Written by: gooberlanes13

Edited by: Kari Gorsuch

The day slipped away, filled with prepping, research, and cleaning weapons. When I finally found Bri, she was outside, sitting on the hood of the Impala, staring up at the clouds like they held the answers to some massive question.

The cool air carried the distant rustling of leaves as I approached, my boots crunching against the gravel, the sound echoing in the silence.

I stopped just short of the car. "Mind if I join you?"

She glanced at me, then patted the spot beside her. "It's your boyfriend's car. Pretty sure you get dibs."

I snorted, hopping up beside her.

For a moment, we just sat there, taking in the quiet, the stillness wrapping around us like a blanket.

"You're nervous," she finally said, her voice soft but knowing. It wasn't a question.

I let out a slow breath. "Yeah."

Bri nodded, running a hand through her hair. "Me too."

I tilted my head, studying her profile. "You know, we can come up with something else, something that doesn't involve you being live bait. You don't have to do this."

She scoffed, her eyes meeting mine with a small smile. "You really think I'm gonna sit this one out?"

I sighed, rubbing my temples. "I had to try."

She shook her head. "You're not getting rid of me that easily."

Silence stretched between us for a moment before Bri finally turned to face me fully. "Eve... I know this is hitting you harder than you're letting on."

I opened my mouth, but she cut me off.

"And before you lie to me and say you're fine, just don't, okay?"

I swallowed hard, the tightness in my chest growing as I fought to hold it together. "I just—" I exhaled sharply, frustration and fear bubbling up. "I don't want to lose anyone."

Bri's expression softened. "Neither do I."

I clenched my jaw, looking away, unable to meet her eyes. "But if it comes down to it—"

"No."

I blinked, turning back to her.

Bri's eyes burned with something fierce, something unyielding. "There is no 'if it comes down to it.' We're not sacrificing anybody. We're not sacrificing me either."

I let out a humorless laugh, the weight of her words clashing with the reality of our situation. "That's not how live bait works, Bri."

She grabbed my hand, squeezing it tight. "Maybe not. But that doesn't mean we worry ourselves to death before the fight even starts."

I looked at her, really looked at her, and felt something inside me crack, just a little.

Bri sighed, resting her head against my shoulder. Both of us hesitated for a moment before our gazes drifted back to the clouds that lazily coasted above us.

"You're stuck with me, Eve. So deal with it." She snorted, the sound soft and light, and I couldn't help but smile.

"I wouldn't have it any other way, Bri..." I sighed heavily, taking her hand in mine as we rested them on the hood of the Impala. "...I'd lose my mind if anything ever happened to you, you know?"

"You think I'd stay sane?" she chuckled, her voice lighter now. "I damn near jumped Dean when you went missing in Casper—"

"Why does everyone keep bringing that up?" I scoffed, rolling my eyes as she smiled over at me.

"We were all worried, dummy." Bri shot back, her voice teasing, though she didn't move from my shoulder. I smiled down at her, feeling a little weight lift, though not completely.

The heaviness in my chest didn't fully disappear, but sitting there under the clouds with Bri by my side, I felt just a little less alone.

"You know," I huffed, causing Bri to stir. "I hope I die first. I don't think I could live without you."

"Jokes on you," she scoffed, her tone light but serious underneath. "You're already dead."

I snorted, and just like that, we both erupted in laughter, not caring at all how loud we were. In that moment, the world outside seemed to fall away, and for a little while, it was just us, the Impala, and the sky above.

"I'd ask what the plan is, but..." Bri shrugged, earning a knowing but concerned gaze from me. "...has Dean talked to you since earlier?"

I eyed her suspiciously, "No...should he?"

"I mean...yes but -" started Bri for us to be interrupted by the front door screen slamming shut, earning our attention. There stood the man himself, beckoning us back into the house. With an exchange of curious expressions, we slid off the hood of the Impala and went back into the house.

"Okay, now that the plan is in place," Dean cleared his throat, glancing over myself and Bri, but I noticed his eyes lingered on me a little longer than usual. "Time to clean weapons, get the kit in the Impala organized and move out tonight."

"Tonight?" echoed Sam, earning all our eyes.

Dean paused, eyeing his brother for a moment. "Yeah."

"Well, you two figure that out..." I smirked, eyeing the rolled out kit of knives. "...I'll clean these, and then my Sig.' I announced, walking over to the cot and placing the knives along the edge and crawling over while placing my Sig to my side for cleaning later.

I sat there, cross-legged with a worn cloth in one hand, a silver knife in the other. My fingers worked on instinct, running the fabric along the blade's surface, making sure it was spotless. Not that it mattered too much - by the end of this, it wouldn't be clean anymore anyway.

Across the room, on the couch, Bri was double checking salt rounds, loading them into shells with mechanical efficiency. Sam stood by the kitchen table, breaking down and cleaning a sawed-off shotgun, his jaw tight and focused. Dean was by the window, back turned to us as he checked his Colt with a steady, practiced ease.

The room had gone quiet when we got to work, as did the house, but the distant clicks of a shotgun upstairs told me Bobby was cleaning his own stuff upstairs.

I set the finished knife aside and reached for the next, but my eyes flicked over to my Sig resting beside me. It was at this moment that something strange came over me, despite the fact that I slept in his cot with him last night - the idea of my Sig sitting on his cot, in his space, made my chest tighten.

Slowly, I grabbed the pistol and popped the magazine out. One by one I checked the rounds, my fingers moving automatically, but my mind wasn't on the weapon at all.

Dean was watching me, I could feel it.

When I looked up at him, his gaze was still lingering - steady, unreadable. But there was something else beneath the surface, something quieter.

He didn't say anything, he just nodded like he understood something I hadn't even said out loud.

I nodded back.

And then, just like that, he turned away, snapping the cylinder back into his revolver with a sharp click.

I clenched my jaw, showing the magazine back into my Sig and racking the slide. The sound cut through the silence, a reminder of what was coming.

My eyes found Bri, finishing up loading the last of the salt rounds. I watched as Sam leaned down, murmuring something to Bri, she immediately arched a brow at him, smirking slightly before nudging his ribs with her elbow.

"Worried about me, Winchester?" She teased, but there was something softer in her voice.

Sam rolled his eyes, but the concern was clear in the way he looked at her - only reminding me of our conversation earlier. I watched at the way his fingers briefly ghosted over the wrist like he wanted to grab her hand, but the last few days held him back, instead he smirked, "You're the one playing live bait."

Bri shrugged, giving him an easy grin that didn't quite meet her eyes, "Yeah, well. Wouldn't be the first time."

Sam exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair- flashing me a knowing gaze. "We've talked about this, Bri."

Bri just studied him for a moment, something unspoken passing between them. There was a moment of silence between the two of them, and a knowing gaze hovered over them.

I just smirked to myself, shaking my head. Those two were ridiculous, just get together already - or am I wrong?

"You're staring, sweetheart."

Dean's voice was low, edged with amusement. I turned my head to find him watching me from the other side of the room, arms crossed, one brow raised like he knew exactly what I'd been thinking.

"Was not." I scoffed.

He snorted, pushing off the wall and making his way over, dropping onto the co next to me with that signature Dean Winchester confidence that now drove me crazier than it ever did before. "Please. You were practically writing their wedding vows in your head."

I rolled my eyes, "you're one to talk."

Dean leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just for me, "Oh yeah? What's that supposed to mean?"

I kept my expression neutral, running my cloth over the edge of my knife. "Just that you've been watching me all night, but I don't see you cleaning anything."

Dean didn't answer right away. He just smirked, leaning back on his elbows like he had all the time in the world. "Maybe I like watching."

I faltered for half a second, my fingers gripping the handle of my knife just a little tighter.

His smirk widened - Asshole.

I huffed, shaking my head as I placed the finished knife next to my Sig. "Are you planning on helping or just gonna sit there and stare?"

Dean hummed, pretending to think about it. Then, without warning, he reached over and plucked my Sig straight out of my hands.

"Dean." I blinked.

He ignored me, inspecting the weapon like he was appraising a classic car. "Youkeep this thing in good shape," He muttered, flipping it over in his hand.

I snatched it back before he could start field-stripping it. "Damn right, I do."

Dean just grinned, leaning in again. "Relax, sweetheart. I wasn't gonna mess with your baby."

I narrowed my eyes. "You have exactly five seconds to move before I stab you."

Dean didn't move. Didn't even flinch. He just held my gaze, amusement flickering behind his eyes. "Nah" He said easily, his voice dipping into something warm, something dangerous. "You wouldn't."

The tension stretched, thick and heavy between us. My pulse kicked up, and judging by the way Dean's eyes flicked down to my mouth for the briefest second, he knew it.

I forced myself to roll my eyes and turned back to my work. "Cocky Son of a -"

"- That's my line." He chimed, earning my eyes again. He chuckled, finally shifting back, but his voice still held that damn smirk. "You love it."

I shook my head, exhaling through my nose as I finished loading the Sig and set it aside.

At one point, Dean and Sam exited the office to start organizing the Impala's trunk, leaving Bri and myself alone to finish up the rest of the weapons.

I glanced over at Bri as I finished setting the last cleaned knife aside, stretching my arms over my head with a groan. The tension from the past few days had settled in my shoulders, and the quiet that had filled the room was starting to feel suffocating.

Bri let out a dramatic sigh and tossed down her cleaning rag. "You know what this is missing?"

I arched a brow at her. "Please, enlighten me."

She smirked and jerked her thumb toward the old radio on Bobby's desk, the one that looked like it hadn't been touched in years. "Some tunes. This silence is gonna kill me faster than any demon ever could."

I snorted but didn't argue as she crossed the room, fiddling with the dials until a burst of static filled the air. She twisted the knob a little more, and then, as if the universe itself was cutting us a break, the opening chords of You Give Love a Bad Name by Bon Jovi blared through the speakers.

"Oh, hell yes!" Bri whooped, immediately grabbing the nearest bottle of gun oil and using it as a makeshift microphone.

I laughed, shaking my head. "You're such a dork."

"Damn right," she shot back before belting out the opening lyrics, completely unbothered by how ridiculous she looked.

I sighed dramatically, but it was impossible to fight the grin pulling at my lips. Screw it. I grabbed the cleaning cloth, twisting it between my fingers like a microphone, and jumped in right beside her.

Within seconds, we were both up on our feet, singing at the top of our lungs, dancing around like idiots. Bri twirled, nearly knocking over a box of ammo, while I spun a knife in one hand like a drumstick before catching it midair and dramatically pointing at her.

The stress of the day melted away, the weight of what was coming momentarily forgotten as we sang into our cleaning supplies like we were headlining a stadium tour.

I grabbed Bri's hand and spun her, sending her into a fit of laughter as she stumbled against the desk. "Damn, Eve, didn't know you had moves!"

"Oh, sweetheart," I smirked, flipping my hair. "You haven't seen anything yet."

And then, as if perfectly timed to ruin our fun, the door creaked open.

"Are you—?"

Sam's voice cut off abruptly, and I barely had time to register that Bri had frozen mid-spin, gun oil bottle still clutched in her hands like a microphone.

I turned just in time to see both Sam and Dean standing in the doorway, staring.

Dean had one brow raised, his lips twitching like he was fighting back a grin, but Sam? Oh, Sam looked like he had just discovered fire and had no idea what to do with it. His eyes were locked on Bri, like she was the only thing in the room, like he was seeing her in a completely new light.

Bri, to her credit, recovered fast. She jutted her chin out, smirking. "Well? You boys just gonna stand there, or you wanna join in?"

Dean chuckled, stepping inside and making his way over to me. "Tempting, sweetheart, but I think I'll just enjoy the show."

I rolled my eyes, swatting him with the cleaning cloth. "Don't act like you're too cool for Bon Jovi."

Dean smirked, leaning down, his voice low so only I could hear. "You're lucky you're cute."

My stomach flipped, but I ignored it, instead turning my attention back to Sam, who still hadn't moved, still hadn't torn his eyes away from Bri.

Bri crossed her arms, raising a brow. "What? You never seen a girl dance before, Winchester?"

Sam blinked, like he was snapping out of a trance. He cleared his throat, shifting awkwardly. "Uh, yeah. I mean—" He rubbed the back of his neck. "I just... wasn't expecting to walk into this."

Bri grinned, stepping closer. "You're always so serious, Sam. Maybe you should loosen up."

For a second, I thought she was going to grab his hands and force him to dance. And for a second, I thought Sam was going to let her.

But then, Dean clapped his hands together. "Alright, as much as I'm enjoying whatever this is, we gotta hit the road soon."

Bri winked at Sam before grabbing the gun oil bottle and placing it back on the table. "Saved by the bell, Winchester."

Sam let out a breathy laugh, shaking his head, but the look in his eyes didn't fade.

Dean, meanwhile, was still watching me with that damn smirk. "You and Bri putting on a whole damn concert in here, huh?"

I shrugged, grinning. "Gotta keep things interesting."

Dean leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just for me. "Oh, trust me. You do."

The air between us thickened for a split second before Bri cleared her throat loudly, snapping me back to reality.

I turned back to her, watching as she grabbed the last of the cleaned weapons. "Come on, Rockstar," she teased, nudging me. "Let's finish up before Dean starts getting all sappy."

Dean scoffed. "Sappy? Please."

I chuckled, giving him a playful wink before following Bri toward the door.

As I passed Sam, I caught the way his gaze trailed after Bri, something deep and unreadable flickering in his expression.

Yup. Those two were so doomed.

The trunk of the Impala creaked as it swung open, revealing the neatly organized arsenal inside. I reached for the last duffle of weapons, tossing it in alongside the others while Bri double-checked the ammo count.

"You call this disorganized?" I scoffed, impressed as Bri shot me a knowing smile.

"It's seen better days," Dean muttered, admiring the trunk. "I guess it'll have to do," He glanced at me with a small wink before clapping his hands together as he surveyed the trunk closer, "Got everything?"

"Unless you've got some holy hand grenades lying around, I think we're set." I muttered, slamming the trunk shut.

Dean smirked, 'Knew I kept you around for a reason." He watched me chuckle as he swung his arm around my shoulders, pulling me in to kiss my head firmly.

Sam shot him a look before tossing his own back into the backseat. "Let's just make sure we don't need any last-minute miracle weapons."

Bri huffed, adjusting the strap of her shoulder holster. "Yeah, well. Worst case scenario, I'll just start throwing punches."

Dean snorted, patting the roof of the car before jerking his head towards the driver's side. His eyes were still scanning every curve of mine before he cleared his throat again, "Alright, let's roll out."

"Don't die, idjits." Bobby's voice came from the porch, making Bri and I both pause.

"You're not coming?" I asked, as Sam and Dean stopped short to follow our gaze.

"I have something to take care of here, then I'll be along," Bobby waved us away as Bri and I, without looking at each other, shrugged and ducked into the backseat in sync, while adjusting Sam's duffle so we both had room.

The boys ducked into the front seat and I couldn't help but admire the familiar leather seats as I pressed my back against them, settling into my usual spot. Sam adjusted himself in the front seat, sitting in front of a nervous looking Bri. While Dean reached for the radio, I managed to beat him to it.

Lunging over the front seat, I slapped his hand away from the knob, earning chuckles from Sam and Bri and wide eyes from him.

I winked at him and twisted the dial to something else other than classic rock - just to keep him on his toes. A twangy country song crackled through the speakers, triggering Dean's head to snap towards me.

"What? It's fitting." I smirked, holding myself in an awkward position over the front seat.

Dean made a disgusted noise and immediately reached for the radio again, only for me to slap his hand away again - earning another chuckle from Bri.

"Fine, close minded mother -" I cut myself finding Zeppelin on a channel and turned the volume up. " - better babe?"

"You know it, sweetheart." he chuckled, watching me slam myself back into the backseat to a more than amused Bri.

"What?" I smiled.

"Your face is so red," she giggled, pointing at me.

"You try holding yourself up by your ribs then." I smirked, earning more of a chuckle from her.

The night stretched long ahead of us, the road dark and empty, save the Impala's headlights cutting through the black.

I glanced over at Bri, watching her stare out the window, her fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns against the fogged-up glass. My eyes found Sam's figure in the front seat, his brows furrowed - obviously deep in thought like he was already playing out every possible scenario in his head.

My stomach twisted at the many ways this could play out. The silence in the car stretched, thick and heavy until Dean's voice cut through it.

"Eve."

My eyes shot into his in the rearview mirror.

"You alright?"

I blinked at him, watching his eyes focus on the road ahead, his fingers absentmindedly drumming against the steering wheel.

"Define alright." I sighed, mentally begging for his gaze, for some grounding, comfort, but he just shook his head.

"Fair point.

We lapsed back into silence, but this time it felt different - not as heavy, somehow.

Dean adjusted himself, and I immediately found myself moving before I could react. I slid to the edge of the seat, wrapping my arm through the hole made by the seat belt and Dean's shoulder. I wrapped my arm around his shoulder's curve, allowing it to hang down his chest.

I felt him relax.

He took his free hand and tugged my hand to his lips, pressing a butterfly kiss on it. Causing my heart to flutter as I leaned my head on the back of his shoulder, only to catch Bri's eyes assessing the scene.

I raised my brows, What?

She shrugged silently with a i-know-something-you-don't-know smirk on her face as I watched her eyes flicker from me to Sam's tense stature in front of her.

My heart broke for the glisten that came across her eyes.

But she didn't do anything.

He didn't do anything.

With a heavy sigh I felt Dean take my hand, resting his palm against his chest while interlacing our fingers.

I closed my eyes, taking in the silence, Dean's touch, his heat, his body language - everything in that moment was considered 'normal' now, because whatever was coming - was about to change everything...I could feel it in my stomach and my heart.

Without adjusting anything, I placed my head to a certain degree to take in the road wind, Dean's leather and whiskey smell, and found myself slipping off into an awkward, tense slumber.