Brothers Keep Her

Night, Boys

"It can't be a ghost, Dean," Sam says, trying to control his rising impatience. "Since when do ghosts travel from their haunt?"

Dean points right at you. "When they're linked to something that travels."

You look at Sam, unsure how to defend yourself against Dean's insane accusations.

Sam can't defend you, either. Just a few hours ago in the ER, the EMF detector lit up as soon as Sam placed it in your hand. "It doesn't make any sense."

Dean storms toward you, stopping a mere foot away. "Any organ transplants?"

"What?" Your brow wrinkles as you try to comprehend what's going on. "No."

"Then it's her clothes. Jewelry. Something." Dean returns to the mini fridge. "And why the hell is she wearing your clothes?"

You look down at the sweatshirt you're wearing over your own shirt and Jonah's basketball shorts.

"She was cold. What about the heart, huh? Explain how the ghost butchered that guy in the men's restroom that [Y/N] had never stepped foot in," Sam clenched his fists as he squared his shoulders.

You're still standing inside the salt circle with shards of the broken lamp on the floor around you.

"Oh, she was cold," Dean mocks. "She was in the building, Sam. In. The. Building."

"The heart is a werewolf thing."

"A were-ghost. It's possible."

"That throws things at her?"

"Were-ghost-geist."

"Dean!"

Dean whirls around and glares at you. He opens his mouth to say something but Sam cuts him off.

"I already tested her." You and Dean both look at him. "No reaction to holy water, no reaction to the silver chain she's holding right now. Go ahead, look. It's in her hand," Sam nods at you. "She stepped right over the salt with no problem. She's not responsible for any of this. She's caught up in the middle of it. She's a victim, just like all the other people we've ever saved. And she passed right over the demon trap you drew," he said, pointing at a little shag throw rug.

You tested me?

Dean eyes your clenched fists as his jaw grinds. Then he chugs the beer in his hand and tosses the bottle in the general direction of the trash can. "How do you suppose we keep her safe? You want to take turns standing watch? She can't stay in that circle all night."

Sam studies you, but you don't notice because you're staring at the silver chain in your hand. The circle pendant has a symbol on it just like the one you saw on Sam's chest. "No. We can pour a circle around the bed."

"How's that going to stop it from throwing crap at her?" Dean asks, scratching the back of his head, eying the debris at your feet.

Sam shrugs and shakes his head like he's out of ideas.

"We have no idea what we're dealing with, Sammy. None of it makes any sense. How do you expect to protect her?"

Sam looks at you. "I'll sleep with her." His eyes widen. "Um, that came out wrong. What I meant was that I'll sleep next to you so that I can... uh... I'm a light sleeper."

Dean snorts on his way into the bathroom. "Since when."

Your cheeks are burning and you feel Sam's unease. You swallow the extra saliva that pools in the back of your mouth and ask, "Is it okay to step out of the circle now?"