AN: Wow, four chapters so far. ^_^ This would have taken longer to post, but Millie-Winks was so sweet to reply, so we get another chapter already! It's amazing how that works. :D Also, super huge thanks to MissGuenever for the review as well. Here we go:
Sam stretched in the darkness, blinking sleepily as he yawned. It was early; his body was saying around 6-ish, and last night's sleep wasn't exactly perfect. Dean grunted in the dark from his right, a pause before his deep breathing started up again. Sam fumbled under his pillow, pulling out his cell phone and flipping it open, using the tiny screen as a light. Dean was stretched out on his stomach, half-buried under pillows and quilts, face smooth and lax in the deep sleep.
He pushed himself off the bed, tossing on sweats and a tee as he made his way to the bathroom. He really wanted to go back to bed, sleep some more in the white enveloping softness that smelled of sunshine, but his body was too used to getting up. Sam set his bag on the bed, a sign to Dean that he was awake and wandering around, and slid his phone into his pocket.
As he eased the door shut, he had a brief thought that maybe their host wasn't awake yet. He paused, and started to step down the hall to check when he heard a soft woof beside him. The dimly lit hall revealed nothing, but he could feel a presence standing beside him. A heavy breathing about mid-thigh, and he eased his hands down, frowning as they encountered invisible, cold fur. A tongue licked his fingers, and he could feel the thing move towards the stairs. Shrugging, he followed.
Autumn's voice was soft, but not hushed, as it trailed down the hall. He could see the warm glow of the kitchen, and he sighed appreciatively as he smelled coffee. "No, I'm not worried about the Hunters." A pause, and a soft laugh. "Because I'm hoping that their honor is more than their hatred of witches." Another pause, and he wondered if she was on the phone. "I doubt Dean will want to stay any later than necessary, so they'll probably head out before noon. Oh, have you heard from Mikala yet?"
He turned into the kitchen, and paused. She wasn't on the phone. And there was no one in the kitchen. The furry thing led ahead of him, and barked softly. "Hey Nateas!" She turned, and dusted floury hands on her shirt. "Sam. I wasn't expecting you up already. Is everything okay?"
"Yeah. Who were you talking to?" He glanced around the kitchen again, but there was still nothing. She offered a sheepish smile.
"Sorry...was I too loud?" She was absently making a petting motion about waist high, and he couldn't help the cold prickle that ran down his spine.
"No...I just sorta woke up, and decided to stay up. I opened the door, and there's something laying outside the door...it led me up here. And then you're talking to yourself." Even he could hear the wary tone in his voice. She smiled, and motioned to the coffee pot that held the dark brew.
"Sit down Sam. It's okay...I told you and your brother...I run a half-way house of sorts. Do you want some coffee? I can make some tea if you'd rather." He blinked, but nothing was really out of place. That sense of something there, but just out of view persisted, but his gut insisted there was no danger here, so he pulled out a chair and sat.
"Sure. Coffee's fine. What kind of half-way house?"
She set a mug in front of him, and opened the fridge. "I promise, I'll explain in a minute. Let me finish these rolls, and we'll talk, okay? Cream, sugar, syrup of any kind?"
The large presence laid down by his feet with a huff and a grumble, and he winced, expecting toes to be bitten. But nothing happened. He sighed, pressing his fingers to his eyes, and nodded. "What do you have?"
She laughed softly, and shook her head. "What don't I have? Vanilla, English Toffee, Hazelnut, Butterscotch, Caramel, Chocolate Mint...actually, that one's pretty good. Want me to keep going? I've even got Pineapple Upside Down."
"Ugh. Just the vanilla, thanks." She set the glass bottle down beside him, pushing the small pitcher of cream and a bowl of sugar closer to him before turning back to the mass on the counter. She hummed a bit, voice slowly starting to sing quietly as she kneaded the dough. "Oh, let the sun beat down upon my face."
"Kashmir?" She turned her head to glance at him, smiling.
"Oh, a Zeppelin fan huh?"
He pushed his chair back, still unnerved by the breathing on his feet, and leaned against the counter, watching her work. "No, I don't think fan is quite the word you want. Dean loves them though." She started to press the dough flat, squaring it out, and he cocked his head. "What are you doing?"
"Cinnamon rolls. It takes a bit, but I wasn't really sleeping well anyway. Speaking of, how did you do last night? Sleep okay?"
"Yes, thank you. It was a bit odd to be able to sleep without hearing cars all night." He grinned, and tipped his head towards the dough. "Anything I can do to help?"
"Oh, I won't turn down help, not if you've offered! Can you grab the melted butter in the microwave, and the sugar off the table?" He set the mug on the counter as he started to move, and she chuckled. "Yeah, I remember Mikala complaining loudly about that on occasion. She adores the sound of traffic. One reason I loved this house...so far back from the road. And then under the bunker? Not a peep." She slathered the butter on the dough, dusting it heavily with sugar before opening a jar of cinnamon and layering that thickly over top.
"Mikala?"
"Mmm. Can you get the pans for me? They're under the stove...two of the round ones should do it." She started rolling the dough up again, packing it tightly as she worked. "She's my sister." He sprayed the pans, setting them beside her as she dusted off her hands and grabbed a knife, cutting the dough deftly.
"She travel a lot?" Autumn chuckled, setting the rolls into the pans neatly.
"You could say that. She never was content in one place long." She set the pans on the stove, covering them with a towel, and refilled her mug before settling in at the table. Sam took the cue, taking his spot again. Still, the warm steady breath ghosted across his feet.
"Okay, what is that on the floor?" He resisted the urge to pull his feet up, but just barely.
"That's Nateas. She won't hurt you, unless you mean me harm." She smiled sadly, glancing in the next room briefly. "She was my dog...a mastiff-Rottweiler mix. Gods, but she was huge. She's one of my 'guests' now, you could say."
"And by guest...."
"I mean ghost."
He paused, watching her. She didn't smirk, or laugh, or even smile. Just took a steady drink of her coffee, eyes watchful. "You're not kidding."
"No Sam. That's the reason I want a promise from Hunters that they won't harm my guests. All spirits that are in this house are benevolent. They know they're dead, but they haven't moved on yet. That's why they're here...I help them figure out why they're still here, what they need to do to go peacefully."
"And you can see them?" His own eyes had yet to see one, but that explained the prickly feeling that ghosted along his nerves.
"Yes. I have since I was little. I was talking to Andrew earlier...he keeps an eye on Mikala for me. It's really not that different from what you and Dean do, Sam. I just don't salt and burn."
They sat in easy silence for several minutes, Sam starting to doze lightly as the quiet peace of the house soothed him. He startled as Autumn chuckled and stood. "If you'd like, you can go back to bed. It's only about six-thirty."
"No, I'm good. I'd just lay awake and stare at the ceiling." She shook her head as she checked on the rolls, and quickly put them in the oven. "Usually, I'd be doing research, but my laptop is in the Impala, and we already know what we're up against here."
"Alright. My home is your home while you're here...don't hesitate to make yourselves comfortable." She snapped her fingers, and he heard and felt the dog clamber to her feet. "We're going out to the chicken coop. You're welcome to come along, or you can stay here if you'd rather. I'd offer to run you down to get your car, but I'm sure Dean wouldn't appreciate that."
Sam chuckled wryly at the thought of Dean waking up alone in the house, with Sam behind the wheel of the Impala. "No, not at all." He grabbed his coffee as he stood, following her into the laundry room that led outside.
"Oh, I almost forgot. Here's your clothes, just take the basket when you're ready. I would have set them by the door, but Nateas just loves clean clothes. She would have them strung all over the hall."