Chapter Text
Her beer was abandoned on the counter and her full attention was on the duo in front of her. Reb’s stool was swiveled in their direction and she stared at where her hand was resting on the counter. She could not believe her ears. These idiots couldn’t bother to keep track of the bastards they sent back to hell? Her eyes raised back up to meet Sam and Dean’s. “What the fuck were you two sons a’ bitches thinking when you were killin’ them.” She continues in a sarcastic tone, “‘Nah they won’t be pissed we sent ‘um down to hell.’ What the hell’d you think was gonna happen?”
Dean was the first to respond to the rant. And respond truly was a generous word. He tilted his head towards his brother before stage whispering, “I like her,” with a grin.
Sam smacked his arm; the knock it off was implied. “Actually, that's not quite how we ended up here.”
“Yeah, that's a whole different story. But, demons, demons we can talk about.”
“Don’t you mean dean-mons?” Sam grinned.
“Shut your trap!”
“No, hey,” Reb’s now playful glare turned to Dean before shifting to Sam, “I wanna hear this.” A Cheshire grin grew on her face.
“Man, you know that's creepy right?” Dean commented with a sour look on his face.
“Why else would I do it?” She beamed, though this time not one reminiscent of a drugged-up feline. Dean shook his head, this time with a slight smile. Reb’s mind was a steel trap though. His smart little ploy to distract her from her current hunt, their story, would not work on her. “Sam,” she ordered, “continue.”
Sam laughed a bit at his brother's failed attempt at a diversion before giving in to the demands of the small brunette before him. “So what demon story do you want first? What order? Easiest kill to Hardest? Chronological? Uh, weirdest?”
“You two exorcised enough of those bastards for the order to matter?”
“Hell yeah.” Dean cut in, “But we didn’t just exorcise ‘em, we ganked them too.”
“You can do that, is this one of those future things?”
Sam responded to her question, “No, it's more of an,” he squints, “us thing.” As if that makes it any more clear.
“Skippin’ past that bull-shit about killing demons and all that. How about chronological?”
“Works for me, sweetheart.” Rebecca raised an eyebrow and Dean gave an apologetic grin. Sam could only respond with a scoff. “We ganked our first demon when I was like twenty-six-ish. I spent like two decades preparing for that fight.”
“Dude, you can’t say you spent twenty years preparing for the fight. Most of those twenty years you were a kid.”
“What would you call dad’s way of parenting then? You used to be his strongest non-supporter.”
“I guess you’re right,” Sam grimaced.
“Yikes,” Reb whispered quietly while purposely staring at the mouth of her heaven beer. “Anyways,” she said dramatically, “demons.”