After that, they decided to leave.
The motel was already drawing too much attention. Fire trucks would arrive soon, then cops, and eventually FBI questions nobody wanted to answer—especially Dean.
So they got back into the Impala and pulled onto the road, leaving the burning motel behind them.
Henry sat in the backseat wearing a spare set of clothes Dean had grabbed in a hurry from some roadside store. The shirt was too loose around the shoulders and the pants didn't fit much better.
"Dean," Henry said, adjusting the collar with annoyance, "couldn't you find a better size? Moving in this feels like ass."
Dean kept his eyes on the road. "I grabbed whatever I could before the whole damn place filled with cops," he replied. "Relax. We'll stop in the next town and get you something that actually fits."
Henry muttered something under his breath but let it go. Instead, he picked up the ice pack resting beside him and pressed it against the side of his face.
The burn marks were still healing.
Not as bad as before, but enough that the skin still looked raw in places.
The car fell quiet for a while after that.
Then Henry noticed Sam.
He'd been staring out the window the entire drive, barely reacting to anything around him.
Henry frowned slightly as he looked at Sam.
"Sam," he said, lowering the ice pack from his face, "what happened to you? You've been spacing out ever since the motel."
Sam didn't answer immediately.
Henry leaned back in the chair with a tired sigh.
"Did you also run into a demon?" he muttered. "Those annoying pieces of trash can't even let people shower in peace."
That pulled Sam out of his thoughts.
He looked over at Henry, hesitating for a second before speaking.
"Henry… I wanted to ask you something."
Dean glanced up instantly from where he was sitting.
"Well, that's new," he said. "Sam asking somebody else questions instead of pretending he already knows the answer."
Sam ignored him completely.
"You remember that woman?" he asked Henry. "The one who showed up when we ran into the Seven Deadly Sins?"
Henry's expression changed immediately.
"Oh, that bitch," he said flatly. "Don't tell me she approached you."
"Her name's Ruby," he said. "And she's a demon."
Dean blinked.
"Wait—that chick was a demon?" he said. "Then why the hell was she helping us?"
Henry gave a dry laugh at that.
"Because that's how demons work," he said. "They don't walk up wearing signs saying 'I'm here to ruin your life.' Ruby's worse than most because she's smart about it."
Sam stayed quiet, listening carefully.
"She gives information," Henry continued. "Helps just enough to make you think she's useful. Makes it look like she's on your side. Then the second you trust her, she'll stab you in the back if it benefits her."
Dean snorted.
"Yeah, sounds about right for a demon."
Henry pointed at him slightly.
"Exactly. Which is why the moment you see one, you kill it. Don't talk. Don't negotiate."
Dean nodded immediately.
"Honestly, that demon knife's making life easier," he said. "Used to be we needed a whole exorcism setup. Now? Stab and done."
Sam leaned back slightly after hearing all that, his expression harder to read now.
The next time he saw Ruby, he'd be more careful.
Because between trusting a demon he barely knew—
Or trusting family—
That wasn't really a difficult choice.
***
After two days, the group arrived in Sea Pines to investigate another case.
Several people had drowned nowhere near the coast or any water bodies, all under strange circumstances.
Which immediately made it suspicious.
Deaths around water rarely stayed normal for long in their line of work.
Dean and Sam had gone off to question locals and look through reports while Henry stayed near the docks, deciding he'd rather enjoy the sea air than spend another hour inside a diner listening to witnesses repeat the same story differently.
The Chevrolet Impala sat parked nearby while Henry stood near the edge of the dock, hands in his pockets as cold wind rolled in from the water.
"Fresh air always beats the rotten pollution from cities," he muttered, stretching slightly.
Then he turned sharply and caught someone's wrist before they could touch him.
The owner of the hand froze.
Henry looked at her calmly.
"Bela," he said. "Didn't I tell you to try acting civilized next time? Still holding onto that grudge?"
Bela Talbot smiled immediately, trying to twist her wrist free from his grip.
"Now, now," she said smoothly, "I was only going to say hello."
Henry didn't let go.
"No," he said flatly. "You were about to push me into the sea."
Bela placed her free hand against her chest dramatically.
"I am wounded by your lack of trust."
"You walked up behind me while I was standing at the edge of a dock," Henry replied. "That's not how normal people greet each other."
Bela's smile widened slightly.
"And yet you still caught me."
"So, Bela," he said with a faint smile, "what are you doing here? Found someone else to scam?"
"It's not a scam," Bela replied immediately. "It's business."
She tried to twist her hand free while stepping sideways at the same time, probably planning to walk away with whatever dignity she still had left in the conversation.
Instead, her heel caught awkwardly against the uneven dock platform.
Her balance shifted fast enough to matter.
Bela's eyes widened slightly.
"Wait—don't—"
Instinct took over.
She grabbed onto Henry with her free hand to stop herself from falling.
The problem was that Henry was standing too close to the edge already.
His foot snagged against the guardrail chain near the dock, balance disappearing the moment Bela's weight crashed into him.
Henry looked down once at the chain around his leg.
"…seriously?"
Then both of them tipped backward over the edge.
A loud splash followed as they crashed into the sea together.
*****
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