The pounding rain fell against the windshield like bullets. I glanced out the rain-speckled window, drinking in the sight of the drops splattering on the dark pavement. The green blurs that were supposedly trees blurred past.
The road seemed to dissipate with ever turning tire of the impala.
The rev of the engine soothed me, easing me into a calming state. I rested my head against the condensed window. It felt good against my swollen, dried out of tears eyes.
"What are we supposed to do with her?" I heard Dean grumble.
"I don't know!" Sam spat at his brother.
"You were the one that made the freaking promise to Isaiah."
My eyelids fluttered open, and I watch intently as the boys argued with each other.
"Yes," Sam continued, "Correction: he said, and I quote, 'If something ever happens to me, promise you'll look after Noah?' and I nodded. What else was I supposed to do?"
"I don't know, say no, maybe?" I glanced into the rearview mirror and saw Dean glance at his younger brother.
"Well I never thought this would happen! Isaiah was a skilled hunter, almost as good as dad. I didn't think slaying vampires in Jericho was going to be the last time I saw him."
"Ahem." I cleared my throat, pretending like I had just woken up.
Dean elbowed his brother, warning him to stop.
I yawned.
Neither of them said anything, just watched me in silence, Dean through his rearview mirror and Sam through periodic glances.
"Are you okay kiddo?" Dean asked after what seemed liked hours of silence.
I nodded, peering back at the window.
My dad was a good man, he didn't deserve to die.
I remember it so vividly…
We were in Seattle, taking down a pack of werewolves. When they tied us up I knew we were doomed. Usually I could get myself out of restraints like that, but they literally had a werewolf watching my every move.
When my dad escaped without them noticing, he pulled out his gun, silver bullets ready to shoot.
Only, the gun was jammed.
The gun was never jammed. Why did it jam now?
I started crying, because I knew this was it. We would both die.
They tackled my father to the ground and I watched as they ripped his body, limb from limb. His own blood was on me. I just cried, feeling weaker then I had ever before. I hated feeling weak. A Kennedy was never weak. Never.
While they were busy mowing down on my father, I managed to slip out one of the knives from shirt sleeve. I unlocked the chains and cut the cloth that held my wrists together. Garth, another hunter that was there, arrived at the perfect time.
He helped me escape and then called Sam and Dean.
And now, here I was.
Part of me wish I died though. I had nothing to live for anymore. My father taught me everything I knew, and now I was nothing.
I knew Sam and Dean well, but not well enough to go road tripping across the country playing the role of their 'little cousin'.
They hated being stuck with me; I could hear them talk about it already.
The only sound was the impala's engine. The car continuously skidded against the wet pavement.
"Where are we going?" I asked, sullenly gazing out the window again.
"Beacon Hills, California."
I looked to Dean, and he peered over his shoulder. "Why?"
"We know a hunter there, Argent. I want to talk to him."
"Argent, as in Chris Argent?"
I watched Dean nod.
I cheered internally. This wouldn't be so horrible… I knew his daughter, Allison. We were close when we were little because my father went to visit them all the time.
"What are you talking to him about?"
"You ask a lot of questions, kid."
I rolled my eyes, waiting for him to continue.
Sam turned around to me, answering my question. "There have been a lot of impossible things happening in this town. Recent murders, sudden disappearances. It's like a beacon for supernatural creatures. The school has had a crazy amount of murders, and not to mention what looks like darach sacrifices. Last year a couple of kids were trapped in the school by some kind of creature. We think it's an alpha werewolf."
Werewolf.
Just the word made me despise them. I wanted to kill every last one of them for murdering my father. I wanted them to suffer. All of them.
"There have definitely been a lot of werewolf attacks…" Dean added
"So what are we going to do?"
"Kill them, obviously. We just need to devise a plan first."
"Oh!" I raised my hand up, "I'm in!"
Dean shook his head. "No."
"Why not?"
"Because, you're just a kid, Noah."
I looked down at my curly brown hair and twirled it in my fingertips. "My father didn't think so."
Dean sighed.
"This is the perfect opportunity to use me. Clearly this a juvenile pack of werewolves. Some of them must to the school, so you guys should enroll me and I can do some investigating."
Dean grumbled, gripping the steering wheel tight.
Sam turned to his brother, and in a hushed tone he said, "She has a point."
"Fine" Dean spat, "But if I say enough, then I mean enough. Alright?"
I nodded, a smile starting to form on my face.
Dean parked the impala in front of a suburban apartment building. Since it was one in the morning, Dean picked the lock, letting us in. We walked to the fourth floor and paused when we reached room 108.
This was a nice apartment building, better than their old house they lived in when they were in San Francisco. I was giddy to see Allison. She would help ease the numb pain I felt in the middle of my chest.
Sam knocked a few times but there was no answer. They must have been asleep.
I wanted to see Allison...
"We'll come back tomorrow." Dean announced, walking back towards the elevator. Sam and I trailed behind him, rain-drenched shoes squeaking on the hard floor beneath us.
"Winchesters" A stun voice spoke.
We turned to see Chris Argent, one of the best werewolf hunters around.
"Argent" Dean said, turning to the fellow hunter.
"I see you brought along Noah."
I gave him a sullen smile.
"I'm sorry about your father," Chris mourned.
I just sighed, nodding. I felt like crying, but I couldn't. I wasn't allowed to. Never show weakness. That was the number one rule my father taught me.
Never show weakness.
"What brings you boys here this late at night?"
"We need to talk." Dean's eyebrows tightened into a nicely knit line. He was always so intimidating. Just his stance right now made it appear like he was going to pounce on Argent any second.
"May I ask why? It's one o'clock in the morning boys." Chris shifted his weight as he turned to face Dean.
"You live in this town, I think you know why. The recent murders… Human sacrifices… The cop station blowing up… Please tell me you have been picking this clue's up."
Chris just shrugged nonchalantly.
"Come on, Chris. Even Blue's Clue's could pick these up."
"I would prefer if we could talk about this during daylight, boys." The man raised a hand to his face, brushing his fingers over the dark stubble.
"Is Allison asleep?" I intercepted.
His faced dropped, hollowed and pained. His mouth resembled the shape of the letter S.
I recognized his expression immediately. He didn't have to say anything. She was gone. I wasn't extremely close with Allison, but we were when we were younger. Her father tried to keep her out of the supernatural world, unlike mine, which I admired Chris for. I pondered about her death, how it happened.
Instead of breaking down and crying, I kept it all in, expanding the numbing feeling throughout me. I nodded in respect.
"We'll be back tomorrow, Argent." Dean announced, almost like he was warning him.
"Goodnight." He nodded, and then shut the door, locking us out.
The repulsive motel room stenched of stale sweat and dirt. I gagged a little as I walked in, dropping my bag. One bag, that's all I had. That's all I needed when I was constantly on the road. It was going to be weird now, hanging with these two.
"Nasty…" I said in regard to the cigarette burns in the bed sheets. There were only two beds, and a big bean bag chair in the corner.
"I'll take the floor," I volunteered.
"No." Sam interjected, "I will, it's fine."
I shook my head, "I'm already a burden enough for you guys. The least I could do is give you a half-decent bed to sleep in."
"You're not a burden." Sam objected, "Don't say that." He frowned.
But I was, I knew it. I just gave him a small close-lipped smile.
"Bed, now." Dean pointed towards the bed farthest from us. "Sammy will take the floor."
I sighed in defeat, and obliged his orders.
He flicked off the light switch.
The room was now filled with darkness.
Oddly enough, the darkness always creeped me out. You think after years of hunting in it I would be alright, but no. Because that's always here the worst creatures lurked. Plus, all the dangerous shit happened at night.
I listened to the slight snore of Dean and the loud heaving breath's of Sam.
I would have to get used to it. This was my life now.
I had to admit though; I wouldn't trust anyone but the Winchesters to take care of me. But I didn't need taking care of. Being babied made me feel utterly weak, and I hated that, more than anything. I decided to promise myself something:
No matter what, I would not be weak. I will be strong. No tears, no fragility. This was it. I'm strong. I'm by myself now, and I won't get in the Winchester's way. I would instead benefit them as much as I could.
The last thing I heard was Dean sleep-talk "Mmm pie…" before I shut my eyes, and let unconsciousness take over me.
"Where are we going?" I asked as Dean sped down the highway.
"Police station"
"For questioning?"
"Yeah," Sam replied.
"Why am I going with you then?"
"Yeah, why is she going with us?" Sam arched a brow, turning to his brother.
"I am not leaving you out of my sight Noah."
I rolled my eyes. "I can take care of myself."
"Yeah, I heard the same line from someone else I know and he ended up getting possessed by the devil and jumping straight into hell."
Of course, he was referring to Sam. My father and I were probably the only ones who knew about what happened to Sam and Dean in the last few years. They had been through a lot, opening the gates of hell, saving innocent's from supernatural creatures, angel mishaps, dying and coming back to life…
My father was particularly close with Bobby, Sam and Dean's, close friend. I guess you could say Bobby was a close farther figure that they never really had. I remember the day he died, my father was devastated.
When we arrived at the station, I let them put on their acting faces and do their thing. I sat on the bench outside of some kind of office. I turned my body towards them so I could eavesdrop. I tucked a long brown strand of hair behind my ear.
"Hello Sheriff," Sam started, "I'm agent Lupin and this is my partner, Black."
In synchronization they pulled out their fake badges, flashing them at the Sherriff. The man looked nice, like a typical next door neighbor type of guy. He was older, but not that old. Probably in his late forties early fifties.
"We have a couple of questions about the recent death's that have occurred, in the last year or so." Dean smugly put the badge away, replacing it in his jacket pocket. I giggled a little at their attire. Those were the suits they always used, they just bought different colored shirts or ties. They appeared very handsome though.
"Pardon if I seem rude, but there is already an FBI agent here. Agent McCall. He was assigned a few months ago."
"We know," Sam replied, using his acting skills perfectly. "The department thought they should send us down, since nothing has progressed."
"Oh." The Sherriff nodded. "Couldn't you speak to him about the death's then?"
"We would prefer to speak to you," Sam explained. "McCall is actually working in a different field then us, so he probably isn't even aware that we have arrived, yet." He was always so good at this. It was like he was completely a different person. Usually I could pick out if someone was a hunter or not but if Sam confronted me I would have no idea, I'd actually believe them.
"Let's go somewhere quieter then. My office, perhaps?"
Sam and Dean nodded in unison. They started walking towards me and went into the office I sat outside of. Dean gave me a small wink.
They shut the door behind them.
"Crap..." I said aloud. I won't be able to get a good listen on them. I leaned towards the window outside of the Sherriff's office, trying to pick up anything.
"Why crap?" I turned to the voice who had addressed me, and immediately jolted up. There was a boy, inches from my face. He was pale, extremely pale. So pale, you could see the flushed patches in his cheeks where the blood had risen. His face was neatly dotted with cute miniscule moles. His prominent cheekbones framed his face nicely. His brown irises locked with mine.
I backed up, pressing myself against the cold wooden bench.
"I was just uh—"
"Listening in? Sweet. What are they, FBI?"
I nodded, observing this bubbly, overly-exuberant, twitchy boy.
"Awesome, I'm Stiles, by the way."
"Sta- what?"
"Stiles, don't ask. My parents gave me a super embarrassing name so now I'm stuck with shortening it to this."
I pressed my lips into a tight line, monitoring Stiles.
"You are?"
"Noah Kennedy…" I said cautiously.
He nodded, "Cool name," Then turned to the office, spreading open the blinds with his fingers to get a better look.
I scooted farther down the bench, keeping my distance from the boy. I leaned towards the room, making myself not so obvious in the art of eavesdropping, unlike Stiles. I could only just see the top of the boys' heads.
"So Sherriff Stil— How do you say that?" Dean asked, peering down at an orange file in his hands.
"Stilinski."
"Hm." Dean smirked.
"Why can no one ever say that? It's not that hard. Stilinski…" Stiles said in response to Dean.
"You're related to him?" I cocked my head slightly.
"I'm his son."
I just nodded, listening back in.
"So what do you need to know?" The Sherriff asked, pressing his palms face-down against the office table.
"Well, we've taken a look at the crime scene photos at the last few homicides but we'd like to get yours, and hopefully some other officer's personal account on it." Sam exclaimed.
There was a loud crash next to me, and I saw Stiles struggling to hide behind the door and keep the blinds open well enough to see in. He would duck every now and again when Sam and Dean glanced over.
They saw him, obviously. But I would let Stiles believe that he was being sneaky.
"Especially concerning the recent death of Allison Argent—"
Another loud bang, Stiles fell against the bench I sat on. His eyes were wide, his mouth slack-jawed.
"What was that?" Dean asked.
"That would be mine…" The Sherriff face-palmed himself, sighing. He took large strides towards the door. When he saw his soon collapsed on the bench beside me, he glared. "Stiles, out. Now."
"But—"
"Stiles, please. I'm with some people right now."
Stiles got up, narrowing his eyes at his father. He mouthed something, and then gave a questioning thumbs up.
His father rolled his eyes, but nodded. HE then turned to me, as Stiles walked away in the other direction. "I'm sorry," He apologized. "It's only fair that I ask you to leave too, otherwise my son will never let it go."
I nodded and stood up. I took one last glance over my shoulder at the boys, in which Dean gave me a questioning look. I just shrugged slightly, and walked away from them.
I walked out of the building and into the cold chilling air. I sighed at the fact that I got dumped out here due to Stiles' actions, and reclined my body against the brick wall.
"So how come you were listening in on them?"
"Jesus!" I jumped at Stiles' sudden appearance.
He just smirked triumphantly.
Once I composed myself, I spoke the lie I was told to say, "One of them is my cousin. I'm just tagging along till he's done his job."
"Which one, Mr. Grumpy Pants or Goldie Locks?"
"Dean, Mr. Grumpy Pants." I found myself smiling at his pet names for them.
"So are you from around here then?"
I shook my head, "Just moved here from San Fran." I replied. "Starting school tomorrow."
"Sweet!" Stiles grinned, "you just made a new friend then." He patted my back.
I laughed a little.
"Well, have to get going. See ya Noah!" And with that, Stiles paced away from me and into a blue jeep, speeding away.
I waited half an hour so, mostly thinking about my father or Allison, before the boys came back.
"How'd it go?"I asked as we walked towards the impala.
Dean shrugged and Sam replied with, "We're going to need to do a lot of research…"
Dean grinned, his feet scuffing against the side walk. He wrapped a tight arm around me, and another one around his brother. "We're going to need a lot of pie then."
I hopped into the impala and clicked my seatbelt in. Dean turned out of the parking lot and onto the main road.
He stepped on the gas pedal, the road vanishing behind us.
A/N: Hope you enjoy this first chapter! I am unsure if I will continue or not, so let me know your thoughts.