Apologies on the late update; I got busy with college and yatah yatah yatah it'll update next week on time. Also: Spanish text translated at the bottom of the page.
Maria stared at the road ahead. She squeezed the steering wheel, took breaths, and finally shoved a CD into the radio player, all to distract her from the burning, pulsing pain in her wrist. They were tracking her.
"Can we turn the music down?" Sam shouted.
"What?" she yelled back.
Sam switched the radio off. "It's too loud."
Sure it was.
"You were pretty, uh, laconic back at the motel," said Sam. "It'd help if we had some background."
She glanced at the hunter. Men always wanted to know everything, always thought they could pry. "Background? Born Amazon, ran away, foster care, college, got found out. What else is there?" She forced a laugh, and then grimaced when the brand pulsed with heat again. Stupid mark, stupid men. Stupid everything, just stupid.
"Uh, I dunno, just…" he trailed off. "All right, your father. We knew him, he was a good hunter."
"He's dead?" asked Maria.
"Yeah, he died a long time ago. What happened with him? I thought it was a ritual of sorts, Amazons kill their fathers. I mean, that's what we, uh, were told."
"Emma," she said. "I heard about that. I'm from a different tribe but yeah, that's the ritual. My dad – well I guess hunter blood makes you kinda a rebel. I found my dad, beat him up pretty good, and I dunno, I didn't think killing him was a good idea. I like to leave my options open," she clarified. Pain shot up her arm again.
"So I told him I wasn't gonna kill him and before he told me to get the hell away from him he wrote down a couple numbers and a name. Dean Winchester," she added, "Best hunter in the whole Midwest, so they say. Been to hell and back." And I wish he'd stayed.
Sam chuckled. "Well, that last part's true. Did John tell you why Dean, and not another hunter?"
"John? That was his name?" Of course it was; normal names for normal-looking men.
"Yeah."
"Okay. No, he didn't, he just said I could trust him. He never mentioned you," she said, "Castiel neither. Though angels are kinda new, I guess."
"I was at college. Cas was in heaven. You never talked to him again?" Why do you care?
"He made it pretty clear, he didn't want to see me ever again." She reached over and turned the radio back on. "When You Were Young" blazed through the speakers, and Sam's reply was lost to the electric guitar. Maria let it drown out her building anger and the pain in her wrist.
Her foster-mother called around the time Maria turned off the main road and towards Yellowstone. She turned the music down and Sam handed her the phone.
"¿Sí, Laura?"
"Oye, María, ¿dijiste que irás al cumpleaños del hijo de Mateo?"
"Sí, pero me enfermé anoche, no puedo ir."
"Vale, a Mateo me diré. ¿Qué tienes?"
"Solo un fiebre, pero es como cien y dos grados y no puedo trabajar."
"Ojalá que sentías mejor. Oye, ¡Mateo!" Laura yelled at Maria's foster-brother, who was presumably nearby. Laura liked to yell.
"Pues, tengo cosas que hacer…" she trailed off; Laura didn't hear her, so Maria hung up and turned the phone off. She tossed it into the glove compartment.
After a moment, Sam asked, "Who was that?"
"Foster mom, she likes to keep in touch."
Mateo was her favorite foster-brother. He'd stuck around after turning eighteen, had already gone on one army tour and would cover for her when she woke up in the middle of the night and had to get out of Laura's nice, cozy, suffocating house. And he never pried.
Sam cleared his throat and asked, "How long were you with the Amazons?"
Men pried.
They pulled into the Jack Creek Campground an hour later. It was the off season, and just as Maria predicted the area was empty and the visitor's center closed. Nobody would notice them.
She parked in the farthest camping plot, the one that campers always used last. She and Sam sat there for a moment, listening to Everlast playing quietly from the speakers.
Dean tapped on Maria's window. "What are doing here? You said we were going to the nest."
She replied, "It's in the woods around here, maybe a half-day's hike west. This is the closest we can get. We'll move out tomorrow morning."
"We're sleeping here?"
"Yup."
"'Kay. Sam, you're gonna stay in here?"
Sam looked at Maria; she glanced back, an unspoken warning. "Y'know what, I think I'll sleep in the impala."
Maria could've sworn Dean looked disappointed. Too bad.
She swallowed a couple Advil and drifted off into sleep and more nightmares.
[Her foster-mother called around the time Maria turned off the main road and towards Yellowstone. Sam handed her the phone.
"Yes, Laura?"
"Hey, Maria, did you say you would go to Mateo's son's birthday party?"
"Yeah, but I got sick last night, I can't go."
"Okay, I'll tell Mateo. What do you have? "
"Just a fever, but it's like a hundred and two degrees and I can't work."
"I hope you better. Hey, Mateo! "Laura yelled at Maria's foster-brother, who was presumably nearby. Laura liked to yell.
"So, I have things to do..." she trailed off; Laura didn't hear her, so Maria hung up and turned the phone off.]