Maybe It's Not So Bad - Plus Sized Reader

Nineteen

I had just finished tucking into the last bit of my near-stale roll and started to make my way back to the hospital room when my phone chimed, a Winchester call was incoming and I internally prayed that it was good news.

Stepping to one side, I nodded at the nurse who passed me and took the pause to fish my phone from my pocket, my eyes flicking to the room I had been heading towards as I swiped and lifted the device to my ear.

"Please tell me it's something good," I said by ways of greeting.

"It's about fifty-fifty," Sam replied, his voice even and not giving any hint to how he felt about it.

"How so?"

"We found head-witches coven hovel but we also found another woman, already dead, we don't know if she's an outsider or one of them but..." he let out a long sigh and I could picture him looking around distractedly, "it's not good."

"Any estimation on time of death?"

"Nothing direct with the all the magic being shot about, but we're pretty confident in thinking it was around when Abbi escaped."

"Of course," I sighed, running a hand through my hair and taking another glance into the room. "So ideally we need her to wake up to answer some questions."

"Yeah, especially given the state of this girl, she's pretty much a dried husk so the sooner we can talk to her the better but here we are."

"Pretty much, this whole case has been a bitch from start to finish."

"It has, how is she doing anyway?"

"They say pretty well, but they seem to say a lot that I don't pay attention to."

A small huffed laugh made the phoneline crackle, as though it were about to cut off due to lack of signal at any second.

"They still haven't talked you into being their number one fan I take it?"

"That may take a while," I grumbled. "Why'd you get off so easy on the curses? It's not even a curse, it's just a haircut that threw you off."

I could imagine the face he pulled as he probably shrugged, after knowing them for so long you grew accustomed to their quirks.

"Maybe I'm their favourite."

"Please, Sam, you're no one's favourite."

We both laughed, me picturing him rolling his eyes before letting out a long sigh.

"We best get back to it, hopefully we'll bust her soon."

"Fingers crossed, don't get cursed again or you might end up going bald this time."

"Don't tempt them."

"Like I need to apparently."

He let out a small hum of agreement, which was followed by some shuffling on his end, in the background I could hear Dean calling for him.

"Gotta go."

"Mhmm, stay safe."

"You too."

I pulled my phone away just in time to catch the 'hanging up' display as Sam cut the call off from his end, leaving me to dealing with the girls and the bad news.

Slipping the phone into my pocket, I continued into the room, closing the door just enough to keep it ajar before making my way over to one of the chairs.

Lacing my fingers together in my lap, I looked towards the two sat on the floor and could feel the way my mouth downturned at the thought of what was to come next.

Speaking to surviving victims or the families of dead ones was never easy, the sheer pain and sorrow would crack even the hardest of law enforcement and being a hunter was too akin to that profession, as well as a mixture of a few others though very cackhandedly done.

Seeing death day in and out didn't make breaking the news any easier, that pit in your stomach still opened up every time the prospect reared its ugly head, at least it still did for me despite years of practice by this point.

Sam would have been the better one for this.

Out of the three, he was the one with the most empathy and could really pull off the sincerity needed for this task.

To put it in another profession's lingo: He had the ideal bedside manner.

I wasn't particularly cut out for this, but it also wasn't like I could summon Sam here to do it for me before disappearing again to do the more vital part of the case.

It was then, as reality settled in around us in a thick silence that gave me time to take them in without adrenaline blinding me, that I noticed just how young these women really were.

Us three hunters were in our thirties and these girls would be in their early twenties and I still remember being immature for that age, hunting and hardened but still very immature with a lot to learn of the world.

At the time I thought I had myself sorted, was so grown up and settled into myself but looking back, when I had a quiet moment to reflect, it always struck me that I had no clue at twenty-two, I still felt like a teenager labelled an adult by society.

Looking at them, young, fresh-faced and full of witch-based anxiety was grounding.

What had started off with simple distraction curses had quickly turned deadly for the casters and fast.