Words by You

New Ground is Hard to Tread On

Lunch was peaceful. It wasn't hard to keep a conversation going between our group of four, mostly because Sunnie and I couldn't reign in our morbid curiosity.

We probed them about the ins and outs of their jobs (which involved much more cons and credit card fraud than I expected). Their lives were so out of the box from normal that the conversation volleyed between supernatural factoids and random topics that just straddled the line of mundane. Or at least, mundane to them. We jumped from favorite cities to the most convenient ones to hide monster bodies. Stupidest injuries to the surprisingly extensive network of doctors specializing in hunter clientele (our city did not have anyone in that club). Favorite movies to the story of a shifter who set-designed his hunting grounds to mimic monster films (which made me swear to never visit an Oktober fest ever ). The hours just flew by.

All too soon the sun was setting, so pizza was ordered and drinks were exchanged for beers and whiskey glasses. The combination of liquid medicine and company made everything feel lighter. The terrifying memories and pains from monsters lurking in the corner of my consciousness became faded and distant. Overshadowed by strange stories and full belly laughter. The sight of Dean with his head thrown back and his eyes crinkled at the corners shone too bright to let any darkness in my head linger. I couldn't help staring, hoping to keep the shadows away a couple moments longer.

At some point, the liquid medicine turned to courage. We ended up skipping all pretenses and started spitfiring questions. Well, Sunnie spitfired.

"Werewolves."

Sam bobbed his head. "Yep."

"Witches."

"Yeah."

"Ghost? Wait no– goblins?" She corrected herself, staring just a bit intensely.

He chuckled. "Yes to both."

"Come on, you're interrogating him," I chimed in, my face stuck in a grimace.

She shook her head. "I have to ask while I can still stomach the answers."

"For whatever it's worth, you both look like you're handling this well," he offered goodnaturedly. Sunnie and I exchanged a glance.

"Work trauma made us good at compartmentalizing," she answered.

"That actually doesn't sound unfamiliar," he laughed. Dean just grinned, reaching for the beer at his feet. He'd dragged the ottoman over, parking himself in front of my end of the couch. Sunnie was stretched out on the other side, while Sam had brought a chair from the kitchen.

"Okay, what about... flying monkeys?" She continued.

"No way," I protested, but Sam was considering it.

"Yeah."

"Banshees."

"Yep."

"Dragons!" She exclaimed.

"Surprisingly, yes," Dean spoke.

"How about a monster that's actually a myth?" I proposed. The brothers went silent long enough that it was almost depressing.

Dean eventually came up with an answer. "Unicorns."

My face scrunched. "The one thing that isn't supposed to be life-threatening doesn't exist?"

Sam shrugged. "We're not sure that it doesn't. No one's found one yet."

"Nah, it's definitely made up," Dean answered. "Sorry to disappoint."

"You didn't. I was a dolphins and mermaids kinda kid."

That lopsided grin curved over his lips. "I can see that," he said. Like reflex, I could feel my insides curl in and my chest get all warm and fuzzy. It took effort to keep it from showing. But that didn't stop Sunnie's sixth sense. She called me out on it when the guys took the empty pizza boxes to the kitchen.