CHAPTER SIXTEEN:
EYE OF THE TIGER.

⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅

THE FOUL STENCH of cigarette smoke was almost overwhelming. But, with another shot being placed in front of her, Birdie didn't mind the stench as she downed the reddish liquid. She scrunched up her nose as it burned the back of her throat, shaking her head as she pushed the glass away from her once she was done with it. Loud music played from the jukebox in the far corner of the bar, most of the songs sounding like ones that Dean would've been more familiar with. There were two pool tables behind her, a group of burly men taking bets as they played anyone they thought would have made a good challenge. A few giggly college girls were sitting near the front door, their table nearly full of empty shot glasses as one of the girls stood at the end of the bar to order more. A stage was in the far left corner, but instead of there being instruments or karaoke equipment set up there, there were four large slot machines; two were currently occupied by old women who'd been there before Birdie arrived. Two men were seated at the counter, a decent amount of seats empty between them and Birdie as the woman had purposely chosen a seat far away from other people.

"Are you sure you want another one?" Birdie pursed her lips, dazed eyes meeting the dark brown eyes of the bartender. Her dark brown hair was pulled up in a ponytail, a few loose strands sticking to the back of her neck. She wore a dark red henley tank top, the top few buttons undone. It was tucked into a pair of blue jeans, some pens stuffed in her front pockets in case she had to take orders for one of the tables. A small name tag was clipped to the strap of her tank top, the name Tatum written in bold letters. Some sweat glistened on her temples, having been moving from one end of the bar to the other as people flowed in and out of the bar for most of the night. Birdie had come in almost an hour ago when business was finally beginning to slow as the bar was only open for another few hours and it was getting rather late, but the woman didn't seem to mind the work.

Birdie twisted her lips, placing her head on her hand. "I'm very sure," she replied.

The bartender softly sighed but turned, getting another glass. Birdie stole a glance to the side, seeing two of the college girls stumble towards the bathroom. She shook her head and faced forward, smiling when seeing the shot was already in front of her. It was a clear color, causing her to raise a brow at Tatum. "Trust me, you'll like it," the woman said, the corners of her lips curling up into a smile.

Birdie cautiously picked it up, giving the bartender a suspicious look. "I'm trustin' you here." Tatum softly chuckled, shaking her head as she wiped off a glass to put on the back rack near the shelves that were full of different kinds of alcohol. Birdie lifted the glass to her lips and threw her head back, downing the drink in just a few seconds. She sat it back on the counter, furrowing her brows together as she gaped at the bartender. "That was fuckin' water."

Tatum chuckled, her smile only widening. "I was just trying to gauge how drunk you were——I guess you're more sober than I thought."

Birdie huffed, shaking her head in disbelief. "No tip for you then."

"How about I make it up to you? Bloody Mary on the house?" the bartender offered, standing in front of Birdie with her hands planted on the counter and a smirk on her lips.

Birdie quickly shook her head. "Oh, no, no. I-I've heard all about that woman and-and that's just——noooo thank you."

Tatum knitted her brows together, tilting her head as Birdie's words registered in her mind. "You know all about. . .how about you choose then?"

"I like that idea much better," Birdie giggled. "How about a. . .screwdriver?"

"Comin' right up," Tatum nodded, giving Birdie a faint smile as she stepped away to make the drink. Birdie let out a soft sigh, going to reach for her phone in her pocket until she realized she couldn't feel it there anymore. Her lips turned into a frown as she checked her other pocket, but it wasn't there either.

"What the fuck?" she whispered to herself. She turned on the stool, looking down at the floor to see if it might've fallen and she didn't realize it. But, it was nowhere in sight.

"Lookin' for this?" Birdie's head snapped up at the familiar voice, an excited gasp escaping her lips when seeing Dean heading towards her with her phone clutched in his hand.

"Dean! I missed you," she said as he came over, a giddy grin spread on her lips like she hadn't just been frowning about misplacing her phone mere moments ago.

Dean gave her a quizzical look, taking in her giddy expression and dazed look in her eyes. "Are you drunk?" he asked.

Birdie shook her head. "No, but hopefully, I will be after my next drink."

Dean shook his head, putting the woman's phone in his pocket; he didn't think it'd be safe in her hands at the moment. "What're you doin' here, Bird?" he wondered. "It's almost two in the morning."

"I'm here to get drunk, obviously," Birdie answered with a shrug. "Well, that-that's not why I came here at first. . . I came here because I couldn't sleep and this was the only place I-I could find still open. But. . .why not get drunk?"

"Because you don't get drunk, not often, anyways," Dean replied. "I'm supposed to be the one who sneaks off to the bar, not you."

"Guess I beat you to it tonight," Birdie smugly said.

Dean opened his mouth like he was going to speak, but his lips smacked shut when he saw a tall glass of a yellow liquid be placed in front of Birdie. An orange slice was stuck around the rim, a striped straw placed inside with it nearly filled to the top. His eyes widened and he sharply turned his attention to the bartender. "Why're you givin' her that?"

"Because she ordered it," the bartender answered, giving Dean an odd look. "Is this guy bothering you?"

"Am I b——"

"He's alright," Birdie said with a wave of her hand as she took a sip of the drink. "It's easier if you just ignore him. That's what I normally do."

Tatum looked between Dean and Birdie, trying to gauge what was going on between them. She didn't exactly get the feeling that they were a couple, but she could tell that they were familiar with each other. "Just give her water from now on, alright?" Dean said, plopping down into the seat beside Birdie.

Birdie deeply frowned, shaking her head. "I-I don't even know what he said because I ignored it, and hopefully you did the same."

Tatum smiled, faintly shaking her head as she looked towards Dean. "You want anything?"

"You know how to get out of a deal with a crossroads demon without losing what you gained from it?" Birdie asked, a blank expression on her face as she stared at the shorter woman.

Dean nervously laughed when the bartender's eyes widened, unable to tell if Birdie was joking or not. "She's-she's kidding," Dean said.

"No I'm not——"

"Yeah, she——it's this joke we play. . .at bars," Dean said, trying to come up with the best lie he could at the moment. "It's fuckin' weird, I know."

"I'll. . .just give you a minute to think. . ." Tatum said, forcing a smile onto her lips as she moved to a lonesome man at the opposite end.

Birdie harshly glared aside at Dean, sipping on her drink some more. Dean ran a tired hand along his face, letting his arm fall to rest on the counter before meeting Birdie's gaze. "What're you doin', Bird?"

"I already told you——"

"You didn't come here to actually drink, yeah, I know," Dean said, eyes glancing over her features. "I believe you, okay? But what made you decide to get drunk?"

Birdie twisted her lips, letting her fingers trace the glass in front of her, feeling the bitter cold press against her warm skin. "I. . .I don't know, Dean. It just. . .being here by myself after waking up from "dreams" with my mom——seeing people so happy here or just laughing about everything——I thought it might make me feel the same."

Dean softly sighed, glancing down at the counter. "Birdie. . ."

"No, please don't," Birdie said with a shake of her head. "I don't want any pity."

"It's not pity, Bird. I. . .I get it. Trust me, I do."

Birdie frowned, eyes boring into Dean's as she faced him. She twisted her lips as she looked towards her drink, turning back to Dean. "I feel like I should offer you a sip, but I. . .I kinda don't wanna share."

Dean breathed out a laugh, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "That's okay. You enjoy that because it's only water after that."

"And only water for you," Birdie said, giving him a look.

"I think I can have one," Dean said, folding his arms in front of him.

Birdie huffed, shaking her head. "No, no. You're the DD now."

"When the hell was that decided?" Dean demanded to know.

Birdie smirked, taking a rather large sip of the screwdriver. "The minute you walked in."

Dean gaped at her, but Birdie just giggled when seeing his reaction. "So now I'm being punished for being a good friend?"

"Well, you wouldn't be much of a good friend if you crashed the car while drinking and driving and hurting us both," Birdie said matter of factly. Dean's face hardened, blinking at the younger woman. Birdie innocently shrugged. "It's true and you know it, mister."

"Whatever you say," Dean sighed, playfully rolling his eyes. Birdie smiled and bumped her elbow into his, a moment of silence overcoming them as the song that had been previously playing ended. They both waited to see what would come on, their eyes lighting up as they heard the familiar tune of Eye of the Tiger.

"Dean, it's your song," Birdie said, cheerfully smacking his arm.

Dean slightly winced, but a smile immediately returned to his lips. "I don't know if it's really my song——"

"Oh, puh-leeease, Dean," Birdie huffed, dramatically rolling her eyes, "I've lost track of how many times I've seen you lip-singing this song, or overheard you singing it when-when you thought you were alone."

"I. . ." Dean's voice dragged off, only managing a huff. He did enjoy the song more than others, and somehow Birdie knew it, too. "Shut up, Bird."

Birdie giggled, moving her shoulders as she started to dance to the song. "Don't lose your grip on the dreams of the past," she quietly sang, her grin beginning to widen as Dean's did. "C'mon, Dean, sing with me. You must fight just to keep them alive."

Dean sucked in a deep breath, starting to move his shoulders along with the woman. "It's the eye of the tiger, it's the thrill of the fight, rising up to the challenge of our rival," he lip sang, his and Birdie's smiles brightening more and more as they started to get lost in the song. "And the last known survivor stalks his prey in the night, and he's watching us all with the eye of the tiger!"

Birdie loudly laughed and moved her head to the beat, both her and Dean preparing for the next verse until it suddenly changed. Their faces immediately fell and turned towards the jukebox, seeing one of the old lady's now standing in front of it. Some song Birdie and Dean didn't recognize began to play, causing prominent frowns to appear on their faces.

"What the fuck?" Birdie huffed, throwing her hands up for emphasis.

"I know," Dean grumbled, glaring over towards the old lady who didn't seem bothered by some of the looks she received for abruptly changing the song. "You'd think a grandma in a leather jacket would have a little bit of taste." Birdie took another gulp of her drink, shifting on the stool to swing her legs over the side like she was going to get up. Dean frowned as she stood up, holding his hand out to stop her. "Woah, what're you doing?"

Birdie gave him a puzzled look, gesturing towards a hall near the jukebox with her thumb. "Uh, going to the bathroom."

"Oh," Dean said, dropping his hand down.

Birdie gave him a small smile, turning on her heel to head to the bathroom. She staggered slightly, but she caught her footing with ease and disappeared down the dingy hall. Dean faintly shook his head and leaned his elbows on the counter, seeing the bartender approaching.

"Pick your poison yet?" Tatum wondered, cocking a brow in Dean's direction.

Dean pursed his lips together in thought, bright green eyes skimming over the multiple rows of alcohol behind the younger woman. Then he sighed a few seconds later, giving the woman a forced smile. "I'll, uh, I'll just have a water," he answered.

Tatum raised her brows in surprise. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," Dean said, looking slightly offended by the woman's surprise. "Why do you look so surprised?"

"I don't know," Tatum answered as she nonchalantly shrugged. "I guess you looked more like a whiskey kinda guy to me."

"Oh, I am, trust me," Dean quickly nodded, breathing out a laugh. "But, apparently I'm the DD tonight, so. . ."

"I'm glad you're taking it seriously," Tatum said, a small smile appearing on her lips as she grabbed a clean glass from the counter behind her. "It's not very often the sober people here get into the driver's seat."

"And you don't stop them?" Dean questioned.

Tatum gave him a look, filling up the glass in the machine just a few inches away from where Dean was seated. "Have you ever met a drunk man and tried having a logical conversation with him?"

Dean faintly nodded. "Fair enough."

Tatum quietly sighed, setting the glass in front of Dean. "But, I do call the police whenever I see it——just don't tell anyone here I said that or I'll deny it."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Dean cheekily replied. Then he picked up the glass, taking a sip. He immediately scrunched up his nose, smacking his lips together as he sat it back down in front of him.

Tatum chuckled under her breath and shook her head. "Yeah, you're definitely a whiskey man."

"Well, what can I say? I——"

"I said stop!"

Dean immediately turned his head at the sound of the sharp voice, anger immediately sparking in his eyes when seeing a burly man standing rather close to Birdie. She was nearly out of the hall, but the man were seemingly blocking her path back into the bar. He was nearly a foot taller than her, some shaggy black hair down to his shoulders as he wore a tattered jean jacket that had different band names sloppily embroidered into the back of it. Dean couldn't make out the man's features, but none of that fazed Birdie as she sharply glared at the taller man.

Dean hastily got up from his stool, heading straight towards the man. Tatum frowned as she stood behind the counter, anxiously biting her lip. She'd witnessed enough bar fights to know when one was about to start, and when she needed to stay out of it.

"Come on, sweetheart," the man said with a smirk, peering down at Birdie. "It's much better than this joint."

"I'd rather die," Birdie sneered, jaw tightly clenched.

"Now you listen here," he said, roughly grabbing hold of her forearm. Birdie went to tug it away, but the man's grip on her immediately released when he was roughly grabbed by the shoulder and slammed against the wall beside him. Birdie quietly gasped in surprise, watching wide eyes as Dean placed his arm against the man's chest, a dark look on his face. "What the fuck, man?!"

"She said stop," Dean said. "You know what that means, don't you, you asshole?"

"That doesn't——"

"No means no, you piece of shit," Dean said. "You ever put your hands on her, or any——"

"Okay, okay! I get it, I get it, man!" the man shouted, pure terror on his features as Dean's glare hatefully burned into him. "Now get your damn hands off me!"

Dean stole a glance towards Birdie, seeing the prominent frown on her lips and how she was holding the spot where the man had grabbed her. He felt his blood boil, turning back to face the man. He loosened his grip on the man as he took a small step back, and then he swung his fist. His clenched hand roughly collided with the man's jaw, knocking him to the floor as he let out a pained grunt. Birdie's eyes noticeably widened, her brown eyes darting between Dean and the man. However, flashes of red and blue just outside captured her attention.

Birdie winced and reached forward to grab Dean's arm, tugging him towards the back exit near the bathrooms without a second thought. "Bird——"

"Just c'mon!"

Birdie hurried out of the door, taking Dean's hand in hers as she dragged him towards Baby that was parked in the back parking lot a few spots down from her motorcycle. "Birdie, wait a sec——"

Birdie let go of his hand as they neared the car, Dean heading around the front to the drivers side while Birdie hastily slipped into the passenger seat.

Dean let out a shaky breath, eyes darting to Birdie before he started up the car. "Hey, hey, wait, Bird, look at me," he said. Birdie turned towards him, lips still turned downward in a frown. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you? He——"

"Dean, I'm fine," she softly answered.

Dean glanced over her face, looking down at her arm she'd been holding just a little under a minute ago. "What about your arm? Did he——"

"I said I'm fine," Birdie heavily sighed, slouching against the seat with her eyes pinned to the floor. "Nothing that hasn't happened before."

"You mean——"

"No, I. . .it doesn't matter," Birdie whispered.

"C'mon, talk to me." Dean sighed. Birdie sourly twisted her lips, fiddling with her fingers as she made no motion to speak. Dean's brows knitted together, a thought suddenly occurring to him. "You mean with-with your mom?"

Birdie breathed out a bitter laugh. "She was a lot stronger than that dick inside."

"She——"

"Can we have this chick flick moment on the road? Please?" she asked, feeling a hint of panic making its way through her body; it was only a matter of time until someone said two people just took off running out of the back door and the police would barge out to try and find them. Dean heavily sighed but nodded, backing out of the parking spot and speeding away in the opposite direction.

Birdie glanced back and let out a sigh of relief as the police lights started to fade away, closing her eyes as she leaned her head against the back of the seat. She could still partially feel the effects of the alcohol, but what happened inside the bar seemed to sober her up.

"I think we're in the clear. . .for now at least," Dean said after a few moments, stealing a glance aside. "You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, I'm alright," Birdie answered, slowly opening her eyes. She lazily turned her head towards Dean, giving him a tired smile. "Thank you, Dean."

He gave her a small smile in return, adjusting his grip on the steering wheel. "Did. . .did your mom. . ."

"Yes," Birdie said, already knowing what he was going to say. Dean's lips parted, eyes slightly widening as he looked aside at her. She puffed out her cheeks, folding her arms over her chest. "I mean, it wasn't all the time, and it wasn't random. If I-if I was being too much trouble, trying to stand my ground——"

"When'd it start?" Birdie's lips smacked shut, brows furrowing together as she looked towards Dean in confusion. Her eyes bored into his, lips twisting as she realized what he meant.

"Honestly, I don't know," she quietly answered, looking down at her arms. "I just. . .it's how she always was. Well, not always, but——"

"I'm so sorry, Birdie," Dean said, frowning as he shook his head. "I-I should've——"

"No, Dean, please don't do that," she said, frowning as she sat up and partially turned to face him. "I, uh. . .I learned how to hide it pretty well, and I knew better than to mention it, or how to lie if someone happened to-to notice."

Dean faintly shook his head, unable to see how he could've missed what was happening to his friend. Her own mother was hurting her, and he hadn't noticed a single thing. He knew that Serena wasn't the nicest woman alive and ran a tight ship, but he never would've thought she'd lay a hand on her daughter of all people. "You didn't deserve that, Birdie," Dean said.

Birdie softly sighed, glancing aside at Dean. "Neither did you."

Dean furrowed his brows slightly, his eyes peering into the woman. He wanted to believe that he didn't know what she was talking about, but he did. He forced out a laugh, tilting his head as he focused on the road in front of them. "Some parents of the year, huh?"

Birdie breathed out a laugh as well, shaking her head as she peered out of the window. "Yeah," she sighed to herself. "You know, not to. . .talk ill of your dad, but. . .whenever I was around him. . .he-he always did kinda remind me of my mom. I mean, I never really knew why, but I remember one time——I think you guys were working a case or something in Maine just a few years ago——and I saw him almost hit you and I——"

"Wait, wait," Dean interjected, waving his hand as she stole a look over at her, "Are you trying to tell me you're the one who threw a baseball, and a bat, into the windshield of my baby?"

Birdie's lips remained open, eyes carefully examining his face. "Well, I-I-it wasn't your car yet! And, hey, it caused him to stop and got you away from him so he could cool himself off," she said, offering him a sheepish smile when seeing he didn't look too pleased. But, then he started to smile, a laugh escaping his lips as he continued heading towards the motel they were staying at for the night. "At least I left a note, too."

"Oh, yeah. The note that said, oops, sorry about your car, hope you got good insurance."

Birdie snickered to herself, vividly remembering scribbling the message on a piece of notebook paper before she stuck it under one of the windshield wipers. "I know it wasn't my smartest move, but. . .I didn't want you to get hurt."

"And here I thought you used to despise me."

"Oh, I did, but that was until you came to my rescue one day."

Dean glanced towards Birdie, raising a brow. "Could you be more specific?"

Birdie playfully rolled her eyes. "I know you had to look after me and Sam sometimes when we were younger, but I specifically remember the time you helped me——the one that made me think that maayybe you weren't sooooooooo bad."

"When was it?"

Birdie tilted her head in thought, pursing her lips together as she placed her chin on her hand. "Uh, 1997, I think?" she answered, scrunching up her nose as she tried to remember if that was right or not. "Just somewhere around there——but anyways, it was in Omaha, uh. . .a-a djinn case. Our parents left us there and headed up to. . ."

It wasn't enough that Birdie was now attending yet another school when she'd only been going to her former one for not even two weeks, but now she was attending school with both Sam and Dean——along with sharing a tiny motel room with the  incredibly messy brothers. She didn't exactly mind being around Sam as he was becoming more tolerable as he and Birdie started to find themselves having more things in common than they'd originally thought, but Dean was something else entirely.

Reese liked to tease Birdie that she and Dean acted like actual siblings whenever they had to be around each other for more than an hour, but neither Dean nor Birdie liked that. Sam never really commented on it unless he was alone with one of them, but that conversation typically didn't go so well no matter who it was with. But, when Birdie found out she was going to be rooming with the Winchesters while her parents went off on a hunt with John, she'd begged and begged to stay with Bobby instead. Serena immediately said no and that they were too close to Omaha to turn back around; not that she would have even done so if they were, anyways. The conversation with John and his boys had gone almost the same, but there wasn't any way Birdie and the boys were going to get out of seeing each other again. 

Birdie frowned as she opened up her locker, stuffing some books on the top shelf. She would've put them in her bag to take back to the motel to have in case she needed it for her homework, but seeing that she wouldn't be at the school long enough to actually learn anything, she figured she'd just stuff them in the locker for the time being. Then she slipped her book bag in front of her, huffing when she saw a post-it note stuck on it saying 'kick me' in sloppy handwriting. She rolled her eyes and yanked it off, tossing it at the very bottom of her locker. She reached into her bag, taking out some Get to Know Your School & Teachers pamphlets she'd been given her first day of school; she absolutely hated the school and didn't care to get to know it or the staff, but she would admit that they put together a nice welcome package. She shook her head and quickly zipped up her book bag, slamming her locker closed with a huff.

"Hey, Birdie." Birdie turned her head with her eyes slightly widened, but she relaxed when she saw Sam standing off to the side of her with a small smile on his lips.

Birdie offered one in return, adjusting her shoulder strap. "Oh, hey, Sam."

"Did you finish the science homework?" Sam curiously wondered, the two beginning to walk towards their next classes near the end of the hall. They only had two classes together——Earth Science and P.E.——though those weren't until near the end of the day. But, their next classes were right across the hall from each other which led to them usually walking together.

Birdie eyes slightly widened again, looking aside at Sam. "We had homework?"

"So that's a no," Sam sighed.

Birdie groaned, tossing her head back as they weaved through some older kids. She didn't pay any attention to them, only rolling her eyes if one of them bumped into her without even acknowledging her. "I forgot. I had to do some research for my Mom last night and then I fell asleep."

"Can you do it in another class?" Sam wondered, a faint frown on his lips.

Birdie sighed, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't know. But, I doubt it."

Sam twisted his lips as he thought, glancing around the other students as they neared their classes. Then he stopped near a separate hall, causing Birdie to stop as well with a puzzled look on her face. "What're you——"

Sam reached into his bag, pulling out a piece of paper. He glanced over it, smiling as he quickly handed it to Birdie. Birdie blinked in surprise, looking down at it to see what it was. "Is this——"

"The homework, yeah," Sam said with a nod.

"Sam, I can't——"

"It's okay, Bird," Sam said, giving her a small smile. "You'll be able to finish it faster this way."

Birdie let out a heavy sigh, the corners of her lips curling up into a grin. "Thanks, Sam."

"You're welcome."

Then they hurried to their next classes, taking one last look at each other before they slipped into the rooms. Birdie's next class was geometry; one of her least favorite subjects. While her fellow classmates took notes over the next unit that they're teacher was droning on and on about, Birdie managed to copy Sam's homework before class was over. Her handwriting was rather sloppy and almost illegible due to her rushing to get it done so she wouldn't get caught, but it would have to do. She did manage to jot down some notes that could've been used for the homework that was passed out at the end of the class, but none of it made much sense to her——not that it would have even if she'd been paying attention since the start.

All she wanted to do was just get back to the motel so she could take a nap.

Birdie softly sighed to herself, eyes glancing around the parking lot for any sign of Sam or Dean. Usually Dean managed to be outside first, waiting by one of the picnic tables in the front of the school or chatting up some girls who'd taken a certain liking to him as he waited for Sam and Birdie. Birdie was usually next, always trying to get out as soon as possible while Sam was often last. But, Dean was nowhere to be seen, causing a frown to appear on Birdie's lips as a few minutes had already ticked by and he hadn't found her yet; now, no, she didn't particularly like Dean, but when she was waiting with him for Sam, everyone left her alone. She didn't have to worry about any of her classmates bothering her, picking on her, or "talking" to her——their way of bullying her without realizing that she knew exactly what they were doing since whenever they were "just talking" to her, it bordered on being ridicule and taunting.

Birdie shook her head and shifted as she sat on the edge of a picnic table, sketchbook in hand as she worked on a sketch she'd started in her art class that morning. She hadn't made much progress since most of her classes had required her to do one thing after another, but she decided to work on it more while she waited for Sam and Dean. Students walked to and from cars, some of the high school kids lingering near their side of the building where most of their classes kept them separated from the younger kids. Cars slowly moved along the sidewalk as kids hopped into cars and headed off, others walking down the street and cutting through the park to get to an after school snack or meet up with some friends before they headed home. There were typically two teachers nearby to help monitor the kids getting in the cars and on buses and such, but Birdie didn't see any; not that she minded that.

"Hey, Big Bird! Whatcha drawin' over there?"

Birdie fought the urge to roll her eyes, slowly lifting her head to see a boy from her P.E. class——Brandon or something——approaching her with two of his friends beside him, Lucas and David. Brandon was the tallest out of the three, messy black hair that was now partially tucked inside a Chicago Bulls hat that was on backwards. He had on a school basketball jersey and jeans, the shirt a little too big as it made his arms look more lanky than they already were. Lucas was shorter than Brandon but taller than David with blond hair that was gelled back and stuck in place. He wore a basketball jersey as well, his more fitting and paired with a matching pair of shorts. David had shaggy red hair that curled at the ends, almost matching the freckles that dotted his round, chubby cheeks. He had on a simple black shirt and a pair of blue jeans with some holes in the knees. Birdie twisted her lips and partially closed her sketchbook, looking towards the boys with a blank expression on her face.

"Just working the one from this morning in art," Birdie answered after a few seconds.

"Lemme see," Brandon said, expectantly holding his hand out.

Birdie pulled the book closer to her chest. "It's not really interesting. I've barely done anything——"

"Come on, Birdie," David  laughed, coming up beside Birdie as he tried to take it from her hands. Birdie immediately pulled it the other way, but Lucas snatched it from her hands as he stood on the other side of the girl.

"Hey, give it back!" Birdie angrily shouted. She slipped off the table and reached for the book, but Lucas laughed and held it above his head, a smug grin on his lips. Birdie stood on her tippy toes and reached for it, but she still wasn't tall enough to reach it. She huffed in annoyance, harshly glaring at the boy. "Give it back, asshole!"

"Woah, that's no way to talk to your friend," he huffed, brows furrowed together.

"You are not my fuckin' friends," Birdie sharply said. "None of you are."

Brandon gaped in offense, a small smirk appearing on his lips when his friend tossed him Birdie's sketchbook. She turned on her heel, a prominent frown on her face. "Oh, come on," Brandon chuckled, his laugh growing louder when Birdie reached for her sketchbook and he held it up over his head just like David had done so moments ago. "We're just having fun, Big Bird."

"Do you see me smiling?" Birdie harshly snapped, anger etched on her face. Usually she tried not to let her anger get the best of her, but something about Brandon and his friend just didn't sit right with her.

Brandon scoffed, tilting his head. "You know you want to!"

"No, what I really wanna do is——" Birdie lifted her leg, kicking Brandon in the place where she knew it would hurt him the most. He grunted and dropped the book to the ground as he collapsed to his knees, hands pressed against his crotch. Lucas hurried over to him, sharply glaring at Birdie for what she'd done to his friend. Some of the other students had turned at the sudden commotion, trying to figure out what was going on.

David rushed over to Birdie, harshly shoving her to the ground. "You bitch!"

Birdie grunted as her back collided to the ground, awkwardly landing on her book bag. She hissed, feeling some folders poke into her back while part of her head hit the ground.

Dean turned his head at the sound of a pained shout, furrowing his brows as he sat up some at the table he was seated at. "Damn kids," one of the girls at the table huffed, rolling her eyes as she turned back to face Dean. Dean curiously titled his head, his eyes widening when he saw a boy push a curly haired girl to the ground, but it wasn't just any girl, it was Birdie.

Dean hastily stood up with his bag in tow, ignoring the girl shouting for him to come back. "Dean, wait! It's just some dumb kids!"

Dean pushed his way through the kids who'd started to circle around in hopes of seeing a fight, having seen the one with a pained look go for Birdie just as she started to get up. Dean hastily rushed forward, giving the kid a nudge back right when he got in front of Birdie. "Don't even think about it," Dean snapped, eyes narrowed.

The boy gaped at the older teenager, holding his hand out. "She started it!"

"I don't give a shit. I'm ending it," Dean said with a roll of his eyes. Then he turned, bending down to help Birdie back up. She gave him a strange look but allowed him to grab her arm, helping her onto her feet. She huffed and shot Brandon and his friends a glare, jaw tightly clenched. Dean shook his head and turned, seeing the sketchbook splayed out on the ground. "Stay away from her, you hear me?" Dean said, eyes focused on the three boys.

"Whatever," Brandon grumbled, rolling his eyes as he turned to walk in a different direction. Lucas and David glared at Birdie as they started to walk away with Brandon, the crowd beginning to disperse with disappointment.

Birdie didn't pay attention to Brandon and his friends as Dean stood in front of her, his bright eyes glancing over her face. "You alright?" Dean wondered.

Birdie heavily sighed, faintly nodding her head. "Yeah."

Dean stared at her for a few more seconds, letting out a sigh as he turned and picked up the sketchbook. He held it out to her, seeing her take it with a frown still lingering on her face. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Why'd you help me, Dean?" Birdie couldn't help but wonder as she looked up at the older boy.

Dean nonchalantly shrugged, adjusting his book bag strap that had started to slip down from his shoulder. "I don't think your parents want a call about you gettin' in a fight."

Birdie scoffed, shaking her head. She moved back over to the table she'd been sitting on just a few minutes ago, opening her bag to stuff the sketchbook inside. "That's why you helped?"

"Why else would I?" Birdie twisted her lips, looking back down at her bag without responding. Dean shifted, tilting his head as he peered down at the younger girl. "I didn't wanna see you get hurt."

Birdie snorted, clearly amused by that response. "Yeah, okay."

"It's true, okay?" Dean said. Birdie made a face, looking up at Dean with a look that said she didn't believe him. Dean huffed, shaking his head as he glanced aside to see if Sam was finally out of the building. "I still don't really like you but. . .I don't want you to get hurt either——especially on my watch."

Birdie's eyes lingered on him, a small smile beginning to appear on her lips. "You do like me, don't you, Dean?"

Dean scoffed, rolling his eyes at the mere notion. "No, I don't."

"Yeah you do."

"Are you goin' deaf? I said I——"

"Hey, Bird, do you know why Brandon Elliot's crying?" Sam asked as he jogged over to Dean and Birdie, an amused smile on his lips. Birdie's eyes widened in surprise as she shared a look with Dean, seeing that he was beginning to smile as well. Sam furrowed his brows when seeing his brother and Birdie look at each other like they were having a silent conversation; that had never happened before.

"He——"

"Who's been fighting out here?" A firm voice shouted as they exited the double doors.

Birdie's eyes widened in horror, wincing at the thought of getting in trouble for fighting on school property. Dean immediately reached for Sam and Birdie, grabbing their shoulders and nudging them towards the car before Birdie could get in trouble. "Time to go."

"Wait, what——"

Dean quickly shushed Sam, pushing him to go faster as the principal started to walk towards a group of kids to try and figure out what had happened in their absence. Sam looked between his brother and Birdie in utter confusion, but the panic on their faces was enough for him to fasten his pace.

"Whatever happened today, we weren't involved, alright?"

Birdie quickly nodded in agreement. "Alright."

"But I still don't know——"

"We'll explain in the car," Dean huffed in response, shooting Sam an annoyed glare as he rounded the front of the car. "Now hurry up unless you wanna get in trouble, too."

Sam stole a quick glance at Birdie, but she just shot him a quick smile and climbed into the backseat. Sam blinked in surprise, wanting to question her, but seeing that she and Dean seemed to actually be getting along, he didn't push it. So, he climbed into the passenger seat and buckled up, a small smile etched on his lips as Dean quickly exited the parking lot as a Kansas song started to play from the radio.

"See?" Birdie hummed, a giddy smile on her lips as she looked aside at Dean. "You've been comin' to my rescue before you even wanted to."

Dean breathed out an amused chuckle, shaking his head as he continued to drive back towards the motel. "I save you, you save me. That's how this works, right?"

"It's supposed to be like that," Birdie said, twisting her lips as she looked at the road in front of them. Throughout the memory of Dean coming to her aid all those years ago, it reminded her of his predicament that she was desperately trying to find a solution to, but it wasn't going so well. "But it's not working."

"What? You know how many times you've saved my ass?"

"Yeah, but none of that's gonna matter in a few months, Dean." Dean turned his head, seeing the solemn look on Birdie's face. There was no doubt that she was thinking about how he only had a few months left to live. "I just. . .I don't wanna lose you, Dean."

"Hey, you're not gonna lose me," Dean softly said.

Birdie huffed, sharply turning her head. "We're not any closer to finding a way than we were last year. Everything's been a dead end and fuckin' Ruby isn't being any help. . .not that I really thought she would be, but I was just kinda hopin'. . ."

"Bird, we're gonna find a way to stop it, alright?" Dean said. He'd been meaning to tell her and Sam what Ruby said about her not being able to save him, or that supposedly there wasn't any way to save him, but he didn't think now was the right time. "You said it yourself——no time to die."

Birdie let out a shaky breath, twisting her lips. "Yeah. . ."

"Tell you what——after we stop Lilith, I'll take you to get that anti-possession tattoo." Birdie breathed out a forced laugh, wiping at her teary eyes. She turned towards Dean again, seeing a bright smile adorning his lips. "How does that sound?"

"It sounds painful," she truthfully answered, quietly chuckling.

"It's not that bad," Dean said, shrugging as he turned left. The motel was straight ahead, the large sign flickering as a few of the bulbs were beginning to go out. "It hurts a lot fuckin' less than gettin' shot."

Birdie faintly smiled, letting out a sigh. "I don't know, Dean. . ."

"You'll be fine, Bird. And, hey, I'll even hold your hand so you don't get scared."

Birdie playfully rolled her eyes and gave him a glare, but he just grinned even more and faced the road. Birdie shifted in the seat, a small smile lingering on her lips as a glint of hope sparked inside her heart. "You'll really hold my hand?"

"I promise."

⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅

Hello everyone!! So, since today is Dean's birthday, I thought it was fitting to post this since it mainly focuses on Dean and Bird 🥺 I know it was kinda shorter than usual too, but I think it works for this!

I did try to make Dean finding Birdie at the bar kinda parallel to when he finds Sam at a bar in this same season (though I can't remember which episode that was 😬). I also did touch on both John and Serena's "parenting skills" (if you can even call them that) and just how they were pretty similar! But yeah, anyways, I hope some of happiness in this chapter made up for some the sadness!!

AND AN IMPORTANT THING, I know in the intro I said I would be making destiel canon, but I've decided not to do that anymore, not because I no longer ship them [because I still do, and in this I originally planned to change certain scenes/dialogue since the show fucked them up a few times (and some things will still be changed)]but because I decided to bring in some wonderful original characters (who might just belong to the lovely and talented Amara, aka latte-to-go hehehe). But I hope y'all will still like what I've got planned for everyone!!

Anyways, please don't forget to leave your feedback in the comments and I hope y'all enjoyed!