CHAPTER TWO:
BAD DAY AT BLACK ROCK.

⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅

"——ZY ENOUGH TO trust a fucking demon?!"

"Told you so," Dean pointedly muttered, shooting Sam a look. The younger Winchester was seated in the passenger seat of the Impala as Dean quickly drove down a darkened highway, Birdie nestled in the backseat and situated in between the brothers with her arms folded over the back of their seats so she didn't feel left out. The trees along the highway were almost black as they loomed under the night sky, dozens of branches bending and twisting like they were trying to reach out and snatch them from the road like monsters. The only light inside the Impala was coming from the radio, illuminating their faces and making their expressions easier to distinguish. The music was turned down almost all the way since Sam had taken the liberty of doing it so that both Dean and Birdie would actually listen to what he had to say. It'd helped somewhat, but the conversation wasn't going exactly as he'd hoped.

It was only the next day after they'd left the hospital and picked up Birdie's things from her motel room, having headed west to find a motel for the night. They'd explained what all she'd missed out on since they parted ways after shutting the Gates of Hell——which had still let all kinds of demons out into their world——as they drove, but Birdie couldn't help but be pissed that they, or more specifically Sam, had purposely waited to mention a certain detail that had been left out.

Sam had been hesitant to mention the demon, Ruby, who'd saved them since demons were the monsters Birdie hated most of all. But, if she was going to be sticking with them for a little while, then she needed to know about the demon in case she decided to show her face again.

"Just hear me out——" Sam tried to interject, huffing. He wasn't expecting Birdie to exactly be okay with it, but he didn't think she'd react the same way Dean had. She was a little more understanding than most hunters, usually trying to see both sides when it came to the brothers; though, this time it was involving a monster, and as much as Birdie trusted Sam, she wasn't so sure about his idea to work with a demon.

"Hear you out?!" Birdie sharply demanded, eyes wide with rage as Sam turned his head towards her with his lips parted. "Why didn't you send her back to where she belongs?"

"Thank you! That's what I said!" Dean scoffed.

"Shut up, Dean," Sam and Birdie snapped in unison, making the oldest of the three falter in surprise and offense.

"So you just chatted with her? Got her name and——"

"No one was chatting," Sam hastily snapped, brows furrowed together.

Dean turned his head to the side. "Oh, yeah? Then answer Bird's question: why didn't you send her ass back to hell?"

"Because-because she said she might be able to help us out," Sam answered just as firmly as Dean had.

"How?" Sam sighed, shaking his head as he looked away from his big brother. Birdie rolled her eyes, lazily resting her chin on the top of the seat in front of her. "No, really, Sam? How? How could she possibly help us?"

"She told me she could help you, okay?" Birdie frowned, eyes snapping towards Sam at his response. Dean's confusion only increased. "Help you out of the crossroads deal."

"And you believed her?" Birdie couldn't help but wonder in shock. Her tone wasn't as snippy as before, but more filled with genuine curiosity.

Was Sam really serious about working with a demon?

"What's wrong with you, huh?" Dean demanded to know, almost amused by his brother's response. "She's lying. You gotta know that, don't you? She knows what your weakness is. It's me." Sam clenched his jaw but didn't respond. "What else did she say? Dude?"

"Nothing," Sam gritted out. Dean didn't seem to believe it. Birdie shifted in her seat, twisting her lips.

She'd witnessed over a dozen fights between the brothers——they weren't about to shelf the issue just because Birdie was with them once again.

"Nothing! Look, I'm not an idiot, guys. I'm not talking about trusting her. I'm talking about using her," Sam said, anger etched in his words as he tried to explain himself. "I mean, we're at war, right? And we don't know jackshit about the enemy. We don't know where they are. We don't know what they're doing. I mean, hell, we don't even know what they want. Now, this Ruby knows more than we will ever find out on our own. Now, yes, it's a risk. I know that. But we need to take it."

Birdie ran a stressful hand along her face, pushing her head into her hands. She didn't want to deal with a demon, but she trusted Sam and Dean——probably more than anyone besides Bobby. Perhaps Sam was onto something, but she wasn't about to give a demon an all access to pass to her, or Sam and Dean for that matter.

"You're okay, right?" Dean asked Sam. "I mean, you're feeling okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine! Why are you always asking me that?!" Sam harshly demanded to know, anger spiked and voice loud in the car.

Birdie cocked a brow and reached forward to place her hand on Sam's forehead for good measure. He instantly swatted her hand away with a harsh glare. "What? I'm just making sure," she innocently said, a small smile creeping on her lips.

Dean glared at his brother, but the sound of a phone ringing interrupted their heated conversation.

Birdie knew it wasn't hers because she had hand-picked her ringtones for her few contacts, and for those who weren't in her contacts, she still chose something else besides a default ringtone. "Not me," she stated, glancing between the brothers.

Sam checked his pockets with an huff, glancing at his silent phone. "It's not mine," he said.

Dean checked the one that was tucked in the visor above him and then his coat, but it wasn't either of them. "Nope," he said. His eyes flickered to the glove compartment, realization dawning on his features. "Check the glove compartment. It's Dads."

"Dads?" Sam repeated with a puzzled look.

"Yes. I keep it charged up in case any of his old contacts call," Dean urgently responded.

Sam opened the glove compartment and pulled out John Winchesters old phone. That was the one that was ringing. Sam furrowed his brows and flipped it opened before putting it to his ear.

"Hello?" he answered. Birdie scooted a little closer to him, trying to hear the voice on the other end. "Yes, this is Edgar Casey," Sam easily lied, glancing towards Dean. "No, no, no, no. Don't call the police. Don't-don't call the police. I'll handle this myself. Thanks. You know, can you just——can you just lock it back up for me? Great. Uh, I uh, I don't have my-my book in front of me." Sam made a pencil motion towards Birdie and Dean to silently ask for pen and paper. Birdie quickly reached into her bag beside her, yanking out a piece of notebook paper and a pen to hand to him. "Do you-do you have the address so I can. . .sure. Okay, go ahead. Right. Thanks a lot." He hung up the phone, his eyes swiveling over to Dean. "Dad ever tell you he kept a container at a storage place?"

"What?" Based on Dean's reaction and response, Birdie assumed he didn't know either. She didn't either, but why would she?

"Outside of Buffalo."

Dean tilted his head. "No way."

"For real?" Birdie raised a brow.

"Yeah, and someone just broke into it."

⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅

Birdie had fallen asleep on their way to Buffalo, New York, much to her surprise. She was still healing from her near-death experience as it was only a day ago, but she was already itching to get back to hunting and saving lives. But before she or the brothers could even think of finding a case, they had to see if they could figure out what or if anything was stolen from John Winchester's super-secret unit and track down who broke in.

The place was a dark mess of a storage unit when they opened the metal door, specs of dust covering almost every inch like John hadn't been there for quite some time——even before his death.

A bright red pentagram was painted in front of the door, meaning that demons wouldn't have been able to get inside and take something even if they wanted. There was also a small puddle of blood on the ground with two sets of boot tracks still evident, meaning it was a two-person job. Dean had crouched down and found a string of wire near shin level——it had been booby-trapped for anyone who wasn't John.

The trio carefully stepped over it, shining their flashlights in the darkened room as they searched for possible answers.

Birdie's brown eyes roamed the room, curiously peering at all of the things John had stashed away inside the unit. There were dozens of artifacts spread throughout the unit, some very ancient and beyond Birdie's vast knowledge of the supernatural. An old coffin was placed off to the side, some tattered flag lazily tossed on top of it with some tools stacked on the other end. There was an entire shelf filled with thick books lined up one after the other, many in different languages with detailed markings on the covers. There were a few animal skulls in the mix, but there were some that weren't animals, but monstrous creatures; some of which Birdie had never seen before. But, what surprised Birdie most was them finding things belonging to Sam and Dean——childhood memories that shocked even the boys to find.

Birdie couldn't believe it.

She'd never taken John for being the sentimental type.

A part of the room was fenced in as an extra precaution, the lock to the door busted off by brute force. There was a workbench in the left corner, weapons of all sorts hung up on the wall above the bench. Surprisingly, they didn't just see guns and weapons stored inside, but landmines and grenades——which Birdie might not have taken a couple of just in case (which was dangerous, yes, but she knew how to properly use them thanks to her incredibly paranoid mother). Strangely though, none of the weapons had been taken almost like the thieves knew what they'd been searching for.

On a separate shelf, there were multiple locked boxes with symbols painted on them——binding magic, as Sam had pointed out, which were used on curse boxes.

Birdie was the one who'd used her flashlight and pointed out one was one missing; there was a spot where there was no dust like something had been taken from there recently——not to mention she saw the tiny blood droplets near the empty space.

Birdie greatly hoped that whoever took the box didn't open it.

But, with their luck, they most likely did.

Thankfully, they'd been able to track down the car with the license plate number of the vehicle as the men who broke into John's unit had stupidly parked in front of the security cameras.

"You should wait here, Bird," Dean told Birdie as he and Sam fully loaded their guns before they went to retrieve the box from the thieving men.

Birdie scoffed in disbelief, swiftly shoving the clip back into her gun. "As if."

"You promised you'd hang back," Sam softly reminded her, briefly peering over his shoulder towards her.

"Yeah, if you got a case," she replied, brows knitted together. "This is just us retrieving something of your dad's. We'll be done with this before lunch."

Dean sighed in defeat, sharing a look with Sam. They didn't have time to fight with her on it nor was she going to listen to them either way. "Fine, but stay behind us."

"Okay, okay," she grumbled, climbing out of the backseat of the car. She quickly followed the brothers into the rundown apartment complex, trailing behind them to one of the apartments that one of the thieves supposedly lived in.

Sam easily picked the lock, Dean and Birdie raising their guns as they cautiously entered the smelly apartment.

"Ace of hearts," they heard a man say with pure joy. Birdie tightly clenched her jaw, checking in the rooms they passed as they slowly headed towards the voices. Sam moved along behind Dean after slowly closing the door, making sure he could see both Dean and Birdie. Of course, Birdie did not stay behind both of them. "Royal flush. Grossman, that's the second royal flush in eight hands."

"Yeah, this is a lot of fun," a second voice sarcastically replied.

Dean pressed his back up against the wall, Birdie and Sam doing the same.

"I can't lose. I mean, really, I-I can't lose," the first voice, a man with a buzzcut and a bandage around his left shoulder, said as he stood up and grabbed something off of the coffee table. "I think this thing really works. You know what I'm saying?" he said before lightly coughing, picking up a glass he'd poured some alcohol into. "I'll tell you one thing——there's no way in hell we are handing it over to that stuck-up bitch. Not after all we've been through." The three hunters carefully moved closer, closing in on the thieves. "Let's go, huh? Let's get out of here. Let's go have some fun."

Swiftly, the three hunters barged in from the hall with their guns aimed at the men. "Freeze! Freeze! Nobody move!" Dean ordered. "Don't move!"

"Stop!" Sam added in just as fiercely.

They got closer to the couch the men had been sitting on, their hands raised as they were outnumbered.

"Give us the box," Birdie ordered, eyes narrowed and teeth gritted together.

"Please tell me you didn't——"

"Oh, they did," Sam stated, spotting the opened box on the end table beside the couch that had nothing inside it.

Dean and Birdie followed Sam's gaze, annoyance now on their features.

"You opened it?!" Dean hastily shouted in frustration, moving forward and grabbing the man with the shoulder injury to force him against the wall behind him.

The man grunted as the other ones' eyes widened in shock.

"Are you guys cops?" the one with the injury asked.

"Huh?"

"Are you guys cops?!"

"What was in the box?" Dean demanded to know, his gun aimed at the man's throat as he pressed his arm on his upper chest. He followed the man's gaze to the table, seeing a dirtied rabbit's foot laying there. "Oh, was that it, huh? It was, wasn't it? What is that thing?"

The man suddenly swung his arm and knocked Dean backward. His signature gun clattered from his hand, a shot going off. The bullet bounced off the radiator, hitting Birdies gun and to Sams to make them drop their weapons. Birdie jumped back in utter shock, her eyes widening when the bullet finally rammed through a lamp on the other side of the room and shattered it into dozens of pieces.

Birdie looked to the other man in a plaid shirt, completely stunned. He took that time to lunge at her, causing her to harshly punch him in the jaw with a grunt. Sam rushed to her aid, but the man shoved him into Dean.

Dean flung back into the coffee table, the rabbit's foot flying up into the air. "Sorry," Sam meekly breathed out, but he was grabbed and forcefully shoved into the ground by the man with a buzzcut.

Birdie went running at him, but the other man grabbed her from behind. She grunted and stomped her foot onto his, making him howl in pain. Dean went to stand, but the buzzcut man who'd knocked Sam down grabbed Dean's gun and it whacked him in the face, causing him to crumble again. The other man grabbed Birdie's hair and roughly threw her on the ground, causing her to wince at the pain that shot through her ribs; oh, they were definitely still very sore. Then he went for Sam as Birdie withered in pain on the floor, crawling on top of the younger Winchester and squeezing his throat.

Sam gasped for air, his other hand helplessly reaching for the rabbit's foot on the ground near him; it was worth a shot, right?

He grabbed ahold of it and kicked the man off of him, sending him flying back nearly across the room. Birdie carefully pulled herself up off the ground, a faint wince on her features.

"Dean, Bird. . ." Sam said, standing up with the foot in hand, "I got it."

But, the man with a buzzcut pointed the gun at Sam's chest with a dark look in his eyes. "No, you don't."

Birdie gulped as Dean's eyes widened, slowly standing up. The other man shook his head, starting to back away until his eyes fell on Birdie's fallen gun.

Sam made a face, and as the man pulled the trigger, it clicked. The man tried to cock the gun again, but it was apparently jammed. Dean went to grab him, but the man started to stumble back and tripped over the broken coffee table. He was knocked out seconds later, having done all of the work himself.

The three shared a look, Birdie noticing the other man was starting to stand. "Sam," she said, but just as the guy started to move and aim Birdies gun, the bookshelves on the wall above him fell and tumbled on top of his head, knocking him out as well. The gun flew from his hand, landing straight into Sam's.

Birdie gaped, her mind struggling to comprehend what exactly had just happened.

Dean looked to Sam, letting out a shaky breath. "That was a lucky break," he noted. Sam silently looked from the gun, furrowing his brows as Birdie came over, gingerly cradling her ribs. Dean looked at Sam's opposite hand, scrunching up his face. "Is that a rabbit's foot?"

Sam held it up, copying Dean's expression. "I think it is."

"Holy shit," Birdie breathed out, a small smile starting to appear on her lips.

Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all.

⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅

"Congratulations! You are the one-millionth guest of the Biggerson's restaurant family!" All it took was for Sam to ask for a table for three for luck to appear yet again——as Dean had bought lottery tickets for Sam to scratch off to see if the rabbit foot was luck and they were now up to 15,000 dollars with the luck seemingly never-ending. A large sign that promised free food for a year was crammed into their hands, multiple Biggerson employees exclaiming with joy as they cheered and shouted their congratulations to the three. One girl pulled out a camera and Birdie and Dean quickly flashed their brightest smiles to the camera just as the camera clicked, confetti and tinsel being thrown from behind. Sam didn't smile, though.

He still didn't feel so sure about the foot.

It hadn't helped that Bobby was beyond pissed when he found out Sam had touched it. Apparently, the foot hadn't been made to give luck to those who touched it, but to bring death. Everyone who ever lost it died at least a week later, and that meant that Sam wouldn't be able to let the foot out of his sight until they found a way to destroy it——if there even was one.

But, they did finally get a table and Sam immediately dived into his computer to do some research on the foot while Birdie sat beside him to check out what he was finding while she munched on a large plate of fries, occasionally allowing the brothers to take some. Dean was across from them and digging into a sundae he'd been brought not even five minutes ago; he was very much enjoying the free food.

"Bobby's right. This lore goes way back," Sam eventually sighed, lifting his hand to close his laptop. "Pure hoodoo. You can't just cut one off any rabbit. It has to be in a cemetery under a full moon on a Friday the 13th."

"Very original," Birdie hummed, biting into a fry.

Dean set his bowl down, still munching on his ice cream. "I think from now on, we only go to places with Biggerson's," he said. Moments later, he groaned and pushed his hand into his forehead.

Birdie and Sam snickered, shaking their heads at the man.

A waitress with short black hair appeared a few moments later, carrying a pot of hot coffee. "Can I freshen you up?"

"Yeah. Yeah, sure," Sam nodded. He slid his cup over to her, softly smiling. "Thanks." But, she got some on the side after she and Sam had made eye contact, catching Birdie and Dean's attention. "Oh, no, don't worry. That's okay. That's-I got it."

The waitress picked up the cup and placed a rag on the table to wipe up the mess. "It's no trouble, really," she said. "Sorry about that."

"It's all right," Sam said, voice softer.

Birdie sharply narrowed her eyes, glancing towards Dean. She subtly nodded her head towards the woman and Dean smugly nodded——the waitress was definitely hitting on Sam.

And, with one last smile directed at the younger Winchester, she walked away without another word. Birdie faintly shook her head, but then she noticed that both Winchesters eyeing the waitress, leaning forwards on the table when she peered over her shoulder to see they were both checking her out. Birdie scowled, smacking her fist down on the table, causing them, and a few others seated at nearby tables, to jump in surprise.

"Can we focus, please?" She gritted out, shooting them both glares.

Dean simply rolled his eyes. "Relax, Bird," he said, giving Sam a smile. "Dude, if you were ever gonna get lucky. . ."

"Chill out," Sam replied.

Birdie sighed in relief, giving Sam a smile when turned his head towards her. "I'm glad one of you has self-control."

"Thanks," he chuckled, going to pick up his coffee. However, it fell from his fingers, the hot liquid spilling onto the table and directly towards his lap. Birdie made a face, scooting away from him to make sure none spilled onto her, too——she was already injured enough as it was. "Oh jeez! Uh. . ."

Birdie watched in shock as he stood up, but a waiter was walking right by with a tray of food in hand. "Sam!" Birdie cried out to try and warn him, but it was already too late.

Sam and the waiter collided with one another, the waiter falling to the ground along with the tray and the food.

"Sorry," Sam breathlessly apologized, heart racing. He turned towards Birdie and Dean with his lips parted a few seconds later, similar expressions on their faces.

"How was that good?" Dean wondered with bewilderment.

Sam let out a shaky breath and reached into his pocket where he'd put the foot.

There was nothing.

Birdie's eyes instantly darkened.

"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered.

They quickly stood up from the table, tossing some money on the table before going to find their supposed waitress.

Birdie grabbed Sam's hand without a second thought and dragged him along behind her, hoping that keeping a grip on him would lessen his change of luck as they hurried out of the bustling restaurant. It wouldn't have been the first time they held hands; Birdie used to grab his hand when they were younger, sometimes just for reassurance while other times it was when they had to act like a couple when working a case together——and yes, there were times she did it with Dean, but more often with Sam. She still did it at times, and neither of the brothers put any thought into it, or too much depending on the circumstances.

So, the three rushed outside, glancing around to see if they saw the dark-haired woman, but she was nowhere to be found. "Come on," Dean urged, hurrying towards the Impala.

Birdie kept her grip on Sam's hand and jogged behind Dean.

Sadly, when Sam tripped over his own two feet, Birdie was taken down with him. She yelped and Dean halted, momentarily pausing just as he'd reached the car. Then he turned around, seeing Birdie chuckling despite her taking a fall too and the pain that shot through her entire torso.

"Why are you laughing? You fell too," Sam painfully groaned.

"Yeah, but you should see your face," she snickered, pushing herself back up with a sour purse of her lips.
"Wow, you suck," Dean said in disbelief. Sam just grunted as Dean came over and helped him back up. Birdie brushed her hands off on her jacket, letting out a sigh as she faced the brothers, brows furrowed together. "So, what, now your luck turns bad?"

Birdie glanced to Sam's knees, doing a double-take when she saw there were holes torn into his jeans and his knees were now bloody from the fall.

Sam panted, sighing. "I guess," he replied.

Dean turned away, his thoughts suddenly turning dark while Sam wiped his hands off. "I wonder how bad."

Birdie watched him for a few moments, turning her head to face Sam. "Don't worry," she said, lightly patting his arm. "We'll take care of ya."

"That's very reassuring. Thanks, Bird," Sam replied, sarcasm laced within his words.

Birdie scoffed, placing her hands on her hips. "Keep that attitude and I'll be the one to trip you next time." Sam stammered, face falling as he watched Birdie head towards the Impala. She headed towards the passenger side, pointing a stern finger at Sam. "And I call shotgun!"

⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅

Birdie wasn't fond of going back to the apartment complex where both of the thieves had been, but if they wanted to get more information on the woman who'd paid them to steal the box in the first place, then they had no other choice.

Part of Birdie felt bad as they headed towards the apartment, having been informed by a neighbor on the first floor that the man with the buzzcut had been found dead in the kitchen in a rather messed up way.

They cautiously entered the apartment, finding the thief who'd grabbed Birdie by the hair sitting in a tattered chair and pouring himself a drink while sad music played from a radio in the far corner.

His face instantly fell at the sight of the three individuals. "Oh man," he groaned, "What do you want?"

Dean led the way again, a gun in his hand but at his side just as a precaution. "Heard about your friend. It's bad luck."

They shuffled a little closer, Birdie carefully eyeing Sam to make sure nothing was about to happen to him.
"Piss off," the guy sneered.

"We know someone hired you to steal the rabbit's foot——a woman."

The guy smugly tilted his head. "Yeah? How do you know that?"

"Because the bitch just stole it back from us," Birdie answered, folding her arms over her chest.

A smile started to work its way onto the man's face, laughing at their misfortune.

"Listen man," Sam started to say, stepping forward. Sadly, his foot snagged on a wire and a toaster was falling off the shelf behind him. He turned around to try and catch it, but he bumped into a stand-up lamp, falling forward with the toaster slipping from his grasp. The lamp fell beside him, the bulb shattering across the wooden floor while Sam's body made a loud thudding sound.

Birdie heavily sighed before bending down to help him back up.

"Sam, you okay?" Dean asked, momentarily closing his eyes.

"Yeah, I'm good," he painfully replied.

Birdie snickered and grabbed his arm, pulling him up. He shifted his legs and stood up, briefly nodding to Birdie as a thank you.

"I want you to tell us her name."

"Screw you."

"It wasn't a freak accident that killed your partner."

"What?"

Birdie lightly nudged Sam, making him look at her. "You sure you're okay?"

Sam faintly nodded. "Yeah."

"It was the rabbit's foot," Dean said.

Sam moved a few steps over, but Birdie grabbed his arm to prevent him from doing anything else. "Can you just stand still please?"

"You're fucking crazy, man," the guy said with amusement plastered on his smug face. He didn't believe a word of what Dean was saying.

Dean pursed his lips together. "You know I'm not. You saw what happened, what it did——all the flukes, all the luck. When you lose the foot, that luck goes sour. That's what killed your friend." The man stared back at Dean, almost appearing like he was starting to believe the oldest Winchester. "And my brother here is next. And who knows how many more innocent people after that. Now, if you don't help us stop this thing, then that puts those deaths on your head." That seemed to convince him as his expression faltered. "Now, I can read people. . .and I get it. You're a thief and a scumbag. That's fine. But you're not a killer. . .are you?"

With the man convinced and not wanting any lives to be lost because of him, he gave them the name.

Once they did, they urgently left the apartment and headed out of the building, both Birdie and Dean constantly checking on Sam so he didn't trip and break his neck somehow.

Dean's phone started to ring as they exited the building, answering it as they walked towards the impala. Birdie assumed it was Bobby.

"Hello?"

Birdie trailed behind Sam, brows raising when she heard a squishing sound when he stepped onto the pavement of the road. Birdie stepped beside him, seeing him clench his jaw before he lifted his foot to see there was gum stuck on the bottom of his shoe. Birdie snorted out a short laugh, receiving a sharp glare from Sam. "I'm sorry," she sincerely apologized, walking beside him as he took a few steps aside to try and scrape the gum off his shoe.

"This hot chick stole it from him. I'm serious. In her mid-20's, and she was sharp, you know?" Dean continued to speak.

Birdie let out a sigh, rolling her eyes at the way Dean was describing the woman. It didn't matter how attractive she was——Sam's life was now on the line because of her. However, that didn't seem to be enough to stop Birdie from giggling at the boy's failed attempts to scrape the gum from his shoe by using a storm drain that was off to the side.

"She only gave the guys she hired a name——probably an alias or something," he said, turning to Birdie and Sam to check what the name was. "Luigi or something."

"Lugosi," Sam and Birdie replied in unison.

"Bela Lugosi? That's cute," Dean sarcastically said into the phone.

Birdie tilted her head and returned her gaze to Sam. Her lips parted when she saw his shoe fall straight into the grate. "You gotta be fucking kidding me," she gasped.

Sam sighed and crouched down, trying to see if he'd be able to reach it. Birdie poked around at her pockets, feeling relief when she felt her flashlight in one of the inside pockets. She fished it out and moved to stand near the grate, shining the light in it for Sam to see if he could spot it inside. "Thanks, Bird," he softly said.

"It's the least I could do," she said, shooting him a sincere smile.

"She knew about the rabbit's foot. Is she a hunter?"

"I don't think you're gonna get it back. Besides, do you really wanna stick your hand in there?" Sam puffed out his cheeks and stood back up, a worn expression on his features. "Hey, once we fix this mess, I promise I'll buy you a new pair."

"Thanks, but that's not necessary," he said.

Birdie tucked her hands into the pockets of her jacket after pocketing her flashlight, turning her head towards Dean just as he hung up the phone. Dean faced the other two, noticing the rather glum expression on Sam's face. "What?"

"I lost my shoe."

Birdie frowned, her heart aching just a little by the look on Sam's face.

They needed to get the rabbit's foot back, or destroy it, and soon.

With that, they left, heading to a nearby motel where, apparently, Sam and Birdie would be staying while Dean went to find Bela Talbot——the name the mystery woman typically went by.

"Oh, so you won't bring him because you don't want him to get us all killed, but you'll leave me with him?" Birdie bitterly demanded, entering the motel room with the Winchesters right behind her.

"Hey, this is a case now," Dean firmly said, shutting the door behind him. "You're still hurt and I don't need that plus Sam's bad luck makin' things worse."

Birdie rolled her eyes and flopped down on one of the beds.

"What are we even supposed to do, Dean?" Sam questioned his brother, leaning against the wall.

A small smirk appeared on Dean's lips, his eyes flicking to Birdie. Birdie simply raised her middle finger at him.

"I'm kidding!" Dean chuckled, slightly raising his hands in surrender. Then he grabbed a hold of Sam's arm, pulling him further into the motel. "Sam, you don't do anything. Now, come here. I don't want you doing anything." He grabbed a chair from the kitchen table, pulling it out. "I want you to sit right here and don't move, okay? Anything that needs to be done, Bird'll do it, alright?"

"So now I'm his handmaid?" Birdie snipped out.

Dean huffed, glaring at the younger woman. "Until I get back, yes."

Birdie rolled her eyes and laid back on the bed, tiredly rubbing at her face.

"Sam, I'm serious. Don't turn on the light. Don't turn off the light," Dean continued, backing towards the door and pointing his finger at Sam. "Don't even scratch your nose——have Birdie do it. I'll be back before you even know it."

"Good luck, Dean!" Birdie called out.

"Yeah yeah," he muttered, stealing a glance over his shoulder to look towards Birdie who had her head lifted. "Take care of Sammy."

"I will," she assured him with a cheesy grin.

Dean quickly exited the motel and locked the door behind him, leaving just Birdie and Sam. It was silent in the room, causing Birdie to look towards the older man who looked as if he was in deep thought. She lazily sat up on her elbows, raising a brow. "Need me to itch your nose for you?" she teased.

Sam twisted his lips, glaring at her. "No," he said, lifting his hand and scratching his nose himself.

Birdie giggled, playfully rolling her eyes. "Are you really gonna sit there all night?"

Sam huffed, adjusting his posture. "I don't want to. . .but I'm already here, and so far, so good."

"Let's keep it that way then," Birdie said, corners of her lips tweaked upwards.

"Why don't you try getting some sleep? I'm not gonna be able to get any."

"And leave you to mope all by yourself? I don't think so."

"It's fine, really," Sam lightly laughed, slouching in the chair with his arms folded over his chest. "You're supposed to be taking it easy, remember?"

Birdie rolled her eyes, but she couldn't deny that she wasn't tired. Perhaps it'd be okay for a few minutes. "Maybe for a few minutes," she said, snatching one of the pillows from the top of the bed. She got seated on top of the blanket, placing the pillow under her head as she got comfortable in the middle of the bed, facing up at the ceiling. Then she turned her head to the side, offering Sam a lopsided smile. "If you need anything, wake me up, and I mean it. Okay?"

"I will," he said. "Sleep tight."

Birdie was having a rather pleasant dream when she was startled by the sound of something whooshing around. Her eyes instantly snapped open, quickly sitting up and turning to the chair where Sam was meant to remain until Dean returned. He wasn't there. She turned her to the other side, lips falling open as Sam used the blanket from the other bed to try and put out the fire that had started in the AC unit just below the window. He stopped after a few moments, light smoke flowing from the unit as it made a faint rattling sound.

He stole a glance towards Birdie, eyes slightly widening when seeing she was awake. "You got up, didn't you?" she asked with a blank expression. Sam went to respond, but then his jacket sleeve suddenly caught on fire.

"SAM!" she fearfully shrieked, lurching from the bed.

Sam frantically moved aside, shaking his opposite arm out towards her to prevent her from getting close. "No! Stay back!" he grunted, grabbing the curtains and frantically patting his sleeve to try and do it himself so Birdie didn't accidentally get hurt because of him.

Birdie went to move forward to still help, but she yelped when the curtain rod fell from the wall, hitting Sam on the head and knocking him out cold. "Fuck me," Birdie muttered in disbelief, quickly kneeling beside him to check on him. She put her hand on his neck, letting out a breath of relief when she felt a pulse; she didn't think he was dead, but she wanted to make sure. Then she shoved the singed curtain away from him, thankful that the fire had been put out at least. She leaned over him, lightly smacking his cheek. "Sam, get up," she said, concern written on her features when he remained unconscious. "Sam, hey, wake up! C'mon, don't do this to me now!"

"Isn't this something, Creedy?"

Birdie sharply turned her head towards the door, face falling when she saw two middle-aged men standing in the doorway. The blond, creepier one had a gun aimed at her, a smug smirk tugged on his thin lips.

"Who the hell are you?" Birdie hastily demanded to know, slowly standing up with a glower on her face.

"We're just here for him," the man said, nudging his head towards the unconscious Winchester.

"I'm only gonna tell you two this once," she cautioned, reaching for the knife she had stashed in the back pocket of her jeans, "get the hell out of here while you still can."

"We're not going anywhere."

The guy cocked the gun to make her halt her movements, shaking his head as the other one, Creedy or whatever, shifted with a stern expression on his face. Birdie gritted her teeth, slowly holding her hands up. "We don't wanna hurt you, doll, but we will."

Birdie narrowed her eyes and carefully stepped over Sam, a mischievous twinkle igniting in her eyes. She was now within reaching distance of the men which meant she could put up a fight; if they'd actually seen her as a threat, they would've already shot her——that was their mistake for not taking the shot sooner. "Well, you'll have to get through me to get to him."

Not wanting to give him a moment to strike first, she lunged forward and whacked the gun out of his hand with her arm. He gritted his teeth while the other man tried to grab her from the side, but she kicked him in the groin. She didn't pay attention to the agonizing groan that left his lips while he fell to his knees, or the pain that she was still in; she desperately hoped she could actually fight them off even with her injuries.

The creepy man swung at her only a second later, but Birdie didn't dodge in time and was struck across her jaw. She staggered to the side, hand going to touch her aching jaw with her brows furrowed together in anger. He went to continue, but she hatefully jammed her elbow into his nose before he could take another swing at her.

"Get her, man," the guy said as he staggered back, clutching his aching nose, blood already oozing from his nose.

Birdie went to whirl around towards the other one, but a strong arm tightly wrapped around her throat, pulling her into his chest and constricting her airway. She gasped for air, eyes helplessly flicking towards Sam. "Sam," she wheezed, feeling her mind beginning to grow fuzzy from the lack of oxygen. "No. . ."

"Now don't kill her," the one man said, moving to kneel beside Sam. He glanced aside at Birdie, tilting his head towards her as a wicked smirk started to spread across his lips. "We might need her after all."

"Fuck. . .you. . ." Birdie breathed out, her eyes finally fluttering shut.

⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅

"I swear to god, if you hurt one single hair on his head I'll fu——"

"You'll what?" the blond man sneered, who had since cleaned up his bloody nose Birdie gave him while a bruise was becoming more noticeable, the corner of his lip tweaked upwards. She'd only woken up a few minutes ago, finding herself tied to one of the kitchen chairs while both of the men sat Sam in a chair opposite of her. Despite the pain she felt searing through her body and having only been awake for a short while, she was more than ready to kick some ass——especially two old men who were in way over their heads. "You're tied to a chair."

"Not for long," she sneered, hearing Creedy finish taping Sam to a chair opposite of Birdie. She still didn't know the blond's name, but she didn't care enough to ask.

Sam started to stir, his head lifting as he finally regained consciousness after knocking himself out. He shifted, finding that he was having a hard time moving as he noticed the tape securing him to the chair. "Oh, he's awake," Creedy announced.

Birdie's eyes snapped upwards at the statement. He was clearly confused, his eyes moving from the man, to Birdie, and then the other man who stood up from where he was casually on the bed closest to Sam. "Back with us, eh?"

Sam ignored him, focusing his attention on Birdie. That's when he noticed the faint bruise along her jaw. "Did they——"

"She's fine," the blond man said.

"Fuck you," Birdie snarled. "My jaw says otherwise, prick."

Sam clenched his jaw, looking at the men with as much hatred as possible. "You know, we didn't even have to touch you. You just went all spastic and knocked yourself out. It was like Jerry Lewis trying to stack chairs. Dollface, over there put up a good fight, though——it just wasn't good enough."

"Who are you? What do you——"

The blond man snapped his finger at Sam as Creedy moved behind him, causing Sam to close his mouth. Birdie made a face, trying to crane her neck to see Sam around the man. "I used to think your friend Gordon sent me. . ."

"Gordon," Sam groaned while Birdie had a similar reaction when hearing the all too familiar name. She'd never had the luxury of meeting the hunter named Gordon, but she hated him; attempting to murder one of Birdie's best friends tended to make her feel that way towards monsters and people, but thankfully, Gordon was locked away in prison and wasn't going to be out anytime soon. "Oh, come on——"

"Because he asked me to track you down and put a bullet in your brain." The man continued to drone on, taking a few steps towards the window while Birdie narrowed her eyes at him.

"Great. That sounds like him," Sam muttered.

Then the man turned as he started to speak again. "But as it turns out. . .I'm on a mission from God." Birdie lowly grunted, clenching her eyes shut. Then he swung his arm, smacking Sam across the face.

"What did I just tell you?!" Birdie furiously demanded, struggling against the tape with more determination. "Are you really this fucking nuts? To think you're actually on a mission from God? I think God would pick someone a little more mentally stable if he even had——"

The man hastily stormed over, smacking Birdie just as he'd done so with Sam only moments ago. "I told you to keep quiet," he snarled, pointing a finger at her.

"Leave her out of this," Sam snapped, anger rising in his chest. "She has nothing to do with this."

"Hey, we're trying, but she's making it rather difficult," Creedy shortly replied, sparing a cold glance towards Birdie. "Your girlfriends got a mouth on her."

"She's not my——"

"You bet your ass I do!" Birdie heatedly interjected, causing Sam to questionably glance towards her for not correcting them. She also didn't see any point as they weren't going to believe her, or Sam, no matter what they said, so, there was no reason. "Just wait until I get out of this chair and I'll——"

Rather than hitting her like he wanted to, the man decided to hit Sam as he knew it would get to her. "Are you finished, doll?" he questioned her, keeping his hand raised like he was going to continue if she didn't close her mouth as he'd told her. Birdie tightly smacked her lips shut at the threat, gritting her teeth together as she sucked in a deep breath. "Good."

She couldn't help but yell as he hit and smacked Sam a few more times, only fueling Birdies growing hatred towards him and his friend. She hated seeing Sam being beaten while she was stuck to a lousy chair, unable to protect him like she'd told Dean she would.

"Please, stop!" Birdie desperately begged, staring at Sam's bruised cheek with a prominent frown. He had a bloody nose, his energy completely low from all of the things that had been thrown at him that day. He looked as if he was about to pass out any second, but Creedy splashed water on his face to keep him awake.

Sam shook his head as water dripped down his face, a heavy breath escaping his mouth.

"You were part of that demon plan to open the gate, weren't you?" the blond man queried, getting up from the bed again.

"We did everything we could to stop it," Sam explained.

The man pointed his finger at Sam again. "Lie, lie, lie! You were in on it. You know what their next move is, too, don't you?"

"No, I don't, okay? And you're wrong about all of this," Sam truthfully answered.

The guy still didn't believe him. "Where are they gonna hit us next?" Sam just heavily sighed. That enraged the man and he swung his hand back and smacked Sam once again. "Where?!"

Sam hissed in pain, but he didn't respond.

He couldn't when he didn't have the answers the man wanted.

"Did you not hear him? He said he doesn't know, jackass!" Birdie shouted, her protectiveness coming out even stronger than before.

"No, he does," the man replied, not sparing Birdie a glance. His attention remained on Sam. "Gordon told me about you, Sam. About your powers. You're some kind of weirdo, psychic freak."

"He is not a freak, mo—!" the man stormed over and struck Birdie across the face. She winced in pain, but she'd continue to agitate them if it meant they'd hurt her instead of Sam. But, he'd had enough and he reached over to the roll of tape that was tossed on the bed.

"No, I'm not anymore," Sam said, trying to get the focus back on him. "No, you don't need to——"

The man went to put the tape over her mouth, but twisted her head and harshly bit him on the hand. "Bitch!" he snarled, hitting her again.

"Don't hurt her!" Sam helplessly shouted, wiggling in the chair. "Please!"

This time, the man took the few seconds of the pain registering in Birdie's mind to place the tape on her mouth. She struggled again, but it was there to stay. He returned to Sam, eyes darkened.

"I have no powers, no visions——nothing. It just——" Another punch.

"Lie!" He bent down, getting close to Sam's face. Sam let out a heavy breath as the man continued. "Now, no more lies. There's an army of demons out there, pushing at a world already on the brink. We're on deck for the end game here, right? So maybe, just maybe, you can understand why we can't take chances."

He reached behind him, pulling out a gun that had been tucked in the back of his pants while his shirt covered it so Birdie wasn't able to see it. Birdie twisted her shoulders, trying to use her nails to claw at the tape restraining her to the chair. The man continued and aimed the gun at Sam's head.

"Woah, hey. Now, hold on a minute," Sam pleaded.

The other guy reached out as if he was trying to stop his friend. "Kubrick?"

The blond one, Kubrick, shook him off. "No! You saw what happened, Creedy. Ask yourself——why are we here? Because you saw a picture on the web? Because we chose this motel instead of another? Luck like that doesn't just happen."

Birdie shared a knowing look with Sam.

"Look, I can explain all of that," Sam said.

Kubrick pointed a finger at Sam. "Shut up," he ordered. Sam puffed out his cheeks, closing his eyes. "It's God, Creedy. He led us here for one reason——to do his work. This is destiny."

He pointed the gun back at Sam's head while Birdie tried to scream through the tape as Sam clenched his eyes shut. The cocking of a gun echoed in the room, but it wasn't Kubrick's.

"No," Dean said, causing all eyes to fall on him. "No destiny. Just a rabbit's foot."

Kubrick wickedly smiled as he spoke while Creedy held his hands up, Sams neck was now craned so the gun wasn't pointing at him anymore. "Put the gun down, son. Or you're gonna be scraping brain off the wall."

"Oh, this thing?" Dean smugly asked, moving his gun.

"Yeah, that thing."

"Okay," Dean complied, setting it down on the end table beside him. Birdie carefully watched him, hoping he'd gotten the foot, or already destroyed it. "But, you see, there's something about me that you don't know."

He picked up a pen on the table beside him as Kubrick fully faced Dean, the gun now trained on him. "Yeah? What would that be?"

"It's my lucky day."

Dean tossed the pen at the gun, lodging itself in the barrel. Sam and Birdie's brows raised in surprise. Dean chuckled, getting rather excited about his impossible accomplishment. "Oh, my god! Did you see that shot?!"

Creedy went to punch Dean, but Dean simply moved aside and the man roughly collided with the wall behind, knocking him out.

Kubrick watched in shock, trying to pull the pen from the gun as Dean smugly smiled. "I'm amazing," he said. A moment later, he grabbed the TV remote and threw it.

It smacked Kubrick right in the forehead, knocking him to the ground, unconscious.

Dean kept his arm held out, eyes bright with adrenaline. "I'm Batman," he said with his voice deepened.

Sam made a face. "Yeah, you're Batman," he sarcastically replied.

Birdie made a sound from behind the tape that was still placed over her mouth, causing Dean to finally look at her. She made her eyes widen, moving to show that she was still tied up.

"Right," he beamed, hurrying over to her with his smile never deterring. "Can't forget the damsel in distress."

At a nearby graveyard, the trio were ready to burn the foot as they had all the right ingredients gathered after leaving Creedy and Kubrick unconscious in the motel room——each with even more bruises than before courtesy of Birdie. They managed to find the first aid in the Impala once they made their escape and had cleaned up their wounds as they'd made their way towards the graveyard, Dean filling Sam and Birdie in on what they'd missed with his encounter with Bela.

Dean still kept a tight hold on the foot, having fought more lottery tickets and was scratching away at them before he tossed to foot in the fire.

"Hey, back off, Jinx," Dean said when Sam tried getting him to give it up. "I'm bringing home the bacon."

Birdie rolled her eyes, shifting her feet as she stood beside Sam, but a small smile was etched on her lips. Sams expression was similar to hers, bright eyes glancing around the still of the night. Dean moved towards his jacket that was tossed on a tombstone closeby, stuffing the tickets into one of the pockets for safekeeping.

"All right," he announced after a few moments, holding up the foot as he returned to Birdie and Sam. "Say goodbye to wascawy wabbit."

"I can't wait for that thing to be gone," Birdie said with a shudder.

Dean moved to drop it, however, a gun cocked from behind him. All eyes snapped to the sound, spotting Bela Talbot. A smug smirk was evident on her glossy lips as she pointed the gun at the trio——Dean specifically.

"I think you'll find that belongs to me," she said, now having a British accent unlike when she'd been at the restaurant. Their faces instantly hardened towards her. "Or, you know. . .whatever. Put the foot down, honey."

"No," Dean firmly denied. He moved, a little smirk appearing on his lips. "You're not gonna shoot anybody. See, I happen to be able to read people. Okay, you're a thief. Fine. But you're not——"

Birdie closely watched the conniving woman, eyes suspiciously narrowed. She wasn't so sure about what Dean was starting to say——something just felt off about Bela and that didn't settle well with Birdie.

And, she was proven right when the woman moved her gun from Dean and directly towards Sam.

Bela fired without hesitation, but instead of hitting her intended target, she shot Birdie in the shoulder after she'd forcefully shoved Sam out of the way——he'd already had a rough day as it was; he didn't deserve to get shot after all of that.

She started to fall at the force of the shot, but Sam moved once he'd caught his footing and quickly caught her in his arms, sharing a wide-eyed look with Dean.

Dean's lips were parted in shock, his face hardening in anger. "Motherf——"

He took a step forward, but the gun was trained on him yet again. Bela harshly glared, teeth clenched together. "Back off, tiger. Back off. You make one more move, and I'll pull the trigger."

Dean let out a heavy breath. Sam shifted, looking down towards Birdie as she leaned into him with a distressed look obvious on her face. Birdie was heavily breathing, the pain of the shot only increasing and increasing. 'I know who's number two on my hit list,' Birdie bitterly thought to herself, her free hand gripping Sam's as he had one hand on the wound to keep pressure and the other wrapped around her waist to keep her upright against him in a protective manner.

"You've got the luck, Dean. You I can't hit," Bela said, aiming the gun at Sam again——she'd make sure she got him the next time. "But your brother, and his girlfriend——them I can't miss."

Dean peered back at Sam and Birdie——Birdie nor Sam were in the mood to correct her. Birdie just resentfully glared at Bela. "You're a fucking bitch."

"I know," Bela replied with a smug grin.

Dean whirled around in exasperation. "The fuck is wrong with you?! You just don't go around shooting people like that!"

"Relax. It's a shoulder hit," she said so nonchalantly that it made Birdie's blood boil. "I can aim."

"And so can I——" Birdie said through a pant, going to move towards the woman while her hand went to the gun on her hip, but Sam tightened his grip on her to keep her close; and, if Bela did shoot at them again, he'd quickly be able to turn them around to prevent her from getting shot again.

"Besides, who here hasn't shot a few people?" No one responded, but it was obvious that they all had. "Put the rabbit's foot on the ground now."

"Alright!" Dean shouted in compliance. "Alright. Take it easy." Dean started to bend down, but as he got near the ground, he tossed the foot towards Bela. "Think fast."

She gasped and caught it, her bare fingers touching the cursed foot.

Dean stood back up with a proud smirk. Bela closed her eyes in frustration. "Damn," she grumbled, shooting Dean a nasty glare.

"Now, what do you say we destroy that ugly-ass piece of dead thing?"

Bela didn't have much of a choice if she didn't want to die anytime soon.

So, she complied, reluctantly dropping the foot into the fire with a pissed-off expression. "Thanks very much." Birdie was now standing between the brothers, holding a torn piece of cloth to her wounded shoulder with her arm slightly brushed up against Sam's. "I'm out $1.5 million and on the bad side of a very powerful, fairly psychotic buyer."

"Wow," Dean breathed out, "I really don't feel bad about that. Sam? Bird?"

"No," Sam replied, a small, smug smile appearing on his lips as his eyes flickered towards Bela. "Not even a little."

"That's actually the best thing I've heard all day," Birdie said with a genuine smile.

Bela peered down at the fire, silently turning away. She stopped by a tombstone, casually resting her arms on it. "Maybe next time, I'll hang you out to dry."

Birdie simply smiled and gave the woman the middle finger with her free hand, causing the brothers to snicker.

"Don't go away angry," Dean shortly told her, sidedly staring at Bela. "Just go away."

"Have a nice night," she said, finally walking away.

They watched her walk away, Birdies wince making the Winchesters stop to look at her. "This fucking hurts," she breathed out.

"Sammy'll fix you right up, don't you worry," Dean said, shooting her a toothy smile.

Birdie lightly chuckled, the three of them beginning to make their way back to the car. "Better him than you."

"Hey," he huffed, an offended expression on his face. Sam shook his head, adjusting his grip on the shovel he was carrying after having to dig up a few things in order to properly get rid of the foot. Dean let out a sigh, the parked impala finally starting to come into view. "I guess we're back to normal now, huh? No good luck. No bad luck."

"Didn't you guys break a whole store full of mirrors not too long ago?" Birdie reminded them.

"That doesn't count," Dean dismissively said.

Birdie made a face, but she decided not to comment. She didn't always believe in myths, but she also made sure to never break any mirrors to avoid getting any more bad luck than she already had due to her lifestyle.

"Oh, I forgot," Dean suddenly said, reaching into the pocket of his jacket as he stopped a few feet away from the Impala. "We're at $46,000. I forgot about the. . ." his smile started to fall as he struggled to find the tickets he knew he put in his pocket. ". . .scratch tickets."

Sam tilted his head, the sound of a lame car horn reaching their ears. They slowly looked at each other before turning towards the silver car speeding away.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean shouted, Sam trying to stifle a laugh.

Birdie tiredly shook her head, puffing out her cheeks.

Maybe breaking those mirrors did count.

⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅

Okay, this took a little longer to post than I would've liked, but I finally finished up the rough draft of chapter three, so now I can post this one :)

I know this was pretty long, too, but I think a lot of them are going to be (especially if I follow the episodes as much as I did with this one, though, I did cut out some parts still), and I hope y'all won't mind! They'll jump around quite a bit, too, like they do in the show, but I might skip over certain scenes and just summarize them in the next paragraph!

Also, I did skip over the Sin City episode, but I tried my best to summarize it without droning on and on. It was a chance for Birdie to meet Ruby, but I'm saving that encounter for a little bit later! 🥰 And y'all will also get to see how Birdie is with Bobby very soon + some of my other additional characters i included in the intro!

But anyways, please don't forget to leave your feedback in the comments and I hope y'all enjoyed!