Demon Blood: A Supernatural Fanfiction

Chapter 5: Similarities and Differences

Mallory led the boys up the garage porch stairs and into the mudroom, where she motioned for them to take their shoes off. “My parents went away for a two-month-long vacation to Europe. They won’t be back for another month. You can stay here if you want.” She slipped into the bathroom and grabbed a towel, wetting it and wiping her feet. “This is what happens when you go outside without shoes. S’why I never do.”

Sam and Dean just stood there, unsure of what to do.

“Well, what are you waiting for? You’re allowed to go in, you know.” Mallory kicked her dirty foot in the direction of the hallway. “It’s not like you need me to give you directions to the chairs. You know where they are. I’ll be there in a moment.” they headed toward the living room.

“Do you want a beverage? Tea, coffee, soda?” Mallory called from behind the refrigerator door. There was no response. She laughed. “Beer, then?” she took two cans out of the fridge and tossed them to Sam and Dean, producing a can of dark cherry soda for herself. “You definitely seem like the beer type.” She stuck her iPod into the speaker and turned on a pure country song by a sad-sounding woman. Dean made a face.

Mallory grinned evilly at him. “My house, my music.” she said, but she changed the song to an odd-sounding, well, Dean wasn’t sure what genre it was. It sounded like some sort of breathy rock/pop mix. Seeing his raised eyebrows, she explained, “Florence and the Machine. Apparently the genre is ‘Alternative’. You like it?”

“It’s… interesting.” Dean shrugged, popping the tab on his beer. “I’m hungry. You got any burgers?”

“Dean!” Sam scolded, glaring at his rudeness. Turning back to Mallory, he said, “Sorry; he’s kind of rude sometimes.” He punctuated these last two words by shouldering Dean, missing and accidentally hitting Dean’s neck. Mallory laughed again and opened the fridge door, taking out a Tupperware container of leftover casserole and placing it on the island. “Ground beef, cheddar cheese, peas, red onions, and croutons. Satisfactory?”

“Oh yeah.” Dean replied, eyeing the meat hungrily. A spoon, three plates, and three forks were produced by Mallory and she started scooping casserole onto a plate. She stopped when she realized that Sam was looking extremely uncomfortable. “What’s wrong? You a vegetarian? I got leftover salad too, if you want.”

“It’s not that.” He muttered. “How are we even here? I mean, we live in the car and eat in diners across the country. We’ve never really had a set place to live; unless you count the house that I lived in for about half a year.” Dean looked a bit hurt at that remark. “Sorry,” Sam quickly apologized. “But it’s the truth. This all just feels so… strange.” Mallory set down the spoon she was holding and put her hand on top of Sam’s.

“Well, I got a feeling that this hunt is gonna take a while. You’re going to have a while to get used to this feeling. There’s no point on spending money on a motel when I’ve got some beds right here. You can stay here for as long as you want.” She said softly, then returned to the casserole. “Besides, it beats having to go to a diner for food. Home-cooked is much better.”

Mallory had to marvel at their comfort at moving around all the time. Stick her in a car for more than four hours straight and she started to get extremely antsy and bored. And sleeping in a car? Nope. Reading? Nope. As much as she liked road trips, there was a limit to how long she could stay on the road for. Although, they were probably used to it, having grown up like that, however they had grown up.

“This is the TV room,” Mallory explained, hopping up two small stairs and showing a bright, spacious room with a large couch on one end and a large television on the other. Right in the middle was a coffee table with a folder spilling sheet music and on a shelf on the side of the room lay a beautiful maple violin and its bow. There was a towering bookshelf on the wall opposite the looming window, filled to the brim with books of all different sizes and authors. “One of you can sleep on the couch in here.”