Chapter 6: Have a Drink on Me
Author's Note: Hello! At the moment I am currently on break and it feels like Frozone's armpit in Illinois. I am really sorry about lack of updates, I PROMISE I will get better haha
The screaming. It still is echoing in my mind as I force my hands into the walls of the bathroom stall. Those eyes are haunting my conscious mind. A soft knock on the stall makes me jump.
"You in there?" I hear Dean's voice on the other side of the door.
"Yes." I stutter out.
"You wanna talk about it?" he asks.
"There's nothing to talk about." I turn around and unlock the door and see him leaning against the sinks. He has his arms crossed around his chest and is staring blankly at me. I wipe my mouth and go to the sink, but he stands in my way and tries to read my face. I try to move to the side, but he moves along with me. I stop and look down and he hands me a piece of gum. I nod my gratitude and wash my hands.
"Don't insult me." Dean says while he grabs paper towels for me. I grab the towels from him.
"Why would I do that?" I mutter, looking at my drying hands.
"Let's grab a bite to eat. You have to be hungry now." I stand there as he opens the door and we look at each other for a second. Finally, I walk out of the door.
The smell of a diner will always be a comfort to me. I used to come to our local diner almost every Saturday and on my birthday. Sam, Dean, and I take a seat in the farthest booth from everyone else. Dean orders a bacon cheeseburger and I follow suit because I am suddenly extremely hungry.
"So, what was the dream about?" Sam blurts out. I stop the burger midway and sit it down. I sigh.
"It was about my Mom, alright? I relived the accident. Like, almost exactly."
"Almost?" Dean interjected. I look up at him and Sam seeing that they hadn't touched their food.
"You guys will think I'm crazy." I chuckle as I take a bite of my burger.
"Try us." Sam said.
"You guys are hunters, right?" I start. "You've seen demons, ghosts?" They nod together and start to frown. "Well…I think I saw one in there."
"What did you see, Claire?" Dean groaned.
"My mother's eyes were black." I become annoyed. "She grabbed my hands when I reached out to her corpse and she started screaming some high-pitched garbage." The boys hardly changed their demeanor.
"Have you ever seen her like that in your dreams?" Dean became intrigued. I shake my head.
"The thing is, it felt like I was reliving it. I felt my body being crushed by the windshield and glass cutting me. I even felt her hands on my wrists. I've never felt like this before. I only ever felt like I was hovering over the accident, not living it all over again."
"Do you remember what she said?" Sam said.
"No, it was too painful to listen to. It hurts my head. It wasn't English, that's for sure." I lean back as I take one last bite. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say it was Latin." That made the boys look up from the table. I place my head in my hands and start shaking the sound from my mind. "Why would I dream that my mother was a monster?" Sam's hands reached for mine and slowly guided them back to the table.
"It's okay, Claire. No one can control their dreams. It has to be normal to have nightmares about traumatic events. Hell, Dean and I have them all the time." Sam chuckled and Dean made an agreeing face as he took a drink of coffee.
"It's been ten years, why is it still happening?" I groaned.
"Things like that you don't just 'get over', Claire. You learn to cope. What takes someone two months to cope can take someone two years, depending on the situation." Dean rested his arm on the back of the booth and sighed. He stopped mid-sigh and looked over at me. "Still?" he asked. "Have you seen your mother like that before?"
Damn. I thought to myself. "No, it's not the first time."
"How involved were you in your Dad's hunting?" Dean asked.
"Never even fired a gun. I mean, I have, but not at anyone." I retorted before a sip of coffee. The boys looked less than impressed. "I really would love to hunt with you guys."
"No offense, but why the hell would you want that?" Sam asked.
"After my Dad died, I had absolutely no one. I was always the one helping him with leads and researching day in and out so he knew what he was doing and where he was going. Despite that, I felt useless. All I did was read or type on a computer. I never saved his life, nor did I do anything vastly important. I want to live my life knowing I was able to save someone. Even if it's just one." I hold my breath and look at the boys through my eyelashes.
"I'll call Bobby to see if he has anything." Sam looks at his phone and leaves the booth. Once he's gone, I look at Dean to see him looking at me.
"What?" I suddenly feel self-conscious. He shifts to face me.
"Why do you have this need to prove yourself?" he narrows his eyes as I fiddle with my fingers.
"I just told you. I don't want to be a bump on a log anymore."
"You know there are safer ways to make a difference." Dean scoffed. "But, you seem like the kind of girl who is arrogant, stubborn, a hard-ass, and won't take 'no' for an answer." I turn towards him and he puts his guard up as if I'm about to slap him. I consider it. "But, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't the same way. You just have this…light and naïve-ness to you. Like an innocence." I finally look up at him and he nudges me to get off the booth. I listen to him and he follows me. Once we are standing in front of the booth, he reaches in his pocket and takes out a necklace. The necklace has a black chain with a small clear jar attached to it. Inside the jar is a white crystal-like substance. "It's salt." He notices my confusion. "Demons hate it and will stall them for a few moments, which is much more than you'll probably need because you won't be far from us anyway."
"Wait. You mean…I can hunt with you?" I take the necklace.
"We will start with small stuff to give you a little taste of the life." He replied and turned me around once he noticed that I'm struggling.
"We'll be here for hours." His warm hands take me by surprise as they wrap around my neck to reach for the chain. I hand it to him and he quickly clasps it. He turns me back around and guides me out of the diner.
Once I start the car, Sam slaps the phone shut and sighs.
"Got anything?" Dean asked. Sam turned to face Dean who is sitting in the backseat.
"Well, Bobby said that there is a lead in St. Louis, which isn't far from here and is on our way to our car."
"What kind of lead?" Dean asks.
"So, get this," Sam chuckles. "He said there have been people calling the police very recently reporting stolen…you ready for this? Dolls." I turn the music down all the way and frown.
"You mean like Chucky?" I ask. Sam nods.
"Well, that's just great. We got a Barbie Bandit. How do we know its supernatural and not just some creep with a fetish?" Dean has the most annoyed look on his face at this point.
"Because the dolls appear to be returning to the same house they were reportedly stolen from. But, that's not the weirdest part, once the dolls are returned, they seem to take a life of their own. The people also report the dolls moving and even one woman had her hair pulled." Sam pulled out a map and started to guide me to Missouri.
"Do you even have the materials for this hunt, Claire?" Dean asked.
"You mean, she's going to help us hunt?" Sam asked worriedly.
"Yes. Now returning to my original question."
"I'm not sure. I mainly have artillery and what you saw in the trunk." I reply.
"Well, if this is just a possession, we should be okay." Dean answered. "But, first things first: we gotta teach Claire here how her little toys work."
Author's Note: Please review and I'm super ultra mega sorry about the hiatus!