Hey Gorgeous SPN Family! Less than one month away from season 12! WOOHOO!
I'm working crazy hours right now, so this next story is one of my own creating. I promise, I will get back to writing and publishing your requests when I'm not working 14 hour days :) Keep your requests coming! If you've got an account with , I try to answer your requests via message. However, I got a request from a guest, and I can't reply to them. So to dear Kim who requested the story of Natalie's birth- absolutely I will write it, but it's a three part story, so it's going to be a long time before I can. Those who have requested stories know that it takes me FOREVER to write them, but I promise, I will! Hang with me, I will come through for you.
Special thanks to my Sammy- Jenmm31. Go check out her stories- she's a brilliant writer. I know that she's cooking up some good stories just as soon as she gets two seconds to sit down, ha ha! Hugs, girl! You're awesome!
Thank you all for sticking with me. It means the world to me. I love you all! Please read, review, and enjoy!
A/N- This is part 1 of a three part story. In this story, Natalie is 10. This also happen right after the story of Dean and Natalie almost setting fire to the motel room- Chapter 31. Please see profile page for disclaimer.
"Are we there yet?"
"No."
"Are we there yet?"
"No, Bug."
"Are we there yet?"
"Yes. Get out and walk."
"Are we there yet?"
Dean's eyes met his daughter's in the rear view mirror. "You ask that one more time, I will pull this car over and stuff you in the trunk."
Silence. For thirty seconds.
"Are we there yet?"
Dean inhaled and growled out, "Natalie..."
Natalie gave off one of her typical theatrical groans, and slumped sideways on the seat. It was bad enough being trapped in a car with two dudes, but when you were ten and had more energy than you knew what to do with, it all became even more unbearable. She was bored, bored, BORED. And when she got bored, she usually got into trouble. Not because she was a bad kid- just because the world offered so many unique and potentially dangerous glittering baubles for a child with a not-exactly healthy balance of common sense and fear. Sam looked over his shoulder at her. She was still dramatically sprawled out over the backseat.
"Buckle up," he said, gently but firmly. Natalie hauled herself back up and snapped the buckle into place. She knew she wasn't supposed to unbuckle while she was in the car, but it was so much harder to be dramatic when you had your seat belt on. She glared out the window at the scenery. They had been driving for close to five hours now. They hadn't even stopped for lunch- just going through a drive-thru. She hadn't gotten to stretch except the timed five minute long bathroom break they had gotten about an hour ago. And that was just enough to drive her batty. Just one sweet taste of freedom before being unceremoniously stuffed back into the Impala; her leisure gone on the wind with the click of a belt buckle. She knew better than to complain, though. Complaining got her more homework to "keep her from being bored". Annoying them got her dirty looks. She knew which one she'd take any day. She opened her mouth to ask the dreaded question again, when Sam suddenly turned back around.
"How's the Latin coming?" he asked. She suddenly found reason to look anywhere other than her uncle. For some reason, in her mind, if she wasn't looking directly at him, he would eventually let her off the hook on answering his questions. Unfortunately, that never worked.
"Have you started?"
Silence.
"Hand it over."
With a sigh, Natalie reached into her backpack and handed over the blank sheet of verbs she was supposed to be translating into Latin. She had finished the rest of her homework hours ago. She didn't see the point in doing all the extra work NOW. When Sam took the paper, he stared at it for a moment, then flipped it over. When he saw that both sides were blank, he turned back to his niece, who was still avidly avoiding eye contact.
"Why isn't a single thing done on this, young lady?" he asked sternly. Natalie just shifted guiltily and stared out the window.
"Answer him," Dean said. Natalie rolled her bottom jaw around. Great. Now she was in for it.
"It's not fair that I have to do extra Latin!"
"And who brought that on herself?"
"Dad's getting to drive!"
"Because his ankle is healed. Your week isn't up yet." Sam thrust the paper back at her, and she took it reluctantly. "Get to work."
Natalie reached down and pulled her pencil out of her backpack, not saying another word. She hated when Uncle Sam gave her extra Latin homework as a punishment. Besides, it had taken two to tango- she didn't start that fire in the motel room by herself, earning her the week of extra Latin torture. But Sam couldn't punish Dean with extra homework, he had just not been allowed to drive until his sprained ankle had healed. The stupid sprained ankle that caused both father and daughter to be bored enough to start the aforementioned fire. Well, Dean's ankle was healed, but Natalie still had two more days to go until her week of extra homework was up. It just wasn't fair. She silently started struggling through the Latin. She could speak it just fine, but for some reason, had some weird block when it came to reading and writing it. She understood the lilt and feelings behind the spoken word, so it was easy. Well, try spelling it and that was a whole 'nother ballgame.
Dean quickly glanced at her. Her head was bent down over her work, and her mouth was shut. He could practically see the frustration rolling off of her, but that didn't mean she was getting out of finishing her work. He was very strict about her doing her school work while on the road. She was a bright kid who actually did enjoy learning. He had no idea where she had gotten that particular trait from. He had despised school and everything about it. He wanted to encourage her to keep up with her schoolwork like he never could. And usually, it wasn't too hard to do that. She and Sam could wax poetic about any number of topics for hours, which was usually when he slept. He was in charge of the fun stuff.
He had been training her in the hunting life- everything from how to throw a proper punch to how to reload and shoot with one hand. For being only ten, she was getting pretty good at the hunting game too. He had actually consented to taking her on a couple trips with them into cases. Mostly salts and burns, but she had performed an exorcism already. He grinned and nearly burst with pride every time he thought about that. He still wouldn't take her on anything that he considered too terribly dangerous, and in their line of work, that included most things. She was spending a lot of time in the motel rooms that they rented for the duration of their cases, studying any lore that she could get her hands on. Since they had gotten her her own laptop, she was also proving to be quite a little wunderkind when it came to things like internet research. She was getting better than Bobby, but neither of the brothers were ever going to tell him that. They just kept letting her do her own thing. And it seemed to be working.
About an hour later, they pulled into the town where their latest case was. Quaker City, Ohio. The "welcome to" sign at the town line boasted less than 1000 residents. All three Winchesters wrinkled their noses at that. One, it made their cases tougher, since in small towns, everyone seemed be up in everyone else's business. Natalie didn't like it because there probably weren't a lot of kids her age to play with. Sam didn't like it because they probably didn't have a decent library. Dean didn't like it because in a town called Quaker City, they probably didn't have a strip club.
They found a motel, just inside of the town line. They quickly checked in, and hauled their gear inside. Natalie started unpacking by pulling out her stuffed golden retriever puppy that Dean had gotten her when she was five. She knew she was getting a little old for it, but she loved that dog; sleeping better when he was in her arms. Dean wasn't about to discourage anything that meant she would actually be sleeping, and besides, she was still a kid. She had plenty of time before she needed to give that thing up.
"The dog make the trip okay?" Dean asked, a hint of a smile in his voice.
"Good as gold," Natalie said, hugging her puppy before placing him down gently on the sofa. She pulled out her blanket and tossed it over the back of the couch, where the bright blue color clashed horribly against the lime green walls. "Ugh," she muttered. "It looks like this whole room's been dipped in lime green jello."
"Hey- there's always room for jello."
That one got an eye roll from both his daughter and his brother. Dean smiled, very pleased with himself. But he had to agree with the kid. "I'm pretty sure every motel room has to be designed by a porn star from the seventies. It's like a law or something." Dean heard Natalie giggle, which made his forehead wrinkle in consternation. He looked at her. "You're not going to ask what porn is?" he wondered. Natalie was never hesitant to ask about anything, and for the most part, now that she was getting older, he was willing to fill her in. Since the kid knew practically everything anyways.
However, she just gave him a blasting bitch face. Damn Sam for teaching her that, Dean thought to himself. Natalie held out her hand like she was going to shake his. "Hi, I'm Natalie. I'm your daughter. Of course I know what porn is." Now it was Dean's turn for a bitch face. Which, in turn, made Natalie giggle again. The midafternoon sun streaming through the windows was nice and warm on the February day.
"What do you think? Wanna go right into town and take a look?" Sam asked Dean, who shrugged in response.
"No time like the present," he answered.
"Can I go?" Natalie said, popping up from the couch. Dean didn't even turn to look at her.
"Your homework done yet?" He heard her sigh and thump back down on the couch, and he chuckled to himself. She knew exactly what his answer would be if she said no, so she hadn't even tried to push it. Smart kid. Sam stepped into the bathroom to change into his fake FBI gear. Dean walked towards the couch and sat down next to his kid, who was still pouting at not being able to go.
"You know, if you'd finished your Latin in the car like you were supposed to-" he started, and looked at her. She turned to him, expressionless.
"I probably still wouldn't be going anyways," she grumbled. Dean laughed and put his arm around her. Normally, he was just not one for physical affection, but this was his kid- she was different. It didn't feel forced, or even girly when it was her. If anything, he felt more like a man. She slumped sideways into his torso. "When are you going to start taking me on cases with you all the time?" she asked.
Dean shrugged. "Don't know. But come on- you've been on quite a few already."
"I mean the big stuff."
"Well, short stack, start growing and I'll tell you."
"Shut up!" she said, giggling as she socked him in the stomach. He just chuckled in response. Out of all the personality traits she had inherited from Dean, she certainly didn't have much in the way of his physicality. She was very short, even for her age. Her jet black hair looked a lot more like her mother's than a Winchester's. But there was no mistaking those striking green eyes. He'd never tell her, but Natalie had no idea how much trouble those eyes had gotten her out of. All she had to do was blink innocently at Dean, and it could bring him back down from whatever rage cloud he was on. He was still very stern with her, but she was thriving under the structure. They seemed like they were built for each other. She kept him light, he held her to earth.
Once Sam had gotten changed, Dean quickly did the same, and they took off for the police department in town. Natalie had been given strict instructions that the Latin was to be completely finished by the time they got back, and as they left, she was pulling it out and placing it on the table to work on. Dean had done his usual run-through-the-rules and wait to hear the door lock behind him, then he and his brother got in the Impala. They quickly found the police station in the small town and walked into it, putting on the same air that they always put on when impersonating officers. They strolled up to the front desk, pulling out their badges in tandem.
"I'm Agent Johnson, this is Agent Rudd," Dean said, giving a nod to Sam. "We're with the FBI."
"We're here to investigate the death of Colin Murray," Sam explained. The receptionist paged a detective, and without delay ushered the boys into her office. When the detective stood up from behind her desk, both Winchesters literally stopped in her tracks. She was gorgeous- looking like she had just stepped out of a Victoria's Secret catalogue, but of course, wearing clothing. They both almost instantly recovered, but there was a slight rush and shuffle between them to shake her hand first. The detective appeared not to notice. She was all professional, with a good grip, which did nothing except exacerbate the situation.
"Agents, I'm Detective Hudson. Please, have a seat." She indicated the chairs in front of her desk. The boys sat down and tried to look serious instead of checking her out. It wasn't easy.
"I must admit," she said, "I'm a little surprised that the FBI are getting involved here." One of her perfectly shaped eyebrows went up. Dean gave her his best charming smile.
"Well, it's just weird enough that they called us away from the typical inner city crime sprees we normally work on. You know, saving innocent children, restoring justice to an unbalanced world, that kind of thing." He grinned at her. He could see her suppressing a tiny smile, but she quickly locked it up, choosing instead to stay on track of the case. Dean was confused. She didn't immediately fall under his charms?
"Well, what can I do to help your investigation, gentlemen?" Detective Hudson said.
"First off, can you tell us a little about the incident?" Sam asked.
"Colin Murray was a junior in our local high school. Allegedly, he was just walking to class with some of his teammates- he was on the football team- when they said he suddenly started screaming, putting his hands over his ears. He collapsed in the hallway. One of the students rushed to get a teacher, but by the time the teacher came out, Murray was dead."
"So there were eye witnesses."
"Seems like the entire school saw it happen."
"You said he was covering his ears- was there any indication as to why?" Sam questioned.
"There was blood coming out from his ears and his eyes. Authorities are assuming it was some kind of aneurism, but the autopsy won't be performed until tomorrow morning. We should know more then."
"You said that the kid was surrounded by his teammates when he started screaming?" Dean asked.
Hudson nodded. "Yes, and we've already questioned them. They were with him all day- they didn't see anything or notice anything bizarre."
Sam and Dean exchanged a quick look. "Do you mind if we question them? Just for the record?" Sam said, leaning into the desk a bit.
"Not at all. Excuse me, I'll go get the file," Hudson said, standing up and exiting the room. The moment she walked out, Sam immediately turned to Dean.
"Dibs."
Dean looked outraged. "What?! No way! You can't call dibs on her! Besides, I saw her first."
"You saw her at the same time I did."
"Well...you still can't call dibs."
"Just did."
"Nuh-uh."
"Did so!"
"Nuh-uh!"
"Shut up!"
"You shut up!"
"I still call dibs."
"Bitch."
"Jerk."
Just then, Detective Hudson walked back into the room, effectively ending the juvenile conversation. She handed the file to Sam, and sat back down behind her desk. "Do you two think there was some sort of foul play going on here? We've all been assuming that this was a medical issue."
Dean shrugged. "Can't rule it out until we have all the facts. And we'll get down to the bottom of it. Don't you worry." He gave her his usual panty-dropping smile, but it didn't seem to work. She nodded once to indicate that she had heard, but that was all. No blushing, no coy tilt of the head, nothing. Dean's brow wrinkled in confusion. He wasn't used to having to work too hard for any female's attention. Maybe she was in to chicks. That was the only reasonable explanation in his mind as to why she was not succumbing to the charms of Dean Winchester.
Sam cleared his throat. "What time does the local high school let out?" he asked simply.
"Three o'clock," Hudson responded. Her beautiful eyes swung to the clock on the wall. "About a half hour from now. It's only a couple blocks from the station- you should have no trouble finding it." Hudson stood back up, effectively dismissing the two of them. Dean gave her the once over again, which she completely ignored. Yup. Had to be into chicks. Really the only reasonable explanation. Dean nodded to her, and walked out the door, with Sam right behind him.
"Agent Rudd- a moment," Hudson said suddenly as Sam walked out the door. He turned politely to her, and she stepped back from the doorway, indicating for him to come back into the office. Sam shot a quick look at Dean before walking back in, and Hudson plainly shut the door in Dean's face. He pursed his lips in annoyance and walked a few steps away. After an awkward three minutes of Dean getting checked out by one of the male cops who clearly was NOT into chicks, the door opened, and Sam exited. He turned back to Hudson with a smile, and another polite nod. And he got the coy head tilt from her. Dean's eyes about popped out of his head.
Sam began walking down towards the front door of the police station, and Dean actually had to jog a step to keep up. "Well?" he asked gruffly, half afraid of the answer. "What did she want?" Sam didn't speak. He simply held up a business card with a hand written number on it, and grinned at his older brother. Dean halted in shock.
"What the hell?!" he hissed. "How did you get her number? I thought for sure she was a lesbian."
"Well, she's not."
"Then how did my charm not work on her? How did you get the girl?"
"Simple. All I had to do was sit back and let you make an idiot out of yourself, and I come off looking like a knight in shining armor."
"I hate you."
*SPN SPN SPN*
Sam and Dean pulled into the faculty parking lot of the local high school. Dean was still slightly pissed at Sam for scooping the girl, so he was dragging a couple steps behind as they walked into the large brick building. The second they hit the hallways, the long-remembered scent of books, gym clothes, and teen pheromones hit their noses. They both recoiled, partially from the smell of high school, but partially from the memories it evoked. Dean shook his head. "Man, the kid is so lucky she's never gonna have to deal with this," he grumbled in a low voice.
Sam shrugged. "I don't know. There were some parts of high school that were okay. You know, when we actually got to stay in one place for longer than two weeks."
Dean stared at his brother like he had lobsters crawling out of his ears. "You mean there were good parts of school?"
Sam just rolled his eyes. "Well, some of us didn't spend every moment in between classes locked in the janitor's closet with the easiest girl."
"I resent that," Dean said, pulling an insulted face. "I sometimes had to work very hard to get those girls in there."
"You're hopeless."
"Hopelessly romantic."
"I'm gonna hurl."
"Great. That'll top off the rest of this delightful smell."
They walked into the principal's office, flashing their IDs. It was next to no trouble to get the kids that were eyewitnesses to Colin's death down to the office, where Sam and Dean could interrogate them. After about 3 kids, however, Sam was beginning to think that Detective Hudson had been right- that this may have been a medical case instead of a supernatural one. However, unwilling to let anything slide past them, Sam insisted that they interview the last kid. He flipped through the file, trying to find the kid's name.
"His name is...Brick Wilder." Sam said, then chuckled to himself. Dean stared at him.
"What's so funny?" he asked.
"Brick. He's a football jock named Brick. Like the kid in 'Death of a Salesman'." Dean looked blank.
"Arthur Miller? One of the greatest classics of the theater?" Dean just shrugged, indicating he had never even heard of it.
"Do you ever pick up a book?"
"Does Hustler count?"
Just then, the door opened, and the principal ushered Brick in. The kid looked shaken already, and they hadn't said a word to him. Sam couldn't really blame him. Within twenty four hours, this kid had been questioned by the police, was now wanted for questioning by some FBI agents, not to mention watching one of his friends die by some freak accident right before his eyes. Sam tried to give the kid a calming, encouraging smile. He was a bigger kid, probably around Dean's height, with a solid, muscular build. His honey colored hair had been cut into a buzz- a popular look for this school, Sam noticed. He was still wearing his letterman jacket; his arms were folded over his chest, and one hand was gripping the blue leather sleeve, like it offered some security. Sam could see Brick was trying to remain stoic, but was having a hard time. He just really looked like he wanted to go home. Sam questioned his own judgment in pushing for this last interview, but decided to make it simple. He didn't expect anything else from this kid that the others hadn't already given them- he just needed to make sure.
"Hey Brick," he said in a quiet tone. "I'm Agent Rudd, this is Agent Johnson. We just want to ask you a few simple questions, if that's alright."
"I already told the police everything I know. Why do I need to talk to you guys?" Brick said.
"It's just a formality. You can give us the same answers you gave to the police, okay?" Sam answered. Brick just nodded once. "Okay then. Can you tell us about the events leading up to Colin's death?"
Brick inhaled shakily. "Yeah, sure. We were in homeroom together, nothing seemed weird. I mean, Colin said that he had this, like, strange ringing in his ears, but he listens to crap music as loud as he can all the time- we didn't think anything of it." Sam nodded- they had gotten pretty much the same response from the other kids. Brick continued. "So it was like third period or something, and we were just walking to our next class, when all of the sudden, Colin started screaming." Brick shook, still unnerved by the whole experience. "He- he put his hands over his ears. Man, we tried to talk to him, but...but he just kept screaming. He hit the floor, and blood started...like...squirting out of his eyes and stuff." Brick broke off, unable to keep talking as he relived the horror of that moment.
Dean suddenly butted in with, "Was it coming out of his ears too?" Sam turned to give his brother an annoyed look for not being more sensitive, which Dean shrugged off with a "what?" gesture. Brick just nodded in response to Dean's question, still not wanting to talk. Sam faced the boy again.
"Was there anything else unusual that happened? Anything at all?"
"Like what?"
"Like, did you notice any strange noises, cold spots, anything like that when you were walking down the hall?"
Brick shook his head. "No. I mean, he had been acting a bit weird since the day before, but it wasn't anything unusual."
Both Winchesters exchanged a quick look. Sam sat forward a little. "What happened the day before?"
Brick looked up to see both of their eyes locked intently on him. He swallowed hard and sat back. "Well, we went on this field trip the day before- it was like a whole class thing, you know? We do it every year."
"Where did you go?" Dean asked.
"The Museum of World History," Brick answered.
"And where is that?" Sam said.
"About an hour north of here. We go by bus. They take us every year, it's kind of stupid."
"So what caused Colin's attitude change after you all went to the museum?"
"I don't know, man."
"You sure you don't know?" Dean said, a little louder than normal.
Brick shifted guiltily. "Well- this time, there was a new exhibit. It was this Egyptian artifacts thing. We thought there'd be mummies and stuff, but there wasn't. It was just old, dusty crap."
Dean nodding knowingly. "Just like every other museum in the world."
Brick suddenly looked at Dean, finding a kindred spirit in those words. "Right? Why do they make us look at a pot that's been covered in mud for like the last million years? It's stupid."
Dean snorted a laugh. "Tell me about it."
Sam cleared his throat, trying to get them back on track. "Was there anything interesting at the exhibit? Anything at all?"
Brick began shifting nervously again. "Well- there was this one thing- it kinda looked like a bell. The lady who was doing the tour said it was the Bell of...somebody, I don't remember. One of those Egyptian dudes. But she also said it was cursed. Like, anyone who heard the ringing of the bell was cursed, or something."
"Did you try to ring it?" Dean said, suddenly all business and bad cop again. Brick cowered a bit at his tone.
"No, man. I don't mess with that crap. But Colin thought it was bogus. We snuck back into the room when everyone else had moved into another part of the museum to look at it again. He told me to dare him to touch it."
"Did you?"
"No! No way! But before I could stop him, he jumped right over the velvet rope thing and touched it. Man, it scared the crap outta me- I half expected those beetle things from "The Mummy" to crawl out of the floor and eat him or something. I mean, he just touched it- he didn't ring it."
"And nothing happened?"
"No. I mean, he got this weird look on his face, but then kinda shook his head, and that's when our teacher caught us." Brick made a face at admitting he'd gotten in trouble at the museum. Sam just gave Dean a knowing look- this was what they had been searching for. Now they had some place to start.
Sam stood up, and Dean followed suit. "Well, thanks for your time, Brick." He held out his hand. Brick took it and shook it once, but then stopped. He looked Sam right in the eye, and Sam could see the fear there.
"Man- that bell wasn't cursed, was it? Was that why Colin died?" he asked, in a shaky, low voice.
"No, cursed objects don't really exist," Sam lied through his teeth.
*SPN SPN SPN*
Later that evening, the boys returned to the motel with fast food bags full of dinner. Natalie had opened the door to the password of "RIP Bonham", and they were sitting at the small table, discussing the case with her.
"So you think it's like a cursed Egyptian artifact?" she asked, dragging a French fry through her ketchup before popping it into her mouth.
Sam nodded. "Yeah. He said it looked like a bell. Named after an Egyptian god, I'm guessing." He took a big bite of his chicken sandwich.
Dean was running his straw along the bottom of his nearly empty cup, slurping up the remains. Sam shot him a bitch face. "What?" he asked, nonplussed. Sam rolled his eyes at his brother's lack of table manners. Dean turned his attention to his daughter. "Think you can dig something up on that? HA! Dig! 'Cause it's an artifact! See what I did there?" He grinned cheekily, making Natalie giggle.
"Here we go," Sam said, sitting back in his chair and wadding up his sandwich wrapper.
Natalie gave her dad her heart stopping grin. "I think I can find something. But I have to warn you- It's probably a pyramid scheme." She gave her father a sideways grin.
"Tut Tut. You jest."
"I think you're in deNILE."
"You both are idiots," Sam said, swiping Dean's empty drink cup in his cleanup effort. Natalie and Dean laughed hysterically at each other for a minute, before calming down and sighing in tandem. Dean loved these casual, carefree moments. Sure, there was plenty to worry about- his kid was growing up out of a suitcase, they had jobs that threatened their lives at every turn, and if the collection agencies ever caught up with them for their credit card fraud, they were looking at fifteen life sentences, back to back. But in moments like this, the world seemed to balance itself. Dean tousled Natalie's hair as he walked away from the table. She patted it back into place, annoyed. She hated it when they did that, and they did it all the time. She turned to her uncle as she stuffed the last couple fries in her mouth.
"Did you check my homework yet?" she asked, chewing. He looked at her reproachingly.
"Don't talk with your mouth full," Sam scolded. Natalie chewed impatiently and swallowed, then repeated her question. "I'm almost done," he answered this time.
"Can I watch TV then?"
"If you got them all right, then sure you can." Sam sat back down at the table, her paper in his hand. She had gotten them all right except the second to last one. They spent a couple minutes at the table together, their heads bent down, looking at the paper, Sam teaching Natalie the correct way to translate and spell the word. Dean looked over at the pair of them, and smiled. It was ironic that out of the two of them, Dean had ended up with a kid. Not because of his amount of sexual activity, mind you, but because Dean had always secretly believed that Sam would make a much better dad than he ever would. Sam really had no idea how much Dean counted on him to help navigate the waters of having a daughter. Dean had finally accepted the fact that he would have done okay by himself- Natalie was an amazing kid. But he was still grateful that Sam was around. Sam loved Natalie like she was his own kid. They were a weird little family, but the three of them made a pretty awesome weird little family.
When the two of them finally finished the Latin, Natalie pushed away from the table, and came bouncing over to him. "What's on?" she asked.
"Did you finish all your homework?" Dean asked as a response.
"Yes, sir. What's on?" she repeated, not to be deterred. Dean chuckled, and flipped on the television, scrolling through the guide channel.
"Check it out, Sammy. Alien Versus Predator. Man, I haven't seen that in forever."
"Let's watch it!" Natalie said, jumping onto the couch beside her dad.
"You sure you can handle it, squirt?" His ten year old turned to him with a resounding bitch face.
"Dad. We hunt monsters for a living. Like there's anything in that movie that's going to give me nightmares."
He chuckled again as Sam dropped down on her other side. They got about half way through the movie, when things were really starting to heat up. At the sudden appearance of an alien bursting through a wall, Natalie jumped and let out a tiny shriek. Dean just laughed at her.
"I thought you said you could handle this. Don't be a wuss."
"I'm not a wuss. You're a wuss," she retorted with a smart aleck tone. Just then, another Alien jumped up on the screen, and she once again jumped a mile. Dean just chuckled.
"Come here, you wuss." He put his arm around her protectively, and she snuggled into his side. She didn't jump for the rest of the movie.
*SPN SPN SPN*
Later that night, in a town about an hour away, a young woman sat up in bed, straight out of a dead sleep. She couldn't hear anything but the ringing in her ears.
