The Seventh of the Month
December 6th, 2004: Age 19
You awoke the next morning after a total of ten minutes of sleep. Between the pain and the nightmares, you were lucky to get that. You looked out front to see that Jo's car was still there, meaning your harsh remarks hadn't driven Jo to do the thing you really thought she was going to. You sighed in relief; glad you weren't going to have to set up a search and rescue. After brushing your teeth and rinsing your face, you figured it was time to apologize. You entered Jo's room to find she was showering down the hall. You figured you would wait her out and send Bobby a quick email on the house computer to at least prepare him for the call he was sure to get from Ellen later this week. You drove the mouse to the logout button on Jo's email when a ping and a name stopped you cold. Gordon Walker. Subject: RE: North Dakota. You didn't dare open it. You sat and stared at the screen for what felt like hours. Jo was in contact with him. You listened for a second to make sure the shower was still running before you ran back to Jo's room and practically threw her bedside drawer open. Ripping out the false bottom, you grabbed her journal and skimmed it, looking for that name. What you found ran your blood cold. "I wish Gordon was around more... although who I am kidding, he's the LAST person my Mom would ever let me go out with!" The journal gave away everything. He used her as bait and she actually respected him for it. Even grew to care romantically for him. She knew the monster he was and still made excuses. Your head pounded as it tried to comprehend the rage and the fear. If there was a level of negative respect for someone, you had just hit it with Jo. As if on cue, she entered her room, surprised to see you on her bed. You stared intently at her.
"Why are you talking to Gordon Walker?"
"Y/N what the hell? That's my private journal! Give it back!" You slammed it shut and thrust it at her. You had seen enough anyway. "Answer the question Jo."
"It's none of your business." She clenched the journal to her chest and you saw what you feared. "Oh Jo…"
"What?"
"Don't tell me you're stupid enough to have feelings for him. He used you as bait!"
"You've never even met him! Don't listen to everything my mom tells you, she's just overprotective! And stay out of my business!"
"This isn't about privacy this is about safety."
"Well my safety is not your concern! I can take care of myself!"
And there it was.
You stood and walked towards the door, pausing to turn around. "Jo…please. Stay away from Gordon Walker." She lifted her arm in response, pointing for you to leave her room. You walked out shaking your head.
December 7th, 2004: Age 20
You awoke to a quiet household, managing a whole three hours of sleep the previous night. After performing the morning routine, you walked into the bar area only to have a minor heart attack. There was a group of hunters, Ellen, Ash, and Jo gathered around a table with a cake on it that read Happy 20th Y/N! Your heart felt full as twenty candles were lit and your surrogate mother with a group of strangers sang (horribly and drunkenly) the traditional birthday song. You smiled and blew out your candles.
After mingling and receiving small gifts from Ellen and Ash you sat with a beer at the bar. A hand on your shoulder interrupted your reminiscing about the day. It was one of the strangers who happened to stop at Harvell's on the day of a party. "Hey, just wanted to say Happy Birthday. I'm gonna take off. Already paid my tab." You thanked him and nodded, expecting him to leave. He did just that, but not before placing a small rectangular piece of paper in front of you. You looked back to find him, but he was gone. Picking up the paper, you realized it was a post card. You checked the back to see where from…
Murrieta, California
December 7th, 2004
Y/N,
Happy Birthday!
I truly wish you many more.
Make sure to celebrate today.
P.S.
Warning Joanna,
Not a great idea…
G.W.
You felt your skin go cold and your heart stop. Every 'well-meaning' sentence seemed like a threat. You shoved the post card in your jacket and scanned the sea of people for a naïve blonde. Once located, you grabbed her arm and dragged her outside. "What the hell!?"
"What did you tell Gordon?"
"What?"
"What did you tell him!?"
"Ow Y/N! Jesus I just told him you freaked on me yesterday, what's the big deal?" You paused, both hands squeezing Jo's shoulders. Gordon had a man deliver the post card to you at the roadhouse. He had eyes everywhere. You immediately let go of Jo. "Nothing. Forget it." You walked back inside leaving Jo in the dust. It was closing time for the bar and Ellen and Ash were cleaning up. "You head onto bed hon', we got this. Happy birthday." You plastered a fake smile and said your goodnight. But you had no plans to sleep. You closed your door and instantly began packing. You made up your mind. From now on, you would think out every move you made, feel only what was necessary for the situation, and trust only those who earned it; maximum efficiency. It was the only way to survive with Gordon Walker on your tail. You waited until everyone had gone to bed and left a bull crap note on your bed explaining how you needed your independence but would still keep in touch. Once you heard Ash's harsh snores, you left, not having returned to the Roadhouse since.
November 15th, 2007: Age 22
Your right hand shook as it brushed over the scar left from Gordon's knife and the beer bottle. You looked at yourself in the mirror and repeated the phrase in your head. Gordon Walker is dead. You saw the face of a scared little girl look back at you and that pissed you off. Clenching your hand into a fist, you punched the mirror, cracking the glass and making your knuckles bleed. You threw open the bathroom door and marched up to your room. Finding the third floorboard from the south wall and lifting it, you revealed the 35 postcards from Murrieta, California. You lifted them and sifted through the stack, the G.W.s that once sent chills down your spine now seemed like small challenges. You squeezed the stack of postcards, grabbing a metal bucket and a pack of matches. Taking the items out back and dumping them into the bucket, you lit a single match and dropped it in, destroying nearly three years of utter misery. As the flames lifted, so did the burden of Gordon Walker. You were finally free…
Murrieta, California
January 7th, 2005
Y/N,
Still Watching.
Murrieta, California
May 7th, 2005
Y/N,
Another vamp off the map.
Good job.
Murrieta, California
June 7th, 2006
Y/N,
Close call with that last case don't we think?
Murrieta, California
September 7th, 2006
Y/N,
That was cold…
Murrieta, California
October 7th, 2007
Y/N,
Say hello to Dean Winchester for me.
Murrieta, California
November 7th, 2007
Y/N,
Congrats on the Gorgon