Allison Venator was certainly not over what had happened in Oregon. It would take her more than a couple of days before she was willing to forgive and forget the fact that Dean had been prepared to send her off with strangers whilst he rolled over and died. It was more than that though. In that moment when Dean had refused to let his brother die alone, Ali had seen exactly what family meant to the hunter. And the fact that Dean wouldn't've let Ali stay as well only caused her to feel even more isolated from the pair. It was easy to forget that Dean wasn't really her big brother. It was easy to forget that neither the Winchester boys were her real family. But they were each other's family. Ali knew she would never really be a part of that, no matter how hard she tried.
Even so, with the more recent (and more serious) events that had occurred since Oregon, Ali had decided to put all her frustration and negative energy into a draw at the back of her mind and lock it up tightly. There were more important things to worry about.
Number one on her list was a pretty serious one: Sam was missing.
Not only did this mean she needed to focus on the younger Winchester's safety before her own grievances, she also needed to keep the air clean between herself and Dean. This was primarily because they had in fact been breathing the same air for the past four hours as they drove in the Impala, and the fact that in Sam's absence, they'd spent quite a bit of time just the two of them. With no Sam to dispel the tension, they had to do it themselves. Otherwise Ali couldn't guarantee either of them would make it through the day alive.
"What was it you said about why Sam took off?" Ali asked, her brow raised at the Winchester next to her. She knew full well that Dean hadn't in fact said anything about why Sam had disappeared in the middle of the night – only that Dean was sure he was fine and that he'd come back soon. Ali didn't believe a word of it.
"Sammy's just taking a solo vacation for a bit, that's all," Dean replied, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel.
"Vacation?" Ali asked sceptically. "A hunting vacation?"
"Look, Sam's gonna be fine, alright?" he said. "He's a big boy, he can take care of himself."
"If you believe that, why are we going after him?" No reply. Unsurprising. Ali narrowed her eyes at the older Winchester. He would give her a straight answer if he didn't have anything to hide. But then again, Dean always had something to hide. "You're worried."
"I ain't worried," Dean defended as he pulled off the highway.
"Dean, I know something must've happened between you two," she said, watching him carefully from the passenger seat. "Did you have a fight or something?" Dean's hands tightened on the wheel, his shoulders tensing uncomfortably. "You did, didn't you?" He sighed.
"I may've told him some stuff that he didn't want to hear," Dean admitted.
"What stuff?"
"I don't want you to worry about it, okay Ali," Dean said as he shook his head.
"But Dean-."
"It's family business, alright?" Dean was taken aback at his own words and felt a surge of guilt rise in his stomach. He knew Allison Venator didn't like feeling left out when it came to him and his brother. However, he didn't retract his statement, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead.
Ali scoffed, turning away from the hunter and grumpily crossing her arms.
"Fine," she said, trying to mask the bitterness in her voice as she reached over to crank up the volume on the radio that had been quietly humming AC/DC for the past couple of hours.
Dean pulled to a stop outside of a small but busy diner. It'd been a while since either of them had eaten and even though he didn't want to waste any time finding Sam, he needed a break from the driving. Maybe a breath of fresh air would be good for both of them.
He glanced over at the sleeping blonde girl as he climbed out of Baby, purposefully slamming the door extra loud in order to rouse her.
"Hey, Princess Valium, wake up," he called, the impact of the car door swinging shut causing the girl to jolt awake. Ali sat up dead straight before realising where she was. A scowl rested on her face as she climbed out of the passenger seat and made her way into the diner. They both ordered the usual, barely giving the menu a second glance. Ali smiled contently when the heart-attack-inducing meal was carried over by the waitress. As she walked away from the table, Ali noted how Dean uncharacteristically didn't turn to check her out. Weird.
"How many times have you called him?" she asked as she sucked a mouthful of her soda up through the straw.
"I must've left fifteen messages." Dean replied as he checked is phone again to see if he'd received a text from his brother. Ali watched as the elder Winchester sighed, showing the phone back into his pocket and picking at his fries. He'd barely touched the cheese burger with extra onions and bacon. Just from that, Ali knew how anxious he really was.
"I'll try Bobby again," Ali suggested, waiting for Dean's nod of approval before sliding out of the booth and exiting the diner. She stood only a foot from the entrance, her back pressed to the wall as she dialled the hunter's number on her mobile. He picked up on the second ring, giving a grunt of acknowledgement to the caller.
"Bobby? It's me," Ali said. It hadn't been too long since she'd seen the man who'd raised her for the last six years. She'd tried to keep in contact with him as much as possible since the summer.
"It's good to hear from you, Al." Bobby's voice came gritty and clear down the phone. She smiled.
"You too."
"How're the boys?" Ali bit her lip. Him asking meant he didn't have any idea about what was going on with Sam. That meant he hadn't heard from the younger Winchester. That meant they were no steps closer to finding him.
"Sam took off in the middle of the night," she blurted out. She'd never been great at delivering bad news. She'd more often been the recipient rather than the messenger. "I don't know why, but Dean's worried. A-and I know something happened but he won't tell me what."
"Slow down kid," Bobby requested after listening to her word vomit. "You say Sam's gone?"
"Yeah. Last night," Ali replied. "We were hoping you mighta heard from him." A sigh came from the other end of the line.
"Sorry, Al," the older hunter said. "Could try the Roadhouse." Ali ran a hand through her thick locks. The blonde strands really needed a brush.
"Alright, thanks, Bobby. I'll keep you posted." She hung up, heading back inside the diner to meet Dean. He looked up at her as she approached, a glimmer of hope in his eyes. Ali shook her head at him. The hope dulled to exhaustion.
"Okay, let's head out," he said, shoving his plate to the side and standing from the booth. From the looks of it, he's barely eaten a thing. Ali thought about commenting on it, but decided against it, simply nodding as she grabbed her cup of soda from the table as Dean threw down a twenty-dollar bill.
She followed the man outside as they approached the car, glancing up at the sky that had already begun to darken. She checked her phone for the time. Seven thirty. When did that happen? She looked up at Dean who was struggling to suppress a yawn, his neck straining as his nostrils flared.
"Dean."
"Mmm?"
"Maybe we should stay at a motel tonight," Ali suggested, eyeing the tired man wearily. "I mean, we're both tired. We're no use to Sam if we can't even stay awake." Dean shook his head as he yanked open the door of the Impala.
"I'll sleep when I've got my brother back," Dean grumbled, running the palm of his hand over his face. The blonde girl sighed and approached the man who was about to climb into the driver's seat.
"Okay," she agreed. "Why don't you ride shotgun. I'll drive for a while." Dean laughed.
"Like hell you will," he said, shaking his head. Ali grumbled.
"Well I'm not getting in that car with you falling asleep at the wheel," she told him defiantly. Dean groaned. Although it frustrated him that the girl wouldn't just do as he said, he couldn't deny that he was exhausted.
"Fine, we'll get a motel," he said. "But we leave first thing in the morning." Ali nodded in agreement. She wondered how much the elder Winchester would actually sleep knowing his brother was out there alone, but maybe with some persuading, he would try and get some shut eye before the next day. She had a feeling he'd need it.
The next morning, Dean and Ali were well on their way to leaving the small town to track down Sam. Bobby's idea to try the roadhouse had paid off last night when Dean had received a call from Ellen. After a little persuading, she'd informed him that Sam was in Lafayette, Indiana. As predicted, Dean had only managed to close his eyes for about forty-five minutes, and even then, he'd been restless. Being in the next bed, Ali's night hadn't been much better. But, after plying herself and Dean with an extra strong coffee, they were both feeling sufficiently awake enough to pack up their things and make it to the Impala.
Dean gunned the engine and set off from the lights, happy to be putting the town in the rear-view mirror. They'd already been there longer than Dean had planned.
"Dean, look out!" Ali's shout was accompanied with a hard slap to the shoulder. He slammed on the breaks just as a screaming woman ran out in front of the car, the bumper clipping her before she was knocked to the ground.
"Shit," Dean cursed as Ali flung open the passenger door.
"Call 911," she instructed before running to the woman's aid. The woman was still screaming and Ali wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Upside: she wasn't dead. Dean hadn't killed her. Downside: she was screaming. She could be in pain or have a serious injury.
She knelt down next to the woman who had managed to sit up. A small cut to her head had dribbled blood down the side of her face. Ali examined her for any other wounds that could be causing the woman so much apparent pain. The woman began to try to stand up and Ali grabbed her arm in order to steady her. It was then that she noticed the scratches. Deep red scratches stretched along both her forearms that shook with each of the woman's wails. Ali frowned at them. They couldn't've been from the car. They were evenly spaced. Five on each arm. These were from fingernails.
"What happened?" Ali asked as she tried to calm the woman down.
"Jackson," the woman gasped, her eyes filled with fear. Ali realised then that the woman wasn't screaming because she was in pain. She was screaming because she was afraid. "It was Jackson."
"Who's Jackson?" Ali questioned as the woman sobbed. Her ginger hair was matted over her face as she clung to her for dear life.
"My son," she whispered, her voice terrified before her eyes rolled back and she went limp. Ali struggled with the woman's weight. She wasn't a large person, but Ali was fairly slight and couldn't really support the dead weight of another human being in her arms. She gently laid the woman on the ground, turning an anxious glance in the direction the she had come from, almost expecting to see a man with an axe running towards them. She caught sight of Dean who was talking hurriedly on the phone. A steady line of traffic had built up behind the Impala.
The sound of an ambulance approaching in the distance calmed her somewhat. She checked that the woman was breathing before laying her in the recovery position. Dean jogged over when he was finished on the phone, bending down next to Ali to see what was happening.
"Oh god," he said nervously. "I didn't kill her, did I?" Ali shook her head.
"No, I think she just fainted," Ali said. "Her head doesn't look that bad. But look at this." Ali turned over one of the unconscious woman's arms so that Dean could see the scratches.
"Yikes." Dean winced at the sight of them. They looked painful. Before they had a chance to discuss anything else, a paramedic team had run over, instructing them both to keep back as they loaded the woman into the back of the ambulance. Dean went to move the Impala out of the road as Ali waited with baited breath to see if the woman was okay. She'd woken up and was now getting her wounds seen to.
"Excuse me?" a voice said from behind her. Ali turned around to see a police officer with a notepad and pen.
"Yeah." The man had a kind but strict face. His dark hair was gelled back from a side parting giving it a greasy look.
"I'm Officer Bateman," he said. "Can you tell me what happened to Ms White?" He gestured to the ambulance.
"She ran out of nowhere," Ali replied. "It wasn't Dean's fault. He braked as soon as he saw her."
"Dean's the driver?" the office clarified. Ali nodded. "And you are?"
"Allison."
"Allison," he said as if testing how it sounded on his tongue. "Can you tell me how Ms White got those scratches on her arm, Allison?" He didn't sound accusatory but his tone still made Ali feel guilty.
"I don't know," she replied as she shook her head. "She said someone named Jackson attacked her."
"Her son, Jackson?" Officer Bateman asked.
"Yeah."
"Dammit Carol," the officer mumbled under his breath as he put his notepad and pen away. Ali could tell that he must know Ms White outside of work. He looked saddened by the news that her son attacked her, but most of all, disappointed.
"What is it?"
"It's Jackson's thirteenth birthday today," he sighed as if he had just figured something out. Ali grimaced. "There are no further questions. You and your friend are free to go." He turned to leave, leaving Ali thoroughly confused.
"Wait!" she called. He turned around, his features exasperated like he'd just received terrible news. "Is she gonna be okay? What about Jackson? What he did was horrible." He shook his head as he approached her again, keeping his voice low.
"Yeah, and also impossible," he said. "The kid died eight months ago." With that, he was gone, leaving Ali with a million questions in her mind.
"Jackson White," Ali said, slapping down the newspaper clipping on the table in the diner. It was the same one they'd sat at the day before. "Age twelve. Found dead eight months ago after he didn't come home from school." Dean didn't look up from his breakfast that he'd managed to eat about half of since they returned to the diner. He'd wanted to leave as soon as the fiasco from the morning was over but couldn't bring himself to until Ms White had been given the all-clear at the hospital. They were expecting a call at any moment.
"Come on, Dean," she pleaded. "Vengeful spirit – it's gotta be."
"Yeah," Dean replied, his expression growing annoyed. He felt like a broken record. "Or it's a mom who's been driven out of her frickin mind by guilt a-and grief and would probably benefit from a few happy pills."
"Dean, you know that's bullshit. Look at this," she said, shoving the article in front of him. "The cops thought foul play but they never got the guy who did it."
"And our friend Carol was cleared as a suspect," Dean pointed out. "If Jackson was a spirit, why would he go after his mom."
"I dunno. He's been stuck in the veil for eight months. That can't be good for you."
"You know what? You're probably right," Dean replied. "But this ain't our gig, kiddo. Finding Sam is all that matters right now." Ali grumbled.
"It's a simple salt and burn," she said. "I know where he's buried. We can be gone before tonight."
"No," Dean said, shooting Ali a glare. He'd finished his meal and was already heading outside before Ali could say anything else. "Look, if it bothers you, I'll call Bobby and he'll get someone else to come down here and sort it out." Ali crossed her arms as they climbed into the Impala.
"Fine," she said grumpily. She couldn't see any way she'd get through to Dean. When he thought that Sam was in danger it was like he had tunnel vision. Nothing else mattered to him in those moments. Ali thought it unwise to get in the way of Dean looking out for his brother.
The ringing of a cell phone sounded through the car and Dean answered it, muttering a quick "thanks" after a few seconds. "She's fine. They're sending her home in a couple of hours." Ali nodded. "Let's get outta here."
He pulled the car out into the road, heading out of the town for the second time that day. Ali stared out of the windows as they drove. The streets seemed busier than yesterday, probably because it was now the weekend. People bustled from shop to shop, going about their daily chores and errands. Ali marvelled at how simple their lives were. How naïve they were. Growing up in a family of hunters, she'd never known what that was like.
"You've gotta be kidding me," Dean mumbled as he brought a fist down on the wheel. The traffic ahead looked solid and unmoving. Ali stuck her head out the window to see the lights up ahead. None of them were lit and a group of men in high-visibility jackets surrounded them.
"The lights are broken," she informed him. "It's probably gonna take us a while to get through."
"Screw that, we're leaving," he said, gunning the engine and doing a U-turn into the other lane. Just as he did, there was a small pop and a large whoosh of air. Flat tire.
"I guess someone just really wants us to stay in this town," Ali quipped, shooting Dean a smirk as he glared back.
And an hour and a half later they'd managed to push the car out of the road, changed the flat tire for the spare and were now at the mechanics to get a new one. A large nail in the road was the culprit for puncturing Baby's back left tire and to say Dean had taken the whole affair badly was a tremendous understatement. As he jacked the car up Ali could hear him mumbling profanities under his breath. She'd offered to help at least six times but when it came to his Baby, Dean was very possessive. He'd probably tell her she was doing it wrong anyway.
After another half an hour of Dean fiddling with his car that Ali was coming to dislike more and more, he'd finally finished.
"You know, if we'd just salted and burned that kid's corpse when I said, we'd be halfway to Indiana already," she drawled to a fairly pissed off Dean. The mechanic's yard reminded her somewhat of Bobby's place. She'd spent many hours by herself there over the years trying to find and scavenge parts that she thought were interesting. When a large pile of scrap metal had accumulated on his kitchen floor, Bobby had made her move it. She found it hard to believe the memory was over five years old.
"If we'd left yesterday like I wanted, we might've already found Sam!" Ali was taken aback at how angry the elder Winchester sounded. At first, she'd thought it was anger directed at the situation – at the fact that Sam was gone. Now she thought maybe it had something to do with her. She knew she had been pushing Dean's buttons all day, but that's what she and him did. They bickered and teased each other like she used to with Tyler. Maybe she'd taken it a step too far.
"I know," she said quietly. Dean's hands were braced against the roof of the car. He wasn't really angry. He was worried. "I just…" she trailed off. "I'm worried. It's not like you to walk away from a case."
"I don't care about the god damn case, Ali!" he yelled as he turned around to face her. He still had a wrench in his hand and for a fleeting moment, Ali thought he was going to hit her. He dropped it on the ground. "All I care about is finding Sam!" The girl gritted her teeth together. She could feel her cheeks redden in frustration.
"Why?!" she yelled back, throwing her arms up in the air. "Sam left by himself, Dean. He didn't get taken or kidnapped. He left by himself. There's no reason for you to be worried." She took a breath as Dean stared at her. She wasn't sure what it was that caused her to explode like she did. Maybe it was rage still spilling over from what happened in Oregon. Maybe it was how blatantly Dean had been lying to her. "Unless, of course, there's something you're not telling me." She shot him a knowing look. Dean broke eye contact.
"I don't have time for this," he said, turning away and wiping his greasy hands on a rag.
"Why did Sam take off?" No answer. "What did you argue about?" Ignored again. "What was it about, Dean?"
"It's nothing," he said dismissively. Ali closed her eyes, bracing herself before she asked the next question.
"Is it something to do with John?" Dean stopped what he was doing and looked up at her. His father's death was still very much an open wound.
"Why would you ask that?" he questioned quietly. Ali shook her head.
"Things aren't like they used to be," she replied in an equally quiet voice. "I mean, you're different. Ever since-."
"Ever since what?" he asked, his voice raised again. "Ever since my father died? Sorry if I'm not all Mr Peachy-Red-Roses-And-Sunshine." Ali rolled her eyes.
"You know that's not what I meant."
"Look, I've got my secrets," Dean said. "I'm sure there's a hell of a lotta stuff you're keeping back too"
"What's that supposed to mean?" Ali asked with a frown.
"It means I know how to mind my own damn business," he barked. Ali shook her head. They were getting off topic. She was going to find out why Sam left if it was the last thing she ever did.
"Is it something he said?" she asked with a raised brow. "Is it something to do with how John died?"
"Ali, drop it okay," Dean warned. His voice was so deadly serious that Ali could barely breathe under his piercing stare. "I've never asked you about my father. I'd appreciate it if you did the same." Ali took a breath.
"What are you talking about?" Dean scoffed at her.
"Don't play dumb," he said with narrowed eyes. "I saw the way you were with him. You had your own issues with the guy." Ali remained perfectly still. "Sure, I wanna know what that was about. So how 'bout this? You tell me what your beef was with my old man, and I'll tell you why Sam took off?" Dean had bent down so that he was eye-level with the teen. His face was so close to hers that he could see the muscle of her jaw clenching. She didn't say a word. "Didn't think so." He backed off, turning away to finish up on his car. When he heard the sound of shoes slapping against the concrete, he didn't have to turn around to know that she was gone.
Ali lost track of time after she'd left the mechanic's. She estimated that about three hours had passed whilst she aimlessly wondered around the town. She and Dean needed some time to calm down and the best way to do that was if they were apart.
The sky had darkened considerably since the morning. A large grey cloud loomed overhead, threatening to spill over the town at any moment. Caught up in her thoughts, Ali didn't notice any of it. It wasn't until a speck of water landed on her cheek that she realised it was raining. Could this day suck anymore? She wasn't even wearing a jacket.
As the rain picked up, Ali slipped into the small shop that she was walking past to get away from the rain. It was oddly dark inside. The only light source apart from the large window at the front of the store was a dim red lamp in the corner.
At first, she worried she'd accidently stepped into some kind of gentleman's club, but as she spied the unusual trinkets and posters on the wall, she realised she was wrong. The set of tarot cards illuminated by the fiery glow gave it away. It was some kind of divination supply shop. As Ali looked around, she noticed several crystal balls placed on shelves behind glass. As the light refracted through the glass, an array of colours dispersed through one of the orbs. The blonde girl thought it to be almost beautiful.
"Are you here for a reading?" Ali jumped at the voice behind her and spun around, coming face to face with a short woman hovering behind a table. Had she been there the whole time?
"Umm." Ali stuttered, caught off guard. "I uh…"
"Half price today only." The woman caught her hand, though not in an aggressive way. Although Ali was a little taken aback, she didn't pull away. The woman stared at her with quizzical eyes. Ali guessed she wasn't the real deal. Even so, this kind of thing gave her the creeps. If her future was going to be anything like her past, she didn't want to know.
"Sorry, I don't have any money," Ali replied, edging a little towards the door. A quick glance outside told her the rain cleared away.
"Free for you," she offered. The teen bit her lip. One reading couldn't hurt. Her lack of reply was interpreted as a yes as the woman unfolded Ali's hand and started to cryptically trace the creases of her palm with the pads of her fingers. On second thoughts… Ali obviously believed in the supernatural, but this kind of thing weirded her out.
Just then, she caught sight of a familiar woman outside the store through the glass. It was the woman Dean had hit with the car. The woman with the scratches. Mrs White.
Ali ripped her hand away from the fortune teller, her eyes glued to the woman outside.
"Sorry, I have to go," she muttered absentmindedly as she turned fully away from the table. The short woman grabbed her hand before she could make it out the door, this time much more forcefully. Ali pulled away on instinct and was out the door before she realised the woman had closed a small square of card into her hand.
"Orientem Fortunes" the card read. Ali turned around to see the name written in the same calligraphy above the door of the shop. It was a business card.
Forgetting it in a second, Ali caught up with Mrs White, tapping her on the shoulder once she was in reaching distance. The woman shuddered at the contact as she turned around.
"Mrs White?" Ali said with a careful smile. "My friend hit you with his car this morning? I'm glad you're alright."
"Oh, yes," she replied with a nod of recognition, her mind elsewhere.
"I don't mean to be rude," Ali started. "But shouldn't you be at home?" The woman looked like she might break down at any moment. Ali glanced down at her arms to see that they'd been bandaged up.
"The hospital sent me home but I couldn't stay there," she muttered, her eyes glazed over in fear and grief. "Not in that house. Not with…"
"With your son?" The woman looked up in surprise. "I believe you."
"At first I thought it was my mind playing cruel tricks," she said. "But I can feel him. The house goes cold when he's around."
"I think Jackson is stuck here because he can't find peace," Ali said softly. "I wanna help him. And you." She nodded, a wave of sadness rushing over her.
"Maybe I deserve it," she said tearfully. "Maybe if I'd been a better mother-."
"You can't think like that," Ali interrupted softly. "It wasn't your fault." The woman sniffled as she grabbed a handkerchief from her pocket and used it to wipe her puffy eyes. "Mrs White, is there a place you can stay for a while? A friend? Family member?"
"My neighbour," she said. Ali nodded.
"Okay. Why don't you go get some rest?" She nodded as Ali sent her a reassuring smile, turning around and heading towards her street. Ali watched her go, determination to help the poor woman the only thing on her mind. Unfortunately, it was short lived. Within a few moments, she could feel eyes on the back of her head.
"Nicely handled," Dean Winchester drawled as he pulled up next to her. Ali huffed as she continued to walk along the sidewalk whist trying to ignore the man in the Impala who was driving at her walking pace. "What? You gonna ignore me? I paid you a compliment."
"I have nothing to say to you," she replied curtly without looking across at him.
"Come on, don't be a drama queen," he teased. Ali shot him an annoyed looked. "Get in the car."
"No."
"Stop being a kid and get in the car."
"No!"
"Allison, sweetie," he said in a mocking tone. "Would you pretty please get in the car?" Ali ignored him. "You want me to apologise for yelling at you? Fine. I apologise."
"I don't give a crap about you yelling at me," she replied.
"Okay, well I can't make you get in the car, but I'm getting the hell outta dodge," Dean said. "Have fun hitchhiking back to South Dakota." Ali sighed, casting the elder Winchester a look who held a smug expression on his face. She opened the passenger door and slid into the Impala.
"Indiana, here we come," Dean muttered as he revved the engine and pulled out. "What's this?" he asked, pulling the small piece of card from Ali's hand that she forgot she had. "I thought you weren't into all the mystical fortune stuff?"
"I'm not," she replied, a little frustrated as she snatched the card back from Dean and shoved it into her pocket.
"How was she?" Dean asked. Ali didn't need to query who he meant.
"As well as she could be with the ghost of her dead son haunting her," she replied. She knew the bitterness in her voice was obvious but she didn't care. "Let's just go find Sam."
"Okay," Dean said as they made it to the set of lights for the third time that day. However, instead of going straight on get out of the town, Dean took a sharp left. "We just gotta make one stop first."
Ali wasn't sure what thoughts ran through her head when Dean pulled up outside the cemetery. She wondered what was going through his mind even more. What had happened in the hours they'd been apart that had changed his mind?
"Shovel's in the trunk," he muttered as he nodded over his shoulder. "Better get shovelling."
It was hard work for someone with as small a frame as Ali, especially on her own. Dean watched with an air of amusement as the teen scooped the dirt from the grave into a heap. The rain had softened the ground to a degree that meant a lot of sludge, puddles, and feet sinking below the surface of the mud. Ali carried on until she discovered the coffin buried six feet under.
She let Dean retrieve the gasoline from the trunk and pour it onto the corpse of the young boy. The story really was tragic, but she hoped that in doing this, the Mrs White could begin to heal from her grief.
It had been dark for a fair time before the flames ignited the salted bones. Clumps of mud clung to Ali's hair, along with almost every other inch of her. She was surprised when Dean didn't turn her away from sitting shotgun in the state she was in. She was even more surprised when he pulled up outside the motel and instructed her to get a room and a shower.
The blonde girl stripped off her clothes into the sink as she stared at her dirty face in the mirror. She looked disgusting and was definitely grateful at the prospect of a thorough scrub. Her nails would definitely need it.
Her feet left muddy prints on the white tiles as she stepped into the shower. She turned on the water immediately and didn't wait until it was warm before getting under the stream of water. She washed her body twice, her hair three times. The gritty dirt clung to the strands of wet blonde hair tighter than she'd anticipated.
When she moved to scrub her feet again, she noticed that the anklet that hung around her ankle had also been coated in a layer of clay. Huffing, she stepped out of the shower and unhooked the metal clasp and rinsed it under tap, using her nails to scrape out the scum from between the black stones. She left it on the side before climbing back into the shower to finish off her wash.
A second or two after stepping under the shower, she felt the water suddenly turn hot, causing a burning sensation to run down her back. She moved straight away, rubbing the sore spot between her shoulder blades where the water had scolded her back. She tested the temperature with her hands before resuming her shower again and finishing off.
She was dried and dressed when Dean walked through the motel room door.
"Didn't pick up any EMF at the house," he informed, waving the modified Walkman at her. "Looks like Mrs White will be back there in no time." Ali nodded gratefully.
"Does it bother you that we didn't figure out who killed her son?" she asked.
"That's not our job," he reminded her. "We're hunters, not the police. We put the kid to rest and saved the mom from more grief than she needs. I'd say that's a pretty good day." Ali smiled.
"Yeah, I guess you're right."
"I'm always right." She rolled her eyes at him.
"Hey, do I have a red mark or something here?" she asked, pulling down the neck of her top to expose the base of her neck between her shoulder blades. "I think I burnt it in the shower."
"I don't see anything," Dean replied after taking a quick look. Ali shrugged. "Can we go now?" he asked, nodding to the door. It was nearing midnight but Ali knew if she kept Dean from his brother a moment longer she actually might have to hitchhike back to South Dakota. She nodded, grabbing her back of muddy clothes from the floor and following Dean out.
"Let's go find Sam."
AN: Finally updated this! Sorry for the wait. Hope you all had a good Easter if you celebrate, and if you don't, hope you had a good weekend :)
Hope you liked this chapter. Sorry to any Sam-lovers who missed him in this chapter! (Is there even anyone who doesn't love Sam?) Things got a bit tense between Dean and Ali for a second there too. Looks like they've both been keeping secrets from each other.
Would love to hear about how you're finding this story so far and what you'd like to see happen/more of/less of.
Let me know what you thought, much love x
