Sometimes You Need a Break

by specialsmiley1315

It's not easy being a hunter. The life is brutal; physically, mentally, and emotionally. Most hunters lose themselves in the job, but some band together to remind each other why life is still good.

*Hi everyone! This is a SPN/TWD crossover in the Supernatural universe. This is done in Daryl's POV, and is slightly based off my longer crossover His Mystery Girl. You don't have to read that to understand this story. I hope you enjoy it! Reviews are greatly appreciated. Thanks!*

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This life ain't easy, especially when you live the life we live. Compared to the normal human being our life expectancy is low and our liver's crap out from alcohol abuse before we have the chance to see forty. It's a price that we pay in order to keep the world in the dark about the things that go bump in the night. Each of us ended up in this life somehow. The most common reason is losing someone you love. That's the very reason why we hunters stick to ourselves, riding solo when we hunt, but not us. Each of us started out on our own, learning the trades of the job through trial and error or by living it as a small child. The ten of us are a family, not through blood, but something stronger; love. We're a mismatched group of people who have been to hell and back. The connection we share out rivals the bonds of lovers. I've met a lot of hunters throughout my years, heard names passed through the rumor mill, and knew who I could trust and couldn't, and I wouldn't pick any other group of people to be sitting with now.

Rick sips at his beer, nearly spewing it all over the bar with the comment Michonne makes. I take a swig of my cold beer, letting the watered down bubbles quench my thirst. Rick has been my eyes and ears for years, giving me clearance to the weird cases that would come through the police station. I tried to keep him out of it for as long as I could, but a damn demon got to his wife and son before Merle and I could kill the son of a bitch. The man was never the same after that, but Michonne brought him back.

She was lost just like he was. They were widows, parents who couldn't save their children. Inside they were shattered, drowning in the agony that had consumed their souls. Killing everything I sight was the only thing that made it better, but it was a quick fix. The grief was still there, the shattered pieces of their souls still strewn about, waiting to be put back together. It was their friendship that saved them from an early death. The two are glued to the hip, feeding off the strength they give each other. It makes them an unstoppable pair when they hunt.

I glance over my shoulder at the pool table in the corner of the dive bar. Through the throngs of people, Dean and Merle stand in the corner shooting pool, empty beer bottles crowding the high table next to them. Sam, Carol, and Glenn lean against the wall watching them, amused smirks on their faces as Merle gives Dean a run for his money. I sip at my beer, the carbonated bubbles tingle my tongue. The two eldest brothers are likely to be in a fight once a week, bickering over the most stupid shit. But they manage well enough, ready to defend each other in a heartbeat.

Sam steps away from the wall, whispering something to Dean, making him crack a smile. If it wasn't for the Winchesters, Merle and I would have been torn to shreds or worse, turned into vamps. We were eager, careless, and jumped the gun on a hunt, underestimating the size of a nest in some back country town. Sam and Dean happened to be working the same case, showing up in time to save our kidnapped asses. It was an unbelievable moment. We had heard the stories of the famous Winchester brothers and all that they had done; the good and the bad.

All the crap those hunters talked of when they were half in the bag were morons. These guys were heroes, predisposed to a shitty story that they had no control over. They cared, worked side by side with us. Rumors always said that if you crossed a Winchester you should dig a grave. Everyone believed that they used people, got them killed. That wasn't the case. They were family, protecting each other no matter what. How can you be blamed for saving family? It's what I spent my whole life doing, watching Merle's ass and he watched mine, keeping us safe from an abusive father and then from the monsters that prowled the night.

Years after that night I ran into the brothers again on a hunt, meeting another name that had been spoken with reverence in the hunting world. A shot is plopped down in front of me, pulling me out of my head as I look to my right to find my girl; Aria Redford. The surrogate daughter of Bobby Singer, protégé of John Winchester, and Sam and Dean's heart and soul, she is known for kicking ass, man and monster, being impulsive, and able to strike the fear of God into a demon. Her back story is one that rivals most hunters, the worst of the worst. Sam and Dean are combined as number one on the list of best hunters and Aria comes in second. The three of them have saved this world, a trio of death and resurrection.

Those cupid lips pull back in a bright smile as she tucks a dark brown lock of hair behind her pierced ear, taking a quick swig of her own beer.

"Sooo, I was thinking…" I smirk at the slight slur of her words, the neck of my brown bottle dangling between my fingers,

"Yeah?"

"Mm hmm," her forest green eyes sparkling in the dim light with excitement, "And I've concluded that you look bored."

I shake my head, taking a swig of my almost empty bottle, "Nah, just enjoying a beer." She sidles up to me, lips brushing my ear while her fingers trail up my thigh.

"Really, because I think you're lying," she whispers in my ear, her breathy voice washing over me like warm honey, sending my heart a flight before she pulls away to meet my sharp blue gaze. I run my hand across her lower back, her shirt riding up and letting our skin meet with an electric spark that never gets old, as I wrap my arm around her waist and tug her close.

"Well, if I'm lying, how do you plan on fixing that?"

I play with the belt loop of her jeans, itching to sneak out now and have a night alone with her. We've been fighting a constant war with Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory. There's been no down time, no chance to just enjoy the others company like in the beginning. I've missed that and now that everything is quiet on the war front, I want to take full advantage of the break.

A sly smile breaks out across her lips as she pulls away, tone playful and full of promise, "Guess you'll just have to wait and see."

Her curvaceous hips sway to the beat of the soft country song playing in the background, heading for the Greene sisters seated at a high table by the wall. Maggie and Beth greet her with big grins, the three instantly falling into conversation. The two sisters were raised in the life much like Sam and Dean. Their mother passed away a few years ago, their father following just last year. The Greene family name was not nearly as popular as the Winchesters, but the family was always known for having a bed to crash in and back-up at the ready.

The girls were trained by their father, taking up most of the duty once Hershel got too old for it. He spent the last decade of so tending to wounded hunters and doing research for those who needed the extra hand. The Greene house was much like Bobby's, from what I gather. It was a hunter oasis, a break from the crappy motel rooms and greasy drive thru food. Aria talks with the two, the sister's smiles growing wider with each word.

Merle whoops in victory, Dean immediately starting in with the usual best two out of three. Truth is they are an even match. Merle has picked up on Dean's strategy and vice versa. They 'd be better off teaming up and winning us some cash instead of battling each other and boosting their own egos.

Glenn grins at the guys, brushing his growing black hair out of his face as he pushes off the wall and heads towards the table of girls. He kisses the side of Maggie's head, slipping an arm over her shoulder where she intertwines her fingers with his. They are one of the few hunters I know that have managed to be successful in a relationship, tying the knot and all. We've all been betting in secret when the two are going to finally have a kid. Two years and the money pot only continue to grow.

I'm still not sure of the real story, seeing as how the two of them have different versions on how they met, but I always just assume Maggie's version is right since she says she saved his ass from a vengeful spirit. The kid was new to the life and Maggie was well versed in it. After that, they stuck together, Maggie teaching him everything she knew, making him a seasoned veteran now. Beth didn't stick around to hunt with the two, going off on her own after a while either hunting with her sister and brother in law or Carol.

The young woman is meek looking with her young features and big innocent doe eyes, but it is all a ploy. Beth is a fierce fighter and can kick ass with high heels on, although she is known for being more gentle-hearted than her sister, taking cases more roughly than most of us. After Hershel's death she took over the maintenance of the farm house, keeping it the much needed hunter oasis, helping with research and backup for any nearby hunters.

This was the best decision for her. The life was getting to Beth, taking away that bright light in her, the one that we all cherished because for most of us it was burnt out. With her staying back and taking on the caring role, she's smiling more, that ray of hope back in those big blue eyes, reminding us that there is still hope, still good in this scary world.

"Need a refill?"

I nod, passing my empty bottle towards the bartender as he pops the cap off a fresh cold one. The bar is busy with lots of chatter and clinks of bottles and glasses. People are lined up against walls, carefree as they work to get that fuzzy good feeling. I tip my beer to the bartender in thanks before taking a swig, letting the ice cold bubbles slip down my throat.

"Your brother's a fucking ass," Dean gripes; plopping down in the bar stool beside me and waving the bartender over.

"Yeah, what's new?"

The guy is the only family that I have, but he isn't winning any brother of the year award. He'll have your back in a fight and is a tough motherfucker; and on the other hand, he'll sleep with your girlfriend and cut you down faster than he can sling back a shot. Nowadays he hunts on his own while I work with Aria and the brothers. It didn't used to be like this. When I was younger I followed him around like a lost puppy, but as the years past I stopped, especially after he disappeared for a year because of a debt he owed to some not-so-neighborly types. That's when I met Aria.

The bar is nothing special, typical of a small town. You've got your bar counter and then a section of tables and booths of some type. Pictures and license plates adorn the walls, neon lights of different beer logos spread out through the place. I grab a seat at the edge of the bar, one away from the other patron.

"What can I get for you, dear?" The bartender is a middle aged woman, probably early forties. Her auburn is partially pulled back, the rest hanging around her shoulders in slight waves.

"A beer."

"Coming right up." I nod my thanks as she walks away, taking a look around.

It's fairly busy tonight. Nothing like a Friday night rush where people's voices are so loud you can't hear the person next to you speaking, let alone hear the music. Tonight the conversations are a humming background noise as the jukebox dominates the air with its country sound. I scan the crowd, keeping my guard up as always. The hunt is over, no chance of a threat, but there are other creatures, seeking vengeance just like us hunters.

"Here you go." A brown bottle is set in front of me on a cardboard coaster, beads of water dripping down the sides.

"Thanks."

The woman smiles warmly, patting the counter, "Name's Kate. Holler if you need anything."

I nod before taking a quick swig of the carbonated drink. This life is a lonely one. The other patrons talk the day's troubles away with their friends while I sit here silently suffering from the burdensome secret I carry.

'Merle was somebody to talk to.'

Only that shithead left my ass in the dust. I don't even know if the last member of my family is alive. We are supposed to have each other's back, that's what brothers do. Guess Merle doesn't feel the same since he just abandoned me at a hotel room in the middle of a hunt; no note, nothing as to where he went. Asshole just left, refusing to answer my calls no matter how many times I call or how many raging voicemails I leave.

The glass ring meets my lips again, draining a good amount in a couple of sips. "Need another?" Kate asks as she comes to my end, grabbing a bottle of whiskey. I glance at my beer, finding it nearly empty.

"Yeah."

"Give me a minute."

Kate heads towards the opposite end of the bar, placing the bottle of whiskey on the counter with a shot glass. I lean forward, snatching a peek at the person who ordered the whole bottle of liquor. It's a woman pulling out a wad of cash, laying down several twenties for Kate. She looks to be in her late twenties, maybe early thirties. Dark brown hair is tangled up high atop her head in a bun, wisps hanging in her face and around her heavily pierced ears. A petite tattoo sits behind her right ear, a type of feather peeking out and flowing into her hairline.

The woman gives an easy smile to Kate, but it's forced. She stands at the counter, pouring a shot and downing it in a second before refilling the glass. Her features are soft, but a girl who can drink whisky straight is no a flower petal. There's just something that tells me she is not someone you fuck with.

"Sorry about the wait," Kate places another beer in front of me, interrupting my staring.

"Thanks," I murmur, turning my attention back to the attractive brunette. Forest green eyes stare back at me, face blank but eyes curious. Immediately, I drop my gaze, taking a hearty sip of my beer.

'Way to be a creep, dumbass.'

I take another sip, shaking my head at myself. Merle would be laughing his ass off if he was here, going on what a pansy I'm being.

"Girls are meant to be looked at little brother."

He was always such an asshole to women, anyone really. His big mouth and shitty attitude got him into trouble constantly, and I was always there having to save his sorry ass, making me look like a dick too for supporting the asshole. A green bottle is plopped down beside me, someone sliding into the empty seat next to me.

"Can I get another shot glass?"

It's the woman from the other end of the bar. She shrugs out of her brown leather coat, hanging it on the back of the bar chair before turning to face me, hand extended,

"Aria Redford."

It takes me a moment to react, stunned that this woman is talking to me. He hand remains extended and I finally take it, feeling the rough callouses of her hand rub against mine as I shake her hand firmly.

"Daryl," I introduce, meeting those dark green eyes. Kate sets a shot glass down as Aria asked, hurrying over to another customer. Aria fills the two shot glasses, questioning,

"Got a last name?" She hands me the shot, crossing her legs with the attitude of a professional. It's nothing like the typical interactions I have with girls. None of them have this kind of confidence. It's oozes from her and damn it's the hottest thing I've ever seen.

"Dixon." She nods, knocking her shot back. I can't help but watch her, my gaze glued to her slender neck. Quickly, I follow suit, downing thee amber liquid, letting it send a comforting warmth down my throat and warm my insides.

"So, what do you want to know?" My brows scrunch together in confusion,

"What?"

Her pale pink lips curve up at the corners, "I saw you staring. You don't look like a pervert, so I figure there's something you want to know. That or I've misread this whole situation and made a really big mistake."

A quick laugh escapes me and I shake my head, taking a sip of my beer, feeling completely at ease with the green-eyed beauty. "Just surprised a little thing like you would order a bottle of whiskey and not a fruity cocktail."

Those eyes trace over my features, a wide smile pulling at those cupid lips, "Looks are quite deceiving, Mr. Dixon." She pours another shot for the both of us, leaving them off to the side as she waves Kate over.

"What can I get for you, dear?" she questions, slapping a towel over her shoulder. Aria glances at my beer bottle, putting up two fingers,

"Two beers, please?"

Kate smiles warmly, patting the counter before she goes off. I stare at Aria, completely unsure of what is happening. Isn't it the guy who's supposed to buy the drinks, be the more assertive one? She looks over at me, her brows furrowing together,

"What? Yours is almost empty and if you plan on talking to me the rest of the night you better keep up."

'Who is this girl?'

I can't help but shake my head in the slightest, letting my lips curl up in a grin.

'This is gonna be a fun night.'

I down the rest of my beer as Kate sets two bottles on the bar top. "So," Aria slips her fingers around the neck of the bottle, raising it to her smirking lips, "You just passing through or what?"

That professional façade is crumbling away, the girl in front of me growing more playful and my veins buzz with excitement.

"Just passing through. What about you?" She tips her bottle towards me,

"Same. Now is it for business or personal?"

"Business," I answer, twirling my beer around the glossy countertop as I think of the hunt. Three dead before I could stop the damn spirit. Even if there was nothing I could do, I still feel guilty. It's a permanent feeling that comes with the job. The green bottle of whiskey enters my line of sight as she fills my shot glass. There is an ocean of understanding in her gaze as I meet them catching those beautiful dark green eyes full of understanding.

"I'm going to guess it's not the most desirable job?" She doesn't fill her glass, keeping her full attention on me, genuinely interested in what I have to say compared the others girls I typically meet in bars like this.

"Not really," I sigh, taking the shot and trying not to think about all the shit I've seen. So many good fucking people who didn't deserve the fates they got.

"I get it. My job's not really something I would ever want someone to have to do," she explains with such deep empathy that I have to look at her to see the burdens she is carrying in that forest of green that are her irises.

"Guess we're both in the shit business then." The comment manages to lighten up her darkening features and I take another drink of my beer, "You usually just walk up to strangers and share a bottle of booze?"

I don't want to keep dwelling on this common ground we share. The playful attitude that she has is addictive and I want to be selfish, basking in that fun aura. And what better way to do that than finding out just who this girl is.

"Only attractive men with southern drawls and blue eyes that stare at me from across the bar," she admits, those eyes darkening as she trails them over me, smirking. My skin burns red and I clear my throat, downing another hearty sip of the beer.

'What are you, a girl? Stop fucking blushing.'

"So, um, I saw you have a tattoo," I spit out awkwardly, shifting in my seat as I twirl the brown bottle on the glossy wood. Compliments are not something that I handle very well, and admittedly this is the most I've probably talked with a woman. Typically, I brush the woman off or we just move right to the sex. Aria's smile grows, not bothered by my shyness all of a sudden.

"Observant. I like that," she teases, wrapping those lips around her beer before explaining, "As a matter of fact I do."

She twists her head pulling the shell of her ear forward to reveal a dream catcher done in black ink. It's not complicated or very detailed, just your standard dream catcher with a simple weave and a little bead tied in the center. Three feathers dance in the imaginary wind, flying along her hairline like they are trying to disappear into the sanctuary of her locks.

"I also got two more, but I need some more liquid courage to show those off."

I try not to imagine where those other patches of ink could be as I secretly look her up and down. She's the kind of girl that every guy dreams of; curvy in all the right places, whiskey drinker, and can stand her own. Her personality alone is sexy as hell and damn if she's not some kind of drug because I don't want to stop this.

She pours herself a shot, downing it immediately before she takes another look up and down my body, "What about you? Got any ink?"

"Five," I answer, lifting my right arm up to show off the devil on the inside of my bicep. Her gaze sweeps over the art, admiring it before I lower my arm."The others you have to get me drunk enough to show," I quip, throwing her comment right back at her.

A hint of a challenge settles in her shoulders, a shot of excitement racing down my spine. "Touché," she remarks, grabbing the bottle of whiskey and filling both of the shot glasses. "Well, since we're on the topic of getting drunk. I planned on calling a cab back to my room tonight."

She turns to me, shot glass in hand, and those dark eyes peering into me, "You're not going to let a girl drink by herself are you?"

I raise my glass, "Hell nah."

And I kept up with her drink for drink. We were both hammered, calling a cab back to her motel which happened to be the same crappy one I was staying at. I knew I should have gone to my room, but I didn't want to let her go. Getting her number wasn't an option because relationships are dangerous in this life. You can't promise to protect them. But the decision was made for me, her hands wrapping tight in my shirt, dragging me along to her room as the cab pulled away. In the morning she was gone before I woke, a hotel pad of paper resting on the nightstand,

"Thanks for giving me a chance to forget my crappy job. Hope I helped you do the same."

For months I replayed that night over and over in my head, hoping that for once in my life I could be lucky and see her again. I didn't have to explain anything and she understood. There's was this easiness with her that I never had, not even with Merle. I craved it for over a year until I ran into her again, only to realize that the two of us were hunters. And she wasn't just any hunter either; she was working with the Winchesters.

It was complete coincidence that we met up. I was passing through a town in Kansas, catching a cold one for the night when she plopped down at the bar next to me like she did all those months ago. She hadn't changed in the slightest on the outside, but that playfulness in her eyes was dimmed, replaced with a haunting past.

Sam and Dean recognized me immediately and it was nice to see the two again. We ended up teaming up, working the case in town together. In the end when we were ready to go our separate ways, Sam offered me a chance to work with them. They had told me what they were up against, trying to close the gates of Hell forever. It seemed impossible, but hearing the rumors there was nobody else who could do it but them. So, I jumped on the band wagon. Merle was still MIA and closing the gates of Hell sounded pretty damn awesome.

It wasn't long after we teamed up that Aria and I ended up back in bed together thanks to our good friend alcohol. But that morning after was a lot different. It wasn't just the fact that she was actually there when I woke up this time, she wasn't a stranger anymore. She was one of my closest friends, the only girl that managed to make me feel loved, something that my piece of shit father beat out of me.

There is this calm when she's around, an air of safety that only she manages to bring me. It was what home should feel like, walking into a place that is warm and inviting and safe. Nothing can touch you, and you are free to be yourself completely. That's what it's like being with Aria, it's like being home.

It was rocky in the beginning, both of us trying to navigate this new life while balancing hunting. We both had old wounds that were like black clouds following us, and it took a long time to finally open up, to let them heal. The brothers tried to help me out, giving me little bits of info without betraying her trust. She pulled the truth out of me before I even came close to cracking the safe that she kept all her nightmares locked in. But eventually it all came out. I learned about the demon who slaughtered her family, how she spent a year being tortured by the same monster years down the road. After that, after seeing how brave and courageous she was I had no doubt in my mind about her. There was no going back, no leaving this girl that had walked into my life.

"I swear man, one day I'm going to break a pool stick off in his ass," Dean huffs, glaring over his shoulder at Merle, who is now flirting with some blonde bimbo.

I glance over at my brother, snorting, "You jealous or something?"

"Are you kidding? I have more class than that," he snaps with a huff, brows raised in disbelief that I would even consider the thought. I look over the blonde more carefully, shaking my head. She was all over Merle, hair bigger than her boobs and face painted thick in makeup. I agree with Dean, he did have a lot more class than Merle.

"Yeah, but you're still a sucker for blondes," I joke, taking a quick swig of my beer. His emerald eyes are trained behind me, a small grin on his lips,

"That's a damn fact right there."

I glance over my shoulder, following his line of sight to find Beth. She sips on her mixed drink, clasping her petite hands over her mouth as she giggles.

"It's your funeral, man."

He takes a long drink of his beer, eyes still glued on the younger Greene, "Damn worth it." I shake my head.

Maggie would kick his ass before he even got to make a move. Dean's reputation with the ladies is well known in the hunting community. Hell would have to freeze over before Maggie Greene even let Dean Winchester have a chance with her baby sister.

"Don't even think about it, Winchester." Michonne leans into the bar to look at Dean pointedly.

"What?! I'm just looking!" He defends with a hurt expression.

"Yeah, ten seconds too long."

Rick and I snicker at Michonne's words, Dean rolling his eyes. Sam walks over to us, standing beside his brother as he waves the bartender over. Immediately, Dean turns to his younger brother,

"Sam-"

"Whatever they are saying, I agree."

The three of us crack up, gaining the attention of the rest of the bar, but it feels so good to laugh like this. There is son much sadness in our lives, and the only way to combat it is to remember that life can be fun.

"Aww, screw you guys." Dean finishes the rest of his beer, turning to leave, but Sam claps him on the shoulder, passing him the shot that the bartender just poured.

"Bitch," Dean grumbles, taking the shot of whiskey.

"Jerk," Sam fires back before they down their shots in synchronization.

No matter who you are, you can't help but admire these two men. They've been through a ton of shit, yet they never forgot who matters the most; each other. Family means everything to them. They'll go to hell and back for each other, give their life for one another. Who wouldn't want that kind of dedication, that love?

The music cuts out and all conversation quiets, everyone looking around confused until a country guitar bursts loud and proud through the speakers. I glance at Sam and Dean, brows knitted together as I turn in my seat to scan the bar. Aria pushes off the jukebox, strutting across the bar floor, weaving in and out of the crowd, and I shake my head with a smirk. Her voice carries over Sam Hunt's voice as she belts the lyrics to "Leave the Night On."

All eyes are on her while she dances to the beat, swaying her hips in a slow sashay; knowing that it drives me nuts. Those forest eyes meet mine from across the room as she sings,

"I can't sleep with you on my brain

I ain't anywhere close to tired

Your kiss has got me wired."

I lean back into the bar, resting my elbows on the edge as I watch her be the spontaneous girl she is. Beth drags Maggie out on the floor and the three girls draw whoops and cheers from the onlookers as the rest of the bar joins in, singing their hearts out. Michonne drags Rick off his stool into the crowd, the two laughing like drunken teenagers. My eyes are glued to my girl as she climbs up on a table, pulling Beth and Maggie up with her. All the girls start climbing up on the tables and the crowd goes wild as the final chorus sounds.

Aria hops down from the table, eyes locked on me as she starts the last chorus, dancing her way to me. She straddles my lap, oblivious to the world around us, cheeks flushed, and eyes wild with excitement.

"Having fun now?" She questions out of breath, wrapping her arms around my neck.

"Always with you, girl."

I catch her cupid lips with mine, the song ending as the final strums of the guitar play out, the crowd whooping and cheering. Sometimes when you live a life like us, you need a break, and I can't imagine mine differently.