When Sam sat behind his book, doing research, he couldn't stop thinking about last night.
They sat on the couch the whole night, talking. Her laugh was a song. Her eyes a poem. He was falling for this girl and he didn't know why.
"Got us a new case?" Dean interrupted his daydreaming.
"Am, yea... There is some strage stuff happening in a town, a few hours from here. I'm thinking witches" Sam said
"Sounds like fun" a voice said from behind Sam. He turned. There she was, a beauty.
"Well, you're not going anywhere" Dean said "Not with those wounds"
"I'll be fine! I had worse"
"I stitched you up myslef" Sam said "and you are no fit to fight"
Clea rolled her eyes "Come on guys" she actually wanted to go. She needed the hunt. The thrill of chasing your prey. But of course she couldn't tell them that.
"I'll stay in the car. Promise. I just want to get out a bit"
Brothers looked at eachother "Okay" Dean said "But no funny business"
When they were driving in the car Dean couldn't hold his curiosity
"I have to ask" he said "How did you get that black eye? Is it like a from birth sort of thing?"
"No, actually" it was a result of her transformation from human to something not as humane. "You know David Bowie?" she asked
"Please" Dean said "Even Sam knows David Bowie"
Sam rolled his eyes.
"Well" Clea continued "I have a similar thing as he does. Only that he got his changing eye from a hit of his friend and I got my black eye from fighting a werewolf"
"I think it looks pretty great" Sam said a bit shyly and Clea couldn't help but smile.
They came to the town and checked in a motel. "So the report says there were three killings. No obvious connection exept the abnormality of deaths" Sam said "there is also a woman who said her husband was killed by flying scissors. I think we should start there"
As they walked through the town Clea had a strange feeling "Is something wrong?" Sam said, noticing her confusion. "No" she said "It's just... I had this strange feeling of dejavu. I'm sure its nothing though"
When the chevy stopped in front of the house Dean frowned "There is a big german shepherd staring directly at us"
"You're not gonna be scared away by a puppy, are you Dean?"
She got out of the car, Sam right behind her "You sit this one out remember?" he said "I'm not gonna fight a griefing widow Sammy" she said smiling. Why on earth would you used that name! She cursed herself. You don't call your killing target Sammy!
But she did see how his lips curled up and though she denied it, she liked it.
Sam got close to the door and the dog started barking.
"So, you any good with dogs?"
Clea shrugged "A barking dog doesn't bite, right?" she slowly opened the door and suprisingly the dog stopped barking. He wiggled his tail and started happily sniffing around Clea. They exchanged suprised glances.
"He seems nice" Sam said trying to pet him, but as he got close the dog growled.
"Okay, not my fan I guess"
Dean and Sam knocked on the front door while Clea stayed with the dog for a bit. There was again that feeling of dejavu.
She followed the brothers into the house. It was a cosy one. The hallway stretched into a big living room, on the left there was a kitchen. Clea didn't know how, but she knew there are stairs leading upstairs behind the door on the right. She opened them a little and then closed them right away. There were the stairs. She gulped and then head into the living room. Sam and Dean sat on the couch talking to a crying widow.
"This is our rookie agent" Sam said when she came into view. The crying lady looked up, hand streched out to greet her. But in the middle of the gesture she stopped. "Lilly?" she asked. Clea panicked. Who was this lady? Why did she know her?
"Oh, you came back!" said the lady and hugged Clea tightly. She didn't know what to do. The Winchesters were observing them with a puzzled look.
Lady cupped Clea's face in her hands "We thought something happened to you! Mark even went to the police and everything, oh but no matter now, you're back!"
Who is Mark?
"How I wish Charles could see you back" she said and started crying again.
For Clea this was a bit too much "Excuse me..." she said turning to leave, but knocking something off the decorative table beside her. She looked down. It was a pack of cards, now scattered around. Instead of the usual white color they were grey.
She knew this deck.
It was her brothers.
"Mark" she said.