Supernatural: The Origins of a Hunter

Supernatural the Origins of a Hunter Part 7: Carnival Lights

Emily slowly walked down the wooden stairs of Bobby's house holding her side. The stitches had been removed the day before and she was finally enjoying being able to move a little bit more. A bandage and rolls of gauze were still wrapped around her under her t-shirt to support the fresh new layers of skin forming over the nasty gash. It was early in the morning. The boys were still sound asleep on the couches. Bobby would still be asleep upstairs. It was very early, an hour before sunrise. Sam would be up soon. This was the only time she got any peace. When they all were awake they would fuss over her and not let her out of bed for fear of breaking open the wound again. As it was, she would have a nasty scar.

Emily quietly tiptoed into the kitchen and got a cup of water. She sat at the table covered in books and sipped it listening to the soft snoring coming from the brothers. Dean's hand was under his pillow holding the hilt of his gun just visible. Even at Bobby's house, which was warded against every creature imaginable, he was never fully at ease. His face was soft. All the hard lines his face carried during the day were gone. He was so peaceful. Sam's mouth hung open while he slept. His feet hanging off the couch he was so tall.

The kiss in the motel room where she had popped her stitches was the last time that she had been close to Dean. Bobby would hardly let them be alone together. Making moves to sit in between them or just watching way too closely. Not allowing for any intimate moments like an overprotective father. Emily got it. If she popped another stitch there might not be enough flesh to stitch back together. It would be bad, deadly even. She had almost bled out twice now. It took a long time for her to build back up the strength to even cross her bedroom. It took a week after she could stand to be able to descend the stairs. What she did not understand was Bobby's hostility towards Dean. It was not like Dean was the one that sliced her open. She understood why she had to avoid moving, but why couldn't she get close to Dean? He made the nightmares go away. Emily had pieced that together after the car ride back from the motel in New Haven. She slept the whole way with her head in Dean's lap and there were no nightmares. As soon as she was back in Bobby's house and sleeping in her room with Dean downstairs, the nightmares had returned.

Emily put a hand over the fresh skin under her shirt. It ached and the skin itched. Maybe Bobby and Dean would calm down now that the stitches were gone and she couldn't pop them anymore. The wound was healing. It was scabbed over nicely now and she was done taking the antibiotics for the infection that came from the wendigo's nasty claws.

Emily sighed and looked at the dark window. They hadn't let her outside in over a week. She stood quietly and took her glass of water outside. She just stood on the front porch leaning on the post. The air was cool leaving goosebumps on her smooth skin. A breeze carried a blonde curl across her face before she tucked it behind her ear. Slowly the sun started to rise. Colors of orange and yellow softly changed the deep blue canvas. Above the house stars started to fade from the light of the sun. The air smelled fresh and clean. Bobby liked living in the middle of nowhere. Emily also picked up on the smell of motor oil from Bobby's mechanic shop behind his house.

She stood there for a long while before the front door opened and Sam stepped out in shorts and sneakers. "Emily, hey" he said surprised, closing the door behind him softly so as not to wake his brother.

"Morning, Sam" Emily noticed the sleep that still hung in his eyes.

"What are you doing up?" His voice was light and friendly. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine, Sam. I just needed some fresh air."

"If Dean sees you up he's gonna freak." He laughed. His big brown eyes sparkled when he laughed with his toothy grin.

Emily rolled her eyes and looked back at the sunrise. "I know. Let him freak. I'm fine." She placed her hand back on her shirt over her ribs. The cut was itchy from healing. She was going stir crazy in that house. Even just the fresh air on the porch chased away the cabin fever.