InsaneJournal

Tessa felt like ten miles of bad road through purgatory. She'd felt that way since waking up human, and promptly pulling a couple of twelve-hour overnight shifts at the hospital. Do her part, Death had said, and daddy's little girl was doing her damnedest. But she hadn't realized getting dumped would be part of it. Now she felt like roadkill on that ten mile stretch through purgatory, and she didn't know why. It wasn't like she had any right to be jealous, or pissed. Did she? At least Dean had bothered to tell her he was getting back together with Cas for good this time, though she didn't believe Cas was any more stable than she was. Not when he threatened to end anyone who so much as raised their voice around either one of his charges. For having gotten back a double portion of his original "grace," the on-again-off-again angel didn't have a whole lot of mercy.

Then again, neither did Tessa. Could she really blame him? Maybe not, but she could wallow. And they could disapprove of her making a spectacle of herself if they wanted. After all, it was the favorite coping mechanism of almost every human she might have considered a friend. "Who needs 'em," she muttered, sinking deeper into the corner booth, willing herself to stay angry just to keep from crying in her drink. They could go screw themselves. And each other. She didn't care. But the bad country music wasn't helping.