**Yay! Finally passed writer's block :3 This story makes me so happy. I love it. This is told in Isabella's POV, 7 years after the incident.**
I rolled over in my bed, facing the double doors with glass windows that lead onto the patio. It was still nighttime, but I could light a lantern. Quietly standing up, I glanced over my shoulder to find my boyfriend, Garrett, still fast asleep. Grabbing my leather jacket, I tossed it over my bare shoulders, not bothering to thread my arms through the sleeves. Tiptoeing across the creaky wooden flooring of my second level patio, I used my hands to help balance myself as I brought both legs over the railing, allowing them to swing as I sat.
Nearly every fiber of my being craved for moments like this. Silence, serenity, straight and pure peace. However, knowing the things that I did, and the stuff I'd seen, my mind knew it was impossible. Actually putting on my jacket, I reached a slender hand into the right side pocket, pulling out a lighter. Reaching into the left breast pocket, I drew out a stray cigarette. Flicking the lighter until the end of the cig caught, I stared out into the thicket of woods that my house was placed in.
As the night waned on, smoke twirled upwards from my cigarette, disappearing into the crisp air the higher it reached. Thunder rumbled a few times, but no rain fell. Soon, the morning birds began to sing and dew dotted the leaves of pines and grass in my front yard. As I poked a few fingers into my breast pocket for another cigarette to smoke, I found it empty. I sighed, deciding to just enjoy the rest of the rising sun. Walking over to the futon mattress Garrett and I had thrown onto a patio swing, the 2 doors opened, revealing a newly awakened Garrett.
"Izzy, did you do it again?" He groggily asked, rubbing his eyes.
"Do what? And how many times do I have to tell you, Garrett? Don't call me that." I scoffed, walking back inside the bedroom with him trailing behind.
"Fine, Isabella. You can't keep skipping out on sleep like this. Especially after a hunt." I turned to Garrett, who was reaching for clothes from the dresser.
"What? It was just a vamp nest and a skinwalker in one week. No big deal." I scoffed, heading downstairs.
Waltzing into the aged kitchen, my eyes browsed through 6 or so boxes of stale cereal, before shutting the cupboard door and tossing open the fridge. Garrett came down shortly thereafter, fully dressed except for fixing his hair.
"What're you all dressed up for?" I asked, even though he was rather casual.
"Did you forget? We have a meeting with Bobby today. He says there's a potential case a couple states over." Garrett dug in his jeans pocket for the keys to our royal blue, 1970's Trans Am.
"Well shit..." I muttered, realizing I was still in my pajamas.
"I'll go fire up the car. You get dressed." He laughed at me, ruffling my hair.
Bobby was a very close friend of ours. I'd met him after a Windigo came after me while I was travelling away from home, quite a few counties over. He'd taken me in, and shown me the ways of hunting. I met Garrett after his parents were killed by a demon outbreak in Saint Paul, Minnesota. I ran back upstairs, shuffling through the bedroom in an attempt to find a semi-decent outfit. Throwing on a CBGB shirt, black skinnies, Chuck Taylor's, and some maroon/black flannel, I snagged my phone and ran downstairs. The last thing I grabbed, was the laptop bag.
The ride to Bobby's house took us about 45 minutes, even on zero-traffic backroads. Once we rounded the last corner to his driveway, a black Chevy Impala was exiting. I couldn't get a good glimpse of the driver, but I could somewhat make out a passenger as well. Garrett paid them no mind, and instead continued to pull into Bobby's driveway. Once we got out of the car, I heard what must've been that car's engine revving in the distance. I walked up, knocking on the front door. An older, scruffy-facial-haired man answered, looking as us like we'd risen from the dead.
"Bobby." I smirked, patting him on the shoulder and walking inside. Garrett followed shyly after.
"You guys are late! I almost gave your case away!" He exclaimed, walking angrily to his library room.
"We made it though!" I exclaimed, dropping my arms at my side.
"S-She forgot." Garrett stammered, taking a seat in front of Bobby's desk.
"Dammit, Isabella!" Bobby thumped my head, motioning for me to take a seat next to Garrett.
"So, any leads?" I questioned, rubbing a hand on the back of my head.
"As of right now, just the 4 missing persons. I figured you could hang around here for a while and see what dirt you can dig up." Bobby shuffled some papers, sticking them inside a file folder and plopping it down to where it faced Garrett and I.
"A weekend at Bobby's." I smiled, taking the folder and heading for the living room.
I looked at my phone, 10:30. A couple of hours had passed, and all I could find was that 2 of the victims shared the same church. I turned on the TV for background noise, and a re-run episode of I Love Lucy was playing. Holy hell...this is still being played? Then again, this TV seemed ancient. I groaned rather loudly, gaining the attention of Garrett, who'd had his face stuck in books this whole time.
"Yes your highness?" He mocked, raising an eyebrow.
"I'm hungry. And bored. And why do people have to die in such bullshit ways?" I closed the laptop lid, stretched, and watched the TV screen.
"Because people like us don't exactly sit well with government forces, and can't be trained in plentiful numbers." Garrett had gone back to his reading, but still spoke to me.
"I need clones." I slumped, now laying on my stomach.
"Skinwalkers, shapeshifters, pick your poison." Bobby retorted, popping a bottle cap off a beer and earning a chuckle from Garrett.
"Will you at least go get me food?" I pleaded, almost whining.
"Rock paper scissors?" Garrett proposed, walking over.
That made me sit up, which didn't make me a happy camper. We did best 2 out of 3, and I lost. I forcefully took the keys from Garrett's hands, and trekked outside to where our car was parked. Sliding into the leather seat, I searched through the center console for a cassette to pop in. I decided on Def Leppard, and thus began my journey for lunch.
As music continued to pour forth from the speakers, I continued to use the steering wheel as a drum pad. Although I'd always been pretty decent at drumming as long as I could remember, I felt exceptionally sucky today. Coming to a stop at a light, a drum solo broke out and I went to town on that steering wheel. Making the cymbal hit noises with my mouth, as well as occasional guitar, it was no wonder I got weird looks from the car next to me. Not paying half attention, I gave them a nod and drove forward as the light turned green.
My stop was on the left, so I got over another lane and turned to my destination, a collection of outdoor food trucks. Scattered plastic/wooden table and bench sets littered the area. I'd come here a lot when Bobby was raising me, so I knew almost everyone who ran a place. Going over to my favorite taco truck, I ordered 2 of what I normally get, and one of Garrett's specific order. As I sat down, I felt myself approached by 2 bodies.
"Excuse me, Miss. May we sit with you?" The shorter, more built brown haired man asked.
"I suppose." I responded, finishing the food I had in my mouth.
"We noticed you jammin out at that stoplight earlier. Def Leppard, nice." As the boys sat down, I had an eerie feeling.
"And when you left Bobby Singer's house." The taller, longer haired brown man responded.
"Can you get to the point? I'm hungry." I annoyingly stated, setting my taco down.
"May we ask your relationship with Bobby? How do you two know each other?" The shorter haired one was starting to irk me.
"Who wants to know?" Before I let them answer, my phone rang.
Garrett had just informed me that they had a huge lead on the case. I threw the leftover food in a plastic bag, bolting for the car. The 2 men followed me, even driving behind. Now, I don't get scared often, if at all. But this situation I'd stumbled into, had me terrified. I pressed a little harder on the gas petal, sharply turning into Bobby's driveway. I grabbed the food, slammed the car door, and bolted inside. Bobby and Garrett were enjoying some drinks at his kitchen table, jammering about who knows what.
"What the hell, Isabella? You look like you've seen something." And with that comment, I scarcely walked over to Garrett just as the 2 men entered the house.
"Bobby, who are these people?" The taller one asked, closing the door.
"Friends. Like you two." Bobby scoffed, setting his bottle down and walking in between us.
"Whatever your connection may be, you scared her." Garrett was starting to get annoyed, as he did with anyone who caused me any type of harm or distress.
"Well we're sorry, hotshot. But we need to know exactly how this whole circle comes together!" The shorter one screamed, making a circle gesture with his finger at Garrett and I.
No words were said for what seemed like an eternity. Bobby took turns glancing at each of us, and Garrett kept his eyes pinned at no particular person, but gave the illusion as such. Bobby finally groaned aloud, causing us all to relax our stances, and me to stop hiding behind Garrett.
"You're all a bunch of idjits! That's all you're good for!" Bobby screamed, storming off somewhere upstairs.
"I-I'm going to continue working on the case... Garrett, mind sharing with me what you came up with?" I still held onto his arm, as we walked back into the library.
Retrieving the laptop from the library, I began once more lounging on the couch. Garrett sat in his same chair, and pulled out some papers he'd printed involving the case.
"So get this," he began. "aside from 2 of the victims going to the same church, they both went to the confession booth the same day, within a few hours of each other." Garrett flipped to another paper.
"And? That doesn't seem too strange." I closed the laptop lid for the time being.
"Both of them were admitted to the hospital with extreme fevers and get this... hallucinations." Garrett seemed fascinated with anything that had to do with sick people and churches, which was odd.
"Now, that does seem strange." I admitted, pulling my glasses from my jacket pocket and sliding them on my face to read better.
After I'd scanned over the evidence that he'd found, I walked back into the kitchen to retrieve the bag of food I'd brought. Those two men were in there, mumbling to each other and casting me awkward glances every now and then. Part of me wondered what they were discussing, but I pushed those curiosities aside and threw the bag with its remaining food at Garrett, who cast me a 'what the hell?' look. I made my way back into the kitchen, deciding to eat in there. Hopping up on the counter, I began eating my remaining burrito.
Those two, yet again, kept staring at me. I finally gave up on waiting and walked over to their table. Whether they liked it or not, I was getting some answers as to why they were being creepy jerks.
"Hello, boys." I stated, putting my hands on my hips.
"Can I help you, Miss...?" The more built man responded.
"Halvar." I simply stated, not giving my first name.
"Well, Miss Halvar... what can we do for you?" He smiled, turning to me while the other kept staring outside the kitchen window.
"I want to know why you followed me out today, and so rudely demanded you know my connection with Bobby. It was very... oh, how would I say it..." I tapped my chin, looking for a word.
"Off-putting." Garrett rested himself on the large open frame that lead to where we all were. I nodded in response, turning back to the pair in front of me.
"Well, you see, I'm Dean. And this is my brother Sam." Dean gestured to his brother, who slowly turned to face me.
"Did you say your name was Halvar?" Sam hastily asked, looking at me with puppy-dog eyes.
"It's my last, yes..." I furrowed my brows questioningly.
"Sorry... I used to know someone who had that last name. I thought you were her." Sam got up, promptly leaving the dining area.
"Excuse me." Dean added, following after his brother.
Bobby had given Garrett and I permission to stay the night, so we could finish researching before we headed out. For some reason, Dean had requested on rooming with Garrett, so I roomed with Sam. It didn't bother me at all, I just found it peculiar. There were 2 twin beds, each facing each other with a window and nightstand in the middle. The aged lace curtains hung on seldomly to the metal rod that kept them suspended in front of the glass panes. I took the left bed, and Sam the right.
As I dropped down the bag I'd brought in from the car, I began unpacking my small stuff. Pajamas, spray, hairbrush, phone charger, laptop charger, book, and a booklight. Oh, also a change of clothes. Sam kicked his shoes off and laid down on the bed, facing the ceiling.
"Feels like a god damn motel in here." I scoffed, attempting to start conversation.
"You've been hunting before, haven't you?" Sam responded, turning on the lamp on the nightstand.
"Lots of times. About 6 years' worth of hunting things." I sat my emptied bag on the ground, grabbing my pajamas and heading into the bathroom to change.
Sam whispered something else under his breath, which was inaudible to me as I shut the door to the small bathroom. Taking off my layers, I traced a finger over the scar I'd gotten all those years ago, saving Garrett from the demons. According to the doctor, a cut like that should've killed me in a matter of minutes. But, it healed miraculously without any complications. Once I'd put on my lavender long sleeve shirt and pants, I trudged back into the bedroom and shut the door.
Once I got everything cleaned up, I crawled under the covers and picked up my book and light. Sam turned off the lamp, and rolled over to sleep. I'd gotten myself wrapped up in reading more lore, this time about creatures no one had ever really heard of; even hunters thought them nonexistent. The Arachne were a peculiar species of monster, but I found them interesting. Once the yawns had overtaken me, I set my book and light down on the stand, pulling the dusty-smelling covers up to my nose, falling into sleep.
"Come on, Izzy. You can't be that scared." Sam had his arm extended almost halfway across this log, covering a stream near the top of a mountain. I would've had no problem crossing, except that this nice little stream turned into a lengthy waterfall OFF the mountain. "Dammit, Sam! I can't!" I pleaded, taking more steps back. Sam liked to take me on his idea of 'dates' quite often. This time, we'd gone hiking. I took a deep breath, and closed my eyes. Opening them back up, I was midway on the log over the water. I started to panic, which made me stumble, and I started to fall. Sam gripped my arm, twirling me forwards to where I fell, landing on him. "See, not so bad, right?" He chuckled, helping me up and wiping the tears away from my cheek. Sam. Sam Winchester.
"Sam!" I exclaimed, bolting up in my bed.
"W-What? What's wrong? Are you alright?" Sam rushed over, sitting on the edge of my bed.
I sat there panting, trying to recollect the dream I'd just had. Sam? Was this the Sam Winchester? As I'd regained my breath, I stared at the brown haired boy, looking on to me with concern as the moon illuminated faintly the outline of his face.
"You're... You're Sam Winchester." I whispered.
"Yeah? What about me?" Sam looked more confused, tilting his head to the side.
"I remember you now. I'm Isabella." I forced a half-smile, placing my palm on his face.