Chapter 3
The parking lot of their current home away from home was a slight more populated at the ungodly hour Sam choose to catch up on his reading. He retrieved the holy grails to Dean's mind and snuck behind the building, taking a seat on the hard ground.
Sam took a moment to get situated and leaned his head back against the cold motel's exterior. He was almost finished with the journals and that was a good thing. Dean was starting to look at him weirdly –well more so than usual. He was getting a little sluggish and the circles under his eyes were getting larger and darker from saying up all night reading. Sam just held fast to thought that he would finish the journals soon and things would be back to normal.
The rest of the entries in the remaining journals almost seemed like they were being censored; however, they gave just enough away about Dean's psyche to keep Sam satisfied.
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Went back home. I'm still not sure how I feel about it. The damn house almost killed Sammy, well not the house, the demon in the house.
I tried to call dad again, but I just got that stupid voicemail. The man needs to get off his high horse and call us back for once. I know it must be for the best. He wouldn't do this if he didn't have a reason, but it sucks out loud anyway.
Mom's spirit saved us. Something about energies canceling out. I don't really care what happened because no matter how you slice it, she isn't ever going to be able to come back. It's not fair.
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Sam tried to kill me today. I totally saw that one coming. He wants to 'talk' about it. I don't know what they were teaching him in that college of his, but he really needs to hang up the chick flick moments.
And I want to know what the hell he talked about in that shrink's office. The kid was in there long enough to tell his whole life story and go back three generations. He probably needed it though.
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Dad finally called. He's on the trail of the thing -the demon that killed Mom.
He wanted us to go do some job in Indiana, something about missing couples. Sam, of course, got all pissy on me and decided he needed to go do his own thing, so he left to go find Dad.
Long story short, I got "captured" (I was handling it) by the local loons and offered up as a sacrifice with this really cute chick, Emily. Almost got killed, but Sam showed up (I had a plan, though).
So overall I think it was a good experience and I managed to fill my chick-flick quota for the year, so I'm good.
And dammit if I still haven't gotten any damn apple pie.
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I almost had my life snuffed out by a freaking rawhead a couple of days ago. The doctors said I was gonna die. Stupid doctors.
I can't say I'm happy, though. (crossed out) Layla would still be alive if (crossed out) Certain people would still be alive if I hadn't been healed. I was angry at Sam, but he did what he had too. He didn't know. I probably would have done the same thing, not that he needs to know that. Let him sweat a little.
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Those fucking monsters took Sammy. I'll kill them.
I can't even go take a leak, before that kid gets himself in trouble. It's really putting a strain on my social life. If he ever does this again, I'll kill him. I swear I will.
I did manage to learn a lesson: Sam needs to get laid. He's such a wet blanket. Okay, two lessons: I need to work on getting some better "borrowed" IDs.
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'Wet blanket my ass,' Sam thought, as he turned the journal's final page and then shut the book. He started to reach for another one when he realized it was getting close to sunrise. It would have to wait for another day. Today, they had a job to do.