Hope is a Dangerous Thing [EDITING]

Chapter Eight

We landed on a busy sidewalk in the middle of a sleepy town. I blinked a few times and wobbled lightly at the new position. I pulled back from Cas and looked around to see if we could find a place where we could all sit down. Dean raised an eyebrow towards me as I adjusted my backpack straps, eyeing a diner across the street as it was the perfect place to sit down. Everyone haphazardly followed me across the street. Even though it was a city, it was one of those that was in the middle of nowhere we call the midwest. The rest of the group followed me into the diner where a cheery waitress met us.

    "Hello, welcome to Mom's Diner. How many?" She was the same small town woman you would see in any diner. Young, probably no more than twenty years old with blonde hair, blue eyes and a bubbly personality.

    "Six," I paused for a moment and doubted my original count. We've got Sam, Dean, Cas, James, Samantha and I. Three and three...six. "Yeah, six."

    The woman picked up some menus and turned her back to us, "Follow me please."

    We followed her back into a room more secluded from the front. It got even darker than the light that had been coming through the front. I turned my attention back to the hunters. They were exchanging a similar look. We all looked at each other, worry coming over the seasoned hunters faces. I turned my attention back to the woman dragging us deepened and deeper into the restaurant before she sat us down at a booth. Being so deep in the restaurant rightfully put me on edge.

    The waitress placed the menus on the table, "If you need anything, let me know. Your server will be over shortly."

    I sat down in my seat and rubbed my eye lazily. There was a slight pain in it but I didn't pay it any attention. I just allowed myself to rub at the eye. Maybe there was something in there but I didn't know anything about my own right eye. I still felt pain and odd things in my eye but I couldn't see out of it so I didn't mind the pain in my eye. I just allowed my hand to rub lazily at my eye before turning my attention to the people who were all waiting on my information.

    The cool plastic of my binder was more familiar than my own hands at this point. I laid it down on the desk, something I always knew would end up making more noise than what I had deemed necessary. Dean shifted almost uncomfortably at the sight of the binder. Everyone else seemed more occupied with the menus instead of looking at the binder. I flipped the pages and turned my attention to those who we had already seen. We were going to have to keep going if it meant anything. Dean still watched me intently with eyes glued to the pages. I quickly turned my head to him with the intention of speaking but no words came out. I just closed my mouth and finished my flipping.      

    "Okay," I caught the attention of everyone else who had not been paying close attention to me and my binder. "Joe Henderson. Born in April in Mississippi and died a week before Halloween of a heart attack in Indiana. Of course he died at the age of twenty-seven. He was a gospel and R&B singer."

    "When are we going to get to the good ones," Dean groaned. "You know, Joplin, Hendrix, fucking Cobain!"

    "Well, I am hoping that we don't have to get to Cobain...his death hits a little too close to home for me," I whispered as I remembered the day I was told that my friend had committed suicide. "So we're going to have to stop this witch before then because I am not watching him die."

    "Oh," Dean paused for a moment as if he was trying to recall that day as well. "I don't think you ever told me about that. I'm sorry."

    "You're right, I never told you about it because you were on a hunt so there's no reason to feel sorry."

    "Okay but what about Joplin and Hendrix. They're going to be interesting. Surely we'll get to them soon, right?" Dean tapped on the table excitedly, a large smile appearing on his face.