The alcohol he kept in his bag finally had a better purpose than getting him hammered alone. Jess winced as he wiped the wound down with a whiskey soaked towel on the edge of the motel bathtub. It seemed useless to clean the gash in the same room he was pretty sure a family of rodents lived in. The cashier at the gas station was a guy barely in his twenties who couldn't be bothered to look up from his phone long enough to notice that Jess handed him a wad of blood stained bills to pay for the gauze. Jess knew he should have just found a drug store, or by the severity of the gash in his side or the bite on his shoulder, a hospital, but he was too shell shocked from what happened.

He had gone home with a girl like he had done a hundred times before. He was the type of guy women were warned to look out for, lest they end up on an episode of Dateline. He was a drifter, he came and went out of towns in the span of a week on his motorcycle. Of course, he knew he wasn't dangerous, but he also thought he would never have anything more than a jealous husband to fear. He never thought he had to worry about the girl jumping on him and tearing into him with her teeth like a wild animal. And not in the way that he liked.

The gash on his side wasn't even from the crazed girl. That came from the man who saved Jess from getting his throat ripped out. It all happened so fast Jess didn't even realize he had left the girl's apartment until he was on his bike and bolting off with blood staining his pants and what was left of his shirt. He remembered the man busting the door down, swinging an axe and telling Jess to get down. The gash came when the man swung and missed, catching Jess' stomach instead of the girl's head like he was aiming for.

Jess couldn't see the bite mark on his shoulder, but he could feel that the bandage was already soaked through with blood. He peeled the soiled gauze off, throwing it into the trash can by the toilet. He would have to remember to leave a big tip for the maid.

"Let me in!"

Jess toppled back into the empty bathtub in surprise, cursing as his head slammed against the tiled wall. For a split second, he was afraid the crazed girl had managed to find him to try and finish the job, but he realized it was a man's voice. The man with the axe. He wasn't sure that was better.

The man pounded on the door. Jess hauled himself up, grabbing the toilet to keep steady as he held his bloodied side. "Come on, man, I can help." Jess was sure he would regret opening the door to a stranger who had cut him open not an hour ago, but he also knew he didn't have many options if he didn't want to bleed out.

Jess was greeted with a knife pressed against his throat. He would have rolled his eyes at his own stupid decision if he had the energy. He stared the man down. He had wild intensity behind his dark eyes, but he didn't seem crazy.

"She bit you?" The man asked.

Jess nodded, feeling the knife rub dangerously close but never cutting him. The man knew what he was doing, clearly. The missed swing was a mistake Jess was sure the man wouldn't normally make.

"Did you drink her blood?"

"Do I look like a vampire to you?" Jess asked sarcastically.

The man looked him up and down. He pulled his knife away, stepping into the motel room. "You dress like one," He said. "But you would've healed by now if you were a vampire." He nodded to Jess' side.

"By now? You hit me with an axe," Jess said.

"I saved your life," The man said. "That vamp bitch was going to make you her snack pack. You're a good looking guy, you couldn't have found a girl a little less, I don't know, blood sucking?"

"You're insane," Jess said, taking a step back. He knew he lost a lot of blood, but Jess wasn't sure the man's help would be worth it.

"You've seen movies, I'm sure you know the basics." The man ignored Jess' apprehension. He pushed Jess rather gently into the armchair by the bed. The man pulled his own first aid kit from his bag. "Fangs, nocturnal, that's all true. You're lucky she was just hungry. If she turned you, you'd be just as dead she is now."

"You're talking about vampires," Jess said, mostly to try to remind himself of where this conversation was going. "You're insane," He repeated.

"A lady just took a chunk out of you and you think I'm crazy?" The man's bag had better supplies than Jess had found at the gas station, a suturing kit and real bandages.

"She's insane too."

"You've got a lot to learn," The man said. "If you're gonna go around letting yourself be an easy target for vamps, you've gotta at least know how to defend yourself, kid."

"Don't call me kid," Jess said. The man chuckled as he cleaned Jess' gash with proper rubbing alcohol.

"What's your name then?"

"Jess."

"Nice to meet you, Jess," the man said. "I'm Gordon."

"Watch where you're pointing that thing, Paul Bunyan," Jess said, staring at the gun that Sam still had angled at him from where he sat on the bed. Jess still managed to look aloof in the armchair even covered in blood from the vamp.

"You better start talking," Sam said, leaning forward.

"The way I see it, Forester, you have just as much explaining to do," Jess said. He may have been shocked to see the brothers in the barn, but that quickly faded to anger and annoyance at being manhandled by them. "How's a guy like you know about vampires? Aren't you just a small town mechanic?"

Dean snorted from behind Sam, despite the seriousness of the situation. It seemed like the lies Sam told had no end. Sam shot him a quick look.

"There's a lot you don't know about me," Sam said. "But that's not what we're talking about. How long have you been a hunter?"

Jess scoffed, rolling his eyes and shaking his head. "Please, I don't do pick ups and orange vests."

"Hunting, slaying, who cares what you call it, Sarah Michelle," Dean said, his arms crossed. "Why were you killing a vamp in the barn?"

"Would you rather me let it run around killing everyone?" Jess asked.

"Cut the shit, Jess," Sam said, holding the gun with a bit more purpose than before. "How do you know how to kill a vampire?"

"Why do you?" Sam knew arguing wouldn't solve anything with Jess. He moved the gun from Jess' chest to his groin, raising his eyebrows with threatening question. Jess' jaw tightened but he relented. "I've been doing it for about seven years. Killed around a hundred."

"Just decided to pick up a hatchet and start decapitating?" Dean asked. Jess rolled his eyes again, pulling the collar of his blood stained t shirt down, showing his bare shoulder. Dean and Sam leaned in to look at the four ragged scars on his skin.

"You were attacked by a vamp," Dean said.

Jess righted his shirt and leaned back in the chair. "Would've been dinner, but a guy busted up the place and saved me. I spent about a month traveling with him before I went out on my own."

"So you are a hunter," Sam said.

"If that's what you want to call it," Jess shrugged. "Your turn."

Sam sighed, finally putting the gun down on the bed next to him. "Since I was a kid, we were raised hunters."

"Good old Randy taught you to ice vampires?" Jess asked, eyebrows raised.

Sam felt his chest tighten. This was much more complicated than he ever wanted this situation to get. "Just tell him," Dean said, as if reading his mind. Sam looked up at his brother. He knew Dean had no problem with lying; it was a main part of their job. But there was no use lying to someone if they were going to be of any use to them, as much as Sam hated to admit that they could use Jess' help.

"May and Randy weren't my parents. I'm not a mechanic, I'm a hunter. This is…," Sam looked at Dean again, hoping there would be an easier way to explain this and it would come to him in the next .5 seconds. Dean nodded. "This is my brother, Dean. My name is Sam."

Jess' eyes went wide with recognition, standing up from the chair. Sam picked up the gun again in defense. "Sam and Dean? Winchester?"

"Clearly you've heard of us," Dean said.

"You bastards killed Gordon Walker."