Monster (A Supernatural Fanfiction) [1]

Chapter 9: 4.22.1 Lucifer Rising

"Oh, I'm not his girlfriend." She shook her head and ran a hand through her tangled blonde locks. "Mm-mm. Definitely not his girlfriend." Bobby arched an eyebrow at her and shifted his gaze to Dean who rolled his eyes. "But I am Cassandra Moore." Bobby nodded.

"You're cute. I like you." Red heat crept its way up Cassandra's neck, sneaking onto her cheeks as she stared back at Bobby with a sheepish smile. He snickered and shook his head. "What do you normally eat for breakfast?"

"I don't eat breakfast."

"Do Nephilims not eat?" Bobby looked to Dean for an answer. Dean, not paying attention, glanced between the older Hunter and the blonde upon the silence. Realizing that he was supposed to answer a question he thought back to what he had heard.

"Uh, Cassandra says fast food disgusts her and that's all we ate," Dean replied, praying that it was the correct answer. He yawned and pulled his arms behind his shoulders, stretching out the cricks and soreness from sleeping on the couch with another person. "And then the one time she did eat she puked it up the next day." Cassandra bit her tongue to keep herself from speaking. She wanted to explain that it was from the stench that lingered from her nightmare but she decided against it.

"I really wasn't feeling well that week," Cassandra decided to say. Bobby nodded slowly. "So whatever you're having is fine with me."

"Okay then. Why don't you two get ready for the day and I'll start on breakfast," Bobby suggested. Cassandra nodded and glanced around before sighing and turning to the blond on the couch behind her.

"Dean, I don't have any clothes. My backpack was left at the crash," Cassandra told him. Dean nodded and stood up, the blanket falling from around his waist. Dean swept Cassandra off her feet and held her bridal style, earning a squeal from the blonde.

"Let's see if there're any jeans left over from mine or Sam's teenage years here," he replied. Cassandra glanced around the house as Dean carried her, furrowing her eyebrows at all of the books. She made a mental note to ask Dean or Bobby about them later.

"You and Sam grew up here?" she questioned, tucking her legs closer to Dean when they turned a corner. Dean nodded his head to the side before shrugging.

"More or less. We were mostly on the road with my dad. He'd leave us at motels while he was working the hunt and I had to look after Sam. If we were in the area then he'd leave us with Bobby and we'd either train or if Bobby was having a good day then he'd let us be normal kids for that day," Dean explained. Cassandra frowned up at the Hunter. Dean glanced down at her, furrowing his eyebrows at her expression.

"You didn't have a normal childhood?" Dean shook his head. "But for school Sam had gotten a full-ride. Did you not go to college?" Dean shook his head once again.

"Despite us switching schools every few weeks, Sam managed to have straight A's and get a full-ride to Stanford. The night he left was hell for all three of us, but we had managed to push through it for the few years that he was gone. And then me, well, I was a high school dropout. Got my GED and continued to hunt with my dad up until the day he died." Cassandra sighed and glanced away upon hearing his story. "Why do you ask?"

"You never wanted anything more? College? A girlfriend or wife? Kids?" Dean didn't show any sign of reply. They both knew that she had asked that question before but Dean had brushed her off with a simple answer. This time she was hoping that he'd tell her what he actually wanted, not what he couldn't have.

Dean pushed open the third door to the left and walked in the room, flipping on the light switch before setting Cassandra down. She steadied herself on her feet before glancing around. The room was bare. A bed in the far corner, a dresser next to the door, a small closet across from the bed, and a wooden desk wedged in the corner between the dresser and the wall. She turned her attention to the walls. Instead of molding like most of the motel rooms they stayed at, the paper was just peeling.