The Short Second Life of Mil Winchester - Book 2

Demons (Original)

A/N: Hey Millers! Spn season premier tomorrow, who's excited?! Enjoy the new chapter, sorry it's short, but hey - it's an original! Remember to keep voting for Short Second Life and Life and Lies in the Wattys2k16 - not long now! It would mean so much to me, seriously. Y'all are amazing!

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DEMONS

Stunned, and maybe a little scared of the results, I spun the laptop around to show the boys.

"A pack?" Sam asked in shock, staring, as I had, at the information I'd just dug up. "Are you certain?"

I shrugged. It seemed pretty implausible, sure, but it was the only explanation that fit the details. "The frequency of the attacks alone is too high for a one man job. It's gotta be."

"You know the lore as well as I, Mil," Sam reasoned. "Djinns don't hunt in packs."

Dean, pacing back and forth behind me, shook his head and muttered: "It's been a crazy year." I could practically feel the nervous energy radiating off him.

"Yeah, no kidding," I agreed with a scoff. Dragons, and now this? There were a million possibilities of what could be next, and I didn't want to entertain any of them.

"But it goes against the rules," Sam argued.

"What rules?" I asked back, grimly meeting Dean's eye. "Like - like werewolves not on a full moon? Are there even rules anymore?"

"Brilliant," Sam grumbled. "No rules. Anything else you guys are hiding out from me?"

Ever since Castiel just had to go and spill the beans to Sam about everything that had happened over the past year - exactly what Dean and I had been doing our absolute best to stop from happening - Sam had been pushing us like that. To say it annoyed me was an understatement - part of me was just waiting for his brain to explode, ticking time bomb style.

"No," I responded stiffly.

"So, pack of djinns," Dean said, changing the subject back. He grabbed one of the knives from the table and flipped it between his fingers. I watched him carefully. "We know where they are, so when do we go?"

"Hold your horses, Dean," I advised. "Let's not go rushing in head-first."

"Oh, come on," Dean complained. "I wanna kill something."

"Not yourself, ideally," I snapped. "It's a suicide mission, Dean." I saw both boys look at me, and I shrugged. It was. I hated djinns ever since my own near-death altercation with one several years ago. "They're tough sons of bitches on their own, let alone in a pack."

"Why are you such a downer, Mil?" Dean asked.

"I'm just tired," I said. "Sorry. Let's just go." If we were gonna die, may as well just get it over with.

Sam stood, closing his laptop screen and pushing the sleeves of his shirt further up his forearms. He shoved his laptop into its bag, wordlessly beginning to gather up all our gear, in case we didn't make it back here.

I made a face, trying to get back into the hunting mindset. I grabbed my jacket from my bed, picked up a knife from the table, and my duffle bag from the floor.

Sam and Dean headed out the door together, already engaging in a tense conversation. I flipped the lights out, casting one last glance at the peaceful room, before shutting the door and heading to join my brothers in the Impala.