Return of a Hunter

Found

"Bri, can you get the water buckets today?" My boss, Reggie, asks me while I finish up feeding the horses.

"Yeah, sure." I toss the last of the hay bale and head back into the barn. The barn I work for is small and I'm the only early morning hand, which I hate, so I get all the mundane tasks such as water, hay, and stalls. So on and so forth until the men come in at nine. It's a much easier life than one of hunting. No, not animals, even though they are tasty. Monsters. Demons. Things that go bump in the night. That was my former job. I've been out for almost a year. The town I live in has a couple monsters that have chosen the straight and narrow path of not feeding off humans so I've left them to live their lives. I've taken more than my fair share of innocent blood. As long as they stay under the human radar, I stay off their backs. I'm even fairly close friends with a few of them.

As I'm taking buckets out and dumping them, I see two men I really don't want to see. So I fill the buckets back up and head in the opposite direction, quickly but calmly. Seeing the Winchesters can only mean bad news. I turn and corner and weave between stalls. It's easy to get turned around if you don't know exactly how to get out the other side.

"Brianna," a husky voice says my name like an old friend while a hand grabs my shoulder, spinning me around to face him.

"Dean freaking Winchester, what do I owe the unpleasant surprise?" I back away, placing my hands on my hips.

"We need your help Bri," Sam states clearly rounding the corner.

"I'm not a hunter anymore," I extend my arms. "This is my life now."

"We can't do this without you," Sam pleads.

"Why?" I snap. "The world has been pretty peaceful since Metatron was defeated."

Dean goes to roll up his sleeve, exchanging a calculated glance at Sam, before bringing it up to his elbow. "This is why Bri." The mark on is arm is red and ancient, the Mark of Cain.

"Shit Dean," I rub the bridge of my nose. "What the hell are you doing with that?!"

"Another time," Sam answers. Damnit Sam. Why can't he answer the question?

"We need help with Crowley."

I groan, "You want my favor."

"C'mon Bri, this thing needs to come off like yesterday." Dean's eyes hold up a wall, hiding how bad things really are. "Fine. I'll call him after work. I assume my help doesn't end there?" They shake their heads. I throw my arms in the air and return to work.

Later that night, I call Crowley's cell and before he picks up I'm instantly teleported to his throne room... In Hell.

"Yes sweetheart? Long time no see." He stands and greets me in the middle of the room, arms open in a welcoming way and a sly grin on his face. I hate when he calls me 'sweetheart'.

"Ya know, we could have just had a civil conversation over the phone." He waves his hand.

"Getting rid of this big of a favor deserves a face-to-face conversation." He waves for chairs to be brought over, thank god they're actually comfy. He also pours himself some scotch, he offers me Dr. Pepper and whiskey, much sweeter than Coke. I happily oblige, knowing full well that he's not that tacky to kill me here.

"What can I help you with, sweetheart?" He sits down, crossing his legs. "What may the King of Hell do for you?"

I lean on my knees, twirling the ice in my glass around while contemplating how to tell him. "The Winchesters," he flinches ever so slightly, just a twitch of his hand, "they want to get the Mark of Cain off Dean, which frankly is best for all of us. We need you to do some research outside of our morals."

"So they are still a thorn in my side. You're not telling me anymore than I already know." He takes a sips, waiting.

"Here's the catch," I take a big drink: Crowley knows me well enough that I'm 'emotionally compromised' as he's said in the past. "You need to talk to Lucifer in the cage."

"You're joking. Tell me you're joking."

"I wish I were. He's the only one who's been around long enough to know how to get rid of the Mark. Metatron was a bust cuz Dean..." I pause taking another big swig. "Well you can imagine."

"That's the inner circle of Hell. You realize how..."

"Crowley," I finish to drink. "You owe me."

"Curse the Winchesters."

"You took the words right out of my mouth." I wave my glass and he has someone refill it. After a couple of drinks and a lot of brooding silence, he teleports me home.

The Winchesters don't waste any time coming over after I return home, "Where have you been?" Dean snaps, basically bursting through my door.

"Getting your favor taken care of. Let yourself in why dontcha." Sam gives a sympathetic look as he shuffles in.

"I thought you were just going to call him," Dean growls.

"I did. He had other plans in mind," I flop down into my chair, waving my arm for them to sit. Sam takes up the offer but Dean remains standing. "Would you calm down? We had drinks while we chatted."

"You had drinks with Crowley?" Sam raised an eyebrow.

"Apparently I'm enough of a friend that drinks are complimentary," I shrug. We have a more complicated relationship than that actually.

"Friends?" Dean snaps. He takes two strides and he's hovering over me.

"Seriously?!" I pop up out of the chair, almost colliding with his chin. "Don't judge me on what enemies I keep close." I push him out of my personal space and walk into the kitchen with a huff. I hear muffled swears and curses. Dean must really be worried about this Mark to be snapping at me like this. It's not like we're strangers at all. We've teamed up on multiple hunts and we're both close to Bobby, them more than me but whatever. Bobby did do a great deal for me after my father past.

I'm making myself a light snack when Sam comes in quietly and slightly awkward. I turn my back so I can't see him from my peripheral. He sighs and moves to the other side, "Look," he clears his throat before continuing, "I know we're uprooting your life. We just... I just... Um you're needed in this fight."

I pause and put the silver butter knife down, turning to look at him, "I know. Just let me uproot my life in my way." He nods and takes a piece of my bagel. I glare at him but he gives me a sweet smile and I let it go. Sam soothes anything that Dean hits too hard.

I tell Reggie that I'm gonna be gone for two weeks, better to give more time than less. He's annoyed that I'll be gone but is still pretty cool with it. I pack my truck, making sure to take everything I need I case I don't come back. I don't have much anyway. Settling down always gets ruined for a hunter so it's best to keep it light when you have to up and move.

"I'll follow you," I say to Dean as Ihop into my truck. I turn back and look at my little cottage. I fear that thiswill be the last time I see it as I drive off behind the boys.