Chapter 4: Drawing Pictures with Some Chalk
"Home sweet home." I said, throwing myself onto the lumpy hotel mattress. "Ugh, not the best smell though." I said, taking a deep inhale of the dusty, moldy, and god knows what else filled mattress. "I could have told you that Charls." Dean replied, coming through the open motel room door. "I wish you would have, now I have that horrible smell stuck in my nostrils." I replied, sitting up giving him my famous cocky grin. "You're lucky you're still injured, or I'd be wresting you with that smart mouth of yours." He replied, sitting on the other side of the mattress. "I'm the damsel, the damsel in distress." I said giving him my all famous pouty look.
"You sure are good at finding distress for yourself, a damsel I am not so sure of." Sam said, coming out of the bathroom, still wet from a shower. "Gee that's nice, I now know how to treat you when you almost die." I said, getting up from the bed and brushing past him. Walking over to my duffle bag to get out the book I had stashed there earlier. I made sure to slam the door extra hard, just to show that I wasn't someone to be messed with. The way my life was going I probably broke the cheap ass door, oh well they did deserve it.
Sometimes I wondered if my brothers would even notice if I was gone. If that one day they woke up and the side of the crappy lumpy hotel mattress was made. And my beaten down duffle bags were packed and gone. If there was nothing left of me, down to the hair in the shower drain. If they would go looking for me in whatever hell hole town we were in that week. Of if they would just let me go. And if they let me go, if they would ever think about me from time to time. What a way to think right, to wonder if you're family truly loves you. Sure Dean is always saying Winchester's stick together through thick and thin. But I wonder if I truly am a Winchester, or if they found me on their doorstep one morning and decided to keep me.
A shadow fell over the page that I was trying to read, although I was unsuccessfully distracted by throwing myself the one person pity party. "What book are you reading?" A gruff voice broke me from my trance and I am sad to admit I jumped a couple of inches. "The second book of The Hunger Games." I replied, trying to settle my now on fire checks back to normal. "What did you think of the movie?" The stranger with the most gorgeous blue eyes asked, settling down on the curb beside me. "It's good, I have seen it four times." I said, an icy tone underlying my voice. I was hoping he'd get my point. "Oh and you one of those super fans, the ones that are all over the news?" He asked, a smile caught at the corner of his mouth. "No, sorry to disappoint you." I replied, standing up and brushing myself off.
"I didn't seem to catch your name, I'm Chase." The mysterious stranger said, holding out my book for me. "I have to go my brothers probably are wondering where I am." I replied, tucking my book under the crook of my arm. My theory was if anything attacked me I had my hands free. "Charlotte, Dean says he needs your help." Sam said, throwing open the door. His 6 foot 5 inch body towered in the door frame. "Bye." I said turning to Chase. "See you around?" He asked, curiosity filled his eyes. "It was nice meeting you." I said, closing the door.
My eyes burned with unshed tears as I leaned up against the closed door. "You okay Charls?" Dean asked, from his perch on the bed. "Yeah I'm fine." I replied, scrubbing at my check with my fist to get rid of the tears that managed to escape. "Charls, it's better not to get normal folk to get involved with us. You are just risking for them and you to get hurt. Trust me I know from experience." Sam said, coming over to me. "I'm fine." I said, ducking the hug Sam tried to engulf me in. "I'm going to get in the shower, let me know if you need anything." I said, putting my book back in its place in my duffle.
