Disclaimer: All ideas, characters, and situations belong to their respective owners. Jonnie's mine.
A/N: DEVOTED READERS & STUMBLERS: Thank you all who have continued to read this story; I'm sorry it's taken so long to update! And then it's a quick passing chapter...however, I have the next chapter written already so give it a day or two. I want to thank all who have added this story to their alerts and favorites during this time. Your reading is greatly appreciated, as is any feedback. Enjoy! Apologies for the formatting.
Chapter Twenty Five
She saw them. In her rearview mirror, when she paid close attention, she saw them laughing, joking around, talking. She smiled despite herself. She wanted to stay with them. She was finally finding a place where her presence wasn't necessarily just tolerated, but perhaps desired. But she had a job to do. That was it. This was the life she chose. It was too late to turn back. She had to find John Winchester.
"So this is it huh?" Sam mused as the trio sat in a diner in the midlands of Florida, halfway between orange groves and beaches, nestled in the community of the living and dying.
He looked at the early bird special menu. Across from him was Jonquil, looking down at papers that he knew she wasn't reading. She was thinking. Most likely about the person sitting beside him. Dean. Who was staring into the menu, but not reading it at all.
"I can't decide what won't send me to the bathroom faster. The prune marmalade spread," Dean said with a grimace. "Or the Healthy Track Bio Starter. Whatever the hell that means."
"I'm sure you can order regular Dean. It's a diner, not a cafeteria for the elderly." Jonquil muttered.
"Yeah, I'm sure." Dean's eyes motioned at the "early birds" who started making their way to the counter. Some other elderly couples and friends made their way to the surrounding booths.
The three hunters loomed over the breakfast menu until a shadow hovered over them.
"We're not ready yet," Dean mumbled without looking up. The shadow cleared its throat.
"To get up and leave or get your backside handed to ya boy?"
The three hunters' heads shot up in surprise. At the edge of table was an old man in a cream colored golf polo and Kangol hat with his arms folded across his chest. His white mustache twitched and his dark brown eyes glinted. Behind him with wispy white hair and thin wire framed glasses was an older man. Beside him was a burly weather worn man with a long white beard.
Jonnie scoffed at Dean and Sam smirked. Dean spoke.
"I don't see your name on it gramps."
"Don't be a smart alec," the gruff burly man spoke.
"You too Captain Ahab. Don't see your name on it either."
"Dean, respect your elders."
The mustached ring leader narrowed his eyes at Jonquil. "Who says I'm elderly, doll?"
Jonquil turned her eyes away, looking awkwardly at Sam.
"Let's just go." Sam stood, Jonquil followed suite, picking up her papers. Dean remained seated glaring at the old man.
"Why don't you go with your friends, we're gonna miss the early bird special. That new Bio menu is great!" The wire framed man said.
Dean's eyes glanced between the three elderly men, and a shudder of realization coursed through him. Would he be like these old men? He stood up. The old men and Dean held their glares at each other until the hunters had found a different booth.
"Man, I hate old people." Dean muttered as they ate breakfast in a different diner.
"You're gonna be old one day too." Sam spoke as he bit into his food.
"I guess I should let you know the old peoples' home is where we're heading next." Jonquil said before she took a bite of her pancake.
"What? What's the last sin left over?" Dean frowned.
"Sloth. At Lorey Lake Retirement Community."Jonquil glanced quickly from Dean, trying to avoid his glare.
"Are you serious? A whole damn city full of the aging?"
"They're not that bad Dean. Old people are great for the most part. You know, they've lived their lives, some are just beginning…Some of the people are sad because there's no one visiting them."
Jonquil looked up at Dean hopefully. He tried to frown. "Yeah, well…They smell funny. Like funeral homes."
"You've been through worse, I'm sure."
Dean glanced at Sam, who was in mid pancake, and only shrugged.
They continued to eat. Jonquil glanced warily at them. She didn't want this to be over.
"They're hiring. I already filled out our applications. We start tomorrow."
"They don't really run background checks do they?" Sam said.
There was a knock on the door. Twice.
"Mr. Vadalokos? It's time for afternoon Tai Chi."
A staff of Lorey Lake stood in front of George Vadalokos' room. It had been strange, thought Jeffrey, the staffer, as he waited for Mr. Vadalokos' response. He usually was up and ready; very active. These last few days however, he had declined in activity. They took him to the doctor, but she could not find anything odd. If anything, it was age catching up on him.
Jeffrey decided he would come back later.
In the next few hours, behind that door, George Vadalokos rotted away, a very literal rotting away. His innards not responding and his movement slow. He couldn't do anything. He watched himself die, aware that it was not him. He knew. But no one would know that, no one would know he was dead until tomorrow morning. They would find his strangely fast decomposed body slouching on his chair, in front of a shopping network television show, the room layers of mess.