Chapter Three
Now
"So, they're all people we know?" Sam demanded, pacing back and forth in the living room.
It had been a long day already, and I wasn't looking forward to night falling. Dean and I had sat down on the couch, Dean reloading his shot gun. Stood by his desk, flipping through book after book. Even today I was still impressed by his collection. I hope he had something on these ghosts, I wasn't sure I could survive another encounter with Indigo.
"Not just know," Dean corrected, sliding another shell into place, "People we couldn't save."
We all fell silent at that. It wasn't just the ones we could save, at least not for me. It was the ones who would hurt us the most, our deepest regrets. The ones we blamed ourselves for letting happen. Dean placed the shotgun on my lap, winking as his hand brushed against my thigh. He picked up the next gone and begun loading it.
"Hey, I saw something on Meg," Dean said, looking from me to Sam and Bobby, "Did she have a tattoo when she was alive?"
"I don't think so," Sam said with a shake of his head, but he didn't look so sure.
"It was like a mark on her hands," Dean said, pointing at the spot between his thumb and forefinger on the back of his hand, "Almost like a brand."
"I saw a mark, too, on Hendrickson," Sam confirmed.
"What did it look like?" Bobby asked.
"Uh, paper?" Sam asked stepping forward. Bobby grabbed a notepad and pencil and handed it to him. "Thanks."
Sam quickly jolted down the brand and held it up for Dean to inspect. It was a circle with a diamond shape in the middle, one line running from top to bottom and one running from side to side. Each diamond had a little line curving away from the center and little balls.
"That's the Mark of the Witness," I shot up, nearly forgetting the shotgun on my lap and snatched the paper from Sam.
"What's that mean?" Dean asked, he cocked his shotgun.
"One of the books Bobby has on angels, Revelations, I read it," I said, turning to look at Dean. Bobby walked around Sam and pulled the notebook out of my hands.
"I think she's right," Bobby said, "I may have seen this before."
"What's it means?" Sam asked.
"It's the apocalypse," I said.
The air in the room changed. The room filled with radio static, the lights flickering above our heads, alerting to ghost. Bobby rushed to his book shelf and snatched up a book. Dean cocked another gun and handed it to Sam. I walked over to Bobby, intending to help.
"We got to move," Bobby said, scooping books of the shelf and dropping them into my arms. He rushed back to the bookshelf for more, "Follow me."
"Okay," Sam said, getting an arm full of books as well, "Where are we going?"
Bobby dropped another stack into Dean's arms, before turning back to his desk and grabbing some more, "Someplace safe, you idjit."
We followed Bobby toward the basement stairs, I hesitated. My experience in the basement hasn't been that great. I had said goodbye to Dean in that basement, got the shit kicked out of me by my brother. I wasn't excited to go back down there. Sam and Bobby headed down, while Dean waited with me at the top.
"You good?" Dean asked, bopping me gently with his book filled hands.
I Swallowed hard, nodding. With Dean on my heels, we descended down the stairs. We rounded around, following Bobby to the back of the room. Bobby paused in front of a heavy looking iron door. He grabbed hold of the handle, turned back to us, then pulled it open. I glanced around him into the dark room, the only light was coming from an opening in the ceiling for a fan that cast a shadow pentagram on the ground. I stepped past Bobby, entering the room.
Bobby clicked on the light and several lamps scattered throughout the room flicked to life, eliminating a circular room. I gapped at the sight in front of me. On the left side of the door was an arsenal neatly spread across a metal rack. It had everything: knives, guns, wooden stakes, holy water, the equipment needed to make bullets, you name it. He had set up a desk at the back of the room, which was already littered with papers and books, papers hanging on the wall. Another metal shelf had been set up with army rations and water; there was a small cot with a green blanket and one pillow. There was another desk with a ham radio station, more books, a map on the wall. There was even a couch.
Bobby pulled the door shut loud enough to wake the dead and locked it shut with a loud clang. Bobby took the books from me and set them on the desk. I walked around, wanting to touch everything. This was amazing, I hadn't seen anything like it since the Circle.
"Bobby, is this-" Sam said, spinning in a slow circle.
"Solid iron," Bobby told us, cutting off Sam as he glanced around his room, "Completely coated in salt. One hundred percent ghost-proof."
"You built a panic room?" Sam asked, impressed.
"I had a weekend off," Bobby said with a shrug.
"Bobby," Dean said, pulling an AK47 rifle off the gun rack.
"What?" Bobby asked.
"You're awesome," Dean told him with a chuckle, "Oh."
We all turned to see the Baywatch babe Bobby had hanging on the wall. I smirked, "Dirty dog."
"Okay, what's this about an apocalypse?" Dean demanded, "You mean, like apocalypse, apocalypse? The four horsemen, pestilence, five dollar a gallon gas apocalypse?"
"Short version," I started, "The Book of Revelation states that there is a spell called the Rising of the Witnesses, it's so powerful that it leaves a mark on the victim. The brand that Dean saw."
"So, someone rose them on purpose," Bobby said.
"Who?" Sam demeaned, "And witnesses to what?"
"The unnatural," Bobby explained, "None of them died what you'd call ordinary deaths. See, these ghosts, they were forced to rise. They woke up in agony. They were like rabid dogs. It ain't their fault."
"Yeah, but who?" Sam demanded, standing up and going to stand beside Bobby.
"Do I look like I know?" Bobby asked. "Whoever did this have big plans."
"This is a sign, kids," Bobby said.
"The Rise of the Witnesses is just the start," I told them.
"Okay," Sam said, "So, what do we do now?"
Dean scoffed, turning away from us as he headed back to his seat, "Road trip. Grand Canyon, Star Trek Experience." Dean clapped his hands together once before sitting down, "Bunny Ranch."
"First things first," Bobby said, "How about we survive our friends out there?"
"Great," Dean said, plopping down on a chair, "Any ideas aside from staying in this room until judgment day?"
Bobby held up one of his books, "We get to work."
Dean and Sam sat down to make rounds of shotgun shells with rock salt, while Bobby and I researched the brand. The room was filled with the soft clicking of Sam and Dean at work and the whooshing of papers. I flipped through book after book, my head bounding. My eyes kept flicking to the clock on the desk, watching it tick by. Every minute we where in here, there could be another hunter dying.
"Can you translate this?" Bobby asked, handing me a book. It was in Cuneiform, looked like some sort of ritual. "I'm a bit rusty, but pretty sure I can."
"I know a bit too," Bobby said.
We got to work translating the text. The room fell into silence once again, all of us focused on our work. We were nearly done when Dean broke the silence, "See, this is why I can't get behind God."
"What are you talking about?" Sam asked.
"If he doesn't exist, fine," Dean explained, "Bad crap happens to good people. That's how it is. There's no rhyme or reason- just random, horrible evil- I get it, okay. I can roll with that. But if He is out there, what's wrong with Him? Where the hell is He while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does He live with Himself? You know, why doesn't He help?"
Sam and Bobby shared a look, before Dean also turned around to look at Bobby and me. Bobby spoke up first, "I ain't touching this one with a ten-foot pole."
"Yeah," Dean said softly, turning back around.
"We got it," Bobby said.
"What?" Sam asked, sounding slightly surprised.
Bobby tapped his pencil against his notebook, "It's a spell. To send the Witnesses back to rest. Should work…"
"Should?" Sam said, laughing slightly, "Great."
"It should work, if we translated it correctly," Bobby said, handing the book to me, "I think you got everything we need here at the house."
"Any chance you got everything we need here in this room?" Dean asked, hopefully.
"So, you thought our luck was gonna start now all of a sudden?" Bobby asked. He pushed himself out of his seat and walked across the room, gathering some supplies, "Spell's got to be cast over an open fire."
Sam chuckled, "The fireplace in the library."
"Bingo," Bobby said.
"That's just not as appealing as a ghost-proof panic room, you know?" Dean said. He cocked his shotgun and handed it to Sam, before grabbing another one and handing it to Bobby. I held the book tightly against my chest, holding a canaster of salt in my hand.
"Cover each other," Bobby told us while we gathered around the door. "And aim careful. Don't run out of ammo until I'm done, or they'll shred you. Ready?"
Bobby unlocked the door and pushed it open. After checking if the coast was clear, Sam stepped out first. I went second, followed by Dean and then Bobby. We walked slowly, walking back to the stairs with our guns at the ready. We came to the bottom of the stairs and froze, there was a man sitting on the stairs. He was heavy set, with curly dark hair that stuck up from his head. He was dressed dark clothes, and a vest. Dean pointing his gun at a man sitting at the top.
"Hey, Dean," The man said, smiling slightly, "You remember me?"
"Ronald, huh?" Dean said, remembering as he rose his hand and pointed at his own eyes, "With the laser eyes? I wish I could say it's good to see you."
"I am dead because of you," Ronald said as he rose to his feet, his voice rising, "You were supposed to help me!"
Bobby fired off a round of salt rocks making me jump. He looked at Dean, "If you're gonna shoot, shoot. Don't talk."
Bobby pushed past us and begun ascending the stairs. Once we made it back to the living room, we instantly begun getting to work. Sam begun lying out a line of salt, while Dean lit the fire. I joined Bobby by his desk, flipping through our notes.
"Upstairs, linen closet- red hex box," Bobby said to Sam, "It'll be heavy."
"Got it," Sam said, he stepped over the salt line and headed for the stairs.
"Bobby," I glanced up to see two little twins standing at the salt line, their eyes fixed on Bobby. I pointed my gun at them and pulled the trigger. Rock salt rocketed toward them, turning them to ashy smoke.
"Hemlock, opium, wormwood," Bobby said, turning to me, "Kitchen, you know where."
I nodded and hurried of the salt line into the kitchen. I went straight to the cutlery drawer and yanked it open, it seemed like yesterday I was in here reorganizing. I pulled out the white plastic holder and slammed it on the counter. I popped out the false bottom and dug through the contents looking for the ingredients. The doors to the kitchen slammed shut behind me, making me jolt.
It was followed by pounding on the door, "True!"
"I'm fine, Dean!" I yelled, turning back to the drawer. I could hear Bobby's muffled voice, but I ignored him
"Keep working," Dean called, probably to Bobby, "True, hold on. I'm gonna get you out!"
I grabbed the ingredients and spun around, freezing when I came face to face with Indy. This time was different though. I was no longer afraid of him, or the things he would say. Now, this was about putting him back to rest. I could end his suffering, and that was all that mattered right now.
"You're doing it again," Indigo told me, his voice hard. "You're going to kill me all over again."
I shook my head, giving him a small smile, "I'm sorry, Indy, but that not what I'm doing."
"Stop saying sorry!" Indigo screamed, "I was fourteen! You should have protected me!"
"I know," I told him, I pointed the gun at his head and pulled the trigger.
Indigo disappeared and the doors swung open. Dean was sitting on the floor his hand clutched to his chest, Sam standing over him. I grabbed the ingredients and ran over, just as Sam pulled Dean to his feet and asked, "You good?"
"No," Dean said.
We hurried back onto the living room, quickly jumping over the salt line. I dumped the ingredients on to the desk at the same time Sam came running into the room. He deposited his loot on the desk and turned around, to fire a shot at Hendrickson.
"Ronald," Dean said, catching my attention. I glanced at him as he reloaded his shotgun as he maneuvered himself between me and Ronald, "Hey, come on, man. I thought we were pals."
"That's when I was breathing," Ronald told him, "Now I'm gonna eat you alive."
Dean's laugh was humorless, "Well, come on, I'm not a cheeseburger."
"True," I turned back around to see Indigo standing on the other side of the salt line, "I'm going to rip your heart out for what you did to me."
"I don't think so, kid," I said.
Bobby began to chant in a foreign language, mixing the ingredients in a bowl. The windows of the house blew open, gust of wind whooshed into the room violently whipping lose papers around us, destroying the salt lines. Ghost after ghost appeared, we fired off round after round to protect Bobby, reloaded and repeated. Dean ran out of ammo first, grabbing hold of the fireplace poker and using it to ward off the ghost. I caught a quick glance of a desk slamming into Sam and pinning him against the wall just as I was knocked of my feet. I flew sideways and slammed into the stairs railing, the wood breaking underneath me. I sat up, Indigo appearing over me. He reached back his arm and shoved his fist into my chest.
I screamed, feeling like he really was trying to rip out my heart. I closed my eyes against the pain, leaning back against the stairs. A brilliant white-blue light exploded across my eyelids, the pain in my chest dissipating. I opened my eyes in time to see Indigo disappear. Groaning, I pulled myself to my feet, stumbling down the stairs.
"Sam, check Bobby," I head Dean call, followed by his footsteps as he ran into the hallway.
He paused that the sight of me. Then he was up the stairs, his hands on my arms as he looked me up and down. He sighed heavily, running his hand down the side of my face.
"Satisfied?" I asked. I tried to grin at him, but it felt more like a grimace.
Dean smirked, "Not yet."
I rolled my eyes at him, but I felt lighter. We had done it, the spirts where at rest once more. Dean nodded his head to follow, and we headed back into the living room. I looked from Sam to Bobby, nodding at both of them. They looked a little worse for the wear, but alive.
"Should we clean this up?" I asked, glancing around at the mess.
"Might as well," Bobby grumbled.
We got to work straightening the furniture, picking up the papers off the floor, and sweeping up the salt. Once that was done, Dean and Sam a cot out of one of the closest and set it up in the living room for me to sleep on. I had tried opposing to this, but it was the only spare cot Bobby had. Bobby brought us a pillows and blankets, Dean lying out a sleeping back a short distance from my cot and Sam got comfy on the couch. Once the beds where set up, I collapsed against the pillow and closed my eyes. I was mildly aware of Bobby wishing us a good night's sleep before unconsciousness took me.
I wasn't sure how long I was asleep when I heard Dean's voice. I opened my eyes to see him standing in the kitchen next to Castiel, who was leaning up against the counter.
"Thanks a lot for the angelic assistance," Dean was saying in a harsh whisper, "You know, I almost got my heart ripped out of my chest."
"But you didn't," Castiel pointed out.
"I thought angels where supposed to be guardians," Dean went on, "Fluffy wings, halos, you know, Michael Landon. Not dicks."
"Read the Bible," Castiel said, his tone ever neutral, "Angels are warriors of God. I'm a soldier."
"Yeah?" Dean asked, "Then, why don't you fight?"
"I'm not here to perch on your shoulder," Castiel said, the first glimpse of annoyance slipping into his tone, "We had larger concerns."
"Concerns?" Dean hissed, "There were people getting torn to shreds down here! And, by the way, while all this is going on, where the hell is your boss, huh, if there is a God?"
"There's a God," Castiel said.
"I'm not convinced," Dean told him, growing angrier, "'Cause if there's a God, what the hell is He waiting for, huh? Genocide? Monsters roaming the Earth? The freaking apocalypse? At what point does he lift a damn finger and help the poor bastards that are stuck down here?"
"The Lord works-" Castiel started.
"If you say 'mysterious ways,'" Dean interrupted, "So help me, I will kick your ass."
Castiel lifted his hand I defeat, when he turned back to Dean it looked like he was smiling. I wasn't sure what I expected angles to be like, but I was pretty sure it wasn't this. He seemed so relaxed, almost like he was enjoying the conversation.
"So, True was right," Dean went on, walking around the kitchen, "About the witnesses. This is some kind of a sign of the apocalypse."
"That's why we're here," Castiel said, "Big things afoot."
"Do I want to know what kind of things?"
Castiel tilted his head in a small shrug, "I sincerely doubt it, but you need to know. The Rising of the Witnesses is one of the 66 seals."
"Okay," Dean said, "I'm guessing that's not a show at Sea World."
"Those seals are being broken by Lilith," Castiel informed him, unimpressed by his sarcastic comments.
Realization dawned on Dean's face, "She did the spell. She rose the witnesses."
"Mm-hmm," Castiel nodded, "And not just here. 20 other hunters are dead."
"Of course," Dean dropped his head, "She picked victims that the hunters couldn't save so that they would barrel right after us."
"Lilith has a certain sense of humor," Castiel agreed.
"Well, we put those spirts back to rest."
"It doesn't matter," Castiel said with a shake of his head, "The seal was broken."
"Why break the seal anyway?" Dean finally asked.
"You think of the seals as locks on a door," Castiel explained.
"Okay, last one opens and…?" Dean pressed.
"Lucifer walks free."
It was all I could do to hold in my gasp, I had to bite down hard on my bottom lip. Lucifer? Fucking Lucifer? The angel that fell from heaven for because he didn't want to bow to humans, mother fucking Lucifer? The king of hell?
"Lucifer?" Dean asked, and Castiel nodded, "But I thought Lucifer was just a story they told at demon Sunday school. There's no such thing."
"Three days ago, you thought there was no such thing as me," Castiel pointed out, "Why do you think we're here walking among you now for the first time in two thousand years?"
"To stop Lucifer," Dean whispered.
Castiel nodded, "That's why we've arrived.
"Well," Dean licked his lips, leaning against the counter beside the angel, "Bang-up job so far. Stellar work with the witnesses. That's nice."
"We tried," Castiel glowered, getting into Dean's face, "And there are other battles, other seals. Some we'll win, some we'll lose. This one we lost. Our numbers are not unlimited. Six of my brothers died in the field this week. You think the armies of heaven should just follow you around? There's a bigger picture here. You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in."
I blinked and Castiel was gone. Dean stayed where he was, crossing his arms over his chest. I rolled of the cot, wrapping my blanket tightly around me and padded over to Dean. He looked up as I approached, pursing his lips at me.
"How, uh, how much of that did you here?" Dean asked me.
"All the important parts, I think."
Dean nodded slowly, "How messed up that?"
I pressed my lips together, not sure there was anything I could say to make light of this. Everything was happening so fast. First Dean, then the apocalypse, now a holy war to prevent the devil from rising. It was all way to heavy. Then there was the plan God supposedly had for Dean, I couldn't imagine how he was feeling right now.
"Look, maybe we should-"
"No," I cut him off. His tone suggesting where were about to have 'the talk' and I wasn't about to let that happen, "You don't get to back out of this, its too late. You're stuck with me, sweetie pie."
Dean smirked, then his face dropped, "It's just not a good time…"
"With us it's never gonna be a good time with us, Dean," I walked in front of him, pulling his arms apart so I could press myself against him and wrap my arms around his neck, "I'm not going anywhere."
Dean wrapped his arms around me, interlocking his fingers behind my back and holding me close, "I don't know what's gonna happen."
"We'll face it together."
"I don't like this side of you," Dean smirked, "It's too nice."
"Shut up," I said, rolling my eyes.
Dean leaned forward, gently kissing my lips. He moved his hands to my hips, digging in his fingers as he pulled me harder against him. We stayed like that for a while, holding on to each other. Getting lost in the kiss, trying to forget the rest of the world. When Dean finally pulled away, he rested his forehead against mine.
"We should try to get some sleep," Dean whispered, but he didn't move to follow through with that.
We stood in silence for a few more seconds, enjoying each other's company before we pulled away. Dean lead me back to the cot with his hand on my lower back. He took the blanket for me while I laid down, then covered me with it. He bent down and kissed me once more, before returning to his sleeping bag.
"To bad the cot wasn't bigger," Dean groaned, stretching out on the floor, "Then we could stay up a little longer."
I smiled at him, "If only you were that lucky."
"You tease," Dean yawned, "'Night, True."
"Goodnight, Dean."
I didn't think that I was going to be able to fall asleep, but the second my eyes closed I was out. I woke to lights pouring in through the window. I rolled over to see Dean fast a sleep on the floor and Sam still asleep on the bed. Sitting up, I stretched my arms over my head feeling my body pop. After the fight yesterday my body was sore, I felt caked in sweat and my hair felt thick with oils. I would kill for a long hot bubble bath, but a shower would have to do. I stood up, stretching again and headed out of the living room.
I grabbed my duffle bag from the entryway and headed upstairs, turning into the bathroom in the hall. Shutting the door, I turned on the shower and striped out of my clothes. I checked my body in the mirror, grimacing at the bruises that covered me. My back had a massive bruise from where I had collided with the stair banister, my neck had little bruises from where Indigo had choked me, and there were several smaller bruises on my arms and legs. Sticking out my tongue at my reflection, I pulled my travel shampoo, conditioner, face wash, soap, and in shower lotion and set them up along the edge of the bathtub before stepping into the shower.
Tilting my head back, I sighed happily under the warm water. I let it run down my body, steaming all the gunk and got to work scrubbing myself clean. After the shower, and once I was dry, I dressed in a marron shirt ducked into a flowing black skirt, and toped the look with my boots. After brushing out my hair, I headed back downstairs to find Sam no longer lying on the couch. Dean was still asleep, so I slipped out of the front door and pulled out my phone.
I dialed Claire's number first. We hadn't really talked since the last time I had seen her, but she had sent me a text that she was going back to Salt Lake now that Dean was back. She promised not to hunt, but couldn't… or wouldn't… promise she would stop practicing magic. She answered on the second ring.
"Hello, beautiful!" She sang into the phone, "I'm so glad you called!"
I grinded my teeth together. It could have all been in my head, but the nonchalant tone felt forced. She was trying to hard to be the girl she was four and a half months ago. I swallowed hard, "Are you okay?"
"I'm perfect!" Claire said, I could hear the smile in her voice, "Why? Did something happen?"
"Um, no," I lied, hoping she didn't hear it in my voice. I walked farther away from the house, listening to the gravel crunching under my boots, "I just wanted to make sure you made it back to Salt Lake alright."
"Oh, yeah," Claire said dismissively, "Also, have you heard of any covens in our area?"
"You want to join a coven now?" I demanded, stopping in my tracks.
"True, who better to learn magic from then other witches?"
"They are witches, Claire!" I neared screamed into the phone. I took a deep breath, counting backward from ten to calm before I started again, "You don't know witches like I do. It's dark magic, they get it from demons!"
"But I don't," Claire insisted, "It just happens, and the better I get at it… maybe I could join you and the Winchesters on hunts. Four is better than three, right?"
"Why is this so important to you?" I asked, "You don't need to do this just to hunt. I can teach you-"
"We already talked about this, True," Claire said, clearly as frustrated as I was, "I need to do this."
"Why?" I demanded.
Claire took a deep breath, "Have you ever felt like something bad was going to happen? You didn't know how you know or what it was, but you know it's coming. I've tried to find out what it is, but all I get is a shadowy figure."
Flashes of a shadow watching me flicked into my memory, but I hadn't felt anyone watching me since Dean died, "Claire-"
"I've felt it for a while," Claire went on, worry slipping into her tone, "And I know it's about you. Something bad is going to happen to you, True, but if I can find out what it is… maybe I could stop it."
"It's not worth risking your life," I told her.
"You risked your life for me. You're my best friend, I can't just sit by and let it happen."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Claire chuckled softly, "You already didn't want me doing this. I know if you thought it was more dangerous, you would hound me more about giving it up."
"You should give it up," I insisted.
I thought about the angels, the impending apocalypse, the threat of Lucifer rising. These were not things I wanted Claire to be a part of, but I could no longer protect her from it. Just like any other hunter, she was in this life and there was no easy out. Even if she had gone about it in the wrong way, I know I couldn't convince her to stop. I took a deep breath and told her everything.
"Wait," Claire snapped, "You and Dean decided to date and you didn't tell me?"
I laughed, I couldn't help it, "That's what you got from all that?"
"I mean, yeah," Claire said, "Why didn't you tell me?"
"A lot kind of happened…"
"And?" Claire said, sensing there was something I wasn't saying.
"And we haven't really been talking," I admitted. It wasn't Claire's fault. I was the one who pulled away.
Claire sighed, "I know, but we will get past this like we always do. Look, I got to go, but I'm going to look into this stuff some more. See what I can find out."
"Just be careful," I warned her, "I don't want you getting hurt."
"Or dead," Claire made a kissing noise into the phone, "I'll be safe, promise!"
The line went dead. I stared at my phone for a few seconds. There was one more person I wanted to call, to make sure she had survived the witnesses. I really, really did not want to talk to her. Not so much her, but her connection to the Circle. I didn't want them to know about Claire, or that Dean was back and could talk to an angel, or whatever the hell dormant powers Sam had. I needed to know if she was alive. Stealing my nerves, I called Echo.
"Hello, True," Echo answer on the first ring, "Where you attacked by a ghost recently?"
Right to business as usual, but I was relieved to here her voice, "I was attacked by Indigo."
"Oh," Echo said, at a loss for words, "Um, I'm so sorry, True… you now, his death-"
"Wasn't my fault, yeah I know," I said, didn't make it feel any less like my fault though. I stated walking again, drifting farther away from Bobby's house, "I'm glad you survived."
"Three others of the Circle didn't," Echo told me, but thankfully she didn't go into detail, "You still in America?"
"Yeah, you back in London?"
"Australia, actually," Echo said.
"Stay safe."
"You to, True," Echo sighed.
I hung up the phone, tucking it into my back pocket. I turned my head up to the sky, soaking in the rays of sunshine. It was a beautiful day, and I wondered if we had time for a trip to a lake. I could work on my tan; the Winchesters and Bobby could sure use some sun. It would be a nice distraction from the hell that was about to rain down around us. I turned around to make my way back to the house, but I felt the hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. There was someone watching me. I turned around, looking behind me for anything out of the ordinary, but I didn't see anyone.
