Supernatural... But Better (Vol. I)

Chapter Nine

I woke up to screaming.

The nightmare was worse that night. I could see it happen... all of it, and hear it, too. It was as if it was actually happening, all over again, right in front of me.

But the second I opened my eyes, they left me, only the echoes of their screams remaining. It was just me, breathing heavily, the faint light of the very, very early morning just beginning to seep through the blinds.

Suddenly, there was a knock at my door. I pulled the covers back slowly, intensely unnerved, and silently reached for the gun under my pillow. Rising from my bed, I lifted it as I walked towards the door. The knock came again.

"Annabeth? Are you awake?"

I sighed as I recognized the voice, lowering my weapon and opening the door. "Dean, I swear to God, I was this close to shooting you."

He smirked. "Yeah, Sam gets pretty jumpy after a nightmare, too. I'm assuming that's why you're up. Anyways, grab your stuff. The minute it gets light out, we're getting on the road again, and since we're awake, might as well just come over to our room to wait."

I inhaled deeply. "Give me five minutes."

Closing the door, I went into the bathroom, going through the checklist again. Then, I packed all of my stuff up again, put it in my bag, and walked out of the room.

"Let's go," I told Dean.

We walked back to his room, and the first thing I noticed when he opened that door was that Sam was still in bed, probably asleep.

The second thing I noticed, as I walked in, was that he was shirtless.

I looked at Dean, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you said we were all awake."

He shook his head. "Actually, I said we were awake, meaning you and me."

Shaking my head, I set my bag down, putting my hands on my hips. "Okay... why did you intentionally mislead me?"

"Because I'm tired of having to deal with him after his nightmares, so I figured you could, instead," he explained, turning back the way we came in. "I'll get breakfast. Hopefully, you can figure him out before I get back."

And then he was gone.

Grumbling, I got up on his bed, sitting with my legs crossed underneath me. Interlocking my fingers, I rested my elbows on my knees and my chin on my hands, watching Sam. He looked... not necessarily peaceful, but calm. His hair was all messy, laid out over his pillow, one arm draped over his chest, the other curved over his head. His lack of clothing showcased muscles I never realized he had, considering the fact that he'd always been wearing both a flannel and a jacket over his shirt. I wasn't exactly surprised to find the clear evidence of his strength, but I'd never met anyone so... defined.

It left me wondering if Dean was the same way. But he was objectively smaller and skinnier, so I wasn't sure.

Eventually, I got bored of analyzing him, and decided to simply look. My mind was elsewhere, though. I wondered about my future with them, how hunting alongside someone else would feel— I hadn't done it in years, and when I had, it was with a mentor and not someone my own age, at my relative skill level. Or, maybe they weren't at my relative skill level. Maybe they were better than I was, and they'd realize that, and kick me to the curb. I honestly couldn't say. I didn't know their history that well, how long they'd been hunting, what sort of creatures they'd come across. All I really knew was how their mother and Sam's girlfriend had died.

Outside of that... well, they were hot?

Just as the thought popped into my head, Sam moved, prompting me to pay attention again. He'd rolled fully onto his back, and his eyebrows were furrowed, as if he was glaring at someone, but with his eyes closed. The nightmares. I could see the signs on his face, in the way his body tensed, how he suddenly became restless, moving every so often, but just a little. I waited for the climax, for his nightmare to come to fruition. It wasn't a good idea to wake someone up in the middle of one, so I had to wait, even though I wished I could spare him the pain.

A little while later, I wasn't sure how long, Sam jerked awake, his eyes popping open. He was breathing heavily, just like I'd been. I let him come down from that on his own, pulling himself up onto his elbows and pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Are you alright?" I asked quietly, hoping not to startle him, which seemed to mostly work as he looked over at me.

He exhaled loudly. "What are you doing here?" he wondered aloud, his voice thick with sleep.

I shrugged, my eyes tracing down his arms, seeing how tense he still was, as the veins were more visible. "Your brother came and got me, after my own nightmares woke me up. Said he was tired of having to deal with yours, and left, allegedly to get breakfast."

Nodding, he pushed the covers off, draping his legs over the side of the bed so that he was facing me. He rubbed his face with his hand, then ran it through his hair. For having just woken up, in that moment, he seemed so unbelievably tired that I couldn't help but feel bad for him.

"Sam," I called softly, and he looked up, meeting my gaze. "They were worse last night, weren't they? The nightmares?"

He looked like he wanted to deny it, but couldn't.

I looked down at my lap, tucking my hair behind my ear. "Mine were gone for a while. I figured— when they came back a couple nights ago, I figured it must've been because of Bloody Mary. When... when she possessed me and tried to kill me, maybe it triggered something in my mind, brought the nightmares back. Last night was the worst, though. Since before." When he didn't respond, I shrugged, looking over at the door. "But she didn't possess you. I don't know. Maybe it's just a coincidence that it happened for both of us."

"There are no coincidences," Sam disagreed, prompting me to meet his gaze once more. "And I'm fine. It wasn't that bad."

Doubting that he was telling the truth, I climbed off the bed, walking over to stand directly in front of him. He followed me with his eyes, not moving as he watched. Bringing my hand up, I pressed the backs of my fingers against his chest. His skin was warm, but more importantly, his heart was beating very quickly.

"If you were fine, your pulse wouldn't be racing," I countered, pulling back. "You don't have to tell me the truth, but I would prefer it if you didn't lie."

Sam furrowed his brows a little. "What's the difference?"

I sat down on the edge of the other bed, still facing him. "The difference is between not saying anything, and saying something you know isn't true. I'm not so entitled to think you have to tell me anything — at least so long as it's not pertinent, life-or-death information — but I would like to believe the things that you do tell me are true. So, if there's something you don't want to talk about, that's all you have to say."

"I don't want to talk about my nightmares."

I gave him a small smile. "Then we won't talk about them."

"But," he continued, "when you're ready to talk about yours, I'm ready to listen."

My smile fell a bit, but I nodded. "Okay."

Then, I heard the sound of a key in the door, and Dean walked in, holding a bunch of papers, which he plopped down next to me. "There's your death announcement."

I smiled at him, picking them up. "Thank you, Dean. But I thought you were getting breakfast?" I inquired, raising an eyebrow as I scanned the printed out article.

He laughed. "Am I so untrustworthy? It's in the car. The second we're packed and on the road, you get it."

"Wow, incentives," Sam said sarcastically, standing. I couldn't help but watch the way his muscles moved as he walked, the seamless connection. The pure aesthetic of it was eye-catching, not only because of how clearly attractive he was, but the beauty of the human body itself. I'd never known anyone that fit before, never seen anyone that muscular move. I'd never known much of anyone, actually. It was just... interesting to watch, to see how everything all fit together.

My fingers itched with the sudden urge to draw it.

Standing myself, I stretched, raising my arms high above my head. "I'll get my stuff in the car."