Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.
So, this is my first Supernatural fanfic and I'm super excited!
Sam, Dean, and Cas aren't the main focus of this story though they do play a part, so meh I guess I don't remember what the purpose of this sentence was.
Oh, and Rated T for swearing, mostly.
Chapter 1:: Not Too Young
Felix strode into the bar with all the arrogance the word 'strode' implies. He didn't hold the door for the old man leaving, and he winked slyly at a woman at the counter as he slid onto a stool.
The bartender eyed him skeptically and paused in wiping the counter.
"I think you're in the wrong place, kid," he said.
Felix looked down at himself incredulously. "Oh, yes, I suppose I am a bit overdressed for a place such as this." He smiled at the man.
The bartender set down his cloth and said, "Look, fellow, I run an honest business here. Come on, get out."
"I'm not here for a drink," Felix said. "I'm looking for someone."
"Like I said, you need to get out of here."
Felix smirked at the man and reached into his pocket. The man tensed-after all, this was Texas-but Felix only held a black leather wallet in his hand.
"I'm sure that we can figure something out," he said, and took a fifty-dollar bill from the wallet. He placed it on the counter. The man hesitated for a half-second before quickly pocketing it.
"What d'ya wanna know?"
"Did a man come in here today, wearing a suit and tie?"
"'Lot of men come in here, 'lot of 'em wearin' a suit and tie."
"This man, he might have asked you some questions about Jax Goldson?"
The man thought for a moment, possibly wondering how much he ought to tell Felix. "Yeah, a guy just came in here and asked about Jax. Said he was an old friend of his."
"What specifically did he ask about?"
"Y'know, I don't quite recall."
Felix sighed and pulled out a hundred-dollar bill this time.
The man took it. "Wanted to know about Jax's wife's death, just a few days ago. Her heart was ripped out, from some kind of animal. Poor Jax was devastated."
Felix nodded sympathetically. "Anything else?"
"Wanted to know where he lived."
"What did you tell him?"
"And who're you, again?"
"The guy who's giving you two hundred bucks," Felix answered, and gave him another hundred.
"27 North Square Street."
"Thank you," Felix smiled and stood.
A middle-aged man held the door for him as he left. Felix didn't thank him as he passed through, because he knew that he was entitled to the man's politeness.
Once outside, he spotted his car on the side of the road immediately. His driver was leaning on the side of it, just finishing off a cigarette, and wearing the usual black leather. When he saw Felix, he flicked it onto the sidewalk and opened the door for him.
Felix settled into the cushioned seat, and pulled out a package of cigarettes of his own. His driver, Eric, lowered himself gracefully into the driver's seat, and sighed in protest as he saw Felix light one, but he knew better than to speak about it. That conversation always came out to no good.
"I need to go to 27 North Square Street," Felix told Eric.
Eric hesitated. "There's still two hours left of visiting hours at the hospital."
Felix stiffened. "So?"
"So, you promised your mother that you would visit her while you were in town."
"So?" He asked again. Eric looked at him in surprise.
"She's your mother, Felix."
"I have a job to do, Eric. That's more important than family." He said the word family with a bit of disgust. He was unused to the way a family worked.
"Personally, I don't think you even understand what a family is," Eric muttered under his breath.
Felix thought of about twenty things he could say to that statement, but then decided it wasn't worth the effort.
"I need to go to the motel first, to pick some things up."
Eric nodded and drove away in silence.
Felix wasn't surprised when the door to Jackie Goldson's house wasn't all the way closed. He smiled slightly and opened it enough that he was able to slip through the doorway.
He had brought a silver knife with him for stealth, but still had a gun in case that approach failed. In any case, he wasn't here for Jax, specifically. The silver was just a precaution. He had planned to arrive just after Jax was dead. Felix's purpose here was for the men who were hunting it, and the best way to meet them, he figured, was to pretend that he was a hunter who happened to be hunting the same beast as them. A bit young for hunting, they might think, but certainly they've seen weirder things.
Felix flicked his flashlight on, and looked around the room he'd just entered. There were boxes, packed and labeled, all around, like Jax Glodson was planning to move out. Felix moved on.
"Hey!" A shout came from upstairs. The corner of Felix's mouth twitched into a small smirk, and then he rushed to the sound.
When he got to the bottom of the staircase, he heard a commotion, then a gunshot. He quickly moved out of the way as a body tumbled down the stairs.
"Hey!" Same call, different voice.
Felix looked up and flinched as particularly bright flashlights were pointed directly into his face. He looked up the stairs and saw two men, with their guns also aimed at right at his heart.
The Winchesters. Felix tried his hardest to keep a straight face, and was almost sure he succeeded. He clicked his own flashlight off with his thumb and raised his hands in surrender.
"Who the hell are you?" Dean Winchester demanded.
Felix looked up at him; his face was shadowed, as well as his brother Sam's. He felt his heart jump in his chest. Would they recognize him? Most likely not; he looked a whole lot different from last time they met. And it had been years. He was older.
Of course, if things didn't go as planned, he could always erase their memories of him (hopefully without erasing all their memories).
"Felix Turner. How about you?"
His question was ignored. "What are you doing here?"
Rude. "Well, I came here to stab a werewolf," he answered, "but it seems you've beaten me to it."
Sam and Dean hesitated for a moment, exchanged glances, then they lowered their guns. Felix lowered his hands. Sam went downstairs first, and Dean followed. They were both careful to step over the dead body.
"I'm Sam Winchester, and this is Dean," Sam said.
Felix held out his hand. "Well, nice to meet you."
Sam shook his hand, and then Dean.
"So, you're a hunter?" Dean asked.
Felix nodded. "Yes."
"A little young for that, maybe?"
"No."
"And what about your parents?"
"They were never home."
"'Were?'" Same asked.
"I live with my uncle now." Actually, the guy my dad pays to keep me "out of trouble."
"And do you live here, in Carmine?"
"For the time being." Felix wet his lips. "If we are going to continue this conversation, could we possibly do it elsewhere? That was rather clumsy of you, using a gun in the middle of a quiet neighborhood."
Dean and Sam both raised their eyebrows. Felix blinked once, and focused on their minds. They were going to take him out to eat burgers, because he really, really needed to speak to them.
"Okay, then," Dean said. "Um, I feel like a good burger, how about you guys?"
Sam shrugged and Dean looked at Felix.
"Um, okay," he said.
...
Felix climbed out of the Winchesters' Impala, and tried not to slam the door. Eric was very good at not slamming car doors. He was also good at waiting until Felix had just barely gotten inside the car, and slamming the door closed full force when he was pissed.
Once inside and at table, a teenage waitress with quite the bitchy face came and asked what they wanted. Bacon cheeseburgers for both Dean and Felix, and a salad for Sam.
The waitress nodded and walked away.
"So, where are you from?" Sam asked Felix.
"Maine." Felix picked at his fingernails underneath the table.
"Wow, that's pretty far up north. Does it get cold up there?"
Felix nodded. "Hard to get used to after living in Florida, but it's bearable."
Sam nodded slowly. "Oh."
"So, Felix, you're a hunter," Dean said, getting to business.
"Yes, obviously." Felix looked up at him.
"And how old are you?"
"Fifteen, as of last week."
He remembered last Wednesday in Louisiana, on his birthday.
"You should call your father," Eric said from the table when Felix came into the room. Felix had just woken up and showered, and hadn't gotten around to getting a shirt on yet. Eric always tried not to notice the scars, Felix could see. But they were hard not to notice.
"Why would I do that?" Felix yawned, and sat in the chair across from Eric.
"Because it's your fifteenth birthday, and your father would want to speak with you."
"If he wants to speak with me, then he can call me." He took a tentative sip from the glass of water he left on the table last night.
Eric sighed. "Your mother is dying, Felix. You are going to have to make the effort sometimes."
Felix leaned forward, against the table. "I was gone for three years, Eric. During that time, my father never tried to make the effort. He didn't care that I saved his life-He doesn't care about me, period. If he really wants to call me, 'make the effort,' as you say, then of course I'll play along. But I'm not going to go out of my way to call him." He settled back into his chair. "Can you make me some toast, please?"
Eric stood and pushed in his chair. "Of course," he said with an exaggerated bow.
Felix sighed and looked away angrily. Sometimes Eric's sarcasm was unbearable.
"Here you go." The waitress set the boys' three plates on the table.
"Thanks," Felix said.
When she left, Dean began talking again. "So, let me get this straight. You aren't old enough to drive, and yet you're travelling all over the country, killing monsters?"
"If you think that my young age hinders my ability to hunt, I'll have you know that I keep an angel blade that I acquired myself in the kitchen. And a gun filled with silver bullets by the toilet. I've actually had a need for that, once." He smiled in fond memory. "And still managed to keep the piss in the bowl."
Dean blinked a few times. "Okay," he said, and took a bite from his burger.
Felix smirked and did the same.
This tastes like shit, he thought. Eric's are much better than this.
...
"You need a ride, kid?" Dean asked Felix once they were outside.
"Yes, could you?" Felix shoved his hands into his pockets.
"Of course. Where're you staying?"
"Motel on Birdsall."
Dean nodded. "Well, I guess we're lucky. That's where we're staying too."
I know, Felix thought. That's why I chose it.
"Ah, what a coincidence," he said.
In the car, Felix was silent, watching the lights go by. When they came to the motel, Felix and the Winchesters stepped out of the car.
"Thank you for the ride and for the burgers," Felix said.
"No problem." Dean replied.
"Have a wonderful night."
"Yeah, you too," Sam said.
Felix walked away in the direction of his room. He felt the brothers' eyes on him until he shoved his key into the keyhole and stepped through the door.
He was only expecting to see Eric in the room, still awake because he never sleeps when Felix is out, nibbling on a cracker and watching Game of Thrones. Instead, he saw Eric sitting at the table with another man. At first, Felix failed to recognize the other man, his tired face that turned from curious to angry as soon as he saw Felix. But then he recognized his own father, and he halted in taking his jacket off.
"Father." He quickly put his jacket back on. He didn't know if he'd have to run or not.
"Felix," his father, Marcus, said. He was and will always be opposed to not calling Felix by his real name. It took a while for him to start doing it at all, only after Felix had explained to him extensively the danger that any random, eavesdropping monster could hear them at literally any time, because Felix was far too lazy to bother with warding and any other precaution. And any time he used his powers too greatly, he was vulnerable to being found.
"Hello, father." Felix wished he was in his house in Louisiana, where his angel blade was hidden in his kitchen. As it was, he'd have to reach into the inside pocket of his jacket to get it and he didn't want his father to know how wary Felix was around him. "What are you doing?"
"Oh, just checking on you. To see if you died or not because you never call." Marcus answered.
"Father, please do not use sarcasm; you may not have noticed, but you are not good at it."
Marcus narrowed his eyes and stood quickly. He came at Felix purposefully, and Felix stepped back until he was stuck in the corner.
"Felix, do not give me attitude. I am not in the mood."
"I can't help but correct you when you fail, father," Felix said with a smirk. "It's in my nature."
Marcus' glare shriveled any confidence Felix had, and when he lifted his hand to strike Felix, his hand was stopped midair long enough for Felix to clear the hell out of the corner. When Marcus' hand was released, the punch which was meant for Felix only hit empty air. He looked confused for a moment, then he turned around slowly, a hell of a lot angrier than he already was. Felix resorted to hiding behind Eric's chair without making it look like he was hiding, holding his blade in his hand.
"Felix," Marcus said, eyeing the knife. "Put that away."
Felix shook his head and Eric chuckled lightly, his eyes in his book.
"Why are you here, Father?" Felix asked. "Say what you have to say and then leave."
"Your mother was worried about you," Marcus said. "But I knew that the only reason you didn't come to see her was because you're too preoccupied with your little hunting jobs."
Felix sighed. His father had changed in the years that he was gone, Felix knew. And his mother? Half-dead in a hospital bed.
And Felix knew that it was hard for them to think of him as their son. He'd changed, too. Constant torture will do that to a person. Felix used to listen in on Marcus' thoughts, before it became too painful and then he decided that he didn't care. How he thought that this damaged teenager with gray hair and silver eyes wasn't his son. That his son had had beautiful red hair, a wonderful attitude, and always dinner ready for his parents. But Jesse had died in that cruel, experimental place filled with monsters and screams and too-bright lights, and now he was Felix.
And so Marcus hated Felix. And he began to realize that Felix was Felix and he had no other name, and calling him by his real name would be lying to himself.
"This wasn't just any hunting job," Felix told his father. "This was a golden chance that I couldn't pass up."
"Well, then, you could have called!" Marcus shouted. "You selfish bastard. You have no idea the pain you cause me and your mom! You don't care about her, either, do you? You don't care about anyone but yourself!"
"Fine, if it matters that much to you, then I'll visit my mother tomorrow!" Felix shouted back.
"No."
"What?"
"If it matters so little to you, then don't even bother."
Felix looked at him in confusion for a moment, then spoke. "I think it's time for you to leave, father."
"Yeah, I think so, too." He walked over to the table, grabbed his jacket off the chair, and stormed out the door, slamming it behind him.
Felix and Eric looked at each other. Eric took a breath, as if he were going to say something, but then shook his head and turned back to his book. 1984, his favorite classic, and Felix's too, besides To Kill A Mockingbird, of course.
Felix could talk about books all day. That was the thing that nobody ever expected of him. Right now, though, he was too tired to speak a word. He took off his jacket and his shoes, but otherwise collapsed on his bed in all his clothes.
...
Sam and Dean entered their motel room, each making themselves comfortable in their own way.
"Did something seem a little off to you about that kid?" Dean asked Sam.
"Yeah, besides the fact that he's a fifteen-year-old who's got an angel blade?" Sam laughed humorlessly.
Dean shrugged. "I mean, the arrogance on that kid is unlike anything I've ever seen, but still, I feel like I've met him before."
Sam nodded. "Yeah, I know what you mean."
So there's the first chapter! Review and let me know how I did ^.^
Ciao!
-FuturisticVampire