Silence hung, cold and icily fragile. So many possibilities and consequences spun out from the words she had just said, infinite results available. Ali shivered in the draft of frigid air that blew through gutted windows from the Minnesota night beyond, her mind working a mile a minute. She realized it had only been a few seconds since she had last spoken, though it felt like absolute eons.

She watched Sam and Dean exchange looks again and waited to hear their verdict. It wasn't every day you ran into a girl you knew a decade previously after her entire family had been slaughtered by some supernatural creature.

Dean coughed. "Listen, lady—"

Sam cut him off by stepping in front of him, looking around them cautiously. "We need to take this conversation somewhere else. You never know who's watching."

Eyes slid left and right as Ali agreed. There could be a million things hiding in the darkness for all they knew—including the vamp they had apparently lost or run off.

"There's a nice enough bar not too far from here." It was also conveniently located by her motel, not that she'd tell them that. You never trusted another unknown hunter, let alone more than one, if you liked your head where it was at. It didn't matter that it was Sam and Dean and she had met them, briefly, during her childhood. It didn't matter that all of the Winchesters had a reputation in the business. You didn't trust anyone, anyone, until they gave you a solid reason to do so.

Dean nodded, mouth pulled down in a way that Ali could just tell meant he was thinking what the hell, they may as well take the chance. "I'm in."

He apparently spoke for both himself and his brother because Sam merely nodded as well. Ali vaguely remembered that, remembered Dean being the leader of the two of them, even quietly. Sam had followed him just as they both had their dad, no questions asked. Apparently, that hadn't changed. She wondered briefly at that—Sam had to be over legal drinking age now—but she shook it off as they made their descent to the street, just as wary of every shadow and sound as ever. She felt better once they were in the open, where a vampire or some other monster couldn't come leaping up at her from behind some broken furniture or something like that. There was safety under the open sky, cluttered with its buildings and masses of people.

Directly across the lot was a low, black, masculine looking car, obviously an older model but also taken care of quite well. The rest of the block was empty, all of the people gone home, away from this run-down manufacturing area of town. Ali glanced at it and then at the two men at her side.

"Yours?"

She kind of remembered that as well, though time had blurred her memory. But she remembered the boys—or the boys they had been—and their father having a black car those long years ago. She wondered if it was the same.

Dean nodded, lips pursed in the streetlight, obviously proud. "Yeah, yeah. It's an Impala."

Ali frowned, somewhat impressed. It looked like quite the nice car, not that she really knew anything about cars. But it was shiny and beautiful and looked like the perfect vehicle for two hunters like the Winchesters. She liked it. It seemed to suite.

Half a block down from their car was her own, a small and sedate silver sedan. She had gone for blending in when she had stolen it a few years back; she didn't like calling attention to herself unless she had to, especially when it came to normal people. It was just better that way. She saw Sam nod in the direction of her vehicle.

"That you?"

"Yeah. Follow me there?"

"Yeah, yeah. That sounds good."

Ali made her way to her car, digging into her pocket for the simple keyring she kept. No sentiment, no attachments. You couldn't afford to. She unlocked her car and slid inside, turning the dial on the radio down so Foo Fighters wasn't blasting anymore. It had been her pump up music and she obviously didn't need it anymore. She turned her car on, flashing her lights at Sam and Dean, before she pulled around and waited for them to reach her.

She led them to the bar, thoughts racing ahead of her, leaping around the car in dizzy circles. She pressed tense fingertips to her forehead in an effort to concentrate. Just…what the hell. What the hell. How had she run into Sam and Dean, of all people? And in freaking Minnesota of all places? It just seemed so odd. She had run into other hunters before, and heard of Sam and Dean, as well as their dad, but she hadn't seen any of them for over a decade. And now here they were? It was just weird.

She slid her ponytail from her hair and shook out the long, blonde masses of it, massaging the back of her head with one hand as she stopped at a light, hoping letting her hair down would release some of the tension at the back of her head. It seemed to help a little, at least.

They reached the bar a few minutes later, pulling into spaces right next to each other. Doors opened and slammed. Ali didn't wait for them but just strode inside, needing a drink more than ever. She had lost her target and she had run into ghosts from her past. Tonight had not been very good at all.

The bar was typical, crowded with people looking to get away for one reason or another with scarred wooden floors installed for easy clean up. She went and sat at one of the high-top tables, feet propped up on the rungs of her stool. Sam and Dean followed her, though it wasn't without wary looks. Yeah. Because she was going to jump two men several inches taller than her by herself in the middle of a bar. Because that sounded smart.

They sat at the table with her, staying close by each other's sides. She noticed it with a glance and filed it away to peruse over later. Right now, she wanted to get a look at the two of them in better lighting.

They had grown up hot, that was for sure. Dean was muscular beneath his leather jacket, with dark blonde hair and green eyes and stubble. Sam was even taller. He had retained some of his sweet look and his hair was just as long and shaggy as before. It made her smile slightly before a perky woman who seemed to be half boobs came over, smiling brightly.

"What can I do ya for?" She snapped her gum, making Ali's teeth clench in irritation, but Dean was smiling, leaning closer, oozing charm. Of course. He would go for the floozy.

"Well, Mel," he said with a peek at her name tag, "my brother and I would love a beer, if you don't mind, and our friend would like—"

"A beer too, please," Ali interrupted, glaring at Dean unappreciatively. She hated being spoken for, especially by someone she had technically just met.

"Sure thing. Those will be right out." She smiled widely at Dean before she turned and sauntered away, ass switching back and forth in her too-tight jeans. Ali scoffed, unable to help herself, and Dean turned to her.

"What?"

"What do you mean what?"

"I mean do you have a problem?"

"Yeah, a little bit. Do you have to go for someone so easy?"

Dean spluttered and Sam laughed, large hand covering his mouth as he eyed the two combatants, obviously excited for what was to come. His brother leaned forward, hand cupping his mouth as well, scrubbing away at it as if he were wiping away the words he wanted to say.

"What do you mean, easy?"

"Well, she's working at a bar, isn't she?" Ali explained, smiling sweetly. "Out here in this type of area? It's mostly middle-class, blue collar workers. Factory workers, mostly. And who mostly works at factories? Men. Why do you think her tits are hanging out and her jeans look like they've been painted on? The girl's obviously cruising for hookups and better tips and she's not too picky about either."

Dean sat and huffed out a breath, obviously at a loss for what to say. He looked at his brother but Sam laughed again, holding his hands up in surrender.

"Dude, I am so not helping you with this. You know I don't really like what a horn dog you are either."

"Oh, so, what? Now I'm a horn dog?" Dean shot back, rounding on his brother now. It made Ali smile because, God, but it was easy jabbing at him and getting under his skin.

"Pretty much," Ali and Sam said in unison. It made her smile turn toward him now. He returned it and she remembered him at twelve or thirteen, the last time she'd seen him—scrawny, all arms and legs, unsure of himself as all pre-teens were. But she also remembered that smile, the one that pulled tight at his face, and was so happy it just blew straight through you like sunshine.

Desperate Mel was back then with their drinks, flirting outrageously with Dean, who seemed put off since Ali and Sam had spoken. Mel left, somewhat huffy, upset because of her new reception, after only a few brief moments. Sam and Ali just snickered, drinking their beers as Dean chugged slightly at his own, pissed and cranky for it.

"So, we were on the job ten years ago? And it involved you?"

Well, that had been quick. Ali choked lightly on her beer before she swallowed and nodded, joy suddenly sucked away in lieu of serious conversation.

"Yeah, yeah. My family was killed."

"Where? When?"

Sam threw his brother an exasperated look. Dean shrugged, frowning in confusion, and Sam turned to her now, all charm and warm concern. She liked it better than Dean being so unsympathetic but it also made her feel like a child and that she didn't exactly appreciate either.

"What we meant to ask was, when did this happen? And where were you living? You know how it is moving around so much."

"Yeah, sure." Ali sighed, cupping her long-necked beer bottle, staring at the dark brown glass. Telling them wasn't optional, no matter how much she wished it was. She had brought it up and it would be rude to leave them hanging. She may have been a bit brash, but she did her best to not be intentionally rude for no reason—unlike another person sitting at their table.

"We lived in Columbus, Georgia. My dad was an Army man so we moved around a lot. He was stationed at Fort Benning but we lived off base because it was all really close to each other." Ali inhaled deeply, calming the nerves and anxiety that rose as a result of the retelling. It always happened like this. Thinking about it took her back to it—the fear, the terror, the uncertainty. Blurry and jagged all at once. She was sucked down into it, even if she fought it, and saw it living behind her eyes as she spoke to the Winchesters, who had been involved in it, those long years ago.

"It was July and it was grossly hot. Sticky. There were only three weeks until school started…"

"Wasn't this—" Dean began but Sam cut him off with a hand on his arm and a shake of his head. He was watching Ali and noticed that her eyes were far, far away. He remembered now. He remembered the skinny girl with the huge, scared hazel eyes swallowed up by a face white with fear. He remembered the massacre they had found. He had remembered his own terror, bright, clogging his throat.

He knew Ali was lost in it now, lost in those memories.

"I spent the night at a friend's. She lived only a few blocks away. We were woken at five in the morning by a call from the police. Her parents took me home—they said there had been an accident. When we got there, there were wheeling out black body bags…" She saw it all. The black bags on the gurneys. The red and blue lights flashing on her lawn and house. The cops scurrying to and fro like ants. She hadn't understood, she hadn't gotten it, before memory kicked in and she remembered all the movies and TV shows she had seen and what black body bags meant. There had been screaming, so much of it, before she realized it was her own.

She coughed, rubbing her hands on denim-clad thighs, coming back to herself. She flashed a look at the two brothers somewhat defensively. She hated how she got caught up in it all again, how she got pulled into it, despite her best efforts. It had been a decade and it still happened, because you never forgot it, you never forgot the night your entire family was ripped away from you.

"Anyhow. My parents had been murdered in their bedroom. Throats slit. My brother and sister were missing. The police thought that my parents had been killed so the kids could be taken. They thought I would have been too if—if I had been there."

And there was the rub. Her family was killed, her brother and sister kidnapped…and she hadn't been there. She had been gone and in one night her entire life had come crashing down and she'd been left, standing in the rubble, with no one to turn to and no place to call home.

"And then we came," Sam murmured, shooting her a look that was all heartfelt sympathy. It made Ali squirm a bit because she didn't deserve it, she didn't want it, and she wasn't used to it. It was Dean though that was the worst. By far. He understood and that was much more awful. Hazel eyes met green and she was only able to hold his gaze for a few seconds before she took a large drink of her mostly-full beer and dropped her gaze, needing an excuse to stop looking at him.

"Yeah. And then you came."

"If I remember right, we never figured out what did it. Dad thought it was some kind of demi-god or ghoul or something. Something that eats kids or whatever."

"Yeah, I remember." Ali smiled tightly, finishing more of her drink, neglecting to comment further. Sam threw his brother an exasperated look but Dean just shrugged, eyes wide and hands spread, apparently not realizing what he had done.

"How did you become a hunter, Ali? From what I remember, your parents were—definitely not the type." Sam leaned closer to her, all puppy dog eyes and wrinkled concern. It was soothing, to be sure, and she felt herself responding to it, even if she had protested the feeling earlier.

"It was because of you all, because of you and your father. The police didn't know what was going on and you all seemed to have an idea so…I decided that I was going to learn."

"You were going to learn?" Dean laughed sardonically. "Sweetheart, you can't just learn."

"Yeah, well, I did," she snarled, leaning across the table to get in his face. "And I'm obviously doing well, you ass, seeing as I'm still breathing."

"For now."

"Oh, for now? For now?" Ali laughed in his face, lip curled and eyes in angry slits. "You are unbelievable."

"I am? I am? Let me tell you what you are, sweetheart. You—"

"Hey, hey, hey." Sam moved closer between them, voice low, eyes serious. "Calm it down, you two, unless you want us kicked out. Now, listen, we need to figure out how to work together. Peacefully."

Ali and Dean both turned to look at him, incredulous, eyebrows arching high. Sam threw his arms open in question.

"Come on, you know we have to. We're both after the same vampire and we might have information that the other hunter doesn't have. It only makes sense that we all work together."

"Sam, come on." Dean nodded surreptitiously Ali's way. "We're not working with someone else on this. Not on a vampire. We don't need help on this."

"We don't know that, Dean."

Ali watched them, jaw set, just as against it as Dean was. She worked alone, she didn't need to work with anyone else. She might have wanted the help from time to time, but Dean was right. This was a simple vampire, that was all. There was no reason to get help. It simply wasn't needed. One little parasite and the problem here in Minnesota would be solved. As far as she could tell, there was only the one. Once he was exterminated, she could move on, and continue her hunt for the thing that had killed her family.

"Sam, I don't think that's the best idea," Ali murmured, shooting a stabbing look Dean's way.

His eyes rolled and his lip curled. "I actually agree with the chick over here on this one, Sam. You and I work together and with no one else. We don't need her help with some bloodsucker."

Sam leaned over to him, hand on his shoulder, mouth close to his ear. Over the noise of the bar, Ali could barely hear him, but she did just barely.

"Dean, she might know something we don't." Dean shook his head, contemptuous, but Sam's fingers tightened on his brother's shoulder. Ali looked away from them, listening as intently as she possibly could. "Listen, Dean, listen. We don't know what she may or may not know. We don't know how long she's been here. What if she does know something we don't know?" She saw Dean sigh with aggravation from the corner of his eye before they both turned to look back at her and she met them with a sunny smile.

"All right, sweetheart." Dean huffed out another sigh from his nose. "Let's work this out together, okay? We'll go after this vampire together and then part ways."

"Who said I wanted to work with you?" Ali smiled sweetly when the two brothers looked at her, completely taken aback. "I work alone and have ever since I started doing this. I don't need the two of you tramping around and scaring off my mark like you did tonight. I came out to do this job alone and that's how I'm going to finish it."

Dean threw his hands up in the air and turned as if to leave but Sam grabbed him by the lapel of his jacket and stopped him. His eyes, intense, never wavered from her own.

"Come on. You have to see the sense in this. We might have information you don't and vice versa. Besides, three? It's much better than one. We'll go out, we'll cut off the son of a bitch's head, and be done with it. No muss, no fuss. We'll get it done fast and easy and then we can all go and do what we do best the way we want to do it."

Ali sat there, stewing, for a few moments. She hated it, but Sam was right. It rankled, but he made sense. They could go out and take the leech down faster if it was the three of them, instead of just her. And she wasn't going to just concede and let them have it. No, she'd worked her ass off on this case tracking this sucker down and she wasn't going to let that go without a fight. Teeth gritted as she glared at them, both handsome, both dangerous in their own right. She finally sighed, head drooping.

"Fine. Fine. We'll work together and then we'll all be on our jolly way. Deal?" She stuck her hand out.

Sam was the first to take it, his grip firm and his smile pleased. They both glanced over at Dean as Ali moved to shake his hand. He stared at her fingers for a few moments, those green eyes sliding to her face, before he, too, finally relented and their palms gripped. It was quick, fast, fast enough that she still felt the slide of his calluses against her fingers when he had stood and finished his beer.

"All right, ladies, let's get this show on the road. The faster we get this planned and that dick pinned down, the faster we can get out of here."

"Ladies?" Sam asked, face somewhat pinched.

"Yup. Your hair's almost as long as hers." Dean jerked a thumb her way and laughed, shrugging beneath the leather of his jacket. "Come on, Blondie, what are you waiting for? You already got your invitation." He grinned cheekily as Ali made a derisive face and finished her own beer, slamming it to the table along with money for her drink. She joined the Winchesters as they walked out of the bar, Dean and Sam joking and fake hitting each other now, clearly entirely and one hundred percent comfortable with each other, even around other people.

It made Ali wonder just what she was getting herself into by agreeing to this deal.