Maddison Winchester: Journal 6 {Supernatural}

7 You Can't Handle the Truth: Part 2

Trying to save myself from being too bored, I channel-surfed for a while but then sighed and put my head back. Nothing was really on, and I was mind-numbingly bored. I stared at the ceiling for a while, trying to remember if there was anything fun I could do close by.

"I'm Ashley Frank, bringing you Frank Talk," the news anchor said on the TV, causing me to look at it. "Are organic fruits and veggies really worth the cost?" She raised an eyebrow mysteriously.

"Oh god." I rolled my eyes and clicked the TV off. "No one cares."

Then my phone started ringing, and I quickly picked up. "Hey, you coming back?"

Dean sighed. "No, not yet. Sam called. The coroner told him all of the victim's bodies just disappeared."

I furrowed my brow. "What? How does that just happen?"

"No idea. I'm meeting him at an apartment building. One of the bodies that went missing died a week before anyone else did. Sam thinks she's patient zero," Dean said.

"All right, well, no rush. I'm thinking about going out to find something to do, and I really don't want you to catch me," I said, and then my eyes widened, and I gasped. "Why did I just tell you that?"

"Oh, yeah, I think I'm cursed. Bobby admitted that you're his favorite, and even though I already had a feeling, it kinda hurt to actually hear it." He chuckled a little. "And he just told me he's sitting at home watching Tori & Dean while drinking a glass of milk. He also likes getting a random pedicure once in a while," he said. "Have you left motels before?"

"No." I practically choked out, and I struggled extremely hard, trying to fight the truth. "Yes. Multiple times. Oh my god, I hate this!" I shouted. "I'm getting off before I tell you about how I used to imagine my punching bag was your face when you really pissed me off."

"Oh, wow, thanks," Dean said, almost trying not to laugh.

"I hate this because I don't want you to know that I had a go-bag packed up to leave Lisa's house in the middle of the night whenever I finally got the nerve to do it," I said and gulped.

"Really?" Dean asked, sounding hurt.

"Yes, I couldn't deal with that life anymore, but you were the reason I stayed. I would've skipped a month into it if you were anyone else." I sighed. "I'm sorry, Dean. Now, can you please hang up because, for some reason, I can't bring myself to do it, and I'm scared of what else will come out of my mouth."

"Yeah, I'm not sure I want to hear anymore anyway." He sighed sadly and hung up.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

About an hour later, Sam and Dean came back to the motel, and I stood up and walked over to Dean.

"Did you leave?" he asked me accusingly.

"No." I sighed. "Look, Dean, I'm really sorry."

He nodded. "I know. How about you two, uh, sit down. We gotta talk."

My heart skipped a beat, nervous about what this was, and then I sat on Dean's bed.

Sam furrowed his brow and sat down at the table. "Yeah. What's up?"

Dean sat on Sam's bed and sighed, looking at the floor. "There's a few things I want to ask you, and, uh, you're gonna tell me the truth," he said and looked up directly at Sam.

Sam nodded, looking confused. "Uh, yeah, Dean. Of course. What are you talking about?" Then realization crossed his face. "Whoa. Are you saying you're—"