Hollowing Souls

How to Win Friends and Influence Monsters

May 7th, 2012

Hammonton, New Jersey

Alex pulled a face at the dark exterior of the foreclosed house. The shutters hung off of the windows, and the glass, while still whole, was riddled with cracks. As she got out of the car, she noted that it didn't seem to sag in any particular spot, but just had an overall appearance of dilapidation. "You've got to be kidding me," she muttered as she followed the Winchesters up the path to the front door. "You know, we've been living in some pretty crappy places recently, but this one might just take the cake."

"Quit your whining," Bobby grumbled from behind her. "We work the case, we get out of town. No one's asking you to get comfortable."

Alex muttered an Enochian curse under her breath as one of the Winchesters fiddled with the lock until the door sprang open. Her feather curled at the musty interior, but she subserviently followed them into the house.

Sparse wooden furniture was strewn throughout, and Alex dropped her bags beside the stairwell. "This place got power?" she asked, pushing her grace into the walls.

"Maybe if you gave us five fucking minutes to look, we could answer that," Dean huffed, and Alex turned to glare him.

A hand came to rest on her shoulder, and Alex pulled her wings tight as she recognized Bobby. "Let them work, girl. Things are tense enough as is without you picking fights. Any of you," he added with a glance towards the Winchesters. "You two get the generator; see if you can get the power working."

The Winchesters nodded, and Sam hurried out to the large white van parked alongside the house while Dean moved past them and down the stairs. Alex picked up the cooler Dean had set down by the floor with a grunt and carried it into the living room, staggering slightly under its weight. She dropped it on the wooden floor and slid it over towards the pile of chairs. "What can I do?" She looked over at Bobby, who was halfway up the stairs with his own bag.

"Just get comfy. And start a fire."

Alex looked over at the sooty fireplace. Wood was already piled up inside, and with a roll of her eyes she snapped her fingers. Her grace flickered out on command, and then fire burst into life.

Bobby raised an eyebrow. "Alright then. Is that snapping necessary?"

The young angel shrugged. "Dramatic flare." She watched as Bobby disappeared up the stairs before lifting the small green cooler up onto the table. She looked around with the shake of her head. The old green wallpaper was peeling off the walls, and the entire place looked as if it hadn't been inhabited for decades. "This is disgusting."

Sam returned and walked over to the basement door. "You strip enough wire?" he yelled, hurrying down. Alex heard Dean mutter out a reply, and then ten seconds later the lights flickered to life.

The two Winchesters returned just as footfalls on the stairs announced the reentry of Bobby Singer. "Well isn't this cozy," Dean muttered, looking down at Sam, who sat down at the table.

"Yeah, well, Motel 6 just ain't leaving the light on anymore."

"Well, I'm taking a page out of Frank Devereaux's bible on this," Bobby sided with Sam. "Everybody's out to get you — paranoia's just plain common sense."

"Weeks, guys. Weeks" Dean tapped the table in frustration. "We've been living with cold showers, cold Hot Pockets, cold fucking everything. I mean, this is the bottom that we're living in. You get that, right?"

Bobby shook his head. "How many big mouths are out there, running card chases like Chet, or hunting us down God knows what ways? No, now's not the time to be laying our bed rolls out on the grid. Not if we can help it."