𝒮𝒾𝓁𝓋ℯ𝓇 ℰ𝓎ℯ𝓈 | 𝒮. 𝒲𝒾𝓃𝒸𝒽ℯ𝓈𝓉ℯ𝓇 |

0.2

"Wait, you're the Winchesters?" I asked.

Dean looked surprised. "Yeah? You've heard of us?"

"Yeah. Garth has mentioned you a few times," I said.

Sam chuckled. "Small world. Now, can you tell us more about the mangled body?"

I walked back over to the desk and begun to gather my things. "Yeah. That was my only class of the day. But we probably shouldn't talk here."

Dean nodded. "We can meet up at the motel that Sam and I are staying at. We need to change into normal clothes any ways."

I nodded, sling my bag over my shoulder and grabbing my now empty coffee cup. "That'll work. I'll follow you there."

With that, we headed out to the parking lot, Sam and Dean leading the way, having a quiet conversation as they walked.

The religious practices building was the one closest to the tree line, the woods being only a few yards away from the parking lot.

When we stepped outside, the hairs on the back of my neck stood up, and I immediately knew that we were being watched.

I looked to Sam and Dean to see if they had noticed, and judging by their actions, I would say they had.

The sound of cracking twigs and the rustling of leaves made me turn to the tree line, only to see a few bushes shaking.

A flash of silver caught my, and I turned just enough to see Sam and Dean holding their guns.

Out of instinct, I looked around, surveying the area.

There a few more cars in the parking lot, which meant there had to be a couple people still in the building.

"Guys, don't. If you take a shot, to many people will hear it," I said.

"Shit," muttered Dean as he slipped the gun between his belt and his back.

"Just go to your car. It most likely won't do anything out in the open," I said, quickly grabbing the keys to my truck out of my pocket.

The two of them walked in the opposite direction, heading to an old Chevy Impala, while I made my way over to my truck.

It was an old, beat up Ford, but I loved it.

It still ran perfectly, and it had plenty of space for me to hide the things I'd need for the job- I had installed a pull-out compartment that slid out of the back of the seat. You could only open it if you knew where the trigger was, and I had made sure that I you couldn't just stumble across it.

I hopped in the truck, turning the keys, the engine rumbling to life.

Still feeling watched, I slowly backed out of the spot and began to follow Sam and Dean's car.

After about thirty minutes, we pulled off the highway into the parking lot of a hole-in-the-wall motel.

I parked near them, grabbing my bag and slipping it over my shoulders.

Sam and Dean had run inside their room already, probably to change into normal clothes.

I couldn't blame them. My "federal agent" look involved the most uncomfortable pantsuit in the world.

I stood next to the door, waiting for them to open it.

After a few short minutes, Dean did, letting me in.

On the coffee table were a couple of empty beer bottles, a laptop, an old book on lore, as well as the copies of the case files.

The room itself had old, dark green wallpaper and wood paneling that went up three feet from the floor.

There were two beds, a bathroom, as well as little closet in the back left corner. Each bed had light yellow comforters, complete with matching sheets and pillowcases. I also noticed that one bed was neatly made, while the other had the covers thrown about.

A small kitchenette was tucked in the front right corner, and a table sat in front of the window on some very worn out hardwood floors. The door was in the front left corner, and the bathroom diagonal from it.

"Homey," I said.

Sam chuckled. "We take what we can get. Pay with cash, take care of whatever we're here for, t-"

"Then get the hell outta dodge," I said. "I've been down this road a time or two."

"Speaking of," said Dean. "We tried to call Garth to verify who you are but he wouldn't pick up. So, you're gonna have to do the usual tests, and give us some background information. Trust is something we don't give out easily."

I shrugged. "Okay. I'm used to it. Part of the job. Knife?" I asked, putting my hand out.

Sam grabbed a knife out of his pocket, handing it to me, his warm hands briefly touching my own.

I rolled up my sleeve, then flipped the silver-bladed pocket knife open. Carefully, I made a small cut in part of my forearm.

"Holy water?" I asked as I walked over to the sink, letting the drops of blood run down the drain.

This time, it was Dean who gave me a small, silver flask.

I twisted it open, poured a little on the cut, the closed it and handed it back to Dean.

I washed the cut, where the bleeding was already starting to slow down.

"Well, you're human," said Dean.

Sam scoffed. "You want some help with that?" He gestured to the cut.

"Yeah. Thanks," I said as I turned towards him. "Didn't exactly expect I'd be cutting my arm open."

Sam chuckled as he walked over to the beds. He stopped at the neatly made one and leaned down, pulling out a bag from underneath it and throwing it on top.

Dean watched his brother in silence, occasionally glancing over to me as he leaned on the wall.

"Here," Sam said, walking back with what looked like a bandanna in his hand.

After handing it me, I tied it around the cut, then rolled my sleeve back down.

"Okay, that part's done. You said you wanted to know a bit about me?" I asked.

Dean nodded.

Sam sat down in on of the chairs, and I leaned against the counter.

"Well, I'm thirty years old, and have been hunting for about ten. Found out the truth when one of my friends I had during college got possessed and tried to kill me, you know, as demons do. I then switched my major to learn more about these kind of things. After I graduated, I started hunting regularly."

"Garth and I met a few years back, and he calls me when he needs to know something about something or if someone needs help with a case. I had been living in an apartment about two hours away after having taken care of the last case I was on. People knew other people, and I got called here to teach after the professor went missing. Got here, discovered there was a case, then ran into you guys," I said looking to both Sam and Dean.

They turned to each other, yet again having a silent conversation, then Dean turned back to me.

"Alright. Now, let's talk about these victims."