4.2 | n i n e .

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          "SO- YOU REALLY trust this guy, dontcha, kid?"

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"SO- YOU REALLY trust this guy, dontcha, kid?"

Her hands were clammy and her tongue was like sandpaper against the roof of her mouth. Bobby's voice was surprisingly gentle and calm after she had explained her encounter with the angel.

"I don't know, Bobby, it's just- he's never given me a reason not to, y'know?"

The man in the driver's seat nodded solemnly, although he couldn't deny how naïve the words sounded as they left her mouth. He eyed her from his peripheral; she had a leather jacket pulled snugly over a blue flannel that belonged to one of the brothers, and her snarled brown hair was tucked into Bobby's red and gray trucker cap.

The man knew that this mystery angel could end up hurting her, but, still, he couldn't help but feel immensely thankful that at least one of the Winchesters' innocence was still intact. Regardless of how many times she was hurt or betrayed, Makayla always saw the best in people. It was her optimistic and trusting nature that held the brothers together.

"What the hell am I gonna tell De?"
The question was more directed towards herself, as she was thinking out loud, but Bobby didn't want his girl to worry.

"The truth. You ain't got nothin' to hide, girl. Your brother can't get mad at you for bein' honest."

"Oh, yes, he can."
She laughed half-heartedly as she rubbed her eyes with her thumb and forefinger, a small smile gracing her lips.

"Well, damn him, then. You need to remember that all the blame ain't on you. Your relationship with Dean runs both ways, darlin'. It ain't always your fault. Believe it or not, your 'perfect' twin brother ain't nearly as perfect as you think he is. Sometimes, he's the one that's gotta make things right. Not you."

Makayla nodded her head, her brows furrowed in thought. As badly as she wanted to grovel in her own self-deprecation, she knew that Bobby was right and she hadn't done too much wrong.

Yet, at least.

The pickup truck rolled to a stop in front of a white two-story house, and Makayla was out of the car with a pistol in hand before Bobby could shift the car into park.

The Impala pulled in behind them and the three men followed behind her as she lifted her leg and kicked the wooden door in, the red oak splintering just slightly under the pressure.

She motioned for Sam to go to the left, Bobby to go upstairs, and Dean to follow her towards the right. Her older brother rolled his eyes at her order, but obeyed nevertheless.

As the twins split up and Makayla entered the living space, her stomach churned.

"Dean?"
She called apprehensively, her nose scrunched up in disgust.
"I think... she's dead."

"What'dya mean, 'you think?' Are you sure?"

She heard him quickly approaching, but his sarcasm was unbearable. She groaned in utter exasperation.

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