Recruit

Chapter 16

Chapter 16

I keep throwing the knife trying to think of a name for it. If I'm connected with it, it deserves a name. Something cool. She throws like a dream, straight as an arrow. Examining it, the blade itself is about four inches, deeply serrated half way through them smooth and sharp, curving out and meeting a point. The handle is wooden, a dark faded grey wood though. It's smooth and sanded, fitting my hand perfectly, no matter how I hold it. Then the blunt end of the handle look like it's bone or deer antler. Milky white contrasting with the dark grey looks nice. My favorite part is the engraving. It looks like a stain was run through it, because in the lines it's darker. The letters are in a cursive that's so much more than writing, it's a sophisticated, sexy, graceful and above all; classy font. When each line ends it trails off, getting shallow until it meets the surface.

"GUYS! HOUSEHOLD MEETING; LIVING ROOM NOW!" I yell, Banner Sam and Dean all left at some point. I've only been throwing for like ten minutes.

I walk to the living room and wait for the slow congregation to make its way in. After doing a head count and double checking I have the full audience I want I clear my throat.

"I need to name her." I announce, holding up the blade.

"Seriously?" Nat looks at me.

"My people name everything." Giving her a serious look.

"Your people?" Banner questions.

"Southern folk." I clarify, doing a spot on accent.

He nods on understanding and we continue.

"What about Star? Dean jokes, raising his hands dramatically.

"She's a sophisticated, elegant, classy, weapon; Dean, not a stripper." I scold not having his bullshit.

"Jacklyn?" Sam offers, the room gives him a look.

"Like Jackie Kennedy. She's like the way you described the knife." He explains, like it was obvious.

"No, I like the thought though."

"Dude, you think Jackie Kennedys hot?" Dean patronizes his brother.

"What about Aminee?" Castiel brainstorms.

"Wow, Cas that's- that's actually beautiful. Where'd you come up with that." I admit.

"It is an angelic phrase. It means loyalty, graceful strength." He construes.

"I like that, thanks man." I smile and raise Aminee his way. He nods.

"Well, it's half past noon now, I was thinking about four or five well order Chinese?" Nat suggest, standing.

"Yum." I agree, everyone else nods.

I retreat back to the weapons room and throw Aminee more. It's funny, like she has a personality. Now that I've named her, her flies even more remarkably. Dean wonder in after a few minutes and just leans against the table, looking distant. A long silence passes before I turn my head and see he hasn't moved the slightest. When he doesn't notice me, I face him; his eyes are fogged, in a different way from if he had been drinking. His face is in a permeant contorted scowl, dark circles surrounding his eyes tell me he hasn't slept in a while. His nose twitches, almost to a snarl, for a split second, like he's replaying something, a lecture, in his head over and over. And my guess is that exactly.

"Dean, stop it." I warn, shaking him from his state.

"What?" He's playing stupid.

"Stop beating yourself up." I bark back, judging by his body language, he was thinking about his dad.