[h3] Dean Winchester [/h3]
Dean flinched once again, the second that Nat began to speak.  He hadn’t expected the venom that was leaving her lips, and yet, he also found it familiar and almost comforting.  If she was angry, she was at least…okay.  But when she mentioned Hell, he froze.  His entire body tensed, and the color left his face.  Some of the memories from his time in the pit flooded back, and he zoned out, until Nat suddenly raised her voice, kicking them out of the room.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she yelled again, and it almost felt as if Bobby himself was yelling at him.  She seemed ready to fight them all out onto the pavement if they didn’t leave, and reluctantly, he turned his eyes to Mika, and then Sam, giving an understanding nod.

“Just…don’t go anywhere.  We’ll um…we’ll talk about this when you’re sober.”, he muttered, her comments about Hell having him feeling a little less than polite toward his sister at that moment, but she was still his sister.

Sighing, he watched Anna quickly follow Sam outside, her face defeated, but also relieved that they could reconvene and figure out how to handle the situation.  Once she was out the door, she quickly placed a hand on Sam’s arm, and glanced back in at Dean and Mika.

Dean wrapped his hand around Mika’s upper arm, turning her toward the door and shoving them both through, without closing it.  After getting out of ear shot of the door, he turned to her, “What the hell are we supposed to do with her, now?  Now that the cats out of the bag, she could run off.  She could snap and go off on some sort of suicide mission or…she could sleep.  Do we trust her to?”

As he spoke, he quickly looked up at Sam, the corner of his eye waiting for Cason to leave the room.  When the door closed, and locked, he frowned, “And now he’s staying behind?!”

[h3] Cason [/h3]

Cason internally groaned as Nat admitted that she didn’t trust him.  Hopefully she was just lashing out, because of how the situation seemed to the others.  Hopefully, she trusted him enough to not shove him away, right as he had begun to make amends for the one thing in his long life he regretted…felt responsible for. He sighed and crossed his arms as she sparred with Dean, but raised his eyes back to scan her face, as she started to kick everyone out of the room.  He was tempted to just disappear and go find another bar to drown himself in.  The last thing he wanted was to give Dean any other reason to kill him, tonight.  But as he turned and prepared himself to disappear, he felt a hand on his arm, and he quickly looked down at Nat’s fingers.

Her voice hit a place in his chest that he didn’t even recognize.  It hurt, but in a way that almost felt human.  He couldn’t say ‘no’, not now.  Glancing toward the door, he took a long and deep breath, pulling his arm from her hand, letting her fingers trail down until he could catch them in his own hand.

“This is a bad idea…”, he muttered, releasing her hand and stepping over to the door.  As quietly as he could, he closed the door and turned the lock.  He then turned back around, walking over to the table as carefully and slowly as he could, “Do I even want to ask why you’re asking me to stay, after what happened?  I mean…I kinda started this whole mess, tonight.  And you look exhausted.”
He watched her face intently, his bright blue eyes trying to reach every feature, scanning for signs of her motives in every tear stained inch.  Then, those blue eyes settled on her eyes, “What do you need me to do?”

[h3]Duke[/h3]

Duke slept soundly for the most part, his travels and the nights events having his already tired muscles in full shut down mode.  In fact, he barely dreamed of anything, other than a few glimpses of rivers, or riding horses.  But suddenly, he felt a gasp from beside him, which he quickly realized wasn’t a part of his dream.

Somehow, he had managed to sleep through the majority of Esme’s dream, but now, he was covered in sweat from sleeping so closely to her.  As he came to his senses, he quickly threw the covers off, patting the bed beside him until he saw Esme scrambling toward the door, “What’s goin’ on?!”

He looked around the room, quickly pulling the covers completely off himself and standing from the bed.  He snatched his gun from the table nearby, shoving his hat to the side, before Sarah forced Esme to settle, and the presence of the Hellhound calmed his fears.  Relaxing his shoulders a bit, he placed the safety back and sat the gun aside, tightening the towel around his waist, “Shit…”

Sarah didn’t even growl, as Duke slowly stepped up to the chair and lowered himself into a squat in front of Esme, carefully placing a hand on her thigh, “Hey…hey tell me what’s goin on, sweetheart.  Look at me.  You know I ain’t never been scared of a nightmare, which I have to assume is what this is about.  Hey…I’m right here.  You’re safe.  Look at me…”

As he cooed to her, he carefully broke his eyes away from her face to look for any signs that she was bleeding, or had hurt herself.  Most of that exam would have to wait until she unwrapped herself and calmed down, but Duke was paranoid.  More than paranoid.

“You’re safe here…with me.”