Brothers Keep Her

Kanaima

"Are you sure?" Dean asks Sam in the study of their secret underground bunker.

The doctors gave you enough meds to get you through the excruciating pain you will still endure, though they leave you feeling groggy.

Sitting at a table by a desk lamp, you can't help but gaze around the room and marvel at it all. It was a long drive to get here; you slept most of it, and Dean was purposely vague about its location. Your head is too foggy to care about that anyway. You just want to know you won't be strung up in the dark by an invisible force again, or have lamps heaved at you from thin air.

"I checked it out myself," Sam tells him. "Of all the burned bodies they recovered in the morgue, McFarlane's was not there."

"Someone stole the body."

"Looks like it."

"What are they trying to hide?"

A chill ripples through your core and you shiver.

"We should get her in a room," Dean says. "She's pretty doped up and should probably still be lying down."

"I want to help," you tell him, trying to look resolute and in control, but their expressions tell you you've failed.

"Come on," Sam says, lifting you from the chair by the arm. "No more talking at least until tomorrow. Doctor's orders."

You sigh and catch Dean chuckling off to the side, watching you and Sam with a little gleam in his eye. You remember what he said to you in the hospital when he thought you were sleeping, and look up at Sam.

He senses it and looks down at you. His smile is sincere. You look away, not sure whether you should encourage looks like that from him or not. Dean said some pretty heavy things, and you have no idea what these guys go up against on a daily basis. This is just one case for them.

"How's your hand?" he asks you as he opens a door and ushers you in. The room is small and humble, but there's a twin bed, a nightstand with a lamp, a dresser, and a writing desk. It looks like it hasn't been updated in eons.

You look at your hand; you hadn't thought about it recently. The marks are still there, and you wonder if they will scar, leaving you with a permanent reminder of these two spellbinding boys.

"I just put fresh sheets and blankets on the bed for you. When you're feeling better and can move around a little, call me. I'll come help you get around. We can take that brace off later, as long as the swelling keeps going down." He punches his number into your phone and saves it into your contacts. Then he leaves it on the nightstand and pulls back the covers.

You know Dean said you would be safe here, but you know nothing about this place. Your eyes are wide as you glance around the room.

With a tender touch, Sam sits you on the side of the bed and crouches to remove your shoes. When you flinch at the pain in your neck triggered by moving to lie down, he cradles you and lies you down on the pillow as carefully as he can. "Thanks," you whisper. Anything louder than that hurts.

He nods. "You're welcome. You don't have to be afraid here. Nothing can find this place. It would have to be invited in, and trust me, whatever this is is definitely not." He pauses as he gazes at you before snapping out of it like he'd been in a trance. "I'll be out in the study for another few hours. Try to get some rest."

***

You wake to an unfamiliar ceiling in a room with unfamiliar smells. It takes you a moment to remember where you are. Sam had left the lamp on for you, supposing that the dark may be a bit more ominous to you, now. And he is right.