Ten

I was sitting on the stained bedspread of the slightly less hard bed of the two in the room Dylan had booked for us girls. I was flipping through what Dylan liked to call my hunters handbook, it was a leather bound diary stuffed full of pages on every monster known to hunters, my handbook was fairly extensive due to the fact after Dad died I combined his with mine. It was easy to tell which pages were his, all written in red, rough, harsh even. Mine were written with black ink in small neat letters, cramming as much onto a page as possible, well researched and to be frank, slightly obsessive compulsive. I had been meaning to transcribe Dads notes for years but something always stopped me, maybe it was some sort misguided loyalty, how misguided only I really knew. Dad wasn't exactly a firm believer in research, he tended to wing it, something that attributed to his unfavourable reputation amongst hunters. Charging in guns blazing, before you know what you are dealing with is a good way to get people killed. Dad used to call me an egghead when I asked him for a laptop to research for our hunts, he said I would learn everything out on the battlefield. I used to sneak out while he slept to do research which often required breaking into libraries late at night. Luckily Dylan was happy to help, she would pop me in and out, and as much as I hated to travel by angel express, I was so grateful. Dylan had always understood my need to research thoroughly even if she never did it herself, having a dad like Bobby instilled a respect for knowledge that even her cocky attitude because she was an angel couldn't quash. She understood so much that for my fifteenth birthday she bought me the journal, it was perfect, dark purple leather with a latch made of silver in the shape of a rose, the pages were a creamy white with alternating lined and unlined pages. She had used her steady hands to write my name in calligraphy, I loved looking at how the letters curved and looped, it was beautiful. The best part was Dylan promised that it would never get full, how she did it I don't know but she used some amazing angelic mojo to make sure that no matter how much I wrote I would always have space for more. I had shoved the loose leaf papers from Dads journal into the right spots in mine after he died, he would have hated that, and not just because he hated everything I did, he would have hated his work being catalogued. I had to hide my journal from Dad, he would have destroyed it, it actually made me laugh thinking how almost normal the scenario was, I mean what teenage girl doesn't dread her dad finding her diary? I continued to turn the pages with one hand and in the other hand I flipped my butterfly knife. A habit which severely annoyed Dylan.

"Rayne! Will you cut that out!?" she stood with her hands on her hips, her stunning wings fanning out and glimmering in the light coming the window behind her.

"Sorry babes." I flipped the knife into the closed position and placed it on the bed, "I'm just antsy." I ran my hands through my hair and stretched.

"I know, I am too." she sat down next to me. I looked sideways at her.

"While we are alone I have to ask Dyl, what the heck was that with the angel in the car? You looked like someone had slipped you a roofie at first and then you looked like you were going to start going at it right then and there!"

"Honestly Rayne, I wish I knew, I felt like everything else just vanished. I didn't know where I was or what else was happening. It was just me and him." she said, a dreamy look crossing her face. I smiled.

"Nawwwwwww so cute!" I said in a baby voice and she elbowed me, I snorted.

"Shut up!" she punched my arm jokingly. I put my hands up defensively.

"Ok, ok!" I laughed, "but next time I have a hard time talking to Dean, you keep your mouth shut Missy, cause you're no better!" Dylan roared with laughter and nodded.

"Promise babes!" she grinned

"Cross your heart?" I placed my hand on my chest.

"Hope to die!" she held up her hand.

"Stick a needle in your eye?" I raised my eyebrow.

"Ewwwwwww gross, no!" she squealed and we both collapsed on the bed in fits of laughter. Then we heard a knock and Sam called out.

"You girls decent?"

"Yeah come in Sam." I called back sitting up.

"Damn, got my hopes up." Dean winked at me. Dylan wrinkled her nose.

"Gross Dean!"

He rolled his eyes. "Not you, obviously dummy." he said. Dylan laughed loudly.

"I stand by my disgust!" she giggled. Dean ignored her and looked over at the journal on the bed.

"yours?" he asked. I nodded and Sam looked over too.

"Wow, you're more anal than he is!" Dean said in surprise seeing my notes and drawings.

"HEY!" Sam yelled in protest.

"Anyway, we ready to head out?" Dean ignored Sam. Both Dylan and I nodded. I stood up, picked up my butterfly knife, shoved it in my pocket and put my journal in my black duffel bag.

"Ready when you guys are." I said to the boys.

"I call driving!" Dylan yelled, running out of the room.

"No freakin' way!" Dean called after her.