The Winchester Chronicles

God I HATE Kansas!  Did I mention that before?  And I hate fairies too - almost as bad as freakin' witches.  With their fairy dust and their little wings and their cutesy little goddamn bells all over the freakin' place.  Did I mention the dust?  So now I look like a reject from a Village People video and my car looks like Cinderella's goddamn pumpkin after a night on the town with Prince Charming.  And if Sammy calls me freakin' Prince freakin' Charming one more time he's gonna be doing a helluva lot more than missing one ball.

Goddamn Kansas.

So where are we off to next, kids?  Californiyay!  Ordinarily, little bit o' sun and a few West Coast Girls and I'd be one happy dude, but today?  Nah, we're not just off to California, but we gotta go to Palo Alto.  Stanford.  First time we've been back there since...well.  Don't know what it's gonna do to Sammy, but he's insistent.  That guy Zach - remember him?  The one I got outta prison by letting the cops think I was a sadistic chick-hating serial killer when the real bad guy was a sadistic chick-hating serial killer shapeshifter?  Needs our help.  Somethin' hinky goin' on out there in Geniusville.  Our kind of hinky.  Says his girlfriend's found some weirdo bones out on an archio archieo arceo goddammit where the hell's the spellcheck on this thing?  Oh hold on.  Archeological.  She's out on an archeological digsite somewhere outside of San Francisco.  I left my heart there once, y'know.  Werewolf got it and wouldn't give it back.  Yeah okay.  Lame.  But.  Y'know.  I got fairy dust in my hair. 

You know if I drive all that way and that skinny chick's there with the guy out of Angel?  I won't be happy.  Although she's a babe.  For a skinny chick.  A smart skinny chick.

Okay well I gotta get the computer in the car before Sammy starts to miss it and thinks I'm lookin' at porn again.  Like I ever look at porn on the internet...
 

I told Dean it was a virus!  But did he listen to me?  No, he had to go off having his version of a panic attack - which as usual in Dean World translates into Random Threats of Violence - this time against a coven of witches.

Still.  Yeah, I was worried about Dad too, I'll admit it.  It's pretty scary growing up with only one parent - especially when that one parent thinks it's his business to face down every evil thing creeping across the face of the planet.  When we were kids...  Well I know it was hard on Dean.  Sometimes he'd just get this look, you know?  Like he was trying so hard not to let on how freaked out he was, and that only made him look even more freaked out.  Of course he had a plan.  Never really talked to me about it until - I guess I was nine or ten.  Some time after Mrs. Vasilyeva anyway.  I think that's what made him decide he needed one.  A plan that is.  I used to watch him at night - when he thought I was asleep.  Used to turn on the flashlight and pore over Dad's map book for hours - memorized every freeway, highway, every road bigger than a dirt track - every route to Blue Earth and South Dakota from every place we ever stayed in.  And he could drive by the time he was thirteen, knew how to hotwire a car by the time he was ten.  I know he'd have gotten us there.  "No more foster homes," he told me once, when Dad had been gone two weeks longer than he'd said he would be.  "Not ever again."

I only really remember Mrs. Vasilyeva, but I know we wound up in some group home somewhere before that.  Guess I'd have been six maybe.  Dad busted us out.  Don't really remember it, only know what Dean's told me.  And he doesn't talk about that kind of stuff much.  All I really remember from '92 is that woman's teeth and how I felt when I thought Dean had taken off without me.  Didn't have the first clue what to do.  Dean was always the one with the plan.  Sometimes when Dad had been gone for days at a time, I remember waking up in the middle of the night and checking Dean was still breathing.  I guess I was scared of being left on my own back then.  God, he'd have called me a little pantywaist if he'd ever caught me!  Come to think of it, he still calls me a little pantywaist...

Still, if I'd remembered anything at all about the Shtriga when we bumped into Mrs. Vasilyeva, I think I'd have been a helluva lot more freaked out than I was.  And I was pretty damned freaked out at the time.

Never did find out what happened to all of the other kids.  I remember Flora's grandparents coming to pick her up from the hospital.  And all the other parents woke up, so I guess everyone was okay.  I know that little girl who Dean managed to get talking - April? - Damnedest thing.  I bumped into her at Stanford - she was studying medicine.  I guess she's a doctor by now.

Anyway, it's over now and we're adults.  Well that's what they tell me.  Not so sure about Dean sometimes...  But at least we don't scare quite as easy. 

Speaking of which, Missouri's here!  She's not threatened Dean with any kitchen utensils yet, but it's only a matter of time.  Dean's been plotting his revenge for her making him clean up Jenny's kitchen back in Lawrence, I'm sure of it.  Even though he pretty much adores her.  Pretends not to, of course, but if I can see it, then I'm pretty damn sure Missouri can!

Okay I better go check how many dead mosquitos my oh-so-grown-up big brother has collected to hide in Dad's bed tonight...  Kids.

So Big Bad John Freakin' Larger Than Life Bad Ass Hunter Winchester got taken out by a mosquito!  A mosquito!  It's hi-freakin'-larious!  I'll be dining out on this for weeks!  Seriously.  The guy's never gonna live this one down!

West Nile Virus.  Jeez.  "Told you it was a virus!"  Yeah Sammy Braniac Know-It-All.  He talks a good game, but he was as scared as I was.

Not that I was scared scared though.  I mean...  It wasn't like '92 after all.  Now that was freakin' scary.  When you're a kid, everything seems a helluva lot more terrifying, especially when your dad's a Monster Slayer and you know there's freakin' bad shit freakin' everywhere just waiting for you.  Just waiting for you brother.  I swear I can still feel that old witch's teeth on my neck even now.  It's just...when you're twelve and your dad and your brother are all you have in the world...  I'd never tell this to Sammy, but when we were kids and he was having nightmares about monsters and demons and things that go bump in the night I was having nightmares about the CPS.  They nearly got us a couple of times when we were kids - and Mrs. Vasilyeva wasn't the only time we ended up in foster care.  But she was definitely the worst.  It sucks only having one parent.  And it sucks ass when that one parent seems hell-bent on getting himself killed.  Every time he left us to go off on a hunt I wondered what the hell I'd do if he didn't come back.  How I'd take care of Sammy.  I knew Bobby or Pastor Jim would be there for us I guess, but once you get put in the system...well sometimes kids get lost, right?

When I was really little I used to wake up in the middle of the night and go check my dad was still breathing.

Jeez, I was such a little pantywaist back then.

Maybe I should delete that.

Nah.  Sam'll never crack this password!

Okay I'm outta here.  I still owe Missouri for making me mop up Jenny's kitchen back in Lawrence.  Some serious karmic payback's awaitin'...

So I convinced Dean to come check out these strange murders, and yeah- I knew from the minute I read the report on Kelli Mattingly that she, like me, had been a pre-law student at the university here.

But contrary to what Dean thinks- it had nothing to do with why I brought us here. I mean sure... the similarities between us are there- but honestly, I'm not saying that just because it looks like some demon may have made her go crazy and kill a bunch of other students, and herself, that it has anything to do with what happened to me.

And yeah, I'll admit that being back on a big campus brought back some memories, good ones and bad ones... God, I miss Jess! And I wont deny that its soooooo tempting to just wanna  walk away from this life and never look back ( I did it before didnt I?).

 

Dean doesnt get it, he thinks my only focus on this hunt is because of the similarities, the chance to hang out at the uni - but he's not the one standing above his brother, digging friggin' buckshot out of his back. I know Dean thinks that nothing can compare to a hunter's life, after all- thats all he's ever known. But doesnt he get that maybe sometimes it would be nice not to live out of a duffle and a trunk, to eat a meal made in your own kitchen and to sleep in a bed that had only ever been slept in by you and not every other hooker and door to door salesman in the lower forty-eight?

Do I miss school? Not so much anymore. That's a life that's dead and gone for me. There's no going back, I know that now.

But damn- it doesnt mean that I enjoy this life a whole lot either.

Dear Diary:

Today I nearly fell off the roof of a moving train.  Nearly got offed by the spirit of a serial killer who died fifty years ago.  Nearly got stabbed and had my eyes gouged out with a ceremonial dagger.  Nearly got thrown into a Hellgate (AGAIN!) 

On the plus side, I met a real-life actor.  And Jay Stringer - yeah THE Jay Stringer.  And I made friends with a cop (every silver lining has a cloud.) 

And - oh yeah - did I mention the train BROKE DOWN on the way back to Richmond?  HUH???  Stuck in the middle of Pennsylvania with nothing but Sam whining about his poor poorly ankle for THREE FREAKIN' HOURS!!

So yeah, Sam actually DID fall off the roof of a moving train.  And he DID kinda save my ass.  Again.  But don't tell him I said that 'cause his head is freakin' big enough already.  I mean seriously.  Why d'you think he grows his hair so friggin' long?  But he kinda did bust up his ankle, so I guess I oughta cut him some slack.  For - like - an hour.

Anyway.  Not much chance of taking any long train rides in the future.  The more alternative forms of transportation I mess with, the more I realize that my baby in black really is the only way to travel.

And I still don't believe Sam EVER rode a Harley-Davidson...

Well that was exciting.  If nothing else, I met a genuine superstar tonight...  Yeah okay, he was just some guy off some crappy TV show on that crappy green network nobody watches but hey - we all gotta start somewhere right?  I actually thought Dean might be a little starstruck - y'know I've caught him watching shows like that before.  Not that he'd admit it of course...  Quickly finds another channel running a documentary on sharks or guns or blowing stuff up and gets all butch and manly on me.

Jeez, I wish there was a TV in the snack car to keep him occupied.  He's driving me crazy.  A bored Dean is an annoying Dean - sometimes it's like trying to keep a toddler amused.

Still, if we carry on at this rate of detection, the body count's gonna start rising pretty soon and then neither of us will get time to be bored...

Think I'm gonna go find Warwick.  There's only so much laptop time I can stand in one night.

Why is it my bro always has to think up some hair-brained scheme that involves some kinda tin can? I shoulda known the minute he mentioned the word train he was gonna want to ride the dang thing! 

And let's not forget, if movies are anything to go by, the good guys usually don't get the best ride on Amtrak, if you know what I mean.

 Even the food sucks. All this hunk of metal has is a tiny  snack car. I was hoping for a full-on restaurant or something. Still, there are plenty of M & M's to go around...

And Warwick - I like that dude. He's down to earth and he's been around long enough to know the lay of the land. I think I'm a pretty good judge of character, and I don't see the guy steering us wrong. 

'Course, given the amount of suspects on this sardine can, and how much we have to go on, this could be a very, very long night. 

Did I mention I hate bridges too?

 

  Anderson or Asmodeus???

Demon or Guardian?

Defender of the amulet or master of lies?

I just don't know what the hell to think anymore. I mean- what the hell.... the dude takes three rounds from a high-powered rifle- has a chest that's sucking air - is dying right before my eyes - and yet... somehow this dude crawls away????

Much less comes back to our room and steals Castor's dagger? 

How can he be anything other than a demon? How else could he have healed from those wounds? I mean- surely the amulet couldnt heal him? Could it????

There just sooo damn much I dont know. How the hell can I embrace this goddamn destiny crap when I have no idea what's going on?

Sammy told me what he learned from Bryan Castor- but still... other than knowing that there's others out there - like me- none of that info helps me for squat...

I have to assume that Anderson wasnt lying when he said Asmodeus was after the pieces of the Sword - but then Castor said not to trust him. But how do I trust what Castor said... I mean- he was killing friggin Guardians for god's sake...

I guess I just have to keep plugging along... meet whoever's after my ass face to face and deal with it as it comes. I'm sure not gonna sit back like some whiny bitch and worry about it. 

SO what if it IS Asmodeus- take a number and stand in line you bastard...

and if there's any other demons ( or humans) out there gunning for a piece of Dean WInchester's ass .... well then- bring it on.  I'm i the mood for a little ass-kicking action...

Well- its good to know that my laptop is still working after finding it on the floor of our ransacked motel room. God knows this thing takes the abuse- but I try to take good care of it... after all - it's our connection to the information highway- not to mention that Dean is usually less than pleased when we have to spend any of his "hard-earned" winnings on computer stuff. 

But really- thats not the point here tonight. I can tell by the look on Dean's face that he's worried - or maybe at the very least- he's being guarded. And who can blame him really... I mean- there's no way that Anderson could have crawled away with those wounds and then managed to come back to the motel and toss our room looking for that damned dagger. 

But if it wasnt him... then who???? 

So yeah- I guess I get why Dean's freaked a little- I 'spose I am too. 

And then there's the whole deal with Bryan Castor... killing his own father- killing all those Guardian's  - the guy was definately messed up and in a way that makes demons almost seem normal.

Dean's worried that somehow he'll end up like Anderson or Castor- but there's no way. If there's one thing I know for sure- its that my brother will NEVER willingly become as dark and evil and misguided as those two. He cares too much...( even if he'd never admit it) to ever let his own needs and desires come before anything or anyone else...

and that's what scares ME the most... knowing how far and how much he'll sacrifice for others...

Can there be anything worse than being trapped in a motel room with Dean? I mean really... I love my brother but its like dealing with a hyperactive toddler that just ate a giant Twizzle Stick... and did I mention how juvenile he can be?

Its bad enough that we arent getting anywhere on this case and to top it all off, the friggin town is about to be flooded. But does my big brother seem to care? Of course not. I swear- I think he'd actually put on a mask and flippers and head out to that cemetary now  - if we had any clue who the hell the spirit is that's causing all the problems. 

So instead, he's sitting here channel surfing - rapid fire channel surfing. 

Oh god... he's found Beavis and Butthead reruns..

Where's a good lightning strike when you need one??? Maybe one just strong enough to knock out the cable or something????

I wish to hell he'd take a look at the Weather Channel... maybe then I can convince him that we need to get out of here before his beloved Impala needs a raft...