The River

Chapter 6 - Bloodlines

Dean slowly lifted the revolver out of its case and twirled it in his hands, looking at the gun from every angle. It seemed as if he was trying to figure out if it was real.

"Your last name is Colt?" Sam asked. "As in... Samuel Colt?"

I nodded my yes, still watching Dean fiddle with my most prized possession. I tried not to be possessive but part of me wanted to snatch it back and run away with it.

"How is that possible?" Bobby demanded, still sounding shocked. "Demons hunted down every last member of his bloodline."

That was true. Samuel Colt was a legendary hunter in the early 1900s, his specialty being demons. The man had endless creative ways when it came to capturing and exorcising the hellish things. His creativity and expertise were so much, that he created the first known way to man to actually kill a demon.

It was by using this revolver with its special bullets. Samuel Colt was untouchable and the demons couldn't figure out how to destroy him, so the hunter lived a long life and died of natural causes which was unheard of in this way of life. However, the demons couldn't let go of the past and set out to hunt down every one of the hunter's ancestors. Of course, I had only learned of all this after the demons had left my family choking on their own intestines...

I cringed as the words Bobby spoke brought back my darkest memories and threw them at the forefront of my mind, where I never allowed them to be. Not while I was awake anyway. Bobby seemed to notice my uneasiness, rubbing at the back of his neck as he realized he had overstepped.

"They didn't finish the job," I muttered while staring at the ground. I peeked and saw Sam give Bobby a sharp look, while Bobby raised his hands as if to say he didn't mean to hurt anyone's feelings.

I also saw Dean's eyes studying my face while he still held the revolver in his hand. I quickly cleared my throat and lifted my chin, letting my face go stoic so I wouldn't display just how much my heart had torn. I grabbed my gun back, placing it in its warded case.

"Anyways," I said to change the topic. "I have the Colt, so what do you need it for?"

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I took a long drag from my cigarette as Sam finished up the story. I tried to keep the look of sorrow out of my eyes but I wasn't sure how good of a job I was doing. It was good that Dean was looking away, staring in the distance. However, I could see his jaw clenching so I knew the story had a big effect on him.

We were on Bobby's porch and Sam had just finished telling me how the yellow-eyed demon murdered their mother when Sam was just six months old. Sam described how the demon had their mother, Mary, pinned to the ceiling and bleeding before setting her ablaze. Although Dean was just four at the time, I knew he could remember seeing her that night because as Sam told the story, his eyes looked distant and I saw the small cringe he tried to hide.

Sam explained that their father became obsessed with hunting the thing that killed their mother. He raised the boys on the road and trained them to hunt evil. That was until John Winchester lost his battle with the same demon a couple of years back when he tried to hunt it alone. He was trying to protect his sons but by doing so, he lost his life. Sam explained how the Winchester boys had been hunting Yellow Eyes down ever since, seeking revenge for their parents.

"You've never gotten any leads?" I asked quietly several minutes and several cigarettes after Sam finished his story. "The thing hasn't shown up anywhere?"

Dean's head snapped back, looking at his brother who was now looking down. "Not since Jessica," Dean said. The words caused a pained look to break across Sam's face and I immediately hated it. Sam's energy was always so warm and soothing to me, the look of pain simply did not belong on his face. So, I didn't question any further and no one explained. They didn't have to, all I knew was Jessica was important to Sam and the demon had taken her from him.

I headed to my truck and hopped into the bed, crawling towards the safe I kept in the very back. The boys had followed me and watched curiously as I turned the knob in the correct pattern to unlock the thing. Once opened, I pulled several journals out and blew the dust off them, coughing a bit once the dust was stirred.

These were Samuel Colt's journals that he passed down to his son, who passed them down to his son. That son was my father so now they belonged to me.

I turned back to the Winchester men who were eyeing me suspiciously and grinned.

"Let's see if Great Grandpa Colt knew anything about the son of a bitch."