Nobody's Home

For the majority of my life, I've survived on my instincts. This forced me to walk away from things like a boyfriend, family and even most of my friends. I've made difficult decisions in my life and I've done them for the best of those I love, even if they don't think so. And my life, is the price I have to pay.

I passed the sign reading Welcome to Nebraska at least ninety miles per hour. Rock of Ages was blaring from the speakers of the black Cadillac and I was singing along with pride. Honestly, I was twenty-six and I had nothing else to live for but Metallica, Def Leppard, AC-DC, and Lynyrd Skynyrd. Being a hunter wasn't exactly easy, but it wasn't hard either. You live to kill monsters, eat pie, and sleep.

The song died out and I Love Rock N Roll came on.

"Fuck yeah!" I reached over, turning it up and singing along.

I'd been traveling for at least six and a half hours, which meant I should only have about half an hour until I reached the Roadhouse, which also meant that there wouldn't be much time before I could finally sleep. Lord, the thought taunted me. I'd just worked a case in Colorado, near my parents' home. Just a regular spirit.

I was alone, for now at least. When I got to the Roadhouse, Ellen and Jo would probably play a drinking game with me, and it would most likely be who could drink more, and I would probably win. Ellen was like my mother, and has been since my real mother's death by a demon. Jo was my little sister, the one I always wanted (and want) to protect. Ash was...well...Ash. The Harvelle's were my family, and the only bit of it I had left since John decided to die on me. Yeah, John Winchester had been my stand-in-father though he was (had been) a bit of a deadbeat dad. He'd been the one to find me alone in my house, unconscious, and among the burning flames of my house. Ellen and Jo were my main reasons for living; I had nothing left but them. Okay, that's not true. There was Bobby, Rufus and I might consider Dean in there somewhere. Me and Dean just had the occasional one-night stand; nothing emotional...really. Both of us acted as though there wasn't a connection, and there wasn't. Yeah, complete contradiction I know; I don't care. I was a hunter and that meant I couldn't have somebody's, because that meant that those I loved could hurt. In my life, there was nobodies and slaughtering the sons-of-bitches that escaped Hell. Fear of death never was present in my life and I almost pray for every night when I'm alone. But that's the life of a hunter, and that's the price I pay for protecting those I love.

Two hours later, I arrived at the Roadhouse (later than I expected), but hey, you can't always get what you want. I shut the door to my black Cadillac, my dark eyes looking over the slightly burning neon sign of Harvelle Roadhouse. I slowly walked up the steps, memories of my childhood taking root as I did so. My mother had tried to keep me from the hunter life, but my father was so badly involved in it that I'd learned to shoot a shotgun by the time I was six. My mother was a very good friend of Ellen and Jo's and I actually grew up with Jo, despite my mother's attempts to keep me rooted in Colorado than in Nebraska. I only partially remember Bill Harvelle, maybe a smile here or a hug there, and he died when Jo was in pig-tails and I was in jeans (around the time I was thirteen). In the same year, I lost my parents to a demon and nearly died in the fire he enveloped my house in. Before you ask, no, it wasn't Yellow Eyes. By the time I was sixteen, I'd become a full-fledged hunter, and I was staying with Bobby at his Salvage Yard. I was an emotional wreck, though I was no better now (I refused to acknowledge this). I'd met Dean at eighteen and known him a year before we eventually had sex, the result of which was more emotional turmoil. Of course, I'd been naïve enough to believe that he'd be there when I woke up in that cheap hotel. I grew tougher, and stronger, and I became accustomed to the "hunter's life".

The following year I'd meet Travis, whom I saved from a werewolf, and one thing lead to another, we ended up having sex before eventually dating. He didn't like my life as a hunter, but he believed I "needed love so badly I couldn't handle to force myself into it". He thought I was damaged and in need of mending. In truth, he'd been beyond right. I was damaged and in need of mending, but I wouldn't find that anywhere. Even now, Travis's smile and support was bittersweet. Yeah, he died, to the same werewolf I'd thought I'd killed. He died and it was all my fault. Of course, I wasn't able to catch it before it left town. Two years later, when I was twenty-five, I teamed up with Dean and John and killed it, though this was the last time I saw John before he gave up his life to bring Dean out of his comatose. I'd only been there for half of it, and I didn't even tell Dean I was there. Hell, Sammy didn't even know I was. John was the only one who knew I was there, and he didn't mention it.

I was twenty-seven now, so that was..two years ago. I'd recovered faster than Bobby had expected, upon receiving the news of John's death from Rufus. I had been mad at Dean for not calling me or even coming to Bobby's to tell me about it, but I realized it'd probably been too painful for him to do; watching me fall apart. Either way, I was fine..

I pushed the door open and was surprised at the emptiness of the bar. There were two familiar faces at the bar, but for the most part, no-one.

"What the hell? You guys close earlier, or somethin'?" I asked, bringing attention to myself. Jo looked up and grinned, while Ellen smirked. Jo came running and quickly hugged me.

"You just couldn't stay away from us, could ya?" She teased, releasing me.

"Nah, I felt the need to, uh, bug you some more."

"Glad you came, baby." Ellen said from behind her, walking over to embrace me. I felt a sense of relief rush over me as she did and I embraced her back, secretly feeling nostalgic.

"If it ain't Maxie." The annoying nickname canceled out the husky voice that spoke it as Ellen released me and went to grab me a beer while Jo went to pick a song on the jukebox. I glared Dean down as he just smirked at my annoyed expression.

"Its Max, not Maxie or even Maximum." I said pointedly. Sam pushed past Dean, rolling his eyes at the playful cold attitudes me and Dean had towards each other and hugged me, the cast on his arm a bit uncomfy.

"Geez, Sammy, what did you do to your arm?" I asked as he released me and Dean just nodded at me; his way of welcoming me.

"I broke it."

"Well, duh! Nevermind, Sammy." I could see the pain creeping into his brown eyes, obviously in remembrance of their father, and so I decided to drop the subject, taking the beer from Ellen and downing it quickly and asking for another.

"You better pay for that." Jo called.

"Don't worry, I will." I winked in Dean's direction before walking off to the bar, and sitting down, Ellen already pouring the Jack Daniels' into the starter twenty shot-glasses. This was going to be good..