The (Other) Nephilim

Chapter Twenty

Episode Seventeen: Game Night

"Here, it'll work if you move the bucket."

"No, I got it."

"You've gotta make it snap."

"I am snapping it!"

Dean tried again. We were sitting in the Telescope Room/Library -- apparently that's what Sam and Dean call it -- playing one of the many board games that we had gotten out for "Game Night." After a few more tries in attempt to get the boot to kick over the bucket, Dean slammed his fist on the table and yelled, "SON OF A BITCH!"

I scoffed, "Whatever happened to this relaxing you?"

"Shut up," he mumbled, and reset the game just as Jack and Mary came out. I hadn't met Dean's mom before tonight, but I immediately took a liking to her. She was almost like the mom I never had. Having said that, I still hadn't talked to her that much. Honestly? As sweet as she was, Mary could be really intimidating. I'd begun to kind of think of her as my secondary mom, first being Rowena, who had come by to visit a few times since I joined the Winchesters. She even took me to her apartment once! Dean looked back at them and announced, "Alright, Winchester Game Night is a go! Soon as Sammy gets back here with the two double-pepperoni meat blasters... and a pineapple."

"I like it," Jack smiled.

"Yeah, it's like a crime against humanity."

I rolled my eyes, "It's not that bad!"

"You missed a call," Mary told Dean as she handed him his phone. He held his phone up to his ear to listen to the voicemail and immediately frowned, waving off Jack, who was adjusting the bucket, as I had suggested earlier. Dean stood and walked past us, earning a "What's wrong?" from Mary.

He lowered the phone and replayed the message for us, on speaker this time. It was Donatello, and his voice sounded raspy, as though he was dehydrated. "Dean," he gasped. "It's me. It's Donatello! I need help. You and Sam... help me please!" Then, in a language none of us recognized, "Hith-'o-rehr, shqodh ki'o-yivkha has-sa-tan, k'ar-yeh sho-'ehgh, mith-hal-lehkh, u-mvaq-qesh 'eth asher yval-leha'." The phone beeped and he redialed, taking a few steps toward the stairs.

After a second Dean sighed and faced us. "Sam's not answering his phone. This whole damn town's a dead zone. Alright, we gotta go."

"What do I do?" Jack asked.

"Stay here. When Sam gets back play him that voicemail and have him call me on my spare. Got it?"

"Got it," my cousin replied.

"So much for game night," Dean grumbled as he walked off, Mary trailing behind him. I followed them, but when Dean noticed, he stopped me. Putting a hand on my shoulder to keep me from moving forward, Dean snapped, "Woah, easy there tiger. You're staying too."

"But I want to help," I said.

"I'm sure you do, but whatever got Donatello, I don't want it to get you too. You canhelp next time. Just stay here with Jack and wait for Sam."

"But Dean, I can help!" I insisted as he and Mary walked off.

Dean yelled with finality, "You're staying here!" before slamming the bunker door shut.

Eventually, Sam got back with the pizzas. "Hey Dean, sorry I missed your call, I got pulled over for speeding. Dean?"

"Dean and Mary went out to save Donatello," I grumbled.

Sam's eyes widened, shocked. "What?"

Unenthusiastically, I nodded, "Yeah, they left like, half an hour ago. Just the two of them. Without me." And I'm still pissed off about it.

"Here," Jack played the voicemail. "Dean said for you to call him on his spare." Before he had even finished speaking, Sam was dialing his brother. Jack whispered to me, "Do you think they'll get to Donatello in time?" I nodded. "Yeah," he muttered, reassuring himself. "Yeah, it'll be fine. Everyone's gonna be okay. Dean and Mary are gonna save Donatello, kill whatever captured him, and then be back before the pizza's cold!"

I didn't have the heart to tell him the pizza was definitely past that point.