Dean pulls into the parking lot of a cute, charming diner that I have never seen before. It's a small, red building that has a big sign by it. The sign reads, in big, bold letters:
P.J.'S DINER - STOP AND GRAB A BITE!
The aggressiveness of the font choice kind of adds to the charm of the small building. Windows are placed in random spots, and the door to get inside is made of metal.
Dean, Sam, and I clamber out of the car (Sam with more difficulty, since he's tall as hell), walking into the diner afterwards.
It's even more charming on the inside. There's just the right amount of tables, and it's got that 1950s aesthetic going on.
After a few minutes, we're lead to a table. We sit down. Sam and Dean are across from me.
"Your server, Catherine, will be with you shortly," the hostess says, smiling sweetly. I notice that that smile is directed more towards the Winchesters than towards me, but I can't blame her. These boys are pretty attractive.
"Thank you," Sam replies, Dean only acknowledging the hostess' existence with a small nod in her direction.
The hostess seems a bit let down by this and slumps away.
I try to hold in my snicker.
"So," Dean begins, his green eyes burning into mine, "we think we may know why you were pulled out of Hell."
There's a bit of silence, so I ask, "Why?"
"Now, take this with a grain of salt," Dean says. "This is just a theory. I'm only speaking from past experiences."
"Past experiences?" I question. "You've been through this before?"
Dean nods. "It was not fun. But, I was pulled out of Hell by an angel. So was Sammy, by the same angel. So, I don't think it's unfair to say that you were yanked out by one of them, too."
I can feel my eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Why would an angel pull me out? What would they want with me?"
"When I was pulled out and had met the angel that had done it, he said that God had plans for me," Dean responds. "So, maybe the man upstairs has plans for you too."
I think about that for a minute. Why me? Why would God have plans for me? I'm just your average Joe.
And then, want shoots through my body. Want to know for sure why I was pulled out.
And I know exactly how to know for sure.
I'm about to say to Dean and Sam what I wanna say, but then the waitress comes.
"Hey, guys. My name is Catherine and I'll be taking care of you all today," she states, smiling. This time, the smile is directed at all of us. Catherine takes out her pad and pen and asks, "Can I start you guys off with something to drink?"
We all order our respective drinks, and Catherine writes down our orders as we say them. Once she's done, she smiles brightly and says, "Those should be right out. Are you guys ready to order food, or do you need a few minutes?"
Because I want her to go away (and because I don't know what I want to eat yet), I say, "We need a minute, thanks."
Catherine nods and walks away.
"Do you guys keep in touch with the angel that pulled you guys out?" I ask lowly as soon as Catherine is out of earshot.
Sam nods. "Yeah. He's our best friend."
I smile. "Great. Do you guys think you could get him down from wherever the hell he is so that I can know for sure why I was pulled out?"
Sam and Dean look at each other and shrug. "Yeah, we can do that," Sam says, looking at me with a small smile.
"After we get some food in that gut, of course," Dean adds, pointing at me and smirking.
I smile, rolling my eyes. "Of course."
I really like the Winchesters when they aren't trying to kill me.
***
Once we get our food, we eat it and have a grand old time. Us three don't have any trouble talking to each other, since we have the same beliefs and general interests.
And before I know it, it's time to leave.
Dean tips Catherine a generous amount, and I think that he's doing it out of the kindness of his heart until I see the smirk that lines his face as he puts the money on the table.
"Really, dude?" Sam asks, laughing a little at his thirsty brother.
"What?" Dean laughs as well, standing up, Sam following. "She deserves it." He winks.
Among the large amounts of money, I see a slip of paper. I grab it.
It reads:
(345)-789-203. Call me. ;)
-Dean <3
(That was obviously not a valid number so please don't try calling it.)
"Wow," I say, giggling as I return the slip of paper to the table. "So you're that guy, huh, Dean?"
"Yeah," Sam answers as Dean pouts. Us three then begin to walk back to his stunning Impala. "He is definitely that guy."
"What, so it's a crime to offer your number to a beautiful lady?" he asks as we arrive at the Impala.
"No, but it's sketchy how much you do that," Sam responds, laughing a bit.
Dean whines as he unlocks the doors so that we can get in. We all do just that.
As Dean pulls out of the diner's parking lot, I say, "So, about this angel that I'm meeting... What's he like?"
"He's a big softie," Dean answers immediately. "He's very clueless about modern things, since he's been around for a super long time, and he'll tell you everything you need to know. If he knows anything, of course, which he might not. The business of some angels are kept secret from the others."
"What's his name?" I ask.
"Castiel," Sam answers. "We mostly just call him Cas, though."
Castiel, you're gonna owe me quite the explanation.
Silence then coats the car, which gives my mind a chance to wander.
And guess who it wanders to.
Crowley.
Part of me misses him. And that part is pretty huge, outweighing my feelings of annoyance towards him.
His smile, his beautiful hazel eyes, that stunning accent of his, the way his lips fitted together with mine when we kissed... Even his snark has grown on me.
He's a thing of the past, though. I'll never see him again. I'll go to Heaven and have a peaceful afterlife.
An afterlife free of Crowley.
As much as I hate to admit it, that thought makes me feel sad.
Maybe we can have a run-in someday.
For my sake, I hope so.