Thoughtless (UNDER EDITING)

Chapter 8 (Under Editing)

We've been in the Impala for hours now. I have no idea where we're headed besides that the boys called it "the bunker." I'm not entirely sure that I want to know what the bunker is used for, but I'm not leaving the brothers now. Not after two attempts of trying to get away and failing miserably. I guess I'm stuck between a rock and a hard place. On one hand: I hate being cooped up with Dean Winchester in the same car; but on the other hand: I like Sam, he's like a big brother and a puppy. Then on the other other hand: I think I'm growing feelings for Dean... No, stop, no I'm not.

"So get this," Sam breaks the awkward silence while his nose is buried in an old leather-bound book that has papers sticking out the sides. "Dad had a case that he never finished with a Shtriga in Kansas."

"Those damn things that feed off the souls of sleeping children?" Dean shivers and I wonder what exactly they're talking about. "After we ganked that son of a bitch that came after you as a kid I never wanted to see one of those fugly things again."

"I'm sorry, ganked?" I speak up and look ahead of me at Dean.

"It means killed, taken out, adios bitch," Dean explains as he parks.

"Oh," I reply lamely and get out with the boys. They descend some stone stairs and unlock an iron door.

"This is the bunker, Cass," Sam welcomes me as we all head inside the dark area. Once Dean finds the light switch I am awestricken. It definitely doesn't appear to be as huge as it is inside from the outside. Starting from the entrance is an opening to put keys and shoes and jackets and what not; but then, through the threshold of a doorless frame, there's a wide and open multipurpose area. A large mahogany table sits in the middle adorned with large, matching chairs. Book shelves line some of the corners and through a large archway there's a spiral staircase that ascends above the ceiling and decends underground as well.

I'm absolutely breathless as I take in my surroundings and begin to shrug out of my jacket.

"Don't get to comfortable, Princess," Dean says and walks off to one of the many rooms I'm sure are in the back. I'm confused as I start after him.

"I thought we were staying?" I ask, puzzled as I find him in what looks like a kitchen. He begins to make some coffee, putting grounds into the top of the maker and the pot in the bottom. Once it starts brewing he turns to me.

"No way, like I said when we left the hospital," he grabs a small coffee cup and turns it in his hands, "we're taking you to Bobby's."

I scoff and cross my arms, "No way, you said you'd show me what you and Sam do for a living!" There is no way in hell he's about to make me leave. He stalked me to the hospital and now he's just gonna drop me and wash his hands of me.

"How did I end up in the hospital anyway?"

I notice he takes his coffee black and he leans back on the small granite counter top. After almost downing the scalding liquid he sets the cup down and rests his hands on either side of himself on the edge.

"Djinn. It snatched you up after you left, should've listened to me. Now I can't trust your judgement," Dean rolls his sleeves up and I notice a strange raised mark on his right forearm. "Now your arms are torn up, though they're healing like you're some frigging magician. I don't know what to do with you!" His voice raises towards the end; I take a step back and look down at my feet. I don't know how to respond or how to react. I shake my head without a word and leave the room. Sam is sitting at the table in the large open area and I slide a chair out across from him and plop down.

Dean is so cruel and so damn frustrating. I never did anything to him and that's why I left in the first place; that, and because he utterly frightens me in the worst and best possible way. He's just overwhelming. I feel like I can't handle it and I lay my head down.

"We have a guest room, Cassie, if you'd like to rest," I glance up and Sam is looking at me, sliding his research aside. I nod but am unmoved due to lack of motivation.

I want to sleep, but I can't bring my eyes to close as thoughts of Dean Winchester dance through my head. His piercing green eyes and freckled face, bow legs and broad shoulders, angled jaw and built stature. I can't shake him and it's beginning to annoy me.

"Souix Falls, South Dakota," Sam's voice cuts through the menacing silence and I sit up, straightening in my chair.

"What?"

"I just got a text message from Jody Mills," Sam explains as Dean walks into the multi-purpose area.

"Jody," Dean grins and slams a full duffle bag on the table in front of me. His face droops into the frown that seems to be permanently etched into his features, "One." His voice thick with annoyance, "you have one last chance to prove yourself. You come on a hunt with us and if you get out minimally damaged, we will train you."

His words are dry, but I can see a little spark engnite in his eyes. Dean grips his right arm and hisses in a small breath. I'm still trying to figure out how I will be able to hunt with them if I'm untrained. Yeah, practice makes perfect, but I have never picked up a weapon in my life...that I know of at least.

"Let's hit the road then," Dean smiles grimly and grabs something wrapped in cloth, but he leaves so briskly, I'm not able to ask any questions.

Sam's face holds no emotion as he clenches his jaw and follows his older brother.

The duffle bag isn't as heavy as I thought as I speed after the Winchesters.

Once in the car, I put my black bag, that was assigned to me, in the seat to my right. Dean begins to chat with Sam.

"Can Jody handle her current situation until we take care of the Shtriga?"

"She should be able to, it's only three werewolves."

Great. What am I getting myself into?