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38

It took me a couple days to get off the couch let alone stop crying. Joy didn't bug me unless it was something really important or I needed to eat. I barely slept because I was afraid of my nightmares getting the best of me without him and I didn't want to wake Olly. After a week of this I finally caved and crashed for a full eight hours of uninterrupted, though riddled with nightmares, sleep.
When I woke up and checked my phone there were twenty nine missed calls. 19 from Sam and 10 from Dean.
The next morning there were 15 from each.
The morning after that even more.
That next night Dean called after I had just woken up from a scene of Jonathan grinning and stabbing me in placed a girl should not be stabbed with a hot fire poker, repeatedly.
"Fuck... Joy I can't keep this up if they keep calling me..." I sighed as I felt the weight on my shoulders increase.
"You want me to answer?" She asked passing me a glass of water and sitting next to me on the bed.
"Sure... but don't let me talk to Sam. I-"
"Okay, shut up." She ordered picking up the phone and walking across the room. "You guys need to leave her alone. She's trying to get over you." She spat into the phone.
There was muffled talking on the other line and Joy's face looked like she was either going to throw something or shoot something.
"Look man I don't know what exactly happened but from what she told me she's leaving to protect you because you said it yourself she attracts trouble and she-"
There was a pause where Joy just looked at me like I was dying, "okay... Don't feel bad if she doesn't talk." She handed me the phone and whispered, "it's Dean. He won't let Sam talk okay?" I nodded and took the phone from her.
"Dean stop...." I sighed on the verge of crying.
"SAM SHES GOOD!" Dean yelled before responding to me. There was a muffled cry of relief in the background that tore my heart in two but I kept quiet as Dean continued, "We just wanted to know if you made it to your sisters or found a place to stay."
"I'm fine Dean." I mumbled.
"You sound like shit Gingy." He stated without an attempt at sugar coating.
"That's what happens after you say goodbye to someone you love, it sucks. Now can I go back to sleep?" I snapped in a half assed manner.
I really wanted to hear Sam's voice but I wouldn't be able to stay at Joy's if that happened. I would leave in a heartbeat and I knew it. I wanted to hug him and kiss him and cuddle with him and just be near him and that put him in danger. So I held my tongue and waited for Dean's response.
"Evelynn, Sam is in pretty bad shape..." Dean said warily.
"He'll move on. And then he'll be safer." My voice broke as a tear streaked down my cheek, "Take care of him okay?" I asked.
"You know I will." Dean whispered, voice thick and raspy like he was holding back tears before he paused to take a deep breath and his voice returned to normal, "Will you pick up the next time I call? I'll just be checking up on you."
I thought about this for a moment. It couldn't hurt either of them to know I was okay right?
"If I can..." I said shakily.
"Okay, love you Gingy." Dean said, hanging up without waiting for my response.
I laid back in my pillow and cried until dawn.
After a month, Joy's boyfriend Chris, who happened to be a psychiatrist, and I had a nice long talk in which I proved the existence of monsters and that I wasn't all human and we talked over my trauma. He told me I had the PTSD of men who had been kidnapped in Afghanistan, as if I didn't make that connection. Either way he was helpful and great for Joy which made me happy to see her happy.
After two months I had gotten it together enough to go get a job.
True to my hunter identity I started bartending, picking up the local gossip and meeting all the hunters in the area.
"You're the Winchester's girl? That tall one sure knows how to pick 'em!" They would say and I would smile and nod so that they wouldn't try to hit on my anymore.
I could tell some of them were scared of Sam. They helped with the guys who weren't hunters that tried hitting on me too.
"Buddy you don't want to mess with her. Her man can rip you limb from limb." They would say and I would still just smile, maybe even giggle and say "yeah he could" because it was true. Sam could destroy these guys. Not that he would... He wouldn't know.
Nope, shut up. Smile and give them their beer.
After three months I picked up a case in the next town over and knocked it out of the ballpark. It was a simple ghoul situation which impressed all the guys at the bar especially since I didn't have a scratch left from it (not because I didn't get any) and they thought I was the shit. I let them think that, it was kind of fun to be held in high esteem. I was starting to adjust to life outside of the bunker.
Month four and five signaled me finally not needing to talk to Chris about what was going on in my head and a significant decline in nightmares. I didn't wake up anymore, and I wouldn't twitch when people used Crowley euphemisms at the bar. Things seemed to be kind of improving. I made friends with the regulars, a gay hunter that I was constantly trying to set up (he was unbelievably picky), my co-worker Lacey, a short well groomed businessman who was totally cheating on his wife, and Piano Man who would rock out with me while I cleaned up after close (that's what I called him, but his name was Ringo).
Six months after I left I was okay. Not happy, but okay.
I would still thought of Sam and Dean every day, but the tears were much less frequent.
Dean called consistently once a week on Monday night around the same time. Conversation was dry and to the point but it was what got me through the week. As long as I knew my boys were still alive I could keep on trucking.
Joy and I had created a system to where I took Olly in the mornings and would go to work when she came home so she didn't have to pay a babysitter. Olly was great, we were best buds. He nicknamed me "ehvy", because he couldn't say Evelynn, and we sang along to frozen and all the Disney songs I had on my phone in the car and everything was pretty okay. I warded and Devils trapped the shit out of his room and play area too as well as the rest of the house.
We didn't have a single supernatural being visit all six months and I was starting to get worried they might be hiding or something, but I pushed the thought away when I remembered how paranoid people end up living alone.
Seven months after I left I was talking with Ethan (my gay best friend) about nothing in particular when he slammed his beer down, "oh shit man. I forgot to tell you. There've been some major demon omens around that big race barn out of town."
"Oh? How big?" I asked taking a sip of his beer after checking to make sure no one was watching.
"Hey!" He protested snatching it back without really caring, "well horses are dropping like flies. There's some other demony shit too. I wasn't paying attention." He said flippantly.
"Why not?" I asked, slightly concerned about his inattention.
"Do you remember that tall brunet with the calf brown eyes and unbelievably large hands?" He asked. I smiled and nodded.
"Well his hands were a very accurate representation of..." Ethan insinuated sipping his beer and turning to go.
"Whoa whoa whoa. Get back here sir. You need to first tell me about that, then more about that barn." I demanded setting another beer down in his spot and putting my hands on my hips.