Welcome to SU: Legacy, a next-gen Supernatural RP that takes place in the year 2040. The Men of Letters has expanded to include three base locations across the continental US. Angels and demons have gone mostly dormant but there are still supernatural evils lurking in the shadows. The legacies could use your help. Are you in?
Giving credit where credit is due. A big thank you to all the coders at PBS and various resource sites for any codes, plug-ins and templates.
Thanks to Nick @ Fidelius for the fabulous mini-profile. Everything else was created by our own staff. If we missed someone please let us know.
We don't own Supernatural, we just enjoy it's awesomeness. Thanks Eric Kripke for creating it, all the writers/producers for putting out a great show and the CW for keeping it on the air for almost 10 years now!
The tension in the room shot up in the room when Dean started in on her. Sully hoped that Dean hadn’t noticed the way her shoulders slightly raised, or the few moments she held her breath as Dean went on about her healing him. After the initial shock, Sully forced herself to relax, despite the fact that the tension was growing thicker. It was as if someone took all the humidity out of the air in the tropics and shoved it in the small little motel room. It pressed in on her chest and despite the urge to breathe quicker, Sully forced her breath to stay steady and gave Dean what she hoped was a neutral gaze, letting her eyes and her features go blank.
Idiotic suddenly seemed like a mild term for the actions Sully had done. Moronic maybe, or short bus special probably fit the bill too. What the hell had she been thinking? Sully knew better. She knew to be discreet if and when she used her powers. If and when usually meant when someone was a hell of a lot worse off than Dean had been with no medical attention around. Even then Sully made sure she had a clean exit so these types of questions wouldn’t come up.
Getting up, Sully went to grab a fresh set of clothes from her bag. Dean seemed to sense something as he was suddenly standing in front of her, holding his palms out as if he were trying to gently talk her down from doing something stupid. He was also blocking her exit, which made Sully uneasy. She liked to have a clear road if it need be. She was debating how much effort it was going to take to get Dean out of her way, grab her things and leave. She could show up at the rodeo later and they’d both be too busy for Dean to be able to question her.
“Please, give me some credit. I’m not an idiot despite what you think. I know you did something to me yesterday, not just last night, but you put your hand on me after I fell at the rodeo and it had the same effect then. You’ve got some kind of healing ability in your hands, haven’t you.”
Dean’s tone of voice was confident and Sully knew she was going to have to do something to change that. She raised an eyebrow at him, changing her gaze from neutral as if she were looking at a crazy person. Her brow lifted and she crossed her arms over her chest, squaring her shoulders and shifting her weight on her hip.
“You know, I didn’t honestly think you were an idiot until just now,” She rolled her eyes at him. “You really think I can just touch you and heal you? I think someone can’t handle his whiskey as much as he thinks. You just weren’t hurt as bad as you thought, Cowboy. I didn’t hit you that hard last night. Your nose swelled up a little, but that’s it. As for the rodeo,” She gave a light shrug. “You were doped up on pain killers, apparently you were hallucinating.” She narrowed her gaze. “Oh, I get it, you’re trying to avoid telling me whatever it is your hiding, so instead you accuse me of having ‘magic hands’,” She held up her palms and wiggled fingers dramatically. “Accusing me of being a freak!”
Despite her best efforts Sully felt anger spreading through her veins. Letting her hands drop to her side, Sully closed her eyes and laughed bitterly before looking back up at Dean. “You don’t want to tell me what the hell is going on, fine, but don’t you dare try to turn this around on me.”
Giving him one final glare, Sully shook her head and went to move past him, knocking her shoulder roughly into his for good measure.
Post by ZZZ - Dean - RETIRED on Oct 6, 2010 11:07:22 GMT -8
Dean really did have a habit of poking things that didn’t like to be poked. He could tell from the momentary flash of shock in Sully’s eyes that she had hoped he wasn’t going to raise the subject of last night, but if she wanted him to be honest, it worked both ways. The shock gave way quickly to anger and annoyance, both masked by indifference and eventually, a temptation to feign ignorance. Whilst it might have worked on someone else, Dean had a gift for reading people. Particularly people a lot like himself.
“You really think I can just touch you and heal you? I think someone can’t handle his whiskey as much as he thinks. You just weren’t hurt as bad as you thought, Cowboy. I didn’t hit you that hard last night. Your nose swelled up a little, but that’s it. As for the rodeo? You were doped up on pain killers, apparently you were hallucinating.”
“We’re playing that game are we? Pretending like you don’t know what I mean to make me think I didn’t actually see what I know I saw last night, huh?” Dean didn’t back down an inch, both feet remaining firmly planted where they were.
“Oh, I get it, you’re trying to avoid telling me whatever it is your hiding, so instead you accuse me of having ‘magic hands’. Accusing me of being a freak!”
“I never said you were a freak. Do you think you’re a freak?” He replied, quickly using her own words against her. “And why would you think that? Maybe because you have ‘magic hands’?” Mockingly he held up his own hands and wiggled his own fingers just the same way she had done with hers moments before.
“You don’t want to tell me what the hell is going on, fine, but don’t you dare try to turn this around on me.”
Without another word, Sully grabbed her clothes and went to push past him, pointedly giving him a nudge in the shoulder to just show that she wasn’t intimidated by him. Dean responded by putting his palm on the door she was in the process of opening, slamming it shut so she couldn’t walk away from the conversation.
“Not so fast. We’re settling this now before we go anywhere. So, the sooner you tell me what’s going on, the sooner we can finish this hunt and be out of each other’s hair for good.” His hand remained pressed against the door, ready to slam it shut again should she try and open it once more.
The door knob slipped from Sully’s hand when Dean slammed the door shut. She hadn’t been expecting that. She blinked a few times, her hand still in mid air as her brain tried to function through a fog of anger and figure out what the hell had just happened. A red haze settled over her as she turned to look at Dean, her eyes narrowed as she pictured his head as a target. The bulls eye being his nose. She had broken it once, and for whatever out-of-her-mind reason, had even been kind enough to heal it. A fact she was trying to somehow disprove even though Dean was being adamant. She wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. “Not so fast. We’re settling this now before we go anywhere. So, the sooner you tell me what’s going on, the sooner we can finish this hunt and be out of each other’s hair for good.”
Those words meant nothing to her. Who the hell was Dean to interrogate her? He wouldn’t even answer the questions Sully had asked him, and he was trying to get answers from her? She took slow deep breaths. If she opened her mouth she was only going to throw a slur of obscenities his way, all of which he deserved, but she wanted to be able to articulate them properly.
She was still tired, the coffee having helped, but her body was still wounded and honestly she did not want to deal with this shit. Sully had to barrel race in a few hours and how the hell she was going to stay in the saddle was a mystery to her. There was no way she was going to qualify this time, but the cover still got her inside the arena and not in the audience stand. Dean however, still had his hand pressed against the door. She was tempted to punch his fingers, possibly breaking them between her knuckles and the door. Dean was treading into dangerous territory.
Blacking out from her anger didn’t happen often, but it did happen when she was pushed over the edge. Right now she was teetering and if Dean continued pushing, Sully knew her vision was going to go red and after that, well she couldn’t be held responsible for her actions.
Of course that begged the question, why was Dean getting to her so badly? Sully normally let the irritation caused by egotistical bastards like him roll of her back. Granted her powers were a touchy subject, and she was glad Dean only knew about the healing aspect. If he knew she could Spirit Walk, she imagined that he would only be prying more. She didn’t want him to know her secrets. She didn’t know Dean from Joe Schmoe on the sidewalk. People knowing what she could do left her open to attacks. Sully had no doubt that certain people would want to exploit her powers, while others would just want to kill her straight off for having them.
Never mind the fact that they weren’t dark powers. That they came from her Native American heritage. They wouldn’t ask those questions. They’d shoot first, and not care later. Some would see her as just another thing to hunt. Sully didn’t want for that to happen.
Sully turned her body so she was fully facing Dean and took several deep breaths. “You self righteous, hypocritical, son of a bitch.” The words were low, calm, no emotion in them. “You expect me to tell you my secrets, that have nothing to do with this hunt, when you won’t even tell me yours when there’s a damn good possibility that whatever is going on with you does?” She gave a stiff shake of her head, never taking her gaze from him. “I don’t think so.”
“See Cowboy, I’ve met men like you. Men who think what they say goes, just because they say it. Who think that they’re in charge and have the right to do whatever the hell they want.” Her hands clenched into fists as she spoke. Sully was riding the anger, letting it flow through her, almost consume her as she spoke. “News flash, Cowboy, maybe that works with your little buddies, but it sure as hell doesn’t work with me. Now, let me tell you how this is going to work. You’re going to take your hand off that door and step out of the way.” Her words hadn’t changed in tone, but she could feel the anger getting closer to the surface. “And if you don’t, well Cowboy, I promise you, I really can’t be held responsible for my actions.”
Post by ZZZ - Dean - RETIRED on Oct 8, 2010 9:42:20 GMT -8
Well that was the straw that broke the camel's back. Her secrets had everything to do with the case when she'd used her healing hands on him not once, but twice in the duration of it. Ordinarily he'd have been grateful for her help, but she just rubbed him the wrong way for him to feel any sort of gratitude right now.
"Oh, I can assure you, you haven't met any man like me, but I've met plenty of women like you who have a chip on their shoulder for one reason or another." He kept his hand firmly in place against the door as he carried on. It was about time he gave her a piece of his mind after she'd spent the better part of the last day giving him hers.
"You hate every guy you run into who isn't just a cheap one night stand and I'll bet its because one loser in your past turned out to be an asshole. Well boo hoo. Deal with that and move on, don't take it out on the rest of our gender just because you've got issues. And quit being such a control freak. No wonder you're on your own, you probably scare everyone else away with your stubbornly agressive personality. Maybe you should try not being a bitch, then people wouldn't wanna kill you all the time."
Those words were worse than being punched. It was like the Dean and shoved a hand into her gut and painfully twisted her innards about before ripping them out and doing a tap dance on them. The anger began to drain from her, leaving exhaustion in its place. Dean didn’t know how close he’d come to at least a part of the truth, though he was wrong about the loser in her past.
Sully didn’t realize how tired she was until that moment. She knew she was a bitch. She knew people didn’t like her. That was exactly the point. If people don’t like you, there’s no chance of getting close to them. Of caring. Life was better that way, easier. Still she was tired of being angry all the time, tired of fighting, but she didn’t know any other way to be. It had long ago become who Sully was and she didn’t know how to change that and probably wouldn’t if she could. Maybe she was hoping for death to claim her sooner rather than later.
Physically shaking the thoughts from her head Sully grasped onto the thread of anger and pulled it back up letting it wash over her again. Being angry was better than having self pity. All of this ran through her mind within a matter of seconds, before she glared back at Dean.
“You’re a real piece of work, you know that Cowboy?” She practically spat the words. “You think you got me all figured out is that it?” She laughed bitterly. “Try again.” Before she knew what she was doing her fist was once again flying towards Dean’s face.
Post by ZZZ - Dean - RETIRED on Oct 11, 2010 10:21:10 GMT -8
Was it a step too far? Maybe, but it was what Dean felt at the time he’d said it and Sully certainly needed to hear a few home truths whether she wanted to or not. That said, he could have done without what happened next. He was prepared for her to start throwing punches again, swinging a fist when she found something she disliked appeared to be a default reaction, but evidently he’d touched upon a very raw nerve and now she was pissed and he was too tired and sore to be as quick as he usually was.
Her first blow glanced off his jaw, the table and chairs behind him stopping Dean from stepping far enough back out of reach. If she was going to leave it at just the one punch, then Dean might not have retaliated, but he could see from the haze of red in her expression, she wanted blood and considering how much he hated to play defence, he decided to head her off at the pass and get a strike of his own in to slow her down.
He’d never enjoyed hitting women - with the minor exception of Ruby, though technically she was a demon, so it was fine - and part of him held back from really using all his brawn against Sully. As crazy as she was, and as tough as she was, somehow it just didn’t seem right. Where he could, he blocked her attacks with his arms or by turning his body away from them, but the odd fist caught him off guard and damn could that woman punch. So he stepped up his game and threw a few decent blows of his own, figuring that if she was man enough to start a fight, she was man enough to deal with the consequences. Things rapidly got out of control after that and in the tiny space of a dingy motel room, it was all out war.
When it was over, Sully was sitting on the floor, her back against the rough, fake textured wall of the motel room. She was out of breath and sore as hell. Dean could throw a punch. The motel room itself was in shambles. Tables were toppled, chairs were broken. The screen to the TV had a large crack down the center of it. At that moment Sully was grateful for identity theft, because she’d sure as hell hate to be the one paying for this.
Wiping her lip Sully looked down at the smeared blood on her hand and shook her head. A bitter laugh slipped from her throat and she leaned her head back against the wall, her eyes coming to rest on Dean. He was as worse for wear as she was. Eventually the fight had dwindled simply because they were exhausted. At some point physical exhaustion will take over. While they were both in excellent shape, they were also both injured to begin with. Sully at this point seemed to be worse off since she’d managed to heal him.
“You’re not a half bad fighter, Cowboy,” She said bringing a knee up to her chest and resting her arm atop it. She was still pissed at him. Well maybe she was more pissed at herself. If Sully hadn’t slipped up she doubted it would have come this far. Then again Dean would probably be practically useless in a fight if she hadn’t. Then again she didn’t really need him to take this demon down.
Sighing she wiggled her toes and glared at him. There was only one way they were going to settle this, and while Sully didn’t like it, it seemed necessary. She didn’t want a hell of a lot of people knowing what she could do. If Dean told anyone else she could simply deny it. They couldn’t force her powers out of her, and if they tried to hurt her to make Sully heal herself, well she couldn’t do that anyway.
“Since I want this over with as much as you do,” She said in a snarky tone. “I guess there’s only one way to go about this.” God she hated him. A slow grin spread on her face. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Post by ZZZ - Dean - RETIRED on Oct 26, 2010 6:26:57 GMT -8
In an almost mirror image of Sully, Dean slid down the opposite wall of the motel room, landing with such a lack of energy he wondered if he’d ever bother to get up again. It wasn’t often he fought a chick with as many dirty tactics as himself, nor one who had as much stamina as he did when it came to brawling. At least one that wasn’t a demon anyway.
Catching his breath and wiping away a smear of blood from his eyebrow, he felt something sharp catch his skin and when he looked, there were a couple of wood splinters stuck in the side of his hand. He’d put it up to deflect the chair Sully was swinging at his head. The chair that was now in several pieces all over the room. Unexpectedly, the thought of her in a wrestling ring, swinging chairs made him huff out a little bit of a laugh. If ever he wanted someone on his side in a tussle, it’d be her.
“You’re not a half bad fighter, Cowboy,”
“Thanks.” Pulling a chunk of wood out of his hand with his thumb and forefinger he flicked it across the room. “You’re not so bad yourself.” He admitted as he plucked another splinter out. This time he watched where it landed, noticing for the first time that the television was on it’s side on the floor next to him, sporting a large crack down the centre.
“Man…housekeeping’s gonna be pissed.” He chuckled, strangely impressed that they’d managed to destroy an entire room so thoroughly.
“Since I want this over with as much as you do…I guess there’s only one way to go about this. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
Dean glanced up at her then, knowing full well that they both had to come clean with their secrets if they were to have any chance of moving on and finishing up this hunt. Pride and paranoia had gotten in the way up until now, but fist fights were a great way to cut through all the bullshit and find out what kind of a person someone was. Dean had a new found respect for her, even if she had almost broken his jaw with a lamp.
The big question however, was who would go first? Dean decided after a long moment of silence that she was hoping it would be him.
Whatever happened to ladies first?
Well, she‘d have to be a lady for a start…
“Okay fine.” He started, sighing to himself as he stiffly stretched out both his legs in front of him.
“You want to know the reason I think I can see the Mara and you can’t?” He paused, but not to let her answer, more to make sure he was about to do the right thing.
Sully blinked for several seconds trying to wrap her head around that. Or unwrap it. Had she hit her head? The room wasn’t spinning. No blurry vision. Sticking a finger in her ear Sully wiggled it around as if something was blocking coherent words from making their way to her ear drums. She couldn’t have heard him right.
Hell? HELL! Yup, she was officially hearing things. Except what else could he have said? I’ve been to smell? Bell? Well? Cell? Okay yeah, cell she could understand if it was of the padded variety. She kept trying to find words that rhymed with hell that would make sense as to why Dean could see the Mara and she couldn’t. The entire time she stayed blinking at him.
It seemed like the world has slowed down as she thought, Dean’s gaze boring into her as she dumbly stared back. Hell? HELL! If he had been to hell and he was now back wouldn’t that mean he was a demon? Yet he had been around when she yelled Christo. He didn’t flinch. She’d read somewhere that there were more powerful demons who didn’t flinch against Christo and Deus, but she’d never actually met one, and if he was a demon why the hell had he killed that other demon and why was he helping her kill the Mara? For that matter why hadn’t he healed on his own when his nose had been broken or killed Sully while she slept?
Hell? HELL! Okay something was a miss here. Like a huge chunk of sanity. Possibly hers. Sully wasn’t sure at the moment. If he had been to hell and he wasn’t a demon what the FUCK was he? No human just waltzed out of hell all well…human! Her gaze narrowed, wondering if shoving a bag of salt down his throat would do anything other than possibly give him a stroke or a heart attack.
Finally, after what probably seemed like an eternity the blinking stopped. “Hell? HELL! Like the hell? Fire, brimstone, the devil, hell?” Leaning her head back against the wall the blinking resumed. “Well damn Cowboy, I hate to have to be the one to tell you this, but either your crazy or some kind of new demon I ain’t run across yet. If you are a demon, I’m likely to let you live, seeing as how you did me the same courtesy, but I’m leaning more towards religious fanatic, you really oughta be in a straight jacket and medicated crazy.”
Post by ZZZ - Dean - RETIRED on Oct 27, 2010 6:29:34 GMT -8
Dean could practically see the gears turning in her head as she tried to process the confession he’d just given her. Not that he could blame her for having a hard time with the information, he was the one who’d been to Hell and sometimes he struggled to deal with it too.
Okay, so sometimes was an understatement. Try every day.
“Hell? HELL! Like the hell? Fire, brimstone, the devil, hell?”
“You know another Hell?” He asked casually, finding himself surprisingly calm now that he’d actually told her.
“Well damn Cowboy, I hate to have to be the one to tell you this, but either your crazy or some kind of new demon I ain’t run across yet. If you are a demon, I’m likely to let you live, seeing as how you did me the same courtesy, but I’m leaning more towards religious fanatic, you really oughta be in a straight jacket and medicated crazy.”
“I’m inclined to agree with you about the crazy part.” He chuckled, dropping his hands into his lap. One of these days he was going to end up in the looney bin, huddled in a corner muttering stuff about monsters and demons that would have the shrink's studying him for years.
“Though I am the last person you would call a religious fanatic. Pretty sure I’m not a demon either, but if you want to run the drill on me, I won’t take it personally. I’ll even sing Christo for you if it makes you feel any better.”
Rubbing her face Sully let out a frustrated sound. Dean sounded eerily calm about having gone to hell. The truth was, Sully didn’t know what to make of it. He didn’t seem to be a demon, and she contemplated giving him a bath in holy water or just trying an exorcism on him for the hell of it. Okay well maybe just to make sure.
“What. The. Fuck.”
Those seemed to be about the only coherent words she could muster at the moment. Her brain was still trying to process all of this. If Dean had gone to hell, how the hell had he come back human? Then again if he was totally human how was he able to see the damn Mara when all Sully saw was a lady with too much make up riding on a normal looking horse? His answer had given her so many more questions. She figured it would probably take the rest of their lives for him to answer them so she stuck with the most important one.
Letting her hands fall into her lap again, Sully looked over at him. Damn if this hunt wasn’t taking its toll on her. Her body felt older than its twenty-seven years and all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep for a week. Unfortunately they didn’t have that luxury. Well at least she did. She honestly didn’t know about Dean.
“All right hell boy, let’s say I believe you.” Sully pulled her legs in so she was sitting Indian style and pulled the braids out of her hair. “How does one go to hell and then come back without being a demon?”
Post by ZZZ - Dean - RETIRED on Oct 30, 2010 5:59:40 GMT -8
“All right hell boy, let’s say I believe you.”
Which you clearly don’t, but alright…
“How does one go to hell and then come back without being a demon?”
It was a very good question. One he’d asked himself over and over that initial couple of days he’d been back. At first, he wasn’t sure if he was even out of Hell at all, having to claw yourself up your own grave and the long hot walk back to civilisation had seemed like just another twisted way to punish him, but the air had smelt fresh enough and the quiet of a lonely back road had been something he’d missed for far too long. There were no screams or howls of pain, no voices begging him for mercy and no cackles of evil laughter from demons who peered over his shoulders like devils. It was just calm and peaceful.
He’d escaped the pit.
At the time, he hadn’t known quite how, his mind had too much to process all at once that the details got lost in the noise, but gradually and painfully the memories returned. The more he remembered about what he’d become in Hell, the more he questioned how it was he hadn’t returned as a demon. He had been well on the road to it before Castiel swooped in and raised him from the fiery darkness, so why was it holy water and salt didn’t work on him? For that matter, why didn’t he have black eyes like the rest of the damned souls who’d crawled their way out of Hell’s depths?
The only logical conclusion he could think of was that Cas had done something to him when he brought his soul back. He just wasn’t sure if the angel had actually burned away the demon in him, or just buried it deep in a lockable room in his mind. Only time would tell.
“I got dragged out by an angel.” He said matter of factly, the amused smirk still twitching at the corner of his mouth. If she didn’t believe anything he’d said up to now, there was no way she would be able to accept that was true either.
Angels were one of the rarest creatures in existence. For over two thousand years no-one had even glimpsed one, yet now Dean had one on call? Sometimes he wondered why he was so important to them, because he didn’t deserve to be. For most of his life, he hadn’t even been remotely religious. Surely, especially after the sins he’d commited, he should be the last person on an angel’s rolodex, yet Castiel kept following him around like some…well like some guardian angel. Dean just felt unworthy.
Or maybe Cas was keeping tabs on him because they weren’t sure if he wasn’t a demon either.
“His name is Castiel and he dresses like a tax accountant from Detroit.” Dean added, partly hoping she'd think he was just joking with her so she'd stop digging for answers.
Sully blinked at Dean for a few moments. She couldn’t seem to do anything else. It was like her body had suddenly been paralyzed by the shock of all this. Sully still wasn’t sure she believed him. The quirk at the corner of his mouth seemed more bitter than amused, as if he really didn’t want to be telling her any of this. Sully could imagine if one had been ripped out of hell by an…angel that it probably wouldn’t be something they wanted to think on often.
This whole thing was giving Sully a headache. They hadn’t even gotten to her secret, which at this moment didn’t really seem like much in comparison to Dean’s. If he was even telling the truth. Sully honestly didn’t know. If demon’s existed, well then she supposed angels could too. Completely dismissing the idea would be asinine of her. Hell she’d never thought skinwalkers were real until one attacked her and her father. This entire story, while insanely farfetched, could be true. Could be, didn’t mean it was though.
“His name is Castiel and he dresses like a tax accountant from Detroit.”
The blinking started again and Sully felt the corner of her left eye twitching. “An angel that dresses like a tax accountant from Detroit?”
Blink. Twitch. Blink. Twitch.
Sully burst out laughing. She couldn’t help it. It was either that or scream at Dean about yanking her chain. Her side protested the laughter. Wrapping an arm around her middle to keep the muscles constricted she kept laughing until she was out of breath.
“Oh Cowboy,” She said between her settling laughter. “You really had me going for a minute. Really though, the tax account from Detroit thing, take that out of the story. It gives the whole thing away.”
Post by ZZZ - Dean - RETIRED on Nov 1, 2010 9:42:33 GMT -8
It made him smile to see Sully laugh, really laugh for a change. After the intensity of their argument and the resulting angry fist fight - was it still a fist fight if kicking and head butting were included? Not to mention using furniture as weapons - he thought they both needed to relax a little bit.
A part of him felt that perhaps his suffering in Hell wasn’t something to be laughed at, his time in the underworld still gave him vivid nightmares most every night and had forced him to drink just to get through the days, but if it avoided him having to explain the gory details, he was happy to let her carry on believing he was winding her up.
Of course, if ever she was around when Castiel randomly appeared with grave warnings about the apocalypse, then that would be one hell of a moment to capture on camera. ‘I told you so’ wouldn’t even cut it.
“So c’mon then? I‘ve shown you mine, your turn now. How’d you get magic mojo fingers?”
“So c’mon then? I‘ve shown you mine, your turn now. How’d you get magic mojo fingers?”
The last bit of laughter faded from Sully’s lips and she straightened herself, wiping her face and glancing over at Dean. He hadn’t shown Sully anything. He’d told her a fabricated story. Unless, he believed what he told her. Maybe part of it was true. Maybe he’d been taken and tortured by demons. That wasn’t so far fetched. Maybe someone got him out, and Dean’s mind for whatever reason thought it was an angel. She could believe something along those lines. Maybe something had happened during that time and that’s why Dean could see the Mara. Sully had no doubt that damn demon horse existed.
The question was, did she tell him the truth? Dean’s mind already seemed like a ticking bomb on the count down to blowing up. She had to admit though, he was good at storytelling. Honestly, he had her going until the whole tax accountant bit. That was just ridiculous. Why would an angel dress like a tax accountant? That was just weird.
“I didn’t get them,” Sully said, deciding on the truth. She figured Dean told her the truth as he saw it. Sully figured she could do the same. “I’ve had them since puberty. Apparently my Native American blood came complete with Shamanistic tendencies.”