Something I thought of while day dreaming on a road trip. I'm setting this during the first season onward as the earlier seasons are the ones I know the best and feel most comfortable with.
I was leaned up against the wall, knees at my chest with the hard wooden doorframe of the closet digging into my skin. It was cold, it must have hurt too, but I couldn't really feel it. I couldn't really focus on it, or anything right now. Just that she was gone. Mom was dead. She'd been there every day, anytime I ever needed her she was always there exactly when and not a minute later and now, within the blink of an eye, she was gone. I heard someone clear their throat and I jumped. I looked up to spot an awkward looking teenage boy lurking in the doorway. I'd seen him earlier, when I'd first got here and dumped my stuff in this room. Bobby broke it to me shortly after, and I'd been up here ever since. I didn't really get the chance to know him, I was too consumed by what had happened. The only other thoughts in my head were, 'where's dad?' He's supposed to be here, the one telling me.
"So, uh, I heard you lost your mom," he said after a moment of me just staring at him. 'No shit.' I could feel my face twist with anger. Who was this guy anyway?
"Yeah, what's it to ya?" I bit, glaring at him as much as I could through the tears. My eyes burned, I could barely see.
"Well, uhh, I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry," he said, taking steps forward into the room. He knelt down in front of me first. "I wanted to tell you I know what it feels like and you're not alone." He crawled the last step to beside me and lay his legs out in front of him. He was staying, apparently. I took another swig of the whiskey I'd stolen. I shook my head. Just what I wanted to hear.
"Oh great, we can form a club," I said bitterly, high pitched and almost in a sob. "Tell me, did you really think coming in hear with you 'I'm here and I've been through the same things' speech was gonna change anything? You think it was mysteriously going to all go away, we'd hug and everything would be magically better? Huh!? Your mom being dead isn't bringing mine back."
I threw myself up off the floor. He wanted to stay in here? Fine. He would be here by himself. I took another swig, looking back momentarily at the bewildered teenager, he looked hurt. Almost as if even coming to see me was painful for him, and he was more hurt I'd just taken his efforts and booted them out the window. He was leaning up against the wall of the study when I reached the door, having stood up when I threw myself forward. I was angry. At him, at Bobby, my dad, everyone. Even my mom, how could she leave me? But I still felt a small pang when I looked back at the guy, I wanted to say sorry, I wanted to take it back but at the same time, I didn't think it was enough. I wanted to say more. Who the hell was this guy? Why was he so great?
"You might have lost your mom, but you know nothing of how I feel," I growled, walking out of the room finally, without sparring him a second thought. Fuck him.
Eventually, the feeling of wanting to say more dissipated and all I felt was guilty over what I'd said. He'd tried to do the right thing, to help me when I was hurting because even though our mothers didn't die in the same way, he still knew what it felt like to lose someone important to you. I wondered sometimes if me biting his head of had affected him. Had he never tried to help anyone again or had it rolled off him like water on a duck's back? Just how badly had I hurt him? I often asked myself this, when I was having a self pity party and drinking after a long day's work. When I can't sleep at night because of all the things we've seen over the years, sometimes I distract myself by thinking of him. Not that the terrible things I've done is better to think about than the terrible things I've seen. I went back to the house a little later that day, to say I was sorry, but by the time I did, Bobby told me he'd left. And I never saw him again. I often asked the fates to bring the two of us together again so I could make it up to him, apologise for how rude I'd been and all the grief I'd unfairly taken out on him.
However, I didn't mean like this.
I took a deep breath. The wax from the ball shining machine overpowered the scent of the salt ring, but it was no match for the blood trickling down my leg or the smell of broken wood, from the recently torn up floorboards. I shook as I brought the walkie talkie up to my mouth, trying desperately to stop my voice from quivering as I spoke. It was a comfort, at least, knowing that my little brother was tucked up safely in the passenger seat of the Chevelle reading my journal by torchlight. It was so dark in that little, desolate parking lot, that even if anyone did see my little blue car, no one would be able to see him. It had just rained, so the icy, winter mist would hopefully make him even less visible.
"Alex, you fall asleep on me?" I asked.
"Give me some credit," he grumbled, not doing much to counter the popular belief that teenagers were moody, sullen creatures of the night. "As always, I'm here waiting for you to need me."
"I need you to get my cell out of the glove box and call Pastor Jim and find out where the nearest hunter is," I told him. I looked down at the snapped bone protruding out of my leg. I needed help, I couldn't finish the job like this, and I couldn't have Alex come in here with the angry spirit roaming about. Or anyone else for that matter. And if Alex did call an ambulance, even if by some miracle they didn't get attacked, I'd be arrested for trespassing.
"Katie, if you need help I'm right outside, I'm sure I could hel.."
"NO!" I cried out, cutting him off. "Just stay in the car, call pastor Jim."
"Katie.." he started.
"Alex.." I replied, warning him not to argue with me right now. "Just do it."
"Right," he sighed, cutting off the transmitter. I knew he was anxious to get out there and go hunting, just like our parents, our mother who he could barely remember these days and everyone we grew up around. But, as his sole guardian, I needed to make sure he stayed safe and actually made it to adulthood.
A few more minutes that felt like hours came and went, the walkie-talkie crackled to life again. I let out a breath of relief and thanked my lucky stars, it wouldn't be long now. Just a little longer. I just needed to hold out a little longer.
"Katie, Pastor Jim says he'll send someone out. He says they're not far away. Are you sure you don't want me to come in there?" Alex asked, I could hear the worry in his voice, knowing he only wanted to help.
"Yeah, I'm sure. I'll be okay, plus I need you out there so when the other hunter gets here you can tell them what we're up against," I explained, looking over my hap-hazardously crafted salt ring. I clutched my gun in my shaking hands, trying to keep my breaths level.
"Okay, if you're sure," he agreed, finally, not sounding fully convinced.
"I'm sure," came my breathy response.
"Minnesota?" I asked, mentally calculating how quickly I could get to where he was asking me to go. "I'm on a job about a half hour away, maybe 15 minutes."
"Yeah sounded like a real emergency, stay safe and try to get there as quick as you can. The boy, Alex will fill you in when you get there," Pastor Jim explained, before rattling off the location a few towns over.
"Alright, I'll be there, gotta go Jim," I cut off the phone and dropped the lit match into the freshly dug up grave below me. The bones lit up in yellow flames and I grabbed the bag of salt and lighter fluid, heading back to the impala as quickly as possible. I jumped in the car, throwing the bag in the backseat and sped off. If Jim was calling, it was important.
"A bowling alley," I said to myself as I stood in the parking lot looking at the blue Chevrolet Chevelle with a boy who didn't look much older than 14 looking out the passenger side window at me. Not that I could see much in the parking lot with no lights. I looked up at the sign. Superior Lanes. Sounded snooty.
"My sister Katie's inside. We thought it was just a poltergeist but whatever it is she's having trouble in there and she won't let me come in," the teen explained through the window with a leather-bound notebook in his lap and a torch in his hand.
"It's probably best you stay out here kiddo," I started. "I'll go in there and sort this out. You just stay here and man the radio."
"That's what Katie said," he responded with a frown.
"It's good advise," I responded, going over to the impala to get my kit. I grabbed the duffle bag out of the backseat and put more lighter fluid, salt, and iron rounds into the bag. I grabbed the shotgun and more shells and got ready to move out.
It was nearly four in the morning when, over the radio, I heard my little brother Alex say that someone was here to help. I felt the morning chill more so, even though the witching hour was supposed to have passed. I told Alex, I made sure he was going to stay in the car and not come into the building before I agreed to let the hunter he was briefing inside. I heard the door crack as someone kicked it in and thundering footsteps come my way. I'd originally picked the lock on the door but when I'd gotten trapped in here, the "spirit" had locked it again. I didn't think much of it, I knew I could unlock it again once I killed the bastard. Although that proved more difficult than I'd once thought.
"Katie, you here?" I heard a deep, gruff sounding voice call out in the darkness of the bowling alley.
"Yeah, over here," I called, waving from beside the ball return of one of the lanes.
"Oh shit," he commented, staring at my leg.
"Get inside the salt circle, now," I ordered.
"Not much of a circle," He joked and stepped over the line, kneeling beside me. "Okay, let's get this leg looked at while you tell me what you know."
"We thought it was a poltergeist, we were wrong. It's still a spirit of some kind, but it's a lot stronger and suddenly a lot more vengeful. First it was just messing with people, making strange noises, moving objects, the usual, ahh," I pushed air out from between my teeth as he tried to pull my leg out straighter.
"Sorry," he apologised. He had taken the axe I'd had in my bag for breaking down the wall and removed the head. "You know, a sledgehammer would have been more useful," he commented.
"If I had one, don't you think I'd be using it right now?" I replied, trying to keep a lid on my temper. "Someone died here a month back and the place closed for renovations right after. It was the only recorded death here besides one other decades ago. We thought it was him but after I dug him up and burned the corpse and the ghost was still around, we found out about someone else. The manager was murdered right after the place closed for renovations and the staff have been terrorised, starting about a week ago. We found out about another death and he was buried in the walls," I gave the whole story.
"So the poltergeist turns to a vengeful spirit and gets a little cranky when you try to gank him," he replied, showing he was listening.
"Exactly, AHH!" I cried out as he straightened out my leg fully and tied the makeshift splint onto it.
"Sorry," he apologised again. "Where's the body?"
"In the wall behind the trophy cabinet, I was thrown here after I found the body, leg broke mid air. The landing didn't help," I breathed heavily, feeling much more tired, adrenalin wearing off.
"Come on," he gently slapped my face a few times, "stay awake."
"Sorry," I breathed.
"Alright, I'm going to go take care of this sucker," he replied, firing a shot off at the entity forming beside us. "Then we're going to get you out of here."
I nodded and he let me go, grabbing his duffle and cocking his shotgun, ready for the next appearance. I spotted it reforming before he did and fired an iron round that whizzed past the hunter. He turned back, briefly, to look at me before heading on to the trophy case. I heard several more shots after he'd left me there and I looked up to the figure growing more powerful and almost larger. I grabbed the ball return and pushed upward with my arms. I let out a cry and dragged myself from the ground, using it then, to prop me up.
I looked at the spirit and fired off rounds into it. It howled and came right at me like lightning. It was as if a speeding car was traveling towards me and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I let off more rounds and the salt ring caught it, preventing the spirit from reaching me. I fired off a few more iron rounds and it disappeared and reformed after each one.
I saw behind it, that the hunter had thrown a lighter behind the trophy case and the whole area caught fire. The ghost in front of me howled and screamed, charging at me one more time before vanishing forever. I dropped my gun to my side and clicked the safety back on, almost slid down the ball return.
"Katie, you alright?" the hunter called and jogged over to me.
"Yeah, I'm good. Let's get out of here," I replied and he packed up our things into the duffle bags. I slung an arm around his shoulder and he helped me limp over to the door.
The morning sun had started to rise and I looked out to the car where my baby brother was drooling on the windowsill, asleep. I laughed and when the hunter turned to me I pointed.
"Poor kid's all tuckered out," I said, breathing heavily, walking over to the car rather taking.
"Yeah he seemed pretty worried about you before I went in there," the hunter agreed.
"Hey, you look really familiar," I said staring at his chiselled face.
"Sweetheart, that's my line," he responded, shaking his head.
"No, I mean it," I replied. "Do you know Bobby Singer?"
"Do I? He basically raised me," he responded, leaning me up against his car while he got the door open.
"There were these brothers there one time my brother and I were there. My dad dropped us off there while he was on a job just after our mom died.." I explained.
"Ah, I never knew your name," he replied.
"You know, I always hoped to run into you again, to apologise. I didn't quite mean like this," I said as he helped me into the backseat, propping my leg up gently.
"You get blood on my car, you're cleaning it up, broken leg or not," he said as he closed the door, changing the subject. He opened the trunk and put his duffle inside and opened the door to the backseat again. "You got your keys?" he asked and I nodded.
"I'm sorry," I said to him and he shook his head at me.
"You think you can hang out a little longer while I move your car from the scene? I imagine your brother can't drive," he asked.
"Yeah, he's fourteen, he can't drive," I agreed. "We're staying at the motel two blocks away. Listen, it was unfair of me to take out my feelings on you, grieving or not. I'm sorry.."
"Dean," he introduced. "I'm okay, it's been a long, long time."
"It doesn't matter, I shouldn't have done it and I wanna make it up to you," I replied.
"Tell you what, when that leg's healed, you can help me out on a hunt to make it up to me. You kind of owe me after last night," he grinned.
"Done," I agreed, smiling as he closed the door and walked over to my car, getting in and driving away.