Chapter 16 : Normal Life

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     Days had passed, and I didn't do much other than catch up on sleep. Every once in a while, Sam or Dean would knock on my door to make sure I was still there, but after I threatened to shoot them for the tenth time, they had resorted to phone calls from two doors down.

     We couldn't do anything until the next service. Roy and Sue Ann were set for one of their biggest to date, and even though he refused to see me again, everything was still going according to plan.

     Sam still hadn't told Dean about his father being the one who sent us this way, but he was making damn sure that there were no other casualties. The two of them had stalked and talked to nearly everyone that had been healed in the last few months and to the families of those who had lost someone.

     So far, they had managed to talk to three of which remembered seeing the pale man that Dean had seen standing by the reverend. There was no doubt it was a reaper, but the only theory we had was standing on the edge of black magic, and the boys were not as well versed in that area as I was.

      It was already Saturday, and I was lying on my bed as I had done most of the week. Clad in nothing more than my t-shirt and a screwdriver playing peek-a-boo with my head. The cold leather of my journal against my legs sent shivers up my spine as I read the statements over and over again. The one sticking out the most is that of Layla Rourke. The twenty-eight-year-old elementary teacher had been healed from an inoperable brain tumor.

     Layla was the only one I had gone to see, and despite her specific recollection of her miracle, it wasn't the wrinkly old man touching her head that intrigued me. It was her story before Le Grange. Her symptoms. The headaches, the mood swings, the intense sexual frustrations that riddled that devoted Christian woman. She had lost her husband, and her mother had been on the brink of breaking, not able to put up with the nightmares that hid behind the sweet facade of a woman.

      It was all too familiar, but instead of dwelling and making myself sick over the thought of our similarities, I tossed my journal into my bed and decided to feed this sudden need for human interaction.

     I shot Sam and Dean a quick text before heading out. The closest bar was only a block down the road, and the fresh air was doing my head wonders. The pounding had subsided by the time I pulled open the door, and the yearning in my stomach took over as the stench of cheap beer and stale cigarette smoke clouded around me.

      "Whiskey," I said to the blond bartender with a smile.

      She went to work quickly as I settled into my stool, not taking my eyes away from the college students racking the balls at the table in the corner. I watched for a while until I settled on the tall, brooding looker. His shaggy hair fell at his shoulders, but it was his brazen smile that led me to him. I set my drink and a fifty-dollar bill down on the table and smiled as I picked through the beaten pool sticks on the wall.

     "Sorry, sweetheart, but this is a closed game."

     "Are you sure about that?" I raised a brow at him and lifted my drink to my lips as I set another fifty down.

     He ran his hands over the soft stubble on his chin and his thin lips, curled into a smile as his friends backed away. He pulled his thick wallet from the pocket of his jeans and set two matching bills down on the table.

     "You break," he whispered as he stepped closer. His hand went to the small of my back as he slid past me through the narrow opening, and I did what I could to keep my body from trembling.

      "With pleasure."

      Three minutes was all it took for him to back away in shame. I held the bills up to the light, rubbing every bit of my win into his angered face, and watched as his buddies continued to chuckle and pat him on the back. I almost thought he had me for a minute, with his little whispers and delicate touches as he passed me. He thought he could throw me off, but to no surprise, he was not the only that could play dirty.

      "What's your name?" He asked, taking a seat next to me at the bar.

      "Don't have one," I said, slinging back the shot one of his friends had left on the table. It burned in the only way the smokey cinnamon could, and I smiled as he ordered us more.

     I glanced down at my phone as it buzzed, and I groaned the moment I flipped it open. I had two missed calls and missed texts from Dean, but it was apparent by his words that he wasn't that far away.

       "Who's a tool?" The guy asked me, glancing over my shoulder. I quickly pulled my phone shut and shook my head, throwing out some excuse I wouldn't remember in five minutes.

     My eyes drifted around the bar as the kid continued to talk. I nodded and hmmed when appropriate, but I was surprised he hadn't noticed my sudden lack of interest as I physically moved away from in my search Dean. 

     I found him on the other side of the bar. There was a clear shot between him and the pool table, and by the looks of the empty glass and the half-full one he had been sipping on, I could only assume he had been watching for a little while.

      "I gotta go," I said without giving the mumbling man a second glance and hopped down off my barstool with our two shots in hand.

     "What about a re-match?"

     I waved my hand behind me and told him to find me later because I now had a Winchester to win over.

It had been something that I had been thinking about all week long. They both knew I was leaving after this, but I'd be lying though if I had said that a part of me didn't want to stay with them. I knew it was a bad idea for all of us, especially with my track record, but even though they had been overbearing the last few days, it was nice to know that there was someone that cared whether I was still breathing. Even if it was because it was their job.

     "Cock blocking me again, Winchester?" I asked with a cold stare. "I thought we talked about that."

     "You talked. I listened."

     "And I could have sworn I told you to stay out of my sexual affairs."

     "Your what now?" Sam's voice chimed from behind me, and I turned to see him standing there in a blush.

     He cleared his throat with an awkward chuckle, and I clenched my eyes closed in frustration before moving to the side and letting him slide into the booth. The brothers stared at each other for a moment as I called myself and set both shots of fireball down in front of them.