17 - "That's really it?"

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January 2006

I wake up the next morning with whiskey breath to Dean on the phone, arguing with someone.

"Listen, I don't care if you can't take me as a reliable source. I just wanted to let you know that Dallas isn't going to be in today. She had a shitty afternoon yesterday and drank all her pain away. She needs to deal with her own shit before she deals with other people's shit." Dean explains to who I'm hoping is Mic.

"Give me the phone." I groan. "It's Dallas."

"Dal, you're late." Mic says.

"I'm not coming in for the rest of the month, disperse my cases. All the files are alphabetized in my drawers. Matt and I just broke up, and it's going to take me a while to sort through my brain."

"Are you sure you want to use those vacation weeks?"

"I have years of them, plus bonuses. I'm sure I want to use them, Mic. I'll see you in mid-February." I say, and then hang up.

"What are you going to do for a month?"

"Hunt." I say, and get out of bed, packing a bag.

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I'm going to hunt."

"You haven't been on a hunt since that Wendigo in Colorado. Shit has hit the fan since then."

"Give me a summary then."

"Me and Sam almost died while exorcising a demon on a plane that was going to crash-"

"You hate planes!"

"Oh I know. We killed Bloody Mary, I was framed by a shapeshifter and almost went to jail, Sammy kissed a girl who was being protected by a hook killer spirit, a real scary case with bugs. I hated that one." He shivers. "An evil spirit was hidden inside my house. From when I was a baby, the one my mom died in. She was there, and she told them to go away. I saw my mom again."

"Oh Dean." I cup his jaw.

"And then there was a loony bin we saved, and since then, Sam and I have been trying to lay low, and round up some cash. He's been out on Long Island, where he went to high school, to get a job, and I'm on the way to pick him up."

"I can get you a job here if you're trying to-"

"I've made plenty of money during the break, sweetheart. But if you're coming on the road, I want you to know, Sam's been having these dreams. They're weird. Like, psychic weird."

"Like Bernadette psychic or visions psychic?"

"Visions. He's," He shakes his head. "He said he dreamed about Jess' death, and then he dreamed about this tree in front of our old house, and, he was right. I don't know what to think about it, but if he's right, I can't doubt him, even though I think he should be in a loony bin."

"You're awful."

"You could send him."

"You're awful!" I punch him and pack my gun and machete. "Now are you going to let me hunt or no?"

"Come on sugarplum. And be sure to tell your roommate and give her our numbers."

"Rosie!" I shout, walking into her room. She's still asleep. "Rose, wake up." I shake her.

"Where are you going?" She asks after a minute.

"I'm going on a road trip with Sam and Dean, and maybe my brothers. Clear my head. See the world."

"Okay. Hannah should be stopping in this week, what do you want me to tell her?"

"Tell her to call me." I say, and pull a piece of paper from the floor. It was blank, so I picked up the marker on her desk, and wrote down Sam, Dean, Ricki, and Heath's numbers. "And she should have mine, but I'll keep you updated if I get a new number. I should be back in time to pay rent next month."

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