"Ugh, everything hurts!" you complain, arm swung around Dean's neck as he dragged your weary body into the bunker.
Body bruised and battered with a slight nosebleed. Every nerve in your body on edge as if a hasty electric current drifted through it.
It hadn't been a necessarily challenging hunt, just a lone shapeshifter who was mimicking comic-book villains to attract delirious fangirls.
He got to dress up as Batman and everything, ganking the shifter as he played a perfect rendition of the Joker. You had even dressed up as Catwoman and somehow, Dean convinced Sam to try on a Robin suit. Good times.
If only the shifter had been a little kinder with the punches.
"Still complaing, (name)?...you ain't got my back problems!" Dean comically groans, placing his left hand on his back in agony.
"You ain't got any back problems, old man." you teased him back, poking his cheek.
"Cas, back me up here!" he exclaims, looking over his shoulder at the filthy angel who seemed to be completely covered in grime.
Let's just say that he'd have a slippery experience in the sewers, where it seemed that shifters just loved to set their lairs.
Would it kill them to be just a bit hygienic?
"Why? Isn't she correct? You have gotten quite old."
"Damn you angel, you're like a thousand years old!"
"Shut it, both of you!" Sam bellows, "I've got a massive headache and I don't need you idiots making it any worse."
"Bitch." Dean grins manically.
"Jerk." Sam and you retort in unison.
"Dibs on the shower!" you exclaim, ducking under Dean's arm into the bathroom and slamming the door. Behind you the boys bickered:
"So not fair (nickname)!"
"What are dibs? Are they eatable?"
"Shut it Cas."
----------------------------- In the Shower -----------------------------
You slipped off the leather suit, stitched at advantageous bits. Hey, at least it actually covered your ass. Then, you turned on the water at it's highest, the steam already clouding the room.
"Don't use up all the hot water again, (nickname)!" Dean shouts from the other room.
You roll your eyes and slip inside, letting the steaming water slither down your raw flesh. Stinging at first before it soothes it to a numbing sensation. A smile spreads on your lips as you begin to mutter:
"Please allow me to introduce myself
I'm a man of wealth and taste
I've been around for a long, long year
Stole many a man's soul to waste"
You twirl on your soles and begin lathering your hair with a (favorite fruit) lotion, massaging the fruity aroma into your pores. Flipping the slippery bar soap, quickly catching it and then, bringing it to your lips and serenading:
"And I was 'round when Jesus Christ
Had his moment of doubt and pain
Made damn sure that Pilate
Washed his hands and sealed his fate"
“Is she…is that The Rolling Stones?” Dean ponders to his brother, disbelief ringing clear in his throat.
"Pleased to meet you
Hope you guess my name
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game"
The bar soap glissades from your hand, leaving it covered in creamy bubbles. Flicking your wet hair back and forth, as the shampoo slithers down your dainty locks.
“I didn’t know she could sing?” Sam sounds absolutely perplexed, then adds "She's not bad though..."
"I stuck around St. Petersburg
When I saw it was a time for a change
Killed the czar and his ministers
Anastasia screamed in vain"
"I'm pretty sure she didn't kill the Czar, she hadn't even been conceived at the time." Castiel grumbles.
"Cas, it's a song. What she's saying she hasn't necessarily done," Sam explains and Dean chuckles in contempt.
"So we don't have to guess her name?"
"Dear god Cas, you know her name!"
"I don't comprehend the need to get my father into this..." he says, like a weeping adolescent.
"I rode a tank
Held a general's rank
When the blitzkrieg raged
And the bodies stank..."
You giggle, what a baby. A baby in a trench-coat that is... With your index figure you begin to etch a devils-trap on the fogged glass, creating translucent flames emerging from the circle. Not that it was necessary, you were showering yourself with holy water but hey! Better safe than sorry. So, they liked your singing? Well...you leaned back and filled your airs with vaporous air then howled:
"I watched with glee
While your kings and queens
Fought for ten decades
For the gods they made
(Woo woo, woo woo)
I shouted out,
Who killed the Kennedys?
When after all
It was you and me"
You swung your arms side to side as you cried "Who who, who who". Water splashing everywhere!
"Sing it, Baby!" Dean hollered.
"I thought that was my name..." Castiel huffs in annoyance, clearly the little slip in the grime had hurt his ego.
"Darling, you got many names..." his words were so layered with seduction you wondered which room was steaming most.
A slightly throaty sound echoes, Cas always makes it when he blushes. There was barely any conditioner left, so with one final squirt out of the hollowed plastic bottle your threw it aside. You'd bought it in a quick trip to the Dominican Republic, hunting a racist plantation-owning ghost. It stunk artificially of coconut and almonds.
"Just as every cop is a criminal
And all the sinners saints
As heads is tails
Just call me Lucifer
'Cause I'm in need of some restraint
(Who who, who who)"
"Is she singing about my brother?"
"Sorta, well...the songwriter's are, technically..."
"So if you meet me
Have some courtesy
Have some sympathy, and some taste
Use all your well-learned politnesse
Or I'll lay your soul to waste, mm yeah
(Woo woo, woo woo)
Pleased to meet you
Hope you guessed my name, mm yeah
But what's puzzling you
Is the nature of my game, mm mean it, get down
(Woo woo, woo woo)"
"Why is she singing about having Sympathy for Lucifer?” Castiel declares, furious.
"Cause' it's a nice tune, dude. Nothing else..." Dean mellowly says.
You turn off the shower, stepping into a sauna of moister coated walls. The sides peeling already. Slipping into a fluffy white robe, you grab your hair brush and swagger out.
"You alright (name)?" Sam asks you, typing intently into his computer.
"Yeah, just exhausted..."
"Well, how many shows a night are you doing? Three?" Dean taunts you, making you stick your tongue out at him childishly.
----------------------------- In your room -----------------------------
They'd given you the most secluded room in the house, a girl needed her privacy. It was mostly plastered with band posters you had collected over the years, ripped and teared at sides and quickly gaining dust. An old record player that seemed to be constantly spinning was pushed into a corner, surrounded by different vinyl's from Bruce Springsteen to Bon Jovi (which Dean would pester you to play, on occasion). A sanctuary in the madness that was your everyday existence. At least it use to be. As soon as you entered it, you felt an icy presence like a drift of wind sneaking inside from a window, half-shut. In fact it was so subtle, you sorta guessed that it was just that.
But then, your eyes found a figure staring at the wall solemnly.
Dirty blonde hair and slight peelings on his temples.
"Hey honey, feeling sympathetic?"