Without A Trace >> Dean Winchester

08 | Einstein Got A Hair Rebond

"You don't stop being a soldier because you got wounded in a battle."
-Dean Winchester

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Chapter 08 | Einstein Got A Hair Rebond

"I'M GOING TO fix us some grub!"

They take their eyes away from the lore books they've sticked their nose in for hours.

"You can cook?" Sam peers his head from the piles of books.

"Good, I'm just about to get sick from all the fast foods and take-outs already." Dean says in a snarky tone.

"Even pie?" Sam asks.

Dean shoots Sam a look, a look that made Sam instantly shut up. Needless to say, Dean had a thing for giving people glares. Sam raises both his hands up, mimicking surrender.

I end up agreeing to live with them, I'm sure it's gonna be one hell of a journey. Well, I agreed, mostly because dad and John knew each other, so that's a bonus point right? They were like brothers. Although never told me about John's sons, John only mentioned their names to me once. Aside from that, he was a very kept to himself man. Turns out Dean and Sam got my stuff back at the motel and brought it back here in the bunker this morning while I was still asleep. All my stuff; including my clothes and guitar that I absolutely cannot afford to lose. It was actually sweet of them to think about bringing my stuff over. Dean laughed at me, and I quote, "never imagined a hunter to be so passionate about playing the guitar." Nevertheless, I'm not letting his side comment bother me; I'll do what I want to do.

"Pie is an exception, don't you forget that." Dean turns his gaze to me and I laugh. "You guys have such a sibling relationship, I love it."

"Do you have a sibling, Clarissa?" Sam asks, smiling sweetly.

"I used to."

This makes them go quiet.
Dean tosses Sam another kind of look with a frown etched on his face. He whisper shouts, "Dude! Why did you ask that!"

guilt flashes across his face, 'i...I didn't know..'.

Pushing aside the topic, I give a smile to ease the tension for all of us. "I'm an okay cook, just simple dishes. I used to cook for my family."

Sam tilts his head adorably. "Cooking's your passion?"

"No, singing is." I reply.

Dean bursts out laughing, clutching his stomach. A blush creeps up my cheeks as I'm certain he's thinking about that day of the motel. He's just jelous.

His laugh is deep, husky. and sounds like he never true laughed heartily in a span of years. "This girl is hilarious!"

I ignore the heat of my face eating away my pride as I face Sam. "Sam, you should rest. You've already been reading the lore for two hours or so."

Sam once again peers his head away from the stack of books and chuckles, "no can do, Clarissa. Gotta sharpen my hunting knowledge everyday."

"By forcing yourself to stick your nose into those dusty books for hours? Sorry, Sammy. But that can't happen on my watch. Are you even sleeping well? You look like you're going to catch a cold." I push away the books away from Sam's reach and he looks at me confused. In exchange, I give him a teasing look. "How about some of my tomato rice soup? Or do you need me to sing a lullaby for you to catch some snooze? ah—wait, no, I'll sing 'Hey, Jude'."

Dean's laughter in the background abruptly stops and Sam's face fell serious. They looked like they were both in deep thought. I glanced at Dean, who's eyes suddenly, and quite oddly, had a far away look.

I gulp, choosing my words carefully. "Uhm, Did I say something wrong?"

Sam shakes his head profusely, but he's at a loss of words.

Dean speaks up. "Mom used to make us tomato rice soup when we were sick. And instead of a lullaby, she would sing 'hey Jude', because it is— no; was, her favourite Beatles song."

I fell silent. He sounds like he's trying to say it like he's said it a hundred times before, but his voice cracks midway. He shrugs it off, trying to sound nonchalant but I think it's his defensive mechanism.

My stomach does some turns. What was one supposed to say in times like this? I barely think words of comfort could do any change to the pain and grief the Winchester brothers must be feeling.

I held out my shaky arms and gave them a small smile, "group hug?"

If I weren't me, I'd slap myself. I think I'd use a brick for better effects. No, wait—a dumbbell.

They look at me like I told them Einstein got a hair rebond, but after a while, they must've realised I was offering them a hug because they both stood up and awkwardly embraced me. Sam let out a nervous chuckle, whilst Dean kept silent.

"I'm not playing Dr. Phil or anything, but," I croak out, "I'm sure she's very proud of you both."

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