Holy Water [Dean Winchester]

8: Psycho Killers

Dearest Readers,

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BTW I am alive, thank you for asking.

XOXO Ally Layne.

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They had been driving for a long, long time. And with two men who have been surviving off of junk food for the past week as her only companions, it was quite grotesque sitting in the backseat of the Impala.

However, she decided that she would sooner lose her mind from their nearly-constant arguing rather than from the stench of their farts.

"I don't understand, Dean. Why not?"

Dean's grip on the wheel tightened. "Because I said so."

"We got the Colt now!"

"Sam-"

"We can summon the crossroads demon, pull the gun on her, and force her to let you out of the deal-"

"We're not summoning anything-"

"We'll just shoot her!"

Dean shook his head. "We don't even know if that'll work!"

"If we just shoot her then the deal will go away-"

"We don't know if that works either, Sam, all you're pitching to me is a bunch of 'buts' and 'maybes' and that's not good enough because if we screw with this deal, you die!"

Sam's eyes darkened in fury. "And if we don't screw with it, you die!"

"Sam, enough! I am not going to have this conversation!"

Sam laughed mockingly. "Why, because you said so?"

Dean nodded, eyes piercing out onto the darkened road. "Yes, because I said so!"

"Well, you're not dad!"

Persie's mouth dropped open. She had only known these men for about a month and even she knew to steer clear from the topic of John Winchester.

This must've just violated some sort of bro-code.

"No, but I am the oldest-"

Sam let out a heavy sigh, leaning his head back against the headrest.

"And I'm doing what's best!" Dean turned his eyes from the road to look at his brother intently. "You got to let this go, do you understand me?"

Persie pursed her lips and leaned her head back against her seat.

When Sam didn't answer, Dean decided to bring up the newest case. "Tell me about the psychotic killer."

For once, Persie thought that she would much rather be in a room with that psychotic killer than with these two while in an argument. At least she could kill that psycho, whereas she was told from Bobby to keep these two psychos out of trouble.

Alas, it's as if these two were just as bad at attracting trouble as she was.

"Come on, Sam, tell me about the psychotic killer."

Sam let out another sigh and took out the newspaper he had been reading before. "The psychotic killer," he read aloud, "rips people apart with a brute like ferocity."

Persie started flipping riptide in pen form around with her hand.

"Okay, any mention of his razor-sharp teeth or his four-inch claws, animal eyes?"