The Runt of the Litter

Kiss, Don't Tell

Note: Thanks for reading, voting, and commenting, Beautifuls ❤️You guys are the best!

This chapter was requested by the incredibly patient whoreforwanda (that's a next-level username btw), who asked for this like two months ago. I'm so sorry it took this long. I really appreciate that you waited so long, and you literally didn't even nag me once. I'm not gonna write out the request here, because I don't want to give away the purpose of the chapter, but seriously, you're awesome, and I appreciate you.

Also, fun fact: This is the only chapter I've ever written where neither Sam nor Dean is present in even one scene. I didn't even realize until I was almost done writing it. It's kinda whack.

Anna is seventeen.

Kiss, Don't Tell

Anna placed a binder in her locker and pulled out Nausea by Sartre to drop it into her backpack. She'd boldly assumed that getting her license would mean getting to drive herself to school every day, but Anna was far from right in that assumption. Dean still didn't want her driving Baby all the time, especially because the boys were so often leaving for hunts and going to and fro from the bunker into town and vice versa.

Her suggestion of getting her own car had been met with familiar promises of after graduation, maybe. But after graduation, she wouldn't have the same need of having her own car, because she would be going on every hunt with them... though Anna couldn't help but wonder increasingly frequently these days whether that assumption was just as bold and incorrect as the notion that she would be driving herself to school every day by now.

She slammed her locker shut and turned around, slinging her backpack over her shoulder. The hallway was full of kids moving back and forth toward class, but this was her free block. She stepped into the crowd of people and headed for the library. She and Ethan usually hung out there during this block, but he was out sick today, so she would just spend the time reading by herself.

She prepared to settle into her usual spot in the back corner, but curled up in one of two moon chairs she and Ethan usually occupied was a face she hadn't expected to see. Mila Numan.

It had been a long time since she'd even actually spoken to Mila, but they were far from friends last Anna had checked, and she suddenly wanted to run in the other direction. There was no inconspicuous way to turn around, though, and she didn't want to be an asshole, so she just sat down in the other chair and pulled out her book. She was surprised when Mila looked up at her with a soft smile and said, "Hi."

"Hi," Anna replied, equal parts confused and bored.

"Long time no see."

Oh, so they were doing a conversation. "Yeah. Been since sophomore year or something."

"That sounds right."

Anna hummed an agreement and went back to opening her book. Mila's voice stopped her. "How are you?"

She didn't want to be rude, but this was the last conversation she wanted to have-- exchanging pleasantries with Mila of all people. "I'm fine," she said. "Are we really sitting here talking about nothing?"

Mila looked down, and Anna suddenly got the feeling that they hadn't met here by mistake. "It's a lot easier than talking about what I came here to talk about," Mila said quietly. It was a new look for her, this bashfulness, and it was either refreshing or annoying. Anna couldn't decide which.

"Didn't realize you wanted to talk to me at all," she said.

Mila shrugged. "I was thinking it's been a while, and we should get through some stuff."