I Don't Wanna Live Forever

Ch 10

TRIGGER WARNING: MENTIONS OF SUICIDE AND ATTEMPTS AS WELL AS SELF-HARMING

    I'd fallen asleep at my desk. Well, it was Mick's desk but he lets me use it and has even offered on numerous occasions to let me take it over. I politely declined but he proceeded to make it something we could both use. I was working on doing some research when the exhaustion from training had come sweeping in.

 “Where the bloody hell is Mr. Davies?” Hess snaps, jolting me awake from my nap.      “Hunting. Working a demonic possession case.” I stifle a yawn.

“And why are you in his office?”

“I was doing some research.” I look at her.  

  “And what about your training?”

 “Grace and Mr. Ketch have been working on it with me.”

 She seems annoyed by this answer. I think she wants me to fail. Maybe it's because I think for myself and she wants yes men. Or she's scared of me.

 “So, what can I do for you Dr. Hess?” I ask as I stretch slightly.

  “Work this case. You'll have to work with two American hunters but… you'll manage I suppose.” She tosses the file on the desk. The papers scatter and some even float to the floor. Hess walks out without another word.

 I mutter a few choice words about her as I leave the chair and start to gather up the papers. Mick would be gone for a few more days so I figured taking the case wouldn't hurt. I straighten out the papers as I put them back into the file they came from. Vampire nest. Easy enough. I skim through the papers as I head to my quarters. Wordlessly, I start to pack my bag and my fingers dance as I try to remember what else I need. Clothes and laptop were packed. I could pick up a machete on the way out the door. I shrug on a jacket not realizing it's Mick’s until I look at how large it is on me. A small smile crosses my lips as I head out, shouldering my bag as I do.

 I'm thankful I get to use my old pickup truck for this case. I was kind of getting tired of cushy SUV’s that the Brits used. The gravel crunches under my tires in a pleasing manner as I park. In the space a few away from mine is an old Impala. I cut the engine, examining the car as I get out.

 “You sure that the Brits said they were sending someone?” A man with green eyes half-whispers.

 “They did. Mick text me it.” His taller colleague says.

 “Yeah, cause I trust that guy so much.” The first guy grumbles.

 “Give her a chance, Dean.” A girl coaxes. She smiles sweetly at me. “I'm Savannah, this is Dean and Sam. Are you the one that the Brits sent?”

 I nod. “Nice to meet y'all. I'm Brie.” I offer my hand in a handshake.

 Dean looks confused. “No accent?”

 “U.S. recruit.” I shrug. “Sam and Dean Winchester? As in the Winchesters?”

 Sam nods slowly. “You've heard of us.”

 “Mick talks very highly of you and Arthur has some grudging respect for you both.” There was no way I was going to admit to reading the Supernatural books.

 Dean looks miffed. “Arthur? So you're on a first name basis with Ketch… I totally trust her now.” He rolls his eyes.

Savannah gives him a stern look. “Dean. Be nice.” She flashes me an apologetic smile. “So how long have you been hunting?”

 “Just under a month.” I sheepishly admit.

Dean lets out an exasperated sigh. “Why are we here? When the Brits said that they would be sending someone to work a case with us I figured it be something good. Like they had a damn lead on Kelly.”