FOUR YEARS LATER

I drive for days after getting the head's up from Bobby about a case in Colorado. People have been going missing from the woods at a particular set of co-ordinates so I agreed to take on the case. I'm now twenty -five years old, and my hair isn't white anymore. I changed my appearance soon after the last time I saw Dean. I didn't want him looking for me and knowing how my white hair was such a trademark with me in the hunter world, I knew I had to change it. So I dyed it black and actually paid a professional to put in magenta pink highlights. I couldn't stand the thought of having all black hair.

It was a boring idea and although I want to blend in the crowd on the off chance the Winchesters were around, I didn't want to blend in so much I felt boring and not like me. So in went the pink highlights. My general style has changed over the years also, though not too much. I'm wearing vests more and mostly made of either pleather or denim and now only mostly seen in wet look leggings or trousers that are made of the same material as the leggings just with zips in them. Still sporting my combat boots though, those I can never part with. Let's just say I'm not exactly dressed to be trenching through woods looking for whatever it is hunting these innocent people. I haven't seen nor spoken to Dean in these past four years either. Bobby for a while kept trying to make me talk to him and give me his number, but I refuse each and every time. I'm 25 years old, and acting like a teenager, but it is better this way. I have become a better hunter and have been getting hurt less and killing more efficiently.

Anyway, enough of my new look appearance wise and back to his case. I drive up a winding road that is situated right in the middle of woodlands. Or so it seems anyway, trees and grass and twigs all around me and because of the greenery what little sunlight is shining, isn't getting through, making even this daylight seem like night time, though not enough to need my headlights on luckily.

Bobby didn't tell me much on the phone about this case, and he didn't email me much information either. All that either of us knows is that young people all aged between twenty-one and twenty-six are going missing in the woods. The victim's families have tried to report it, but no bodies have ever been found, and the rangers are putting it down to bear attacks. I don't seem to believe that personally and neither does Bobby. If it were bear attacks, there would be SOME kind of remains of bodies left over in the woods just lying around on the floor. The fact that the bodies haven't been found at all and rangers have supposedly searched the entire terrain, I'm sensing that they're bullshitting their way out of these disappearances and it's something they can't explain.

I eventually get to the right co-ordinates that Bobby sent me. They lead to an area in the woods called Black Water Ridge and I see a familiar car parked up ahead: The 1967 Impala. Bollocks, is the word I'm thinking of right now. Bobby stitched me up after four years; he finally got me on the same case as Dean and his father. I'm going to make a mental note in my brain to verbally kill him later on. I park up behind them, with a slight distance between our cars, and I see a rather tall guy turn around who is standing next to Dean. "No flaming way…. Sammy!? Damn boy you've grown up!" I find myself gasping out loud to myself in my car.

I watch as he nudges his brother, but I don't see John anywhere around. I really hope nothing has happened to him, although I do get this feeling that if something had happened to John, Bobby would let me know. John was like a second father to me when we were all kids. He even paid for my birthday date with Dean, when I turned 18 years old.

I manage to stop myself gawking at Sam's rather tall physique long enough to grab my duffel and get out of the car, putting my car keys into my jacket inside pocket. I walk round to the back of my car and pop the trunk open, looking through the assortment of weapons I have stored in there and decide to pack whatever I can fit in there. I was about to go in blind and with the Winchester boys, so I want to be prepared for just about anything. A slam happens on the roof of my car before I hear a familiar voice talk to me, and not sounding impressed that I'm around. "So… you're finally showing your face after four damn years," Dean… taking a deep breath and sigh, and rolling my eyes whilst I'm hiding behind the trunk door of the car, I then close the trunk up and sling the bag over my shoulder. "Hello to you too. Don't shoot me okay, Bobby put me on this case," I reply to him, with a tone of voice that matches his annoyance of seeing each other perfectly.

I notice out of the corner of my eye Sam walking over after talking to the group of innocent people they seem to plan on taking along. What idiots, no matter how much innocent people begged me I won't ever take them along. I only made one exception on that with Zack, and I've never made the same exception again since. "K…Kenzi!?" Sam stammered, seeming shocked to see me again after many many years. He was a little squirt when I last saw him. "Hey Sam, well look at you all grown up!" I say with a smirk upon my lips, waving my hand up and down in front of him. "I could say the same about you… no more striking white hair huh? And…hunting in skin tight leggings?" He remarks back at me, giving me a quizzical look with a cocked eyebrow raised as he took in my look. Something about him has changed, he just seemed…. different, not like the chirpy Sam I remember seeing. "The white was getting stained with blood too often," I tell him. Yeah yeah, I know, that's not the reason I just previously said for dying my hair. Though it is still a valid point, and it did happen, I'm not exactly the neatest of hunters when it comes to stabbing, hacking or beheading something.

He just nods at me before the little sound of a 'huh' escapes his lips. After, I just can't help but feel this awkwardness between the three of us. Looking between the two brothers, I can see Sam sort of wants to continue talking to me, but knew there was a case to do, whereas Dean? Well, he's just giving the death glares straight from hell for even standing in his presence. He's still pissed off at me for leaving him high and dry for four years. I still regret doing that move, I would rewind time and change it if I could. I'd even change it so I told him the truth probably, but I didn't and can't change what happened. I've learned to live with this guilt and this lie, so I'm surprised he hasn't learnt to live with what I did.

It's this very moment that I realise Dean holds grudges badly and deeply, and I know now that I have to make sure not to make him hold anymore grudges against me. "Okay, so if you two are finished with your little reunion speeches, we have a case to do and an innocent person to save!" Dean says, clapping his hands together before shoving them in his jacket pocket. I sigh and roll my eyes at his attitude at wanting to get as far away from me as possible. "Do you two even know what it is that's hunting these people?" I ask, looking between the two of them, putting a hand on my right hip and bending my left knee out to the side slightly. "No… we don't but from what we know at the moment, we're guessing something we don't wanna leave out there on the lose for much longer," Sam replies to me, being the only polite one out of all three of us.

Dean just walks off at this point and over to the people in the little hiking party. I don't care much for them and still think it's a stupid idea taking them along. "And you're gonna take that little group of troopers along and risk their lives for what? So Dean can go around playing the hero?" I say back at Sam, being polite to him, but showing detest at Dean's obvious idea. I can see that's what he is playing at, just from his body language around the young woman. "I'm taking it that you and him didn't exactly part on good terms?" Sam asks, deciding to try and be the guy that's playing neutral between us, but something tells me that he wants to get the case over with and move on out. "Could say that yeah… I haven't been in contact with him for four years, so he's rather pissed." I say to him in response. "Ah, kinda like us two then… I walked away to go to college and didn't speak to him for four years either… he really resented me for it, but then he turns up at my college in my dorm in the middle of the night saying Dad's hasn't been home in a few days. Next thing I know I'm on the road with him and we haven't found Dad anywhere… that was a few days ago." Sam explains to me.

I listen to him, and when he mentioned that John hasn't been around in a few days I actually felt worried for John. I do my best to not show my worry on my face, so it doesn't look weird in front of Sam. Yet when he explained about John, I figured that's why he wanted to get this case over with… so he could look for his father. Both of us see Dean walking back over to us, with his little troop close behind. The young kid didn't look much older than late teens and the idea of him walking around the woods with something big and nasty taking people to do whatever they wish, doesn't sit well with me at all. I also notice an older gentleman with the group, looking a lot more experienced in hiking, so at least they have picked one person well. "You're intending on coming out into the woods dressed like that? Where's you're equipment? You're rations?" This older guy speaks out, and he's instantly screaming 'douchebag' at me. "Rations and equipment in duffel and so what if I'm going hiking in this outfit? There are no rules to say you can't look good when you go hunting is there? I didn't think so! And this one-" I begin to retort back at him, slinging my thumb towards Dean pointing at him. "Could do with some female logic on the team," I then finish, with a smug grin appearing on my lips.

I watch as Dean walks closer to me, and I look at him with a quizzical look on my face, wondering what he's up to. "Okay, enough of the bitchy banter Kenzi… I thought your surname was meant to be Hart… not heartless." He retorts back at me, pinning me practically to my own car. I can see the young boy stifling back a snigger, and even Sam is stifling to keep a snigger back at his brother's quick wit. "Oh come on doll, you love it when I'm feisty, you just need to admit it." I say back at him, not letting his quick wit get the better of me. I've become just as much of a smart ass and foul mouthed person as he seems to have. I can see the lines on his face appear as he desperately tried to come back with another wit, but is failing to think of anything decent to say, and it is making me feel rather proud of myself and even more smug. "Well, you're not going along with us, so the joke's on you." He states back at me, and when I tug my arm I feel handcuffs around my wrist.

"You handcuffed me to my own car!?" I practically verbally chew his head off. I see him smirk in a smug and arrogant manner and it's just making me madder. "Sorry Kenzi, this case is ours. Our Dad is possibly out there and I'm not having you take a case and be a bigger bitch than you already are." Dean speaks out at me, I swear if he had it in him to flip me off right now he would have done. Instead he just starts walking away, guiding the others away from me. "Sam come on!" He barks out and Sam reluctantly walks away from me, leaving me stuck to my own car in the middle of nowhere near Black Water Ridge. "YOU SON OF A BITCH DEAN!" I scream at the top of my lungs at him, just to receive a wave of his left hand.

I'm finding myself practically growling under my breath at how he got the better of me. His little group all disappear into the woodlands and I'm left yanking my hand away from my car door, only to find the handcuffs well and truly locked into place and I'm going nowhere. "I'm so gonna get you back for this…" I mumble under my breath, finding myself getting more and more worked up by the situation than I probably really need to be. I somehow need to get myself out of these cuffs so I can follow the little group and make sure they don't get the kill before me. I refuse to let Dean have this case and gloat about how he got the better of me. I look around for something that I can use to pick lock the handcuffs and come up blank. "Balls…." I complain, knowing it is having to require dislocating my hand again or nothing at all. Have I mentioned how I REALLY don't want to dislocate my joints again? No? Well I don't, it's not fun, it hurts like a bitch and… well, it's just not fun. Then it occurs to me, and I wonder how I didn't think of it before.

The stupid idiot that is Dean Winchester, handcuffed me to the same side as my car arial. So all I need to do is stretch across and unscrew it, and use it as a picklock. Though stretching across is proving more strenuous than I thought it would be. I can feel my spine really stretching, and my muscles in my waist pulling so taut that they are trying to cramp up, as my fingers stretch right out and just manage to grip onto the arial long enough to unscrew it. Times like this, make me feel crazy thankful for having quick reflexes. As the arial begins to fall onto the floor, I manage to grab it with my free hand in time and bring it across my body, using the thinner end to picklock the handcuffs. I am wasting time now, and I need to get out there to those co-ordinates fast if I want the kill before the brothers.