Stand in the Rain (Dean Winchester story)

Chapter 2

I wake up in a dim room on my back. My eyes flutter open slowly, my hearing aid gives feedback from being pushed into the pillow when I turn my head to see Dean asleep in the chair a few feet away from the bed I've been in. There is a quilt the covers me up to my shoulders. I push it off and sit up, grasping my necklace for comfort. The room I'm in has brick walls, one of which has a built-in bookshelf. A wooden desk waits for someone to to sit next to it across the door, there is a dresser with a lamp and a few books sitting on it. Other than that, the room is empty. Sam enters the room reading a book in one hand and a mug of what I assume is coffee in the other.

"Liz, you're awake. How do you feel?" Sam comes closer. His voice causes Dean to almost jump out of his napping chair.

"I'm fine, I think. Where are we?" I continue looking around the room from my spot on the foot of the bed.

"Bunker." Dean summarizes.

"I don't know what you mean, like a World War two kind of bunker, because if that's the cause, you've got yourselves quite a fix. From the one room I've seen it's a really nice bunker." I smirk.

"It's uh, it's kind of like that World War thing you're talking about, but I think the best way to describe it is a hide out. Safest place on Earth, no joke." He clarifies.

"Well then, I guess you're happy you live here." I try to be sarcastic. The problem is I suck at sarcasm. I stand up and step towards the door. Almost immediately, my knees give out again and I start to fall to the floor. Dean rushes forward and grabs me at my waist, he pulls me closer to his chest and my palms rest on his arms once I'm steady.

"You might wanna take it easy. I don't think you were use to running like that you probably sprained something." His candy green eyes gaze into my gray-blue ones. I swallow hard, 'this guy is looking at me while his hands are on my waist!' I panic in my head.

"Right, um, I'll just go sit on the bed then." I try to turn around but a zing shoots up my left knee up to my hip. I definitely hurt myself running like that. With Dean's arm as my crutch, I hobble back to the bed. Once I'm comfortable, he sits back down in his chair. "What happened? I mean I know my parents weren't my parents and I asked you from help, but then you killed them when their eyes went black, and my parents eyes aren't black, they both have blue eyes. So that makes no sense whatsoever-"

"Calm down a minute. Just let us explain a little bit." Sam interrupts me. 'Thank God I got cut off, I don't know what that rant would've gone.'

"Okay." I say aloud as my hand signs the letters with me.

"Ghost, demons, angels, they're all real. You're parents were possessed by demons yesterday. Dean and I, we hunt them." Sam tells me with caution.

"Yesterday? How long was I out?" I ask.

"About ten hours, we were getting a little worried after the eight hour mark." Dean answers for me.

"So I've been out for ten hours, demons and ghosts, and angels and crap are real. What's next, Twilight fans start fan-girling over vampires that sparkle and Narnia fans find out animal talk?" I try to brush off that their insane. But demons would be a reasonable explanation as to why my parents where so creepy and violent.

"Uh, not vampires don't sparkle, we kill them, but they don't sparkle. And animals don't talk outside of books and cartoons." Dean tries not to laugh.

"And you just hunt them?" I go back.

"Yes."

"You go after things that want to kill you?"

"Pretty much." Dean nods.

"Did you happen to smoke some pot take a bunch of drugs and not share 'em by chance?" I ask half jokingly.

"I know it sounds crazy but it's the truth." Sam cuts in. 

"You're damn right it sounds crazy, I mean I can believe the group of creep crawlers exist but the fact that you go after them is insane. How are you not dead yet?" I scoff.

"Well, Sam's died and got trapped in Hell, and I've died and gone to Hell, and purgatory. We've both been to Heaven and uh, oh Sam says there was a Tuesday when I died like a hundred times!" Dean answers excitedly.

"And you say you're not crazy." I mumble. 

"No, we're a little crazy, you need to be in order to do this job. We're just not nut-house crazy." Sam explains. I nod and simply stay seated on the foot of the bed. There's a few minutes of silence between the three of us after a huff escapes Dean's mouth.

"You should eat something." He says.

"No, I'm fine, just in a little pain from my knee. Seems to me like it wants to linger." I brush off as best I can.

"Nope, you gotta eat something, Lizzy. Let's find you some food. Kitchen's pretty well stock as of a few days ago." Dean stands up again and reaches a hand out to me. "Plus, how you gonna heal if you don't move around every now and then?"

"I guess something small is alright." I try to be polite.

"Attagirl." He grins. Sam follows us out of the room and then excuses himself to go and do some research, leaving just Dean and I to walk, or in my case, wobble to the kitchen.