The Prophet

Chapter 49: The Mark

A few days passed peacefully. We practiced shooting, caught up on our TV shows, did some underage drinking because hunters only live twelve hundred times.

Marcey practiced flying.

I tried to read the tablet. I couldn't seem to find anything about the mark of Cain.

Sam had decided not to tell Dean about it, though that never turns out well.

I was working on the tablet and it was pretty late.

"SAM!" Dean yelled. I grabbed my water gun filled with holy water and went to see what was wrong. When I got there Sam was already standing in the doorway, armed, and staring at Dean. I peeked in.

"No. No! No! No. No!" Dean tossed and turned in the bed. Sam closed the door back quietly.

"Shouldn't we wake him up or something?" I asked.

"No" Sam shook his head "he doesn't want us to know how bad it is. Plus he sleeps with a knife under his pillow. He might stab you." Sam half smiled.

I held my water gun in the air. "I don't even have to get in stabbing distance."

"Just go back to sleep." Sam laughed.

"Yeah okay," I lied "I'm tired anyway.

I really need to get that tablet translated.

:::Time skip brought to you by muffins because muffins are good:::

I had slept for maybe 3 hours. I had had a nightmare. I had thought I was done with those but apparently tablets do not excuse me from freaky dreams about the future. They started up again after I got away from the demon. Nothing in the dream had given me a location though so I decided not to say anything.

I went to the kitchen and got some coffee and a granola bar. I hated coffee but it was better then more nightmares.

I wandered into the library where Sam was on the phone.

"Yeah but this is important," Sam told the phone. Dean walked in also drinking coffee. "Yeah. Yeah, okay, just, um . . . Just be there. Yeah. Gotta go." Sam hung up on the oh so important phone call. Secrets! "Hey how did you sleep?" Sam asked.

"Like a drunk baby." Dean lied.

"Great!" I also lied.

"What do we got?" Dean asked.

"Uh, nothing." Sam answered.

"Really?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, I mean, uh, no weird deaths, no demon signs. There's a kitsune working some truck stops outside of Boise, but Rudy's on it so. . . ." Sam trailed off.

"All right. So, uh, snow day. I say we get drunk and shoot crap." Dean said.

"Yeah except we do that every day," Sam said "Actually, I was thinking about seeing a movie."

"Yeah that could be cool" Dean agreed.

"It's a French movie."

What the heck?

"You mean like nudie French?"

Ewwww Dean!

"Even better," Sam smiled "It's about a mime that's secretly a cockroach!"

WHAT IS GOING ON?!?!

"I-I don't get it. . . ."

Something's up.

"Dude the New York Times said-"

"Who cares?" Dean cut him off.

"All right, well . . . It's playing in Wichita, so I might not be back till morning." Sam said.