Daughter of the Legend: Soul on Fire (#Wattys2018)

Chapter Six: Remember

"So Nevada, huh?" I ask Bentley as we pull away from a gas station in Nebraska. Cassidy was sleeping against the passenger window. We had traded about 20 miles back when she had started complaining about her back and that she wanted to sleep...though her words weren't exactly that kind and sweet.

"Yeah, nothing super fun or flashy, just some low-key town," He shrugs, "Didn't you used to live there?" I laugh bitterly.

"God, do you know how weird it is too think about that?" I shake my head, brushing off the lingering dread that seems to creep up on me every time I think of what used to be "home."

"Yeah,  anywhere but Bobby's just seems like another lousy motel stop."

"Yeah." I think about the honesty of that sentence. "Do you think other hunters have places like Bobby's? A "home" of some sort?"

"Well there are roadhouses all over the country, and I'm pretty sure everyone has at least one safe house."

"Road houses?" He laughs slightly at my question.

"Right, I forget you've only been hunting a year and haven't been out around the "hunter community," all that much. A roadhouse is like a bigger version of Bobby's. A place for hunters to find a place to sleep with only one eye open, relax, and swap war stories." He looks over at me, "They're actually pretty cool. People drive by'em all the time."

"Really?"

"Yeah, you know those "biker joints" you pass when you're driving out through back roads?"

"Yeah?"

"Those are usually roadhouses. If you walked into one, all you'd have to look for was the flannel, baseball caps, and beers." He teased, pulling on the sleeve of my flannel overshirt.

"No way," I laughed, "You can find that at any bar in the country."

"I kid you not! Flannel, it's like the Hunter's Bat symbol." He states with a crooked grin. "I'll take you to one when you're old enough."

"I'm old enough!"

"Sure you are, minor." I punch him in the arm. From what I understood, being my age was being an adult in this line of business. Not many people live to be Bobby's age in our work. "Hey watch it! You'll make me crash." Bentley replies, fake swerving a little bit across the empty road. "And besides, you're Dean Winchester's daughter. You have to play by a different set of rules."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I ask, eyebrow raised in defensive curiosity.

"It means that since you went MIA  last Christmas, a lot of people and things know about you. Making you a hot topic of conversation. Plus, Dean would kill me and bring me back, like 30 times, if I took you into a roadhouse. You Winchesters can keep your "dying and surviving" to yourselves." I grinned at the end comment, but I was still curious about my "set of rules", as Bentley called them. Note to self: Talk to Dean about roadhouses.

"Hey get some sleep, you're driving through Wyoming."

"Yeah, yeah, sleep is for the weak." I reply.

"Then be weak this one time in your whole existence and sleep." He retorts. I giggle a little bit as I rest me head on his shoulder, closing my eyes.

It felt like I had shut my eyes for a fragile moment when I felt someone shaking me awake. I opened a tired eye and looked around groggily. Sun was shining off the glittering surface of a lake. Alarmed, I sat up and looked around. I wasn't in Bentley's truck anymore, instead I was on a checkered blanket, sitting a few yards from what looked like Lake Tahoe in Nevada.