she'll cut you and laugh while you bleed
Thought a lot on the drive back to Nebraska about Special Agent dickhead. There was something in his eyes when I had told him about how to cure a were bite victim. He had some sort of haunted look in his eyes that would not stay out of my mind. Maybe someone he cared about had been bit. He made me feel sorry for him is all. He still was annoying and a jerk, but that didn't mean I couldn't feel sorry for him a bit.
Called Sam and left a message for him since he didn't pick up. Told him that I finally got my were and to see how he was. After I had heard from Bobby that his trip to hell was a bust lookin' for Dean I hadn't heard from him. He was probably emoing it up somewhere. Just hope he wasn't goin' in all half cocked like he had been right after Dean died. Sam acted pretty much like he had a death wish for a while after that. Nothing that Bobby, my Mom or me could say to him to help him out any. The more we tried the less he stopped callin'.
As soon as I walked into the door of the Roadhouse my Mom was in on me for details. Had a bruise on my cheek and three long gashes on my right arm from where the were had clawed me. Whenever I got home from a hunt she was always looking me over, yellin' usually while she did it, and then she'd start to patch me up. Just like she did when I was little after takin' a fall from my bike and came in with a skinned knee. She'd gotten over trying to tell me that I couldn't go out on hunts a few years back. After a few times of me not comin' home right away she stopped her nagging. Think that she finally accepted that I was as stubborn as Dad and there was no way that she could keep me from doing it.
Took a shower and then slept for a few hours before headin' out to throw beer and whiskey around. Thought about maybe playing some poker to score some cash for my next hunt. I already had a folder on it ready for me for when I got around to it. It wasn't the kind of case that was needing me to run into it right away since no one was still gettin' hurt. It was a case down in Florida, in the Everglades. People kept saying that it was some sort of giant snake that had attacked people over the years. I thought that more than likely it was a big alligator but you never know. People were scared of going to that part of the swamp since hearing about it. So not too many people did. That's why I wasn't in too big of a rush. That didn't mean that I wasn't going to go though. If somethin' better came along though, I'd go with that.
The bar was pretty crowded as far as the Roadhouse was concerned. Didn't have time yet to take in a game. Not with all of the beer and shooters I've been pouring. I assumed that it'd slow down soon. Just when I thought that though another came in the door. Heard the crowd go all quiet so I turned around from listening to the story Ash was tellin' me and a hunter by the name of Snake. Special Agent Dickhead himself. No wonder why the crowd had gone all quiet. Even though he was dressed in plain clothes most hunters could smell a cop or a fed from a mile away.
Moving over to that side of the bar I smirked at him a little. "You come for more info or did your jaw want another?"