On This Battlefield No One Wins

Reilly stood just outside the hallway, having heard Sam yelling. She'd taken out two of the demons, Gluttony and Wrath she thought, and ran to help the younger Winchester.

She stared at the blonde who had obliterated the others after him, feeling her own fresh wave of wrath. She stormed downstairs before anyone could find her and went to help Bobby drag the bodies to the door.

“Who was that bitch with the knife?” Katt asked later that night as Reilly cleaned the blood off her boots in the passenger seat of the GTO on their way to the next hunt.

She shrugged. “I dunno. Sam's girlfriend? Like I keep tabs on who he knows.” She muttered.

Katt raised an eyebrow. “You do though. With his pack of tarot and stalking him at Stanford...”

She looked up and glared. “I did not stalk him at Stanford, I went to tell him about Sammy and chickened out.”

“And ended up watching him through his window for three hours.” She finished.

Reilly scrubbed at her boots angrily. “Leave me alone, Katherine. I'm in no mood.”

She rolled her eyes at her cousin. “Fine, Reilly, but I don't like that chick either.” She pointed out.

Katt and Reilly walked into the diner where they were to meet the Winchesters, they'd just come back from their own hunt and Reilly's arm was in a sling.

“What happened to you?” Sam asked as she slid into the booth beside him.

She took his coffee and gulped it down. “None of your damn business.” She muttered.

He raised an eyebrow. “Okay.” He said warily.

Katt smirked. “She ran into the hunt guns blazing because she was pissed off and she got her arm dislocated.” She explained.

Dean cocked his head to the side and looked at her. “What were you pissed about?”

Sam looked at his brother. “Why would you ask that and not if she's okay?”

Dean opened his mouth, but a glare from the two on the opposite side of the table silenced him. He'd gotten in enough trouble over the years from mentioning their sexual tension, he didn't want Reilly to go spider monkey on him.

She sighed. “I'm gonna run to the bathroom, Katt can fill me in on what you have to tell us.” Reilly muttered, standing and heading for the door.

Just as she left, the waitress came to refill Sam's coffee. “Your girlfriend seemed upset.” She told him, giving a flirtatious smile.

Katt watched in annoyed amusement while Sam floundered with the flirting and explaining that Reilly wasn't in fact his girlfriend.

The waitress smiled. “Then it's my lucky day.” She said, walking way from the table.

Dean stared at his brother. “Dude... If you were ever gonna get lucky..”

Sam looked at the retreating female with a smirk. “I don't know... I don't feel in the mood for romance.” He told him, lifting his coffee cup and having it spill on his lap causing him to stand and smack right into a bus boy.

Katt slipped out of the booth to let Dean out, but she soon was doubled over in laughter. “Good job, Winchester. That was graceful.”

Dean helped Sam up and cursed when Sam pulled his pockets inside out. “Dammit.”

Reilly showed back up at that moment. “What happened?” She raised an eyebrow at Sam's wet pants. “Do we need to potty train you?”

He sneered. “Shut up, we have bigger things to deal with.”

Back at Bobby's, once the crisis of Sam's epic bad luck was over, the five hunters were all camped out in the dining room trying to figure out the workings of the Colt.

Reilly's arm was back in the sling from having gotten it knocked about during the misfortune of Sam and she could barely use it.

As it was, Sam, feeling guilty for making her arm worse, kept busy by checking out omens around the US. He walked into the inner sanctum and explained about a suicide in a church and a man, as Dean liked to call him a psycho scrapbooker, who went postal in a hobby shop.

Katt stood and stretched. “I'm game. Anything to get out of this house. I'm going nuts.” She said, looking at Bobby with an almost sincere apologetic face. “Sorry, Bobby, I just go stir crazy. You know that.”

Reilly remained seated, looking over something so that she didn't have to look up at Sam. “I'll stay here with Bobby. Someone has to make sure he doesn't put this thing back together wrong and blows himself up.” She said, managing a smile to the older hunter.

“I'm twice your age, girl, but I can still toss you over my knee.” He said playfully.

Dean chuckled. “I think this is getting a little too kinky for me. I'll get our stuff packed. Sammy, get it together, we're leaving.” He said, grabbing his duffle from the living room since Katt didn't want to share the last bedroom upstairs and he was tired of seeing Sam's face every morning.

Bobby took a moment to get himself something to drink, and Katt disappeared upstairs to get her own stuff.

Sam stood in the doorway a little while, unsure of what to say. He'd apologized plenty for having hurt Reilly's arm worse, but they still weren't on completely happy ground. He breathed a sigh and looked at his feet. “How's Sammy?” He asked her.

Reilly busied herself with looking at the barrel of the Colt. “He's doing fine. He loves being with his cousins, and Matt's grilled cheese sandwiches are his favorite. He's in heaven.” She said simply.

He nodded. “Next time you talk to him, tell him I say hello and that I love him.” He said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Will do. Have fun in Ohio. Take care of my cousin.” She told him dismissively.

Sam walked out of the room in defeat. He was a chicken, this much everyone knew. He'd been cowardly toward Reilly since they were little, when they first met and she freaked him out. Now they were both grown and he still didn't have the courage to talk to her alone.

It didn't help the fact that he knew that he was in love with her, but he had demon blood in him. He was dangerous not only to everyone around him, but to his son and he didn't want to endanger the boy any more than he already was. He played with the bracelet on his wrist, the protection band he and his child both wore and felt a pang of guilt.

He was being selfish wanting to get together with Reilly. He couldn't pretend to be a father, not with how he was raised. He should have realized that from when he tried to play house at Stanford with Jessica. He was doomed to be alone for eternity. That was his cross to bear. As soon as they got all the demons rounded up and sent back to Hell, he'd leave Reilly and Sammy to live their lives without him.

Bobby walked back into the dining room with a couple glasses of soda. “How long are you gonna string that boy along before you tell him you love him?” He asked, sitting back at his chair.

Reilly sipped her soda quietly for a moment. “When Hell freezes over. I don't want him to stick to domestic life with me and Sammy when I know that this is the life he needs to be in.”

The older hunter shook his head. “That's not what he needs. He needs to be able to make his own decisions about you.” He picked up the part of the gun he was working on previously. “But it's not my place to tell you what to do. I just want you to think on it.”

Reilly sighed wearily. “Yeah, Bobby. I know.”