To say that Calliope and Booth were stunned by my sudden desire to go home was an understatement. When I awoke in the field, it was near noon and the sun was blisteringly hot, just as expected from a warm summer day. It hadn't taken me long to find my way back to camp and begin to swiftly order them to pack up. They were startled by my sudden aggression, although they didn't have the nerve to ask why I had a sudden change of heart. That much I was thankful for. I really didn't want to explain.
In just an hour, we were on our way home, marching slowly but surely across the mountainous terrain. In a few short days, we had passed through the states we had previously traveled through, back to where I had met Clarence. By the end of the week, we were home.
I sighed, my gaze flickering over the now well-maintained front lawn, various colorful flowers dotting the flowerbeds. I had a pleasant view of the surrounding landscape from my perch, the windowsill of the largest window in my loft, and the moonlight poured over me from my seated position on a thin cushion. Between my hands rested a mug, filled with plenty of caffeine to keep me awake for most of the night.
I didn't want to sleep. Each night had just brought frustration, failure after failure as I tried to meet the white wolf's demands. I was never able to speak to anyone but him, and certainly not in the way he wanted me to. My grip tightened on the mug, my knuckles going white with tension. If I slept, I knew he would drag me back to the darkness. If I stayed awake, I'd be left alone with my thoughts for another long night.
To my surprise, I was happier dealing with my rampant thoughts than with the mysterious wolf. My thoughts, at least, I could control.
I took a long sip of my drink, ignoring the sting on my tongue and basking in the warmth against my hands. The weeks following my return home had been quiet, although I enjoyed the solitude. It gave me a chance to breathe, and focus on what I needed for the first time in... months.
I sighed and shifted on the cushion, glancing into the tree line. It was Marcus and Caeden's night to hunt, and they had already been gone for hours. I was beginning to worry that we were steadily exhausting our food supply, although that didn't make sense. There were only seven of us, and thousands, maybe even millions of deer and various other prey. Perhaps they were just taking their time and enjoying the evening.
I pushed my head back against the wall, throat bared to the moonlight and eyes narrowed in thought. For once, I didn't want to traipse out into the forest after them and run until I felt my legs would give out. I didn't want to do much of anything, and yet I was so bored and disinterested in my daily life.
I missed the excitement of hunting, the feeling of making a difference in the world. I missed the thrill of a chase and the feeling of knowing that I had saved a life. I didn't care much for the idea of making the world a better place - rather, I cared that I was reaffirming my place in the world. Every hunt proved to me that I wasn't the monster skinwalkers were made out to be. Without hunting, I didn't have that affirmation. Of course, I knew I wasn't a monster - the faith my friends and my family had in me was proof enough of that.
I missed the brothers. I missed their playful banter and the fun we would have on hunts. I missed Sam's witticisms and his keen intelligence. I missed... well, I missed Dean. I missed everything about him and wanted nothing more than to join them once again, perhaps track down Yellow-eyes and sink my fangs into his throat.
Truthfully, it hadn't been that long since I had last seen them, but I still missed them just as much as I missed my pack after weeks of being away. I wondered if I could someday have both - keep my pack close and still engage with the Winchesters and the hunting lifestyle. Something told me it would be nearly impossible to have both, but I didn't care.
It had been a month and a half since I had last seen Sam and Dean, and with each passing day, I was getting antsier. They hadn't called once, and I worried about calling them - what if they were working a case, and I was just getting in their way? If they were hurt, or needed me, surely they would call. It never crossed my mind that they may be too headstrong to admit they need help. I huffed and rested my chin on my palm, my knee propped against my thigh and my mug rested on the floor.
A month at home felt like exactly what I needed, a break from everything that had been causing me stress and confusion. But, to my dismay, my worries had followed me and grown over the month. I had been ecstatic when I arrived home, although that was short-lived.
I had dropped to my knees on my front lawn when my house rose into view. Never in my life had I been so happy to see that familiar blue color and white trim, the colonial columns that lined the front porch, and the vibrant flowers I had helped Sasha plant not too long ago.
It always hit me just how much I missed my vibrant home until I finally returned, relieved to find it still standing. It was the only home I ever knew - living with my parents... that wasn't home. That was just somewhere I lived. But this place and living with my uncle had been where I found myself and finally learned to open up to others and put roots down.
I didn't know what I would do if I lost this place. It was my last link to my old life and the doorway into my new life. It was a part of me.
Seeing the rest of my pack race down the front steps or from the bunkhouse had my heart pounding in my chest with excitement and worry. What would they say? Would I be scolded, or praised by them? I didn't have much time to dwell on my thoughts before I was tackled into the dirt by Sasha, her short frame collapsing against mine.
"You're OK!" she exclaimed, gripping my torso so tightly that I felt my lungs might pop. "We were all so worried about you!" I wheezed as her grip became tighter, a fact that I didn't believe was possible.
Suddenly, she pushed away from me and held me at arm's length, her small hands gripping tightly into my shoulders. "What the hell happened!?" she demanded furiously a scowl adorning her features as her brown eyes flickered between my slouched form, and Calliope and Booth looming behind me. My eyes rose to meet the figures of the rest of my pack, jaunting towards us with worried frowns.
"I'd like to know that too," Marcus called, his usual playful tone gone and instead replaced with a harsher note. His arms were folded tightly, fingertips pressed into his freckled skin. "And try to cut out the bullshit this time - we all know something went wrong. We all felt it."
I winced and my gaze flickered up to Caeden's, his deep brown eyes cold like a brick wall. He seemed so imposing and calculating in the afternoon light, the sun's rays beaming down on him and lighting his skin with warmth. I frowned, an image of his body coated in electricity flashing in my mind. It fit him so well.
I spoke slowly, explaining with as little detail as necessary. I told them of my encounters with John Winchester, and why I had gone to help the brother's in the first place. They seemed startled to learn of my visits with the demon and appalled at its brutal behavior towards us in the hours before the car crash. I told them little of John and Mary's story - it wasn't mine to tell.
My pack fell silent as they mulled over my tale, soaking in the details. Of all of them, Caeden seemed the least shocked, although I wasn't sure if that was just a facade. I watched his reaction intently, hoping that he might drop a hint that he too had seen the infinite darkness, and perhaps even the white wolf.
My heart pounded and squeezed every time I mentioned Dean. I was worried about him and worried about how he was taking his father's death. Flashes of memories of him lying limp on a hospital bed would appear in my nightmares for years to come, though I didn't realize it yet. I shook my head, clearing out thoughts of him. I had other things to focus on.
As the day had crawled on, the pack seemed to slip into their usual routine and I felt like a bystander, an observer looking in. They had each other figured out, and had a rhythm that I lacked. Perhaps that was why I was so often shut up in the main house, away from their regular activities. That, and I was scared one of them would push me, and I would let everything spill out, alerting all of them to the stresses and worries I had been experiencing. It was my cross to carry, and I didn't want to worry them with the knowledge that I didn't even understand yet.
I had pulled Caeden aside not long after arriving home and done my best to question him on what he had felt. To my surprise, he hadn't been as closed off as I expected - he seemed confused and startled by my inquiries.
"I felt pain, and fear," he had answered simply. "Like the others, I knew something was wrong. I knew you were hurting. That's it."
"Booth said he could feel it," I pressed, eyes narrowed and lost in thought. Caeden nodded slowly and turned his eyes to the bunkhouse. I frowned, watching as he processed his memories of the events.
"Yeah, I felt it. Felt your pain. Don't know why, or how, but I felt where you were hurting, felt your fear." He grimaced and turned his deep brown eyes back on mine. "It wasn't a pleasant feeling."
I chuckled morbidly and took a step backward, away from him. "Yeah, I at least got knocked out pretty quick. Didn't have to deal with it too much." He nodded slowly and dropped his gaze to the ground, lips pursed, and jaw clenched.
"John Winchester," he spoke slowly, eyes narrowed. "He's the one who held that damned gun to your head, right?" I winced, pushing back memories of the Colt's barrel aimed at my forehead. Caeden inhaled deeply and turned his eyes back on mine. "That gun... it takes a lot of courage to face down something like that."
I laughed and placed my hands on my hips, watching as his lips twisted up into a thin smile. "I wouldn't call it courage. More like stupidity."
"Sometimes those are the same thing," he replied softly. The conversation had ended there, short per usual. It was hard to get more than a few sentences out of him at times. It amazed me that he and Marcus were even together - they were polar opposites, with Marcus being rambunctious and chatty, and Caeden being... well, not that.
I frowned at the dark lawn, eyes roaming over the thin blades of grass. The moon was low in the sky, a clear indicator that it wouldn't be long until the sun would rise. They would be home soon, or at least I hoped so. We were running low on food, and I had been craving hearts more than anything else. That, and Andrew's expert cooking.
I rested my head back against the wall and shut my eyes tightly, embracing the cool air that passed through the house. I hoped that the caffeine would keep me awake until breakfast, and perhaps well into the morning. I knew I needed the sleep - I hadn't gotten enough recently and the bags under my eyes were proof enough of that. I didn't care though, as long as I could have one quiet night without that god-forsaken, stuck-up wolf watching my every move.
Stuck-up? a familiar voice questioned. I groaned, refusing to open my eyes. I didn't need to open them to know where I was or who was speaking. The sound of fur whipping through the warm air alerted me to the wolf's irritation.
"Dammit," I whispered out, knowing the wolf couldn't hear me when I spoke. I opened my eyes to the darkness, taking in my shadowed bedroom walls and the empty sky outside my window. Can't even have one night to myself, can I? I questioned, voice dripping with sarcasm.
The wolf scoffed. You're the one who keeps coming back here, he grumbled. I turned my head to face him, taking in his massive form on my bed, white fur sprawled across the sheets. I shook my head and stood, expecting to feel the cold wooden floors beneath my feet, and instead felt... nothing.
It's not like I want to be here, I retaliated and reached for my mug on the floor. I just want one night of sleep, a decent cup of coffee- I turned my irritated gaze on him. - And I want you off my bed.
The wolf scoffed again, his tail lashing with exasperation. I had learned fairly quickly that he hated disrespect. I didn't care. He could have my respect when he deserved it, just like everyone else. Your bed? he questioned and lifted his head from his paws. Nothing in this realm is yours, he spat.
Then whose is it? I questioned, not bothering to face him. I made my way down the small spiral staircase that led up to my loft. Yours? The wolf growled, his low rumblings steadily drawing nearer. I shook my head as my feet met the floor at the base of the staircase and made my way to the kitchen, the wolf not far behind me.
What could I possibly learn from you? I demanded a question I had asked many times already. I could tell I was steadily wearing down the wolf's patience as he padded into the kitchen. Do you even have a name?
My name is none of your concern, he replied. I rolled my eyes and reached for the coffee pot, only to see it disappear where my fingertips had touched it. I frowned. Of course, I couldn't touch anything in this god-awful dimension -- that would have been too easy.
I suggest you try to reach out to your companions again, the wolf spoke, his voice low and raspy with obvious exasperation. You were close the other night.
I barked out a laugh, a dry, sarcastic laugh. Seeing them doesn't make me close, I spat and placed my hands on the countertop, ignoring the ripples of darkness that spread outward from my palms. I don't know what you want from me. All you ever do is push me to do something I can't.
The wolf narrowed his red eyes at my tense back, arms locked, and head bowed in frustration. He sighed, lips parting to reveal his frankly terrifying fangs. If I didn't think you could do it, I wouldn't be speaking to you, he responded, voice comforting and yet firm.
I winced at his words and spun to face him, glaring at his immaculate form. Why me? I asked, the impatience quickly leaving my voice as I spoke. Why not any other skinwalker? Surely if you can talk to me, you can talk to anyone else.
The wolf chuckled and sat back on his haunches, red eyes gleaming with amusement. His lips split in a wolfish grin, a gesture that I was sure would have looked pleasant, had it not been for his monstrous fangs. It has been... a very long time since I have met a monster such as yourself, he began, ears flattened back in thought. Skinwalkers like you... they're a rarity in the monster world. A rarity, and more powerful than anything else I've ever seen. Stronger, faster... his eyes rose to meet mine in a steely stare. - Wilder.
I winced at his words, a rush of images filling my mind, moments where I had lost control. His grin fell and his ears pricked up in an almost pitying way. Wilder doesn't mean better, I retaliated and pushed past him, ignoring the feeling of his soft fur against my exposed skin.
No, he agreed and pushed himself to his feet, following close behind me. But, it does offer greater opportunities. I glanced over my shoulder at the wolf, eyebrow raised in curiosity. He chuckled softly, the rough sound filling my mind. Do you really think you could speak to me like this without such a pedigree?
I frowned and faced forward once more, hands shoved deep into the pockets of my jeans. What do you know about my pedigree? I asked, obvious suspicion dripping into my tone. The wolf's ears rolled backward, although I didn't see the action.
I know there aren't many like you, he began, following me onto the back porch. Instead of rickety boards beneath my feet, the wood rippled outward in darkness, like the disturbed surface of a lake. I know that you doubt yourself, because of your pedigree. What I don't know is why.
I scoffed and placed my hands firmly on the railing, gazing out into the darkness that blanketed the sky. It was odd to see the night sky empty, lacking the stars and moon that so often held my attention. My home was still illuminated by the familiar glow that came with the moon, although there was no light source in sight.
Why? I asked, growling out the single word. I figured that would be obvious by now.
You don't want to hurt anyone, he offered and moved to stand by my side, gazing out into the distant forest, red eyes glimmering in the shadows. What if they deserve to be hurt? What if you had the power to hurt those who hurt you?
I scowled, fingernails digging deeper into the wood beneath my palms until it too faded into the darkness, rippling beneath my skin. I don't know, I replied softly. It depends on what they did.
What if they hurt your family? he pushed. Your pack? I winced under his scrutinizing gaze, red eyes narrowed as he took in my every nervous movement. As an alpha, it is your duty to protect them -- to avenge them, if need be. He turned his head once more to face the distant horizon. You'll learn. Just like all the others before you, you'll learn.
I paused for a moment, muscles tense and eyebrows furrowed in thought. I didn't want to hurt anyone - not again, at least. After several long moments, I spun on my heel and descended the rickety steps onto the lawn. I'm going to try again, I spoke, catching the wolf's attention. Feel free to leave anytime.
The wolf scoffed again and turned his back to me, disappearing into the woods. I sighed softly, feeling a weight lifted from my shoulders upon his departure. The idea of someone I didn't know inside my head was unnerving - it made my skin crawl, knowing that he seemed to know far more about me than I knew about him. I frowned in the darkness and sat in the grass, closing my eyes as I had over the past several nights.
"Let's see if it works this time," I spoke, having grown used to voicing my thoughts. Squeezing my eyes shut, I spread my limbs and did my best to relax in the darkness. With a deep sigh, I reached into the darkness, hoping to pull someone toward me.
I opened my eyes to total darkness, the same darkness I had first met the wolf in. It was eerie now, and oh so quiet without him there. I waded through the abyss, pulled along by some invisible strings that were coaxing me through the shadows.
I paused and scanned the darkness, looking for any sign that perhaps I wasn't alone. My eyes landed on a soft blue light in the distance, a light, unlike the one that emitted from Caeden. I frowned, thinking back on my attempts to find him and speak to him - it had always been fruitless. Perhaps this new shade meant I was getting closer.
I raced through the darkness, bare feet pushing off of nothing as I ran and ran. Finally, the light drew nearer, and I realized it wasn't a light at all. It was a typhoon, stormy and powerful, unlike Caeden's wild electricity. I watched in awe, taking in the shapes of crashing waves and clouds dotting the expanse.
Booth.
Just as I had done with Caeden, I brushed aside the many swirling clouds and reached into the abyss until I felt leathery skin beneath my fingertips. The fog cleared, revealing his blue eyes, and worn skin, wrinkles beginning the form beneath his eyes from age. He looked stern and solid, just as he usually did, although this time he was frozen.
Tentatively, I placed a hand on his arm, watching as the clouds dissipated beneath my touch. With a deep breath, I spoke. Booth? I questioned, mouth unmoving and my eyes locked on his. Can you hear me?
In the bunkhouse, Booth jolted awake, hands clammy and eyes wide. His gaze narrowed as his sights wandered around the room, old eyes slowly becoming accustomed to the darkness. It was still night, although he assumed the sun wasn't far from rising. The moon was low in the sky, casting its dim light into the room through the paned windows.
He rolled his shoulders and laid back down against the mattress. He could have sworn he heard someone call his name. With one last exasperated sigh, he shut his eyes and willed his hammering heart to steady. It was hard enough staying asleep through Andrew's snoring without also having to worry about dreaming of voices.
---
"A roadhouse?" I asked, readjusting the phone against my ear as I paced the yard, dirt, and grime covering my palms. "And one full of hunters? I don't know, Bobby, sounds kind of risky."
"If you want to meet up with the boys again, that's where they'll be," he offered. "S'up to you, but I figure it's as good an option as any." I chewed my lips nervously and glanced over my shoulder at Marcus and Andrew as they struggled to pull rotten boards from the side of the bunkhouse. The building was in desperate need of repairs in some places, and a fresh coat of paint. Today seemed the best day to do it.
"Why don't you just have them call me?" I suggested, turning away from the struggling boys behind me. Both had little experience with building, although they were eager to help. "They have my new number, don't they?"
Bobby hummed in what I assumed was a 'yes', or close to it. I frowned and placed my hand on my hip, thinking. "Look, I'm out of the game. If the boys need me for something, they can feel free to call me-"
"You saying you don't miss 'em?" Bobby questioned, voice gravelly with irritation. It seemed he didn't care for my inhibitions. "Cause I know they miss you. They just don't have the balls to call you." I chuckled at this and relaxed my shoulders, a grin spreading across my lips.
"Of course I miss them, Bobs," I replied, relishing in the scoff I got from the nickname. "I just don't know about this visit. Kind of like walking into a lion's den, begging to be eaten, you know? Seems kind of idiotic to me."
Bobby huffed, and I heard shuffling from the other end. It seemed he had sat down - I winced, knowing that likely meant I was in for an earful. "Girl, the only thing that strikes me as idiotic is the fact that you idgits can't seem to get your heads on straight and just talk to each other." Bobby sighed and fell silent for a few moments before speaking again. "It's been nearly two months, N/N. 'Bout time you at least talk to them, yeah?"
I hummed in response and folded one arm around my torso, eyes latched to the blue sky, cloudless for the first time in days. "Nebraska, huh?" I glanced back over my shoulder at my struggling friends. I had been wanting to get out of the house for a while - a road trip was as good an option as any, right?
"Text me the address," I continued, eyes latched on the faded and crumbling bunkhouse. "I'll see what I can do."
---
"I thought you were done with hunting," Calliope questioned as she watched me pack from her perch on my bed. "You know, like you had given it up, moved on, got tired of killing stuff." I cast her a questioning glance from beside my backpack and she hurried to reiterate. "Killing monsters, I mean."
"It's not a hunt," I replied and folded a shirt tightly before slipping it into my small backpack. There wasn't much space, so I needed to conserve as much room as possible. "I'm just visiting."
"Why don't you just call them and have them come over for dinner or something?" she asked and propped her head up, elbows planted firmly into the mattress. "You have their numbers, don't you?"
I shook my head and zipped the top of the backpack shut. "I don't have them saved to my new phone-"
Calliope scoffed and moved to sit on the edge of the bed, a playful glare adorning her features. "Right, like you have Bobby's number memorized, but not Dean Winchester's." I shot her a glare and slipped my pack onto my shoulders.
"I'll only be gone a few days," I spoke, changing the subject before the redness of my cheeks could give me away. She wasn't wrong - I did have their numbers memorized. "No hunting, I promise."
"And no surprise trips to Montana either, right?" she added, raising a thin brow at me. I smiled and nodded back, readjusting the pack on my back. I wasn't quite sure what had her so spooked about the mountainous state, but I knew not to push. I assumed that she had simply been worried about what other monsters were lurking in the woods - I know I was.
I glanced one last time around my room, taking in the pale walls and messy bedspread. It seemed like I had only just got here, although it had been close to two months already. Each day had been a menial blur; it seemed all I did every day was hide from my own thoughts, and then late at night hide from the darkness that sought to draw me back.
With a final sigh, I made my way down the spiral staircase with Calliope not far behind. Bustling sounds from the kitchen drew my attention and I padded through the living room to investigate the commotion.
"Take some extra bandages with you, just in case. You know how reckless she can be," came Sasha's voice. I peeked around the corner to see her filling a small backpack that lay on the countertop, Andrew standing beside her shoulder. "Oh, and if you see a gas station, be sure to fill up on snacks - it's a long trip and you're going to need all the energy you can get-"
"What's going on?" I questioned and slipped into the kitchen, leaning against the counter, and watched the pair with interest. Andrew and Sasha jumped, wide eyes trained on my form.
"Uh-" Andrew began and swallowed nervously. He placed his hand on the bag and pulled it closer to him. "Booth- uh, Booth wanted me to go with you. You know, to keep you safe and stuff." I didn't miss the way his chest puffed out ever so slightly in pride.
I narrowed my eyes and chewed the inside of my lip in irritation. "I don't need protection, thanks. You can stay, Andy." The boy looked crestfallen, his red hair drooping slightly into his face, covering the freckles that dotted his forehead.
"Why not? I mean, it's just a couple days, right?" he asked and zipped the bag closed, drawing it closer to him. "What's the harm?"
"The harm-" I began and took a slow step into the kitchen, "- is that I don't want you potentially getting hurt. You know Sam and Dean aren't always the safest people to be around."
"Even more reason for him to go with you," came a gravelly voice from behind me. I spun to face Booth, standing tall in the doorway having just come off the back deck. I frowned at his words and crossed my arms in frustration. "Besides, the kid could use a vacation."
I scowled at Booth, meeting his stern blue eyes. He was right, Andrew had been working his ass off recently. He had taken to working on projects with Booth and had quickly picked up on managing tasks around the property. Hell, he had even picked up a knack for building.
I glanced over my shoulder at Andrew, a hopeful expression on his freckled features. Beside him was Sasha, looking tense and nervous, as though she wasn't sure how I would react. After a long sigh, I finally spoke.
"OK," I agreed. Andrew and Sasha cheered and celebrated with a high five. I glared and pointed an accusing finger at the young boy, stopping him in his tracks. "But, if something goes wrong, I need you to promise me that you'll run. Don't stay and try to fight, just get out of there."
"That, I can agree with," Booth added, holding Andrew in his steady gaze. "I have faith that everything will turn out fine, but in the event it doesn't, run." The redhead nodded slowly and swallowed nervously.
I glanced at the stuffed bag that his hand rested on, pursing my lips at how overfull it was. It looked like the zipper might pop any moment. "You're really going to take all that?" I asked, glancing between Sasha and Andrew, who both glanced sheepishly at the bag.
"I was actually going to have him pack a bit more..." Sasha replied softly. Her voice was always soft and gentle, far more motherly than anything I could ever muster. "Do you think it's too much?"
I grinned and glanced back towards the heavy bag. Carrying that in our canine forms, a form that wasn't used to carrying heavy loads on their backs would certainly be a pain. "Maybe a bit, though I think I might have a solution." I turned my eyes back on Andrew, meeting his worried gaze. "I don't suppose you know anything about hot-wiring a car?"
The boy paled.
---
"You're going to get us arrested," Andrew whined, gripping the dash of our stolen Subaru WRX like his life depended on it. "We're going to get pulled over, and they're going to ask for our registration, and then we're going to go to jail-"
"Would you stop worrying?" I chastised him with a click of my tongue, relaxing my grip on the steering wheel. "We're almost there, we're not likely to get pulled over between here and there," I added as I cast a glance at the GPS. I was right - we were only a few minutes out. I couldn't stop the grin that spread across my face at the thought of being able to see the brothers again.
"Are you excited to see them again?" he asked, green eyes sparkling with enthusiasm. He slackened his grip on the dash and rested his hands on his lap, although he didn't relax his tense shoulders.
I nodded along with his words, my smile growing as I sped down the road. "Yeah, I am. I was worried about them, you know? This is a nice excuse to check in on them."
He hummed in agreement and faced forward, eyes trained on the open road. The pavement beneath the tires was wet, showing that it had recently rained. I was thankful we had missed the storm -- I was beginning to grow tired of the rain.
I jumped as the GPS spoke, ordering that I turn at the next left. I gripped the wheel tighter and swung wide when I saw the turn, speeding onto the dirt road in such a manner that had Andrew holding on for dear life. I didn't care how unstable the car felt as I floored it down the bumpy road, littered with potholes - I only cared that I was close to them again.
I slowed as the road came to an end, an old wooden building looming off to the right of the road. It stood in a wide field, cars circling the perimeter of the worn bar. Just below the second-story rooftop sat a neon sign titled 'Harvelle's Roadhouse'. The car hadn't even rolled to a complete stop when I put it in park and lunged out of the seat. Andrew jumped into action, following close behind as I ran up the steps onto the front porch.
The heavy doors swung open easily under my touch, allowing the afternoon light to cascade into the dimly lit bar. The room was more full than I expected, with several humans at each pool table, drinking, laughing, and making bets. In the back corner sat an old arcade machine with a young blonde woman slotting coins into the machine.
"Can I help you?" came a woman's voice. I turned towards the bar, taking in the form of a tired woman, a rag slung over her shoulder and her brown eyes darting suspiciously between Andrew and me. She placed her hands on the countertop, no doubt with a hidden gun beneath her palm.
"Sam and Dean," I finally spoke. She straightened slowly, eyes narrowed in renewed suspicion. "Are they here?"
The woman paused and eyed me carefully before nodding and gesturing for me to follow. "They're upstairs. Come with me." She didn't miss the grin that blossomed across my face as I jogged after her, doing my best to avoid the hunters that milled around the bar.
I followed the woman up a rickety set of stairs, the boards bending under my weight in a way that had me holding my breath with worry that they might collapse beneath me. The entire bar was like that, although it still had a cozy, welcoming feel to it. Perhaps it was the soft glow of the lights or the smell of booze, but it felt welcoming and safe.
The woman stopped beside a door near the end of the narrow hallway and knocked twice. A sign, reading 'Doctor Badass is: in' clacked against the door under the force of her knock. "You've got some visitors, boys," she called out before turning the dirty knob and gently pushing the door open.
I shuffled past her in the narrow hallway and peeked my head around the doorway. The room was dark, although there was plenty of light for me to make out three figures standing around a table. I pushed the door open all the way and stepped lightly into the room, eyeing the trio with excitement.
"Y/N?" came Sam's voice, wrought with a mixture of confusion and elation. "What are you doing here?" he asked as he made his way around the table, arms open wide in a beckoning hug. I hugged him back, nearly being pulled off my feet from the height difference.
"Bobby told me you two were here!" I chirped, unable to suppress the grin that adorned my features. "Figured I'd check up on you boys." I loosened my grip on Sam and took a step back, turning my eyes on Dean.
My cheeks flushed upon seeing him, something that caught me off guard. He looked so much better than he did when I left. He had healed up nicely, left without a blemish on his handsome features. Even in the darkness, his green eyes and freckles stood out.
"Hi," I spoke, voice quieter and softer than I had expected. Dean grinned back, an action that had my cheeks flushing a deeper red.
Shit.
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