I stared at the empty glass in my hand, debating if I should order another or pass. I had already downed three glasses, the one in my hand being the fourth. But, like any drunk, I ordered another round. Or two.
Finally, at the end of the night, I sat alone at the bar. The bartender wiped the counters and did everything he could not to ask me if I wanted another. I could read it on his face. But, I wasn't alone for long. Someone slid into the stool next to me.
"Well, if I didn't know much about drinking, I'd say you've outdone yourself."
It was a man, from the voice I could tell in my drunken state. I looked over to him, tilting my head in a slow manner.
"What's it to you, Mister? I like my beer." I hiccupped and turned back toward the bartender.
"Hey, wiper, can I get another round. And get one for this guy. Hey buddy, what's your name?"
"Dean. And who do I have the pleasure of meeting?"
"I'm (Y/N). I enjoy liquor and men who are great in bed." I giggled like a child, setting my head on his arm. "So. Dean. Dean-o. Dean Bean. What brings you to these neck of the woods?"
He half smiled.
"I came to find peace in a tall glass of beer. And maybe find women who are great in bed."
I bit my lip.
"Well, Mister, don't knock 'em 'til you try 'em."
Finally, the bartender handed me my seventh beer, but Dean took it away.
"I think you've had enough." He handed it back to the bartender.
I pouted. "Aw, not fair! You get to have a drink. I want my drink."
Finally, the weight of all the beer settled in and I found myself getting tired. I stood up and walked over to the door. But I thought a table looked rather comfortable.
"Hey, you mind if I sleep here? I won't be long." I smiled, my speech slurred under the alcohol.
I sprawled out on the table and closed my eyes, and I soon found myself drifting off to sleep.
When I awoke, I had a killer headache. I got off the bed I was lying on but stopped in my tracks. I was not in the bar, but in a motel room. And it was day.
"Morning, princess. How'd you sleep?" The man from last night, Dean, asked as he came out of the bathroom.
"Wha- where am I?" I groaned as I clutched my head. He tossed me a bottle.
"Those might help with your headache." He walked back into the bathroom.
"What happened?" I asked, suddenly feeling sick to my stomach.
"You drank so much alcohol you fell asleep on one of the tables." I could hear him snort. "You were so out no one could wake you. So, I took you here until you woke up."
"Oh. I remember you. You took my beer away."
The nausea was clouding my head. I gripped my stomach and covered my mouth. Dean walked out of the bathroom and glanced at my state.
"Hey, you alright?"
I shook my head and ran for the toilet. I vomited until there was nothing left. I looked at Dean with an embarrassed expression.
"I'd like to go home now."
"Sure thing." I could see him hiding a smile.
"Something funny?" I spat.
"No, no. It's just that last time someone got that drunk they didn't touch alcohol for a week."
"Yeah, well, this is the usual for me." I said, standing up and washing my my face and hands.
Someone opened and closed the motel room door. I glanced through the mirror and saw a tall man with long hair standing on the mat. He looked at Dean with a puzzled look.
"She's still here, Dean?"
"Oh, hello to you, too, stranger. Don't worry, I'm leaving now. I'll be out of all that hair you've got."
Dean snickered and looked to the tall man. He shrugged.
"(Y/N) this is Sam. Sam, meet (Y/N)."
"Yeah, I know who she is Dean. We met last night. When you brought her into our motel room."
"Well, she was passed out, Sammy. You didn't get to really meet her."
"Okay, let's just go. I'm late for my shift at work." I said, brushing past them both and into the parking lot.
The sun blinded me for a moment and made my head pound even harder. I groaned again and fetched out the pills Dean had tossed to me. I slipped a couple down my throat and swallowed. They went down like a fat kid stuck on a slide.
Finally, Dean came out.
"This yours?" I asked him, pointing to the black 1967 Chevy Impala. "The Impala?"
"You know cars?" He asked.
"My dad used to work with them. He would always bring home two cars every day. But he lived for the oldies."
Dean nodded and got into the driver's seat. I opened the passenger door and sat down next to him.
"I don't live too far from this motel, actually. It's just up the road a bit."
"Alright then. Let's get you home, cowgirl."
I rolled my eyes. "Okay, so maybe I suck at holding my liquor but I can't say I won't ever drink like that again."
He turned out of the parking lot.
"Well, maybe next time you should pace yourself. Seven beers?"
"How'd you know that?"
"The bartender told me after you passed out on the table." He rubbed his face. "Plus I paid for your drinks."
"Oh-oh no. I can't believe I did that to you. You didn't have to do that."
"Well, it was either pay or leave you on the table for the cops."
I put my face in my hands and groaned. Finally I calmed a bit.
"So what brings you around here?"
"Well, that man and I back there are just passing through. We're on a job."
"What kinda job?"
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, so let's just leave it at that."
"Alright." I turned my head and looked out the window at the passing trees. The long stretch of a road was quite scenic.
"It's right up here." I told him.
Finally, we pulled up into my dirt driveway and I got out of the car.
"I can't thank you enough for what you did. If I was you I would have left me." I said.
"Well, I've been there quite a few times myself." He smiled."Hey listen, while my brother and I are in town why don't you take my number in case you need anything else."
"Oh, no, I think you've done enough, Dean."
"C'mon, I insist." He scribbled down his numbers on a piece of paper and handed it to me through the window.
I waved it in the air. "Take care, Dean."
"You too, princess. And learn to hold your liquor." He winked and started pulling out of the driveway. I chuckled and walked into my house.
I had left the windows open and papers were strewn everywhere. I bent down and started picking them up when a pair of shoes in front of me stopped me. I looked up and met the eyes of a woman, smiling down at me.
"Well, well. I thought I smelled Winchesters. Turns out it was this skank who was hanging out with them." She laughed and three other figures walked into sight.
"Do I know you?"I asked, standing and started backing away.
"No. But you don't need to."
I walked away from her but I ran into something hard. I looked up and saw a very massive man standing in front of my door. I let out a cry and ran for the open window but the man gripped my hair and yanked me back. I cried out in pain and his massive arms wrapped around my body. His hand gripped my face and tilted my head back.
The woman started walking towards us and something happened. She started turning into something. Her teeth sharpened, her eyes changed to a vicious green, and she brought her hand up to my face and I saw long nails stretching from her fingers.
I let out a scream but the brute holding me covered my mouth, muffling it.
"Where are the Winchesters?" The woman asked, pressing a nail to my skin.
I started crying out of pure terror and panic. I squirmed under his grasp but I couldn't pry loose.
A sharp pain exploded from my shoulder. She had sliced her nail into my skin and I screamed in pain.
"Where are the Winchesters, bitch?"
The brute took his hand away from my mouth.
"Go to Hell." I said.
"Oh honey, I'm going to someplace far worse. Now," She pressed her nail up against my throat, "Where are the Winchesters?"
"I don't know."
She dug it into my skin, drawing blood. I yelped in pain.
"Fine. Since you're so stubborn we'll just get this over with."
She moved her hand above my heart.
"What are you doing?" I asked, breathing heavy.
"Well, we're Werewolves. And we eat human hearts, sweetheart." She smiled as she dug her nails slowly into my chest. I could feel them breaking the skin, and I cried out in agony. The pain was blinding. Suddenly, I heard another voice.
"Hey, bitch."
The woman recoiled her fingers and smiled.
"Winchester. I was wondering when you'd show up." She said, smiling as she turned away from me.
"Let her go." He said, his voice deep and demanding. He pointed a gun at the woman.
"Or what? You'll kill me? Honey, it's just you."
Dean smiled tauntingly. "Think again, bitch."
The man holding me dropped to the ground and released me. I saw, who I assumed was Sam, standing behind the massive figure.
"(Y/N), go!" Dean yelled to me.
I didn't hesitate. I ran out the front door and toward- where was I supposed to go? I decided to hide in their Impala.
I got in the backseat and coiled myself into a ball. I covered my head and waited for everything to be over.
Finally, a I heard the Impala's door open. A hand touched me and I panicked. I started kicking.
"Ow, hey, HEY!" I stopped when I heard it was Dean. "Hey are you alright?" He asked.
"No! I am NOT alright! What the Hell was that? She had claws! Nothing ordinary has claws!" I gasped and covered my head in my hands.
He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me out of the car.
"Listen. Those things in there, they were Werewolves. My brother and I, we're hunters. That's our job. To hunt down things like that and kill them."
"Dean I think, I think she's still a little traumatized." Sam said.
"You guys hunt those things?"
Dean nodded.
"So- so monsters are real? Like, Vampires and shit like that?"
"I'm afraid so."
"Now what? Now what am I supposed to do? My home's covered in bodies and I'm not entirely safe. She said she could smell, Winchester on me." I took deep breathes.
"She could smell us on you?" Dean asked.
"You're the Winchesters?" I started taking steps away from them. "Oh ho, you two are bad news. I need to go." I tried running but Dean gripped my arm.
"Where're you gonna go? Those things, they always remember scent. Now, they've got yours. And, your scent is mixed with ours."
"So what're you saying? I have nowhere to go?" I asked.
"You can stay with my brother and I for now."
"Dean!" Sam protested.
"C'mon, Sam! She's on every monster's kill list now. She's safer with us."
"Thanks, but no thanks. I just met you! Let alone almost died because of you! I think I'm good, thanks."
"You're not safe alone."
"I think I can handle myself."
"Really? 'Cause it sure didn't look like that when I walked in."
I sighed and rubbed my arms. If these things remember scent, then I really wasn't safe.
"Fine. I'll stay with you and your brother for now until we figure out how to fix this."
Dean nodded and looked to Sam.
"Our job isn't easy so you need to do everything we tell you if you want to be safe, understand?" Dean asked.
I nodded. I looked back toward my house and cursed myself for ever going to the bar that night.
I entered the Impala and buckled my seat belt. There was an uncomfortable silence so I closed my eyes. My dreams were filled with nothing but Werewolves.