"Wow," Sam said, stunned after Dean finished. "When you said she had issues…."
"We have issues," Dean corrected. "Allie practically has a full-blown subscription." He shrugged. "I tell you Sam, the way she broke down like that," he shook his head, "I don't think she's been that honest before with anyone, ever—not even Bobby."
"Not a surprise," Sam replied. "I mean, from the moment she was born, she's had a target on her back. She's never been allowed to have any real friends, plus look at how much she's lost: her mother, her father, her familiar. All the people close to her are dead because of the demon, which she probably thinks is her fault, so it's no wonder she's worried about losing Bobby—or why she won't confide in him."
"Yeah," Dean replied sadly. "You know, she kept saying over and over that she wished she'd never been born so her parents would still be alive—that it was her fault they're dead." He shook his head, looking frustrated. "I want to find it, Sam. I want to find that son of a bitch even more now and make him pay for what he did to our family, and what he's done to hers."
Sam nodded in agreement. "So, I'm assuming she calmed down."
"Only because she exhausted herself," Dean replied. "I had to carry her to her bed, she could barely stand." Sam raised an eyebrow, and Dean rolled his eyes. "And before you get all chick flick on me, yes, I tucked her in, she asked me to stay with her, we spooned, she was fine the next morning, can we move on?"
Sam smiled a little and opened his mouth to say something, but then he saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He glanced past Dean toward the front counter. "Trouble," he said grimly.
Dean quickly turned around and saw Alicia standing at the counter—but she wasn't alone.
A young man, mid-thirties, average height and build, brown hair and eyes, wearing a deputy's uniform stood close to her—a little too close, Dean noted. Normally, both brothers would simply ignore someone like him, but the way sidling up to her, talking to her while the young woman, clearly uncomfortable, was trying to focus on anything but him. Dean and Sam glanced at each other, gave a short nod, then quickly got up from the booth and headed toward the front—just in time to see the officer run his fingers up her arm.
"Hey, honey," Dean said cheerfully as he walked up to Alicia's other side. "We're ready to go." Alicia looked over at him and Sam, her eyes flashing with relief.
"And you are?" the deputy asked suspiciously, pulling his hand away.
"Oh, I'm Dean," the elder Winchester replied before nodding at Sam, who was a whole foot higher than the deputy. "This is my brother, Sam." He smiled as he put his arm around Alicia, pulling her close. "I'm Allie's boyfriend."
The deputy eyed the brothers suspiciously. "Allie, you know these two?"
"Of course I do," Alicia replied, leaning against Dean. "Guys, this is Deputy Earl Taylor. He's been patrolling this area for two years." She turned to Dean, who (despite smiling) was giving the deputy a piercing stare, then gave a forced smile to the deputy. "We need to get going; we're running late." She turned back to Earl. "Bye." She wordlessly tugged on Dean's arm, quickly heading for the entrance, with Sam following.
"So, Barney Fife's getting a little handsy," Dean said, annoyed, as the trio marched to the Chevelle.
"Yeah, not the first time, either," Alicia replied as she fished the keys out of her pocket. They got in the car—Alicia in the driver's seat, Dean beside her, and Sam in the back—and the young woman put the key in the ignition. She paused, feeling the brothers staring at her, then she sighed and leaned back. "Look, to make a long story short, ever since he came on the force here, he's…taken an interest in me."
"He's not a demon, is he?" Sam asked, concerned.
"Checked already, trust me," Alicia replied. "Unfortunately, he's just a creepy perv."
"This is why I hate humans," Dean said. "So, why not hex his ass or something?"
"For starters," Alicia replied, "dark magic is a road I'd rather not travel down too much. Second, people around here already see Bobby and me as freaks. So, as much as I'd like to manipulate the jackass into thinking he's a little girl in a dress with pigtails, that would put us further on their radar—and the last thing we want is for them poking around the property. There'd be an investigation just for having grandpa buried behind the woodshed, much less all the books and stuff in my bedroom."
"Could you back up there?" Dean asked. "Did you just say—"
"Yes, my grandfather is buried behind the woodshed," Alicia replied. "He was an abusive asshole to his entire family for a long time until Bobby ended it with a shotgun when he was thirteen; he and Dad buried him behind the woodshed and never spoke about him again, so don't say anything to Bobby about me telling you, because he'll go ballistic that I did, and I'll deliver copious amounts of pain."
"Promise?" Dean asked, grinning playfully. Alicia glanced at him and smiled before starting the car's ignition. She backed up the Chevelle and steered it out of the parking lot, peeling off down the asphalt road.
Alicia, Dean, and Sam spent the rest of the day touring Sioux Falls: going to the local zoo, Falls Park, the Butterfly House and Aquarium, and even a few of her favorite restaurants. They talked, enjoyed each other's company, and for one day they felt like normal people instead of three supernatural hunters with the weight of the world on their shoulders. Unfortunately, with the daylight starting to fade (and Alicia beginning to look a bit under the weather), they piled into the Chevelle and made their way back to Bobby's.
"You sure you don't want one of us to drive, Alicia?" Sam asked from the backseat as the car sped down the asphalt. "You don't look so hot."
"I'm fine," Alicia said, her skin slightly pale and small beads of sweat on her forehead. She appeared to be trembling slightly. "I just overdid it today." She smiled, but it came out as a small grimace, her breathing ragged.
"You look like you're going to hurl," Dean said.
"I said I'll be fine," Alicia replied a little more harshly. She nodded as she looked out the windshield. "See, we're here." She turned the car onto the road leading to Bobby's place. As she pulled up to the front, the three of them saw both Bobby and John standing on the small porch, arms folded and waiting. The Chevelle stopped next to the loner vehicle—a beat up Chevy Cavalier that looked like it came from the eighties—John was borrowing for the Cheyenne trip.
"They look pissed," Dean said. He glanced over at Alicia, who was sweating more and looked as if she was wincing slightly. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Alicia replied before she killed the engine and got out, heading for the house. Sam and Dean glanced at each other, concerned, but they quickly exited the vehicle and followed Alicia as she began arguing quietly with the two men.
"...cutting it too damn close," Bobby replied angrily.
"I said I would come back," Alicia retorted.
"Get inside," Bobby said firmly, grabbing her arm and yanking her up the porch stairs and into the house.
"You two get in the car," John ordered his sons. "We're leaving. Now."
"We just got back," Sam protested.
"And if you hadn't walked out this morning," John replied angrily, "we'd already be in Cheyenne by now," he turned to Dean, "and we're going to have a long talk about your extracurricular activities."
"Oh, really?" Dean asked angrily.
"Did you sleep with her, Dean?"
"I don't see how that's any of your damn business, Dad," Dean replied. "You know, I don't remember you ever asking me that question with any of the other girls I was with—or even caring in the first place."
Sam stared at his father suspiciously. "What is it about Alicia, Dad?" he asked. "This goes beyond her connection to the demon or her being a witch." John opened his mouth but was interrupted by the loud sound of a woman's agonizing shout. The three men jerked their heads in the direction of Bobby's house.
"Allie," Dean said, worry flashing across his eyes. He bolted past his father toward the front door, with Sam close on his heels.
"Dean!" John shouted, chasing them. "Sam!"
"Allie!" Dean shouted as he and Sam ran into the living room, looking around frantically. They heard noises coming from the floorboards, and they glanced at each other before heading for the basement door. Dean flung the door open and took the stairs three at a time, reaching the bottom in less than two seconds; Sam was close behind. The two looked around and stopped short when they saw the open solid iron door leading into a small circular room with iron walls and a large devil's trap on the floor. They heard Bobby's voice inside, as well as a woman's voice in anguish. The brothers hurried to the entrance and stopped just outside.
The circular room was small, with furniture and hunting equipment, almost like a bunker of some sort. Against the far wall, Bobby sat in a metal desk chair next to a bed, leaning over and talking softly to Alicia as she lay on the mattress. Her skin was pale and drenched in sweat, her breathing shallow and rapid as she convulsed and writhed in agony, her knuckles white from tightly gripping the sheets.
"What the hell is going on?" Dean demanded as he and Sam hurried in.
Bobby looked over, his face a mixture of shock and anger. "What the hell are you doing here?" he demanded. He saw John hurry inside a few seconds later and open his mouth, but Alicia suddenly started violently coughing up blood, her body convulsing for several moments before going limp. Bobby turned his attention back to his niece. "Sam, hand me that syringe on the desk—now!" Sam glanced over and saw an extremely large syringe and needle with a dark liquid in it. He quickly grabbed it and handed it to Bobby, who gripped it tightly and plunged the needle all the way into the left side of Alicia's chest, directly under her heart. He quickly injected the contents, then tossed the empty syringe on the desk next to him before turning his attention back to his niece.
The young woman lay motionless on the bed, blood oozing down her mouth, beads of sweat trickling down her forehead. After a few moments, Alicia's eyes suddenly opened as she quickly sat up, gasping loudly. She took a few ragged breaths before her eyes rolled back in her head, and she collapsed, unconscious. Sam and Dean watched as Bobby checked her pulse and breathing before wiping the blood from her mouth with a handkerchief. After covering her with a blanket, he quickly stood and faced the Winchesters with a look of anger on his face.
"What happened to Alicia?" Sam demanded.
"Doesn't matter," Bobby said. "What the hell are you three still doing here?" He looked right at John with a hard expression like he was about to go ballistic on the hunter.
"'Doesn't matter'?!" Dean asked. He pointed to the young woman. "Allie is lying unconscious in your basement, coughing up blood—you had to stab her in the chest with a friggin' needle—and you're telling us it 'doesn't matter'?!" He looked around. "What the hell is this place anyway?"
"It's a panic room," Bobby replied. "Walls are a hundred percent iron, coated in salt, including the door. It's designed to keep out demons and ghosts," he glanced at Alicia, "or to keep in something that needs to be contained."
"Why does she have to be contained?" Sam asked.
"Sam," John replied, "it's complicated."
"Then uncomplicate it," Sam said harshly.
John glanced at Bobby, and the two hunters knew the brothers would never drop it without being told the truth. While Bobby slowly sat down, John faced his sons.
"Do you remember how Alicia's father died?" he asked.
"Yeah, Yellow Eyes killed him by possessing a werewolf," Dean answered. "So what?"
John's expression softened a bit, but he couldn't bring himself to continue. "Bobby, you should tell them."
From his chair, Bobby gave a large sigh. "It was like nothing we'd ever seen before," he said after a few moments. "The demon's possession turned the werewolf into something truly grotesque and powerful. It took all three of us to fight it, but Alicia…she was so blinded with hatred she got reckless—almost killed her right then and there—but after throwing us around like ragdolls for a bit, the demon suddenly high-tailed it out, and we were able to kill the werewolf."
"So, the werewolf didn't kill her father?" Sam asked, confused.
"Not the one we fought," Bobby replied, his voice cracking every few words. He quickly cleared his throat. "The, uh, next night, I was making dinner, and Mark and Allie were outside, working on her car. Everything was almost ready when I heard both of them screaming and shouting, like they're being attacked. I grab my shotgun and silver knife off the counter and run out there. When I turned the corner—" his voice cracked again, and he cleared his throat, composing himself, "Mark was on the ground, dead, blood everywhere, his body being ripped to shreds by the same thing that attacked us last night—and Alicia was nowhere in sight. I raised my gun to fire off a shot and distract it so I could stab it, but then it looked at me. Its eyes weren't yellow; they were blue." Sam and Dean looked at Bobby, confused, then their expressions changed when they understood what he was implying.
"Bobby," Dean said, his voice pleading, "please tell me you're not saying what I think you're saying."
"It's exactly what I'm saying, Dean," Bobby replied sadly. "Alicia's the werewolf that killed her father."
(End of Chapter 6)