Hi everyone, short installment this time, but I loved writing every bit of chapter 2 (the other half is coming soon), and I hope you like it too!
Sitting in the backseat of the Winchesters's Impala, I felt the tiredness of the last months catch up to me. Hiding the small panic attack I had inside the diner had sapped the last of my energy.
I was a mess. I knew that.
Normal people don't have an extra voice in their heads, Amy. The other me inside piped up, always very helpful... Not.
As if I don't know that. The truth was, though, that I was justified. After what happened two years ago I... I had been in pieces. My father and the Men of Letters had forced me to see a psychiatrist, and I had gotten better, but not by much and mostly I had gotten better at hiding the cracks.
I tried to stay awake, as I didn't trust them not to wake me up when I was all good and trussed up, but the car smelled of leather, gunpowder and men, and I just couldn't keep my eyes open anymore. I wouldn't be able to sleep long anyway.
I woke up a few minutes later, but decided to pretend to be still asleep when I heard the men in the front seat talking softly, but animatedly. Keeping my breathing regular and deep and my eyes closed, I listened.
"What the Hell, Sammy!?"
"I'm just saying, if what she says checks out..."
"Then what? We pack up and go live in Europe?"
"If what she says is true it would only be for a few months, Dean. And we really may be able to change things, not just for us but for other hunters, too"
"She wants us to play politicians, Sam. I'm no politician."
"Look, I'm not saying we just believe her, jump on the first plane and... What?"
"Plane. Why have us go all the way to Rome? It might be a trap. I say we dump her somewhere while she sleeps."
"Seriously? This is your problem with this? A plane ride?"
"No!" Too quick there, Winchester... So, the big bad hunter had a very normal fear of flying. I filed the information away. "I don't trust her, how could we know nothing about the Men of Letters in Europe? We've been living in that bunker for four years!"
"And we never looked for evidence of more of them being around!"
"In four years we never stumbled on ONE piece of information that even hinted at the existence of more members"
"It makes sense, Dean. How many were there at Henry's time? Six? Seven? They could never have traveled all over the world, to collect the stuff in the bunker. Honestly I wondered about that."
"I'm sorry, you seriously believe her?"
"Dean, I'm not saying we just go along with whatever she says. There's two of them, so we can see if they tell the same story, and if they do, there must be at least one file in the bunker that hints at the Men of Letters here not being alone."
"And then what? Even if she is telling the truth, then what do we do? Just pack up and leave? There are people here who need us."
"Who, Dean? Cass is an Angel. Jody and the girls are fine. Charlie is dead… hell, almost everyone we know is dead!"
I heard the oldest curse under is breath. Then: "You want to do this, don't you? Become a Man of Letters, go study, whatever."
Samuel hesitated, and when his voice came it was softer. "Yes. If this checks out, I think it could be a good thing." He cleared his throat, the went on. "But I don't want to do it without you, Dean."
"Well, you're not. You're not going anywhere alone, Sammy. I don't trust her."
"Yeah, well, I don't either, but let's give her the benefit of the doubt, for now." Good enough. We have a week to convince them. And, worst case scenario, we can always play the bonus card. You know they will say yes.
And become completely useless.
Bullshit. They will still be respected. And we'll get one more.
Maybe. "Look, Dean, all I'm saying is, let's see what we can figure out. Worse comes to worst, are can always have Cass scrub their memories." A pause. I appreciated that Sam, at least, wasn't planning murder me and dump my body somewhere, but I was pretty sure that was Dean's back up plan. "We're almost back at the bunker. Let's wake her up."
A second later I felt a hand that could double as a shovel shaking my shoulder and I pretended to wake up, just as the Impala slowed down. Time to introduce them to George, Amy… Oh, we'll enjoy that!
The bunker looked much like the ones I had visited in Europe, and while it was a lot smaller than the ones in Oslo and Athens, it was bigger than most of the more recent ones.
I had had time to explore it in the last couple of months, while Sam and Dean where out hunting, and while my brother had focused on the archives and the vaults, I had paid more attention to the common areas and the private rooms.
The kitchen had been updated with a state-of-the-art fridge, a microwave and coffee machine, hell, they even brought in one of those espresso machines with the capsules. The common area and the library were spotless.
Of the ten bedrooms in the lower level only three showed signs of people living in them, all of them clean and kept in perfect order, the third probably belonged to the angel Castiel. I had thought angels didn't need such earthly comforts, and I doubted he had brought in the stuff for himself. It was interesting that they had feathered the nest for him too, bought a telly, posters and pictures of places from all around the world.
Their care of the bunker had made me like them. When I came here I respected them because I had read the reports on their jobs and on how many times they sacrificed themselves to save the world. I had been hoping that they would be what I was looking for, but seeing the kitchen and the angel's bedroom… that won me over.
We already liked them, Amy. We got pictures of them. They look like greek gods. Trust me, we liked them.
Shut up.
Oh, com'on. We had more fun when you were crazier. That was the moment when, just as I was crossing the door between the garage and the rest of the bunker, one of them grabbed me and knocked me out.
I wasn't even surprised, I knew they would do something like that.