The Singer Salvage yard stood that Thursday morning much like it had for the last fifty years or so: derelict, chaotic, and strangely comforting. If you didn't know your way around the maze of scrap metal and old cars, you could easily get yourself lost, but that wasn't a problem for Allison Venator. She knew that yard like the back of her hand. Better, in fact. She and her older brother had spent hours out there playing amongst the wreckages and looking for new places to hide. Now that he was gone, Ali didn't go out there as much, but when she did, she still found the same refuge. Despite the fact that, even with her small frame, she was far too large to fit into any of her old hiding places she used to go when she was seven, she could still find an old, rusted truck, sit in the passenger seat and close her eyes. The scratchiness of the old leather and musky smell in the air was all she needed to be propelled back to her childhood.
It had been three weeks since Sam and Dean had driven away. Three weeks. It wasn't that long when she thought about it, but she was used to spending every waking hour with them. She was used to spending eight hours a day in the back of the Impala. Not that being back in Sioux Falls wasn't great, but it was just so different. The seventeen-year-old found herself not knowing what to do most of the time. Every day she asked Bobby if he'd found a hunt, but every day he said no. Ali suspected on occasion he wasn't telling the truth, but she didn't call him out on it. She knew she'd hurt him by barely being around over the last year, even if he'd never say it. She knew.
She also knew that her constant hovering was putting the older hunter on edge. Since moving in permanently at the age of eleven, she'd always been able to relax when at the house, but now, she was irritable. Antsy. The need to be doing something all the time was only a recent development. Bobby often commented that she was probably the only teenager around that couldn't slob in front of the TV for a whole day. Ali reminded him that she was also probably the only teenager around who hunted ghosts in her spare time.
After a week or so had passed, it became clear to both Ali and Bobby that the Winchesters weren't coming back anytime soon. The hunt that Dean had said they were going on before they left had stretched into two and would likely stretch into a few more. Ali had texted Sam a few times and he occasionally replied. She hadn't tried to contact the elder Winchester. She doubted he would respond if she did. Even so, she still checked in with Bobby every so often to see if there had been any calls, but each time, she was disappointed. The older hunter insisted that Dean just needed time.
They have to be back at some point, Ali thought, the warm air brushing her face. The truck she was sitting in wasn't exactly comfortable, but at least she wasn't sitting on the ground. Its red paint was sparse, having peeled off many years ago. The wheels were missing, as was the engine. All it was really was a leather covered bench inside a metal shell. The windshield was still in place but the windows had been gone for a long time. Truthfully, Ali knew deep down that she'd screwed up her relationship with the Winchesters – a relationship she'd been working to build for the last year. It hadn't been easy to construct, but all it had taken was a stupid decision and a couple of white lies to tear it down.
The blonde seventeen-year-old sat out in the yard for maybe two hours before wondering back inside the house. It didn't feel like home anymore. She felt like a guest in the house, almost like she shouldn't be there. Bobby was in the study, books and notes strewn over his desk.
"Did you find anything today?" Ali asked pointlessly, already knowing the answer. She leaned over the large desk to pick some papers and Bobby swatted her hand away, shaking his head.
"Nothin' today, kiddo," he sighed without looking up. Ali nodded, turning around and sitting in the edge of the desk, the balls of her feet resting on the floor.
"Do you need any help?" she asked, trying to sound enthusiastic. "I can answer the phones if you want?" Bobby sighed again, but this time the sound was much deeper and weighted. Ali bit her lip as she watched him sit back in his chair, a hand coming up to remove the baseball cap from his head.
"I'm bothering you, aren't I?" Ali observed in a low voice, and although she didn't want to annoy the man, she couldn't help but feel a sense of rejection from him. Bobby shook his head heavily.
"You could never bother me," he replied sincerely. "But you sitting around here all say feeling sorry for yourself is makin' me climb the walls." Ali's eyes filled with regret and the older hunter's expression softened. "You gotta get outta this house, Al. Get some air. Quit watchin' the phone because you know it ain't gonna ring."
"What do you want me to do?" Ali asked desperately, searching the man for answers. "It's not like I got any friend around here." Bobby blinked at her, sighing again and sitting forward in the chair.
"You could go work on your car?" he suggested after a long moment. Ali shrugged. She did love that hunk of junk metal she liked to call a car. Once she'd turned fifteen, she'd begged Bobby for a car of her own. He'd refused, saying he simply didn't have the cash to buy her one, though if she wanted to rebuild one from the scrap yard, he didn't have anything against it. Ali had been ecstatic at the time, though now she'd lost the enthusiasm for it.
"I haven't in over a year," she mumbled back.
"Yeah, I know," Bobby replied. "But that doesn't mean you can't now. I moved her to the garage." Ali looked up, a weak smile tugging at her lips. Bobby nodded towards the door, a silent encouragement for her to go. After a moment, she headed out to the yard.
The last time she'd worked on it, she'd been struggling with getting the engine running. She'd spent hours scavenging parts from the old, broken down vehicles that littered the salvage yard and even worked her ass off at the café in town so she could purchase the parts she couldn't find. With a little help from Bobby, Ali had also managed to hammer out the dents in the bonnet. The car was, however, far from finished. In her mind, Ali imagined how it would look when the 1967 Camaro convertible was finished. Gleaming Nantucket blue paint and all.
Once she'd reached the garage, she yanked open the heavy wooden door, expecting to see the pile of rusted metal she knew so well. What met her eyes was certainly not what she was expecting. The light streaming into the dark garage formed a beam of light which landed on the car made it look more beautiful than Ali could have ever imagined. The curves and contours were perfect in every way and she couldn't help but run a finger along the smooth coat of paint. Ali couldn't speak or make any sound to convey what she was feeling inside of her in that moment. All she could do was stare.
"Not bad, huh?" Ali was brought out of her stunned daze by Bobby's voice behind her. He'd followed her out and was now leaning against the garage door, a content smile on his face as he watched the girl before him. A wide smile grew on her face and she ran towards him, almost knocking him over.
"You finished it?" Ali asked, unable to contain the excitement she felt. "When-? Wh- how did you-?"
"Thought it might be a nice surprise for your birthday," Bobby replied. Ali was about to say that she turned seventeen months ago, but then she remembered that she'd been with Sam and Dean. Not with Bobby. Guilt rose in her stomach, but Bobby shook his head, as if reading her thoughts. "You don't mind, do you?" Ali frowned at him as if he'd just asked the most ludicrous question in the world.
"Of course not," she said with a small laugh as she turned around to stare at the finished car. "I don't know what to say." Ali had always loved cars. It was true that she'd always been a little envious of Dean's Impala, but there was something about the beauty in front of her that she loved so much more. Maybe it was because it was something she and Bobby had worked on together. Maybe it was because the reason she'd chosen that specific car was because Tyler had always said he wanted one, and because of that, it had a special place in her heart.
Bobby bumped her shoulder and held out a set of keys. Ali took them eagerly and leaned into the Camaro through the open window, sliding the key into the ignition and turning. The engine hummed satisfyingly as the starter motor kicked in. It didn't spit and choke like it had a year ago when she'd been trying to fix it. It was as smooth as treacle.
"You wanna take her for a ride?" the older hunter asked as Ali pulled the driver's door open. She chuckled at his question.
"Uh, yeah," she replied, the answer obvious. "You coming?"
"I gotta make a few calls," Bobby replied as he watched the girl climb into the seat, her fingers curling around the steering wheel and resting there for a moment. "Don't be too long."
"I won't," Ali replied without looking up. Her gaze was focused through the wind shield and Bobby guessed that her mind was imagining exactly what it would feel like to be cruising down the highway, roof down with the wind blowing through her hair. He smiled, pulling the garage doors open wider so she could drive out.
A week or so later, the excitement of the finished Camaro had worn off and Ali was back to pacing. Her mind wouldn't settle and Bobby worried that things would remain the same for a long time. It was nearly nightfall when the older hunter found Ali sitting tensely at the kitchen table, her knee bouncing nervously as she stared at her mobile.
"What if they're in trouble?" Ali asked as she chewed on her finger nails. "I haven't heard from Sam all week. Something might've happened and-."
"I'm sure they're fine," Bobby tried to assure her. "If they're busy on a hunt, he won't have time to reply." Ali wasn't satisfied with that explanation. The Winchesters wanted nothing to do with her anymore. She knew that Dean felt responsible for the hex, and he'd stay away as long as he thought she could be in danger when she was around them.
"All I can think about is that if I'd never set foot in that stupid fortune teller shop, none of this would've happened," Ali mumbled to herself. "I got hexed. That's why they left."
"This isn't your fault, kiddo," Bobby said, taking a step towards her in the hopes that she would find it comforting. He'd always found Allison a complex person to understand, but after living with her for five years, he'd thought he'd figured her out. Now, he wasn't so sure.
"Yeah, everyone keeps saying that," Ali replied, shaking her head as she stood up. "But it is."
"Al…"
"I did this, Bobby." She cut him off, tears stinging her eyes. There was a profound sense of loss in her blue orbs that the older hunter found hard to process. He recognised it, but he hadn't seen it since the months after Tyler died. "I screwed everything up!"
"No, you didn't," Bobby repeated. Ali ran her fingers through her hair as if she was growing frustrated with him.
"Yes, I did!" she yelled. "I'm the one who got hexed. I'm the one who lied." She was pointing to herself now accusingly. "I'm not one who attacked you, Bobby. I'm the one who tried to kill Sam and Dean!"
"That wasn't you," he snapped back furiously, enraged that she could think she was capable of doing such things. He wouldn't allow her to carry that burden. He couldn't. "That was all Electra."
"She was a part of me, Bobby," Ali argued. Electra hadn't just possessed her. She'd come from her. "She was a part of me and now she's gone and she's taken everything with her."
"She wasn't you." Bobby shook his head as he echoed the words he'd told her over and over. "She was nothing like you."
"Then why do I feel like I lost something?!" Ali yelled, unable to contain her anger any more. Bobby stared at her, refusing to accept what she was telling him. "There's something wrong with me," she whispered, a tear slipping down her cheek. "I've felt different ever since it happened."
"There's nothing wrong with you, Allison," Bobby said sombrely. "What you're feeling is natural. Sam and Dean left. That's a big change." Ali shook her head at him.
"No, this isn't about them," she clarified. "I don't feel the same as before." The older hunter placed a hand on her shoulder and squeezed, hoping the gesture was somewhat comforting.
"It's gonna take a few weeks, kiddo," he explained. "But you'll get back to normal." She didn't believe him, but she left the argument at that. They were both tired.
Ali had a dream that night. A nightmare. She was falling through darkness, the air lukewarm. She couldn't even feel the rush of wind on her skin as she plummeted further and further down. There was only empty space. She yelled for help - first for Bobby of course. Then for Dean and for Sam. Then for Tyler. There was no reply. Ali yelled for her parents, but no answer came. She wondered if maybe she was in hell, and finally she yelled for John Winchester, the only other person she could think of that might be able to help. She found the realisation that there were so few people left in her life jarring, and she screamed some more. When her throat was raw, all that was left was a deafening silence, and all Ali felt was complete and utter loneliness.
Days later, things were no better, and Bobby had decided that enough was enough. Ali had sat in her room the majority of the time and had only emerged for a shower or, occasionally, some food. The older hunter feared that if things continued, she could spiral into a depression he wasn't sure she'd be able to climb out of. Allison Venator was a strong and resilient girl, but Bobby had never seen her like this.
"Pack your stuff," Bobby announced one day as the blonde girl picked at some questionable looking chicken soup. "You're staying at the roadhouse." Ali dropped her spoon in surprise. It clattered against the china bowl before falling on the wooden table.
"You're kicking me out?" she asked incredulously. Bobby sighed.
"No, Al, I'm not kicking you out," he clarified. "But I've gotta go help out an old friend on a hunt and Ellen's been bugging me about sending you over for the last two weeks."
"Can't I just stay here?" she asked flatly. Ali's sadness and emotional turmoil often presented itself as bluntness and sarcasm on the outside.
"No," Bobby said in a final manor. "You haven't seen the sun in three days and I don't think I should leave you alone." He could practically here her next statement as it shone out of her eyes: then don't leave, but to Bobby's surprise, she nodded.
"Fine," Ali sighed. "I'll get my stuff." She left the rest of the soup, though she'd had barely two mouthfuls. If Bobby was going on a hunt, he'd be gone for at least a few days. She packed enough for five, figuring there'd be somewhere for her to wash her clothes. She tended to wear the same three outfit variations anyway. Any kind of jumper or large t-shirt over a pair of ripped jeans was her usual get-up.
Although the idea of leaving the safety of Bobby's place was daunting, Ali couldn't help but feel a small sense of excitement at the prospect of seeing Ellen Harvelle again. The last time Ali had seen her, she'd promised the woman that she'd keep in touch. So far, she hadn't done a very good job of it. She was equally excited at the opportunity to drive her car again. The blue Camaro did ride spectacularly and she couldn't wait to get on the freeway with the roof open.
Once she was ready, Ali bid goodbye to Bobby and headed for the door. He seemed glad that she was getting out of the house and the blonde girl tried to keep a smile on her face in order to make sure he wouldn't be worried.
"Hey." Ali turned back to the older hunter at the sound of his voice, her brow furrowing at the Colt 38 Super in his outstretched hand. She recognised it as from Bobby's personal collection he didn't get out very often. "Take it," he prompted when she didn't grasp it from his hand immediately.
"You know, most people give their teenage daughters pepper spray," Ali pointed out, eyeing the gun wearily before raising a brow at the man before her. He rolled his eyes.
"Well screw convention," he replied, taking her hand and placing the gun in her palm. It was a nice weapon. The custom grips alone must've cost at least two hundred dollars. Ali remembered Bobby telling her that they'd been hand crafted in German silver. The intricate design of the gold snaking its way across the shiny silver plate was rather beautiful. Ali thought that Bobby would be reluctant to part with it, but he seemed adamant that she should take it. "I have a holster if you want it?" Bobby offered, but Ali shook her head.
"Since when were you okay with me walking around with a gun?" she questioned, her blue eyes flicking up from the weapon to him.
"Since now," Bobby replied gruffly before pulling her to his chest. Ali knew what that meant. He was worried. He'd sleep better if she had a proper weapon. "You be careful, you hear me?" he told her as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
"You too," she mumbled before they pulled apart.
"Always am," Bobby said, causing Ali to chuckle as she rolled her eyes. "Take care, kiddo."
The roadhouse was bustling when Ali arrived, reminding her of how it used to be when she'd visited growing up. Bobby had dropped her and Tyler off when he had to go on a hunt once, and since then Tyler had made it a regular thing to drive over from Sioux Falls and stay there for a few days. He liked meeting hunters and learning from them. Occasionally he'd be invited on a hunt and Ali would be left on her own with Ellen and her daughter.
The business of the saloon meant that Ali's entrance went seemingly unnoticed by the rest of the occupants. Ali was grateful for that. She headed straight over to the bar and took a seat a few stools down from a man in a dark brown leather jacket. It reminded her of the one Dean wore often and she concluded that perhaps he was a hunter too. Taking a look around the rest of the room, Ali realised that he wasn't the only one. She could pick out at least half a dozen others.
"Didn't expect to see you here anytime soon," a voice said in front of her and Ali looked back around to see a girl in her early twenties leaning against the bar, a cloth scrunched up in her hand. The two locked eyes, the older girl looking the other up and down. "You want a beer?" Ali was surprised at the girl's offer. Jo Harvelle raised a brow when she didn't reply straight away. Ali nodded quickly. Jo reached behind her and pulled a bottle of Founders Curmudgeon from a fridge, opened it on the edge of the bar and slid it over to her.
"Thanks," Ali murmured as she took a long sip. She could feel Jo's eyes on her and she knew questions were coming.
"Winchesters with you?" The seventeen- year-old's eyes flicked up at the inevitable question before settling back down on her drink.
"No," she replied simply. Jo seemed irritated by her lack of elaboration. "Disappointed?" She scoffed loudly and Ali was sure she must've rolled her eyes too. Although she wasn't certain, Ali was pretty sure Jo carried a torch for Dean. It was only the small things that had told her this, but the way she'd been around the older Winchester was similar to how the girl had been around her brother years ago.
"No," Jo replied defensively. Ali arched a brow at her challengingly. "Come on, they must've told you what happened." Ali nodded, taking another sip of her beer. She knew that Sam had attacked her when he'd been possessed by Meg. She also knew that she and Jo Harvelle had something pretty morbid in common.
"Right," Ali said quietly. "I guess you guys fell out."
"We didn't just fall out," Jo said, looking a little like she'd been criticised. She kept her voice low as she spoke. "John Winchester is the reason my father is dead." A flash of sympathy twisted in Ali's gut and she couldn't help but feel sorry for the older girl.
"You blame him?" she questioned.
"Don't you?" Ali was a little taken aback, having been unaware that Jo knew the truth as to how her parents died. She only knew how her father had died because Tyler had told her. Although they were friends, Ali doubted that Tyler ever would've told Jo about John's role in Elliot and Katherine's deaths. They weren't supposed to tell anyone.
"No," Ali said truthfully after a long moment. "I made my peace with John." Jo frowned as she sunk to her elbows on the bar.
"Then why aren't you with Sam and Dean?" she asked, seeming genuinely curious. "Why are you here?"
"Because I think Dean blames him," Ali replied thoughtfully. "And I don't think John ever made peace with himself." The two fell silent as Jo clicked her tongue, unsure of what she should say. She knew that any kind of condolences she could offer would be pointless from personal experience.
"So, I guess you and I are kinda the same then," she settled for. Ali shook her head, her brow furrowing as she took another sip of her drink.
"We're not the same," she replied heavily. "And how'd you know about my parents anyways?" Ali asked, a little annoyed. "It's not exactly something people talk about over a beer."
"Overheard Bobby tell my momma way back when," Jo admitted. "Don't worry, I haven't told anyone." Ali nodded, glad that she seemed to have some understanding of the situation. "Tyler told you about my dad?" Ali nodded. Jo bit her lip. "You ever find out what happened to him?"
"Not yet," she muttered in response, her mood taking a sour turn. She didn't mind Jo asking about her brother, but every time she thought about him, it just seemed to make her angry.
"I don't get it," the older girl said as she leant further across the bar, her elbows propping her up. Ali's eyes flickered up to meet hers, unsure where the conversation was heading, having assumed it was over. She'd never really known how to act around Jo Harvelle. She supposed she'd considered her a friend once, but really Jo had always been far closer to Tyler. "Dean was so adamant that I shouldn't get into the world of hunting if I could help it, but he let you tag along with them for months." Jo paused as she regarded the girl across from her. "Why is that? I mean, I'm older than you. I get that you're a Venator but your last name doesn't make you a good hunter."
"You sound like you're jealous," Ali pointed out, a little amused. The corner of Jo's lips twitched a little into a smile.
"Maybe I am." The younger girl scoffed at that as she slid the empty beer bottle back across the counter. Jo caught it before grabbing another from the fridge and sliding it back to her in one swift motion.
"You shouldn't be," Ali told her, gulping down a few mouthfuls of the cold beverage.
"Why's that?" Jo asked with a raised brow. Ali shot her an incredulous look that said: are you serious? The older girl rolled her eyes. "You've got all the freedom that I want. You get to hunt."
"You don't wanna be like me, Jo," Ali replied. "My whole family's dead. Last month I got hexed and tried to kill the closet thing I have to a father and now I'm drinking beer at a bar because I literally have nowhere else to go."
"I guess you're right," she replied, her fingers drumming on the counter. "Tyler always promised me he'd take me on a hunt one day." Ali watched the older girl as her eyes seemed to grow distant like her mind was wondering back to better years.
"He promised me he'd take me to Disney Land," she shot back flatly. "I'm sorry that you don't like your mom telling you what to do, but at least you have a chance at a normal life if you want it." Ali told her. "At least you have someone that wants that for you."
"And if you had the chance at a normal life, you'd take it?" Jo asked with raised brows. Ali thought for a moment, but there was really no point. There'd never be anything else. Her life had been dictated for her before she was born. She wasn't sure how to want anything else.
"No, I guess I wouldn't," Ali replied. Jo took a step back as she ran the rag through her fingers before throwing it over her shoulder.
"Then you're a hypocrite," she decided, leaning her hands on the edge of the counter. Ali shook her head.
"Look, it doesn't really matter," she said dismissively. "The point is that your mom isn't trying to control you, she just doesn't want you to end up dead." Ali told her. "That's not a bad thing." The two were silent for a long moment as Jo considered her words. There was something infuriating about Allison Venator. Maybe it was because of the fact that she was younger than her, but seemed to know so much more about a world she longed to be a part of. Jo was envious, but at the same time, she couldn't help but admire the girl.
"You sound like Dean," she said finally, an expression tugging at her mouth that was more amused than anything. Ali shrugged.
"The guy knows what he's talking about." Jo gave a nod of agreement before excusing herself to see to another customer. A man had approached the bar and had been trying to get her attention for a few minutes by grumpily tapping his glass on the counter.
Ali slumped down against the bar, her chin resting on her folded arms. Not before long the seat next to her became occupied and the teenager's nostrils filled with the scent of cigars and hard liquor. She turned towards her new neighbour, her eyes falling on a man she recognised as Ash. When he noticed her staring, his eyes squinted together as if to focus them better.
"I know you," he said as he pointed a finger at her, his words slurring a little.
"We met once before," Ali informed him. "You're the genius." A proud smile made its way onto Ash's lips as his eyes seemed to blur a little. Ali wouldn't've been surprised if he'd passed out right then next to her.
"That's right," he replied as he leant over the bar and helped himself to another drink. "And you're the hunter with the famous family." Ali wasn't sure what to say to that. She knew her family was well known in the hunting world, but she'd never considered herself famous in that respect.
"I guess I am," Ali replied, taking sip from her beer. "You seen Ellen around?"
"Supply run," Ash responded as he pointed a thumb over his shoulder. "She'll be back." Ali nodded. "I gotta get back to my game." The teen looked over her shoulder to see a group of guys around the pool table. "Catch you later." He stood and Ali giggled a little as he struggled to walk in a straight line.
"You sure you're okay to play?" she called after him, raising a brow at the intoxicated man. At least he wasn't on the floor.
"The night is still young, Miss Venator," he replied, throwing a wink over his shoulder. Ali laughed under her breath as he stumbled away, a bottle of liquor in his hand.
It was sometime later when Ellen showed up. The older woman seemed elated when she spotted Ali sitting at the bar and greeted her with a big hug. Ali seemed apologetic when asking if it was okay if she stayed at the roadhouse for a few days, but Ellen insisted that it was fine. Even so, Ali was adamant that she'd earn her keep and promised she'd help out with service the next day.
From the moment she saw her, Ellen knew that things were not okay with Allison Venator. She could tell by the way she sat, her eyes downcast on her beer and her shoulders slumped. Ellen didn't have to be a genius to figure out something was up, she just had to be a mother. It was easier for her to tell that something was bothering the seventeen-year old. She'd informed the blonde girl that as soon as the roadhouse was closed for the night, they'd talk.
Ali hadn't eaten much that day. The realisation only hit her when her third beer that she'd been sipping went straight to her head. She finished it quickly, declining when Jo offered her another. She didn't know what she was doing at the roadhouse. She didn't know what she was doing at all. Things hadn't been perfect with the Winchesters, but they had been better than what she had now.
Nothing.
That was exactly what she had now. Sam and Dean were gone. Tyler was gone. Her parents. She didn't even have John to be mad at anymore. And she was pretty sure she was losing Bobby. That came hand in hand with the way she was losing herself.
Ali was different. Bobby was wrong when he'd said it was going to take some time before she felt back to normal. She'd lost something. Whatever Electra was, she'd taken something with her when she'd been ripped out her body. Ali couldn't put a finger on what it was. All she felt was a profound absence of something deep within her. She felt uncomfortable in her own skin. It was almost as if her body was too big for her. There was a void inside her, one she needed to fill. The alcohol wouldn't suffice. She wasn't sure whether the return of the Winchesters would help either.
She held Tyler's silver knife in her right hand, the tip of the blade pressing into the counter under the weight of her arm. She released the pressure a little, absentmindedly twirling the blade between her fingers, her skin brushing against her brother's initials.
"Put the knife away, honey," a voice said under her breath. Ali looked up to meet the woman's concerned gaze, her brow furrowing. Ellen nodded over her shoulder and the blonde girl followed her line of sight. A man sat further along the bar from her, cradling a whisky in his hand. It was the same one she'd seen when she first came in. Dark brown leather jacket. He looked away when Ali caught his eye, but she knew he'd been watching her. She put the knife away, suddenly feeling self-conscious.
"You can't buy blades like that." Ellen said pointedly, offering her a tight smile. Ali shuddered, remembering how Gordon had recognised the knife when he'd tried to kill Sam. She cast a glance down the bar. The man was nowhere to be seen. "We're closing up soon. Why don't you go grab your stuff?" The seventeen-year-old nodded, hopping off the bar stool and heading out into the night.
Ali walked briskly to her car, the glow of light from the roadhouse growing weaker as she distanced herself from it. The night had drawn in and she was glad she'd listened to Bobby when he'd told her to bring a jacket. She was also glad that Ellen said it was fine for her to stay for a few nights. Ali didn't feel like sleeping her in car or driving through the night to get back to South Dakota. As she walked, she heard a pair of footsteps behind her. The parking lot seemed pretty deserted, but she could still hear the murmur of voices from the saloon. She quickened her pace, finding that the pair behind her quickened too, their footfalls falling into step with hers. Someone was following her.
Ali internally berated herself for leaving the Colt Bobby had given her in the glove compartment. It would've made her feel safer as she made what seemed like an endless trek across the parking lot. Once she'd made it to the Camaro, she opened the door, reaching in to grab her bag from the passenger seat.
"Venator." The voice came from behind her and Ali looked around, startled by the dark figure that was so close to her. She only had a moment to frown before he'd pushed her to the ground and something sharp was pressed against her throat. She didn't scream. The knife made it clear that screaming wasn't a good idea. A second man appeared, grabbing the knife from the other and taking over, using his weight to hold her down.
"You make a sound, you're dead," the second man told her matter of factly. She squirmed under him, trying to shove him off, but it was no use. The pair of them together made it impossible. She just wasn't strong enough.
Ali was afraid, the feeling accentuated when the first man began to roughly peel her jacket away from her shoulders. She squeezed her eyes shut, thinking about the way he'd known her name. She was pretty sure she recognised him too. He'd been sitting at the bar earlier. Dark brown leather jacket. He'd seen Tyler's knife. He knew exactly who she was.
"What do-?"
"Shut up!" the second one hissed, pressing the knife harder against her neck until she was sure he'd drawn blood. Ali's jacket was fully off now, the gravel pressing into her bare arms. The first man pulled at her top and she squeezed her eyes tighter shut. Dread filled her stomach. She wished she'd stayed at Bobby's. She wished Sam and Dean had never left. She wished she hadn't driven them away. Rough hands pressed against her skin, calloused fingers moving over her stomach. She felt bile rise in her throat as she realised there was nothing she could so to stop whatever was happening to her. About to happen. She was powerless. Ali lay frozen as the two men crushed her against the earth.
Her heart was in her ears and she felt her legs tense when the first man's hand wondered to her hips, his palms meeting the fabric of her jeans. For a fleeting moment of terror, Ali thought he was about to undo her zipper. It would be easy for them. It was dark and they were wedged in the narrow gap between two cars. No one could see. But his hands moved further out and she felt fingers slide into her pockets. She frowned.
The first assailant moved his hands down to her legs, his movements methodical. He didn't linger on her thighs like she'd perhaps expected. When he'd arrived at her ankles, the man's hands grasped onto the silver handle that was sticking out of her boot and pulled it out. The blade glinted in the moonlight. He moved to pocket the knife and Ali snapped, her foot coming up to kick him in the face.
She instantly regretted the action when she felt hands back on her, holding her tighter. Squeezing her skin.
"Bitch!" the first man yelled as he held his jaw in one hand.
"Hey!" The shout came from someone new followed by a gun shot. Ali felt the grip release on her shoulders before the knife was removed. Then she was alone, lying on the gravel, utterly shaken and confused. A figure appeared above her and she could see the silhouette of the weapon as he slipped it into the holster at his hip. He stretched a hand out towards her and after a moment, Ali took it, letting him pull her to her feet.
"Are you hurt?" the man asked in a deep voice. Ali wasn't paying much attention to him. Her eyes were darting around the parking lot, searching for the two men who'd jumped her. They were already gone. "Are you hurt?" he pressed again, grabbing her shoulder. Ali flinched away violently.
"No-no I'm fine," she stuttered, running her hands over her arms as if to check if she really was. She looked up, meeting her saviour's eyes for the first time. His face was shadowed by the night but Ali could still make out his features. He was older and unfamiliar. "Thanks." She breathed the word quietly, her chest heaving as adrenaline pumped through her veins. The mysterious man nodded once.
"Did they take anything?" he asked. His tone was straight forward and to the point. He wasn't wasting any time. Ali shook her head, her gaze searching the ground.
"No, I don't think so," she replied, catching sight of her brother's knife on the gravel. She bent down to pick it up, her fingers curling around the intricately engraved handle before she shoved it back in her boot. "Who were they…?" Ali trailed off as she stood up. The man before her had vanished. Across the parking lot she could hear the grumbling of an engine. She peered around the parked cars just in time to see the outline of a motorcycle disappearing into the night. Ali couldn't be sure that it was him on the bike, but she had a feeling.
The blonde teen didn't realise how much she was shaking until she felt the steady hand of Ellen Harvelle on her shoulder. The woman steered her through the corridor to a plain room made up with fresh sheets.
"I think they were looking for something," Ali said, speaking for the first time in a while. Ellen pushed her down into a sitting position on the edge of the bed and began to wipe a wet cloth over the blood that had dribbled down her neck. The cut wasn't deep, but it was enough to make Ellen worried.
"The knife?" Ali looked up to meet Jo's watchful gaze as she leaned against the door frame. There was concern written in her eyes, but most of all curiosity. Ali shook her head.
"I'm not sure," she replied. The way the two men had taken her down and searched her seemed planned. They knew exactly what they were looking for. But Tyler's knife didn't seem worth all the effort. Its value was sentimental more than anything.
"If they ever set foot in my roadhouse again I'll kill both of 'em," Ellen spat. She seemed worked up by the whole situation, perhaps almost as much as Ali was.
"They'll stay away if they know what good for 'em," Jo said. Ali shot her a grateful look.
"What kinda hunters jump a teenage girl out in the parking lot?" the older woman asked under her breath. "I should call Bobby right away."
"Please don't," Ali practically begged. "He'll just worry. I swear, I'll tell him when I see him." Ellen agreed reluctantly. Footsteps in the corridor had Ali's heart racing again, but she relaxed when she saw it was only Ash looking remarkably soberer than he did when she'd seen him last.
"Leather jacket's a regular," he informed the room. "Name's Boris. No sign of him or his buddy outside." Ash stopped for a moment as his eyes fell of the teenager perched on the edge of the bed. She had her duffle bag beside her, jacket loosely over her shoulders and what looked like a Colt 38 Super on her lap. "You sure there were only two of them?" he asked the girl. Her eyes shifted around the room before landing back on him.
"Yeah. One of them followed me out and they jumped me beside my car," she told him.
"Thought I heard a gunshot," he mused. Ali tensed a little, her eyes falling on the weapon in her lap.
"Yeah, I uh, scared them off I guess," she admitted falsely. She wasn't sure why she didn't want to tell them about the man who'd saved her. Perhaps it was because it would make them more worried. Whoever the mysterious man was, Ali knew he didn't want to give his identity away yet, and since he'd helped her, she would do him a favour by keeping him a secret. Besides, whoever her saviour was, she had a feeling they would meet again.
AN: Hello lovelies! So sorry for being completely absent for so long. Been super busy but I'm back now! Yay! I also finished my Teen Wold fic so my focus is fully on this now.
So Sam and Dean are still gone and it looks like there's a bit of Electra aftermath that Ali's going to have to deal with. Also some other shit with some hunters went down and a new mystery guy. Oooh mysterious.
In other news, I read Twist and Shout over the weekend. If anyone has any tips on how I can SEW MY HEART BACK TOGETHER that would be much appreciated. Feel like I need some mega therapy now, but was still a great read.
Also, check out my poll on my profile if you want and I wrote a little one shot about Dean which you can have a look at if you're in need of some Dean... :)
Thanks for reading. You guys are amazing. Let me know what you thought, much love x
