The next day at work was a nightmare. They'd called in someone else to help Ben on the shifts he usually shared with Terry - someone even less competent, if that was possible. The kid was afraid of his own shadow, and terrified of cars.
Ben stayed far, far away from the blood car. Theoretically, all of the blood had been carefully wiped off and examined by police officers, and the car was clean. Ready to be fixed and returned to its psychopathic owner, who didn't seem to care that a kid had died on its slick red surface.
But all Ben could think of was the way Terry's blood had crept across the slick surface, turning the crevasse of bare metal into careful painted perfection. It made him think How much of that paint is blood if whoever scratches it pays for repairs with their life? Even Ben The Boring, as he'd been christened by the workers here, scratched a car sometimes. You just couldn't not.
A shadow fell over him and Ben startled, throwing an elbow into the gut of the man leaning over him.
There wasn't much gut to the man, a skinny, kiddish sort of person with crinkled eyes. He jumped backwards, waving his hands in surrender. "Hey, hey, man, everything's A-O-Kay."
Ben put his wrench down, not realizing that he'd been holding it threateningly. The man smiled. Held up a badge. "Agent Smith, FBI. But you can call me Garth."
Ben crossed his arms. "I already told the police. I didn't hear anything. Didn't see anything. I was arguing with Mrs. Masters about the quality of her brakes-"
"I know, I know." The man said, chuckling. "I was just going to ask a few routine questions."
The voice in the back of Ben's head gave him a few colourful opinions on how useful the FBI was.
Of course, it added. If they're not FBI, they can actually be quite useful.
Ben scowled, more to the voice than the agent. "Fine."
The agent took out a piece of paper, propped it on the back of his badge. "Did you feel any cold spots during the day that day?"
"What kind of a question is that?"
"A routine one, like I said." The agent laughed nervously. "Gotta tick those boxes."
The phrase sounded a little too familiar to Ben. And he couldn't pinpoint why, but he lied through his teeth. "No, no cold spots."
Garth nodded, shifted. "What about strange smells? Any sulphur, smells like-"
"Rotten eggs, I know. I passed high school science." Ben said. Picked up his wrench again. "Now, if you don't mind, I have a car to fix."
Garth muttered something under his breath, something about Ben reminding him of an old friend. Ben ignored him, and started pounding away at the engine again.
Well. Hello. As is clear, I've updated twice this week. I'll continue to do so as long as I'm far enough ahead to be comfortable. I hope everyone likes it so far! "I passed high school science." SASSY BEN HA.
And (*muffled laughter*) does anyone recognize Agent Smith? Mwahahahaha. He won't be around long, so enjoy him while he lasts.
Now, yet another thing. Apologies. Anyway, I recognize that one of my largest weaknesses as a writer is character - the characters that aren't the narrator tend to be shallow, cardboard cut outs. And fanfic? HA! I can't seem to grasp other people's characters. Of course, I'm probably massively hard on myself, but if any of you notice that Supernatural characters are acting super out of character, tell me! I'll try to fix it as best as I can.
Crowley, my muse, keeps throwing me ideas at 11. At night. So if this is all delirious, it's all his fault. I'm not getting enough sleep. XD.
Have a great weekend!
