⌜ chapter six ⌟

Isla's looking at herself in the mirror, once again taking in all of the bruises and scabbed-over cuts she received from the shifter, as well as the knot on the left side of her forehead. She shakes her head as she looks down, not wanting to see her reflection anymore. She can't get what the shifter said about her being weak and pathetic out of her head, and it's driving her crazy.

A knock at the door makes her jump, and she turns wearily, but the voice that follows puts her at ease. "Isla, it's me!" Sam calls from outside. "Open up, I gotta talk to you."

The blonde takes a deep breath before turning and walking out of the small bathroom in her motel, the light there being the only one that's currently on. It's late, and Minx has been asleep for about an hour — thankfully.

She opens the door and finds Sam standing alone just outside. Somehow, he looks even more tired than she feels. No, not tired... Drained. He looks completely drained. His face is pale and his shoulders are slumped forward; he isn't standing at his full height.

"Sam?" Her eyebrows furrow as she meets his green-brown eyes.

"Dean's in the hospital." He tells her, and her stomach sinks. "I've been there all day. I tried to call you, but you didn't answer. I figured you were asleep."

"Uh, yeah. M-Mostly." She nods. "What..."

"We were hunting a rawhead, and Dean got electrocuted while he was standing in water." He says, and she can see the tears welling up in his eyes.

Isla ignores the pain in her right arm and shoulder as she reaches up and wraps it around his neck, pulling him into a hug. The younger boy leans down, his arms snaking carefully around her waist as he buries his face in the crook of her neck. He chokes back his tears as she rubs his back with her other hand, trying to bring him as much comfort as possible, though knowing it's not nearly enough.

They spend the next three days scouring the internet, reading through every book they can get their hands on, and calling every contact in John's journal. The pair is determined to find a way to save Dean, though their options are looking pretty slim — one lead.

"This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son Dean — (866)907-3235. He can help."

"Damn it, John, answer the phone." Isla sighs as she leans her head into her hand. "We need your help. Dean's dying, I'm beat to hell, and Sam's gonna fall into a coma if he doesn't get some sleep soon. But if you're listening to this message, you've listened to all the others that I've left you. Call one of us back, will you?"

It's after dark when the blonde leaves her own room and walks over to Sam's — technically it was the boys', but Dean's been in the hospital for days now. She pulls the sleeves of her hoodie over her hands, trying to hide them from the cold air outside, and then she knocks on Sam's door. It takes longer than she was expecting, but then the door opens.

Dean's eyes widen when Isla looks up at him; this is the first time he's gotten a good look at her since the night that she was attacked by the shifter. He didn't go to the hospital with her and Sam, instead staying back to try and deal with the police. And he's kept his distance ever since, not knowing what to say to her. Sorry didn't feel good enough, it certainly doesn't get across even half of the guilt that he feels for what she went through that night.

Seeing her now is like a blow to the abdomen, knocking the wind from his lungs.

The knot in her forehead is probably the least evident of her visible injuries, or at least the last one that'll draw your attention. The first thing Dean noticed is the blood-red color in what's supposed to be the white of her right eye, caused by the blood vessel that burst. Then the purplish bruise surrounding the scab over her lower lip on the left side of her face, followed by all of the smaller scabs from the slowly healing cuts on her face.

"Damn, Winchester." Her low voice pulls him from his thoughts, and his green eyes meet her hazel ones. "Are you trying to look worse than I do?" She asks, looking at his pale skin and red-rimmed eyes.

"H-How are you?" He asks.

"I'll be better if you let me out of the cold." She tells him, and his eyes widen momentarily before he steps out of the doorway, giving her room to walk inside. "I didn't know you were being released from the hospital today." She says as she sits on the foot of the bed nearest the door.

"Yeah, uh... I checked myself out." He tells her, and she nods.

"Sorry I didn't come see you. I've been doing research and making calls. Still impossible to get your dad on the line, in case you were wonderin'."

"Yeah, that figures." Dean nods as he sits down at the table a few feet away from her. "You didn't answer my question — not really."

She offers him a half smile. "I'm alright. A little sore, but I'll heal." She tells him, but he knows that she's downplaying it. He can see for himself how bad she is. "You haven't been around. I never got to thank you for putting a bullet in the bastard."

"I should've gotten there sooner." He shakes his head as he looks down.

"Dean, you guys were tied up in the sewer." She argues. "You did the best you could."

"That's not good enough. You almost died." He says as he looks back at her. "That son of a bitch almost killed you, and he used my face to gain your trust."

"S'alright. Minx ratted him out in sixty seconds." She tells him. "I knew it wasn't you with plenty of time. I was the one who wasn't strong enough to protect me. You did your job exactly like you were supposed to."

"Minx?" His eyebrows furrow, and she lets out a rough chuckle.

"She knows her human, and he wasn't you." Isla says. "He tried to pet her, and she started hissing at him. First time I ever heard her make that noise... She's been miserable without you, you know? I have to wear your jacket just to get her to calm down."

It's only then that he realizes she's wearing his navy-blue utility jacket over her gray hoodie, and then he sees that the pocket's puffed out a bit. The kitten takes up more room than she did the first time he put her in there, but she still fits. For now, anyway.

The door opens then, and Sam walks in, earning Isla's attention. She turns her head and looks up at him, but winces a bit. Dean notices, as he's still watching her, and that's when he sees the dark purple poking out from under her sweater. His jaw tightens as he looks away from her, and another wave of guilt washes over him. It's not hard to guess what caused the discoloration over her pale skin, and he's certain that if he placed his hand over the bruise, it'd be a perfect fit.

"Do you have any idea how bad for you this crap is?" Sam questions as he walks over to the counter with the bags of stuff that he bought at the store. "The amount of sodium that you—"

"Thank you, mother-hen." Isla cuts him off as she stands to walk over to him. "But it's something hot to eat, and noodles are easy to swallow."

Dean grinds his teeth as he realizes why she's been talking so low, and why her voice sounds unusually rough. She has even more injuries than are visible to the eye, and he hates it more than anything. He's convinced himself that he's supposed to protect her, and he failed.

—

After leaving a recently fed Minx in Isla's motel room, the three hunters get into the Impala, and head over to see the man that John's friend told Sam about. The youngest is driving, and Dean's immediately annoyed when he sees the large, white tent that they're approaching.

Sam parks the car and then quickly rounds the front of the Impala to get to his brother. Dean's looking at the sign outside the tent's entrance that reads:

The Church Of
Roy Le Grange
Faith Healer
Sunday's 11am & 2pm
Witness The Miracle

"I got it." The older boy pushes his brother back a step, clearly irritated when Sam tries to help him stand up straight as he exits the car. "Man, you're a lying bastard. I thought you said we were going to see a doctor."

"I believe I said a specialist." He corrects.

"You knew about this?" He questions as he looks at Isla, and the little blonde simply shrugs as they start walking in the direction of the tent.

"Look, Dean, this guy's supposed to be the real deal."

"I can't believe you brought me to see some guy who heals people out of a tent." Dean continues in his complaints.

"Reverend Le Grange is a great man." A woman says as she walks past them, holding a black umbrella over her head.

"Yeah, that's nice."

Sam sees Isla struggling to raise her hand high enough to pull her hood over her head, so he moves to help her. The blonde starts swatting at him as her hazel eyes narrow. "Keep hovering, and I'm gonna start calling you Mom permanently. I'm not crippled." She tells him, and he holds his hands up in mock surrender. She absolutely hates being coddled.

"I have a right to protest. This man's fraud." A guy's telling a cop as the hunter's walk past them. "He's bilking all of these people out of their hard-earned money."

"Sir, this is a place of worship. Let's go, move it." The officer ushers him away from the crowd.

"I take it he's not part of the flock." Dean says as he walks beside Isla toward the tent.

"Well, when people see something they can't explain, there's controversy." Sam argues, keeping pace with the two of them.

"It's called skepticism." Isla reasons. "And rightfully so, if you ask me."

"You don't think this is gonna work?" Dean asks as he looks down at her.

"Why the hell would God grant some random man the power to heal people of their life-threatening ailments?" She shakes her head. "I understand wanting to believe in a higher power, but a faith healer? I'll stick with traditional medicine, thank you."

"Then why did you agree to drag me to this?"

"Agree?" She quirks an eyebrow as she looks up at him. "You Winchester men have skulls so thick an anvil couldn't crack 'em. Have you ever tried reasoning with one of you?"

"I just think it's time to have a little faith." Sam continues in his arguments.

"You know what I got faith in?" His older brother questions. "Reality — knowing what's really going on."

"How can you be a skeptic, with the things we see everyday?"

"Exactly. We see them. We know they're real."

"Thank you both, for proving my point." Isla nods as she walks between them.

"If you know evil's out there, how can you not believe good's out there too?" Sam questions.

"Because I've seen what evil does to good people." Dean says as his eyes flicker to the blonde with them, and her hazel eyes move to the dirt below them as her eyebrows furrow.

"Maybe God works in mysterious ways." A woman says as she turns to face the three hunters, her voice light as she begins her point, but Dean shakes his head, not budging on his stance.

"And what mysterious way is something good supposed to come from this?" He questions as he looks back at Isla, and the smile on the other woman's face falls when she sees the injuries on the blonde between the two much larger men. "What the hell was God doing when one of the best people I've ever met was getting beaten within an inch of her life?" He shakes his head as he walks past them, heading into the tent.

"I-I..." The newcomer looks from his retreating form to Isla and Sam.

"That wasn't actually meant for you. He blames himself." The blonde tells her before entering the tent as well.

"I'm sorry." Sam offers her a small smile, then follows after the others.

"Yeah — peace, love, and trust all over." Dean mutters as Isla walks up beside him; he's looking around at the few security cameras set up in the tent.

"Look, there's a few seats still open at the front." The blonde as she nudges him forward.

"And I care, why?"

"Because I'm exerting the energy to push your ox-like body in that direction. Now, move your ass." She forces him toward the empty chairs in the second row.

"What's the matter, doll face?" He smirks as he looks at her over his shoulder, purposely making it difficult for her to push him as he leans back. "Afraid I'll die on you, and you're secretly hoping that this'll work?"

"I'm only afraid Minx will never let me sleep when your scent disappears from your jacket." She shoves him, though she's unsuccessful at making him go very far, and he chuckles as he sits in the middle seat of the three. She purses her lips as she looks at him, not amused by his antics.

Sam shakes his head and walks past his brother's knees to sit on his right side, and Dean rolls his eyes when Isla smiles smugly because she didn't have to play into his attempts at getting on her nerves any further. Her cold fingertips lightly touch her scabbed lip as she sits on Dean's left, not liking the feeling that shot through her lower lip when she smiled.

Isla then shoves her hands into her sweater pockets as she sinks into her seat, looking up onto the low stage as a woman helps an older man — who she assumes is Roy Le Grange — shrug out of his jacket. The blonde then presses her fingers against her neck in another attempt to warm them, and she looks to her right when Dean bumps her arm.

"What are you doing?" She questions as he pulls his arms from the sleeves of his jacket. "Dean, what—"

"You've been shivering since we got out of the car." He says as he tries to give her the black jacket that he was wearing. "I'm fine, just take it."

She hesitates for a second, but then another shiver runs through her, and she concedes in her brief protest. "Thanks." She says, and he nods as she takes it and places it over herself like a blanket. Her fingers curl around the top of his jacket, holding it in place, and she buries her nose in the material. She's so cold that the tip of her nose is tingling — a feeling that she's always hated with every fiber of her being.

"Each morning, my wife, Sue Ann, reads me the news." The reverend begins, and Dean tears his gaze away from the blonde beside him to look up at the older, white man with thinning hair the color of ash. "Never seems good, does it?"

"No." The crowd choruses, and Isla glances around.

"Seems like there's always someone committing some immoral, unspeakable act." He continues his speech. "But I say to you, God is watching. And God rewards the good, and he punishes the corrupt."

Again, the crowd agrees with what he's saying.

"It is the Lord...who does the healing here, friends. The Lord who guides me in choosing who to heal by helping me see into people's hearts."

"Amen!"

"Yeah, or into their wallets." Dean says quietly as he leans toward his younger brother.

"You think so, young man?" Le Grange asks, and Isla's hazel eyes widen as she looks from him to the man sitting beside her.

"Sorry."

"No, no. Don't be." He says, seemingly unfazed by Dean's comment. "Just watch what you say around a blind man. We got real sharp ears." He tells him, and everyone chuckles. "What's your name, son?"

He clears his throat, uncomfortable with the attention. "Dean."

"Dean." Reverend Le Grange nods. "I want— I want you to come up here with me." He tells him, and the others in the crowd all start clapping.

He pauses for a second before shaking his head. "No, it's okay."

"What are you doing?" Sam questions as he looks at his brother.

"Y-You've come here to be healed, haven't you?" Le Grange asks.

"Well, yeah, but, uh..." The crowd starts clapping again as he looks around. "Look, maybe you should just pick someone else."

"Dean, what the hell?" Isla whispers as she turns in her seat to face him, and he looks at her as she grabs the sleeve of the sweater that he's wearing. "You saved me. Now, quit being so damn stubborn, and save yourself."

Dean sighs as he glances at the reverend before his green eyes find her again. Reluctantly, he stands from his seat and walks up to the stage. Sue Ann takes his hand as he ascends the steps, and Sam moves into the seat beside Isla as they look up at his older brother.

"Ready?" Le Grange asks the hunter.

"Look, no disrespect, but, uh, I'm not exactly a believer." Dean tells him.

"You will be, son. You will be." He says before turning to face the crowd again. "Pray with me, friends."

Some of the people in the crowd join hands, while others simply raise their hands into the air as they watch what's happening on stage. Isla and Sam exchange an uneasy look before returning their full attention to Dean, who now has Le Grange's hand on the side of his head.

Dean's eyes fall shut as he sinks to his knees, and Sam sits up straighter in his chair as he watches his brother. He suddenly collapses onto the stage, and both of the other hunters are out of their seats in an instant to rush to his side.