The rest of the night, was spent with Sam holding onto me and sobbing quietly. We didn't speak much, except for him occasionally whispering my name. That storm I'd heard yesterday morning finally rolled in around 2 am. Rain fell on the roof, creating a peaceful setting. He'd climbed into my bed, laying next to me, his arms around my waist with his hands locked together. I ran my hand over his head, trying to pinpoint why I'd forgotten all about him. The only memory, however, was the fragments of my dream that were still in my mind.
"Izzy... I'm so sorry..." Sam began, sitting up and facing me.
"For what, Sammy?" I questioned, getting up to stretch.
"For dropping contact. For not recognizing you. I just..." I put a finger on his mouth, ceasing his talking.
"There's no need to worry, Sam. Go back to sleep, we have to be up soon." I ruffled his hair, shutting our room door as I walked downstairs.
I found a clock on the wall, and squinted my eyes to try and read it. 4:30 am. I sighed, walking into the kitchen and tossing the fridge door open. I grabbed a Starbucks drink I'd put in there earlier, and popped the tab off. Sitting up on the counter, I admired the silence and chirping crickets from outside. Once I'd finished my drink, I tossed the bottle and went to the bathroom upstairs. Why hadn't Sam remembered me? Once my hand found the light switch and flicked it on, I pretty much figured out why.
In my dream, my hair was a bold ginger colour, with a high ponytail that fell on the rest of my hair. Now, my haircut was a softer, strawberry blonde, but still past my shoulders a tad. Plus, it was knotted and raggedy looking. Splashing some water in my face, I turned out the bathroom light and returned to my room. Sam had fallen asleep, yes... but in my bed. I sighed, shutting the door and scooting him over as much as I could before laying under the covers. Yes, I'm aware that I could've just returned to my bed. But... eh, I'm tired.
"Sam! Other chick! Wake up!" Dean yelled, pounding a fist on the door.
"Ugh... hold on!" I called back. Sometime in the short time I'd been asleep, Sam crawled back over in his bed.
"Sam, wake up. Come on, Sam." I nudged his arm, earning a groan.
"What time is it?" He groggily asked, rolling over and rubbing his eyes.
"It's like 9." I responded, digging some clothes from my bag and heading for the bathroom.
I walked by Garrett on my way to change, and tried to talk to him. He instead walked faster past me, not making eye contact. I furrowed my brows, walking into the bathroom and locking the door. Once I'd taken off my pajamas, I found a soft but noticeable bruise on my collarbone, and one on my arm and chest. Taken aback, I traced a couple fingers over them, only feeling slight pain.
"Hey, Izzy. Bobby wants to see us all downstairs. It's about the case." Sam knocked on the bathroom door.
"Just a moment, I'm still changing." I called back, pulling on my jeans and throwing on a shirt.
Walking downstairs, everyone but Sam was gathered around Bobby's work desk. Dean and Garrett were sitting in the chairs, and Bobby was flipping through a book. I stood behind Garrett, ruffling his hair. I guess he wasn't feeling better, since he pushed my hand away. Backing up, I literally ran into Sam. I nodded nervously in apology, rubbing the back of my neck as we all waited for Bobby to speak.
"Good news, and bad news." He began, looking at us all.
"Good news first!" I suggested, speaking up over everyone.
"Alright then. Good news is, those 4 missing persons in Oregon, are fine. Turns out the 2 admitted to the hospital were just on drugs slipped to them by the priest. The other 2, were found bound in the church's basement." Bobby finished, digging around for another set of papers.
"Wow." Dean stated, laughing under his breath. I glanced over, giving him a chuckle of approval.
"And the bad news?" Garrett asked, his tone harsh.
"Well, grumpy gills, the bad news is that there's a suspected Werewolf case over in Vegas, and it doesn't look too pretty." Bobby finished, handing me the newspaper. Garrett scoffed, folding his arms.
As I flipped through the report on these deaths, I knew that the cops had no idea what a Werewolf was. And if they did, they thought it was something from some dumb movie aimed at low self-esteem teenagers. I folded the newspaper, hopping back upstairs to pack my bag. I plugged my phone in, and began playing music. I was humming and tapping along to a Styx song, when Sam came up, propping himself on the door frame.
"Packing already? We could always head out tomorrow." Sam questioned, walking in the room and sitting on his bed.
"I'm well aware. But, Vegas is a while away. I'd like to head out tonight." I threw my book on Arachne in the bag, turning and facing Sam.
"Hmm, well. I've gotta go by the store tonight and grab food, wanna come?" Sam stood up, starting to walk out the door.
"Sure! When?" I didn't mean to sound as happy as I did, which made him smile.
"Here soon. Dean's coming too if that's alright. You can bring Garrett." I nodded, as Sam and I left the room and walked downstairs.
Everyone was lounging in Bobby's living room, lazily glancing around. Garrett had his eyes glued to his phone, scrolling through whatever. Dean was dozing, outstretched on the couch. Bobby had just walked into the kitchen and opened his fridge. I walked in, clearing my throat, walking over to Garrett.
"Yes?" He asked, rather coldly.
"Sam, Dean, and I are going to the store. Wanna tag along?" I sat on the ground, placing my chin on the armrest of his chair.
"Not particularly interested." He snapped, clicking his phone off and walking away.
"What'd I do..." I whispered, climbing into the chair and sniffling.
"It's alright, Izzy." Sam consoled, patting me on the head.
"Wait... did you just say... Izzy? As in, Isabella?" Dean questioned, immediately hopping up from the couch and walking over.
"Yes, Dean. She's the good ol' original Isabella from when I was in highschool." Sam laughed, barely able to contain his smile.
"Well, I'll be damned! Come on, Isabella! We've got tons of catching up to do!" Dean laughed, grabbing my wrist and throwing me over his shoulder.
All the laughter was contagious. I opened my eyes to find Garrett watching glumly from the staircase. Dean finally let me down, and I smoothed out my shirt. We climbed into the Impala, Sam in shotgun with Dean driving, and me in the back. The smell of leather wove its way through the air, finding its way to my nostrils. I brought the seatbelt over my waist, clicking the metal together so that it was fastened. I sat in the middle, as Dean eyed me in the rear-view mirror. He fired up his car, allowing Motley Crue to blast through the speakers.
Dean kept the windows rolled down as the Impala smoothly rode along the paved streets to the store. I began to get a headache, and placed my face in my palms as images flashed rapidly through my mind.
"Dean, where's dad?" Sam inquired, opening the backseat door.
"He's at home, waiting for us. And who the hell is this?" Dean motioned back to me as I sat in the leather seat.
"I'm Isabella..." I whimpered, not making eye contact.
"Izzy!" Sam yelled, snapping me back to reality.
"Hey, you alright?" Dean called, giving the mirror a glance to see back at me.
"Y-Yeah, I'm fine. Just a headache." I forced a smile, as Dean continued singing along to Kansas.
As we arrived at the store, I unclicked my seatbelt and crawled out. Stretching, Sam came up and poked my sides. Spinning around, I ran after him and latched onto his back, my shirt going up in the back. Sam grabbed ahold of my legs, giving me a piggyback ride. Once we entered through the automatic doors that granted us entrance to the store, I hopped off and grabbed a cart. Sam, Dean, and I strolled through the aisles, throwing stuff in the cart even if it looked remotely interesting. Once we were done getting the main stuff, Sam went off to the bathroom.
I, myself, made my way to the counter with the cigarettes. I didn't think I had a problem, and never really had them more than a pack a month. Dean walked over right as I was handing the cashier my ID.
"Just one pack Miss... Leigsvald?" He raised an eyebrow, but swiped my card and handed me them both back.
"What are you now, German?" Dean asked, smacking my arm.
"I've always been Austrian you dunce." I retorted, going to retrieve the cart I'd placed by the bathrooms.
"You guys ready?" Sam asked, putting his phone away.
I'd climbed into the cart as they were putting the items to be checked out, and had bags placed all around me. I waited patiently as Dean put the bags behind the driver's seat of the impala, slowly giving me more space in the cart. But, Sam got out of the car and lifted me up in his arms bridal style. He danced awkwardly around the immediate area of the car, allowing the lamps to illuminate our surroundings. I was laughing, smiling, enjoying myself. For the life of me, I couldn't figure out why I only had 2 insanely vague memories of Sam, and now Dean.
Once I'd gotten out of Sam's grasp, I crawled into the Impala and sat where I had on the way over. Led Zeppelin came on, and Dean roared the car out of the parking lot and back to Bobby's.
"Night Izzy, night Sam!" Dean yelled from his room across the top floor.
"Night Dean! Goodnight, Garrett!" I called back, but received no response.
"What a day, huh?" Sam laughed, stretching as he laid down on the bed.
"Helluva day." I responded, shutting the room door and going to crawl under my blankets.
Sam and I talked about the new case, and what we thought was causing this so called Werewolf outbreak. We were heading out in the morning, after all. We all had to be up by 4, and out the door by 4:10. As I plugged in my phone, the screen lit up to show that it was charging. I brought the blankets up to my nose, snuggling into the dusty sheets and falling asleep.
I awoke a few hours later to a storm starting up outside. Looking at my phone, I had to turn down the brightness to effectively read the time. 2:13 am. I sighed, crawling out from under my warm blankets and opening the room door. Looking back, Sam was laying on his stomach with his face planted in the pillow, still asleep. Smiling at the sight, I quietly closed the door and tiptoed downstairs. I reached for my leather jacket on the coat rack, knowing my cigarettes were placed inside.
"Isabella? What're you doing up?" I heard someone ask. Turning around, I went to instinctively punch whoever it was in the face, but had my fist caught.
"Garrett, what the hell! You scared me!" I whisper-yelled, taking my hand back.
"Want to know why I've been avoided you all day?" He asked, folding his arms.
"I, uh, suppose so?" It was rather odd, and annoying, how he'd shown no signs to talk all day yesterday.
"The first night we were here, I saw you and Sam cuddled in the same bed. There were clearly two beds, yet you were both in one. Mind explaining that?" Garrett pursed his lips in annoyance.
"W-Well you see, it's like th-" I was interrupted by him grabbing my jacket collar and throwing me behind him.
"Why, Isabella?! After all we've done?!" He yelled, causing me to worry about waking the others up. Garrett came charging at me, but I swung and hit the side of his skull, sending him barreling for the front door we were near.
Garrett caught his footing before impact with the door, and came running at me again. I caught him by the wrists to keep from his hands colliding with me. I had intended on twisting his wrists, but what happened next was not of my planning. I threw Garrett into the walkway that lead to Bobby's workroom, his back impacting with a packed bookshelf. Sam came running down the stairs, grabbing my arms and holding me back. Dean followed suit, as well as Bobby. We all stood there as Garrett lay motionless against the shelf, woodchips and books littering his body.
I looked at my palms, that of which were shaking beyond belief. Garrett had tried to harm me, and I'd somehow mustered the strength to throw him 15 feet, with so much force that he broke a large bookshelf. Looking more at my hands, I noticed the veins running to them were lightly pulsing, a flash of bright blue coursing through.