The Angel of Anxiety [A Supernatural FanFiction]

Chapter II - I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues

"That's why you chew your food," Dean muttered under his breath.

Charlie slapped his shoulder and Dean made an exclamation of pain. The redhead rolled her eyes. "Are you alright, Leila?"

"You look like you've seen a ghost," Sam commented. His eyebrows knit together with worry and he looked over his shoulder quickly before looking back to Leila. "... Did you?"

"There aren't any spirits in here," Castiel replied.

Dean threw his hand up in the air at Castiel's comment. For everything that angel knew, he didn't know much. Leila gave herself one last blow to the chest and coughed a couple times for good measure. Probably stalling so she didn't have to answer Sam's ghost question.

"Pretty damn close to a ghost," Leila mumbled, her eyes wide as she stared at the plate of fries she no longer wanted to eat. She pushed the plate forward slightly.

"Are you gonna fill us in, kid?" Dean asked as he raised his eyebrows expectantly.

Leila tilted her head slightly to her left and forwards. The table stared at her curiously. More obvious the second time, Leila nodded her head to her left.

"You got a tick or something?" Dean asked. He gave her a questioning look.

"Oh for the love of—" Leila sighed. "Do I have to yell it? Look over your right shoulder, Dean."

Naturally the other four at the table looked in the direction Leila had pointed simultaneously. Leila smacked herself in the forehead and sunk lower in her seat, hand still over her face. Was there a way to be absorbed into the floor and never seen again? Even if the diner was dimly lit, if the girl had been looking, it wouldn't have been the best to have four people staring at her at the same time.

"How have you guys gone so long without being arrested?" Leila asked, her hand jutting out in front of her. "You're subtle as guns for God's sake."

"Dean has," Sam replied as he looked back at the young girl and received a glare from his brother. "Just... Just so you know."

"You have too, you bitch," Dean replied. "What's so special about some chick eating soup by herself?"

"That's not just some—" Leila caught herself as her voice went shrill.

Dean lifted his beer bottle to his lips as he raised his eyebrows at the outburst. "Gay," he muttered under his breath before taking a sip. Charlie smacked Dean's shoulder, causing him to yelp and nearly spill his beer on himself.

Leila cheeks reddened and she slumped slightly lower in her chair. "I meant—um," Leila stumbled over her words and pulled her hair out from behind her ear so it fell in front of her blushing face. "We, um, we met at the hospital."

"The hospital?" Sam asked. "Like..." He cleared his throat. "That hospital?"

"Yes, the hospital that Dean left me at," Leila said, not bothering to pretend she wasn't still angry about it. Bitter words for bitter memories that would never leave her. "I mean, before the solitary confinement of being knocked out by those shitty doctors." She rubbed her shoulder slightly through the flannel shirt Dean had let her borrow, knowing the scars from scratching the syringe scabs were still there.

"What does this have to do with this girl?" Sam asked, bringing the conversation back to where it needed to be.

Leila was blushing again. "She's just over there, and—and I don't know, could that help us? Maybe she prays to Saint—"