Welcome everyone to my newest fanfic! As you can see, it has been a LONG WHILE since I have posted anything – a move to a new state, a new (surprise!) baby, and new job will do that to you! Now that I have time to write again, I wanted to get this down since my creative juices are now overflowing!
Since coronavirus, I have been binge-watching Netflix and finally started watching Supernatural – I don't know WHY it took me this long! LOL! I love this show and I'm now obsessed with the brothers! I'm already on season 7 and wanted to add my own twist and OCs to an already amazing plot line…
So – here's my latest – a Supernatural fanfic! I hope you enjoy!
All OCs are mine – no Supernatural characters and original plotlines belong to me, unfortunately!
Chapter 1 – Harvelle's Roadhouse
CHARLOTTE'S POV
I pulled into the parking lot of the "Harvelle's Roadhouse" and cut the engine of my 1970 Chevrolet Chevelle SS 454. "Ah, Thor," I said aloud, gently running my hands over the steering wheel, "home sweet home." I glanced in the rearview mirror, my bright blue eyes reflecting back at me, the bruise under my right eye looked fresh and raw. I ran my hands over my face, trying to look more refreshed than I felt. I pulled my dark, wavy hair from the hair tie and shook it out. "Here we go," I said out loud.
I got out of the car and shut the door, gently stretching my arms overhead to get all the kinks out. I glanced down at my thigh to see the cut I'd stitched before leaving Missouri. It had an angry red tinge to it and I knew I needed to get an antibiotic; Ash would definitely get me a prescription. I had been on the road all day and all night, eager to get home to my aunt, cousin, and best friend and have a good night's sleep. Right now, I just wanted to rest.
I grabbed my duffle from the trunk and made my way inside.
"Aunt Ellen! JB!" I yelled as I walked in the front door of the dark and dusty bar.
"Shhhh…mmm tryingtosleep," I heard someone mumble. I looked over at the pool table to see Ash passed out on his back, his arm across his face.
"Ash – dude. You have a bedroom!" I said affectionately, shaking my head. "You're such a nerd…"
"Mhhmm like it here. Go'way…" I rolled my eyes at my best friend as I walked into the kitchen to see the walk-in open. Jo and Ellen were working to load the fridge and hadn't heard me calling their names.
"Seriously!" I heard Jo saying, "I hate the way he leers at me. Dude, I have a face, it's up here!" Jo complained as she lifted a box of beer and handed it to her mom. "He constantly ogles my breasts. It's so annoying."
"Why don't you just punch him? That always works for me," I replied as Jo turned and squealed.
"Charlotte Daisy Harvelle, you can't just go around punching people!" Ellen piped in from the walk-in fridge. "Maybe he's just shy and can't look at Jo's face…"
I snorted. "Or maybe he's just a perv like the rest of 'em," I replied. "You should definitely slug him, JB. Or…I can just lay 'im out for ya..." I put my hands out in offertory.
Jo laughed and ran to hug me. "Ah, welcome home! I missed you, Charlotte!" I patted her back and squeezed her tight.
"Oh lord girl, what am I gonna do with you? The sheriff and judge already know you by name, and your arrest list is longer than anyone else I know. Not sure my brother would approve of me lettin' you go 'round punchin' everyone," Ellen replied as she wiped her hands on her jeans and stepped out of the fridge. Jo closed the door behind her, laughing in agreement. Ellen pulled me in for a long hug, then stepped back to look me over.
"Well, Daddy taught me how to punch and they all had it comin'. It comes with the territory," I retorted. "You know I ain't putting up with that shit. Look at my face and keep your hands off my ass – it ain't too much to ask." I shook my head. Ellen and Jo looked at each other, the former rolling her eyes as Jo laughed and shrugged.
"You got hurt," Ellen said, putting her hand gently on my face, turning my chin to see the shiner I sported under my right eye.
"Yeah, one of those black-eyed SOBs got a jump on me," I said. Ellen opened her mouth to comment, but I quickly cut her off. "Don't worry, Aunt Ellen, I ganked him just in time." Ellen shook her head.
"See you got cut in the process." She pointed to my thigh, just below my cut off shorts. "Where's Ash?" Ellen asked, moving to wipe down the counters, her way of keeping busy so as not to fuss over me, which she knew I hated. "He needs to get you some drugs."
"Passed out on the pool table again," Jo replied, resting her hip on the counter next to me.
"I guess we should go make sure he's still breathin'," I replied, setting my duffle bag on the counter. "I do owe him for last week."
"Ah yes, he did get you that nice demon knife," Ellen replied. "Though I do wish you'd just give up that life and stay here more…"
"Aunt Ellen," I replied, rolling my eyes as she looked at me, "we've had this conversation. I'll be here between hunts, but I am not stoppin'. I can't yet. I am only 24 and I have a lot left to do."
"Girl, 24 is old for hunting. You've been at it since you were 11. That's like two lifetimes." Ellen stepped forward and brushed my long dark hair behind my shoulder affectionately.
"And when I'm done, you'll be the first to know," I replied and turned away from her.
"Unless you're dead first," Ellen said softly. I held my tongue and walked through the swinging door to the bar, quickly followed by Jo.
"You know she's just worried," Jo said quietly as I stopped and took a deep breath, pinching the bridge of my nose as a migraine threatened to start. "She's a worry wart…"
"Yeah, I get it… but she always does this. I am a hunter. It's all I know." I leaned against the bar, suddenly hearing an awful racket outside. "What's that sound?" I asked as I looked out the grimy front windows at a rickety old van pulling in next to Thor. "Someone is here. I don't recognize them! We're closed."
"Shit," Jo replied, running over by the front door to grab the shotgun from the coatroom as I ducked down behind the bar, readying my hand over the handgun tucked into my hip. We could hear a loud voice calling out and then the two strange men talking to each other outside the door.
DEAN'S POV
We pulled up next to one of the hottest cars I'd seen in person. "Damn," I said to Sam, "would you look at that… that car is perfection!" I walked around the car, admiring the way it was clearly taken care of. "A 1970s, I think… perfect condition…" I marveled over the car as Sam rolled his eyes and closed his door. "And here I am pulling up in a goddamn soccer mom van!"
"Dude, it was the only thing Bobby had available. Beggars can't be choosers…" I rolled my eyes and stalked toward the bar, looking through the grimy window as Sam walked toward the side, yelling out to see if anyone was around.
"Come on," I said, "let's just go in."
CHARLOTTE'S POV
"Ash!" I whispered loudly, trying to get his attention. "Wake up, dumbass!" Ash rolled over and faced the opposite way, grumbling in his sleep. "Idiot." I squatted down and put my back against the short wall of the bar, positioning myself to see the front door and still remain hidden.
The two men opened the door, looking around as they walked inside, letting the door slam behind them. 'They're not really trying to be quiet,' I thought. They walked across the room, closer to where I was hidden and I held my breath.
From my vantage point, I could see them clearly – one was taller than the other was and had shaggy brown hair and a pretty boy face. The shorter one had closer cropped hair and was incredibly handsome, in a bad boy, James Dean kind of way. I couldn't look away from his face. He had full, pouty lips, a cleft chin covered with a days worth of stubble, and piercing green eyes. Any other day, I would have introduced myself immediately and shamelessly flirted with both of them; unfortunately, we usually didn't see their type in the bar, just old hunters and locals. But, given their unannounced arrival during the day time, I was uneasy and kept myself hidden.
The men both saw Ash at the same time and made their way over to them. I moved slightly to look over where Jo stood, still hiding in the coatroom, and gestured to Jo to stay hidden and wait for my signal. I glanced back at the kitchen and saw Aunt Ellen peering through the window. She held up her pistol to show me that she was armed and ready. I smiled and nodded.
"Hey, buddy!" the taller one called out as they walked toward Ash's chosen nap spot. The hot one walked up the two steps closer to Ash as the taller one glanced over toward the kitchen where Ellen was now lying in wait. I pulled the gun from my waistband and silently unlocked the safety.
"I'm guessing that isn't Ellen," the tall one said, looking around the bar.
"Yeah," replied the hot one replied as he looked at Ash. The tall one looked toward the kitchen again and walked toward the kitchen and thru the doors. The hottie turned back toward the bar and walked slowly to where I was hiding. I quickly gestured to Jo, who began slowly walking up behind him, shotgun up and ready. He stopped suddenly and Jo pressed the end of the barrel to his back.
I rolled my eyes and readied myself to come to the rescue. 'I know I taught you better, JB!' I thought, ready to throttle my cousin.
"Oh God," I heard him say, "I hope that's a shotgun."
Jo cocked the gun. "No, I'm just really happy to see you." I almost laughed aloud as I moved slightly to get a better angle to see both of them. The man put his hands out to his sides. "Don't move," Jo replied as she pressed the barrel harder into his back.
'Damnit, JB – rule number one – never put it that close!' I scolded her in my head as I got ready to pounce.
"No moving. Copy that," he replied. "You should know something, miss. When you pull a rifle on someone," he started, I rocked onto the ball of my toes, ready to spring, "you don't want to put it right against their back, because it makes it real easy," his green eyes flared and I was ready, "to do – " he spun and grabbed the barrel of the gun from Jo, quickly unloading it. I sprang silently from my hiding spot, and ran to Jo's defense. " – THAT!" he finished.
Before he knew what was happening, I'd clocked him across the bridge of his nose with the butt of my gun, and then aimed it square at his chest. Jo quickly disarmed him, grabbing the rifle from his hand and holding it, armed at the ready. He bent over in pain, grabbing his now bloody nose.
"Shit! What the hell?! SAM!" he yelled from his bent position in one of the hottest gravely voices I'd ever heard. "I could use some help in here! I can't see, damn it, where'd you even come from?!" he asked me, trying to stem the blood flow and look up at me. "I didn't even see you!" It was almost comical.
Instead of laughing, I sneered at him. "That was the whole point, dumbass."
"I can't freaking see…" he replied under his breath, squeezing his eyes shut and holding his nose.
Jo and I looked up to see Ellen leading the tall one – Sam – from the kitchen, his hands on the back of his head and her pistol pointed at his back. Something about their names had alarm bells ringing in my head.
"Sorry, Dean," Sam replied, "I can't right now. I'm a little tied up."
Ellen looked from Sam to Dean and back, as Dean stood up taller and glanced from Sam and Ellen to Jo and me.
"Sam? Dean?" Ellen asked, Sam and Dean both looking at her as she said their names. "Winchester?" She asked. The boys locked eyes, and then Sam turned to look at Ellen, curiosity plain on his face.
I looked at Ellen, my brain flickering with recognition. "John's sons?" I asked Ellen, still not dropping the gun from Dean. Dean looked at me in puzzlement, still holding his nose, his green eyes watering, his face clearly showing his wonder at how I knew his father's name. Ellen dropped her gun to her side, smiling widely, and nodded at Jo and me. "No way." I lowered my gun as well and motioned for Jo to drop hers.
"Son of a bitch!" Ellen laughed as she held her hand out to Sam. "I'm Ellen." Sam dropped his arms and reached out to shake her hand. "That's my daughter, Jo, and my niece, Charlotte."
"Hey," Jo said. I nodded at them. John was a good friend so I knew his boys would be good people too. He spoke so highly of them, I felt like we already knew them.
Dean looked at me. "You're not going to hit me again, are you?" He still held his nose, making my proud of my ability to get people where it hurt most.
"Only if you piss me off," I replied, winking at him and tucking my gun into back into my shorts.
DEAN'S POV
I watched as the leggy brunette walked away and behind the bar, grabbing a rag. She started to put ice into it as Ellen motioned for me and Sam to take a seat on the closest barstools. I couldn't take my eyes off of Charlotte, though, taking note of her small, curvaceous frame, long legs, and perky, firm ass. I could tell she turned a lot heads, even through my still watery and swelling eyes. I gently rubbed the tears from my eyes and tried to clear my vision as I heard Sam and Ellen getting acquainted.
Charlotte turned toward me and for the first time, I noticed her bright blue eyes and nearly flawless face, except for the bright black eye she was currently sporting.
"Here," she said, her hot southern accent heading straight for my groin; I almost groaned out loud. She grinned knowingly as she handed me the rag for my nose. "This should help bring that swelling down."
I cleared my throat, trying to hide my leering. "Sure looks like you could use some ice too," I said, gesturing to her eye. "What happened?" Her eyes flashed briefly, clearly not liking that I was asking her about her injury and I shrunk back a bit, suddenly intimidated by her.
She turned the tables on me in a flash. "Well, I got surprised by someone twice my size, unlike you," she replied, twirling her dark wavy hair around her finger and smirking at me, her eyes twinkling.
I could feel my face flush red. "Well that happens when you're surprised by a sneaky little sprite," I retorted. "You came out of nowhere." Jo laughed as she walked by, carrying a bucket of ice to put in the cooler behind the bar. I noticed she was also pretty, but Charlotte….Charlotte was gorgeous. I quickly turned my attention right back to her.
Charlotte smiled at me, her dimples appearing as she moved further down the bar, making my pants uncomfortably tight. She turned around, reached up and grabbed whiskey off the shelf, her black tank top riding up so I could see her taut belly over the top of her cut offs. I immediately felt warm all over and adjusted myself on the barstool. 'Get a grip, Winchester,' I thought.
"What can I get you boys?" she asked, as she turned back around and grabbed glasses from under the bar.
"I'll take a water," Sam replied. Charlotte smiled at him as she filled a glass with water and I felt a surge of jealousy. What the hell?
"Whiskey for me," I spoke up, swallowing hard as she glanced at me before she turned to Ellen.
"Aunt Ellen?"
"Same here, sweetie, and pour one for yourself. You just got here and you need to take a load off." Charlotte rolled her eyes, but poured whiskey on ice for all three of us. I found myself wondering where she had been, and if she was a hunter too. The more I watched her, the more I thought that was the case; she moved like a hunter, graceful and aware of her surroundings.
She turned to me and I flashed a mega-watt smile as she handed me the glass of whiskey. She winked subtly as she came around the bar and sat at the high-top table behind us. Ellen and Jo joined her, and Sam and I turned to face them. I rested an elbow on the bar, taking a quick drink of the burning liquid.
"So," I started, clearing my mind and getting to the task, "we're here because we heard the voicemail you left our dad. You said you could help." I looked at Sam and back to Ellen. "What does that mean?"
"The yellow-eyed demon," Ellen replied. I glanced at Sam again and back at Ellen. "We heard he was closing in on it. Wanted to see if we could offer some help - "
A pit formed in my stomach as I cut her off. "What? Was there an article in Hunters Weekly that we missed?" I snarled. "Who are you? How do you know about this?" I asked accusingly, feeling rage building up in my chest, the loss of our father still raw under the surface. I stared down Ellen.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Charlotte lean forward. "Simmer down, Dean," she quipped, her face full of rage. "John told us all about him the last time he was here." I felt my anger continue to simmer under the surface. "I told him I'd help if and when he needed. He kept in touch with me until about three weeks ago," she looked hard at me. "Then, we had some hunters come through last week; said he was closing in, so Ellen called and left him a message." She snarled at me, her pretty features twisted and blue eyes flashing. I silently wondered why dad kept her in the loop, my eyes fixed on hers.
"John was like family once," Ellen said softly.
"Funny," I replied, still feeling inexplicably angry, as I turned my attention back to Ellen, "he's never once mentioned any of you before. Why is that?" I watched Ellen and Charlotte exchange looks, my anger swirling on the edge of exploding.
"Well," Ellen replied, "you'll have to ask him that." I swallowed hard, keeping my emotions in check over thoughts of Dad, and saw Charlotte cock her head to the side as she observed me. I took a second to collect myself, stamping out my emotions. 'No time for that,' I thought.
I cleared my throat again. "So why exactly do we need YOUR help anyway? What's in it for us?" I asked snarkily.
"Hey – don't do us any favors," Charlotte replied angrily, her blue eyes flashing. "Look, if you don't want our help, FINE. Don't let the door hit ya where the good Lord split ya." I watched as she slid off her stool and walked behind the bar to pour another drink, taking a quick shot of whiskey. I looked back to see Jo staring down at her feet; Ellen looked disappointed in me, and I started to feel bad, an apology on the tip of my lips.
"Look, John would only send you if – " Ellen stopped, realization crossing her pretty features. "He…he didn't send you." I glanced over at Sam, who looked sadly at the floor. "He's alright isn't he?" I looked at the floor as tears burned the back of my eyes and I blinked them back. I wouldn't cry. No time for that.
"No," Sam replied sadly. "No, he isn't." I felt my chest constrict. "It was the demon, we think. He just got him before he got it, we guess." Jo looked at Ellen, surprised and Ellen's eyes filled with tears. I felt the emotions rise even higher to the surface and glanced over my shoulder to see Charlotte cover her mouth. I quickly stamped them out again, hating to show weakness, but my stomach burning from emotions and the whiskey.
"I'm so sorry," Ellen said softly.
I hardened my face. "It's okay. We're alright," I said staunchly.
"Really, Dean?" Ellen replied. "I know you were close – "
"No offense, lady, but you don't know anything. I said we're okay." Ellen tilted her head at me as I looked away.
"Hey," Charlotte spoke up angrily from behind us, "I only met John a year ago, and I am definitely NOT okay…it's perfectly normal to grieve." I turned and stared at her, unwilling to let my emotions show, hardening my eyes and expression.
"I'm fine," I said through gritted teeth.
She scowled at me. "Whatever macho man," she replied, knocking back another shot. I rolled my eyes and turned forward again, irritated with the women, but mostly myself.
Sam spoke up after a minute. "Look. If you could help…we could use all the help we can get." I turned and gave him a look, angry that my brother would say we needed anyone's help. We were fine on our own.
"Well," Ellen replied, looking at Jo, "we can't. But, Ash will."
"Who's Ash?" I asked, glancing at Charlotte behind us. She smiled.
CHARLOTTE'S POV
"ASH!" I hollered across the bar. "Wake up, dumbass!"
We all watched as the man passed out on the pool table jumped up. "What?" He asked, his mullet swinging around as he flounced around on the table. "Isitclosingtime?" He sat up, rubbing his head. He looked at me. "Charlotte! Babe! When did you get back?" he asked, sitting up and hitting his head on the light.
"Babe?" Dean asked, looking at me quizzically. I grinned at him, enjoying the half-jealous/half-incredulous look he gave me.
"That's Ash?" Sam asked her, his face full of confusion. Ellen and Jo excused themselves to go make lunch.
"Sure is, sugar lips," I replied to the handsome, taller brother. "He's a genius." My eyes slid to Dean, who was staring at me through narrowed eyes, jealously rearing in his smoldering gaze as he heard the nickname I just gave his brother. 'Interesting,' I thought, grinning widely at him and throwing him a wink.
Ash stumbled over to the bar and threw his arms around my neck. "Hey gorgeous! When did you get back?" He backed up and checked me out from head to toe. "What happened to your eye? Look at your thigh!" he pointed to my cut. "I need to get you some antibiotics ordered right now." He wandered off to the back toward his room, talking to himself.
"THAT GUY is a genius?" Dean asked incredulously, pointing to his back. "He looks like a roadie for Lynard Skynard!"
"Hey – you shut your face," I replied, feeling the heat rise to her cheeks. "He's one of my best friends and he's a fucking genius!" I glared at Dean, who looked ashamed for a brief moment.
Ash made his way back with his laptop and put it on the bar. I grabbed him a beer and plopped it in front of him, planting a kiss on his cheek. He grinned at me and pulled me to him, kissing my forehead and running his hand through my hair. "Ah, I love you, Charlotte Daisy. Still waiting for you to run away with me, be my wife, you sexy minx…"
I rolled my eyes and gently pushed him away. "In your dreams, Ash! Now help us out…" I grinned at him. He groaned and tapped my nose. I saw Dean give Sam a look and Sam smiled; Dean rolled his eyes this time, which made me laugh aloud. Ash was a big old weirdo, but he was one of my best friends in the world and I loved him, even if he was in love with me. We just let it roll that way and no one else could understand... it didn't matter to us.
"I heard what you said about me, pretty boy," Ash said to Dean, "but, I still like you, man. Lynard Skynard was a great band. So I'll let that slide." I laughed. "And my world's sexiest friend here is right," he gestured to me, as I grinned affectionately back at him, "I am a genius." He made a production of stretching out his fingers over the keyboard. "Now, how can this genius help you pretty boys?"
I gestured to Dean to sit down next to him. Dean gave me a look and sat down, sliding a brown journal over to Ash. "Okay then…this is our Dad's journal. It's his life's work."
Ash shifted through all of the papers as they watched him. "There's no way. This stuff is all…" I turned my back as Ash started using all his big words to explain to the guys what he could do to help them, and zoned out as I wiped down some of the glasses that were placed on the counter from the washer and putting them away.
I couldn't believe that John was gone. He was just at the bar not long ago, going on about the yellow-eyed demon, excited about how he was closing in and ready to get revenge. It was something I knew about – revenge – and something John and I talked a lot about. I closed my eyes, flashing back to the demon that had possessed my father, and the burning sensation in my stomach flared up…that yellow-eyed demon was going to die one fucking way or another...
"Hey, Ash!" I heard Dean call out, interrupting my thoughts. I turned to see Ash headed toward his room/office and stop to face Dean again. "By the way, I, uh, dig the haircut." Dean smirked, flashing a smile at me.
I snickered, knowing Ash was obsessed with his hair and couldn't wait to hear his response. "You know…all business in the front," he ran his hand over the top of his head, "and," he flounced his hair around, "party in the back." He winked as he turned to walk away, a proud bounce in his steps.
Sam laughed and Dean's face looked surprised. I grinned as I walked out from behind the bar, Dean's eyes following me. Ellen and Jo returned to the bar with food for everyone and Sam started a conversation with them.
I stopped by the register to pick up a file folder as I felt Dean slide onto a stool beside me. I ignored him until he loudly cleared his throat.
"What's that?" he asked. I kept my eyes on the folder and didn't look up at him, scanning over the papers.
"It's a case I left behind last week. Getting back to it now."
He was quiet for a second. "You're a hunter?" he asked quietly, his deep voice sending a jolt through my body. I put my tongue between my teeth, and inhaled deeply to stop from reacting. I tried my best to clear my head. I had no time for a man, especially one with clear masochistic, macho tendencies.
"Gee…what gave that away?" I asked, still not looking at him as I poured over the newspaper articles Ash had printed for me.
"I can just tell," he replied, leaning toward me to look over my shoulder. I turned to him, his green eyes and handsome face inches from mine. "You carry yourself like a hunter. You seem smart, strong, aware…" I leaned away from him and walked behind the bar again, putting distance between us. I hated when men pried, which was something the oldest Winchester had learned the hard way.
"Yeah, well, you win the prize." I closed the folder and looked hard at his face.
"How'd you get into the life?" he asked, tilting his head at me.
"My father and Jo's dad. They were both hunters."
"Were?" he asked, staring into my eyes, genuinely wanting to know.
"Yes. They're dead." I deadpanned. Dean looked contrite.
"I'm sorry." he replied quickly. I shrugged.
"It's okay. Jo's dad died a few years ago." I looked over at Jo and Ellen, my eyes burning with tears I wouldn't let fall. "She was just a kid…"
"And your dad?" he asked carefully.
"Last year. And no, I don't wanna talk about it." I looked hard at him again, daring him to speak. I was not one to share stories with a complete stranger. It took John months to get to that point.
He nodded. "I can relate." He cleared his throat and looked away.
I softened my expression. "For what it's worth…John was a good guy. A great hunter." Dean nodded, swallowing hard as he looked away. "He was a good friend…"
"Yeah." He rubbed the back of his head, then fixed his green eyes on me, looking confident and changing the subject. "So…Ash says we have 51 hours to waste." He smiled sweetly. "Maybe tonight we should, uh…" he trailed off as I fixed him with a stony face. I almost laughed as he started to look uncomfortable. He stuttered, "Oh. O-KAY. N-never mind…"
"What?" I smirked at him, loving watching him squirm.
"Nothing. Just, uh, wrong place, wrong time?" he said, looking super uncomfortable. I smiled and put my elbows on the bar, leaning closer to him. I wanted to make him uncomfortable, but I was also feeling a strange pull toward him. It was off-putting and I wanted to try and get it under control in a hurry.
"You know…" I tossed my hair over my shoulder, "I thought you were gonna toss me some cheap ass pick up line, Dean Winchester…" he grunted, looking squeamishly around, as I leaned across the bar, my chin resting in my hand. "Most guys who walk through that door think I'll just fall into bed with them. All they gotta do is try and ply me with liquor and I'll just follow them on home…." I leaned closer, noticing the light dusting of freckles across his nose and smelling the coffee and mint on his breath.
He fixed his green eyes on mine. "What a bunch of douchebags…" His breath hitched. "Seriously. Who do they think they are?"
I laughed aloud. "Not you, huh?" I titled my head, staring into his eyes, feeling dampness between my legs in spite of myself.
He grinned, his dimples showing and I almost contemplated saying yes. "Nah, not me," he choked out.
I cleared my throat and leaned back, standing up straight. "Good. I'd hate to find out you were a douchebag." He laughed as Sam came over and settled himself on the stool next to him.
"What are you two talking about?" Sam asked.
Dean cleared his throat and sat back, adjusting himself on the seat, which I noticed and almost laughed again. "Oh, our friend Charlotte here is a fellow hunter," Dean announced. "And she has a case."
I felt heat rise in my face and I glared at him for a moment. "It's my case." I gave them both an indignant look.
"Yeah, but we have 51 hours to waste…and since I'm not occupying my time otherwise," he winked at me and I thought about hitting him again, "we can help you. If you want, that is…"
I took a deep breath and looked at Dean, his green eyes earnest and flirty, then back at Sam, who looked so innocent and eager to help. I shook my head and rolled my eyes. They were annoying, and oh so much like their father. And so just like John, I gave in.
"Those big brown eyes are gonna be the death of me, sugar lips," I said to Sam as he smiled and blushed. Dean grunted and narrowed his eyes, but I ignored him.
"Here…" I said, sliding the folder to Sam as he opened it. "Dad and I caught a very similar case a few years ago at a carnival with parents being killed. We thought we took care of it, but there's been a resurgence." Sam opened the folder. "'cept now it's killer clowns."
Sam looked at Dean, who smiled big, his eyes shining brightly. I was confused.
"Clowns?" Sam replied, swallowing hard.
"Clowns," Dean replied, laughter in his voice.
I looked from Dean to Sam and back. "Don't make me regret this," I replied, rolling my eyes at them.
Sorry so long – wanted to introduce my characters and show the newly formed friendships and dynamics! Don't forget to review!
