❛ ━━━━━━･ ❪ ☆ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

"I SWEAR SAM uses fancier shampoo than I do," Eleanor murmurs to herself, stepping out of the shower. She dresses quickly, throwing on a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt that was probably Dean's.

She throws her hair up in a towel and walks into the motel room. Sam was poking Dean with his toiletry bag.

"Hey. Up and at 'em, kiddo."

Dean rubs his eyes. "You guys are up early. What are you doing?"

Eleanor shrugs. "Couldn't sleep," she says, walking over and taking a seat on the bed across from Dean's.

"Is that my sweatshirt?" Dean asks sleepily. Eleanor looks down at it and shrugs.

"Found us a job. Bedford, Iowa. Guy beat his wife's brains out with a meat tenderizer," Sam tells them.

Eleanor wrinkles her nose. "Gross. That's exactly what I wanted to hear first thing in the morning."

"And get this. Third local inside two months to gank his wife. No priors on any of 'em, all happily married."

Dean sits up and sighs. "Sounds like Ozzie and Harriet."

Sam smirks. "More like The Shining."

Dean stands and makes his way to the bathroom, grabbing his toiletry bag on the way. "All right, well I guess we'd better have a look."

･ ❪ ☆ ❫ ･

SAM AND DEAN were lawyers and Eleanor was the intern that was joining them on a case. Or at least, that's what they told Mr. Benson.

"Why does the PD keep sending you guys? I already said I don't want a lawyer, let alone three," Mr. Benson complains.

"They're lining up the firing squad," Eleanor says.

"I'm pleading guilty."

Dean leans forward in his seat. "All right, look, you don't want us to represent you, that's fine. In fact it's probably not a bad idea, between you and me. We just wanna understand what happened, that's all."

"Mr Benson," Sam starts sympathetically, "Please."

The man sighs. "What happened was, I killed my wife. You wanna know why? Because she made plans without asking me."

"Now when it happened, how did you feel? Disoriented, out of control?" Sam asks.

"Like something possessed you to do it?" Eleanor adds.

"I knew exactly what I was doing. I was crystal clear."

Dean frowns. "The why'd you do it?"

"I don't know. I loved her. We were happy."

Eleanor frowns, trying to look at it from every angle. She didn't understand how someone could murder someone they loved and then just confess. She places a few papers on the table and gently taps them. "Nine G's. That's a hefty bill."

"Where did you get that?" Mr. Benson asks, tone slightly accusing.

"It doesn't matter. We have it. See, certain charges, ones you don't want the missus to know...they show up under shady names like 'M & C Entertainment'."

"I don't know what you're talking about." The man was beginning to close off

"Like dropping plastic at a nudie bar for instance," Dean cuts in.

"We just wanna know the truth, Mr Benson," Sam says gently.

It took a few moments for the man to speak, as if he was fighting himself internally. "Her name was Jasmine."

"She was a stripper?"

Dean turns to his brother. "Dude, her name was Jasmine."

"I didn't mean for it to happen," Mr. Benson says quickly. "I don't like to go to strip bars. My buddy was having a bachelor party, and there she was. She came right up to me. And...I dunno, she was just...perfect. Everything that I wanted."

Eleanor scoffs. "Well you pay enough and anybody will be anything."

"It wasn't about the money. It wasn't even about the sex. It was...I dunno. I....I don't know what it was. It's hard to explain."

Eleanor didn't understand how people could just go to clubs and hook up with people. It came easy to Dean, and slightly less easy for Sam, though he still had an interest. She didn't see the appeal. She always assumed she'd feel the urge to hook up with a stranger when she got older, but now she was nineteen and that's what people her age did and she still didn't feel that way with anyone.

"And your wife found out?" Sam prompted, bringing Eleanor back to the present.

Mr. Benson shook his head. "No, she never had a clue."

"Then why'd you kill her?"

"For Jasmine. She said we would be together forever. If...if only Vicki was..."

"Muertos," Dean says under his breath. Eleanor raises an eyebrow at him.

"Afterwards, me and Jasmine were supposed to meet and she never showed. I don't know where she lives, I don't know her last name, I don't even know her real first name! I'm an idiot." He hits his hand against his head.

"And you didn't think to tell this to the cops?" Eleanor asks gently.

"What for? The stripper didn't do it, I did it. And I know what I deserve. The judge doesn't give me the death sentence, I'll just do it myself."

Eleanor frowns. She didn't know what to do. Sam and Dean stood from the table. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Benson."

･ ❪ ☆ ❫ ･

DR. CARA ROBERTS swallows two pills and rubs her temples.

"Rough night?" Sam asks as they walk into her office.

"Fun night. Rough morning," the doctor replied tiredly. Sam snickers. "Can I help you?"

"Ahhh...yes. Um, I'm Special Agent Stiles, FBI. This is my partner, Agent Harker," he introduces. Eleanor waves. "You Doctor Cara Roberts?"

She nods. "Far as I know."

"You do some work with the Sheriff's department?" Eleanor asks. She once again had her notebook in hand, pen tucked behind her ear.

She nods again. "Yeah, when I'm not slogging it through the ER. It's a small town. We multi-task."

"Well, we have some questions about a case. About several cases actually. Do you mind if we sit?"

Dr. Roberts gestures to the chairs in front of her desk.

Sam smiles at her. "Great. Adam Benson, Jim Wylie, and Steve Snyder."

Her eyebrows furrow as she tries to remember who they were. "Oh yeah, the men who killed their wives?"

"You handled their work-ups, right?" Eleanor asks.

"Autopsies for the wives and tox screens for the perps. Two-for-one special." Eleanor scribbles down what the doctor said.

"You find anything?"

She shook her head. "Not really. I mean, c.o.d. on the women was pretty clear. There was nothing unusual in their systems."

"What about the husbands?" Sam prompts.

"Can I....see your badge again?" Dr. Roberts asks, suddenly sounding apprehensive.

They hand her their badges and she studies them closely before speaking again. "There was one thing, um, an anomaly in the blood work. And I remember thinking how strange it was that it showed up in all three of the men."

"What was it?" Eleanor's pen hovered over the paper.

"Oxytocin. And their levels were crazy high."

"Ahh," Sam said like he understood. "Oxytocin?"

Recognition sparks on his sister's face. She remembered learning about it in one of her classes. "Isn't that the hormone that's produced during childbirth and sex?"

Cara nods, confused. "Um, yeah, it is."

Sam looks over at Eleanor, equally confused. She beams proudly.

"People call it the love hormone," the doctor explains. "Um, you know how it feels when you first fall in love. The whole weak in the knees, tattoo you on my chest thing? That's oxytocin."

Eleanor's eyebrows furrowed, trying to think of a time when she had felt like that. She'd never felt that with the few people she dated in high school. Maybe the relationships just weren't serious enough.

"Of course it eventually fades and then you're stuck with every relationship ever," Dr. Roberts continues. "That and the painful regime of tattoo removal."

Sam and Cara smile at each other. Eleanor looks between the two. They were clearly attracted to each other. She almost considered leaving.

"What'd I miss?" Dean asks, walking into the room.

Sam turns to his brother, almost annoyed. "Ahh, this is my other partner, Agent Murdoch."

Dean holds out a hand to her with a charming smile. "Please, 'Agent' sounds so formal. You can call me Dean."

She shakes his hand briskly. "I'm Doctor Roberts."

Dean taps Eleanor on the shoulder. "Get up."

"No, I was here first. You can stand."

"But I'm-" Dean starts.

"A professional," Eleanor says cutting him off, eyes darting over to the doctor. She knew he was going to say 'the oldest' and didn't feel like having their cover blown.

She seemed to not be paying attention to them, eyes on Sam. "So, um, can I help you with anything else?"

"Uhh, sure, just one more thing. This chemical, this..." he trails off, unable to think of the word.

"Oxytocin," she supplies.

"Oxytocin. What would cause those high levels that you found?"

Dr. Roberts shrugs. "Nothing that I've ever seen."

"Alright. That's it. Thanks Doc." He smiles at her and she returns it.

Eleanor and Sam stand and head to the door, Dean trailing behind them. Sam pauses before he leaves. "By the way...try a greasy breakfast. Best thing for a hangover."

The doctor grins. "Watch it buddy, I'm the only M.D. here," she teases.

"Dude, you totally C-blocked me," Dean complains as they walk away.

"I really don't think he did," Eleanor murmurs.

Sam ignored them. "So Whylie and Snyder totally fessed up, huh?"

"One emptied his IRA, the other, his kids' college fund, all on the same day," Dean tells them.

"For strippers?" Eleanor asks.

Dean nods. "A club called 'The Honey Wagon'."

"These guys have affairs too, with a stripper also known as Jasmine?"

He pauses before answering. "Yes and no. This is where it gets interesting. Each guy hooked up with a different chick."

Sam's eyebrows furrow. "So, what? These girls all connected somehow?"

"Well, they all described their stripper in the same way, the exact same way. Perfect, and everything that they wanted."

"Yeah, at least until dream Barbie convinced them to murder their wives," Eleanor scoffs.

"You know, it's almost like they were under some kinda love spell," Sam points out. "Which caused them to become totally psychotic."

Dean grins. "Absolutely."

Eleanor raises an eyebrow. "You seem pretty cheery for dealing with a monster causing people to murder their girlfriends."

"Strippers, Ellie. Strippers. We're on an actual case involving strippers. Finally," Dean says cheerfully.

She simply rolls her eyes at him. "Don't call me Ellie."

･ ❪ ☆ ❫ ･

WHITE ZOMBIE'S 'THUNDER Kiss '65' played as they walked into 'The Honey Wagon.' Eleanor and Dean go to talk to the manager while Sam goes to call Bobby.

"We're looking for three girls. Jasmine, Aurora and Ariel," Dean tells the balding manager.

"You seriously think those names mean anything to me?" His eyes land on Eleanor. "She old enough to be here?"

Eleanor flashes her FBI badge. "Yes, I am," she lies.

Dean changed the subject, trying to get them back on track. "One's a redhead about 5'9". The other one's Asian, about..."

The manager scoffs. "You have any idea how many girls I deal with? Fake names, fake hair, fake..."

"You gotta have some sort of paperwork," Eleanor says cutting him off.

"Like check stubs," Dean suggests. "Some way to keep track of the strippers."

"Please, exotic dancers. Independent contractors working for cash. I stay out of their hair, they stay out of what little I have left."

Eleanor's tone turns serious. She was getting annoyed with the lack of answers. "Three of your customers murdered their wives. You don't think that that's weird?"

"Yeah. I think that's super-friggin' weird. But you know what it ain't? My problem." With that he turns around and leaves.

"Well he was rude," Eleanor observes as they walk over to Sam.

"Any luck?" he asks once they're in earshot.

She shook her head. "Nope. You?"

"A little. I just talked to Bobby, we officially have a theory," Sam tells them. Eleanor gestures for him to continue. "Siren."

"Like Greek myth siren, the Odessy?" Dean asks. His siblings give him shocked looks. "Hey, I read!"

Sam nods. "Yeah, actually. But the siren's not actually a myth, it's more of a beautiful creature that preys on people, enticing them with their siren song."

"Let me guess, 'Welcome to the Jungle?' No, no. Warrant's 'Cherry Pie,'" Dean guesses.

"Oh how about McLean's 'American Pie?'" Eleanor suggests.

Sam rolls his eyes at them. "Their song is more of a metaphor, like...like their call, their allure, you know?"

"So they shake their ass and the guys zombie out?" Dean asks.

"Basically, yeah. Sirens lived on islands, sailors would chase 'em, completely ignoring the rocky shores...and dash themselves to pieces."

Eleanor seemed to catch on. "If you were a siren in '09 looking to ruin a bunch of morons, where would you set up shop?"

"A strip club...So whatever floats the guy's boat, that's what they look like?" Dean asks.

"Yeah," Sam confirms. "You see, sirens can read minds. They see what you want most and then they can kinda, like, cloak themselves. You know, like an illusion."

"So it could all be the same chick? Morphing into, uh, to different dream girls?"

"Yeah, actually. Probably. Sirens are usually pretty solitary."

Eleanor crosses her arms. "How do we kill it?"

"Bobby's working on it. Even if we figure that out..." Sam trails off.

"How the hell are we gonna find it? It could be anybody..."

･ ❪ ☆ ❫ ･

SAM WAS OUT checking up on a lead, leaving Eleanor and Dean alone in the motel room. He had accidentally left his phone. It rang and Dean reached over and picked it up.

After a few seconds he hangs up, looking upset.

"Did you just answer Sam's phone?"

"No," he says almost too quickly.

Eleanor was going to scold him but Sam walked into the room, so she let it drop. "Lenny Bristol was definitely another siren vic," he announces.

"You get in to see him?" Dean asks.

"Yep. He bought home a stripper named Belle. Couple of hours later he offed his mother. Belle, of course, went MIA."

Elle's eyebrows furrow. "Another Disney princess name?" They give her a funny look. "What? It's a pattern," she defends.

Dean goes to say something, then seems to think of something different. "Wait, he killed his mom?"

Sam nods. "The woman he was closest too."

Sam's phone rings. "Yeah, you, uh, forgot your cell phone," Dean tells him, looking slightly guilty. He tosses the phone to his brother.

A worried look crosses over Sam's face. "Hey Bobby...Ahhh, no. And, uh, it doesn't seem like she's slowing down any. You got anything?"

Eleanor tilts her head, trying to follow the conversation through Sam's side. He seemed to notice. "Hold on a sec, I'll put you on speaker."

"It says you need 'a bronze dagger, covered in the blood of a sailor, under the spell of the song'," Bobby's voice says from the phone.

Dean frowns. "What the hell does that mean?"

"You got me. We're dealing with 3000 years of the telephone game here."

"Best guess?" Eleanor asks.

"Well, the siren's spell ain't got nothing to do with any song. It's most likely some kind of toxin or venom. Something she gets in the vic's blood."

"That makes the high levels of oxytocin make sense."

"So it makes them go all Manchurian Candidate. Uh, what do you think, she infects the men during sex?" Sam voices.

Eleanor snickers. "Like a supernatural STD."

"Well, however it happens, once it's done the siren's gotta watch her back. She gets a dose of her own medicine..."

"It kills her?"

"Like a snake getting iced by its own venom."

Dean nods to himself. "So we just gotta find a way to juice one of the OJs in jail?"

"Not that easy. None of those guys are under the spell anymore. Haven't got a clue where you're going to get the blood you need."

Sam grins. "I think I might have an idea."

"Be careful. These things are tricky bitches. Wrap you up in knots before you know what hit ya," Bobby warns.

･ ❪ ☆ ❫ ･

THEY RETURNED TO the hospital to see about getting blood from the victims.

"Dr. Roberts," Sam greets with a smile.

"Agent Stiles. Can't stay away, huh?" she teases.

"Actually, uh, we're here on business. About the blood samples. The ones with the high...you know...oxytocin?"

"You still have them?" Dean cuts in. The doctor nods. "Good, we need them."

Her eyebrows furrow. "What for?"

Before they can answer, a man approaches her. "Excuse me, Dr. Roberts?"

"Yeah?"

Dean pulls out his FBI badge. "Excuse me, uh, we're a little busy here, buddy." His tone dripped in annoyance.

The man gets out his own badge. "Yeah, so am I, pal."

Sam turns to Dr. Roberts. "Doc, can you give us a sec, please?" She nods and backs away.

"What's your name?" Dean asks. Out of the corner of her eye, Eleanor saw Dean looking him up and down appreciatively, though still annoyed.

"Nick Munroe. What's yours?"

"I'm Special Agent Sam Stiles, these are my partners Dean Murdoch and Eleanor Harker. What office are you from?"

"Omaha, Violent Crimes Unit. My SAC sent me down here to see about the murders," Nick tells them. "You?"

"D.C. Our Assistant Director assigned us," Dean tells him.

"Oh, which AD?" he asks, almost suspiciously.

"Mike Kaiser."

The agent raises an eyebrow. "What are your badge numbers?"

Dean scoffs. "You're kidding, right?"

"I'm just following protocol."

Eleanor hands him a card from her jacket pocket. "Look just call our AD, he'll sort things out," she says, much calmer than her brothers.

Munroe walks away, dialing the number. A few minutes later, he returns. "I'm sorry, guys."

Dean seemed to relax, just slightly. "Just don't let it happen again."

"Where are you at with this?" he asks.

"Where are you at with this?" Dean repeats.

Eleanor watches the conversation with growing interest.

"Well, I was just about to run the, uh, perps' bloodwork."

"I already checked, dead end," Sam lies.

"Oh yeah?" he asks. Sam nods. "But get this. I feel like I found something that, uh, connects all the murderers."

"Really?" Eleanor asks, gesturing for him to go on.

"They were all banging strippers....from the same club."

"You don't say!" Dean says sarcastically.

"What do you say we, uh, go down there and check it out?" He was looking directly at Dean as he asks this.

"Well, here's the thing, Nick. See, we're kinda lone wolves..."

"You know what, that sounds like an excellent idea. Just... just give me a second with my partners and we'll, uh...one sec," Sam tells him. He begins to walk away and gestures for them to follow. "Dude, you gotta stay with him," he says, turning to Dean once they were out of earshot.

"What? Why?" he complains.

"Keep him outta the way."

"Why me? Why can't you do it? Or Elle?"

"'Cause I gotta get the blood samples, and Elle is going to go with you," Sam says firmly.

"I am?"

"You are."

"What the hell are we supposed to do with him?" Dean asks, annoyed.

"Just take him to the strip club, keep an eye out for the siren. Come on, Dean, just focus on the naked girls. You'll forget he's even there!"

"I'm not doing this for you, I'm doing it for the girls," he huffs.

"Thank you." Sam pushes Dean towards Nick but holds Eleanor back. "Go with them, see if I can actually scout out our siren. I have a feeling they might get distracted."

She nodded and followed Dean and Nick out of the hospital.

"All right, we're taking my ride, no complaining about the tunes," Dean says firmly.

"No way. You drive an Impala?" Munroe asks, eyes widening as he spots the car.

"Yeah."

Eleanor walks to her usual spot in the back seat.

"Elle, where are you going? Sam's not here, you can have shotgun."

Eleanor smiles, almost mischievously. "I'm good."

"It's a '67, right?" Nick continues, "It's a 327 four barrel."

Dean smiles in surprise. "Yeah, actually."

"It's a thing of beauty."

"Awe, Dean, someone who appreciates Baby as much as you do. I think you've found your soulmate," his sister teases.

"Shut up," Dean says. At the same time, Nick asks, "Baby?"

"Dean is the kind of person to name a car."

Dean glares at her through the rear view mirror but the agent smiles. "Well I, for one, this it's perfect."

･ ❪ ☆ ❫ ･

THE STRIP CLUB was loud and crowded. Eleanor was growing increasingly uncomfortable with the amount of people in the tight space, half of them not fully dressed. There were too many people packed together, it was making her skin crawl.

"Not your scene?" a girl asks, walking up to Eleanor.

She gave her an awkward smile. "What gave it away?"

"I'm good at reading people. Your eyes keep darting towards the door, then the clock and you look very tense."

Eleanor leans against the bar. "You got me. I'm here for work."

"You're at a strip club...for work?" the girl asks.

She pulls out the fake FBI badge and places it on the counter with a shrug. "We're working a case involving strippers."

The girl taps the badge with a grin. "Is that supposed to make you less interesting?" she teases.

"Depends who you ask."

"I'm Ella, by the way." The girl holds out a hand.

Despite her hatred of shaking hands, something compelled her to place her hand in the other girl's. "Eleanor."

"Lovely to meet you, Eleanor." Someone waves her over. Ella turns and nods, holding up a finger. "That's my cue. I'll see you around." She winks at Eleanor and makes her way to one of the stages.

Eleanor watches her go before turning back to her soda. She blinks, as if to clear her thoughts, then shakes her head.

The scent of Ella's perfume lingered in the air, floral and light. It reminded Eleanor of hyacinths.

About ten minutes later, Ella reappeared. She was flush and was carrying about $200 in one dollar bills. "Hey, I don't usually do this, but would you want to grab a drink?"

Eleanor didn't mention she was too young to drink. "Yeah, I don't see why not."

Ella smiles widely. "Awesome, I'll meet you out front!"

Eleanor looked around to find Dean, squinting to see. She spotted him at one of the tables and made her way over. "I'm going to go grab a drink with this girl I met."

Dean looked like he was about to say something but she stopped him. "I won't drink alcohol and I'll meet you at the motel." She walked off before he could get another word in.

･ ❪ ☆ ❫ ･

ELEANOR RETURNED TO the motel room after unsuccessfully finding a potential siren. Sam was still gone, but she was shocked to find Agent Munroe sitting on Dean's bed. "Nick, what are you doing here? Are you and Dean...should I...?" she gestures vaguely to the door.

Dean attacks Eleanor from behind and holds a knife to her throat.

"Dean? Jesus Christ! What are you doing?" Dean doesn't answer. She turns to Munroe, the pieces falling into place. "I gotta tell ya, you're one ugly stripper."

He shrugs with a small smirk. "Well, maybe. But I got exactly what I wanted. I got Dean."

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

Munroe turns to her brother. "Why don't you cut her? Just a little, on her neck right there." He gestures on his own neck. Entranced by the siren, Dean does as he's told and cuts Eleanor's neck.

She lets out a small sob. "Dean, please."

Munroe smiles menacingly. "Dean's all mine."

"You poisoned him."

"No. I gave him what he needed, what he wanted. Someone to help him let go of his past, of every bad thing that's happened to him. Someone to make him happy. And now he loves me. He'd do anything for me. And I gotta tell you, Elle," she glares at the use of her nickname, "that kind of devotion? I mean, watching someone kill for you? It's the best feeling in the world."

"Is that why you've been sleeping with all those people?"

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

Eleanor struggles against Dean's grip. "You're one of the most pathetic monsters I've ever fought."

"You won't feel that way in a minute." He grabs her and spits toxin onto her lips and chin. "So I know you two have a lot you wanna get off your chests. So why don't you discuss it? And whoever survives can be with me forever."

Dean lets Eleanor go and faces her. "What were you doing with Pamela for three weeks?"

"Dean come on, are we seriously going this? He's clearly brainwashing you!"

The siren glares at her, enraged. "Why isn't my poison working on you? What's wrong with you?"

Eleanor goes to punch him. "Give it up, asshole."

Dean stops her punch, grabbing her by the arm and pushing her into the wall.

"I'm not going to fight you, Dean." He punches her, causing her head to hit the wall. "Alright, I guess I'm going to fight you." She ducks from his grasp and kicks him.

They begin to fight, exchanging punches and blows. Eleanor wipes blood from her nose. "Are you done yet?"

He runs at her and they go crashing through the door and onto the floor of the hallway. He stands quickly and breaks the emergency glass on a fire axe and grabs it. He stands over her, axe in hand.

Munroe walks up behind him. "Do it. Do it for me, Dean."

"I never should have let you live in the first place." He raises the axe over his head. Eleanor covers her face with her arms, tears in her eyes.

She accepted it, death at the hands of her brother. She might as well, he clearly wanted to kill her all along. She knew now she was a monster, as much as she tried to pretend she wasn't. Maybe she deserved it. After all, he was a hunter, and hunters killed monsters.

Dean goes to bring the axe down but it was grabbed by Sam. He throws the axe to the side and stabs Dean in the shoulder with a bronze knife. Dean cries out as Sam throws the knife to Bobby, who catches it easily.

The siren begins to run down the hallway but Bobby throws the knife. It hits him in the back and he falls to the floor, dead.

Dean blinks, as if he just woke up. His gaze lands on Eleanor, lying on the ground, bleeding and teary eyed. He holds out a hand to help her up. "Ellie? Are you okay?"

She sniffs and nods, forcing a smile and taking his hand to pull herself up. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm totally fine."

･ ❪ ☆ ❫ ･

THE HUNTERS LEANED against their cars outside of the motel. Bobby went to his trunk and started handing out drinks.

"Soda?" Dean asks, opening the bottle.

"You kids are driving, aren't ya? And Elle can't drink."

Eleanor smiles at him. "Thanks, Bobby. You know, if you two hadn't shown up when you did..." she trails off.

"Done the same for me, more than once. Course, you coulda picked up the phone. Only took one call to figure out that Agent Nick Munroe wasn't real."

An awkward silence fell over them. "You kids gonna be okay?" Bobby asks, breaking it.

Eleanor nods. "Yeah, fine."

"All good," Dean agrees.

Bobby tips his hat to them and walks back over to his car. "See ya." He places his hand on the door handle but hesitates and turns back to Dean. "You know, those sirens are nasty things. That it got to you, that's no reason to feel bad."

Dean nods, though he still looked guilty. Bobby gets in his car and drives off.

"You gonna say goodbye to Cara?" Dean asks, sipping his drink and turning to Sam.

"Nah, not interested."

Eleanor raises an eyebrow. "Really? Why not?"

He shrugs. "What's the point?"

Dean looked beyond proud. "Well, look at you. Love 'em and leave 'em."

They sit in silence for a few moments, sipping their drinks.

Dean turns to his sister. "Ellie, you know I didn't mean the things I said back there, right? That it was just the siren's spell talking?"

"Yeah, I know." She kept the pain out of her voice. If he caught on, he would ask questions. If he asked questions, he'd find out he really should have killed her. She wasn't ready for that.

"Hey Elle, why didn't the siren stuff work on you?" Sam asks.

She shrugs. "I don't know. Must be strong or something."

"Are you saying I'm not?" Dean teases.

"I never said that."

She didn't know why the siren's spell hadn't worked on her. She knew it had nothing to do with how strong she was. Dean was the strongest person she knew and even he wasn't immune to it.

Maybe it's because you're a monster too. The negative thoughts in her head whispers. Maybe monsters can't infect other monsters. She ignores them. Or maybe you're just broken. Think about it.

And she did. She spent the ride back trying to figure out why the siren's spell hadn't worked on her. By the time they pulled up to the motel they would be calling home for the night, she still didn't have an answer.

❛ ━━━━━━･ ❪ ☆ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

AUTHOR'S NOTE: lowkey wrote like 1/4 of this the night before my ap exam instead of studying oops
anyway hope y'all enjoy, sorry it took so long to post. life has been busy and that exam really made me lose my motivation and gave me major writers block. thank you for being patient with me. updates will be consistent from now on ( though this may or may not be wednesday's chapter )
also a little self promo but check out nightmoveswp and my collab fic, night moves !! + follow my tiktok, clairenovak.wp for edits and the occasional update
vote and comment if you liked it, it honestly makes me so happy and encourages me to write. don't be silent readers, i'd love to hear your thoughts <3