Authors Note: Ally is my character, anything else belongs to the CW. This is a Dean Winchester X OC one shot, that I've been toying around with. I might take this brain child and turn it into an actual story, but for now I wanted to share this and see what you all thought of it. Here is some background information: Ally is a hunter who has known the Winchester family for ten years, and friends with Sam and Dean. Her father raised her to be able to protect herself from things that go bump in the night until his "retirement" some years ago. Now, in her mid twenties, she has been travelling with a solo hunting Dean for four years. Until now.
"You think you're getting off that easy, don't you Winchester? Well I've got news for you; this is not how it works. You don't get to run away. Not now, not after everything we've been through. Don't you dare think you can leave me behind like this!" I snapped the phone shut, tears brimming in my eyes. I was standing in the doorway of the motel room staring out at the empty parking spot that was once occupied by an old school Chevy. On the bedside table were sixty dollars and a bag full of my clothes. I kicked the door, screaming in frustration, anger radiating off me in fiery waves. I wanted to break something, anything. This was typical Dean Winchester fashion, not only was I being left behind, but I was completely abandoned.
I saw it coming too; stopping this was all near impossible. His whole mannerism for the last few days changed dramatically. Our conversations were shorter; communication became almost obsolete. The biggest indicator, however was that there was no next hunt. Not for me at least, he kept that information to himself. I should have slept in the car. I knew something like this would happen, this is his M.O. It isn't the first time I've been threatened, but this is the first time he's actually followed through. I sat on the bed and ran my hands through my hair. I need to compose myself; figure out a game plan. Clearly I wasn't meant to follow him. He gave me no indication as to where he might be. Clever bastard gave me enough to get to one destination and feed myself. If I try to follow, I could end up stranded. Maybe I should, then he would have to come back and get me. I took a deep breath and dialed again. Growling in frustration, I listened to the automated voice again.
"This is stupid. You can't expect me to just hop on a bus and not follow you. Where am I going to go? I don't know what's going on in that head of yours, but you better turn around and come get me now." Sighing, I rummaged through my clothes bag. A pistol and a can of salt lay wrapped in my sweater. That plus my bowie knife under my pillow made me feel easier. I didn't believe Dean would leave me defenseless, but he made it so I couldn't take on another hunt either. Something big must have happened to make Dean this nervous. Once more I dialed, the action becoming automatic at this point.
"You'd think you'd take the hint by now."
"What the hell is going on, Dean?" I seethed.
"You know exactly what's going on Ally, now stop calling and get to the bus station."
"And go where Dean? Huh? Where am I supposed to go?"
"Anywhere."
"What brought this on? Our last job went pretty smoothly for the most part!"
"It doesn't matter, just do what I say and go home Ally."
"How can I go home when you're driving away in it?"
"Don't be melodramatic."
"What's the hunt, Dean? Why don't you want me involved?"
"I told you when it wasn't safe anymore, you were getting the boot. You would have gotten it a long time ago if you hadn't slept in the car."
"You act like I'm some kind of civilian! I'm a hunter too Dean if you haven't noticed. I can take care of myself."
"Which is why I wasn't worried about leaving you there by yourself. Did you find the salt and your gun?"
"Yes," I replied sullenly.
"Thatta girl."
"Dean-"
"If you think you're going to get some sappy confession, then clearly you've had your head up your ass the last 10 years."
"I don't need a confession; I need you to turn around and come get me before I start walking. The only thing I want to know is why the hell am I standing in an empty motel room with the bare essentials? Talk to me Winchester." The signs were there, but the core reason behind his behavior was still a mystery to me.
"Why do you want to come along so bad? You could be in school you know; you've always been really good with history." He was trying to deflect me. We both knew school was the furthest thing from my mind. How could I even entertain the thought of a normal life with the kind I lead? You don't just walk away from this kind of life. If I really wanted to, I could probably get on a bus, go home and do the whole school thing; but I am a hunter, and Dean has become more of a family to me then my own back in Massachusetts.
"This is about that ripper ghost back in Donahue isn't it?" The images from almost a month ago flashed before my eyes. The guy was a copy cat, a real 'Jack the Ripper' wannabe, named Randall Archer. He followed the basic structure of Jack's preference, but made it fit his own sadistic pleasure, a real flavor for brunettes and red heads between the ages of 19 and 24. He prowled the local university campus, chatting up women walking home from their evening classes, sweet talking them and eventually asking them out for a night cap. Enticed by his charming demeanor and the opportunity for free alcohol, the women would walk with him downtown where he would lead them down an alley where he would slice their necks and gut them. He racked up the same amount of kills as his idol before committing suicide in his apartment. On the anniversary of his death, women began disappearing on their way home, their bodies found the same way in alley's downtown.
Our job was a salt and burn mission, only there wasn't a grave to be found. The locals left him in an unmarked grave buried deep down in the ground on the outside of town. One of the victims' best friends, Rachel, was more than eager to help us. One of the few times someone we were trying to help didn't think we were completely mad. While Dean went searching for the grave, Rachel and I ran into the ghost on our way back from researching the town's archives. She and I being both the proper age and brunettes caught his attention. Round after round, I pelted him with salt enough to keep him at bay long enough to escape. I threw the phone to Rachel so she could call Dean, while I kept an eye out for Randall. I can only imagine what it must have sounded like to Dean. All Rachel could get out was his name. We didn't even see him coming. Before I could react, Randall plunged his knife straight through Rachel. The next round I shot went straight through his head, forcing him to dissipate long enough for me to get away. There was nothing I could do to help her. That's the hardest part of our job; the casualties. That loss was more than I could bear, Dean reminding me ever since then that it wasn't my fault. It's not like the first time we've lost someone during a job. We might not be able to save everyone, but we try our damnedest anyway.
"Dean, you said it yourself; there was nothing we could have done. It wasn't fair the way things turned out, but we got rid of him. No one else is will have to die-."
"I thought it was you." It slipped out so fast I almost missed it.
"What?"
"When she called me, I thought it was you. I thought you were dead." It all made sense now.
"I grabbed the phone though; I talked to you when I got away."
"Five minutes; that's how long it took. Five minutes that I thought you were dead."
"That's why you left me here isn't it. You're afraid."
"You're better off Ally. I will not go through that again. I won't do it. Those were the scariest five minutes of my life, and I'll be damned if I have to relive them again, for real this time. "
My heart dropped into my stomach. I knew that the incident had upset him, but I thought we were past it once he realized I was alright. He was afraid of losing me.
"Dean—"I whispered. My voice died in my throat, the fight slowly draining out of me. This was much deeper than just keeping me alive. It had been for a while, neither of us dared to speak of it, waiting for the other to make the first move. This was Dean making his move. I wanted to tell him why years of a normal life would mean nothing if he wasn't in it. All of those things I wanted to say conveyed in four simple words: "Come back to me."
Silence hung in the air like a heavy blanket. The soft sound of the Impala's radio drifted through the speaker indicated he was still on the line.
"Son of a bitch," he muttered. I heard the roar of the engine and the squealing of tires. My heart leapt in my chest. "Did you check out yet?"
"No."
"Good. I'll be there in an hour; we'll leave in the morning."
"But it's only 10." I glanced at the morning sun, confusion setting in.
"I know," My breathing became shallow as his husky voice tickled my ears.
"Dean," I breathed; my heart pounding.
"I'll see you soon, Ally." I shut my phone, a smile spread across my face.
"Damn you, Winchester." I muttered, heading inside our room.
What did you guys think? Please review and let me know if I should continue with this, or if it should just stay a one shot. Thanks for reading!
