A/N: So here I go again, starting another fic when I haven't updated the others. I'm a horrible person, but this one couldn't be helped, every single time I watch a Supernatural episode Kallie keeps popping into my mind! So here it is, I hope you enjoy it as much as I'm enjoying putting a girl in between the brothers to kind of calm down their many arguments and keep them together as a family. ^_^ Please review because that makes me want to actually keep writing!
-Cherry
(Also props to my talented Beta Kristen who is the best!) *********************************************************************************
You can count up So don't feel bad
All of your friends
Who still really know
You on just one hand
And the others
That come around too
They'll understand
Don't look so sad
We're much more than that
But for now
It's a deathtrap
It's a deathtrap
It's a deathtrap
It's a bloodbath
And it's gonna get worse
Before It Gets Better by Earlimart
"Night Kallie!" Ray Wilkens, a man that looked to be in his late sixties, called after the girl from behind the bar as he finished the closing time chores.
Over the last couple of years Ray he had taken to watching over the young girl who worked at his bar. The first time she'd entered with some friends celebrating a birthday or something of the sort. While the others had been off dancing or shooting pool she stayed at the bar listening to some poor soul talk about his life history and how his wife had left him. Instead of brushing him off, Kallie had stayed in her seat and let him talk while Ray refilled their drinks. After the man left Ray had joked with her. "Gonna make yourself a bartender someday? You're pretty good at offering a listening ear."
She smiled at him, her cheeks turning slightly red. "He didn't have anyone else to talk to, and everyone deserves a chance to tell their story; a chance to get a weight off their shoulders." She grinned shyly and took a sip of her drink. "Besides, sometimes I think bartenders are the best therapists in the world and you only pay for the drinks, not the service."
Ray was surprised, not many young adults had that way of thinking anymore; in his opinion too many only cared about themselves and how something could benefit them directly. "You from around here? I never forget a face and I haven't seen yours."
"I'm from a town south of here but my friends and I decided we needed a new start." She glanced over her shoulder to the group she came in with. "Nic's company opened a new office so we figured it was the perfect time."
Putting a glass down he offered his hand, "Names Ray Wilkens, owner of this bar for almost twenty years now."
She hesitated before taking his hand, "Kallista." She hadn't offered her last name.
"Beautiful name." He commented before telling her a little about him like how he'd been married for twenty some years before his wife had died and he opened the bar to keep himself busy. By the end of the night she opened up a little more, letting it slip that she had no real family because she grew up in an orphanage where her friends were her family. After only a couple of hours talking he bid her goodnight and said, "You got any bartending experience?"
She didn't but something told him to offer anyway, "Any chance you're in need of a job? Had this boy, Billy, good kid, but he moved away for school and this bar is too much for an old man like me to run alone."
A week had gone by before she came back and accepted the offer.
It had only been a year now but he'd grown to love that girl as if she was family and he worried about her living on her own. He was sure she felt the same way, having taken to calling him 'Uncle Ray' for a while now and he had a feeling she didn't trust easily or invite strangers to be family.
Kallie was 22 now, having celebrated her birthday a few days earlier, but her height always made people think she was younger. Much to her disappointment she stood at 5'1" and was the butt of many drunken short jokes while working, but her temper matched her fiery hair and Ray had no worries that she couldn't handle herself.
"You be careful now, you hear? Why you don't drive here is beyond me." He muttered, shutting off the main lights.
"Always am Uncle Ray. Are you sure you don't need me to close up for you?" Her polite manner always made Ray wonder if there was an old soul in that body instead of a young adult's.
"Don't you worry about a thing, just going to stock a few items and head to bed myself. Get home and in bed, gonna need you here late tomorrow night."
She tucked her chin into her neck and kept her eyes on the ground from years of habit, watching her black booted feet and listening to the clicking of her heals on the sidewalk. Her apartment was only a couple of blocks from the bar, making it easier to walk instead of drive. It meant she didn't need as much gas money for the week, which wasn't something she easily came by. She worked two jobs to keep her apartment, pay the utility bills, her car and groceries. It was when she was almost home that she felt it, that feeling like you aren't alone; like someone's watching you. Glancing around nervously, she didn't see anyone and told herself that voice she thought she heard was only the wind. Still, she sped up, almost jogging toward her apartment building that was within eyesight. She didn't dare look back as she heard footsteps behind her, instead running as fast as she could. Her heart pounded in her chest and in her ears as she rushed up the stairs, pulling her keys from her pocket and fiddling with the key in the lock as she tried to unlock the door. Just as she managed to turn the key the stench of whiskey and cigarettes filled her nostrils. Her heart tightening with fear, she threw the door open to hurry up the stairs and onto the third floor as quickly as possible. She finally paused in front of her door, hands shaking as the footsteps grew louder. She managed to turn the key in the lock, fling the door open, shut it, and lock it.
A paw scratching at her leg made her heart beat easier; she was safe in her apartment, especially with Nava there to protect her. The ball of fluff was a young husky puppy that she'd been given for her birthday. Even though she was only a few months old, she could have sworn he was smarter than the average puppy.
"Hey Nava." She greeted him as she bent down and scratched his ears before straightening and heading further into the kitchen.
The puppy stared at the closed door for a moment before growling and fallowing after her. He barked as her phone began ringing, his little yips making her laugh as she answered, "Hello?"
"Oh my God! Did you hear Kallie?" Came the panicked voice of one of her friends.
"I'm guessing not Chloe, what is it?"
"Dominic is dead! They found him this morning!" Her voice shook with her sobbing.
Grabbing the counter, Kallie couldn't have heard her correctly; Nic couldn't be dead. "What? How?"
"They're saying it was suicide! He locked himself in a c-closet or something with a bottle of bleach. They're saying he stuffed towels under the door and drank it!"
"But Nic was happy," Kallie said, trying to prove the girl wrong. "He called just called me a few days ago saying he was seeing someone. He sounded so happy." Tears filled her eyes as she shook her head in disbelief; Chloe had to be wrong!
"That's not all, Kallie. They said he had…had some kind of scrub or something, like washing the floors!" Chloe whimpered, "Kals, it's like what she used to do."
Kallie's heart stopped for a moment as she slid to the floor, ignoring Nava's whines as he nudged her face with his nose. "She's dead, Chloe, and she can't hurt us anymore." She whispered as tears leaked from her eyes.
"I know but…it's…she just.."
"No. Stop it. Just stop it. She's gone. Something must have made Nic snap; it wasn't anyone's fault. Get some sleep and we'll meet in the morning." She whispered, her other hand clenching in her attempt to stay strong for her friend while they were on the phone.
"Nicky's gone Kallie." Chloe sobbed.
"I know Chloe…but," she took a deep breath. "There's nothing we can do."
Hanging up the phone, Kallie's mind whirled with the news of her friends' death. Of course Chloe would know before any of the others, she was a journalist for the town paper. How could Dominic be dead? He really had sounded happy, much happier than Kallie had ever heard him. He'd told her all about the man he'd met and how he wanted to plan a dinner party for everyone to meet him. Why kill himself now? And why in that way?
That night she had nightmares about her past, nightmares that had lessened over the years. Little did she know a new nightmare was only beginning but that along with it would come miracles she could never dream of happening.
"Another was mauled by a dog. The catch is that she was afraid of dogs and never had one." Sam was telling his older brother.
The two Winchester boys sat at a table inside a local diner of some town neither was sure of the name. While Dean continued eating his sandwich piled high with only who knows what, Sam had his laptop open and was typing away, glancing through different online newspapers.
Mouth open as he chewed, Dean raised an eyebrow at his brother. "And? I mean, I know it's weird but it can happen."
"Okay that's really gross, Dean. Don't talk with your mouth full." Sam said, disgusted as he stared at the computer screen. "She was inside of her apartment, all doors and windows locked and no sign of a break in." A few clicks and he began reading again, "The last was just a few days ago: A man was killed inside of his locked apartment, smothered by fireplace ashes."
Swallowing Dean grinned. "Let me guess, no fireplace." The nod he received showed he was right and that was enough for him. Signaling for the check, he stuffed the rest of the fries on his plate into his mouth. "Looks like we're heading to Illinois."
"There's another one."
Dean glanced up. "Wait, in the same town? How far apart?"
"It looks like about a week. Says they found him in his closet, locked from the outside with a bottle of bleach. They're calling it suicide." They shared a look, they both knew that the likely hood of the guy killing himself was just as likely as Big Foot being real.
Maybe not. Either way, they both doubted the guy had killed himself, especially since he had been locked in the closet from the outside, but apparently the cops were over looking that.
"Any others?" Dean wondered, catching the waitress's gaze and motioning for their bill.
He received a negative nod as he checked out the young waitress's butt as she walked away. Three deaths in the same town was more than just a coincidence, it sounded like an angry spirit was loose and looking for revenge. Dean pulled out his wallet and left the correct amount of money for the bill and a tip on the table. Together he and Sam made their way out of the diner. They drove away, music blaring from the black '67 Chevy Impala, hoping to reach Illinois before another innocent life was taken.
Louder louder To think I might not see those eyes
And we'll run for our lives
I can hardly speak I understand
Why you can't raise your voice to say
Makes it so hard not to cry
And as we say our long goodbye
I nearly do
Run by Snow Patrol