I see the bad moon arising. I see trouble on the way. I see earthquakes and lightnin'. I see bad times today. Don't go around tonight, Well, it's bound to take your life, There's a bad moon on the rise.

(Lyrics from "Bad Moon Rising" - John Fogerty) —————————— Club Andros WestEnd...

The day shift at Club Andros was usually pretty quiet. Day crowds are usually more interested in grabbing a liquid lunch than doing any heavy partying. Compared to the night and weekend shifts, the day shift was tame. Most of the time, it was pretty boring. Every now and then, some douche bag would try to start trouble, but that's what I was there for. To keep the peace. I kept myself awake by drinking copious amounts of coffee and watching the clock tick.

"Hi, Dean," a pretty blond named Tina smiled at me as I entered the club. I grunted a reply which ended in "coffee" and suddenly found three separate cups being shoved at me by three separate girls. I smiled my thanks, choose a cup at random, and meandered over to the bar. The gaggle of girls giggled behind me, and I rolled my eyes. I was barely even awake yet, and they were already on the prowl, like a pack of predatory cats. It wasn't even noon yet.

"What's the matter, Dean-o?" the bartender on duty, whose name just happened to be Sam, asked as I settled myself on a stool and took my first sip of morning coffee. "Your girl keep you up too late last night or you got a hangover?"

In all honesty, it was neither. I'd been having trouble sleeping ever since Cas pulled me out of hell, but the night before I'd stayed up late researching Black Dogs, of all things. Gabriel Ratchets. Hell Hounds. Whatever you want to call them. Hard as hell to kill. I knew that only too well. They'd dragged my ass to hell once, and they'd killed Jo. I didn't want to tangle with them again, but I'd promised Spade I'd help. It was what my brother and I did. We helped people. The problem was I knew how to kill one if I had to, but stop someone from becoming one" That was outside my area of expertise.

"Had trouble sleeping," I muttered, shoving a hand through my hair and glancing at my reflection in the mirror that lined the back wall of the bar. Christ, I looked like crap. Felt like crap, too. I had thought about taking the day off, but I was already there. Might as well tough it out.

"I bet I could help you sleep." I heard a woman's voice behind me and turned to find myself facing a stunning redhead. Sultry. Sex on two legs. Gwyneth Paltrow had nothing on her. She reminded me of Jessica Rabbit, only she wasn't a toon.

I blinked and swallowed and muttered stupidly, "Uh..." My heart belonged to Quinn, but apparently, my eyes had a mind of their own as they wandered over her more than ample curves.

I looked over at the bar, but Sam had abandoned me, going to wipe glasses or whatever it was that bartenders did. It was just me and the sultry redhead. She looked like trouble. My brain flashed a warning, but I was too stunned and sleep-deprived to think straight.

The redhead reached over and walked her scarlet-painted fingernails over my chest. "What's the matter, handsome" Speechless?"

"No," I muttered, swallowing again. Was it getting warm in there or was it just me" "I'm on duty." I turned a little to let her see the word "Security" emblazoned in big, white letters on the back of my shirt.

"When do you get off duty?" she asked, smiling and running a fingernail against my arm hard enough to scratch.

Normally, I'd probably like the attention, but there was something about her that didn't sit right with me. Call it instinct. Call it experience. Call it second sense. Call it whatever you want, but I got a bad feeling about her. I trusted her about as far as I could throw her.

"Listen, sister. I'm flattered, really, but I'm not interested."

She frowned, pouting at me with lips as red as her fingernails. "What's the matter" Don't you like girls?"

I had to laugh at her insinuation. I liked girls just fine. That wasn't the problem. "I'm taken," I told her. I'd never said that before in all my life, and it sounded strange coming from me, but I meant it. She might have tempted old Dean, but new Dean was off the market.

She sighed, a little too dramatically, as if trying to sound disappointed. "The good ones always are."

I removed her hand from my arm and turned back to the bar to retrieve my coffee, muttering an apology I didn't really feel was necessary. "Sorry."

"You aren't, but you will be."

I turned back around to ask what the hell she meant, but she was gone, like she'd never been there at all. I didn't know it yet, but it was the first sign of trouble.

(Cross-posted in Dragon's Tales - A Sanctuary.)

There's no cure for the pain. No shelter from the rain. All our prayers seem to fail.

Dean carefully looked over the drawing, having memorized in his mind what the tattoo should look like. He was pretty satisfied that the guy had it down. It looked like an exact duplicate to him, so long as it went on just as it was drawn. After a moment, he handed it to Quinn, satisfied and flashed a look at the guy. "Nobody likes a smartass."

"Oh, I don't know about that. I hear some folks are pretty fond of them." He gave a very pointed look at Quinn and then a grin at Dean.

Quinn took the sketchpad and looked it over. She knew just as well as Dean did what it was supposed to look like. She had traced that design over his heart with her fingertips many times before, committing it to memory just like she did with every other bit of him. She nodded and looked up to Dean. "That'll do?" She smirked silently, catching the look from Dougie out of the corner of her eye.

He flashed another quick humorless smile. "Cute. Yeah, it'll do."

She held the sketchpad back out to Dougie. "Ready when you are."

He hated the thought of having to do this and now that they were actually doing it, it seemed he suddenly realized just how serious and important it was. "Nothing says love like matching tattoos," he quipped, trying to sound as casual as he could.

Dougie took the book and got to his feet. "I'm going to go make a copy of this. Did you know where you wanted it?"

He looked to Quinn, holding his tongue and letting her answer that question.

She smiled up at Dean. "This is just about as forever as our initials in that tree." Quinn then looked back to Dougie and without hesitation her leather jacket was shrugged from her shoulders revealing a simple back halter top. It might have not have been the warmest thing to wear in this weather, but she figured it was the easiest way to keep here modesty considering the placement she had in mind. "Between my shoulder blades." A hand reaching over her shoulder to pat lightly at her own back while the coat was dropped onto a nearby chair.

Dougie looked down at the paper thoughtfully. "Shouldn't have to resize it much at all then." He nodded to her. "I'll be right back. You can lay down on the table while I'm gone, get comfortable." He moved towards the door and tugged it open stepping out before shutting it behind him.

He pursed his lips, holding his tongue until Dougie stepped out of the room, then he turned to her, a serious look on his face. "You can still walk away. It's not too late," he told her quietly, once Dougie left. He didn't want to lose her, but he had to give her one last chance to walk away, to live a normal life untroubled by demons and monsters and ghosts and whatever else might cross their paths.

She furrowed her brows at him and shook her head. "I'm not walking away, Dean. If this is what I have to do to be safe and to be with you then I'll do it." She stepped towards him, reaching out to take his hand in hers. "This....in my opinion, is a drop compared to everything that I get when I'm with you. Do you understand that?" "Safe?" He repeated the word back at her. "There is no safe, Quinn. This is just a precaution. I can't make any promises. Do you understand that' Almost everyone I've ever loved is dead. They're not coming back. And I don't think I could take it if..." He trailed off, his fingers curling around hers. She needed to understand exactly what it meant to be with someone like him. He knew somewhere deep down inside that if something happened to her, it would destroy him. Her expression looked a bit wounded as he spoke. She shook her head. "I can't believe you think I could just walk away. That I could just turn my back on you and leave. I can't do it, Dean. It's you and I now. And if it's not....well....that won't be my doing. Not by my hands." He looked down at her, searching her eyes, her wounded expression like a dagger in his heart, but he had to give her this one last chance. When he found his voice, it was uncharacteristically quiet. "I love you." He didn't finish the rest of his thought. The part about how he didn't know what he'd do if something happened to her, how the thought of it terrified him. He hoped those three little words said it all.

She offered a soft smile, stepping closer to him she echoed his tone. "I love you, too, Dean. No matter what happens I love you so much and this, what we have, isn't something I'm just going to be able to walk away from. So we stay. We fight if we have to. Because it's worth it." The statement followed by a determined nod.

He wrapped his arms around her to hold her close, burying his face in her hair, wanting to keep her safe in his arms forever. He heard the determination in her voice, though he was unsure she really understood what they were up against. Still, he couldn't walk away from her, couldn't imagine his life without her, especially now that he had given up everything to stay in Rhydin. It was where his heart longed to be, there with her.

She leaned into his grasp pressing her cheek against his chest. "We'll be okay, Dean." Not that she really knew for sure, neither of them did. But she had briefly let that stubborn optimistic streak of hers fade out and it was high time she brought it back.

"Yeah, we will." He wanted to believe it, had to believe it. If there was one thing he wasn't, it was a quitter. He had no intention of going down without a fight.

The door of the small room opened and Dougie popped his head inside, he rolled his eyes briefly at the entangled couple then gave a solid cough so they were absolutely aware they weren't alone so they would stop getting their touchy feeling emotions all over his work space. "We good?"

He deposited a kiss on Quinn's head and smiled over at Dougie. "We're good." He looked back at Quinn, tilting her chin toward him. "You ready?"

She smiled at the kiss and even more at Dean's confirmation. She had a feeling the answer held a bit more to it then just telling Dougie they were done with their PDA for now. Quinn nodded as well. Her gaze was lifted up towards Dean and her smile only grew. "I'm ready." She leaned up on her toes, one quick peck along the edge of his jaw and then she looked back to Dougie. "Okay. Now we're good."

Dougie gave another brief nod as he closed the door behind him. He moved back to his rolling stool beside the table and took a seat. The cushioned table was given a pat. "Alright, let's get the show on the road then."

His smile widened a little at her kiss. Somehow she always had a way of making everything seem better. He reluctantly disentangled from her embrace.

When she was released she turned to the table and carefully lowered herself onto it, turning her body and stretching across it on her stomach. Her arms were folded in front of her and she smirked looking over her shoulder at the guys. "This....is a little awkward. Not even going to lie." Said as she chuckled.

Dougie pulled on a pair of rubber gloves and set to prepping his tools on a tray beside him. "Just imagine how awkward it is for the girls getting tramp stamps." He replied matter-of-factly.

"You do a lot of those?" Dean asked, somewhat curiously. He was nervous about the tattoo, but he was trying not to show it.

She wrinkled her nose at that. "Oh gross. Probably have to have your butt hanging out to get it." She shot Dean a teasing smile, trying to lighten the mood since she really did feel just as nervous underneath it all. "That's next, eh?"

He lifted his brows at Dean and replied dryly. "You ever look at the kind of girls roaming around this town?" At the same time he was placing his hand on Quinn's shoulder guiding her to lay flat instead of propped on her elbows as she was. She followed then the ties of her halter along with blonde locks were moved aside to bare her shoulder blades and back.

"Only if it says 'Property of Dean'," he smirked. He moved over to stand beside her. He didn't want to get in the way, but he wanted to make sure the tat was done right.

"We'll have Dougie draw it up." She smiled, turning her cheek to lay it against the table though her gaze was lifted up towards him. A few slow deep breaths were taken as she began to mentally prepare herself. She had gotten a tattoo before, this was true. But last time she was getting ink it was shortly after Natalie's death. She was so numb inside and out it didn't matter. The pain of a simple needle couldn't compare to everything she was feeling back then when it was all on the outside, so fresh and new. This was different. True, both were based on love. But one was a memorial, this was a promise.

Dean looked over the tools the man had gathered, his gaze sliding to Quinn. He grabbed a chair, pulled it over toward the table, and settled himself in it, reaching for her hand. He pushed some stray blond hair back from her face, his fingers grazing her cheek.

She let out another slow breath and closed her eyes briefly at Dean's touch. She had butterflies in her stomach, but she knew her nerves would have been a lot worse if it wasn't for him being right there.

Dougie picked up a piece of somewhat translucent circular paper he had brought back into the room with him, the design identical to Dean's could be seen on one side. The paper was was carefully aligned along Quinn's spine between her shoulder blades, painstakingly nudged this way and that before it was pressed down onto her skin. He moved about on his rolling stool picking up a piece of sponge from the tray table and sliding to the sink where he went and wringed it. Then he moved back to Quinn pressed it onto the paper. "It's like the fake paper tattoos you used to get when you were a kid." He explained although he kept his eyes on his work.

He was carefully watching everything Dougie was doing, not because he didn't trust the guy, but because he this was too important to let get screwed up. "It has to be perfect," he reiterated for the umpteenth time. He looked back at Quinn, knowing she was probably nervous and trying to figure out what he could say or do to help ease her mind.

She furrowed her brows. "Dean..." She understood he was only trying to protect her, that he didn't want this messed up and it was much more important than just two dopey lovers looking to get matching ink. But still...."Have faith." After she said the words she thought they sounded a bit odd, but it was true. They had a long road ahead of them and as much as it was him and her against Hell knows what, sometimes you had to put your trust in others no matter how hard it was.

"You want to do it yourself?" The question directed at Dean though Dougie didn't stop what he was doing. The moistened paper was slowly peeled from her skin leaving the design in its wake. It looked just like Dean's except at the moment in a faint dark blue. "How's that?" Asked as he nodded his head down towards Quinn's back.

He mirrored her expression, more than a little surprised at her choice of words. Faith' He'd lost his faith in a lot of things a long time ago, but maybe she was helping him find his faith again. Before he could respond, Dougie drew his attention back to the work at hand and he leaned closer to examine the design. He nodded his approval, looking just a little bit uneasy.

She gave the faintest of shrugs at the look he gave her. She couldn't explain it and wasn't going to try in front of Dougie. Instead her gaze followed him as he leaned in. "Is it going to look alright?" Her brows furrowed at his expression. That wasn't what she wanted to see before something was going to be inked onto her skin forever. "Is it okay?" "Yeah, it looks good." He looked back at Quinn and gave her a reassuring smile. "It's gonna look awesome." Her own expression calmed just a bit at the smile. Finally, she returned her own grin as she spoke. "Alright, Dougie, let's do it." He nodded again to Dougie, as if to give him permission to continue. He took Quinn's hand between both his own and gave it a gentle reassuring squeeze.

At Quinn's words his gaze lifted to Dean since he seemed to be the picky one out of the pair even if it wasn't his skin. At the nod he gave one in returned. A piece of paper towel was lifted and doused in a bit of liquid from a nearby clear bottle. The tattoo gun was picked up in his other hand and dipped in ink before he turned to lean over Quinn. "Alright, just relax." The words spoken over the hum of the tattoo gun. "Tell me about the first time you played in public." Dean wanted to try and distract her from the pain he knew was coming and the nervousness she must be feeling. He thought maybe if she talked about something that was important to her, maybe she'd be able to relax a little bit.

With souls to be saved. And faith regained. All our tears wipe away.

Dean darted a look at the tattoo artist. "Almost done?" Even though his gaze was still down one his work it was like he could feel Dean's nagging gaze the moment it was on him. "Just about."

He nodded. The man was almost done and he was almost out of idle conversation, at least of the sort he was willing to share in front of a stranger.

"But it's sooo far away." She gave a pout but it didn't last long because an excited smile broke out across her face. "You and me, Baby, it's in ink now." He chuckled a little. "What is" Valentine's Day' It's not that far away." "Yes it is." She tried to sound stubborn but she was too excited to almost be set free with a new tattoo for her time. The tattoo gun went silent, but this time it was set down on the tray beside him. The tattoo was given another wipe to clean off all the excess ink. "Good thing you asked for it to look good," he tossed the paper towel onto the tray while looking up at Dean. "I was planning on doing this one with my left hand and my eyes closed. Glad you made the distinction." He gave a pat to Quinn's shoulder. "Ready to check it out in the mirror?"

He didn't want to argue with her, so he let the subject drop. He'd never really celebrated Valentine's Day before. He'd never had any reason to. This was new territory for him. He ignored Dougie's sarcasm and leaned over to examine the tattoo before she did.

She pushed herself up to her elbows, but when Dean leaned over her she went still again so he could inspect the work. She peered up at him over her shoulder waiting for a seal of approval. Or for him to sock Dougie.

Dean took a moment to look it over, carefully examining it and making sure it matched his own. After a moment, he nodded to Dougie and leaned back in his chair. "Looks good. Nice work." He didn't look concerned when Dean was looking over the tattoo, his confidence quite apparent when he also didn't look phased by the approval. "Thanks." He removed his rubber gloves and tossed them on the tray then grabbed a nearby hand mirror. He held it out to Quinn. "Mirror is on the back of the door." He pushed the chair back and moved to his feet, offering Quinn a hand to help her up from the table. "It looks really good, Quinn." She seemed more worried than Dougie and gave a large sigh of relief when Dean gave the thumbs up. She pushed herself up and took the hand mirror with a nod before sliding off the table with Dean's assistance. Carefully she combed her hair and the ties of her halter top over her shoulder as she walked to the door so she could get a clear view. She turned and lifted the mirror in hand peering at Dougie's handiwork in scrutinizing silence. He watched her nervously, hoping she would be pleased with the results, probably more worried about her reaction than Dougie was. The tattoo artist was indeed still his calm and cool self. He was probably just as cocky about his work as Quinn was with guitars and Dean was with shooting a gun. "What do you think?" His inked arms folding over his chest.

She didn't reply to his question right away but finally red lips broke out into a wide grin and she gave her own nod of approval. "I love it. It looks perfect." She lowered the mirror looking to Dean. "Looks just like yours."

He smiled over at her, unsure if he was happy about the fact that they had matching tattoos or troubled by the real reason behind it. "Yeah, it does." It was one worry off his mind. As far as he knew, she was henceforth protected from possession, though there were plenty of other things to worry about.

She walked back towards Dougie and held the mirror out to him. "You did an awesome job. Thank you so much." Her beaming smile proving she was a happy customer. Yes, she was getting the tattoo to protect her from demons. But on the plus side it was a good design and he did a quality job. Even better was that it would help Dean sleep better at night knowing that this little precaution was taken care of. "So, umm....what do we owe you?" He asked, reaching into his jeans pocket and pulling out his wallet. He'd never had a real job before, and he found himself reluctant to part with his hard-earned money. He took the mirror back with a nod to Quinn. "For you? Not a problem." He nodded his head to Dean. "But if you're stuck with this guy for the long haul you might want to help him with that mouth of his." He shot Dean a wide smirk. "Three hundred."

"Cute. That's real cute. And three hundred is highway robbery." "Three hundred." He repeated flatly as if Dean didn't hear him clearly enough the first time. He then pointed to Quinn and gave a pat to the cushioned table. "Take a seat so I can get you covered up before your boyfriend pays and you head out." He opened his wallet and tilted a glance at both of them, arching a single brow, sensing it was time to haggle. "Two." She smirked at Dougie with a shake of her head. "The mouth is just fine as is, but thanks for the advice." She glanced between Dougie and Dean as they started working out the price but when directed she sat down on the table with her back to Dougie. He waited to see if Dougie would accept the offer or make a counteroffer. He raised a brow at Dean. "Three and consider yourself lucky it's not four after having to put up with your complaining." He reached into a nearby drawer and pulled out a sterile bandage square and tape. It was set over Quinn's tattoo and carefully fastened into place. He then grabbed a piece of paper and held it over her shoulder for her to grab. "Instructions on how to clean and take care of it." Quinn reached up and absently took the paper, though she was much more interested in the battle that was happening between the guys. "I wasn't complaining," he scowled. "You'd do the same thing if you were me." It wasn't like he didn't have the money. After all, Pippi had finally paid up, so he had an extra 20K in gold stashed at the loft, but he was saving that for a rainy day or something. The club paid okay, but three hundred was three hundred. "Two fifty," he countered. Dougie gave him a hard look. After a long while he finally gave in him with a grim expression. "Two fifty. But that's only because of your better half." A nod of his head to Quinn who had risen from the table and was carefully putting her leather jacket back on.

He smirked. "I can't argue with that." He counted out a wad of bills and tossed them on a table. "You're good. I'll give you that." She snickered at the boys then batted her lashes when she was brought up. "Not just adorable, I also scores discounts without trying." She reached into the pocket of her jeans pulling out her own little fold of bills and held them out to Dougie for a tip. "Thank you again. It came out just like I hoped it would." Dougie glanced down at the bills but he wasn't going to pick them up until they left the room. Something about scooping up tossed bills that just screams stripper which didn't sit too well with him. But when Quinn extended the bills he took them and offered her a warm smile. "Not a problem. Come back anytime. You took it like a champ." His gaze then turned to Dean and he gave a shrug. "I know." He glared over at Quinn. "Did you just give him fifty bucks?" She turned a rather innocent expression on Dean. "Tip?" Yes, she absolutely did. He exhaled an exasperated sigh and rolled his eyes. "What's the point of haggling if you're gonna give him a tip?" He was getting wound up to debate this little minor detail. "I didn't tell you to haggle and I was planning on tipping from the beginning." She chuckled and tugged on Dean's jacket as she moved towards the door. This would be much easier to discuss without an audience which is what Dougie was acting as when he simply stared at the pair. She called back to him. "Thanks again! Have a nice night!" Dougie lifted his hand in a brief wave. "Same to you." He was too pissed about the tip now to pay Dougie any more heed. He'd gotten his money and a compliment and a polite farewell from Quinn. It was, in Dean's estimation, enough. She slowed her pace so her tugging to get Dean out of Dougie's workspace shifted to her walking beside him and looping her arm in his as they strolled towards the exit. She knew he was upset, but she simply gave him that bright red smile. "It's worth it." "It's not hair color, Quinn. It's a tattoo." He furrowed his brows. That hadn't come out right. Loreal, wasn't it' Because you're worth it. He'd been watching too much TV lately.

She blinked a bit. "What does hair color have to do with anything?" "Nothing. Never mind." He took a look around the street and led her toward the car. She lifted her free hand and passed it over the top of her head making a whistling sound. "Sailed right past." She laughed happily. Even if he was ticked off because of Dougie she was in good spirits. It was odd. It was a tattoo she needed now because of protection, but....it seemed like a lot more than that. Like it was proof that they were in this together now. He was slowly mellowing back down. At least, about as mellow as Dean ever got. "Are you ready to head home, Tattooed Lady?" She looked up at him with a nod. "Home sounds good right about now." She gave a squeeze to his arm. "Thank you for holding my hand." He fished the car keys from his jacket and smiled over at her. "Or we could get something to eat." She placed her hand on her stomach. "You know....I think after all that I deserve a chocolate shake." Said with a grin. "Who am I to deny you that?" He unlocked the car and opened the passenger side door for her, a small smirk on his face. "No one can deny me a milk shake when I earned it." She chuckled and slipped into the car winking as him as she passed. "Fifty dollar milkshake,? he grumbled as he got in the car, and off they went in search of a chocolate shake. He didn't really care about the money. It had been money well spent. This was only the beginning. He knew there was no limit on what he'd do to protect her, just as he had once protected Sam.

Ava would never understand why Moira enjoyed getting so friendly with humans, but now wasn't the time or place to ask. Hell, even if it was the right time or place she still wouldn't care enough to get into that conversation with the demon. She would much rather have nothing to do with Moira at all, but if they had to work together then that is what she would do. Nothing more, nothing less. With a faint wrinkle of her nose she made her way to a booth tucked in the back corner of the bar. "You're too kind." She said flatly before sliding into her seat and setting the newspaper down on the table in front of her.

Moira slid into the seat across the table from her cohort, taking a moment to look her over. She had always considered the other a rival, and while the other thought they had been chosen to work together on this particular assignment, Moira knew better. She smiled insipidly at her companion and tapped her red-painted fingernails against the glass with a sigh. "I know. I must be getting soft in my old age." She leaned forward, a grin curling her scarlet lips. "I found him. He's working as a bouncer in a club on the WestEnd." She could barely contain her excitement. "Everything they say about him is true. He's very yummy. I think I want a taste."

"Most likely." Ava flashed the briefest of dry smiles then raised a brow at her associate's enthusiasm. "Alright, I'll give you your credit for pin pointing him. With your diligent work we also now know that he's..." She sighed out the last word. "Yummy. And even though he could ruin all of Lucifer's plans you want to get with him just like a majority of the meatbags walking around. Anything else?"

Moira dismissed the other's concerns with a wave of her hand. "Psh, Lucifer Pucifer. He's already got his hands full. Besides, what is the point of going topside if we can't have a little fun now and then" And he's not just any meatbag, Ava. He's Dean Winchester." She leaned back in her chair, smiling smugly. "Wait 'til you meet him. You'll see. I am going to seduce him, and if you're lucky, I might be willing to share." She glanced over at the bar, where the man-boy was talking to another woman and narrowed her eyes. "Are we almost done here" I need to rip that bitch's heart out."

Ava pursed her lips at the blatant disrespect of Lucifer, but she wasn't here to preach. Not every demon had their loyalty in check, but when the cards were laid down those who were true would get what was deserved just as those who were not. "Is that your master plan, Moira" To get him in bed?" She actually looked amused, a feat considering she rarely showed any sign of emotions let alone positive ones. "You said it yourself. He's Dean Winchester. Getting him where we want him is going to take a bit more creativity than rushing in with guns blazing." She gestured to her cohort with a smirk. "Not that your plan isn't fabulous, Darling." Mocking edged into her tone as she glanced towards the woman who was writing her own death certificate by talking to the little boy Moira had her sights on for the night. "Just about done and then you can go have your fun while I do what we were sent to this hole to accomplish in the first place."

Moira pouted her lipstick red lips at her cohort's dubious mockery and clucked her tongue. "What's the rush, dear" He's not going anywhere. You need to relax and have a little fun. I know where he works. What more do we need to know?"

Ava folded her hands atop the newspaper in front of her. "Yes, well, as much as I would love to stick around here with you I think it would be much better to get this job in the books. And I just told you, storming his place of business or coming at him head on isn't going to work." She grit her teeth, irritated that Moira wasn't looking at the big plan. "What more do we need to know?" She echoed. "We need to know everything. While you were busy eyeing your dinner did you find out about the little piece he's gotten his hands on while here?" She slid the newspaper across the table to her opened to an older article of the Gossip GangSTAR. "Her name is Quinn."

Moira's blue eyes darted briefly over the article in the paper, and her mouth formed a thoughtful frown. "She's irrelevant. He said he was taken. He did not say by whom. Do you want to kill her?" She considered the girl to be a minor inconvenience, nothing more. Something to be removed from the equation. "Or do you wish to use her as bait?"

Moira was always so willing to toy with the boys, but girls were so disposable. At her last question Ava gave a nod. "Now you're getting it. Considering the Winchester boy would be able to pick up on a plan a lot faster than a civilian we'll simply work around him by going though this girl." She reached out and tapped a finger on the paper. "While you were focused on him I've been digging around about her." She smirked. "I knew you wouldn't have been interested in tailing her since his is so much more appealing to you."

Moira wasn't sure what her cohort had planned, but she knew her well enough to know she had a plan. Unknown to Ava, however, Moira had her own orders and her own plans, and they had very little to do with Dean Winchester's current love interest. Despite her thoughts, she smiled. "No argument there." She leaned forward, crossing her arms and resting them against the table, a conspiratorial gleam in her eyes as they bled briefly to black. "Tell me what you have planned."

Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams. Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me.

"How did she die?" the demon continued, playing on Quinn's grief, and hoping to stir up her sense of guilt and remorse.

Quinn visibly winced at the question. After all these years Dean had been the first person that she had really opened up to about Natalie. Time had healed nothing but when she looked over to Jaime and that sympathetic expression she realized that this was another person she could turn to. Jaime never had anything but her best intentions in mind right from the start and she was still just trying to help. "A car accident. Back home." More deep breaths doing her best to stay relaxed even though she rarely spoke about her sister without bursting into tears. Internally she repeated firmly, no crying at work.

The phony frown deepened, and the demon reached for the girl's hand to give it a reassuring squeeze. Her flesh felt convincingly human; after all, she was wearing a human body, just like a human would wear clothing. "I'm so sorry, Quinn. I wish there was something I could do."

Quinn gave the hand a squeeze in return, a brief smile forced for the other girl's benefit though it was there and gone within a moment. "Thanks, Jaime." Her gaze lowered, her expression unreadable as she worked the conversation over in her head. Finally, she glanced aside to Jaime. Her voice quiet. "Do....do you remember the book you read about it in" I mean....just wondering." Her gaze lowered again just praying her friend didn't think she was insane. She would just read the book. See if it had any new information. There was nothing wrong with that, right"

Jaime let go of Quinn's hand and furrowed her brows, as if considering the question and trying to find the right answer. "I don't remember, but I think I remember how it was done. It sounded really easy." She licked her lips and looked around the coffee shop, as if to make sure no one was listening, even though they were alone. She leaned close, lowering her voice to share the secret.

Quinn pulled her hand back, glancing around as well before looking back to Jaime. Her ear tipped in towards her. After all of her searching and sneaking around she couldn't believe she was finally getting the answers she had been looking for.

"First, you need to find the bone of a black cat."

"What?" Quinn pulled her head back with a wrinkle of her nose. "Where would anyone get that?"

Jaime shrugged her shoulders. "Pet cemetery?"

Quinn gave a slow blink. "That's sort of gross, Jaime."

"You asked." Jaime smiled. "Okay, okay. Maybe you can use a chicken bone. How would they know the difference?"

Quinn still looked slightly disgusted, but all the same she was committing her words to memory. "I don't think there's much difference between bones, but I guess it just depends on how picky a demon wants to get?" Actually saying it out loud, demon, caused her to give a small frown. Just last week she got a tattoo to protect her from them and now she was getting directions on how to summon one to her" What the hell was wrong with her" What was she doing" The answer was only one word. Natalie. She nodded. "Alright. The bone of a black cat."

Jaime nodded, continuing in hushed tones. "Then you need some graveyard dirt and a picture of yourself. Put them together in a box and find a crossroads. Dig a hole in the center of the crossroads, bury the box, and wait. And it has to be at night. The closer to midnight, the better."

Quinn nodded slowly as she mentally made a list of what she needed and had to do. Not that she was actually going to do it....was she" She still wasn't sure. It seemed so easy. Was this really all it took to get Natalie back after all these years" "Dirt, picture, box, crossroads, midnight," she repeated back in the conspiratorial tone. There was just one key piece of information that Jaime didn't know the details on. How much it would cost. Dean had told her once what he paid, but was every deal the same" "I heard....I heard it costs your soul." She wasn't even really sure what that meant. What was a soul anyway' Was it something you could live without' Would you just feel a little empty"

"Who told you that?" the demon who was Jaime asked, feigning curiosity. So far, so good. Everything was going according to plan, even better than anticipated. If things kept going this well, she'd deliver the Winchester boy to hell in a matter of days.

Quinn wrung her hands together a bit, the conversation obviously making her uncomfortable now. This wasn't the usual girl talk the pair shared between them about clothes and hair. But Jaime had helped her and didn't shy away from her during the entire odd conversation. "Dean did." The moment the words left her mouth she regretted it, but she wasn't sure why. This had nothing to do with him. It was about Natalie, herself, and....perhaps a demon.

"Dean?" Pseudo-Jaime blinked in mock surprise. "How does he know?"

She bit her bottom lip before giving a faint shrug. That wasn't her story to share. "Don't know. Maybe the same way you know" The same way I know now" I guess stuff just sort of gets passed around."

"Are you sure that's all it is?"

She ran her fingers through her hair pushing her bangs out of her face before turning her gaze on the wolf in Jaime-clothing. "What does it matter?"

The demon was playing on the girl's fears, feeding her doubts, prodding and poking and hoping to put the last nail in the proverbial coffin. All she needed was one last tiny push. "Because if he knows from experience, he looks fine to me." She smiled at the girl, playing the part of the teasing girl friend. "More than fine." She waggled her brows.

Quinn didn't say anything at first, but her shoulders seemed to relax a bit as she let that point sink in. Dean said it himself that he had traded his soul for Sam and as Jaime said....he was fine. Her silence was then broken by a light chuckle as she looked back to Jaime. "Alright, I agree with you there."

"Quinn, you know you're like a sister to me, right' If it was you, I'd do anything I could to bring you back. Anything."

The smile faded at the seriousness of Jaime's admission. It was touching and at the same time caused the guilt settled at her core to grow. She now had what she had been searching for. As long as it really worked she had a way to bring Natalie back. Would it work" There was only one way to find out and if she didn't at least try then what sort of person did that make her" "You're right." She nodded lightly. "I know you're right."

Demon Jaime smiled. "Of course, I'm right. That's what big sisters are for."

Quinn's brows knit together just a bit at that, but she offered Jaime a light smile. The job of being a big sister wasn't something she tossed around so freely, but who was she to think that' She had failed when it came down to it. And in the end Jaime's heart was in the right place. "Thank you, Jaime. You really helped and it means a lot to me." Her mind was still plagued with all of the pros and cons of this plan, but the con column was coming up short. Maybe her somewhat bright future was looking even better.

I went down to the crossroads, fell down on my knees. Asked the lord above for mercy, save me if you please.

Combat boots crunched along the snow as quick short steps carried Quinn through the darkened city streets, on her way to the nearest crossroads she remembered they had passed one night while searching for a pizza joint opened late. It wasn't far and she was almost there. Her arms were crossed tightly across her chest, hands tucked against her sides for warmth as she tried desperately to not think about what she was about to do. What she was about to come face to face with. Hell, she didn't know what to expect. She tried to push away the guilt that Dean was home asleep, unaware that she had left. The only thing she wanted to keep at the front of her mind was why she was doing this. Natalie.

She could see the intersecting dirt roads right ahead of her. She pushed herself even harder, moving just below an all out run. It was like ripping off a band-aid. She had to do it quickly without putting too much thought into it. This wasn't the time to lose her nerve. Not the time to back out. She had gotten off far too easy for far too many years. It was one night. One price. Her pace slowed when she approached the crossroads, steps coming to a halt as she peered around herself. Dead center. The night was so quiet. Peaceful. How could a night like this be so different for her and no one else be aware"

She took a few deep calming breaths before lowering herself to her knees and dropping her purse onto the ground beside her. It was opened and searched through before a small tin box was removed, giving a light rattle at the movement. Cemetery dirt and a picture of herself were easy enough. The black cat bone a gift from Jaime who stumbled upon it in one of those shops in the market that sold crystals, incense, charms, tarot cards, and the sort. She wasn't going to ask why she was there in the first place. Quinn was just relieved she didn't have to acquire it herself through much messier means.

She placed a hand flat against the ground then fingers curled, nails digging into the frozen ground. She grit her teeth at the cold but continued on, clawing at the earth until there was a hole big enough. Once that was done she glanced down to the tin but she kept her previous thoughts in mind. Don't think about it. Just do it. Do it or else you won't be able to look at yourself in the mirror. The tin was forced into the ground and quickly covered with the extra dirt. Both palms laid flat atop the spot once the job was done. Her eyes shut tightly. She wasn't sure what was going to happen, but it was done now. She practically held her breath in silence as she waited.

It didn't take long to get a response. The wind kicked up, howling like a banshee in the dead of the night, street lights flickering and buzzing for a moment before shattering, showering glass over the roadside and extinguishing any light save that of Rhydin's two moons, which cast an eerie, white glow over the scene.

The wind picking up caused her head to lift, eyes opening into slits just long enough to take in the flickering lights. At the sound of shattering glass a yelp caught in her throat and her eyes were once again closed, head bowed and chin tucked firmly against her chest. She almost looked like she was praying. Deep down she was wishing Dean was there. But in the end she knew she was alone in this.

A tall figure appeared in the shadows behind Quinn, a dark silhouette against the moonlit sky. "Hello, Quinn," a male voice greeted her, a soft, silky rumble of baritone. "I've been waiting for you." The figure stepped out of the shadows to join her in the center of the crossroads. He was tall and dark-haired with the handsomely chiseled features every woman dreamed about, but there was something not quite right about him, something sinister. "I know what you want. All you have to do is ask." He smiled, but the smile was cold, heartless, with no warmth or humanity in it, despite the body he was wearing.

When the voice touched her ears her head quickly jerked aside, peering at the man over her shoulder briefly before scrambling to her feet and spinning to face him. He stepped closer and she instinctively took a few steps back, her mouth moving though no sound came out. She pressed her lips together to catch her breath and words. She took one deep inhale through her nostrils and finally words escaped on the exhale. "How do you know what I want?"

He smiled again, looking almost amused as his lips curled into a sneer, and he took another step forward. "I've been doing this a long time, Quinn. Humans are predictable creatures. There are usually only three things they ask for. Fame, fortune, or love. I've got a pretty good idea what it is that you want, but let's pretend I don't."

It didn't matter if he looked human. She knew what he was beneath the surface and when he took another step towards her she countered with her own step back. "We can pretend all we want but considering you're calling me by name it's going to be a be a bit hard to suspend belief that you're in the dark." She tried to sound brave, but she wasn't sure if it was working.

He turned, slowly circling her like a predator stalking its prey. He gestured toward her with a hand as he spoke, clearly in no hurry. He clucked his tongue at her, like one might an errant child. "You're a musician. You could ask for fame and with that, comes fortune. But that's not why you're here. And love" What's love to someone like you?" He halted his circling, turning to face her again, narrowing his eyes and tilting his head to take a good, hard look, recognizing something in her that he hadn't expected.

A deep frown cut across her lips, her head turning this way and that to keep him in her eyeline. "I don't need a demon for fame. Obviously for everything you know you've never heard me play." She turned her body to follow his prowl and came to a stop when he did. "Don't need a demon's help for love either." She furrowed her brows at the hard look, but tried to pay it no mind. "I'm here for my sister. Natalie Benoit." Her chin raised at the statement, determination spilling through.

He smiled, pleased at her admission, knowing it would have only been a matter of time before she'd finally told him why she'd summoned him. "Ah, yes, your sister. Pity that she died. You blame yourself, no' Humans always do. So, you want me to bring her back, is that it?" He crossed his arms against his chest, watching her in the moonlight, toying with her, savoring the game as much as the reward at the end of it. He was confident that no matter how things went, he was not returning to hell without the promise of at least one soul, and if he was lucky, perhaps two.

Irritation came through on her expression but only because he was right yet spoke so offhandedly of the pain she had carried all this time. She pushed through the conversation. "Yes. I want Natalie back."

"Nothing comes without a price," he countered. "What are you willing to trade for your dead sister's return?"

Out of all that she had gathered this was the one thing that was left unclear. She folded her arms over her chest. "What do you want?"

He took a step closer, only an arm's length away now and smiled down at her, eyes bleeding to an unearthly shade of crimson. He had recognized her for what she was and knew she would be valuable, just as valuable as the Winchester boy. If he played his cards right, he might just get them both.

"I deal in souls, Quinn. You can't have one soul without giving me another. But there's not much point in having your sister back if you can't spend some time with her. I'll give you ten years with Natalie before I collect my fee. Ten good, long years. Time enough to make up for all the wrongs and heal the hurt. I'll even give you time to say a proper farewell. I can even take you home, if that's what you want. Time to watch your sister grow up and fulfill all her dreams before you have to say goodbye. It's a good deal, Quinn. You get Natalie back. She gets to live her life. She deserves it, doesn't she" That's what you want, isn't it?" He reached out to graze her cheek with a cold fingertip. "Her life, after all, is worth so much more than yours, isn't it' Her soul for yours, that's the deal."

Her face lifted, her gaze steadfast on his now. She would not cower. She would not back down. "Ten years for my soul?" It was the price she kept hearing so much about yet still knew so little. "A proper farewell" What happens after ten ye-" The questions were cut off when he touched her cheek, a wince spreading across her features as she tilted her head away. She didn't get to finish her questioning before the rest of his words sunk in. Natalie would be back, doing what she was supposed to be doing. Living. The soul of one slacker barista in exchange for someone so bright and worthwhile.

He failed to mention that her soul would be damned forever to hell. It was a minor detail and unless she asked, he felt no need to mention it. A soul for a soul. As far as he was concerned, it was a fair trade. "What do you say, Quinn?" he asked, smiling down at her, tilting her chin up to meet his crimson-red eyes. "Do we have a deal?"

Look what I've built, It shines so beautifully! Now watch as it destroys me.

The demon's red eyes flashed with anger and malice at her response. "So be it," he said calmly and closed his eyes, muttering something in a strange language, summoning the hounds from hell to come for their long-awaited quarry. He wasn't going back without one or the other.

Quinn didn't know what the demon was doing but she didn't like the sound of it. There was an audible gulp as her eyes darted around them.

A gurgling sound came from where Dean lay unconscious, and the body the black-eyed demon had been wearing spurted blood from a slash in his throat, an eerie light emanating from his eyes and mouth as the soul of the demon was destroyed. Another demon wearing the body of a red-haired female stepped out from behind the dead man, as he collapsed on the ground. A dagger with a jagged edge, strange markings engraved on the blade, was held in one hand, dripping blood.

Quinn's attention stopped on the demon that sputtered and was dropped. Her eyes widening at the woman. She had never seen her before in her life but she wasn't sure she had ever been so happy to see a stranger toting a large knife in her entire life.

The red-haired demon flashed a look at Quinn, as the sound of howling was heard in the distance. The summoning had worked, and it was only a matter of time before the hounds arrived to collect their prey. "Get him out of here!" she shouted at Quinn, referring to Dean.

Quinn twisted her gaze around at the sound of the howling. To her it just sounded like angry dogs but all the same whatever they were she didn't want to stick around. Hurriedly she grabbed her purse that laid at her feet and quickly moved towards Dean and the woman, her brows knitting together. "I can't carry him."

The crossroads demon's attention turned away from Quinn to the red-haired female, crimson eyes flashing with rage. "Moira, what do you think you're doing?"

"Hello, Nathaniel, what a pleasant surprise."

The red-eyed demon backed up, but before he could make his escape, she was upon him, shoving the jagged blade into his chest and twisting it into his heart, destroying him just as she had the other. "No souls for you tonight. Sorry, love." She withdrew the blade and dumped the dead man's body on the ground, then turned back toward Quinn, shoving the bloodied blade into a sheath she wore at her hip.

Quinn spun on her heels as the woman passed right by her and blinked as she plunged the blade into the demon's chest. "Thank God she's on our side," was all she could manage to mumble before turning back to Dean and dropping into a crouch beside him shaking his shoulder in an attempt to get him to stir. His face was pale and still in the moonlight. He showed no signs of consciousness, his breathing soft and shallow.

Moira retrieved Dean's .45 and shoved it into his jacket, then grabbed hold of his right arm, as the howling drew closer. "Help me get him into the car before it's too late," she told Quinn.

Quinn's frown deepened but she did as she was told and slid under Dean's other arm to help hoist him off the ground. She gave a groan under his weight but this wasn't the time to be weak. With Moira's help she began to shuffle Dean towards the car but the question ringing in her mind escaped her lips. "Who the hell are you?"

"My name is Moira. That's all you need to know right now," she told the girl quickly. If she wanted to save both their lives, this wasn't the time for idle chatter and explanations. She shifted her hold on Dean so that she took most of his weight, and together, they half dragged, half carried him back toward the Mustang. "Hurry up! They're almost here!" she barked at the girl, knowing they didn't have much time before the hounds arrived.

That didn't tell Quinn much but before she could protest or point that out, the girl was pretty much tucking Dean into the car all on her own as if he weighed nothing. She gave a blink at the girl's urging. "Hurry up and what?" She really did look lost for a moment before glancing to the driver's side door and back. Dean in his haste to get to Quinn had left the door open, the keys in the ignition, and Quinn realized she was going to be expected to drive. Hands lifted into the air, a hold it right there motion. "No way! This isn't going to happen."

Moira managed to get Dean into the car and shoved the door closed, flashing a look at the girl across the roof of the car. "This isn't the time to panic, Quinn! You hear them' They're hell hounds, and if they catch his scent....or yours....you're both as good as dead. You want to save him and save yourself, then go. Now. Not to the loft. It's not safe there. Go some place else. Some place no one else knows about. Especially not Jaime. I'll hold them off as long as I can."

A frown twisted on Quinn's lips and her hands dropped to lay palms flat across the roof of the car. Her chest was beginning to rise and fall rapidly but she nodded at the woman's urging. She didn't know who she was but she was helping them. "Fine....Fine..." She was running through places in her head where they could go other than that loft, but was interrupted by the warning. "Jaime?"

"There's no time to explain now. You just have to trust me. Stay the hell away from Jaime. She's not who you think she is."

What did that even mean' But the woman was right. Quinn could hear the howling of the hounds getting closer. "Thank you." That was all she had time to say before she was sliding into the driver's side seat of the car and slamming the door shut behind her. She balled her hands into fists mumbling just under her breath. "It'll be okay. It'll be alright." She felt the panic start to rise but she looked aside to Dean, unconscious in the passenger side seat. She had to keep him safe and this was not the place for that.

Moira slid the demon blade out of its sheath and backed away from the car, confident the girl would do what she was told, what she had to do if she wanted to keep herself and the boy alive. She turned and started in the direction of the hounds, disappearing into the shadows without looking back.

Quinn reached out to the keys and turned them, the Mustang coming to life with a roar and settling into a purr. The last time she was in this position it was at this point she was breaking down, but she had to hold together. If not for herself, for him. Her hand reached down to the shifter and with one silent prayer said to anyone who would take the time to listen she set it into drive and was off. She peeled around the first corner heading in the direction of the Southern Glen. Her eyes trained on the road but softly talking as she drove. "It'll be okay, Dean."

Feel your mouth on mine, you're saving me. Whatever happened to that silly dream you had" I want to make it real.

A brief look of panic crossed Dean's face as Quinn helped him into Emily's shack, and he glanced back over his shoulder. "The car....Did you lock it' Have you got the keys?"

Amazement engulfed Quinn's expression as she stared up at Dean. "You have got to be kidding me here."

He mirrored her expression, amazed at how she could think he was joking. When it came to his baby, he was dead serious. He shot a look at her, which indicated he was not kidding. "Where are the keys?" Yes, he had left the keys in the ignition at the crossroads, but that was different. It had been a matter of life and death and time was of the essence.

Quinn reached into her jacket pocket with her free hand and held them out to him. "Nice to know that knock to your noggin didn't rattle your brain around too bad. Still my Dean."

"Take more than a whack on the head to forget about my baby," he muttered to himself as he reached for the keys, looking more than a little relieved. He shoved the keys into his pocket and smirked a little as he looked back at her. "You drove. I don't have to be DD anymore."

She could only smirk at his love for the car then she shook her head a bit as she walked him over to the love seat to the right of the little shack and carefully set him down. "It was an emergency, Dean."

"Too much beer isn't?" He arched a brow at her as he slid onto the love seat, wincing a little at the stitch in his side. "Son of a bitch," he hissed under his breath, pressing a hand against his side. He wasn't sure which hurt worse — his ribs, his head, or his wounded pride.

Quinn straightened and opened her mouth to reply but Emily walked closely after the pair and gave a few sharp claps of her hands to get their attention. "What does it take tah get yah both tah focus" Jokin' back an' forth when bigger matters are afoot." She turned a hard look on Quinn who gave a doe eyed blink. "What did I tell yah about meddlin"'?"

Quinn pouted like a scolded child even if the hoodoo woman was right. She had told her not to toy with things she didn't understand, but she thought she had it under control. "I'm sorry." She had been saying that a lot tonight. "I didn't mean..." She then gave a shake of her head. "You wouldn't understand."

Dean looked between the two women. He knew Emily meant well, but what was done was done and scolding Quinn would do no good. She'd learned her lesson the hard way. "It's all right, Emily. She knows." It had always been his job to be the peacemaker between his father and Sam, but he'd grown tired of it long ago. He didn't want to play peacemaker between Emily and Quinn. He looked from one to the other, exhaustion clearly etched on his face.

Quinn's shoulders slumped and she moved to sit on the couch beside Dean, her arms folding over her chest as she tried to not show just how horrible she felt. She was failing. A hoodoo woman saying I told you so and Dean with a knot on the back of his head yet nothing to show for any of it.

Dean's weak attempt at humor was just a ruse to hide his anger, frustration, and pain at the situation, and now that Emily had forced the issue, his mood shifted, turning serious. He wound an arm around Quinn's shoulders and pulled her toward him, dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

Emily placed her hands on her hips watching Quinn with that hard look before her gaze shifted to Dean. "Yah got there 'fore she could say yes." It came out as a statement rather than a question. Dark eyes drifting between the pair. "I need tah know what was said. Who was there. What yah both can remember." She moved to the nearby table and grabbed one of the chairs tugging it out towards them and sinking down into it.

He had no idea what had taken place after they'd turned the lights out, but Quinn had reassured him she hadn't made the deal, and that was all that mattered to him at the moment. He opened his mouth to speak and realized he'd seen and heard very little. He turned a questioning look at Quinn.

Quinn leaned into Dean, her brows knitting together at Emily's questions. She took a deep breath realizing the attention of both of them was fully on her, eyes lifting as she tried to recall it all. "I called the demon. I asked for Natalie back. He said he would give me ten years." Her frown deepened. "But then Dean showed up....And the deal changed."

Dean furrowed his brows at her, his expression darkening. "What do you mean the deal changed?" The tone of his voice wasn't accusatory exactly, but there was an edge to it that bordered on irritation or anger.

She lowered her gaze to her lap. "He said that I could still have Natalie and he wouldn't take my soul." A glance was sent aside to him out of the corner of her eye. "He wanted yours. He said..." The demon said so many horrible things about Dean, but she picked up on the one piece of information that was vital. That could have held some truth. Everything else was a lie and she knew that. "He said there was a bounty on your head in hell."

He clenched his jaw at that piece of information. He wasn't really surprised by it, but it pissed him off to no end that coming to Rhydin seemed to have changed nothing. They weren't going to leave him alone. They weren't going to make it easy for him. They weren't going to let him have a second chance and a peaceful life with Quinn, not without a fight. "Son of a bitch," he grumbled, moving to his feet.

Emily's brows lifted a bit at that. Her expression was thoughtful and then she muttered under her breath.

Quinn placed a hand to her forehead giving a light rub. "It wasn't supposed to be about you. I didn't know he would do something like that, Dean. I would never have said yes." Her gaze followed him as he rose. "Not for anyone."

His hands curled into fists and he felt the old rage slowly rising. He wanted to punch something or someone, but he wasn't angry with Emily or Quinn. He didn't want to vent his anger on them. He needed to get some air before he exploded.

Emily raised a hand, still looking ahead at Quinn. "Don't yah dare beat on anything in mah home, boy. I don't care what happened tah yah tonight."

He was about to say something but bit his tongue, and taking a deep breath, he strode toward the door and pushed his way outside, letting the door slam shut behind him. He felt suddenly restless, angry, hopeless. He'd been warned that the fight wasn't over, that he 'd have to fight for what he wanted, but he was tired. The last thing he wanted was to drag Quinn into his mess and now it looked like that's exactly what had happened.

Emily pressed her thick lips together tightly as Dean made his way outside, though her gaze didn't follow. She spoke to Quinn, but her tone had softened. "Child, yah keep hangin' onto the past so hard and it's goin' tah kill yah. It's goin' to harm those aroun' yah. There are bigger things tah think of. I know it doesn' make a lick o' sense now, but I promise yah it will someday."

Once outside, Dean realized there was nowhere to go and he came to a halt a few feet from the shack, glancing up at the sky and the snow-laden clouds, his breath like vapor in the cold winter air. He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets, tears of frustration welling up in his eyes. He felt the old familiar rage rising up inside in him and he shouted at the sky to no one in particular. "What do you want from me?"

Green eyes were on the door although Quinn was listening to what Emily had to say. She knew the woman was right. These were all things she knew, or at least the part about clinging to the past. She wasn't sure what she meant about the future but all she wanted to focus on for the moment was the present. "I know, Emily." Defeat sank into her tone and she turned her gaze back on the woman. A wince as she heard the shout, eyelids sinking closed at the mess she had made.

Emily still didn't pull her gaze away from Quinn. "How did yah figure out how tah do such things, Child" Hm?" The hoodoo woman's voice no longer as chiding or irritated as before.

Dean crouched down, bowing his head, as he tried to regain his composure. He needed to pull himself together. He owed Quinn that much. He didn't want her to see him like this. It wasn't her fault. It was the god-damned demons. It was always the demons, ever since that night in Sammy's nursery. It just seemed so endless, so tiring, so hopeless to keep fighting and fighting with no end in sight. There had to be a way to end it because if there wasn't, what was the point of it all" What was the point of him being in Rhydin" What was the point of him meeting Quinn and falling in love" Or was that the point'

He lifted his face skyward again, almost pleading with whoever might be listening. "What am I supposed to do' I need to know what to do."

Quinn gave a frown and opened her eyes to meet the dark gaze of the woman. "A co-worker," was the quiet reply as she pushed herself to her feet. "Just....hang on." She made her way to the door and slipped outside. She frowned looking down at Dean. What could she say' She had already apologized. He knew why she had done it. So she simply stepped towards him and put a hand on his shoulder in silence.

Dean became suddenly aware of Quinn's presence, almost as if she was the answer to his plea. He wiped a hand across his face and slowly straightened. When he turned to face her, all the anger had dissipated. He looked sad and tired, but not yet defeated. He wrapped his arms around her, relief suddenly flooding him that she was all right. "I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you, Quinn. I swear."

How many times had he made that same promise to Sam and had failed" If he couldn't keep Sam safe, what made him think he could do the same for Quinn" Despite all his promises, hopes, and dreams, he realized with a heavy heart that she was probably better off without him. "I'm sorry, Quinn," he whispered, apologizing for everything.

She lifted her face, following him as he rose. Her eyes looked wet, but she couldn't cry anymore. The look she gave him held steady in determination, trying to look courageous even if it didn't reach all the way to her core. "We'll be okay, Dean. Both of us." She wrapped her arms around his shoulders tightly, her face pressing into his shoulder. "But don't you dare apologize."

He clung to her, feeling suddenly tired, empty, worn out. "It's my fault," he whispered.

She didn't want to let him go but her hold on him loosened enough for her to tilt back and look him in the face. "How could you even say that' How can you begin to think that's true?"

His eyes met hers, looking pained and weary. "It's me they want. I brought them through the portal. They're not gonna give up and so long as you're with me, you're in danger. People have died because of me, Quinn. I don't think I could bear it if..." He trailed off, unable to complete the thought, unable to even think about it without it causing him anguish.

She placed her hand against his cheek. "We can't live in fear, Dean. And we could waste the rest of our days apologizing for every mistake we've ever made but that's not the life I want. I want to be with you. I want us together. And we'll make it work." The strength in her voice faltered and cracked. "We have to."

"I want to be with you, too," he whispered, not trusting his voice. He wanted to be with her more than anything he'd ever wanted before. Was it selfish of him to want to spend his life with her" He wasn't sure, but she sounded determined. More determined than anyone else he'd ever met.

Quinn offered a faint smile but the touching moment was sadly interrupted. The front door opened and Emily's sour face suddenly appeared, looking sternly between the two. "Have yah both gathered yer nerves" If not yah can finish up in here. The protection I offer only reaches so far." Her foot tapped along the threshold of the door as if to explain without words before once again disappearing inside and leaving the door opened behind her.

Dean wiped a hand across his face again and looked over at the shack where Emily was waiting. "We'll figure it out," he said, more to himself than to her. He needed to hang onto that shred of hope because without it, he knew he was doomed. He reached for her hand and waited for her to lead him back toward the shack.

She looked to Emily down at the threshold, then back to Dean. A soft nod at his words and she reached down to take his hand in hers. "Together." She said matter-of-factly beneath her breath before they made their way back into the little shack. It didn't offer much in warmth but apparently it offered protection from things much deadlier than the elements.

I've got a lot to say, if you will let me It's always hard, when you're around me But here right now, there's interest in your eyes So hear me out, and hear this the first time

Emily gave a cluck of her tongue. "Oh yeah, yah been givin' her jus' enough tah protect herself. Haven't yah, Winchester?" Her own voice sarcastic before she fell back into listening to what Quinn had to say.

He glared at Emily. He was feeling guilty enough without her making things worse. "If I'd known..." He clenched his jaw, looking angry again. "How was I supposed to know she'd do something so stupid" What do you want from me" Want me to tell her everything?"

"I kept it to myself. I kept it all to myself." A hard look turned on Emily. "I was trying to find answers for months. You know that. You knew it was in my head when we first came here." It was all very stupid but her gaze shifted off to the side again at Dean's question. She knew he was right, but hearing him say it out loud hit a special nerve.

He didn't think much of saying it. Quinn knew now that it was a stupid thing to do and he'd done something even stupider, though she didn't know much about his own deal. One year with Sam for an eternity in hell. It had seemed like a good idea at the time. He knew better now.

Emily lifted her hands at the pair, looking unruffled by the angry couple. "Fine. Fine. I keep mah mouth closed and yah can continue." A gesture to Quinn.

Dean frowned sadly as he realized how right Emily was. It was his fault. Had he been straight with Quinn, had he told her the truth, maybe none of this would have happened. If she'd listened. "She's right. It's my fault," he admitted glumly. He turned to Quinn, looking guilt-stricken and full of remorse. If he could, he'd go back in time and change things, but what was done was done. "I should have never told you about Sam. I put the idea in your head, and then I told you to forget about it. Why do you think I was in hell, Quinn?"

Quinn still stared off to the side, listening but unable to bring herself to look at him. Then her brows rose, she had never made the connection between his deal and his time in hell. "No..." She shook her head shifting her gaze to Dean but was quickly cut off by a loud sigh sounding from Emily, her eyes rolling deeply.

"Children! Both of yah!" She pointed a sharp finger between Quinn and Dean. "Yah both screwed up tah high hell. Then, now, and yah don't have to be Miss Emily tah see more mistakes in yer futures. Yer goin' tah make mistakes and yah can spend the rest of yer days cryin' 'bout 'em and apologizin' or yah can set 'em right. Earn redemption 'stead of wallowin' between yerselves!" Emily pointed to herself. "I'm here tah work. I'm here tah make sure tha plans set in motion are stopped, but this is not helpin'! Not me and no doubt neither of yah!"

Dean turned to Emily, looking like a child who'd just been duly scolded. She was right about everything but one thing. "There is no redemption. Not for me."

Quinn's eyes were on Emily and went wide. She had never seen such an outburst at the woman and it was alarming to say the least. She faced down a demon tonight with at least a little bit of backbone behind her, but for some reason the tiny young hoodoo woman seemed like more of a threat.

"An' why not, Winchester?" Emily folded her hands in her lap and leaned forward towards him. "Where's yer redemption' Where did it run off tah' Why don't you tell me somethin' and we'll see how right yah are?"

He had that hopeless look of desperation on his face again. He was unsure how much the hoodoo woman knew. She seemed to know a lot about him, but Quinn was another story. Quinn didn't know the half of it and he was afraid if he told her, he'd lose her. And yet, at the same time, she deserved the truth, all of it.

Emily noted the hesitation and her brows rose. "More held tah yer chest' Yah see how well that worked fer yah both tonight?" A gesture about them. "Hangin' about here at all hours instead of home in yer bed."

"Don't you think she should finish her story first?" he countered, hoping to avoid opening his own can of worms for a little while longer. There were more important things to discuss right now than him. He turned back to Quinn. "How'd you get away?" He understood now how she'd found out about the crossroads deal and what the demons had wanted from her, but he didn't understand how she'd gotten away. By rights, they should have both been dead by now or worse.

Emily gave a sneer but turned her attention back to Quinn all the same. They were both going to have to learn at some point. Either they could do it now or they could do it the next time some monster's claws got a bit too close for comfort.

Quinn gulped slightly as Emily seemed to silently seethe but she looked to Dean and continued at his urging. "You came. I heard your voice. Then you got knocked out and the demon wanted your soul instead of mine." She shook her head. "But I refused. I said no. And he started chanting something. But..." Her eyes went wide as if it was now just coming back to her. "The red headed woman. She came out of nowhere and she killed the demon that had a gun on you. She told me to get you out of there because..." Her frown deepened. "Hell hounds" They sounded like wild dogs and I could hear them in the distance."

His face visibly paled at the mention of hell hounds and he felt a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach, but he only nodded for her to continue.

"She killed the other demon, too. The one at the crossroads. With a dagger. Then she told me I had to drive us somewhere safe. Not the loft. It had to be somewhere Jaime didn't know about. She said..." She tried to remember the woman's exact warning. "She's not who I think she is."

The mention of a dagger got his attention. "What kind of dagger" And she's possessed."

"There are different kinds?" She tried to search her memory for details about the blade then frowned. "Jaime is possessed?" So it wasn't that Jaime was a demon. She just had one inside her. That didn't make Quinn feel any better.

He nodded and leaned forward, reaching for her hands and taking them between his own. "Quinn, it's important. Try to remember. What did it look like?" The only demon-killing dagger he knew of had once belonged to Ruby and now belonged to Sam. Could it be there was another"

"Okay, okay." She nodded and bit her bottom lip, closing her eyes as if trying to replay that bit of the evening in her head. "It....wasn't smooth. It had pointy ridges along the side of it." She opened her eyes a bit. "And there was something engraved on it but I don't know what. Weird markings, not words or anything."

He furrowed his brows, glancing off, looking thoughtful. "It sounds like Ruby's dagger."

Emily was still reclining in her chair. Seemingly allowing them to piece the story together by themselves while she took it all in. She doubted Quinn would open up to her urging anyway. But now they were stepping back into her region of expertise. "Don't know of many people on the streets with a dagger like that."

He heard Emily and shook his head, still looking thoughtful, contemplating what it might mean for someone else to possess a blade that was similar to Ruby's. "She's either one of three things....A hunter, an angel, or a demon."

"That's no angelic weapon." Emily shook her head then furrowed her brows at Quinn. "Child, yah gotta think hard now. I know a lot has happened an' I know yer tired. But yah gotta give us a name of the red headed woman. Did she tell yah that?"

The only redhead Dean knew that possessed any sort of ability to kill a demon was Anna, but as far as he knew, Anna didn't have a dagger like Ruby's. In fact, he'd never seen Anna with a blade of any kind. Cas had one, but it was different. Nothing like Ruby's.

Quinn pushed her fingers through her hair brushing blonde bangs out of her eyes which drew closed. Everything was wearing on her and blurring together but she knew she needed to get it all out while it was fresh. It was the easiest way for them to fix this. To make things right. She sat in still silence for a long while. Searching through the events once more as they unraveled. Quinn had been stunned at the woman's arrival and thankful, but all the same asked her who she was. Surrounded by demands to get Dean out of there she had said it. "Moira."

Open up and come along If you will come and hear my message

Once Dean had tucked Quinn in for the night and made sure she was safe, he joined Emily at the table, exhausted beyond belief, but too anxious to try sleeping just yet.

Emily lifted her dark gaze up to Dean on his approach. "Don' yah think yah should be gettin' some sleep as well, Winchester?"

"Eventually." He pulled out a chair across from her and dropped into it, releasing a sigh and shoving a hand back through his hair to the back of his neck, looking both tired and worried. "Got any coffee?"

She gave a shake of her head, lifting her mug. "Tea. Would yah like a cup?"

"Not decaf, is it' I need some caffeine." He wasn't much of a tea drinker, but caffeine was caffeine. He needed to stay awake and alert, at least for a little while longer. Now that Quinn was asleep, he let his defenses down a little, letting Emily see that he wasn't quite as cocky or self-assured as he let people think.

"It's got a kick to it." She pushed up out of her seat and moved back over to the little kitchen area gathering another mug and filling it from the pot. "At least little Benoit was able to sleep." She moved back to the table setting the mug down in front of him. "She's had a long evenin'. Most of it her doin', but all the same..."

He frowned as he glanced over at Quinn, asleep on the pullout bed. "I wish I'd known. I could have stopped her." Even though he'd stopped her from making the deal, he wished he could have done something to have stopped her from going to the crossroads at all.

"She was undecided about the matter for a long time. The urge faded but then..." She gave a sharp snap of her fingers. "There she was. She's trickier than we give her credit fer." She slid back into her chair. "But the demon didn't get his deal. That is the importan' thing."

He turned back to Emily, wrapping a hand around the mug. "Yeah, but now they know about Quinn." He peered into his cup of tea, unable to meet Emily's gaze. "She'd be better off without me."

She gave a shake of her head and a light chuckle. She leaned forward folding her hand around the mug in front of her. "They be knowin' of Quinn. But they don't be knowin' much about her." She gave a sharp cluck of her tongue. "And that's not true at all, Winchester, so get that thought out of yer head straight away."

He canted his head at her, looking grim. "It's true. If it wasn't for me, she'd be safe. If it wasn't for me, none of this would have happened. Just like Jo. Just like everyone I've ever cared about. Knowing me is hazardous to people's health."

She stretched a hand out towards him giving a sharp snap of her fingers in front of his face. "Get over yerself, Winchester. Not everythin' is jus' about yah." Her voice a harsh whisper so as to not wake Quinn. "She's goin' to be safer with yah especially now that the demons have her in their sights. They're not goin' to want her 'cause she's with yah. They're goin' to want her for a much more important reason."

He drew his brows down, looking puzzled. "What are you talking about' What reason?"

She leaned back into her chair, one leg crossed over the other beneath the mass of fabrics that made up her skirt. Her dark gaze slowly slid towards Quinn as if making sure she was asleep. The blankets on the fold out bed slowly rising and falling seemed to assure her of this and she looked back to Dean. "Yer little leaf is not as simple as yah may think, but it doesn't mean she doesn't need tah be watched over." Usually she was very brash with her information but it seemed she was trying to break this news slowly.

He turned in his chair, looking back at Quinn again, his brows furrowing in confusion. He had no idea what Emily was talking about. He watched Quinn as she slept, looking peaceful. He wanted to watch over her, protect her, but he couldn't help but wonder if she'd be safer without him.

Her attention followed Dean's to look at Quinn as she continued to speak. "What yah have there, Winchester. Is a very special girl. Not just to yah. She's unique. An accident with some interestin' results."

He seemed to be considering Emily's statement, trying to figure out what she meant by what she said. He loved Quinn more than anything and would do whatever he had to do to protect her. He didn't need Emily to tell him that. If he understood what Emily was trying to tell him, it could only mean a few things. "What do you mean special?" he asked her quietly. He held his breath while he awaited her answer, almost afraid to hear it. He'd been told he was special, and he knew from experience, that wasn't necessarily a good thing.

"I mean..." She gestured a hand in Quinn's direction. "She's fallen from her home, Winchester."

That statement got his attention and he turned quickly back to her, eyes narrowing, not in anger but in shock. "What do you mean....fallen?" His tone of voice was almost challenging, disbelieving. He understood exactly what she meant, but needed confirmation.

She lifted her hands lightly. "I mean....she once resided in tha heavens and chose tah plummet to the earth." One fingertip poking into the air and slowly drifting to the tabletop. "Removed her own grace in rebellion. Commonly known as a Fallen Angel."

"That's....impossible," he whispered, looking incredulous, his face going a little pale.

"Not too long ago yah got yerself conked on tha head by a demon. What makes angels amongst us so impossible?" She let her gaze drift back to Quinn. "Well, partial."

"It's not. It's just..." He trailed off. The only fallen angel he'd ever known of was Anna, and now Emily was telling him that Quinn was the same" What sort of strange twist of fate was that' He knew things hadn't gone well for Anna. The dickheads had dragged her back to heaven or wherever it was that angels called home. What if they did the same thing to Quinn" "What do you mean partial?" he asked. It was bad enough that he'd gotten her mixed up in his problems, and now Emily was telling him Quinn was an angel. He felt his heart seize up in his chest. Well, screw them. They weren't going to lay one finger on her, angels or demons.

Emily lifted her mug to her lips for a long sip, taking her time so he wasn't too overwhelmed. It had been a long night for him but this was information he needed to know. "It seems when yer lil' Benoit removed her grace she either lost her nerve partway through or simply didn't know what she was doin'." She placed a hand over her heart. "When an angel removes their grace in full they become mortal, through and through. But she still possesses a small shred inside. No matter how small that still makes her an interestin' breed."

His eyes flashed with anger at her choice of words. "She's not a breed."

She didn't even flinch at the anger, she simply matched his stern tone. "In the wrong hands she's a weapon or as good as dead. Mos' only have to worry about heaven or hell havin' it out for their hides and if anyone finds out about her she'll have a bounty from top tah bottom and everythin' in between."

He looked back at Quinn again, his expression softening, his face turned away so Emily couldn't see the worry on his face, the fear in his eyes. His stomach twisted into knots, fear turning to anger, anger turning to determination. "Is that why I'm here?"

"Well, considerin' who you are an' what yah know an' considerin' who she is and everythin' she don't know." Her shoulders rolled in a shrug beneath her shawl. "I would say yes. That small bit o' Grace inside her makes it easier for some to catch sight of her for what she really is. Could see it on her the moment she stepped in here." Fingertips stroked along the curve of her own jaw thoughtfully. "On the plus side it seems the black eyed demons don't got no special privileges to it. But wit' everythin' crawlin' aroun' here" Only a matter of time."

"Who I am?" he asked incredulously, hardly believing what he was hearing. "Me being with her puts a target on her back!"

"Yah not listenin' to me, boy." Apparently the respect of calling him Winchester had been replaced and paired with a soft irritated tone. "That target on her back 'as been there since she decided to drop. It might not 'ave mattered much back where she was from, but now" She is better off with yah than without yah. If yah would jus' do what I said in the firs' place and teach her enough so she can protect herself..." A lift of her finger. "An' yah don't breathe a word of this conversation to her. The less people that know, the better. Even if we're protectin' her from herself."

"Don't tell her," he repeated, scowling. "That's great. That's awesome. I love secrets. What else shouldn't I tell her?" He was starting to sound angry, the old rage rising, feeling like a puppet on a string. He hadn't asked to come to Rhydin, he hadn't asked to be Michael's vessel, he hadn't asked for any of it. The only saving grace as far as he could see was Quinn.

Her fingers curled into a fist that she looked like she wanted to slam onto the table, but she resisted. The anger coming out in her tone. "Yah keep it to yerself fer now until it needs to be told."

Stray beams of early afternoon light were streaming inside the little shack. It was the first time seeing everything cast in sunlight rather than moon and candle, but all the same the bits, baubles, and bones looked just as odd. There was silence within those four little walls. No vehicles outside or people shouting as they passed. A peep couldn't even be heard from Emily. It was quiet. That is until Quinn who had been awake for two hours or so finally gave into temptation and whispered softly. "Dean?" She was curled against his side, her head resting against his chest but her face turned up towards his. "Are you awake?"

Dean's breathing was slow and regular, his chest rising and falling with each breath taken. He looked almost peaceful as he laid there, deeply asleep, no dreams troubling him, nothing but blissful darkness. He was, as of yet, unaware that Quinn was calling him, summoning him up from sleep. Whatever concoction Emily had given him, it had done the trick.

She gave a light pout at his lack of response and wondered just how late he had stayed up after she had gone to bed. She barely even remembered laying down. The moment her head touched the pillow sleep had hit so hard, she was thankful for it. But now she was wide awake and alone with no sign of Emily around the little shack. It's not like there were really any places for her to hide. She shifted, turning her body and sliding up along the bed a bit so her face was closer to his. A few stray kisses were placed across his cheek and jaw moving to his ear to once again whisper quietly. "Dean..." She felt guilty waking him up, but it was either that or be left alone with her thoughts and this was the lesser of two evils.

He stirred a little, her kisses and whisper somehow reaching beyond the herb-induced delirium and tugging him up from a dreamless sleep. He drew a deep breath and turned to face her, muttering sleepily. "Hmm?" He reached for her to wrap his arms around her, without even realizing he was doing it.

Her features lit up at the slight response, her arm sliding across his chest and wrapping about him. After last night, now without the tired haze, she wanted to hold him. To know he was right there and okay. "I'm sorry to wake you. I needed you." The last words sounded so helpless.

He pried his eyes open, blinking in the sunlight, feeling a little disoriented. It took a moment before he remembered where they were and what had happened. He brushed a kiss against Quinn's cheek, pulling her closer and yawning. "What time is it?" he asked groggily.

"I don't know. Emily doesn't believe in clocks and I didn't want to get out of bed to find my purse and check my phone." Her eyes closed briefly at the kiss before she turned her head to lay it against his shoulder. Her grasp tightening on him a bit.

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and drew her close, kissing her forehead before tucking her head beneath his chin. He frowned a little as the events of the previous night came back to him. He was still feeling sore, but he felt oddly rested and wondered just what it was that Emily had put in the tea. "You okay?" he asked, his thoughts turning back to Quinn.

She curled her body into his taking every touch, kiss, and grasp she could get. Her heart ached down to the very core after last night. She went into it all so blindly. Only ten years with him' It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. "In a very loose sense of the term, yeah, I think so." Her brows furrowed a bit before her gaze lifted back to him. "You okay, too?"

He frowned thoughtfully at her question. How should he answer it' She was right. Okay was a relative term. He wasn't okay and neither was she, but things could be a lot worse. He'd mastered the art of deceit long ago and gave her the answer she wanted to hear. "I'm okay." He turned to face her, sweeping those wayward blond locks from her forehead, his expression softening, realizing just how close he'd come to losing her.

She smirked lightly, figuring he was just as okay as she was. Which was to say....not at all really. She took a deep breath when his gaze was on her and forced out the words. "I don't think I can explain myself in a way that will make what I tried okay. But..." She shook her head lightly against him. "If I knew then what I knew now. All of the details. I wouldn't have gone."

What was he supposed to say to her now that daylight had banished the darkness and horror of the previous night' She'd had a nasty peek at his world, at the things that go bump in the night, at the horrors they might have to face, and yet she was still here.

He frowned at her sadly, knowing exactly why she'd done what she'd done. He'd done it himself and he'd had no one there to stop him. "Quinn..." He breathed a sigh, unsure what to say. Should he tell her he understood, or should he just let it go' Should he tell her how terrified he was of losing her, or how he wished he'd have known so that he could have stopped her" He was beating himself up over that little detail. "I'm sorry," he told her, uncertain exactly what it was he was apologizing for.

She turned her face, shifting her gaze away from his to look up at the ceiling. Though, she then realized one of those racks of bones were hanging right above them and with a wrinkle of her nose she looked away once more. At his words green eyes found his. "You have nothing to be sorry about with this, Dean. If you didn't show up..." She gave a frown. "I felt lost. I don't know what I would have done."

He wasn't sure what to say to that either. She was taking the blame for something she knew nothing about. She was innocent. She'd gone into it without knowing all the details. The demons were mostly to blame, but he couldn't stop blaming himself. He was supposed to protect her, and Emily was right — ignorance was not necessarily bliss. But where did one begin"

"I know. It's okay." He brushed his fingers against her cheek in a gentle caress.

She decided to shift the subject. Not a lot, but just a bit. To a question that had been bothering her all morning. "Is Jaime going to be alright?"

His frown deepened at her question and he sighed, turning onto his back and looking up at the ceiling, which did not offer much comfort. Another difficult question to answer. Would she be all right' Was anyone ever all right after having a demon riding around inside them for a while" All he could promise was that he'd do his best to help her. He felt a certain dread at having to exorcise the demon's ass from her friend, but he knew he had no choice. Exorcisms didn't always go well. Meg's hadn't. But he'd learned a lot since then, and he wasn't going to let Jaime suffer the same fate that she had. Not if he could help it.

"You think so much about what you say to me." Quinn stated quietly, still looking up at him. "Like you're trying to pick and choose what to give me and what to keep."

The truth of her statement was like a dagger to his heart. He didn't want to keep things from her anymore than he'd wanted to keep things from Sam, but he'd always tried to protect him, just as he was trying to protect her. How much did you tell someone without causing them undue pain and worry"

He looked back at her, solemnly. "I'm gonna do everything I can to help Jaime." He tried to sound sincere and determined, but he couldn't make any promises.

Was it the answer she wanted to hear" Not really. But it was honest. It wasn't sugar coated. And that was what she wanted. She gave a light nod in response. She hoped with every fiber that Jaime would be okay. She was one of her closest friends in this town and if something happened to her because of them' She wasn't sure what she would do. "Thank you." He meant what he said through and through, she knew it. She glanced briefly around the shack then back to him. "Did you scare Emily away last night or something" She was gone when I woke up."

He was about to add something, but she changed the subject and he let it go. He arched a curious brow when she mentioned Emily and realized she was right. It was quiet; they were alone. Had Emily been there, she'd have made herself known by now. He wasn't sure where she was, but he assumed she'd either stepped out on purpose allowing them a little privacy or she was off doing something to prepare for what came next. He assumed it was more than likely the latter.

He propped himself up onto an elbow to take a quick look around as if to confirm the fact that they were indeed alone. "No, she gave me something to help me sleep and that's the last thing I remember." He remembered drinking the tea and falling into bed, but that was all.

She rolled over onto her back as he pushed himself up. She had already looked over the small interior multiple times while he was still asleep and knew there was nothing new for her to find. Her arms stretched upwards along the bed before folding under her head. "What did she give you?" Her head tilting curiously.

He furrowed his brows, searching his memory regarding the previous night and trying to figure out what she'd given him. Some kind of herb, he figured, but whatever it was, it'd had one hell of a kick. "I don't know. Some kind of tea. It knocked me out. I haven't slept that well in weeks."

Her own expression turned thoughtful as she watched him. "You got roofied by a hoodoo woman. I'm curious to know what would have happened if I wasn't here." She gave the briefest of smiles then her expression was serious once more. "Maybe she'll pack you up a doggy bag of it?" Another tilt of her head. "You drank tea." Stated with the same amazement he held when he said she drove.

"I did not get roofied," he argued, in total denial. "Tasted like crap, by the way."

"Just don't eat the candy, Hans. That's all I ask." She rolled over onto her side to face him, her head now propped up on one hand. "Tasted like crap, but you slept. I consider that a check in the win column, Baby. Were you up much longer after I fell asleep?"

"Don't worry, Gretel. No one is gonna shove me in an oven if I can help it." Should he answer her question or let it slide, he wondered. "Think she needs a few lessons from Martha Stewart. Her decorating sucks and so does her tea. I wonder what she has planned for breakfast."

"Maybe she's gathering berries in the forest." A glance around, still picking out every single bone displayed either as decor or waiting for it's intended purpose. "But from the looks of it I think she's got a bunch of meat sitting around somewhere." Another wrinkle of her nose then a smirk at the Gretel comment.

"Yeah, somehow I kinda doubt that," he said, regarding the berries remark. "Maybe she's out killing a bunny for breakfast or something. Wonder if she's got any Poptarts around here. Hell, I don't even see a toaster."

The talk of food was making his stomach growl. He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten. He thought that if they kept skipping meals like they'd been doing lately, he was seriously going to starve to death.

Her jaw dropped a bit. "Bunnies are not meant for eating." Her face scrunched up at the thought.

"You ever hear of rabbit stew" Why do you think Elmer Fudd is always out hunting wabbits?"

"I've heard of it. Doesn't mean I like it. Everyone back home was really into that eating what you kill thing. I'm happy playing the fool and not remembering my food had a face." She pushed off the bed, shifting to sit up. Her arms were once again lifted above her head and her back twisted, her spine giving a few soft pops and cracks as she spoke. "Bunnies and rabbits are too cute to hurt." Hands lowering, fingers extended and set just above her head to give herself rabbit ears.

"Think he just does it for kicks?" He sat up, rubbing a hand against his side, and swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "There has to be something to eat around here."

"Cute, Bugs. I'll try to remember not to eat you. Unless you want me to," he said with a smirk.

"Oh, well, I didn't say all that." She lowered her hands to cover her mouth and block a snort of amusement.

"Remind me when we get back to the loft." Emily's little shack sweet shack was a little too creepy for his tastes and not quite the place for thinking about sex.

"I promise." She snickered even harder and dropped her hand shifting once more to crawl across the bed and grab her boots that were laying on the floor. She plopped herself down and began pulling them back on. "What are we even doing today?" She looked over at him. She was at an utter loss. Could they actually go home" Did they have to find Jaime" What about Moira?

"Why do I feel like Emily always comes back to fate?" Quinn gave a light thoughtful purse of her lips, her gaze drifting towards a nearby window. "I would like to think that things don't happen because someone else just wants them to." She looked back over to him. "But if someone's pulling the strings for us to be together I can't really complain." A small smile curling across her lips with a shrug.

He reached for her hand, weaving his fingers between hers, looking into her eyes. "I'm here because I want to be, Quinn. My dad always said we're in control of our own fate, and I have to believe that."

Her fingers laced tightly around his, the smile only growing. "Well, that makes two of us. And I would much rather be in control of what happens in my future. Good or bad, at least it's all mine. You know?"

"I may have got tossed here by a demon, but I came back because of you."

She had made a choice, too, for whatever reason, to be human. Despite what Emily said about fate, they both had made their own choices and had chosen to be together.

She furrowed her brows a bit. "Bet that demon would be pretty pissed to know how things turned out." Her free hand was lifted and bangs brushed out of her face before she gave another light shrug.

"I'm sure she would. She's probably giving my other half hell. If there's one demon who hates me, it's Meg."

"It's just weird....Two of you." She bit at her bottom lip. "I mean, I know Emily told us about it when you first got back but still....Two." Then her brows rose. "Any special reason she hates you or just the usual distaste of demons and hunters?"

He smiled, unable to help himself from remarking on that. "Like one of me isn't enough."

"I don't think any world, Earth or RhyDin, would be able to handle two Deans at once. Probably implode from all the awesome." Lips pulled back into a toothy grin before she gave a laugh.

He'd managed to once again slide out from under one of her more pointed questions. He echoed her laughter. "I am awesome." He grinned stupidly. "We are awesome together. Team Awesome, that's us. When we get married, we could change our names to Quinn and Dean Awesome."

"You have your moments." She gave another laugh. "But that's just getting kind of cocky, don't you think?" Smirking she shifted so she was standing beside him, leaning back against the little counter of what seemed to pass for a kitchen.

"Quinn and Dean Cocky doesn't have quite the same ring to it." He smirked as he turned his head toward her and slipped an arm around her shoulders.

"Oh, come on. Getting to introduce myself as Mrs. Cocky' That just seems like honest advertising right there." She grinned brightly and leaned into his grasp.

"Mr. and Mrs. Cocky. Yeah, Rhydin isn't ready for that." He winced just a little as she leaned into his injured side, but quickly recovered.

"I don't even think they're ready for Mr. Winchester and Ms. Benoit let alone us turning into a tag team." Though she said that rather proudly, the tone matching her expression until she gave her own wince of realization and leaned away once more. "Sorry, forgot."

"It's okay. I'll live." He rubbed a hand over his side, smiling faintly to reassure her. "I should probably give you your first lesson. Emily will have my head if I don't." He wasn't afraid of much, but there was something about the hoodoo woman that made him want to stay on her good side.

Her brows rose a bit. "My first lesson?" She had been asking for it and Emily had indeed been pestering him on it but now that it was actually happening" Well, it took her off guard.

"Yeah, unless you wanna wait til after breakfast." That apple was not breakfast as far as Dean was concerned. "There has to be something around here to eat besides apples. What do you think the chances are that she went out for bagels" And coffee. If I have to drink tea again, I'm gonna gag."

She gave a quick shake of her head. "No, no. Now is fine." She then looked around at the various shelves on the walls with a wrinkle of her nose. "Well, I see some stuff over there in jars. It looks like there might be jam in there but....I highly doubt it is." Her tongue was stuck out in disgust before she looked back to him. "We'll get a big breakfast before we go home." If they get to go home. "Hit the diner or something."

He pursed his lips a moment, realizing they probably weren't going to get anything decent to eat until they left, and he wasn't sure when that was going to be. They couldn't stay at Emily's forever. They had to go back to the loft sometime. He was gonna have to stop and pick up a lot of salt. He seemed to consider a moment and then pushed off the counter and went over to the table. He pulled out a chair and waved her into it. "Have a seat."

Brows rose as he walked away and then at the beckoning she followed along, green eyes staying on him as she slid into the chair. "Do I have to grab a cricket out of your hand?"

"A cricket?" he quirked a brow at her. "No, Grasshopper. All you have to do is listen.

"Wasn't it a cricket?" All the same she made a zipping motion across her lips and gestured to him. He had the floor.

He chuckled as she misunderstood him. "What are you talking about?"

She snickered and made another zipping motion across her lips, apparently very dedicated to her own quiet. "I thought that in the movie the kid had to grab a cricket out of the old guy's hand."

He smirked at her zipping and unzipping and pulled out a chair to take a seat across from her.

She followed him with her gaze and shrugged. "Though, I never actually saw it anyway. I'm just going by common movie knowledge."

"What movie are we talking about?"

"Was it Karate Kid?" She then gave a pause and pointed at him sternly. "We're getting side tracked!"

"Karate Kid?" He smirked. "Wax on, wax off. She could use a good cleaning. We're not getting sidetracked. This is important."

"The Karate Kid is important?" She squinted at him skeptically.

"No, but waxing the car is."

"I'm not waxing your car! I barely even like being around her let alone doing it for fun!"

"Watch how you talk about my baby. She has feelings, you know."

"She can't even hear me from outside." Then after realizing what she said she gave a large sigh. "She can't even hear me because she's a car." She corrected herself. Apparently guitars had feelings, cars did not.

He called over toward the window. "Don't worry, baby, she doesn't mean it!"

"I do!" She called right after him.

He turned back at her, looking totally serious. "Kung Fu."

She blinked at his sudden shift and looked back to him. "Kung Fu?"

He pointed at her. "You have obviously never seen Kung Fu, Grasshopper." This is what happens when you're an insomniac and there's nothing on TV late at night but old reruns.

"Is this a movie, too' And I still think they call each other Crickets." She pointed at him in return.

He rolled his eyes and blew out an exasperated sigh.

Quinn's brows rose innocently. "Did I say something wrong?"

Dean turned quiet, shifting his gaze to his clasped hands which rested on the table, considering something.

Her brows furrowed at his expression. "Are we dealing with high level demons" And more importantly....there are levels?"

His gaze remained fixed on his hands, which felt almost naked without the ring he'd worn for so many years. He frowned thoughtfully. "Have you ever played chess?"

She held back a scoff at the idea considering how serious the conversation was and simply shook her head. "No."

He wasn't much of a chess player himself. That was more Sam's thing, but he knew enough to make an analogy. "Low level demons are like pawns in chess." He lifted his gaze to see if she was following his line of thinking.

She squinted lightly then nodded. "Okay, I know what a pawn is. The grunts."

"Right, the grunts. The low men on the totem pole. Low level demons usually have black eyes."

She leaned back into her chair, her bottom lip held firmly between her teeth. Eyes lowered to the table as she thought back to the crossroads demon she was trying so hard to block from her memory. The way he moved, spoke to her, touched her cheek, and most importantly...."And some of them have red eyes."

He nodded his head. "The one you....summoned....That was a Crossroads Demon. They have red eyes. They're all about collecting souls."

"Yeah..." She offered flatly, her gaze still fixed on the table.

He reached across the table for her hands. "How do you think I ended up in Hell?" He was trying to tell her in his own way that he understood why she'd done what she'd done.

She gave her hands over to him, still talking to the table top. "I didn't make the connection. I could barely find anything in any of the books and the only thing I had to go off of was Jaime. Well, who I thought was Jaime."

He was frowning again, feeling horribly guilty. If he'd told her the truth, maybe she wouldn't have summoned the demon or maybe it wouldn't have mattered. "I should have told you."

"No, I should have realized that I wasn't special. That I wasn't the first person in the world to lose someone I loved and I won't be the last. Why did I think my situation was different' Dumb..." The last word was muttered with a shake of her head.

He couldn't tell her, but she was special, more special than he had ever guessed. With any luck, he and Emily were the only ones who knew just how special. "Quinn, don't beat yourself up. You didn't know." He squeezed her hands gently, trying to be as gentle and reassuring as he could. It had been a long time since he'd had to comfort anyone. "They preyed on you. They manipulated you. It's what they do."

"I just....I made it too easy for them." Her brows knit together and she looked back up to him, weakly returning the squeeze to his hand.

"Yeah, well....so did I. I played right into their hands."

"Join the club..." She lifted up her free have giving the rock on symbol. "Go Team Awesome." A brief dry smirk touching her lips.

He smiled faintly. "Go Team Dumbass. I won't lie to you. I don't regret bringing Sammy back, but..."

There was a light chuckle at that, her hand dropping back into her lap before brows rose at him.

He chewed at his lower lip, unsure how much to tell her, how far to go with the revelations. The past was the past; nothing could change it, but maybe someone else could learn from his mistakes. He dropped his gaze to their linked hands, wanting to hold onto her forever and never let go.

"Dean' What is it?" She leaned forward, her grasp tightening on his hand. "You can tell me."

He wasn't sure what to say. How do you tell someone about your worst nightmares" How do you tell them you wouldn't wish your own experiences on anyone, not even your worst enemy.

"I just..." He sighed and closed his eyes a moment. The thought of her suffering in Hell was almost too much to bear, and now that he knew the truth about her, he knew if they found out, they'd stop at nothing to have her. "The price is too high, Quinn. If Cas hadn't pulled me out of Hell, I would have become one of them eventually."

She gave a frown. More she didn't know. "Demons used to be humans?"

He nodded. "Not all of them, I don't think, but the lower level ones for sure. I'm sure Natalie isn't among them," he added quickly.

She lowered her hand, cupping her forehead in her free hand as her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath and a heavy sigh. "Natalie is not in Hell." The statement was a bit sharp, though, she didn't mean for it to be. She took a few more breaths before speaking in a softer tone. "I was so close. I almost....screwed up doesn't even cover it."

"You didn't. Emily....she knew somehow and she....she warned me." He trailed off, pursing his lips as he fumbled for words.

"I got lucky. I got lucky that I have a hoodoo woman and a hunter on my side." She lifted her head, the hand shifting from her forehead to settle over her lips. It looked like things were finally settling in. Not the guilt of it all or that she was almost without Dean. But that she almost gave up her soul for ten years with Natalie and then the rest of her days would be spent banished in hell. At his abandoned statement her gaze shifted back to him.

"I should have never told you about Sam. I put the idea in your head."

She gave a smirk. "Like you should have to pick and choose what you tell me so I don't go out and do something stupid?" She shook her head.

"There are some things that maybe shouldn't be told. I traded one year with Sam for an eternity in hell. You got a better deal than I did."

She contemplated that. Could she really fight him about keeping secrets" Sure she was learning to share a bit more but it didn't mean she was anywhere near being an open book. Before she could put more contemplation into it she gave a blink. "One year" That's it?"

"Yeah, I bargained for a year." He dropped his gaze again, unable to meet her eyes. His heart felt heavy with the guilt and remorse of what he'd done. He was responsible for starting the Apocalypse. He didn't deserve to have a second chance at happiness.

She didn't even know what to say to that. Ten years hadn't even seemed like that great now that she looked at the big picture. But only one" "No more deals for us." She said quietly.

"Agreed."He nodded, his eyes briefly betraying a haunted expression. "Quinn..."

She nodded as well though a frown was still settled at her lips. She dug up all of his old memories. Brought something so painful right back up to the surface. She thought she was sacrificing herself for someone she loved but it seemed she was just being selfish. "Hm?"

He looked into her eyes, a serious expression on his face, almost fearful. "If anything ever happens to me....Promise me you won't try to bring me back. Not like that. No sacrifices."

"Dean," She shook her head. "Please" Can't we just leave it at that' Don't make me say it."

He searched her eyes, seeing the pain there. It was too much to ask her right now. He only nodded. It was painful enough for her to have to deal with her sister's death. He didn't want to make things any more difficult than they had to be. They could talk about it later.

Emily pursed her lips and gave a light nod. "Very well then. Jus' keep yer wits about yah."

"If she wanted us dead, she'd have killed us by now. There's something else she wants."

"I'll keep my wits." Quinn mumbled in reply as she finished pulling on her jacket and grabbed her purse, slinging it onto her shoulder.

Emily watched as the little blonde acted with bravado then looked back to Dean. "Well, we'll be findin' that out tonight, won' we?" Excitement flashed across her features briefly and it seemed that this was what Emily considered an evening of fun.

"If I didn't know better, I'd think you were having a little too much fun with this." He grabbed his jacket and tossed it on over his shoulders, eyeing Emily steadily, studying her, trying to figure her out.

Emily gave a light shrug. "Ain't people always sayin' yah should enjoy yer work" No reason for yah to be lookin' at me like that."

Quinn wrinkled her nose briefly as she turned and moved towards the door. She wouldn't voice her opinion but she was pretty sure the woman needed a hobby besides gathering bones from animals.

Dean shoved his arms into the jacket and shrugged it on over his shoulders, stepping over toward the hoodoo woman and looking down at her from his height, dropping his voice so that what he said was between the two of them. "If anything happens to her, I'm holding you personally responsible. Do we understand each other?"

Emily kept her expression light, but the moody seriousness that laid just beneath the surface was absolutely clear in that dark gaze that narrowed on him slightly and her low tone. "Yah don' threaten me, boy. I'm helpin' yah when nothin' in this worl' says I have tah. But yah get on mah bad side and yah mark mah words, it'll be the last thing yah do. Do we understand each other?"

"We understand each other."

Emily pushed out of her chair rising to her full height. She wasn't even as tall as Quinn, but the way she held herself might have made someone think she was trying to tower over him. "Then I suggest yah get the hell out of mah home until I come callin' on yah later."

She had helped them, but he wasn't very good at thank yous, and he didn't quite trust her completely. There was something she wanted, but he wasn't sure what it was yet. Time would tell whether she'd prove to be friend or foe.

Quinn just now realized that something was going on between the pair as she turned back from the door, blinking a bit as they seemed to be caught in a staring match. "....We good?" She winced a bit, hoping to not have their wrath turned onto her.

He looked from Emily over to Quinn, relaxing his shoulders a little. "We're good." He turned back to Emily. "We'll see you at midnight and stay out of my head. Use a phone like normal people."

"Midnight." Emily repeated, still standing her ground but she did give a quick dry smirk. "But there's so much fun in yer head, Winchester."

"You might get lost in there," Dean remarked, as he turned to join Quinn at the door.

"Nah, it's not all that big. Most of it's taken up by yer ego." She gave one sharp laugh then nodded her head. "Rest. Yah both be needin' it." And it seemed that was all the goodbye she had to offer as she turned and moved back towards the kitchen.

Quinn shoved the door open and held it for Dean. She didn't care how often they saw the hoodoo woman, she highly doubted she would ever really get comfortable around her.

Dean clenched his jaw, a wave of anger briefly rising up at the hoodoo woman's remark. It was the nightmares he was referring to. After digging around in his head, she probably knew more about him than he wanted her to, and that made him uncomfortable, but at the same time, he wondered if there was something she could do to help with the dreams. He stepped out the door, taking a deep breath of the cold fresh air as soon as he was outside.

Quinn furrowed her brows up at Dean but when he stepped outside she quickly shut the door behind her. "Let's try to make it a goal in our lives to never stay the night here ever again. Please" She's nice and all but....I need a shower." She hooked her arm in his and began leading him towards the car. Emily was helpful, there was no denying that, but she still made Quinn uneasy.

"No sleepovers at the creepy hoodoo woman's house again. I think I can live with that." He tucked Quinn's arm in his own as he led her toward the car, fishing in his jacket pocket for the car keys.

"Thank you." She sent one last glance over her shoulder towards the tiny shack then looked back to the car.

"You okay?" he asked, turning to look at her, concern in his eyes, snow crunching beneath their feet.

She turned her own gaze up at him with a blink then nodded. "I'm fine. Just....It's a lot." She looked ahead once more. "But I'm okay." A small solid nod following the statement.

He stopped in his tracks, turning her by the shoulders to face him and taking a good hard look at her. He lifted her chin and searched her eyes, knowing she'd been through one hell of a night and it wasn't over yet. "I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, okay' That's a promise."

She frowned as they suddenly came to a halt and she was turned, her brows rising. It was a lot. She had nagged at him to teach her things and now she was up to her neck in knowledge and even more was coming tonight. She felt overwhelmed, but it was what she wanted. Her gaze lifted to his and at his words. "I know, Dean." Could she say the same thing" Not really. What could she do' That was when she felt the most useless, when she couldn't protect those that she loved. And now" With demons and hell thrown into the mix" She didn't feel like she stood a chance. "We'll be okay." A smile forced through.

"Yeah, we will." He wrapped his arms around her protectively, just needing to hold her close a moment. He'd told Emily he'd protect her, take care of her, and he meant it with all his heart. There wasn't anything he wouldn't do for her. She was his life now. She was everything.

An hour or so later found the two of them in bed, tangled together in a lovers' embrace. Dean's eyes were closed, his hair ruffled, the expression on his face calm, peaceful even. He wasn't asleep, but his breathing was soft and even. He felt more relaxed than he had in days. His arms were wrapped around Quinn, as he held her close against him.

Quinn was curled against him, her head cradled against the crook of his shoulder and eyes open. Watching as a fingernail painted with chipped black polish slowly traced the lines of the tattoo on his chest. Her body rising and falling within his grasp at the slow pace of her breathing.

Her touch was like a drug, relaxing him further, lulling him into a light doze. There were things he needed to do before midnight, and he couldn't afford to be lazy, but there was time. The quiet moments with Quinn were too precious and few to waste. He thought that if this wasn't heaven, he didn't know what was.

Her head tipped to look up at him. She was far more relaxed than she had been for a while but she couldn't bring herself to fall asleep. Her fingertips trailed over his chest, along his collarbone and up his neck. "Don't leave me awake by myself." Her voice just barely above a whisper.

"Hmm?" he murmured lazily and sleepily, managing to pry one eye open to peer at her curiously.

"You're falling asleep and I'm not." Her bottom lip popped out a bit in a pout. "I'll get lonely."

He smiled a little and turned to face her, snuggling closer. His eyes opened, but his lids looked heavy with sleep. He brushed her hair back from her face and kissed her forehead. "You should get some rest." The few hours of sleep he'd managed to grab at Emily's, along with the coffee had helped some, but he still felt like he could easily sleep for days.

Lids dipped close at the kiss but they were open once more, green eyes on his. "I know I should, but I can't right now." Her bottom lip caught between her teeth and chewed a bit before it was once again released.

He frowned at her, green eyed-gaze meeting green-eyed gaze, searching her face, looking concerned. "What's the matter?" It was a stupid question, he knew. What wasn't the matter" They were about to summon a damned demon, for starters.

She head tilted, brows rose just a bit. A look that screamed you know, but all the same her features once again relaxed. She couldn't just let things go unspoken between them. Not anymore. "I have butterflies in my stomach and they're keeping me awake." Her gaze dropped back towards his tattoo that she started tracing once more lightly with a fingernail.

He watched her carefully. Her body language told him more than her words. She was scared, and he knew it. She'd had a rough night. Her first brush with demons, her first wakeup call into what life with him might be like. Even if she hadn't summoned the crossroads demon, it was bound to come to this sooner or later. "You don't have to be there, you know. Emily and I can handle it."

The movement of her hand stopped and she lifted her head, even pushing herself up to prop the top of her body on her elbows against the bed as she spoke. "I'm not just going to make a mess and leave you two to clean it up." She gave a light frown. "I can't really do much to help, but I still need to at least be there. To just....do something." Wasn't that what got them into this mess" The idea that she had to do something. Something to help Natalie and now something to help them. Was this going to blow up in her face, too"

He watched her quietly, having mixed feelings about her being there when they worked the summoning. On the one hand, he wanted to keep her safe and as far away from demons as possible. On the other hand, Emily was right. If they were going to be together, she had to learn and what better way to learn than by experience. His gut instinct told him to keep her away, but he knew she'd never go for that.

His thoughts turned to Jo for a moment, realizing how similar the two of them were and how terrified he was of losing Quinn the way he'd lost Jo. He felt knots in his stomach. She had her fears and he had his.

"I know," he told her quietly. He knew he should probably explain what they were going to do, what she should expect, but he dreaded talking about it. Talking about it somehow made it all so real.

She furrowed her brows at his silence. Her mouth opened, her mind gearing up to fight him if he tried to tell her she couldn't go. Then she gave a blink, stopped in her tracks and her mouth closed. She was more than a little surprised he wasn't trying to keep her at arms' length about it all still. Maybe it was a little worrying. Maybe it was a little easier when she was on the outside looking in. And now she was going to be right there, a front row seat to the demon show for the second night. "We'll be okay." It was all she could think to say. Was she comforting him or herself" Probably both. They both needed it right now.

"Yeah," he replied in agreement, trying to believe it, having to believe it. They had to be okay because if they weren't, what was the point of it all" One thing was for sure, he wasn't going down without a fight. He just didn't want to take her with him if he did.

The spell was broken. The small respite, the tiny bit of peace they'd had together for a little while shattered, worries settling back in. Somehow he knew no matter how hard he tried to sleep now, it wasn't going to happen.

He rolled onto his back, tucking an arm beneath his head and looking up at the ceiling.

"Exactly." She forced some quiet yet firm bravado into her tone while watching him roll aside. She gave a light frown. "Sorry I ruined your sleep."

"I can't sleep anyway. I shouldn't even be laying here. I have to get everything ready." How was he supposed to tell her what he was really feeling" That she was what kept him going, that everything was about her now. How much he treasured the quiet moments spent alone with her. How he worried he'd lose her, like he'd lost everyone else in his life. They were just words, and he wasn't very good with words.

"You can spare a little bit longer." Her hand stretched over, fingers gently set against his jaw to tip his face towards hers.

He let her turn his face toward her, unable to hide the worry from his face, feeling naked before her — not a nakedness of the body, but of the soul and the heart.

"Whatever happens..." He faltered a moment, licking his lips.

She gave a frown and a shake of her head. "No, I don't want a just-in-case speech. Please, Dean?"

"Quinn..." He had seen too many people die without having told them how he felt about them. He wasn't going to let that happen again. He needed her to know how he felt, even if they were just words because he could make no assurances about how it would all turn out. He'd promised to protect her and he intended to do just that, no matter what. "Just let me talk, okay?"

"Dean..." She countered in the same tone, but his follow-up question simply caused her frown to deepen. She knew what it was like to lose someone and not get to say goodbye. But on the other side of the coin who wants to admit that it might be the last chance to air such things" It was a damned if you do, damned if you don't situation. Her shoulders sank in quiet defeat, she couldn't deny him. "Fine..."

Now that she'd given him permission, he was at a loss as to what to say. She already knew how he felt about her, didn't she" What was it he needed to say exactly"

"If things go bad," he started, "don't do anything stupid. Don't try to save me. Just get the hell out of there, okay?" The words fell out of his mouth before he could stop them. It wasn't what he had meant to say or wanted to say, but it's what came out.

That wounded expression that only he seemed to really ever pull from her was present. He was the only one who really mattered which is why he had the honor. And she hated that word. Stupid. Such a simple silly word and yet it stung more than most. She sat in hurt silence. How could she even reply to that' If she said what he wanted to hear she couldn't promise it wouldn't be a lie.

Her silence worried him. He was confident that between himself and Emily, they could handle one demon, but he knew from experience that dealing with demons was never a sure thing.

She finally reached her verdict. "I can only make that promise if you can, too." If he could say he would turn his back on her then she would do the same.

"You know I can't."

"Then how can you expect that of me?"

"Because..." He paused, turning toward her and propping himself up onto an elbow to face her. "You're more important than me."

She shook her head, stern green eyes meeting his. "Not true."

"Yes, it is," he insisted, though he couldn't tell her why. What was he supposed to tell her" You're an angel, and my soul is already damned" Not only would she not accept it, he doubted she'd even believe it. If something happened to him, the only one who'd miss him was right beside him.

"You can't do that. It's not one or the other." Her tone was more heated now. She thought he was just being her sweet Dean. Self sacrificing to a fault. He wasn't allowed to play that game unless she was dealt in as well. "It's you and I. And we both do what we can to keep it that way." It's seemed fair to her. Simple. Black and white.

"Look, I lost somebody else once because she tried to save me, and I'm not gonna let that happen again." He tossed the blankets off and grabbed his jeans, yanking them on over his legs and moving to his feet, feeling suddenly angry and restless. "Too many people have died because of me." He told her as pulled his jeans up over his hips and yanked the zipper up.

"You can't keep doing that to me, Dean!" She sat up in the bed pulling the sheets up around her as she watched him go. "Whoever those girls were in the past or the people you lost, you can't keep lumping me in with them! Don't I at least get a chance before I'm doomed to walk along the same path as them?"

He clenched his jaw as he buttoned his jeans, his back toward her, his head lowered, considering her words. He didn't want to lose her; he had promised himself and her he'd do everything he could to protect her, but he didn't want her doing the same for him. He felt the old anger swell up inside him, threatening to erupt, but he wasn't angry with her. He was angry at the way his entire life had played out. He felt he'd never had any choices in life. He was a hunter born and bred, whether he liked it or not, and if she wanted to be part of his life, it's something she'd have to accept.

She wasn't trying to start a fight. She wasn't trying to contradict him for the fun of it. She was just trying to make him understand. "You love me. And you would do anything for me. And I love you. So how is it fair to tell me I would just have to walk away?"

He didn't say anything; he wasn't sure just yet what to say. He understood where she was coming from, but he didn't want her sacrificing herself for him, even though he was willing to do so for her. He reached down and snatched his shirt off the floor, biting his lip at the stitch in his side. "I never said it was fair," he said quietly, pulling his shirt on over his head.

"I can't get behind that, Dean. I'm not saying I'm going to go out of my way to bust my neck for you, but you can't expect me to just walk away when things get tough. Tonight or any other time."

"Walk away?" he asked, turning to face her. "I'm not asking you to walk away. I'm asking you to not sacrifice yourself for me. Not tonight. Not ever. You know why?"

She didn't see how they were different. "We both already promised no more deals." Wasn't that enough' Her expression was still hardened, but she gave in to the question. "Why?"

He didn't bother to wait for her to respond to that, the words were tumbling out now and all the pain he was feeling along with them. Maybe it was something that needed to be said, something he should have told other people a long time ago. "I'll tell you why. Because I couldn't live with myself, that's why. Because I've got enough blood on my hands and enough guilt on my shoulders, and..."

He bit off the words as his voice got stuck in his throat. His carefully controlled composure was slowly crumbling as feelings and fears he tried so hard to hide surfaced. "Because I love you, and I can't live without you. I don't want to live without you."

She watched him, sadness written across her face as he practically bared his soul to her. Her lips pressed together in a thin line to keep them from trembling. She slid across the bed, feet just as bare as the rest of her set to the floor and she walked across the room to him sliding her arms around his torso when she was close enough. Her head turned, cheek pressed to his chest. She needed to hold him, have him right there. To be there for him as well. "I love you, too, Dean. But you can't live in fear of losing me. You have me, I'm yours. You're mine and we'll fight to keep it that way." Her head tipped back, face lifting to look at him. "I won't do anything stupid....but I'll do what?s within my power for you. You can't damn me for that."

He looked down at her to meet her gaze, tears spilling onto his cheeks. He was bound and determined not to lose her, but she was right. It was what he feared most, so much so that it worried him night and day. He slid his arms around her and drew her close against him, his chest rising as he took a slow breath. He nodded his head at her reply. It was all he could ask of her really. He buried his face against her hair, tears sliding silently down his cheeks. He didn't want her to see them, but it was too late for that now.

His heart felt heavy with worry and weariness. He'd find the strength to go on, to do what he had to do, to keep fighting to keep her safe, to keep them together, but sometimes it seemed like such a heavy burden to bear. He wondered if there was any peace for them at the end of it all.

She leaned into him, her grasp around him only tightening. "We can't spend all of our time thinking about might might happen to us, Dean. That's going to kill us before anything else even has a chance." The frown on her lips that he couldn't see came through in her tone. It seemed if the past wasn't going to destroy them the unknown future would.

He nodded again, lifting his head and letting go of her just long enough to wipe a hand across his face and scrub away the tears. "I know," he muttered. Despite all his fears, he knew she was right. "I don't deserve you," he told her quietly, his voice rough with emotion.

She leaned her head back to look at him. One arm stayed in place while the other unwound itself from his body and her hand was lifted to help brush away the tears. "Honey, I make coffee for a living. Spend my days in fishnets and leather. And more often than not am functioning on sugar and coffee." She gave a light smirk, trying so hard lift the mood that had settled over them. "Don't act like I'm more than I am."

On the contrary, he knew that she, in fact, was more than that. It wasn't even the fact that she was fallen. It was just the fact that he loved her. It was a bittersweet feeling to know that she felt the same, and regardless of what she said, would probably do the same for him as he would for her.

"You're everything to me." He laid a hand against her cheek, unable to hide what he was feeling from his eyes. He had once thought that no one could ever mean more to him than his little brother, but all that had changed. Quinn was why he'd remained in Rhydin, and Quinn was all that mattered now.

"We're gonna be okay." It was his turn to say it, mostly because faced with what seemed like almost impossible odds and obstacles, he needed to believe it. So long as we're together, he thought to himself.

Her own smile broke across her lips. "You took my line, but I like it when you say it. Optimism looks good on you." Fingers swept back from his cheek and through his hair. All the adoration and love she felt for him was apparent. She said the words so freely, moreso than he did. But this time there was more to them. A determined tone that it wasn't just a feeling, but a solemn promise that she was making. "I love you, Dean."

At that moment, he felt as though something had changed between them, shifted, become more serious, as if things weren't serious enough already. How many times had she told him she loved him' Far more than he had her, and yet they had only been words. Now those same words seemed to loom large before him, the deeper meaning behind them, not just a feeling but a promise, a commitment. Those three little words suddenly seemed like she was opening her heart to him and baring her soul, and he wanted more than anything to do the same. He felt like he'd been cut open, naked, all of the walls he'd worked so hard to build crashing down around him.

This was what it meant to love someone, to open your heart and soul to them, to take a chance and hope that they loved you back, despite all your faults. She didn't know the half of it, and yet, somehow he had a feeling that he could tell her anything and she'd still feel the same, and the same went for him. No secrets between them, nothing but the naked truth. The past no longer mattered. All that mattered was what they built together for their future.

He leaned close, lifting her chin toward him, the words on his lips simple but from the heart. "I love you, Quinn. I'll love you forever." Words that had once been carved into a tree and were now carved into his heart and soul. He sealed his promise with a kiss.