The glare off the sleek black paint job of my new neighbor's car blinded me for a moment before I stopped dead in my tracks. Baby? I stood there frozen for a moment just staring at the Impala, the License plate matched KAZ 2Y5. The deadbolt slapped back from the room next to mine sending my heart pounding against my ribs. A very tall young man with a sweet smile and shaggy brown hair waved to me. I didn't move, my ears were ringing. This wasn't happening. I'm still dreaming.
"Hey, are you okay?" he asked, taking a step towards me.
"Sam?" a voice called from the doorway. My head snapped to the door way. There he was, the man of my dreams who vanished into thin air two years ago. I didn't think, I saw red and just moved.
"You Son of a Bitch" I breathed, darting towards him. His haunting green eyes went wide "Fra-," was all he could get out before my fist connected with his jaw snapping his head violently to the side, he took a dazed step back into the motel room.
"Dean!" Sam yelled from behind us.
"Stay out of this Sam!" I yelled, kicking Dean in the chest to get him further into the room and slammed the door behind us. Flipping the lock and bracing myself against the door. Sam pounded violently behind it, "Dean!"
Dean held his arm out towards me, blinking in a daze. I grabbed his hand and twisted it in the opposite direction. He groaned in pain, leaning into the twist to relieve some of the pain. I kneed the back of his leg to get a better height advantage and pulled out my silver blade and ran it across his forearm. No sizzling. Not a shapeshifter. I shoved him away panting a bit. Realizing I had lost control of my anger, looking down at the blood on my blade. I quickly sheathed it back on my left side.
"Dean!" Sam yelled again from the other side of the door.
"It's alright Sammy!" Dean yelled back. He looked at his arm and then back at me in horror.
"Get up." I spat.
"Are you going to hit me again?" he asked genuinely.
"Depends entirely on you." I growled, keeping eye contact with him as he slowly rose from the floor. My fists were balled up at my sides, I dug my finger nails into my palms to keep the rage from bubbling over again.
He touched his lip with his thumb and looked down at the blood, his expression stealing. He opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off, "Uh uh, you are going to listen very carefully Winchester. I'm going to tell you a story. So pay attention." I hissed. Our eyes still glued to each others.
"I waited three months" I stopped, taking in a steady breath to keep calm and tell the story right. The way I have rehearsed it over and over again in my head. "Three months, before I officially started to freak out. I tried calling you over and over and left voicemail after voicemail, begging you to call me back. I thought you were dead. I thought some Demon or monster finally punched your ticket. I know how dangerous hunting can be. It's not that hard to figure out when you've lived the life yourself," I said, still standing in the middle of the room seething. Dean's face paled, his mouth moved to speak again but I started again.
"So then I started thinking of all the freaks I have pissed off over the years and if they went after you because of me, so I called James. And he wasn't answering either..." I trailed off, as soon as James name left my mouth all the anger bottled up in my chest was extinguished by a cold wave of grief. And I felt a few tears start to fall down my face.
The motel door flung open and I flinched, reaching behind my back for my pistol as Sam charged in. "Sam wait!" Dean commanded, taking a protective step towards me, keeping his eyes fixed on his brother with his hands up in the air. I had never heard Dean speak that way before, It reminded me of how James could get when he was drunk. The kind of tone used to strike instant fear. I kept my back to Sam and listened, his feet shifted and he let out a frustrated sigh.
YOU ARE READING
Grimm Wood
Fanfiction*on going edits* Dean mumbled into his whiskey glass before throwing back the dark liquor. It nipped at his tongue and sterilizing his throat from all the lies. Sam quietly studied his brother, watching him poured another finger or two of whiskey...
