Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I do not own the show Supernatural or the character of John Winchester.
Once John was rested enough to trust himself to drive, he and Nell stopped by the clinic to debrief Doc about what happened. The older woman took in their battered condition and asked if they needed anything. They declined.
"You sure?" she prompted, eying Nell, who, even though she was mostly healed, still looked as if she'd been put through a wringer. "I know vampires need to feed more when they've been hurt."
Nell averted her eyes. "I'm fine."
Doc looked at her, looked at John, who gazed levelly back at her. The old woman pursed her lips in displeasure. "Could I talk to you for a sec, John? In private."
"You can say whatever you have to in front of Nell."
"No, it's okay," the vampire interjected before Doc could argue, "I'm not up for anymore drama today. I'll wait in the truck." She took a step forward and held her hand out to the doctor. "Nice meeting you."
Doc shook hands, her smile friendly, but distant. "Likewise."
Nell turned and left the clinic without another word. As soon as the door closed behind her Doc turned to John with a grim expression. "Show me where she bit you."
John didn't insult his friend's intelligence by pretending not to know what she was talking about. He rolled up his sleeve and showed her the bite on his wrist. She stared at the tooth marks with a critical eye, prodded the edges of the wounds with the tip of her finger. "Almost no swelling," she remarked, "If I didn't know better, I'd swear this was days old."
"Something in her saliva," John said, "It explains how vampires can feed off victims for days at a time without them bleeding to death right away."
Doc released his arm and fixed him with a stern look. "You were pushing your luck, letting her feed from you like that. You probably made it harder for her to deny her predatory instincts."
John frowned. "You didn't see what that myling did to her. She was beaten all to hell. If she'd been human, she would've been dying."
"But she's not human," Doc argued, "However bad off she was, she could've waited till you brought her here."
"You weren't there," John snapped, "If you'd seen how much pain she was in and knew you could help her, you would've done the same thing."
Doc shook her head in frustration. "You've always been way too cavalier when it came to your own life. That attitude's cost you more than a few friends over the years, John. It's too damn hard to watch someone I care about act as self-destructive as you."
John turned away with an angry scoff and headed for the door.
"You need to figure out how to move on, John," she called after him, "For your boys' sake, if nothing else."
He paused, one hand on the doorknob, and looked back at her over his shoulder. "Take care of yourself, Doc."
The old woman sighed. "Goodbye, John."
Out in the pickup, Nell slumped so low in the passenger seat only the top of her head could be seen through the window. She turned her head slightly as John got in on the driver's side. "You okay?"
"Fantastic," he grumbled. He pinched the bridge of his nose. "I gotta get something to eat, then we can head out."
"We're not gonna get some sleep first?"
"You can sleep while I drive."
Nell shrugged. "'Kay."
John got himself a burger at a McDonald's drive-thru and ate it on the way back to the B&B. They packed their bags and left town quickly after that, eager to put the whole incident behind them.
Nell draped her jacket over her head to blot out the afternoon sun. John thought she was asleep until her muffled voice asked, "So, where to now?"
"I don't have any plans at the moment," he sighed.
"I'm all for taking some time off."
John smirked. "You've only done two jobs so far."
"Yeah, and they both kicked my ass." Nell shifted to a more comfortable position. "How the hell can you keep doing this shit year after year?"
"I'll let you know when I figure it out."
They drove in silence after that, aside from Nell's snores a few minutes later. As evening set in, John kept his eyes peeled for the next motel. The place he chose wound up being an Econolodge. Unfortunately, due to a highly anticipated college football game in the next town, there was only one room available. But at least it had separate beds. The two of them trudged into the room, still tired and sore from their ordeal. John dropped his duffel at the foot of the nearer bed and flopped down on top of the covers without bothering to kick off his shoes. He threw an arm over his eyes to block the light, heaved an exhausted sigh.
Nell stood over him, shifting from foot to foot uncertainly. "Um, John?"
"Yeah?" he muttered.
"About what happened..."
Something in her tone told him she wasn't talking about the fight with the myling, but after. He sighed and removed his arm from over his eyes, sat up with a groan and looked at her.
Nell took a breath and continued, "I don't want you thinking I've got these self-esteem issues about being what I am, 'cause I don't. It's just... I got so used to you treating me like a normal human being, I was afraid that, uh, letting you talk me into feeding from you like I did...you might start looking at me...different." She swallowed. "I don't want you looking at me like I'm not a person anymore," she finished awkwardly.
A smile of understanding crossed John's tired features. "What happened back there didn't change the way I see you," he told her, "I'm always gonna think of you as an annoying woman with a weird dietary requirement."
Nell snorted, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "I'm not annoying. I'm charmingly quirky."
John lay back down. "Keep telling yourself that. Turn off the light, will ya?"
Nell flicked the light switch off, then set about unpacking her bag, careful not to disturb the dozing man. When she was finished, she toed her shoes off and lay down on the second bed. Her body still needed rest to finish healing. She stared at John's motionless figure across the room, glad she'd gotten her worries off her chest. A few minutes later she closed her eyes and was soon asleep as well.
When his cellphone woke him a few hours later, John didn't remember what he might have dreamt. He dug the phone out of his pocket, hit send, and pressed it to his ear, all while still lying down. "Yeah?"
"Hey, Dad," Dean's all too cheery voice blared from the receiver, "You on a hunt right now?"
"Just finished one. Why?"
"Where are you at?"
"Missouri. Why?" he repeated, suspicious.
"Well, Sammy and I are headed for the Roadhouse and we thought you'd might wanna meet us there. You could, uh, bring your new 'apprentice' along," he added casually.
"Don't think I didn't hear those quotation marks you put on the word 'apprentice,' you smartass," John retorted.
"Don't change the subject. You comin' or not?"
John glanced over at the other bed, saw Nell lying on her side with her eyes open, watching him. He could tell because her eyes were glowing in that unnatural way no human eyes could. That'd be a hell of a move, taking a vampire to a bar frequented by Hunters. "Might not be such a good idea, son."
He heard Dean's puzzlement, "Why not?"
"It's, er, kinda complicated."
A pause, then, "Look, if you don't wanna come, you can just say so."
John winced at the disappointment in his son's voice. "I'll think about it, alright?"
"'Kay," Dean answered, still subdued, "We'll be at the Roadhouse tomorrow and stick around a couple of days. You can show up or not, no pressure or anything."
"Okay. Bye, Dean."
"Bye, Dad."
John tossed his phone onto the nightstand, sat up and ran his hands over his face with a sigh.
"What was that all about?" Nell asked, sitting up with her legs crossed Indian-style.
John filled her in on the conversation with his son. When he was done, Nell frowned and said, "So, what's the big deal? It's not like I've got 'vampire' tattooed on my forehead."
"There are still signs experienced Hunters know to look for," John argued.
"Yeah, but they're not gonna be looking for those signs in the one place they know something like me would never show up in a million years," she reasoned, "When you think about it, it's the perfect place for me to go incognito. Besides, I'd like to meet your kids. I'm curious to see what kinda parents Hunters are."
John seemed less than thrilled at the prospect. "Maybe we could arrange to meet them somewhere else. Later."
Nell scrutinized him for a long moment, then shrugged. "I get it. It's cool. You don't want 'em to meet me, that's fine." She didn't even say it in that passive-aggressive way women tended to do to guilt people into doing what they wanted; she really seemed to mean it. Which, of course, only made John feel even more guilty. Damn her honesty.
"Okay, we'll go," he snapped.
Nell smirked. "You sure. I wouldn't want you to think I'm pressuring you."
"Oh, shut up." He got out of bed and stomped over to the bathroom. He needed a shower before they hit the road again.
While the hot water cascaded over his sore body, John heard Nell call out from the other room, telling him she was going out for a while. He knew that meant she was going to find someone to sell her a pint of blood. He let her know he heard and a moment later there was the faint sound of the motel room door shutting.
John stood under the showerhead, letting the heat ease the aches from his muscles. The voice of Danny Glover from the Lethal Weapon movies rang in his ears: "I'm gettin' too old for this shit." John chuckled to himself.
He stared at the bite on his wrist, faded to the point that he had to squint to make out the marks left by Nell's fangs. That vampire saliva was impressive. Medical science would doubtless pay a fortune to patent the stuff, he mused. It was strange, but the experience of letting her feed on his blood hadn't bothered him at all. There was something weirdly intimate in giving a part of himself to another person; knowing it was what she needed, that it eased her suffering. John wasn't entirely honest when he told Nell that nothing had changed between them. Something had changed; he just wasn't sure what it was.
Nell returned just as he finished dressing. She took in the way his damp hair stuck up in messy spikes and thought how boyishly cute he looked. She held up a plastic bag. "Hungry? I got us a couple of sandwiches from the deli next door."
John smiled, his dimples reinforcing his boyish appearance. "I could eat."
They sat across from each other at the room's small table, eating roast beef and drinking Cokes. They didn't talk, but it was a comfortable silence. Once they were done and had everything put away or packed up, they checked out of their room and set out for Nebraska.
HARVELLE'S ROADHOUSE
The name stood out in bright neon letters on what was otherwise a nondescript clapboard building (the word "shack" sprang to Nell's mind). Despite the bar's rundown appearance, it was obviously doing brisk business. The fact that most of the customers were Hunters probably had something to do with it. John told her it was a popular place for the scattered subculture to meet, exchange information on various supernatural creatures and methods for disposing of them, and basically relax between hunts. Nell discovered it wasn't that hard to tell Hunter from ordinary trucker. Maybe spending time in John's company taught her the subtle cues to look for. There was a hard look to the Hunters' eyes, even when they were laughing and joking with friends; a look that spoke volumes about the things they'd witnessed that everyday people couldn't hope to deal with, let alone believe.
John explained that many Hunters came into this lifestyle after a tragic brush with the supernatural destroyed their normal lives and how they viewed the world, while others inherited the role from one or both parents, like John's sons. There were Hunters who claimed to be third, fourth, fifth generation; men and women whose ancestors stretched back to the earliest American colonies.
One such person who could make this claim was Ellen Harvelle, owner and manager of the establishment. By Hunter standards, she was the closest thing they had to royalty - not that she acted the least bit stuck-up about it. She was a woman who was greatly respected, and in the roadhouse her word was law. Her late husband had been much the same, a legend among legends who tragically died before his time. The pain of his loss was what motivated Ellen to retire from active hunting and to try and shelter her only daughter, Jo, from the life. Unfortunately, her daughter had inherited her stubborn streak and recently struck out on her own to become a hunter like her parents. She was keeping her mother up nights wondering what kind of danger she was in.
As soon as they stepped through the doors, Nell saw John grow more and more uncomfortable. At first she thought it was because of her, but then she noticed the way his eyes were drawn towards Ellen. She glimpsed sadness and remorse in his expression before he managed to get his features under control. A bad history there. Nell wondered about it, but knew better than to ask. Some things were too personal to talk about.
A couple of young men seated at the bar waved. "Dad! Over here!"
John's face relaxed into a warm smile and he headed towards them, Nell trailing slightly behind him. She could definitely see the family resemblance, especially in the younger son. Tall and dark-haired, he even had the same dimples when he smiled. The older son was fairer colored, his features a bit more softened; Nell bet he took after his mother in the looks department.
John kept the introductions brief, "Dean, Sammy, I'd like you to meet Nell."
"Hey," Sam greeted her with a friendly grin and shook hands.
Dean gave his father a sly look. "Jeez, Dad, you're robbing the cradle here!"
"She's not my girlfriend, Dean," John replied with a touch of exasperation, "I'm just showing her the ropes."
"I bet you are." Dean winked. His brother rolled his eyes. Nell laughed.
"Not that it matters, since I'm really not his girlfriend," she said, "but I'm older than I look."
"Well, you're a hottie however old you are." Dean flashed his most charming grin. Nell had him pegged right away as an experienced player. He knew just how far to take his flirting without becoming sleazy.
"You flatterer," she teased, "If you weren't my boss's kid I'd totally jump you."
John abruptly called out to a passing waitress, "Could we get a couple of beers over here?"
Nell exchanged wry looks with the boys, all of them knowing how uncomfortable he was with the situation and finding no end to the resulting amusement.
"What's say we get a table," Sam suggested once the drinks arrived. They left the bar and were lucky to find an unoccupied booth. Nell and John took one bench while Sam and Dean took the other across from them. Nell was glad for the dim lighting; less chance of someone spotting her eye shine that way. Even if nobody was looking for it, why tempt fate with carelessness?
They talked for hours, occasionally buying another round. Nell was interested in the family's dynamic, the relationships between John and Dean, John and Sam, and Sam and Dean. There was love and loyalty, but also signs of conflict, particularly between John and his youngest. But whatever differences they might've had in the past, they set them aside for the sake of togetherness now. Time slipped by and before they knew it, they were pretty much the last ones left in the Roadhouse. The only other people Nell saw were Ellen and a skinny guy with the longest mullet she'd ever seen seated at the bar with his head on the counter.
"Okay, guys," Ellen called out from her spot behind the counter, "I'm locking up for the night. You can let yourselves out or there's extra beds in the back room if you're not okay to drive."
There was a chorus of thanks from the booth. Mullet guy looked like he was already fast asleep. Either that or he was dead. Ellen didn't look all that concerned.
Nell glimpsed the same sad look in John's eyes whenever he gazed in Ellen's direction. She also noticed the way they kept their distance from each other. Something heavy hung in the air between them. Nell found herself wondering what it could be. What kind of relationship did they used to have? Were they just friends, or...
It was then that Nell realized she was jealous. A feeling not unlike dread came over her. She needed to be careful or things would get way too complicated between her and John. Neither of them needed that.
"Hey, earth to Nell!" Dean waved a hand in front of her face, drawing her attention to the fact that he'd been trying to talk to her for quite a while. She jerked her head towards him. "Sorry! Got distracted."
A funny look passed over Dean's face. "What was that?"
Nell frowned. "What was what?"
"Your eyes," he said, his words making her tense, "When you turned around I saw 'em flash."
Nell looked at John, who ran a hand over his face, palm rasping against his days-old beard. "Try to keep it down," he murmured, "We don't want to upset Ellen."
"Dad, what's going on?" Sam asked. His face showed concern, his brother's suspicion.
John sighed. "I wasn't sure how I was going to tell you this, so I guess I'll just come out and say it. Nell's a vampire."
Shock, disbelief, anger; they flickered across their faces one after the other, until they finally settled into amazed curiosity for Sam, sullen resentment for Dean. Frankly, Nell was surprised they didn't both look at her with outright hatred. All their lives they'd been indoctrinated to view creatures like her as evil. But then again, their father learned to view her with an open mind fairly quickly - though saving his life a couple of times probably helped.
"What the hell-" Dean sputtered.
Sam quickly interjected, "You told us you were teaching her to hunt."
"I am," John answered.
"But she's one of the things we hunt!" Dean whispered harshly. At least he kept his voice down, Nell mused.
"I'm not part of a nest," she told him, "I don't attack people. I don't even bite 'em." She thought it best to omit what happened between her and John the other day.
"So, you live off animal blood?" Sam asked.
Nell grimaced. "Hell no. I buy pints off of people, draw it out with needles and tubing like they do in clinics."
"And nobody thinks that's weird?" Dean asked sarcastically.
"Of course they do. But for fifty bucks a pint, they're not gonna argue."
Dean leaned over the table, glaring at his dad. "Have you lost it? Never mind she's a damn fang, what happens when other Hunters find out you're cozying up with the enemy?"
"We'll deal with it when it happens," John said.
"For Christ's sake-"
"Cool it, Dean," Sam gripped his brother's shoulder, "This isn't the place to talk about it."
Dean shook his head in disgust. "After everything you taught us, our whole lives. You're nothing but a goddamned hypocrite." He stood and stormed out of the bar without a backward glance.
Sam sighed and gave them an apologetic look. "He needs a little while to calm down."
John nodded, eyes downcast. He didn't look all that convinced.
"We're staying at that hotel down the road," Sam continued, "They still have some vacancies. Why don't you two book a couple of rooms there and we can all talk it out later?"
"Good idea," Nell agreed. She nudged John with her elbow. "Let's go. We're both beat, anyway."
She, John, and Sam got out of the booth and headed for the exit. Out in the mostly empty parking lot, Dean waited for his brother in a classic Chevy Impala. Nell couldn't help but compliment the sweet ride. Sam grinned. "I'll tell Dean you said that. Might help to soften him up."
Nell and John got into the pickup, watched as the Impala backed out of the parking spot and drove off down the road. John waited until the rear lights were distant specks before starting the truck's engine and heading out the way they went.
"That went well," Nell remarked drily.
John grunted. It was obvious his son's displeasure upset him. And why the hell wouldn't it? Nell gazed at him in sympathy. "Look, if things get too strained, I'll understand if you want me to go. Family's gotta come first."
John looked at her sidelong, the corner of his mouth twitched. "Sick of me already?"
Nell rolled her eyes. "No, I'm totally in love with you."
John chuckled.
"It's those dimples," Nell added, grinning, "I can't resist their insidious power."
"They are the key to the Winchesters' success," he agreed, "How d'you think I convinced Mary to be my wife?"
Nell sobered a little. "She gave you two great sons."
"Yeah." John's smile was tinged with sadness. His brown eyes met her green, and in that instant Nell knew she was in serious trouble. Like it or not, things were getting complicated, and there was nothing she could do to stop it now. She wasn't even sure she wanted it to.
