XXV – Battle of the Brothers

"You want this blood because..." Dr. Roberts leaves her question open-ended and hanging, waiting for Sam or me to answer her.

"Uh, we'd like to run some tests," is Sam's answer.

"You know, I've run every test there is. It's, um, my job. Notice the lab coat."

"We know a specialist who'd like to try out a theory."

Dr. Roberts moves to a cabinet. "If you say so." She slides out a tray, full of blood test tubes. "What the hell?"

"What?"

"The blood's gone."

"How can it be gone?" I ask.

"I don't know, Agent. How about you tell me?"

"Alright, there's no need to get hostile," Sam cuts in. "Let's go find security. You have cameras around, right?"

"Of course."

We find security, and we explain the situation. We're allowed to see the footage. We review it, twice. Twice, we come back empty. No signs of someone breaking in to steal the blood samples.

"We've watched them twice," Dr. Roberts says. "Whoever took the blood..."

"Must have tampered with the tapes," Sam concludes. "Who has access to your office?"

"Everybody. I don't lock it."

"You what?" I ask.

"I've never had this problem before. What is so important about the blood anyway?"

"We think someone drugged the men, made them commit murder," Sam tells her.

"What? What kind of drug?"

"Ah, we're not sure yet."

"I don't know. I mean, I interviewed those guys and they had their reasons."

"Yeah but they all loved their victims."

"I'm sure they did. Come on. Haven't you ever been in a relationship where you really love somebody and still kinda wanted to bash their head in?"

"Sounds like you're speaking from experience."

"Yeah."

"Look, I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry."

"It's okay. I was the one who brought it up."

"I hate to interrupt whatever this is," I say, gesturing to Sam and Dr. Roberts, "but I'll step out and search the hospital, see if I can get any clues."

"By all means do. Not sure how much of help it'll give you, though."

Even though Dr. Roberts offers me a smile, I stalk out of her office. Sam and she are getting too friendly, and if something happens, I don't want to be there to witness it. Or be involved. Why am I worried anyway? We aren't anything. We don't have a title. Why do I care?

I don't search the hospital. Fuming, I step outside into the night, exhaling. My legs are shaking like my hands are. Alona, please. I know you hear me. Ignoring me is rude. Give me my Grace back and this will stop, I promise you. It's one last favor. Please. My favor to you will not be asking you anymore favors for the rest of eternity.

I mess with a stringy bout of hair, watching the tight curl bounce when it springs back up. The time passes slowly, and I realize Dean has taken his car with Munroe to the strip club. How are we getting back to the motel? Is it within walking distance? Do we call someone to drop us off? I'm still not sure how that works here.

After what seems like forever, Sam finally exits the hospital. I stand there, arms crossed, tapping my foot like a disappointed parent.

"What?" he asks innocently.

"You know the way back to the motel?"

"Yeah."

"Good. Let's go."

"Vera."

"Please don't talk to me right now, Sam. I know what went on back there; you did a poor job of keeping up your appearance."

* * *

"Vera."

I don't respond; I keep walking. Which one is the room? Which one?

"Vera."

I still give Sam no answer. I'm not giving him the satisfaction.

"Damn it, Vera!"

"Don't touch me!" I snap, ripping my arm out of his grip, turning to face him angrily. It's like a zebra going toe-to-toe with a giraffe—not that the animals fight in nature, but because of our height difference. "You know, if I could, I'd get away right now. I wish I could just zap myself somewhere!"

We'd gotten back to the motel room. I refused to step inside and shut the door. I listened on the other side. Sam got into an angry conversation with Dean on the phone, I could tell. I knew Dean thought that Dr. Roberts was the Siren—just by how Sam responded on his end.

I heard the phone break, and that's when I decided to move away from the room. And that's when Sam decided to chase me down in the motel. And that's how it's led to this point, with me toe-to-toe with him.

"Look, if you'd established where we stood in...whatever this is, then I wouldn't be so...so...angry about it. I would've, in fact, probably been okay with you having sex with Doctor Roberts in her office. But I'm not. Don't try to get on your knees and apologize. It's not happening."

"Why are you so upset, Vera? We're not even together!"

"Thank you for finally voicing that to me, Samuel!" I scream hysterically. "That's all I wanted, an answer. And now you've given it to me. Thank you." I salute him. "Consider us just friends. Or, what's the saying where two people aren't in a committed relationship and just have sex?"

Sam looks at me, appalled. "What? Vera, we're not friends with benefits. We only kissed, for God's sake!"

"Watch your tone when using His name!" I point a finger at him. "Humans, always throwing God's name around in vain when it shouldn't be almost one-hundred percent of the time! You know what? Uriel was right. This is much worse than death, or undergoing training. Being human is suffering. My emotions are smothering me! I have bodily functions that irk me to no end!"

"Vera—"

"Do you know why I'm upset about this, Samuel? Because I care. I care about you, and Dean, and a few others in this world! I didn't think I would, but I do! I care about the things that you do, whether or not they directly or indirectly affect me!" I pant heavily. "How do humans do it, day in and day out? Doctor Roberts got one thing right: I care about you, but at the same time you sometimes make me want to bash your stupid head in!"

"She...she didn't use the word 'care', Vera." Sam clears his throat. "She used 'love'."

Hearing the word stops me. Stops my anger in that brief second. I repeat the word over and over again, in my head. Love. Love. Love. Is that what this is? No, it can't be. I'm not...I don't...He doesn't...

My head really hurts now.

"I don't know what that is, Sam!"

"Apparently, you do, because you say Cara was right."

I scoff. "So it's Cara now?"

"Stop sounding like Dean, Vera."

I cross my arms. "I'm not...We're not...Gah." I feel a vein pulse in my head. "We're not. Because if we were, you wouldn't go having sex with other women!"

"I'm not saying that I am, you are, Vera. If you weren't, you wouldn't be reacting like this. You wouldn't be protective over me. You wouldn't...you wouldn't get jealous like this. You wouldn't hang around with Dean and I for as long as you have if you didn't...didn't love me."

I exhale loudly. He's claiming that I...love...him, but he doesn't return the same feelings? That makes my insides cold. Is this what rejection feels like? I'm not sure; I'm still new to a lot of human aspects.

"But you said...you said you felt the same way that I did, the night at Bobby's when we first kissed," I say in a small voice. "And you have the audacity to stand in front of me and tell me that you don't...you don't love me, too?"

"I don't know what I feel right now, Vera. It's...it's complicated." He sighs deeply. "Look, can we put this aside for now? We're in the middle of a case, and we're close to finding the Siren, I'm sure of it. We can maybe discuss this sometime later?"

I lick my lips. "I think I can put this aside for now."

The smallest smile from Sam gets my heart fluttering. "Good."

Walking alongside each other, we return to the motel room. We find Nick Munroe of all people, sitting on one of the beds.

"Nick," says Sam. "What are you doing here?"

I jump away as Dean holds a knife to his brother's throat.

"Dean?" I stammer. I look at Munroe, and the pieces click. "You."

"Me." Munroe smirks.

"I gotta tell ya, you're one butt ugly stripper," Sam says to Munroe.

"Well, maybe. But I got exactly what I wanted. I got Dean."

"Dean, come on, man, this isn't you. You can fight this. Let me go."

"Why don't you cut him?" Munroe tells Dean. "Just a little, right on his neck right there."

"Stop it!" I shout at Munroe as Dean slices Sam's neck a little.

"Dean's all mine."

"You poisoned him," Sam snarls.

"No. I gave him what he needed. And it wasn't some bitch in a G-string. It was you. A little brother that looked up to him, that he could trust. And now he loves me. He'd do anything for me. And I gotta tell you, Sam, that kind of devotion? I mean, watching someone kill for you? It's the best feeling the world."

"You're sick," I spit.

"Is that why you're slutting all over town?" Sam asks Munroe.

"Ah. I get bored, like we all do," Munroe drawls. "And I wanna fall in love again. And again...and again."

"I'll tell you what. I have fought some nasty sons of bitches, but you are one needy pathetic loser."

"You won't feel that way in a minute." I run for Munroe, but he has me easily by the throat as he grabs Sam and squirts toxin on his mouth and chin. "So I know you two have a lot you wanna get off your chests. So why don't you discuss it? And whoever survives can be with me forever." Munroe looks at me. "Don't worry, I'll let you play against the winner."

Munroe backs off, with me still by my throat, as I watch Sam and Dean look at each other with such hostility the temperature rises in the room.

"Well, I don't know when it happened," Dean tells Sam. "Maybe when I was in Hell. Maybe when I was staring right at you. But the Sam I knew, he's gone."

"That so?"

"And it's not the demon blood or the psychic crap. It's the little stuff. The lies. The secrets."

"Oh, yeah? What secrets?"

"The phone calls from Ruby for one."

"So I need your say-so to make a phone call?"

"That's the point. You're hiding things from me. What else aren't you telling me?"

"None of your business."

"See what I mean? We used to be in this together. We used to have each other's backs."

"Okay, fine. You know why I didn't tell you about Ruby, and Vera, and how we're hunting down Lilith? Because you're too weak to go after her, Dean. You're holding me back. I'm a better hunter than you are. Stronger, smarter. I can take out demons you're too scared to go near."

"That's crap."

"You're too busy sitting around feeling sorry for yourself. Whining about all the souls you tortured in Hell. Boo-hoo."

"Don't struggle," Munroe tells me as the Winchesters begin to throw punches at each other. "Don't ruin the fun."

"Pitting brothers against one another is fun?" I hiss.

When I see Sam and Dean catapult through the door, into the hall, I lash out at Munroe with my nails. He yells as I catch him in the eye, which causes him to let me go. I flee from the room. Sam is on the ground, Dean is picking himself up off the floor. Near Dean, he smashes the glass, which has an axe behind it.

"Do it," Munroe says. I spin, seeing the Siren watch the spectacle with interest. "Do it for me, Dean."

As Dean raises the axe to Sam, I run for the two of them. I stop abruptly as Dean screams, and his axe-wielding arm is held back. Bobby is behind Dean.

"Vera, duck!" Bobby orders me.

"No," I hear Sam yell. "NO!"

I hit the floor and see a knife fly in the air. Munroe's body drops in the hall.

I can tell the spell is off of Sam and Dean. Dean is gripping his shoulder, the one that Bobby stabbed. Sam and I exchange a look. I sigh, walking towards him, seeing the bruises his brother's fists made.

"You okay?" I ask him.

I twitch when he grabs my hand. "Yeah, I'm good."