Chapter 7
Scrambling to her feet, Ali's hand tightened around the cold iron of her crowbar, shivering as the temperature of the air dropped noticeably around her.
"Ali? You good?" Sam's voice echoed up from the chamber below, sounding decidedly distant as she squinted into the darkness that surrounded her like a thick cloak.
"Just hurry." She called back, trying not to sound worried as the steady rhythm of the Tommyknockers crept closer, the gentle tapping becoming more rapid. As her knuckles whitened around the iron bar, she didn't doubt that her theory of the miner following the Fae spirits was correct. "Alright, come out and play." She hissed to the darkness, swallowing back the icy fear that rose in her chest.
In the tunnel beneath the chamber where they had left Ali, Sam grimaced at the stale odour that drifted through the still air.
"Think we're getting close." He muttered, grunting as he knocked his head against the stone roof of the tunnel.
"Well keep going." Dean frowned, urging him on with a hand on his back, "The sun's down, and we've left Ali up there with no flashlight and no shotgun."
"Shit- right, yeah." Sam nodded, hurrying as quickly as he could down the dark passageway, his skin prickling as he thought he heard the distant sound of knocking.
"Shit!"
Ali's cry of alarm echoed through the chamber as a pickaxe whistled past her face in the darkness, the only thing that made her step back was the angry snarl that had prefaced the swing. Blindly, she struck out with her crowbar, trying to guess where the spirit was stood as she tried to avoid stepping back into the gaping hole in the floor that the Winchesters had kindly left. Another yelp passed her lips as the miner's growl ripped through the air, another aimless dodge carrying her out of the way of his vicious swing and a desperate swipe of her own connecting with the spirit, a breath of relief leaving her as the tell-tale smouldering ash of a vanishing spirit briefly lit the chamber.
Though judging by the still-frantic tapping of the Tommyknockers, she hadn't bought herself nearly enough time. She just had to hope she could keep the spirit distracted long enough to let the boys do their thing.
"Got him." Sam grimaced as the beam of his flashlight bounced back at him as they met the end of the tunnel, illuminating the brittle, dried corpse dressed in miners' overalls.
"Gross." Dean grimaced, passing forward the backpack full of salt and gasoline just as a cry echoed down the tunnel, "Step on it, Sammy." He muttered, his grip tightening on his shotgun, "I'm gonna go check on your girlfriend."
"I- she's not-"
"Quickly."
A yell of frustration escaped Ali as the tip of the pickaxe caught the sleeve of her jacket, tearing it as she jerked away, scrambling back against the stone wall and lashing out blindly again as her breath came in frantic pants.
"This is my fucking favourite jacket!" She screamed into the darkness as she swept her crowbar in a wide arc around her, her eyes fixed on the impenetrable darkness that concealed the angry spirit. Warily, she stepped away from the wall, her free hand blindly feeling in front of her as she held the bar out defensively with the other; "C'mon, give me something to hit you son of a-"
The deafening crack of a gunshot filled the chamber, just as something slammed into her chest with enough force to knock the air from her lungs and send her staggering back into the wall with a cry of pain, her crowbar falling from her hand.
"Ali?"
"What the hell Dean?" She wheezed at the sound of his voice that broke through the ringing in her ears, the distinctive taste of rock salt on her lips and the scent of gunpowder in the air explaining what had happened clearly enough, "You fucking shot me!"
"Shit- sorry!" He yelled up from where he was stood in the chamber below, squinting through the darkness to try and pick her out, "I just heard something move, thought you were our guy."
"Right." She coughed heavily as she rubbed her undoubtably bruised chest, dropping to her knees as she blindly groped her way across the ground in search of her dropped weapon. "You got a light? I can't see shit-"
For the second time in the space of a minute, she was cut off mid-sentence, this time by her head being roughly jerked back as a clammy hand fisted in her hair. A scream of pain was pulled from her lips as she was thrown back against the rock wall, faintly hearing the sound of Dean yelling her name over the sounds of frantic knocking and the panting of foul breath in her face. Frantically she kicked out, yelping as a heavy boot stamped down on her leg to pin her down, her eyes blindly staring up into the blackness, though she could have sworn she saw the glint of a pickaxe being raised in the darkness.
"Knew the Winchester's would be the death of me." She hissed under her breath, cringing back against the wall as she waited for the blade to drop.
Except it didn't.
A gut-wrenching roar of agony ripped through the crushing darkness, and suddenly Ali was blinded by a flash of fire. Throwing her arm over her eyes, she just managed to glimpse the outlined figure of the miner before he was engulfed in flame, the bright image seared into her eyes long after he had vanished and the blackness of the mine rushed back.
A breathless, pained laugh escaped her as she slumped back against the wall, content to sit there on the cold stone ground as she listened to the frantic knocking calm to a gentle tapping, before fading completely.
"Yes Sammy!" Dean whooped from below, reassured at the wheezing laugh he heard above him, "Ali? You good?"
"I took a round of rock salt to the chest Dean, what do you think?" He heard her groan wearily as he turned to see the faint light of Sam's flashlight beginning to fill the chamber as he scrambled out of the tunnel, coughing as he waved a hand to clear the smoke that had followed him.
"Is she okay?" Sam called as he dashed back into the chamber, shining the beam of light up through the hole in the boards above them.
"Would have been more okay if you'd been about two minutes quicker." The answering mutter was enough to pull a smile to his lips as above them, Ali hauled herself to her feet, rubbing her aching chest with a pained grimace. As she stepped into the light, she smiled wryly down at them, "I should leave your two useless asses down there."
"Useless? We torched the sucker!" Dean laughed as she raised an eyebrow.
"You shot me in the chest."
"You did what?" Sam spluttered, turning to face his brother.
"Hey, it was dark." Dean held up his hands, cringing a little even as he smiled in the wake of the successful hunt, "C'mon Sammy, I'll give you a leg up."
As the older brother knelt to let Sam step on his knee, Ali crouched at the edge of the hole in the boards to grasp his outstretched hand, helping him pull himself up with a grunt.
"Thanks Sam." She panted as he slid back to sit beside her, setting the flashlight on the ground to illuminate the chamber, "You did save my ass, even if it was late."
"We shouldn't have left you up here." He sighed, eyeing the scratches on her jaw and peppering of holes in her shirt from the rock salt. He remembered only too well the bruises that Dean had suffered after their night in the Roosevelt Asylum in Illinois.
"You can buy me a beer to make it up to me." She smiled over at him as an exasperated 'Hey!' rose up from the chamber below. Moving to the edge of the boards, she raised an eyebrow down at Dean, "Yes?"
"Can you two quit it with the eye-fucking and get me out of here?"
*
Ali refused they boys' offer to drive her back to the motel once they had made it out of the mine, insisting that she'd got herself home in worse shape before. She still stood by her rule that she never got in a car that someone else was driving, it didn't matter how much her chest and back ached from being thrown around.
It was nothing that a hot shower didn't ease anyway, once she'd made it back to her room and tossed the t-shirt that Dean's misplaced shot had riddled with holes. "Maybe that's why those boys wear so many layers..." She muttered to herself as she tugged on her pyjama shirt and shorts, drying off her tousled curls before going to retrieve the bottle of Riesling she had stashed in the mini fridge beside her bed.
A knock at her door had her turning just as she had placed her lips to the bottle, rolling her eyes as she took a swig anyway before striding to crack the door open.
"Sam." She smiled up at him as she opened the door a little wider, leaning against the wooden frame as she watched his eyes drop to her legs and then quickly work their way back up to her face.
"I uh... I was wondering if you wanted me to buy you that beer?" He managed to force out, glancing back over his shoulder at where Dean was shrugging on his leather jacket, "Dean spotted a bar in town..."
"I'll pass on this one." She laughed softly, gesturing to her attire, "I have a date with a chilled bottle of white and whatever's on TV."
"That's how you wind down after a hunt?" He laughed, shoving his hands into his pockets.
"Sometimes." She grinned, "Other times the best way to get over a hunt is to get under something tall, dark and handsome."
"Wowza." Dean choked as he twirled his car keys in his fingers as Ali laughed at Sam's bewildered expression.
"Next time, Sam." She smiled fondly up at him, reaching to straighten the collar of his clean shirt and patting his chest, "Have fun though."
"Alright, see you in the morning?" He breathed, watching as she retracted her hand from his chest.
"Lattes and pastries all round." She nodded, biting her lip to try and hide her smile as she stepped back into the room, "G'night boys."
"Night Ali." Dean waved over his shoulder as he climbed into the Impala, smirking as he watched his brother staring at the door that was gently closed in his face, "C'mon Sammy, cold one's waiting!"
Ali smiled to herself as she caught up her wine once more, shaking her head a little as she flopped onto the bed. "Worth a shot." She hummed to the empty room as she flipped on the TV, considering how her night might be going differently if she'd invited Sam in. They weren't working together anymore, after all.
Still, it didn't make much of a difference, she'd told them what they wanted to hear. She'd be long gone by breakfast time, and unless fate intervened, she'd probably never see the Winchester brothers again.
*
Sam sighed as he leaned his elbow on the bar, watching Dean chatting up the blonde bartender with boundless enthusiasm. An hour or two after they'd left the motel, and a few beers deep, he wasn't much of a conversation partner anymore. His head wasn't in the bar, it was back at the motel, occasionally stopping by Bobby Singer's kitchen or even the parking lot of a bar far away in Portland. It certainly wasn't here, because she wasn't here.
Even Dean had noticed as much, playfully urging him to head back before he went to go and find his own amusement for the evening. It was maddening, though. He couldn't get her out of his head, no matter how hard he tried. If he forced himself not to think about the kisses they had shared then his mind unhelpfully wandered to those moments he had noticed her tone soften, her gaze become open and honest, the moments when he finally thought he was beginning to figure this girl out. Then he'd remind himself not to think about that and he'd be right back at the kisses again.
Slamming his empty beer bottle down on the bar with a little more force than intended, he straightened, feeling the same sense of surrender he'd felt in Bobby's kitchen less than a week ago, the moment he'd decided to pace across the linoleum towards Ali. Casting his brother a small wave over his shoulder, he paced with similar intent out the door of the bar.
It was a slightly longer walk back to the motel though.
Ali had made her peace with not seeing him again. With not seeing that stupid, easy smile that made her heart flip or those stupid, deep hazel eyes or his stupid, floppy hair and she had certainly made her peace with not kissing his stupid, soft lips again. At least, that was what she'd thought, right up until the knock on her door a few minutes after midnight. She almost didn't hear it over the sound of the 'Throwback Hits' playlist the MTV-knockoff channel was blaring out of the tinny little television set – it hadn't stopped her getting a little too invested in the upbeat tracks now that her wine was almost finished.
Dancing her way over to the door, she grinned breathlessly up at him, bracing a hand against the door to mirror the way he was leaning on her doorframe.
"Can I help you, Sam?" She smiled, tilting her head as those stupid hazel eyes settled on hers.
"I uh..." He cleared his throat, not wanting to sound breathless after his rapid walk across town; "I had a question, about the hunt."
"You'd better come in then." She hummed curiously, stepping back and opening the door a little wider, raising an eyebrow as he strode in and proceeded to pace in front of her bed, his tall frame suddenly making the room feel very small. She snatched up the remote and turned down the volume on the TV; "Alright, shoot."
He frowned a little, pushing one large hand through his hair as he turned to look at her, almost as if he was groping through his mind for words; "Uh, the Tommyknockers." He started, nodding when he seemed to settle on a solid thought, "What happens to them now?"
She smiled a little in disbelief that he'd actually asked a genuine question, folding her arms over her chest; "I imagine they'll move along to greener pastures." She shrugged, "The mine is totally abandoned now, they'll have nothing to do there now they're not leading a spirit on a wild goose chase."
"So, they won't be a danger to anyone?" He probed, stepping a little closer to her.
"They'll probably stir up a little shit, but no, they won't be dangerous." She assured him, relaxing her folded arms as he took another step to stand before her.
"So... The hunt's over then?" He breathed, reaching to gently sweep a strand of her hair from her face as she gazed up at him.
"Hunt's over." Ali confirmed softly, unconsciously leaning into the surprisingly tender touch of his warm fingers.
"We're not working together anymore?"
She smiled at his question, shaking her head a little; "As of right now, no."
"Good." He breathed, gently catching her face in his hands just as she pressed up onto her toes, throwing her arms around his neck to kiss him eagerly.
There was still that delightful frustration there, that mutual, withheld longing finally released in a demanding clash of lips and hands grasping for any purchase they could get. A breathless gasp of his name escaped Ali's lips as he lifted her against him with alarming ease, her hands scrambling to push his jacket from his shoulders as she wrapped her legs around his hips. There was something about the way he held her, his large hands splaying across her back and shoulders that made her feel so wonderfully small – and for once she didn't mind one bit. Gripping his shirt with one hand, she returned his insistent kisses with equal enthusiasm; clinging to him like she was trying to hold on to a branding iron, relishing in the burn of every touch, every feral growl she could pull from his throat as she buried her free hand in his soft hair.
"Sam..." She gasped his name again as he broke from her lips, laying a fiery trail of kisses down her neck.
"Yeah?" He panted into her skin, freezing at the sound of her voice, as if he expected her to laugh and push him away, even as he felt her shiver in his arms at the sensation of his breath on her skin.
"Lock the door." Ali breathed, pulling him up to set her lips to his once more.
[A/N: Thank you for reading! Don't forget to leave a vote and comment if you're enjoying the story! X]