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          "SO THAT'S it?  You just

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          "SO THAT'S it?  You just... woke up?  Buried alive?  With the damn Earth crumbling all around you?"

Makayla had her forefingers pressed against her forehead, as if soothing herself from a headache.  She was seated in the passenger seat of the Impala, her twin behind the wheel and her younger brother in the back.

"And the gas station?  Just like at Pamela's house, huh?"

Dean offered a shrug in return to his sister's curiosity, who sighed in response.

"Jesus.  And the only clue we have as to what the hell pulled you out is that its name is Castiel and it burns out your eyeballs if you look at it.  Just another Winchester Thursday, huh?"

Sam chuckled from the backseat and Dean's lips turned upwards.

"Do you... do you remember it?  Hell, I mean...?"

Dean shook his head too quickly, and Makayla pursed her lips; however, she figured it was not the time nor place to pry.

"And what about you, Sammy?  What's kept you busy these past four months?"

Dean wiggled his brows at the boy in the backseat, who offered a hesitant smile.

"Just... hunting, I guess."

"Hunting... you guess?"

The girl questioned, turning to face him.

He was shifting rather uncomfortably, and she shot a look over at her twin, who returned the same suspicious gaze.

"Yeah, I mean... I just- kept at it.  It's what you wanted, Dean.  I didn't want to let you down."

At that, Dean's face softened, but Makayla's apprehension barely faltered.  She could still sense the reluctance.

She would've, perhaps, dwelled on it longer, if it had not been for the fact that the attention had, begrudgingly, drifted elsewhere.

From the stagnant tension that not filled the air with discomfort, Makayla knew that both pairs of eyes were on her.

She refused to talk without a direct request.

Her gaze was directed straight forward towards the gravel road they were driving on, her bottom lip pulled between her teeth.

"How about you, Mak?"

Dean's voice was softer now, gentler.  Seeming to say 'you don't have to talk if you don't want to.'

But choosing to not talk about it would make her boys worry.  And she couldn't have that.

"Dean, I'm fine, I swear.  Same thing as Sammy.  Hell, I had this one hunt at a museum that had artifacts from an ancient Egyptian burial chamber.  Did you guys know that pharaohs had their servants killed and buried in their tombs so they could serve them in the afterlife too?  It's fucking gruesome.  A slave was attached to one of the canopic jars that hold damn organs and the spirit was lashing out at anyone that seemed like an asshole dictator or something.  A CEO of this huge company got murdered because of it, but I was able to catch on pretty quick-"

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