“Heard the Winchesters are back at it again.” Says a gruff voice.
“Now who the fuck ya’ hear that from, Dennis?” Scoffs another.
“Don’t doubt it, sun disappearing had those freaks’ fingerprints all over it.” Joins the noise.
“Jody.” Dennis answers, his beer glass seeping wet into the worn bar table. “She mentioned ‘em offhand in conversation- loves those boys like they’re her own.”
“God- I don’t know how she can even look at ‘em…” scoffs the second voice.
“What do you mean?” Mary asks, turning around in her chair to face the table. Naturally, they’re a group of scruffy, big-boned hunters, with many a scar and story.
They blink at her for a moment before gathering their bearings. “Uh- well,” starts one of them, “e’rybody knows the Winchesters; can’t stay dead, can’t be beat. Favourite-kid treatment from angels, demons, gods, witches… incestuous fuckin’ freaks, too.” He shrugs. The room’s silent.
“Nah, man, we don’t know that-“ scolds another. “It’s just-“ he tries to placate, “one dies, the other’s quick to follow- or tear the universe apart to fix it. I knew their daddy- real brute that guy- they’d stumble in, lil’ Sam with a black eye, John already drunk, and you’d see this look on Dean’s face. Like he’d slaughter the whole room in a second if Sam so much as sniffled. Still got those wild eyes on ‘im when i saw the guy back in ‘14.”
“We do- Steve said he saw ‘em kissin’ a while back. Recognised that damn car and saw ‘em goin’ at it on the backseat.” One argues.
“Oh, shut up, man, Steve’s so full of shit.” Dennis cuts in, smacking the speaker upside and jostling his beer to splash on the table.
Mary thinks she’ll spend a bit more time away before she goes home to her boys.
