Hunter Unknown

Game Over

   For once I hadn't a clue as to what I was going to do. Should I play innocent or come clean? After all these years I just can't see myself spilling my guts to them.  Everything I've learned, the things I've seen, the truth, there's no way.  My plan? I'll figure it out, play it by ear.

   

So I stayed still, frozen just as commanded. 

"Ya know you almost got away." Dean said to me with an annoyed look at Sam.  "You could have been on your way to another town ripping out hearts all along the way." He continued with a short sarcastic chuckle. 

"Um..okay you crazy ass stalker?" I guess my mouth had a plan of its own. 

"Stalker isn't exactly the right term...I'd say tracker..hunter is more like it."

Looking toward Sam I questioned, "Has he skipped his meds? Seriously, are you just going to stand there with that stupid look on your face while he tries to kill me or..."

      I could see the confusion in Sam's eyes.  He seemed concerned about Dean's decisions and I knew I could play off of that.  Dean threw a serious look at Sam, the two speaking without words.  I knew Sam was torn but it would not be easy to convince him Dean was wrong about me.  From what I knew about them, their loyalty to each other was beyond imagination.

  

"Listen I'm just a traveler passing through" I said as I put my hands up in an 'I swear I'm innocent of whatever you're accusing me of' manner.  I could see the wheels turning in behind Sam's eyes. 

"Yeah, is that so? Well then, if you're just passing through why are you here? Because you certainly don't appear to be travelling. In fact, it looks like you're up to something in these shady ass woods" Dean sternly retorted.

Damn, he was smarter than I thought.

"Road trips are a killer...can't a girl have a little stretch, enjoy the fresh air?" As I said this I had to hold back the urge to wink. After ten years of riding solo, I have no communication skills; but it seems in the moment my mouth is a smartass son of a Bitch and  punny as well.

Dean let out a snort, clearly picking up on my earlier pun.  Sensing that the moment was quickly escalating, Sam wordlessly was able to take control from Dean.  To appease Dean's suspicions and give me a break, Sam made me comply to the "hunters test" as I call it.

Understanding fell upon Dean who said "Here catch!" And simultaneously threw a shining object into the air toward me.  My reflexes kicked in.  With little  effort and without thought, my arm extended up and slightly to the right. While my hand enclosed around the cold metal object that my brain quickly registered as a silver bullet.

Again my mouth, having a mind of its own, drew into a sly smirk.  The look on Dean's face was priceless. I could now see even more clearly as the beam eminating from his flashlight faultered slightly with his shock.

Once again my mouth replied before my brain could make proper calculations (a character flaw I would come to regret and loathe). "Eat your heart out." I ever so slyly replied with a bemused grin followed by a quick and nearly unnoticeable wink. Damn I have got to quit doing that. That was a great pun considering I had just ganked a werewolf, though.

"Drink this." Sam said through his own surprise as he tossed a container to me.

I knew. I knew it's contents all too well. Holy Water. But to continue with what became something of a mind-fuckery I instead caught it with an indignant reply "You expect me to consume some drink that two lunatic stalkers...sorry trackers or no 'hunters', have thrown at me in the middle of the fucking woods miles from civilization? I'll pass cupcake."

"Just put it on your hand then." Sam instructed clearly shaken.

"Yeah so it can be eaten off by acid? Ah no thanks."

"What are you?!" Dean demanded, finally recovered from his episode of dumbfoundedness.

Continuing this surprisingly amusing charade, "Last time I checked? About 135lbs., and just shy of 6ft." I retorted cooly.

If I didn't know any better I'd swear I saw Sam trying not to smirk, as Dean was clearly perturbed by my churlish attitude.  He hates not getting the respect he deserves, whether he realizes this or not, I knew it.

"Drop the act! I don't know what the hell you are, but I know that my gut tells me something's off here.  I don't think you realize who you are dealing with you sick sonovabitch, but the long pig barbeque it smells like you've been having here is over. One last time What. Are. You."

I don't know why exactly, but in that moment my facade shattered.  Something inside me broke, yet again. An all too familiar feeling washed over me.  A deep sadness. Loneliness. Heartache. It was over. In this moment I was the sheep coming to the slaughter.  I was laying my head down on the chopping block, surrendering.  Because I was done.

There is a difference between defeat and surrendering.  I surrendered not because I had no other option.  I could draw my gun and fight my way out. No, this was not defeat.  I was tired, broken, sick of the beating.  My missions, my hunts had become routine.  I was doing the only thing I knew how.  No longer did I feel like I had purpose. No longer did I want to fight the good fight, because from what I could tell there was no singular fight to be had.  Just a long and unending road of battles that I always came out of missing a piece of myself.

So in this moment I chose to surrender.