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“It’s been over a year Sera; you have to get back out there eventually.” Robyn lectured as she neatly folded in the sleeves on a red cardigan.
“I know! I know.” I ran my fingers through my freshly dyed hair, “But I don’t really want to.”
“Not even going on a small hunt? It’s not like I’m asking you to start dating again for crying out loud!” She threw the top with the others on the display.
Robyn had opened her own shop about six months after everything happened in Kansas. We now own a small apartment together just outside of Vancouver. Moving from the United States to Canada was a major change, but one that was much needed. This new life is still very new to us, we adjust fast given our typical lifestyle however, anyone would have trouble starting over completely. No one has ever been able to escape hunting, Robyn included. Although, that doesn’t mean I’m not going to try.
I was able to start a few classes at the local community college and am now a sophomore who also helps around “ Something Wicked ” on the weekdays while interning at movie sets on the weekends. All I really do is run coffee- nothing too exciting, but it’s still a foot in the door. What I really want to do (and what my major focuses on) is acting. Turns out I’m really good at it. The whole thing started as an extracurricular until they cast me as Veronica in their rendition of “ Heathers ”.
“Robyn, there’s no point in trying to be normal if I don’t actually try to be normal !” My hands shot to my hips.
She rolled her eyes, “You have a point, but killing monsters is therapeutic!”
“Says you, Buffy.”
Robyn scoffs, “You know I find shows like that highly offensive. Their portrayal of vampirism is-”
“Undignified and completely off base, I know.” The redhead picks up a shirt, I rip it out of her hands and hit her with it before starting to fold it. “You have told me many, many times.”
My best friend sighs, “I just don’t want you to lose a part of yourself because you're avoiding something.”
“Me? Avoiding? Never!” I say as she hits me with another cardigan.
“Whatever Seraphina, it’s your life.”
Her disappointment stings but not as much as the idea of hunting again. I think I’ll leave that to the professionals, the ones who don’t get the love of their life killed. Although, that isn’t the Winchester brothers either and look where they ended up. Maybe someone does have to keep knuckleheads like those two in line, but that someone is not me. At least not anymore.
After Seth… after he did what he did… well I can’t say I’m particularly thrilled to get back into that world. Even with Robyn nagging me. I know she won’t stop; I know it and yet I can’t. Not yet. I’m not ready. I let everyone down. The world was relying on me. Seth wasn’t supposed to die; I shouldn’t have let him take my place. If he would’ve just told me! Although, if you’re planning to commit suicide to save your girlfriend, I don’t suspect you would tell said girlfriend.
One of the reasons I’m not talking to Dean, Sam, or Cas anytime soon. They knew. They all fucking knew what he was going to do and they let him. They even encouraged it! Didn’t want to lose me, I was too important to lose.
Fuck. That . And them.
Seth died because of them. It was supposed to be me! It was always supposed to be me.
Now every time I look in the goddamn mirror all that stares back is a walking, talking corpse. A shell of a person nowhere to be found. I still have my soul, but it may as well be sealed away in hell.
Another reason why I stopped hunting. The killing, the bloodlust… it only got worse. It seemed destiny didn’t like that I skipped out on its little shit show of a finale, so it punished me. Branded me with a mystical symbol dating back to the beginning of time. Not even Jack knows what it means, ya know now that he’s back on team good guys.
Life sucks. And yet I’m still living it.
Actually, I have a good thing going here. Normal job, mostly normal friends, normal life. Robyn owns her little clothing store (her dream come true) and I am an intern on a movie set during the evenings, while majoring in Drama during the day. Best of both worlds! Most importantly we’re happy. At least mostly happy. Trauma is still banging on our back door, but who’s isn't?
“I’ll see you after work.” I tell Robyn as I walk out the door. Her backs still turned to me, but I know she’s listening. She always does. It’s why she’s my best friend.
She actually is supposed to go on a date tonight, I hope she shows up. The woman’s name is Cara, she’s a beautiful bleach-blonde with mesmerizing blue eyes. If I was working the dating scene right now, I would have gone out with her myself! Alas, I am decidedly, dutifully, annoyingly single. Very frustrating in more ways than one; however, it’s for the best. Everyone I date ends up dead.
Cara is another intern on the set of “ Dutifully Yours ”, a small town rom com based on two struggling artists. The concept is good but anytime Hallmark gets involved you can expect a snooze fest. Just saying.
Anyways, the point is that I’m the one who set the two of them up. I just hope it was worth the effort. Robby deserves to be happy. Even if she’s a royal pain in the ass sometimes.
As my feet carry me down the cracked excuse of a sidewalk it starts to rain. Tiny droplets pitter patter onto the ground and I groan. Not checking the weather for today was a dumb move. The rain starts to pour even harder without an umbrella in sight for me. That’s when a man rounds the corner, he looks at me with a smirk. Perfectly swept back red curls, crisp blue suit, and devastating blue eyes locked on mine. Hiding now would be pointless; the jerk has already spotted me. Which may as well be a death sentence. I do not feel like Dealing with Weston Ambrose today.
“Forget something?” He twists the umbrella in his hands.
I grumble, “No, I just forgot to check the weather.”
“Wanna share?”
His soft chuckle infuriates me! Everything about him does. We’re competing for the same position at work. Right now, the both of us are interns; however, if we do our jobs right one of us may be promoted and become the director's assistant. That would be a major improvement and a massive business opportunity. Whoever becomes his assistant could essentially whisper in his ear about a lot of things. The possibilities are endless!
And Weston knows that just as well as I do. Bastard.
“No, I think I’d rather walk in the rain.”
He tilts his head, “But won’t you melt?”
“Are you equating me to the wicked witch of the west?”
“If the ruby slipper fits.”
I roll my eyes. “Silver slipper.” His eyes widened a fraction. “In the book it’s silver.”
Weston sighs, holding out his hand. “Fine, if you don’t want to walk with me just take the damn umbrella.”
My eyebrows raise skeptically. He has not once offered me a favor since I started working on set with him. Why on earth has he decided to start now? Has he lost his mind or contracted a brain eating parasite? Is this some sort of trick? If he thinks I’m just going to hand him that job then-
“Fine, I’ll keep it then.”
He starts to walk away but I shout, “Wait!”
Damn him. Without an explanation I walk up, steal the umbrella from his hands, and walk away. He doesn’t dare follow me, a smart decision considering the mood I’m in.
I’ve killed people for less.