Connect The Dots (A Supernatural Fanfiction)

Girl Don't Go Away Mad

**Yay! Finally passed writer's block :3 This story makes me so happy. I love it. This is told in Isabella's POV, 7 years after the incident.**

I rolled over in my bed, facing the double doors with glass windows that lead onto the patio. It was still nighttime, but I could light a lantern. Quietly standing up, I glanced over my shoulder to find my boyfriend, Garrett, still fast asleep. Grabbing my leather jacket, I tossed it over my bare shoulders, not bothering to thread my arms through the sleeves. Tiptoeing across the creaky wooden flooring of my second level patio, I used my hands to help balance myself as I brought both legs over the railing, allowing them to swing as I sat.

Nearly every fiber of my being craved for moments like this. Silence, serenity, straight and pure peace. However, knowing the things that I did, and the stuff I'd seen, my mind knew it was impossible. Actually putting on my jacket, I reached a slender hand into the right side pocket, pulling out a lighter. Reaching into the left breast pocket, I drew out a stray cigarette. Flicking the lighter until the end of the cig caught, I stared out into the thicket of woods that my house was placed in.

As the night waned on, smoke twirled upwards from my cigarette, disappearing into the crisp air the higher it reached. Thunder rumbled a few times, but no rain fell. Soon, the morning birds began to sing and dew dotted the leaves of pines and grass in myfront yard. As I poked a few fingers into my breast pocket for another cigarette to smoke, I found it empty. I sighed, deciding to just enjoy the rest of the rising sun. Walking over to the futon mattress Garrett and I had thrown onto a patio swing, the 2 doors opened, revealing a newly awakened Garrett.

"Izzy, did you do it again?" He groggily asked, rubbing his eyes.

"Do what? And how many times do I have to tell you, Garrett? Don't call me that." I scoffed, walking back inside the bedroom with him trailing behind.

"Fine, Isabella. You can't keep skipping out on sleep like this. Especially after a hunt." I turned to Garrett, who was reaching for clothes from the dresser.

"What? It was just a vamp nest and a skinwalker in one week. No big deal." I scoffed, heading downstairs.

Waltzing into the aged kitchen, my eyes browsed through 6 or so boxes of stale cereal, before shutting the cupboard door and tossing open the fridge. Garrett came down shortly thereafter, fully dressed except for fixing his hair.

"What're you all dressed up for?" I asked, even though he was rather casual.

"Did you forget? We have a meeting with Bobby today. He says there's a potential case a couple states over." Garrett dug in his jeans pocket for the keys to our royal blue, 1970's Trans Am.

"Well shit..." I muttered, realizing I was still in my pajamas.

"I'll go fire up the car. You get dressed." He laughed at me, ruffling my hair.

Bobby was a very close friend of ours. I'd met him after a Windigo came after me while I was travelling away from home, quite a few counties over. He'd taken me in, and shown me the ways of hunting. I met Garrett after his parents were killed by a demon outbreak in Saint Paul, Minnesota. I ran back upstairs, shuffling through the bedroom in an attempt to find a semi-decent outfit. Throwing on a CBGB shirt, black skinnies, Chuck Taylor's, and some maroon/black flannel, I snagged my phone and ran downstairs. The last thing I grabbed, was the laptop bag.

The ride to Bobby's house took us about 45 minutes, even on zero-traffic backroads. Once we rounded the last corner to his driveway, a black Chevy Impala was exiting. I couldn't get a good glimpse of the driver, but I could somewhat make out a passenger as well. Garrett paid them no mind, and instead continued to pull into Bobby's driveway. Once we got out of the car, I heard what must've been that car's engine revving in the distance. I walked up, knocking on the front door. An older, scruffy-facial-haired man answered, looking as us like we'd risen from the dead.