Dean carefully held Christie in his arms as Bobby rushed to finish the mixture of different odds and ends. She was limp, unmoving and silent, the only sound coming from her was a soft breath.
“Come on, Bobby,” Dean muttered getting impatient, not noticing Christie starting to slightly twitch, or the pale green scales that had formed on her arm.
Dean looked down at a calm, sleeping Christie. He slowly reached up to push her hair from her face and, in a swift motion, Christie grabbed his arm. Her eyelids opened, uncovering bright, pale blue eyes.
“Chris?” Dean whispered softly.
Christie looked up at Dean and growled softly, opening her mouth slightly to reveal her row of, pale yellow, pointed teeth. Dean’s eyes widened. Christie snarled and lunged up at Dean. He fell back to the ground and struggled to get Christie off of him. Bobby rushed to finish the cure to turn Christie back to normal.
“Dean!” Sam shouted running up to Christie and Dean battling each other. With the help of Derek, Sam managed to get Christie off of Dean but not before she slashed her claws across Dean’s neck.
“Let me go!” Christie hissed, fighting Sam and Derek’s grip.
“Not until you’re sane again,” Derek muttered trying to keep his grip on Christie.
“You done with that cure yet, Bobby?” Dean groaned standing up, wiping the sweat from his forehead.
“Yeah,” Bobby muttered finishing up mixing everything together, “Open her mouth, just don’t let her take a bite out of you,”
Dean carefully walked up to Christie and looked down at her, “Work with us Chris, you said it yourself, you don’t want to be Hannibal Lecter,” he paused for a moment and sighed, “Just take this crap so we don’t have to do anything to you, please,”
Christie growled at Dean for a few moments, but soon, willingly, opened her mouth. Bobby quickly poured the concoction down Christies throat and she dropped to the floor. She started to softly trash and Dean quickly knelt beside her.
“Christie?” He whispered.
“What the hell, Bobby?” Sam shouted, kneeling on the other side of Christie.
Christies trashing quickly became more intense and Dean grabbed her hand and held it in his. With a deep sigh, Christie went limp.
“Is she alive?” Derek quickly asked.
Dean puts is ear just above Christies face and sighed, “She’s breathing,”
Dean scooped up Christie’s unmoving body in his arms and laid her softly on the cot beneath the window. He sighed softly as he pushed her hair out of her face with his hand and Christie moved her head slightly.
Christie’s eyes opened slowly open and she tried to turn her head. Bad idea for her. Her head pounded and he vision blurred. With aching muscles, she raised her hand to her head and groaned softly.
“Christie?” A voice said loudly.
She groaned again and put her hands over her ears. “Stop yelling,” she managed to croak out. She turned her head in the direction of the voice and seems Dean sitting just next to her. She realized now she was laying on the cot in Bobby’s living room.
“Ugh,” Christie grumbled rubbing her eyes, “What happened?”
“You’ve been out for three days,” Dean yelled, it came to Christie’s mind that it was her head making everything louder.
“Shit,” Christie mumbled closing her eyes. “Do you remember anything?” Dean asked.
“Um, not much. I remember...,” Christie paused, “I remember you telling me to let Bobby pour that crap down my throat and Sam, and Derek were holding me down,” she sighed.
Christie looked over Dean and vaguely saw the dark circles under his eyes, and the bandage on the side of his neck, “Did I do that?” Christie asked pointing to his neck.
“Yeah,” Dean sighed, “But luckily its just a scratch. I’m fine,”
“Are you sure?” Christie questions.
“Trust me kid, this is nothing,”
Christie coughed a few times and tried to clear her throat. “Can I have something to drink?” she croaked.
Dean stood up and walked into the kitchen. He opened the fridge and pulled something out, then turned around and walked back into the living room.
“This is all we got,” Dean said handing a dark brown bottle to Christie.
“Beer? Really?” Christie lightly chuckled, “Could you help me up?”
With Dean’s help, Christie slowly sits up and sits on the edge of the cot. She takes the bottle from Dean and puts the cold glass to her lips. “Slow down, kid!” Dean laughed and Christie quickly downs beverage. “You drink like a hunter,” he laughed taking the now empty bottle from Christie’s cold hands.
“Where is everyone?” Christie asked as Dean stood to throw away the beer bottle.
“Bobby and Derek went out into town so get some food incase you woke up, and Sammy’s asleep, needs those four hours,” Dean said with a smile, “You need a shower, kid. You’ve been in those clothes for almost a week,”
“If I can make it there,” Christie chuckled attempting to stand.
“Just don’t sprout a tail and you’ll be fine,” Dean smiled, helping Christie up.