Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.
Eve stepped forward onto the muddy bank, the sound of the leaves crunching beneath her feet.
The wind was cold that night, but she didn't dare loosen her grip on the knife to tug her jacket closer. She had to be on target now. Eyes forward, always on her toes. She was alone now, and despite the fact that she could perfectly well gank a demon herself, it didn't make the job any easier.
"Looking for me?" a voice says.
She turns on her heel and holds the knife out in front of her, her body already poised like a spring, ready to pounce if needed. Before her, a person stands, (person being a loose term), weaponless, watching her with a smug grin spread on their face.
"Hello Anya," Eve says. She silently rubs the sharp steel of the knife against the skin of her thumb with twisted apprehension. "Long time no see."
Large brown eyes quickly wash to black in the moonlight. The demon shrugs. "True. Although I have a feeling that you're here not purely for pleasantries." She steps to the side, the leaves crackling with each step. Eve can't help but twitch slightly at the sound. It's the habit and curse of a hunter. They see everything. "What are you bothering me about this time?"
"My brother...Dean." She still has trouble choking out his name. It only comes with horrific pictures of claw marks being engraved into Dean's skin, fountains of blood pouring between the marks. But she swallows it all down and keeps face with the creature in front of her. "I was told that you could have some information that will help me."
Anya sighs. "Yes, I heard that you were on...what was it...an impossible quest in bringing his soul back from Hell?"
"Something like that."
"Well, I have nothing. Sorry."
The beginnings of rage flicker inside Eve as she takes a small step forward. "Don't lie to me. I'm willing to make a deal."
The demon scoffs. "I'm not a crossroad demon, you know. I have a little more dignity."
"I was told that you might have a few friends that know how to open Hell's gates."
"Don't believe everything you hear. I have no such contacts. What you're trying to do? It's crap. Don't think about opening Hell. And that's coming from me."
Eve sighed, her shoulders feeling heavy. Time was running out, and Bobby would be wondering where she was soon. "...Just give me something. Maybe you know someone who could-"
Anya forces out a quick, cruel laugh. "Someone who might go in there for you? Are you insane? Look kid, your brother is gone. Burning in eternal fire. He's getting what he deserves."
Something snaps inside Eve then.
An angry growl rips through her throat as she lunges forward, plunging the knife into the air as the demon slips to the side quickly. But Eve knows her next move before she's even there. She swings around quickly and catches the demon reaching towards her. In seconds, her leg is kicked out and the demon is on the ground with a yelp, it's leg bent backwards at an odd angle. It's hand flies up and catches Eve's arm, clawing a long mark into her arm. With a stone-like face, Eve kneels down and slams her elbow against it's nose with a rush of air and a large crack. Her hand is tightly clasped around the knife as she brings it down into the demon's heart, and falls back as a surge of light runs through the body and the creature goes limp.
She's not as concerned for the human host as Sam always was.
Picking herself up from the ground, she tucks the knife into the back of her jeans. As she walks away, she brings up her foot and kicks a tree with an frustrated groan.
For a year now, she'd been searching for a way to bring Dean back. There was never a moment of doubt that she couldn't. Instead of taking jobs, she'd been going back and forth between monsters, grathering information with threats and torture. She wasn't proud of it, but the desperation had reached an all time high.
As she reaches her car, she slips in quickly and lets out a deep breath.
With trembling hands, she starts the engine and drives away into the dark. She misses the Impala, and hates Sam for taking it without even asking. Actually, she hates Sam for leaving, period. They could have perfectly well searched for a solution together. Although, she had the feeling that Dean's end had resulted in a freedom that Sam always wanted. From her.
Dean was always Sam's favourite. It was no doubt an issue of territory. The fact that she was adopted had never particularly bothered her. Well, if 'adopted' was the correct term. Apparently she had ended up on the Winchester's doorstep as a baby, and was taken in because Mary wanted a daughter and Dean liked the idea of having a little sister. She had always felt like a Winchester, and was always treated as such. John had told her that she wasn't theirs just after Sam left for Stanford, but after that, nobody had spoke of it. Just pretended that it wasn't a fact. Ignored it. But it had affected Sammy more than anyone else because Dean was his.
Eve loved both her brothers very much. But Sam could be difficult, and often was during their childhood, so she just let him be, and made no fuss when things got tough between them. Him leaving after Dean's death was another thing. She needed him then, and she wanted them to work through it together. He had different plans.
When she pulls into the scrap yard, she takes no care in parking the car correctly. Pulling in between two decaying metal frames, she slides out and walks around to the trunk, retrieving two large shopping bags that she'd collected before her secret meeting. Bobby hated when she did this, so she did everything she could to prevent him from finding out.
It only seemed natural that she stay with Bobby after Dean's deal struck an end. He was always a good friend to them, and always treated her like she wanted to be treated. After John died, he seemed to fill the gap that all the Winchester siblings felt.
When she gets into the house, she finds him behind his desk, elbow deep in papers and books. Keeping himself busy by trying to find new cases. "Hey Bobby." She dumps the bags on the table and removes her jacket.
"Took your time," he mutters from behind a book.
"Long lines. Here." She slides a bottle across the table, which he grabs, unscrews the cap and takes a large gulp, all without lifting his eyes. She then carries the rest of the shopping to the kitchen and begins unpacking. Silence fills the rest of the house, and for a few moments, the only sounds that can be heard are the faint flicks of pages and the taps of feet. When everything is unloaded, Eve leans against the kitchen table and clears her throat. "Sam call?"
There's a pause from the other side of the room before she can hear Bobby's curt reply. "Nope. Why do you care?"
"Just wondering." Her voice is quiet, and the conversation feels weird on her tongue, but her mind keeps knawing away with the questions. "I wish I knew if he was alright. Or where he was at least."
"Funny, last time you talked about Sam was when you called him a 'Giant, Stupid, Freak of Nature'."
"I know. He still is. I just...miss him. He's my brother." Slowly, she steps out, and watches Bobby behind his desk. "The only brother I have right now."
"Don't start with that crap again," he cuts in. Dropping his book, he looks up and catches her eye with a stern stare. "You're both adults. You don't have to be co-dependant on him anymore." Seeing her distant gaze into the ground, he softens his voice. "I know you. You're feeling guilty. But Sam's responsible for himself, and that's how he wants to be." Knowing he's right on the money, she gives him a nod. "Now come here, I got a job for ya'."
"Give me something good."
"I'm thinkin' witches." As she reaches his desk he holds out a newspaper. She reaches forward to take it, but his eyes have already fallen to the scratch marks along her forearm. Deep and stained a dark red, he drops the paper and sighs heavily, shaking his head in dismay. "...Not again, Evie."
Eve's eyes catch the marks and she quickly folds her arms over her chest. "It's nothing. I just fell-"
"Don't lie to me, girl. I wasn't born yesterday. You were out talkin' to demons again." Bobby rises from his seat and pinches the bridge of his nose, his eyes scrunching together. "You Winchesters and your damn death wishes..."
"I'm getting close to something, Bobby. I know I am."
"Do ya' have to lie to me? What if something happened?"
She rolls her eyes. That's something she's heard plenty of times over her hunting years. "But nothing did! I've been doing this for years, give me a little credit. Besides, you would never have let me gone."
"Please. I know you well enough to know that you're just as unstoppable as the rest of your family. I would, however, have tried to talk you out of it."
"Why is this so bad? I'm trying to find a way to get Dean back!" The words burn her. Her hands form into fists by her sides as her chest begins rising and falling with angry breaths.
Bobby stomps across the room wearing an angry scowl. "Why can't you just let him go? Can't you see what you're doing to yourself!"
"Well, what else am I supposed to do?" she cries.
"Let go! Grieve! Move on! Just don't drag this out for the rest of us!" The air between them becomes thick with silence as he drops his head to the ground, shaking it gravely. "You stupid Winchesters. I helped bury one of you a year ago. Don't make me stand over your grave too."
She barely has time to think of a response before he turns his back and walks away, leaving her alone, tired and frustrated in the quiet hours of the night.