The Helpers | No One.

27 1 10
                                    

Date: 07.19.2022.
Prompt: You call Bobby, asking for help, and he sends the two brothers.  They are judgmental at first but grow to like you somewhat.
Trigger [Warning]: You'll be dressing femininely and brightly; heavy curing; mention of father's death, being held at knife point, blood, a scar.
Another request by pixelfrogs!! (Let me know if you want me to change anything!!)
Words: 2609.
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Minding you own business, you took a nest of Vampires out. Easy, simple, quick- you've handled worse. Wiping the blood from the sword you used on a rag, you groaned, noticing the blood on your only, and favorite pair, of yellow overalls. You looked at the body of the Vampire's whose blood it was, momentarily wanting to stab it, before sighing and turn away.

"That'll just cause more blood to get on you, (Y/N)," You muttered to yourself, shoving your intrusive thoughts away. You slipped your sword into the hostler on your back, stepping over the body and leaving the house the Vampires held resident in. Humming a song from some movie you watched the other today, you walked home, telling people who asked that the stain was ketchup and how you weren't going to wear yellow anymore.

Upon reaching your motel room, you pause. You looked at the red door with squinted eyes. Something felt wrong but when you tried the door handle, it was still locked. Going in, you checked everywhere and found nothing; no sulfur, no hex bags, no tracking devices, no anything. You grabbed your bag and dug through it, finding a new outfit for after your shower.

"Bobby, I need your help." Those simple words were enough to make Bobby Singer call the two best hunters he knows. You never asked for help, but Bobby knew you were serious when he heard your voice break over the phone.

"This is a child!" Dean exclaimed to Bobby on the phone, having met up with you.

"They are sixteen, Dean," Sam said, knowing that you were still young but definitely not a child.

"Same thing, Sam. Why are you letting them hunt, Bobby?" Dean asked, looking at you as you sat in the back of the Impala with your duffle bag of stuff next to you.

"I'm not letting them do jack squat, boy. They chose to hunt, just as you two did. Now,  you better start practicing how to help cause you're gonna need that skill." Bobby hung up on Dean, sighing.

"Look at what they are wearing, Sam. That is a child." Sam looked at you. You had a yellow tutu skirt on with a white collared shirt tucked into it and a cropped sweater vest overtop it. Sam could see your knee-highs pick out from behind the middle seat in the front, your knees to your chest. "God, why are we always handed the shit jobs?"

"I don't know, Dean, but Bobby said they sounded scared shitless over the phone, so maybe it's worth it," Sam said, shrugging and walking to the car. He slid into the front seat, turning to look back at you. "Now, Bobby didn't tell us exactly what you had going on, so do you mind me asking what we're helping you on?"

"Uh, yeah- here," You mumbled, handing him the note you had found on the table in your motel room after you left the shower. Sam stared at you for a moment longer before turning to the note right as Dean slipped into the car too.

"Now, (F/N), you should have known I would found out it was you who slaughter my children. You best watch your back, dear, for I will be coming back. For now, you enjoy your shower and let people know about that tattoo on your lower back for me; it is my name after all. -Regards, A.V." Sam read the note, "Who's 'A.V.' and what do they mean?"

"Well, they only things I've slaughter today and yesterday were Vampires, and that's the only thing close enough to be children that I kill," You started, "So, assuming here, I would say it's the Alpha Vampire."

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