Unlike
in all those movies you see, the heroes can't always get to the
danger in a split second. It takes some time, especially when the
oldest, ego crazed one is terrified of flying. Come on I can't be
the only one who finds the fact that Dean is terrified to fly
hilarious. But me, being the good girlfriend I was decided not to
bother Dean about his little fear.
About three days into our road
trip of driving all day and sleeping in the car at night the guys
finally gave into my whining and got us a hotel room. With the
excitement I had stepping into that room you would have thought it
was a Fairmont hotel instead of some dirty ass motel that smelled a
little funky. But hey, there are only so many nights you can sleep on
a leather bench seat in a car, plus the leather sticks to your skin
and hurts like a mother when you sit up, I wouldn't recommend
it.
So that night we (that's code for I) decided that we should
go to a bar and have some fun, god knows that researching ancient
mythology isn't exactly a party. For the first time in a long time
I changed out of one of my traditional faded 70's band t-shirts and
donned a much nicer button up shirt. I let down my honey blonde hair
from where I usually kept it in a knot at the back of my head and put
on some eye shadow that made my emerald-green eyes stand out even
more than they did naturally. I looked good and I was ready to go,
well, not get drunk since I hadn't touched any alcohol in years,
but I was ready to go dance and just have a good time. Doing things
that normal 23 three year olds got to do all the time, but just by
the fact that I got dealt a crappy hand meant I didn't get to do
normal stuff, I got to salt and burn bones of dead people. Lucky
me.
After I spent a ridiculously long around of time trying to
convince the guys to wear something other than their regular clothes,
I ended up following Dean out the door as he informed me,
"It's
not like anyone we know will be there, so there's no need to get
all dressed up."
It wasn't like I had been asking them to put
on a suit and tie.
Anyways back to what I was saying; after that
fruitless argument and a fairly short drive, we were standing in
front of a building that read "Blue Moon Bar," well this wasn't
exactly what I had meant when I had said we should go somewhere fun,
but what the hell? I was still holding out some hope that there would
be some music playing inside.
There was no music playing. The
bar was a total hole in the wall and the only customers other than us
were a bunch of hair, heavily tattooed biker guys.
I sighed and
sat in a booth were I proceeded to watch Sam and Dean down a large
quantity of beer. So much for my night on the town, it looked like it
was going to be a pretty uneventful evening in the life of Kaiden
Trent. I sighed and stared into the coke I had been drinking.
Well
that was until I spotted a juke box amidst those previously mentioned
bikers. I was on my feet in a flash, and was walking towards the juke
box without either Sam or Dean looking up from the newspaper article
they were seemingly consumed by.
I made my way across the bar in
no time at all, it's not exactly like that bar was huge, and was
weaving through the bikers, reciting a few, "Excuse me."s
One
or two of them whistled at me but I ignored them and concentrated on
picking my song, I inserted my quarters into the machine and made my
way to the small clearing in the tables as "Hot Blooded" by
Foreigner started blaring out of the juke box.
I have always loved
dancing and, this isn't be bragging or anything, but when I took
jazz dance class in the fourth grade I was by far the best.
Especially since I had a neon green leotard while all the other
stupid prissy girls had those baby pink ones.
Even thinking about
those dance classes made me smile, I had only been in them for a few
weeks while my dad and John Winchester were out on a hunt. Dean had
Sam had taken me every Tuesday and Thursday for the time until my ten
year-old self had gotten sick of all the teasing that the other girls
had thrown at me. I remember looking over one day during class at a
14 year-old Dean and Sam who was ten just like me, they were both
slouched over in their chairs looking uncomfortable, but as soon as I
caught Dean's eye he gave me a big smile.
Even back then I had
felt more at home with him then I ever had with my own father.
Although that was when I still saw him as the big brother that Brian
never was for me. Instead of now, I saw him as, well definitely not a
brother.
Anyways I had been dancing for no more than a couple
minutes when one of the disgusting bikers came up behind me and
danced uncomfortably close, I wouldn't have minded if it had been
Dean, but this guy was nothing like him.
I looked over to the
table and saw both of the Winchester men staring at me, well Sam was
looking at me, Dean was looking at the guy behind me and he had a
murderous look in his eye.
At that moment the hugely perverted man
grabbed my hips and turned me around, pressing his body against mine.
Well I was completely disgusted and majorly pissed off, I wrenched
myself out of his grasp and simultaneously punched him as hard as I
could in the nose. I felt something crunch underneath the force of my
knuckles, and soon enough he was on his knees trying to stop the
bleeding of a broken nose,
"You bitch! You bitch!" was all he
could manage.
I turned and smiled at Dean who had been making his
way over to where I was, when he saw my face he stopped and visibly
relaxed.
When I went back to face the group of bikers, a fist
connected with my face, then another, then another. The punches sent
my reeling. I had been hit three times before I heard a female
voice,
"You stupid slut! This is what you get for laying a hand
on my brother!"
I would have informed her that it was in fact
her brother who had laid his hands on me first, but as I opened my
mouth my entire head was forced down and a knee slammed into my face.
The pain was absolutely excruciating, and I prayed to god that my
nose hadn't broken. A pair of hands clasped onto my shoulders and
pulled me back. Well this is wonderful I thought, just in case I
wasn't getting my ass kicked enough, they felt the need to
double-gang me! Well that's when I heard whoever owned those hands
speak in a deep, sexy voice,
"If you lay another hand on my
girlfriend, I promise you that I will break every bone in your
body."
I realized it was Dean before my jumbled brain got even
more confused.
Why was Dean helping the other side in the fight? I
gave myself a mental shake and figured it out, Dean was saving my
ass. Man, he was good to have around for defense, plus he sounded
really hot doing it. I mean seriously, you just can't beat
that.
During these deep and insightful thoughts, Dean's voice
had become more and more aggravated as he talked with the bikers. As
I was coming back to reality from my own mind I felt him let go of my
shoulders and lung towards the bikers. I didn't get a look at what
he did after that since my balance was off from the multiple hits to
the face, I began swaying and was about to topple over when another
set of hands grabbed my arms,
"Dean just doesn't know when to
leave well enough alone." Said Sam in a more than slightly
aggravated voice
I had my eyes closed against the throbbing pain
of my entire face so I didn't see much of the fight other than from
when I opened them to see why we were moving forward. Sam had wrapped
his arm around me and moved us forward and with his free arm grabbed
his brother who was in a brawl that he was completely out numbered
in.
Once Sam had a grip on both of us he walked right out of the
bar, I looked back and saw the bikers who had been previously been
fighting with Dean, they all had shocked expressions on their faces.
I guess they had never had someone they were fighting grabbed by
their little brother and taken outside without saying a word.
When
we got outside Dean wrenched himself out of Sam's grasp,
"What
the hell dude? I had it under control!"
Sam didn't even bother
replying so to his brother's complaints, and when Dean realized
there wasn't going to be a conversation about it he turned his
attention to me,
"God, Kaiden, she really didn't a number on
you."
I still didn't have the energy or mental awareness, so I
instead let out a groan to demonstrate how I was feeling.
Dean
went to my side and wrapped his arm around me,
"I've got her
from here Sammy."
Sam shrugged,
"How you doing there
champ?" He asked me,
"Like crap." My brain had come together
enough for me to form basic sentences, "I just got my ass handed to
me by some chick."
I both felt and heard Dean chuckle,
"Well
if it makes you feel any better, she wasn't exactly the most
feminine thing." Sam informed me
"Dude!" Dean exclaimed,
"She had a friggen mustache!"
Okay, that made me feel a bit
better, if I had gotten beaten this bad by I girl in a sundress I
would have been royally pissed.
Dean helped me into the car and
slid into the backseat beside me. The fog that had been in my head
ever since that stupid biker chick smashed her knee into the bridge
of my nose had cleared, and I noticed a steady stream of blood coming
out of my nose. I uttered a curse and wiped it away, I was in a
crappy mood,
"Why didn't you guys leave me be? I had it under
control." I sounded just like Dean
Dean gave a humorless
laugh,
"Call me old fashioned, but I don't generally stand by
and watch my girlfriend get beaten to a bloody pulp."
I rolled
my eyes at his comment,
"It was completely unfair, she sucker
punched me. I'm not used to that. I am trained in hand to hand
combat, not hitting someone while they're not looking."
"And
the fact that she was twice your weight and height didn't help you
out." Piped in Sam from the front seat, a big smile on his
face,
"Shut up Sammy." I grumbled
Being called Sammy was
enough to wipe the grin off his face. Knowing how to bug Sam perked
me up enough to start thinking about some solutions to my fighting.
Maybe Dean would help me with my combat skills since it had been
years since I had been seriously trained. My dad had always just
slapped a shot gun in my hand and told me to go for it. The boy's
dad however trained them in every kind of fighting and taught them to
use every kind of weapon. Their father actually wanted them alive,
much unlike mine who until the day he died had only told me he loved
me like ten times.
We pulled into the parking lot of the motel we
were staying in,
"Hey Dean?" I asked as he helped me out of
the car
"Yea?"
"Could you help me out with my fight? So,
you know, I don't get the crap beaten out of me by some bar beast
again."
He smiled and looked down at me,
"Yea, of course I
will."
That had been the first time since the fight that I had
gotten a really good look at his face, and I felt really guilty that
he had gotten hurt on my account. His lip was split and there was the
beginning of a black eye forming on his right eye, not to mention
multiple other bruises scattered on his face.
He opened the door
of the motel and held it so I could walk into the room ahead of him
and Sam.
I walked to the mirror that was on the wall across the
room from the beds to check out the extent of the damage to my
face,
"Are you kidding me?" I demanded
My face was already
starting to swell and bruise, the worst was a horrible black and
yellow bruise that had only began spreading across my nose and check
bones.
I sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, I heard water
running and moments later Sam was handing me a cold wash cloth. I
held it to my poor nose, which felt awesome, the wash cloth, not the
current condition of my face,
"You know, ever since you guys
showed up I have been needing to be saved many times. This is getting
ridiculous. I mean seriously. I'm a fighter, not some damsel in
distress."
Dean sat down on the bed beside me, rubbing my back
comfortingly, I noticed that Sam had not gotten him a wash cloth,
maybe that's because Dean chose to get into a fight, while I was
thrown into one,
"Kaiden, right now don't you think that maybe
you aren't on your game 'cause you're still upset about your
dad?"
I have him an incredulous look and Sam added his two
sense,
"Which is perfectly understandable in a time like
this."
I didn't even feel like justifying their question with
a response, a 'time like this,' my father had died almost three
weeks ago. It wasn't a 'time like this' anymore, it was in the
past and I was more than ready to leave that memory behind. I just
wished people would quit bringing it up.
I walked into the
bathroom and began rinsing out the wash cloth and reapplied it to my
face.
I was sitting on the edge of the bath when I heard the door
of the room open and close. So I pulled myself up from where I was
sitting and walked into the main room where I was saw Sam sitting on
the bed nearest the door with his computer open on his lap,
"Sam,
where'd Dean go?" I asked
He answered without even looking up
from what he was typing,
"He went for a smoke."
At that
point I was confused to say the least,
"Uh, Sam, Dean doesn't
smoke."
The youngest Winchester brother finally looked up at me
and closed up lap-top,
"He said you already drove him to drink
and that did nothing, so the only thing he can think of to do was
take up smoking."
I stared at him with my mouth hanging open, I
pulled myself together, threw a pillow at Sam and walked out the
motel door.
The Impala wasn't in the parking spot it had been in
when we had come back to the motel from the bar. I figured Dean had
just went for some sort of drive, at least I hoped so, I really
didn't want to date a smoker.
Anyway I sat on a bench that was
right by the motel's run-down playground and was quickly lost in my
own thoughts. About twenty minutes later I heard the rumble of the
Impala's engine and saw the headlights as Dean's old car pulled
into the motel parking lot.
It was completely dark outside so when
Dean got out of his car he didn't notice his girlfriend sitting by
the rusty jungle-gym.
He walked into the motel room and less than
a minute later he was standing outside the door again, his head
looking quickly from side to side. I could see in the dim light
provided by the bulb on the wall above him that he was worried.
I
felt bad for him, I knew how much he cared, he had always looked out
for me just as much as he had his baby brother. I could only imagine
how he reacted when Sam had told me I left and he had no clue where I
went
Dean must have seen my outline or something since he pulled a
small flashlight out of the pocket of his dark brown, worn leather
jacket and began to walk in my direction,
"Kaiden? Is that you?"
he asked as he blinded me with his flashlight,
"Yes Dean." I
answered, shielding my eyes, "Are you trying to burn out my
retinas?"
He apologized, lowered the light and took a seat
beside me on the bench,
"Did you have a nice smoke?" I
inquired
He looked at me and laughed,
"Sammy told you about
that, eh?" I nodded my head, "I was just kidding around, although
I am worried about you."
Okay. For the record, I hate it when
people worry about me. No, I don't hate it. I despise it. It's
ridiculous, they should go spend their time worrying about someone
else. Because I can take care of myself, not that I demonstrated it
that night, but whatever, back to what I was saying.
I
laughed,
"Why are you worried about me?"
He turned and
looked at me, not that he could see much since the small town we were
in no-where Mississippi had minimal street lights and that night was
overcast, so there was no glow from the stars or the moon. I was
partially glad that he couldn't see my face, cause I had been
stressed about, I guess he noticed that but I was hoping that he
hadn't noticed my lack of sleeping and seeing the stress,
exhaustion and fear that I knew coated my face would not be a good
thing, at least for me.
He sighed, "Kay, you toss and turn in
your sleep. You're crying out in the middle of the night. And
that's only when you do sleep. Something's go you stressed and
freaked out and you won't let me in enough to tell me what's
going on. And-" he broke off and took a deep breath, running a hand
through his hair, "And that scares he hell out of me Kaiden."
I
guess he didn't need to see my face to read my emotions, and I also
guess he had noticed the few things I didn't want him to.
But
I'm sorry, he wouldn't have been sleeping all too well if he had
been having dreams about his brother being all psycho-killer.
Actually, at that point I hadn't had one for a day or two, but
that's besides the point.
Sometimes I wish Dean and Sam would
just turn down the observant and go all macho and ignore my feelings.
But of course they didn't, because I have bad karma, or whatever,
and anything I want to happen, the opposite will almost certainly
come around. It's like the story of my life: bad karma and
obnoxious comments.
I had been staring off into space in my usual
fashion, so when I snapped back into reality, I realized that Dean
had been talking to entire time I was zoned out. I felt kind of bad,
the guy was sharing his feelings with me, which I know is really hard
for him and I hadn't heard a word that had come out of his mouth. I
decided to take the safe route, nod my head and say,
"Yea Dean,
okay."
He stared at me for a few moments, almost in
shock,
"Okay? Seriously?"
I was beginning to wish I had
been paying attention to what he had been saying, I really wanted to
know what I had just agreed to
