. How the hell did she sleep in so late? Kevin wasn't in the bed, so she stood up and walked to the kitchen. Sam was making lunch for himself.
“Well look who's finally awake,” he smirked. Emily looked at him and ignored him. “Never seen you wake up at this time, stayed up a little late?”
“We were watching a movie, stop doing that with your face,” she said, pointing at him.
“You know, we have a projector room with chairs and a big ass screen,” Sam said. “You don't need to be in anybody's bed to watch a movie.”
“I'm gonna ignore you,” Emily said, opening the fridge just to find it empty. “Dude, where's all the food?”
“Dean and Kevin went for a food run,” Sam said. “They should be back any minute now.” Emily looked at Sam for a moment, trying to process. “What?”
“Kevin is with Dean?” she asked. Sam nodded. “Jesus Christ,” she sighed.
“I bet he's trying to help you out at this very moment,” Sam said. Emily dragged a hand through her face and then reached for the coffee pot.
“Help me with what?” she asked. Sam sat down at the table and stabbed his salad with his fork.
“Come on, you know with what,” he answered. Emily crossed her arms. “Emily, you obviously like the guy!”
“I-” Emily scoffed. “I do not!”
“Are you sure?” Sam asked with a smirk. Emily took a sip of her coffee and turned on the kitchen hood. She lit up a cigarette, earning a look of disapproval from Sam. “I mean, he definitely likes you.”
“Okay, but I am not going to risk my life and his life for it, you know what I mean?” she said. “And also I just said I don't like him!”
“He doesn't seem to mind risking his life for you given all the stunts he's pulled the last year,” Sam said. Emily shook her head. “So is this what this is about? The old ‘hunters can't have a life’ thing?”
“It's about the fact I don't like him, okay? Get that through your head!” Sam looked behind him and sat straighter in his chair, clearing his voice. Goddamnit. Emily turned, saw Kevin, and took the split second decision to pretend he did not just hear what she'd said. “Hey,” she said, pulling out the most natural smile she could and taking a puff of her cigarette. “I was making coffee, you want some?”
“Uh,” Kevin hesitated and looked to his right. Dean walked past him and into the kitchen with a bag full of groceries. “No, I- I have to- uh-” He hesitated and looked at Dean. “Actually that sounds good, but I- I have to go back to the tablet, so…” Emily moved the cigarette under the hood and poured Kevin a cup of coffee with her free hand. She handed it to him. “Thanks,” Kevin tried to smile but his face didn’t comply. He took the coffee and disappeared outside the kitchen. Emily turned towards Sam and sighed. Her instincts went to telepathy, in knowing full well he knew exactly what she was feeling regardless of what she said: she knew she shouldn’t have cared. But something was eating away at her. Sam didn’t bat an eye. He didn’t scratch his neck, and that was when she realized. She might have been better, but her powers were not back. The trials purified her, and that meant no more demon blood. No more demon blood meant no more powers.
“What’s going on?” Sam asked. And Emily hated that he even had to ask. He’d never had to ask for the previous decade.
“Nothing,” she whispered. “I- I’m gonna go get myself some lunch.”
The day passed, and Kevin avoided her for the good part of it, but then knocked on her door. She opened the door with a joint lit between her fingers. He frowned for a second, then cleared his voice.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey,” she answered, turning the joint off on the ashtray. “What’s going on?”
“Uh- nothing, I- I’m done with the tablet for the day, so I was wondering if you wanted to do something.” Emily sighed. “Or not, it’s fine.”
“No, of course-” Emily took a deep breath. “What did you have in mind?”
“I mean, Dean said we have a projector room, so maybe we can go there and see if there’s something interesting to watch,” Kevin said. Emily huffed.
“Dude, it’s- it’s videos of people getting exorcised or experimented on, they’re not movies,” she explained. Kevin crossed his arms. Oh for fucks’ sake, Emily. “But I guess we can hook my laptop up and use the projector to watch a movie.”
“Yeah, uh-” Kevin cleared his voice again. “Sure.”
Kevin never mentioned what she’d said that morning. Life kept running, more or less smoothly, a couple of cases came and went by and somehow Emily ended up spending way more nights in Kevin’s room than in her own. It had gotten so bad Sam and Dean never came knocking on her door anymore, they just knocked on Kevin’s because they knew she’d be there. And if they weren’t in his room, they were in the library. She had to admit, it had been a long time since she’d let someone get that close, but it was for a good reason. Reasons Emily could still remember, every single time she stepped out the Bunker for a case, but that she was, for reasons unknown even to her, choosing to ignore. She couldn’t explain it to herself, she didn’t have a word for it, and she knew it had been in the back of her head for a long time, but dying on the job somehow sounded better than never talking to Kevin again. As she thought that, lying awake in bed at five AM, a shiver went down her spine. She’d never told Sam or Dean about what happened in that room. Of the nights spent holding hands in silence, not finding the courage to say anything at all. She’d always lied straight to their faces, and always told them nothing was happening. And finally, after years of having Sam looking through her brain, she could lie and get away with it. But at the same time, Sam not knowing didn’t feel right: Sam always knew everything, even when she hated him, even when they were fighting, even when she didn’t want him to know, he still knew. And maybe somehow he still did, since exactly while she was debating with herself whether to tell him or not, he knocked on the door. She walked to the door and opened it.
“I was gonna go for a run,” he whispered. “Wanna come?” Emily nodded and closed the door behind her. She walked to her room and stripped out of her old t-shirt. “So…” Sam said, smirking. “Couldn’t help but notice you slept in his room, again.”
“Yeah,” Emily sighed. “But I know what you want to know and no, no sex is happening,” Sam frowned. “It would be kinda gross to do it with you next door.”
“That’s… not what I was thinking,” he said. “But come on, something has to be happening.” And there it was, the opening for her to finally confess. But how to explain it? She didn’t even have a word to describe what she was feeling, how could she explain it to someone else? Telepathy was so much easier with those things. She wouldn’t have had to know, it would have been enough for Sam to feel it to understand it.
“Well,” she sighed. “And I’m not saying I’m on board, but yeah, maybe.” Sam’s eyes lit up. “Oh, Jesus Christ,” Emily groaned, hopping past him while wearing one sneaker. “You’re way too happy about this, you know hunters are not supposed to have… stuff happening.”
“And what is ‘stuff’ exactly?” Sam asked, walking towards the stairs. Emily followed him.
“You’re not supposed to let people get too close, because they usually get killed,” she said. “And I’d like for Kevin not to get killed.”
“Yeah, okay, I get that, but I know you, there’s something you’re not telling me,” Sam opened the Bunker door and stepped outside. He started to stretch and Emily did the same.
“I’m gonna tell you, but please don’t tell Dean,” she sighed. “He’s gonna make a mess of this.”
“My lips are sealed, kid,” Sam said. Emily took a deep breath and grabbed her ankles to pull her chest towards her legs. She looked at Sam upside down, through her legs.
“We’ve been… holding hands,” she said, rolling her eyes. Sam frowned.
“That’s it?”
“Yeah, dude, I told you nothing much was happening,” she complained, moving to stretch one leg. “And we haven’t talked about it, just like we haven’t talked about anything else.”
“So you… never talked about the fact he drove a hundred miles to save your life?” Sam asked. Emily shook her head. “Or how you yelled to his face that you didn’t like him and then proceeded to hold hands with him?” Emily shook her head again. “Wow, this thing’s gonna explode.”
“There’s no thing, so it can’t explode,” Emily said. Sam huffed, a small cloud of condensation appearing in front of him, and started jogging. Emily followed him.
“Don’t you think you and Kevin holding hands is a thing?” he asked.
“It’s not,” Emily said. “I mean, we know he likes me I- I just haven’t-” Her shoes crackled against the gravel as she jogged her way next to Sam. “I need to figure out what it is, okay?” Sam frowned and didn’t answer.
“So…” Sam said half a mile later. “You do have feelings for Kevin, do you admit it?”
“I don’t know what I have, dude,” Emily complained.
“I bet you do,”
“And I bet I can get to Starbucks faster than you and if I do you have to buy me coffee,” she said, jogging fast enough to get ahead of Sam and running backwards to look at him.
“Okay, but if you lose, we talk about this for real,” Sam said. Emily smirked.
“Oh, you’re so on, Sam Winchester.”
Emily and Sam walked back into the Bunker holding two very fancy coffees, paid for by Sam. Dean was right on time in complaining:
“Where the hell have you two been?” he asked, walking into the library. “And why are you out running?” He pointed to Emily. She rolled her eyes. “You just got vertical- don’t push it, okay?”
“Okay, dad,” she mocked. As Emily walked down the stairs, she noticed Kevin at the opposite end of the table, trying to read the angel tablet. She placed her coffee next to him. “Got you something,” she said. Sam looked at her and smirked. She crumpled a piece of paper from the table and threw it to him. Kevin looked at her, then at Sam, then at the coffee, confused.
“Thanks?” he said. “Why are we hitting Sam?”
“Because he’s an idiot,” Emily answered. Kevin shrugged, crumpled another piece of paper and also threw it at Sam. He tried to hit them back, but they dodged. “Let me know if you want to have a break later, okay? I’ll go check on Crowley.” Emily took a step away, her hand going from one of Kevin's shoulders to the other. “You didn’t speak with him, did you?” she asked.
“Nope,” said Kevin, still looking at the tablet. “You said to stay away and I stayed away.”
Emily opened the doors to the dungeon. “Hello beautiful,” she joked. Crowley picked his head up and quickly regained his cocky expression. He’d been stuck in their dungeon ever since the third trial, and Emily had been trying to get information - any information out of him, with little to no results.
“Well, if it isn’t my favorite Winchester,” the demon said. “The one that dresses like she’s about to go pick strawberries.” He nodded towards her overalls.
“Are you sure that’s the insult you’re going with?” she asked, confused. “Not even going to call me names?”
“I could do it, but I don’t think there’s anything I can call you that Dean- or yourself- hasn’t called you already,” Crowley said with a smirk. Emily shook her head.
“I see you feel chatty,” she said. “What about some of the info we asked you for?”
“Nah,” Crowley said and shrugged. “Sorry, don’t feel like it.”
“Alright,” she said. “Keep playing tough. We both know that’s just a cover.”
“Or is it?” the demon said, smiling. Emily crossed her arms.
“What, already forgot? I was there when you were begging for some love,” she said. “You’re just a little man who needs a hug, and we both know that.”
“Why are you describing yourself?” Emily punched him.
“God, I love doing that,” she whispered to herself. Crowley smirked. “Something funny?”
“It’s just funny to see you trying to play the part now that the demon blood’s gone,” he said. “You’re changing, aren’t you?” Emily crossed her arms. “Experiencing new feelings, feeling more… human?” She looked at him, then walked out the dungeon, turned off the light and locked the door.
Emily woke up on Christmas morning. The DVD logo was bouncing around the screen. Emily reached for the remote and turned it off. She checked the time: five AM. Not a single sound through the Bunker, the outside of which was probably covered in snow. Emily dragged her hands across her face and sighed. She'd fallen asleep in Kevin's room, again. She sat up in bed and looked around. How did the movie end? She must have fallen asleep before she could see it. She stood up and walked out the room, where Sam was passing by with a cup of coffee.
“Morning,” he said, stopping in the middle of the hallway. “I didn't expect you to see up already.”
“Why?”
“I heard you and Kevin hang out until quite late,” Sam answered. Emily shrugged.
“I fell asleep before the movie ended, so…” Sam smirked. “Oh, come on… Can we like- not? You say you heard us, so you know nothing happened.” Dean appeared through a door.
“That's point, kid- why has nothing happened yet?” he asked. Emily rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on- he's obviously into you! And you're obviously into him, so- what's the big deal?”
“Can we not?” she asked. “At least not on Christmas? Leave me be, okay?” Dean showed him his hands, surrendering, and Sam continued walking through the hallway. “Why are you up so early?”
“Got a case,” he said. Emily frowned.
“On Christmas?” she complained. “It couldn’t wait another day?”
“Nope,” Dean said. “I assume you will be okay hanging out with Kevin for a couple days? All alone?” Emily scoffed.
“Are you doing this on purpose? It’s Christmas, dude, why are you even taking a case?”
“Huge demon case down south,” Dean explained. “Time sensitive.”
“And why are you going without me?!” she asked. “You are doing this on purpose!”
“No, actually- I need you to work on finding Cas,” Dean said. “You and Kevin can be study buddie-” Emily hit the back of Dean’s head. “Ouch!”
“Will you stop?!” she yelled. She looked around, realizing she was gonna wake Kevin up. “What is your problem?!”
“Nothing, I just thought you’d rather be up here doing some research since you’re still getting back into shape!”
“I am in perfect shape,” Emily hissed. “You’re just playing cupid!” Dean crossed his arms and smirked. “Dean!”
“Okay, maybe I am, but come on, kid! I haven’t seen you have any fun in ages!” he said. “I’m doing this for you!” Emily rolled her eyes.
“You know what?” she sighed. “Do whatever you want, but I can guarantee you, nothing is going to happen. Like- ever!”
“Fine, have it your way,” Dean shrugged. “But if you need condoms I left a box in your room.”
“You-” Emily’s mouth stopped working for a second, trying to process what Dean was saying. She stopped trying to answer and just went to the kitchen.
She was sitting in the library trying to pick up a trail for Castiel. She‘d been staring at her computer for hours looking through camera footage to the point all faces looked the same. A phone started ringing. She reached for hers, dragging a hand through her eyes, but found that it wasn’t ringing: it was Kevin’s phone. He was sitting on the other side of the table, surrounded by notes on the angel tablet. He picked up the call and put it on speaker.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey boss, uh… we got a little problem here,” said Dean’s voice. Emily and Kevin exchanged a confused look.
“Boss?” Kevin’s voice echoed through the library as Emily sighed. Maybe it was one of Dean’s jokes. Or maybe it was an attempt at having something happen. Either way, she didn’t like the direction it was going.
“Yeah, just a local badge needs confirmation we’re supposed to be here,” said Dean. Okay, maybe not a joke. Maybe they needed Kevin to do what Bobby had done a hundred times: pretend to be their boss. And if that was the case, Dean had probably chosen the worst liar on the planet. “How the word came down from FBI headquarters in DC.” Kevin frowned.
“Wait, what?” he asked. Emily went back to looking through footage.
“Yeah,” Dean said. Kevin looked at Emily and reached for her laptop. He turned it towards him. She tried to complain but he gestured at her not to speak. He started typing.
“This is Sargent Miranda Bates, who am I talking to?” asked a feminine voice, replacing Dean’s on the phone.
“Uh-Kevin,” Kevin hesitated. Emily gestured at him to keep talking. “Kevin Solo.” Emily pinched her nose. They just finished rewatching Star Wars. Of course he had to go for the most unrealistic name ever. The feminine voice huffed.
“How old are you?” she asked. Kevin took a deep breath and sat straighter on the chair. Emily crossed her arms.
“Old enough,” he answered. “And I’m with the FBI, so you have to do what I say.” Emily felt her stomach tightening and her face get warm.
“Listen, kid, I don't have to do anything,” said the voice on the phone. Kevin kept typing on the laptop. “And I don't take orders from the Feebs, so unless you can give me one good reason you got a couple of pretty-boy agents poking around my crime scene, I'm gonna put them in cuffs and spank your ass raw, understand?” Kevin stopped typing and raised his eyebrows. He leaned back on his chair. That feeling, Emily could recognize.
“Cabo, last june,” Kevin said. The phone stayed silent for a moment before the woman answered.
“What?” she asked.
“That’s my reason,” explained Kevin. “My favorite is you in a sombrero doing a body shot off some naked guy in a Luchador mask.” he smirked. “Super classy.”
Emily took a deep breath and stood up. For the first time in a long time, she looked at Kevin and felt something that she recognized. That was sexual. That was sexual and she needed to walk away so it could stop.
“How did you find that?” asked the woman.
“'Cause I'm Kevin freaking Solo,” Kevin said. Emily stood up so fast she hit her knee on the table. She cursed under her breath, trying to walk away under Kevin’s confused eyes. He stopped for a moment to look at her, then continued. “So unless you want this forwarded to your commanding officer, Major Velasquez, I suggest you give my guys anything you want. Understand?” Okay, that’s my cue, Emily thought, making a run for the door. Fuck, she’d forgotten her cigarettes.
“Yes,” said the woman. Emily grabbed her cigarettes off the table.
“Yes, sir,” Kevin answered. Jesus fucking Christ. Emily rushed towards the stairs, but Kevin had already closed the call.
“Where are you going?” he asked. Emily froze. She turned.
“Uh-” she hesitated. “Cold shower.” Kevin frowned, confused. “You know, they- they say it’s good for your health-” She fumbled.
“The bathroom’s the other way,” he said. Emily looked at him, then at the Bunker door.
“Yeah, uh- cigarette, then- then shower,” she said. “And then…” What she said next, she didn’t know why she did say it. It came out of her mouth like someone else was controlling her body. Or maybe it was her body telling her Dean’s right, you haven’t had fun in a long time. “And then I think I’m gonna go out, you know- uh- hit the bar, maybe crash a party?” You should go and have fun. “Want to tag along?” Oh for fucks’s sake, Emily. She immediately regretted her words.
“Yeah-” Kevin smiled. “What’s a fake ID good for if we never use it, right?” Right, the bastard isn’t even old enough to drink. She nodded and continued her escape to the outside of the Bunker. She dialed Sam’s number. He answered right away.
“Hey, everything okay?” he asked. Emily lit up her cigarette, hands shaking.
“Yeah,” she said, nervous. “I mean, I- I don’t know- something just happened.”
“What?” he asked, a hint of worry in his voice. “Are you okay?”
“Uh- Maybe- Maybe Dean’s right,” she said. Sam maintained a confused silence. “Maybe I do need to have fun.”
“I’m not following you,” Sam said.
“With Kevin,” she hissed, bringing the cigarette to her lips.
“Oh,” said Sam. “Wait- why? We just got off the phone with him, what’s going on?”
“That’s the problem,” she explained. “He did something- it’s doing a number on me.” She heard Sam chuckle. “It’s not funny!”
“What? You called me to ask for help with your crush?” he said, louder. Emily rolled her eyes as he heard Dean’s voice in the background.
“What’s going on Emily, I thought nothing was going to happen,” he said.
“Guys, Jesus-” she groaned. “Will you two stop making fun of me and help me?” asked Emily. “Please?”
“Dude, you have the house to yourselves, just go for it.” said Sam. Emily scoffed.
“No, Sam- I’m not-” she looked around and lowered her voice. “I’m not doing that!”
“Why not?” asked Dean.
“Because I don’t want to!” The phone stayed silent for a few seconds. “Okay, maybe I do but you know what I mean!” she complained.
“I can’t believe it,” Sam laughed. “You’re crushing so hard on the guy I can practically hear the tires screeching.”
“Shut up,” said Emily. “Please- what do I do? Like, for real! I’m not- We obviously want different things!”
“Well, there’s only one solution then, right?” said Sam. Emily remained silent for a second, waiting for an explanation. “Emily?”
“What’s the solution?” asked Emily, nervous.
“If you’re sure it’s not gonna work, just- keep things friendly,” said Sam. Emily rolled her eyes. “Don’t complicate it.”
What the heck I gotta do
From 21 Chump Street
Don’t complicate things, don’t get too involved- it was too damn late. Emily had already invited Kevin out for the night and he didn’t exactly have a high alcohol tolerance, which made things unpredictable enough for Emily to be nervous. Kevin showed up in a white shirt, which wouldn’t have been funny if he hadn’t buttoned it all the way to the top.
“What the hell are you wearing?” she asked with a huff. Kevin looked at himself, confused. “Come here.” She gestured at him to come closer. Kevin took a step forward and Emily unceremoniously yanked the shirt out of his jeans before unbuttoning the first two buttons. “We’re going to get wasted, not to the opera,” she explained. Kevin didn’t say anything. He looked at her, their noses brushing against each other as she leaned over to open the first button of his shirt. “What?” she asked. Kevin shook his head. “Come on, spit it out.”
“No, really- nothing.” Emily adjusted her dress, which was riding up her thighs, then looked at Kevin as he looked away. “I know, I’m basically naked,” she sighed. “Trust me, I also wish I wasn't.”
“Wh- I haven't-”
“Please don't make it worse,” she begged, already walking away. She wasn't sure why she'd opted for the dress. She had never bothered dressing up for college parties. Not even her first party, when she lost her virginity, she was dressed up. But that dress had hung in the closet for so long she’d forgotten she had it, and that sounded like the right time. She had only one mission for the night: have fun with someone that wasn’t Kevin, get it out of her system, and then find a way to bring her and Kevin back on the just-friends side of things. She looked at him as he played with the buttons on his shirt. “I know what you need.” Emily smirked. Kevin frowned and visibly blushed. “We need to pregame this.” Kevin suddenly raised his eyebrows, more confused than before. “That’s right, we’ll have a drink before we go out,” she explained, walking towards the kitchen. “So when we get to the bar, we’re already tipsy.” Kevin started following her.
“Why would we do that?” he asked.
“We need to blend in,” she said. “Nobody’s gonna know who we are, but if we’re already drunk it will look like we’ve been there a while- which means we’re somebody’s friends.”
“Alright,” Kevin took a deep breath. “How tipsy are we talking about?”
“Just enough,” she explained. “And maybe…” Emily said, walking into the kitchen. “Maybe we can find you a nice college girl…” She poured some liquor in a glass and bit the inside of her cheek. “And you can have some fun and relax a little.” Kevin frowned.
“Why do you sound like Dean?” he asked. Emily huffed and handed him a drink. He took it and looked at it, silent.
“Trust me,” she said. “It never fails.”
“I don’t know, I’m- I’m not in the mood.” answered Kevin. Emily stopped pouring the second drink to look at him.
“Trust me, we find the right drink- you’ll be in the mood,” she said. Emily drank the gin she already poured and turned around to get the shot glasses Dean had decided to buy one random Tuesday morning and never used. She lined them up in front of Kevin.
“You said tipsy, right?” he asked, looking at the glasses.
“Don’t worry, we’re sharing these,” she said, opening up a bottle of whiskey. “Welcome to college, Kevin from Advanced Placement.” One by one, Emily and Kevin made their way through the shots. Emily felt fine, but Kevin was clearly already way beyond tipsy. Emily climbed up the stairs and when she turned around, Kevin was still at the bottom of them. “You good?”
“Oh, yeah-” he said, losing his balance to the right. Emily smiled and walked back down. “Maybe we should stay home,” he said, trying to look sober but failing so miserably it was almost painful to watch. Then, a question left Emily’s lips without her even thinking about it, that made her almost throw up everything she’d drank.
“And do what? We’re already drunk,” she said. Kevin smirked.
“I‘ll gladly do y-” Emily stopped him by pushing him up the stairs.
“Oookay-” she said, opening the door. “Let’s go get me drunk so I can forget what you just said.”
And so they went to the bar. And then another. And another. At one point- though Emily wasn’t too sure when and how- they agreed to go to a frat party. She taught a very- very drunk Kevin to play beer pong and then started playing as his wingman. She’d point out girls for him to hit on. And with every girl she saw him talk to, she made herself another drink. But it didn’t matter how drunk she was, she knew that was how it was supposed to be. Get some distance, that was the point. It couldn’t hurt for him to have fun, too. Emily could ignore all the signs that said he probably couldn't care less about all those girls, ignore her liver slowly eating itself every time Kevin talked to one of them. She could, right? She watched him almost score a senior, just to get shot down for a frat boy and then walk back towards her.
“You gave it your best shot,” said Emily, getting closer to Kevin’s ear to talk over the music. Having an excuse to get so close to him felt - and maybe it was the alcohol talking - way too good to stop there. “How you feeling, need some happy juice?” Kevin nodded. What the hell was she doing? She was way too drunk. She moved away from Kevin and passed him her cup and looked around. “Look,” she said. “Shortie, looks awkward-” She nodded in front of her where a girl that looked very out of place was standing. “I guarantee if you get her a drink and chat her up in a quieter room you’ll be under her shirt in no time!” Kevin straightened back up and finished the drink.
“Alright-” he yelled. “I’m gonna go get some!” He moonwalked into the crowd and disappeared. Emily’s smile vanished and she walked to get another drink. Walking around, she found the stoners huddled up in a corner and chatted one of them up enough to get invited to smoke. It wasn't hard, the dude was a developer. Probably never talked to a woman before. She just had to fake interest and touch his arm. With some drugs in the system, Emily was able to relax for exactly ten minuted before Kevin came back to look for her. He sat down and was about to grab the joint too, but she stopped him.
“Kevin- we’re trying to destress, not kill you!” she said, taking one last puff and handing the joint back to the developer guy. He probably had a name, but Emily hadn’t paid enough attention. “How did it go with the girl?”
“Got some over the shirt action- but she got uncomfortable real quick,” he said. “And I’m a gentleman.” Emily looked at him and huffed.
“Clearly,” she said, standing up. She should have stayed away. She knew. But the feeling of being that close to him- she wanted to feel it again. Maybe the weed had not been a good idea.
“I think I’m starting to have fun,” Kevin said. Emily smiled. “I think I’m going to go dance, do you want to come?”
“Why not,” said Emily with a shrug. Why not?! she thought. There’s at least a thousands reason not to! But still, she followed Kevin in the most crowded part of the house. Pop music was blasting through the speakers. She looked at Kevin's dance moves and chuckled.
“Dude, you-” She placed a hand on his shoulder and dangled her head between her shoulders. “What even are those moves?” Kevin's dancing slowed down almost to a halt, self consciousness dropping onto him. “Don't worry- nobody's looking at us.” she said, leaning closer to him.
“Actually-” Kevin's eyes quickly scanned the room. “Actually a lot of people are looking at us.”
“Ignore them,” said Emily. “They're not judging your dancing, they're looking at my ass.”
“Oh,” Kevin frowned. He kept looking around the room. Don’t look at them, for fuck’s sake, I’m right here.
“Happens,” she said, leaning closer. “Important thing is they just look.” Emily grabbed one of Kevin's hands and put it on her waist. He looked at her, a hint of panic in his eyes. “This is a party,” she said. “It can't look like a recon mission, can it?” She scanned the room with her eyes, but felt Kevin's eyes fixed on her. “So, I see a girl over there, she's alone,” she said. “Maybe you can go try your luck.” Kevin cleared his voice.
“Alright-” he said. “Juice me up.” Emily turned towards a table filled with red cups, poured some random liquid that looked like it contained alcohol in it and gave it to Kevin. He disappeared in the crowd again. She looked around. What the hell was she doing? She had to get him out of her head before she made an even bigger mess. Before she crossed a line she couldn’t uncross. She needed rebound sex to forget a sex that didn't happen. A sex that wasn't going to happen. Ever. Emily looked around. Kevin was right: she had a lot of eyes on her. She probably could have picked a random one. Her eyes scanned the room. Oh. She thought. That guy isn't looking at my ass. Maybe a challenge was what she needed. She took a step towards the guy and- Nope. That's Kevin. Emily sighed and turned the opposite way. Tall guy. Blonde. Saw him smoke weed earlier. Couldn't be more different than Kevin. Just what she needed. Maybe he was even going to be good and able to wipe her mind for half an hour or so. She danced towards him and it didn’t take long for the dude- Jason, maybe, she couldn’t hear the name over the music- to be all up in her personal space. There was a kiss. Then another. And then it was an unprompted hand on her boob. To which Emily answered with a hand inside his jeans. She moved away to propose moving to a more private area, but Jason got dragged away by something. Or rather, someone. It took Emily a little too long to figure out what was happening and by then, Jason was already falling on a table full of booze. Fuck. Emily rushed to stop Kevin, which wasn't hard given the amount of alcohol involved, and dragged him away. She walked out of the house and dragged Kevin from an arm to the closest street. He was still yelling intelligible stuff at the guy, trying to get away from her, getting the attention of every single person who happened to be in downtown Lebanon that night.
“Will you stop?!” she asked, dragging Kevin closer to her. He frowned.
“What-” said Kevin. “Oh, wait- you- you're mad.” Emily rolled her eyes and continued walking, her heels clicking on the ground and making everyone in the street turn towards them, while she still had Kevin's wrist firmly in her hand. “Emily-” Kevin called her name but she didn't turn. “Emily, I can walk!” Emily let go of his arm without looking. As long as she saw his shadow behind him, she continued walking towards the Bunker. It took Kevin a couple of minutes to talk again. “Okay, I- I am getting the- uhm- punching the guy was not… a good- I shouldn't have done it?”
“Big time you shouldn't have!” She stopped and turned. Kevin lost his balance trying to stop as well. Emily grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him back straight. “Because first, I can take care of myself. And second, you- you- You just don't, okay? What if the police got involved or, I don't know- someone recognized us?!” she yelled. “Dude, I- I'm legally dead and you're supposed to be a missing person!”
“I was just trying to help!” Kevin said. Emily took a couple more steps, then stopped. She turned. “I’m sorry, okay? I just wanted to-”
“To what?” asked Emily. Kevin looked at her and she immediately regretted the question. “You know what? Don't answer that.” She started walking again. Kevin followed her but remained a few steps behind. Once in a while, Emily turned to see if he was still there, and he was a few more steps behind.
“Emily…” he called. She hummed. “I can't keep up.”
“I’m drunk, high and wearing heels. You can keep up,” she said. She continued walking, but slowed down her pace.
“Emily?” called Kevin again. Emily turned without stopping. “Can I tell you why I punched the guy?” Fuck, fuck, no, no, no- Emily stopped walking and Kevin stumbled into her. He bounced back and took a moment to get his balance.
“You’re drunk Kevin, don’t do stuff your sober self would regret,” Emily said. Kevin looked at her, confused, and frowned. Not walking anymore, Emily started to get cold. She’d left her jacket at the party and she was wearing a dress. On Christmas. She wrapped herself in her arms.
“Are you cold?” asked Kevin. He looked at his hands. “Am I cold?” He put his hands on Emily's cheeks. She huffed.
“Yeah. Kinda,” Everything happened way too fast for Emily to process. She saw Kevin suddenly move forward- like he was about to kiss her, but then he slipped and fell to the floor. Emily looked at him with a sigh as he stood back up. “What the hell's going on with you?” she asked.
“I'm drunk,” Kevin said, dragging his hands on his shirt to wipe away some dirty snow.
“I can see that,” she sighed. “But you've been weird ever since I asked you to go out.”
“What?” Kevin asked, starting to walk again. “No- You've been weird. You said that- that shower thing.”
“It wasn't a weird thing, I really was going to take a cold shower.”
“Yeah, right,” Kevin rolled his eyes.
“What are you trying to say?” Emily closed her eyes and then interrupted Kevin, who was about to answer. “You know what? Don't-”
“Don't answer that, yeah you said that already.” Kevin sighed. “Look, can we just go back home?” Emily rolled her eyes and approached the Bunker door. “Going out with you was such a bad idea.” The moment she stopped in front of the door to look for the key, she felt Kevin approach her.
“I don't get it,” she complained. “I was your wingman, I told you what to do to get under girls' shirts, Jesus, I- I made you damned drinks to bring them! And you…” Emily released a nervous chuckle, looking in her purse for the key. “You're unbelievable! Un-fucking-believable!” Emily entered the bunker and took off her shoes. She threw them over the handrail and they landed on the floor with a loud thud. Emily rushed down the stairs, naked feet burning against the cold metal steps. Kevin followed her. “Just when I thought maybe we-” Emily bit the inside of her cheek. “Nevermind,” she said. She reached her shoes and picked them up.
“Why are you so mad? I made a mistake, it happens! I thought I-”
“That's not the problem, Kevin! Even if he was being a dick, you don't need to defend me! I can take care of myself!” Don't say it, don't say it- “You are not my boyfriend!” Fuck. Kevin looked at her. He frowned and visibly bit the inside of his cheek. Yeah, fuck. Not my best. Kevin scoffed.
“I guess not wanting a random guy to fucking grope you is strictly for boyfriends, regular friends can't help with that, can they?” He unbuttoned the sleeves of his shirt. “But then again, we're not just friends, are we?” Emily ignored his last remark and chose to focus on the first one,
“He wasn't being a dick, Kevin! I literally had a hand down his pants and you know it!”
“Are you calling me a liar?”
“I'm calling you a coward!”
“I'm the coward?” said Kevin. “Are you sure?” The sound of a door closing in the bunker echoed through the halls. “Because if you are, you have a pretty fucked vision of how friends behave!”
“Kevin, now it's not the time-”
“No, it is the time! Because you're right. I'm not your boyfriend, so why would we do any of the things we do?”
“That is not-”
“What?!” He said. “That’s not what you meant? Guess what-”
“JESUS CHRIST, KEVIN, STOP GOING AROUND IT AND JUST TELL ME WHY YOU DID IT!”
“Because I'm in love with you!” He yelled. His voice broke. The lights in the Bunker turned on for a moment and then everything went back in the dark, the red emergency light turning on. “Happy? Is that the romantic confession you wanted?!” Emily threw her hands in the air and turned around. “I hope you're satisfied-”
“Go away,” said Emily. Kevin didn't move. “I FUCKING SAID GO AWAY!” Emily listened to the sound of Kevin's sneakers get fainter and his door slamming close and sat on the last step of the stairs. A few minutes later, Dean appeared in the war room holding two beers.
“Ah, fuck, you guys are back already?” Emily sat on the stairs and covered her face with her hands. Dean chuckled. “Shut up.”
“Sorry,” said Dean with a grimace. “But it was kinda hard not to overhear,” Dean smiled and sat next to Emily on the stairs.
“I was trying to have rebound sex. I was trying to, you know- get him out of my head. And he punched the guy,” said Emily. “Jesus, I made everything so much worse.”
“You think he's going to remember it tomorrow?”
“God, I hope not,” she sighed, leaning back on the steps.
“Question,” Dean opened one beer and gave it to her. “Why did you, you know- tell him off? I was kinda expecting to hear sex noises after he said-”
“Dean…” Emily rolled her eyes and released a nervous chuckle. “I don't know. I guess I didn't see it coming. Not like this. And… well I guess I'm not- I'm not sure-”
“You're a terrible liar,” Dean said. “You're just scared.”
“I don't know, man…” Emily sighed. “This thing is… it's out of control. We were supposed to save the world. I was supposed to die. He was supposed to go back to Michigan. None of this… cuddling at night and confessing feelings while fighting thing was supposed to happen.”
“Dude,” said Dean. “The guy you have a massive, ridiculous crush on just confessed his love to you! Cheer up,” he sighed. “Could be a lot worse.” Emily looked down at her beer.
“Jesus, he was right…” she sighed. “I hate it when he's right.” Dean looked at her and smirked. “I need to go talk to him, don't I?”
“Not now, kid,” Dean said. “You're drunk. He's drunk. Go sleep it off.”
“And then what?” Emily asked. “Sam told me this was going to blow up, I-”
“Emily, relax,” Dean said. “I'm sure one of you is going to figure it out.”
Kevin avoided her for the following week. He wouldn't talk to her, and if they met in the hallways, he wouldn't even look at her. Emily tried to bring herself to go knock on his door, maybe talk about what happened, figure things out… but she couldn't. Maybe, she thought, it was better that way. A confession gone wrong was the best way to stop the relationship from going forward. That was what she wanted, right? Go back to the friend side. And maybe they'd gone a little less than that, but it was still… good? Who the fuck was she kidding? Emily couldn’t keep Kevin out of her mind. He was all she could think about. Which made everything else harder. Working jobs was near to impossible, her mind wandering off to that party every ten minutes, even while she was a wrong step away from injury, which was why she’d just stopped going. She wasn’t gonna get killed over Kevin. The Bunker was quiet, way too quiet, Emily could hear the faint humming of the computer running the whole place. It was so quiet, in fact, she was afraid of making a sound. With everybody else gone, it didn’t feel like a home anymore, it just felt lonely. And creepy. Because Kevin was somewhere in the Bunker, refusing to speak to her, making a sound felt like she would make him mad and start another argument. Which she didn’t want to. What she wanted was to have everything back as it was, which of course couldn’t happen. But then the complete silence was broken by a scream. Crowley’s scream. Emily rolled her eyes. He’d tried that on her before. Pretend something is wrong to lure her in, then try to psych her up to do something stupid. A second scream followed, and it sounded a little too real to be the usual shenanigans.
When she saw the dungeon door open from a distance she started walking faster, alarmed. She went through the door and it took a second to realize what was happening. It was Kevin, torturing Crowley. Wait, what? Kevin, Crowley, hammer to his face. She stopped Kevin's arm halfway to the demon's face. Kevin turned, surprised for just long enough to notice before going back to his ‘I don't care about you’ face.
“What are you doing?!” she yelled, getting the hammer from his hand. “What part of leave Crowley alone was hard to understand for you?” Kevin tried to fight back, but Emily managed to block him. Compared to the time she had to do it in the boat, it was a lot harder. Probably something to do with the fact he wasn't starved and sleep deprived anymore.
“Aw,” said Crowley, a hint of sarcasm. “What a nice coup-” Emily kicked his chair, tipping it back and making him fall to the ground. She dragged Kevin outside the dungeon.
“What the hell are you doing down here?!” she asked. Kevin shoved his arm away from her and crossed his arms.
“None of your business!” he complained. Emily looked back at Crowley, who was yelling, asking for help, and then looked back at Kevin. “Lea-”
“I don't know what he told you, but he's lying,” Emily said. “He's a demon, demons lie, I thought you knew that!” Kevin rolled his eyes and looked away. “What exactly was the plan, uh? Take it out on him, then what? He dies, I’m screwed!”
“I wasn't going to kill him!” Kevin yelled. “I just-”
“Yeah, because you have a long, extensive track record, right?!” Emily yelled. “You definitely know when to stop not to kill him, because you've done this so many times!”
“Hey, I'm not an idiot!” Kevin answered. Emily raised her eyebrows.
“That is at least debatable!” Emily scoffed. Kevin rolled his eyes and walked away. She looked at him as he climbed up the stairs and sighed. Even Crowley had gone quiet. “I get it, okay? You're angry and you wanted to do something about it, but-”
“Oh you get it, uh?” Kevin turned back towards her. “What exactly is it that you get?” Emily crossed her arms. “You don't know what I feel like- you- you are cold and- and firm in the face of adversity, all you do is complain and…” Kevin trailed off. Emily looked at him. She could have answered. She could have talked about all the bad shit that had happened to her in her life, and how acting like she didn't feel any of it was the only way to make sure he was safe. She could have said the truth, but then she heard Crowley's voice.
“Just kiss already!” he yelled from inside the dungeon.
“Shut up!” she heard Kevin's voice echo hers and closed her eyes. She couldn't say any of it. “I'm not going to let you mess up my plan out of spite, Kevin,” she said. “And when I tell you I get it you can believe me or not, I don't care, but you do not come down here.” Kevin rolled his eyes again.
“Of course you don't care,” he whispered, walking away. She waited until she heard his door slam close across the Bunker, then pulled Crowley's chair back up.
“Get over yourself, Sheep,” he said, squeezing his eyes. “Playing Dean Winchester doesn't suit you well.” Emily looked at him but didn't answer. She locked the dungeon and left. When she walked past Kevin's room, he was crying. Emily stopped. Maybe Crowley was right: maybe she really was just trying to be Dean, when she should have been like Sam. And what would he have done? Emily took a deep breath and knocked.
“Kevin?” she called.
“Go away!” something hit the door from the inside. Emily took another deep breath. She could do it. She could stay calm, right? She just had to be the mature one and say the right thing. Sam always knew what the right thing was.
“Come on, can we talk?” she asked, trying her best to sound friendly but only managing to sound like a bad imitation of Barbie. She cleared her voice.
“I said go away!” Kevin yelled from inside. Okay, experiment failed. Fuck this shit.
“Open the fucking door, Kevin,” she said, knocking harder. She knew exactly what to do. The same thing Dean had done that time she got lost in the forest after running from a nest. It didn't matter if they’d been fighting for a year straight, he still came to look for her and covered her ass with John. “I don't give a shit if you're mad at me, okay? Open the damned door and let me help!” A few seconds later, the lock clicked open. Kevin looked at her, eyes red and face wet.
“I don’t need your help,” he said, throwing the anti possession necklace she'd given him two years prior at her. “And I surely don't need you.” The door slammed close again, and Emily stared at it for a second. Her eyes filled with tears, but she dried them and walked away. She ruined everything.
The next day Sam and Dean came back home. She heard them pull into the garage, walk in complaining of sitting in the car for too long, backs that hurt and going right to sleep. Then, she heard Dean call her name. She didn't answer, so he knocked on Kevin's door. Emily closed her eyes.
“Not here!” she heard Kevin yell through the door. A few seconds later, Dean's shadow appeared behind the door. He knocked and opened the door.
“Hey,” he said. “Everything okay?”
“Did it sound like it was okay?” she asked, standing up from the bed.
“What the hell happened?” he asked. Emily sighed and looked away. “Oh, come on, what did you do?”
“I didn't-” Emily hesitated and groaned. “We fought again, okay?”
“Wow,” Dean huffed. “I didn't even know you had it in ya.”
“What? The power of fucking shit up?” Emily crossed her arms. Kevin's door opened and closed and she heard steps go through the hallway. Dean smirked. “Stop smiling! This isn't fun!”
“It's not fun because you don't want to make it fun,” said Dean. Emily scoffed. “If you wanted to, you could have gotten all the way with him at that party. But you didn't.”
“Dean, this-” Emily sighed and walked past him. “This isn't about sex! Why does it always have to be about sex with you?!” Dean's smirk vanished. “If I just wanted sex, I could have gotten it like- two years ago! This is not-” She clenched her fists, frustrated, digging her nails into her palms. “Fuck! This isn't supposed to be this complicated!” Emily walked out of her room and marched towards the kitchen, past Sam who was carrying his bag to his room.
“What’s going on?” he asked, alarmed. “Are you okay?”
“Shut up!” she yelled, one hand on the kitchen door. “Everyone needs to shut the fuck up about me and Kevin, okay?”
“Emily-”
“Yeah, I fucked up- I don't want to hear it! I already know-” Sam tried to stop her one more time.
“Don’t-” Emily opened the door and someone bumped into her, spilling hot tea on her arm.
“Shit-” she took a step back, shaking her arm and looked at the person holding the cup of tea. Kevin. “Of course,” she whispered. Kevin tried to formulate an apology, but Emily didn't let him make any sound. “Oh, spare me, advanced placement!” Kevin shook his head. “Don't look at me like that!”
“Oh, I'm sorry,” said Kevin, walking out of the kitchen, “would you like me to burn my eyes out so I don't look at you at all?” Emily's blood burned with frustration. She dug her nails into her palms one more time, begging herself to not react any further, not to explode.
“Shut up,” she said. Kevin rolled his eyes and walked away. “don't worry about the arm by the way, it's not like I burned myself or anything!” Kevin stopped walking. Sam dragged his hand through his face.
“Kid, maybe you should-”
“You know what?” said Kevin, turning back towards Emily. She crossed her arms. “Fuck you! Has it ever occurred to you maybe you're not the one who has it worst in this situation? Just… for a fucking second?”
“I'm sorry, would that be you? Little miss broken heart? Are you seriously-”
“God-” Kevin looked away. “You're infuriating, I swear to God- there's other stuff going on other than your fucking power trips over a night gone wrong!”
“Is that your big takeaway? Just a night gone wrong?!”
“You got a better description?”
“For the night out or for the part where you started a drunk fight for no reason?”
“I don't know, you tell me, you're the one who always acts like she has all the answers!” said Kevin. Emily scoffed.
“Jesus Christ, why- why am I even i-” Woah there. She stopped herself. I know the ‘l’ word didn’t just almost come out of your mouth. Kevin frowned. “Why am I even listening to you?!” The pause and the last phrase Emily said seemed to snap something in Kevin. He looked at her for a long second and clenched his fingers around the cup and then sent it flying across the hall. It shattered on the wall, a few feet away from Emily, leaving a trail of hot tea on the floor.
“Fuck you,” said Kevin before walking to his room. The door slammed and Emily felt Sam and Dean's eyes on her. She closed her eyes and leaned on the door frame. She really needed to learn how to shut the fuck up. There was no way around it. Emily walked through the library and up the stairs. She took a cigarette out of her overalls and lit it up.
Dean heard the bunker door slam echo through the entire hallway. He looked at Sam.
“Do you know what the hell’s going on?” he asked him. Sam shrugged.
“I got nothing,” he said. Dean took a deep breath. Faint music started to come out of Kevin’s room. He looked at Sam as he chuckled and looked away. Dean put his hands on his waist. “What do you think?”
“Beats me, Sammy. You’re her BFF or whatever,” Dean complained, walking towards the library. Sam followed him.
“Dude,” said Sam. “She’s barely speaking to me after you came back from purgatory. If you don’t know, we’re fucked.” Dean looked at the stairs that brought outside. He had a feeling. Maybe he did know what was going on. It was something she’d said earlier. Emily had never reacted like that when talking about sex, which only left him with an explanation. It really was different, she wasn't lying. He looked at Sam: he seemed clueless. Losing telepathy really meant he had no idea about anything Emily related anymore, and if he didn't, nobody did, so Dean had to go on instincts alone and hope said instincts didn't get him punched. He grabbed Emily’s jacket from a chair and made his way outside the Bunker.
“Dude, what the hell are you doing out here?” she asked as soon as he opened the door, crossing her legs on the wall she was sitting on. She already had gone through half a cigarette. “It's cold.”
“I brought you a jacket,” said Dean, sitting next to her with his hands in his pocket. It really was cold. “So, want to tell me what the hell's going on with you?”
“I don't know,” Emily said in a whisper. She looked at the floor and some condensation came out of her mouth. Or maybe it was cigarette smoke. “Honestly, this- this is new, I- I-” Dean frowned. He’d definitely seen his sister have feelings for someone. It couldn’t really be that different, right?
“New?” he asked. “This isn't new, kid. What about Ramiel? And Daniel, that guy you used to live with back when-”
“It’s not the same damn thing, okay?” Emily snapped, standing up from the wall. Dean’s head tilted backwards ever so slightly, starting to put the pieces together.
“How?” he asked.
“I don’t know!” Emily repeated, nervous. “This is not just me… wanting to have sex with someone! It’s- it’s different!” Dean looked at Emily as she nervously dried her face and released a frustrated grunt. It wasn't the first time she saw her nervous or angry, in fact that was how she'd seen her most of the time ever since he met her, but that time it felt different. It felt normal. Like something every little girl was supposed to go through, only she wasn't a little girl, she was an adult. And that was the weird part. Somewhere along her life, she must have had the chance to experience something that wasn't just sex. Once, maybe as a kid. Unless it really was the demon blood. That would explain it.
“Emily,” he said. She turned towards him and sniffled. “You’re in-”
“I swear to god, Dean-” she sighed, sitting back on wall. “I don't know, okay? And I thought- I thought I knew but apparently that-” she stuttered on her words and brushed her eyes with her hands. “Apparently that has a whole other-” Dean grabbed Emily's jacket and took the cigarettes out of the pocket. He held his hand out to Emily. He put the cigarette into his mouth as Emily handed him a lighter. As she did it, she looked up. “What are you doing?” Dean didn't answer and lit up his cigarette. “You smoke?” she frowned. Dean shook his head. Emily dried her face and Dean put the jacket on top of her shoulders. He wasn't gonna tell her about his demon blood theory. Emily didn't need something else to think about, she didn't need to be scared she was going to change or that she wasn't gonna be tough enough for the job anymore. At that very moment, it was time for Emily to be normal for a few minutes. She deserved that much.
“Tell me about it,” said Dean. “This thing you're feeling, describe it to me,” Emily nervously moved some snow with her shoes and sighed.
“It's like…” she closed her eyes for a moment, almost like if she was imagining something, “You know when you've been working on a case, and you manage to save everyone? That feeling in- in your stomach when no one is hurt, the bad guy is gone and- and you saved everyone?” she explained. “You know that feeling?” Dean smiled.
“Yeah, I do,” he said. “I miss that feeling.” Emily took a deep breath.
“How did I go almost twenty one years without feeling like this?” she asked. Dean shrugged. “Sometimes I feel like I'm going to go crazy,”
“Why?”
“Because I can't- I can't have the farm,” she explained. Dean frowned. “The farm and the- the cats and the potato plants growing in the back of my house and- and-” Emily releases a groan of frustration. “It used to be just hunting, you know? But somewhere along the line… I stopped caring about that.”
“Kid, I’m pretty sure that's the point,” said Dean. “That's how you're supposed to feel.”
Why stay?/A promise
From Next To Normal
“Any news on Cas?” Emily asked, sitting in front of Sam with her breakfast. Sam turned his laptop.
“Last time we heard from him he was in Longmont, Colorado…” he explained. “Here is how far he could have gotten, green is one day, yellow is two days, red is thr-” he stopped talking, looking at her. She looked up from her pancakes, confused. “Did you go for a run without me?” he asked. Emily frowned.
“Yeah,” she said. “Why?”
“I don’t know, maybe- You’ve been getting back at it pretty fast, you know, with all the training and the- well, there was that party.”
“I little alcohol is not going to kill me,” Emily huffed, standing back up to get coffee. “And a run isn’t either, okay? I’m fine.” Sam looked at her, letting concern slip on his face for just a moment, but then went back to the laptop. “So, Cas?” she asked.
“Well,” Sam looked at her for a moment before turning the computer back towards him. “We- we’re following possible angel cases, there was one here, in Iowa. But Dean found another case, so I’m not sure-” Dean walked into the room with his hunting bag.
“You up for some action?” he asked, looking at Emily. She frowned. “You’ve been ‘getting back into shape’ or whatever for a while now, I say you just come on a case.”
“Are you sure?” Sam asked. “I mean, she just-” Sam’s mouth closed and he glared at Emily, alarmed. She turned. Kevin walked past her, grabbed a cup and filled it with coffee.
“Hey,” Emily said. Kevin didn’t look at her, just took his cup and left the kitchen. She sighed.
“Ouch,” Dean said. “Has he still not said a word to you?”
“Nope,” Emily stood up and leaned on the sink. “Doesn’t even acknowledge I exist.”
“Why don't you talk to him?” asked Sam. “Clear stuff out, you know.”
“Yeah, because all the times I tried talking things out with him over the past year worked… great, right?” she sighed. Dean put his hands on his waist. “You were saying?” she asked. “You have a case?”
“A buddy called me, he needs some help, so I say you go follow up in Iowa and we go up to Michigan,” Dean said. Sam hesitated. “Worst case scenario you give us a call, we make a run for it.”
“I don’t know, maybe- maybe we should stick together,” Sam said, leaning back in the chair. “I mean, it’s your first hunt in a while…” he pointed at Emily.
“Sam, I’m fine, okay? I’m not rusty, I can handle this,” she complained. Sam nodded.
“I just want to make sure-”
“Dude, when you were my age you iced Azazel, I think I’m gonna be fine with some…” Emily turned towards Dean, realizing she didn’t know what the case was about.
“I’m thinking vengeful spirit,” he said. Emily nodded.
“Come on, Sam, it’s a ghost, I’ve been dealing with them since I was thirteen, I think I’ll survive,” Emily said. Sam sighed.
“Okay, I mean- If you think it’s-”
“What’s up with the mama-bearing, dude?” she asked, lighting up a cigarette under the kitchen hood.
“No, you’re right,” Sam said. “You should go, I will- I will go to Iowa and look for Cas.” Emily smiled and walked out the kitchen, through the hallway and up the stairs. She finished her cigarette outside, then went to pack her bag. She walked to the garage, where Dean was already waiting for her, threw her stuff in the back seat and sat down next to Dean. He handed her a paper bag.
“What is this?” she asked.
“Kevin made us- well, you, lunch for the road.” he answered. Emily frowned.
“What?” she asked, confused. “Seriously?”
“Yeah. I saw him right before I walked into the garage.” Emily opened the paper bag and saw two sandwiches inside. She sighed. “I mean, it’s better than ignoring you, isn’t it?”
“Maybe,” Emily said. “He could have at least given it to me.”
“I’m sure he would love to give it to you,” Dean said. Emily frowned for a second, then realized and looked at him. He pumped his eyebrows twice and started the car.
“Dude, that’s disgusting,” she said. “Do you ever think about something not sex-related?” Dean huffed and pulled out of the garage.
“Actually, I’m thinking about our case right now,” he said. “The guy who called me, his name is Sonny, he runs a boys’ home.”
“A… a reform school?” she asked, frowning. “How the hell do you know this guy?”
“So, uh-” Dean hesitated. “Dad sent me there.” Emily kicked away her shoes. “I got busted trying to steal.”
“Oh,” Emily said. “Was it… bad?”
“I mean, it wasn’t fun,” Dean answered. “But Sonny’s a good guy, he looked after me.”
“Okay,” Emily said. “And you said it’s a ghost?” Dean nodded. He didn’t say anything for a few miles.
“Look, there’s something I need you to know,” he said, tapping his fingers on the steering wheel. “Sam… he doesn’t know, okay? Dad never wanted to tell him, so he thinks I got lost on a hunt.” Emily raised her eyebrows.
“Why didn’t he tell him?” she asked. “It sounds like a good boogeyman to keep Sam good and obeying.” Dean sighed.
“I don’t know, kid,” he said. “Dad did a lot of things I don’t understand.” He looked at her and sighed. Emily looked away and touched her wrist. That was when she realized. How long had it been since she’d hurt herself? The freshest scar was the one from the ward, and it had been around a year. She’d been so focused on everything else she didn’t even realize that she’d somehow quit. It wasn’t out of being too busy, that had never been a problem before. She remembered feeling it creep up on her sometime while she was in the church, preparing for the first trial, but that was it. Everything pointed to the demon blood being the cause of her problems. If they really purified her, it made sense that the urge started fading after the trials started. “Are you okay?” Dean asked. Emily let go of her wrist and smiled.
“Yeah, I- I’m fine,” she said. “More than fine.”
The car ride went by, and Dean parked in front of a bungalow. Emily grabbed her stuff and walked towards it. There was a sign posted next to the entrance. She stopped to read it and Dean stopped too. She heard him whisper something. The sign read ‘Cedar Ridge Wilderness Program’. Emily stopped. The name sounded familiar. She looked at Emily.
“This isn’t a boys’ house,” she said. Dean crossed his arms. “I know what this place is, Dean, a guy I knew from school was sent here.”
“Goddamnit,” he hissed, looking away. “Look, I-”
“Dad sent you to conversion therapy?” she asked. Dean nodded.
“He… he wanted to send you, too,” he said. “I talked him out of it and he sent you to Bobby’s instead.” Emily blinked, one hand halfway through her cigarettes, and looked at Dean for a second.
“I… I didn’t know,” Emily said. “Thanks.” The door opened before Dean could answer. He saw the woman walk outside and straightened up. He fixed his jacket.
“Can I help you guys?” she asked. Emily looked at Dean, then took a step forward.
“Yeah, we- we’re looking for Sonny,” she said.
“Prison buddies?” the woman asked. Emily raised her eyebrows.
“No,” she explained. “Can- Can you just tell him Dean is here?” The woman gave a cold nod and disappeared inside the bungalow.
“Okay, let’s get it out of the way,” Emily said, leaning closer to Dean. “How much do we hate these people?”
“Sonny’s a good guy,” he said. “I think he was dragged into this by his mom.” He pointed towards the door. “She’s the bad one.”
“So what does Sonny do here, exactly?” Emily asked.
“Makes sure everyone behaves so they don’t have to see her,” he said. “Trust me, he’s good.” The door opened again. A man came out. Dean smiled and went to hug him.
“Good to see you Sonny,” he said. Emily smiled and decided Dean’s judgement was enough for her. If he said he was a good guy, then he was a good guy. “So, uh- this is my sister, Emily,” Dean said, pointing to her. Emily extended her hand out to greet Sonny. He frowned, but still shook her hand.
“Sister?” he said. “I didn’t know you had a sister.” Dean looked at Emily and huffed.
“Yeah well, I didn’t either last time I saw you,” he explained. “So, how are things around here? You still fighting the fight?”
“Someone has to,” Sonny said, walking inside the bungalow. “Ruth’s old, she’s gonna retire one of these days.”
“You’re doing good work, Sonny,” Dean said. Sonny handed Emily a beer. “But we didn’t come here to chat, did we?” He opened a beer for himself and sat down at a long table. “What’s up, Sonny?”
“Right,” Sonny sat down too, leaving only Emily standing. “So, a few days back a tractor turned itself on and ran over my neighbor.” Dean nodded and looked at Emily. “But that’s not the only thing.”
“Okay, I’m listening,” Dean said. Sonny looked at Emily and smiled.
“You know you can sit down, right?” he asked. Emily looked at him, then at Dean, and pulled a chair out from under the table. She knew she could sit, but walking in there, realizing the extent John’s horrible parenting went to, and that she could have been stuck in there, too, if it wasn’t for Dean, almost made her feel like John was still there. Like she still had to wait for orders, like he could still control her life. She sat down and took a sip of beer. “So, I was saying, we got flickering lights, scratching sounds from inside the walls, doors slamming,” Sonny explained. “You know I never believed in this weird mumbo-jumbo, but something ain’t right.”
“Alright,” Dean said, putting down his beer. “We’re definitely gonna check, and if you don’t mind I- I’m actually gonna let the little one here take the lead.” Emily’s eyes shot up at him and she almost choked on her beer.
“Of course I don’t mind,” Sonny said. “You guys do your thing, I’ll…” He looked down at his worn down clock. “I’m gonna go help the younger kids finish their chores before Ruth does her rounds.” Emily looked at Sonny leave and then at Dean.
“Are you okay?” he asked. Emily nodded. “Dude, you haven’t said a word in like- ten minutes, something’s up.”
“Uh, it’s just-” Emily sighed and swallowed. “I mean, I knew dad wasn’t that great of a parent, but this…” she looked around the room. “This is a place where kids die, okay? And sure, you had Sonny, but what if you hadn’t?”
“Emily, dad did a lot of crappy things to us,” he said. “But we always came through, and that’s the point.”
“Yeah, but I don’t think I would have survived any of this when I was thirteen,” Emily said. “And you convinced dad not to send me, which…” She used to hate him back then, but how could she say that to his face? Looking back to those times, Emily could see how much Dean did for her, while all she did was complain and disobey even the simplest orders. All the times he gave her lunch money for school and she complained it was only three bucks, but those three bucks was the last he had left in his wallet. The times he tried to protect her and she just did what she wanted, just to prove the useless point that she was an adult, that she - a fully grown thirteen year old woman- could take care of herself. All the fights and all the screaming matches and for what? No wonders everything else happened like it had. No wonder Dean started despising her, too. She looked at Dean, her eyes filling up with tears. She didn’t know what to say. No words felt right. So she just did what any normal person would do. Not that she had ever been a normal person, surely not to Dean. But she took a step towards him and hugged him. Dean froze for a second, surprised.
“What is going on with you?” he asked. When Emily didn’t answer, Dean seemed to relax and hugged her back. Emily held her breath and tried not to cry. “It’s all good, kid,” he said. She cleared her voice and pulled away. She dried her face and pulled her t-shirt out of her overalls to wipe her nose. Dean laughed. “How about a tissue?” he asked.
“I don’t have one, and you surely don’t have one, so…” Emily huffed. “Jesus,” she sighed. “Okay, sorry, the case?”
“I mean, it looks like this is going to be a simple salt and burn,” Dean said. “How you wanna handle it, boss?” Emily laughed, still trying to dry her face properly.
“Don’t call me that, I am begging you,” she smiled. “I’m gonna go get our EMFs,” she said.
When he sees me
from Waitress
Easy salt and burn my ass, Emily thought as she stood back up and wiped some blood off her face, still holding her machete. It was a Wendigo. She hadn’t hunted one in a whole decade, and it seemed to really have it out for her. What the hell was a Wendigo doing awake in the Michigan winter, anyway? Emily kicked away the wendigo’s head and it rolled in a dark part of the barn. Dean came running. He stopped and saw the rest of the Wendigo’s body, blood still rushing out of it and on the floor.
“Are you okay?” he asked, visibly released.
“Yeah,” she said. “Just- Not used to this anymore.” Dean smiled and used his torch to make light on the corpse.
“He really had it out for you,” he said. “Must have smelled how much of a bitch you are.”
“Dick,” said Emily with a smile. “Let’s get out of here, okay?”
Emily had seen first hand how bad it was out there, and the wendigo was just a harsh reminder that Kevin and her? It wasn’t supposed to happen. She threw her bag across the room and kicked away her boots. It was fucking brutal. Not the life she wished on Kevin, by any means. He was better off going back home. She slid her arms out of her blood-stained overalls and sighed, putting her hands on her desk. She didn’t have the time to think I’m fucking starving, that someone was knocking on her door. She turned. It was Kevin.
“Hey.” he said.
“Hey,” she said.
“Are you okay?” Kevin’s eyes fell on the huge stain of blood she had on her t-shirt.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said. “It’s Wendigo blood.”
“How did it go?” Kevin asked. Emily took a deep breath and crossed her arms.
“Can we cut to the chase? I’m tired, scared, and I really want to get changed.” Kevin rolled his eyes. “Look, we haven’t spoken in weeks, so I know you’re not here to ask me about the weather in Grand Rapids.”
“Actually I wanted to tell you I got you pizza,” he pointed outside the door. “I took a walk to that place you like.”
“Tony’s?” Emily frowned and Kevin nodded. “Dude, that’s like- two miles away.”
“Yeah… The pizza is cold.” Kevin said. “I vastly misvaluated how long it would take me. I’ve been out all day.” Emily couldn’t help but smile. Nope, she stopped herself. None of this is a good idea. No pizza. No going out. No smiling. “Look, we- we don’t have to eat it together, you… you can just go ahead and have it.” Emily pinched her nose. Fuck, not the sad puppy eyes.
“No, it’s… it’s fine. Go ahead, I’ll- I’ll get changed.” There it was. The little logic she had left- thrown out the window.
“Should we… talk first?” Kevin asked. Double fuck. “I mean, the- the pizza is cold anyway, so…” Emily nodded and sat on her bed. Kevin sat next to her. “So.”
“So.” Emily cracked her knuckles on the mattress. The alarm clock on her side table ticked, reminding her of how long the silence was getting. A minute. Two minutes.
“I missed you this past week,” said Kevin. Emily swallowed. The next words she said were probably the scariest thing that ever left her mouth.
“I missed you too,” she said. Her entire body entered some sort of overdrive, like she was actually in danger. Only she wasn't. “Actually, I- While we were out I- I saw this.” Emily took out her phone and opened a picture she took while on the road.
“Is this Rydell High?” said Kevin, leaning closer to her phone. “Like, the one from Grease?”
“Looks like it.” Emily smiled. “I couldn’t believe it, I- I had Dean stop just to take a picture.” She blocked her phone and threw it next to her on the bed. Emily put her hand on the mattress and touched Kevin’s hand by mistake. The entire Bunker went dark, the power shutting down.
“Was that you?” Asked Kevin, frowning.
“No,” said Emily. “The- the powers are all gone, so…” The red emergency light turned on.
“You guys keep doing your thing,” yelled Dean from the hallway. “I got it, don't worry!” Emily dragged a hand across her face and looked at Kevin. He huffed.
“I get it now, he's an idiot,” he said. Emily nodded and crossed her arms. “Okay, so-” Kevin put his feet on the edge of the mattress. “Sorry I punched that guy.”
“That’s fine,” said Emily. “You meant well.” Still in the dark, Emily looked in front of her. The pile of Harry Potter’s DVD was lit up by the red emergency light and an empty popcorn bowl from who knew how long before was still sitting on top of her laptop. After what felt like minutes of silence, the light turned back on. Emily turned towards Kevin. He was resting his chin on top of his knees. “You okay?” she asked, He nodded. “Should we- Should we grab some pizza? I mean, we still have three Harry Potter movies to watch.” Kevin stood up.
“Yeah,” he said. “I- I got it.” Emily looked at him as he disappeared in the hallway. Dean’s head peaked inside the door.
“So?” he asked. “What happened?”
“Nothing,” she sighed. Dean frowned. “We didn’t really talk about anything.”
“What?”
“Dean, there’s nothing to talk about,” Emily sighed. “Look, it happened. It was bad. Now we just have to… get past it,” she said. Dean looked behind him and gestured at her that he was going to come back later. Kevin entered the room a couple seconds later holding the pizza box. “Thanks.” Emily smiled. She played the DVD and sat back on the bed. She made sure to stay on the far end of the bed, arms tightly crossed on her chest. Kevin did the same. Nobody spoke for the first twenty minutes of the movie.
“This sucks,” said Kevin. Emily grabbed a slice of pizza.
“I mean, it's still better than the sixth one,” she commented, trying to deflect the awkwardness. Kevin shook his head.
“Yeah, right- you know that’s not what I meant.” Emily’s stomach closed. The slice of pepperoni she was chewing almost choked her. “I’m saying, this sucks.” He pointed at him and Emily.
“Yeah…” she trailed off. “Want to- Do we… I mean how do we fix it?” What a stupid question. Emily thought to herself. You know how to fix it. And yet, she couldn’t listen to herself and the choir of voices in her head telling her to give in.
“I don't know,” answered Kevin. They remained in silence. They had been staring at the paused movie for a few minutes.
“God, this sucks,” she said. Kevin extended his arm to the remote and restarted the movie. With a huff, Kevin paused it again. Emily felt his eyes on her and turned. Jesus, don't look at me like that, she thought. Don't look at me like you're about to kiss me. Emily shook her head. “I’m sorry, I- I don't-” she said, slipping out of bed. “I can't, okay? I'm sorry. It's- it's not your fault, okay? I- I just don't think I can…” Emily trailed out and Kevin sighed. “Sorry. Tomorrow we can- I don't know, we can- we can go out. But tonight- I- I need to… I don't know.” She stood up. Kevin looked away and turned off the TV with a sigh. Emily left the room and walked silently to Dean’s. He looked up at her for a second.
“All good?” he asked, chewing a popcorn. “You look freaked out.”
“Well,” Emily took a deep breath. “I thought I knew what I wanted to do but turns out- I don't! I- I- I am not sure about- about anything!” Dean looked at her. “I- I- don't want to drag him into this life but…” she trailed off.
“But you don't want to be away from him, either?” Dean said. Emily nodded, her eyes filling with tears.
“I can’t believe I’m crying over this!” she complained. “I- I don’t cry for these things, okay? I just don’t!” Dean looked at her and shook his head with a smirk.
“Well, you do now, so you better get used to it,” he said. Emily rolled her eyes.
“Shut up!” she complained, drying her face. “This is not funny!”
“Here's what you're going to do, okay?” Dean said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “You're going to sleep it off and talk to him tomorrow, and I'm sure everything's going to be fine and you will kiss and-
“There's not going to be any kissing, okay?” said Emily. “This isn't turning into something real, I'll- I'll talk to him and tell him we can't go any further because- because it's dangerous-”
“Woah- pump the brakes, okay?” said Dean. “Trying to keep this thing at bay is exactly how you ended up fighting.”
“I don't want him to get hurt because of me!”
“Kevin's not going to get hurt just because you let yourself have feelings, Emily!” said Dean. Emily remained silent. “And also, he's an adult, okay? He can take care of himself.”
Wait for it
Love doesn’t discriminate
Between the sinners and the saints
It takes and it takes and it takes
And we keep loving
anyway
She flopped on her bed and stared at the ceiling. Maybe Dean was right. She needed to sleep on it. But she wasn’t tired. Every fiber in her body wanted to run to Kevin’s room and scream in his face that she was tired of being scared. But at that point, she was sure whatever she did was going to make it worse. So, she stared at the ceiling for hours. She couldn't sleep. She'd spent basically every single night on Kevin's bed, for one reason or the other, and falling asleep alone had become hard. It wasn’t until someone knocked on her door that she moved again. She looked at her phone and saw it was seven am, which was usually when Sam came to wake her up to go jogging.
But that morning, it wasn’t Sam. It was Kevin.
“Hey…” She crossed her arms.
“Hey, so- I- I think we-”
“Look, I’m sorry for what I said yesterday, I- I didn't mean-”
“We should go out for the weekend,” said Kevin. “Take a break.” Emily stopped talking and looked at him.
“What?”
“Yeah, you know- Be normal just for once.”
“Kevin-”
“Emily- it's fine. Let's forget about it, okay?” Emily tried to talk. “Seriously. I just want to go and… pretend none of it happened, pretend we- I'm not a prophet and you don't have weird powers and pretend there's no angels and demons and… ghosts,” he said. “Please.”
“Okay, yeah- yeah.” Emily smiled. “I know just the place.”
“Aaaand, that's the snowman,” said Emily, placing the carrot inside the snow head. Kevin smiled. “You like it?” Emily turned to pick up her bag, but was hit by something on her shoulder. She turned to see her jacket covered on snow. Kevin was nowhere to be found. “Oh, is that it?” She said, picking up a snowball. “Is that the game you want to play?” Emily hid behind a tree and hit Kevin with the snowball. “You can't hide from me, Advanced Placement!” Kevin started to run and Emily followed him. Kevin jumped behind a tree and used it as cover to hit Emily with another snowball. She started running away, but after a couple of seconds Kevin tackled her into a pile of snow. They fell deep into it and came out drenched. Emily rushed out of it, the pungent cold seeping through her not so waterproof clothes.
“Crap!” said Kevin, trying to come out of it. Emily helped him up.
“Cold-” she whispered, shoving the snow away from her face and jacket. “Jesus Christ, Kevin-”
“Are you okay?” asked Kevin, dragging his jacket on his face.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Emily smiled and moved some snow from Kevin's hair. “We’re gonna have to get back to the motel… If I didn't know you any better I would say this was all planned out.”
“What? No, it’s- it's not, I-” Kevin's already red face turned even more red, a piece of snow falling out of his hair. “I- I didn't-”
“Dude, I'm messing with you,” said Emily. “Actually, I saw some christmas markets on our way up here, we can go check them out if you’re not too cold.”
“Wait, wait, wait-” she said as Kevin was about to drink his hot chocolate. “Let’s take a picture together.” Emily handed Kevin her paper cup and took a polaroid out of her bag. “I found it in the Bunker and fixed it.” She explained. She walked to a nearby wall and placed it down. She turned the gear on top to wait ten seconds and then walked back to Kevin. “Ready?” She asked, taking her chocolate back. “3, 2, 1…”
She smiled at the camera, waited for the paper to start coming out and then walked back to the wall. “Look!” she said, shaking the picture to make it develop faster. She turned it towards Kevin. “Damn, we’re hot.” She sat on the wall and started drinking her hot chocolate. Kevin did the same, but since he had whipped cream, he got it smeared on his nose. Emily chuckled. Kevin touched his face. “Where is it?” he asked.
“On the tip of your nose.” He tried to clean it. “Wait, here.” She extended her hand out and cleaned his nose.
“What do you want to do afterwards?” asked Kevin. Emily shrugged. “We can, let’s see-” He looked around. “Sit on Santa’s lap,” Kevin pointed at a house where an old man dressed as Santa was sitting.
“Pass.”
“Buy overpriced gifts for all our friends and family?”
“Eh- meh. I don’t have any friends,” she said. Kevin shrugged.
“Or…” he looked behind Emily’s shoulder. She turned. “We can hide in that elf house over there and smoke.” He said, taking a joint out of his pocket.
“Damn, Kevin, where did you get that?” she asked, confused.
“A guy in Lebanon,” he said. Emily frowned. “Same dude that you were smoking with at that party. Apparently, he remembers me as the guy who punched his middle school bully.”
“Look at you,” said Emily with a smirk. “From advanced placement guy to city hero-” Kevin sprayed some snow on her face. “Hey!” she said. She bent forward and ate most of his whipped cream.
“Hey!” He laughed. Emily cleaned her face. “You realize you wanted to sleep with a bad dude, right?”
“Kevin, he’s just a bully, what is he going to do to me? Push me against a locker?” Kevin looked at her and raised his eyebrows. “Actually, that'd be kinda hot.”
“Trust me, it hurts,” Kevin said with a grimace. He remained silent, taking a sip of his hot chocolate as his smile vanished. “Were you really going to sleep with him?”
“I don’t know,” said Emily with a sigh. “Does it matter? I wasn’t going to ever see him again either way.” Kevin looked away. “Look, we went to that party to have fun, I was trying to have fun,” she said. “You kissed like ten different girls, you don't see me punching nobody about it.” Emily bit the inside of her cheek. She turned the joint between her fingers and waved it in front of Kevin. “Ready to have fun?” Kevin looked up and frowned. Emily did the same. “Sorry, bad phrasing. Are you ready?”
From outside, the plastic elf house looked bigger, but in reality it was barely big enough for the two of them to sit on the floor across from each other. “I have to say I wasn’t expecting this weekend to take this turn,” said Emily. “But I’m not mad about it.” She lit up the joint. “Alright, I’m gonna go ahead and assume you’ve never done this before,” she said. Kevin shook his head, scratching the back of his neck. “Okay so… You inhale and then- well then you have to actually, you know, breathe it in. It's going to burn.” She took one puff and then handed it to Kevin. He looked at it for a second and then brought it to his lips. Emily swallowed. Surprisingly, Kevin didn't start coughing.
“Am I supposed to feel something?” he asked. “Or did I do it wrong?”
“Give it a while,” she said. “And hopefully you're gonna relax.”
“Relax? Should have tried it sooner.” He chuckled. “How did you do this while also being in advanced placement?”
“Oh, I didn't,” she confessed. “I started after Sam died,” she said. Kevin looked at her. “It’s a long story.” Kevin handed her the joint back.
“Really?” Kevin looked away. Emily brought the joint to her lips.
“I moved in with a guy, but secretly worked in a nightclub,” said Emily. “Lots of drugs going around.” Kevin remained silent and took another puff of the joint. “But as I said, long story. I won’t bore you with it.”
“Everytime you talk about your life I feel like mine was not that scary. Or interesting.”
“Dude- you’re a prophet. That's way more interesting than me being an underage stripper,” she said.
“I mean… I studied all the time before I was a prophet and… I studied all the time after, so… Not that interesting.” Kevin passed the joint back to Emily.
“What about the part where you ran from the king of hell not once, but twice?”
“Not that interesting,” said Kevin. “Not compared to you going to hell.”
“We almost died to save the world,” Emily smiled, passing the joint back
to Kevin. “Are you going to tell me that you going batshit crazy and me
almost dying wasn’t interesting?” Kevin didn’t answer. Emily laid back on
the plastic wall and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, Kevin
had his head on his knees and was staring in front of him. “Come on, spit
it out,” she said, moving next to him. “I don’t want you to get sad-high.”
“I don’t know, I- I thought this weekend was going to be, you know-”
Kevin sighed. “My chance to be normal for a while, but all I can think
about is the damn angel tablet.”
“You know what?” said Emily. Kevin frowned. “Let’s think about something happy. For example,” she took the joint from Kevin. “What are you going to do when this is all over?” Kevin looked at her in silence. He didn’t answer. After a few seconds, he shook his head and seemed to come back to reality.
“I think it’s working,” he pointed to the joint. Emily handed it back to him. “I mean, I have stuff I’d do if I was sure it was really over.” he said. Emily moved some snow around with her boots.
“Like what?” She asked. Kevin shrugged and looked down at the joint. “Oh come on,” Emily smiled. “This is our normal weekend, maybe we can cross a couple of things off that list.”
“This is too short,” he said, trying to inhale from the joint. Emily gestured at him to pass it back and she held it closer to where it was burning and brought it to Kevin's lips. He took one last long puff and Emily pressed it under her shoe.
“So?” she pushed Kevin lightly with her shoulder. “Are you seriously going shy on me?” Kevin shook his head. “Come on, I’m not going to make fun of you if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“You’ll definitely make fun of me,” Kevin said, rolling his eyes.
“Hey, we’re the advanced placement team, I got your back.” Kevin smiled. “Come on.”
“I- I actually want to know, once in my life, how it feels to be normal,” he said. “You know- not be the chosen one, or… the child prodigy. I just want to be Kevin.”
“You want me to call you Just Kevin?” Emily asked.
“I actually kinda like the nickname,” he said.
“I can make that happen,” she smiled. “Is that it? No… parachuting? Climbing mount Everest? Get head from one of those Disney stars?”
“That's gross,” Kevin huffed. “No, I- I- I mean it's not… Yeah no that's it.”
“Kevin, come on. We just smoked weed in a elf house. It’s too late for you to be ashamed.”
“I mean, I- There is something I think I’d regret not doing if I died tomorrow.”
“Like what?” Emily crossed her legs.
“I- I don’t-” Kevin looked around and sighed. “Man, this is stupid.”
“Dude, I swear to God-” Emily sighed. “Okay, I’ll tell you something I would want to do, okay?”
“Sure.”
“I- I experienced normal a lot of times, but I never- never was in a relationship where I- where I didn’t lie.” She sighed. “That sounds wrong, I- I mean where I could be myself.” Kevin turned towards her. “The guy I was telling you about, Daniel. He- God, he was nice. But… He didn’t know the truth. I told him I moved to South Dakota after my parents divorced.” Emily tapped her fingers on her elbow. “And- He loved me, but- not really, because- because that wasn’t me. That was the censored version of me.” She sighed. She took the pack of cigarettes from her pocket and moved it towards Kevin. He shook his head. She took one cigarette and brought it to her lips. “So, yeah- uncensored relationship.”
“Are you…” Kevin looked away. “Are you censoring right now?”
“What do you think?” she asked.
“I think- I think you always censor a little bit because if you feel like you’re not in control, you think things will suddenly, I don’t know… explode.”
“Damn, AP psych moment,” said Emily. Kevin huffed. “You’re wrong tho.”
“What?” Kevin frowned, confused. I love it when you're wrong. Emily thought. She dragged her hands through her eyes.
“Dude, I’m not pretending or anything. I don’t have to do that with you.”
“You don’t?”
“Of course not.” Somehow, Kevin seemed surprised. He blinked a couple of times and stared in front of him, in thought.
“What’s it like?” asked Kevin. Emily killed the cigarette under her shoe and turned. “I mean, having a relationship. Like- like not a kids one. A real one.”
“Dude, I have no fucking clue, I- I was seventeen,” she said. Kevin didn't say anything. “But, someone once told me that when you fall in love, everything that you were before, everything you did…” she trailed off. “It vanishes. And you feel like you can be anything and do anything.” Emily sighed. “Because as long as I'm with y-” she cleared her voice, Kevin too busy pulling on the elastic of his socks to realize the mistake. What the hell was she doing, saying stuff like that? Come on, Emily. “As long as you're with the person you love, you can handle everything life throws at you.”
“Like what?”
“Like… I don't know- fighting with your brothers, or… the voice in your head telling you to call it quits, deadly trials to close the gates of hell…” Just going with it, uh? I really gotta stop smoking weed. Kevin fidgeted with the hem of his jeans, silently looking in front of him. “Glasses. Plates.” Okay, how specific do I have to be before you notice I'm talking about you?! “You get what I mean?” she asked.
“Yeah, yeah,” said Kevin. “I think I do.” Emily stared in front of her, silent. “So, what about you?” asked Kevin. “What will you do when it's over?”
“Oh, I know exactly what I'd do,” Emily smiled. “I want a farm in the middle of nowhere, a cat and potatoes growing in my back yard.”
“That sounds… specific,” Kevin said. “And kidna lonely.”
“Hey, I never said I would go alone.” Kevin looked at her for a split second before going back to staring in front of him. “I need someone to re-found humanity with me if there's ever a zombie apocalypse. Or- someone to turn into ghouls with, in the case of a nuclear fallout.” Kevin huffed.
“You've been playing too much videogames,” he said.
“Maybe.” Emily chuckled. “Your turn to answer questions.”
“Well- that is it,” Kevin said. Emily frowned. “I told you, I want to be normal. That includes normal relationships. You know- adult relationships. None of that middle school crap.” Someone walked around the elf house, moving gravel with snow boots.
“Oh,” Emily’s fingers tapped on her opposite elbow as she rested her head on her knees. The temptation was strong. She closed her eyes and dug her nails into her palm. Do not. She said to herself. This is the worst idea you've ever had. She lacked the courage to turn and look at Kevin, but felt his eyes on her. He let go of his socks.
“Can I… Can I be a nerd for a moment?” he asked.
“Are you usually not a nerd?” Kevin shook his head and took her arm. He traced her scars with his finger, causing Emily to shiver. “Your arm reminds me of the archeology class I took once. It's like… fossils.” Emily failed to hold back a laugh. The weed was doing its job.
“Dude, that is the nerdiest thing to say,” she said. “Why on earth are you taking archeology classes?” Kevin looked at her arm, frowning. “Alright, just Kevin, study my arm. What do you see?”
“So… the oldest ones look like burns. I guess from when your house burned down.” Emily nodded. “There’s a lot of horizontal ones, it's… but this vertical one… it was closed by a doctor, there's still some stitches you never took out. I remember seeing these almost fresh when we first met,” he said. “Scared the crap out of me.” Kevin inspected her arm closer. He grazed her wrist with his finger. “These are all old, right?” Emily smiled and nodded.
“As I said- everything life throws at you.” She said. Kevin's cheeks flushed with red. Kevin looked at Emily's wrist and frowned. He seemed to realize something. His lips parted, the realization making its way in him.
“Oh,” he said. Emily shrugged. Kevin frowned and looked at her. “Am I an idiot?” Emily laughed. “God, I'm an idiot!” Emily shook her head.
“Possibly,” she said. “But still- you're the idiot I'd ask to move into the farm with me.” Kevin's hand stiffened up. “So…” Kevin turned towards her. Emily wasn't too sure about what his face meant, but she knew she had to be realistic. She moved away from Kevin and let go of his hand. “Look, you- you should know-” she sighed. “When you're in the life, you're not supposed to- to-” Kevin frowned. “Because it's dangerous, you know? But I- I- I mean I would get it if you-”
“Emily, I swear to God, for once in your life-” Kevin huffed. “Shut up.” Everything else happened too fast for Emily to process in the correct order.
All of a sudden, she felt Kevin’s lips touching hers and just like that, they were kissing. The lights outside the plastic house dimmed for a moment. It wasn't a long kiss, and it wasn't heated, either. But Emily's mind flooded with a thousand words and feelings she couldn't pick apart. Emily put a hand on the back of Kevin's neck and tried to hold onto the kiss a moment longer. The moment he moved away, Emily already wanted him back. She kept her eyes closed and took a deep breath. “Fuck.” She whispered. It dawned on her that that was it. All the overthinking she'd done, all the times she'd denied it, all the times she'd shoved it down because it was safer that way, it was all gone. Good for nothing. She fucked it all up, again.
“Sorry,” said Kevin.
“Sorry?!” Emily's eyes shot open. She started laughing. “Dude, you- you really are an idiot.” She smiled. “It's fine.”
“You- you said- you know- about being in the life.”
“I- I mean- assuming you care, I-” she asked. Kevin shook his head. “Okay then, you know what?” She took his face in his hands and kissed him. She'd waited way too long to do that. It was about time. Kevin's hands laid by his side, stiffened up for the surprise. Emily reached down to his right hand, their fingers interweaving and fighting for a confused moment before they could just hold each other.
Emily turned on the car and merged into the road back to the motel. The snow-soaked jackets were thrown in the back seat and the heat was cranked to the max. Other than the roaring of the engine, no other sound was going through the car Emily had taken from the Thunderbird. She stared in front of her as Kevin kept nervously cracking his knuckles. They kissed. Not once. But twice. And it was long. And - fuck - it was good. And what she said about wanting Kevin to move into the farm with her - that was the closest she'd ever been to confessing her feelings to someone. But then, after the kiss ended, she didn't know what to do. Kevin didn't seem to know either, because they had barely spoken ever since. They walked out of the elf house, walked around the Christmas markets a couple of times, hands in their pockets, and then Emily had headed for the car.
“So,” she said.
“Yeah,” said Kevin. “We-”
“Yup. We did.”
“Want to do something tonight?” asked Kevin. Emily hesitated. What did that mean? Go out? They were just out. Sex? Just like that? One kiss, then boom? Well, it was two kisses. And it had been two years.
“I- I don't-”
“I mean, maybe- maybe we can grab something to eat and- I don't know, watch a movie.”
“That's fine,” she said. Kevin remained silent for a few seconds.
“Did you- uhm-” He adjusted himself in the seat. “Did you expect something else?”
“What?” Emily frowned. “No, I- I-” she briefly turned towards Kevin. “Sorry, I- I'm just- I don't know, taken by surprise.”
“Ok,” Kevin said. He didn't say anything else.
“But I guess- I guess dinner works, were you thinking take out, or…”
“Either way,” he said. Emily sighed. How the fuck was it so awkward? It wasn't supposed to. The kiss was good, where did she go wrong? She parked a few minutes later in front of the motel. Kevin undid his seatbelt and was about to get out, but looked back at Emily, was was still sitting behind the wheel.
“Are you okay?” he asked. Emily nodded. “No you're not, what’s going on?”
“We kissed,” she said.
“I'm aware, yeah, I was there.” said Kevin.
“Look, I don't want you to-”
“Seriously?!” said Kevin. “Emily, you know how I feel! And you still-”
“I'm sorry, okay? It's just-”
“What?!” Kevin yelled. “What are you even sorry for?!”
“I- I don't know what to do, okay? I- I never felt like this before! And I feel good, but- but also- also awful, like I'm constantly in danger, and you- you-”
“What are you talking about?!” Kevin asked. Emily crossed her arms and looked away, trying not to cry. “What? What is it?”
“I'm sorry, I- I should never have- I can't-”
“What the hell- slow down! Just- slow down and tell me what the hell is going on in that weird, paranoid brain of yours!” Emily took a deep breath and dried her face. “What does it mean you never felt like this before?!”
“It was just about the sex!” she said. Kevin stopped talking. “It had always been just about the sex until I met you and- and whatever this is happened!”
“And what- what is this?!”
“How am I supposed to know?!” Emily asked. “Kevin, I don't know, okay? I don't have a name for this thing I'm feeling!”
“Why the fuck did you kiss me then?!”
“You kissed me!”
“And then you kissed me!”
“Yeah, because I wanted to!”
“Okay, then do it again!”
“Fine!” Emily put a hand behind Kevin's neck and pulled him closer to kiss him. The argument dissolved in a matter of seconds. When she pulled away to breathe, she hesitated for a moment, waiting for some sort of clarity, for a voice in her head to tell her what to do next. “Fuck!” she yelled. “I- I- I- I don't know what the hell I'm supposed to do now!” Kevin looked at her frowned. “I'm sorry, I know I- I- I probably sound stupid and- and- crazy right now-”
“Kinda, a little bit,” Kevin smirked.
“But like,” Emily continued, completely ignoring him. ‘I don't know what the fuck is going on, and-”
“Shut up,” said Kevin. Emily tried to answer. “Shut up and look at me!” Emily did just that. She looked at Kevin and took a deep breath.
“Now what?” she asked, a few seconds of silence later.
“I don't know,” said Kevin. “I've seen people do it in movies, I don't know what was supposed to happen.”
“Are we criminally bad at this?” asked Emily with a smile.
“Considering this doesn't even have a name, yeah, probably.”
“Kevin,”
“No, dude, you- I don't care how you call it,” he said. “But I can't play this game anymore.”
“That's not how this works, okay?” Emily complained, opening the car door. She walked out of the car and Kevin followed her. “If we don't figure out what this is, one of us is gonna get hurt,” she said. “And I really don't want to hurt you!” She walked towards the motel.
“Why am I the one who gets hurt in your scenario?” he asked. “Why do you always have to act like I'm some kind of wimp?” Emily shook her head and shoved the key inside the door.
“Have you met me?” she asked. “I've literally gone through hell.” Kevin rolled his eyes. “You really think I’m gonna let something like this stop me?”
“You think this past year was fun for me or something?” Kevin asked, following Emily inside the room. “Or, hear me out, we could just sit down and figure it out!”
“Not now,” Emily said. She took off her jacket and threw it in the corner. Kevin frowned. “There's something we gotta do first.”
“I'm not doing anything until you-”
“Do you want to keep fighting or do you want to talk about this properly?” she asked. Kevin didn't answer. Emily took off her shoes and opened Kevin's jacket. She pulled it down off his arms and threw it next to hers.
“What the hell are you doing?!” he asked, confused. Emily locked the door and turned on the heater that laid in a corner of the room. She slid her arms out of her overalls.
“Okay, sorry, I'm gonna try to be more explicit with you,” Emily took off her t-shirt and kissed him. “We're about to have sex.” She heard a metallic sound coming from the door and stopped. Kevin turned, alarmed. Emily put a hand on her gun and the door opened. Sam was still crouched in front of the door lock and Dean was standing behind him. For a second, he looked worried, but then took a look at Emily and started laughing.
“What the hell are you guys doing here?!” Emily asked, walking back to gather her t-shirt, ice cold air starting to come inside. “And have you ever heard of fucking knocking?!” Kevin sighed and looked at Emily. “We were kinda in the middle of something!”
“I can see that,” Sam smirked. “We've been calling you, okay? There's an emergency.”
“An em-” Emily scoffed. “Dude, we've been gone for like- a day!” she complained. “Get out!”
“It couldn't wait twelve hours?!” Kevin asked, putting on his jacket.
“Wouldn't be an emergency, would it?” Dean said. “Car, five minutes.” Emily looked at him, then at Kevin. He shook his head and walked to his backpack.
“Uh, what are you doing?” Emily asked. Kevin stopped and both hands on the table with a sigh. “We're not going anywhere! There's literally nothing you can't handle without me!”
“That's true, but it's not you we need,” Sam said. “We have a situation and we need angel tablet homework.”
“Hey, I’m sorry,” Dean said. “I’m sure you were gonna have an amazing night of-” Emily let out a frustrated groan.
“Okay, we get it,” she sighed. “Fine.”
“Five minutes, okay?” Dean said, walking out the door. Sam followed him, an apology printed on his face. An apology Emily didn't care about. Two years to build up to that and they had to come and interrupt at the worst possible moment?! That had to be illegal somewhere in the world. She walked to her bag and shoved her clothes inside.
“Unbelievable,” she whispered. Kevin closed the zipper on his backpack and sighed. “Sorry,” she said. “I know this wasn't what you had in mind.”
“Yeah well, what can you do?” he said, putting on his backpack. “We can dream of being normal, but guess what? We're not.” Emily looked at him for a second, then closed her bag and walked towards him. “Maybe you were right.”
“I’m not really sure what I should do,” Emily said, crossing her arms. “Trust me, I don't wanna go, either.”
“It's never going to be over, is it?” Kevin asked. And Emily saw, for probably the first time ever, some sort of resignation. He was giving up to the idea that there was no way to get back to his normal life. He wasn't going back to college, he wasn't going to graduate, and he was starting to realise that. Emily sighed.
“I don't know,” she whispered. “Nothing wrong with dreaming about it, tho.” Kevin pulled on his fingers, biting the inside of his cheek.
“You're telling me you still dream about it?” he asked.
“Sometimes,” she said. “I know it won't happen, but, you know, I still think about it sometimes.” Emily took Kevin's hand and smiled. “I want a quiet life, away from the city, and a normal job that I can go to without risking my life, and I- I don't know, I want a cat and… and Christmas, I want birthdays and…” Emily trailed off and Kevin looked away.
“Yeah, well, too bad we're never gonna get out,” he sighed. Emily looked at him and kissed him.
“We should do it,” she whispered. “We should try to get out.” She smiled. Kevin shook his head. “I’m serious. We're gonna get our life back.” They kissed again. It was a deal, a promise, and the kiss sealed it. But while Emily was ready to ignore Dean for the rest of the night, find an answer to all her questions, Dean was not of the same idea, and he was already punching the door, hurrying them up. Emily looked at the floor and let go of Kevin's hands.
“We're still going with them, aren't we?” he asked. Emily nodded and walked away. She put on her jacket and waited for Kevin to do the same. “We're gonna have to finish talking about what happened later, you know that, right?”
“Yeah,” Emily opened the door. “Don't worry, we got all the time in the world.” Kevin walked past her and to her car. “You wanna take a swing at the car?” she asked, handing him the keys. He nodded and shoved the key inside the car door to open it, frustrated. Emily smiled and walked around the car and sat in the passenger side.
Emily walked out of the bathroom and sighed. She moved some wet hair out of her face.
“So what if I wanted to clue the human in so that he, or she, could spit the angel out? That would be a good thing, right?” She heard Sam say. Emily felt a weird shiver go down her spine. A sharp pain hit her head. It felt kind of like a brain freeze. Confused, she stopped walking and let out a groan, but the pain was gone just like it had appeared. She didn’t hear anything in response, only footsteps approaching. Dean appeared from behind the corner. “Ah-” he said. “Just the person I was looking for.”
“What? You here to cockblock me some more? You know you owe me one weekend, right?” Dean smirked.
“Yeah- no, actually, I have a case for us,” he said.
“I’m not going on a case,” she complained. Not only she didn't want to go, but Sam and Dean going on a case without her gave her enough time to pack her stuff, take Kevin and leave. “I’ll take a raincheck.”
“No can do,” he sighed. “Sam can’t come and I need a partner.” Emily rolled her eyes.
“Dude, you spent the last year trying to get me and Kevin together, and now you drag me away like this?”
“I know- you’re right,” Dean said. “I owe you two weekends of sex with Kevin, but first, the case.” Emily rolled her eyes. “It’s ghouls.”
“Ghouls?” Emily asked, confused. “Seriously?”
“Yup,” he said. “They’re attacking a high school in Sherwood, Ohio.” Emily looked at him, mouth open, trying to figure out if he was messing with her or what.
“The city from Heathers?” she asked. She punched his shoulder. “Are you messing with me?!”
“What? No! Bodies are fucking dropping,” Dean complained.
“Yeah- look for someone dressed in blue,” she whispered, taking the laptop Dean was holding. “Since when do you need a partner for some ghoul killing teenagers?” she asked. “I’ve seen you go into a vamp nest by yourself.” Dean shrugged. “Okay- okay-” She surrendered. Emily walked past him and towards Kevin, who was sitting down at the library. He looked at her for a second, then rolled his eyes.
“You're leaving,” he said. Emily frowned. “I know that face, you feel guilty, which means you're leaving on a case.”
“Yeah,” Emily said, surprised. “Yeah, I- I am…” Kevin opened his laptop and typed in his password. “Look, it's a stupid case, it's gonna be done in a day, tops.”
“Sure,” Kevin sighed.
“I meant what I said,” she whispered, sitting next to him. “We're getting out, okay? I just need to find the right time.”
“We could just go now,” he complained, looking at her. “We could have just driven in the other direction, so why are we back here?” Emily sighed and looked away.
“You wanna help me pack?” she asked. Kevin looked at her for a second, then stood up. She walked to his room and closed the door behind them. She emptied her backpack on her bed and Kevin frowned. “What?”
“Nothing,” he answered, walking towards her. Emily smirked.
“We only have ten minutes, we're not gonna have sex,” she huffed. “Not like this, okay?” Emily walked towards Kevin and brushed his hair back. “It’s not fair for me to tell you all about my dreams and then you're off the hook,” she said. Kevin looked away. “And don't tell me you haven't thought about it because we both know that's a lie.”
“I just want to get out of here,” he said. “I don't want to be a Prophet anymore, okay? I- I just want to go someplace else.”
“Okay, then do it,” she said. “Dean and I are gonna be gone, take a car and run to the other side of the country.” Kevin looked at her and shook his head. “What?” Emily asked. “It's not like you don't know how to disappear.”
“Emily, I don't want to leave by myself,” he said. “That's not what I dream about.” Emily smiled and kissed him. “Please, don't go,” Kevin whispered.
“I’m gonna be back,” she whispered. “And we're gonna have the rest of our lives to go wherever we want.”
“Really?” Emily smiled. She nodded.
“Have I ever lied to you?” she asked. “I mean, I am a lot of things, but a liar?”
“Okay,” Kevin took a deep breath. “Wherever we want?”
“Wherever we want,” she said.
That night, she was doing research in the motel, trying to figure out the connection between the victims. In front of her was sitting Dean. Or at least, he used to be sitting there. When she looked up again, Crowley was in the chair instead. She jumped up, alarmed.
“Dean?!” she called.
“Poughkeepsie.” said Crowley. Emily was about to call Dean again, but then stopped and frowned.
“How do you know-”
“-that word, yeah, yeah.” Crowley sighed. “Dean and Sam sent me. Real Dean and Sam. Not the ones that would send you to the place where a musical, a mediocre one, may I add, takes place.” Emily looked at the demon, confused.
“What-”
“I’ll make this quick for you, Sheep,” Crowley said. “You know how you've been sleeping a lot longer? You know how you don't have your powers anymore?” Emily nodded, slowly, putting down her gum. “You’ve been possessed by an angel. He’s got you trapped in this dream while he uses your body to do what he pleases. I’m here to break you out.” She looked at the demon, trying to process. Crowley waited for a few seconds, then rolled his eyes and extracted a gun. He shot her. Emily screamed in surprise, but then looked down at her and realized she wasn’t hurt. “Quelle surprise, right, Veronica?” Emily looked at herself, in shock. “I know how possession works, Emily. So, all you need to do is remember,” he said. “You might want to sit down for it, Sheep.”
“W-Why?” she asked.
“Do you trust-” Crowley rolled his eyes and walked to Emily. “Of course you don’t, what am I saying?” He dragged her back down on the chair.
Death doesn’t discriminate
Between the sinners and the saints
It takes and it takes and it takes
And we keep living anyway
“Sam, what is going on?” she asked. “You’ve come to get me back like it was a matter of life or death just to have Kevin translate a spell?!”
“Look, I’m sorry I had to interrupt your sexscapade, but it’s important, okay?” Sam said. “We need to talk. You’re not going to be happy.”
“What the hell did you do?!” Emily asked, putting her hands on her waist.
“Those trials really messed you up,” Sam said.
“I know, I was there,” she answered. She looked behind her and towards the library. “Sam, get to the point.”
“No, Emily, you were going to die,” he said. “And I- I didn't wanna lose you, so…” Sam hesitated. Emily's stomach contorted. “I did something stupid.”
“Stupid like what?!” Emily asked. “What did you do?”
“I wanted to talk to you but you were in a coma,” Sam explained. “You were in the hospital and Dean wasn't there yet.”
“Coma?” she yelled. “You said-”
“Yeah, well- I lied,” Sam sighed. “Emily, I’m sorry, okay? I-”
“What did you do?!” she asked. Sam looked around, hesitating. “Sam!”
“I let an angel in.” Emily blinked twice, in disbelief.
“Please tell me you mean in my room at the hospital,” she said. “Please-”
“No, Emily, I mean inside of you.” Emily tried to speak but he interrupted her. “He said he was going to heal you and nothing else.”
“No, Sam- that’s not how it works, angels can’t get in if the host doesn’t invite them!” Sam sighed.
“I tricked you. It was the only way-” Emily scoffed.
“I told you-”
“Look,” Sam put both hands on her shoulders, but she shoved them away. “Wait, okay- I get it, you’re mad. You can fuck me up later, now we’ve got bigger problems?”
“Bigger?” she said. “How is it-”
“Shut it!” He said. “The angel lied, okay? He said he was Ezekiel, but we just found out- Ezekiel is dead.”
“So, what- who-”
“I don’t know, but he can end you whenever he wants, so you better dump him fast.” Emily didn’t answer. He looked at her. “Emily, are you listening? You have to expel him, come on!” She punched him, then turned around and left. When she turned the corner, she ran into Kevin. “Hi.” He smiled. “I rented the last Harry Potter movie, so-” Emily reached out her hand and touched Kevin’s head. But it wasn’t a touch of love.
Kevin fell dead on the floor.
We rise and we fall and we break
And we make our mistakes
Emily opened her eyes. They were already filled with tears. It couldn't be, right? Crowley had to be making it up. She'd just seen Kevin a few hours before.
“I told you it was better if you sat,” said the demon.
“I- I-” Emily looked at him. He wasn't making it up. Poughkeepsie was a real thing Dean had taught her. You say it when you need to tell the other person to get out of there- and fast. And that meant she killed Kevin. Or at least, her hands did it. She looked down at her hands.
“Oh, here we go!” Crowley rolled his eyes. “Emily, you didn’t do anything, okay?” he said. “It was Gadreel!”
“No, I-” Emily stopped talking, the image of Kevin dying replaying over and over in her mind. Crowley stood up and slapped her. She looked at him, confused.
“Sorry, we don’t have time for you to spiral, you need to cast him out-” Behind him, a man appeared and looked at her. Emily looked across the room. That had to be the angel possessing her. Crowley stopped talking, then sighed. “Oh, bollocks.”
“Hello, Emily,” said the angel. Emily looked at him. He used her as a puppet. He used her to- She raised her hand and the angel flew across the room. She did it out of habit, and nothing should have happened, but Gadreel’s body still hit the wall. Maybe Crowley was right. Maybe it wasn't the trials that made her lose her powers. Maybe it was having an angel inside of her. Which meant she could still kill that angel just by thinking about it. Crowley look at her and smirked. Emily walked towards Gadreel, who was standing up.
“Get out of me,” she said. Gadreel smirked and Emily slammed him to the wall again.
“Are you sure, Emily?” the angel asked. “Because I’m the one keeping your organs from collapsing, I leave, you die.” She tightened her hold against his neck.
“I said- GET OUT!”
Intermission
Emily opened her eyes and she was on the floor. It wasn’t the bunker. It wasn’t the motel in Sherwood. Dean was towering over her.
“Are you okay?” he asked. She looked at him and knew. Everything Crowley showed him had happened. She could tell. He was worried for her, but that wasn't all. Dean was terrified. She didn’t answer. Dean looked at her for a second, then took the wise choice to take a step back, but not quick enough, because Emily used her powers to throw him off of her. Before she could jump to attack him, however, Castiel pinned her down.
“Wait,” the angel said.
“LET ME GO!” she screamed. She tried to use her powers on Castiel, but before she could, he put two fingers on her forehead, making her fall asleep. When she woke up she was in the Bunker’s infirmary. She was alone. As she fully came to her senses, the voices of her brothers echoed through the Bunker.
“I can't believe you'd do something like that!” yelled Dean. “And you lied to me, all this time!”
“I couldn't let her die, Dean! She's-”
“What do you think it's going to happen now?!” Said Dean. “You think she's ever going to trust you again? Kevin is dead, man!” Emily closed her eyes. Kevin was dead. She already knew but hearing it from someone else, loud and clear, made it much more real. Her stomach sank. She sniffled and dried her face. “For once, she had one good thing going on, and now he's dead. You think she's gonna just brush it off or something?”
“I didn't want this to happen, Dean!”
“Yeah but it did! So now what?!”
“I-”
“All this for what, Sam?” Dean asked. Emily stood up. Her entire body screamed for mercy. The pain from the trials was back, she could recognize it. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“Yeah, what the hell were you thinking?” Emily asked. Sam and Dean turned, alarmed. “Which part of ‘I don't care if I die’ did you not understand?” Sam looked at Emily, but she couldn't hear anything. Not anymore. No matter if she wasn't possessed anymore, her powers were still gone. But she still knew Sam. And she knew exactly why his twisted mind had brought him to keep her alive even when she didn't want to. After Dean had gone to purgatory, their relationship had taken a hit. They were not as close as they used to be. Forcing him into a psychiatrist ward did not fix that, it just made sure they didn't see each other for a year. And when Dean came back, she and him had managed to somehow find common ground. They'd actually turned into siblings for the first time in a decade, and if Emily knew anything about Sam, she knew he was probably trying to kill himself about it. Because he wanted to be her best friend, he wanted to be the one she went to with her problems, the shoulder to cry on, because he was the nice one and Dean was the asshole. That had been true their entire life, and Sam could not stand to lose that. Which was why he brought her back: so he could be the hero, the one that fixed her, the one that saved her. Emily scratched her neck, and that was when Emily realized her powers were back. Maybe Sam wasn't trying to use telepathy earlier. Sam looked at her, terrified. He knew. He knew she'd just figured it all out. The problem was, Emily didn't want to be saved, she didn't want it back then, and wanted it even less with Kevin dead, the ashes of his funeral still piled on the roof of the Bunker. She could see it through Sam's memories. “You're a selfish asshole,” Emily hissed, walking past Dean and towards Sam.
“Woah, woah- where are you going?” Dean asked.
“I'm going to kick Sam's ass.” she said. Dean put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. She almost fell to the ground and used the wall to stand. “And then I'm out the fucking door.”
“Don't worry about that,” Dean said, his voice way too calm to be an actual reflection of his mood. “Sam was just leaving.”
“What? No, I-” Sam tried to say, but Emily tried to push away from the wall to go towards him. Dean stopped her again.
“Emily, you're not going anywhere like this,” Dean said, glaring back at Sam. “Cas’ gonna come by to heal you.”
“I don't want to be healed!” yelled Emily. “Just… let me go!” She tried to push past Dean to go to Sam, but couldn't. Dean held her back firmly. Emily looked at Sam. He had been crying, she could tell. But she couldn't bring herself to care. Not that long before, he was the one who said ‘if you cared about me you’d let me go’. What the hell happened to that? “I can't believe you,” she said. “I thought you were the one who knew me best. I thought- I thought you were going to be the one to know-” Than it landed on her. Revenge. Sam looked at her and she knew that was exactly it. Sam’s eyes widened and he apologized before she could even start yelling.
“I'm sorry…”
“I don't care if you're sorry- Don't you get it? If I died, none of this would have happened. Kevin would be back home in Michigan, he would be back to college by now, and instead, he's fucking dead! And I-I-” Emily looked at her hands. She didn't do it, right? It wasn't her. It was Gadreel, taking control of her body. Then why did it still feel like she did it? Emily leaned back on the wall, feeling nauseous.
“Kid,” said Dean. “This isn't on you.” Emily swallowed and looked at Sam. He dried his face.
“Get out of my face,” she said. “I don't want to- Get out of my fucking face!”
“Emily-” Sam tried to say.
“GET THE FUCK OUT!” she screamed. Sam looked at Dean, who didn't say anything. He walked backwards towards the door.
“I'm sorry. Really.” Emily didn't answer. She was replaying what she'd remembered, Sam's memories, over and over again. She was trying to find how it all fit together, how could she miss it. All the times Gadreel had talked with Sam through her body, all the times he'd wake up at six AM, talked with Sam, and then got back to sleep so she wouldn't notice. Dean walked her back to her bed.
“I'll go deal with Sam,” he said. “I'll be back, okay?” Emily didn't answer. As Dean left the room and more fighting moved through the Bunker, Emily stared in front of her. The main door slammed and Dean walked back in. “Sam's gone.” Sam was gone. The one person she'd always counted on, always trusted, was gone. Just like that, it felt like the entire ten years of being siblings, of being best friends, didn't matter anymore. Sam was gone, and Kevin was dead. Emily took a second to process. She had no one left. Dean sat on the bed next to her. “Look, I- I don't know your process, but if- if you want to cry or… throw stuff at the wall, I-” Emily looked at Dean and released a sob. All the fear, all the anger, all those emotions that remembering what Gadreel had done had thrown at her, they were flowing out of her like a river. She covered her face with her hands and cried. Dean crossed his arms and looked up at the ceiling.
Dean didn't know how long it had been. But Emily'd been crying for a long time. He’d tried a lot of things. He tried giving her a blanket- he'd seen it done in movies-, he tried talking to her, he even tried cold water. Nothing did it. That was when Dean realized. She was never going to be the same. Emily was gone. And he couldn't afford to lose her. He had to do something. He walked back in the infirmary and dropped Emily's backpack on her bed. He fixed his duffel over his shoulder.
“I packed our bags,” he said. Emily barely looked at him. “Let's go.” Emily didn't ask questions. She dried her face, grabbed her backpack and tried to hold her breath to the garage. She sat in the front seat as Dean started the engine. He looked over to her. She was still crying. Not sobbing, but still crying. She fell asleep ten minutes into the drive. Dean had no idea if it was the white sound of the car, the music or just being out of the Bunker, but he took a breath of relief. It didn't last long. Emily woke up screaming half an hour later. He held her back with his hand as she realized where she was. He stopped by the side of the road. Emily stared in front of her, the ghost of the nightmare slowly fading from her eyes. She then started to fumble with the door handle. Dean unlocked the car and she rushed out. He hurried around the car and next to her just in time to see her vomit. He moved her hair out of the way and helped her stand straighter. She cleaned her face and leaned on the car.
“You good?” he asked. Emily ignored him. Dean sighed and nodded. “Okay, I…” He trailed off. Who was he kidding? It was understandable Emily wouldn't want his help. After everything that had happened, after he blew up every single chance he had. “I'll be in the car, you take your time.” Emily grabbed him from the edge of his jacket’s sleeve. He turned and she looked at him. He'd seen that look before, a long time before. It was back when Sam had died. But if back then, he couldn't understand it, now he could. And it meant ‘don’t leave me alone’. “Okay.” He said. He leaned on the car next to her. Emily grabbed her backpack from the car and took out a half destroyed, smashed pack of cigarettes.
“Can I get one?” asked Dean. Emily frowned. “What, you think I was never sixteen?” he asked. Emily moved the pack towards him and he took a cigarette. “Look, about Kevin-”
“Shut up,” said Emily. That was all she said. She lit up both their cigarettes and stared in front of her.
“Sorry.” Emily sniffed and dried her face. She closed her eyes and stood straighter. “Emily, how-”
“Shut-up!” she yelled. She took a deep breath, seemingly ignoring the way she was shaking. Dean looked away. A couple of seconds later, Emily slid down the side of the car and sat on the floor. She tried to repress a sob. Dean swallowed. What the hell was he going to do? He wasn't good at fixing people. He surely wasn't good at fixing Emily. He'd always been good at breaking her, failing her. She never relied on him for anything. On the contrary, every time things got rough, she took a step away from him. He wasn't Sam. He was never going to be. So, what was he going to do? Emily managed to suppress her sobs for a few minutes before one came through and she covered her mouth with the back of her hand to try and keep herself from making any noise.
“Kid, it's fine,” Dean said. Emily shook her head and tried to take a deep breath. She sat straighter. “Look, what do you want to do? We can- we can take a break for a while, call Cas to heal you- or we- we can jump back into it. Find Gadreel.” Emily didn't answer. “You and I- we can find him and we can kill the son of a bitch.” Something in his words seemed to strike the wrong chord, which made Emily break into sobs again. Dean didn't say anything. His hands instinctively went to the side of the car, where he tapped his index finger, his middle finger and his ring finger. He did it once. He did it twice. It did, as always, give him a false sense of security. A sense that everything was going to be okay. He knew, rationally, that it wasn't the case. He didn't want to listen to his rational feelings. Because Dean remembered how it felt losing Cas. He thought he was going to go crazy. It felt like the whole world was crumbling and he couldn't stop it. So, if he listened to his rational thoughts, he should have come to terms with the fact Emily was feeling like that, too. He wasn't sure he could take that hit. He needed to keep his head clear.
When he parked at the motel, Emily didn't say a word. She put on her backpack and walked to the reception. She waited for Dean to check them in. Emily sat on the bed, kicked her boots away and stared at the wall in front of her. He'd never seen her so still. So silent. Apparently, there was a new stage, one he'd never witnessed before. Throwing up and crying wasn't the last stage. It could get worse. It had gotten worse.
“Do you want to have dinner?” he asked. Emily didn't move. She remained silent. “I'm in the mood for pizza, what about you?”
“Pizza is fine,” Emily whispered, not taking her eyes off of the wall. Dean stepped outside to call the pizza place. When he came back, Emily hadn't moved an inch. He didn't say anything. He wanted to help her. He had no idea how. Every time he looked at her, all solutions that came to mind seemed silly. Hugging? Emily and Dean didn't hug. Talking about it? She specifically said not to. What about- “Stop looking at me like that,” said Emily. Dean sighed.
“Like what?”
“Like I might explode any second.” Dean crossed his arms. Emily sighed as he looked away. He sat on the bed next to Emily.
“Pizza place said 20 minutes,” he said. Emily nodded. She crossed her arms. Dean noticed the elastic band on her wrist was back. She took it and slid a finger under it. She tensed it and let it go on her wrist. The click brought Dean back a decade, when Emily was sixteen and she clicked the damn thing every time she was nervous. The elastic was thin. Click after click, the skin on her wrist started to give. Dean pretended not to see. She didn't bleed, but red, swollen lines were showing up on her skin as she clicked. Emily clicked the elastic one last time. She hissed and Dean turned. The elastic was gone. Almost invisible drops of blood were coming out a jagged line. Emily took the broken elastic and threw it across the room, in the direction of the trashcan. How was he supposed to help? Stop her? Tell her to stop? When did it ever work before? “Dean?” She whispered. Dean looked up from Emily's wrists. Her eyes were full of tears, her lip shaking. “I don't want to go to sleep.” As Emily broke into crying again, Dean pushed himself off the bed and walked to his bag. He opened it and looked for the first aid kit, but it was nowhere to be found. “I'll be right back,” he said. Emily didn't answer. When Dean turned to look at her she was picking at the skin on her wrist, barely breathing. Dean walked to the car and put both his hands on the hood. He took a deep breath. Keep it together, he said to himself. Now's not the time. He started tapping his fingers on the car. One, two, three. One, two, three. Dean brushed his face with his hand. It was heartbreaking to see Emily like that. She needed help and he couldn't even bring himself to hug her. He popped the trunk and took out the spare first aid kit. He walked back in. Emily's hands were smeared with blood. The tiny cut from the elastic had gotten bigger, she'd tore it apart with her nails. Dean used all his willpower not to look worried or scared and sat in front of her on the bed. What was he supposed to do? She wasn't going to give him her arm to medicate, that was for sure. Emily noticed the first aid kit, looked at her arm and gasped for air. Emily fell forward and put her forehead on Dean's shoulder. He froze, unsure on what to do. Uncomfortable, even. Why? She's your sister. How did we get to this point? Dean took Emily's arm. He closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and let go of his sister's wrists, which fell back on the mattress without much resistance. He took some disinfectant and cleaned her wrist. His phone started vibrating in his pocket. He fumbled to take it out. It was Sam. He hung the call and threw his phone to the other side of the bed. Emily's nails dug in his shoulder as her sobs intensified again, her breath starting to get cut short. Fuck. He had no idea what to do. How to calm her down or help her in any way. Well, there was one way. The way he did it. Not that he was proud of it or anything. But ever since he tried it, it worked. When the anxiety was too much, when the nightmares and his thoughts kept him awake for days and days, it was nothing benzos couldn't fix. It hadn't even been hard to get a prescription for it. Or get them in the streets, either. But how do you bring something like that up? ‘Hey kid, do you want some diazepam? It's injectable so it looks like you're doing heroin, but I swear that's not the same thing!’ It wasn't exactly an easy thing to propose.
“I can't-” She cried. “I can't, please- please do something!”
“What?”
“I don't know, punch me, take me out- Just- DO SOMETHING!” Emily hit the mattress with her fist, her hand bouncing right back. Dean looked at Emily, then at his phone. Seven AM.
“I'm- I'm gonna get us some coffee, okay?” He said. Emily didn't answer. She kept crying. Did he really want to leave her there alone? Dean walked to the car, then stopped. What the hell was he doing? Running? Seriously? You're the older brother, he said to himself. You have to take care of her. Dean turned around and walked back in the motel room. But what he came back to was unexpected. He must have been gone for less than 5 minutes, she had trashed the room. The mirror was shattered across the floor, the table broken into pieces on the opposite side of where it used to be. He nearly got missed by a chair Emily had thrown towards the door. Her eyes were puffy and her face smeared with blood. Her arms weren't bleeding, it was her hands, probably from the mirror. When she saw him, she froze. Her breath grew shorter and she wrapped herself in her arms. Dean walked to his bag.
“Sit down,” he said, moving a piece of chair from the bed. “I'm not gonna take you out but I can give you something.”
“W-what?”
“It's… it's drugs. I can give you drugs, okay?”
“Why do you-”
“Just- trust me, okay? It works.” Dean took the vial out of his bag. Emily frowned. “Do you want to do it or should I?” asked Dean, his hands shaking. Emily didn't answer. She looked around and crossed her arms, her nails digging into her skin as her eyes filled with tears. “Dude, I can put it back if you want but if you're that-”
“Okay, just- just- just fucking do it!” Emily yelled. “If you really can't think of another way to fucking calm me down, just- yeah, pump me full of drugs!”
“I- I-” Dean stuttered, confused.
“I mean, is it really so hard to just… I don't know, be a brother?” Emily asked. Dean put down the vial and crossed his arms. “I always knew you didn't like me but isn't this a little too much?!”
“What are you talking about?” asked Dean. Emily scoffed. “Dude, I just kicked Sam out of the bunker, how-” He took a deep breath. “I'm just trying to help, okay?!” Emily dried her face and sniffled. Dean looked at her, tears pushing at the corner of his eyes. “Shit-” he whispered, looking away. “Emily, I wish I could tell you you'll be fine but, honestly? I'm not sure that's the case.”
“Wow,” said Emily, rolling her eyes. “That's helpful.”
“I'm sorry,” said Dean. “I'm sorry, okay? It's just… I-I-” Emily walked to his bag, took the vial and the box of syringes that he had placed next to it and disappeared into the bathroom. “Emily, w-” The door locked, leaving Dean outside the room with no way in. He could feel the situation slipping out of his control. He slid down the wall and sat next to the door. She could hear Emily cry softly in the bathroom and tears had the best of him. He dried his face and turned his eyes to the ceiling. He took a deep breath and cleared his voice. Emily came out of the bathroom a few minutes later. She put the box where it used to be. Dean looked at her from the opposite side of the room.
“Do you do this stuff?” she asked, letting herself fall on the bed. Dean nodded. “How often?”
“It depends,” he said. “Like… once a month? Once every two months? When I really need to sleep.”
“Why not pills?” Emily stared at the ceiling with red eyes.
“It's… uh- easier to get. They use it for seizures” Dean explained. Emily stared at the ceiling. “Is it working?”
“I'm not crying or screaming or throwing stuff, am I?” Dean didn't answer. He stood up from the floor and dried his face. “I’m sorry you’re stuck here with me,” she whispered. “This is not what was supposed to happen.”
“What do you mean?” Dean asked, standing up. Emily shook her head and scoffed. “Why are you laughing?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Emily said. She took off her t-shirt.
“Dude, how much did you take?” Dean asked, walking back towards his bag to find the vial empty. “You- the entire thing?” Emily looked at him and shrugged.
“Oh, relax,” she said. “It's not like I haven't done any drugs before.”
“Emily this is not some weed twice a year,” he said. “This-
“I was a stripper, dude, you think I did that job while being sober?” Emily asked. “It’s fine.” Dean looked at her.
“Oh,” he said. He cleared his voice and walked towards the bed. “You never told me.” Emily rolled her eyes and sat straighter in the bed.
“You never asked,” she said. Dean crossed his arms.
“Emily, what do you mean this wasn’t supposed to happen?” he asked. Emily shook her head.
“Forget it,” she said. Dean opened his mouth to answer, but Emily snapped. “I said forget about it!” Dean shook his head and turned on the TV. He grabbed a beer out of his bag and sat down at the table. “Dean, what am I going to do?” she asked. Dean looked at her and sighed. He stood back up and walked towards her. “The benzos are going to come down at some point and I'm going to start crying all over again.”
“We'll think about it when it happens,” he answered, putting a hand on Emily's shoulder. “I know you're going to power through.”
“How?” Emily asked. Dean frowned. “How do you know? Every single time something horrible happened I tried to call it quits!”
“Well, I think this time it's going to be different,” he said. Emily shook her head. “Trust me.”
The following morning, Dean went out on a supply run and when he came back, Emily wasn't in bed. Panicked, he slammed the door close behind him and looked for her in the room. He scanned the floor, the ceilings, the walls, like she could have climbed up there somehow. He opened the bathroom door and took a deep breath of relief. Emily was sitting on the floor in front of the toilet.
“Are you okay?”
“Lightheaded,” she said. “And I'm pretty sure I'm going to start crying again in like… ten minutes.”
“Did you throw up?” he asked, handing her the toilet paper. Emily used it to clean her face.
“Yeah,” she answered. He helped her stand up and she put her hands on Dean's shoulders for balance. He helped Emily back in bed, where she stared at the ceiling above her, silent. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what she was thinking about. And yet, he was convinced there was not a single thought about calling it quits. He knew. It was just a feeling, something about the way her eyes had changed. The Emily she was looking at was not the same Emily he had seen in the mental hospital. She wasn't the same Emily he'd seen just two weeks before, either. But that last change, that wasn't for the better. It was Kevin, whatever there was between them, that changed her from the second they met. It was undeniable. And the proof was right in front of him. She wasn't trying to hurt herself. She was just… existing. Mourning. He never hoped to see her go through that but he'd have never imagined her reaction to be the one she was having.
“So, what's next?” asked Emily. Dean frowned. “Where are we going? How are we- how are we going to find Gadreel?”
“Emily, you can take a few days. A few weeks, even,” Dean said. He would have given anything to have a few days when he’d left Cas behind in purgatory, and nobody ever gave him the chance.
“Can you?” asked Emily. Dean looked away. He knew Emily needed time like he’d needed it in the past, but he was her brother, and what he craved was to make it right by her and kill Gadreel. That was the only thing he could think about. He didn't answer. “I get it,” Emily said. “I need to pull it together.” Dean closed his eyes and turned around for a moment.
“I can do this by myself,” he said. Emily looked at him like he’d gone crazy.
“Don’t you get it, Dean?” she asked. “I’m not going to sit here and wait for someone else to do what I should be doing.” Dean put his hands on his waist and looked at the ceiling. He couldn’t cry. He couldn’t allow himself to. He sniffled and Emily turned back just a moment, but didn't say anything. Dean pinched his nose and cleared his voice. He was fine. He had to be.
Act II
Cigarette Daydreams
by Cage The Elephant
Dean woke up, the third different motel bed that week shaking and creaking like crazy. Emily, wrapped in the thin, paper-like covers, was having another nightmare. She mumbled words in her sleep, tossing and turning and throwing hands around. It wasn't the first time she had nightmares. Of course, he knew she'd been having nightmares for years, but it was never that bad he got woken up by it.
“Kid,” he called. Emily didn't calm down. She pulled on the covers, dragging them out from under the mattress and leaving her feet uncovered. “Kid, wake up.” Dean put a hand on her shoulder and shook her awake. She sat up, scared. The realization it was all a nightmare settled in and she turned towards Dean. “You good?” he asked. Emily nodded and dragged her t-shirt through her face to dry it from the sweat. She didn’t answer and closed her eyes for a second, taking a breath. “You want some water?” Dean stood up and checked the time. Five AM. “I can get us coffee.” Emily stared at the wall in front of her.
“Dean, we're never going to find him, are we?” she asked. Dean crossed his arms. It had been weeks. They kept moving around, trying to pick up a trail, but nothing ever came out of it. He didn't answer. Emily sniffled and dried her face with the back of her hands. “I can't,” she whispered. “I can't do this. I- I- I'm not strong enough, Dean, I-” Dean closed his eyes. He walked back to the bed and sat on the edge, next to Emily. “He keeps dying and dying-”
“Listen to me,” he said. Emily dried her face again. “We’re gonna find him, okay? We’re close, I know we’re close.”
“Let me offer some distraction,” said a familiar voice. Dean turned and Crowley was standing in the middle of the room. “Doing our morning cry session, Sheep?” he asked. Emily shook her head and dried her face.
“What the hell are you doing here?” asked Dean. Crowley ignored him. Emily's arm flew across the room and her backpack followed it, hitting Crowley in the face. He massaged his cheek and cleared his voice, trying to mask a very obvious surprise. Dean frowned. He thought Emily had lost her powers. She looked at her hand and frowned, too. “Message received, Sheep. You don't like me,” the demon said.
“You can bet your crusty old ass I don't,” said Emily. “You're definitely in the list of people I’d want to see dead,”
“You keep a list?” asked the demon. “Look at me, a Next To Normal reference.” Emily scoffed and shook her head. “No need to be like that, Sheep. I am perfectly aware I am barely a stain in your life right now.”
“I wouldn't be so confident,” answered Emily. “Because this is not the final number of Next To Normal, so you are not my favourite problem.”
“Sure I’m not,” Crowley smirked. “That would be your prophet, woul-” Dean’s backpack flew across the room, but stopped a few inches away from Crowley. He smirked and threw it in Emily’s direction. “What I meant to say is,” the demon said, adjusting his suit. “We both know that's absurd. There's at least two people that are higher than me and I know for a fact your bloodlust is reserved for those two.” Emily shook her head. “Now, let's get down to business. I am offering you a job.”
“Pass,” said Emily, standing up. “We already have a job.”
“And how's that working out for you, Sheep?” he said.
“We're doing just fine,” Dean answered, getting his backpack off the floor. Crowley rolled his eyes.
“Why lie?” he asked. “And why not take on another, more satisfying challenge?”
“Crowley, get to the point,” said Dean. “What do you want?”
“I don't want anything. I am giving you the chance to kill Abaddon.” Emily scoffed. “Something funny?”
“Crowley, last time, I said-” said Dean. Crowley waved his hand at him.
“What about we don't dwell on the past?” said Crowley. “Ever heard of the First Blade?”
“No,” Dean answered. “Can I kill you now?”
“I've been chasing the blade for decades,” the demon continued, ignoring Dean. “The closest I got to it was when one of my droogs- Smitty- got wind of a protégé demon of Abaddon's who claimed knowledge of the blade.” Emily stood up and retrieved her backpack too. She threw it in the opposite corner of the room. Dean crossed his arms. “Sadly, before Smitty could nab the guy, a hunter by the name of John Winchester nabbed the protégé.” Emily frowned. “I'm here to see if there's anything in the John Winchester Memorial Library that might lead us to the first blade… to kill Abaddon.”
“Wait, did you just say- John Winchester?” asked Emily. Crowley shook his head.
“Did all the crying over your dead toyboy made you deaf, Sheep?” Just as Emily was about to move her hand towards Crowley, probably to use her powers, Dean gestured at her to stop. She rolled her eyes and went to make coffee instead.
“You want to hunt?” asked Dean. “With us?”
“I do love myself a good love triangle trope,” said Crowley. Emily looked at Dean. He took a deep breath and walked to his jacket, which was hanging off a chair. He took out John's journal.
“Dean!” said Emily. “Seriously?!” She looked at him, then at Crowley. Dean hesitated.
“I'll give you two a moment,” said a demon before disappearing.
“Dude, what the hell?!” asked Emily. “You just said you couldn't wait to kill Gadreel and now- we're just… trusting Crowley with what might as well be a fucking trap? He put Kevin through fucking hell, for Christ’s sake.”
“I don't know, kid, I…” Dean sighed. Emily's eyes widened. “Look, you've been having nightmares, you cry in your sleep, you- you- you wake up screaming- you're falling apart!” he said. Emily crossed her arms and looked towards the ceiling. “See? I mean- Maybe he's right. Maybe we need a distraction. So you can, you know- rest.” Dean looked around. “This isn't about trust, I'm just trying to help.”
“I don't want a distraction,” said Emily, putting down the coffee cup she’d picked up. “I don't need- I don't care about Abaddon, okay?! I want- I need for this to be over!” Emily's words died in her throat. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists. Dean frowned. Something was wrong. Emily stared in front of her, shocked by something Dean couldn't tell. It was like her entire life flashed before her eyes. It was almost like she’d seen a ghost. In the metaphorical, non-hunting kind of way.
“Emily?” He saw Emily's eyes fill up with tears and sighed. Maybe she did see a ghost. What were her last words? I need this to be over. I want to go home. He distinctly remembered Emily using those words to quote Kevin at least a dozen times. Emily pinched her nose and slid down the motel wall. Dean could tell, even from a distance, she was forcing herself not to cry.
“Emily-”
“SHUT UP!” she screamed. Dean crossed his arms and looked at the floor. His throat closed, just for a moment, and he was forced to clear his voice. “I- I- I don't want to do this, okay?! You know what I want? You know what I really want?!” she asked. “I want to shoot Sam in the face! I want Kevin to be alive! I want for you to stop looking at me like I'm about to kill myself! But guess what- You can't always get what you want!” Emily stood up. “So, Sam's gonna live, Kevin's gonna stay dead, and you- you're just going to look at me with that dumb, stupid- fucking- fucking worried face like- like-” Emily stumbled on her words. “Jesus fucking Christ, Dean!” she screamed. “I want to go home, but guess what? I can't! Because every time I'm gonna walk through the library all I'm gonna see is Kevin's dead body! And me- killing him!”
“I know.”
“No, you don't know!” said Emily. She pushed herself off the wall and walked towards the bathroom. “Just- leave me alone!” As the bathroom door slammed, Dean flinched.
“She really is something,” said Crowley's voice.
“Damn it, Crowley, not now!” said Dean. “Don't you have somewhere else to be?”
“Can I give you some advice, Squirrel?”
“Does it matter if I say no?”
“Barely,” said the demon. “Dean, your sister's a bloody bitch.” Dean frowned. He waited a couple of seconds, thinking there was more. But Crowley didn't speak.
“Your point?” asked Dean.
“Well then, stop treating her like she's some sort of delicate flower in need of care and affection,” said the demon. “Fucking do something.” Dean rolled his eyes. Why was he even listening to Crowley for advice? He looked at the bathroom door. “You gonna open it or should I?” Dean didn't answer, but he still took a step forwards to open the bathroom door. Emily was sitting in front of the toilet, leaning on the white wall. She was holding a razor blade between two fingers, staring at it.
“Come out of there,” said Dean. Emily tried to use her powers to close the door, but Dean put his foot in the doorframe, keeping it open. “I said come out.” When Emily didn't move, Dean walked to the toilet, where Emily was sitting, and forced the razor out of her fingers. The blade clanged to the floor and Emily tried to fight back as Dean dragged her out the bathroom.
“Dean, leave me alone!” she complained, trying to set herself free.
“Listen to me-” said Dean, pushing Emily towards the bed. She stumbled a couple of steps back. “I don't care what you think you need, you hear me? You don't get to make that call because you can't! I say we need a break from this Gadreel thing, you know why? Because I'm not going to stand here and watch you slowly kill yourself over Kevin!”
“Why?!” said Emily.
“Because I don't want you to die, Emily!” Dean yelled. Emily looked away. “And sorry if I look at you like you might die any moment, but have you seen yourself lately?!” Emily glared towards the dirty mirror in the corner of the room, but immediately looked away. “Dying’s not gonna bring him back,” said Dean. Emily crossed her arms, and Dean managed to get a good look. She was clean.
“I know,” she whispered. “It's just, I- I-” Emily pinched her nose. “I don't know how to-”
“I know,” said Dean. He put a hand on Emily's shoulder. “I know.” Emily leaned forward, resting her head on Dean's chest. Emily released a sob, then held her breath. Half a minute later, she stood back up. Crowley reappeared in the room. He had a coffee in his hand. He placed it next to Emily, on the nightstand. She looked at him and frowned.
“Thought it would make you less of a fucking bitch.” Crowley said.
“Bite me, Crowley,” she said.
“Later, Sheep. Not in front of your brother,” the demon answered. Emily rolled her eyes and Dean crossed his arms. “So, what's the verdict?” asked the demon. Dean looked at Emily, she didn't raise her eyes. Dean opened John's journal and rummaged through the pages.
“Here,” he said. “He picked up a protégé who had bones with Abaddon, but that's about all it says here.” Crowley pointed at something in the journal, but Dean moved it away.
“What do those numbers in the margins mean?” asked the demon.
“None of your business,” said Dean, keeping the journal away from Crowley. Emily rolled her eyes and took the journal out of Dean’s hands. She forced herself in the middle of him and the demon and placed the journal down in front of her. “What are you doing?” Emily ignored him.
“When John left numbers like this,” she sighed. “It’s a code to one of his storage lockers.”
“See, Dean?” said Crowley. “Your sister doesn’t play hard to get.” Dean rolled his eyes. “What about the T?” Emily looked at Dean. He shrugged.
“Got no clue,” he said. Crowley took a step back from the table.
“Fine,” he sighed. “Let’s go find daddy’s man cave then, shall we?” Dean didn’t move, and so didn’t Emily. “What?”
“How do we know this isn’t a trap?” asked Dean. “I’m sure you noticed we’re not exactly in the mood.”
“You…” said Crowlery, theatrically. “Don’t. That’s what makes it fun.” Dean looked at Emily. She cracked her hands.
“Crowley,” she said. “You should know, this whole thing has made me angry. And upset.”
“I could tell.”
“Let me finish.” she said. “And when I feel like that, my powers tend to go out of control.” Crowley crossed his arms. “It would be a shame if said powers were to… you know, hurt you.”
“I’m sorry, are you threatening me?” said Crowley, pointing at himself. “The king of hell?”
“Me?” Emily scoffed. “No, of course not.” Dean cleared his voice. “I’m just letting you know what will happen if you choose to make me more angry. Or more upset.” Dean smirked.
“Okay, Sheep, message received.” said Crowley. “Can we go now?”
Emily took the black bag off from Crowley’s face. He fixed his hair and huffed.
“Is all this really necessary?” he asked. Dean walked past him, hitting his shoulder with his. “I mean, Emily, I’ve been inside of you, we’re practically family-” Before Emily could answer, Dean turned around on his feet and grabbed Crowley from his jacket.
“Dean-” Emily sighed as Crowley landed on a set of shelves, causing one of the jars on it to fall and shatter.
“Listen to me-” said Dean. Emily grabbed Dean’s shoulder and dragged him away from Crowley.
“Can we not?” she asked. Dean fixed his jacket and scowled at Crowley. “We’re working.”
“Love how she keeps you in check,” whispered Crowley, putting a hand on Dean's shoulder.
“Crowley?” said Emily. The demon looked in her direction. “Shut up.” The demon didn't answer. Dean looked at him and smirked. Emily followed him past the demon trap and inside the storage unit.
“What are we looking for?” asked Emily, starting to look through the files.
“The date on dad’s diary was somewhere in 1989,” he said. “So, something about demons around that year.”
“Here.” Emily took out a file and opened it. She froze and blinked twice. Surely, she was wrong.
“What?” Dean looked in the file. Emily held up the picture of her mom that was on top of every other document in the file. Dean frowned.
“That piece of ass looks a lot like you,” said Crowley from behind the shelf.
“Wait,” said Dean. “Is that your mom?”
“Yeah,” Emily turned the picture. “This case- this is how my mom and John met.”
“So, the T didn’t stand for ‘terrible father’,” said Crowley. “It stood for-”
“Tara.” Emily flipped through the rest of the file. “Looks like they interrogated the demon, then- then they exorcised him,” she read. “And while they were doing that, he mentioned the First Blade.”
“I love it when I’m right,” said Crowley, smug. “So, where do we start?” he looked at Emily. She shrugged.
“I- Uh-” she tried to recall anything that could help them. “I- I don’t think she had a journal, and if she did- it’s probably burned with the rest of the house.”
“So, you’re telling me we hit a wall two feet into this adventure?” said Crowley. Then, Emily remembered something.
“Wait,” she said. “Back- back when my mom died, the police gave me a bunch of stuff they saved from the fire.”
“What?” said Dean.
“She- there was this box. I couldn’t open it and- John wouldn’t tell me anything, so I- I- think I forgot it at Bobby’s the first time dad left me there.”
“Okay, so where is it now?” asked Crowley.
“I mean, assuming it survived the fire, it- it would be in one of Bobby’s storage units,” said Emily. “Which, technically, are my storage units now.” Emily put her hand in her backpack and fished out her journal.
“What do you think this is?” said Emily, looking at the wooden box. “And more importantly, how do we open it?” Crowley looked at her, raised his eyebrows and flicked his finger. The box clicked open. “Oh,” said Emily. “Okay.” On top of the box was a piece of paper. She took it as Dean looked at the rest of the contents.
“It’s a spell,” said Emily. “A spell to find the first blade.” Dean looked at her. “It’s- it’s missing an ingredient.”
“What ingredient?”
“Kraken essence?” Emily read. “That can’t be real, can it?” Crowley appeared next to her, holding a jar.
For You, And Your Denial
by Yellowcard
Emily sat in the Impala and kicked away her shoes. Dean turned on the engine and pushed a cassette in. He pressed play.
“Did you get any shut-eye tonight?” he asked. Emily shook her head and leaned back into the seat, eyes closed. “Are you sure this is a good idea? The whole… finding Abaddon thing?”
“Have you got any intel on Gadreel? Because I don’t,” Emily sighed. Dean took a deep breath.
“Spare me with that, okay? I’m trying to say if you need a break-”
“I don’t need a break.” Emily answered. “You know exactly what I need, and you know full well I can’t get it. So why don’t you just- drive, okay?” Crowley appeared in the backseat.
“Dean, you really didn’t learn anything?” he asked. Dean scoffed. Emily rolled her eyes and Dean merged into the road. “By the way, while you were keeping me waiting, I got you coffee, Sheep.” The demon handed her a coffee. Emily frowned.
“You got something for me, too?” asked Dean.
“Don't be needy, Dean,” said Crowley. “I'm doing your job, at least don't be a dick about it.”
“You think bringing her coffee is doing my job?”
“She's the kid of the family, isn't she? She's supposed to be spoiled.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Are you spoiled?” Crowley looked at Emily. She raised her eyebrows and moved the coffee away towards her mouth.
Dean stopped the car in front of a farm. Emily spotted several bee hives and shivered.
“What?” asked Dean.
“Nothing.” Emily scratched her arm and grabbed her backpack.
“Are you scared of bees, Sheep?” asked Crowley.
“Can you blame me? They sting!” she complained, climbing out the car.
“You do, too, but we still hang out with you,” said the demon. Emily rolled her eyes and closed the car door on his leg. She started walking towards the house, Crowley following closely, until the demon stopped.
“Wait.” he said. Emily and Dean turned.
“What?” Emily asked, nervous.
“I’m feeling something,” said Crowley. Dean rolled his eyes and continued walking.
“Cramps?” he said. Crowley stopped him and dragged him back. Emily frowned.
“Wait,” she said. “Crowley, are you-”
“I feel something dark,” the demon continued, taking a step back.
“You’re scared? What-” Emily looked around. The only other person there was the beekeeper. “Are you scared of bees, too?” she asked.
“That’s not a beekeeper, genius, that’s the father of murder.” said Crowley. Emily turned towards him.
“Cain?” she said. The demon nodded. “You-” Emily turned towards the beekeeper and pointed at him. “That’s Cain?”
“We need to go-” said Crowley, “We need to be away from him-”
“He doesn't look that scar-” said Emily, as the demon turned. Cain appeared behind him. Emily swallowed.
“You’re not going anywhere,” said Cain.
Cain looked at her closely as she entered the house. He closed the door behind her and didn’t pay much attention to Dean or Crowley.
“You must be Emily, right?” he asked. Emily frowned.
“How d-”
“I’ll make tea. Care to join me?” Emily looked at Dean and stepped towards Cain. Dean followed her. “Not you, Dean.” Emily looked back at her brother. He swallowed.
“It’s fine,” she mouthed. Dean’s eyes hardened, but he didn’t complain as she followed Cain in the kitchen.
“Does your brother like herbal tea?” asked Cain, pointing at an array of different jars.
“I don’t think he’s ever had any,” said Emily with a grimace. Cain lit the fire under a pot full of water. Emily looked at him, rolling a strand of hair between two fingers.
“You're not scared?” Cain asked, a hint of a smile. “Why?” He was somehow right: she wasn’t scared of him. Maybe she was just numb from one too many joints, lack of sleep or excess of everything else she had going on, or maybe he knew something she didn’t.
“I- I-” As Emily tried to put her thoughts into words, Cain seemed to regret his question.
“Why don’t you pick a flavor?” he said. “They’re all written on the jars.” Emily bent towards the herbal teas. She settled on something her mother used to make all the time: chamomile and honey. “Great choice,” said Cain. “I made the honey myself.” He turned the fire under the pot off and poured the hot water into a teapot. “Can you grab those cups over there?” he pointed to a stack of white cups. Emily took them off the shelf as Cain measured the herbal tea. He then placed everything on a tray and walked out the kitchen. “Have you ever kept bees?” he asked, entering the living room where Crowley and Dean were sitting. “It’s very relaxing.” Emily sat next to Dean.
“Are you okay?” he whispered.
“Yeah, I’m- I’m fine.”
“They’re such noble creatures,” Cain continued. “And the honey? Well, I keep it right on the comb.” He handed Emily the first cup. “They’re dying, you know?” Crowley took the cup next, his hands shaking visibly. “Without bees, mankind will cease to exist.” Dean was the last one to receive a cup. “So, what are two of the Winchesters and the king of hell doing at my house?”
“You know who we are?” asked Dean.
“I’m retired, not dead,” Cain answered. He took the last cup of tea and leaned back on his couch. “What I don’t know is why you’re looking for me. More importantly, how you found me.”
“It’s a funny story, actually,” said Crowley. Emily turned towards him. “We really-” Cain shushed him and Crowley’s voice died in his throat.
“Oh, please teach me how to do that.” said Emily.
“Why are you here, Emily?” asked Cain. Emily looked at Dean and put down her cup of tea.
“We… we’re looking for the weapons the archangel used to kill the knights of hell.” she explained.
“The first blade,” said Dean. “Abaddon is back. We need to kill her.” Cain clenched his fists at the name of Abaddon, turning his ring on his finger.
“I understand you’re retired,” said Emily. “But we need your help.”
“One last time, how did you find me?” Cain asked, stretching his hand. Emily looked back at Dean’s hand: he did the same exact thing when he was nervous.
“Tracking spell for the blade,” said Dean. “No one knows we’re here, no one can replicate the spell.” Cain sighed and stood up.
“Well, it’s been a pleasure having company, but once a century is enough for me,” he said. Before Emily could talk, Dean stepped forward.
“Listen, pal,” he said. “We’re not leaving here without the blade.” Cain stopped walking. Dean looked back at Emily.
“You have quite a reputation, Dean,” said Cain. “I see the part about you being brave rings true.”
“Well, what can I say, I’m an all-in kind of guy,” Dean answered. Crowley, still unable to talk, rolled his eyes. “Abaddon is the last knight of hell, and if you’re out of the game, why the hell do you care if she dies?” Cain pointed to Crowley.
“If your friend here could talk he would tell you, I trained the knight of Hell.” said Cain. “I built that entire demonic order with my own hands. Abaddon included.” Emily turned towards Crowley, who tried to gesture something in front of him. She pushed him and he rolled his eyes again.
“And you didn’t think to tell us?” she asked. Crowley pointed to his throat. “No, before we walked in here!”
“What he doesn’t know,” said Cain. Emily scowled at Crowley and crossed her arms. “That no one knows, in fact, outside of Abaddon. It wasn’t the archangels that slaughtered the knights. It was me.”
“Why did you turn on your own?” asked Dean. Cain briefly looked at Emily.
“Dean,” Emily called, trying to get him to sit back down.
“Once again,” Cain said. “I admire your bravery. But if you’ll excuse me, I have errands to run in town.” Dean took a step towards Cain, but Emily stopped him. “Goodbye, Dean Winchester,” he said. He then looked at Emily. “Emily.”
“Okay, so- let me get this straight,” said Emily. “Your brilliant, incredible plan is to rob Cain?” Dean nodded. “I’m sorry, what part of ‘father of murder’ is hard for you to understand? He’s a big shot, what makes you think he won’t know we’re in his house?”
“Well, then I guess we’re gonna have to move fast,” said Dean. He pointed to a car pulling away from Cain's house. Emily looked at Crowley, Dean waited until the car was no longer visible and stepped out of the Impala.
“This is by far the dumbest idea you’ve ever had,” said Crowley.
“I have to second this,” Emily whispered.
“Shut up and start looking, okay?” said Dean. Emily rolled her eyes and walked into the kitchen. She opened all the drawers, checked for double bottoms, fake walls, then walked back to Dean.
“Nothing,” she said. Crowley and Dean where looking at a picture: they looked up. “What?”
“Take a look at this,” said Dean. Emily walked closer and looked at the woman in the frame. She resembled her mother. “Recognize the ring?” She looked at Dean and nodded, deciding to keep what she'd noticed for a later discussion.
“Yeah, Cain had a similar one on,” said Emily. “Wait, is this-”
“His wife? Yeah,” said Dean. Emily frowned. “Explains a lot, right?” The door opened. “He’s back,” he whispered. “Come on.” Emily followed Dean towards the same door they entered from, but when he tried to open it, it didn’t budge. When they turned to go out the back, they were met with Cain.
“That belongs to me,” said Cain, pointing at the picture Crowley was holding. He gave it back.
“Sorry. Lovely, by the way.” A car pulled into Cain's farm. Emily looked out the window.
“I don’t suppose they’re with you,” said Dean, pointing at Cain.
“No,” he said. “You said nobody knew where you were!” he said.
“That’s because nobody did!” Emily looked at Crowley. “How did they find us?!”
“It doesn’t matter, it’s late now,” said Dean.
“Come out, come out, Winchesters!” said a voice outside the door. “I’ve got a new master to impress and you’ll be the perfect gift!” Dean turned towards Crowley.
“Abaddon,” he said. “This lot needs to die.”
“No, there’s too many of them,” said Emily. “I count ten. At least.”
“I’m gonna barricade the doors,” said Dean. Emily followed him in the living room. “Do you have a blade?” Emily nodded.
“Yeah, but-”
“Emily, Crowley can’t zap us out of here, and they got all the exits covered,” said Dean, moving a bookshelf in front of the window. “This is happening. I hope you did your fighting homework.” Emily scoffed. “Do you have any other ideas?” She looked at him for a moment before walking back to the kitchen. Cain was sitting there, peeling corn.
“Is this what retired demons do?” she asked. Cain huffed.
“It’s what I do,” he said, picking up a corn knob.
“Look, I don’t mean to get in the way of your retirement, but we kinda need help.” she said. Cain smiled and threw away some leaves in the trash.
“You and your brother really live up to your reputations,” he said. “Him, impulsive and brave. You, his babysitter.” Emily rolled her eyes. Dean walked in the kitchen as well. He pushed the fridge in front of the door.
“Are you seriously going to sit there while we die?” asked Emily. Cain shrugged. “Speaking of reputation, you really don’t live up to yours,” she said. The door opened, the fridge moving out of the way like it was barely heavy. Two demons entered the room. Emily looked at Dean and slid the angelic blade out of her overalls. A third demon jumped through the window behind her. Emily used her powers to throw the first one away from Dean, then turned to fight the one behind her. It felt like years since she’d had her last physical fight, at least with something human, and she got hit almost immediately. Standing back up again, she saw Dean being pinned down by two demons on the table, Cain sitting next to him, doing nothing. She used her powers to free Dean and managed to stab the demon that was on her.
Dean stood up and punched one of the demons. Emily saw Ruby’s knife on the floor. She grabbed it and she was about to throw it back to Dean when a fourth demon appeared behind her and held a knife to her throat. She hit it with her head and stabbed it. Dean grabbed a towel and used it to wrap it around one of the demon’s wrists, throwing it to the ground and knocking him out. Then, he looked towards Emily and she threw the knife back at him. In a matter of seconds, one of the two remaining demons was dead. While Dean fought with the second one, Emily saw Crowley fight with a demon, and used her powers to separate them. Once Crowley had killed the demon, he stood up, fixed his jacket, and looked at Dean. Emily frowned. He gestured at her to come closer. She turned towards Dean just to see him stab the last demon. She ignored Crowley and walked back to her brother.
“Are you okay?” she asked. Dean turned, out of breath, and nodded.
“Thanks for the assist,” he said. “Are you good?” Emily nodded.
“Emily, dear, do you mind giving us a moment?” said Cain. Emily looked at Dean. He nodded and Emily walked out the kitchen and next to Crowley.
“Enjoying the show?” she asked the demon. He smirked. “I’d say thanks, but you did absolutely nothing, so-”
“Sheep, I did what I had to.” said Crowley. Emily rolled her eyes and looked back inside the kitchen.
“What do you think they’re talking about?” she asked. Dean turned around and gestured for them to enter.
“So,” said Dean. “The blade is not here.” Emily raised her eyebrows.
“What? The spell-”
“The spell brought you to the source of the blade’s power, which is me,” said Cain. Emily threw her hands in the air.
“Great,” she sighed. Cain pulled up his sleeve to reveal a mark on his arm. Crowley took a step back, scared, and he signed the cross.
“Dude,” said Emily. “What the hell’s going on with you?”
“That’s the bloody mark of Cain.” the demon said. Emily looked back at Cain’s arm.
“From Lucifer himself,” he explained. “The mark and the blade work together, without the mark, the blade is useless. It’s just an old bone.”
“The old bone, as in… the bone? The one you used to kill Abel?” asked Emily. “Because he was God’s favourite?”
“Abel wasn’t talking to God,” answered Cain. “He was talking to Lucifer.”
“What?” asked Dean. Emily crossed her arms.
“He was being corrupted, so-”
“You sold your soul,” said Emily. She looked at Dean. “You sold your soul, went to hell, so that Abel could be saved.” Dean frowned, confused. Cain sighed.
“Your sister’s right, Dean,” he said. “Lucifer had one condition. I was the one to send Abel to heaven.” Emily dragged her hand across her face. “My knights and I- we did horrible things.” continued Cain. “For centuries.” Emily looked back at the picture they had looked at before. Cain had placed it back on the shelf, where it belonged.
“And then you met her,” she said. Cain turned towards the picture, too.
“She knew who I was, what I was.” Tears pushed on Emily’s eyes, she crossed her arms and dug her nails into palm. Dean looked back at her for a moment. “She loved me unconditionally.” Cain turned back to look at Emily. “She only asked for one thing in return.”
“To stop,” said Crowley. Cain sighed. Emily walked a few steps away and put her hands on the table.
“When the knights found out, they took retribution. They took Colette, so I picked the first blade back up, and it felt so good to have it in my hands again and I slaughtered the knights of hell.”
“Not all of them,” said Dean.
“No,” Cain continued. “Abaddon was possessing Colette. When I could bring myself to kill her, she smoked out.” he explained. “She made me promise. No more killing.” Emily dried her face.
“Well, I’m sorry,” said Dean. “Truly. But I have to stop Abaddon.”
“Dean-” Emily called. Dean didn't look at her.
“So where’s the blade?” he asked instead.
“No,” said Cain. He tried to walk away, but Dean followed him and grabbed him by the shoulder. He pinned him to a wall and threatened him with Ruby’s knife.
“You may be done killing, but I’m not,” said Dean. Cain didn’t seem scared, or angry. Maybe, just mildly inconvenienced.
“You never give up on anything, do you?” asked Cain.
“Never,” said Dean.
“Well, I do.” Cain reached out towards Emily and suddenly, she found herself in a cemetery. Cain remained silent and kneeled next to a grave. Emily read the headstone. It was Colette.
“Sit here with me,” said Cain. Emily looked around and kneeled next to him, drying her face from the tears. “Do you pray?”
“Not really,” she whispered. “Why- Why am I-”
“I’ve tried,” said Cain. “I tried to see myself like Colette saw me.” Emily remained silent. “But I know who I am. Do you know who you are, Emily?” Emily opened her mouth to answer a couple of times, but closed it back up. She frowned, unable to answer. “Do you think you’re like Dean?” Okay, that was easier.
“No, I- I don’t think so,” she said. “I mean, not- not in a bad way, I- I- I’m just… different.”
“You know, people who go to heaven, they watch over us,” said Cain. Emily crossed her arms. “So, I came here to ask the people who watch over me, to look away for a moment.”
“Why?” asked Emily. A bad feeling creeped inside of her, navigating her guts.
“The mark can be transferred to someone who’s worthy,” he explained. Emily frowned. “Someone who’s a killer.”
“What are you talking about?” she asked. “I'm not- I'm not a killer.”
“Tonight, when you and Dean were fighting you only used your powers to defend Dean, never to defend yourself,” he said. Emily tried to answer. “He’s the killer. You keep him safe.”
“Wh-”
“I’m going to give the mark to your brother.”
“What?!”
“It comes with a great cost. A great burden. It will be hungry,” Cain said. It was a warning, but that was not all it was.
“The mark will be hungry?” she asked, confused.
“Emily, you need to keep Dean safe. Stop him, if it ever comes to that,” said Cain. Emily tried to protest. “You’re the only one who can.”
“No, wait-” before she could finish talking, Cain touched and she was back in the house next to Dean.
“What the hell?” said Dean, noticing Cain on the other side of the room. “You in or out? I’m getting head spins.” Emily stood next to Crowley.
“I can give you the mark, Dean, if that’s what you truly want,” said Cain. Emily crossed her arms and looked behind Crowley, a horde of demons running towards the house.
“What are you talking about?” asked Dean.
“The mark can be transferred to someone who’s worthy,” Cain explained. Emily closed her eyes.
“You mean a killer, like you?”
“Yes.” The demons started hitting the doors.
“Can I use it to kill that bitch?”
“Yes,” Cain repeated. “But you have to know, with the mark comes a great burden.” he said. “Some would call it a great cost.” Dean looked back at Emily and then put his knife back in his inside pocket.
“Spare me the warning label,” he said. “You had me at ‘kill the bitch’.” Cain looked at Dean, then at Emily.
“Good luck,” he sighed. “You’re gonna need it.”
“Let’s get it over with,” said Dean, looking back, where more demons were trying to get through the door. Emily grabbed her angel blade and took a step back as Cain transferred the mark to Dean.
“Guys, we gotta hurry it up,” she said. Dean took a deep breath.
“Where the hell did you stash the damn blade?” he asked.
“Nothing can destroy the blade,” said Cain. “So I threw it to the bottom of the deepest ocean.” Emily looked over at Crowley, who rolled his eyes. “It’s the only way I could keep my promise to Colette.”
“Guys!” called Emily, seeing the door hinges starting to come off .
“You find the blade, kill Abaddon, but make me a promise first,” said Cain. Dean looked at him. “When I call you, and I will call, you come find me and use the blade on me.”
“Why?”
“For what I’m about to do.” That said, Cain snapped his fingers and Emily found herself next to the Impala. The demons all ran into the house, which lit up in a red light.
“Okay, I guess this is the time we run, right?” asked Crowley.
Emily, who was trying to sleep in the back of the Impala, opened her eyes as Dean stopped the car.
“He was right, you know,” said Crowley. Emily dragged a hand across her face. “You are worthy.”
“Oh, great, now you’re gonna get all touchy-feely, too? Is it contagious or something?” asked Dean, looking back to Emily.
“Your problem, mate, is that nobody hates you more than you do,” said Crowley.
“That is weirdly accurate,” said Emily.
“What happened to you?” asked Dean. “Where did he bring you?”
“He brought me to Colette’s grave,” she said. “He- he said he was going to give you the mark and that- that I’m supposed to keep you safe.”
“You?” Dean turned. Emily shrugged.
“Yeah, dude- that’s what he said, I- I don’t know.”
“Now that’s just great,” he said and stepped out of the car. Crowley did the same. “Crowley, you know I saw you, right? You did nothing to help us. You-”
“You knew!” said Emily, sitting up and following Dean. “That’s why you were just watching, that’s why you wanted me to step away!” Crowley shrugged.
“He would never have given me the blade,” said the demon. “But nobody can say no to Dean and Emily Winchester.”
“Let me guess, you also knew we were being followed,” said Dean.
“Yes. Cain would want to see his prize fighter up close,” he explained. “And surely, if he knew he had someone to look after him like a bloody babysitter, he would have been more… open to the possibility of giving you the mark.” Dean looked away for a moment and then punched Crowley.
“After I kill Abaddon, you’re next,” he said, massaging his hand.
“Nah. We’re having so much fun. Me and Emily are practically besties now.”
“Don’t push it,” said Emily. “You're still on the list.”
“You know, even with the mark, we’re gonna need all the help we can get,” said Crowley. Emily looked at Dean, then at Crowley. “How about we give good ol’ Moose a call?”
“Sam’s out of the game, you hear me?” she said. “You as much as say his name, I’ll show you what Azazel left me. And trust me, it’s not funny.”
“Scary,” said Crowley, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “I’m not gonna get in between your family drama, Sheep. I was just giving you advice.”
“Advice refused.” she said. “Now go find the blade.”
Feed The Machine
by Poor Man’s Poison
Emily stepped into the Bunker and took a deep breath. It wasn’t an easy decision, but living out of motels and the Impala for two months was enough. Not only they didn’t have a good enough reason to keep doing it, Emily actually felt guilty. The only reason they had been away from the only place they ever called home was because she didn’t want to go back. And she still didn’t, but Dean wouldn’t compromise on leaving her alone. Maybe he was right, maybe she needed the company so she wouldn’t completely spiral, but she also knew how much he liked the Bunker and how much it meant for him to finally have a stable roof over his head. So, she just had to deal with it.
“You good?” Dean asked, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. Emily looked at him and sighed.
“Yeah,” she whispered. “I just need a second.” She looked down in the bunker. Sam had been there. His laptop was on the table and his jacket was thrown on a chair. Dean walked past it and disappeared out of her sight. Emily walked back to her room and flicked the light switch upwards. Yellow-ish light flooded the room, and it was like time had stopped for the previous two months. A pile of Kevin’s notebooks was leaning off the desk, ready to fall the first time someone as much as walked by it, and a pair of used socks were absorbing dust in a corner. A few beer bottles were peeking from under the bed after rolling down there, that time Kevin decided pizza had to go with beer, but it was really just an excuse to get drunk. That night, they’d fallen asleep holding hands like teenagers, a phase of life either of them probably never had enough of. She picked the beer bottle off the floor and looked at it. Her hand moved faster than she could realize, and she threw it across the room and towards the door. Only, the door was open and the bottle missed Sam’s face by a couple inches, shattering on the wall behind him. He looked at it and sighed.
“What are you doing here?” Emily asked, opening her bag and trying not to look at him too long.
“I- I wanted to talk to you,” he whispered. Emily scoffed.
“Well, I don’t,” she answered, emptying her bag on the bed. The paper bag in which Kevin had put the sandwich he’d made her a month before, while they were fighting, fell out, spreading crumbs on her clothes. She looked at it, licked her lips, and then at Sam. “Samuel, get out of my fucking room.” she said. “I don’t want to talk to you, I don’t want to see your face or hear your voice, you should be thankful I haven’t shot you!” Dean appeared behind Sam, alarmed. “You think saying a weak little sorry is going to fix anything?”
“No, but-”
“There’s no but, Samuel, you- I don’t think you realize what you’ve done, okay?” Sam looked away and sniffled. “And you can cry all you want, but that’s not going to change that. I was going to die. I was okay with it. Trials or not.”
“Well, I wasn’t. Ever thought of that?” Sam said. Emily looked at her, hand holding the crumpled bag.
“Oh, really?” she yelled. “Really?!” Sam looked away. “I thought caring if someone dies was selfish, I thought that made me ‘just like Dean’!” Dean looked at Sam and frowned. “Here I was, thinking you’d know to let me go, because ‘if you cared about me you’d let me go’! Right?!” Sam looked away. “What? Don't you remember saying that to me? At least I had a good reason to die!”
“That's different,” Sam said. Emily looked at him and sighed. “You-”
“Different how?!” Emily yelled. “I opened the damned gates, I should have the right to kill myself to close them!”
“Why?” asked Sam, crossing his arms. Emily shook her head. “Why did you open them?”
“To try and get you back,” she said.
“Okay, so you fucked up the entire world, everybody’s life, just to bring me back.” he said. “And it didn't even work.” Emily looked away. “How am I the bad guy here?”
“Because Kevin’s dead, Samuel!” she yelled. “If you’d let me die, he’d be fine now!”
“Are you sure?” said Sam. “You really think you’d have died and he’d just… forget all about it?”
“You know what? M
aybe!” Emily yelled. “He’d have gone back to his old life, he’d have gone to college, and eventually- eventually I’d just be the fucking dead girl!” Dean dragged a hand through his face. ”Instead, I’ll always be the worst thing that ever happened to him! Because he’s fucking dead!” Emily looked at Sam, but Dean’s hand stopped midway through his hair. He looked at Sam.
“Wait,” he said. “The night he went to the church, how did he even get out of here?” Sam looked away. “You were supposed to watch him, how-” Emily looked at Dean and understood what he was thinking about.
“You let him go,” Emily said. “He thought he’d tricked you, but you did it on purpose, you- you let him go!” Sam’s mouth shut close. Emily’s blood boiled and she put a hand on her gun. Dean stopped her and stood in front of her.
“Emily, calm down,” he said, holding Emily’s hand away from the gun.
“I couldn’t let you die, okay?” said Sam. “And I knew- he was the only one who could bring you back alive.”
“Dean, move,” Emily said, trying to push past him. “Let me go!”
“Let me handle this, okay?” Dean said. “Don’t do this, Emily.” Emily looked at him, and Cain’s words came back to her. Dean was the killer, and she was the one supposed to keep him safe. She let Dean take the gun away from her and walked back into her room, slamming the door so hard the floor shook. She ignored Sam’s voice calling her from across the Bunker and went back to the stuff on her bed. Coming back had been a horrible idea. Coming back meant moving on, which meant living with all those things that reminded her of Kevin. It meant sleeping in the same place they’d slept, eating where they laughed, and living life with the ghost of what could have been. She stared at the crumbs on her bed. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t sleep there. The door cracked open, Dean letting himself in.
“Where’s Sam?” she whispered. Dean sighed and walked to the end of the bed, putting both his hands on the frame.
“Gone,” he said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know he would be here, he told me he was in Montana.”
“Look,” Emily sighed. “I get it if you want to go with him, I’m sure he’s going to be more useful than me against Abaddon.” she said. Dean walked closer to her.
“What the hell are you talking about?” he asked. Emily shook her head. “We don’t need Sam, okay? We can do this on our own.”
“Dean-”
“I’m serious,” said Dean. Emily looked at him. He was choosing her over Sam, and that had never happened before.
“Dean, I don’t know if this was a good idea,” she whispered. Dean looked down at all her stuff thrown on the bed. “I think I could have used some more time.”
“You wanna go back?” he asked. Emily shook her head, tears starting to stream off my face. “Okay, what do you wanna do then?”
“I- I don’t know,” she whispered. She dried her face with her sleeve. “But I know we have to stick together.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re the only person I have left, Dean,” she said. She shook her head. “Look, I know this isn’t us.” She picked up her head and looked at him. “But I could really use an older brother right now.” Dean looked at her. She had no idea what was going on in his mind, what he was thinking, but after a few seconds, he hugged her. It was weird, but her body didn’t reject it like it used to. It was like he had untied a knot that was keeping her together, and she started sobbing.
The weeks in the bunker were slow. Painful. Emily went out with Dean for a few cases, and she found it didn’t give her much satisfaction. Nothing much did, not anymore. The high of killing something lasted a few minutes, an hour at times, but then she’d just go back to feeling like she was missing something. Like she had unfinished business somewhere. She was finally understanding why ghosts went violent after a while. Not being able to finish something you care about was a feeling she didn’t wish upon anybody. Her unfinished business was Kevin, and the promise he’d made him that they were going to leave and have a normal life. It was college and a real job and a house that wasn’t covered in books about the supernatural. It was a promise she was never going to fulfill, because Kevin was dead. Her phone buzzed, and it was Crowley. She rolled her eyes and turned it upside down. Getting hit up twice a day for blood was starting to get old. She didn’t even get anything back from it, seeing he wasn’t looking for the First Blade. He was too busy getting high and having sex to do that. Dean walked into the kitchen as Emily’s phone buzzed again.
“Have you heard from Crowley?” he asked. “Like… at all?”
“No,” she lied, standing up to pour herself some coffee. “Did he call you?”
“Just a drunk dial, nothing useful,” he said. “I’m not even sure he actually said anything.”
“You know how he is, he’s gonna take his sweet time with this,” Emily answered. Dean poured himself some coffee, too, and leaned on the kitchen counter.
“Well, I’m gonna get that info one way or the other,” he said. “I’m heading to a crossroads, you wanna come?”
“Uh, no,” she sighed. “I- I think I’ll stay here, look up some stuff on Gadreel.”
“Alright, then,” Dean said, finishing the coffee and leaving the mug next to the sink. “I’ll text you if something comes up, okay?” Emily nodded and Dean left the room. She waited a few seconds, then picked up her phone to answer Crowley.
Give me a couple of hours
Emily walked into the hotel room and groaned, overwhelmed by a strong cologne and sweat odor.
“How about we open a window?” she asked. Crowley turned towards her for a second and didn’t answer, invested in a movie on the pay-per-view. The two girls who were sitting at the table, naked, raised her eyebrows.
“I didn’t know we were expecting a fourth person, my king,” said one of the two with a smirk. Emily looked at her and raised her eyebrows.
“Sorry,” she answered. “You look good, but that’s not what I’m here for.” The girl pouted and opened a bottle of nail polish. The smell of it mixed with the already persistent smell. “Make this quick, okay?” Crowley pointed at a pile of empty blood bags on the floor. Emily pulled up a chair and sat in front of the TV. She started drawing blood, the bag getting fuller by the second, and Crowley started crying. “Dude,” she sighed. “To Casablanca? Seriously?”
“Don’t judge me, Sheep,” Crowley said, drying his face. “Having feelings is hard!”
“You telling me that?” she asked. She blood filled all the way and she handed it to him. “Look, this is fun and all, but Dean’s gonna get suspicious.”
“No he won’t,” Crowley said. “Because you’ll be careful.”
“How about we make up a deal?” she asked. “I bring you the blood, you give me something back in exchange.”
“Like what, exactly?” he asked. “Let me guess, drugs?” Emily sighed. “Oh, Emily, you little junkie,” Crowley smirked. “How long have you been hiding this from your brother?”
“I’m not a junkie,” Emily said. “I need to do my job, and I can’t do that if I have three panic attacks a day.”
“Sure, sure, you need it, I’ve seen House MD, I know where this is going,” the demon said. Emily rolled her eyes. “So, what’s your poison, Sheep? I can get you as much weed as you want.”
“That’s not gonna cut it,” she said. “It barely works anymore.” Crowley stood up from the bed to inject himself with the blood. He looked at Emily and frowned.
“How about some diazepam?” he asked. “That should solve your problems right up.” Emily looked at the demon, then bit the inside of her cheek. Benzoes definitely worked to keep her calm. But did she really want to go down that route? She could have just found a better way to deal with it. She was about to say no, but then she remembered the sleepless nights, the uncontrollable crying, thinking she was going to suffocate, die, the dizziness and her hands going numb, the frustration of never being fully fine, and the urge to hurt herself. “You thinking pills or liquid?”
“Pills,” she sighed. “Crowley, Dean can’t find out.” The demon looked at her and moved his hand towards her. She shook it.
“See you next time tomorrow?” Crowley asked. Emily rolled her eyes and nodded. “Don’t be late.” Emily walked towards the door. “Sheep, wait,” she turned. “Can you take care of something for me?”
“What do you want?” she asked. Crowley gestured at her to come closer. She walked back to him. He leaned in.
“Her,” he whispered, pointing at the girl doing her nails on the other side of the suite.
“I’m not having sex with her,” Emily complained. “You were inside of her like- ten minutes ago, that’s disgusting!”
“Not what I meant,” he said. Emily frowned. Crowley mimicked a stabbing with his hands.
“What?” Emily asked, frowning. “Why don’t you do it?”
“Oh, come on, Sheep,” he said. “I know you like it. It’s in your nature.”
“What the hell does that mean?” Emily asked. The whispering attracted the girl’s attention. Emily smiled at her and she went back to blowing on her nail polish.
“You’ll understand when you’re older,” the demon said. Emily looked at him and raised her eyebrows. Crowley mimicked the stabbing again.
“What about the other girl?” Emily asked.
“Pet?” he called. The second girl looked up at him. “Do you mind giving us a minute?” The girl stood up and smirked as she picked up her underwear from the floor and walked towards the exit.
“Have fun,” she whispered to Emily while she walked out. Emily groaned. Crowley looked at her and pointed at the remaining girl.
“Can you at least tell me why?” Emily sighed.
“She ratted me out to Abaddon,” he whispered. “She has to go.” Emily rolled her eyes and took her angel blade from the back of her overalls. She flipped it into her hand, walked towards the demon, and killed her. She cleaned her hands from the blood on her legs and walked back to Crowley
“Can I go now?” she asked. “Or do you need me to kill someone else first?”
“I like your style, Sheep,” the demon said. “Azazel was right about you.”
“Okay,” Emily sighed and rolled her eyes. “See you tomorrow.”
Emily sat in her room, listening to music, when she heard the Bunker door slam close. She stood up and walked to see Dean climbing down the stairs.
“So?” she asked. “Did you get it?” she asked. Dean shook his head. “What the hell happened? I thought you said-”
“Yeah, well, I had it for a second, but Crowley took it from me.”
“He…” Emily frowned. “Why?”
“He knows I’m gonna use it on him,” Dean sighed, walking past her and to the kitchen. “Look, it’s… it was a long day, okay? I’ll call him, get it back, and we go do some redhead killing.” Emily nodded. Dean moved a glass towards her. “Want some?”
“Uh, no-” she said. She couldn’t drink, not with diazepam running through her system. “I just had some earlier, I’m fine.” Dean held up the bottle in front of him, checking the level. He shrugged and filled his glass. “I’m- I’m gonna head into town for some supplies, you need anything?” Dean shook his head and Emily walked towards the garage. She texted Crowley to meet her at the usual spot and sat into the Ford Thunderbird. She started it up.
Crowley greeted her with the usual slimy smile and Emily drew the blood bag out of her backpack without saying a word.
“Where are your manners, Sheep?” the demon asked. Emily didn’t answer. “Don’t be like that.”
“Dude, I know you have the Blade, don’t play dumb with me,” Emily said, blood already dripping into the bag. She clenched her fist and the flow got faster.
“But did your brother tell you why I took it?” the demon asked. Emily shook her head. “The more he holds it, the more he's gonna want to kill,” Crowley explained. “And once he starts killing, it's gonna be really hard for him to stop.”
“Right,” Emily said. “You're doing this out of the goodness of your heart because you are such a nice person.”
“I know,” Crowley answered. “I am surprised myself.” Emily waited for the blood to be filled, and handed it to Crowley. He put a hand into his pocket and handed her a yellow bottle labeled diazepam. He also handed her a joint. “Just a gift,” he explained. “Feel free to sit down and enjoy it.” Emily took a pill, then put the joint between her lips and lit it up. Crowley sat down on a chair, and Emily sat on the floor next to him. “If I needed help with something, let's say… some business I am running, would you be able to help?”
“Depends on what you want me to do,” Emily sighed.
“I don't need you to kill anybody, that's Dean's job,” the demon said. “Just… some stuff I can't ask Dean because he would be insufferable about it.”
“Fine,” she said. “But you're paying me.”
Emily woke up still tired. She looked through the darkness of her room and saw a light coming from her phone. She ignored it. Dean was in the Bunker with her, and Crowley was for sure still asleep. Who else could ever be calling her? If it was Sam, maybe it was better if the call went to voicemail instead of her answering. She didn’t have it in her to fight with him again. Sometimes it felt like she’d spent her entire life fighting with someone, when all she wanted was just quiet. She’d gotten plenty of that ever since Sam had left the Bunker. Dean was far from happy of Sam being gone, though he insisted they didn’t talk with him. She was starting to see how maybe Dean had been doing more for her than she realized. An entire life hating on him, but he’d always come around when she needed the most and she was starting to see it. He was the one who drove her somewhere safe when she was fifteen and had just cost them their only shot at Azazel, he was the one that saved her from roaming around in vampire-infested woods. It was him that medicated her arms and hid them from John. And he did all that without any telepathy, without ever knowing what she was feeling, just on instincts alone. He just knew what to do when nobody else did. Maybe he didn’t take all the right turns, maybe in trying to help her he’d been an asshole, sometimes he just acted like an asshole, but he wasn’t an asshole, not really. She had her share of fault in everything that happened, and even where she didn’t, she understood why he acted like he did. She was also a violent asshole when she was angry. So maybe it wasn’t the demon blood, or anything else she’d tried using as an excuse her entire life, it was just her. Maybe she was the problem. At that point in time, unable to sleep for more than an hour, crying half the time and staring into anything the other half, she definitely was the problem. But while the Bunker may have been quiet, her mind wasn’t. Not until her exchange with Crowley started happening. A bag of blood for half a bottle of Valium. That was the deal, and Crowley saw it through. That made it a lot more quiet. Her phone lit up again, but she didn’t move. She was still trying to get rid of the images of her nightmare, she didn’t want to talk to anybody. A few minutes later, she heard Dean’s voice down the hallway.
“I don’t know, Cas, okay? Maybe she’s sleeping,” he said, his voice getting closer. Emily took a deep breath. The door opened. “Yeah, she’s here, you can talk to her.” Dean handed the phone towards her and sighed.
“Hey Cas,” she said, her voice coming out deeper than she was expecting. She cleared her throat.
“Dean?” the angel asked. Emily frowned.
“No, Cas, it’s me,” she said. “I have the phone now.”
“Oh,” Castiel remained quiet for a while while Emily sat up in her bed. “You sounded a lot like Dean does in the mornings.” She looked at Dean and smirked. He rolled his eyes. “I need to speak with you.”
“Yeah well, you’re doing it right now, so, what’s up?” she asked.
“I have important news regarding your search for Gadreel,” he said. The sleep lifted off of Emily’s body. “I think we should talk about this in person.”
“Uh- yeah, definitely,” she said, looking at Dean again. “Text Dean the address, okay? We’ll be there.”
Emily walked in the building, and it was not what she’d been expecting. The places they met at were usually warehouses, abandoned buildings, places were black mold was having a field trip and touching anything out of the ordinary would probably grant a night in the ER. Not that time. Emily double checked the address on Dean’s phone, looking at an office building in downtown Lebanon. It was a full-on working office. The angel who opened the door said “The commander is waiting for you,” and she didn't ask questions. Not on account of not having any, on account of being too stunned to speak. She walked behind the angel, Dean following closely, past a huge map which seemed to mark spots in the country and then inside an office. Castiel was sitting behind a desk, waiting for them. The angel that escorted her hesitated into the room. Castiel looked at him for a long moment.
“Uh- dismissed?” he said. The angel nodded and left the room, closing the door behind him.
“Looks like you're a big shot around here,” she said, looking around the office. Castiel shrugged.
“It wasn’t my idea,” he said. “They insisted on following me.” The angel sighed and walked towards her. “How are you feeling?” he asked.
“Most of the pain is gone,” she said. “I’m fine.” Castiel looked at her and frowned.
“Are you sure?”
“I mean, I can stand for more than three seconds without passing out, so yeah, I’m fine,” she said. Castiel looked at her and sighed.
“Cas, why are we here?” Dean asked.
“I have two things for you,” the angel said. “The first one, is I know from a sure source that Gadreel is working for Metatron.” Emily looked at Dean and crossed her arms. “And second, I was wondering if you’d lend a hand with our fight against them.”
“Is that a question?” Emily asked. “I’ve been waiting months to put my hands on him.”
“I’m actually planning a diplomatic option,” Castiel said. Emily looked back at Dean, who huffed.
“I’m pretty sure you got the wrong guys,” he said. “We don’t do diplomacy.”
“I know,” the angel said. “That’s why I called you here.” Emily put her hands on the back of a chair and sighed. “We have a prisoner from Metatron’s inner circle. I need to know what they’re planning, but he hasn’t revealed anything.”
“So, you want us to torture him?” Emily asked. Castiel nodded. “Well, I’m down for it, but I don’t know-”
“Where is he?” Dean said. Emily turned. She looked at Dean, then at Castiel. The angel frowned.
“I didn’t think you’d accept,” he said. Dean shrugged. The angel stood up and walked closer to Dean, narrowing his eyes. “You feel different.”
“I don’t,” Dean said. “What? He’s a bad guy, okay? I-” The angel interrupted him by grabbing his arm and pulling up his sleeve.
“What did you do?” asked the angel, frowning. Dean shoved his arm back and sighed. “Dean-”
“Lay off of me, okay? It’s a means to an end,” Dean answered. “We need a way to kill Abaddon, and this is it.” Castiel looked at him and didn’t answer. Not in a ‘that’s fine’ way. More in a ‘we’ll talk about this later’ way. The room remained quiet until Dean cleared his voice and talked again. “Where’s this guy?”
Emily followed an angel to a locked room, Dean walking a few steps ahead. She stopped, feeling her phone buzz in her pocket. She took it and read the message. More blood, other side of town. Dean turned.
“What?”
“I- uh-” Emily hesitated and put away her phone. “I left something at home that I need to go get,” she said. Dean frowned.
“Now?” he asked. “Kid, we've never been closer to finding Gadreel.” Emily looked at him.
“Yeah, I- I know,” she said. “Just… I’ll be back in like half an hour, okay? I need- I need to go get my laptop.”
“What do you need your laptop for?!” Dean asked. “We're about to go torture this guy for info, what are you gonna do, take notes?”
“Dean, I have alerts for sightings of Gadreel on it, okay? I need to check it, just in case.” Dean rolled his eyes, but nodded.
“Fine, but make it quick, okay?” Emily nodded and rushed out of the building. Crowley called her and she answered while sitting in the Impala.
“What do you want, Crowley? I'm in the middle of something!” she asked.
“Me too, and I am running out of juice!” he complained. “What’s taking you so long?!”
“I said I was in the middle of something!” she repeated. “Give me ten minutes, okay?”
“Hurry it up, Sheep, I need that stuff!” Emily rolled her eyes and drove towards the meet up spot. Same old hotel, same old slimy smile. Emily put the pills in her pocket, drew the blood, handed it to the demon and drove back to the office. Dean was just walking out.
“So?” asked Emily, walking towards him. “You got the info?” Dean nodded.
“Yeah, thanks for the help, by the way,” he rolled his eyes. Emily crossed her arms. “Metatron’s angels are using a portal to enter heaven. It's a traveling portal. I don't think he knew where it is right now.” he explained. Emily sighed and threw her hands up.
“Great,” she groaned. “Just what I needed, another damn thing to look for.” Dean said something but she didn't hear it. Another damn thing to look for. Where had she heard that before? Another damn thing to look for- Oh, Harry Potter. She put a hand on her phone, her first thought going to ‘I gotta tell Kevin’, but then froze. Dean looked at her.
“Are you okay?” Dean asked. Emily nodded and tried to answer, but no sound came out. Her hand shook as she tried to open the car door. She sat in the passenger’s seat and closed her eyes. The door on Dean's side slammed, the car shaking back and forth. Emily took a deep breath. That would have been the perfect time to take one of the pills Crowley had given her. But she couldn't. Not with Dean right there. She had to tough it out until they were back in the Bunker. Dean drove back towards the Bunker, glancing at her as she tried to keep the tears at bay. “What is going on with you?”
“Nothing,” she whispered. “I'm fine, keep driving.”
Emily walked out of the car and into the garage as quickly as she could, the safety belt snapping back into the car. She walked to her room before Dean could catch up to her and leaned on the door. She slid to the floor, hand inside her pocket looking for the yellow bottle. She swallowed a pill and took a deep breath. She could keep it at bay until it kicked in. She could. Emily waited for the door to Dean's room to close and then lit up a joint. In the following five minutes, everything went quiet again. All she had to do from that moment on was to never think about Harry Potter again. She could do it, right? As her breathing went back to normal and her hands relaxed, her phone buzzed again. She dried her face and answered.
“What do you want, Crowley?!” she asked. “It’s literally only been two hours, do I look like a blood bank or something?”
“Oops,” the demon said. “Wrong fast dial.” He closed the call and Emily let her head back, hitting the door. Half a minute later, she heard Dean’s door open and the clicking of keys.
“Yeah, we’re on our way,” he said. “Sure, okay, send it over.” Dean knocked on her door. No, no, no, Emily thought, standing up. This place reeks of weed and I can barely stand. “We’re heading back out,” Dean said through the closed door. “Put out that shit and meet me at the garage.” Emily frowned at the door for a second. Did Dean know? Emily took a step towards the door and opened it, holding on to the doorframe to stand.
“Goddamnit,” Dean said, covering his nose. “You look terrible, dude,”
“What’s going on?” she asked, squeezing her burning eyes.
“This is the worst moment for you to get high,” Dean complained. “Crowley said he can give us Abaddon and he sent over the location of the blade.” He shook his phone in front of her. “Think you can handle that?”
“Sure,” she said, one leg giving out. Dean rolled his eyes.
“Five minutes,” he said. Emily left the door open and went back to take her bag.
“Don’t need five minutes,” she said. Dean looked at her and raised his eyebrows. He took something from his pocket and threw it towards her. It fell to the floor before Emily could figure out what he was doing. “I said-”
“Emily, what the hell are you doing?” he asked. “I know you got it rough, but isn’t this a little extreme?” Emily rolled her eyes.
“Would you rather I was stuck in my bed crying all day?” she asked. “Or that I had a panic attack in the middle of a job?” Dean shook his head. “I said I don’t need five minutes, let’s go.”
Emily slept through the drive, barely realizing they had stopped to get the blade. She saw Dean bring it back covered in a cloth and put it in the back, and went back to sleeping. She woke up halfway through Cleveland.
“Well look who’s awake,” Dean said, staring at the road. Emily dragged a hand through her face.
“Why didn’t you wake me up?” she asked. “I could have hel-”
“I don’t need your help digging up a blade.” Dean rolled his eyes. “Look, you know we’re gonna have to talk about this, right?” he asked.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” Emily said, sitting up straighter. Dean’s knuckles whitened around the steering wheel. She was in trouble.
“Are you sure?” he asked. Emily didn’t answer. Dean put a hand in his pocket and threw her the pill bottle she used to have in her pocket earlier.
“Did you go through my pockets?!” Emily complained. “Why-”
“It fell out while you were sleeping,” Dean said. “But I didn’t need that, I know someone high on weed when I see them, and that wasn’t you.” Emily crossed her arms and shook her head. “Don’t give me the attitude, okay? Popping something when you can’t sleep is one thing, we all do it, but you could barely walk!”
“Okay, and? I’m here, right?!”
“What if there wasn’t a four hour drive for you to sleep in?!” Dean asked. “Also- You’re mixing stuff? You know how dangerous that is?”
“Do you?” Emily asked. “I know what I’m doing!”
“And it shows!” Dean yelled. “Look, I don’t care how you deal, but you need to be able to do your job, you get me?”
“I am able to do my job!” Emily yelled. “I just- I just thought we were home, there was no way we were gonna head out again!”
“But we did!” Dean said. Emily didn’t answer. “Goddamnit, Emily…” he sighed. Emily bit the inside of her cheek and stayed silent until he parked in front of Crowley’s hotel. “Crowley said he saw some demons go into the basement, you check there, I’ll take the main floor.” He hid the first blade in his jacket and walked inside. Emily walked towards the stairs that led to the basement and started climbing down. The door slammed behind her. How was she going to get out of Dean knowing about the drugs? He was going to watch her, he was going to check her, of course he was, and he wasn’t gonna let anything slide. From that moment on, Emily was certain anything wrong she did, Dean would have thought she was high. That she’d taken something. He was paranoid like that. Just like when she’d benched her for months when she was fifteen. Emily opened the door at the end of the basement and found it empty. She already was benched. There was never anything down there, Dean knew. Emily was half asleep when Crowley had called Dean, but the call couldn’t have lasted more than three seconds. There was no way he gave him not only the address but also intel on where demons were in the building. Which meant Dean had sent her down there on purpose. Emily turned around and ran up the stairs, up to where she’d left Dean, and then up one more floor. She opened the door. Dean’s body hit the wall next to her and she flinched.
“Look, Dean,” said Abaddon, looking at her through the dark room. Dean turned, confused. “Your sister has come to see you die.” Emily felt a force dragging her towards Abaddon and then back into the wall as well, and she couldn’t react. Landing the hit with a groan, Emily tried to set herself free with her powers but only managed to move her hand a couple of inches. “Your tricks aren’t going to work with me, Emily, I’m out of your league.” Dean fell off the wall and walked towards Abaddon, who turned towards her, surprised. Emily used that second of distraction to force herself free. She fell to the floor and rolled an ankle, and when she looked up, Abaddon was falling to the ground in a pool of blood. Emily stood up and took a step towards Dean. He stabbed her again. Then again.
“Dean,” she called. He didn’t turn, and stabbed Abaddon’s body again. “Dean!” Emily walked closer. “Dean, stop!” The mark on his arm was lighting up, warm light illuminating the blood spraying everywhere. Emily grabbed his arm and stopped him. It was hot. Way too hot for it to be normal. The second her hands touched his arm, he stopped and looked at her. “She’s dead,” she said, taking the Blade from him. “It’s over.”
“Care to tell me what the hell’s going on with you?” Emily asked, sitting next to Dean in the car. He didn’t answer. “Hey, you don’t get to yell at me for doing drugs and then get out of jail free, that mark is doing something to you!”
“No it’s not,” he said, starting the car. “I just wanted her dead.”
“You think I’m stupid or something?” Emily asked. “You think Cain didn’t warn me this would happen?” Dean turned towards her and sighed.
“I had to do it alone,” he said. “I don’t expect you to get it.”
“No, what I understand is that you don’t think I can do this!” she complained. “Look, Cain gave me a job, okay? He gave it to me for a reason!”
“And what reason is that?” Dean asked, pulling a cassette out of the radio.
“I don’t know, Dean, but I can’t just ignore the fact that the Blade does something to you, something I don’t like!” Emily said, handing him the box of cassettes. Dean picked one without looking and pushed it in. He pressed play. “Do I have to take it from you?”
“No,” Dean answered.
“Fine,” she said. “I let you do your thing, but you let me do mine.”
“That’s not how this works, okay? You- you don’t get it, you-”
“And you do?” Emily asked. “I don’t know how you feel when you hold the blade, but I know once you have it you can’t put it down!”
“So what you’re saying is that I’m an addict?!” Dean asked. Emily looked at him and he glanced at her, eyes quickly getting back on the road. “Fine. But don’t show up to work high.”
“Fine.”
Emily entered her car with the end of a joint still in her fingers. Dean had figured out she was using, but he didn’t know about Crowley. Which was a good thing, because he would have put an end to that very quickly, and she really didn’t want to bother looking for a dealer in Lebanon. Too small of a city, word would spread way too fast and she wanted to keep the few friendly people in that place. With Abaddon dead, the only case they had to work on was Gadreel and Metatron. Finding them, especially. There had been no sign of them or any of their followers anywhere in weeks. The lead they had about a moving portal had gone to nowhere, and Castiel had been missing in action. She had to take matters into her own hands, but she didn’t know how. The first place to start had to be Castiel’s office. She parked next to it and entered, the usual angel greeting her. She’d come to learn a couple of names, which angels were really there to help and which ones were there out of fanaticism for Castiel.
“Afarial,” she called. The angel turned and walked towards her. “Can you do me a favour and bring me everything you have on Metatron and Gadreel?” she asked. “I need to check something.” The angel nodded and walked into a room. She emerged with another angel, both holding a pile of binders and a box of folders. “Do you mind if I bring these home?”
“No, ma’am, we got copies,” Afarial said with a smile. “Do you want me to tell the commander you’re here?”
“Uh, no, I- I need to get these home and start reading through,” she said. “But thanks.” Emily loaded all the documents in the Thunderbird and drove back to the Bunker. She put the boxes on the table in the library and took a deep breath. Dean walked inside.
“What’s all that?” he asked, holding a glass of liquor.
“Uh- this is everything Cas’ guys had on Metatron and Gadreel,” she explained. “I hope I can find out something they didn’t.”
“That’s… a lot of stuff to read,” Dean answered. “You want some help?” Emily looked at him, at the empty glass, his lips almost perched into a smile: he was drunk. She shook her head. They had a deal, right? He would let her deal with her problems however she wanted, she did the same. It wasn’t her job to stop him. Even if it was constant, and scary, and it barely helped at all. She could see it in his face that he wanted to kill something. He was at his limit.
“I’m fine,” she said with a smile. “Besides this… this is better done by myself.” Dean nodded and walked away. Emily grabbed an empty notebook from a shelf and sat down. She had never sat down to study that much stuff. She was gonna have to lock in and use everything she had and she couldn’t afford to break. Even if sitting down to study reminded her of Kevin, even if while she was thinking she kept ending up staring at the place where he’d died. She just had to find a way. And the way sat in her pocket. She swallowed a pill and opened the first binder. Fifteen hours in, Dean walked in and handed her a burger. Emily didn’t notice him until she called her name. She looked up.
“How’s it going?” he asked. Emily shrugged.
“I narrowed it down to somewhere in Kansas City,” she said. “But that’s like a thousand miles radius.”
“You’ve been going at it for a while, maybe you should take a break,” Dean said, leaning on the chair. “Forget the burger, we can go grab ourselves some chinese.” Emily looked at him. He had no idea what that phrase was doing to her. He had no idea those words brought her back on that boat, desperately trying to convince Kevin to take a break. She took a deep breath and nodded. She needed the break before it all became too much and she wound up crying on the floor. She followed Dean to the garage and into the car. He walked into the restaurant before her and handed her a take out menu. She stepped aside to read it, but Dean touched her shoulder. She looked up and he was looking at the TV hung in a corner. It was a news segment on a homeless protest in Kansas City. And there he was, first row, holding a sign Emily couldn’t make out, Metatron. A few rows back, hiding behind someone, was Gadreel. Emily looked at Dean and didn’t need to talk. He dropped the take out menu and rushed back to the car. Emily sat next to him and didn’t think about packing, about weapons, she knew there was a bag in the Impala at all times and she could figure out dirty clothes. The car started and Dean pushed it to its limit. The engine struggled to keep up as they raced through the dark roads and made it to the camp in three and a half hours.
The Guardian
by Shawn James
Emily and Dean entered the camp from the back. Each one of them had an angel blade. Emily had taken a jar of holy oil, which she planned to use to stop Gadreel from running. Or burn him alive, she still hadn’t decided. The point was, that was going to be it. She was going to take her revenge, and she would feel better. Everything would be better, because she would have had that revenge she’d wanted for almost a year. Dean and Emily separated to follow their targets. Emily snuck into a room and looked at Gadreel through a broken wall. He was talking with someone, whispering something Emily couldn’t make up, and then remained alone. Emily looked down to check if she still had everything, and when she looked back through the wall, he was gone.
“Looking for me, Emily?” asked the angel. Emily turned and saw him in the middle of the room. She didn’t think about warding, she thought she had more time. “I see you’ve come to kill me.”
“And you still came,” she said. “That was a stupid move.” With a flick of her hand, Gadreel’s body flew across the room and landed on the wall closest to her. The angel struggled. “You know, I thought a lot about what I would say,” she said, walking towards him with the angel blade in her hand. “But now that I’m here, I don’t need any answers, I don’t need a long speech about how you ruined the only good thing I’ve had in a long time.” The angel smirked. “I just want you to suffer.”
“Oh, Emily,” the angel sighed. “You really put up a good act, but you forget I was inside of you.”
“I haven’t forgotten that, don’t worry,” she said, pointing the blade at his neck.
“You know what I haven’t forgotten?” the angel said. “How scared you felt when you were fall-” Emily stabbed Gadreel’s arm. He screamed. “I see,” he said, catching his breath. “You don’t want me to say that.” Emily looked at him, blade still deep in his arm. “My point still stands, you’re scared. You’re always scared.”
“I’m not scared,” Emily said. “Not of you.”
“Oh but you were, Emily,” she angel said. “The part of you I had to occupy, she fought.” Emily took the blade out of his arm. “She fought with everything she had, and then she curled up in a corner and started crying. Have you ever wondered why you felt so different? Why you didn’t get as mad?”
“Maybe because you still hadn’t murdered Kevin?” she asked, blade rotating between her fingers. “Don’t take credit for stuff you haven’t done.”
“I did you a favour by locking up that part of you,” the angel smirked. “It was a shame I had to go and ruin it all.” Emily stabbed his other arm. “Funny thing is,” he groaned. “You’re still just as scared.”
“Sure thing, buddy,” Emily said, taking the blade out again. She turned around to clean the blood off her face, powers still focused on keeping him against the wall.
“Then why can’t you even say it?” he asked. Emily froze, then made the hold on his throat stronger. He choked on his blood. “Say it, Emily, say you were in l-” Emily turned and punched him. His nose gave out, more blood spraying on her face. “Coward!”
“Yeah, well, at least I’m not a murderer,” she hissed, blade once again pointed at Gadreel’s throat. “You know what your problem is?” she asked. “You think you know me, but if you really knew me you’d know you shouldn’t make me mad.”
“All you’re good for is crying,” Gadreel said. “Crying and hiding, that’s all you do.” Emily shook her head and huffed. “That’s what killed the prophet, not me.” Her head clenched around the blade. “Have you ever wondered what would have happened if you weren’t in denial about your feelings?” Gadreel asked. “What would have happened if you’d let Kevin save you when he still could? He would still be alive.” Emily swallowed. “You killed him, Emily,” the angel said. Emily looked at him for a second before dipping the angel blade in his stomach. The angel screamed, blood falling out of his mouth as he died. Emily let the body fall to the ground. She looked at him as the grace flamed out of his eyes and he stopped breathing. He was dead. Emily stared at the body for a long minute, waiting for something to happen inside of her. But nothing did. She didn’t feel better. She didn’t feel relieved. She just felt exactly as before. She walked out of the room, looking for Dean. As soon as she turned into the hallway, she heard fighting. She rushed towards it, but it was late. She saw Metatron disappear in the distance, and a body slumped across the floor. She ran towards it. Every step she took, the figure became clearer, until she had no doubt left that it was Dean. In the rush to get close to see if he was okay, she fell to the ground. She put her hand on his stomach, trying to stop the bleeding, already panicking and trying to come up with a plan, which hospital to go to, which story to tell, when he grabbed her wrist.
“Emily,” he whispered.
“It’s fine, Dean, I’m here,” she said, taking off her backpack. “You’re gonna be okay.”
“Emily, stop,” he said. Emily frowned, hand already wrapped on an old t-shirt she was going to use to stop the bleeding. “It’s fine.”
“Dude, no it’s not, okay? I-” Dean squeezed her wrist and she stopped. He looked at her. Dean was fine with dying. He’d always been, but having the mark had been way too heavy of a burden to keep carrying. He was tired of feeling like he had to either kill something or go crazy. Emily knew exactly how he felt, if she closed her eyes she could still feel the pain of trials and her body begging her to let go and just die. And she hated Sam for saving her. She hated him for not listening. “Dean, are you sure?” she asked. Dean nodded. She felt her eyes fill up with tears.
“Did you do it?” he asked. Emily nodded, her hand firmly pressed on his wound, knowing full well it was the only thing that was stopping him from bleeding out in minutes. “You don’t look happy, kid.”
“I- I-” Emily sniffed. “It didn’t change anything,” she whispered. “He’s still dead.”
“You’re gonna be fine,” he said. “You’ll get through it.”
“What if I don’t?” she asked, tears falling down her face. She didn’t want to say it. She knew it wasn’t right, telling Dean she needed him, but she also knew she wouldn’t know how to carry on alone. She needed someone. Dean’s eyes closed slowly and then opened back up.
“Emily, I need to tell you something,” he whispered. Emily nodded, drying her face. “I need to thank you.”
“For what?” Emily asked. “I was the worst person to have around for our entire lives, Dean.” She swallowed and looked away.
“Yeah, but you gave me a second chance,” he whispered. Emily dried her face. “You’re not a kid anymore, Emily.”
“I know,” she whispered. “But I’m still your little sister.” Dean smiled through a bloody cough.
“You never needed anybody to tell you what to do,” he said. “So you’re going to be fine, with or without me.” Emily looked at Dean close his eyes for one last time, his hand losing grip on her wrist. There was no point in trying to bring him back because he didn’t want to be brought back. He had made a decision and Emily wasn’t going to be the one to take over that. She hated Sam for doing it to her, but she was hating herself for letting Dean die. He was too heavy to carry out on herself, and she wasn’t in the mood to call Sam. Fuck. She had to tell Sam, didn’t she? He was going to find out one way or the other, and it was better if she heard it from her. But first, she had to get out of there. She took her phone out of her pocket, it was covered in blood, Dean’s or Gadreel’s, she didn’t know. All she managed to dial was Crowley's number. Not that she had any other alternatives.
“What do you want, Sheep?” he asked. “I'm busy.”
“You better zap your fat unholy ass down here,” she said. “And quick.”
“No need to be rude,” said Crowley, appearing in front of her. He looked at Dean's body. “Oh boy,” he sighed.
“Get us out of here,” Emily said.
“Oh, good, I thought you were gonna ask me to bring him back,” said Crowley with a sigh of relief. “I’m glad it’s something I can actually do.”
“Am I supposed to believe that?” Emily asked. “You're king of hell, of course you can bring him back!”
“Sheep,”
“Stop calling me that!” Emily yelled, “Just get us out of here!”
“No, Sheep, you're not listening. I can't bring him back, because he's simply not dead.” Emily frowned.
“What are you talking about?!” Emily turned towards Dean. “Of course he's dead, asshole!” In a blink, Emily found herself back in the bunker, alone in her room. She tried to open her door, but it was locked from the outside. “Crowley?!” she called, banging on her door. “Get me the fuck out of here!” The demon appeared in her room a few minutes later.
“Sheep, there's something you need to know,” said Crowley. “I can, in fact, bring Dean back.”
“That’s not what I asked you to do!” she complained. “What the hell is going on?”
“Don’t get your panties into a pretzel, Emily, as I said - he was never dead.”
“Crowley, I am not in the mood, okay? Just- open the damn door so I can give him a proper f-”
“Do you promise to keep an open mind?”
“Crowley!” Emily yelled. “He’s dead, what open mind do I need?”
“He’s not dead, he’s simply… changed,” the demon explained. “into something closer to you and me.”
“What the fuck did you do?!” she asked. Crowley shrugged.
“Me, nothing,” he said. “This is just the consequence of his actions.” Emily looked at him, confused. “The mark- it feeds off violence. You know what else feeds from violence? Demons.”
“So?”
“So, your dear brother isn't dead,” said Crowley. “He just doesn't know how to open his newly black eyes.”
“You’re kidding, right?” Emily asked. “He’s a demon?!”
“See, I knew you would be open minded about this,” Crowley said with a smirk. “I think it's time we… let's say… end the stigma.” Emily tried to speak. “Dean's going to open his eyes- and they'll be black. That don't mean he's evil.”
“He's a demon, of course-”
“Open minded, Sheep.” Emily shook her head. “He's not going to be any different than he's been since he got the mark. Also, this is going to make you closer,” he said. “You know, demon blood and all that.”
“What are you trying to say?”
“I'm trying to say, Sheep- you're untapped potential. You were - and still are - Azazel's greatest experiment.” Emily threw her hands in the air and paced to her desk. “I think it's time you let yourself go a little.” As he said that, he disappeared. The door unlocked. Untapped potential. Whatever it meant. Maybe he had a point. Holding back had only brought her more pain, more problems. She walked to Dean's room to find him gone. He couldn't have gone far, right? Wrong, because he was a demon apparently. She dialed Crowley's number. He appeared next to her.
“What?!” he asked, annoyed. “I was just here.”
“I want in,” she said. Crowley's eyebrows raised. “I'll do whatever, just- I want in.”
“What the hell do you mean, you want in?”
“He’s a demon, fine, I don’t care,” she said. “He’s still my brother, so wherever he’s gonna be doing with you, I want in.”
“Fine by me, Sheep,” he shook his head. “Give me an hour to convince Squirrel.”