“Special Agent Richards, this is my partner, Watson. Do you mind if we take a look at Mrs. Norman’s body?” Sam holds up his fake FBI ID, Dean does the same behind him, and the coroner nods, hands them his clipboard without a word, and leaves the room, wiping his messy hands on an equally grungy towel.
“Really, dude, the Stones?” Dean asks.
“I’m having an off day, Dean. Chill, will you?” He deposits his fake ID back in his pocket and reaches for a pair of disposable rubber gloves.
“Oh, I’m chill, Sam. It’s you I’m worried about…how are you doing, Sammy?” Dean steps in front of his brother; eyes wide open like a radar, ready to catch any hint of anything.
“I’m fine…why do you ask?” Sam avoids Dean’s eyes, turns around, and faces the deceased instead.
“You know damn well why I asked, Sam. I know deep down inside it’s killing you because you’ve wanted to do the same thing she has: give up. Hell, Sammy, I’ve wanted to give up, too, I’ve seriously considered it, but I guess I’ve just never wanted to give up what I have right here, right now. Sam, I know you’ve wanted to end it all, and you have more of a reason to feel that way than I think I ever will, but I also know you can’t bear to see someone so young with so much potential just give it up and throw it all away to try and save herself AND others of future pain. Sam, I know you have some sort of odd bond with her, as weird as it is for me to say or recognize, but I’m not stupid. I know what that did to you last night, and believe me, I will tell her what that did to you if you won’t. You need to talk to her, because I don’t want you to have to be like this, man. I can’t stand seeing you like this. If this girl means that much to you, I can tolerate her for you, but you’ll have to meet me halfway and talk to her about last night, ok? For me?” Sam can hardly believe Dean is having this talk in the morgue right now, that’s just not his kind of thing.
“Sure, whatever.” He mumbles, handing his older brother the chart, their fingers meeting for just a second, and Sam thinks for a second he can feel Dean’s hand tighten just enough to matter. The second’s over, though, and he doesn’t know if what he felt actually happened or not, so, with a shake of his head, he clears his mind and gets ready to go on another human treasure hunt.
---Back in the hotel room, Grace checks the clock, which glares the angry red numbers 1:27. Knowing her job is a good 20 minute walk from the hotel, Grace slips into the bathroom, changes into her waitress uniform, and tediously ties her chucks before leaving the hotel room empty, beds tussled and the scent of her body spray lingering in the air. The crunch of gravel on asphalt keeps her company as cars fly by on residential streets. ‘Where are the cops when we need them? She asks herself. Autumn leaves flutter down and pave the way down the sidewalk in brilliant golds, ruby reds, and breathtaking orange hues. With too much time on her hands, Grace can’t help but remember when things were normal and everyone didn’t avoid her like she was the plague. Her first and best memory had to be when her mother sat beside young Grace, only the sweet, tender age of three, and Mrs. Norman helped apply a slight amount of makeup to her daughter’s beautiful, flawless face. “You’re so beautiful; you’re my little angel,” she told Grace, and at that very moment in time, Grace knew her mother would never hurt her, and it was Grace’s job to watch out for her. Shaking her head to clear the memory from her mind, she knew with such innocence came ignorance, and though as strange it is, it’s not her fault her mother did what she did. Sometimes things just push people to the edge, and her mother was no exception. Though it scarred her for life, Grace still loves her mother with every piece of her broken heart. Stopping in her tracks, she looks up and sees the [BIG]GERSON’s sign. She smiles to herself; her feet knew just where to take her, even when her mind was elsewhere.
“So what do you say? Victory lunch?” Dean asks Sam as they walk out of the morgue as nonchalant as they walked in.
“What victory did we have, Dean? We found out nothing. None of the deaths have anything similar to them except for some sulfur in the wounds. We’re at the same place we were before we were elbow deep in dead bodies!”
“Victory because if I’m lucky, I won’t get that shitty demon virus thing again. And I’m hungry. Do you think this place has a [BIG]GERSON’s?” Dean licks his lips, surely anticipating a hamburger of some sort.
Sam sighs, leaning over the top of the Impala. “Even if they do, you’re not still going to get free food.”
“What? Why not?” Dean, shocked, stares at his brother.
“Well, considering the fact Sam and Dean Winchester have died about five times since we won a year’s worth of free food, and it’s been about three years since then, be prepared to pay.”
“Dammit, I wanted some free food. Oh well, to [BIG]GERSON’s we go!” Dean plops down into the Impala; Sam does the same, grinning at his brother’s ridiculousness, and Dean shoots out of the parking spot, burning rubber as he zooms out onto the street.
Pulling into the only open spot in the parking lot, the brothers enter the restaurant and snag a booth by the window, one of the only tables left.
“I can’t believe this restaurant is this full for lunch!” Dean says, waiting for the waitress to bring the menus.
Meanwhile, Grace is handing change back to a customer when a co-worker, her favorite waitress, comes up to her.
“Two guys in your section, booth by the window. Pretty good lookin’, too. I’m so jealous right now.” Jen tells her, winking and handing Grace two menus.
“Have a nice day!” Grace tells the couple she just rang up and checks her breath quickly. If Jen is right and there are cute guys over there, she sure as hell doesn’t want to put them off with nasty breath. Just a few seconds later, her shoes squeak on the linoleum floors as she makes her way over to her section to introduce herself to the two guys, one of who may actually like her. Hey, a girl can dream, can’t she? Not until she gets about five feet away, though, does she realize the cosmics played a cruel trick on her. Yes, there were two guys in her section, but they were none other than the Winchester Brothers. Before she can retreat, however, Dean looks up from Sam’s face and recognizes her. Grace speedily turns around, nevertheless, hoping he didn’t see her, but there’s no chance in saving herself.
“Grace!?” Dean asks, voice raised over the mindless chatter of the other customers in order for her to hear him. “What are you doing here?!” She stops in her tracks and can hear Sam turn around, feeling his eyes drilling holes through the backside of her head.
YOU ARE READING
Can You See Me Now?
FanfictionThe Winchester brothers are on another case, as demons have been on the rise lately. They read about a girl who seems to have everyone around her die. Deciding to go check it out, their plans unravel with they run into her in an unexpected way and...
