My breathing speeds up. It been almost an hour that I began to practice on the punching bag in front of me. My fists are bloody now because I forgot my gloves. I continue to punch without worrying. I can always check it out when I'll be bored of this shitty place, anyway. I need to be able to bear the pain.
The sound of footsteps makes me stop. There isn't supposed to be anyone here at this time. Hell, I even had to make my way in with a bobby pin. So, who is it?
I slowly get a gun out of my sports bag and aim towards the noise. I keep my breath steady, trying to hide my presence.
"Gelly! I know you're in here!" Calls an oh-so-familiar voice who after my silence, mutters: "Somewhere…".
I smirk, knowing that my oldest brother can be dumb sometimes. I wait that he passes the wall where I'm hiding, and I took action. I quietly make my way behind him and deliver a good kick behind his knees which makes him stumble forward. I know that he's fast so, at the second he puts his hands in front of him to stop the fall, I quickly draw my gun to the back of his head.
"Bang!" I exclaim victoriously. "I win!"
"You're becoming better, kiddo." Dean points.
"I was born better, loser. I was beating you and Sammy when I was seven." I tease back.
I help him get up and automatically my fist collides with his stomach.
"What was that for?" He shouts, out of air.
"Um… I don't know." I explain sarcastically, taking a pensive look. "Maybe because you left me alone for THREE FUCKING WEEKS! You just took off in the middle of the night and you haven't contacted me since. Do you really expect me to forget that?"
I know that I'm making a scene right now but, being a part of the Winchester family can be frustrating. Especially when my brother is so close-up about emotions. But I was still surprised by my out-burst…
"I left a note." He mumbles.
"Yeah, you left one. "Don't worry, I'll be back soon." How is that supposed to calm my nerves."
"I know you're upset, Angy. But look, I saw a possible case in New Orleans. Probably voodoo. I know you don't really like voodoo, so I figure I'll do it on my own. Fast and easy.
"And you didn't think about calling me at least?" I could feel my anger died down.
"I'm sorry, okay?" I immediately cool off with his words. Dean never apologizes. I took a deep breath. I know that he could be a bitch if he didn't have his dose of fresh air from time to time. Besides, the last thing that I would've want was to deal with two pissed-off Winchesters. "I'm sorry, Gelly. I left you alone with Dad and he was probably out of his mind after he saw that I was gone."
The memory of that specific moment makes me shiver.
"No, he didn't even acknowledge the fact…, too drunk, I guess…" The lies roll off my mouth without getting Dean's suspicion.
I place a fake smile on my face, changing the subject. "You know that I hate that old nickname. I could kill you just for bringing it back."
"Love you too." He smirks, bringing me against him for a hug.
"I missed you, Dean-O." I confess truly, locking my arms around him.
After a few seconds, I feel his hands going alongside his body. "Okay, enough with the chick-flick moment." He groans in annoyance. Seeing that I hadn't made a move, he starts tickling me. I punch his chest playfully.
"Okay, now," his smile ices, and he regains his seriousness. "When was the last time you've seen Dad?"
"A couple of days after you took off, why?"
"He left a voicemail, and… I don't know what to think of it…" He takes his cell phone out of his pocket and plays the call.
"Dean, something is starting to happen. I think it's serious. I need to try to figure out what's going on. Be very careful, Dean. We're all in danger."
The voice of my dad was distorted by some weird noises. "There's definitely EVP's on that." I comment, receiving a proud glance from my brother.
"I'm impressed, Angy." He smiled. "Thought that you would be rusty."
I slap the back of his head, like each time he was being stupid. He plays the call on slow motion and I couldn't help but wince with all the shrieking interference. It was quite difficult but the words "I can never go home" resound clearly.
"If I could at least know where he took off." He growls, angry because he didn't know where to look first. I stare into the tiredness of his eyes. Like this, my brother looks ten years older, his face stained with sleepless nights. I was worried about him; Dean was a guy who takes every matter on his shoulders. He wants to protect everyone like he was trained to do since mom's death. And more than anything, he loves his family. With Sam off to Stanford, it's clear he couldn't bear to lose Dad too. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I would so regret this later.
"I think I know where he could be…" I announce, while searching in my bag for what I was looking for. Finally, I show the articles in my hand to my big brother. They're talking about some boys who disappear in California and I was pretty sure that Dad has gone to investigate it. "So, Jericho, California, then." Dean sighs, folding the papers. He begins to walk outside, but I stay paralyzed in place, incapable to make a move. I couldn't believe he was going like that, not questioning anything. He turns slightly toward me. "You comin'?"
I know I will regret this. Hell, I was already regretting it. But, Dean is my brother. You got to take care of your family, right? "Give me five minutes." I finally cave in. The light in his eyes was enough to justify everything for me. I know he didn't want to leave me here. Alone. I'm still his little sister. The one he always fell compel to protect. And as the little sister, I know my brother better than anyone else, I could tell all that just by seeing this single look in his emerald eyes.
I follow him, but when we entered the parking, I stop. In front of me stands the most beautiful of all the beauty. My brother's '67 Chevy Impala. "Damn…" I mutter. I run my finger along the roof. "Miss me, Baby?" I sigh happily.
"No flirting, you two." Dean warns me with a serious glare whilst sliding in the driver seat. I follow him, riding shotgun. A smile plasters on my face, I lean on the seat, enjoying the comforting feeling of the smooth leather mixed with the classic rock blazing in my ears.
I must have fallen asleep, because next thing I know we're parked in front of what seems like a college dorm.
"Where are we?" I ask, grogginess filling my voice.
He stays silent, looking intensely towards one of the windows.
"Okay, you're acting really weird." I sass. "Now, answer, where are we?"
He turns his gaze to me, unsureness in his eyes. I put an hand on his shoulder trying to put him at ease.
"We're at Stanford." He murmurs.