20 | Dead Man's Blood

YOU'RE IN LOVE WITH HIM AND HE'S IN LOVE WITH YOU AND ITS LIKE A GODDAMN TRAGEDY BECAUSE YOU LOOK AT HIM AND SEE THE STARS AND HE LOOKS AT YOU AND SEES THE SUN AND YOU BOTH THINK THE OTHER IS JUST LOOKING SOMEWHERE ELSE

Manning, Colorado

You, Sam, and Dean walk up to the small cabin in the middle of the woods.

While searching for cases, you found someone by the name Daniel Elkins who was attacked by an animal of a sort in a newspaper article.

The name sounded so familiar to you but you couldn't make out how you knew the man.

Thinking it was a case, you showed it to Sam and Dean who recalled the name in their dad's journal.

D. Elkins with an area pin code.

Not knowing whether the hunter was injured or not with no means of calling him, you guys decided to check it out.

Though you had been reluctant, you decided against not going with them.

It was already dark as you guys approached the house, the woods surrounding it making it eery with the chirping of crickets and the hooting of a distant owl. You enter the cabin after Dean picks the lock when no one responded to the knocking.

You take out the cheap flashlight you bought at a gas station and switch it on, directing it into the messy house. Your shoes skid slightly over some powdery substance on the floor.

You walk into a separate room than the boys and assume it's the living room, with a few empty beer cans on the coffee table.

"Looks like the maid didn't come today," Dean says from the other room. With a lingering look at the empty, dirty room, you make your way to the boys, following Dean's voice. Your head starts aching slightly and you frown.

"Hey, where'd you go?" Sam asks while still standing at the cabin's doorstep.

"I was checking out the rest of the house," you say as you look down at powdery white substance on the floor again. "Is that salt?"

"Yeah, I think so," Sam breathes out as he looks down too.

"You mean, like, protection-against-demons salt or 'oops, I spilled the popcorn' salt?" Dean asks and you snort slightly.

"It's clearly a ring," Sam states, slightly exasperated at what Dean said. He walks over to Dean, beckoning you to follow him.

You enter what looks like an office, with books and loose papers littering a desk and stacked on shelves shabbily. Dean picks a journal that was leather-bound and flipped through the pages.

"That looks a hell of a lot like Dad's," Sam says as he looks at the journal over Dean's shoulder.

"Except this dates back to the '60s," Dean says while flipping the page.

You frown and look around the room, keeping your flashlight up.

Who was Daniel Elkins? And why did he sound so familiar? It was like deja vu.

"Let's go check upstairs," Sam says from behind you, and you nod as you follow them up the stairs, the wooden boards creaking in protest.

The boys walk into the room first and you follow, turning around to see if any creepy-ass thing was following you guys.

The first thing you noticed when you walked into the room was the broken skylight. You had always wanted one. There was some sort of magic in sitting inside your house and being able to look at the stars shining in the night sky. But this skylight was broken, with shards of glass sticking out from the frame.

The floor was littered with the glass and broken shelves with books.

A large dresser was tipped onto its side and a broken lamp lay in the center of the room. You smell something rotten with a hint of iron; something like dried blood. The blood splattered on the carpet and books made you pale a bit.

"Whatever attacked, looks like there was more than one," Sam says while eyeing the skylight.

"Looks like he put up a hell of a fight, too," Dean says as he looks at the clutter in the room.

"Got something?" Sam asks as he walks over the older Winchester.

Dean bends down to brush his fingers over some scratches on the flooring. "I don't know. Some scratches in the floor."

Dean glances up at the desk and grabs a paper and pencil while you look on, biting the inside of your cheek, your mind tugging for an explanation. It was like your brain was itching and you could do nothing to stop it.

"You fine?" Sam asks as he walks over to stand beside you, while Dean placed the paper on the scratches and angles the pencil to start shading on the paper.

You turn away from Dean and give Sam a small smile. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine."

You walk over to Dean, curious to see whether the scratches formed a clue.

"A message," Dean says as he looks at the paper. "Look familiar?" Dean asks as he hands the sheet to Sam.

"Three letters, six digits- the location and combination of a post office box," Sam says. "It's a mail drop."

"Just the way Dad does it," Dean says.

"A mail drop?" You ask.

"Yeah, like they leave something in the mailbox-"

"I know what it is, Sam," you say and recieve a sheepish smile from him. "It's just that I've only read it in books."

"Yeah, well, that's our dad for you," Sam says, receiving a frown from Dean.

"Yeah, right," you pause. "What are we waiting for? We have mail."

~~

"J.W? You think, John Winchester?" Sam asks uncertainly.

Deam held the unopened envelope from the post office box in his hand, eyeing it.

"I don't know," Dean sighs, glancing up to look at you and Sam. "Should we open it?"

Someone knocks on Dean's window and you jump slightly, like Dean who gasps too. He looks at the man who knocked with wide eyes. "Dad?"

Sam leans towards Dean's window to look at their father with wide eyes.

John opens the backseat's door and slides in wordlessly; you move out of the way, quite shocked to see the man. The last time you had seen him was when that shadow creature hurt you.

Why was he here?

Your mind goes back to what your dad said.

John Winchester is a dangerous man. You frown slightly at the man smiling at his sons.

"Dad, what are you doing here? Are you all right?" Sam asks, urgency and worry marking his voice. John shuts the car door.

"Yeah, I'm okay," the eldest Winchester answers with a small nod. His voice was a bit breathless. "I read the news about Daniel. I got here as fast as I could." He takes a breath as he glances at you for the first time but turns back. "I saw you three up at his place."

"Why didn't you come in, Dad?" Sam asks, sounding innocent like a small child.

"You know why," John replies. "Because I had to make sure you weren't followed by anyone...or anything," he adds. "Nice job of covering your tracks, by the way."

"Yeah, well, we learned from the best," Dean says with a small smile, taking in the compliment.

You felt awkward; you had a feeling that John didn't like you very much.

"Wait, so you came all the way out here for this Elkins guy?" Sam asks, squinting slightly.

"Yeah," John replies. "He was- he was a good man. He taught me a hell of a lot about hunting."

Your frown softens when you realize how distraught John must've been after his wife's death, not knowing what to do.

"You never mentioned him to us," Sam says, slightly offended.

"We had a," John hesitates. "We had kind of a falling out. I hadn't seen him years."

"I should probably look at that," John says after a brief silence passes over the Impala.

Dean hands his father the envelope. John clears his throat as he rips the envelope open and unfolds the letter. "If you're reading this, I'm already dead."

You suddenly felt remorse for a man you had never met. Still, you remind yourself, he was a person. You should feel remorse whether you knew him or not.

"That son of a bitch," John mutters.

"What is it?" Dean asks.

"He had it the whole time," John replies. You look toward Sam, hoping to see recognition on his face. But when you see his confusion, it was clear that no one except for John knew what it was.

"Had what?" Sam asked curiously, glancing at you.

"When you searched the place, did you see a gun, an antique, a Colt revolver? Did you see it?" John asks frantically and quite harshly. You widen your eyes at his tone.

"Uh, there was this old case but it was empty," Dean says, slightly confused.

"They have it," John says, looking away in frustration and annoyance.

"You mean whatever killed Elkins has it?" You ask, blushing slightly when John turns to you, annoyance still evident on his face.

"We got to pick up their trail," John says, answering you. He suddenly exits the car to head to his truck; you remembered seeing it outside the motel in Chicago.

"Wait," Sam raises his voice. John reappears in Dean's open window. "You want us to come with you?"

"If Elkins is telling the truth, we've got to find this gun," John says.

"The gun? Why?" Sam asks the question in your mind too.

"Because it's important, that's why," John replies rudely.

"Dad, we don't even know what these things are yet," Sam reasons with his dad; you weren't sure if he was genuinely curious or was just irritated that his dad wasn't telling them the whole thing.

"They were what Danny Elkins killed best," John says.

After looking at each other with confusion, John speaks. "Vampires."

"A vampire bit me when I was in Minnesota," you say offhandedly.

"A vampire bit you?" John asks, surprise, and disgust in his voice.

"Yeah," you say, your heart thudding in your chest. You look down, feeling ashamed.

Ashamed?!

You had never cared what people said about you most times, but there was something about John that made you want to be perfect; so that he couldn't point out your flaws and give you that look of disgust.

"You never mentioned them, Dad," Sam says, trying to divert John's attention from you.

After glancing at you one last time, the Winchester shakes his head. "I thought they were extinct. I thought Elkins and others had wiped them out."

Apparently not. And I have a scar to prove that.

John pauses, his eyes meeting the ground. "I was wrong," he admits, bringing his eyes up to look at Sam and Dean.

~~

Dean's P.O.V.

Dean couldn't help feeling excited at his dad being back. So what if he only came for his friend and not his sons? He still came. Dean knew to work with what he had.

In the motel room, John quickly shut the door, not letting Y/n enter to discuss the case. Dean had found it strange but John wouldn't have done it for no reason.

"Who's she?" John asks, looking at his sons.

"Who's who?" Sam asks cluelessly and Dean knew that his brother knew who their father was talking about.

"The girl," John almost growls.

"She's our friend, Dad," Dean says, not wanting to see his brother and John get into a fight.

"Your friend? Is she even a hunter?"

"No, she's not but-"

"No 'but's, Dean," John says as he walks over to the window. "I'm going to find this gun and I can't have anyone jeopardizing my chances at getting it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asks, narrowing his eyes at his dad.

John turns around to face the youngest Winchester. "I mean that I won't have an amateur ruin my chances of getting this gun!" He raises his voice and Dean awkwardly looks on as his father and brother fought.

"You just said the same damn thing!"

"I don't get why you're defending that girl! She obviously doesn't have any training."

"That girl's name is Y/n," Sam states coldly.

"Thing is, I saw how you took care of her before, how you looked at her. I don't get why you're dragging her into this," John says.

"What-"

"Y/n looks like she doesn't have a day of training, if I'm right," John says and turns to Dean, asking for confirmation. Dean bites the inside of his cheek, not wanting to answer and make things worse. "She will not be able to fend herself when we go after those vampires!"

"She can fend for herself," Sam says, his voice rising.

"Sammy," Dean interrupts his dad and the two of them look at him. "Maybe, Dad's right on this one."

Sam's eyes narrow as his mouth hangs open. "Dean, you know Y/n! Tell Dad she can take care of herself."

"Sammy, we're taking down vampires. Something that could've killed her in Minnesota. She probably doesn't want to do it, too."

It did hurt Dean to leave Y/n behind. She was like a sister to him, he had realized and was quite surprised at that too.

"But, we can't leave her here," Dean adds in after looking at his brother's snare at him and John. "We can send her to the pastor or to Caleb so we know that she'll be safe."

"I can call Caleb up right now," John says, calming down slightly and turning to Sam.

Sam chuckles humourlessly and shakes his head as the two of them look at him. "She's going to insist on coming. If we weren't able to convince her before, we wouldn't be able to now."

~

Y/n' P.O.V.

"Okay," you say and look at John standing across you.

"What?!" Sam exclaims. "Y/n, you're-"

"Sam, I get it. I'm not a hunter and I would just put your lives in danger. It's okay," you nod at him and give a small smile.

"Go to this address," John hands you a piece of paper.

You take it while frowning. "I thought I could just stay here in the motel?"

"No," John says impatiently and glances at Sam. "It's not safe here. For all we know, one of the vampires come back here and kill you." Your eyes widen.

"It's highly unlikely but better safe than sorry," Dean adds.

You nod a bit and look down at the address.

"It's a hunter's address. Name's Caleb. I trust him," John nods. "So, you can too."

"Yeah, thank you," you say as you stuff the paper in your pocket. You look at Sam who kept his eyes trained forward with his jaw clenched.

"I guess I'll get packing now," you say after sharing a look with Dean.

"We can't waste time," John says, nods at Dean, and turns around to walk out of the room.

Dean glances at his brother before looking at you and speaking in a low voice. "You'll be safe, I promise. And after we're done, we'll come get you." He envelopes you into a hug.

You pull back with a smile. "Thanks."

Dean follows his dad out of the room.

You sigh before glancing up at Sam.

"Seriously?" He asks and looks down at you, his chin jutting out and eyes squinted.

"What?" You ask and turn around to walk over to your bag. By the sound of his shoes hitting the ground, you assume that he's following you.

"You just say 'okay'? No question, nothing?" His voice was getting louder with every word.

You turn around and almost bump into Sam who was standing right behind you. You frown and move aside to grab your scattered clothes off the bed.

"Your dad is right," you say vaguely.

"I know he's right!"

You turn to look at Sam. "But that's unlike you. No questions asked."

"I'm sorry if I don't want to die because a vampire drained my blood," you say sarcastically.

"You would never do anything without a fight," Sam says and it almost sounds like an insult.

"You know why I'm going?" You turn to Sam, your anger making you speak louder than you would've liked. "Because I can't help but feel useless when I'm on these hunts with you and Dean. I'm just another person to worry about and to bring along and I don't think you guys need that," you pause. "I'll go to that hunter's home even though I'm wary of it. But I carry a Swiss Army knife- in case that guy's a pervert." You pause again and look down, speaking softly. "And after this is done, after I know that you're safe, I don't think I'll come back."

"What?" Sam's voice cracks and your heart tightens in your chest as you keep your eyes trained down.

Before you can explain yourself, Sam speaks again. "How long?"

You look up with a frown. "'How long' what?"

"How long have you felt that way?" Sam asks. "Felt that you're useless."

"Since I first joined you guys," you say silently while looking at him.

His eyes shine in the motel room's dull light. He brings his hands up to grab his hair and turns away from you. "God! I'm such an idiot!"

"Sam..."

He turns back, his lips quivering slightly and his eyes watery. "No, it's all my fault." He quickly covers the distance between the two of you with three quick strides and places his hands on your shoulders. "Y/n, you're an idiot."

"Sam, think about it. I'm not a hunter. I will be of no help to you, Dean, or your dad," you sigh.

"Yes, you are! You are helpful! The only reason that I'm still hunting is because of you," he says.

"What do you mean?"

"Seeing your determination to find that demon- hell, I want to find it too but you? You stayed on the road for almost a year to avenge Jessica's death."

"Don't patronize me," you grunt.

"You're not useless," he says and his eyes flick to your lips.

"Sam, I don't-"

He cuts you off by capturing your lips with his. Your eyes widen in surprise but flutter shut as you bring your arms up to his shoulders and ease into the kiss. You taste the sugary syrup of the apple pie you guys had eaten before getting the mail.

His hand comes up to cup your face, to somehow try to bring you closer to him; his other one gripping your hip.

It was like a weight being lifted off your chest and a feeling blooming from it. You felt at ease, the one thing that you craved for was happening.

He kisses you softly at first, but it quickly turns into a desperate one as he swipes his tongue against your lip. You open your mouth and he pushes in, eliciting a soft moan from you. You pull back slightly for air, and Sam moves ahead slightly, trying to chase your lips again. You take in a deep breath as Sam stares down at you, his forehead still against yours.

You needed to know if it was real, not your imagination, not a dream.

"Sam," you breathe out and look up at his darkened eyes. His lips were pink and so were his cheeks.

He chuckles softly at your widened eyes and parted lips.

You close your eyes as you feel his body vibrate next to yours with his laugh. You smile as you lick your lip.

You hear the click of the door opening and Sam pulls back to see who was there; his hands still remained on your cheek and hip. You turned to face Dean standing at the doorway.

"Not again," he groans.

You pull back from Sam, ignoring his look of protest. You pull your tank top down and straighten out your flannel.

"I'm almost done packing," you say with a small smile and turn around, pretending as if the kiss never happened.

"I can come back," Dean mutters.

"No, no. That's fine," you say and turn back from folding your clothes. You turn to Sam who looked at you with his mouth hanging slightly. "Sam, go. Your dad's probably waiting for you."

He squints in confusion and takes a step towards you. "Y/n, what?"

You place your hand on his arm, looking up at him. "I need you to not die, please," you say sternly. "And once you come back, we'll talk about this."

Sam looks down at you, slightly hesitating. You get it. It's not like you gave him any reason for him to trust you wouldn't turn around and tell him this meant nothing. You two always had stolen moments but this was something big. This cemented whatever was going on between the two of you.

Sam hesitates again, clearly not wanting to speak in front of Dean. "You promise," he finally settles on, his eyes darting between yours.

"Yes," you chuckle softly and go up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

"Go," you say as you walk towards your bag that lay on the other bed.

With one final lingering look at you, Sam walks out and Dean gives you a 'I-told-you-so' look. You groan and pick up the pillow on the bed to throw it at him but he's already closed the door by the time the pillow lands.

~~~

You knock on the door as your left shoulder shouts in agony of bearing the weight of your duffel bag for so long. You swing the bag onto your right shoulder, in the process brushing your finger over the lump caused by your Swiss Army knife in your left pocket.

You had left the motel in the night and after a five-hour bus ride, you had reached the address scribbled down by John on the paper. It was about ten in the morning; you had stopped for breakfast at a diner.

The door is opened by a bald man with wrinkles and who looked in his fifties.

"Hey, my name is Y/n Y/l/n," you say as you extend your hand forward, your eyes slyly darting to behind the man to see the interior of the house.

"Caleb," he grunts and walks into the house. You enter uncertainly and close the door behind you.

What are you doing? This man could kill you!

"John called me up," he says. "Said that you needed to stay here for a while."

You nod when he turns back to look at you. "Yeah."

He walks to the back of the house and opens a door. "You'll be staying here."

You walk into the room. It was surprisingly clean unlike the rest of the house that was messy and scattered with books and weapons.

"You a hunter?" Caleb asks with a raised eyebrow.

"Uh, not really," you say. "But I can defend myself," you add in, in case the man got any ideas.

He chuckles slightly. "I can teach you."

"What?" You ask as you keep your duffel bag on the bed and turn to face the man who stood at the room's door.

"Teach you how to be a hunter," he says.

You smile. "Thanks."

"So, who'd you lose?" He asks.

"What?"

"Everyone's brought into this life for a reason. Who's death made you a hunter?"

You purse your lips as you think of Jessica. "My friend. Jessica Moore."

He nods, frowning a bit.

"What?"

"I just thought that you'd have a more profound relationship with the person who died," he says truthfully. "Don't take me wrong but friends come and go."

It took every part of your will power to not take your Swiss Army knife out and stab the man. "Yeah, well, she was an amazing human being. And I think that her death should be avenged."

He nods. "Training at five?"

[End of Episode 20| Dead man's blood]