Work Text:
Reflection
Sam watched Dean out of the corner of his eyes for the last 100 miles. Dean's hands had banged on the steering wheel every five minutes since they had crossed into Texas in the middle of an autumn heat wave.
“Dean, food break, OK?”
The not-Impala quickly swerved into an almost forsaken parking lot. Dean parked under a sun faded sign shaped like a cactus flower. The diner sat on the outskirts of Nowhere, Texas like a lonely spinster. Sam and Dean crossed crossed the parking lot rapidly seeking relief from the stifling air.
There were only two other patrons, a pair of middle aged sisters, in the diner. The lull between the lunch and dinner rush was in full swing.
The brothers chose their table quickly and snatched at the menus propped up between a battered pair of salt & pepper shakers.
Their waitress, Molly, approached them slowly. The heat had been melted her stamina all shift and now she felt one of her special headaches coming. Things happened when she had those kind of headaches. She called it her “St. Jude gift.” Sometimes she just Knew where lost objects or lost people were.
Molly brought Sam and Dean two glasses of water on her brown cork tray but stopped abruptly before she delivered the glasses. Her head throbbed. She turned her head left and then right as her startled green eyes searched the diner.
Dean took the tray from her shaky hands and laid it on the table. Sam and Dean both looked at her with curiosity.
“Did you hear that?”
Molly cleared her throat. A sensation of breathing water choked her and then as quickly as it had arrived.
“Hear what?” Sam asked quietly.
“A man's voice.”
Both brothers tensed and looked around. There were no other men in the diner. They turned back to Molly.
“Christo.”
Dean spoke quietly to Molly. Her confusion on her face was clear for a second but her attention shifted quickly.
Molly was listening carefully to something only she could hear.
Sam wanted more information. “What's going on? What do you hear now?” Molly ignored him.
“Who are you?” Molly paused to listen.
“A message? Why? Who is the message for?” Silence.
“OK. But I need to know more. Who are you? What do you look like?” Molly quietly listened.
“Haven't you ever looked at yourself in a mirror?” A moment of silence.
“Your brother caused a rainstorm. You got soaked. OK. Remember what you saw then and show me.”
Dean had followed this one sided conversation with both curiosity and alarm. If their waitress was actually communicating with a ghost or supernatural entity they might have a job even before they ordered dinner.
Then. . . Molly seemed to forget to breathe.
Molly's pupils dilated rapidly. Her respiration suddenly increased and she developed a deep flush of color rising from her chest to her face. Dean hid a chuckle, but he was curious what was causing their waitress to be suddenly aroused.
Molly plopped down in the third empty chair at the Winchester's table and drank both glasses of water she brought to the table. She tilted her head one way and then another to openly examine the image shared with her. Molly finally looked away and relayed the message she had been given.
“He says his name is Cas. Please go back to where he died. Right now.”
Sam and Dean shared a long glance but remained silent. Molly, still seated at the brother's table, looked earnestly into both of their faces.
“Please believe me. I can prove who he is. Do you know that he's got a mole on his . . .”
“Yes.” Both brothers replied at the same time.
Dean opened his mouth to ask Sam how he knew about the mole, but no words came out.
Sam broke the silence.
“One chef's salad, two bacon cheeseburgers and one whole apple pie to go. Got to pick up a friend.”