My Winchester

Hunting for the Hunters

I crashed in my car in the mall parking lot that night. When I woke up, it was about eleven. I took all the cash I had saved for college and my parents stash and headed in. I bought four new sets of clothes, sleeping pills, and some food. Then, I loaded up my duffel bag and hit the road.

At first, I didn't know how to find them. They had been running from the police for months, so how was I supposed to find them? Then I remembered that slick old car. What was the license plate number? K-something?

"Hello, can I help you?" A man's voice came over the speaker.

"Yes, my son went on a road trip and lost his cell phone. I was wondering if you could tell me where he is?" I say in my most seductive voice.

"Do you know the plate number, ma'am?"

"I believe it started with a K, but I can tell you the car. It's a mint condition '67 Chevrolet Impala," I told him. I crossed my fingers.

I had to flirt for a few minutes more, but eventually the guy told me that the boys were in Colorado Springs. It was a long way, but I guess that's what you want when you're running from the law. So I drove and drove and drove until I was in the parking lot of a motel, telling myself to get it together.

I sat and watched the door for a long time. I don't know what I was waiting for. But I just sat there.

I fell asleep in my car until nightfall, exhausted from grief and driving. When it got late, I got out of the car and headed to the front desk of the motel. "Hi, my friends have a room here and I got held up in traffic. Can you tell me what room they're in and give me a key?" I asked the gentleman.

After I described Sam and Dean to him, he types around on his computer for awhile before reluctantly handing me a key to the room.

I stood in the hallway for a few seconds, working up the courage to go in. After checking for security cameras, I took out my shotgun.

I opened the door as quietly as I could. But when I took a step into the dark room and flipped on the switch, I had a pistol and a sawed off shot gun aimed at me. I freaked a little inside, but forced myself to keep a ruff exterior, because my gun was in Dean's face as well.

"Who are you, and why the hell are you here," Dean spits out with menace. I glare at him, thinking about my family.

My dead family.

And I think he had something to do with it.

"No, wait, Dean, this is the girl who's house we knocked down the door on," Sam mutters with a confused look on his face.

"Doesn't mean I won't shoot," I growl out, staring Dean down the whole time.

"Why are you here?" he asks, not lowering his gun.

"M-my family. My family is dead." The words tumble out of my mouth without any grace at all.

"What?" Sam said, eyes growing wide. I pause at his surprise. Maybe Sam doesn't know. Maybe Dean did it. "Why don't we put the guns down and talk about this."

"I'm not moving. You killed my family," I say.

"What the hell makes you think I did it?" Dean asks incredulously.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe the fact that you're on the run from the cops for killing a girl and you broke into my freaking house! I bet you killed that family down the street too!" I yelled, stepping closer to him. He eyed the barrel of my gun a little nervously.

"Hey, hey, let's put the guns down, alright? Killing each other isn't going to help us straighten this out," Sam tried to arbitrate. 

Dean looks at his brother, and I watch as they almost have a silent conversation. Dean looks back at me after a moment and grumbles a bit before slowly lowering his pistol.

I lowered my gun grudgingly, and Sam ushered all of us to sit at the kitchen table.

"You're family died?" Sam asked, a little bit of sympathy in his eyes.

"What? No! That's impossible. She has to be confused," Dean mutters, taking a flask from his jacket.

I glared at him until his face fell, "Unless.."

"No. Just no," Sam cut him off. I pressed a hand to my temples and laid my gun on my thigh. "Just, can you tell us what happened?"

I sigh before telling the story. "You guys knocked down my door saying shit about demons and nonsense. Then, a week later, I come home. And I find.." I take a deep breath. "My sister, her throat slit. Blood everywhere." My sweet sister, never hurt a fly.

"What about your parents?" Dean asked. I glared at him before saying, "Missing. Cars never moved, cell phones still at home."

The boys looked at each other and then at me. I felt like there was something seriously wrong with these boys. They were delusional, had to be.

But then again.. I couldn't get the image of my sister, laying on the ground, her throat slit multiple times, like she tried to fight. Blood was everywhere. Why would a murderer use a knife? The boys were obviously wealthy in guns. Why would he waste the time on her?

I eye the boys. "Look. There's something not right here and you're going to tell me, because I think you two might be the.. cause for all of this. Now, tell me everything, so you can help me find my parents."

Dean sighed and looked at Sam, who began telling me the story.

And boy, was it a big one.

I'm not sure what exactly I was expecting, but it sure wasn't that.

The boys waited silently after Sam finished, and I just sat there, staring at the table. I couldn't find words. I couldn't believe a demon had snuck into my house and ruined my family. These people were crazier than I thought. Surely, that was the answer. "Why would they take my parents instead of just killing them?" I ask.

Dean replies in a gentle voice now, "Our best guess is that it wants something from you. Can you think of any reason you would be different than another person?" I shake my head.

"The sun is rising. I think we should get moving," Sam says, and Dean looks over at him like he's crazy. "No, man, there's a case here," he replies.

"Well apparently you didn't finish the last one you started," I spit at him. I see guilt flash in his eyes for just a minute before he stands up, walking to his duffle bag.

"He has a point, though. We can't just ignore the people dying here," Sam says lightly, trying not to upset me.

The room is silent for a while until Dean speaks up again. "Why don't you stay here with her and work the case. I'll go back to her town, try to get some answers."

Sam nods, looking at me. "I would rather you go, to be honest," I mutter kind of quietly while I watch Dean pack his things. He stiffens a little as the words leave my mouth.

"Okay, then. I'll go," Sam says, walking to the bathroom to shower. "What?! No, man! You can't leave me here with her," Dean complains.

"It's your fault in the first place!" I barely hear Sam whisper yell to Dean. I stand up, feeling as if fire was burning through my vanes. I take the pen off the table, scribble that I'm going to a bar on the newspaper, and leave, slamming the door behind me.

I pull into the first bar I find. Slamming my car door, I run in taking a seat at the bar with the goal of getting drunk before the boys drag me back.