Something Wicked This Way Comes (Supernatural Fanfiction)

Chapter 11

I woke up before Bobby and the brothers. The book on my lap was spralled out on the floor, where it must have fallen while I slept. I looked around at the unfamiliar house.

The living room is filled with bookcases, mostly with books about monsters and demons. More books are stacked on the floor, and papers are pinned to the walls between the windows. The dark red wallpaper has a few paintings. Bobby's desk is in front of the living room fireplace and a lamp is attached to the desk. On another wall, there is a large wooden staircase leading to the second floor, a hall closet, and the kitchen. I get up  to explore the old kitchen.

The kitchen has a table, white cabinets and cupboards. It has green patterned wall paper, and white shuttered windows. There is a small, 1960's era white refrigerator and a matching stove. Another desk and bookcase are in the kitchen. Bobby has a wall of five or more cordless phones in the kitchen, each of them labeled with a different government agency and alias.

Woah I thought. Bobby must be the one that tells the suspicious cops that Sam and Dean are really cops. Bobby must live a tough life. I roll my eyes.

I walked back into the living room, to see Dean leaning against one wall. I jumped without any sort of shame. "Oh my god, Dean! Don't... do that!" I tell him angrily, but I keep my voice down not to wake the others. I gritted my teeth to stop myself from swearing at him.

"Here." He tossed me a necklace, which caught me by surprise and almost dropped it. "Its the anti-demon possession symbol. Sam and I have it as tattoos, which I advise you to do, too. Bobby still asleep?"

"I guess. I haven't seen him." I replied, giving Dean a questioning look. He shrugged it off with a shake of his head. I pull the necklace over my head and tuck it under my shirt.

"Good. We'll begin your training." Dean walked out the door and I followed him out of curiosity. He walked back to an area that wasn't covered in so many cars and stopped. "Throwing knifes or gun?"

"Gun. My dad took me hunting once when I was younger, so I already know the basics of a rifle." I informed him. He shot me a double glance, clearly startled.

"Hunting?" Dean repeated in disbelief. I rolled my eyes and shrugged mockingly.

"Yeah, Dean. Like deer or bear." I said, the sarcasm practically dripping from my voice, pointing out that I wasn't raised like my childhood was boot camp, learning about the supernatural along the way like him.

"True. Okay, a hand gun is like a rifle, you still have the safety and... that's it. Here. Try to hit the target on that car." Dean pointed and extended the guns barrel towards me to grab. I take the gun and hit the safety. I extend my arms, one hand on the gun, one to steady the gun, and shot. My ears ring from my three rapid gunshots. Dean walked over to the target and pulled it from the car.

"Not bad. Two out of the three shots hit the middle and the other was about a half inch off."

"Pretty good. Especially since I haven't shot a gun since I was seven." I muttered loud enough that Dean could hear me. He looked down at the bullet holes like he was sizing them up.

"Your dad let you shoot a gun when you were seven?" He repeated skeptically. I nodded nonchalantly.

"Yeah. He didn't take me with him again after I scared off the deer and nearly shot him." I frowned. I swear I didn't mean to, but he never listened. It was all 'Mia, I could've died' and 'Mia, you have to be careful.' I was never good enough for him.

"What?" He asked incredulously. I handed him back the gun and gave him a small shrug. Dean smiles and shakes his head. "You surprise me sometimes, Mia."

"I know. I always surprise people. Though usually, it's myself." I told him. Dean started to laugh again, throwing his head back. He ruffled my hair and I hissed at him - he, of course, burst out laughing again. So naturally, I punched him as hard as I could. He groaned, rubbing it slightly, then moved it around to stretch out the tightness. "Good. I hope it hurt."

"This can be moved into our next training session. Self defense." He grinned challengengly. I agreed, albeit somewhat reluctant. I walked over to Dean.

I raised my fists, and hesitated. "I don't want to hurt you now."

"I know. Just... take a swing at me." He told me, smirking and lowering his fists. I shrug and punch Dean on the mouth. He raised his fists again and punched me hard. I swing at him again but he grabs my hand and stops me. "What do you do now?" Dean said to me. I kick him and he cringes over. Oops. I kicked him a bit higher then I meant to. Sorry! I grab his head in my hands and bring my knee up. He falls to the ground, then coughed.

"You okay? Still alive?" I help him up. He cupped his bloody nose, tilting his head back. I shook my hands a bit;  they were bruised, bloody, and shaking.

"Damn it. I won't get on your bad side." Dean joked. I smiled as I put my hand on his cheek. He wasn't as doubled over as he was before but he still wasn't standing straight again. I put my arm around him as he does the same.

"You beat the crap out of him." Sam said from behind me, neither of us hearing him walk up towards us. Dean looks at him gratefully. I glance behind me. Sam was a good five yards away from us and could still see his cut lip. He pulled away from me after planting a kiss on the crown of my head.

"You... teach... I'm going... inside." Dean started to walk - more like limp - away towards the house.

"What did you do?" Sam asked me. I just shrugged. Sam laughed loudly, throwing his head back like his brother.

"Well, I think I should have told him that I've gotten into fights before. I mean, I gave a kid a bloody nose in second grade." I beamed. "Maybe I was meant to hunt. Sure, I don't know much about monsters, but I can fight. I can shoot a gun with some accuracy, make Dean limp. I think I can survive like this."

"Yeah. Yeah, I think so, too." He walked closer to ruffle my hair. I shoved him away, both of us laughing now. Sam picked up a few of the throwing knives and gave them to me. "So, just think of it as a dart, okay?"

I exhaled slowly, attempting to take all of my attention at the target. I flung one of the knives, and winced as it landed well above the target, two cars above the one where it was suppose to be. I sighed, and threw the next one. It dug into the ground at the base of the car. I tossed the other one without thinking, feeling unsuccessful. It actually hit the target.

"Awesome. I suck at this." I mutter, crossing my arms with a slight pout. I saw an emotion other than the usual flash through Sam's face, but it was too quick to read.

"No, no, no. Not at all. Think about how much better you got within a few knives. Your first one was way too high, and your last one hit the target. You'll get it." Sam said encouragingly. When he went to retreave the knives, I couldn't help but laugh. He had to jump three times before he could snatch up the too high miss. He glared at me playfully.

"Yeah, yeah. Can I take a break? My hands kinda hurt." I ask, and Sam nodded. He smiles before running over and throwing me over his shoulder in retaliation. "Sam! Let me down!" I said half heartedly, kicking my legs. We both started laughing.

A few feet before the door, Sam puts me down. I think my face is bright red from being upside down, and I feel like I'm dizzy, but not enough that I'll walk around like I'm drunk. We walk into Bobby's house with smiles on our face.