14. The Cassity Farm

I think I would rather take battling demons any day of the year than this. This right here is hard, manual labor, something I was never trained for. It's something my body is struggling to cope with due to my lack of strength.

Ellie put the three of us to work in the barn. Our task: cleaning out the horse stalls. Boy, are some of these loaded with shit. At first, I started out fine. But now, I'm winded almost every minute, so my stalls don't get cleaned as fast. Meanwhile, the boys are chucking manure and hay away into a nearby wheelbarrow.

I use the shovel as a crutch, observing the hard-working Winchesters. I lean against the stall wall, where a beautiful horse is sticking its head out. I smile and try and reach for its soft muzzle. All it does is blow its hot breath on my head.

"Hey, this is a group effort, Maxipad," Dean scolds me. "We can't be doing all the heavy lifting." He tosses a pile into the wheelbarrow.

"Sorry if I'm not built like a guy. You have to remember where I came from. I'm not strong."

"Don't worry, the minute we get back to the bunker, we'll fatten you up and help you grow some muscle. It's not fair that we have to clean up your mess that you're supposed to clean up."

"Oh, quit whining, you big baby," I retort. "I'll make you miss a spot."

Dean goes back into his assigned stall as Sam comes out to toss some shit and hay into the barrow. "Crap-she literally meant crap." He grunts and dumps another shovel-load.

"What else would she mean, Dean?"

He saunters over to the horse who I'm trying to befriend. "I hate you."

"Don't be so mean!" I threaten to jab him with my shovel. "It doesn't know any better!"

"Look at you, animal advocate."

"Do you guys ever shut up or at least try to get along?" Sam groans.

"I don't care," comes a higher, new, female voice. "Do I look like a hippie?"

All of our attention goes to Ellie arguing with a woman at the barn's entrance.

"Organic food is better for the cattle," Ellie argues.

"My land, my animals, my money, my way-end of story." The lady stalks off, leaving Ellie by herself. I can't understand how she deals with such a lady with an attitude problem.

"She's a real piece of work, huh?" Dean speaks up, loud enough for Ellie to hear.

"Alice Cassity's a piece of something, all right," Ellie says neutrally. "But what are we gonna do? She's the boss."

"Drink?"

I roll my eyes, and I see Ellie crack a smile before she leaves us be. I'm glad she doesn't stick around long enough to see my lack of work ethic. I blame it on my health, one-hundred percent. And what surprises me more is that Dean doesn't rat me out. He's too busy hitting on Ellie, that's why. He forgot about it. This isn't a get-lucky mission; it's a Hellhound mission.

"So, what are we thinking?" Sam asks.

"What, deal wise?"

"You guys have been thinking about it?" I ask. "I'm just trying to not pass out from the smell in here-or is that Dean?"

"You know what-"

"Guys. Grow up, will you?" Sam groans. "Focus."

Dean gives me the stink eye before focusing on his brother again. "Well, Ellie's the help, so that rules her out."

"And Carl doesn't really seem like the sell-your-soul type. So, Alice?"

"Ding-ding-ding."

"Should we talk to her?" I pipe up.

"Why? So she can lie to us and then call the cops? No. No, we're gonna have to go stalker on this one, Max."

"Creepy." I shudder. "But if it's the only way..."

"Come on, back to shoveling, farmhand."

I'm seriously tempted to knock Dean over the head with the smelly shovel, but I decide it's better to keep a job I don't want than to have myself arrested.

* * *

"God almighty," says the sheriff as he kneels by Carl Granville's sheet-covered body.

Like Dean had insisted, we creeped on Alice Cassity and waited. Unfortunately, we had been looking at the wrong target. Carl got the Hellhound, Alice hadn't. We'd all heard it, the howl. Alice had gone to investigate the barn to make sure the horses were okay. All it took was the open chance.

And that's when the sheriff got called in.

"I'm sorry, Ellie," I say sincerely. "Carl seemed like a nice guy."

"The best," Ellie tells me quietly.

"You say his head was practically ripped off?" Sam inquires.

"And you are?" the sheriff demands.

"Just curious."

"He's new. He works here," Ellie vouches.

"Carl died bad-let's leave it at that. They've been reintroducing wolves 'round these parts, but I never thought..."

"This wasn't a wolf," Ellie insists. "I got to make some phone calls. The whole family's flying in for this."

"All the Cassitys under one roof. Good luck."

Sam, Dean, and I pull away from the scene a little to talk in private.

"So, what do you think?" asks Sam.

"I think Carl signed the deal, and now he's dog food," says Dean. "Hellhound's gone, and we were too busy chasing a pile of Jack to stop it. Let's grab our stuff and get out of here."

"I'm gonna go find Alice."

While Sam goes to find Alice, I tag with Dean and head back for our room. I guess it's not a total loss of a job; we'd only had it for...what? Not very long. Not long enough, really. Dean's already packing his bag. I have nothing to pack, because I didn't think going into it I'd need anything.

"So...what? We go back on the road and find another terminal?" I ask Dean.

"That'll take too long. We'll be running around forever, and we want to get Hell closed up fast."

"You can't expect it to happen in an instant. Rome wasn't built in a day. And besides, aren't there other trials?"

"Exactly. We blow through this one and move onto the next."

I turn my head at Sam's footsteps. I acknowledge him with a nod.

"Hey, we, uh, we have any graveyard dirt?" Dean asks his brother.

"We should. Why?"

"Yarrow?"

"Yeah." But something in Sam's face tells me what Dean is planning isn't good. "No. Dean, no. We're not summoning a crossroads demon."

"Plan 'A' bombed, so welcome to Plan 'B'-we get some red-eyed bitch in a trap, then we hold a knife on her until she calls us in a pooch-special delivery."

"Yeah, except when Crowley finds out we're dialing up Hell, he won't send one Hellhound-he'll send a hundred. That's not a plan, Dean-that's suicide."

"Well, you got a better idea?"

"Any idea is better than yours right now," I snap, with arms crossed. Please, Sam, have a better idea.

"Yeah, we stay here," Sam proposes. He's got my attention. "I just talked to Alice in the barn. Carl didn't sell his soul for oil-he sold it for Alice."

"His wife?" I inquire.

"He loved her, she barely noticed him, so he made a deal. And now that time's up, it's like she barely even knew the guy."

"You think our demon signed up more than one schmuck while he was in town?" Dean asks.

"Wouldn't be the first time." A loud rumble of thunder roars overhead. Great. Storms. Fun. "Look, Dean, this family's rich because someone booked a one-way ticket downstairs. And as of tomorrow, they're all gonna be right here."

"And you want to scope 'em out?"

"I want to kill a Hellhound and not die. How 'bout you?"

"Two days-then we do it my way."

I'm glad Dean decides to accept Sam's idea, because I don't want to leave with storms overhead. I've been in one too many of them. This time, I'd like to have something over my head and not be exposed. So far I've been lucky to not be struck by lightning; I don't intend to get struck tonight.

It takes a while for us to decide on sleeping arrangements. Sam insists that I take a cot, as he doesn't want me sleeping on the floor. Dean is opposed to sharing a bed with his brother, because apparently the idea weirds him out. In the end, Sam keeps a cot to himself, and I'm forced to choose between which one I want.

Not much of a choice, really. I can either share a bed with a guy who's been nice to me since day one or I can sleep next to the guy who set ground rules in the bunker and keeps insulting me.

The only thing that keeps me awake is the storm rolling overhead. I put my hands over my ears as I sit on the edge of Sam's cot. He's turned over and is already out. I cringe as I see lightning peek through the other side of the door. I refrain from rocking back and forth. It'll pass. You're safe. Nobody's going to come in the middle of the night and kill you. I close my eyes and tremble as another crack of thunder sounds. Go away, go away, go away!

I yelp rather quietly as I feel calloused fingers wrap around my wrists. My eyes pop open, and I try my hardest to stop shaking as I take in Dean's appearance.

"Not one for storms, huh?" he whispers.

"Would you be if you've had to endure them outside?"

"Here." He pulls me off Sam's cot and helps me transition onto his. I look at him strangely with tired, blue eyes. "I probably won't be sleeping much. He needs his sleep anyway."

"All of us do," I protest through a yawn. I hiss as I see lightning from the corner of my eye. "Why are you doing this, Dean?"

"Just because I call you names doesn't mean I hate you, Max."

"You sure? Because from day one-"

"Things have changed since then."

"What's up with that, anyway?"

"With what?"

"Calling me Max instead of...you know what."

"Oh. It gets to be a mouthful sometimes."

"Son of a-" I don't get "bitch" out, as my heart is galloping in my chest. Another flash of lightning gets me scared. "I-I'm sorry. It's a stupid thing to be afraid of."

"Everyone's afraid of something."

"Even you and Sam?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Even us."

"You don't seem like the scaredy-cat type, either of you."

"You didn't either, at first glance," Dean reminds me quietly.

I cringe at more thunder. The rain hasn't fallen yet. For some reason, now of all times, a name comes to mind. "Who's Crowley?"

"Hm?"

"You mentioned that name earlier. I'm guessing he's a demon?"

"More like the King of Hell."

"Seriously?"

"Look at me and try to see if I'm lying," he taunts bitterly.

"No, no, I believe you." I don't know why the name is stuck in my brain now. It's definitely important to keep. But I have no idea what the guy looks like, so unless he introduces himself to me (which I really hope that doesn't happen), I'm in the dark about his appearance.

"Is this helping?"

I nod. "I couldn't do this on my own, I'd be crazy."

"Well, you are a little bit."

I look at him wryly. "Really, says the guy who hunts monsters for a living."

"You're running around with us."

I snort. I barely cringe when I hear the thunder again. Now the rain is falling; it's lightly pounding the roof over our heads. I shiver out of habit. I'm used to be soaked, not being sheltered from bad weather.

"I'll stay awake as long as you need me to," Dean blurts.

What's with this good guy act? The fatigue has got to be screwing with him. We don't talk anymore; we're laying in each other's company. Me, I'm wincing at every thunder and lightning attack. The rain is the only calming part about this storm, and I guess Dean is as well.

Somehow, my heart slows down back to normal. I find my eyelids too heavy to keep up, so I close them. I'm too tired to protest that Dean let go of my wrists-he's still holding onto them.

It's almost like he's afraid to let go or something. Like if he does, it'll be the end of me, or the end of him.

**[whispers] Dax. Any fanart is really, really encouraged. I'd love to see some!**