A/N: So chapter Two, song is Burn it to the ground by Nickelback. It's taken me a while surprisingly to get this up, I hope you guys don't mind. Hope you like it. Read and Review.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or the boys, I only own Caleb and Siren. I wish I did own them. There'd be less clothes worn if I did.
Episode Two: Burn It To The Ground
Eyelids cracked open, bleary hazel eyes, adjusted slightly to the light escaping the minimal defences set up by cheap motel curtains. One stray black curl hung over her forehead, brushing against the bridge of a nose, lightly dusted with almost imperceptible freckles. A small groan escaped her mouth as rosebud lips parted and the bridge of that nose scrunched up in annoyance.
Phee swatted the stray curl away from her face as she stretched and rolled over in the motel bed beneath clean if too over-starched sheets. She cracked one eye open to take in the neon green numbers blaring back at her that it was 6:00 am. She groaned before swinging bare lightly tanned legs from beneath the sheets and setting her feet on the cold floor.
Her toes flexed involuntarily as she rubbed her face with her hand, trying to wake up a bit more. She stretched her arms over her head, her back cracking from sleeping on a too hard mattress, her muscles bunching and stretching beneath the baggy, faded old Metallica t-shirt she wore. It was her fathers once, she slept in it still, it lost the scent of him a while ago now, but it didn't lose the memories it drew from her barely conscious mind when she woke every morning, or when she fell into bed late at night after a long hunt.
Memories of waking up in the morning to freshly cooked waffles and bacon, to a grinning father brandishing orange juice at her and her younger brother, Caleb. Divulging the tale of his most recent hunt, blow by blow for the younger sibling and the lore behind the hunt for her. Memories of a laughing father as she cut him off with a stern reprimand for letting that week's fugly get too close.
She stood then, tired of remembering, tired of longing for him to come back, for him to turn up somewhere alive. Tired of hoping for him to walk in the door and give her one of his bear hugs and say sorry for being away for too long.
She stumbled her way to the shower in the small motel room, ignoring the softly snoring form of her best friend in the second bed, and the loudly snoring form of her younger, albeit bigger, brother comatose on the trolley bed the motel had provided for him. The door closed and locked behind her, she turned the shower on, letting the water heat up a bit before she got in.
She stripped, throwing the underwear to the tile floor, her fathers shirt being folded, almost reverently and placed on the cracked formica counter top before she stepped under the warm spray. She let the water run over her hair, over her shoulders and neck, letting the water release the stress she had been almost too afraid to release.
She stayed there for a few moments before washing properly. Shampooing her long thick hair, conditioning it also didn't take too long, as much hair as she had. She finished soon after, turning the shower off and getting out, wrapping a not-so-fluffy towel around her body.
She brushed her curly mane, tying it back in a ponytail, drying off quickly. She wrapped the towel around her again, heading into the motel room proper, grabbing some clothes from her bag quickly. She dressed, keeping quiet, a pair of jeans, her favourite cut, tight but comfortable and a simple longsleeve midnight blue shirt. A pair of socks and black lowcut converse completed the outfit.
Phee left the bathroom, picking up her old, beaten up brown leather motorcycle jacket, breathing in the comforting smell of old leather before grabbing her wallet, cell phone and her car and room keys before heading out the door, leaving her brother a note as to where she went.
Meanwhile
"C'mon Dean, just be okay, please," muttered a tall dark haired guy, around 23 or so, his hands kneading each other as he sat impatiently in one of the hard orange plastic chairs. His left leg was jiggling impatiently, worried brown eyes watching for the kind black man that was his brothers doctor.
"Mr. Berkovitz?" he asked looking down at his file. "Yes! Yes, is, um, is he gonna be okay?" asked the tall young man jumping to his feet running one of his large hands through his shaggy brown hair.
"The electrocution triggered a heart attack, a pretty massive one I'm afraid, it's um, it's damaged." The doctor looked at him sadly. "How damaged?" asked the younger man worriedly. "We can keep him comfortable at this stage, but I give him a couple of weeks, a month at most," the doctor replied apologetically.
"No, no, no, there's gotta be something you can do, some kind of treatment," replied the younger man in an agitated upset manner. "We can't work miracles, I really am sorry," the doctor did look saddened by the news. "oh, okay," replied the younger man, rushing off to his brothers bedside.
The kind black doctor sighed and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose, it always burned to lose someone so young, especially after hearing that the two young men he was dealing with had saved the lives of two local children. His broad shoulders drooped under his white lab coat and he headed off to his next patiens room.
Meanwhile
Phoenix unlocked the motel room, carrying a couple plastic bags and a large cardboard drinks tray containing coffee. A grunt sounded from the kitchenette table where her half awake brother sat, blinking at her blearily.
"'Bout time," he cracked a grin. She smiled back lightly, placing the coffee and food on the table. "Where's Siren?" she asked him her forehead scrunching in concern. Caleb nodded his head to the bathroom door, where a toilet could be heard flushing and out came a freshly showered and dressed Siren.
Her pretty blue eyes were shadowed and she moved carefully. She smiled a tiny bit when she saw Caleb's blonde hair poking out every which way as he dug into his bacon and eggs Phee had bought. She walked over and sat next to him at the table. Phee smiled slightly at her best friend and handed her a Styrofoam cup of black coffee and a cardboard box containing waffles.
Siren nodded and started eating lightly. Phee sat down then, taking her own food, a Bacon and Egg Bagel and a coffee and started chewing. After a while of silent chewing she opened her mouth. "So, where to next?" she questioned as the others were chewing thoughtfully. "We could give Bobby a call and see if he has any jobs going?" asked Caleb. Siren nodded slightly, "or Ellen," she added. Phee nodded, thinking.
"I was thinking... maybe we could, y'know, take a couple weeks off, maybe go to LA, see some sights," she replied looking at the table. "Um, yeah, I suppose so, I mean, we could like hit some clubs and stuff," replied Caleb. Siren looked between them suspiciously. "Is something going on I should know about?" she asked chewing on a piece of waffle before cutting another.
"Nope, just, I really just wanna break, y'know," replied Phee popping her 'p' in 'nope'. "I mean, we've been searching for Dad for almost a year now, and I mean, we haven't found anything yet, so I wanna go blow off some steam, and I think LA's the place to do it," she reasoned. "Yeah, alright then," replied Siren.
She raised her fork to her mouth, a piece of waffle, covered in syrup on it. She went to go shove it in her mouth but the piece was too big and half of it hit the side of her mouth and cheek instead. She looked surprised and chewed the giant piece of waffle with a look of intense concentration on her face.
Whilst Phee and Caleb were practically wetting themselves with laughter. Once she choked down the waffle with some help from her coffee, she grinned. "LA it is!" she exclaimed, the others cheered and clunked their coffee cups together grinning.
Meanwhile
Sam had just walked into Deans room, where he was lying in a hospital bed, looking like crap, flicking through the channels on the TV with a remote. "Have you ever really watched daytime TV, it's terrible," Dean remarked, eyes trained on the screen, Sam sighed.
"I talked to your doctor," started Sam, Dean ignored him, "that fabric softener teddy bear, I'm gonna hunt that little bitch down," he remarked, flicking the channel. "Dean," started Sam, "Yeah, well, looks like your gonna leave town without me," replied Dean, turning off the TV and dropping the remote on his bed.
Sam looked astounded, "What are you talking about, I'm not gonna leave you here," he replied looking confused. "Hey, you take care of my car, or I swear I'll haunt your ass," Sam looked annoyed, "I don't think that's funny," Dean smirked a little, "Come on, it's a little funny." Sam looked down and shifted; Dean blinked and shifted also, "Look Sammy what am I supposed to say man? It's a dangerous gig, and I drew the short straw, that's it, end of story."
Sam's head snapped round, "don't talk like that okay, we still have options." Dean looked at him incredulously, "What options? We've got burial or Cremation," He looked down sadly. "I know it's not easy but, I'm gonna die, and you can't stop it," He shrugged. Sam's bottom lip trembled and his face shifted from upset, to determined, "watch me."