The Winchester Sister (COMPLETED)

Chapter Forty

Asaya's POV

Woah. What was that? Why did all those memories come back? Some of those trips I'd even forgotten about...

I'm still in my bed, still at home. I can hear Evan moving around the house. It still seems to be day outside. My head still hurts, my back still aches, the rest of me feels entirely shitty.

When I look at my clock, it's only a minute later. But I swear, I lived through the entire week of that camping trip, every moment of climbing the sequoias, every second of being buried by John, every game of poker and pool and every other goddamn game John taught me.

I get up, get dressed, do everything I need to do, despite it hurting worse then cutting off my wings. I go into the kitchen, where Ev has bacon and eggs and toast set out on the table. I sit down and smile at the boy.

"Hey!" he says brightly.

"Hey, buddy," I say back. "How're you doing, hmm?" My voice shows no sign of the pain I'm in. That's a trick I have mastered over the years, hiding what I'm feeling from my words. Most people's words, the way they flow out of mouths, the way they're said, pronounced, reveal their feelings like words reveal the happenings of a book.

He sits down next to me, pushing a plate of food towards me. "I'm good. How do you feel?"

"I'm... tired. But other then that, pretty good," I say. I hate lying to him.

'When is Khloe picking us up?" Evan says, surprising me. Oh yeah. I forgot that today we were supposed to see a movie with her.

I consider not going. I really don't feel like going. But it'd be nice to do something as civilian as going to a movie with a friend.

I check my texts. "Umm... around eight, I think. Get dressed." It's seven thirty already.

I'm dressed in clothes, a flannel and my leather jacket and an ACDC tee and jeans and boots and gloves, my usual outfit, but Evan is wearing Game Of Thrones pajamas.

Of course he is.

I text Khloe to make sure she's still coming. She says yes, and a few minutes later I open the door when it rings. As soon as the bell rings, I hear footsteps thudding on the stairs, and a moment later Evan rushes past me and into Khloe's arms.

"Hey kid!" she says. I love Khloe, she's great with Ev. The kid can be a little much sometimes, and she never loses her patience. I've never fully lost my patience, never yelled or hurt Evan, but I've snapped at him a few times. We can never stay mad at each other long though, so we're always good within the hour.

I study her outfit. She doesn't look dressed for the movies, in shorts and a T-shirt with sleeves so short they barely qualify as sleeves. Our theatre is known for being freezing while playing a movie.

In case you're thinking it, no. I already checked the place out, no ghosts. As far as I could find, nothing in this town is supernatural, except for me and Ev. If we even really count, I mean, we're Hunters, so we know the supernatural, but we're also technically just human.

Khloe's driving, which rather bothers me, but I let her drive us. She has a Honda CRV, which is so civilian, no offense to her. It's just, well, I'm used to Hunter cars, trucks or old fashioned cars with big trunks for weapons and the occasional body.

We hop in the car, Khloe driving, me riding shotgun, and Ev in the back. Usually Evan's in shotgun with me driving, but that's in our car, not Khloe's.

I miss my car. My Impala, my fast, ever working car. John brought one Impala. That's Dean's. Mine is from my grandmother on John's side. Yeah, she's still alive. No one knows but me and her. She's like me, has a secret identity that only one other person knows about. She's pretty cool. I've known her for years, since I was out on a hunt one day in this town called... Fairlove? Fairhope? Yeah, Fairhope, Alabama. And I met her, and she said I looked just like her son when he was my age. Same facial expressions, same way of talking. I hate it, being compared to my bio father. But my grandmother realized, and she stopped. She also compared me to my mother, whose parents she was apparently good friends with. Now we're good friends. Her contact is even saved in my phone. Not many people's contacts are. Khloe, my grandma, Evan, Uncle Bobby, despite the fact that he's... well, he can't exactly talk to me, Castiel. Basically, I have five contacts in my phone, but I have thousands of numbers in my head. My dad, my brothers, people from work, hunters from all over America, even several demons. Some of 'em are nice.