Wayward ➳ Edward Cullen

2. Shadows

It was still dark outside when a knock woke me. Hand slipping under the pillow and curling around the gun's grip, I rolled over until I was facing the direction of the door. "Yeah?"

Dad's voice rumbled through the wood. "It's time."

Hand sliding off the gun, I sat up and stretched my arms and upper back. "Okay," I yawned.

I ran a hand down my face as his booted steps thumped across the hall. I had my blanket thrown back and my feet wriggling against the cold floor by the time I heard him murmuring to Sam. The fine hairs on my arms lifted against the morning chill.

Rubbing my biceps, I eased out of bed and across the room to the door. I found Dad passing by on the other side, sparing a brief nod to me on the way. I followed, momentarily blinded when he flicked on the hall light before taking the steps.

The lights were already on downstairs. Outside, the trunk of the Impala banged shut. Sam was wandering down the stairs as Dean pulled open the front door, breath misting before him as he stepped inside.

Shrugging into his coat, Dad said, "Sarah's in charge." As Dad's sights zeroed in on him, Sam nodded. "The school has Bobby's number." That Bobby Singer had Dad's went unsaid.

As soon as Dad settled into his coat, I crossed the few steps between us and wrapped him in the tightest hug I could manage. "Be careful."

His arms squeezed me in turn. "You be good."

As we parted, Dad shifted towards Sam. Sam met his hug halfway. When they parted, Dad swept his sights between us. "You two look after each other, you hear?"

We agreed.

Before he could say more, Dean pulled me to the side by wrapping an arm round my shoulders. "See ya, kiddo," he said as he pressed me into a sideways hug. He let go of me and lunged for Sam with his other arm, catching our bleary-eyed brother in a headlock that ended with his knuckles musing Sam's hair. "Bitch."

"Jerk!" Sam squirmed out of Dean's loosening hold and shoved him back.

Dean gave an unrepentant grin as Sam attempted to smooth his tousled hair, glaring beneath messy bangs all the while.

Dad had a small smile on his face that wore away as he strode to the door. Dean's grin widened with a, "Don't do anything I'd do," before following.

"Dean."

Pausing at the threshold, Dean twisted round to meet Sam's stare.

"Give 'em hell."

Smirking, Dean answered with a nod and a, "Hell yeah," before disappearing out into the night. The door closed firmly behind him.

I moved ahead and twisted the deadbolt. Sam handed me the salt and I fixed the spots where the line had broken.

We both converged beside the large window dominating the street-side wall. Pulling the heavy cream curtains aside, Sam and I watched as Dad and Dean got into the Impala. We waited until the car started with a roar and backed out of the drive. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried, but it was an old, familiar feeling. It was submerged to the back of my mind by the time the car disappeared down the street.

"I'm going back to sleep," Sam said, already heading for the staircase.

I followed, but instead of collapsing back in bed, I grabbed my clothes for the day. The shower took until sunrise. Styling my hair and finishing makeup took another twenty minutes. By the time I was out, the hall had lightened, but a new soft rhythm overhead warned me to pull my hoodie on before leaving.

As I thought, a brief glance out the kitchen window revealed a gray sky overhead and rain drizzling down the glass. Grabbing a leftover slice of pizza for breakfast, I settled in at the dining table.