H'ooooooookay, this is my second chapter for the story. I had fun writing it, but I'm not entirely sure if I want the story to be like this in the first person point of view. Please let me know if it's an enjoyable read this way, or if you think I should change the style... mainly the point of view cuz I'm still a bit iffy on it. REVIEWS ARE ALWAYS WELCOME!
Once again I do not own any of the Supernatural characters/tv show or anything affiliated with it, Eric Kripke does. I only own Gene and Haven so far. Any criticism is welcome, I simply want to know people are actually reading this otherwise there's really no point to keep going :). I would like to do another chapter and introduce my oc into the realm of the Supernatural AU. IT'S GONNA BE FUUUUUN! *ahem* anyways Enjoy!
"Well I'll be a monkey's uncle!"
"Really Gene, a monkey's uncle? That saying's like so ancient. I swear everything about you screams old man, even your name," I smoothly replied while I rolled my eyes at Gene, one of my partners in crime. He was a stout young lad who insisted on wearing a pair of ridiculously tattered suspenders with every outfit he wore. Gene always claimed they made him look 'respectable'… respectable my ass. He was a straight up hipster who couldn't fess up to it.
Gene scoffed at me, and then proceeded to serve me with a, "Now don't you get all wet coz I'm the bee's knees and you can't handle this!" At this point he began pointing at the general vicinity he was standing in. This conversation was a one way ticket to crazy town and it was well past the point of no return.
I threw my hands up in the air, and not because I wanted to sing "Ay-Oh". "Okay you're right. I can't handle all your nifty 1920's slang right now, or the fact that you're a jive turkey." And that was when everyone gasped… before breaking out into fits of laughter. I was the victor in this argument, which wasn't saying much considering how lame it had been. This is why these people were my friends, and I couldn't have been happier.
There was about 7 of us, including myself, and we were discussing the events of the last Supernatural episode that we had previously viewed not 30 minutes ago. Whenever a new episode aired, we had our group of fans who gathered in Gene's flat to watch it together. He lived with 3 other guys who all enjoyed the show and decided to band together and bring in other fellow fans to have a viewing party. Which we did, every week, and honestly… it's what kept me going.
I used to watch the show alone, until I met Gene in one of my psych classes the second semester of my freshmen year. We hit it off immediately since most of my classmates tended to shield themselves from me after they found out how old I was and that I wouldn't buy them alcohol, no matter how much they begged. I don't like being used over unhealthy substances. But Gene… Oh Gene. He was already past the age of 21 by a few months so I never had to question his motives for befriending me. It was simply because we wanted to be, and we put in the effort.
It wasn't until weeks later when we admitted our love for the show to one another, which made our friendship that much more strangely bonded. This was how the group originated as the brainchild of Gene and I, and what a beautiful child it made.
The group started with just the four boys in the flat and myself, which I then decided there was too much testosterone to be had. So I went out searching for women who would be willing to share the love with us. Now I kindly ask you to go back to the previous sentence and read it without your mind in the metaphorical gutter, and yes I did just break the fourth wall. I can't help it, I'm claustrophobic.
Fast forward to the present night and we have our group of 7 who at this time is well acquainted and we continued our weekly ritual that began a year ago in the very same flat. On this night aired the tenth episode of season 8 which was labeled "Torn and Frayed". After watching it I swore the episode would haunt me forever. I was a well-known Castiel fan, and he was once again pushed into an emotionally damaging scenario.
I remember wanting to pull my hair out and scream at the writers, "How could you do this to my baby!" But the writers don't live anywhere near me, so instead my friends had to witness my anguish. Their replies were simple eye rolls, followed by a not so comforting remark of "Get Over It" by Gene. I really do pick great friends, which leaves me to repeatedly pat myself on the back mentally.
After the episode, all Gene's responses seemed to come out as phrases of bewilderment, i.e. "Well I'll be a monkey's uncle". Naturally I had to heckle him about it, which leads us back to around 30 minutes after the episode on a Wednesday night. We were all laughing, discussing and sharing a few beers (another part of the weekly viewing experience in honor of the constant drinking that occurs in the show) while the rest of the night began to fade away. I used to despise how quickly the time would pass at that flat.
This night marked the beginning of a new semester, my second semester sophomore year to be exact. And we were all proud of our accomplishments thus far, as well as emitting a touch of melancholy at the thought of losing Gene to graduation when the semester would finish. We toasted to a new start, as well as the mid-season return of our favorite show, and eventually we had to discuss the closing of the night.
The two fellow women were always the first to leave, mainly because Gene and I tended to get into a heated debate that would last for hours after each new episode. Unfortunately that night held little time for that. Classes began early the next day and it was always necessary to be punctual at the beginning of every semester.
It wasn't until Gene's roommates began to file into their respective rooms that we became aware of the time… which if memory serves correct was well past the midnight marker.
"Oh geez, I almost got away with keeping you here until the wee hours of the morn' again", he managed to lilt out to sound somewhat Irish. A cute attempt, but it failed.
"I know, you're the only one to be able to magically keep me hostage without going against my will… wait… I think I just had a revelation. Gene… I think I have Stockholm syndrome," I proclaimed with an overly dramatic eyebrow wiggle.
He merely rolled his eyes at my remark, followed by a snide reply, "Bitch please. We all know you have that." I stuck my tongue out at him in protest. I was tired of looking for witty comebacks. Sometimes our friendship became exhausting, and at this point all I could think was bed… and pillow. Just sleep in general.
My arms began to ascend towards the heavens and hung their suspended by invisible strings as my mouth parted into a giant 'O'. It was a yawn of epic proportions, and it indicated my desperate need to leave.
"Well Eugene-y, I think I'm gonna head out now… so I can dream of you… genie." How I came up with that was explained by my overtired state and its ability to randomly produce amazingly lame sentences. So naturally I couldn't help but giggle profusely.
Gene's mouth was agape in awe at my ridiculousness, and began to sputter out random exasperated verbiage "You… what just? I don't even… go home Haven, you're drunk." Then he grabbed a hold of my arm and proceeded to walk me to the door. Opening it, he pushed me through and I was immersed into the frigid night air of January.
"N-n-n-n-ot cool G-g-g-ene," I barely managed to blurt out as my teeth began to chatter due to excessively cold winds. He smiled at my apparent discomfort, and then his expression changed to that of concern. I could tell he was getting a strange feeling about the night, I knew all too well what would be said next.
"Sorry I threw you out so fast, but you really should get home now. And Haven," his eyes were boring into mine at this point. "Stay safe okay? Text me when you get to your dorm room." It was here that I nodded in agreement, and he slowly shut the door behind me as I began my long trudge back to the girl's dormitories. Gene was always concerned for me whenever I would leave their flat late at night. He used to insist on walking me back to my dorm when I'd leave, but when the winter time would come I stubbornly refused his common courtesies.
I remember thinking to myself that night as I walked back, how Gene was a very rare breed of good guy. Many who knew us used to think that we were dating, or that we should be. Our replies usually resounded in an instant "EWWWW GROOOOSSS". While he may have been a gentleman, and I a lady or something, it never crossed our minds that we should date. Nor were we the typical brother/sister type of relationship, simply just friends. He was the only one at first to really know most of my past, and the only one to really bring me to a point where I could be myself again. Through our friendship, my open book nature was reimagined. And as far as dating goes, I just… didn't. Gene used to tell me it was because I was intimidating. I had a past that still brought baggage, even if most of it was dealt with, and young boys in college don't know how to go about treating a woman.
I smiled at the thought of his words and continued to walk past the parking lot up the long stretch of hill before I finally caught sight of the dorms. When I saw the building I bolted for it. Anything to get out of that terrible, chilly, nasty weather. It wasn't until I reached the side of the building when I began to hear a low buzzing noise. At first I figured it had been someone's speakers being blown in their room, or maybe a malfunctioning hairdryer. Then I turned my head and saw something I would never forget.
My room just so happens to be on the first floor and from my vantage point I could see directly into my room. But it wasn't what was in the room that caught my breath there was actually nothing of importance in the room at all. It was the image that was painted on my window. There was a sigil… a portal sigil… the very same from episode 15 Season 6 of Supernatural "the French Mistake". And it was… humming… and glowing. All I could think was, okay this is the most amazing prank the girls could ever try to pull on me. So I got closer in order to admire the details I believed they had put into it.
The next thing I remember of that night was being engulfed by intensely blinding light, with one final thought. Dear God what have I done.