Callie sighed as she put down her half empty beer bottle. She glanced around at the people around her, bored of of her wits. Even though this was her third bottle, she still didn't feel the satisfying buzz that used to be so easy to reach.
"You okay, Callie?" Asked the tall man behind the counter. Callie looked up at into his spot brown eyes. She then nodded slowly, not really positive on how she was feeling."I'm okay, Isaac. Just a little tired from working is all," Isaac nodded, running one of his dark hands through his dreads.
"D'you need a ride home?" Callie shook her head as a small smile came across her pink lips."No need to worry 'bout little ole me. I'm not even slightly buzzed yet. Isaac grunted as he started to wipe up the light wood counter clean with a blue rag.
"You're too young to be drinking like that."Isaac muttered chidingly. Callie rolled her doe brown eyes."I've been drinking ever since I was sixteen. Don't you worry about me,"
Isaac then rolled his eyes."Bad habits," he then shook his head."Just go home. You get work off tomorrow, but I'd better see your ass here the day after, you hear?" Callie nodded."Now get," he said, waving his rag at her. Callie sighed and stood up."I can see when I'm not wanted," she placed a five dollar bill on the counter."Tell the wife and kids I said hey,"
Isaac nodded at her and then began to wipe a mug. Callie turned and walked out of the bar, feeling the breezy outside air hit her bare arms. She was now wishing that she had brought a jacket to cover up her v-cut shirt. She also wished that she had worn more sensible shoes instead of her old cowboy boots.
The slight crunching sound from behind Callie made her go into a state of awareness. She stood there for a moment, listening to everything going on around her. But she couldn't hear the crunch anymore, so she continued to walk down the isolated and dirty road.
Deciding that it would be best for her to get home fast, she took a shortcut through a rough looking alley with no light. She got out her phone for some artificial light. But instead of taking her sweet time through the alley, she quickened her pace and ran.
It then only tool her seven minutes to arrive at her apartment. She walked normally upstairs and got to her room. She unlocked the door and then quickly locked it behind her.
She glanced dow. At her floor, making sure that the salt line was still in tact. After checking, Callie took a quick shower and changed into some basketball shorts and a small wife-beater with red socks. If you looked at Callie, the first thing that you would notice would be the freckles. She had a ton of them, all around the nose and cheeks region.
If you looked closer, you could see more noticeable features. Other features would be her big brown eyes and her pink lips. Another would be her long wavy caramel - not blond but not yet brown- hair that fell to the middle of her back.
A sigh radiated out of Callie's mouth. She was tired, but her gut-feeling told her to stay up a little while longer. And she always went with that feeling. Callie walled over to her small couch, laying down and grabbing the remote. She turned on the tv, which was now showing a stupid comedy show.
It wasn't long before her eyes shut involuntarily.
••••*••••
A loud crash woke Callie up. She sat up, grabbing the silver knife that she kept hidden in the cushioning on the couch. It was dark, and the only real light came from the window that was slightly ajar.
She didn't remember turning off the tv, putting a blanket on herself, or opening the window. Her eyes darted from place to place, looking for anything else that was out of the ordinary. But the. She heard snoring.
Her eyebrows were now furrowed in confusion, not really knowing about what was going on. She got up, the blanket dropping to her feet. She kicked it out of the way and made her way around her apartment, looking for the source of the snoring.
As she made her way to her bedroom, the snoring became louder. She gripped the knife tighter, making her knuckles turn white. Since her bedroom door was slightly open, she pushed it open further with the knife. She looked inside, seeing a large, dark lump on her bed. Snoring.
Anger rose in her chest. Who the hell was this, in her bed, snoring? She strode over, ready to stab whoever the hell it was. But as she intruder's face, she softened. "Dean?" She whispered.
Dean's eyes were closed, and his mouth was slightly open and drooling on her pillow. Which she'll have to burn later.
Her lips then curved into a mischievous smile. She put her knife down and crawled over to the other side of the bed. As she was safely under the covers, Dean turned abruptly, throwing his arm around her waist. She held in a laugh as she looked over at him.
She snuggled up closer to him enough to feel his breath on her and his body warmth."Dean," she called out, a little louder then she had before."Deaaaannn," Dean moved slightly, now on his back. Callie took this chance to sit on him. She grabbed her knife quickly, as he started to come around.
"Wha-" Callie pushed him down and put the knife to his throat."Why the hell are you here, Dean?" Dean's eyes widened, now staring at the knife.
"Hello to you, too." He said nonchalantly. Callie narrowed her eyes."Why the hell did you break into my house, in the middle of the night, and then come drool on my pillows?" She questioned. He shrugged."Tired from a day's long drive. But hey, I didn't want to wake you. You look so cute when you sleep," Callie rolled her eyes just as Dean grabbed her wrist, flinging the knife over to where she was just laying.
He then wrestled her to the ground. She glared up at him."You lost your touch, Curly Que. I'm shocked." Callie then elbowed him square in the chest. It was enough to knock the wind out of him but not enough to bruise a bone, as she usually does when she does that.
"Get off of me," she hissed."Why, you want to be on top, Cowgirl?" She started to push him, but he easily had fifty pounds and five inches on her."Magic word." He said like an adult would do to their child."Pretty please," she said through her teeth.
Dean got off, then helped Callie up. Dean then walked away and into her living room. Callie quickly followed."What the hell are you doing here?" She watched him walk around, running his hands over stuff as he did so."Can't I just stop by?"
"Not without an ulterior motive. I know you too well," she replied, sitting back down on her couch. Dean sighed."Dad hasn't been back in a few days," Callie sighed."He always comes back, Dean. John's a big boy." Dean shook his head."This is different. Here," he pulled out his cell phone and sat down next to her.
As the message started to roll, memories flooded her. The nostalgia hit her pretty hard. After the message stopped, Callie spoke up."There's an EVP on that," Dean nodded, smirking."Brings back memories, huh?" Callie sighed. She put her head in her hands.
"I can't,"she murmured."Why not?" Dean growled, eyeing the blonde."Because I'm happy here, Dean. I don't have to use a phony ID and I have a decent job," "So working at a bar is a decent job? It's practically Hooters in there."Callie quirked an eyebrow."And how would you know, Dean?" Dean shook his head."So, you weren't happy hunting? You weren't happy with me or Sam? Or Bobby? Or my dad?"
Callie rubbed her temples."That's not what I meant! You know that. Hell," she muttered the last part, not really knowing what to say next."You're not happy here," Dean stood up and walked over to the salt trail. He bent down and pinched it with his fingers, letting it fall back down to the ground.
"It's natural for you, Callie. You can't stop being a hunter."Callie sighed. Dean was right about that. Callie could never stop what came natural to her. It would be like giving up breathing or eating. Growing up that way, being raised as a hunter. It leaves a pretty big imprint on someone's life.
"I can't just up and leave..."Callie's voice trailed off."C'mon. You're bored with an apple-pie lifestyle," and again, Dean was right. She was bored with this lifestyle. She misses the adrenaline rushes, the fast food and her family. But then again, this was the closest thing to normal that she had gotten in a long time. Her mother wanted that for her.
"Callie, my dad was there for you when your folks died. He took you in. The least you could do is help me look for him."Dean's green eyes locked with Callie's brown."I know that John was there for me. You don't need to remind me." She got up and walked into the kitchen and got down two glasses. As she started to pour Coke into both, Dean walked over.
"I'm sorry, Callandra." She knew that he was being genuinely sincere because he used her real name. Not some stupid nickname. She sighed. She put the cup in front of him and they both sat down at her small circle table.
"Listen, if I go, promise me one thing."Dean nodded, and she could see his eyes getting softer and happier."Whatever you need, Freckles." She nodded."If I become... distant, please don't leave me alone a lot. Especially with liquor in the room." Dean nodded, a smile forming on his face."Done deal, Callie Bee."