Chapter 13 : Faith Healer

"Take

by

      I couldn't get Sam's voice out of my head. The desperation. The relief. The inability to accept that this may or may not be his last chance at saving his brother. It fell on me as a lead blanket would, and I tried my best to forget it, but I knew that feeling all too well.

     I debated for hours after John hung up on me. I knew there was a catch, always with him, but  I couldn't shake the feeling that I was going to hell for whatever was about to happen.

     I gripped my handlebars tightly as I made my way down the back road. I could see the large white tent in the distance, settled into the side of the field next to a beautiful two-story farmhouse. It was like a scene from a scary movie, and I smiled, knowing that there had to be something here to finally kill.

     I pulled up next to an old van. The red curtains in the windows and washed-out tire marks led me to believe they had been here for quite some time. I couldn't help but roll my eyes as I watched them all. Crawling out of their tents or stepping down from their campers, hobbling towards the service in hopes of a miracle.

     Desperation was a fickle bitch, and there was nothing worse than watching your last hope flutter away. I knew this, but I also knew that desperation made you do crazy things like camp out in someone's yards for months at a time or spend your life savings on strangers who claimed to heal all.

     I found myself walking around the grounds. My leather boots sunk deep in the mud, and I pulled my thick, black scarf up over my head and tucked the ends into my jacket. I should have let Sam pick me up like he wanted to, but after only two hours of sleep last night, I thought it best if I rode myself and cleared my head before this whole plan came tumbling down around us. 

     The man next to me smiled as I removed my leather gloves and held my bluish fingers over the burning barrel, only to pull them away as Impala's engine ripped through the campground.

     I watched from the distance as Sam rushed around the side of the car and pulled open the door for Dean. His eye caught mine, and he smiled as I leaned up against the camper they parked next to add Dean climbed out, pushing away his helping hands.

"Man, you're a lying bastard." He groaned the moment his eyes landed on the large white sign.

     I couldn't clearly see his face, but he was hunched over slightly as he stood. His thick black denim jacket fell around his frame, and he slowly slid his hands into his pockets as he continued to rip into his younger brother.

     "I thought you said we were going to see a specialist?"

     Sam sighed and tried to resist the urge to help him stand tall. "She said he was a specialist."

     "She?"

     I finally stepped forward and smiled at the two of them.  I should have told him it was a faith healer. I was sure he would do anything to save his brother, but the small details didn't really seem to be important at the time. 

     "Jesus Christ," he muttered. "What the hell are you doing here?" The look of detest on his face made this whole thing just a bit more exciting. it seemed after all that

     "Saving your life."

     His attention snapped to Sam. "You called her?"

     I can't exactly say I was surprised that he wasn't happy to see me. I did, after all, leave him in a pile of shit with his father after taking off. Though, I thought maybe the fact that he would live through this would soften the blow of my arrival. 

     "Your dad called me." I corrected after watching Sam scratch the back of his neck nervously.

     Sam's eyes widened, and Dean growled at him again. "You called Dad?"

     "What was I supposed to do, Dean? Let you die?" Sam finally shouted back at him. "I don't think so. I told you I was going to save you, and I am."

     Dean ran his fingers over his pale face and groaned. "Sam, he people out of a fricken tent."

     "Reverend La Grange is a great man," an elderly woman spoke as she walked past us. Her umbrella shielded her from the rain and the glare that Dean shot at her. He gave her a snappy retort, and I stared as we passed the town sheriff, trying to wrangle in a protester. 

     "I take it he's not part of the flock?" Dean mumbled, keeping his head low as we approached the tent. Sam gave me a pitiful look and took a deep breath before engaging his angry brother. 

     "Well, when people see something they can't explain - there's controversy."

     "But a faith healer?" He stopped in his tracks and turned towards both of us. "You guys gotta be kidding me. This is a waste of time, and you -" he pointed at me. "I don't know what you thought you were doing filling his head with this crap. You know damn well there is no way to save me."

     I twisted the gloves in my hands as Sam's hand fell on Dean's shoulder. "Maybe it's time to have a little faith, Dean." 

     He shook his head and pulled away.  "You know what I have faith in? Reality. Knowing what's really going on."

      "Well, the reality of what's going on is the fact that you're dying, Dean." I started, and before I could stop, I went for it. "I have to admit, though, I take great pleasure in the fact that I actually had to do with it."

     He glared up at me. "Well, if you would have just stayed, maybe this wouldn't have happened."

     "you're still seriously going to try and put this on me. Maybe, if you knew how to hunt properly, this wouldn't have happened." I snapped back as he took another step closer.  "You can blame me all you want, but the bottom line is you did this to yourself, and you did this to Sam. Okay. So suck it the fuck up and get in the damn tent." 

     He glared at me, and Sam took a step closer to him. "Listen bitch -"

     Sam grabbed my arm as I slid it under the back of my leather jacket and glared down at me, a threatening look on his face. I never realized just how tall he was until I stared straight up at him, my head barely reaching his chin. His jaw tensed, and I snapped my attention back to Dean as he chuckled. 

     "I told you she was a loose cannon, Sammy."

     "Keep your shit up, Dean." I threatened him. "I doubt your brother could find a way to save you from a bullet in the head."

     Sam's grip tightened on my forearm, and Dean leaned in real close, the stale whiskey on his breath. I wasn't surprised that even death couldn't keep him sober. "Keep threatening me, and even my father won't be able to find your body."

    "At least he would try to look for me." I seethed, wishing I would have just kept my phone turned off. Spending a few more hours with the deputy seemed to be far more entertaining than watching Dean die, and at least, I was getting something out of it. 

     "Will you two knock it off?" Sam pushed his hands between us and shoved us backward. "We're in public."

     Dean muttered something under his breath, and my eyes widened as I managed to make out one of the words, but Sam glared back down at me again, and I knew if I had lunged at Dean, despite my above average height - he would have no problem picking me up and chucking me into the closest car. 

      "Come on," he insisted. "It's starting."