Blood Ties: The Winchester Legacy

Chapter Three - Him

I get to the bathroom and shut the door and lock it, trying to control my breathing but it's not working. Then, I rush over to the sink and splash cold water in my face. I look up at myself in the mirror. 

    What have I done? 

    I said too much.

    Way too much.

They're going to take over my case or use this information against me.

I splash more cold water in my face before turning the water off. I take a step back and close my eyes before taking five deep breaths. That's something my mom taught me. And in this line of work, knowing how to control your breathing is essential. Now that I'm calm, I can think a little more clearly. I need to leave as soon as possible.

These people... I don't get it.

How did they get me to give so much information so easily? What the hell sort of manipulation tactic is it? I don't like that I don't get it. That makes them dangerous. Either way, I need to get away from them. I shake my head, hating myself for my carelessness as I walk back to the bedroom and lock the door before grabbing my bag and taking out my knife and my gun.

I place the gun under my pillow and the knife beside it on the sheet. The knife was once my mothers. It, like her necklace, has her initials on it. I took it from her bedside table after I saw them take her and hid it in my bedroom.

I lay back on the bed, on top of the covers. Never sleep under the covers. it takes too long to get out of bed if something goes wrong. Much like changing into pajamas. They aren't practical if you need to get out quickly.

The most I do is kick off my boots as I grab my phone and set an alarm for four a.m because I'd like to be there, chopping some heads off by six-thirty. Which means, in the unlikely scenario that I actually get to sleep, I could get up to eight hours.

I know I won't get anywhere near that amount. I haven't slept for more than four hours at a time in God knows how long. But, resting with the light off while planning my attack for tomorrow sounds wonderful.

I turn off the light and lay back down on the bed, noticing how surprisingly comfortable it still is. Much better than those gross motel beds. Not that I had the luxury of sleeping in those often. I usually had to win at least three rounds of Pool before getting that.

I turn on my side, facing the knife that's beside the pillow as I reach underneath it and grab a hold of my gun. To anyone else, it would just look like I'm sleeping.

If it wasn't already obvious, I have a little issue with paranoia.

After about an hour of planning for tomorrow's hunt, I end up dozing off.

                                   ****

Mom and I are in the kitchen making cupcakes. Mom's favorite with purple icing. She moves her long brown hair over her shoulder before looking at me. 

    "What's wrong, hon?"

I look up at her. 

Even with the stepstool under my feet she's still taller than me. 

    "I wish I had hair like yours.'' I say with a frown. 

Mom laughs. I wish I had her smile and her laugh too. My mom is the most beautiful person in the entire world. I wish I looked just like her. She looks down at me, still smiling. 

    "You have perfect hair for you, my dear." She says, running her fingers through my shoulder-length dirty blonde hair. 

    "But why doesn't it look like yours?" I ask.