Dean shook his head as Mika commanded him to lie down. He waved his hands around in front of him a bit, “No. Nah…you need to rest and take care of y-yourself.”

He realized then that he felt a little tired. He shook his head a bit quicker, opening his eyes and slapping his cheeks. He was determined not to give in to what was probably a bit of head trauma. He paused and then sighed.

“Fine. But I’m fine. I didn’t even hit my head that hard…I don’t think.”, he muttered, sliding himself backward on the bed and carefully lying down on his side, with his back facing her. He couldn’t even really feel the pain in his back, at that point, and only felt the need to sleep, “It’s just a bump, Mika…really. You need to worry about yourself. You need to eat and…and sleep. And I need to call Bobby, and…”

He finished the sentence with a bit of a jerk and a noise, waking himself up from almost falling asleep, “And if I lay here long, I’m gonna fall asleep, not gonna lie. Maybe I had too much Vodka."

Dean's refusal to just stop for five minutes and let her check his head was getting frustrating to Mika. She was too tired herself and in pain for this crap from him, but she wasn't expecting much else from him if she was honest with herself. "and I can't do that unless I know you're okay and not gonna die in your sleep on me" she scolded him.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she sighed as she attempted to not lose her patience complete with him. Seeing him slide down on the bed made her inwardly sigh with relief. She took a closer look at his head injury and refrained from gasping. "it's small but it's bad Dean. You need a couple of stitches that's for sure. So until I've done that I am not letting you call Bobby, so please just let me finish sorting you out. Its not the vodka making you sleepy, its this bloody injury" she explained, unable to now keep the worry out of her voice for him.

She grabbed what she needed and gently placed the nearest cloth she could find that was clean and cleaned round the wound as much as she could, as well as trying to get the blood out of his hair. When she was done with that she threw the cloth out of the way onto the floor, rethrreaded the needle and sighed. "give me the vodka back so I can sanitise the needle and your wound" she told him, using the tone that said 'I'm not taking anymore of your bullshit so just let me do my thing'.

"ready? On the count of three..."she gave him a warning but had no plans on going at three, instead doing the first stitch on two.

Dean scoffed at how dramatic he felt like Mika was acting, but he started to get a small pang of fear creeping up in his stomach at her tone. Obviously something was wrong, other than a small scrape to the head, if she was being so harsh with him. He held out the vodka bottle with a heavily shaky hand, and took a deep breath.

“Okay. Okay! I’ll be good.”, he muttered, the fear not leaving his stomach as she told him to start counting. He counted in his head to one, before she started the stitches. He gasped, his body tensing. He almost flinched his head away from her, but thought it a bad idea. So, he simply stayed where he was and gripped the duvet tightly.

“That hurts, you know…”, he muttered through gritted teeth, “I don’t like you to see me like this. I’m not helpless. I don’t need a babysitter. If your leg wasn’t screwed, I’m sure you would just run away…”

In his delirium, he spoke the quiet part out loud to her, and cringed as he did so. He bit his lip, trying to stop the verbal diarrhea from slipping from his mouth. He had already said enough.

“I didn’t mean…”

She took the vodka bottle from his shaky hand, seeing how much the fear was bottling up in him and she truly felt sorry for him. It had been so long since she had seen this kind of fear in his eyes and she wished she could take it away. She slowly, trying to be as careful as possible poured the vodka on his head, cleaning his head before she made a start on the first stitch, seeing him flinch, she paused what she was doing before continuing on when he stopped.

"I know it hurts, I'm sorry but there's not much I can do about the pain" she told him, knowing it could t be much of a reassurance. "good news is it only needs two stitches and one is pretty much done already" she told him as she pulled the needle through the other side and tied it off, snipping it. She then began on the second stitch as he spoke out loud his worry about her doing a runner if she had a working leg.

"Dean I know well enough you don't need babysitting. I'm not here trying to be a carer for you, I'm just trying to help and keep you out of hospital. Also, if you think this would make me run away then you got another coming. I may have been the type to run away before but I'm not now. I'm not her anymore. We're equals Dean. You and me stick together through thick and thin."she reassured him, tying off the second and last stitch, putting the equipment away.

When the stitches were done, she covered them to keep them clean then tapped his shoulder to let him know she was done. "nothing is going to make me run away again Dean" she repeated. "I love you, don't ever forget that" she said to him, before finally doing as he wanted out of her and grabbing her food. "I think we both need rest for now and maybe give Bobby the verbal lecture in the morning when you're not so delirious?" she suggested.

Dean hissed at the feeling of the needle piercing the back of his head for the second stitch, glad that it was the last one. If not for the impact, the skin trauma hadn’t been so bad. He had definitely had worse, as far as stitch count to the head. He listened to her respond to his inappropriate bringing up of her former life, and was a bit relieved that she didn’t seem angry, only concerned.

“I know you’re not that person, anymore. I just don’t like for you to see me all beaten down. Hell, I don’t even like Sammy seeing me like this. It makes me feel weak.”, he muttered sleepily.

As she placed the bandage against the back of his head, and tapped him on the shoulder, he sighed in relief, slowly turning over toward her as she grabbed her food. He was indeed happy to see her willing to eat, considering how messed up the night had been.

“I um…I love…”, he whispered, “You too…”

He could barely get the words out, between the delirium and his aversion to saying the three words together. So, he did the best he could. Rolling his eyes at the idea of calling Bobby at all, he half agreed with her that Bobby would be easier to force into an apology, and possibly a bribe if he was in his right mind.

“You’re right. What should we do while we rest, hmm? I need to stay awake for a couple of hours. Sam says it’s in case I have a seizure or something.”, he muttered, his stomach hurting at saying his brother’s name again. In this emotionally heightened state, he missed him more than ever.

"Trust me, I can totally understand that better than anyone could possibly understand. It's why I kept who I was from you for so long remember, I didn't want you looking at me differently or babying me if you saw me the way I was all those years ago" she told him. In instances such a this they were so alike it was almost emotionally painful to admit such a thing in her mind, but it was a fact they couldn't ignore, Bobby was sure quick to always remind her of it, so she may as well just accept it.

She grabbed the plastic fork that came with her salad after she added the dressing from within the lid that doubled as the dressing tub, shook it all together and then began to eat. For once she would have been happy with the greasiest food possible as a treat, but she knew she had to eat well if she was to recvoer properly and not feel guilty about eating like shit afterwards.

At his admittance of loving her back, she smiled softly at him knowing that any real chatter was going to be a bit difficult for him at the moment due to the delirium he was suffering. She was also openly glad that he agreed to not call Bobby yet and wait until he was a lot more coherent with the world and not when he felt like he was about to pass out. She scooched into his side a bit more but stayed sitting up a bit so she could eat without giving herself heartburn or risk choking on her food but half rested her head on his shoulder.

"I guess see what's on tv or just keep talking about anything and everything" she suggested as she didn't want him feeling he had to focus on too much that would make his head worse but she also knew Sam was right in that Dean needed to stay awake for a while just to make sure he was passed the worst of the head trauma and wasn't going to go into a fit or something similar. "Let's face it neither of us are capable of much else right now" she smirked, hoping that ending her suggestion on a quick witted quip it would help lighten the mood.

Dean smiled warmly at how similar they really were in their obsession with keeping their pain from others. It was something he would probably never get over, as John hand planted it firmly in his mind that he had to be tough for Sam. He had to bottle it all up, and pretend to be fine, as long as it meant that he was ready to fight and that Sam was safe.

He leaned his head a bit to the side onto the side of hers, reaching his arm with some effort behind him to the other end table. He grabbed the tv remote, and pointed it at the mounted tv on the wall separating the bathroom from the main room. It had felt like forever since he had just watched tv, but there wasn’t much else he could do, feeling drunk, high, and exhausted all at the same time.

“You’re right about that. It might be hard to explain if I had to have someone carry me out of here, because you’re running on half a set of legs…”, he joked back with her, placing his left hand on her stomach as he flipped through channels, “You know…I have been thinking about letting Dad take things on his own, for a while. I know he would be super pissed about it, but I like this. Head trauma and all…I like actually being able to exist without being fed bullshit about how much I complain.”

He spoke the words as he landed on ‘Dr. Sexy M.D.’. He then laughed and pointed at the tv, “I love this show…It’s been forever since I’ve actually seen it.”

Even though he was struggling to keep his eyes open, his demeanor was begging for her to talk to him, just to distract him from how badly he just wanted to go to sleep.

Feeling him rest his head on hers slightly made Mika smile as it felt like such a normal thing to do with someone. It actually felt like when they were kids and he would sit up in her bed with her late at night after he crept inside by climbing up and in through her window, just to avoid her parents. LIke him, she was feeling the effects of the vodka that she had previously been swigging back whilst he was patching her leg up before he took it from her. Yet she also was feeling the beginning effects of tiredness hit her, but not to the point that she could fall asleep.

At his admittance that she was right about them not being able to do much else in this moment, she smirked and sniggered at the comment about her only having one good leg. Her smile didn't leave her face when he placed his hand on her stomach as he reached over and grabbed the remote to the tv where he proceeded to find something they could watch that wouldn't send either of them to sleep at the same time.

She listened to him say about his thoughts on possibly leaving his dad to go on on his own for a while which surprised her a little, as she partly was always expecting him to go back to his dad at some point and she would back to being the secret partner/girlfriend/whatever they were. "I like having you around as well Dean, and I think that if that's truly what you want, then you should do what you think is right for you, but I don't want you being your dad's punchbag either." she replied to him, before they got distracted by the fact the awful show Dean liked came on the tv.

"Oh my god, you still like this!? Remember when we last saw this on tv and you told me you wanted cowboy boots because of him?" she laughed, seeing that he was desperate just for any old crap to be spoken about so he wouldn't fall asleep, and that was one thing she most certainly could do for him easily enough. "And I told you hell no" she chuckled more as she ate her food some more.

Dean laughed gently, trying not to shake her too much while she was eating. He remembered vividly his need for cowboy boots. Hell, he still wanted cowboy boots, even if they were uncomfortable to run in.

“I swear, I’m going to work a case one day that requires cowboy boots for the undercover stuff. I need them…”, he quipped, pointing his finger to make a point, “And I think I would look sexy, like Dr. Sexy…I can’t believe you don’t agree.”

He laughed again, his eyebrows raising as one of the nurses came up and kissed Dr. Sexy. As he pushed her away, she seemed offended and began sobbing, “That poor woman. Can you imagine being turned down by a man like that? Devastating…”

After a few minutes, he smiled at a random thought, again, “So, do you remember that time, at your house, when I got stuck on a ladder outside your window? We didn’t want to put the ladder right under the window, in case I needed to hide, and my legs weren’t long enough…”

He laughed a bit harder at the memory, “I was so stubborn to make it work that I almost broke my damn neck, but ended up having to climb down after your parents went to bed. I don’t know if you remember, but it was like…three-ish hours. I was so sore…”

She listened to him declare that he still was adamant that one day he would have cowboy boots for an undercover case and he would be clearly very proud to wear them. She chuckled as he still said how he couldn't believe she wouldn't agree about him looking sexy in such boots. She kept chuckling at his words as he continued on speaking, pointing out the scene going on on the show, "you have an unhealthy obsession with that character Dean. Just saying" she smirked back at him, finishing up her small salad and putting the stuff on the side table.

After putting the empty pot down, she got herself as comfortable as she could again into him, placing her hand ontop of his that was on her stomach. When he started chuckling again at a memory of them as kids and at her old family house, she glanced up at him and tried to remember that one particular night he was before it clicked and a broad smile came onto her lips and chuckling ensued.

"oh my god yeah, that was hysterical but I remember being so scared for you but more scared that my dad would find you just dangling there" she laughed at the memory but suddenly saying the words 'my dad' brought back so many complex emotions. It was no secret to anyone that she was closer to her mother, and it was her mother that embraced her closeness to Dean right from the get go, but her dad was complicated. He didn't trust Dean but that was down to his biases with the Winchester family in general because as far as he was concerned, if they knew Bobby Singer then they were just as bad.

"what about the night you had to hide under my bed on that school night? Mom came in and saw your sneaker hanging out from the end of the bed and wished you goodnight as well and secret was safe with her? I thought we were utterly done for that night. But the bunch of Polaroids we took was fun" she reminisced, reminding herself that her childhood before growing up without her folks wasn't all that bad. There were good times as well.

Dean continued laughing at her aversion to cowboy boots, and what he remembered to be a good memory, even if at the time it was one of the scariest moments of his life, aside from hunting. He shuffled his body a bit to slip his arm up under her neck, and hold her close to him against his chest, his fingers tracing the side of her arm as they laughed.

When she brought up the night he was called out for being under her bed, he laughed again, his smile bright, “Oh yeah. I thought she was going to pull me out from under the bed and throw me out the window. When she just told me goodnight, I almost came out of there and gave her a hug, but I figured that was pushing it. So, the only thing I could say was ‘yes ma’am’.”

He laughed, remembering that it was the last time he had really treated anyone but Bobby with that much respect. It was a high point for him. At the mention of the Polaroids, he raised the hand that was on her arm, and pointed at nothing in particular, “I still have one of those in my bag, actually. It’s stuffed inside of my journal as a bookmark. You were smiling. I like to stick it in the part of my book when I’m sleeping sometimes…”

He pulled her hand up onto his chest, and held onto it, bringing it gently up to his mouth to give her fingers a small kiss.

“Good times. We should do fun stuff like that more often, now that we have to hide a bit less…”, he muttered with a chuckle.

As Dean pulled her into him closer and traced his figners up and down her arm, she smiled contently knowing that right now, in the way she was she felt she was home. She felt safe in his grip, even with them both being injured the way they were. She laughed as he remembered about that particular night, nodding as she too thought her mother was going to kick him out, but it seemed her mother surprised them both. It was at the time, the most awkward and embarrassing moment but also so hysterical.

She too remembered how much respect he gave her mother and she was convinced that that was the vital moment that won her mother over with him. Ever since that encounter she seemed to remember him getting on with her really well. "Pretty sure that was one of the final moments she decided to root for us so much and was so willing to be on our side when dad wasn't" she commented. She hadn't spoken about her parents in so long and in some ways it was heartbreaking to use past tense when talking about them, but in others it was almost therapeutic to be able to talk about them again. She had bottled up every memory so deep she was convinced she was going to grow up forgetting them for a long while.

When he said he still had the one polaroid photos he took of her from that night in his journal, she felt surprised but glad that he didn't try and forget those happier times they had together. "I didn't think you'd keep it, and I agree we should do more of those kinds of things again. THough the hiding aspect of that was kinda fun, you gotta admit" she said to him after he kissed her hand with a chuckle. "When dad caught you sneaking off that one time and started shouting after you out my window was particularly amusing" she smirked. "I thought he was going to burst a blood vessel in his throat" she laughed more.

Dean smirked at the memories flooding his brain. He had been so reckless as a teen, but it was what ended up making him an almost more reckless adult, if he was honest. He shrugged slightly, “I kept it because it seemed like the only way to hold onto you, you know? I have pictures of my mom…”

He stopped when he thought about Mary, but pushed the thought to the side and plastered the smile back onto his face, thinking about them sneaking and how things hadn’t really changed all that much, “I mean, we almost got kicked out of Bobby’s house for our…noise. It’s almost like sneaking again, if you think about it. Be careful of the bed creaking. Be careful of breaking anything. Be careful of pulling your face out of the blankets.”

He gave a soft laugh and remembered the night she was referring to of her dad losing his mind after realizing he was right, and Dean was indeed in the house. Dean was sure he was dead that night, and nearly broke his neck getting away, “I thought he was going to shoot me, or something. He came at me so fast…I ran like I was running from literal bullets. Didn’t make me come around any less, though.”

He continued running his fingers up and down her arm, sighing in contentment and honestly feeling a bit better.

He furrowed his brow, and smirked, “I mean, it’s not like my dad appreciated me having anything that lasted more than a night or two, either. There were times I was afraid he was going to choke me, especially after finding our food scraps in the back of his car. Woof…Sammy had to make up so many excuses to keep my head.”

"I'm glad you did and it's not just myself that kept the many polaroids" Mika replied knowing that her wall of stuck up polaroids would be one of the first things he would have noticed when he decided to enter her room when she wasn't there. It wasn't entirely shocking that he still had photos of Mary, she still kept one photo of her parents but it was always locked away in a drawer by her bed and very rarely ever saw the light of day. Even now in her twenties, it was far too painful to look at as she just always felt survivors guilt and that it was her fault they died because she refused to let Dean go. It was of course, not the case in the slightest but it's how she still felt.

She laughed as he pointed out how their lives hadn't really changed all that much since then as they were still getting into trouble with Bobby because of their noise and antics in her room which now she truly thought about it, was actually highly hilarious. "You got a point there. Which reminds me, we get that bigger bed he promised us for doing this damn hunt" she pointed out, oh how she was looking forward to that bigger more comfortable bed for the two of them.

When he also remembered the memory of her dad going for him she chuckled, remembering the speed at which Dean ran like it was yesterday. She nodded whilst chuckling at his remark about not stopping coming over, "That it true, even my mom was prepared to lie to him for us to be together. Think she was secretly shipping us together from the get go. She knew how much you protected me at school and stuff, and that's what meant a lot to her" she told him. She could tell how much better he was seeming to get and she was even sobering up and feeling a bit more with it herself.

Mika found herself thinking back intently at his next memory that came to his mind and it finally clicked, remembering those nights where Sam would not so willingly lie to John to help his big brother out. "I remember, even if he didn't agree all the time about our antics." she replied. "I'm pretty sure I even chewed your dad out once or twice which didn't always go great but man, it felt good to do" she smirked.

Dean raised his eyebrows, remembering that they got a new bed out of this whole thing. It only took a near broken leg and a hole in the back of the head to achieve. Nice! He thought about the fact that Bobby was a better father than either of them had realistically ever had, even if he did have his blow ups. He had leaned on Bobby since he was a teen, to bail him out of trouble with his Dad if he didn’t feel like doing something stupid that John wanted him to.

He smiled gently at the memory of her mom always liking him. He liked her too, truthfully. She took care of him, with the only rope tied to it being that he never let Mika get hurt, or ever made her cry, “She was someone that I felt pretty safe around. I think she could have taken your dad, if he had laid a good hand on me.”

He laughed a bit, adjusting himself with a small hiss as he forgot about his head. He was starting to feel like he could get through this without much more help, as far as needing a hospital. His tension was fading, from the fear of passing out or having seizures, something John would have seen as a weakness. When she mentioned John, right as his face flashed in Dean’s mind, Dean smirked, “I always kinda wanted you to slap him. He couldn’t have disapproved of you, less. And honestly, it would have been hot…”

He laughed a bit harder, “I would have taken the beating for that…”

Similar to Dean, Mika saw Bobby more of her father than her uncle. She may still call him 'uncle Bobby' but she was certain he and her both knew she would have loved nothing more than to call him 'dad'. He brought her up when she literally lost everything, when things were so difficult to get through on her own and even when she shut him out through her grief, he was always there making sure she was fed and had something to try and focus on even if she didn't always do those things. She couldn't have asked for a better guardian quite frankly and was almost glad that people thought of her as dead thanks to the remains of another red headed teenager nearby. It meant she didn't have to put through all kinds of legal hoops before being given to Bobby even though her mother always wished for her to be with him if something were to happen.

She chuckled when he said how he was sure her mother could have taken her father and truth was, she could see that as well. Her mother was a stubborn woman and when she put her foot down, it was difficult to change her mind....much like Mika was now she realised. "Oh she definitely would have. She always had a soft spot for you" she told him, whilst keeping the other part of her reply to herself in her mind, which was 'she would have been proud to call you her own'.

She looked up at him when he moved slightly and hissed but saw he was looking a lot healthier now and even had a lot more colour back in his face, which she wondered if she was the same or not. She laughed broadly when he admitted how he always wanted her to slap him and she had to admit, that thought had crossed her mind a few times over the years. "Oh I always wanted to, you have no idea how much willpower I had to summon to not slap or punch him in his face for what he's said or done to you and Sam, let alone me" she replied to him.

Dean kept his smile, until a loud thud and a scream perked his head up. He sat up, a little too quick, judging by the dizziness, and sat silently. He tried to listen to see if there was more noise, and much to his disappointment, there was. Dammit.

He slid off the side of the bed, holding a hand out to Mika with a finger raised, “Don’t…move…”

He reached for his gun that he had laid on her end table, checking the magazine. He then slid the magazine back into the gun, and pulled the slide to engage a round. Letting a deep sigh leave his mouth, he stepped up to the door, still shirtless, and pulled it open just as another scream rang out through the air.

Outside the door, it was chaotic as random strangers from other rooms left the safety of their doors to check on the commotion. He quickly gestured to a woman who approached him, “Go back to your room and lock your door. Do it now!”

Terrified, but seeing his gun, she nodded and ran back to her room. He shoved people into their rooms as he passed, attempting to find the source of the screams. Getting to the end of the motel row, he found his first clue, a body of a young girl. The girl was blonde, and looked to be no older than sixteen, but her throat was completely ripped out. It seemed the assault had happened recently, because even though she was dead, the blood was still pumping out of the wound. Frowning, Dean realized he wasn’t prepared, “Dammit. Of course it’s vampires. It’s always vampires, in Minnesota…”

He weighed his options, thinking over the fact that he didn’t have backup, with Mika laid up. He didn’t know how many vampires there were. He didn’t even know where to start, aside from grabbing a machete and hoping for the best. So, he did something rare. Gritting his teeth, he cursed himself for the decision, “It’s for Mika…”

He justified it out loud, an intrusive thought of Mika being helpless in the room flooding his rationale. He huffed and ran back toward their room, quickly opening the door. He stepped inside, slamming the door behind him and turning both locks before turning to Mika.

“We have to go…right now.”, he told her, quickly running around the room to gather their things. He shoved them into her arms, wrapped in a towel from the floor and held his arms out, “I’ll carry you, but just trust me. It’s Minnesota, and we gotta go.”

Mika was perfectly content with Dean, thinking that just for once they'd have a night in. A motel that wasn't full of drama, but then came a thud and shattered all illusions that'd they be okay and could relax. She instantly sat up and let go of Dean as he did also, both of them being trained far too well to just let that noise and scream go unchecked. Like him, she hoped there wouldn't be another scream but when there was, she sighed as he got up and told her not to move.

She wanted to protest, go and help him but she knew she was not able to do so, so she just nodded, "okay.. Dean, be careful" she told him with pleading eyes before she watched him exit the room. Whilst he was out the room, she fought through the pain in her leg to scoot over to the edge of the bed so she could reach for her bag. She had no idea if she was going to either be an easy target because she couldn't move much, or if she would need to try and help Dean by defending herself from her location.

With discomfort and pain, she unzipped her bag from the floor and pulled out some pyjama shorts she always had in just incase. Pulling herself back on the bed properly she stretched over herself to yank her shorts on because she was not prepared to be laying here in just underwear and vest. As she tried getting her shorts on, she gritted her teeth as she did all she could to muffle her scream from the pain shooting through her leg.

She just managed to get her shorts on when her eyes darted up toward the door as she heard it open but sighed with relief when it was Dean coming back in and not a threat as she couldn't even get to gun in time if it wasn't him. "Dean what's going on out there?" she asked seeing him frantically grabbing their stuff and giving it to her wrapped in a towel, her question going unanswered.

"okay" she just trusted his decision on the matter, scooting to the edge of the bed again so it would be easier for him to grab ahold of her, whilst keeping one firm hand gripping their stuff on her lap. "it's vampires...isn't it?" she finally asked.

Dean reached under her torso and her legs, careful to not put any pressure on her new wound, despite the hurry. He pulled her up with a bit of a groan, considering the bandages on his back and turned toward the door. Whipping it open, he pulled her body close to his, getting a firm grip on her, “You got it. There’s no way I can take them all on my own with just one machete. I mean, I could try, but if I don’t make it out, you’re a sitting duck.”

He sprinted to the car, pulling her keys off the top of the pile he had placed in her arms. He kneeled low to the ground with effort, sitting her gently on his knees as he unlocked the passenger door. Happy that it opened easier than John’s, he slowly stepped back, her still balanced on his knees and opened the door, before standing with effort, hoisting her back into his arms.

“Look at me, using logic, right?”, he joked, as he sat her down on the edge of the passenger seat. He helped her shove her legs inside the car, carefully placing both her feet on the floor, and then shut the door as a woman ran out of her room screaming and covered in blood, “They’re going to take this whole place…”

He got into the drivers side of the car, and turned to her, panic on his face, “We’ll get out of Minnesota, and find another place to rest, until we can get back to Bobby’s…but they’re going to take this whole place. Put your head down…”

With that, he started the engine and quickly reversed before peeling out of the parking lot, the bloody woman trying to chase them, begging for help.

Mika wished just once they didn't have to deal with more complications than they already had. She knew that she wouldn't have been happy with Dean going after the vampires on his own as that was in her eyes, suicide. Yet she also wouldn't have put it passed him to have at least attempted it. So when he admitted he was choosing rationale over brawn she was openly surprised. That surprise must have been clear on her face as Dean made the comment he did, making her chuckle even in desperate times. "If we get out of this, consider me impressed" she smirked, as he ran to the car and squatted down with her to get the door open, whilst keeping safe.

She moved as quickly as she physically possible all things considered to get in the passenger side, feeling once again so glad that Dean knew how to drive. She looked out the windows as she saw a woman running up to them screaming that the vampires were ready to take the whole place. She didn't quite get what the woman was saying, so when Dean got in the driver's side and expained what she said, she nodded, knowing they really needed to get out of there. She did as he told her, keeping low in the seat still hearing the woman shouting after them both, clearly hoping they'd take her with them but they couldn't risk it.

As conflicted the decision to leave her behind made Mika feel, she knew it was for the best. She didn't make a habit of leaving people behind but for all they knew this woman was a vampire acting like a victim to get to them. "I just hope we're doing the right thing leaving these poor sods at the hands the vamps" she sighed as she watched the woman chasing them and begging.