Chapter Sixty-Five: Famine

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     I found Dean on one of the stools in the bar, he had ordered a drink and looked kind of lonely

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I found Dean on one of the stools in the bar, he had ordered a drink and looked kind of lonely. I suggested to Sam to go back to the motel, and I'll have a talk with him. I walked up to the bar, and leaned the counter and twisted my head to look at Dean - who just held a glass of whiskey in his hands. Not bothering to turn to look at me.

"What?" He spoke through gritted teeth, no longer dealing with me staring at him.

"Nothing," I replied smoothly, leaning my weight onto the counter. "Just checking to see how you're doing," his eyes flicked from my gaze, back to his drink, but even then he seemed off put by the drink. "I know, the last person you would think to check up on you," I made the joke, but it didn't seem to tickle him in any way.

"Who's Aradia?" Dean wanted to poke my brain, wanting to learn more. He twisted his head to stare into my eyes. I knew the question was due to come up eventually, but I thought I would have more time. Then again, I didn't even know much.

"Something I would like to know," I responded, as it was the truth. "I fear that I won't like the answers I find," as I spoke, I stopped leaning, and sat on the stool next to Dean, but my body was facing him. My expression also turned gloomy. I could tell him about what Gabriel had said, about me looking exactly like Aradia. Or how she fell in love with two of the most powerful archangels the world has ever known. But I sided against it, until I had all the pieces myself.

Dean nodded, and placed the glass onto the bar counter, not bothering to drink it after all. "Your Mother was called Margaret?" Dean totally went off topic, and it surprised me even asking that.

"My Mother was a good Witch, and she taught me what I know. Well, not the evil stuff. But the good stuff," the words left my mouth with ease. "She told me that I could achieve anything if I put my mind to it,"

"So, you went with the evil witch?" Dean was quick with his remark.

"After her death, yes," I wasn't going to lie to him on this. "At that time, I felt like it was my chosen path. That everything I did, everything I was before her death was leading me to that moment. It changes you seeing someone you love and care for murdered," I kept it together, but I knew Dean could see that it hurt for me to talk about the past. "If it turned out differently, I would never have met you boys, Bobby, Cas even. I wouldn't be the Abigael you see right before you," my red lips offered a smile to Dean. I reached out, placing my right hand onto his left one. "And the thought of that, frightens me," the fear on my face was true, and Dean knew it.

"Then it's good to have the Abigael we have now. Even though she's still a pain in my ass," Dean responded, which made me widen my smile at him. It was a wholesome smile.

"And what an arse it is," I remarked, chuckling to myself, as Dean smirks himself, and removes his hand from mine. "I'll see you back at the motel," I turned on the stool, and slid off, and onto my feet. I walked towards the entrance of the pub, and exited. Dean wouldn't be far behind...

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