Body Count

SPN drabble challenge, word: fifteen

Summary: Hunters learn to deal with the consequences and side effects of their line of work. But sometimes it all comes back to haunt them.

A/N: Sorry, got carried away – couldn't stop at a 100 words :)


It's a busy evening. Friday always is. The place is buzzing with people celebrating the coming weekend.

She exchanges banter with the regulars, prepares drinks and secretly watches the stranger at the bar. She's seen her fair share of people trying to drink their trouble away, but none like him. He doesn't react to her attempts to flirt with him, just orders one shot after another, wrapped up in solitude like in a well-worn jacket.

When she's passing by, she hears him muttering to himself, talking with invisible people named Ash, or Jo, or Benny, or Rufus… and sometimes he chuckles and sometimes he cries.

"Maybe he's a war veteran", she thinks. "Maybe it's a bad case of PTSD". And when he lifts his hand she adds another shot glass to the row in front of him, making it fifteen – and they look like gravestones in the dim light.

She's turning away, suppressing the sudden urge to take him in her arms and rock him softly to sleep like an inconsolable child.