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I started my fourth glass, drowning the aches of my previous hunt. It was a close call. Those demons almost had me. I wasn't supposed to go alone, which is why I wasn't eager to report. Being a hunter wasn't what I expected. The danger, I could live with. The moving, hiding, lying; fine. I always imagined dying. Whether strung up, clawed up, or at the mercy of a witch, I accepted it. But I overestimated the likelihood of my death while underestimating the death toll of fellow hunters. Friends. My brother...
I took another swig.
"If I could have y'alls attention!" The room silenced, looking to Jim, fresh off the phone. "Sad to say we lost another hunter recently. Sam Winchester." The room hummed. My own heart surprised me when it sunk. A Winchester, defeated? Impossible. "All you seasoned folks may have known his ol' man, John Winchester. Who we all know was a mighty fine hunter. One o' the best. Raised his boys right." Jim's face flushed. He wasn't accustomed to soapbox type speeches. "Anyway, let's raise a glass for a job well done, carryin' his ol' man's legacy. To Sam Winchester!"
"To Sam." I and everyone toasted unanimously.
I'd only seen the Winchesters in action once. They were the ones that inspired us to become hunters. I admired Sam. He seemed to be the reasonable one. His brother was a formidable hunter but was vile to say the least. However, vile or not, I know he was going through hell. Losing a brother was like losing half of your soul.
***
I sat waiting, straightening out the white coat I 'borrowed'. If I was correct, Dean Winchester would walk through those doors in three, two...
The doors swung open. A knowing smile shone on my face, stopping Dean in his tracks. His instincts were sharp. "Oh, I know that smile. That's the creepy 'we were expecting you' smile." His eyes were hard. His face, cynical.
"Clever boy." An angel blade slid out from his suit. I rolled my eyes. "I'm not a demon, Dean." Suddenly my face was met with holy water. I huffed. "That got in my nose."
"Who the hell're you?"
"For now, I'm the girl who's gonna show you the vic." I stood but Dean pulled a Glock on me.
"Who are you? And where's the real morgue attendant?" I sighed and began to explain. Suddenly a homemade device rolled into the room, red light flashing. My eyes widened.
"DEAN!" I grabbed him and threw both of us into the next room.
The explosion went off but I didn't hear it. My ears were ringing. Suddenly feeling groggy, I opened my eyes to an ordinary room. My bedroom. The ringing wasn't from an explosion, it was my phone. I rubbed my eyes still feeling the intensity of the dream. It was bittersweet. My brother hadn't actually died, thank heavens. But the adventurous life with the memorable Winchester brothers was, sadly, fictional again.
