Stranger

Chapter 8

"You guys got room for three more?" Dean asks as the three climb out of the car.

"Wait, you wanna come with us?" Haley asks.

"Who are these guys?" The man, who Nevaeh hasn't met before, says.

"Apparently, this is all the Park Service could muster up for the search," the girl says, and Nevaeh grins. Sassy. I like this girl.

"You're rangers?"

"That's right," Nevaeh answers the man. He gives her a quick and dismissive once over, and she throws a confused smile his way.

"And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?" Haley asks Dean. Nevaeh turns to him. Then she turns to Haley. "They make him feel less masculine." She ridicules which earns a chuckle from Haley.

Dean glares at Nevaeh, who takes off walking following after Sam, and then looks down at his pants. "Well, sweetheart, I don't do shorts," he says and starts walking past Haley, following after Nevaeh.

"Hey, Sam-ster," she says, finally catching up with his long strides, and he offers a small smile, slowing down a bit. He offers her water. She shakes her head and pats her bag. "Already got some."

She sighs as they both walk in silence for just a bit. As mich as she wants to boost his spirits, she's also afraid of saying the wrong thing. She doesn't want to bring up Jess just yet. Instead, she looks down at her shoes. "Man, I need hiking boots."

She hears Dean's faint voice grow as everyone else begins to gain up on them.

"Excuse me," the man says, grabbing on to Nevaeh's backpack and stopping her in her tracks. Her breath catches as she looks back at the man, thankful that her reflexes hadn't made her kick the man in his shin.

"You're excused," Nevaeh frowns as he steps in front of her. She looks up at Sam, whose jaw muscle is ticking from being clamped shut. His eyes are still trained on the man, glaring. Clearly, she isn't the only one who isn't particularly fond of the way the man had grabbed her.

"Who's he supposed to be?" Nevaeh asks, and starts walking. What the hell is his problem?

"He's supposed to be a professional guide. Obviously, the title has gotten to his head," Sam scoffs.

"Hey, mister," Nevaeh calls after him.

"Roy," he corrects.

"Well, Roy," she jeers, her voice just a tad bit condescending. "So, you said you did a little hunting."

"Yeah, more than a little."

"Uh-huh. What kind of furry critters do you hunt?"

"Mostly bucks, sometimes bear."

The corner of her lip curls, taunting. "Tell me, Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?" She steps over a log, and the man grips her bag aggressively, pulling her back again. Now that's really starting to piss her off. Even as the man stares her down, her taunting grin doesn't waver. Her head tilts, her eyes squinted. If anything, the grin becomes even more taunting, almost challenging. Sam and Dean, on the other hand, aren't grinning. Their expressions are mirrored, clenched jaws, eyes narrowed, and bodies tense and rigid.

"What'cha doing, Roy?" She asks, not breaking eye contact.

He finally lets her bag go, and bends down, her eyes following him as he jams a stick into the bear trap where, in an alternate universe, her left leg would be trapped between.

"Helping you out, little girl," he snarls and at that moment, her expression contorts into something bile. Little girl. She hates those words. "You should watch where you're steppin'."