My Winchester

Sympathy at its Finest

"This seat taken, babe?" A deep, familiar voice says behind me. I tighten up and turn to see his face fall as he recognizes me. "Fuck," he grumbles and sits down. I feel anger course through my veins. Why didn't I go to a different bar?

"Look, I'm sorry," Dean mutters.

"Oh, yeah. I feel so much better," I snap back. He glares at me, but there's no menace behind it.

We sit in silence for a long time. "Give this girl another. Your top shelf," Dean says as the bartender walks by. I take the drink without complaining, turning up the shot glass and savoring the burning sensation as the strong whiskey slides down my throat.

"Me and Sammy have been split up a few times, and it wasn't a ballpark," Dean tells me. "But even though a many a number of things could have happened, I had this... feeling. Like I knew he wasn't dead. Or at least, not yet."

I looked over at him as I took in his words. I thought about my parents for a moment and I knew what he was talking about.

"All we have to do is find them," Dean said then.

I waved the bartender for another. "Aren't you a little young to be drinking? How'd you get in her anyways?" He asks me.

"Fake ID, fake phone number, fake smile," I told him, my words slurring slightly. He chuckled.

"All this demon nonsense is crazy," I mumble. "There's no way all of this is real." I run my hand over my face tiredly. "I was almost hoping you had done it."

"Why?"

"Just to have answers. Get revenge or something, I don't know. It's not like I would have shot you. How would you even shoot a person?" I shake my head. "You really didn't kill that girl, did you?"

"Nope," he shook his head. "It was-uh- another creature." I laughed. Of course it was.

***

Dean woke up with a killer headache and his arms wrapped around something warm. Opening his eyes, he winced when he recognized the girl. Carmen laid against his chest, her dark hair sprawled out over her naked shoulders. He squeezed the bridge of his nose, trying to remember the night before. After a while, both of them got shitfaced drunk. He remembered coming back to the motel, leading her to the door, bringing her inside. Then, did he kiss her? Or she kissed him? He couldn't remember and knew that Carmen probably wouldn't either.

He slipped out of bed and dressed as quietly as he could. He scribbled on the motel paper, "Had a great time, babe. Call me sometime." Folding it and laying it on the bed, he left to get another room. Hopefully, she would think she hooked up with a random guy.

Dean laid on the bed in the new motel room, his head pounding with a hangover. He tried to fall back asleep, but all he could think about was that little girl.

Why did he leave town early? He knew deep down that something was there. Hell, not every killer leaves sulfur behind. Just because he was tired and angry at himself for not finding clues didn't mean that he should have left.

He could have stopped it. If they had just stayed in town for a little while longer..

***

"Hey, Dean, where are you?" I whisper into the phone, my head pounding.

"Hey, drunkie! Heard you got some last night," Dean makes fun of me.

"Shut up," I tell him. My head spins, trying to remember who I brought home last night. I shake my head, feeling like I had some weird dream about Dean or something.

"I'm headed back," Dean says rather loudly before hanging up.

I lay the phone on the bed right before my stomach lurches. I rush to the bathroom just in time.

When I came back out, Dean was there, a glass of water, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a bottle of advil on the table in front of him. "This stuff is for you. I figured you'd need it," he tells me. I slump down into the chair across from him and open the pills.

"If you want, we can go get some food here in a bit. Don't want to eat much besides some eggs or maybe pancakes, though."

"I love pancakes," I comment before I chase a pill with some water. I grab the toothbrush and head back to the bathroom, happy to get the foul taste out of my mouth.

I washed my face and threw my hair up in a bun. I threw some makeup on my face to cover up the dark circles before I dressed in a grey t-shirt and jeans. We left a few minutes later, heading for the diner down the street. I felt weird being around Dean. I was still incredibly mad, but it was if all of my emotions had drained away with the alcohol. 

"What'll you have?" the perky waitress asked us as we sat down. 

"I'll take a plate of eggs, some sausage, a biscuit and some gravy. Thanks," Dean told her politely.

"How do you take your eggs?" She asked him, her tone changing now that she had seen those green eyes. "Scrambled," Dean replied. It seemed like a simple enough word, but apparently he had some trouble with it. Or no, was that flirting? He was flirting with eggs?

"And I'll take a order of hotcakes. Extra butter," I told her with a smile. She walked away with our orders after a wink at Dean. 

"Scrambled? Really?" I raise my eyebrows at him. He's more of a joke then I thought. 

"Shut up," he replied.

I sighed and looked out the window. "Have you heard from Sam?"

"No, but he'll call if he finds anything major," Dean reassured.

It's so hard to believe that my sister is gone. I close my eyes momentarily, seeing her bedroom again. The blood everywhere, God. It was horrible.

"Carmen?" Dean interrupted my thoughts.

"Sorry," I mumble, wiping away the tears that were forming. He looked down at the table. "There's something you should know," he says.

"I'm scared to ask," I sniffle. 

"When we told you the story, we didn't exactly tell you everything," Dean says. A frown washes over my face. "See, we didn't really just decide to leave town. We hadn't found anything on the case since the Murdaws were murdered, and-uhm," he mutters. 

The waitress brought our food to us. I kept my eyes trained on Dean.

He shifted uncomfortably under my stare. "I was tired of the crappy bars and was mad that I couldn't find anything. I thought there was only one demon in town, but-"

"So you're saying that if you hadn't have left, then my family would still be alive right now?" I asked him. He nodded.

I closed my eyes shut as tears welled up in them. I closed my hands into fists and tried to slow my breathing. 

"Carmen," Dean tried to begin. I simply shook my head. After a few minutes, I calmed down enough to choke down half of my food. When I was finished, I simply stood and walked towards the counter. I walked up the waitress that took our order. "Hey, I'm sorry to bother you, but I just wanted to tell you that the guy over there said you were an ugly bitch. I'd tell him off if I was you," I told her before walking out the door.

Looking back, I saw the waitress standing in front of a drenched Dean, yelling at him with a tea pitcher in her hand.