Maddison Winchester: Journal 7 {Supernatural} (Editing)

Time After Time

We found ourselves an abandoned house and set up shop for a few days to rest and look for a new hunt. Dean was sitting at the table, working on his laptop, and drinking whiskey. I was sitting on the couch, scrolling through the texts I had sent Nate over the past weeks to see if there was anything else I could say to get him to respond.

"You're driving yourself crazy doing that, you know," Dean said as he sipped his whiskey.

I shut my phone and dropped it in my lap, "Oh yeah, what's that?"

"Going through messages to Nate," Dean said.

I rolled my eyes, "Well, when you stop looking at the same Dick Roman articles over and over again, we can talk," I smirked at him when he gave me a look.

Sam's phone started ringing, and he sat up with a groan and glared at us a look.

Dean shook his head, "Don't give us that dirty-diaper look. We ain't calling you."

Sam sighed and grabbed his phone, "Hello?" (...) "The sheriff? Uh..." He turned the lamp next to his bed on, "Yeah. Uh, I mean, uh—" (...) "Okay, um, so, uh, what's up with the body?" (...) He nodded, "Yeah, yeah, that's, that's um... That's our kind of number. Hey, question... How does a sheriff in Sioux Falls get wind of a case in Ohio?" (...) "Well, we'll look into it. Thanks, Sheriff." (...) "Yeah." He clicked his phone off, "That was Sheriff Mills. She caught us one."

"Oh, I feel bad. We didn't get her anything," Dean said sarcastically.

Sam sighed, "I can't believe I'm about to say this, but I hope you're watching cartoon smut, 'cause reading Dick Roman crap over and over again is just self-punishment."

I scoffed, "Funny you would say that."

Dean shot me a look to stop talking and then turned his attention back to Sam, "It's called anime, and it's an art form," He rolled his eyes and closed the laptop.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

We drove to Canton, Ohio. Apparently, Sheriff Mills told Sam that two bodies had turned up. Both of them had been mummified, but both victims had turned up missing only weeks before. So, we found an abandoned house in a neighborhood to set up shop. Shingles and siding were falling off, and some windows were broken and boarded up.

"Well, this looks nice," Dean smiled at us after he parked the car, "Check around back?"

He drove around to the back of the house and parked. Then the three of us snuck in and checked around the different rooms.

Dean carried a table into what was probably a living room at one point, and Sam brought in a chair.

Sam sighed, "Well, there's a... Semi-functioning bathroom and one un-rancid bedroom."

"Define semi-functioning, and do not use the words 'hole in the floor,'" Dean said.

Sam gave him a look and held his hands out for Rock, Paper, Scissors.

I raised my hand, "I'm staying in the room with whoever wins. Just letting you know."

Dean raised his eyebrows, "So, we do all the work, and you reap the benefits?"

I nodded, "Yup."

Dean shrugged and then joined Rock, Paper, Scissors.

About ten minutes later, Sam and I were setting up our bedrolls in the "nice" bedroom.

Dean walked to our room with his bag, pouting, "How does paper beat a rock anyway? It's stupid." I laughed, and he looked at me, "And how is it fair that you get to just pick to go with the winner?"