Supernatural: The Long Night

Issue #22 There you go...a Supernatural TLN Series

We went back to Bobby’s. He didn’t seem too upset to see us, only surprised when he saw, me injured, again.

He made me sit up on the counter like a child, so he could examine Sam and Dean's handy work.

“We aren’t going to make this a habit are we?” He asked irritating me.

I narrowed my eyes, “I certainly hope not.”

Sam told him about my daemon and Bobby listened with interest. “Hm…I heard in some lore that Interlopers have one, they tend to get killed sooner that way, but I’ve never heard of the two becoming one before,”

He nodded as I told him about it being a wolf, “Makes sense to me,” He replied easily.

I raised my eyebrows, “How does that make any sense?”

“Well, you’re weakness is silver right?”

I answered, “To a certain degree yes.” Jewelry I could wear but once it broke the skin I was screwed. Dean and Sam later told me that after Bobby stitched me up the first time they coated the silver needle with paint so I wasn’t getting burned while they attempted to stitch me up.

“Well, then there you go. What do you think your wolf’s weakness was?” Bobby stated this like it was a fact of life and I didn’t question his methods, even though he questioned mine. Mainly because I got beaten up half the time with mine.

Then Dean and Sam showed the books to me. The books on their life all the way up to Dean going to hell, which I had never known he had been there till reading it. They informed me that a guy named Chuck Shirley was the author, not the name on the book. He had made a living off their stories, and it was just as irritating as it was embarrassing to them.

So what did I do while they looked for a new case? I read. And read. And read some more, trying to understand what they didn’t feel like explaining to me. As I read I was surprised on how much lore was true. Vampires, demons, even the wendigo were real. From the sounds of it though vampires were more like human sharks and the werewolves sounded more like fanged, wolf-eyed people while the wendigo were nasty superhuman cannibals. Didn’t want to cross any one of them on the street; and I thought demons were bad enough.

Two weeks passed and no cases. I had finished up the books a week ago and I was getting bored and homesick. Every night I was having the vision of the paw prints on the beach, but every time it was a little bit different. Sometimes there’d be palm trees, sometimes rocks, even crowds of people on occasion, but a face never stuck in my head.  I even looked for a sign to see where I was in the vision but there were still no signs or buildings.

Eventually my stitches were removed. Leaving a plain, jagged white scar on my shoulder and two thin white stripes down my legs as the scar tissue was fresh. If I ever made it home I couldn’t think of a way to explain to anyone on how I got these.

I thanked Bobby and then it was another night in the spare bedroom, facing homesickness and lack of sleep. I really didn’t want to sleep, as soon as I would I’d start having visions again.

But tonight was different. Tonight I wasn’t all alone.

This vision it was all empty again…

A beach with paw prints. But this time the paw prints turned in my direction on the sparkling sand and then I saw her.

She lay down in the sand next to me. I could feel the warmth of the sun and her fur. She stared out into the ocean, her russet fur gleaming like gold.

Things are about to change….

The voice was mine, but more hauntingly beautiful. I looked at the wolf, but her lips were unmoving.

Things are going to change, prepare for the worst…

The wolf’s head turned and she stared at me. When I stared at her I saw myself in the blue abyss…

I woke up with a groan. Why did life have to be so rough? I heard voices out into the hall.

“I don’t want to go!” Sam said, obviously irritated. “What if this is just some trick of hers?”

Dean scoffed, “To what? Get you into her claws? I doubt it Sammy.”

“Well, even if you guys do go, what’s to say you’ll even find him? After all he’s been missing for over a year.”

“Dammit Bobby we have to at least look! Figure out where he is at any rate.”

“Find out where who is?” I had stepped into the hall by this time, I was only wearing a blue T-shirt and black undies, but I didn’t care. These guys had seen me in a bra already.

“Chuck’s missing.” Sam answered.

“He’s the writer right?” I asked, he nodded.

“Yeah,” Sam answered. We hadn’t found out until today. Dean got a call on his cell from Becky, who found Chucks phone when she was going through his stuff.”

“Sounds like a peachy girl.” I said tiredly, “When are we heading out?”

No one answered, “Well, we are going right?”

“They want you to stay here.” Bobby answered for them.

It was at that moment I became angry. “Why?” I growled. “I’m sorry, but I’m getting sick of being cooped up. Its been two weeks—no visions—nothing. If I don’t go somewhere soon I’m going to start beating my head against the wall.”

Dean looked at me with disdain, “You just got your stitches out,”

“Yeah,” I answered, “But I’ve also been away from home for two weeks, and if you leave me here long enough to make me dwell on that much longer, I’m not going to be pleasant to anyone. That's a promise,” I said sternly. That was the case. I’d be depressed and beyond agitated. It was because if I wasn’t doing anything here, I wanted to be home.

“Fine, you can come.” Dean caved. “Just don’t get yourself hurt.”

I scoffed, “Didn’t plan on it.”

Bags packed, guns loaded, we were on the road again.