Maddison Winchester: Journal 7 {Supernatural} (Editing)

How to Win Friends and Influence Monsters

I had been rationing out my demon blood as much as I could, but I was down to the last few sips, and we had been on the run for a while with no demon sightings or visits from Crowley.

Bobby, Nate, Sam, Dean, and I had been basically living in squalor for the past couple of weeks. We slept in an abandoned building, house, or sometimes just in our cars almost every night. Tensions had been running high, we didn't have much to eat, nights were cold, and sleep was pretty limited.

Luckily, we were able to find a house in the middle of the woods, we just wanted to get the electricity running. Sam walked down to the basement with jumper cables to join Dean in front of the fuse box. Nate sat on a long ripped up couch in the "living room," and I walked over and sat next to him. I curled my legs up on the couch and leaned against him, resting my head on his chest.

Nate chuckled, "Dean, is not gonna like this."

I shrugged and closed my eyes, "Yeah, well, I'm freezing and exhausted."

"I know," He kissed my forehead and rubbed my arm.

The lights flicked on as the front door opened, "Well, isn't this cozy," Bobby said as he walked in, closing the door behind him.

"Yeah. Well, Motel 6 just ain't leaving the light on anymore," Sam said as he walked up the stairs.

"Oh, no, no," Dean said as he walked over to us, "This is not happening, let's go," He snapped his fingers, wanting me and Nate to separate.

I waved him away, not even opening my eyes to look at him, "Go away, grumpy."

Dean sighed and walked away, "Yeah, whatever."

"Well, I'm taking a page out of Frank Devereaux's Bible on this," Bobby said, "Everybody's out to get you... Paranoia is just plain common sense."

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

"How could we not? We've all been with you the whole time," I said, still with my eyes closed.

"How many big mouths are out there, running card traces, like Chet, or hunting us down god knows what ways?" Bobby asked, "No, now's not the time to be laying our bedrolls out on the grid. Not if we can help it."

The whir of the power suddenly went out, and I opened my eyes to see that the lights were off, "Oh, come on."

Sam flicked on a battery-powered lantern we had with us.

"That's just great," Dean snapped, "This is stupid. Our quality of life is crap," He walked over with the beer cooler and set it next to the couch, "We got Purgatory's least wanted everywhere, and we're on our third 'The World's Screwed' issue in, what, three years?" He asked and sat down, "We've steered the bus away from the cliff twice already."

"Someone's got to do it," Sam said.

"What if the bus wants to go over the cliff?" Dean asked as he pulled a beer out of the cooler.

"You think the world wants to end?" Sam asked.

"I think that if we didn't take its belt and all its pens away each year that, yeah, the whole enchilada woulda offed itself already," Dean said.

"Stop trying to wrestle with the big picture, son," Bobby said, "You're gonna hurt your head."

Dean kicked his boots off and propped his legs up on mine. I grunted as I shoved his legs off of me and put mine on top of his. We glared at each other for a moment, then we settled onto the couch, and I closed my eyes again.