A grin spread across her face as she pressed against a building's brick facade to watch her mark enter small neighborhood cafe. She stood wide eyed, fascinated watching the girl effortlessly chat up the baristas and some of the locals as she waited for her coffee. Summer Wind McKenzie was a regular at the cafe it seems. The cafe itself was several blocks away from the St. Raphael's hospital, where she worked, and though she passed by several coffee shops on the way, she always seems to come to this one. Then, like clockwork, she would leave, her tumbler refilled, cross the street and sit on a park bench simply to enjoy the summer sun for fifteen minutes. Then she would slowly make her way back to the hospital looking like the day had just begun.
She has observed her for a total of two days now and as far as she can tell, this is what the doctor does during her break. It was a peculiar habit almost as curious as her wardrobe. The other doctors that milled about always wore either sharp crisp dress shirts, the occasional vest, a coat and dress pants with coordinating formal shoes, a picture of professionalism, or scrubs and a comfortable pair of shoes. Summer Wind McKenzie wore neither. She seemed to always wear a pair of black and white Converse sneakers, jeans, and whatever shirt happened to be within reach and maybe a leather motorcycle jacket. Yesterday she wore a light washed, wide leg pair of jeans, with a simple long black shirt. Today she's wearing a dark wash straight leg and a long loose tie- dyed asymmetrical button down tank top with her leather jacket. Together with the leather bracelets and beads on her wrists, the silver rings and the long tear drop necklace, she looked like she was going to the mall instead of going to work.
"Come on, Becky," she said to herself, adjusting her mustard vest and smoothing the invisible wrinkles on her own pair of jeans as she stared at the entrance of St. Raphael's Hospital, "You can do this. Today is the day."
With a firm decisive nod, she took a confident step forward. Her plan was simple-- Enter the free clinic, where she found out the other day, the good doctor had been volunteering on her week off, fill out the necessary forms, ask specifically for Dr. McKenzie and wait for her turn. She wasn't worried about any diagnosis, after all, she wasn't sick. She just wanted to meet the doctor ever since she stumbled upon her in the drafts of her beloved Chuck Shurley aka Carver Edlund, writer of the Supernatural series.
Yes, one fateful day, Becky Rosen had used her key to surprise her boyfriend just to find him sprawled on the couch sleeping. A glass perched precariously on the table beside a half empty bottle of scotch had told her that the man was next to useless. He was undoubtedly wasted once more using alcohol to soothe the jackhammer pounding on his head the night before. She should have been sad. This was a total buzz kill. However, she knew her Chuck. A headache that had to be drowned in alcohol meant that her boyfriend had seen something-- which meant one thing to a girl like her.
There was a story lurking somewhere and she, the number one Supernatural fan, just had to find it.
And find it Becky did. Only, she didn't find just one. She found a whole bunch of stories, hidden away at the very bottom of his sock drawer. At first, she was offended. Chuck had always given her stories to read, even just drafts of stories with lame adjectives. For him to be hiding them from her like a betrayal. But then another thought popped in her head-- maybe it's happened. Wincest!
So she read the stories hungry to know how what happened to these people she had loved so very much. There was no Wincest, but she was hardly disappointed with the adventures that Chuck saw in his head. She now knew why he hid them. They were terrifying and heartbreaking at the same time. The Winchester brothers, Lucifer and Jo and Ellen Anna and Castiel...
But then, there was this girl named Summer Wind, a doctor in Washington state. And Becky read all about her. At first, she couldn't imagine that a parent could name a child Summer Wind. She was convinced Chuck had changed the doctor's name to protect her privacy even if the story was just scribbles, a draft before a draft. She searched the internet for the name anyway and lo and behold, she actually exists. There was her name on the university undergraduate graduation list. There was her name in passing the medical board exams. Summer Wind was a real person. Last name: McKenzie. She piqued her curiosity enough for Becky to immediately buy a plane ticket to Washington state, ride a bus to her town and wait, that first day, for a glimpse of the twenty five year old doctor and her white 65 VW Beetle.
-- -- -
And there she is, Becky Rosen. Meg couldn't help but smile at the simplicity of her plan as she eyed the nerdy girl waiting for her turn inside the clinic. She had been going around the world ashamed of her recent failures. During those times she spent alone wallowing in self defeat, she had trashed Every Get- the- Winchesters plot she had ever planned. They wouldn't work. Something was always in the way. And she really couldn't afford to fail her father, the bright and mighty Lucifer, again. Once was enough.
So one day, she stumbled waywardly inside a comic book shop and found a convention poster for a series called Supernatural. Two boys, a pentagram, and a drawing of a familiar looking car, the Impala stared at her in the face. No way, she had thought for a second. The demon didn't like the brothers but even they know that publishing their lives to the world, even if it is for a little money, was the most stupid thing to do. Especially when they were being hunted.
But page after page of a certain story felt true. A sketch of her old body stared right at her, including her past sins-- being tied down to a chair, exposing the demon plan, all the while, Dean Winchester sent her back to hell anyway. Out of spite.
So out of spite, she went after the publisher to find this Carver Edlund. She had asked for the information nicely, the publisher refused. Meg had no patience for games deciding to show her true nature to the spirited publisher, who apparently was also a fan of this monstrosity and needless to say, not only did she get the information she wanted, she also satisfied a certain craving. The publisher wasn't going to add any stories to that series anytime soon.
Then a problem presented itself. She had no doubt in her mind that Chuck knew the Winchesters. She had briefly stolen his phone in the grocery store to confirm after all. If the Winchesters didn't sell their story to this shaggy lump of a man Chuck Shurley, then it only meant one thing. He was a prophet. Prophets come with Archangels. Meg was good but even she knew she couldn't match an archangel blow for blow. So she needed something else, someone else, someone this Chuck cared for.
Enter Becky Rosen. Girlfriend and Supernatural fanatic. The best two in one mix Meg had ever seen. Why Becky Rosen was stalking this hippie looking Dr. McKenzie was beyond her. The doctor, as far as she could figure, was just a doctor who probably got stuck with the occult fad to have so much of everything in different religions on her wrists. She wasn't their target, though, Meg had to admit, she was glad the doctor lived in a small city in Washington.
Washington state was a place she always liked especially these days that all types of people were so high on these vampire stories. The Pacific Northwest had a kind of relaxed vibe that fostered believers of all shapes and sizes. People who believe that fruits had feelings. People who believe in the Nature spirit. People who believed in nothing at all. And her personal favorite, people who believe and worship her father.
Conservatives called them extremists. Meg called them instant slaves.
-- -- --
Becky Rosen sat on the bed inside one of the clinic's examination room trying to contain her excitement. It was finally her turn. Any second now, Doctor Summer Wind McKenzie was going to walk through that closed door and ask her how she's doing. At that thought, Becky's grin faltered slightly-- what was she going to say? She'd concentrated so much on how to meet this person that she forgot to think of something they can actually talk about.
But it was too late to back out now. The door opened. Her shirt was now tucked in revealing a belt with rather chunky silver buckle, her long black hair was tied back to a bun, her bangs swept to one side and she was now wearing a doctor's coat but there she was. Dr. McKenzie was entering the room looking briefly at her clip board before closing the door behind her.
A friendly smile spread across the doctor's face. "Well, Ms. Rosen, I'm Dr. McKenzie. I heard you were looking for me, " she said, pinning the pen underneath the clip, "You're the first patient I've seen all day with a smile on her face."
"That's good right?" Becky answered quickly, suddenly nervous, starting to regret she ever came. "I mean, it's a smile. That's good right?"
The doctor shrugged, giving her a curious smile. "It's refreshing," she offered. "But you wouldn't be seeing a doctor if you didn't think something was wrong. So tell me, Ms. Rosen, how are feeling?" she asked.
It was a simple question but it caught Becky by surprise. She saw the doctor's blue eyes observe her growing panic. She felt her smile start to seem forced. She felt her heartbeat even faster. "Terrible," Becky blurted out a bit too loudly, and with a bit more enthusiasm than she would have liked, "I mean," she tried controlling herself when Summer's gaze went from attentively waiting to attentively confused. "I feel terrible," Becky said a bit softer.
"Okay," the doctor replied tentatively, "Can you tell me why you feel terrible? Are you in any pain-"
"No. No pain."
"any discomfort,-"
"Well, not really discomfort more uncomfortable."
"Then you feel bad because..." the doctor trailed on.
"Because of the apocalypse," Becky spat out. She saw the doctor's eyes widen in surprise, pull out a chair, sit down and furrow her brow, all the while writing on her clip board. There was a pause, the doctor was looking at her, not knowing how to reply.
"The apocalypse?" she finally asked, twirling a pen between her fingers.
"As in the end of days," Becky reiterated, eyes wide with excitement. "Angels and demons fighting it out. Lucifer himself trying to rally his troops into the bloody war," she went on. She finally had someone to talk to who know's this is all real.
Or does she? Because all the doctor did was to stare at her for a few seconds. "Ms. Rosen, are you experiencing undue stress at work?"
As a temp? "No. No stress."
"Have you been having trouble sleeping?"
Becky shrugged. She's been working hard to fuel the Supernatural fansites which sometimes take all night. But that's something she was used to and would gladly do twenty four- seven. "No trouble sleeping."
"Then, are you taking or have you ever been on any medications?"
"Does anti-biotics count?"
"No, not really," the good doctor relied tapping the pen on her chin. "Ms. Rosen, why do you think the world is ending?"
"Like you don't know what I'm talking about. You've met the Winchesters," she said, intentionally dropping the name to illicit a reaction.
The doctor just wrote on her board again. "And the Winchesters are..." she trailed on.
"Sam and Dean Winchester," Becky answered, nervously. Had she gotten it wrong? Maybe she wasn't a hunter. Maybe Chuck had made it all up and was ashamed so he placed it in his sock drawer. And now she was here in Washington talking to a doctor who probably thinks she's crazy. "You know what," Becky started to gather her things hurriedly, "I think I'm just gonna go."
"Hold on, Ms. Rosen--" the doctor tried to stop her by blocking her way to the door, which in hindsight, was a good thing because at that moment, the door swung open missing the doctor by centimeters.
There stood a beefy man dressed in all black, his wild hair dyed jet black, his green eyes were rimmed with kohl which just further emphasized his pale skin. He was probably a whole foot taller than the 5'6 doctor and twice her size, staring right at Becky, forcing her to take several steps backwards. The superfan watched the doctor turn to face the intruder with a frown on her face. "Sir, I'm in the middle of an examination. You're going to have to wait your turn or I am going to end up calling security," she said firmly, shoving both hands inside her coat pocket and shrugging.
"Step away, doc, you ain't in this," he threatened, taking a step forward. Two other men took his place behind him.
Much to Becky's amazement, Summer McKenzie didn't move from her place. The doctor was blocking the way in and out of the room and she seemed to look like she knew it because she merely raised her gaze and placed a hand firmly on the man's chest. "Sir, attacking a person is bad. Attacking a person inside a hospital is worse. But attacking a person in broad daylight-- that's just stupid. No jury is ever going to set you free," she reasoned in an loud, authoritative tone, "I suggest you take my warning to heart and leave."
"Sorry doc. No can do," the man said before shoving her to a wall
