My Winchester

When it Rains

I woke up alone in my bed. Not that I was expecting anybody to be in my room, it was just that I usually woke up with Dean on the couch in his room. I looked down at the sketchbook that I had fallen asleep holding. Dean's chiseled features were finished. I flipped back to the beginning of the book, skipping over the drawings of my family.

Most of what I drew consisted of tattoo like things: insects, quotes, hearts, skulls, you name it. Lately though, I liked drawing people. I had drawn Cas several times, along with Sam. This was my only one of Dean though; I wanted it to be perfect.

I just hope he will let me go. I can't live like this, knowing I'm all alone.

With a sigh, I climb out of bed and get dressed for the day. I run a brush through my hair and let it fall in it's natural waves. Walking into the kitchen, I smell pancakes.

"Pancakes!" I exclaim, running over to Sam standing in front of the stove. He chuckles and hands me a plate filled with the delicious things. I take a seat across from Dean in the library.

"There's a Mello Yello in the fridge," Dean states, gesturing towards the kitchen. My eyes widen before rushing into the kitchen, only for Sam to hand me the drink as soon as I walk in. I cheerfully go back to the table, feeling better than I had in days.

"You are cheerful," Castiel suddenly says from behind me. I jump up, knocking over my chair. "Jesus, Cas!" I exclaim. The boys chuckle behind me.

"I think I found a case you should look into," Cas states, getting straight to business.

"What kind of case?" Sam asks.

"Demons," Castiel replies. I tense up, pausing with my fork halfway in my mouth. I try to recover quickly, not noticing Sammy and Castiel moving over, having more of a private conversation.

"Carmen, hey," Dean says, waving his hand in front of my face. I look up, giving him a closed mouth smile. "I was just saying that you don't have to go, if you don't want to."

"No, no," I reply quickly. "Why wouldn't I want to slay a few of Crowley's monkeys?" I ask, rage dripping from my words. It was scary, hearing the vengeance in my own voice. Now I understood the look Dean got every time we worked a case, or how deep his voice got when he was pissed.

"Okay, well. Sammy took Baby out for food last night and had some problems. I think she needs a new filter. Ya' want to give me a hand?" Dean asks, holding up a bag of motor parts. I nod and carry my dishes into the kitchen.

I meet Dean in the garage. He's bent over the hood when I come in. "Look who finally showed up," Dean hollers before I get to the car, purposely wiggling his ass in front of me.

I roll my eyes at him before feeling the bolts around the filter to get the correct size socket. "There's no way you know what size that is just by feeling it," Dean mutters, crossing his arms.

"You wanna bet? My dad taught me everything I know," I reply. I pull away from the car and waltz over to the tool box. I grab a 3/8 socket and head back over to the car. I take off all of the screws no problem.

"That's not fair," Dean states, coming forward to replace the filter. I know that he must have wanted to talk about something. Changing the filter was not a very big job.

"Alright, start her up," Dean says, tightening the last bolt back in place.

I climb behind the steering wheel and turn the key, hearing the engine purr to life. "That sounds a lot better, but there's still something goin' on with her," Dean says. I nod, noting the strange noise coming from the car.

We hear a door slam behind us and turn to see Sam entering the garage. "We should probably leave."

Dean and I both nod. I cut off the car and go back into the bunker to grab my bag. You learn to always have a bag packed as a hunter.