Tragedy Strikes

Tragedy Strikes - Chapter Seven

She had woken first out of the group, she always seemed to be the only one that was up in the mornings, but she made her way into the kitchen that she was getting used to and made a pot of coffee, knowing she could drink it all herself. Looking out the window she could see where little patches of snow had showed up over night, how it had layered her and Dean's cars with a thin blanket of it, and how there was nothing to ruin the innocence of the white layer of snow. Carita smiled as she thought of how peaceful this place could be, when there was not something bad trying to get into the house to kill them. Carita yawned as she poured herself her first cup, going to the fridge to get some milk and pulled out almost all of the contents of the fridge with it.

She could hear Bobby snoring at his desk in his little office, she knew that Dean and Sam would be sleeping on one another on the couch in the living room, but when they all awoke from their slumber, they would be starving. Carita had taken the role of cooking all meals in the house, since she was barley allowed to help with any cases. It had been weeks since they had rescued her from the demon and still she was not allowed to leave the house without someone with her, so Carita rarely left the house now. She took another long sip of the coffee, letting it slide down her throat before she pulled her hair into a bun on the back of her head and got to work making a meal for a small but effective army.

She never thought that three men could possibly eat so much, since she had grown up with just her mother, she really never got to know how much men could really eat when they had the chance. Sam, Dean, and Bobby could go through a half a cart of eggs, a package and a half of bacon, and a quarter of a loaf of bread when they were allowed to! Not to mention that Bobby and Dean needed their coffee before anything else in the world while Sam preferred something that had no caffeine in it like orange juice. Carita was just waiting on the toast to pop when there was a knock on the door, a loud one that seemed like it could have shaken the house. Carita looked in to the living room where the two boys were still asleep, same with Bobby in the study. She signed, hopefully it's just someone with a package for Bobby, nothing big, Cartia thought as she pulled a shotgun out of the closest near the kitchen, just in case though, she thought with a smile as she went to the door and looked out.

" Shit." She whispered as she saw who it was.

Daryl. She had completely cut contact once she heard everything that Sam and Dean had to say about him. She could not face him and know the answerers why. Not to face the facts that Dean would most likely try to kill him the moment that she even got close to him. Carita did not want to see him, did not want to know anymore about him. She just wanted to forget him all together. But it is hard to forget someone when they are starting at the front door, knocking loud enough to wake up the whole town that they were in. Carita moved the shotgun to the side of the door to the side where Daryl would not be able to see him as she slowly unlocked the door, taking in a deep breath and opened it, hoping for the best and expecting the worst.

" Carita!" Daryl nearly shouted as he pulled the girl from the door and into his arms, tightly wrapping them around her in a long hug.

" Hi Daryl." She smiled lightly.

" I have been so worried about you Babe, you did not answer your phone calls, texts, nothing. Hell, I was about ready to call the cops and make sure you were still alright, with what happened the last time that I saw you, I thought that it would be best for me to ya know, check up on ya." He smiled lightly, still not letting the girl go. " You are looking a lot better than you did the last time that I saw you."

That's when she first felt odd about herself. She had never seem him without looking proper, unless they had spent the night with one another. Her hair was up in one of the messiest buns that she had ever made in her life and it had not been washed in days because she had run out of shampoo and no one would go to the store with her to get more. She had no trace of makeup anywhere on her zit-ridden face, which was another thing that she needed to get at the store was some Proactive. She was wearing an old Black Sabbath shirt that she had found in Dean's duffel-bag and had taken for her own, some pajama bottoms that were two sized too large for her, and the fact that she was wearing some pink fuzzy slippers that the hospital had given her did not help her case either. She could feel herself blushing as she wrapped her arms around herself lightly as if she was cold.