Time Is on Our Side

A strangled sob escaped her lips as she instantly became awake. Her muscles tenses her fingers clutching a thick blanket. She was frozen, her eyes wide with her fear while she tried to control her breathing. She slowly sat up, feeling the tightness in her shoulder and became acquainted with her surroundings.

She was in some kind of bedroom. Grey concrete made up the walls and it was sparsely furnished and neat. A single brown dresser was tucked into the corner, the top of it scattered with an assortment of guns, knives and a wicked looking sword.

She was on a queen size bed that took up most of the room and she felt something soft next to her hand. She turned her head to see it was a blue and gray plaid shirt. She brought the shirt to her nose, closing her eyes. She inhaled the musky, masculine odor. The scent she had smelled on her pillow when she had woken up to see him sitting in that chair.

That's when she remembered the hospital and the man that had just suddenly appeared in front of her. She quickly sat up, wincing at the burn along her shoulder and back.

She yanked open the door and stumbled into a hallway that consisted of mostly doors. She turned her head to the left, then to the right. With a sigh, she placed her hands on her hips and blew out a breath. Where was that damn worm when she needed it? Which way? Hmmm? Left? Or Right? Up? Or Down?

She turned right. Which she was beginning to regret after several twists and turns through what appeared to be a bunker of some sort. Stupid, I should have gone left!

She was about to turn around, when the sounds of two male voices, rising in anger, echoed off the concrete walls.The hallway opened up into a huge room with a long table in the middle. She noticed him first.

He was sitting on the edge of the table, one foot perched on a chair as he sipped his beer. He hadn't noticed the new presence yet, so she had the upper hand.

She watched as the beer pressed up against his lips, the fullness wrapping around the rim. His throat bobbed up and down as the liquid slid down this throat. How could one man make drinking beer so damn sexy?

She also noticed, that sitting on his nose, was a white bandage. Around the end of the dressing, she could see the beginnings of a black and blue bruise. With a pang, she remembered what she had done. Fear had erased any lick of sense she had before. She acted on instinct.

“Annah, hey, you're up.”

She had been so focused in on Dean, that she hadn't realized anyone else as in the room with them. She turned her head to see Sam standing in the threshold, holding three take out bags in one hand and a case of beer in the other.

For just a brief second, Dean had felt someone else in the room. Hell, he could smell her, all over his damn shirt. On their short breaks between fucking like crazy, she had worn that shirt over her naked body. As they had gulped down their food, the moment she swallowed her last bite, the shirt ended up on the floor. He stuffed into the bag,the next morning not noticing what shirt it was. When they got to the bunker, and he lay Savannah down on his bed, he took out his clothes from the bag. Being the last thing he had shoved into the bag, the smell hit him as soon as he unzipped it.

When he heard his brother speak, he turned his head to see that she had been looking at him. He held his gaze with hers for a few heartbeats then cleared his throat as he slid off the table, walked up to Sam and grabbed one of the bags. With out a word, he walked to the table, pulled out a chair and sat down.

“I, uh, got some burgers. If that's OK?” Sam was trying to say anything to get his mind off what he had just walked into. She was standing there, looking at Dean. The look on her face, made Sam's heart break. There was an obvious attraction between his brother and the girl he once called his.

She tore her gaze off of Dean and managed a smile for Sam. “Thank you.” She reached out her hand, took the sack and shyly moved across the table from Dean and sat down.

Dean and Sam once again had been arguing. Ever since Dean got his memory back, he was dead set on finishing the search for the tablet. A tip from Bobby had Dean antsy. A kid had lapsed into a coma and when he woke up, he starting to draw symbols. Dean wanted to hit the road to find this kid, Sam wanted to stay with Savannah.

She could feel the tension mount in the room as the silence pressed thickly into the room. A clock somewhere nosily ticked down the minutes, Dean clicked the mouse on the lap top and down near the end of the table, Sam huffed and puffed. Finally, when the tension was about to explode, Sam nosily scooted back his chair, picked up the rest of his food and tromped up the metal stairs. His boots echoed heavily off the concrete as he made his way to the upper level hallway. Minutes later, a metal door clanked shut.

The silence was so thick in the room, it pressed into her chest and she struggled to find something to say. She bit around the edges of a french fry as she looked around the room there were in. The table sat in the middle of the room and a hallway expanded in front of her.

"This, is, uh, an interesting place you got here.”

Dean looked up from the lap top he was on to see Savannah sitting across him him. Her right leg was pulled up onto the chair, her red painted toes dangling off the edge. A mental image of him taking in those toes and sucking on them, raced through his mind. He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “It..uh...was given to us.”

“Like an inheritance?” She nibbled on the fry as she continued to survey the room. TO her left was a huge console of some sort with the map of the world and covered in lights. “Is this like some kind of end of the world bunker sorta thing?”

Dean grabbed his beer from beside him and took a huge swig. “You're kinda chatty for someone zapped into the back of a moving car.”

Dipping her fry into the ketchup, Savannah snorted.”Well, I have had weird shit happen to me the past 15 years.” Her smile fell for a fraction of second as the image of Janice flashed before her eyes.

Dean looked at her, noticing he blank look on her face. The hand that was holding the fry began to tremble a bit. “Yeah, I guess you have.” He looked back down at his lap top. When he spoke, she shook her head and popped the french fry into her mouth. She watched as he went back to his research.

"I'm sorry about that,” Savannah took a fry and pointed it at the white bandage on his nose. “I kinda got carried away.”

Dean reached up and touched his nose,wincing at the pain. “You have one hell of a right hook,Princess.” He caught her smile before he looked back at the screen.

God, Princess you feel so good. Savannah closed her eye as the image of Dean underneath her flashed through her mind. That word would always make her inside quiver with excitement.

“Watcha reading about?” She spoke around a huge bite of burger. She let a quiet sigh as she thoughtfully chewed her burger. She had to quickly change the subject. All this eye smoldering from him, was about to make her spontaneously erupt into flames of desire and lust.

Dean couldn't help but see the look of pure bliss on her face as she took a huge bite of her burger. That sound she made, the little hmmming sound, made his jeans a little more uncomfortable. “Uh...something about demon tablets.”

Savannah froze at the word demon, feeling the huge bite in her mouth sour. With some difficulty, she swallowed the thick wad placing the burger back on the wrapper. “Demons?” She looked down at her hands that were clutching the greasy yellow wrapper in her hands. Ezra. Her father. “B..back at the hospital..my friend...J...anice.” Her throat constricted on the name as she felt the burger churn in her stomach. “Wa...was it a demon?”

Dean let out a hiss between his teeth as he looked at her face. She was all new to this and he could see her struggling to accept what was being thrown at her. He had high respect for her strength. For all that she had been through, she wanted to know more. “Yes. While you were...sleeping, Sam and I went back to the hospital. Your co-worker, Ezra, I'm afraid he had been possessed and killed your friend Janice. We saw it on the security tapes” What Dean left out, for her own good, was watching Savannah as she discovered her friend's Spirit. The scream that came out of her mouth, one born of pain and sorrow, was a sound Dean would never forget.

“Why....why the hospital?” Savannah had taken several minutes after Dean spoke, to process what Dean was telling her. “My father...was it connected?”

Dean was about to answer her when he saw her face change. Her mouth was wide open in a silent scream, blue eyes were wide with her fear. Her right leg quickly fell to the floor and with a scrap of wooden legs on concrete, the chair was pushed backwards. She had the same exact look on her face when Dean had made her dinner. She was terrified.

Feeling the hair on the back of his neck, he turned his head to see Castiel standing near the stairwell. “Dammit Cas!” Dean's husky voice barked as he stood up from the chair. He turned back to see that Savannah had managed to get out of her chair and was now pressed against the bookcase. “Hey, Princess, it's OK.” His voice was low, raspy, as he slowly put up his hands and stepped around the table. Her muscles were tight, ready to spring if he made a sudden move. “He's not going to hurt you. Cas is on our side.”

At the mention of his name, Savannah's fear turned into curiosity. She slowly moved up from the floor, her hand still pressed against the bookcase. She studied him as he did the same to her. “You..you were there..that night....of the accident?”

Dean watched the angel and the human stare at each other. From the way her eyes were huge, Dean could tell that Savannah was looking at his true form. As if reading his thoughts, Castiel spoke up. “You can see my true form, can't you Savannah?”

Savannah couldn't look away from the man in the tan trench coat. She watched as his raven black wing, flexed behind him, bringing on a musty scent. The smell reminded her of Maverick, grandmother's parrot. He would come on her shoulder, nuzzle her hair and Savannah would place her nose into the bird feathers, inhaling the musty bird scent. “What kind of demon are you?” Savannah finally found her voice. If it was a demon, why wasn't' Dean killing it? He had said that it...Castiel..was on their side.

“I'm not a demon,” His voice was low, but she could still hear the command underneath the calmness. “I'm an...” Angel. The word pressed itself into her mind and Savannah struggled to make sense of it all.

Her family wasn't very religious, only going to church a few times. Easter, Christmas, the normal routine. When her parents died, she turned her back on her faith. If there was a God, why did he kill her parents?

When Dean cleared his throat, Savannah realized he was still in the room. She turned her head from the man with the wings, to see Dean staring at the two of them.

“So how come you Beamed Her Up, Scotty?”

“Beam...Her Up?” The angel's head cocked to the right as he studied Dean, trying to understand. “I don't get that reference Dean.”

Dean rolled his eye as he tucked his hands under his arm pits. Savannah could tell this was a source of irritation for the Winchester.“How come you used your angel mojo and zapped her into our car.”

Castiel took turns studying Savannah, amazed at how she could see him, to Dean who was also looking at her. The angel had spent plenty of time with the older Winchester, to know that look. “She is the key to all of this Dean,” He motioned his head towards the computer.

“The key to what?” Savannah and Dean both said at the same time. They shared a look, then turned back to Castiel.

Castiel held up his finger and pointed it to the ceiling. “We must go to the library where Sam is. “Your brother needs to hear this as well.”

“Cliffhangers Cas,” Dean muttered as he grabbed the bottle of scotch on the way to the stairs, “Are a bitch.”