Chapter Text
John’s hair was soft. Softer than Carlos had originally anticipated but delightfully so. Not as soft as Lata’s hair but much softer than Mary’s. He wasn’t sure when him playing with their hair became a thing, but it had certainly become a thing. His favorite activity in the car was sitting behind whoever was driving and giving them a little head massage, or braiding Lata’s hair, or running his fingers through John’s truly incredible head of hair.
This was how he found himself at 4 pm on a Thursday when it happened. Laying on the bed, above John who was sitting cross-legged on the floor teaching Lata how to clean a pistol. His fingers were weaving their way through the roots when Mary all but kicked the door to their motel room open, flushed and seemingly fresh from a fight.
The action was immediate. He literally felt John’s attention snap to Mary, like she was his platoon leader coming to give them orders. Lata nearly fell over trying to twist herself to face the doorway, pistol taken apart and abandoned between them on the floor. Carlos was the only one who did not move. His eyes lazily slid to Mary’s, looking just uninterested enough for her to know it wasn’t the case.
The energy in the room was… weird. They were waiting for her to explain herself and she was trying to catch her breath.
“I got them.” She breathed, a smile spreading slowly across her face. “I fucking got them.” She extended her hand far enough out for them all to see 4 tickets, Led Zeppelin, Baltimore, in 4 days. “Nearly had to fight some dude who thought he could get in front of me, but I scared him–” Before she could finish John and Lata were both enveloping her in a hug, smiles on their faces, bouncing up and down. Carlos sat up on the bed and looked at his friends, he took a mental snapshot of this moment before rolling his eyes and crossing over to them. For a moment they feel like just a group of friends, not hunters, not far-too-young adults who face down nightly horrors that would make most people break down.
–
It had actually been Lata’s suggestion. They had been hard on the trail of Samuel and the Akrida, and non-stop hunting for months. A werewolf had brought them to Maryland and Lata had seen the ad in the paper. It took a little convincing, Carlos had been in immediately, Mary was easy to sway as they were her favorite band, John had been the lone hold out. He had been so gung ho as of late to stay on target. Finally after convincing him the world would still need saving after a little vacation he relented.
They had sent Mary to get the tickets because she, surprisingly, was the most intimidating and most likely to stay on target and not get distracted. Her teachers had told her she was incredibly task oriented.
So for the first time in months they were going to relax. Carlos grabbed the keys and John and took off for the store, coming back with liquor and junk food. Mary and Lata attempted to make the motel look like something other than a place to stay for the night, as they were going to be there for a little bit longer than anticipated. Lata even convinced Mary to put away all weapons, lore books, and notes. For a vacation isn't a vacation unless you actually take a break.
The party, if you can call it that, started simply. They did shots, toasting to Jimmy Page and then another, toasting to Robert Plant. They traded stories of their best hunts, toughest kills, and John contributed a tale or two from Vietnam. Mary told them tales of growing up as a hunter, her first solo hunt, the ghost she took out at 7. Carlos told them more about the interesting people that he met on the road than the monsters he hunted. Lata waxed poetic about the different myths she had studied in the library and how it had blown her mind to find out that they were all true.
After a while John just sat and listened, the whiskey relaxing him. Watching these three beautiful humans who leaned into each other, trusted each other. Trusted him . Lata at some point rested her head on his bicep, he caught himself smiling at the trust, the comfort of such a small simple action. Their circle got smaller, the bottles got lighter, and the world went just a little blurry.
At some point, no one knows when, Carlos began putting on a show, performing his rendition of Zeppelin songs. Lata signing back-up when necessary. Soon coerced Mary and John into singing an especially maudlin version of
Tangerine
with them as they danced around their dingy hotel room before collapsing to sleep. Comfortable, safe, and all just a little in love with each other.