Hitching a Ride
Spoilers- Angel- Til the end but it assumes that Angel wasn't killed in the final fight. Supernatural- minute for Dead Man's Blood but is actually set before the episode
Disclaimer- these characters are the property of brilliant people by the names of Kripke and Whedon.
Note- The Stanford link. How could I resist?
Note2- This is unbeta'd and I didn't want to post it, but the pile of fics is starting to grow a little too large and I'm starting to forget which ones I've posted and which ones I haven't. All mistakes are my own and please feel free to point them out. I will replace this with the beta'd version as soon as I get it.
xxx
"Hey. I'm looking for a man. Looks nearly 30; he's bout this tall. Brown eyes, spiky brown hair and a caveman brow. Likes to wear a lot of black and goes by the name of Angel. Have you seen him around?"
Sam froze, the beer bottle in his hand held centimeters from his lips. No way. That voice should not be familiar.
"Might have. Who's lookin' for him?"
"I'm his son. He was supposed to meet me in Denver last week, but he didn't show. Last I heard he stopped here."
The bartender spat into a nearby sink. "Sorry, son, ain't seen hide nor hair for at least two weeks. He came in here lookin' mighty spooked though. Never seen a grown man look that scared. You say Angel's ya pa? He don't look that old."
"He's older than he looks."
Dean punched Sam lightly on the shoulder. "Sammy, you look like you've see a ghost, man."
"I think I have." Sam turned to watch the slender man leave the bar. He placed his bottle on the scarred table top with enough force to leave indentations. "I'll be right back."
Dean frowned. "Sam. Sammy!"
"Not now, Dean."
xxxxx
Sam looked carefully around the woefully under lit car park. He knew Connor had to be somewhere around here. Sam had been almost right behind him and no car or bike had been started.
Sam jumped as a heavy hand fell on his shoulder. Sam spun around to face a smirking Dean.
"Dude, what are you doing?"
Sam frowned at his brother. "That guy at the bar, the one asking about his father? He was a friend at Stanford. He disappeared a few months before…"
"That scrappy little guy? The girlie looking one?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "His name's Connor."
The brother turned at the sound of a high pitched scream.
"Round the back."
xxxxx
"Son of a bitch."
Sam stammered wordlessly.
This was not what he had expected to find. High pitched screams in the night usually meant one of two things. Given the recent string of 'wild animal' attacks, the money would have been on some creature attacking an innocent.
Not Connor beating on some kind of creature.
"Yeah, he really needs our help," Dean quipped.
Sam winced as the creature kicked Connor in the head. His moth dropped open as Connor threw the much larger creature against the generator. The fight came to a sudden end, Connor shoving a sharpened piece of wood into the creature's chest, causing it to disintegrate into a cloud of dust.
"Whoa!" Dean looked impressed. "Makes for one hell of an easy clean up."
Connor rotated his shoulders and cracked his neck. "You can come out now, Sam."
Sam shivered. He could swear that Connor's almost unnaturally blue eyes were following his every move, despite the shadows he and Dean were cloaked in.
Ignoring Dean's protests, Sam stepped into the pale light. "You knew I was there?"
Connor threw the piece of wood away. "I saw you in the bar. And your friend who's still hiding."
Dean stepped into the light, grumbling to himself. "Dude, what the hell was that?"
Connor looked down at the small pile of ashes. "That was a vampire."
"All the vampires were destroyed years ago," Sam protested.
Connor snorted. "Not possible. Those things breed faster than rabbits."
"So, you're a hunter?"
"And you went to Stanford to be normal, Sammy," Dean commented. "Is everyone you know tied up with the supernatural?"
"Shut up, Dean."
"And you wanted to be a lawyer."
Sam glared at Dean. "Can we get back to business, please? I never picked you as a hunter, Connor."
Connor picked up a heavy duffel bag and swung it lightly over his shoulder. "I was born into it. I've been doing this all my life."
Dean smiled sardonically. "Let me guess. You went to Stanford to try and have a normal life."
"Something like that."
Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder. "Looks like you and my bother have a lot in common. You looking for your dad too?"
Connor studied them for a moment. "You two familiar was the law firm Wolfram and Hart?"
Sam frowned slightly. "Yeah. They, ah, approached me about an internship if I got into law school."
"They're evil," Connor said flatly. "Most of their cliental are demons. They get rich getting demons off for murder and worse."
"Figures," Sam sighed.
"My father's tired to bring down the L.A. branch for years. Last year he really pissed them off. The Senior Partners are throwing everything they have at him."
"You just disappeared, man. Everyone thought you caved under the pressure."
"They killed the rest of my family. I'm an easy target to get to my father and I wasn't going to help them by staying put."
Dean eyed him carefully. A thing like that could make a man turn all funny. "What are you going to do?"
"They hurt me. I hurt them. My dad's pretty good at finding their weak spots."
"We're about to hit the road. There are reports of a banshee upstate. You want in?" Surprisingly the offer came from Dean.
"Dean?"
Dean shrugged. "What? I like the guy. He's got a good philosophy and he's pretty strong for a scrawny guy. You ever use a gun?"
Connor studied Dean, weighing up the offer. "Never needed one. I prefer stakes and swords." Connor patted his bag. "Never leave home without them."
"Swords, huh? Cool. So, you in?"
Connor scratched his cheek. "Yeah, okay. It sounds like… fun."
Dean rubbed his hands together. "Great. Now, I gotta tell you the rules. One: Ain't no way you are driving my car. Two: No smoking in the car. Three: Driver picks the music, passengers shut their cakeholes."
xxx
end
