CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE:
BEAUTIFUL LIAR.

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LARGE PAW PRINTS were spread throughout the junkyard from Rumsfeld's paws. A thin sheet of snow had covered Sioux Falls overnight, snowflakes still continuing to fall from the sky as a snowstorm crossed over South Dakota. Frost crept up the windows of Bobby's house, trying to pry its way into the warm and cozy house as the weather only grew colder. A small fire was going in the fireplace in the living room, some aged books stacked on top of Bobby's desk that he'd been reading through the last few days in hopes of finding out more about angels and the many, many seals that Lilith and the demons might attempt to break next. Rumsfeld was fast asleep on the couch, his paws still partially wet after being let outside not that long ago; he nearly didn't want to come in because he was having so much fun playing in the snow and trying to catch the snowballs Birdie tossed at him with his mouth. Sam and Bobby were both gone to the grocery store——Birdie was told to stay at the house so she wouldn't be able to sneak more snacks into the cart while Bobby wasn't looking——so they could get some groceries before the weather got even worse and the roads would be too slick to drive on. Dean was somewhere inside the house; taking a nap in one of the upstairs bedrooms, Birdie assumed as it'd been almost an hour since she last saw or heard him.

Though, the peace and quiet without any of the boys around was kind of nice, but she wasn't going to tell them that.

They hadn't been at Bobby's very long, having arrived a little past midnight the night before after finishing up their latest case. Bobby had been fast asleep, but he'd woken up as soon as the front door opened. He was ready to grab a gun and shoot whoever dared to break into his home, but as soon as he heard "Ouch! You stepped on my foot, you asshole!" which was immediately followed by a "No, you stepped on my foot!" he put his gun away with a heavy sigh, chuckling to himself when he heard Birdie and the Winchesters bickering as they continued to traipse through the house. Rumsfeld had perked up at the familiar voices and jolted out of the bedroom, more than happy to see Birdie and the boys again.

In the morning, Birdie was the first one awake and had even made the others breakfast (possibly using the rest of Bobby's eggs and bacon), along with starting a fresh batch of coffee. It wasn't long before the others strolled into the room, but half of the coffee was already gone since Birdie started it almost two hours before she actually decided to make breakfast. It was another night full of agonizing nightmares, starring her abusive mother, and Kaiya. Making breakfast had been able to distract her from letting their faces pop up over and over as if on a constant loop. Thankfully though, Birdie slept in the guest room by herself, the boys opting to sleep in the living room so she could have the room to herself——for once. So, no one knew except Felicity. No one else had noticed it or questioned half of the coffee already being gone by the time they all awoke and Birdie was grateful for it. As much as she appreciated their concern, she just preferred not to talk about certain things.

That was a while ago already and Sam and Bobby had left about half an hour ago once Bobby realized he was nearly out of food. Dean chose to stay behind, claiming it was still too early to be awake on a Sunday. He'd disappeared upstairs not long after Sam and Bobby left, and with Rumsfeld deciding to take a nap, too, Birdie decided to try and cure her boredom somehow.

She aimlessly wandered through Bobby's house, eventually finding herself alone in the basement——most certainly not snooping through some of his things she hadn't noticed the last time she was down there.

She was merely. . .satisfying her curiosity.

The boxes she'd taken from Kaiya's house were neatly stacked in the far-off corner with other boxes filled with things Birdie wasn't even what might have been inside (or if she even wanted to know), partially hidden under a tattered tarp. There were some shelves screwed into the opposite wall, cleaning supplies, weapons, ammo, journals with torn and missing pages, and junk scattered on all of the dusty shelves. A cluttered workbench was pushed against another wall with a stool tucked underneath, some rusted tools nudged towards the edge with a smidge of dust collected on the surface as a sign that it hadn't been used in some time. More and more clutter littered Bobby's basement, but it somehow still made Birdie feel safe.

Bobby's house always had that ability ever since she was a small child.

Birdie anxiously bit the inside of her cheek as she gazed at the boxes, her eyes flickering towards a dark green guitar case that was leaning against a shelf. She made her way over and carefully sank to her knees, tilting her head as she grabbed the handle of the case. She laid it on the ground in front of her, taking a few seconds before she finally opened it up. She shifted her legs, moving to rest on her butt as her eyes examined the guitar Kaiya had bought Birdie as an early birthday present.

She'd only used it once——the morning of Kaiya's funeral. Then a week later, she put it in Bobby's basement along with her boxes for safekeeping. She wasn't sure whether it was truly because she needed someplace to properly store it since she had no place to call her own or an actual car to fit it inside, or if she just wasn't really sure about actually using it because it was the last thing she ever got from Kaiya and it would pain her too much to continue looking at.

Birdie hesitated, slowly flicking open the locks. She opened the case, sadly smiling to herself as she peered down at the shiny guitar. It looked the exact same as when she first saw it; Kaiya's note was still stuck to the inside of the lid where Birdie put it when she placed the guitar inside the case. She reached into the case, pulling out the guitar. She carefully placed it on her lap, gently running her fingers over the chords. She smiled to herself, sighing as she stood up with the guitar tightly clutched in her hands as if she were afraid she might drop it and it would shatter into hundreds of pieces.

Kaiya bought it for Birdie to use, not for it to collect dust down in Bobby's basement.

Birdie walked around the stairs, stepping into the panic room. She plopped down on the bed, letting her legs dangle over the edge. She scooted further on the bed, resting her back against the wall. Then she pulled the guitar close to her body, aligning her fingers with the correct strings and positioning her hand along the neck. For as many instruments as Birdie had learned how to play over the years, the guitar was one of her top favorites.

It took some patience to learn——which was something she didn't always have——as she didn't have one growing up so she'd have to use the ones at school or "borrow" some from stores. The guitar, and other instruments, also took time to learn because she had to keep it hidden from Serena. If her mother found out she was practicing other interests instead of doing her school work or studying up for whatever case Serena and Reese were working on. . .

Birdie tilted her head in thought, her eyes skimming over the panic room to see if anything would spark her imagination. The room looked the same as it did the last time she was there, or at least from what she remembered. The last time she was inside the panic room was when Pamela hypnotized Anna and they all found out that she was actually an angel. And, the time before that they'd been dealing with the rising of the witnesses so her mind was a bit too preoccupied to admire all of the decors. She turned her head, doing a double take when she saw a record player on top of one of the filing cabinets near the desk. A box of records was on the ground next to it, over a dozen stuffed inside. The one at the very front was an Air Supply album. That could work.

Birdie pursed her lips, a small grin starting to spread across her lips. Then she began to strum her fingers, a gentle tune starting to fill the room. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes with contentment, playing the tune of All Out of Love by Air Supply. She softly hummed the words to herself, partially moving her head as she did so.

"I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you. I know you were right believing for so long. I'm all out of love, what am I without you? I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong," she softly sang, figuring she could use her voice since there was no one around to actually hear her. Her smile remained on her lips, feeling herself begin to get lost in the song as her fingers skillfully glided along the guitar. "I want you to come back and carry me home, away from these long, lonely nights. I'm reaching for you, are you feeling it too? Does the feeling seem oh-so right? And said that I can't hold on? There's no easy way, it gets harder each day. Please love me or I'll be gone, I'll be gone."

"I'm all out of love, I'm so lost without you!"

Birdie's eyes hastily snapped open as she jumped, letting out a breath of relief when she saw it was only Dean. He had a cheeky grin plastered on his lips, casually leaning in the doorway of the panic room like he didn't just almost give Birdie a heart attack. Birdie shook her head with a small grin, continuing to strum.

"I know you were right believing for so long," Dean sang, nudging his head towards Birdie as a sign for her to continue singing as well.

"I'm all out of love, what am I without you?" Birdie sang along with Dean, playfully rolling her eyes as Dean stepped into the room, doing a small twirl that made Birdie giggle. "I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong."

Birdie played a few more notes, faintly smiling as the song came to a stop. Dean beamed, sinking into the desk chair. Birdie adjusted the guitar so it was laying on her lap and tilted her head as she raised a brow at Dean. "Since when the hell do you like Air Supply? I thought you were only into "rock" music."

"This stays between us," Dean said, pointing a stern finger at Birdie; it only made Birdie's grin widen even more. "And if you say anything to anyone, I'll deny it."

Sure thing, Dean.

Birdie ignored Felicity's comment, acting as if she hadn't heard her. "I won't tell a soul."

Just another secret to add to the list.

Birdie's smile faltered, a large wave of guilt washing over her as Felicity's words echoed inside her head. Just another secret to add to the list.

Just another secret to add to the list.

The more weeks that Birdie went without telling Dean about Felicity, or even her fall that probably should've killed her but didn't which resulted in her needing Felicity's help, the more guilty she felt.

It wasn't the first time she'd kept something hidden from someone, but this was different. Most of her secrets were things she only couldn't tell her mother, things that shouldn't have even needed to be secrets but had to be because Serena didn't like anyone being something she didn't like. Other times Birdie was able to share those secrets with Sam and Dean, or if she couldn't, they seemed to figure it out for themselves. It was a relief Dean hadn't even realized yet, though part of Birdie almost wished he did, or that she would've just told him herself despite knowing he would react poorly to it; at least that way it would be out at least in the open and she wouldn't have to feel so guilty.

Perhaps the guilt was her punishment, though. Hiding things from those she cared about never did any good for anyone, and she was sure to see that for herself.

Dean was always there for her, oftentimes recklessly putting himself in danger for her sake. She had lost count of all the times he had saved her life over the years, including all the patch-ups, making sure she ate more than just Oreos and soda, comforting her after a nightmare, and doing whatever he could to make sure she was alright. Dean trusted her enough with some of his deepest and darkest secrets, yet she couldn't return the favor herself. It made her stomach churn, the feeling you get before you tell a lie; or at least some people get.

But, the feeling never truly left for Birdie.

After all, her lies never stopped coming and Dean always kept believing.

"Hey." Birdie looked up, noticing the look of concern on Dean's face as he stared at her. She'd gotten so lost in her thoughts that she didn't realize Dean had been trying to talk to her. "You doin' alright?"

Birdie softly smiled, nodding her head in response. She moved the guitar, placing it on the bed beside her. "Yeah, I'm just tired s'all. I didn't really sleep last night."

"Do we ever?" Dean asked, raising a brow in Birdie's direction.

She chuckled, folding her arms over her chest. "Are Sam and Bobby back?"

"No, not yet," Dean answered, leaning back in the chair. He lifted his legs, resting them on the desk. "What're you doin' down here? I thought you were taking a nap."

"Me? I thought you were taking a nap," Birdie said. "That's why I came down here."

"To snoop through Bobby's shit and play some guitar?"

"It's not snooping, Dean. It's. . .it's. . .it's not important why I was down here."

Dean snickered, his eyes flickering toward the guitar. "That the one Kai got you?"

Birdie followed his gaze, a soft smile on her lips. "Yeah."

"It's been a while since I've seen you with it," Dean said, catching Birdie's eye.

Birdie silently nodded, letting out a quiet sigh. "Yeah, I just. . .it was too hard to look at, you know?" Dean sadly nodded with a tiny smile. Birdie shifted, pulling one of her knees against her chest while her other leg stayed stretched across the mattress.

"What changed your mind?"

"Kaiya wanted it to be used, not left to rot in a basement because it pained me too much just to look at."

Dean grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling. "She'd probably be pissed to find out it ended up in Bobby's basement then, huh?"

"Oh, definitely," Birdie chuckled, firmly nodding her head.

Dean's smile lingered, but it slowly began to falter as he gazed at Birdie. Her eyes flickered around the panic room, taking in more of the tiny details she'd missed. But, Dean's focus remained on Birdie. She looked a little older, her hair even longer than it was when Dean came back from Hell. It wasn't just the physical differences Dean noticed, though.

For the last few weeks, Dean could tell that there was something different with Birdie. Kaiya's death was sure to be part of it, but. . .it was more than that. It was like there was something else, something he couldn't quite pinpoint because things were so different now. And, it wasn't just Birdie either. There was something off with Sam, too, and not just about him suddenly using his powers or being friends with a demon——Ruby, of all demons at that.

Dean shifted in the chair with a thought, moving his legs and placing his feet back on the ground. Birdie glanced over when she saw Dean move out of the corner of her eye, giving him a faint smile. "Bird. . ." At the tone in Dean's voice, a frown replaced Birdie's smile. "Maybe I'm just bein' paranoid 'cause of everything goin' on, but. . .do you think Sam's hiding something? I mean more than his obvious feelings for you?"

Birdie forced out a laugh, shaking her head. "Dean——"

"Birdie, please," Dean sighed, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "Is there something he's not tellin' me that I should know about?"

Birdie scooted towards the edge of the bed, mimicking Dean's posture. Choose your words carefully, Bird. "Dean, I know things have been kind of. . .it's not the same as it was before, but maybe that's for the best, you know?"

"You mean like working with Ruby?" Dean suggested, raising his brows for emphasis. "Or Sam using his powers? You really think that's for the best?"

Birdie softly sighed and stood up from the bed, running a hand through her curls. She lifted her hand to her neck, fiddling with the necklace that was secured around her neck. She took a few steps to the side, biting the inside of her cheek before she dropped her hand down at her side and turned back around to face Dean again. "Ruby's helped us. . .more times than I honestly care to admit," Birdie said. "And as for Sam's powers? Dean, you know he's not using them anymore."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Why would he lie about it?"

"Well, why didn't he tell me in the first place? Why didn't you?"

Ouch.

Birdie furrowed her brows, shaking her head. "It wasn't my place." Dean shook his head, looking away from Birdie as he scoffed under his breath. "Look, Dean, I'm sorry. Really, I am. I don't know how many more times I can say it before you actually believe it. But, if there's something you need to know, we'll tell you, okay?"

"You sure Sam will?"

"Well, I can't speak for Sam, but I can speak for myself. I won't hide anything from you."

Dean's eyes bored straight into Birdie, a smile appearing on his lips once again. Birdie warmly smiled back, the corners of her eyes crinkling.

Just then, they heard a door shut upstairs, followed by the muffled voices of Sam and Bobby. "Ooh! Beer!" Dean excitedly beamed, shooting up from the chair. He rushed out of the panic room, hurrying up the wooden steps two at a time.

Birdie heavily sighed to herself, closing her eyes.

Sure, you won't hide anything from him.

Birdie opened her eyes, a prominent frown on her lips.

She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep her secret from Dean.

•❃°•°❀°•°❃•

"Triple-stuffed! Oh, fuck yeah! Who got these?"

Bobby raised his brows, glancing aside as he jerked his thumb in Sam's direction. Sam softly smiled, catching Birdie's eye. Birdie's smile widened, holding the package of triple-stuffed Oreos close to her chest. "Samuel William Winchester, I love you." Dean raised a brow in Birdie's direction and she playfully rolled her eyes, shaking her head at what he was trying to insinuate. "In a platonic way."

"Yeah, okay," Dean sarcastically muttered under his breath. Birdie narrowed her eyes, lifting one of her hands to give him the middle finger. Dean opened up his bottle of beer, giving Birdie an amused smirk. "You wish, toots."

Birdie rolled her eyes, huffing as she turned on her heel to head into the living room. Dean loudly laughed from the kitchen, his voice meshing with Sam's as they started to chat; which was mainly Dean pestering Sam if they bought any snacks besides Oreos and how much beer they ended up with. Bobby followed Birdie into the living room, taking a seat at his desk. Birdie sat on the couch next to Rumsfeld, taking a peek at the windows behind her to see that the snow was still falling.

"Yeah, that was a damn bitch to drive in," Bobby said, looking out of the window, too.

"Well, at least you were still able to get the necessities. Thank god," Birdie said, happily holding up the Oreos. Bobby scoffed out a laugh, taking a sip of his beer. Birdie innocently smiled and leaned back on the couch, tucking her legs under herself. Rumsfeld moved his head towards Birdie's lap and she quickly moved the Oreos to her left, giving the rottweiler a pointed look. "Hey, these are mine, not yours," Birdie said. Rumsfeld just continued to stare up at her, his puppy eyes making Birdie's heart instantly melt. "Yes, I know you're cute, but you're not gettin' any of these. But next time I'm here, I'll make you some cookies you can actually have. I promise."

"Birdie." Birdie lifted her head, frowning when she saw the look Bobby was giving her. "He's a dog. He doesn't understand promises, or what the hell a cookie is."

Birdie gaped, reaching over to pet Rumsfeld's head. "Hey, excuse you. He can hear you. And he understands a lot——probably more than Chandler and Joey in there."

"How you doin'?" Birdie turned her head, unable to stop from chuckling when she saw Dean smirking at her. Sam came over with a small smile, holding his beer in one of his hands. "If I'm Joey and Sam's Chandler, does that make you Monica?"

"No," Birdie immediately denied.

"Yeah, Bird's too messy," Bobby teased. "But she is pretty controlling and bossy, though."

Birdie scoffed, giving the older man a sharp stare. "I'm not controlling. And I'm a lot cleaner than you. Look at this place."

Bobby placed his elbows on the table, raising his brows. "And who the hell made all these goddamn messes?"

"Not me," Birdie firmly denied. "It was those two."

"What?" Sam scoffed, holding his hands out. "How was it us?"

"It's always you two," Birdie said. "Or one of you."

Bobby heavily sighed, leaning back in his chair. He pushed some books to the side, glancing between Birdie and the boys. "Any of you idjits find out any more about the seals?" he asked. "Or what the angels are doin' about it?"

"No," Dean answered, shaking his head. He stuffed one of his hands in the pockets of his jeans, taking a small sip of his beer. "I haven't seen 'em in weeks."

"I'm surprised they haven't stopped by now then," Birdie said, looking toward Dean. "They seemed pretty interested in you the last time, especially Cas."

Dean rolled his eyes at that. "He and Uriel tried to kill us last time, remember?"

Birdie just sighed in response, opening up her package of Oreos. "Well, we can't just wait around for them to tell us which one's next," Bobby said, glancing between Birdie and the boys. "Or where it's gonna be."

"Do you know how to figure out which one they'll go after next?" Sam wondered.

"If I did, you think I'd be wastin' time by asking you three chuckleheads if you heard anything?" Bobby retorted.

Birdie snickered, biting into one of her Oreos. Rumsfeld huffed, simply resting his head on Birdie's lap in defeat. He knew he wasn't going to get a cookie. Sam softly sighed, stealing a glance over at Dean. "We're still lookin'," Dean said. "But these demons are keepin' a tight lid on it."

"Fuckin' demons," Birdie muttered, taking out another Oreo.

Dean stood up straight and stepped over, expectantly holding his hand out to Birdie. Birdie raised a brow, watching Dean give her a cheeky smile. "Get your own goddamn Oreos," Birdie said, lightly smacking his hand away.

"Oh, come on," Dean groaned, holding his hand out towards her again. "You gotta share."

"The fuck I do," Birdie said, pulling the Oreos closer to herself.

Bobby heavily sighed, shaking his head. He knew he shouldn't have let Sam put them in the cart.

Sam smirked to himself and walked over, holding his hand out. "What about one for your favorite Winchester?" he asked.

"I don't have a favorite Winchester," Birdie said, not making any move to give either Winchester a cookie.

"That's not what you said before."

"Oh, for fuck sake," Birdie grumbled, begrudgingly grabbing two Oreos. She handed one to Dean and then gave the other one to Sam, shooting them both sharp glares as she did. "You two are real shitheads, you know that?"

"You've said that once or twice," Dean hummed, happily biting into his Oreo.

Birdie glanced over at Bobby, giving him a small smile. "You want one, too?"

He chuckled, folding his arms over his chest as he leaned back in his chair. "No thanks, Bird."

Birdie shrugged her shoulders, sighing to herself as she grabbed another one for herself.

"How much longer do you guys think it's gonna snow?" Sam asked, catching sight of the flakes fluttering past the windows. It was supposed to stop by the next day, but it appeared to only become more steady as the hours passed.

"Too fuckin' long," Bobby grumbled.

"I know. My baby doesn't like the snow," Dean said, taking another bite out of his Oreo. "She prefers the rain. Nature's car wash."

"Oh, please," Birdie snickered. "She can barely make it across the bridge when it rains because of the flooding."

"At least she can handle the water," Dean retorted, giving Birdie a sharp glare.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Birdie snapped, knitting her eyebrows together as she stared back at the older man.

"You don't even know how to swim!"

"Woah," Bobby interjected, raising his brows when Dean looked over at him. Birdie gaped, placing a hand over her heart with clear offense. Dean turned his head, noticing the look Bobby was giving him for bringing up the fact Birdie couldn't swim. "That's a little harsh, don'tcha think?"

Birdie warmly smiled. "Thanks, Bobby."

"Oh, come on. She makes jokes about it all the time!" Dean defended, holding his hands out at his sides. "I'm just havin' some fun."

"You know it's not my fault I don't know how to swim," Birdie said, pointing her Oreo at him before she took a bite out of it.

"And whose fault is it?"

"My mother's," Birdie instantly replied. Dean shook his head, dismissively waving his hand at the younger woman as he took one last sip out of his beer; there was no beating that response. Birdie victoriously humphed, biting into another Oreo. "Want another oreo, you big baby?" Birdie wondered, holding one out to him.

"No, but I do need another beer," Dean said, holding up his empty bottle. Then he turned on his heel, heading towards the fridge.

Sam quietly sighed, stepping forward and moving around the coffee table. He sat on the opposite end of the couch, nudging one of Rumsfeld's feet out of his way so he didn't sit on it. Then Sam lifted his legs, propping them up on the coffee table. Birdie glanced over at him, giving him a small grin when he looked over. "How's your shoulder?" Birdie curiously wondered.

Sam shifted, slightly moving his shoulder. "It's better."

"The stitches could probably come out now," Birdie said.

Sam shrugged, his eyes flickering toward Bobby when he stood up and headed into the kitchen. "I'll do it later."

"Oooooooor I could just do it now," Birdie suggested, wiggling her eyebrows.

Sam faced Birdie, raising a brow. "So you can use it as some kind of payback for all the times I had to do it to you?"

Birdie faked a laugh, rolling her eyes as she pushed herself onto her feet. She set the Oreos on the table, making sure they were closed in case Rumsfeld attempted to take one for himself. "Very funny. Come on, Samuel."

"Where are you gonna take me?"

"The bathroom. . ." Birdie said, giving Sam an odd look. "I don't think Bobby wants your blood on his couch."

"You got that right," Bobby chimed in from the kitchen, giving them a look as he glanced over his shoulder at them.

Birdie held out her hand and Sam softly sighed, reluctantly taking Birdie's hand. Birdie quickly pulled him onto his feet and Sam placed his drink on the coffee table, glancing into the kitchen at Dean and Bobby as Birdie started to tug him towards the stairs. Dean suggestively wiggled his eyebrows and Sam huffed under his breath, rolling his eyes at his brother's antics. Birdie didn't pay any attention and tugged Sam up the stairs, letting go of his hand as they reached the second floor.

Sam silently followed Birdie down the hall, stepping into the bathroom moments after Birdie. Birdie shut the door behind her and then motioned for Sam to take a seat on the toilet lid. "Bird, really, I'm fine——"

"I'll believe it when I see it for myself," Birdie replied, giving Sam a stern stare.

He sighed, shrugging off his flannel and placing it in his lap. Birdie glanced over as she stood in front of the sink, subtly taking another look when she saw Sam take off his undershirt to make it easier for Birdie to see his wound.

Damn. He really is——

"Shut up, shut up," Birdie quickly said, turning her head to face forward. She could feel Sam's eyes on her, knowing his brows were most likely furrowed together. Birdie sheepishly smiled as she slowly turned her head, seeing Sam giving her an odd look. "Uh, I-I was just talkin' to Felicity. She's been a real chatterbox lately."

Excuse you, I——

"Yeah? What's she saying?"

"Nothing important, or useful," Birdie said, giving Sam another smile. "Like usual."

Says you.

Sam softly chuckled, his eyes remaining focused on Birdie. He stared up at her as she stepped over and reached forward, carefully peeling the bandage from his shoulder. Sam turned his head, noticing it was nearly healed. "See?" he asked, looking up at Birdie again with a small smirk spreading across his face. "Told you it was fine."

"Yeah, yeah," Birdie grumbled, playfully rolling her eyes. "Do you want me to take the stitches out then? Or if you really wanna wait, that's fine."

"No, no. Let's-let's just get it over with," Sam replied. "You'll just keep pestering me about it if I don't let you be the one to do it."

Birdie beamed. "Damn right."

Birdie moved towards the sink, crouching down to grab some medical supplies from the cabinet below. She pulled out a first aid kit, setting it on top of the sink. She grabbed some extra bandages, cotton swabs, and rubbing alcohol, too, placing them beside the first aid kit. Then she stood up and opened the kit, fully aware that Sam's eyes were curiously watching her as she did so. She grabbed the tweezers and set them beside the bandages. She spotted some small scissors hidden under some large bandages and she grabbed them as well, setting them next to the tweezers. "Oh, and look, Sammy," Birdie said, picking up the rubbing alcohol, "The shit we're actually supposed to use."

Sam chuckled. "Good thing Bobby's always prepared."

Birdie's smile lingered on her lips as she grabbed a hand towel from under the sink, softly sighing to herself. She held the towel under the faucet for a few seconds, dabbing some soap onto it as she turned off the sink. Then she faced Sam. "I'm gonna warn you, the water's kinda cold," she said, holding the towel a few inches away from Sam's shoulder.

"I think I can handle it," Sam said.

"Okay then," Birdie said, and then she gently pressed it to his shoulder. Sam sucked in a sharp breath, eyes darting to Birdie. "Told you so."

Sam breathed out a faint laugh, glancing aside. Birdie carefully dabbed at the wound to make sure it was clean, vaguely remembering where she had to do the same thing to her mother or father when she was younger. Then she sat the towel off to the side and stepped in front of the sink again, glancing over the supplies. She set the scissors and tweezers in the sink, dripping some rubbing alcohol onto them to sterilize them. She moved closer to Sam again and he leaned back some, allowing her a better look at the stitches. Birdie's eyes involuntarily flickered to his torso, but she quickly focused on the task at hand before Sam could notice.

"Be gentle," Sam said just as Birdie went to grab part of the stitches with the tweezers. Birdie furrowed her brows, tilting her head as she stared at Sam. "Well, I-I know how excited you get about doing this——"

"What kind of friend do you take me for?" Birdie asked with obvious offense. "Samuel, if I wanted to hurt you, I think there's better ways to do it than this. Besides, I'm always gentle."

"No you're not," Sam said, already having a list of times she wasn't so careful when dealing with wounds.

Birdie huffed, pursing her lips together. "I'll be gentle, okay? Unless, of course, you piss me off."

"You wouldn't," Sam said.

Birdie glanced at Sam, leaning down just a little more to get a closer look at the stitches. "Maybe I would, maybe I wouldn't."

Sam's dimples poked out as he started to smile. Birdie bit back her smile from allowing it to grow any bigger, instead focusing all of her attention on the stitches. She certainly didn't intend to hurt him, but she did need to focus to make sure she didn't accidentally do something she wasn't supposed to.

Sam glanced around the bathroom as Birdie started to gently pull up each knot, occasionally stealing a look at Birdie to see she was very focused. She kept her gaze on the stitches and grabbed the scissors, beginning to snip each of the stitches. Then she lightly tugged on the threads, smoothly removing the sutures from the skin.

Birdie beamed, standing up straight and holding up the stitches. "See? That didn't hurt."

"Actually——"

"Hey!" Birdie gaped, her giggle meshing with Sam's loud laugh.

"I'm kidding. That actually went a lot better than I thought it would," Samz said, tilting his head when Birdie shot him a look as she grabbed a cotton ball to clean the wound one last time. "I just meant I-I wasn't entirely sure if they were ready to come out. But they were."

"Nice cover," Birdie snickered, dabbing some of the alcohol onto the cotton ball. She moved back over to Sam, giving him a tiny smile. Then she gently cleaned the wound, chuckling when Sam sucked in another sharp breath; the alcohol was even colder than the water somehow. When Birdie finally finished, she tossed the cotton ball in the trash can, wiping her hands off on her jeans. "You might want some strips over it just to make sure it doesn't reopen or anything."

"Yeah, sure," Sam nodded in agreement.

Birdie stretched her arm and grabbed some adhesive strips from the first aid kit. She tore open the strips one at a time, carefully applying them over the wound. Afterward, she grabbed a large bandage and put it on as another precaution.

Birdie grinned, placing her hands on her hips. "There. Isn't that better?"

"Yeah, thanks, Bird," Sam said, giving her a warm smile. He picked up his undershirt and pulled it on over his head, quietly sighing as he started to slip his flannel on next. Birdie stepped around him and sat down on the edge of the bathtub, twisting her lips in thought. She pushed some hair out of her face, softly chuckling when Sam glanced over at her when he felt her gaze on him. "What?"

"Nothing. I just. . .if I would've been told this is where we'd be now the day you and Dean saved me from those vampires, I would've just laughed," Birdie replied, laughing under her breath.

Sam chuckled as well, nodding his head. "Yeah, me too."

Birdie sighed a few seconds later, resting her elbows on her knees with her eyes still pinned on Sam. "Uh, you know, just before you and Bobby got back. . .Dean asked me if you were hiding anything from him."

Sam knitted his brows, a frown appearing on his lips. "If I was hiding something from him?" Birdie nodded. Sam scoffed, shaking his head as he faced forward. "I'm not. . .I mean——"

"I told him you weren't——well, actually, I technically didn't answer him now that I think about it. I just kinda. . .changed the topic," Birdie said. "But, I did tell him if there was something he needed to know, we'd tell him."

"And what might that be?" Sam wondered.

"Nothing yet," Birdie said, figuring that he thought she was hinting that they needed to come clean about some things. "I don't like hiding things from him, or anyone I care about, but he's got enough on his plate already. I'm sure as hell not gonna add to it by tellin' him about Felicity, or how she even came around——" That hurts my feelings, Big Bird. "And I'm sure as shit not gonna tell him about. . ."

"Yeah," Sam softly said, already knowing what Birdie meant. "Um, has-has Felicity said anything about it lately?"

Do you want me to step in?

"No," Birdie said, quickly clearing her throat when Sam raised his brows at her. "Sorry. She. . .she asked if I wanted her to step in."

"That wasn't part of the deal," Sam said, speaking to Felicity.

Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know. Buzzkill.

Birdie sighed with a small smile. "She called you a buzzkill."

Sam scoffed under his breath, leaning back slightly. A moment of silence washed over them, Sam's eyes boring into the wall in front of him as his thoughts raced through his mind. "Birdie, I-I. . .if you're not-if you're not comfortable doing it anymore——"

"Sam," Birdie softly interjected, giving Sam a small smile when he looked over at her, "I trust you with my life. There isn't anything in this world that I wouldn't do for you."

"But this——"

"This is what's helping you save countless lives," Birdie said, her smile unwavering as she softly gazed back at Sam. "It's okay, Sam."

Sam's eyes remained locked with hers for a few seconds, a small smile appearing on his face. Then he sighed, pushing some hair out of his face. "This'll never get any less awkward, will it?" he quietly asked.

Birdie chuckled, nonchalantly shrugging her shoulders. "It's only awkward if you make it awkward."

Sam chuckled along with her, letting out a quiet sigh. He glanced down at the tiled floor beneath his feet, almost as if he was afraid to do anything else.

"Sam," Birdie whispered. Her voice made him look over again, watching her reach down to pull out a knife she had safely holstered at her waist. She held it out to him, nodding her head for him to take it when he hesitated. "It's okay. I promise."

Sam quietly sighed, slowly taking the knife into his hand. Birdie shifted on the edge of the tub, eyeing Sam as he fiddled with the knife between his fingers. He let out a shaky breath, meeting Birdie's eye. "Can you. . .can you not watch?"

Birdie tilted her head, frowning. "Sam, you——"

"I know, I know, but I just. . .please, Bird?" Sam asked, his eyes pleading with Birdie's.

Birdie pursed her lips together for a few moments, reluctantly nodding her head. "Alright."

About time.

Birdie didn't respond to Felicity. Instead, she rolled up one of the sleeves of her flannel, stopping just past her elbow. She gave Sam a small smile of encouragement, holding her arm out towards him. The corner of Sam's lips curled into the faintest smile, setting the knife in his lap. He glanced down at her arm and then back at Birdie. He raised his brows and Birdie playfully rolled her eyes before she turned her head to look in the opposite direction.

Birdie still remembered the first time they did this, and she didn't think she would ever forget it either. It took quite some time for Felicity to convince both Sam and Birdie, using Lilith still being out there and Sam needing to get strong enough to kill her as one of the main benefits to even consider doing such a thing. Ruby had pestered them about it over and over whenever she found herself in the same town as Sam and Birdie, claiming they were running out of time to stop Lilith once and for all. But, once Sam was on board, so was Birdie. Ruby and Felicity expected Ruby to be the one to help Sam, yet it was Birdie who suggested maybe it was Felicity instead; that way Birdie would be the one to do it in a way——someone Sam already knew and trusted. And at the time, Birdie still didn't trust Ruby as much and thought it would help to put some distance between them and the demon.

"Okay," Sam breathed out, his voice a warning to Birdie so she knew he was about to use the knife. She only nodded in response, waiting to feel the cool feeling of the metal brush against her skin.

You're doing great, Birdie.

Seconds later, Birdie felt it.

She didn't flinch, only biting her tongue as the metal carefully cut into her skin. It still stung as she expected, though she could handle it. She felt her blood begin to ooze from the wound, Sam's soft lips pressing against her arm a few moments later. She kept her focus on the wall beside her, her chin casually resting on her hand as if it was merely something normal; in a way, it had almost become a normal part of their lives.

She understood Sam's reasons for not wanting her to look or watch, yet she couldn't help but feel a little hurt by it. It wasn't like it would make her think poorly of him or see him in a different way. She'd seen him at some of his lowest points in his life and she still loved and cared about him.

There wasn't anything that would ever change that.

When Sam finally pulled away, Birdie partially turned her head to see if he was done. Sam glanced over when she did, seeing Birdie's eyes immediately dart away as if she hadn't stolen a glance at him. Sam quietly chuckled, letting go of Birdie's arm. "It's okay," he said, using the towel to wipe some of the blood off his face. "All done."

Birdie faintly smiled, watching Sam stand up. "How do you feel now?" Birdie wondered.

"Better. Thanks."

"Good," Birdie said. She stole a look at her arm, noticing there was some blood smudged around the cut. There was some blood still trickling down her arm, making its way down her forearm. "Can you hand me the——"

"Oh, yeah." Sam snatched up the towel, quickly handing it to Birdie. "Uh, let me grab a ban——"

"You might wanna clean your face first," Birdie said as she gently pressed the towel to her cut. "I don't think we can bullshit our way out of it if someone were to barge in right now."

Sam glanced at himself in the mirror, realizing there was still some blood smudged on the side of his mouth. Sam reluctantly sighed, nodding his head. "I'll be quick."

"There's no rush," Birdie said. "You do remember that Felicity can do some of the work, too?"

"She's sure takin' her sweet time," Sam said, casting a look at Birdie that was meant for Felicity. "She and Ruby said she wouldn't have to be around this long."

Tell him I don't like this any more than he does, but it's hard to heal you when you're constantly getting hurt.

"She knows. . .but it's hard when I'm constantly getting hurt," Birdie replied. "Even though that's not usually my fault. . ."

"Isn't it dangerous for her, and you, the longer she's in you?"

Ah, yes. But it won't be like this much longer——I'm getting stronger along with you. It'll only be like this just for a little bit longer, Bird. I promise.

"She says it won't be like this much longer," Birdie said, giving Sam a small smile.

Sam's eyes curiously examined Birdie's face for any sign of hesitation like he was wondering if there was something she was keeping from him that Felicity said, but there wasn't any. He partially returned her smile and faced forward, turning the faucet on. He leaned his head down, placing his mouth under the running water. Birdie raised her brows in amusement as he swished it around in his mouth before spitting it back out in the sink, rubbing his hand over his mouth to wipe off the excess water. He examined his teeth in the mirror, silently nodding his head in approval. Once he was done, he dabbed at his face with a new towel he grabbed from under the sink and hung it up.

"How's that?" Sam wondered, holding his hands out at his sides while brightly smiling.

Birdie giggled, nodding her head. "Much better."

Sam chuckled as well and pushed some of the medical supplies closer to the edge of the sink, taking a seat on the toilet again. "You mind if I patch you up now?" Sam wondered, amusement etched in his voice.

"I guess it's alright," Birdie dramatically sighed, removing the towel from her arm. Sam smiled and took it from her, setting it in the sink. "Be gentle, though."

"Always am," Sam said, quoting Birdie.

Birdie's smile involuntarily widened, the corners of her eyes crinkling as she gazed back at Sam. Sam's dimples poked out and he looked down, starting to open the first aid kit to get some more bandages.

"What the hell's taking you guys so long?"

Birdie's eyes instantly widened, hearing Dean's voice coming from the other end of the hall. The floorboards creaked as Dean made his way toward the bathroom and Birdie felt her heart rate double in a matter of seconds. Sam's expression was identical to Birdie's, suddenly unsure how to lie their way out of the situation.

Dean was too close to lock the door in time or even clean up the supplies. If Birdie were to pull her sleeve down, the blood would be able to be seen through it as her flannel was mainly white with only a few yellow stripes; it wouldn't have done anything to hide the blood stains.

However, there was one thing Birdie knew that could distract Dean for certain and make him focus on just that.

"Sam," Birdie whispered, reaching forward and taking the first aid kit from him as she stood up to place it back on the edge of the sink.

"What?"

"Kiss me."

Sam's eyes tripled in size.

She didn't just say what he thought she did.

"What?" Sam whispered in disbelief.

"Kiss me," Birdie rushed out, fervently nodding her head. No, Sam heard her correctly.

Dean's footsteps were growing closer, the sound echoing in Birdie's ears. He was nearly right outside the door.

"It'll distract him."

"But━━━"

"Sam? Bird?"

Sam quickly reached forward, grabbing Birdie by the hips. She gasped as he pulled her onto his lap, their faces inches apart. Sam's hands remained on Birdie's waist, his heart thumping in his chest. "You sure about this?" he rushed out in a whisper.

The doorknob jiggled before Birdie had the chance to respond and both Sam and Birdie leaned forward. Sam pulled Birdie closer as she dropped her right arm at her side, hiding the cut from Dean's line of sight. The door opened seconds later, Dean's jaw dropping as much as it could when he saw what was supposedly taking Sam and Birdie so long to check Sam's shoulder.

"I fucking knew it!" Dean shouted. Birdie quickly pulled away, her wide eyes meeting Dean's. Dean shook his head with disbelief, a bright smile appearing on his lips. "Wow, about damn time. I was beginning to think I'd have to die again for you two to finally get together."

"Dean, get out!" Birdie groaned, waving her hand at him.

He just chuckled, giving Sam a proud wink. "Atta boy."

"Just go," Sam huffed, shaking his head.

Dean loudly laughed again, happily closing the door behind him.

Birdie let out a heavy sigh of relief, resting her forehead against Sam's shoulder for a few seconds. "I guess he bought it then, huh?" Sam asked, chuckling.

Birdie laughed, leaning back to face Sam. "Yeah, I guess so. He's probably on his way to tell Bobby right now."

"Oh, definitely," Sam nodded.

Birdie softly sighed, silently looking at Sam. His hands were still clutching her hips, their bodies nearly meshing together because of their newfound closeness. "You know. . .we probably should've thought this through more."

"Why? Dean's not——" Birdie raised her brows, giving Sam a pointed look as he spoke. "Yeah. . ."

"Now what're we gonna do?" Birdie wondered. "Are we just gonna say this is a fling, or. . .it's actually something?"

Sam sighed, thinking for a few moments before he faced Birdie again. "I don't think he'd believe it's just a one-time thing."

"Really? What do you think he'd believe?"

"Well, who does he always compare us to?"

"Literally any and every couple he can possibly think of," Birdie replied.

Sam nodded. "Exactly. So, let's give him that."

"Wait, are you suggesting——"

"I mean, not for real, but——"

"So you'd be my fake boyfriend, and I'd be your fake girlfriend?"

Sam shrugged. "Yeah. . .unless you don't want to——"

"Sure."

Sam raised his brows. "Really?"

"Yeah," Birdie nonchalantly shrugged, softly smiling. "I can tell Dean you're the Dick Grayson to my Barbara Gordon."

Sam chuckled, shaking his head. "I'm sure he'd love that."

Birdie giggled, momentarily raising her brows. She peered at Sam, suddenly remembering that she was still sitting on his lap. She sheepishly laughed, feeling her cheeks heat up as she quickly stood up. "Oh, sorry. . ."

"It-it's okay," Sam said, standing up as well. He partially turned, his eyes widening when he realized he'd yet to bandage her arm as more blood trickled down to her wrist. "Oh, shit, uh, Bird, sit."

Sam reached forward, stepping to the side as he gently nudged her to sit on the toilet lid. He grabbed the towel off the sink, wetting part of it before he sat down on the edge of the tub where Birdie had previously been seated.

"Sam, you know, I can ju——"

lI can do it," Sam said, giving Birdie a pointed look. "It's my fault, anyways."

"Sam——"

"You've done enough for me already, Bird. Just let me do this."

Birdie softly sighed, nodding her head. Sam gently dabbed at the wound, doing his best not to hurt Birdie. "Thank you," Birdie softly said.

"You're welcome, Bird."

Once he was done cleaning the wound, he set the towel beside him. Then Birdie handed him the first aid kit and he set it in his lap, rummaging through it for the correct supplies. He grabbed the bandage roll out of the box, giving Birdie a small smile as she held her arm out towards him again. Sam began to carefully wrap the bandage around the cut, taking his time as he did so to make sure he did it right and didn't accidentally hurt Birdie. Birdie just silently watched him, occasionally catching snippets of Dean and Bobby's voices from downstairs; she was certain now that Dean had told Bobby what he walked in on just minutes ago.

Sam finished wrapping the bandage not long after, carefully placing a few pieces of tape on the bandage to make sure it wouldn't come undone. It really wouldn't take long for Birdie's wound to heal because of Felicity's help, but Sam still wanted to patch Birdie up just in case, though.

Birdie grinned and pulled her arm back to rest in her lap, watching Sam stand up as she carefully pushed her sleeve back down. Sam grabbed the towel and the first aid kit, giving Birdie a small smile. "No complaints?" Sam asked.

"Oh, ha, ha," Birdie fake laughed, rolling her eyes. "Very funny."

Sam chuckled, tossing the towel in the hamper tucked away in the closet. "Um, if they mention it, the blood on that towel is mine."

"Okay," Birdie said, nodding her head. Sam nodded as well and crouched in front of the sink, putting all of the medical supplies away.

Birdie ran a hand through her hair, softly sighing as she gazed back at Sam. "Do you——"

"Hey, are you kids about done up there yet?"

"I use that bathroom too, ya know!"

Birdie rolled her eyes, scoffing under her breath as Dean and Bobby's voices echoed up the stairs. "I'm beginning to regret this already," she murmured.

Sam chuckled. "It's too late to back out now."

"Sam! Birdie! Come on already!"

"You go ahead," Birdie sighed. "I still have to use the bathroom."

"Oh, yeah, okay." Sam started to turn away, but Birdie reached to grab his arm to stop him. Sam turned, facing her. "Yeah?"

"Um, wait. . ." Birdie reached up, running her hands through Sam's hair to make it slightly messy. Then she reached down, readjusting his flannel so it appeared as if it was put on in a rush. Sam raised his brows as he closely watched Birdie, catching her eye. "It might make it more believable."

"More believable than seeing us kissing?"

"It just adds more authenticity," Birdie said, crinkling some of Sam's shirt. "And if Dean's not gonna stop talking about this, might as well make it interesting."

"Do you want me to——"

"Oh, yeah," Birdie quickly nodded, expectantly peering up at Sam. He reached his hands out, furrowing his brows as he hesitated. Birdie chuckled, raising a brow. "Sam, you have done this before, haven't you?"

"This? No, this-this is a first," Sam said.

Birdie cooed and Sam rolled his eyes. "I'm your first? Aw, Sammy."

"Shut up," Sam grumbled, touching some of Birdie's hair and adjusting some of her curls so they appeared messier. Birdie giggled as he did so, feeling him move some individual strands like he wasn't exactly sure how to make her hair messy without making it look like it'd been done that way on purpose. He moved his hands, scrunching up some of her flannel around her shoulders. "There. I. . .think that works."

Birdie hummed with approval. "Thanks, Sam. Now, get out. I actually do need to use the bathroom."

"Oh, right," Sam quickly said. He hurried over to the door, offering Birdie a sheepish smile as he slipped out and closed the door behind him.

Birdie let out a content sigh, shaking her head. She turned her head, looking at her reflection. She took a few steps closer to the sink, reaching up to gently touch her lips.

Damn. He's a pretty good kisser.

Birdie lowered her hand, humming as she nodded.

Truthfully, Felicity wasn't wrong.

⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅

MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!! 🎄🎁 HERE IS MY PRESENT TO Y'ALL HEHE!!!

Once again I would just like to thank the wonderfulAmara ( latte-to-go) for helping me with yet again another chapter 😭 She could probably be considered a co-author or something at this point <3

But yay, here is chapter 34!!!! And wow a lot happened in this chapter 😅! But I hope y'all still enjoyed it! I did not at all intend for the fake dating to be apart of this book whatsoever, but I guess Sam and Birdie took control when I was writing it so that is what happened lmao. But, as for Sam drinking the demon blood, I did change it to Birdie which I hope y'all don't mind. I don't like how the show kinda sexualized it every time they showed it with Sam and Ruby, so I thought I would have it be Birdie instead of Ruby. And I am NOT trying to or planning to sexualize it. And, if was mentioned how it's dangerous for Felicity to be in Birdie for so long, but it will be fully explained/mentioned more because I don't wanna keep confusing you guys and leaving you waiting for answers!!

And I tried my best with explaining how they removed Sam's stitches, however I'm not a doctor and google isn't ALWAYS helpful or accurate, so if it's wrong, oh well 😅.

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