Demons (Supernatural Fan-fiction)

Oooooh, you like him?

It was about three in the morning when Sam got back. Dean and I had been waiting for him, watching T.V. and talking about our lives.

With Dean, you'd be surprised how well he can tell a story. These boys had some pretty messed up lives. Dean had told me who Jess was, and I felt ten times worse about what I had done.

"Hey! Open the door!" called an unfamiliar voice from outside. I started to stand, but Dean got there before I did.

"Who is it?" called Dean.

"It's a bartender from Red Runner, the bar down the street! I've got your friend, Rodrigo here! He's really drunk!" called the man.

"Okay," replied Dean, opening the door to catch Sam, who was most definitely drunk.

"Thanks," said Dean, grabbing his brother from under the armpits and heaving him up.

"No problem, man," replied the bartender and with the tip of his hat, he had run halfway down the street.

Dean sat Sam, no, sat isn't the right word, Dean threw Sam onto the bed and walked into the bathroom, grabbing some painkillers and stuff.

I tip toed over to the bed where Sam laid. I stood over him, seeing what damage had been done. His eyes were swollen and the skin on his face was red, blotchy and chapped, as if he had been crying.

I began to feel my stomach knot up and guilt washed over me like a flood. I gently pushed some of the hair out of his eyes and put the palm of my hand on his cheek, just as I had the night before.

Dean cleared his throat from behind me, making me jump again. I turned to see Dean smirking.

"Oooooh, you like him? Don't you?" he chuckled softly. I gently punched his arm.

"Stop it," I groaned quietly. I walked over to the fridge and grabbed a water for Sam, who had passed out as soon as he came through the door. Dean set the bottle of painkillers on the nightstand next to Sam, and I set the water bottle there as well.

Seeing as my bed had been taken by drunk Sam, and Dean was already crawling into his own, I sighed, settling on the couch.

'Tomorrow morning is going to be fun,' I thought, remembering how hungover Sam would be and knowing that we had to leave soon. A long car ride in a hot car that smells like greasy food is not the best thing for someone with a hangover. I sighed once again.

'Tomorrow's gonna suck,' I thought, finally drifting off to sleep.