One moment we were sitting in Dean's room. Dean woke up. Sam and Dean discussed hunting with me. John came in. He looked at me with barely hiding surprise in his features but said nothing, then asked Sam and I to go get him some coffee. We quickly complied and left Dean with John.
Then, the next moment, scalding coffee was poured on me and Sam was screaming for help. It felt like it was in slow-motion but at the same time, it was too fast. I looked over and saw Sam above John's unconscious form. Doctors and nurses rushed past me, not even paying attention to how one of them shoved me into a wall and pulled Sam off of John before trying to help him.
Sam looked over shocked, but sprinted past me and helped the limping Dean to the doorway, watching their father die. And, I felt like shit because if I was still a ghost… I could possibly help. But, I'm not, so I just watched as the brother's father was torn from their lives. And I watched as we checked out of the hospital and the old guy, named Bobby, came and picked us up, along with the body of John Winchester.
"Hey boys. And random girl." He says, looking at me questionably. The boys nod and close the trunk that John was just placed in. I smile and sit next to Sam in the cramped backseat.
"That's uh- Samantha. She'll be hunting with us now." Dean says, only leaving the poor guy even more confused. Nonetheless, he sighs and drives away towards his house probably.
"We burn the body. It wouldn't be honorable if you lived a life killing monsters and ghosts then come back as one." Dean explains as the boys started setting up a log thing, John in the middle.
"So you have to burn… like the bones to get rid of a ghost?" I ask and Sam nods, breathing heavier than usual. I nod and add that information to my mess of a brain.
"Don't forget to salt it before. Purifies it." Bobby adds in and I nod, not questioning why we use condiments to purify dead bodies. They inform me of much more information on how to get rid of certain monsters, and how to harm them. Like, iron and salt hurts ghosts. Holy water to harm demons, exorcisms to get rid of them temporarily. Fire for Wendigo's. Shape shifters, kill them with silver, you can tell if they're a shifter by a flare on a camera or light. They said once their done…burning John, we're going to learn exorcisms, then self-defense. After another hour of handing logs to the boys as they set it up, its dark and the fire just started. Bobby walked away after saying a quick, simple, goodbye. I follow after him, seeing the boy's not even notice I'm there.
We both enter the front doorway and he goes into the kitchen, so I awkwardly follow after him again, sitting in the wooden chair at the table. He huffs and gets a beer out of the fridge, all while I awkwardly stare down at my boot-covered feet. It's silent for a few moments until Bobby sits across from me and surprisingly speaks to me.
"So. What made you decide to hunt?" He asks and I shrug, looking at the dirty table now.
"I was in a coma, a spirit for a week because of that. And a few days ago, I saw a man and his two sons getting rushed in through a helicopter and I was like, 'Dear God, they have nice hair. I have to makes sure they don't die,' and I followed them and waited in John's room until Dean, as a spirit, walked in. We talked about random crap, including that I have a talent thing like Sam. And he told me about hunting. I thought, 'Holy shit. This is my calling.' And I told Dean something along the lines of that and he said, 'All right. We'll be a happy little hunting family.' So yeah…" I say and almost laugh as Bobby chokes on his sip of beer in surprise.
"You thought they had nice hair, so you followed them to make sure they didn't die?" He asks, in a slight disbelieving tone. I chuckle and nod.
"Have you seen Sam's hair? It's like someone mixed gold, and puppies, and heaven's rainbows in it. It's marvelous!" I say and he shakes his head, probably coming to a conclusion that I'm completely pyscho.
"You are a weird one. My spare room is full of junk, I'll clean it out tomorrow. But we have a couch." He says and I grin.
"Awesome." I say completely serious. Sleeping on a couch is luxury for me. Bobby sends me a weird look and gets up, grabbing a blanket from the closet before walking into a different room. I get up from the table after a couple minutes of complete silence, which completely creeps me out, so I walk quickly into a room that appears to be a study, but it has a couch and the blue blanket Bobby had, so this is where I'm sleeping probably.
"Goodnight, Bobby." I say to his passing figure and he pauses, looking at me before replicating the gesture, and walking upstairs, only keeping one light on in the house for the boys. I lay on the small, couch and wrap myself up before trying to fall asleep.
By the time the boys walk in, I've been awake for thirty minutes. They were outside for over five more hours, and I slept for four of those hours. I'm staring at the ceiling and trying not to talk to myself from the silence of the house, until the booming footsteps of the brothers come up the stairs. The door opens and low voices reverberate around the house.
"We're fine, Sam. We'll find a case tomorrow and get back to normal. People die. It happens." Dean says. I can't tell if he's lying or not because I can't see him. I can usually read people pretty well but I can't always tell from their voices. People tend to be good liars nowadays.
"I know, Dean. Alright, so when I cleared out the car, I found Dad's cellphone and listen to this." Sam says and it's silent for a few minutes before the sound of someone talking through a phone fills the room.
"John, it's Ellen. Again. Look, don't be stubborn, you know I can help you. Call me." A tough woman's voice says.
"That message is four months old." Sam says, punctuating the four.
"Dad saved that chick's message for four months?" Dean asks and Sam replies with 'yes.' It's quiet for a few minutes until Dean walks in the living room, not noticing I'm awake.
"Alright. Tomorrow we'll ask Bobby for a working car and we'll check it out." He says and I feel him sit on the couch, past my feet. I shift slightly and bring my feet up more, so I only take up one cushion. I feel Dean lean over and look at me.
"You're still awake?" He asks and I shrug, sitting up. Sam looks over and frowns slightly before sitting in the arm chair next to us.
"I slept." I say and they look at me, wary.
"How long?" Sam asks and I shrug again, looking down at the rug.
"Like four hours." I say and he shrugs, leaning back. Must be good enough, if he's not going to yell at me.
"So, was there anything about an Ellen in dad's journal?" Dean asks and Sam shakes his head, messing with the old book he had in the hospital room earlier.
"No, but I got a trace on her phone and got the address." He says and Dean smiles, looking proud of his little brother. Sam stares at me awhile before finally speaking, breaking the awkward silence that enveloped us.
"You said you took a bottle of pills. Why?" He asks and I start to wish that he just stayed quiet. But, they're both staring at me and I don't want to know what will happen if I ignore them so I tell them part of the reason.
"Like I told Dean, I was convinced I was crazy. I tried telling my family but they just told me to get over it. I couldn't even stay in the same room as them since they would always manage to find a way to make me feel like a waste of breath." I say and find my foot tapping from anxiety. It's silent again until Dean slaps the couch and stands up.
"C'mon. I'm not sleeping anytime soon and it looks like you aren't either, so we need to train with self-defense." He says and I nod, excited for some action, jumping up. I hear Sam get up behind me and Dean starts walking out the door, towards the gravel driveway. I quickly put my gray vans on and run out the door, closing it behind me. Sam's off to the side as Dean is stretching slightly, looking at me. I take a deep breath before stretching my arms behind my back. Dean's smiling slightly and I can tell he's been waiting for some action too.
"We're going to start with how to get out of holds then move to self-defense." Dean says and I nod. He walks closer to me then spins me around. I make sure to keep breath even and keep my panic of having my back turned to them under control.
"We'll start with a sleeper hold." He says and I quietly curse, remembering when someone tried to mug me in the city. I was put in a sleeping hold, and almost passed out from the lack of oxygen before my brother came out of the gas-station bathroom and saw what was going on. I'm not too clear on if he's still alive or not. I feel his arm come around my throat from behind me, using his biceps and inner forearm against either side of my neck, cutting the blood flow off slightly. His hand that's slightly choking me hooks into the elbow of his other arm, which is behind my neck, locking it in. Both my oxygen and blood flow cuts off but I don't focus on that, I keep my focus on the voice in the back of my head. The one voice that I've missed for a while. My brother. I hear his voice from a memory leading me through the steps to get out of this hold, after the gas-station incident, he quickly made sure to teach me enough self-defense so that I could fight off someone for a few minutes until someone came and helped me. So I listen to the memory and do the steps as I remember them.
I quickly turn my head into the elbow that he's choking me with and raise my shoulder while, bearing my chin down, to relieve some of the pressure. I start to hold his fingers of his front hand, while quickly reaching backwards and starting to peel the fingers off the arm behind my neck. I quickly thank my brother in my head as I start to feel Dean's grip staring to adjust on my neck. That's when I quickly spin around, out of his arms and forming a tight fist, keeping my wrist level with my arm before hitting him in the stomach. He doubles over slightly and I take the chance to bring his face down into my knee. He drops to the ground and I kick him I the gut, not hearing the yells to stop. Not even hearing my brother in my head anymore. I jump as I'm shoved into the side of a broken van. Sam has his gun out pointing at me as Dean spits out blood from his mouth, grimacing.
"What the hell was that?!" Sam screams in my face and I shake my head as my vision starts to get blurry. And red. It comes back into focus again and I stare at Sam's furious face.
"I-I don't know." I whisper and I cringe at the weakness in my voice. Sam startles slightly as Dean grabs his shoulder, pulling him back.
"Okay. That was good, but I didn't tell you to try and kill me." Dean says, holding back a pained smirk. I gulp and look at one face to another. Wondering why the hell I listened to it.
"No. But the voice did." I whisper.