The End
A fanfiction by Sydney Wallace
I sat in my motel room, trying to study. Salt lined the door. The rust colored carpet matched the walls, and the small television blared the news. I was trying to focus on my writing class fictional essay. It usually wasn't this difficult, since half the things I see on a daily basis shouldn't exist. But I wasn't focusing tonight. My mind wandered to other things, including the news. The anchor was now talking about a series of deaths over in London. I was wishing I could go and investigate. I could afford it, but this was a huge case. I would need help, but I didn't know any other hunter. Other than the Winchesters. But they didn't know me. I leaned over to get a glass of water from the bedside table. My computer crashed to the carpet. Reaching for my laptop, I knocked over the water. And then I was falling off the bed. I grabbed the lamp as if that would stop my inevitable three foot fall to the floor. The lamp, fell with me, bringing the whole table with it. And then I was on the floor, a night stand on top of me, and broken glass everywhere. I screamed.
There was a small sound of metal on metal, and then the door opened. I could hear footsteps, and then a sigh. I looked over the night stand to see a face looking over me. He had long hair, and caring puppy eyes. He was holding a pistol, as if he expected a monster in here. This could only be Sam Winchester. And I knew that because Sam was there, his big brother Dean couldn't be far behind.
"Hello boys." I said as sexily as I could with a table on my chest.
"Crowley?" Sam asked.
"No, just a hunter. As comfortable as this is, can you help me?" I gestured to the night table.
"Oh, uh… sure," Sam said. He lifted the table off me. I stood up, and brushed off my jeans. The glass had shattered all over. I had a few scratches on my lower back, but nothing significant. Dean was watching the news, absentmindedly wiping off a revolver on his t-shirt. Dean was slightly shorter than Sam. He wore a flannel shirt over a red t-shirt, as if he had no regard for the fact that it was an eighty degree day in July. I sat back on my bed.
"Thanks Sam." I told the tall man.
" How do you know my name?" Sam asked, perplexed.
"Every hunter knows you! You and Dean are the best hunters in the business," I told him. Dean stopped watching the news and turned to look at me.
"You're a hunter?" He asked, disbelievingly. I looked at myself. I was a very short sixteen year old girl. I was wearing jeans, old sneakers, a plain black t-shirt, and a black hoodie. My long brown hair had streaks of bright purple and blonde in it. I could see why Dean would have a hard time believing I was an experienced hunter.
"Yeah… I've been hunting since I was fourteen. A werewolf killed my family. I ended up killing it by accident. I took a chainsaw and cut its head off. Then, I was kinda on my own. I dropped out of school. I'm currently taking online classes," I finished. Dean and Sam just looked at me. Then, finally Dean spoke.
"Did you know this hotel room was haunted?"
I gestured to the salt, now scattered all over the room. The Winchesters had probably stepped on it and accidently got it all over. Dean nodded.
Sam looked around the room. He turned off the t-v.
"How good are you?" Sam asked.
"Not as good as you," I told them.
"How accurate is your shot?" Dean asked.
"Pretty good if you ask me," I told him.
"Prove it." Dean handed me his gun.
"What do you want me to hit?"
"Get as close to the eye on that painting as you can." Dean pointed to a painting of a little girl riding a tricycle. I walked to the doorway, closed the door, whirled around, aimed and fired. The bullet hit right in between the two eyes. Dean applauded.
"How do you kill a vampire?" Sam asked.
"Cut off its head."
"Do you know how to draw a Devil's trap?"
"Does Dean love his car?" I retorted to Sam.
"How do you know about my car?" He asked.
"Ran into a fellow who used to work with you on a few cases… uh… I forget his name. Was it Gavin? No… uh… uh!" I fumbled with the name.
"Garth?" Dean provided.
"Yes! Nice fellow. Werewolf though. What happened there?"
Dean shook his head. Sam started to talk.
"Well, there is a huge case in London. I'm sure you've heard about it. It's nothing the hunter world has ever seen before. Would you like to come? We do need back up. It just wouldn't be wise to go with just two people. I mean, we've only just met and-"
"Okay!" I said.
"You would have to pay for your own ticket," Dean said.
I leaned down and found my duffle bag. This contained three changes of clothes, ten fake I-D's, weapons, salt, two cans of spray paint, a wad of cash, and three books. Two notebooks, and one filled with incantations. I found the wad of cash, and showed it to the boys.
"Not a problem," I said.
"You sure? We've really only just met, and… how much is that? Is that more than one thousand? How did you get that?" Sam asked.
"I have my secrets," I replied.
"What's your name?" Dean asked.
"Well…" I debated telling them my real name, "My name is Thalia Quinn Coraline Westfall."
"There is no way that is your real name," Dean said.
"It is actually. I was going to tell you my favorite alias."
" Wow. Do you have fake ID's?" Sam asked.
"Ten of them."
"May I see?" Dean asked.
"Sure, let me get them." I went to my duffle bag again. I pulled out all of my IDs. I had seven FBI badges under seven different names. I had three drivers licences, with only one under my real name. The brothers looked at them.
"Do you know every name that's on these cards?' Sam asked. I recited them.
"Ashley Manfield, Thalia Quinn Coraline Westfall, Brynn Shultz, Alaska Greene, Lee Gryffin, Manson Hopeford, Melanthia O'Keefe, Jay Reems, Colt Daniels, and Dylan Amanda Dorano."
"Wow. Well, our plane for London leaves in three hours. We should get to the airport now," Sam stood up and put my IDs back. I took my computer, which was on my floor, and put it in my duffle bag. The Winchesters and I ran out of the room, and towards theirs. We could hear people complaining they heard gunshots. The brothers collected their stuff, and we all changed into our "look at me I'm so important" suits and dress. We crawled out the fire escape, not triggering the broken alarm.
At the airport, we got our boarding passes. The plan to get the monster gear past security was to say it was official FBI business. If the TSA agent didn't buy that, and demand to speak with the Winchester's supervisor, I would be their "supervisor" and assure the agent everything was fine. Then, they would do the same for me. Our bags were small enough to be carry-ons, so we didn't have to check them. The plan worked beautifully. I was FBI Agent Manfield, and I owned it. They were Special agents Collins and Webber. Finally, we were on the plane, and I was headed for the biggest case of my life.
On the plane, the stewardess served us drinks. Dean looked like he was going to be sick. Sam and I talked.
"So, what will happen to the ghost at the motel?" I asked, taking a sip of soda.
"Ah, a buddy will take care of it. Do you know all the facts about the case?"
"There are three hundred people dead in three months. Every victim traveled to London within a week of their demise. All the bodies were found shriveled and covered in a bright purple goo."
"And…" Sam prompted.
"What?" I asked.
"Sherlock Holmes is the first stop on our interview tour," Sam said with a smile.
The rest of the trip was spent making English NCIS badges and Dean having a break down. He was scared of flying. I was so happy. I was finally working with my idols. I was going to a new country. And I was going to meet Sherlock Holmes.
