Supernatural: The Long Night

Issue #14 Unwritten...a Supernatural TLN Series

Where did we go? We went to a supercenter…not Macy’s. Macy’s didn’t sound bad, now that I thought about it, but I guess I didn’t mind the supercenter that much. It’s not like these guys were loaded with money, if you don’t include all of the credit card scams, etc, they were relatively broke. That’s fine; I needed to get other stuff besides clothes anyways.

Poor Sammy, he was stuck with me; apparently the Winchesters feared I would be next on the hit list for whatever was killing Interlopers. I tried to explain to them they just died from awful luck, but no one believed me.

I grabbed a few clothes, nothing too inconspicuous, I was trying to think rationally, buying clothes and shoes that’d be easy to run in, underwear that wasn’t for entertainment purposes, and bras…what can I say about the bras?

Well, one thing I can say is I’ve never seen someone’s face turn so red. Sam cleared his throat and looked the other way. I thought this was entertaining, but I tried to let him keep his dignity as I asked, “So what’s Dean up to?”

“Um…he went to go grab dinner.” He said, “We probably won’t stop at a diner tonight, because of what happened last time.” I nodded, still couldn’t keep from smiling. I was a bit big chested, so as I grabbed a size that would fit me; I didn’t think his eyes could widen much more.

“So, much for inconspicuous.” I muttered, and I saw his eyes quickly avert, “Well, listen, I’ve got to go try these on and pick up a few other things. Why don’t you go to Dean, and save your dignity and mine?”

“Well, the thing is…you shouldn’t be left alone.” Sam admitted.

I rolled my eyes. “Oh, go on, I’m not going to get killed in Wal-Mart, I promise,” Sam still didn't move, "Unless you wanna help me try these on, I've still got a bum shoulder you know." I wiggled my eyebrows suggestively, trying to get rid of him. 

Willingly he dug out his cell phone. “Fine, call Dean when you’re done.” I took it and he rushed off.

Finally, I felt so self-conscious with him around. I continued shopping, tried on clothes and got a pair of hiking boots. Those would be a little more realistic. By the time it was done I had grabbed my wardrobe and other necessities.

I when I walked in the direction of the store that Sam and Dean were. Then I paused in the book aisle. There on the shelves lay a leather-bound book. It was a sketchbook, the book held close only by a hide string. It was ten dollars, immediately I took it and flipped through the pages, they were unwritten.

I called Dean’s cell phone since I was unable to find them. They were in the frozen food section, it was a wonder Dean hadn’t grabbed a cart, but he carried everything. A case of beer, oreos, ice cream and pie were piled up to his shoulders. Course, I wasn’t much better. I had clothes draped over my arms and other stuff scooped up into my hands. The leather-bound sketchbook was hugged tightly in my hands.

“So you got everything you need?” I nodded.

We went to the hotel room; we had to stay in the area. The morgue was haunted. The interlopers were dead, I already known, but was I next on the list? They had explained everything to me, the silver burning after it had broken the skin.

 Johnny Cash played the song “Hurt” in the motel room. “What have I become? My sweetest friend? Everyone I know goes away in the end….” We got one room, to share. It was odd, sharing a room with two guys, but I would not complain about my luck.