We pull up to civilization once more after dark, we reach a dingy motel and Dean checks us in. The bearded guy behind the counter looks at me funny when Dean asks for just one room. Dean had asked me in the car if I'm okay with sharing a room with them or if I wanted my own room. I don't like the idea of being alone in a strange place at night so I said I didn't mind sharing a room. By the looks of things, they don't seem to earn much from hunting so I don't want to add burden to them either.
I carry my duffel into the room that smells like the one I woke up in. I guess I just have to get used to it, there are no 5 star hotels here. The room has one small coffee table and two chairs next to the door and only two beds. I put my bag down and explore the small room. It has a decent bathroom, not too covered in slime but a stale smell all the same.
Sam closes the door behind him and Dean sits at the table with the laptop. I offer to sleep on the floor but Sam insists I take a bed. After a full day stuck in the car with them, I gather that Sam is the more considerate and hospitable of the two. Dean carries an air of confidence and leadership from which I can deduce that he is older than Sam. Sam is more serious than Dean, softer and kinder but with a touch of seriousness in almost everything he says.
We shed our jackets and leave only two layers of clothing on and I settle on the bed cross-legged to watch them as they work. I watch as they discuss what to do the next morning when they go to the crime scene and read reports on the deaths.
"So this guy has his throat slashed in his own home? Is there any sign on breaking in? Struggles?"
"No signs of forced entry. The victim is alone at home so there is no eye witness to the murder."
"So we're going to the site tomorrow?"
"Yeah, but what are we gonna do with her? We can't bring her there."
"Bring me where?" I ask.
"To the murder site," Dean answers. "Unless you can help and don't mind some blood and gore."
"So long as the body is not there, I'm fine," I say.
"Don't you worry about that, the police would've taken it in for post mortem already. So we can bring her, then," Dean decides, looking at Sam.
Sam looks at me, "I don't know. It could be dangerous."
"Nah, it's daytime! Nothing much happens in daytime," Dean declares.
"Fine," Sam says. "But we need to solve her case as well."
Dean looks at me from top to toe, a scowl on my forehead as a sign of thinking. "Yeah, but we don't know where to start, do we?" I am caught by surprise when he said that so gently, so different from his usual loud sarcasm.
Dean glances at his watch and looks at me again, saying in his gentler voice, "You should get some sleep; we have an early day tomorrow."
The drive had worn me out and he doesn't have to tell me twice. I went blank as soon as I hit the pillows.
I wake up in the dark in a more comfortable environment than the one I fell asleep in. I look around, and see that I'm back in my room. I scowled, that is the weirdest dream I have ever had. I reach for my phone and look at the time. It's only just past midnight, not five minutes from when I fell asleep. I sigh and close my eyes again, trying to forget that dream that feels only too real.
The alarm clock rings after a few hours and I get up. Mum is yelling up the stairs for me to hurry up for school. I groan, not being able to forget that meaningless yet vivid dream. It's almost as if I was awake at the time.
The entire day passes by, routine things that happen on a usual Wednesday. I go to school, get bored and bullied then go home. At home, I complete my list of daily chores. After dinnertime, I'm exhausted as usual. I do some homework and get dressed for bed. I check my clock. It's midnight. I lie down and fall asleep.
"Pierce? Pierce, wake up."
I groan and turn in my bed. I feel the bright morning sun hit my face. I jolt up, I'm late for school. I throw off the sheets and jump out of bed.
"Whoa hey, there's no need to rush," someone says. It's Sam from my dream last night. So does this make it a dream? It seems so real, though.
"I thought this was all a dream," I mutter.
"What?" Dean asks as he walks out of the bathroom.
"I was back at home, I woke up," I say. "This is so weird."
"So you went back? In your sleep?" Sam inquires.
"Yeah. Or I woke up. I don't know what's what anymore," I say, shaking my head.
"We'll figure it out later," Dean says. "Right now, we need to get some breakfast and get to the murder scene."
Whilst having breakfast, Dean walks off and doesn't come back for a while.
"Where have you been?" Sam asks.
"Went to get her some basic needs, like towels, toothbrush," he says, waving the white plastic bag he had with him. "And fake IDs."
"Fake IDs?" I take the laminated cards from him. There are a few IDs, one says Pierce Winchester; another has the name, Lori Smith; and another is Haley Chang. "Why so many?"
Dean points at the one with my name on it. "This is for your 'true identity' cause you need one, we'll just say you're our sister. It'll keep the cops off for a while if you need to."
"In case you haven't noticed," I say, "I don't exactly look like I'm related. Your name's Winchester, huh? Like the gun."
"Yeah." Dean shrugs, "I guess we'll say you're adopted or something." He points to the other two and says, "These two are for when we investigate stuff, to keep from getting into trouble, y'know?" Then he winks.
"Okay," I say, dragging the 'a' sound. I pocket the IDs just when he fishes out a cellphone from his pocket.
He hands it to me, saying, "This is one of my spare phones, I'm giving it to you just in case anything happens and you need to give us a call. Sam's and my other phones are all inside so you don't have to worry about a thing."
"Thanks," I say. "You didn't have to do all this."
"Of course we do," Dean says. "We might even have to teach you how to use a gun if things go bad."
"A gun?" I ask incredulously. Both Dean and Sam shrug. "Oh, God."
We reach a large house in a large compound. There are yellow tapes going around the beams of the house, blocking any form of entry. Aside from the tape, there are no signs of policemen anywhere.
"Aren't there supposed to be police everywhere?" I ask.
"Yeah, well, they don't come too early," Dean replies. "That means we have some time before they come and we risk getting caught."
They stride up to the house and walk under the yellow tape as if the 'CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS' along them mean nothing. Dean picks the lock and we enter the house. I go in with abated breath, unsure of what to expect.
The house seems empty and everything is in order, as if nobody had just died here not too long ago. I follow closely behind them, glancing backwards every now and again. Dean is currently going everywhere waving this old CD player thing around, the lights on top of the device is light up in an orderly fashion like a heart beating. Faint beeping noises came from the device and it peaks my curiosity but I decide to hold off questions until we are safely outside.
I strained my ears to hear for any noise outside above the thumping noises of their heavy footsteps. Soon enough, my nerves gave way and I couldn't take the noise anymore. I stop walking and fall back.
"Guys, stop for a bit," I tell them, going only above a whisper.
"Is there something wrong?" Sam asks, worried.
I shake my head, "No, but your footsteps are too loud I can't tell if there are other noises."
"Noises? What noises?" Dean asks.
Then, we hear sirens and engines pull up to the house. The sound of car doors closing follows then men's voices start getting closer to the front door.
"We need to get out," Dean decides. "Check if they have a back door."
We sneak out towards the kitchen at the back as fast as we could with light steps. The chink of keys ran through the silent house.
"I hope you parked your car somewhere safe," I whisper to Dean.
"It's around the corner, they won't suspect a thing," he hisses.
I look down the hallway and see two figures behind the frosted glass. "Hurry!"
We reach the kitchen which only has a window above the sink. Dean runs and lifts the window pane and motions for me to get through it. I perch on the sink before crawling out head first. I realized my mistake too late and hit my head on the hard concrete ground three feet away. I used my hands to carry the rest of my body out none too gracefully. They poke their heads out to see if I'm okay and I wave to them from my place on the ground before clutching my hurting head. I watch Sam jump out feet first, wondering how he managed to get through the gap not more than a foot high. He finds his bearings and helps me off the ground, checking to see if my head injury is serious.
Dean comes out and closes the window quickly. He says, "I think the police saw me when I closed the window. Let's go."
We run away from the window but I hear the window slide again and stop, knowing we can't escape the police. I hiss at the two in front of me to stop running and walk like normal people. They listened to me and we walk away as if we were just having a morning stroll.
"Hey, kids!" A gruff voice calls and we turn around feigning innocence. We look at the police poking his head out of the window.
"Yes, officer?" Dean asks, smiling politely at him.
The officer looks at him hard before asking, "What are you doing here? It's private property."
"Oh sorry, officer," Dean says. "We didn't know."
The officer scowls at Dean before looking at the rest of us and I muster as much innocence as I can. Deciding that we were just a couple of playful youths that take no regards of others privacy, he lets us off with a "Don't let me catch you here again."
"Yes, sir," Dean nods. "Have a great morning, officer."
The officer huffs and closes the window. We get into the car and I burst out laughing.
"Why are you laughing?" Dean asks.
I catch my breath and manage to say, "It's funny."
"Funny? What was funny?"
"Lying to authority," I answered.
Dean grins, "Well, you seem very comfortable with it."
I shrug and say, "I do a lot of lying and sneaking around back home."
"Why? Doing shady things, are you?" Dean looks at me as he starts his car.
"No, nothing bad," I say. "Just some sneaking out at night occasionally for a party or two."
Dean grins at Sam and says, "I like this girl. She can stay."
Sam shakes his head incredulously at the both of us. "Back at the house, you told us to lighten our footsteps, why?" Sam cocks his head at me.
"Well, if you walk around stomping like an elephant, you're bound to be heard," I shrug. "It's pretty logical."
"How do you know these things?"
"Like I said, I tend to sneak around without my parents' consent," I smirk. "Some things you learn with experience."
Dean scoffs.
