A Grip On Reality (Destiel AU)

The Average Person's Insanity Is My Typical Thursday Afternoon

I wasn't exactly a hunter. Yes, I killed monsters and exorcised the occasional demon, but I didn't make a habit out of it. It was just something I found out I was skilled at. Saving people, hunting things. The Z business.

I learned most everything from Supernatural, but I also picked up a few tricks of my own. A little insight. For example, every model ever: shapeshifters. Who knew? Well, with some of them....

But Lady Gaga? Human. I know, man.

I dragged Guy's body out of the car, which was difficult with my bad leg. Luckily we were now in pretty much the middle of nowhere. I wasn't sure if I wanted to burn the body, since the only gasoline available was in the car, and I wasn't planning on siphoning gas out of a fucking Ford Fusion. But without the gasoline, it could take hours for the body to burn. Then if I just left it on the side of the road....

I contemplated this as I lit a cigarette. I leaned on my cane as I put the cigarette between my lips. I took my lighter out of one of my many pockets and started smoking like a chimney. After what's been happening lately, I needed a smoke. Just for a bit.

I stared down at the body shamelessly. It didn't really affect me anymore. They all died. All the time. I felt exactly none of the guilt I should've felt.

"Poor guy. No pun intended. You will be missed. I think."

I then thought to search his car for an extra gallon of gas. I opened his trunk and found just what I was searching for. Lucky day.

"Aha," I spoke to myself. "Yahtzee."

I took the gasoline and poured it on the body, throwing my lighter down, watching as he burst into flames. I inhaled the nicotine and exhaled the smoke, flicking my cigarette onto the body.

"That was my favorite lighter."

I let his body burn as I drove myself to the motel. The drive was long and dreary, and I often found myself caught in a state of highway hypnosis, but I soon reached the motel.

I checked in and walked into my room, collapsing on the bed. I sat up and began to inspect my leg. I rolled up my jeans so I could see the recurring problem. The problem that started three years ago. The problem with my damn leg.

My damn prosthetics leg.

The piss poor excuse for screws they used on this thing were wildly unpredictable. My piss poor excuse for a leg had a serious tendency to lock up and stop functioning properly.

It was all in the knee, where there were quite a few little nuts and bolts and things to make sure it bent properly. I was constantly tweaking with its little bits and pieces in an attempt to get it to work until it locked up again in another couple of weeks.

Once I was sure it was fixed, I stood up to test it out. I walked around the small room, and it wasn't too problematic. For now.

I looked at my watch. 10:35. Not even noon yet. Maybe I could get some midday leg to get my mind off things. Huh. Leg. Accidental funny.

I hadn't had a good lay in the past week almost. I desperately needed to get some. And I knew it haunted my dreams because most mornings, I'd wake up and realize the bed is wet. Of course, another big hint might've been my early morning raging boner. If only I could actually remember my dream hookup.

It felt like I was going cold turkey, and I couldn't stand it anymore. Jerking off to skin mags wasn't an ideal solution. So I went to the lobby and was about to walk out when I caught sight of an... easy target.

She was checking in at the front desk, and boy, she was a looker. That ass, though. You could bounce a nickel off that thing.

I noticed her bag had airline tags on them. She flew in from Texas. That would explain it. All that southern sex appeal. Damn.