Something Wicked This Way Comes (Supernatural Fanfiction)

Chapter 4

Dean walked out the door, leaving Sam with me. Sam rolled his eyes at the closed door and turned to me. "He's going to take a few tests, to make sure that they didn't turn you." Sam explained quietly, with an expression that said that he thought the need to was useless. Turn me? Into what?

Before I could say anything, Dean walked in with a bottle of water and a knife handle in his pocket. He pressed his shirt down, hiding the knife, like it was never there. "Drink." He ordered as he handed me the bottle. I unscrewed the cap and took a sip. It didn't taste like regular water at all, like water that has been forgotten for years and then put into a bottle for everyone to drink. I set it down and put the cap back on. Dean pulled the knife from his pocket and I backed away, onto a wall, my eyes wide and fearful. No way is he coming near me with that. "I just need to cut you a little. Just to make sure that you're not a shape shifter." He slowly pulled my arm away from my body and cut the inside of my elbow. It stung, but Sam threw me a towel from the bathroom. "She's fine." Dean said, turning back to Sam.

"Is your whole family hunters?" I asked them, putting the towel on the cut to stop the bleeding. Dean's eyes turned hard, emotionless as he turned to face me. The sight alone scared me. One sentence and the Dean I just knew was gone, replaced with an emotionless one, dead one.

"No. It doesn't matter anyway, they're all dead." He muttered. I broke his glare, since it was like he was looking into my soul. They both scare me, Sam and Dean. Sam tried to be caring, but the look behind his eyes said differently, as did when he killed the man to save me. Dean just gives me these blank, murderous looks like I'm his next meal.

Sam's phone rang, breaking the silence. He dug into his pocket and answered. "Anything new? Thanks, Agent Conners... yeah, you too," Sam hung up and shoved his phone into his back pocket. "A body down at the docks." Sam told Dean. They exchange glances, talking to each other by facial expressions. Something only siblings can do. Something Alex and Anna did regularly, but I did catch on eventually. I became pretty good at reading expressions, and I could tell that Sam and Dean were having a silent argument.

"Do you want to come with us, or stay here with one of us?" Dean asked me. I considered my options. Staying in a cold, boring hotel room with a brother while the other is out playing FBI, and clearly he wants to be there and not babysitting me or going with the brothers to the crime scene and wander off until they're done.  

"Come with you, I guess." I follow Dean as he follows Sam. We walk out into the parking lot, where I see a black 1967 Chevy Impala, license plate 'KAZ 2Y5'. It was in mint condition - or extremely close - and was shiny clean.

"Damn. Nice car. A, what, 1967 Chevy Impala?" I ask him. He stared, slightly open mouthed at me before he snapped out of it. He didn't know that my father was obsessed with cars, and his favorite was between a '67 Impala and a '69 Convertible. That was before...

"Yeah. How did you know?" He asked, shaking his head in astonishment. I just shrugged with a small smile. He rolled his eyes, a boyish smile coming to the surface. "Get in." Dean sat in the drivers seat and Sam in the passengers. I slid into the back, the soft leather seat more comfortable then any hotel bed. My wrists still have a thin red line wrapped around them, from the ropes along with the thin, small scars from when... I felt the memories flow to my head, leaving no details of that night.

----------------Flashback----------------

"No!" I screamed as my mom hit the cement. She laid in a pool of her own blood, light from the moon hitting it made it shine. It was too dark to see the light leave her eyes and her breath half used. All because of my father-

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"Mia?" Sam must have been talking to me. He was turned around in his seat, glancing at me with concern. Dean was still driving, yet looked in the mirror to see what was happening.

I snapped out of my memories, a small tear running down my cheek. I wiped it away as another taking its place. "Yeah?"

Dean looked in the rear view mirror again, giving me another grim look. "Apparently not." He answered Sam for me. I gave them a confused glance, staring at them from the rear view mirror.

"I was asking if you were okay." Sam repeated quietly to me, with a look that clearly said its okay. I would've laughed, if I thought that I could without sounding hysterical. Its not okay, nothing is okay. Not after that.

"Yeah. I'm fine, thanks." But am I? Really? I shook off that feeling and looked out the window, wiping away the tears. Familiar houses and stores went past us as we went to the docks. I look down at what I'm wearing. A black t shirt, jeans and my black jacket still; the same thing that I was wearing when my... they died.