Hey, people. New chapter-and it's pretty long. I'm honestly surprised that I got it up so fast, and I hope you like it. If you don't like the name that I give a particular character in this chapter, I'm sorry. If you are happy that I used it, great. I'm honestly really sorry if the name choice offends anyone, but I think it's an accurate character to give this person. I also wrote an imagine this week that I posted on my tumblr. If you guys want me to post it on my profile, just message me or leave a comment. Remember, I don't post a new chapter until I get at least one comment on this chapter, so make sure to take the couple seconds to write a quick little review. If it's complaining about a name I used, please don't comment. I don't want to hear complaints. Although, I may be making a few of you very happy with the name choice. You will see what I mean-hopefully. Also, I have kept with current news and I put something in this chapter that happened last week.
~kilakia
Sam makes me sit in the back seat of the impala. Dean tries to convince Sam that, since he's been such a dick to me, that I get to sit in the front. But, I don't want to give Sam another reason to dislike me, so I act like I really couldn't care less. I mean, it's really not a big deal. Although, I do feel like I deserve it, at the very least.
The drive is a bit longer than I expected-4 hours long. Dean plays this crappy music that's older than he is, and Sam complains about it. That only makes Dean turn up the music more. "Skylar, you like this, don't you?" Dean asks, expecting me to agree with him.
I hesitate before answering. I don't want to make him angry, but I really don't like the music. "Honestly, I'd prefer something closer to this generation," I admit. Dean's face turns into the most priceless expression ever. Sam starts laughing, and my life's mission is complete. I finally gave Sam a reason to like me. I can't help but smile at that.
"You see, Dean? I'm not the only one," Sam tells his brother.
"So you like Skylar now? Just a couple weeks ago you told her that you wished she had died," Dean says, a little harshly. We hurt his feelings-so he's acting out. He's like a little kid. It's funny that I'm the kid here, and so far, I've been the only one who hasn't acted like a kid.
Sam and I go silent for a while. Sam really has no idea what to say to that, and I can tell that he feels really bad about that. So, I decide to say something. "Everyone says stupid things. I forgive him," I say quietly but firmly.
We stop at a liquor store about half way through the drive and Dean gets me a bottle of frosty root beer. It's the good kind-Henry Weinhard's root beer. For those of you who have never had it-go pick up a bottle of this stuff. It's my favorite brand of root beer, and it tastes like how root beer should taste-creamy and sweet. I had this one root beer when I was visiting my relatives who lived near Solvang, California, and it tasted horrible. Reminded me a lot of pickles for some reason-it had this weird dill taste that I was not fond of at all. If you have a favorite root beer, feel free to put it in the comments of this chapter.
Anyway, we stand out and lean against the impala as we're drinking. God, I feel like such a bad ass at that moment. If my friends (some of them read the Supernatural books) could see me now, they'd be jealous. They'd think I'm so cool. Of course, I had three friends and the only reason anyone ever paid attention to me after I disappeared is because they think I'm dead and people tend to romanticize the dead. I don't like that people do that. You shouldn't ever think better of a person just because they're dead. Them being dead doesn't make them any better than they were when they were alive. I mean, the only real exception of this rule is if someone died heroically. If that was the only act of courage they ever did-if dying for something good was the only good thing they did, then I suppose you can romanticize them a bit. But other than that, you shouldn't romanticize the dead. It's not fair to their memory.
It's amazing how talking about how cool I am can lead to a one hundred word rant about how you shouldn't romanticize the dead just because they're dead. What I meant to say was that something really good happened when I was drinking that delicious root beer. Sam came up to me, a little awkwardly, and he surprised me. "I'm sorry that I've been such a dick to you. I mean, jerk! Sorry, I forget that I can't cuss around kids sometimes," he says. I laugh a little when that happens. "Anyway, I really shouldn't have been so hard on you. You're a really cool kid," he says. I smile at that, but I'm surprised it took him almost four months to finally realize that. "Do you think we can start over?" he asks.
Being the gracious person that I am, I don't tell him to piss off. I know how good Sam can be at heart, and I know that everyone makes mistakes. "Of course," I tell him.
"Thank you. Really-I don't deserve this," he says. Well, he really doesn't, but I let it slide. If I'm going to be living with him and Dean, I need to be able to get along with both of them. Besides, I've heard the way Sam is in the books, and I know how kind he really can be if you give him the chance.
A few minutes later, we are back on the road. We get to a motel in the middle of a town, and we run into a slight problem. There is not a single room with more than two beds. "I'll sleep on the floor," I offer the second I realize that the problem is present.
"Don't be ridiculous," Dean says, dismissing it immediately. "If anyone's sleeping on the floor, it's going to be me," he says, matter-of-factly.
I don't give in, and I'm not planning on giving in for a while. "I'm the smallest. I really don't mind. You guys let me come with you-the least I can do is sleep on the floor," I tell him. I'm just as stubborn as he is, if not more. People really shouldn't underestimate me. When I want something, I can get it if it means enough to me.
"That doesn't even make sense," Dean says, with the same dismissing nature he had before.
"I can sleep on the floor," Sam offers. Dean and I just look at him with a kind of laughing expression. We both think it's so ridiculous that he even comes up with that suggestion. I'm not sure why, thinking back on it. It's really not that ridiculous, now that I think on it. But at the time, it seemed so ridiculous that Dean and I just had to laugh at it a bit.
We end up deciding to figure it out when we actually have to sleep tonight, but I do have a plan. Dean seems like he 'knows' (I say it like that because he really doesn't know anything) that he'll win the argument, but my plan is fool proof.
Anyway, as soon as I'm settled with my laptop and several knives at the motel, Sam and Dean go out to investigate. I look through local news stories, and find quite a few strange things. I make a document of everything and give myself a mental note to tell them about it.
When I've been looking for about an hour, I take a break and go on Tumblr. One of the best topics is the news that Orlando Bloom punched Justin Bieber in the face, or at least tried to. As I read through the story, I can't help but laugh as the details get better and better. Also, the Jimmy Fallon video about it is just perfect.
"Justin Bieber, huh? Yeah, I bought his soul up a while ago," a slightly familiar british voice directly behind me says. He's so close, I can practically feel his voice tickling the back of my neck. Seriously, what is up with people and personal space? I turn around with a demon knife in my hand, ready to stab.
"Oh, you don't want to do that, darling," the man says. Of course, it's Crowley. Who else would it be? I still hold the knife, ready to stab him if he comes any closer. "So the Winchesters have taught you well, I see," he says, and snaps his fingers, and the knife ends back on the table.
Instead of flipping out, like I really should have been, I keep calm and do exactly what the Winchesters would have wanted me to do if they were here-sass off to this son of a witch. "What do you want?"
"I didn't kill your family," he tells me, completely sincere.
Instead of being surprised, like most people would have been, I tell him exactly what I think. I'm not surprised at all. "I know," I tell him.
He's surprised by that. "Wait, you know?" he asks. I've never heard of Crowley being so confused and surprised by something ever. "How?" he demands.
"The way you told me that you were responsible for the death of my family-it didn't sound real. It sounded like you were adding it hastily, more than anything," I say, shrugging.
Crowley's eyes widen a bit, and he has to turn around, because he's that shocked. "Well, that's not at all what I was expecting," he mutters, and tries to come up with something to say. "Now I'm not sure what I'm doing here," he says. I shrug, not really caring at all about what his problems are. I couldn't care less at this moment. "Oh, right," Crowley remembers. "I found the demon who ordered your family's death."
My eyes bulge open wide. Now I'm the surprised one. "Really? Where is it?" I ask him. I want nothing more than to be the one who kills that son of a bitch.
"It's what you and the boys are hunting-just if you were curious," Crowley says. Well, I was thinking it could easily be a demon, but I thought it would be a werewolf, more likely. "Yeah, he does tend to throw off his victims by making them think he's a werewolf. When they show up with silver, he kills them," Crowley explains, reading my exact thoughts.
"I want to kill him," I tell Crowley, my voice full of determination.
Crowley almost starts laughing, but I slap him so he stops. "Well that's rude," he tells me. I give him a look that shows that I really don't care. "It's sweet that you want to kill the demon who killed your family, but I'd let the big boys handle this one. You've never killed anything in your whole life, and this demon's dangerous," he says. All that does is give me more will power to kill the demon. This demon took my family away from me, and I'm going to make her pay.
"What's the demon's name?" I ask him, just because I'm curious more than anything else. Also, I want to address the demon by his name when I kill him.
"Nash Grier," Crowley says, completely serious. I nearly choke. "Yes, the Nash Grier. The misogynistic, sexist, homophobic, bastard is the one you get to have killed. Tumblr thanks you," Crowley says.
I have a hard time not laughing at that, because it's so accurate. "I'm honestly not surprised that he's a demon," I admit.
"Have fun knowing that he's going to die," Crowley says brightly, and disappears.
I have an oddly fun time plotting Nash Grier's death inside my head, creating more and more elaborate assassinations in my head. It's surprisingly fun. It's amazing how plotting your enemies' deaths can lead to such pleasant feelings. The time goes by very fast, and Sam and Dean are home quickly.
"So I think it's a werewolf," Dean says, setting his stuff on the table that I'm sitting at.
"It's a demon," I tell him immediately, and without any hesitation. I'm positive on this one, and I'll tell them whatever they want to know to prove that I'm right.
"No, I'm pretty sure it's a werewolf," Dean says, and he sounds pretty positive.
"It's definitely a demon. I'm positive on this one," I tell him, completely sure of myself.
"How are you so sure on that?" Dean asks, expecting a pretty good answer.
"Crowley told me. Also, it's the demon that sent out the kill order on my family. His name is Nash Grier," I tell him, and wait for the reaction.
Sam actually knows who Nash Grier is, and laughs at that. Dean, on the other hand, is pissed as hell. "Wait, Crowley was here?" he demands.
"Well, yeah. I was going to stab him, but he didn't give me any reason to," I say, shrugging.
Dean doesn't look too happy about it, but he doesn't say anything about it. "So the demon we're hunting is the one who is responsible for killing your family?" he asks instead. I nod. "Well, this is top priority, then," he decides.
Sam and Dean spend the next couple hours trying to figure out how to track this guy down. I get tired, and, since I can't sleep with them working (also my master plan is at work), I set up a bed for myself in the bathtub and fall asleep there, putting an angel blade underneath my pillow. I've been doing that for the past few months, and this is what saves my life.
Around one o'clock in the morning, I hear a lot of movement in the room next to me. It wakes me up, and surprises me. I hear a voice in the other room, and it's not Sam or Dean's. Still, it's familiar. It's like I've heard it somewhere, but I don't know where. Then, it hits me-Nash Grier. The few times I've had the misfortune to stumble across his vines, I heard his disgusting voice.
I grab the angel blade and make a quick decision. Either I let him kill my new family, or I make him pay for killing my last one. I open the bathroom door and quickly glance around the room. Nash has a hold on both Sam and Dean. They're both against the wall, as if Nash has moved them their with his powers. I can't help but feel a little impressed, until I realize that Nash is using his powers to choke both of them. If I don't do something, and quick, he's going to kill them.
Nash turns towards me, a sadistic grin on his face, and his eyes black. "After you watch your new family die, I'm going to kill you. This time, I'll make sure that you're dead," he says, raising his eyebrows.
"I don't think so," I say, and I throw that blade, aiming for his throat. I don't miss, and the knife goes straight through. Nash drops to the floor, dead, and Sam and Dean fall off the wall.
Dean and Sam both look at me, eyes wide and mouths hanging open. "You just saved our lives," Dean says, barely believing it.
"I figured it was time to return the favor," I say, shrugging.
Sam gets up and turns to his brother. "Now I see why you think she's awesome," he says. Dean smiles in my direction, and I can tell that I've proven myself to them. That is a great feeling-one of the greatest feelings ever. Also, the fact that I just killed the thing that killed my family gives me a pretty good feeling, too. Of course, we don't really have to talk about that.
We all pack up and go on the road, so we can be gone by the time someone finds Nash Grier's body. We drive for about an hour before we pull off the highway and go to some all night diner. "Seriously?" Sam and I ask Dean at the same time. It's actually a little bit scary how synchronized that is.
"What, you guys going for the creepy twins of the year award or something?" Dean asks, glaring at both of us with a weirded out expression. "And, I'm hungry. I don't know about you, but nearly dying takes the energy out of me," he says, and gets out of the car.
"Killing things takes the energy out of me, but that doesn't mean that I want to eat," I say when I get out of the car, following Sam and Dean into the diner. "It's 2 am, man!" I tell him.
"Food is food. I'm hungry," Dean says and opens the diner door. We all sit down at a booth in the corner. The waitress at the diner isn't very happy about her late night shift, which I completely understand. I wouldn't be up at 2 am if I didn't just kill Nash Grier. Still, she could try to be a little nicer. We didn't exactly have the best day, either.
Sam orders a salad, Dean orders a bacon cheeseburger, and I get an order of chili cheese fries. Dean approves my choice, and Sam doesn't really care. I know that he's secretly judging me a little. I don't care, though. I'm not going to give up the delicious taste of chili cheese fries for something as worthless as health. Come on, Sam. Also, I did just kill something, so I really should get to slack off a little.
"So are we even going to talk about how awesome you were back there?" Dean asks me, and I can tell that it has been on his mind for a while, which makes me smile on the inside. I'm truly proud of that moment, and it felt so good to kill that bastard.
"It's a good thing I keep an angel blade underneath my pillow," I say, shrugging. Sam gives me the bitch face, and I'm forced to elaborate. "I guess that it was pretty awesome how I was able to slice through his throat with just a carefully aimed throw," I say, trying to be as humble as I possibly can be. I'm trying to draw out their compliments, rather than give myself compliments, even though it's easier to do the opposite.
"Are you kidding? That was amazing," Sam says.
"He was threatening you and you were all like 'I don't think so' and then bam! he's dead," Dean says, recalling the night as if it was a happy memory for him.
"If I remember correctly, you and Sam weren't breathing when that happened," I remind him.
Dean rolls his eyes. "Thanks for reminding me-but I still saw what you did. It was flipping awesome," he tells me.
"It really was, Skylar. I think I can speak for the both of us when I say that I'm impressed," Sam agrees. Dean nods.
"I couldn't let him take away my family-not again," I murmur. That's exactly what I was feeling when I threw the knife at the guy. It wasn't just avenging my family's death-it was keeping him from taking away my new family.
"We aren't going anywhere. Even if we do die, we're coming back. That's how it always works for us," Dean assures me. I can't help but realize that he's right. The Winchesters are never dead for very long. Sure, I might have to wait a couple months, but they always come back. That's one thing I know I can count on. Still, I didn't want to even worry about getting them back.
"You guys mean a lot to me, you know? Even you, Sam, even though you've been a bit of a dick to me since I arrived," I say, completely earnest, but also joking a bit at the end.
"I'm sorry about that. I was too hard on you," Sam says, apologetic.
"I'm not angry about it. I don't blame you for it-it must have been difficult for you to adjust to me being around the whole time," I say, shrugging. I really don't blame him, not at all. I don't see the point in holding a ridiculous grudge against someone.
"If it was hard on me, it must have been a thousand times harder on you," Sam points out. I shrug. Sure, it was difficult, but Dean was there. He was really nice to me, and I owe him a lot. That's why I vowed never to give up on Dean. I still haven't ever given up on him, and I've tried to pay him back for everything that's happened.
We finish our meal, and head back out on the road. I'm not sure what's coming, but I know that I'm safe, and that I have the two best people in the world with me. That's all I need, and all I can ask for at this moment.