Dawson's Daughter | {BOOK 1}

2|The Brothers Return

Everyone my father had ever helped both in town and in the hunting community attended the wake. The hunters stuck around for the salting and burning of the body the next day. I was numb to both. I took over running the shop, both the hardware store up front, and the hunter's selection in the back. I had never been allowed to help in the back of the shop before. But with my dad gone, someone had to take care of it. Years passed, and it got easier and easier.

I still got the occasional condolence from either civilians or hunters who came in and hadn't heard the news yet, but they got fewer and fewer as I got older. It became easier to smile and service those who came into the shop every day. Like my father, I made it a point to talk to and get to know every single person who walked through the front door. It was a chilly day in mid-November a few days before my birthday, when I got two vaguely familiar customers. I was talking to a civilian, one of the regulars who came in to buy some nails for a project when they walked through the door.

"I'll be with you in a moment," I called, not really paying attention fully at first.

"Take your time, Sweetheart," one of them said.

I froze up at the sound of the voice. Something about it was so familiar. Glancing away from Gary, I moved my gaze to look at the duo who had just entered the shop. They were turned away from me, seemingly browsing the shelves. They were both extremely tall, easily over 6 feet, with one a few inches taller than the other. The taller was a bit lankier, with a messy mop of brown hair on top of his head and hunched shoulders, as if he was trying to seem shorter and less intimidating than he was. The shorter had cropped brown hair and was a bit more butch than his taller companion. They both wore jeans, and three layers on top: t-shirt, flannel then a jacket and both completed the outfit with pairs of hunting boots.

They were clearly hunters, not just normal civilians. Their identities were solidified in my mind when I glanced out the window at the parking lot. There, in mint condition, was a familiar black Impala. My heart thudded in my chest as I forced my attention back on Gary.

"Will that be all for you, then?" I asked, willing my voice to remain even.

"Yes," Gary nodded as I rang him up.

"Six nineteen," I informed him, glancing briefly back over at the two hunters.

The shorter one was looking at me and our eyes met for a moment before I tore my gaze away, feeling my cheeks heat up slightly. I knew those eyes. Those eyes haunted my dreams. The eyes of Dean Winchester. I wished Gary a good day and he left the shop, which meant the only people other than me in the shop were Sam and Dean Winchester.

"Can I help you boys?" I inquired, forcing myself not to give away that I recognized them.

"We were actually hoping to speak with James Dawson," Dean replied.

"He's dead."

The reaction was immediate. Sam's shoulders slumped even more- if that was possible- and he got a sad look in his deep brown eyes. Dean, however, seemed to tense up for the briefest of moments before going back to his cocky, calm demeaner, candy apple green eyes not giving anything away.

"May we ask what happened?" Sam asked me.

"Hunting accident, not that it's any of your business," I responded coldly. "Now, if you boys aren't going to buy anything, I suggest you leave. We only accept paying customers here."

"That's not how I remember it," Dean smirked. "I seem to recall James being friendly to everyone who walked through that door."

"Yeah, well, James isn't here any more, is he? New management, new rules."

I didn't know any reason for acting the way I was toward the two, other than the fact that the last time I saw them, their father fought with mine and then I never saw them again.

"Really? Because it sounded to me that you were getting the full run-down of Gary's personal life when we came in."

I opened my mouth to form another witty comeback for Dean when Sam cut in again.

"What about his daughter?"

"Excuse me?"

"James had a daughter, Eleanor. What happened to her?"

I had to fight to keep the shock from registering on my face. If Sam was asking me that, it meant that they hadn't recognized me like I had them. I didn't know if I felt more relieved or sad about it.

"I, uh, I'm not sure," I stammered out finally.

"Really?" Dean raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't you have had to go through her to acquire this place if her father died?"

"Actually, I went through an agency to get this place," I lied smoothly. "I never interacted with any member of the Dawson family during the process."

"What agency?"

"Why do you care so much?"

"Look, not that it matters to you, but we really need to speak to her. It's important."

"Well, if it really is that important, I'm sure you'll figure something out. Now, get out of my store before I call the cops."

"Alright, let's not get hasty," Dean reasoned, holding his hands out in a gesture of surrender. "If you could just tell us what agency sold you the place so we could track her down, that'd be great."

"Dean, let's just get out of here," Sam said quietly to his brother. "She's obviously not going to help us."

"Yeah, Dean, why don't you listen to your buddy there?" I quipped, glaring at the elder Winchester.

"Not until you give us that name."

"Why the hell do you need to find this girl so badly?"

"Told you, it's important."

"Important how?"

"We need help finding our father, not that it's any of your business," Dean echoed my words from earlier.

"You don't know where your father is?"

"Again, not your business, but yes."

Both boys started to make their way toward the door, stepping aside to let another customer who was entering the store past.

"Hey, Ellie," the customer, Max, greeted me. "How's it going?"

My heart dropped in my chest as both brothers froze halfway out the door. They slowly turned back to stare at me as I talked with Max.

"Hi, Max. Not much. How're the kids?" 

"They're good," Max smiled. "Bit of a handful as always."

I chuckled with him, avoiding Sam and Dean's intense stares. After a few minutes, Max exited with a bag of supplies in hand. Sam and Dean were still hovering near the door.

"Let's try this again, shall we?" Dean said finally, stepping forward.