Written by: gooberlanes13

Edited by: Kari Gorsuch

Sam pushed himself into the room, hesitating briefly at the door. I shifted a little on the bed, just enough to acknowledge him.

"Sam," I greeted with a small smile. He offered a polite, reserved smile before sitting down on Dean's bed. "Bri send you in here to keep me company?"

"Yeah," He admitted with a soft exhale, his tone light.

I smirked faintly, shaking my head. "Figures. Guess she thought we needed to bond or something."

Sam gave a small shrug, but his expression softened. "Probably. She means well, though."

I adjusted my position again, grimacing as I moved. Sam's eyes flicked to my chest, concern etching his features.

"Nick did a real number on you..." he said quietly, standing up and moving closer to sit beside me on the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I got run over by a truck." I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. "I hate that I can barley move without feeling like I'm gonna break apart."

Sam nodded, sympathy in his expression. A brief silence hung between us before I spoke again.

"Sam, I don't mean to put you in the middle of this," I said, watching him carefully.

"The middle?" His brow furrowed slightly.

"Between me and Dean," I clarified, gesturing weakly. "You've got enough on your plate without having to deal with... whatever this mess is."

Sam tiled his head, his expression thoughtful. "You're not puting me in the middle. Whatever's going on with you two, it's between you. I'll always be here to help, but I know where I stand.

I studied him for a moment, then smiled faintly. "Thanks. I mean that. I know your focus is on something else anyway- like Bri."

Sam blinked, clearly caught off guard. "What? Bri?"

"Yeah," I teased, smirking at his wide-eyed reaction. "You've got that look in your eye. Don't even try to deny it."

He glanced down at the floor, a sheepish grin spreading across his face. "She's just..."

"...she's amazing," I finished for him, cutting through his thought cloud. "I know."

Sam chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair. "How did you guys meet, anyway? I know you've mentioned the Army..." He shifted to face me fully, genuine curiosity lighting up his expression. "... But I'd love to hear the story."

"It was Reception." I said with a small shrug, the memory surfacing like a beacon through the haze of my mind. "I was sitting with another girl, and we were joking about something and I was so confused by it that I asked 'why there were six peddles and only four directions -'"

"- Red vs Blue?!" Sam interrupted, his gasp filled with excitement.

My smile broadened into a happy grin. "Yes!" I almost squealed, but flinched at the movement, my excitement tempered by the pain. Sam's expression shifted into one of quiet apology as I continued.

"She literally hung herself from the top bunk and asked that very question..." I said, laughing softly." And from that moment, we were inseparable. Tight as hell." I glazed out the window, a warm grin settling on my face as I relived the connection Bri and I had. nodded, "Our Drill Sargents knew, our AIT Sargents knew it- hell, everyone knew. If you messed with one, you got the other."

"That still stands." Sam said with a gentle smile, watching my comforted expression. "She's so strong -"

"- she is..." I interjected, leaning forward off the pillows, wincing a little as I pointed at him. " And Sam... I want us to be friends. I really do. But I need you to know something." I held his gaze, my voice steady. "She's my fucking soul mate. So, for the love of God- or Thor- whoever is running this hellshow..."

"- don't hurt her or you'll kill me?" Sam finished, a faint, almost teasing smile tugging at his lips.

"...someone has the feeds the 'gators in Lousiana." I smirked, gripping the front of his collar and pulling him slightly closer. "I mean it, Sam. The body will be discarded appropriately."

Sam blinked, his nervous chuckle betraying his attempt to stay composed as he gently proed my fingers loose form his shirt. "Got it," he said, nodding earnestly.

Silence settled between us again, heavy but not uncomfortable. Sam finally broke it. "Can I ask you something else?"

I nodded, narrowing my eyes slightly at his cautious tone. "Go ahead."

"Was she there... the night Nick... well..." He trailed off, struggling to find the right words.

"When Nick did what he did to me," I finished for him, my voice heavy as I sighed and adjusted the pillows behind me. "Yeah, she was there. Telling me he was bad news, from the start. And she was there when I came to her a few days after he..." I hesitated, the word unspoken but understood. Sam nodded gently, encouraging me without pressing.

"She was there when I showed up after a field expedition, right after I broke up with him," I continued, my voice softening as my eyes began to glisten with the memory.

Sam smiled faintly, catching the admiration in my expression.

"She even went to give him his stuff back- the things I borrowed for my supplies," I said, a bittersweet grin tugging at my lips as a knot tightened in my throat. "And she was there the night he stalked me. God, I was so mad- I almost put my ACH through his windshield. He had another girl in the passenger seat, all while trying to find me..."

Sam's smile faded, replaced by a somber look as he shifted next to me.

"I had another friend pull me away form his car and get me back to my Jeep," I said, my voice quieter now. "But Bri... she was the only one that managed to snap me out of that level of rage." I sighed heavily, the weight of the memory pressing down. "She took my phone and called my Squad Leader herself, told him what was happening. The next day I spent 6 hours in the MP station filling out reports- about Nick bruising my hand, stalking me... And when I got back to my company, i had to file another report. About the Sargent that assaulted me before that."

Sam's expression darkened, a firm frown settling on his face. "Eve, you've been through -"

"- alot?" I finished for him, almost smiling at the familiarity of the phrase. "You know, it was my Birthday..."

"...that next day?" Sam clarified, his brows furrowed slightly.

I nodded, a small grin tuggin at my lips. "Crazy right?" I chuckled, shaking my head as I leaned back against the headboard. "So, I guess my point with all that is - she's been there for me when it counted. When no one else was around. She even slept in my Barracks room that night to keep me company." I paused, my gaze dropping for a moment. "I've been bidding my time ever since, trying to pay her back for that. Don't make me pay that debt just yet."

My voice hardened on the last sentence, a faint snarl slipping through. Sam nodded solemnly, the weight of my words settling over him.

Silence followed, once again heavy but not uncomfortable. Something in his decent demeanor tugged at my heart, and I sighed, clapping my hands together lightly.

"Sam, listen..." I began, locking eyes with him. "You're a really sweet, hot guy - and I think you'd be perfect for Bri, in every single fucking way possible. But you've got to understand something- she's never had anyone like you in her life. I'm the closest thing, and, well..." I shrugged with a smirk. "I'm not gay, and neither is she."

Sam chuckled at my bluntness, his expression softening

"I think you could be really great for her," I continued. "She'll fight you every step of the way, but don't give up on her... Please."

He smiled, his eyes warm with understanding. "You have my word."

I held up my pinky with a teasing grin. "Pinky promise."

"Really?" He laughed, but he didn't hesitate to reach over, wrapping his pink around mine. "Alright. As long," he added, pausing to hold the gesture a moment longer, "As you try to be patient with Dean."

I smirked, my eyes narrowing playfully. "Tough ask, but I'll try."

We both grinned as we released the pinky promise, the moment lightening the mood between us.

The quiet was interrupted by the sound of the door clicking open. Dean and Bri stepped into the room, laughing and carrying two bags of food.

Sam and I exchanged confused looks as they fully entered, setting the bags on the desk. They were mid-banter, something about egos and the Impala, before they finally noticed us.

"Hey," smiled Dean, tossing Sam a Breakfast burrito. "Eve, you feeling up to eating, or...?"

"Bri, I'm not hungry." I replied with a smirk, stubbornness lacing my tone.

Bri grinned, undeterred, and tossed me a Breakfast burrito anyway. Dean glanced between us, his expression shifting into mock offense.

With an exaggerated eye roll, he dropped onto the bed across from me as Sam moved to sit with him.

"Eve,"Bri sighed as she crawled back into the bed beside me. She was flinching like crazy, but at least her mood seemed lighter. "It's the Mustang..."

"...what's wrong with our baby?!" I almost squealed, trying to chew the first bite of my burrito. Bri frowned, patting my knee with small, comforting squeezes.

"She's been hit by the guys..." Bri muttered, her face twisting in frustration. "...there's words spray painted all over it,and of the two tires are slashed -"

"- Nick and Jared?" I cut her off flatly, avoiding her gaze. "Fuck..." I grumbled, setting my Breakfast burrito down on the nightstand as a wave of rage churned my stomach. "Is is savable?"

"Bobby's on his way," Dean interjected from his bed. I glared a Bri, not looking at him. "You guys are more than welcome to work on it there while we have some recovery time."

"Thank you." I muttered over my shoulder, not bothering to meet his eyes. Then I turned back to Bri, my frustration boiling over. "What the fuck?" I asked bluntly, guesturing at Dean. My gaze demanded answers.

"What?" Bri shrugged, her tone light. "He brought food."

The brothers chuckled softly, clearly entertained.

I grumbled under my breath, adjusting myself under the blankets. Pain flared across my body, causing me to flinch and suck in a sharp breath.

"Can you guys...uh, give us a second?" Dean asked, his tone firm as he nodded at Bri and Sam. "I know you can't go far, but I'd like to talk to Eve."

"Good luck with her talking back,"Sam teased, smirking as he shot me a playful wink.

I managed a faint smile at my newfound friend as he and Bri moved to the loveseat, their voices lowering into their own private conversation.

I avoided Dean's gaze as he approached, sitting down on the edge of the bed next to me. He picked up my burrito, holding it out.

"Here," he said.

I glared at it, unmoving, until he sighed and set it back down on the table.

"Really, you're not talking to me?" He asked, licking his lips after finishing his own burrito.He tilted his head, studying my expression. "You're really mad at me, aren't you?"

I crossed my arms, sighing heavily.

"Go ahead," Dean sighed, his voice low. He grabbed a napkin, wiping his hands and lips before turning to face me fully. When I raised my eyebrows, confused, he clarified, "Yell at me. Hit me...do something."

"Why?" I asked simply, my eyebrows furrowing.

Dean sighed, his shoulders sagging as his gaze dropped to my lap. "I'd rather you do something- Yell at me, hit me- than deal with you not talking to me."

"I can't do that." I said quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. My eyes fell to my hands, now resting on the blankets.

"Why not?" Dean pressed, lifting his gaze to study my face.

"I can't...I won't," I replied, shaking my head. The movement made me flinch, and I shifted under the blankets, pulling my legs in to sit cross-legged.

"Why not -?" Dean began, frustration creeping into his voice.

"- Because I'm not built to be bad to you." I interrupted, my tone firm. My frown deepened, as I met his gaze, his beautiful gree eyes filled with turmoil. "I can't stay mad at you, Dean...but you have to understand something -"

"- I hurt you." He said softly, cutting me off this time. His concerned eyes locked onto mine, full of regret. "I didn't want to do that."

"But you did." I shot back, not letting him off the hook.

"Eve, I... I'm just..." Deans words faltered, and I watched him struggle to find the right ones. His vulnerability softened the edge of my anger. "...I'm just trying to keep you safe... Everyone, for that matter."

"What, do you have cooties or something?" I smirked, my attempt at humor earning a fleeting flicker of amusement across his face.

"What are you so afraid of, Dean?" I asked, my voice quieter now. Shifting, I reached out to take his hand, but he instinctively jerked away. For a moment, our eyes locked, and I saw the hesitation in his. Slowly, he replaced his hand, allowing me to take it for the first time.

"Eve, you staying as far away from me as possible is best," Dean's voice was serious, low and it seemed to rumbled the very bed beneath us. "This life- it's not for everyone. It ruins lives."

I tilted my head, supressing the retort bubbling at the back of my mind. Instead, I gave his hand a gentle squeeze, anchoring him to the moment.

"I'd rather ruin my life, than ever go back to the way things were before you tackled me out of the way of that Werewolf." I said, my voice steady , my eyes boring into his. "You think pushing me away is going to protect me? It won't."

Releasing his hand, I cupped his face gently, my fingers brushing against his tubble. His eyes widened slightly at the gesture but didn't pull away.

"It won't protect you either, Dean." I whispered, my voice filled with conviction. "You seem to be scared of losing me..."

Dean's face began to slowly turn red and he attempted to pull away, but I held his face firmly, keeping him locked in place. Our gazes were glued together, an invisible line of tension between us.

"Good," I said softly, my voice steady but full of emotion. "Be afraid of losing me - because I'm scared shitless of losing you."

I finally released his face, though his head remained where it was, as if tethered by my words.

"But," I continued, "I'd rather fight by your side, than spend my life wondering if you're okay..."

"...Eve..." Dean's voice was barely a whisper, almost breathless, as he leaned in closer. His eyes softened, and for a brief moment, it felt like the whole world melted away.

But I raised an index finger, stopping him just short. His brow furrowed in confusion, his lips parted slightly.

"...uh?" He muffled, his expression caught somewhere between bewilderment and anticipation.

"However," I smirked, the fire in my personality returning to the forefront, "what you did was pretty fucked up." I sighed dramatically, shaking my head with a playful smile. "- and you'll have to pay for that, hun."

"Pay for it?" Dean chuckled, his disbelief evident. His lips curled into a teasing grin, but I wasn't kidding.

Sliding my legs carefully over the edge of the bed, I let the blanket fall away, revealing my bare legs. His smirk widened as his eyes trailed down my figure, finally landing on the shirt I was wearing- his shirt.

"Oh," he said, realization dawning. His grin turned more mischievous. "Do you have anything on underneath that?"

I tilted my head, matching his cocky energy with a smirk of my own. "I don't know Dean, you tell me- you're the one that dressed me last night."

"She's not wearing anything underneath that." Dean announced confidently, his voice aimed at Sam, who immediately rolled his eyes and shook his head.

"How am I paying for this?" Dean asked, his tone laced with amusement as he watched me reach for my bag.

Grabbing it from the floor, I tossed it onto the bed with a light thud. His grin faltered the moment I started pulling the shirt over my head, revealing a hot pink lacy Victoria Secret bra and my black thong to match.

Dean froze, his gaze fixed as if hypnotized.

"You pay," I said, throwing the shirt directly at him, "by looking at what you're missing."

I could hear Sam stifle a laugh as Bri quickly held on of the food bags in front of his face, muttering something about giving me privacy.

Dean's grin wavered, replaced by a stunned silence, his eyes tracing my every move as I retrieve the rest of my neatly folded clothes from the bag. I flipped my hair over my shoulder with a deliberate flair and sauntered toward the bathroom.

The door clicked shut behind me, muffling the sound of Dean exhaling a low whistle and Bri and Sam's laughter as they started teasing him.

"Alright, who did it?" Bobby barked as Dean opened the hotel room the next morning. His boots echoed on the floor as he stepped inside, his expression a mix of anger and concern. "I saw the work they did on the Mustang downstairs. Who the hell did you piss -" He paused mid-sentence, his eyes landing on Bri and me. "Someone better fill me in."

"Come on," Bri said quickly, grabbing my arm and pulling me toward the door. Dean and Sam exchanged tense glances, their throats clearing simultaneously as if to brush off the heavy tension.

"We'll figure out seating arrangements," Bri continued, "And grab some of our stuff out of the Mustang before they load it up."

"Wait!" Bobby's gruff voice stopped us in our tracks. "You two aren't going any where by yourselves."

I turned, attempting to shoot Bobby a firm glare, trying to match his intensity with a hardened expression of my own. He wasn't fazed. Instead, his sharp gaze met mine with an unreadable softness, as if he was silently acknowledging the storm raging just beneath the surface.

"Hold on," Bobby said again, his voice calmer now, gesturing for the group to get moving. He swept the room with his eyes as Dean and Sam grabbed the remaining bags. Within minutes, the five of us were heading down to the parking lot.

"Watch it..." Dean muttered as he gently placed a hand on my waist guiding me into the elevator.

"..I ain't broke." I smirked, glancing over at Bri, who offered me a small smile of her own.

The elevator ride was silent, the weight of what waited for us outside pressing down on everyone.

When we stepped into the parking lot, the sight of the Mustang's damage hit me like a punch to the gut. Spray painted slurs tarnished the once beautiful paintjob, and it sat unevenly, two rims sitting on the ground.

I moved forward, sliding my fingers across the hood, my heart sinking. My lips moved in a string of whispered curses as I nspected the rest of the car, every detail worse than the last.

"Two tires were slashed. I'm just hoping they didn't put sugar in the gas tank." Bri confirmed softly, her voice heavy with sadness.

Without a word, I reached out and pulled her into a gentle hug.

"It's just a car," I murmured, though we both knew it wasn't. The Mustang was ours, but it ment more to Bri than me. She was the gearhead, the one who poured herself into keeping it running. I knew this cut her deeper.

"We'll fix it at Bobby's," I added quietly. Bri nodded into my shoulder, and we stood there, clinging to each other in the shared silence of loss.

The boys and Bobby worked quickly, loading the Mustang onto the tow truck with practiced efficiency. My eyes, however, scanned the parking lot and the road beyond, waiting for a glimpse of them- Nick, Jared, anyone.

But there was nothing.

Groaning, I reached into my back pocket and pulled out my phone.

With a glance at Bri, I chucked it into oncoming traffic.

The phone hit the asphalt with a satisfying clatter before a taxi rolled over it, followed by a truck. ]

"No more tracking me," I smirked, the defiance in my tone matching the grin on my face. Bri watched the shattered pieces scatter across the street before draping her arm over my shoulders.

"I'm proud of you," she said softly, leaning her head against mine.

I returned the gesture, leaning my head on hers, letting the moment of quiet solidarity settle between us.

Bobby's sharp clap broke through the stillness.

"All right," he called, his voice gruff yet tinged with humor. "I can only fit one of you in the tow truck. The other's riding with Tweedledee and Tweedlebumb here."

Without hesitation, I raised my hand.

"Eve, with me?" Bobby confirmed, nodding as I stepped toward the truck.

Dean's face fell, his disappointment poorly masked as Sam helped me climb into the cab of the tow truck. Bri gave me a quick hug before stepping back.

"You two," Bobby gestured to Dean and Sam, "I know you know the way, but keep up."

Dean nodded, but before I could pull the cab door shut, he stepped in between it and the frame, blocking my way.

"Hey," he said, his voice cutting over the steady rumble of the tow truck's engine.

I looked at him, my eyes narrowing slightly as I studied his expression. His usual bravado was there, but beneath it, I caught a flicker of vulnerability, almost pleading.

"Can we talk when we get there? Maybe?" He asked, his voice quieter now, his gaze earnest.

For a moment, I considered brushing him off. Letting him stew in whatever emotions he was wrestling with. But then I saw it- the effort, the silent ask for a chance.

My eyes softened.

"Maybe," I said, the corner of my mouth lifting in a teasing smirk.

His lips twitched in response, the amusement in his gaze finally breaking through the tension. Before he could say anything more, I winked and pulled the door shut, the sound of it closing punctuating the moment.

As the tow truck started to pull away, I glanced out the window, catching Dean's faint grin as he turned back toward Sam and Bri.

The five of us began the long, eleven-hour drive to South Dakota, the quiet hum of the road stretching ahead.

"So, what's this all about?" Bobby's voice cut through the silence, heavy with the weight of unspoken concern. I shifted in the seat, but it wasn't just physical discomfort that had me squirming. It was his question, the one that felt like it was digging a little too deep.

I glanced out the passenger side window, the blur of the landscape speeding past doing little to settle my mind. I wasn't ready to talk about it.

Bobby's eyes flicked to me as he drove, his expression softening. He didn't press me, but there was an underlying urgency in his voice, an invitation to explain, to give him a glimpse into what was happening beneath the surface.

"You don't have to tell me," Bobby said, his tone a bit gentler, "But I'd like to know what you're getting my boys into. You girls showing up has thrown Dean off. Sam too."

"Well, it's not like we planned to run into them at the Grande..." I spoke, sighing into the dashboard.

"...what were you two doing there to start with?" Bobby inquired, glancing across the cab.

I smirked, chuckling at how my answer was about to sound, "Ghost Hunting..."