Brothers ◇ SPN

What, to make sure I wasn't too dry?

Chapter Song - Hey, Soul Sister ~ Train

I woke up with a crick in my neck and no idea where I was. The motel, yay. Memories from yesterday began to flood back into my throbbing head. They say that for a brief second when you wake up, you don't remember anything. I miss that second already.

Goodbye fancy apartment, hello motel life. That is unless I can muster up enough strength to not be a fearful coward and actually call the number. My Dad. The thought made me kinda want to puke in my mouth.

I decided to get up. Right now all that was important was sorting myself out. I willed myself to reluctantly climb out of bed and into the grimy bathroom. I took I quick shower and replaced the layer of crusted make-up on my face with a fresh new one. It was a relief to finally be out of my work clothes into something comfortable. I tied my hair up and tidied my stuff up a bit, in attempt to make myself feel more at home. It wasn't working.

Now I was fresh out of new ways to procrastinate. "That's just great," I muttered to myself under my breath. Begrudgingly, I picked up the motel phone, giving in to the growing feeling of curiosity. No closer to thinking of something to say, I decided to just wing it, I mean what could go wrong? So many things. But I was trying not to concentrate on them right now, for the sake of my sanity.

This was it. I dialled the number, that by now I had memorised. No going back now; well I could, but hanging up would make it even more awkward. My hands shook violently as I pressed the call button. Dialling. Ringing. Once. Twice. Three times. I was beginning to think that no one would pick up, that it was the wrong number. I was almost relieved, but that's when someone answered the phone.

"Hello?" a gruff tired voice said. It was rather early. I froze. Words would not form. "Is this another dumbass prank?" the voice asked, sounding increasingly fed up.

"N-n-no," I stuttered. Great. What an excellent first impression Isabella. Go You. I found the courage to speak again. "I'm looking for uh-John, John Winchester. Is he there?" I said, my heart beating rapidly.

"John Winchester's dead. Who is this?" the voice snapped; he was growing more impatient.

Dead? Dead. Of course. Because why on earth would this have worked out for me. God, I was so stupid. Getting my hopes up. Never again.

"Look, that was blunt of me, I'm sorry. Is there anything I can help you with?" the voice said, slightly more apologetic this time. I guess they heard me choking back tears.

"I don't-I don't know," I stammered uselessly. I never cry. Not since my mother's death. But these last few days seem to be an exception.

"Okay? Why were you calling?" the voice asked, softly this time, like they were scared they might break me.

"J-John Winchester, I think he was my Dad," I said slowly, wiping a tear from my eye. The voice, for once, was silent. "Hello?" I said in a muffled I've-just-been-crying kind of voice.

"Where are you?" The voice finally said, but it was more urgent and aggressive than it had been before.

"R-Riverside, Iowa," I replied nervously. I realised I just handed my location to a person I didn't know on the phone. Stupid.

"Where a-bouts in Riverside?" The voice said, sounding kind of surprised, but I didn't think anything of it.

I was going to be cautious, I really was, but I was too curious to see where this was going. I didn't listen to trivial things like my common sense, so I told him. "Sands motel, uh-room 6," I said nervously. The man hung up. Dread began to consume me as I tried to make sense of what had just happened. If John was dead, who was that?Then it got weirder. There was a knock at my door.