Brothers ◇ SPN

We Gotta Eat All The Evidence.

Chapter Song - Too Fast ~ Sonder

Isabella's POV

A lot of things happened when we got back from the hospital. First there was the long drive home, with me riding shot gun and Sam sprawled out on the Impala's long leather back seats. Our clothes were still soaking and we still looked a mess. But we didn't talk, we had come far too close to no one ever talking to Sam again.

When we finally arrived back at the bunker, Cas was called home from his angel emergency to heal Sam's wound. Once that was done, I could feel us all let out a collective sigh of relief. Slowly, everything returned to normal. Normal, except the girl in the trunk.

It had been Dean's idea to question her, rather than just murder her on the spot. Though when he said question, I hadn't realised that what he meant by that was torture. In the beginning, Dean wouldn't let me come into the dungeon with them. Instead, I was left to hear the muffled screams as an outsider, unable to forget what was going on in the darkened room.

It wasn't the demon I was worried about, it could burn in hell for all I cared. And it probably would. The thing that kept me up at night was it's vessel. I knew that Sam wouldn't hurt anyone innocent for the sake of revenge, he wasn't the type to avenge himself. But that demon had stabbed him, and to Dean, that meant that everything he did to the girl was justified.

On the third day, I was allowed in. It wasn't a decision Dean made lightly, but I suspected it was part of the agreement he and Sam had made in the hospital. That they had already shielded me to the point where I wasn't ready to be out there. So that day, it was my turn to flick the water, to hold the knife. It was a day that despite all attempts, I would never forget.

On the fourth day, Dean decided that we had all the information we needed. And as much as we knew he wanted to slit it's throat, he wouldn't let the girl die. Not today. So the demon was exorcised, and we sent her on her way with no explanation and fifty bucks to help her get home.

But that was yesterday. So by today, we had all moved on.  I woke up around eleven and slumped into the kitchen wearing an oversized US Navy shirt I found in a pile by the dryer, I figured the boys wouldn't miss it.

"Mornin' Izzy," Sam greeted as I sat at the table beside him. The second he was healed I had hugged him so tight that it was if I would never let him go. Even now, it felt as though every time a blinked, he may have disappeared. But now he was looking at my shirt, smiling.

"What is it, Samuel?" I asked, sipping the coffee Dean had just placed in front of me. He had mostly given up correcting me.

"Your shirt, it's Dad's, back from when he was in the Navy," he told me, sliding a pop tart across to me.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know, I just found it and-"

"No, no. Keep it, it suits you," Sam assured me. I smiled, somehow knowing it was my Dad's made me feel a little closer to the man I had never met.

"I didn't know he was in the Navy," I told him.

"Yeah, before we were born. He was good," Dean chimed in from where he was by the cooker. It looked as though he was baking, though I couldn't get my head around the idea of Dean baking. He just says he started when they first ran out of pie.

"Sam, when we were in my old house, you said I could start reading his journal. Can I do it as like, part of my training?" I asked.

"Of course, I'll get it for you later," he replied, a small smile on his face, as if we was picturing a good memory.

"Well, I'm going to go get changed and go out," I told them, finishing my coffee.

"Where?" Dean asked, now done baking and moving to sit with us at the table.