You're Mistaken (An Arthur Ketch fanfic)

Part 1

There was very little about Arthur Ketch that the old men of Kendrick's didn't know. They monitored everything he did. Every. Single. Move. Except one. Kendrick's had sent Arthur to America on a clean-up assignment several years ago. While he was there, Arthur would meet someone who would change his life in more than one unexpected way. You.

Visions of you flashed behind Arthur's tired eyes. Your (h/c) locks that ruffled in the light autumn breeze. The (e/c) eyes that had stared into his longingly. Longingly and Lovingly. That beautiful and charming smile that knocked Arthur for a loop the first time he saw it. Everything about you haunted Arthur Ketch.

It had been exactly twelve years since he last saw you. You had awakened something in him that he never thought possible, but when he had to leave you, he shut it away. He closed off his heart again and sped off on his motorcycle, knowing he'd undoubtedly never set eyes on you again. He would never feel your body pressed against his. Never feel your soft skin under his fingertips. Never have your lips caressing his ever again.

Opening his eyes, Arthur bit back a groan. "No use reopening old wounds," he muttered to himself. The self-scolding was useless and Arthur knew it. He was very well aware that the old wound caused by leaving you hadn't closed at all. It remained as fresh as the day he'd left you. He'd had no choice. The British Men of Letters had called him back. Had he refused, it would have put you in danger.

Yes, leaving had been for the best. After all, Arthur was a trained soldier for the British Men of Letters. Trained to kill on command without mercy or remorse. And you were a distraction. At least that's what Arthur tried to tell himself. Deep down, he knew it wasn't true though. What he'd had with you was the probably the closest thing Arthur would ever have to real love.

"Damn," he whispered, letting his thoughts drift back. He kicked himself for agreeing to return to America in the first place. The country had brought back too many memories of the one woman he cared about in the entire world. He only hoped he wouldn't see you this time around while he tried to recruit the American hunters with Mick.

"What's on your mind, mate?" Mick asked. Arthur blinked. "What makes you think there's something on my mind?" The two of them weren't exactly friends, but they weren't enemies either. Mick chuckled before bringing his tumbler of scotch to his lips. "You're staring off into the distance and you haven't touched your drink. Is it a woman? Mary Winchester perhaps?"

Arthur frowned. It was true that he'd been getting close to Mary over the past several months, but what he felt for her didn't even come close to the depth of feeling he had for you. Even sleeping with her hadn't worked to help him get over you. He had an inkling that nothing would ever come close.

Before Arthur could answer, the phone on Mick's desk rang. Mick put it on speaker and greeted the caller. "Mr. Davies, the Brothers Winchester are here. And they have a guest." Mick smiled and told the guard to send them in. After hanging up, Mick said, "Looks like we've got the Winchesters on our side after all."

Arthur stood when Sam and Dean entered the room. "Hello, gents," Mick greeted. Sam nodded, but Dean's eyes never left Arthur. "This kid's been looking for you," he told Arthur. Only then did Arthur and Mick see the young boy, no more than twelve, walking in behind the Winchesters. "Who are you and what do you want with me?"

The boy looked at Arthur and the older man froze. A pair of familiar (e/c) eyes were looking back at him. "You're Arthur Ketch?" For a moment, Arthur was actually speechless. That didn't happen often, Arthur being at a loss for words. The boy was still staring at him, so Arthur cleared his throat. "I am. What can I do for you?" The boy glanced down at his shoes for a second, then back up. "My name's Y/S/N. I'm your son."