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Chapter 2: Answers

It wasn't hard to see the smirk he was trying to hide. "Anyways, my buddy Cas, he was able to heal you up. When Sammy gets back I can tell you more, but for now," he stood up and motioned for you to follow him. "You're probably starving."

A grumble erupted from your stomach at the mention of food and you hung your head in embarrassment. Dean chuckled, never turning to face you. Eventually, the two of you entered a large kitchen. Everything looked old and antique. Dean pulled a stool out for you next to the counter and he began to get ingredients for breakfast.

"Dean, I have a confession," you mumbled.

He immediately stopped what he was doing and glared at you with suspicion.

Definitely hunters, you reiterated, knowing you had better be right.

"My name isn't really Alice Cunningham. That's just one of my many aliases."

The suspicion on Dean's face was slowly dissipating and being replaced by curiosity. It actually shocked you a bit to see him drop his guard. Hunters were always on guard, that is, unless he had the same suspicions about you as you did them.

"My name is Y/F/N. I'm a hunter."

He nearly dropped the whisk he was holding. "That explains the knife this morning," he muttered. "Explain to me why you, as a hunter, are dumb enough to make a deal with a demon?" His voice was raising in anger and you understood why. As a hunter, making deals with demons was dumb. After all the evil you had seen, it was one of the more foolish things you could have done.

"My baby cousin was attacked by werewolves," you whispered.

"Baby?" Dean's eyes looked about ready to pop out of his head. "That's low, even for a werewolf."

"Not exactly baby, he's sixteen. But he's always been my baby cousin. He was hurt real bad, Dean. I couldn't stand by as my last remaining family member died. I did what I had to do." You're tone ended softly, thinking of Becket and wondering what he was doing now. Not only did you bargain for him to live, but you also told Crowley to remove his memories of hunting. After his parents died, you took care of him from that point on. Foolishly, you continued his training in hunting instead of telling him to live a normal life. It was something that you regretted every single day, so you had Crowley take that away from him so he could have a chance at a normal life. His memories were replaced with altered versions of reality. In his memory, his parents died in a crash rather than by a Wendigo.

While he was still unconscious, you left him with an old family friend. His name was Fred and, though he wasn't a hunter, he knew of what your family did. Fred was the best and safest option for Becket. He would be able to keep him safe, you knew that much.

"Hey," Dean said quietly, ripping you out of your somber thoughts. He placed the whisk and bowl on the counter and sat on the stool next to you. "You okay?"

You shot him a look. "I'm a hunter. You're a hunter. You know the answer to that question."

"I suppose." He stood and poked his hand in the fridge. Glass bottles clinked together in his grasp as he offered you a beer. It was something you took without hesitation. The sound of the lid popping off was music to your ears. Dean and you took a drink simultaneously.

"I still had eight years left on my deal."

Dean nearly choked on his drink. "What?"

"Crowley's an ass," you spat. "He went back on his deal."

Dean gnawed on his lip nervously and went back to the pancake batter he was working on. In a short period of time, pancakes were cooking and you could hear the bunker door opening. "Something smells good," you could hear Sam yell from the front of the bunker. He was soon in the kitchen. "Good morning, Alice."