Author's Note: Not sure if this should've been a one-shot, but I'll keep going so long as the ideas are there. Sorry if it seems a little out of order, I just write the ideas as they come to me. Hopefully it all makes sense in the long run.
One Strike Past Midnight
March 12th, 1992, Singer Salvage Yard, Sioux County
The driving rain makes visibility virtually nil in the darkness of midnight. Thunder shakes the house, rattling dishes while lightening flashes illuminate the old house. Bobby Singer stands steadfast just inside the door way of one of the upstairs bedrooms, a scowl set on his gentle features. One hand is clenched into a fist and the other holds his trusty shotgun, loaded with rock salt. He glares at the younger man approaching on the stairs, unease settling in his gut. The man wraps a torn piece of his own t-shirt around his hand, staunching the flow of blood from the skin between his thumb and index finger. He looks at Bobby, wondering where it all went wrong.
Behind Bobby, in the furthest corner of the bedroom, lightening flashes to reveal a small girl no older than seven or eight, shaking in fear. She huddles close to the ground, her face soaked with sweat. She wears a grey t-shirt, many sizes too big on her small frame, the front of which is stained dark with blood. She keeps her eyes on the man over Bobby's shoulder; she can still taste his blood mingling with her own from where her lip had split. Their heartbeats ring wildly in her ears as she tries desperately to tune them out. Too much sensory input confuses her, the instinct to flee in overpowering. She is somewhat calmed by the older man's presence.
The man stops at the top of the stairs, directly in front of Bobby. He's tired and anxious at the same time; the girl has put him on edge. He looks at the child, his blood staining her lips and chin, terror evident in her dark eyes. He had found her downstairs in the kitchen, a glass of water in her hands. Maybe she sensed his intentions; the glass was shattering on the tile floor when he realized she was running. Her panic, coupled with the alien territory had made her easy to catch. He had wrapped his hand around her neck and hauled her into the living room, heavy footsteps thudding down the stairs in response to the commotion. He was readying the silver stake when she twisted in his grasp, biting deep into the flesh of his hand. His response to the pain had been to backhand the child, sending her sprawling across the floor. Bobby had entered the room as the child scrambled up the stairs. He wasted no time in warning the other man, grabbing his gun and heading up the stairs after the girl.
The thunder echoes again, bringing each man closer to the reality of the situation, adrenaline slows. The older man is unwavering in his protection, the younger man realizes this.
"Get out of the way Bobby, you should know better than anyone that that thing needs to die." The man's voice is firm, almost desperate for the other man to see reason.
"You aren't going to kill a kid, I won't let you." Bobby hopes his words aren't as useless as they feel.
"That is no kid. I am not going to tell you again, get outta my way."
Bobby brings the shotgun up, hoping he'll only have to use it as a warning on the other man. The girl growls when John Winchester takes another step in her direction. He hesitates, watching the lightening mirror in her eyes. Eyes that scream supernatural…evil, at least to him they do. Bobby Singer seems to have forgotten this.
"Bobby, please, she ain't human. She's dangerous." John pleads with his friend.
"Yeah? Well right now she's terrified. She wasn't hurting anybody, this ain't none of your concern." He can see that the eldest Winchester isn't going to back down anytime soon.
The girl braces herself when she hears the younger man's heart beat faster. She knows he's not going to leave until she's dead. She understands she's not normal, not like the others. She knows both men hunt things like her.
"She ain't like the others, John, you know that. She's nearly the same age as Sam for Christ's sake!"
"You leave my children out of this!" John Winchester roars. Bobby sees his opportunity and rushes the younger man, using his shotgun to pin his friend to the wall.
"Run kid!" She's halfway down the stairs as soon as Bobby's done uttering the words. She blocks out the sounds of struggle behind her, throws the front door open and disappears into the rain-drenched night. As she runs through the trees, away from the house, she hopes the man she left behind, the only person to ever show her kindness, will be alright to deal with an angry John Winchester.