Harvelle Supernatural
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural
Chapter 5: Hunted
Skylar's POV
It has been about a month since the whole Jo going on a hunt with the Winchesters. The tension was severely high that neither Mom nor Jo could speak to each other for a week. And when Jo made the final decision . . . Everything just crumbled from there.
"I'm going to be a hunter!" Jo yelled.
"Not under my roof you're not," Ellen yelled back.
"Fine," Jo snapped, grabbing two duffle bags and stormed off.
Since then we haven't seen her. On occasion, Jo would send me an email updating on how she was doing. Though when it comes to Ellen, she will send a postcard. Still, the Roadhouse feels empty and quiet without Jo here. She was the life of the party when it comes to poker. Now it's all business and such. Even the bedroom we grew up in seemed empty. As I wake up to an empty twin bed on the other side. I wonder if I'm going to feel this more when I'm at college.
Anyway, the Roadhouse was slow as usual. No one was ordering meals, mainly drinks, so I was on break. Ellen was working at the bar while I sat on a stool with today's three large envelopes from Springfield, Ohio, Peru Nebraska, and Chadron, Nebraska. All from three different colleges, Springfield being a spur of the moment, since Ellen said my grandparents went there. So I thought it would be interesting to see where my grandparents met and got engaged for its sentimental value.
However, I was still nervous, thinking these three were rejection letters. The last two had me devastated that I had to take a day off to calm down. So hopefully, these are acceptance letters. But I'm too scared to open them. Why am I scared, you may ask? Well, for a lot of things: rejections, leaving the nest, and growing up.
"Skylar," Ellen said. "If you don't open those letters, then I'll do it for you."
I chuckled, "I'm nervous."
"Sweetie, it's all right to be nervous. But it's now or never," She said.
"Can I have cranberry vodka?" I asked to settle the nerves.
Ellen's lips twitch into a small smile. She poured a glass of cranberry juice and added a tablespoon of vodka. I took the drink, taking a large sip to settle my nerves before opening the Springfield letter. I read a couple of sentences only to gasped eyes wide open.
"Skylar, what is it?" Ellen asked. "Did you get accepted?"
"I got accepted," I said.
"That's great!" She cheered, taking my hand. "I'm so proud."
I nodded as we went over the letter, unable to stop smiling.
The door opened, catching everyone's attention. I looked up and couldn't help but smile when seeing Sam Winchester. I can't wait to tell him the news since he helped me out with my applications. However, the look he had doesn't seem reasonable. He came over to Ellen and I, clearing his thought. Ellen didn't seem surprised as she continued cleaning glasses.
"Hi, Sam," I greeted.
"Hey, Sky, Ellen." Sam greeted back. "You don't seem that surprised to see me."
"Your brother's been calling, worried sick, and looking for you," Ellen said.
"Yeah," Sam said. "I figured he might."
"What's going on between you two?" Ellen asked.
"So, um . . . How's Jo?" Sam asked, changing the subject.
Ellen nodded, smiling at Sam's lame defense. She took a deep breath, "Well, we don't know. Or at least I don't."
"What do you mean?" Sam asked.
"I haven't seen her in weeks," Ellen answered. "She sends postcards and emails now and again."
"Well, what happened?" Sam asked.
"Well, after she worked that job with you boys, she decided she wanted to keep on hunting. I said, 'Not under my roof,' and she said 'Fine.' " Ellen explained.
Sam sighed, shaking his head. "So, I'm probably the last person you want to see right now."
Ellen and I chuckled at his words. As Ellen shook her head, "Oh, don't get me wrong. I wish I could blame the hell out of you boys. It would be easier. The truth is, it's not your fault. Sam, none of it is. I want you to know that I forgave your daddy a long time ago . . . for what happened to my Bill. I just don't think he ever forgave himself. "
"What did happen?" Sam asked.
I kicked Sam in the leg for talking about the actual death of Bill is too much for Ellen. He flinched, staring at me while I gave him a warning look. Meanwhile, Ellen stood there, watery eye lost in her memories for a moment.
"Mom?" I spoke.
"Um, so, why did you come here, Sweetie?" Ellen asked, changing the subject after snapping out of it.
"I need help," Sam answered.
I sighed, "I'll get Ash."
I handed Ellen the letters to keep them safe behind the counter before going to the backroom. One door with the sign of "Dr. Badass is. . ." with another sign attached saying, "In." I banged on the door over the loud rock music that conflicts with the bar's radio station.
"Ash!" I shouted. "Get your lazy ass out. Sam Winchester is here."
Three minutes later, Ash came out entirely dressed though hair a complete mess. Apparently, Ash likes to sleep in the nude. Learned that the hard way when accidentally entering his room in the afternoon to wake him up for work. Sadly, I saw him naked in bed; luckily, I caught his backside than the front. Otherwise, I might need red hot pokers to skewer my eyes out.
We joined Ellen and Sam, huddle in a group while murmuring what is going on.
"So, what am I looking for, Sam?" Ash asked.
"Other people, others . . . psychics like me," Sam answered, nervously. "As many as possible, and I need a nationwide search."
"But I thought there was no way to track them all down," Ellen said. "Not all of them had nursery fires like you did."
"Well . . . No, but some had to. Start there." Sam said.
"Okie Dokie," Ash said, walking back to his room to do his work.
Ellen headed to the kitchen while Sam and I went to the bar. I pour him a beer, which he accepted, taking a few gulps. I chuckled before getting back to my letters. So far, I got accepted to Springfield; now let's see what the others have to say. I opened Peru and read it, smiling even more.
"What're you smiling about?" Sam asked.
I chuckled, handing him the letter. He took the document reading every word and laughed,
"Congratulations."
"Yeah, and I also got accept to Springfield University," I added, holding the other letter. "Now, I got to check on Chardon."
"You know, the saying goes if you get a large envelope, it means you got accepted," Sam said.
"Apparently so. Last month I got two small ones and was devastated. But now, to see these three . . . it just makes my day." I said.
"So, what are you majoring in?" Sam asked.
"Arts and science," I answered. "Majoring in graphic arts and photography."
"Cool," Sam said.
"Hey, you went to Stanford . . . what were you majoring in?" I asked.
"Um . . . Law. In fact, about a year ago, I got an interview for graduates. Could have gone to any law school," He answered.
"How come you didn't take it if you don't mind me asking?" I murmured.
Sam sighed, taking a sip of his beer, "My Dad went missing, and Dean asked me to help him out and search for him. We didn't find him and solved a case . . . But when I got back, my girlfriend Jessica was killed. She was murdered the same way as my mom, by the same demon."
"Sam, I'm so sorry." I apologized and meant it.
Sam nodded, staring at his cast that held the beer. "I was going to ask her father's blessing on Thanksgiving then propose to her during the holidays. And it's my fault that she's dead."
I place a hand on his. "Sam, don't blame yourself for something you couldn't predict. Jessica wouldn't approve of this. She's probably yelling or whatever she does when she gets angry at you if she saw you like this."
Sam stared at my hand, then snorted, nodding to that. "Probably gives this look and smack me behind the head."
I chuckled, "I think most girls do that."
We changed the subject by talking about ordinary things: from good books, authors, music, and movies. Apparently, Sam is into both classic rock and modern music. Although Dean always controls the radio that he is stuck listening to bands from the '80s and under. I told him I was more into today's alternative music, bands such as Muse, Nickleback, All-American Rejects, and such. We talk about Victor Hugo, Tolkien, anything that wasn't supernatural.
About two hours later did Ash come out of his cave. "Done . . . and done."
"That was fast," Sam said, surprised till looking at his watch.
Time flies when you're talking. Then again, what would take two days' worth Ash could do in an hour? What I think he was learning to be a computer expert for the FBI or CIA or something. Anyway, back to the main point.
"Well, apparently, that's my job," Ash said, taking a seat. "Make a monkey dance."
"Just tell us what you got, Ash," Ellen said, joining the group.
"Four folks fit the profile nationwide," Ash said, reading off a card. "Born in '83, mother died in a nursery fire, the whole shebang."
"Four? That's it?" Sam asked.
"Yep. Sam Winchester from Lawrence, Kansas, Max Miller from Saginaw, Michigan, Andrew Gallagher from Guthrie, Oklahoma, and another name – Scott Carey." Ash listed. As he tossed the card to Sam.
Sam caught it, looking at the card. "What? You got an address?"
"Kind of," Ash said. "The Arbor Hills Cemetery in Lafayette, Indiana. Plot 486."
"So he's dead?" Sam asked.
"Killed about a month ago," Ash answered.
"How?" I asked.
"Stabbed. Parking lot," Ash answered. "Fuzz don't have much – no suspects. "
Sam nodded, gulping his beer, "All right. Thank you."
As Sam got up, Ash tried to steal his drink. But I smacked him on the wrist, which he pulled back dramatically. Ellen shook her head till spotting Sam was officially leaving.
"Where are you going?" Ellen asked.
"Indiana," Sam answered.
"Sam, I got to call Dean." Ellen said. "I've got to let him know where you are."
"Ellen, I'm trying to find answers to who I am, and my brother means well, but he can't protect me from that," Sam said. "Please."
Ellen sighed, letting Sam go.
"Bye, Sam," I called out.
"Bye, Skylar, good luck at college," Sam said.
With that said, Sam headed off for his mission. I just hope it doesn't get himself killed. Of course, mom called Dean the next day. She said, if I quote, "They say you can't protect your loved ones forever. Well, I say screw that. What else is family for?"
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