February 1st of 1995 found Alice Smith in a bar. To say she was shaken would have been an understatement. She had run into herself, in the most literal sense of the word.
Granted, it was her five-year-old self. The more she thought back to that day though, the more she remembered. She gazed into the caramel liquid in her glass, revisiting the memory from the perspective of that long gone version of her.
Her family was chasing a demon across the country. They stopped at gas station. Little Alice had been so bored, waiting in the stuffy car for her Grandmother return. Her older sister Allison was asleep in trucks cramped backseat. Even if she were awake, she wouldn't have been in the mood to play. The demon had thrown her against a wall and broken two of her ribs a few states back.
Gazing the window lazily, Alice spotted a flash of ginger. Her eyes snapped to follow it in time to see an orange cat sauntering around the side of the gas station. Her little face broke into a grin, missing baby teeth lending her an appearance of maniacal glee that belied her otherwise innocent countenance. She opened the car door to pursue the small creature.
"Kitty, kitty," she called. She turned the corner, and started petting the cat, which took the attention smugly. It rubbed against her and purred, fat and friendly, if somewhat pompous.
Suddenly, a door opened, startling Alice and the cat. The feline hissed, and fled, while Alice remained crouched on the ground. She looked up to see a teenage girl emerge from the bathroom, its key dangling from her left hand. When the girl saw Alice, her eyes widened, and she dropped the key.
"You- you..."
The older girl trailed off, staring wordlessly at Alice. Her mouth gaped in shock while Alice studied her curiously.
"Do I know you?" Little Alice asked, thinking that the stranger looked vaguely familiar.
"I- you-"
"Alice?"
Alice stood promptly, and turned to see her grandmother standing behind her, hands on hips.
"Back to the car," she ordered briskly. Alice obeyed quickly, glancing over her shoulder as she hurried to the truck. The older girl was looking at Grandmother so oddly. Grandmother gave her a stern look, but said nothing. She got in the driver's seat, and they drove away.
Alice of the present shook her head as if to chase away the memory, and took a swig of her drink. She hated herself for freezing as she had. It was just so much of a shock for her. She had never, not in her wildest dreams, imagined she would see her Grandmother again. Now, all she could think about now was what might have been. If she hadn't been so stupid, she could have stopped Grandmother, and warned her... come to think of it, she still could. She struggled to remember the route they had taken on that particular hunt, but god damn her, she had been five at the time, and road signs had been the least of her worries.
Her musings were interrupted by another teenager, who took the seat next to her.
"Hi," he said.
She rolled her eyes, and made a point of not looking at him. She could practically feel the flirtatious smile plastered over his features, even while ignoring him.
"You know, I've been watching you, and if I had to guess, I'd say you've got something on your mind," he ventured.
"You've been watching me?" she scowled. "You know, when you're trying to pick up girls, the last thing you want to say is 'I've been watching you'."
He chuckled as she waved to the bartender, pointing to her empty glass.
"Fair enough. Will you at least let me pay for that?" he asked.
The more she heard his voice, the more she thought there was something familiar about it. Her curiosity piqued, she glanced over at him. Like his voice, she was certain that she knew his face, but from where, she couldn't say.
"Well, I'm not one to turn down a free drink," she said cautiously.
He smiled, and turned to the bartender. "Get us two more of whatever she had," he requested.
Alice watched him as he spoke, racking her memories trying to place him. Thankfully, before her buzzed brain could blow a circuit, he turned to her with a smile and clicked the final piece into the puzzle.
"I'm Dean," he said, offering his hand.
Alice's breath caught in her throat. The realization of who she was sitting next to stunned her for a long moment. While she hadn't seen Dean Winchester for almost three years, she had far from forgotten him. Now, unmistakably, he was here, though much younger than the Dean she had met in 1992. Probably around seventeen. He could have passed as twenty or so easily, but not because of physical aging. Like Alice, he carried his handful of years heavy as a millstone.
"Alice," she replied, finally shaking his had.
"So," he said as the bartender set their drinks down. "You wanna talk about what's driving you to drink?"
Alice snorted as he sipped his drink. "You wanna tell me why you're in a bar at all?"
"Sorry?" he asked.
"How old are you? Seventeen? Eighteen, tops?" she asked.
"Twenty-one," he replied. He shot her a knowing, amused look that told her he had guessed she was underage as well. "How about you?"
"Twenty-one," she replied, smirking at him.
"Sure," he said sarcastically.
"Seriously though, you couldn't think of a better way to spend your night?" she asked.
"I could ask you the same question," Dean replied.
"Honestly? I had better things to do. But hey, when life gives you lemons, drink til you get the taste out of your mouth," Alice said.
"I'll drink to that," Dean agreed, raising his cup to toast. She clinked her glass against his lightly, and sipped the sharp, bitter liquid slowly. She had entered the bar planning to lose herself at the bottom of a glass, but she now decided to hold off, at least for a while.
"You know, you look kind of familiar. Have we met?" Alice asked experimentally.
Dean studied her for a moment, then shrugged. "Don't think so. I meet a lot of people though, so it's hard to say."
"Really? You travel a lot?" Alice asked.
"What makes you think that?" Dean asked.
"You've got an air about you," Alice replied simply.
"Well you know what I think?" Dean asked.
"What?" Alice said.
"I think it takes one to know one," Dean said.
"Guilty as charged," she admitted.
"So what's your situation?" Dean asked.
Alice thought for a moment. "Complicated," she said finally. "Yours?"
"Ditto. So, you still haven't told me why you're so gloomy. Or is it complicated?"
"You have no idea," Alice grumbled, downing the last of her drink and signalling the bartender for another. Dean was still watching her expectantly.
She sighed. "I just... I ran into a few people I never thought I'd see again."
"In a good way, or a bad way?" Dean nudged.
Alice considered for a few minutes. "Both, I guess," she decided finally. The bartender brought her drink, and she took a long swig. "What about you?" she asked, turning the focus away from herself. "Do you have something on your mind, or are you just here to pick up girls?"
Dean frowned theatrically. "I'm not here to pick up girls," he said.
"Could've fooled me," Alice snickered.
"Alright, let's say I was," Dean grinned. "How would you say I'm doing?"
Alice shrugged. "Not bad."
"Not bad?" Dean asked critically.
"Well, in your defense, you haven't tried any pathetic pickup lines. You're also not acting like a pushy asshole. You do come off as dangerous though. Like I said, you're not doing bad," Alice explained.
"You know, in my experience most girls don't give you advice on how to pick them up," Dean said.
"I guess I'm not most girls," Alice said. She knocked back the rest of her drink, and Dean frowned when she signaled for another.
"That was at least your third," he said.
"Yeah, and I can still see straight," Alice said. She squinted, and grimaced. "Sort of, anyway."
"Do you have a ride home?" Dean asked.
"Home..." Alice trailed off. "I don't have one of those."
"Then where are you staying?" Dean asked.
"Gray Flamingo hotel," Alice replied.
"Hey, what do you know? I've got a room there too. How about you let me give you a ride back?"
Alice raised her eyebrows at him. "I've known you for about ten minutes. You could be anyone," she said.
"So could you," Dean replied steadily.
Alice chuckled, realizing that in Dean's case, it was true. He didn't know who she was. She, on the other hand, was already acquainted with him. Or, at least, who he would grow up to be. She actually did not know who he was at this point in his life. For all she knew, he could have gone through a rapist/serial killer phase.
If he had, she thought with wicked amusement, he had selected dangerous prey tonight.
"You know what, forget that last drink," Alice called to the bartender. "Just bring the tab."
Dean pulled out his wallet, and Alice watched silently as he paid. She stood, and walked out door, Dean following her.
"I hope you drove here, because I walked," Alice said.
"I drove."
Dean walked up to a black 67 Impala, and Alice nodded slowly. She had seen this particular car, driven by one John Winchester.
"Nice wheels," she said appreciatively.
"Thanks," Dean said, grinning proudly. "I just got it."
"Really? Who gave it to you?" Alice asked.
Dean frowned. "Why does someone have to have given it to me?" he asked.
Alice paused for a moment, fearing she had slipped up. She had figured that if the car belonged to John, he must have given it to Dean, but Dean didn't know that she knew anything about his father.
"No offense, but you don't look like you could afford to buy it yourself," she lied quickly.
"Ouch," Dean sighed. "Sadly, you're right. My Dad gave it to me for my birthday three days ago."
Just like she'd thought.
"Congrats," she said. He started the car, and a question occurred to her. "How old are you, really?" she asked.
"Sixteen," he replied easily. Alice raised her eyebrows in mild surprise.
"Wow. Again, no offense, but you look old for sixteen. In a good way, I mean."
Dean chuckled uncertainly. "Thanks... I think. What about you? I'm guessing you're not really drinking age," he said.
"I'm seventeen," Alice said.
"I figured you were around there somewhere," Dean said. "So, if it's not prying too much, why are you staying at a motel?"
"I could ask you the same thing," Alice replied. "I mean, unless it's prying too much."
"I'm travelling with my brother and my Dad," Dean replied easily, taking Alice by surprise. She had not expected him to answer.
"I'm... travelling too, but I'm doing it alone," Alice said.
"Why alone?" Dean asked.
"Well, for a while, my grandmother and my sister were with me. They... left, though, so now it's just me," Alice said carefully.
"Why'd they leave?" Dean asked.
"You just want to know everything about me, don't you?" Alice said abruptly.
"I'd like to know whatever you'll let me," Dean said. "But if something's off limits, just say so. I won't push."
Alice snorted. "The list would be shorter if I just told you what isn't off limits," she muttered. She spotted the hotel, and pointed it out. "That's the place."
"I know, I've got a room here too, remember?" Dean said.
"Right," Alice recalled. The world spun a little, and she realized the alcohol had gotten to her faster than she had anticipated.
Dean pulled into the lot, and parked near the office. He got out ahead of Alice, crossed over to her side of the car, and opened the door for her.
"Classy moves," she complimented him as she climbed out. He ruined the moment by giving a corny bow.
He straightened, and she considered him for a minute. He watched her intently, a clear question shining through his eyes. Alice knew she had a choice to make. She could not help but remember the last time she had seen him. Yes, it had hurt her when he left, but she had gotten over it a long time ago. Now though, she was forced to face the possibility that she could have him for good. Maybe if she told him she was a hunter too, they could stay together. Maybe...
Yeah, right, she thought snidely, chastising herself. Maybe I can explain to him that I met him when he was twenty-eight or so? Maybe I can tell him that we had... something. Maybe I should grow wings and fly away to venus while I'm at it.
"Thanks for the ride," she said at last.
"You're welcome. So..." he trailed off, an unspoken question hanging in the silence between them.
"Good night," Alice said, her words carrying a note of finality.
He looked a little let down, but nodded. "Good night," he replied. He turned, and started walking away.
This could be the last time you ever see him, said a voice in Alice's head. She bit her lip, torn for a second, before she made a decision she knew she would probably regret later.
"Dean, wait," she called, hurrying after him.
He turned as she reached him, staring at her quizzically. She hesitated for one more second, then kissed him without another word. She felt his lips curving upward against hers in a triumphant smirk. His hands crept around her waist, and she shuddered as he deepened the kiss. He felt and tasted only slightly different than he had the last time she had kissed him. He still tasted like whiskey, and something that she could only describe as Dean.
She drew away from him after a moment, meeting his eyes.
"Do you want to come to my room with me?" she asked.
"Lead the way."
She took him around the side of the motel, fishing her key out of her pocket as she went. Giddy excitement raced over her skin like electricity. Her head was swimming and the world moved around her as the whiskey in her bloodstream reached the height of it's effect.
"Dean!" someone called from behind them.
Dean winced, and turned to the speaker, a small boy carrying a bucket of ice.
"I said to stay in the room, Sammy," Dean growled.
Alice's eyebrows shot up, and she looked the kid over with newfound interest. He was rather scrawny, and quite unremarkable, wearing tattered clothes that looked like they had seen hell.
"I ran out of ice. Where have you been?" Sam asked. He spotted Alice, and a look of realization crossed his face. He grinned up at Dean. "Oh, I see," he said smugly.
"Don't you dare," Dean said as if he could tell what Sam was thinking.
"Why not? Dad said I should tell him if you left me alone to be with a girl," Sam said teasingly.
"What do you want?" Dean asked in exasperation.
"I get the remote for two weeks," Sam said quickly. Dean narrowed his eyes at his younger brother.
"Fine," he said through gritted teeth.
"Fine," Sam replied. He glanced back at Alice, before turning and ducking back around the corner, trying not to giggle.
"Your younger brother?" Alice asked, though she already knew the answer.
"Yeah... sorry about that," Dean said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.
"Hey, don't worry about it. He's kind of cute," Alice said. "Awfully short, though. How old is he?"
"Twelve," Dean replied.
"Hmm. I'd watch out if I were you," Alice said, grinning. "I think he's going to be a tall one when he gets a bit older."
She reached her room, let them in and locked the door behind them. He followed her, and she closed the door behind him. She turned to him, and leaned up to place a chaste kiss to his lips, before drawing back and meeting his eyes. She remembered the last time she had tried this. She usually shut the memory out, because it hurt. It stung of rejection and bitterness, and the raw pain that she felt when he was gone. The crushing certainty that the relationship that was already taboo and impossible would definitely, absolutely never be.
And yet, here he was. Here she was, miraculously on equal footing with him.
Dean bent down and kissed her, gently. A tingle raced through her as she returned it, remembering their first and last kiss. How he had been frozen, unable to pull away for a moment. How she had taken advantage of his shock for as long as she was able. The terrible jolt of cold, hard reality when he pushed her away, dutifully lecturing her on how wrong what she had done was.
This time, there was no moral dilemma. Just two kids exploring together. No rejection, but pure acceptance and unabated need.
Even so, something was different in a way that struck Alice as wrong. She realized it was a difference Dean. Before, he had rejected her because it was the right thing to do, but she had felt his desire through his discipline. Now, she felt his desire, but there was something shallow about it.
Maybe he didn't feel the same about her as he would when he was a few years older, but whatever Alice had felt for him before was still there. She had ignored it for such a long time that she had managed to forget it, but now... now she was desperate again.
She pulled him flush against her, winding her fingers into his hair and taking over the kiss. She steered them toward the bed, and let herself fall back, taking him with her. He made a small noise of surprise in the back of his throat, but adjusted quickly to being horizontal. Alice parted her legs and pulled him atop her, kissing him with a passion that she realized was probably puzzling to him.
Even so, he didn't seem to mind.
The rest of that night passed too quickly for Alice, and when the morning light crept through the tiny crack between her curtains, she found herself alone. She groaned, partly in disappointment, but mostly because of the headache that had settled deep within her skull. She had not known what to expect from sixteen year old Dean Winchester the morning after, but found that she was not particularly surprised. She also realized, too late, that she had been hoping to wake up with him next to her.
Alice struggled not to dwell on the events of the past roughly twenty-eight hours as she packed up and prepared to head out. It was hard, even for Alice, who had more practice than most at blocking even the most horrible of memories. Physically seeing her grandmother, her younger self, and the Winchesters felt a bit like seeing ghosts. Not the kind she was used to seeing either. She was quickly finding that the ghosts of the imminently deceased were harder to banish than the ghosts of the well and truly dead.
Alice was lost in a cloud of thought as she made her way to her car, a beat up camaro she had stolen a month earlier. She did not recall the exact route her Grandmother had taken on her way to exorcise that particular demon, but after scanning a map of the area, she recognized the name of the town they had ended up cornering it in.
Maybe she could get there in time, catch her grandmother, somehow change something... It was a long shot, probably a wild goose chase, but it was one that she was more than willing to embark upon. After all, she didn't see how she could make things turn out any worse than they had.
I'll have to ditch this junk bucket pretty soon, she thought to herself. Driving around in stolen cars for too long was a good way to get yourself tossed in prison.
"Alice! Hey!"
Alice lifted her head at the interruption of her musings, unable to keep the surprise from her face as she spotted Dean sprinting across the parking lot. He was laden with plastic bags, and out of breath by the time he reached her. Alice's heart hammered in her chest as her alcohol-dried brain puzzled over what was happening.
Who cares? the less rational part of her clamored. He's not gone yet! He stopped you from going!
"Hey," he said. "You're leaving?"
Alice cleared her throat, recomposing herself quickly.
"Uh, yeah," she said. "I, uh... I've got to catch up with... some people."
"Your family? Grandmother and brother, right?" Dean guessed.
"Sister," Alice corrected him, surprised and secretly delighted that he had remembered that much. "I'll be honest, I didn't think I'd be seeing you again."
Dean flushed, looking embarrassed, and maybe a little guilty.
"Yeah, I had to get some stuff for Sammy," he explained.
"It's cool," Alice said quickly.
There was a long silence between them. Alice didn't bother to hide the fact that she was staring at Dean, while he avoided her gaze uncomfortably.
"I've got to hit the road," Alice reluctantly said after a few minutes.
Dean nodded. "Hey, last night was awesome," he offered.
Alice smirked. "I give it a b+," she teased.
Dean took it well, laughing out loud at her jape. "Maybe I'll do better next time," he said.
Alice's heart faltered for a moment. In that instant, it occurred to her that she could stay with Dean. They could work something out. She could tell him she was a hunter, offer to help him and his family, maybe explain to him someday about what would happen to them with the trickster...
But it would never work. John Winchester knew her, or at least knew of her. At the very least, he still thought he owed her two hundred dollars. Her guess was that he was as likely to let her hang around his sons as an angel was to hob-knob with a demon in a nudie bar. Not to mention that Alice had a chance to right her family's timeline, maybe her last chance. She couldn't walk away from it that easily.
"I don't doubt it," she finally managed. She climbed into her car, and pulled out of her space. She poked her head out of the window, shooting him one last smile.
"See you around, Winchester," she said, before driving off.
Dean watched her go. It wasn't until her car disappeared around a turn that he realized he had never given her his last name. In his line of work, throwing your last name around could be a fatal mistake, especially when it was as well known as his. You never knew who or what the person you were drinking with might turn out to be.
Dean ran through last night again quickly in his head, and ultimately shrugged it off. He had probably let his last name slip on accident at some point. It wasn't a big deal.
Dean was sure that there was nothing weird, or remotely dangerous about Alice.