I do not own any of the Supernatural characters. Author's notes will be in bold. Please review! -xoxo
Hanna-16
Dean-25
Sam-21
"Never call me again!" I slammed the door in Drew's face with tears spilling down my face. I would talk to Mara tomorrow, that bitch. She thought she could pull one over on me, with my boyfriend. Well, she could take him, for all I care, Drew and I were finished. Now, the only thing I had to do was make it to my bedroom in the motel without Sam and Dean noticing me crying. That would just bring questions, and their weird brotherly instincts to go confront Drew. I wanted to wait until tomorrow to deal with this shit. I had stolen a few of Dean's beers from his room for my date with Drew, but since it was cancelled, I just wanted to go sit in bed, cry, and get drunk.
So, that's exactly what I did. I was able to make it past Sam and Dean's room, which wasn't difficult, because the sore was shut and the TV was on and make it to the separate bedroom I got since I was the girl of the trio. I opened the mini fridge and popped open one of the beers. Dean would be mad I stole them, but wouldn't care if I was drinking. Sam, on the other hand...
So I was discreet. I downed the first bottle in no time, and quickly moved onto the next. Once I had finished that one too. I began to feel the affects of the alcohol taking form in my lightweight body. The tears had continued to fall this entire time, but I had forgotten why. Then I remembered again and a whole fresh wave of sadness rushed over me and I attempted to cover a loud sob, but failed miserably.
"Hanna?" Dean walked into my room, with Sam on his heels. "You alright?"
"Yeah, I'm fine, just swell." I responded, pushing through their broad frames in the doorway and heading towards the exit of our room. "I'm just gonna go take a walk," I sniffled, facing my back towards my older brothers.
"Hey, Han," Sam said, "Why don't you stay here, alright? We're in the middle of a job, and you fit the victims requirements." I ignored him, throwing on my shoes and grabbing a coat.
"Hey! Hanna, get your ass back here." Dean scolded, sitting down on the couch and patting the space next to him. I faltered, and couldn't keep my emotions in check. I sighed, and tears came streaming down my face as I sat next to Dean. He put his strong arms around me and I held onto them with all I had.
I know 16 is the age people associate with finding their true love, but that's what it felt like. Every since we were 13, me and Drew had been in love, and we had friends even before that. When dad said I was old enough to go on hunts with the boys and stop leaving me in the dark at home with a nanny last year, I was torn. Yes, I wanted to see my brothers and help them kill the evil sons of bitches, but Drew, the love of my life, was back in Tennessee. Eventually, he was the one who convinced me to go with my brothers, and he never failed to find me and take me out during me free time. And then I figure out all of this time it was for me best friend Mara, that he was just trying to get closer to her? I couldn't handle it, I just couldn't.
As I continued to sob, Dean held my shoulders with his arms straight. "Listen. I won't ask you what happened until tomorrow, you get one day to deal with it yourself. But when you tell me and Sammy, I promise you we will hunt down the bastard who hurt you, okay?" I nodded at him, and tried to compose myself. "Now," he said, "You want a beer?"
Sam started, "Dean, she's only-"
"Yeah, yeah, I know she's 16, but we're here, and nothing bad will happen to her, she's fine. Han, do you want one?"
"Yes please," I responded guiltily. Even Dean wouldn't give me more after two, given I was such a lightweight. But I took it, and downed the entire bottle before Sam had even taken a sip of his own.
"Hey now. It took me years before I could do that." Sam said, glancing at the empty bottle in front of me. "How many times have you had a beer?"
"Maybe she's just stronger than you Sammy," Dean smirked, and I smiled feebly, wiping tears out of my eyes.
All of a sudden, my eyelids felt like they weighed a thousand pounds, and my brain felt too dense to process. Usually, when I passed out drunk, which I had been known to do on occasion, the sleep came like a relief, something that made me float. This weariness made me feel like I was drowning. I rubbed at my temples, trying to wake myself up.
"Hanna... Hanna! What wrong?" Sam was in front of me, holding my shoulders.
"Relax Sam, she had some before I gave her the beer, she's probably just passing out from the alcohol." How did he know? I thought I was careful. But Dean was wrong about one thing; this was not me passing out. I had been drugged, I could sense it. But before I could verbalize this to Dean, the sleep caught hold of me and my head fell limply into Dean's lap.