Chapter 14

Brooklyn

Comfort, that's what I found when I sat on a Motel bed, put my feet up and drank a beer as I read the Winchester's journal. It held so much information in it, bringing me up to date with the creatures of the night.

Dean sat at the end of my Motel bed, sorting out his bags. He had a pile of clean clothes folded on the bed. The dirty ones were already taken by Sam to get washed at a Laundry Mat near-by.

Weapons sat on the other side of Dean, while a small trash can was slowly filling up with old wrappers, papers, and other things.

If it wasn't for me complaining about the smell, Dean never would have cleaned out his bag. As I watched him, I was quickly realizing why it smelt like rotten food.

"Oh man," Dean said, grabbing my attention from the journal.

"What?" I asked, setting the journal down and crawling over next to him. A small photo sat in his hand, his eyes looking it over with an emotion mixed with happiness and sadness.

The picture was a black and white, wallet size picture of a man holding a bat next to a young boy holding a mitt. They were both smiling, the happiness in their eyes.

Looking at the young boy, I couldn't help but think it looked like Dean. This rose the question, "Is that you with your dad?"

Dean smiled, seeming to like my question. "No, it's my dad with his dad, Henry."

"Your grandfather," I said, putting it together in my head. He nodded, his eyes getting lost in the picture again. "You look like him," I said, crossing my legs under me as I got comfortable next to Dean.

"Yeah. Apparently Cupid himself busted ass to get my Mom and Dad together. They were "Meant to be" I guess."

I scuffed, "Remind you of someone," I said, making his eyes look at me. In that moment, I realized that maybe it wasn't just by chance that he was meant to be with someone. Maybe all of his family members have that future. If his parents were like that, and now him, then who's to say someone else in the family hasn't been too?

Snapping back to reality, I cleared my throat, looking away which made Dean do the same.

Sitting the picture down, he opened up a zipper, revealing a small box, the size of his hand. It was a gold like color, clearly antic. Dean seemed surprised to find it tucked away in a hidden zipper, pulling it out and looking it over.

"Man, I could have sworn we buried this with our grandfather."

I looked at him confused, wondering if the job finally got to him and he went crazy on me. He turned, catching my look and shaking his head, "Time traveling stuff. Long story."

Great, there's time traveling, now?

"What is it?" I asked, turning the question on its side. His eyes went back to the box, "It's supposed to be a key to some Bunker. Apparently our entire bloodline is part of a thing called the Men of Letters. Their like Hunter's, but more "controlled"."

Already, I could tell Dean didn't like the whole "Men of Letters" thing. But it was cool to hear about it.

My bloodline wasn't anything until just recently, when I became a Hunter.

I looked at the box, studding the pattern on it. "Wonder what the chances are that, that place is still standing," I said, thinking out loud. My words seemed to make Dean look straight ahead, pulling his eyes together in a thought.

"What?" I asked, making him turn and look at me. "I'm willing to take that chance if you are," He said, making me smile.

So in.

Dean and I packed up our stuff, waiting until Sam returned before filling him in on the plain. He seemed to be like Dean and think that they buried the thing, but it sitting in Dean's hand proved otherwise.

Sam packed his things, seeming to be up for the idea.

We climbed into the car, Dean searching through some little cards before smiling, "Ah ha. Found it. Thank you Grandpa Henry," Dean said with a smile before starting the car. Sam laughed in the passenger seat while I chuckled in the back, ready to start the ride.

It was nice to take a break every once in a while from the Hunting and just look for something for ourselves.

For all we knew the Bunker could be gone to rubble or still standing strong. It could be full of people or rat-less. We had no idea. Which made it more exciting.

Dean followed the address that sat in the little note card, seeming to grow more and more excited with every passing hour. When we passed the sign that said Lebanon, Kansas, I started to realize how outskirts this place really was.

A dirt road with nothing but trees on either side of it, lead us to an abandon building. The Bunker was a tall, two story building. The entrance, built into a small bank.

This was the type of place that I'd pass as a kid and want nothing more than to go inside of it.

Parking the car, we climbed out, looking over the large building. A large metal door lead the way inside, making it hard for anyone or anything to get inside of it.

"When's the last time somebody was in this place?" I asked, looking at Dean and Sam. Sam made a face, shrugging, "Sixty-five, seventy years ago."

We all looked back at the bunker, Dean being the first to look away. He pulled out the box from his pocket, opening the top part before sliding the other end of it out. A key with a symbol similar to our tattoos sat on the end of the key.

Taking the short flight of steps to the door, Dean pushed the key into the little hole, clicking it open. We all looked at each other before Dean opened the door.

Darkness.

Dean, Sam, and I pulled out flashlights, making our way inside. Another pair of stairs sat before us, leading us to another metal door. We opened that one, raveling darkness again.

A railing sat before us, making the three of us walk towards it and look down. A pair of stairs sat towards the right of us, leading to the level below us. A 1950s-style communications equipment was the first thing scene, making Dean curse, "Son of a bitch."

"Look at this. Ham radio, telegraph, switchboard. This was their nerve center."

Dean and I found ourselves walking over to a small table near the stair case. "Henry did say that they ran dispatch on their own team of hunters." He shines his flashlight on a table containing a chess board, ashtray, glass and a dirty coffee cup. "Wow. Halfway through their coffee and a game of chess. Looks like whoever was manning the hub left quick."

My own flashlight looked it over, my hand reaching over and picking up one of the chess pieces. I place it in another spot, looking up at Dean as I say, "Check mate." He looked back at the board before nodding in approval.

We turned away from the small table, Dean making his way over to a switch box while Sam and I descended the stairs. I heard the switch box open before there was a click. Lights came on above us, lighting up the room like it was day light. He switch two more, bringing light to the place.

"Son of a bitch," I said, copying Dean's passed words at the sight.

An attractively furnished room with large wooden tables sat in the middle of the room sat before us. Bookshelves sat over polished wooden floors on the sides, giving the place a library type feel.

Dean joined us, smiling from ear to ear as he said, "I think we just found the Bat Cave."

I clicked off my light, smiling as I was the first to take a step into the room. It equaled out to two rooms, the back one colliding against another wall. "Bet you the first pick that behind that doorway is hallways of rooms," I said, pointing to a door ahead of me.

My head turned to Dean, his doing the same. We both looked at each other, a smile on our faces as he clicked off his light. That was the gunshot, pushing Dean and I pass the tables and towards the door in a sprint.

Sam chuckled behind us, staying still as Dean and I raced towards the door. I reached it first, swinging it open to reveal a hallway going both ways. Sure enough, doors scattered each side of it, making me throw my hands up and yell, "And Myer's strikes again!"

Dean waved his finger at me, walking passed me and over to the first door to our right. "Now, now. We don't know for sure if these our bedrooms. Could be training rooms or something like that."

I followed Dean, standing on the other end of the door, crossing my arms. "You just hate being wrong, Dean. But it's okay, we all have our days. Some are just more than others."

Dean's mouth dropped slightly, my words catching him off guard. But even he smirked through it, lowering his hand to the door knob and opening it.

Sure enough, a bedroom.

Smirking, I looked at Dean whose smirk slowly faded. I laughed, patting his chest, "Better luck tomorrow, Winchester."

I turned around, joining Sam back into the study room. He looked at the books, seeming to geek out at the sights of them.

Passing by, I said, "So, we're moving in, right?"

Sam smiled, chuckling lightly as his eyes looked around, "Yeah. I think we can stay here."

Part of me couldn't contain my excitement, jumping with joy slightly before turning to the stairs. I climbed them, opening the metal door and making my way towards the outside door. The sun was getting ready to set, bringing a dark, orangey glow to everything.

I made my way over to the impala, popping open the back before grabbing the bags. Despite them not saying anything, I ended up grabbing Sam and Dean's as well, leaving the weapons bag.

The feeling of someone watching me made me stand up straight, lay the bags down, and reach for my gun.

My eyes fixed themselves on the woods near me, looking for the source of this uncomfortable feeling. Though nothing stood out to me, I kept myself on guard as I grabbed the bags once again. My head went back to the woods one more time before closing the trunk and heading back to the Bunker.

That was weird.

Making my way back inside, I sat the bags down, grabbing Sam and Dean's attention. "Brothers, your bags, and if I recall correctly I get first pick of the room," I said, grabbing my bag and lifting it off the table.

Sam smirked slightly while Dean watched as I passed by him, making my way through the door and into the hallway.

All of these doors can't be bedrooms, so I stuck to the ones closest to the door. Deciding that I didn't want to hear Dean or Sam get up in the middle of the night, I decided to make myself at home in the third bedroom down.

My hand grabbed the nob, turning it before opening the door. Just like the last one, it was a medium size room, the bed clearly only able to hold one, maybe two people.

Above the bed sat a shelf, stretching the length of the wall. To the left of the bed, sat a small table, holding a lamp and a few books. A dresser sat against the other wall, leaving room for the door to open and close. To the right, against the other wall, sat a desk, a small table with drawers which held a record player, and an extra chair.

The room itself looked ancient, clearly made for only one person. Either way, it was a room. A private room.

I walked in, sitting my bag down on the bed before looking around. My hands looked through the books on the side table, the top one reading "Forbidden Spells" while the bottom one read "Vampires and Werewolves".

Talk about a wide majority or reading.

Making my way over to the desk, I only found a few papers laying on top, none of them making any sense to me. Opening the top drawer, I found more personal items. Mostly pictures, a small box, and what looked to be a journal. The bottom drawer held only records.

Clearly the last person that staid in this room left in a hurry.

My hand found its way to my necklace, playing with it as I flipped through the records. Most of the music was things I had never heard of, leaving only one or two recognizable to me.

"Well, I see your room isn't much different," I heard Dean's voice said, making me look up. His hands stuck themselves in his jean pockets, his jacket off. His eyes traced around my room as he took a couple of steps inside.

I smiled slightly, dropping my necklace and closing the drawers, "Clearly they didn't have much taste either." My butt leaned against the desk, my arms crossing over my chest as my eyes followed Dean around my room.

"Where's Sam?" I asked as Dean walked over to the side table, looking through the books.

"Oh, you know Sammy. Geeking out of the hundreds of books he found," Dean mumbled, closing the book. I nodded, figuring as much.

Dean made his way over to me, his hands out of his pockets now. "I was going to go looking around, want to join me?"

Though I debated it, I didn't have much of a choice since the word, "Sure" ran out of my mouth. Part of me wanted to take it back and say that I needed to unpack. The truth was, there wasn't much to unpack.

When you're Hunters, you tend to lose the sentimental touch items. If you still had some, then they were small. For Dean and Sam it was mostly their dad's journal, easy to stick into a bag last minute. For me, it was the necklace Dean gave me, and it always sat on my neck.

Small items.

But, for Dean, his car was the only big sentimental item that he still managed to keep and not damage. If he did, he'd just fix it back up again.

I swear, the car's going to outlast us.

Dean and I followed in suit as we made our way out of my room and back into the hallway. We made our way around, opening every door to find more bedrooms. The way the hallways stretched and turned, made you think you might get lost, but before you knew it you were finding yourself near the beginning again.

We came across an exercise room, one that contained most punching bags, weights, and bikes. Down a couple of doors sat a kitchen, clearly big enough to hold the people it may need.

I made a mental note to grab some supplies for it.

Continuing on, we came across another door, opening it to find a pair of stairs going down.

"Basement, cool," Dean said before jogging his way down. When his shoes hit the bottom, all I could hear was, "Oh, yeah! Now this is what I'm talking about!"

Quickly, I rushed down the stairs, ending up right next to Dean to find what he was looking at. A shooting set up was spread out, leaving untouched targets at one end and cubbies for the shooters at the other.

With Dean, I could see this ending up to be some kind of game room. Maybe even laser tag with a small golfing side.

Dean walked over to one of the cubbies, pulling out his gun before holding it up and aiming it at the paper target. He concentrated before shooting it, the perfectly hit shot scene by anyone. But what shocked me more was how the gunshot, though in a sealed room, didn't radiate off the walls.

This place was defiantly something.

"Hey, Earth to Myers," Dean said, snapping me away from my aw of the room. I looked back at Dean, a smile on his face as he held out his gun, "Your up."

A laugh left my lips as I walked over, taking Dean's gun in my hand before squeezing in front of him. One wrong move and my butt would end up right in front of his.

I aimed the gun, following it all the way to the once hit target. A bullet hole sat in the head of the paper, leaving the rest of the body bare. My breathe sucked in, holding it for a three second count before releasing it. I pulled the trigger, hearing the sound of the gun as it swam through the air, into the target's neck.

It wasn't thee head, but to me it was still a good shot.

Smiling wide, I sat the gun down and turned around, forgetting how close I was to Dean. My eyes immediately looked into Dean's, his own eyes matching mine like magnets. In one little catch of the eyes, I felt like I was frozen. Dean's eyes working on me like Medusa's would.

His eyes would capture me, taking me to a different world where everything around us would vanish and all that was left was him and I.

It was a curse and a blessing.

My mouth dropped slightly when I felt Dean's breath on my face, his own body fixed in its spot.

We staid like this for at least two minutes before my voice came out, shaky and nervous. "We should, go do something, else," I said, pausing a few times. My voice came out like a whisper, leaving no room for many to hear it.

Dean didn't reply, didn't have a smart ass comment, didn't make any type of word or noise.

I blinked, tarring my eyes away from Dean, disconnecting the magnetic spark. My body quickly slipped past Dean, my eyes afraid to look at him. I quickly made my way back up the stairs, down the hallways before returning to my room. My back pushed the door close as I closed my eyes, sucking in a breath.

Before I could comprehend another thought or movement, the sound of angel wings flapping was heard. At first, I wondered if it was Castiel, but since we haven't seen him in a few weeks, minus when he saved me, I thought otherwise. Sure enough, opening my eyes, I realized it wasn't Castiel but Rose.

"What do you want Rose?" I asked with a groan, not really wanting to deal with her right now.

"I'm here to tell you something," She said, her voice emotionless. Sure, Cas didn't exactly sound excited every time he talked, but he didn't sound so robotic anymore.

I pushed myself off the door, walking passed Rose and over to my bag, starting to unpack. "Yeah, well, right now I don't want to talk to you."

"You can love him," Rose said, making me stop unpacking, look at the blank wall ahead of me, and sigh. "What are you talking about now?"

Rose moved so she was beside my bed, in my eyesight. "You can love him, Dean. You choose not to. Why is that?"

Though I wouldn't be surprised if Rose knew, I still felt obligated to say why. My eyes glared over at the angel, my mind debating on what to say next. A minute of silence passed before I sighed and looked at the ground, "I'm scared."

"Of Dean?"

"No, no, of course not," I said, shaking my head as I looked at her. "I'm scared of what he does to me, and what I do to him. I know if we started something, it might end and if it ends then I go. Head first, right back into Hell. And I'm doing that, I'm not going back there. You can't end something that hasn't started."

Rose took a small step, barely noticeable, "But it has. It started the second you and he laid eyes on each other in Purgatory. There is a reason you two are meant to be. You are meant to be the anchor that holds him to the ground. And he is meant to be the knife that lets you fly. You two are make each other stronger, smarter, and better people. Don't let fear stand in the way of that. Because that is what will end you."

Though Rose barley held any emotion in her voice as she talked, her words still hit me hard.

Part of me wanted to fight back with her, to come up with something else but before I could open my mouth, she was gone. Figures.

Sighing, I finished unpacking my room, leaving some of the old items from the owner in. The rest, was thrown into a box and shoved under the bed, waiting to be looked through or returned.

Deciding to see what was up with Sam, I left my room and headed back to the main entrance. To no surprise, Sam had already pulled out a butt load of books, spreading them across the table, and writing things down. He looked so concentrated that I wonder how he could relax through this.

"Find anything interesting?" I asked, walking in and making my way over to the seat kitty-corner from him. My hand flipped through a book as he talked, "Yeah. Some of the things in these books are answers to a lot of questions we have. There's bullet making for all kinds of creatures, spells, you name it, it's in here."

I hummed in response, not finding it that interesting in the moment. Ask me when we need it, and it'll be a different story.

Suddenly Dean walked into the room. His outfit had changed and his hair looked damp, grabbing my attention.

"The shower pressure here, is awesome," Dean said, giving it double thumbs up. He made his way over to the table, Sam getting up and walking over to a drawer. "What're you doing?"

Sam replies as he sits down and starts writing, barley looking at him, "I'm making a card entry. Adding things from Dad's journal and our own witnesses to our new collection."

Dean nods, looking around the room as he says, "So, uh, what? You're a Man of Letters now? Is that it?" The way Dean was asking left the door of if he liked that or not, wide open.

I watched as Dean found a decanter on one of the bookshelves looking to be full of scotch. He pauses, grabbing it and smelling it before nodding in approval. He grabs three glasses, looking over to Sam who is now watching him too. He takes that as an answer, "Good."

After pouring the three glasses, Dean grabbed them, walking over to the table and setting one down in front of Sam. Sam looks up at his older brother, seeming to debate whether he was being serious or not.

Dean takes the seat next to him, his eyes meeting mine as he hands me my own drink. I look at him for a minute before my eyes shift to the drink. I take it, holding it tightly in my hand.

I watch as Dean puts his feet up on the table, pushing some of the books out of the way. He tilts his glass towards Sam who does the same. Once again, Dean's eyes find mine, his glass tilting towards me. Mine slightly does the same before taking a swig of it.

The oldest Winchester's eyes stay on me as he takes his own swig, neither one saying another word.

Let me know what you think of these "Chapters From My Mind". Do you want more of them? Let me know in the comments!