I wake up the next morning with no memory of the past few days. As you can imagine, when I realize I am in a strange place, I freak out a little. It takes a while for the memories to come back. When they do, I have a hard time keeping myself from crying. But I make sure that I don't. I can't. As much as I want to, I can't. Dean, I feel, truly is concerned for me, and I can't make him go through being worried again.
I know it's going to take a while for me to adjust to everything, the main thing being my family's death. They're gone, and I can't bring them back. I still can barely believe what I saw less than 36 hours ago. Besides the fact that they're gone, I can't believe that my brother gave himself up so I could have longer. I mean, he'd always been my older brother and I loved him, but I never knew that he was so selfless and brave. He must have known that we were going to die, and he could have run away and left me there. Instead, he got his death over with longer, and it saved my life. I don't understand how he could be so selfless. My parents being selfless is something I can understand, because they were my parents. But Zack? It's hard to believe.
And then there's the fact that I'm living in a bunker in the middle of nowhere Kansas. Kansas itself is, in my opinion, the middle of nowhere. I'm probably never going to go to school ever again. I'm probably never even going to interact with anyone my own age again. I am even starting to believe that I'll never even go outside again. If I do, where do I go? There's nothing around for miles.
And then there were Dean and Sam. Dean, I know immediately, will be my friend. I know that I will grow to trust him and love him. It seems almost impossible right now, but Dean has made it clear that he truly cares about me, and I really want to love someone. I need someone to fill up the aching gap that was ripped out by those demons, even if it's only filled up a little. Dean barely knows me, and yet he still cares about me. He's giving me a home, and I know I'm safe here.
Sam the moose is someone I'm not quite sure about. So far he's been nothing but rude to me, and I know that I probably won't really end up liking him. I don't see what his problem is with me. I didn't do anything to him. But, at the same time, I can understand that he's not very happy to have this huge change put on him. Maybe, I think, he'll warm up to me as he gets used to me being around.
And then there's the whole tattoo situation. I prod it with my finger, and it's sore. The symbol on my shoulder looks like one of those symbols satanists would have. I know that I have it on for protection, but I don't see how a simple symbol can protect me from anything, especially something as powerful as demon possession. The only reason why I believed that demons could possess people is because that news reporter lady said that the two men who killed my parents and brother were accountants from Delaware.
I decide that there's no point in staying in bed. The only people who can give me any answers to the thousands of questions in my head are Dean and Sam. I just hope that they're up. So, I get up and run my fingers through my now short hair. (that would also take some time to get used to) I don't put on anything different, because I figure that I have so little, and I should be able to make a set of clothes at least for a couple days.
I walk down the hall. The white marble floor is cold against my feet, but I don't mind. The cold helps wake me up, somehow. I find Sam and Dean in the kitchen. Dean is already making what looks like scrambled eggs. He adds a bucket load of cheese to the mix, just like my dad used to do. I smile. "Morning Skylar," he says. "You hungry?"
I shake my head, because I figure that there is no way I can be hungry after everything that happened. Then, my stomach betrays me and lets out a large growl. Dean laughs, and my face turns a little red. "I'll take that as a yes," he says. He gestures for me to sit down at the big polished wooden table.
The chair I sit down in is surprisingly comfortable, but I feel really strange sitting there. This entire building feels strange to me. I decide that it's just because it's unfamiliar. I'm sitting next to Sam, who's on a laptop looking for something. "Whacha looking at?" I ask him, and I try to look at whatever is on the computer screen. Sam gives me a menacing look. "Sorry, I'm just curious," I murmur.
"Sam, I told you to be nice," Dean says from the stove. He plates the eggs and gives me a plate with a good amount of food on it, and he gives Sam the plate with a towering amount. Dean's plate is somewhere in the middle. He goes to a drawer in the kitchen and gets a fork for each of us. He sits across from Sam and me. "How'd you sleep?" Dean asks me.
"Surprisingly, great," I say. I take a forkful of the food and plop it into my mouth. I have to admit, Dean's a better cook than either of my parents. Both of my parents always either burned or undercooked everything. These ones are cooked perfectly. "These are really good," I say.
Dean smiles. "Thanks," he says. He turns to Sam, who is intensely involved in whatever he's looking at. "Got a case?" Dean asks.
Sam shrugs. "I'm not sure if this is our thing, but there's this one guy that people are swearing was killed by a werewolf," he says.
"It's probably just a rabid dog or something. Anything else?" Dean asks, shoving a forkful into his mouth.
"Possible vampire attack, but I think we should leave it to someone else. Seems like it's at most one or two. That should be really easy."
As you can imagine, I am starting to freak out. I try to hide it, but, until the night before last, I thought that the world was, well, normal. As normal as it could be, anyway. There was all the evil and stuff that the world was expected to have. What I mean is that I had no clue that the supernatural existed until the night before last.
Sam looks over my way and studies my face for a few seconds, and then laughs. "I think we owe her an explanation," Dean says. I give them a look that says 'well, you think?' "What do you want to know?" he asks me.
"Everything," I say simply.
Sam and Dean are impressed with my answer, and nod. "Almost everything you've ever heard about is real. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, fairies, you name it. Almost all of them are pretty dang evil, even fairies. Even angels aren't rainbows and unicorns." I find it odd when Dean says the words 'rainbows and unicorns.' It's like a really macho biker dude saying 'pretty little pony.' I nod and tell them to continue. "We go around the country saving people from these things. We have been since we were kids. People like us are called hunters. In order to investigate the scenes before ganking the sons of bitches, we fake being FBI agents. As you know, that's illegal, but we save people's lives. We try to never save the same town more than once, as there are complications that come with that kind of fraud."
The brothers look at me, waiting for questions. "So where are we? What is this place?" I ask them.
I think they were expecting a little more than that. "This is the bunker of the now almost extinct society called the Men of Letters. They are sort of like hunters, except they do a lot more studying and less killing things. This place is warded against any demons or other supernatural things. You are completely safe in here."
"Then what happened to Kevin Tran?" I ask them. They look at me like I've unravelled some great secret, and they look more freaked out than I am. "That computer has a label on it that says 'property of Kevin Tran,'" I explain. They relax. "Since he's not here, and because of the look of sadness I see, something must have happened to him."
"Dean trusted an angel," Sam simply states. Dean, I can tell, feels guilty about it. There's a bit of self loathing in his eyes.
"It's not your fault, Dean," I say immediately. Dean rolls his eyes. "No, I'm serious. You always think you can trust angels because, well, they're angels. They're supposed to be good. You can't keep blaming yourself for what happened, because it's going to eat away at you until you have nothing left. Let it go, as a certain song once said," I say. Dean doesn't understand the reference I made, but he smiles weakly. "I can tell you're a good person, Dean. You would never intentionally bring evil to someone." I almost reach out my hand to squeeze his, but I refrain from it.
"I am convinced that you're not eleven. You're some twenty nine year old possessing a kid," Dean grumbles, and I smile at that.
"I'd have to be almost three times the age I am to be that old. Actually, it would be 2 and 7/11s which would be approximately 2 point 777777777777777777 well you get the gist. 2 point lots of sevens." Dean looks at me like I'm crazy, which I have decided that I probably am. I just give him a big smile.
"You know, Dean, some people actually like math. Can't see how, but I still had to go through calculus in order to even get a shot at law school," Sam says.
"Oh, you were going to be a lawyer?" I ask Sam, disapproval in my voice.
"What's wrong with lawyers?" Sam asks defensively.
"Both of my parents were doctors. As you can imagine, I don't have the highest opinion of lawyers," I say. Sorry for those of you who don't know the on going sort of dispute between doctors and lawyers. Basically, lawyers and doctors hate each other and have a very low opinion of each other. As far as I can tell, the doctors' hatred is stronger.
Dean is just sitting across from us, smiling. I can tell he's enjoying this, and I'm not entirely sure if I find that funny or not. "See, Sammy? You did good dropping out of law school," Dean says when he realizes that we are both looking at him.
"Yeah, believe me, you don't want to become one of those lawyer douches," I say. Dean laughs at that, which makes me smile.
"You see, Sam? This kid is awesome," Dean says, pointing at me. I can't help but feeling a little warmed. "You have any other questions?" Dean asks me.
"Several, actually. First of all, there's the whole thing with that angel who saved me. Cas was his name, right?" I ask them. Dean nods. "Can you explain that?" I ask them.
Dean rolls his head up to the ceiling, thinking. "Cas is like family to us. We've been through a lot with him, me more than Sam. I freaking went to purgatory with him. He's a little strange if you haven't realized."
I nod, and ask my next question. "What's your favorite color?" Dean and Sam are a little baffled by my question. "Well, I figure if you guys are going to take care of me, I might as well know a few things about you," I reason.
"Okay. Only if you answer every question yourself," Dean says. I shrug, and Dean answers. "Dark green, I guess," he says.
I eye Sam, silently asking him to answer. "Red. I don't know," he says.
"Okay, cool. Mines deep blue, like the TARDIS," I say. I think they're trying not to ask what I'm talking about, and act like they know exactly what I mean. But they aren't great actors, and I see right through them to the confusion. "It's from Doctor Who. Come on, you've never heard of that show? It's been around since the sixties." Their faces are blanker than my science homework the day it's due. "Okay, whatever. I'll make sure to show you guys an episode. It's my favorite TV show of all time," I say.
I spend the rest of the morning with these guys, asking questions. Eventually it turns into an epic game of 'would you rather.' As the morning goes on, I start warming up a little bit more to Sam. Dean, as I already knew, will be my friend. The morning's questions just confirm that. By lunch time, I feel a real bond with Dean, and, despite everything, I know that I'm gonna be okay.