CHAPTER TWELVE:
MYSTERY SPOT.

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"RISE AND SHINE, SAMMY!"

Birdie giggled in amusement as she stole a glance over her shoulder, seeing a groggy Sam slowly blinking towards Dean as he was abruptly awoken by the clock that was placed on the bedside table in between the two beds. Heat of the Moment by Asia loudly blared from the clock and filled the entire room that morning. Dean brightly smiled as he sat on the bed opposite of Sam, tying his boots as he continued to get ready for the day ahead of them. Birdie still had to get changed out of her flimsy pajamas and try to tame her curls that were falling out of her bun more than she would've preferred. Her bag was placed on the table, some clothes spewing out from inside after she'd rummaged through it a few minutes ago to try and find an outfit; she'd stopped when she couldn't find a nice shirt and opted to brush her teeth and fix up her appearance before changing her clothes. Her eyes briefly fell on her boots that were kicked off near the bathroom door, brows furrowing together; they'd been bought with some of the money she'd stolen from Bela. At the mere thought, Birdie huffed, brows angrily knitting together as she scrubbed at her teeth.

Almost two weeks had passed since Bela managed to steal the Colt from Sam and Dean, and they were nowhere near close to finding the woman. Anytime they thought they had something even remotely close to involving Bela's whereabouts, it turned out to be a dead-end that made them have to start all over again. It was growing more and more tiresome, the lack of progress starting to show in Dean as he was becoming increasingly aggravated that they hadn't found anything useful yet. Birdie had contacted a few hunters she'd met through her parents and asked for them to contact her or one of the boys if they had seen or heard from Bela; she knew it was a long shot as Bela was more than capable of paying off other hunters to remain silent about being in contact her with her or giving a fake name, but it was still worth a shot. And, with not having anything to really off the Winchesters to help their search aside from snarky comments and knife throwing contests, she herself was starting to grow more frustrated by both the situation and herself.

Part of her wondered if some of it was coming from the things her mother had said to her in her nightmares, but she'd barely acknowledged what she'd gone through, putting all of her focus on trying to locate Bela.

She could tell that Sam was still concerned after what he'd seen inside her head for what felt like weeks, but Birdie assured him that she'd open up once she was ready. He was expecting her to have done it already, but he didn't want to push her; which Birdie was thankful for since she didn't exactly want to think about her mother——not yet, anyway.

As soon as Bela's smug smile popped into her mind, Birdie deeply frowned, spitting out the toothpaste——specifically hers as the boys' pack of toothpaste looked absolutely disgusting and she refused to let them use hers——into the sink. Then she reached off to the side, grabbing her travel-size bottle of mouthwash as she placed her toothbrush beside her small bag of toothpaste, dental floss, breath mints, and q-tips.

"Dude. Asia?" She heard Sam ask with a disapproving tone, catching sight of Sam giving Dean a look when she stole a glimpse at them in the mirror.

"Come on. You love this song and you know it."

"Yeah, and if I ever hear it again I'm gonna kill myself," Sam replied, visibly annoyed as the song continued to play. Birdie softly smiled as she swished the mouthwash around in her mouth, faintly shaking her head.

Dean reached over to the clock, turning up the volume with Sam's groggy eyes still pinned to his older brother. "What? Sorry, I can't hear you."

Sam breathed out a laugh, tiredly shaking his head in amusement when Dean started to bop his head along to the beat. Birdie quickly spit out the tangy blue mouthwash, chuckling to herself as she watched the brothers through the mirror. Dean mouthed along to the words, pointing towards Sam as he did so.

Birdie dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a towel, turning towards the brothers and folding her arms over her chest with amusement obvious on her features. "You two are something else," she said, glancing aside towards Sam as a smile lingered on her wet lips.

Dean just chuckled and stood up from the bed, heading towards the sink to brush his teeth. Birdie playfully poked his nose as she walked to the other side of the bed that she was sharing with Dean——she attempted to sleep on the couch, but after nearly falling off the narrow surface in the middle of the night, she'd went to Dean's bed and plopped down beside him while only muttering for him to stay on his side when his head abruptly shot up from the sudden movement——and grabbed her bag from off the table, plopping it down on the bed to find some decent clothes to wear; hopefully, she'd suddenly find something she actually liked.

Sam shared a knowing look with Birdie when her eyes flickered over to him, reaching over to turn off the radio. Birdie's lips curled into a small smile, grabbing a floral, button-up blouse and a pair of blue jeans to put on. "Come on, Sammy, live a little," she teased, tucking the clothes under her arm after picking out some balled-up socks. "That song isn't that bad."

Sam scoffed in disbelief, rolling his eyes once again.

"I knew there was a reason I always liked you," Dean cheekily commented, peering over his shoulder towards the younger woman as he grabbed his own toothbrush.

Birdie scoffed, cocking a brow as she made her way towards the bathroom to change in privacy. "No you didn't," she said.

Dean thought for a moment, faintly shrugging. "Well, yeah, but. . .it's not like we hated each other, right?" Birdie simply gave him a look before entering the bathroom and closing the door behind her. Dean stood up straight as Birdie purposely ignored his question, staring at the closed door. "Right, Bird?"

Sam slipped a flannel over his plain gray shirt, coming up beside Dean with a smug expression written on his face. "I think that's your answer."

Birdie chuckled under her breath as she heard Dean grumble out a response to his little brother, hearing him call her a little shit but she was lucky he actually enjoyed having her around. She let out a faint sigh, setting her clothes on the sink before she began to change out of her pajamas. She could faintly hear the brothers softly talking just outside the door, the water from the sink running as they both started to brush their teeth at the double sinks. Birdie twisted her lips and let her clothes drop to the floor. She kicked them to the side, grimacing in disgust when she saw a pair of boxers just off to the side of her foot. "Oh, god," she quietly groaned, scrunching up her nose as she nudged it away with her toe. She shuddered afterward and stepped away, slipping her bra on. Then she tugged on her shirt and jeans, puffing out her cheeks once she was fully dressed. She picked up her clothes and then opened the door, halting in the doorway as she saw Dean standing in front of the sink with his head thrown back, gurgling some mouthwash to rinse out his mouth. Birdie shook her head, glancing between the brothers. "Which one of you left your underwear by the shower?"

Dean spit out the water into the sink, flashing Birdie a cheeky smile as he dabbed at the corners of his mouth with the hand towel. "What? It's not like you haven't seen 'em before."

Birdie sharply narrowed her eyes. "Yeah, and I have to bleach my eyes every time I do."

"You know how many bras of yours I've had to see over the years?" Dean retorted, eyes following Birdie as she returned to the bed to place her pajamas back in her bag.

"Are you actually complaining about that?" Birdie questioned him, a small smirk working onto her lips. Dean's lips smacked shut at the question, thinking for a moment. Sam shook his head as a laugh left his lips, wiping his mouth after he finished up brushing his teeth. Birdie raised her brows at Dean, standing straight up, placing her hands on her hips. "Well?"

"No, I'm not, but see?" Dean said, pointing a finger at her with a stern expression on his face. "You don't hear me complainin' about your bras I gotta see, so, suck it up, buttercup."

"You suck it up," Birdie snapped.

"I told you first," Dean countered.

"And I told you━━━"

Sam heavily sighed, standing next to Dean. "How about breakfast?"

Dean turned his head, patting Sam's shoulder as he quickly changed the subject to something he knew Dean and Birdie wouldn't object to. Then he turned in the direction of the bathroom, but not before pointing his finger at Birdie. "This isn't over."

Birdie feigned fear, holding her hands out and shaking them. "Ooooh, I'm sooo scared."

"Just go," Sam huffed with a laugh, giving Dean a nudge towards the bathroom.

Birdie chuckled and plopped down on the bed to put on a pair of socks just as the bathroom door shut. Sam pushed some hair out of his eyes, sitting at the end of the same bed. Birdie lifted her head when she felt it dip, offering Sam a playful grin. "When was the last time I woke up before you?"

"Uh, the day after my 21st birthday," Sam answered.

Birdie loudly laughed, playfully rolling her eyes. "Very funny, Samuel, but you do remember that I actually did wake up before you that day, right?"

"Everyone woke up before me," Sam reminded her.

Birdie snickered, her eyes shimmering as memories of Sam's 21st birthday from almost four years ago quickly flashed in her mind. She turned her head to face him, her smile widening. "You'd think sneaking bottles from Bobby's stash would've prepared you better, but——"

"You're one to talk," Sam countered, giving the younger woman a look. She deeply frowned, causing Sam's brows to raise. "Do you even remember your 21st?"

Birdie gaped with obvious offense, stammering. "I, well, I mean——it was my 21st, Sam. It's not my job to remember it, it's the people around me."

Sam chuckled, his laughter meshing with Birdie's as she finished up lacing her boots. Her feet flopped back onto the carpeted floor, a lopsided smile on her lips. Sam smiled as well, letting out a sigh as he shifted, stealing a look towards the bathroom. Then his gaze returned to Birdie, his smile faltering somewhat. "You know, with us still trying to find Bela, and now this case, if there's something still bothering you. . ."

"Sam. . ."

"I know, I know, but, Birdie, you can talk to me," Sam told her.

"I know that, Sam," Birdie softly sighed.

Sam twisted his lips, a frown now appearing. "It's not good to bottle these things up——"

"You're one to talk." Sam let out a faint huff, not liking that Birdie was turning the conversation around on him; it was a tactic Serena had unintentionally taught her daughter.

"But we're not talking about me right now," Sam said.

Birdie shook her head and stood up, pulling some of her hair back and tying it out of her face. Then she dropped her hands down at her sides, tilting her head at Sam. "Sam, I. . .I'm not really even. . ." She briefly glanced towards the bathroom when the toilet flushed, letting out a tired sigh. Her eyes flickered back to Sam, a corner of her lip tweaking up into a half-smile. "Later, okay? Right now all I can think about is breakfast."

"You two done flirtin' with each other yet?" Dean asked as he opened the door. Birdie and Sam rolled their eyes in sync, sending Dean sharp glares as their responses. Dean raised his brows, eyes flicking between them. "Is that a no or. . ."

"Come on," Birdie simply said, grabbing her leather jacket from one of the chairs by the square table. Sam followed her, but the two of them stopped when they realized Dean wasn't following them.

Birdie opened the door and waited beside Sam as Dean rummaged through the room as if he was searching for something specific. Sam puffed out his cheeks and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his jeans, leaning against the doorframe. Birdie dramatically sighed the longer Dean took, lazily leaning against Sam and dropping her head onto his broad shoulder. Dean continued to search for something, heading towards one of the dressers where his bag was placed.

"Whenever you're ready, Dean," Sam stated, growing more impatient the longer they had to wait.

Dean pursed his lips, pulling out a black, lacy bra, automatically looking towards Sam. "This yours?" Sam tilted his head, glaring in response. "We already know Bird wouldn't wear somethin' like this, would ya, Bird?"

Birdie stood up straight, firmly placing her hands on her hips. "Excuse me, I'll have you know that I have plenty of cute bras," she snapped, pointing a finger towards the older man. "You should already know that since you've apparently seen so many of them."

Sam raised his brows, jaw slacked as Birdie sharply turned on her heel and started walking towards the stairs to reach the parking lot where the Impala was parked the night before. Dean's expression was nearly identical to his younger brothers as his eyes followed Birdie until he could no longer see her.

Dean closed his mouth a few seconds later, catching Sam's eye. "You think she's serious?" Sam silently shook his head, simply giving his brother a look. Dean snickered and sat the bra aside, continuing to search through his bag some more until he finally pulled out his signature gun. "Bingo. Now, who's ready for some breakfast?"

Birdie pushed some curls that had fallen from her half-ponytail out of her face as she entered the small diner, hearing it chime as she and the boys entered together. She walked past an older man at the counter with Sam beside her and Dean leading them towards an empty booth near the middle of the diner, next to one of the windows.

A warm grin spread across her lips as Dean stood by one of the seats, flashing her a cheeky smile as he motioned for her to sit first. Birdie playfully cooed at him, lightly patting his cheek as she moved to sit in the booth. "Aw, aren't you just the sweetest," she teased. "You know, after you insult my taste in bras."

Sam chuckled while Dean shook his head in amusement, sitting down beside Birdie as Sam got comfortable in the seat across from them. Dean turned his head as he sank onto the cushioned seat, noticing the menu on the wall behind the counter, a smile appearing on his lips as he saw Tuesday's special. "Hey. Tuesday. Pig 'n a poke."

Sam softly smiled, raising his brows. "You even know what that is?"

Dean's face slightly fell, mumbling as a waitress whose name tag read Doris walked over to the trio, holding a notepad and a pen as she warmly smiled at them. "You three ready?"

"Yes," Dean cheerfully answered, leaning his elbows on the table. "I'll have the special side of bacon, and a coffee."

Birdie nodded, a small smile etched on her lips. "I'll have the same."

"Make it three coffees and a short stack," Sam answered lastly when Doris turned her head towards him.

"You got it," Doris said, flashing them a smile as she turned away.

"I'm tellin' you, guys, this job is small-fry," Dean said, casually leaning back in the booth with his arm stretched across the top of the booth seat behind Birdie. Birdie had her head resting on her hand, head turned slightly to be able to look between Sam and Dean. "We should be spending our time huntin' down Bela."

"Okay, sure, let's get right on that. Where is she again?" Sam wondered, furrowing his brows as he stared across at Dean.

"Shut up," Dean immediately replied, sending his brother a glare while Birdie snickered under her breath.

"Look, believe me, I want to find her as bad as you do. In the meantime, we have this," Sam said, pulling out some papers from inside his jacket and sliding it over for Dean and Birdie to look at for themselves, though Birdie had already looked over it on their way thereafter Sam first mentioned the case.

"All right, so this professor. . ." Dean started, peering down at the newspaper clipping. The headline read MISSING——DEXTER HASSELBACK LAST SEEN IN BROWARD, FLORIDA. A picture of the older man was directly below the printed words, an article about him that advised anyone with information to tell the local authorities anything they knew.

"Dexter Hasselback was passing through town last week when he vanished," Sam explained.

"Last known location?" Dean asked, skimming through the article.

"His daughter said he was on his way to visit the Broward County Mystery Spot," Birdie answered, leaning back in the booth to fold her arms over her chest, feeling her stomach twist at the thought of food; man, she was hungrier than she thought.

Dean turned over a flyer for the Broward County Mystery Spot Sam had handed him along with the news clipping, face scrunched as he read over the words. "Where the laws of physics have no meaning." Dean looked across at Sam with a displeased expression, seeing him simply shrug. A bell chimed behind the counter, but Birdie paid no attention to it as she mimicked Sam's movement when Dean turned his head in her direction.

Doris arrived a few seconds later with a tray with three steaming cups of coffees and a bottle of hot sauce. "Three coffees——black, and some hot sauce for the——" Doris gasped as the hot sauce fell off the tray and smashed on the floor, the bottle shattering into tiny pieces and the sauce spilling on the floor. "Whoops. Crap! Sorry," she sheepishly apologized, turning towards the back of the diner. "Clean up!"

Birdie offered Doris a faint smile as the woman walked away, grabbing one of the mugs to take a sip. She adjusted in the seat again, twisting her lips as her conversation with Sam popped into her head again. She wondered if it'd been easier to talk about sooner instead of waiting a few weeks, but talking about her feelings had never always been easy for her. She never really had the chance to explore her feelings or talk them out, her mother always brushing them off or telling her they would eventually pass. She learned to ignore them or push them deep down until she was alone, but over the years she'd started to feel herself struggling to push them down as much——which she figured was how Sam and Dean were starting to pick up on them more often than not. And, even if she felt like she wanted to talk about them. . .the mere idea of doing so made her skin crawl like bugs were walking all across her body.

Birdie flinched when she felt something poke her cheek, relaxing when she saw it was Dean. She let out a shaky breath, closing her eyes as she realized she'd gotten lost in her thoughts. "Sorry, sorry," she mumbled.

"What's goin' on, Bird?" Dean asked.

Birdie frowned, taking a quick sip of her coffee. "What do you mean?" Dean tilted his head slightly, giving her a look. Birdie glanced down at her steaming cup of coffee, breathing out a forced laugh. "Is there a sign on my forehead or something that I just can't get rid of?"

Sam pursed his lips, giving her a look. "No, but we're your friends, Bird. We do notice when something's off."

Birdie twisted her lips, her finger trailing along the handle of the mug. "It's really. . .it's nothing." She paused, face slightly falling as she looked between the brothers. Her gaze slowly went to Dean, a heavy sigh surpassing her lips. "Dean, remember how I told you I faced wolves when I was-when I was stuck in my head?"

Dean slowly nodded. "Yeah."

"Yeah, well, that was. . .a lie," she told him. His brows knitted together, stealing a glance at his brother as if to see it was true. Sam didn't give Dean a response, turning his attention back to Birdie. "I, uh, I had to face. . .I had to face my mom."

"Your mom?" Dean repeated, eyes slightly widening at Birdie's confession. "I thought Jeremy played with your w——" Before the words left his mouth, Dean's entire face fell as he stopped himself. He sat up straight, frowning as he took in Birdie's weary expression.

Birdie sucked in a deep breath, leaning back in the seat. "Yeah, it was. . .it was a reminder of how much of a terrible person she was."

"What'd she——"

Much to Birdie's relief, Doris appeared with their food and a new bottle of hot sauce. "Oh thank god," Birdie breathed out, shooting Doris a perky smile as the woman started to set their food down on the table. Dean questionably stared at Birdie, lips parted slightly like he wanted to speak. Birdie noticed, innocently shrugging as she pulled her plate in front of her. "What? I'm freakin' hungry. And besides, that's all I have to say on the matter as of right now. Happy now?"

Sam caught Birdie's eye, seeing that she was speaking specifically to him. He gave her a look but Birdie just innocently grinned, taking a bite of her greasy bacon. He let out a sigh, beginning to eat his own breakfast. Dean did the same, occasionally asking about the case as they ate their breakfast——purposely not asking Birdie anything about her mother since it was obvious she still wasn't exactly wanting to open up about it.

It didn't take them long to eat their food, finishing up quickly so they could get started on the case. They left soon after, Birdie leaving some money on the table for a tip as Dean headed to the front register to pay for their meal.

The trio walked down the sidewalk after they left the diner, an excited grin suddenly appearing on Birdie's face when she spotted a golden retriever tied to a bike rack outside of a store just a few feet ahead of them. She happily hurried ahead of the brothers, bending down some as she cooed down at the adorable dog. The dog meekly whined up at her, his tongue flopping out as he stared up at Birdie as if begging her to give him some kind of affection.

"Aw, aren't you just the cutest little thing?" she gushed, going to pet the dog until someone stopped her.

"Come on, Doctor Dolittle," Dean gently grabbed hold of Birdie's arm, hearing her whine as he gently tugged her away from the dog. He let go as Birdie started to walk between him and Sam, falling back into the same pace as the Winchesters. Sam held the Mystery Spot flyer in his hands, brows furrowed in concentration as he read through it to see if there might have been something there that he could've missed. Dean reached around Birdie a few moments later, grabbing the flyer from Sam's hands.

"Joints like this are only tourist traps, right?" Dean asked. Sam sighed, holding his hand out as Dean continued to speak. "I mean, you know, balls rollin' uphill, furniture nailed to the ceiling. The only danger's to your wallet."

Birdie stuffed her hands in her pocket with a small grin as Dean chuckled at his own words, hearing Sam huff. "Okay, look, I'm just saying, there are spots in the world where holes open up and swallow people——the Bermuda Triangle, uh, the Oregon Vortex——"

"Broward County Mystery Spot?" Dean retorted.

"Some of these places are legit, Dean," Birdie reminded Dean, turning her head to the side to give him a look, head slightly tilted with the corner of her lip tweaked upwards into a half-smile.

"All right, so if it is legit——and that's a big-ass if——what's the lore?" Dean wondered.

"Well——"

Dean's shoulder suddenly collided with a blonde woman who was carrying a stack of papers. "Excuse me," she softly apologized, quickly continuing down the sidewalk.

"The lore's pretty fuckin' nuts, actually," Sam continued, facing forward again while Dean stole a glance back, undoubtedly checking out the woman. He made a face of approval when he faced forward, shooting Birdie a wink when he saw her giving him a rather judgmental look. "I mean, they say these places the magnetic fields are so strong that they can bend space-time, sending victims no one knows where."

"Sounds a little X-Files to me," Dean said.

They walked past another set of brick buildings, noticing two movers were struggling to get a wooden desk through the front door of an office, bickering back and forth as they did so. Birdie questionably raised a brow as her eyes lingered on them, simply shaking her head as she faced forward again.

"All right, look, I'm not saying this is really happening, but if it is, we gotta check it out, see if we can do something."

"All right, all right, we'll go tonight after they close, get ourselves a nice, long look."

•❃°•°❀°•°❃•

Sam easily picked the lock of the Broward County Mystery Spot, carefully opening the door as he pocketed his lockpick set in his jacket. The tourist trap had been closed for a little over an hour, all of the lights turned off with no one seemingly left inside. Birdie adjusted her flashlight in her hand, stepping into a narrow hallway. The walls and the door were all painted neon green with a black double spiral in an attempt to create an optical illusion for those walking into the building, but all it did was make Birdie's eyes instantly start to hurt.

Birdie and Dean took a few steps forward, glancing around for any sign of the owner to make sure he was gone as Sam quietly closed the door behind them.

They carefully started to make their way down the narrow hall, Sam pulling out an EMF meter from his pocket to check for any signs of ghostly activity. Birdie peered around when she stepped into a wide-open room, stopping off to the side as Dean did so. Sam swiftly walked past them, heading towards the opposite side of the room. Birdie followed Dean's gaze, seeing his flashlight shining on the ceiling where a table, lamp, and an ashtray were attached upside-down to the black and white checkered ceiling——it was just like he'd described earlier.

"Wow. Uncanny," he sarcastically said, glancing aside towards Birdie.

Birdie snickered under her breath. "Look at that, you were right for once."

Dean shot her a glare, her smile only widening as she walked off. She looked down a hall off to the left of her, seeing some cutouts of different characters for kids, teens, and adults to place their heads and take as many pictures as they'd like. She made a face as she turned away, shaking her head. She slowly moved forward, shaking her head when she walked around a large statue of a seahorse.

Sam examined another table that was placed at an angle with a wine glass and a poultry dinner secured to the surface, holding the EMF meter up to it, but there was nothing. He softly sighed in defeat and moved to the side, starting to wonder if he'd been wrong.

"Find anything?" Dean asked, glancing at the table Sam had just checked.

"No," Sam answered, dropping his hand to his side.

"You have any idea what you're lookin' for?" Dean wondered next, his face showing his obvious doubts. Birdie let out a small sigh, tucking some loose curls behind her ear.

"Uh. . .yeah," Sam answered, nonchalantly shrugging as he made a face. Birdie twisted her lips at his response, turning her head away from a giant seahorse statue to look towards the brothers; as much as she wanted Sam to be right, she was beginning to wonder if maybe there wasn't anything strange to do with Dexter Hassleback's sudden disappearance. Dean skeptically raised his eyebrows at his brother, making Sam's face slightly fall. "No."

Dean shook his head, closing his eyes as he turned his head. Birdie softly chuckled to herself, taking a few steps to the right, shining her flashlight around other parts of the room in an attempt to find something that could've proved Sam was right, but it wasn't looking like there was anything out of the ordinary there——aside from the stuff there that was meant to be out of the ordinary.

"What the hell you doin' here?"

Sam and Birdie instantly turned at the sound of the unfamiliar voice, eyes slightly widened. Dean pointed his flashlight and his handgun at the stern voice, a hard expression etched on his features. Panic struck Birdie's heart, seeing the owner aiming his own gun at Dean.

Dean quickly pointed his gun elsewhere, recognizing the man as the owner as well. Sam visibly tensed at the sight of the owner's gun aimed at them, sucking in a shaky breath. It wasn't the first time they'd been caught breaking in somewhere for a case, but very rarely did they end up with guns trained on them. "Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. Whoa. We can explain."

The owner pointed the gun at Sam, harshly glaring at the trio. "You robbin' me?"

Sam held his hands up, eyes slightly widened with panic as the owner then aimed the gun at Birdie a few moments later. She was quick to raise her hands as well, making her flashlight obvious that it was only a flashlight and not some kind of weapon; at least at the moment. "Look, nobody's robbin' you, calm down."

The owner pointed the shotgun back at Dean, seeing him moving his hand with the gun in it towards the ground. "Don't move. Don't move!"

"Just puttin' the gun down."

The owner suddenly fired the gun without warning, shooting Dean right in the chest.

Birdie flinched at the deafening sound, watching with disbelief and horror as Dean collapsed onto his back from the forceful impact, his gun and flashlight clattering away from his hand. "DEAN!" Birdie and Sam simultaneously yelled. The owner's eyes tripled in size seconds later, his panicked gaze looking down at the gun as if he was shocked by what he'd done.

Instantly Sam and Birdie rushed to Dean's side, kneeling on opposite sides of him. Sam carefully helped Dean sit up, holding him close in his arms. "Hey!" Sam hastily shouted, heart-thumping around in his chest from concern and looming dread. His eyes looked to the wound, sucking in a sharp breath as crimson blood pooled from the wound, staining his shirt.

One of Birdie's hands went to Dean's shoulder, an unsettling feeling bubbling in her stomach as she gazed down at the nasty wound, hearing Dean struggle to breathe as he sucked in heavy breaths. Birdie felt tears prick in her eyes as she helplessly looked down at her friend, her chapped lips parted in shock. This couldn't be happening. . .it wasn't time.

Birdie's instinct was to try to help, to put pressure on the wound to help slow it down, but with the amount of blood Dean had already lost and where the bullet entered. . .one of Dean's hands reached for Sam, weakly grabbing hold of his jacket like he was trying to keep him close.

Sam quickly looked over at the owner, tears brewing in his eyes. "Call 911!"

"I-I didn't mean to——"

"Now!" Birdie hastily snapped, not bothering to give the owner another look in order to keep her focus on Dean. Birdie then bent down closer to Dean, blinking away some tears as she heard the owner's footsteps scurry away.

"Hey, hey, oh, no, no, no," Sam softly said, staring down at Dean who just barely managed to move his head to look up at his little brother, letting out a faint grunt. "Not like this. . ."

"No, no, no, no," Birdie whispered as well, watching Dean suddenly still and his eyes flutter closed, his head lulling to the side.

Sam helplessly stared down at Dean, devastation etched on his features. "Dean?"

Tears raced down Birdie's cheeks, shaking her head.

No, no, no, no, no.

Dean couldn't be dead——it just couldn't be real.

⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅

"Rise and shine, Sammy!"

Birdie giggled in amusement as she stole a glance over her shoulder, seeing a confused Sam slowly blinking towards Dean. Heat of the Moment by Asia loudly blared from the radio on the bedside table between the two beds, Dean brightly smiling as he sat on the bed opposite of Sam, tying his boots as he continued to get ready for the day. Birdie still had to get changed out of her pajamas and try to tame her curls that were falling out of her bun more than she would've preferred. Her bag was placed on the table, some clothes spewing out from inside after she'd rummaged through it a few minutes ago to try and find an outfit; she'd stopped when she couldn't find a nice shirt and opted to brush her teeth and fix up her appearance before changing her clothes. Her eyes briefly fell on her boots that were kicked off near the bathroom door, brows furrowing together; they'd been bought with some of the money she'd stolen from Bela.

Sam questionably stared between Dean and Birdie with uncertainty, then at the clock, his eyes noticeably widened and brows knitted together.

Dean noticed Sam oddly looking at the clock, smirking as the song filled the entire room. "Dude. Asia."

Sam simply kept staring at Dean, curious eyes flickering towards Birdie every few seconds as he attempted to understand what was going on. "Dean."

"Oh, come on. You love this song and you know it." Dean gave Sam a look as he reached over to the clock, turning up the volume. Birdie giggled in amusement, watching him bop his head and point his finger at Sam as he mouthed along with the catchy lyrics.

Birdie quickly spit out the mouthwash, chuckling to herself as she watched the oldest Winchester through the mirror. Sam didn't seem to find it as amusing as Birdie would've thought, slowly blinking as Dean stood up to make his way to the sink to brush his teeth. Birdie turned on her heel, tilting her head towards Sam as she wiped her mouth off on the hand towel beside the sink in front of her. "You good?"

Sam shook his head, forcing out a laugh. "Uh, yeah, I just. . .I had a weird dream."

"Yeah? Clowns or midgets?" Dean asked as he looked at Sam through the mirror, chuckling while he grabbed his toothbrush.

Birdie playfully rolled her eyes at Dean's response, walking to the other side of the bed that she was sharing with Dean. "If he had a weird dream, that probably means you were in it," she teased, glancing aside towards the older man. She grabbed her bag, plopping it down on the bed to find some clothes to wear for the day.

"No, I'm not the one Sam dreams about," Dean smugly retorted. Birdie pursed her lips together as Sam groaned, standing up from the bed. Dean laughed at their reactions, beginning to brush his teeth. "Yeah, see? You guys already know who I'm talkin' about."

Birdie shook her head with a roll of her eyes and grabbed a floral button-up blouse and a pair of blue jeans from her bag to put on. But at the feeling of someone staring at her, she paused to look up. Her eyes locked with Sam's, suspiciously narrowing her eyes at him when a thought popped into her head. "Did you have a dream about me?"

"What? No, I——never mind."

Birdie giggled and tucked her clothes under her arm, heading towards the bathroom to get changed. Sam puffed out his cheeks and grabbed a flannel from the top of his bag, slipping it on over his shoulders. Dean partially turned, looking at Sam over his shoulder.

Before Dean could even open his mouth, Sam was already speaking like he knew what Dean was thinking. "I didn't dream about her, alright?" Dean just raised his brows, the corners of his lips pulled up into a grin. "I didn't."

"Alright, alright," Dean said around his toothbrush. Sam huffed and stepped up next to him, shaking his head as Dean dying played on repeat in his mind.

Was that really just a weird dream?

Birdie pushed some curls that had fallen from her half-ponytail out of her face as she entered the small diner, hearing it chime as she and the boys entered. She walked past an older man at the counter with Sam beside her and Dean leading them towards an empty booth near the middle of the diner. Sam glanced around the diner in bewilderment, his eyes raking over the people and the entirety of the building. Neither Birdie nor Dean seemed to notice Sam's expression, walking towards the booth.

A warm grin spread across Birdie's lips as Dean stood by one of the seats, flashing her a cheeky smile as he motioned for her to sit first. Birdie playfully cooed at him, lightly patting his cheek as she moved to sit in the booth. "Aw, aren't you just the sweetest," she teased. "You know, after you insult my taste in bras."

Sam's face knitted together in confusion while Dean shook his head in amusement, sitting down beside Birdie as Sam slowly sat in the seat across from them. Dean turned his head as he sank onto the cushioned seat, noticing the menu on the wall behind the counter, a smile appearing on his lips as he saw Tuesday's special. "Hey. Tuesday. Pig 'n a poke."

Sam glanced between Dean, Birdie, and the poster. "It's Tuesday?"

"Yeah," Dean answered, suspiciously eying him.

Birdie glanced aside, seeing a waitress with a name tag reading Doris approaching their table. "Are you three ready?" she asked, smiling at the trio.

"Yes, I'll have the special, side of bacon and a coffee," Dean answered.

Birdie nodded, a small smile etched on her lips. "I'll have the same."

Sam stared at Dean and Birdie for a few seconds before he turned towards Doris. "Uh, nothin' for me, thanks."

Doris softly smiled at him, beginning to turn away as she jotted down the rest of Dean and Birdie's orders. "Let me know if you change your mind."

"I'm tellin' you, guys, this job is small-fry," Dean said, casually leaning back in the booth with his arm stretched across the top of the booth seat behind Birdie. Birdie had her head resting on her hand, head turned slightly to be able to look between Sam and Dean. "We should be spending our time huntin' down Bela."

Sam let out a shaky breath, his focus elsewhere. Birdie frowned, raising her brows as she wiggled her fingers in front of Sam to try and capture his attention. "Hey, you good?"

"What?" Sam asked, looking at her oddly.

"You sure you feel okay?" Dean curiously asked, having noticed Sam seemed to be more on edge than usual.

Sam sighed. "You don't. . .you guys don't remember any of this?"

"Remember what?" Birdie wondered.

"This. Today," Sam replied, glancing between Birdie and Dean. "Like-like it's——like it's. . .happened before?"

"You mean like déjà vu?" Birdie suggested, head tilted to the side.

"No, I mean like, like it's really happened before," Sam replied.

Dean skeptically stared at Sam, a similar expression appearing on Birdie's features. "Yeah. Like déjà vu."

"No, forget about déjà vu," Sam firmly said, shaking his head. "I'm askin' if it feels like-like we're living yesterday all over again."

Birdie made a face, sharing a silent look with Dean. "Okay, how is that not dé——"

"Don't! Don't say it!" Sam harshly snapped, throwing his hands up and huffing, clearly frustrated. "Just don't even. . ."

Doris arrived a few seconds later with a tray with three steaming cups of coffee and a bottle of hot sauce. "Three coffees——black, and some hot sauce for the——" Doris gasped as the hot sauce fell off the tray and headed straight for the floor.

Sam noticed the hot sauce wobble on the tray and caught it just as it fell off the tray. Doris gasped, unable to hide her surprise that he'd managed to catch it. Sam stared at the bottle in his hand for a moment before giving it back to Doris.

Dean chuckled under his breath, sharing an impressed smile with Doris. "Thanks!" Doris said as she put down the bottle before walking away with a chuckle.

"Damn, Sam," Birdie said with a grin, taking one of the mugs filled with coffee.

"Nice reflexes," Dean nodded.

Sam thickly swallowed, remaining silent as he attempted to understand what was going on.

Why was he the only one that seemed to remember Dean dying?

Birdie frowned as she noticed the solemn expression on Sam's face, going to speak until she spotted Doris carrying over their food. She twisted her lips and leaned back in the seat, faintly smiling towards the waitress as she started to set their food down in front of them. She stole a glance at Sam, sighing to herself when he stood up and excused himself to the bathroom.

"Please tell me you understand what just happened," Dean said, expectantly turning towards Birdie.

Birdie took a sip of her coffee, picking up her fork. "He's your brother, shouldn't you know?"

"He's your. . .you guys are close, too," Dean pointedly retorted. "Do you get what just happened?"

Birdie sadly shook her head. "No, but I wish I did."

Dean shook his head as well, taking a bite of his food. "How is living the same day not déjà vu?"

"I don't know. Maybe it has something to do with his weird dream."

"Oh, you mean his dream about you?"

Birdie huffed in annoyance, letting her head fall back in exasperation as she sharply glared at Dean. "His dream was not about me?"

"How do you know?"

"Because I. . ." Birdie grumbled, rolling her eyes as she took a bite of her bacon. "I don't know for sure, but I doubt he was dreaming about me. . .again. Now, just shut up and eat your damn food before I eat it for you."

Sam returned to the table a couple of minutes later, being rather quiet compared to usual as Dean and Birdie ate their breakfast. Dean didn't like it, eventually bringing up the idea that they were living the same day again but only Sam seemed to remember it.

The trio walked down the sidewalk after they left the diner with Sam still attempting to explain that he believed they were living the same day again. Birdie listened closely, but suddenly an excited grin appeared on her face when she spotted a golden retriever tied to a bike rack outside of a store just a few feet ahead of them. She happily hurried ahead of the brothers, bending down some as she cooed down at the adorable dog. The dog meekly whined up at her, his tongue flopping out as he stared up at Birdie as if begging her to give him some kind of affection.

"Aw, aren't you just the cutest little thing?" she gushed, going to pet the dog until someone stopped her.

"Come on, Doctor Dolittle." Dean gently grabbed hold of Birdie's arm, hearing her whine as he gently tugged her away from the dog. He let go as Birdie started to walk between him and Sam, falling back into the same pace as the Winchesters.

"Sam, I'm sorry, but I don't know what the hell you're talking about," Dean said as Sam turned away from staring at the dog.

"Okay, look. Yesterday was Tuesday, right?" Sam explained, looking from Birdie to Dean. Birdie let out a tired sigh, subtly glancing towards Dean. "But today is Tuesday, too."

"Yeah. No. Good," Dean shortly replied. "You're totally balanced."

"Dean. . ." Birdie softly said.

"So you don't believe me?" Sam demanded.

Dean laughed, his shoulder suddenly colliding with a blonde woman who was carrying a stack of papers. "Excuse me," she softly apologized, quickly continuing down the sidewalk.

"Birdie?" Sam asked, catching the younger woman's eye.

Birdie shrugged, tucking her hands in the pockets of her leather jacket. "I-I. . .Sam, I wanna believe you, but it's just. . ."

"We're just saying that it's crazy, you know, I mean, even for us crazy. Dingo-ate-my-baby crazy," Dean said. "Hey, maybe it was another one of your psychic premonitions."

"No, no way. Way too vivid," Sam denied, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for what was going on. Birdie twisted her lips, looking up at Sam as he walked to the left of her. "Okay, look, we were at the Mystery Spot, and then. . ."

"And then what?"

Sam paused for a brief moment, not wanting to say what had happened. "Then I woke up."

They walked past another set of brick buildings, noticing two movers were struggling to get a wooden desk through the front door of an office, bickering back and forth as they did so. Birdie questionably raised a brow as her eyes lingered on them, simply shaking her head as she faced forward again.

"Wait a minute!" Sam suddenly exclaimed, throwing his hands out at his sides as a thought occurred to him. "The Mystery Spot. You think maybe it——"

"Maybe what?"

Sam huffed. "We gotta check that place out." Dean closed his eyes, clearly not wanting to go. Birdie raised her brows, obviously uncertain with the way Sam was acting. "Look, guys, just——go with me on this, okay?"

"All right, all right," Dean reluctantly obliged. "We'll go tonight, after close, get ourselves a nice long look."

Sam realized what Dean said and whipped around to stand directly in front of Dean and Birdie, causing them to abruptly halt on the sidewalk before they could cross the empty street. "Wait, what? No."

"Why not?" Birdie curiously wondered, tilting her head towards him. "Wouldn't that be easier?"

"Uhh," Sam stammered, not wanting to say why they couldn't go at night. Then he shrugged a few seconds later, glancing to the side like there was no specific reason. "Let's just go now. Right now. Business hours, nice and crowded," he said, offering Dean and Birdie a faint smile like it would reassure them to go along with his idea.

"My God, you're a freak," Dean said.

Birdie pursed her lips, turning to give him a glare.

"Dean," Sam snapped.

"Okay! Whatever," Dean gruffly said. "We'll go now."

Dean walked a few feet ahead of Sam and Birdie, looking to his right as he began to cross the street. Sam and Birdie started to follow, but then a car suddenly slammed into Dean, sending him tumbling into the air before his body roughly collided with the pavement below.

Birdie flinched, her breath catching in her throat as she stared at Dean's limp figure on the road. "Dean!" Sam shouted, immediately rushing over to Dean. Birdie hurried after him, kneeling on the opposite side of Dean with her heart thundering around in her chest. "Dean, no, no, no."

Sam carefully turned Dean over from his stomach, picking him up in his arms just like the day before. "Come on! Dean."

The car that had hit him stopped, revealing the driver as the old man, Mr. Pickett, from the diner who left just as they entered. He leaned out of his car window, staring at Dean's body with his brows knitted together.

Birdie looked away from the old man, her eyes falling back on her friend. "Oh my god," she meekly whispered, looking down at Dean's battered and bloodied body.

"Hey, Dean," Sam tried again, seeing Dean wasn't even moving, green eyes still open but void of any life. He was dead again. "Dean. Dean!"

⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅

"Hey. Tuesday. Pig 'n a poke."

"Okay, would you two listen to me? 'Cause I am flipping the fuck out," Sam said in a hushed tone, completely serious as he looked between Birdie and Dean.

"Are you three ready?" A waitress named Doris asked, warmly smiling at them as she stood at the end of their table.

"They'll take the special, side of bacon, coffee——black. Nothing for me, thanks," Sam hastily answered, voice firm as he didn't bother to look at Doris.

"You got it," Doris slowly said, turning away to put their order in.

Dean casually leaned back in the seat, cheekily grinning towards his little brother. "Sammy, I get all tingly when you take control like that."

Birdie snorted out a laugh, turning her head when Sam glanced towards her, no amusement whatsoever on his features.

"Quit fuckin' around, Dean," Sam sharply said, looking towards Birdie again. "You too, Bird. This is serious."

"Don't take that fucking tone with me, Samuel," Birdie said, giving him a glare.

"Okay. Okay. I'm-we're listening," Dean said, giving Birdie a subtle look that told her to agree with him. She puffed out her cheeks but nodded along in agreement before her gaze returned to Sam. "So, so. . .now, you think that you're in some kind of a what again?"

"Time loop," Sam said.

"Like Groundhog Day," Dean said.

"Yes, exactly," Sam quickly replied. "Like Groundhog Day."

Dean slowly nodded. "Uh-huh."

"So you don't believe me," Sam harshly stated, features falling at the fact Dean still didn't believe him. He leaned back in the seat, helplessly facing Birdie.

Birdie heavily sighed, resting her head on her hand as Dean breathed out a laugh. "I wanna believe you, Sammy, but.  . ."

"It's-it's just a little crazy, I mean even for us crazy. You know, like, uh——"

"Dingo-ate-my-baby crazy?" Sam finished for Dean.

Dean's smile wavered, not expecting Sam to know what he was going to say. "How'd you know I was going to say that?" he wondered.

"Because you said it before, Dean. That's my whole point."

Dean opened his mouth like he was going to respond, but Doris arrived before he got the chance. She started to set the coffees on the table, speaking as she did so. "Coffee——black——and some hot sauce for the——whoops! Crap." Sam swiftly caught the hot sauce as it tumbled from the tray and handed it back to Doris without even looking. "Thanks," she said, putting the sauce on the table before walking away.

"Damn, Sammy," Birdie said, softly smiling.

"Nice reflexes," Dean said, eying Sam with impressment.

"No. I knew it was going to happen," Sam firmly stated.

Dean heavily sighed. "Okay, look. I'm sure that there's some sort of an explanation."

"You're both just going to have to go with me on this," Sam said. "You just have to-you owe me that much!"

"Calm down——"

"Don't tell me to calm down! I can't calm down. I can't because. . ."

Birdie deeply frowned, noticing a solemn look suddenly cloud his eyes. "Because what, Sam?"

Sam let out a shaky breath, shaking his head like he didn't want to answer.

"Because what, Sam?" Dean pressed.

"Because you die, today, Dean," Sam finally answered.

"I'm not gonna die. Not today," Dean pointedly said, making a face as if to say he didn't believe Sam. Birdie lifted her head slightly, lips falling open as she stared across at Sam.

"Twice now——Bird and I have watched you die, but only I seem to remember it for some fucked up reason, but I can't——I won't do it again, okay?" Sam said, eyes slightly watering at the thought of knowing that he'd most likely have to watch Dean die again for some unknown reason. Dean shifted in the seat as Birdie did so, her hand falling onto the table as her shoulders slouched. It was clear that Sam truly believed he was telling them the truth, and if he believed that, then so did Birdie. "You're just going to have to believe me. Please."

"All right. I still think you're nuts, but. . .okay. Whatever this is, we'll figure it out," Dean softly said.

Sam silently nodded his head, wondering if he would be able to stop Dean from dying somehow.

The trio walked down the sidewalk after they left the diner as Sam attempted to explain that he believed they were living the same day again, an excited grin suddenly appearing on Birdie's face when she spotted a golden retriever tied to a bike rack outside of a store just a few feet ahead of them. She happily hurried ahead of the brothers, bending down some as she cooed down at the adorable dog. The dog meekly whined up at her, his tongue flopping out as he stared up at Birdie as if begging her to give him some kind of affection.

"Aw, aren't you just the cutest little thing?" she gushed, going to pet the dog until someone stopped her.

"Come on, Doctor Dolittle." Dean gently grabbed hold of Birdie's arm, hearing her whine as he gently tugged her away from the dog. He let go as Birdie started to walk between him and Sam, falling back into the same pace as the Winchesters.

Dean's shoulder suddenly collided with a blonde woman who was carrying a stack of papers. "Excuse me," she softly apologized, quickly continuing down the sidewalk.

They walked past another set of brick buildings, noticing two movers were struggling to get a wooden desk through the front door of an office, bickering back and forth as they did so. Birdie questionably raised a brow as her eyes lingered on them, simply shaking her head as she faced forward again.

"And you think this shit tourist trap has somethin' to do with it?" Dean wondered.

"Maybe it's the real deal, you know?" Sam suggested. "The-the magnetic fields bending space-time or whatever."

"I don't know, it all seems a little too X-Files for me."

"Well, I don't know how else to explain it, Dean!" Sam frustratedly shouted.

"Hey, hey," Birdie quickly said, frowning as she placed a hand on Sam's arm in an attempt to calm him down. "Sam, we're gonna figure this out."

Sam let out a shaky breath when he glanced down at her, forcing a smile onto his lips. She returned it, letting her hand fall back at her side as she faced forward.

"All right," Dean said, the three of them continuing on down the sidewalk. "We'll go tonight after they close, get ourselves a nice long look."

"No, no, no, no, no. We can't," Sam hastily objected, holding his arm out to keep them from walking further.

"Why not?" Birdie wanted to know, her brows furrowed together.

"Because D——" Sam stopped, unable to finish his sentence.

"I what?" Sam didn't answer Dean, but it didn't take long for Dean and Birdie to realize what Sam had been trying to say. "I die there?"

Sam let out a shaky breath, vividly remembering what happened when they went to Mystery Spot after it had closed. "Blown away, actually."

"Huh," Dean said, making a face. "Okay, let's go now."

Dean then started to walk forward, about to walk across the empty street. Sam swiftly rushed after him and forcefully grabbed him by the shoulders, yanking him back before he could cross the street. Birdie hurried after him, sucking a breath when she saw a car zoom past them, the old man from the diner shouting out of his opened window, "Stay out of the way!"

They each stared after the car in disbelief, Sam still tightly holding onto Dean as they let out shaky breaths. Birdie ran a stressed hand along the side of her face, puffing out her cheeks as she felt her heartbeat slowly start to relax.

That was a close call.

Sam finally let go of Dean, eyes still wide. Dean laughed it off, turning towards Sam. Birdie faced the brothers, her and Deans' faces falling when they saw Sam's mortified expression. "Wait, did he——?"

"Yesterday," Sam breathed out. "Yeah."

"And?" Dean pressed.

"And what?"

"Did it look cool, like in the movies?"

"You're kidding me," Birdie said, blankly staring at Dean.

Sam sharply stared at his brother, visibly irritated that Dean was trying to laugh off him dying due to being hit by a car. "You peed yourself."

Dean uncomfortably shifted, suddenly embarrassed with the revelation. "Of course I peed myself," he snapped after a few seconds, becoming very defensive. Birdie blinked, furrowing her brows as she questionably eyed the older man. "Man gets hit by a car, you think he has full control over his bladder? Come on!"

Dean then turned on his heel, making sure to look both ways before going to cross the street. Birdie stole a glance towards Sam, offering him a small smile. "We'll figure this out, alright?" she said, looking both ways as well as she and Sam started to follow Dean. "He's not allowed to die just yet."

"Guys, I can't tell you how much I appreciate this. We could use all the good ink we can get."

"How long have you owned the place, Mr. Carpiak?" Sam asked the owner of the Mystery Spot. Dean and Birdie stood on both sides of him, the three of them posing as nicely dressed reporters who were working on an article that would feature the Mystery Spot alongside an interview with Mr. Carpiak.

"Well, my family's been guarding the secrets here since you don't want to know when," Mr. Carpiak answered, briefly glancing towards Birdie as she pretended to jot down what he was saying like it was meant to be an important detail.

"So you'd know if anything strange happened," Sam suggested, his brows raised slightly.

"Strange? Strange happens here all the time. It's a Mystery Spot," Mr. Carpiak said with an amused chuckle.

"What do you mean by that?" Birdie wondered.

"Well, uh. . .it's where the laws of physics. . .have no meaning," he answered, quoting the phrase that was printed on every Mystery Spot flyer.

"Okay, like how?" Sam demanded, a snippy tone in his voice due to the owner trying to make all of his answers sound more mysterious than they actually were.

"Take the tour," Mr. Carpiak shortly replied, cheerfully grinning.

"The guy who went missing——Dexter Hasselback——he take the tour?" Dean questioned next.

"Uh, uh, hold on a minute," The owner interjected, breathing out a nervous chuckle as he glanced between the trio. "What kind of article is this?"

"Just answer the question," Sam firmly ordered.

"The police scoured every inch of this place. They couldn't find that man. I never seen him before. We're a family establishment——"

Sam stepped closer to Mr. Carpiak, bringing his face close to the owners. Mr. Carpiak's face fell, noticing the harsh look in Sam's eyes. "Listen to me. There is somethin' weird going on here. Now, do you know anything about it or not?"

Dean shook his head at Sam, pocketing his pen and notepad; it seemed their interview would have to be cut short. Birdie's eyes widened, lowering her hands slightly with the way Sam was acting towards the owner.

"Okay, look. Guys, um, give me a break," Mr. Carpiak softly said, not wanting the customers that were currently inside to overhear him. "I bought the joint at a foreclosure auction last March, all right? Hell, I used to sell bail bonds."

Sam pursed his lips into a fine line, staring at Mr. Carpiak as he remained still.

"Okay, Kojak," Dean interjected a couple of seconds after, beginning to guide Sam towards the exit. Birdie momentarily closed her eyes, starting to turn in the direction of the exit while she pocketed her pen and notepad. "Let's get some air."

Birdie offered the owner a forced smile as she walked away, quickly hurrying after the boys. Sam shrugged Dean off as soon as they stepped outside the building, huffing in annoyance.

"What the fuck was that all about?" Dean demanded, holding his hands out at his sides.

Sam turned towards his brother, huffing with frustration. "It was nothing."

"You just about bit the guy's head off and you're gonna say that was nothing?" Birdie raised her brows.

Sam glanced at her, shaking his head after a few moments. He turned his back to them and started heading for the Impala across the parking lot, causing Dean and Birdie to follow suit. "Sam!" Dean shouted. "Hey!"

Sam groaned under his breath, turning just as he reached the Impala.

"Sam," Birdie huffed, a faint frown on her lips. "Come on, what was that about?"

Sam clenched his jaw, eyes flicking to the ground. He softly sighed, picking up his head as his eyes went from Birdie to Dean. "The owner's the one who blew you away."

Birdie's frown deepened, feeling her heart sink. "What?"

Dean shifted, his brows furrowing together. "Really? Mr. Smiles in there actually pulled the trigger?" Birdie sharply turned her head, giving him a sharp glare when he caught her eye. He scoffed but faintly nodded, looking towards Sam. "Okay. . .well, let's just get out of here before he calls someone to come and get Kojak here, alright?"

Sam sent Dean a glare while Birdie faintly smiled. "Good, I'm dying to get out of this suit."

Dean sent Birdie a smirk over the roof of the Impala. "I could help with that."

Birdie immediately grimaced. "Ew, gross. I'd go for Sam before I went for you."

Sam's eyes visibly widened, quickly looking towards Dean as the woman climbed into the back of the Impala. "Wha——"

"We leavin' or what?" Birdie demanded, poking her head out of the window with one hand tossed to the side for emphasis.

"You'd really pick Sam over me?"

"Oh, don't get all huffy," Birdie said, giving him a cheeky grin. "There's lots of people I'd put in front of Sam, too." Sam slightly pursed his lips when he glanced towards her while Dean tilted his head, raising one of his brows. Birdie twisted her own lips, suddenly looking between the Winchesters. "I-I——oh, don't look at me like that," she huffed, shooting them both glares. "If either of you ever start to look like Leonardo DiCaprio or Winona Ryder, then come talk to me."

Dean and Sam shared a look over the Impala, Sam simply shaking his head as he opened the passenger side door; he already had too much on his mind to try and get Birdie to elaborate.

Birdie shifted in the back, puffing out her cheeks as she scooted into the middle seat. Dean stole a glance over at her, catching her eye; there was still one thing on his mind. "Really? Winona Ryder?"

Birdie slightly narrowed her eyes, looking at him in suspicion. "Uh, yeah? You have seen her right?"

"Of course I have, and I agree, but I-I.  . .I just——I thought——"

"Hang on," Birdie interjected with a wave of her hand, scooting up in the seat to rest her elbows on the back of the front seat. "Do you. . ." Birdie tilted her head slightly, turning her head towards Sam as an amused smile began to appear on her lips. "You never told him?"

Sam returned the smile, shrugging. "I didn't think it was my place."

Birdie couldn't help but allow her grin to widen, a laugh escaping past her lips. "Tell me what?" Dean skeptically asked, not liking the fact they appeared to be hiding something from him.

Birdie adjusted her posture, slowly looking towards Dean. "You really haven't figured it out yet?"

"Figured what out?"

Birdie softly chuckled, shaking her head. "Oh, Dean. You remember when we worked that case in San Antonio, Texas a few months back?"

Dean made a face, nodding. "Yeah, the ghouls, right?"

Birdie copied his expression, nodding as well. "Yeah. And, after we killed those assholes we went out for a drink?"

"Wait, was that when you left me behind because you thought I was sick?" Sam asked, eyes darting to Dean.

"You were sick, Sam," Dean firmly replied. "That was a lot of sneezing and puking and-and——"

"Alright, alright," Sam scoffed, waving his hand in order to get Dean to stop talking. He shook his head, turning his head towards Birdie. "You worked that case too then?"

Birdie nodded. "Yeah, and it took a lot longer than usual. Those ghouls were real dicks."

"You could say that again," Dean grumbled.

Birdie chuckled under her breath, facing Dean. "But anyways, we went to that bar."

"What bar?"

Birdie narrowed her eyes, giving Dean a pointed glare. "Are you playing dumb because you got rejected?"

Sam's eyes immediately lit up, smiling with amusement. "Wait, you-you got rejected? You?"

Dean scoffed, facing forward. "I was not rejected, okay? I. . .she just wasn't really my type."

"Actually, you weren't her type," Birdie said.

Dean faced her again. "What? How do you know?"

"Uh, maybe because she told me after you left," Birdie answered.

"How'd you get her to talk to you? She barely acknowledged me."

Birdie tilted her head to one side, a coy smile playing on her lips. "That's because you're not as smooth as you think."

"And you are?"

"Yeah, and it turned out I was actually more her type."

Dean's lips parted, realization dawning on him. His eyes flickered towards Sam, seeing him faintly smile. Dean blinked, raising his brows in surprise. Memories of that night came flooding back into his mind, his eyes widening. "Holy shit! Is that why you didn't come back to the room until like noon?" Birdie sheepishly smiled in return, holding her hands out at her sides. A grin started to appear on Dean's lips, reaching his hand out and patting Birdie's shoulder. "That's our girl, Sammy! Pickin' up ladies better than you can."

"Says the guy who struck out with the girl she hooked up with," Sam retorted.

Birdie giggled at the brothers, playfully rolling her eyes. "Okay, okay, but anyways. . .maybe we should actually leave now?"

"Sure, but first," Dean started, looking towards Birdie with a serious expression, "if we find the same woman attractive, does that mean we have to play rock, paper, scissors?"

"I am not going to compete with you over women, Dean," Birdie replied. Dean nodded at her response, going to reply, but Birdie gave him a look and sharply pointed her finger at him. "So help me god, if you ask about calling dibs I'll——"

"What's so wrong with calling dibs?" Dean demanded to know.

"How would you feel if you found out the woman you were interested in called dibs on you to stop her friends from hitting on you?"

Dean pondered the thought, a cheeky grin creeping onto his lips seconds later.

Birdie groaned and fell back against the seat cushion, throwing her hand in the air.

"Bird's got a point, Dean," Sam said.

"Are you serious?" Dean scoffed.

Birdie narrowed her eyes. "I'd be careful if I were you, Dean. One wrong move and I might hit you with a car next."

"I'd like to see you try, lil bird," Dean replied, finally starting to back out of the parking lot with an amused smile. Sam silently shook his head, turning his gaze toward the window. Birdie mocked him under her breath, suddenly stopping when she saw Sam was watching her through the rearview with an entertained expression on his features.

She cleared her throat and quickly averted her gaze, moving back into the middle seat. Sam chuckled under his breath, his smile lingering for a few seconds as Dean began to drive towards the motel.

"Fine," Dean grumbled out after a few minutes, his voice capturing Sam and Birdie's attention. "No-no calling dibs, or playing rock, paper, scissors, okay?"

Birdie softly smiled, patting his shoulder. "Good boy."

"Oh, bite me."

"Well, I hate to say it, but that place is exactly what I thought——it's full of shit," Dean said. He, Sam, and Birdie were finally out of their suits and back in their normal clothes, the chilly night air sweeping against them as they walked down the sidewalk. Birdie could see her breath each time she spoke, the cool air nipping at her face. Thankfully, it was tolerable as they headed in the direction of some food joint they'd seen on their way into town; it also helped that she would partially step behind Sam when she felt the wind blow so his body would block it from blowing on her.

"Then what is it, Dean? What the hell is happening to us?" Sam sharply demanded to know.

"I don't know," Dean truthfully answered, slowing to a stop outside of a building, causing Sam and Birdie to stop as well. "All right, let me just. . .so, every day I die."

"Yeah," Sam answered, standing in front of Dean with Birdie off to the side of him.

"And that's when you wake up again, right?"

"Yeah."

"So let's just make sure I don't die," Dean stated. Sam furrowed his brows in thought. Birdie stuffed her hands in the pockets of her jacket, knitting her brows together as her eyes locked on Dean. "If I make it to tomorrow, then maybe the loop stops and we can figure all this out."

"Do you really think that'll work?" Birdie wondered. She desperately wanted it to work, but with there being no logical explanation for what was going on, there was no way of knowing what would or wouldn't work.

"It's worth a shot," Dean answered with a nonchalant shrug. "I say we grab some takeout, head back to the motel, lay low until midnight." Sam silently nodded, letting out a shaky exhale; it could work. "All right, good. Who wants Chinese?"

"Me!" Birdie giggled, her excited grin lighting up her features.

Dean started to walk again as Sam and Birdie shifted, making it two steps before he was suddenly flattened by a falling desk, his blood splattering as it crushed his entire body. Birdie halted at the sudden movement, a scream getting caught in her throat as she gasped at the pooling blood——some of which now decorated her shoes and her jeans.

Sam stared at one of the movers from earlier who was standing on the other side of the desk with a stunned expression, holding the other end of the snapped rope while the other gaped out of in the second-floor window, both gawking at the body as Dean's feet stuck out from underneath the broken desk like the Witch from The Wizard of Oz.

Sam let out a shaky breath, shoulders sunken as he stared at Dean's body.

Birdie gaped at Dean's feet, feeling tears begin to blossom in her darkened eyes——there was no way he was alive. "What the f——"

⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅

Day after day, Dean continued to die. Dean and Birdie never remembered it whenever a new Tuesday started, Sam being the only one becoming more and more haunted at the different ways Dean was dying. He desperately tried and tried to save Dean before tragedy could strike, but nothing he ever did was ever good enough; even with Birdie's help in trying to keep Dean safe from any kind of possible danger, Dean still died. It never took Birdie as long as Dean to believe Sam when he explained again and again that they were living the same day over and that Dean was going to die that day, but it was always worse for Sam as he remembered each and every time Dean died.

He died choking on his breakfast at the diner, slipping in the shower, eating a poisoned taco, electrocuted by his electric shaver, accidentally getting shot with an arrow by Dorris, getting hit in the head by a socket wrench that was being aimed at someone else, stepping on a banana peel, getting accidentally knocking down the stairs just outside of their motel room, and many more ways that Sam wished he could forget. But, with each death, he felt himself grow more desperate, angrier that he didn't know what the hell was going on or how he could actually save his big brother.

There had to be a way to explain what was going on, a way to save Dean.

With each new Tuesday, Sam worked differently to try and save Dean, trying to connect the pieces while Dean and Birdie did their best to help without knowing all that Sam already did. Some of his theories were a little far-fetched even for them, but Birdie didn't see any reason why they still couldn't check them out. Dean was a little more uncertain about Sam's latest theory, but with Birdie siding with Sam and claiming that it was worth checking out, it made it two against one. But, as Birdie helplessly watched Sam with wide eyes, she wasn't so sure if she should've sided with him.

Several thuds echoed throughout the Mystery Spot, each one causing Birdie's growing frown to deepen more and more. She watched Sam relentlessly continue to break down the walls of the tourist trap with an ax with a determination Birdie had never seen in him before.

Dean was just a few inches away from Birdie, nervously grinning towards Mr. Carpiak who was duct-taped to a chair while Dean kneeled on both sides of the gray-haired man. Birdie was on the other side of the older man, her hands dropped at her sides with her lips parted like she wanted to speak but her words were staying stuck on her tongue.

"Everybody's fine, nobody's gonna get hurt, okay?" Dean assured Mr. Carpiak——as Sam had entered the Mystery Spot with his fake badge in hand to convince all of the current visitors into a storage room for their own safety (while Sam ignored the question of what he'd told the visitors was going on). Dean and Birdie were visibly stunned when they found Sam duct-taping the owner into a chair——which may or may not have caused Dean to send Birdie a pointed look that she easily ignored. They didn't particularly want to aid Sam in his crime, but considering he'd already gone ahead with it and was already wielding an ax, they reluctantly decided to go along with it for now.

"Sammy?" Sam stopped and turned towards Dean, eyes slightly widened as he sucked in deep breaths from swinging the ax over and over again. Birdie tilted her head to one side, wincing as she regretted siding with Sam. "Maybe you should drop the ax and let this guy go. What do you say?"

"Something's gotta be going on here," Sam briskly breathed out, motioning towards the wall with the large ax. "I intend to find out what."

Birdie nervously gulped when he went back to swinging the ax, tearing down more of the wall. She turned her head, sharing a concerned look with Dean.

"Place is tore up pretty good, dude," Dean said, looking at Sam again. Birdie pursed her lips, standing up with one of her hands going to her temple. "Time to give it a rest."

"NO!" Sam defiantly shouted, making Birdie's brows shoot up in surprise. "I'm gonna take it down to studs."

Dean breathed out a fake laugh to try and reassure the owner before he stood up, making his way towards his brother. Birdie shook her head, watching pieces of drywall fling back with each strike. "Sammy, that's enough. Give me the ax."

"Leave it, Dean."

"Give it!"

"No, you give it."

"Let it go."

"No."

"Let it go, come on!"

Birdie anxiously watched them both grapple for the ax, a wince pulled on her face as neither one seemed to be succeeding and were growing more frustrated with each other.

"Come on guys," Birdie pleaded, having a sinking feeling starting to gnaw at her as she partially turned in a crouched position to fully face the Winchesters. "This doesn't exactly seem like the safest way to——"

"Dean, leave it, please——" Suddenly blood splashed over Mr. Carpiak and Birdie, making them both flinch when the warm liquid touched their skin. "Dean?"

Dean's body thudded against the ground seconds later, Sam's enlarged eyes instantly snapping towards Birdie's mortified figure.

Birdie slowly blinked, completely frozen in place as she felt Dean's blood slowly drip from her face, her eyes locked on his lifeless body, the ax still sticking out of his chest. Mr. Carpiak helplessly yelled through the duct tape, wildly wiggling against the tape.

"Dean?"

Just like the hundreds of other Tuesdays, the day restarted to the tune of Heat of the Moment by Asia. But, unlike the rest, there was something different about all of the other Tuesdays that loomed inside of Sam's mind.

Birdie slowly pushed some hair that had fallen from her ponytail out of her face as she entered the small diner, hearing it chime as she and the boys entered. She walked past an older man with Sam beside her and Dean leading them towards an empty booth near the middle of the diner, her curious eyes lingering on the lanky older man, her eyes following him for a few seconds until she shook her head.

A faint grin spread across Birdie's lips as Dean stood by one of the seats, flashing her a cheeky smile as he motioned for her to sit first. Birdie softly cooed, lightly patting his cheek as she moved to sit in the booth. "Aw, aren't you just the sweetest," she teased. She made a face as she sat in the seat, brows furrowed together in confusion. Wait. . .didn't she say that to him the day before?

Dean turned his head as he sank onto the cushioned seat, noticing the menu on the wall behind the counter, a smile appearing on his lips as he saw Tuesday's special. "Hey. Tuesday. Pig 'n a poke."

'Tuesday?' Birdie thought to herself, following his gaze to the menu. 'Wasn't yesterday Tuesday?'

Sam put a set of keys on the table with a blank expression on his face, causing Dean and Birdie to look towards him in confusion.

"What are those?" Dean asked.

"The old man's," Sam gruffly answered. "Trust me, you don't want him behind the wheel."

Before Dean could question him about it, Doris appeared at the end of the table with a friendly smile. Birdie sucked in a shaky breath, glancing aside as her eyes landed on the older woman. "You three ready?"

"Uh, yes, we are," Dean answered, softly smiling at Doris. "I'll have the special, side of bacon and a coffee."

"I-I'll have the same," Birdie softly said, faintly smiling at Doris.

"Hey, Doris? What I'd like is for you to log in some more hours at the archery range. You're a terrible shot," Sam answered. Birdie's eyes instantly darted towards Sam, a quick flash of Doris accidentally shooting Dean with an arrow popping into her mind.

What the fuck was that?

Doris knitted her brows together in confusion, suspiciously peering down at Sam. "How do you know that?"

"Lucky guess," Sam softly answered with a nod.

Doris silently looked towards Dean, seeing him send her a quick smile. Then she turned away, leaving the trio alone once again. Birdie carefully eyed Sam, twisting her lips in thought.

Dean silently stared across the table at Sam, speaking after a few moments. "Okay, so you think you're caught in some kind of what, again?"

"Time loop," Sam said with an unhappy expression etched on his face. Birdie shifted in the seat, her lips falling open as flashes of Dean dying, again and again, appeared in her mind. As it did so, her eyes flickered to Sam, a sudden thought dawning on her.

The entire walk to the diner, Sam had tried his best to explain that they were living the same day over and over, but only Sam remembered each day. Birdie hadn't been so sure at first, but then she got the strongest sensation of deja vu she'd ever had when they crossed the street, feeling like she remembered seeing something terrible happen when one of them crossed the street, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it.

"Like Groundhog Day."

"Doesn't matter. There's no way to stop it."

"Jeez, aren't you grumpy."

"Yeah, I am. You wanna know why?" Sam firmly asked, tilting his head with his eye slightly narrowed. "Because this is the hundredth Tuesday in a row I've been through, and it never stops. Ever. So yeah, I'm a little grumpy." Birdie ran a stressed hand along the side of her face as realization began to dawn on her, going to speak up but Sam spoke again. "Hot sauce."

"What?"

Doris suddenly arrived with Dean and Birdie's coffee and a bottle of hot sauce seconds later. "Coffee——black——and some hot sauce for the——whoops! Crap!" Sam swiftly caught the hot sauce and slid it across the table, not even batting an eye as he did so like it was second nature to him. "Thanks."

Doris faintly smiled and turned away as Dean blinked in surprise. "Nice reflexes."

"I knew it was going to happen, Dean. I know everything that's gonna happen."

"You don't know everything."

"Yeah, I do," Sam stated.

"Yeah, right," Dean said, his expression hardening as Sam said the same thing. "Nice guess," they said in unison.

Birdie twisted in her seat, leaning back slightly as she propped her head upon her hand. She had no idea what was going on, but she knew something strange was going on, and for some reason, she was only being made aware of it until now. "It wasn't a guess."

"Right, you're a mind reader. Cut it out, Sam. Sam." Birdie furrowed her brows, seeing the brothers simultaneously lean towards each other, elbows propped on the table. "You think you're being funny but you're being really, really childish! Sam Winchester wears makeup. Sam Winchester cries his way through sex. Sam Winchester keeps a ruler by the bed and every morning when he wakes up, he——"

Dean hastily threw his hands up, leaning back in the booth in frustration. "Okay, enough!" he let out a huff, turning towards Birdie. "Can you believe him?" he asked, but both his and Sam's eyes enlarged when she said the same words he did.

Sam's eyes widened, looking towards Birdie in complete disbelief. "Wha——you-you actually remember?"

Birdie ran a stressful hand along her face, letting out a shaky sigh. "I, uh, yeah," she confessed. "I mean, I wasn't exactly sure at first, but then I. . ."

"You what?" Sam and Dean pressed.

"I remembered getting Dean's blood splattered on my face," she softly replied, wanting to make sure she wasn't overheard. She momentarily closed her eyes, vividly remembering the deaths as they appeared almost like someone was returning her memories to her one by one.

"But how the fuck is that possible?" Sam questioned.

Birdie shook her head, shrugging. "I-I don't know, but I wish I knew."

Dean heavily sighed. "So now I'm the only one who doesn't remember anything?"

"Yeah, and you're the only one dying," Birdie reminded him. But, then she suddenly gasped, her eyes widening in horror as she stared at Dean. "Oh my god, I. . ." she turned her head towards Sam, a prominent frown appearing on her lip. "I'm one of the reasons you died!"

"Birdie——"

"I killed you!" Birdie exclaimed, eyes widening when realizing she'd spoken a little louder than she was intending. Her wide eyes nervously glanced around the diner, seeing most eyes had fallen on her and the boys.

"In a video game. She killed me in a-a video game last night——she's uh, she's still a little upset I beat her," Dean easily lied, laughing it off with a wave of his hand. Birdie sank back into the seat, pushing her head into her hands. "What exactly do you mean you killed me?"

"It was an accident," Sam said, letting out a sigh. "I, uh, I. . .accidentally killed you, too."

Birdie lifted her head, puffing out her cheeks. "Oh, yeah, that was much worse than me knocking you down a set of stairs."

Dean's eyes visibly widened, glancing between Sam and Birdie in bewilderment. Sam huffed to himself, holding his hand out. "The point is you die every day, Dean, and nothing me or-or Bird have done to fix it has worked."

"There's gotta be some way to stop whatever the fuck is goin' on," Dean said. "This isn't just randomly happening to us."

"That's not all, though," Sam said, stealing a glance to the side. "Randy, the cashier? He's skimming from the register. Judge Myers?" Sam continued, nudging his head towards an older man who was sitting at the counter and sipping on chocolate milk, "At night, he puts on a furry bunny outfit."

Upon overhearing Sam's bold statement, the man accidentally knocked over his drink. Dean raised his brows, stealing a glance towards Birdie. She pursed her lips, nodding her head as a silent confirmation.

"Over there——that's Cal," Sam continued, looking towards a man at the corner of the counter. "He's gonna rob Tony the mechanic on the way home."

"What's your point?"

"My point is I've lived through every possible Tuesday. I've watched you die every possible way. And-and so has Bird, but. . ." Sam sighed, glancing from Birdie and back over to Dean. A frown appeared on her lips, glancing down at her hands in her lap; every death made her heart ache more. "I have ripped apart the Mystery Spot, burnt it down, tried everything I know to save your life, and I can't. No matter what we do, you die. And then I-we wake up. And then it's Tuesday again."

Dean's gaze lingered on Sam, briefly turning his head towards Birdie. He saw Doris out of the corner of his eye, seeing her carrying their food towards the table. "We'll figure this out," Dean said, nodding as he spoke.

Birdie and Sam shared a look, silently nodding to Dean's words.

Birdie spotted the dog she'd run up to every Tuesday thus far just up ahead near the bike rack after they'd left the diner, deciding against running over to him this time.

"Wait, you're not gonna——" Sam started, turning his head towards Birdie when she didn't run over to the dog.

"Not this time," Birdie sighed, pursing her lips.

The dog barked at them as they passed by, whining when none of them didn't give him any attention. Birdie frowned, pausing as she turned to look back at the dog.

"Not now, Doctor Dolittle," Dean quietly huffed, grabbing her arm before she could rethink her decision and gently tugged her along. Birdie softly sighed, puffing out her cheeks as she faced forward again. Dean chuckled under his breath, shaking his head. "There's gotta be some way out of this."

"Where's my dang keys?" Sam said, not acknowledging what Dean said.

They carefully walked around Mr. Pickett as he searched his pockets, completely unaware that Sam had stolen them from him that morning. "Where's my dang keys?" he asked aloud, a frown on his lips as he failed to locate his keys.

"Excuse me," Sam continued.

Dean's shoulder collided with a blonde girl's just like before. "Excuse me."

"She's kinda cute," Dean said, chuckling as he gestured in the woman's direction with his thumb. After a few more steps, Dean put his hand out to stop Sam and Birdie as a thought occurred to him. "Hey. All the times we've walked down this street, I ever do this?" Dean turned towards the woman, calling out after her before Sam or Birdie could respond. "Excuse me, miss!"

Sam and Birdie's gaze followed the oldest Winchester with their brows knitted together. "No."

Birdie intently watched the woman give Dean one of the papers she was carrying in her arms, giving him a sad smile before she started to walk down the sidewalk again.

Dean made his way back over to Sam and Birdie, catching Sam's eye. "A hundred Tuesdays, you never bothered to check what she was holdin' in her hands?" Sam nonchalantly shrugged. Dean held up the flyer, giving Sam and Birdie the chance to see that it was a missing person's poster. "This the guy who went missing?"

Sam and Birdie read over the name, seeing Dexter Hasselback written under the picture of the man. "Yeah," Birdie said.

"That's his daughter back there," Dean stated, nudging his head towards the woman.

Sam quickly grabbed the flyer and ran after the blonde, leaving Dean and Birdie behind. "Ma'am? Ah, Miss?"

The dog they'd passed growled as they stood a few feet away from him, barking at the two of them. Birdie softly smiled as she looked towards the dog, breathing out a laugh as Dean leaned over to pet him. "Hey buddy! Somebody need a friend? Good boy——aaah!"

Birdie let out a faint gasp, staggering to the side as she suddenly found herself standing in front of the sink of their motel room. Her toothbrush was tightly clutched in hand, her toothpaste already on top of it. She turned her head, flinching when the clock suddenly turned on, Heat of the Moment starting to play as Sam's eyes snapped open.

Sam quickly sat up, catching Birdie's eye. "Oh my god."

Dean's head snapped towards her, giving her a look. "Oh, come on, I thought you liked this song, too!"

Birdie shook her head, her gaze falling on Sam again as she tilted her head to one side. "I'm already over this."

Almost an hour later the three of them were seated at the diner. Birdie had breezed through brushing her teeth and getting dressed, her and Sam wanting to get an early start at looking more into Dexter Hassleback to see if they could find out what happened to him. They weren't sure if it would connect to what was currently happening with them, but it was still something, and that was more than what they had.

Dean still wasn't entirely sure what was happening, but he knew enough that there was more than one strange thing going on. Sam and Birdie had filled Dean in on more about Dexter Hassleback on their way to the diner, having managed to find out some more about the man the day before when Sam found Dexter's daughter early in the morning to talk to her about her father; hopefully, he'd find out something to go off of before Dean died again. Birdie had stayed behind at the motel to keep an eye on Dean, but unfortunately, death struck once again——he accidentally knocked down the window curtains and the rod hit him in the head. Birdie didn't have any time to react, finding herself suddenly standing in front of the bathroom sink with Dean tying his boots as Heat of the Moment blared from the clock again. And, sadly, Dean continued to die as Sam and Birdie worked together to gather as much information on Dexter Hassleback as they could, hoping it'd help them piece together what was happening to them.

Dean was content as he ate his breakfast, Birdie munching on her own as she sat beside Sam instead, the two of them carefully examining what he had pulled up on his laptop.

"So the police report says Dexter Hasselback is a professor, but that's not all he is," Sam explained.

"What is he?" Dean asked.

"I talked to his daughter. Guy's quite the journalist. Columns in magazines, a blog," Sam said. Birdie's eyes flickered to an older man when she saw movement out of the corner of her eye, seeing him leave the counter. "He writes about tourist attractions——Mystery spots, UFO crash sites——he gets his kicks debunking them. I mean, he's already put four of these places out of business. Here."

Sam turned the laptop to face Dean for him to see a biography of Dexter Hasselback. "Dexter Hasselback, truth warrior?" Dean read aloud, judgment evident in his voice. "More like a pompous schmuck, you ask me."

"Yeah, no shit," Birdie huffed in agreement, taking a sip of her coffee.

Sam nodded in agreement. "I mean, we've read everything the guy's ever written. He must have weighed a ton, he was so full of himself."

"When'd you guys have time to do all this research?" Dean wondered.

"Come on," Sam said, picking up his laptop as he and Birdie purposely ignored Dean's question. Birdie took one more sip of her coffee, picking up her last pig 'n poke from her plate and climbing out of the seat after Sam. Dean chuckled as he followed suit, causing Sam and Birdie to questionably look over at him as Sam slung his bag over his shoulder. "What?"

"I just, it's just funny, you know, I mean, this guy spends his whole life crapping on Mystery Spots and then he vanishes into one," Dean replied. "It's kinda poetic, you know, like just desserts."

Sam breathed out a faint laugh as Dean started to head towards the door, reaching for his wallet. "You're right, that is just desserts."

Birdie shook her head with a small smile, going to follow Dean until Sam stopped her. "What's up?" she softly asked, following his gaze where he was staring at a plate of a partially eaten pancake with pink syrup.

Dean walked back over with a frown, him and Birdie questionably eying Sam. Sam turned, eyeing the man who'd been eating the pancakes as he walked past the diner windows to go about his day. "Guy has maple syrup for the last hundred Tuesdays——all of a sudden he's having strawberry?"

"It's a free country," Dean said, shrugging it off. "Man can't choose his own syrup, huh? What have we become?"

"Not in this diner. Not today," Sam said, firmly shaking his head. Realization dawned on Birdie, remembering seeing maple syrup beside the man every morning——every morning except that one. "Nothing in this place ever changes——ever. Except me and Birdie."

Suddenly, Birdie found herself waking up one of the motel beds, Dean sitting on the other side of her as Heat of the Moment echoed inside the room.

"Rise and shine, Sammy!"

Birdie sharply spun around, seeing Sam slowly sit up in the bed with his eyes narrowed. Dean grinned between them, but his smile immediately fell when he noticed their expressions. "Guys, it's just a song," Dean said, scoffing as he reached over to turn it up louder.

Birdie raised a brow in his direction, merely shaking her head. "If you don't turn that thing off in the next three seconds, I'm gonna stab you."

Dean just laughed, standing up and heading in her direction. "No you won't. You love me too much."

Rather than responding to him Birdie just sighed, turning her attention back to Sam. He stood by his bed, quickly shrugging on a flannel over his plain, gray shirt. Birdie stole a glance at Dean, seeing he was getting ready to brush his teeth with a small smile still evident on his lips. She twisted her lips, facing Sam. "What the fuck just happened? Dean didn't die."

"The guy from the diner," Sam told her. "It's him."

"How-how is this even possible? What kind of thing could be doing all of this?"

Sam faintly shook his head. "I don't. . ." he lifted his head, a shaky breath leaving his lips as a thought occurred to him. "A trickster," he breathed out, looking at Birdie.

Dean furrowed his brows, turning towards them as some toothpaste coated his lips. "You two care to loop me in? What's goin' on?"

"Nothing," Sam answered, shaking his head.

"Sam," Birdie said, watching him walk towards the door. He paused by the door, peering at her over his shoulder.

"I. . .just trust me on this, alright?" Sam said, opening the door as he grabbed the Impala keys from the table off to the side. "I need to get something out of the trunk."

Birdie silently nodded her head, nudging her head towards Dean as a smile started to creep onto her lips. "I'll keep an eye on him."

Sam returned the smile, exiting out of the room to head to the Impala. "Keep an eye on me?" Dean huffed, causing Birdie to look towards him. "Do I need a babysitter now?"

"For now, yes, you do," Birdie cheekily answered, heading over to brush her tooth in front of the other sink.

"Alright, what the hell is going on?" Dean asked, spitting out the toothpaste.

Birdie let out a sigh, spitting out some excess toothpaste. "It's. . .just know we, or well, Sam, might have an idea about what's actually going on here."

"Okay, and?" Dean pressed. "Care to fill me in?"

Birdie quickly finished brushing her teeth, rinsing out her mouth. She dabbed at the corners of her mouth with a towel, turning to face Dean. "Sam and I are reliving the same day over and over and over again."

Dean scoffed, clearly not believing her. But, when he realized that she wasn't laughing or smiling along with him, his smile curled into a frown. "Come on, you can't be serious," Dean said. "How could that even be possible?"

"I don't know," Birdie answered with a shrug. "But, Sam seems to have an idea, so. . ."

Dean rolled his eyes, grumbling under his breath. Birdie let out a sigh, watching him head into the bathroom. He'd get over it.

Birdie took advantage of both of the brothers being out of the room to change her clothes, thankfully finishing up just as Sam returned with a bag in hand. She turned her head at the sound of the door opening, softly smiling at Sam as he entered, holding a brown paper bag in hand. She furrowed her brows, suspiciously eying the older man. "What's in the bag?"

"Something that'll kill a trickster," Sam answered, setting it down on the bed. "You ever deal with one?"

"No, but I know you and Dean have," she answered, a hint of amusement etched in her voice as she laced up her boots.

"Where'd you hear that?"

"Do you even have to ask?" Birdie snickered, standing up and pushing her curls over her shoulders.

Sam breathed out a laugh, his dimples slightly poking out. "Bobby, 'course."

"Of course, I also pestered him about it after he told me the trickster made you two think you were pulling pranks on each other again," Birdie said. Sam huffed, softly chuckling along with Birdie. "But Sam. . ."

"You trust me, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"Good," Sam smiled, picking up the bag just as Dean exited the bathroom. He shifted, giving Dean a forced smile. "How does breakfast sound?"

The man who'd been eating pancakes with the strawberry syrup had gone back to maple the next morning as if he knew Sam had noticed his sudden change of syrup. Behind him just like every Tuesday morning, Dean was eating his breakfast while Sam and Birdie kept stealing glances at the white-haired man, waiting for him to leave the diner.

"So you two seriously think you're caught in some kind of what again?" Dean asked, his brows furrowed together.

"Eat your breakfast," Sam shortly replied, briefly looking at Dean before he went back to staring at the man. Birdie ate her last piece of bacon, peering around Sam when she saw the man suddenly move from his seat.

He stood up from the chair seconds later, turning away and heading to the front register to pay. Birdie quickly set her silverware down, swiftly sliding out of the seat after Sam and handing him a brown paper bag.

"What's in the bag?" Dean asked from his seat across the table, confusion washing over his features as Sam and Birdie hurried towards the exit without sparing him another glance.

He quickly stood up, tossing some money on the table before hurrying after Sam and Birdie.

"You're still sure about this?" Birdie whispered, stealing a glance aside at Sam.

"Yes," Sam firmly answered. He reached into the brown bag, discreetly pulling out what looked like a small, wooden stake.

The older man casually walked down the street and past a gas station, picking at his teeth with a toothpick as Sam and Birdie quickly tailed him. Sam fastened his pace, roughly grabbing the man and slamming him into the nearby fence; thankfully, no one else was around at the moment or else they might've wound up with another issue on their hands. He pointed the stake at the man's neck, Birdie and Dean standing on both sides of Sam.

"Hey!" the man shouted, horror on his face as he stared up at Sam.

"I know who you are. Or should I say——what," Sam said, his grip tightening on the man.

"Oh my god. Please don't kill me," the man helplessly begged, heavily breathing in Sam's tight grasp.

"Uh, Sam?" Dean asked, staring wide-eyed at his brother. Then his eyes flickered to Birdie, knowing she would've usually tried talking some sense into Sam at the moment, but she wasn't this time. "Birdie?"

Birdie looked up, silently shaking her head when they locked eyes.

"It took me a hell of a long time, but I got it," Sam sneered.

"What?" the man asked in disbelief.

"It's your m.o. that gave you away," Sam explained. Dean looked from Sam and back to the man; if it wasn't for Dean pointing out the irony of Dexter Hassleback going missing while trying to debunk a mystery spot, he most likely wouldn't have figured it out just yet. "Going after pompous jerks, giving them their just desserts——your kind loves that, don't they?"

"Yeah, sure, okay," the man shakily breathed out, nervously glancing towards the sharpened stake. "Just put the stake down!"

"Sam, maybe you should——"

"No! There's only one creature powerful enough to do what you're doing——making reality out of nothing, sticking people in time loops. In fact, you'd pretty much have to be a god. You'd have to be a trickster."

"Mister, my name is Ed Coleman, my wife's name is Amelia, I got two kids——for cryin' out loud, I sell ad space!"

"Don't fucking lie to me! I know what you are! We've killed one of your kind before!"

Birdie twisted her lips, beginning to wonder if they were right until the man suddenly stopped fidgeting in Sam's grasp, morphing into someone else.

He was younger than the first man, now having light brown hair that was styled back with the ends slightly curled outwards. He shot Sam a cheeky grin, and by the looks on Sam and Dean's faces, Birdie got the impression they'd met before. "Actually, bucko, you didn't," he said, having a different voice than the man he'd been posing as just mere seconds ago.

"Why are you doing this?" Sam demanded to know, anger obvious on his face. Birdie shifted beside Sam, tightly clenching her jaw.

"You're joking, right?" the trickster scoffed, giving Sam a pointed look. "You two chuckleheads tried to kill me last time. Why wouldn't I do this?"

"And Hasselback——what about him?" Dean questioned next.

"That putz? He said he didn't believe in wormholes, so I dropped him in one," the trickster honestly answered, laughing in pure amusement. "Then you guys showed up. I made you the second you hit town."

"So this is fun for you? Killing Dean over and over again?"

"One——yes, it is fun. And two——this is so not about killing Dean," the trickster replied, briefly glancing towards Birdie before returning his gaze to Sam. "This joke is on you, Sam. Watching your brother die, every day? Forever?"

"You son of a bitch," Sam seethed.

"How long will it take you to realize. . .you can't save your brother. . .no matter what?" the tricker asked in a taunting manner.

"You're a real fuckin' dick, you know that?" Birdie snapped, causing the trickster to look in her direction.

"And as for you, toots——I stopped wiping your memory because I thought maybe you could talk some sense into Sammy, but apparently I was wrong."

"Oh yeah?" Sam asked. "I kill you, this all ends now."

"Oh-oh, hey, whoa!" the trickster exclaimed, shifting as Sam tightened his grip on him and pushed the stake further against his neck. "Okay. Look. I was just fuckin' around. You can't take a joke, fine. You're out of it. Tomorrow, you wake up, it'll be Wednesday. I swear."

"You're lying."

"If I am, you know where to find me——having pancakes at the diner."

Sam silently looked between Dean and Birdie, then back at the trickster, still breathing heavily with a hard look on his face; they weren't going to let him go. "No. Easier to just kill you."

"Sorry, kiddo. Can't have that," the tricker said, snapping his fingers.

"I'll be back in time!"

Birdie sucked in a deep breath, finding herself awakening on one of the beds back in the motel room. She blinked up at the plain white ceiling, her brows furrowing together when realizing Heat of the Moment was no longer playing and instead was one of the songs she recognized from Back to the Future.

"What, you two gonna sleep all day?" Dean wondered, seeing Sam and Birdie sitting up in the beds as he stood by the sink, his toothbrush in hand.

"No Asia," Sam noted, a glint of hope sparking inside his chest.

"Yeah, I know," Dean huffed, dropping his toothbrush back onto the counter. "This station sucks."

Sam turned his head towards the clock, seeing it read Wednesday. Sam gasped, a smile appearing on his lips as he looked towards Birdie. "It's Wednesday!"

Birdie's eyes widened, rolling onto the other side of the bed to see for herself. She grinned as she leaned over to look at the clock as well, seeing that it was Wednesday.

"Yeah, which usually comes after Tuesday," Dean snarkily reminded them, dabbing at his mouth with a towel. "Turn that thing off, will you?"

Sam's smile only widened as he kicked the blankets off of him, climbing out of the bed. "What, are you kidding me? This isn't the most beautiful song you've ever heard?"

"So much better than that damn Asia song," Birdie murmured, swinging her legs over the bed to stand up as well. Her eyes fell on Dean, her smile brightening as the loop had finally been ended; Dean wouldn't die just yet.

"No, it's not the most beautiful song I've heard," Dean replied, taking a few steps closer to Birdie and Sam, seeing Sam was quickly rummaging through his duffel bag as he sat on the end of the bed. "Damn, how many Tuesdays did you guys have?"

Sam picked up a long-sleeved shirt, shrugging it on over his T-shirt. Birdie softly sighed, pushing her hair out of her face. "I don't know. I lost count," he answered. "Hey, wait. What do you remember?"

"I remember you and Bird were pretty whacked out of it yesterday, and then I remember runnin' into the trickster. But no, that's about it."

"All right. Pack your stuff, let's get the hell out of town——now."

"No breakfast?"

"No breakfast," Sam and Birdie simultaneously answered.

Dean huffed but went along with it, grabbing his bag to start loading up the trunk of the impala. Birdie let out a content sigh, setting her bag on the bed to find a change of clothes. "Do you really think the trickster stopped the loop?" Birdie wondered, grabbing some jeans and a black and gray flannel, laying them over her arm as she stood up straight.

Sam heavily sighed as he picked up some of his clothes up off the floor, stuffing them in his bag. "I don't know, but I wanna get the hell outta here before he changes his mind."

"Then it's back to lookin' for Bela?" Birdie wondered.

"Yeah," Sam answered, glancing towards the younger woman. "Are you-are you gonna stick with us?"

Birdie pursed her lips in thought, starting to back up towards the bathroom. "I don't know yet," she answered, a coy grin starting to form on her lips. "Depends on how much more you and Dean annoy me."

Sam chuckled, rolling his eyes at her response. Birdie giggled and headed into the bathroom, quietly closing the door behind her. She quickly got changed, puffing out her cheeks as she returned to her bag, stuffing her dirty clothes inside; she'd just wash them the next she was at Bobby's or Kaiya's.

Sam was nearly done packing up when Birdie exited the bathroom, having put Dean's forgotten clothes in his own bag. Birdie picked up her phone charger that had fallen beside the bedside table and crammed it into her purse, huffing as it was nearly overflowing with random items and mismatched socks. She shook her head and slung it over her shoulder. "I'm gonna head down," she told Sam, offering him a small smile when he looked over at her.

"I'll be down in a sec," Sam said, faintly nodding his head towards the woman.

Birdie smiled again and walked out of the door, letting out a content sigh; she was more than ready to get the hell out of there and go anywhere else. But seconds later, she felt her heart stop at the sound of a gunshot coming from nearby.

Her mind immediately thought of Dean, eyes tripling in size almost like she already knew what happened. "Dean!" Birdie hastily shouted, sprinting towards the stairs while her bag slipped from her arm and tumbled down the concrete stairs. She hurried down them, spotting Dean laid on the ground, a shaggy-haired man gaping down at him, a gun in his hand; she recognized him as Cal from the diner——the one who'd been robbing Tony the mechanic every Tuesday. "NO!"

The man gasped, turning on his heel to flee the scene of his crime. Birdie hurried forward, already feeling tears spring in her eyes as she saw blood pouring from the wound in Dean's chest.

"Dean!" Birdie heard Sam shout not too far behind, racing to his brother's aid.

Birdie sank to her knees beside Dean, watching the man race around the corner. Sam hurried over, sinking to his knees on the other side of Dean.

He hastily picked Dean up, holding him in his arms just like he did the first time Dean had "died" after being shot by Mr. Carpiak. "No, no, no no no, hey, hey, come on, not today, not today," Sam said, heavily panting. "This isn't supposed to happen today. Come on——"

Dean didn't move a single muscle, his eyes peacefully closed as he laid limp in Sam's arms.

Sam clenched his eyes shut, waiting to wake up and have to start the day all over again. But, nothing happened. He opened his eyes, seeing Dean still in his arms and unmoving. He let out a shaky breath, sharing a panicked look with Birdie. "We're supposed to wake up," he said. "Why aren't we waking up?"

"I-I. . .I don't know," Birdie sniffled, her eyes flicking back down to Dean's body. Was. . .was he really gone? "I don't know."

⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅

TWO MONTHS LATER

"Hey, Sam. It's me. . .Bird. . .again. I, uh, I was just callin' to check on you. It's been a while since we talked so I just thought maybe. . .uh. . .but if you need anything——anything at all——I'm here."

Beep.

"Hey, Sammy. You know, it's been a while since we talked, or even saw each other. . .I miss you, Sam. Bobby told me you took down an entire nest of vamps by yourself, but I'm-I'm worried about you. Call me back, please?"

"Hey, Bird? It's Bobby. Can you meet me at the Mystery Spot tonight? I think I got a way to find the trickster."

"Are you really sure about this, Bird?" Birdie sighed, pushing her hair over her shoulder as she sat on her motorcycle, her phone pressed to her ear with Kaiya on the other end. As soon as she heard the voicemail she'd gotten from Bobby, she left Kaiya's house and headed straight for the Mystery Spot. Kaiya attempted to talk her out of it as she figured the trickster was most likely the one behind the call, but if so, she needed to find out for herself. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"Yes, I'm sure. I need to do this," Birdie replied, setting her helmet on the ground. She swung her leg over the bike, her eyes snapping up when she heard the familiar rumble of an engine. Her lips fell open in surprise, watching the Impala pull into the parking spot beside her. "Hey, Flo? I'll call you when I'm done. I gotta go."

"Birdie, just wait a second——"

"I'll be fine, I promise." Birdie didn't leave for argument, hanging up on Kaiya and letting her hand fall to her side. She stood up, sucking in a deep breath as she watched Sam climb out of the driver's side of the Impala. He slammed the door shut, catching Birdie's gaze over the roof of Dean's car. "Hey, Sam."

"Hey," Sam said, not even offering her the faintest smile. "Did Bobby call you?"

She nodded, tucking her hands in the pocket of her jacket. "Yeah, he did."

Sam huffed, walking towards the trunk of the Impala. "I've been busy."

Birdie frowned, walking towards the trunk just as Sam opened it up. "Too busy to at least send me a text to let me know you're okay?"

"I'm standing in front of you, aren't I?"

Birdie sucked in a deep breath, rolling her eyes. "Sam——"

Sam grabbed a bag, slamming the trunk shut. He headed into the building without another glance in her direction, causing her frown to deepen. She momentarily closed her eyes, letting out a heavy breath. Then she walked over to her own bag that was secured to her bike, slinging it over her shoulder before entering the Mystery Spot. However, much to her surprise, Sam was there waiting for her.

"What're you━━━"

"You really think Bobby called us here?"

Birdie twisted her lips, adjusting her grip on her bag. "Honestly? I don't fucking know. But, just in case," she said, gesturing to her bag, "I brought some supplies."

Sam nodded. "Good, I did, too."

"Do you really think it's the trickster?" Birdie wondered, walking down the hall with Sam a few steps in front of her.

"Yes," Sam said, turning towards Birdie. "And, you know, he's gonna pretend he's Bobby. I'm sure there's something up his sleeve, but we have to go along with it until we can kill him. You think you can do that?"

Birdie momentarily paused, giving him a look. "Did you seriously just ask me that?"

"Have to be sure," Sam nonchalantly shrugged, fastening his pace.

Birdie scoffed, mimicking him under her breath.

Bobby was kneeling on the floor of the Mystery Spot, turning the pages of a book that was placed dead center of a chalked diagram with three candles and bowls full of something Birdie wasn't even sure she wanted to know of.

She quietly came up beside Sam, not bothering to look in his direction as she sat her bag beside Sam's just outside the entryway.

Bobby heard their footsteps, standing up when he saw it was Sam and Birdie. "It's good to see you, boy," he told Sam, turning towards Birdie next. "You too, kiddo."

He headed to Sam first, hugging him, but Sam didn't respond. Birdie twisted her lips, offering Bobby a small smile as he pulled away from Sam to give her a hug. She held him close, letting out a sigh as they let go a few seconds later.

"What are we doin' here, Bobby?" Sam asked, wanting to get straight to the point.

"Well, it's the last place we're sure the trickster worked his magic," Bobby answered.

"So?"

"So, you want this thing?" Bobby asked Sam, giving him a look. He backed up, still facing Sam and Birdie as he headed towards the circle. "I found a summoning ritual to bring the trickster here."

"What do we need?" Sam asked, taking a few steps further into the room. Birdie shifted, taking a few steps toward the left.

"Blood."

Birdie frowned, folding her arms over her chest. "How much?"

"Ritual says near a gallon," Bobby answered, briefly twisting his lips. Sam walked a little closer, his eyes pinned to Bobby. "And it's gotta be fresh, too."

Sam raised his brows as Birdie's shoulders sank. "Meaning we have to bleed a person dry."

"And it's gotta be tonight, or not for another fifty years," Bobby said.

Birdie sighed, closing her eyes as her head fell forward. So much for that plan.

"Then let's go get some."

Sam turned to leave and took a few steps, but neither Bobby nor Birdie moved to follow him. Sam stopped, looking between them. Birdie stared at him with surprise, brows knitted together.

"You break my heart, kid," Bobby softly told him.

"What?" Sam sharply asked, eyes slightly narrowed at the older man.

"I'm not gonna let you murder an innocent man," Bobby said.

"Then why'd you bring me here?"

"Why? 'Cause it was the only way you'd see me. 'Cause I'm trying to knock some sense into you, and I know Bird has been too." Bobby said, stepping closer to Sam as he spoke. "Because I thought you'd back down from killing a man!"

"Well, you thought wrong," Sam said. Bobby narrowed his eyes, briefly glancing towards Birdie to see her frown had deepened and her eyes were full of sorrow. "Leave the stuff, I'll do it myself."

"Sam, surely you can't be serious," Birdie said, looking at her friend with disbelief.

Sam didn't even look in her direction when she spoke, only clenching his jaw as any kind of indication that he heard her.

"I told you——I'm not gonna let you kill a man," Bobby said.

"It's none of your fucking business what I do!" Sam shouted, anger and frustration bubbling up inside him.

"You want your brother back so bad?" Bobby leaned down and pulled a knife out of his bag that was beside him, holding it out to Sam for him to take. "Fine."

Sam questionably eyed the knife. "What are you talkin' about?"

"Better me than a civilian," Bobby said, holding the knife out to Sam.

Birdie stepped closer, hands limp at her sides. "Bobby!"

"You're crazy, Bobby. I'm not killing you."

"Oh, now I'm the crazy one," Bobby bitterly retorted. Sam silently stared at him. Birdie walked closer, her lips curled into a frown as she stood to the side of Sam and Bobby. "Look, Sam, I'm old, I'm coming near the end of my trail. But you can keep fighting, savin' folk. But you need your brother. So let me give him back to you."

"Bobby━━━"

"You, Dean, and Bird are the closest thing I have to family. I want to do this."

Sam hesitated, partially looking down as he took the knife with tears beginning to loom inside his eyes. "Okay."

"Good." Bobby let out a shaky breath, slowly turning around. Then he kneeled on the ground, back still facing Sam and Birdie. "Just make it quick."

"Bobby, no. . ." Birdie whispered.

"It's okay, Birdie. I want this," Bobby assured her, sucking in a deep breath. "Do it, son."

"Yeah, okay, Bobby," Sam said, quietly pulling a stake out of his jacket, handing the knife to Birdie. She frowned as she took it, keeping her eyes pinned to Bobby; it had to be trickster. "But you wanna know why?" Sam roughly grabbed Bobby around the throat and forcefully shoved the stake through his back, the tip sticking out from the front of his chest. Birdie winced, turning her head slightly as the squishing sound echoed in her ears. "Because you're not Bobby."

Sam twisted the stake, blood spurting out of the wound and decorating the floor. Bobby stilled in Sam's grip, body falling forward with a thud. Sam let go of him with a grunt, standing up as he stared down at Bobby.

Nothing happened.

l"Bobby?" Sam said, doubt beginning to fill him as well as Birdie. Birdie slowly stepped up beside him, her eyes tripling in size.

Bobby's corpse vanished into thin air before Birdie could speak, the bloodied stake falling onto the floor. It wobbled on the ground, a gasp escaping Birdie's lips as it zoomed between her and Sam and straight into the hands of the trickster.

Sam and Birdie instantly turned, seeing the trickster flash them a cheeky smile.

"You're right. I was just fuckin' with you two. Pretty good, though, Sam. Smart," he said, taking a few steps further into the room. "Let me tell ya, whoever said Dean was the dysfunctional one has never seen you with a sharp object in your hands. Holy Full Metal Jacket."

"Bring him back."

"Who, Dean?" the trickster asked. "Didn't my girl send you flowers? Dean's dead. He ain't coming back. His soul's downstairs doing the hellfire rumba as we speak."

"Just take us back to that Tuesday, or Wednesday, when it all started, please. We won't come after you. I swear."

"You swear?" the trickster repeated, clearly not believing him.

"Yes."

"We were already planning on letting you go after you stopped the loop," Birdie reminded him, sharply narrowing her eyes at the man. "Then you had to go and fuck things up."

"I don't know. Even if I could——"

"You can," Sam interjected.

"True. But that don't mean I should," the trickster said. "Sam, and uh. . ." the trickster paused, chuckling as he motioned towards Birdie with his hand, "What was your name again?"

"Fuck you, asshole."

"I think I'm startin' to like you," he said, flashing her a cheeky smile. Birdie grimaced, shooting him a nasty glare. He let out a sigh after a few seconds, looking between the two. "There's a lesson here that I've been trying to drill into that freakish Cro-Magnon skull of yours, Sam. But you, little bird, would do good to take notes."

"Lesson?" Sam questioned. "What lesson?"

"This obsession to save Dean," the trickster said, stepping closer to Sam. Birdie tensed, clenching her jaw as her hands balled into fists. "The way you two keep sacrificing yourselves for each other? Nothing good comes out of it. Just blood and pain. Dean's your weakness. And the bad guys know it, too. It's gonna be the death of you, Sam," he said, backing away. "Sometimes you just gotta let people go."

"He's my brother," Sam tearfully said.

"Yup. And like it or not, this is what life's gonna be like without him."

Birdie deeply frowned, stealing a glance towards Sam. No, that couldn't be how life would turn out without Dean around. She shook her head, helplessly looking towards the trickster. "Please," she asked, catching his gaze. The trickster scoffed, shaking his head. "We just want what time we have left with him."

The trickster heavily sighed, lowering his head as he shook it. "I swear, it's like talkin' to a brick walls with you two," he said, looking between Sam and Birdie. "Okay, look. This all stopped bein' fun weeks ago. You're Travis Bickle in a skirt, pal with Betsy here as your sidekick. I'm over it."

"Meaning what?" Sam wanted to know, he and Birdie closely watching the trickster walk towards the doorway.

"Meaning that's for me to know and you two to find out," he answered. Then he snapped his fingers, his smirk being the last thing Birdie saw before she found herself splayed on a semi-soft surface.

"Promise me I'll be back in time."

A gasp escaped Birdie's lips as she shot up, nearly tumbling out of the bed.

"What, you two gonna sleep all day?" Dean asked, standing by the bathroom sink, brushing his teeth as he glanced towards his brother who was simply staring at him. "I know, no Asia," he said, taking a few steps towards him with a smile on his lips before it fell. "This station sucks."

Sam and Birdie checked the clock for themselves, sharing a silent look with each other. "It's Wednesday," Sam softly said, looking back towards Dean. He was alive.

"Yeah, usually comes after Tuesday," Dean reminded them, heading back towards the sink. "Turn that thing off."

Sam hastily threw the covers off of his body, heading over to Dean and pulled him into a hug without a second thought. Birdie softly smiled and reached over to the bedside table, switching off the clock as she stood up. Her eyes were pinned to Dean, thankful to see him again. Part of her wondered why the trickster still let her remember everything that had happened after returning them to Wednesday, but she wasn't going to question it right now. Dean was back and alive, and Birdie would make sure he stayed that way for as long as possible.

"Dude, how many Tuesdays did you guys have?" Dean wondered, his eyes flicking towards Birdie to see the worn expression on her features.

"Enough," Sam said, pulling away after a few seconds.

Birdie came over and yanked Dean into her arms, holding onto him tightly. "More than enough," she whispered.

Dean hugged her back, eying the two of them as he and Birdie pulled away.

"Wait. What do you remember?" Sam asked.

"I remember you and Bird were pretty whacked out of it yesterday," Dean answered. "I remember runnin' into the trickster. That's about it."

Sam nodded. "Let's go."

"No breakfast?"

Sam breathed out a forced laugh. "No breakfast."

"All right, I'll pack the car," Dean said, starting to head in the direction of the door.

"No!" Birdie hastily shouted in protest, her eyes incredibly wide as she stared at Dean.

"You're not going anywhere alone," Sam firmly told him.

"It's the parking lot, guys," Dean said with a scoff.

"Just. . .just trust us."

Dean brushed it off, instead grabbing his bag to pack up his things. Birdie smiled in relief, snatching up her hoodie and slipping it on over her shirt. Sam packed up his belongings as well, stealing glances towards Dean every few minutes like he was making sure Dean was really there.

Birdie slung her bag over her shoulder, examining the room one last time to make sure she wasn't forgetting anything. Dean walked past and over to the door, opening it up. He turned to the side, looking between his brother and Birdie. "Hey, you guys don't look so good. Somethin' else happen?"

Sam remained silent for a moment, facing the bed as he responded. "I just had a really weird dream."

Dean glanced towards Birdie, seeing her sadly smile. "I'm just tired."

Dean faintly nodded, his gaze returning to Sam. "Clowns or midgets?" Sam looked up at the question, trying to smile when he saw Dean cheekily grin. Dean then turned, heading out of the room. Birdie wasted no time in following him, jogging a few steps ahead of him with her hand over her gun while her eyes carefully examined the parking lot.

"You sure nothin' else happened?" Dean wondered, raising a skeptical brow towards the woman as they rounded the Impala, stopping in front of the trunk.

Birdie knitted her brows, looking towards Dean. "Why do you ask?"

"I don't know, maybe 'cause you're grippin' your gun like you think the boogeyman's gonna jump us at any second," Dean answered, giving the woman an all too familiar look.

Birdie softly sighed, shaking her head. "Just. . .this whole case has all been a mess. I don't even. . .I'm just a lil paranoid."

Dean gave her a smile, opening up the trunk so they could pack their stuff inside. "That have anything to do with being stuck in an apparent time loop?" Dean questioned, setting one of the duffle bags in the trunk.

"You could say that," Birdie said, twisting her lips when her eyes fell to the ground.

"Hey," Dean said, placing a gentle hand on Birdie's shoulder. She looked up at the touch, seeing a smile on Dean's lips. "It's over, alright? We're all still alive and kickin', and it's gonna stay that way. It's gonna take more than some Mystery Spot to take down a Winchester, or a Fowler." Birdie warmly smiled back, a twinkle appearing in her eyes. "Besides," Dean said, taking her bag from her to put in the trunk, "We got a thieving bitch to catch still."

⋅ ∙ ∘ ☽ ༓ ☾ ∘ ⋅ ⋅

Yes, I changed the time Dean was gone in the episode, but six months felt like so long just for them to ignore how long Sam went without Dean???? Not to mention they never really addressed it elsewhere (at least I don't think so???) since Sam remembers what happened aside from Sam being even MORE keen on saving Dean, but I'm gonna be mentioning it and such throughout because that was pretty traumatic for Sam and Birdie. Like they constantly had to watch him die??? That 100% did some damage 💀

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