Chapter 3
"I'll be damned, it's little Alex," Dean spoke up first since finding out it was her.
"Let's cut the little Alex crap, ok?" she said. "I'm not little anymore. In fact, I'm now 23."
"You're most certainly not a little," Sam said, his eyes fixed upon her. "You look good…" he smiled.
"So do you, Sam," she smiled back.
Sam stepped closer to her and pulled her to him for a hug. He was much taller than she ever imagined. He towered over her from only being 5'4.
"You're tall," she said against him.
"What?" Sam asked not quite understanding her, he stepped back and looked down at her.
"I said you're tall."
"Yeah, he grew like a weed," Dean said now standing next to them while clasping a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Good thing he stopped growin' otherwise he'd make so many people feel like ants."
Alex chuckled. "Ants is one way of putting it. 'Cause I sure feel like one right about now standing next to both of you."
Sam laughed. "I'd feel like one too if I was standing next to someone who is in the six-feet range."
"How about we get to the motel and hang out and catch up on life?" Dean asked.
"Sure," Sam agreed.
"You up for a night of hangin' out with two of your old friends, shorty?" Dean asked her.
"Dean?"
"Yes?"
"Let's get one thing straight…" she locked eyes with him. "Never call me shorty again, or else you'll be lying on the ground in pain. Do you understand?"
"Ok."
"Say I understand, Dean."
"I understand."
"Good. Now we can go."
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"Oh, you're gross!" Alex said to Dean when he opened his mouth full of chewed up burger.
Dean swallowed the food before grinning. "That's what you get for calling me an idiot earlier. I'm far from being an idiot."
"I'll believe that when I see otherwise," she said with a wink.
Sam chuckled, not saying anything.
"Aren't you gonna stick up for your big brother, or what, Sammy?" Dean asked now looking at Sam who's sitting on one of the two beds in their motel room.
"No."
"And why not?"
"'Cause you called me Sammy."
Alex laughed. "That's just too funny."
"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Dean said rolling his eyes. "Both of you suck, you know that?"
"If we suck, then so do you," Alex said with a grin.
"Whatever," Dean took another bite from his burger.
"Alex?"
"Yes, Sam?"
"How did you get into hunting?"
She nodded, expecting that question. "I figured one of you would ask…."
Thirteen year old Alex opened her bedroom room lightly, peering out, looking for any sign of her father being home. When it was clear, she stepped out of her room and down the hallway holding her small black bag that held a couple of things she needed.
Once outside, she ran down the dirt pathway into the woods towards an old cabin that nobody had used in years. When she reached it, she went inside and into the living room area, setting her bag down on the dusty floor, she unzipped it and pulled out her throwing knife.
She fixed her eyes upon the wall that had over hundred holes from the tip of the knife sticking in it. Taking a deep breath, she lifted up her right arm, knife in hand and drew back her arm before bringing it forward quickly, letting go of the knife in the progress. The knife hit the wall with a loud jabbing sound, getting stuck into the wall, making a brand new hole.
Nodding in satisfaction of how well she could throw, compared to when she first started, she made her way to the wall and retrieved her weapon. She threw the knife a couple more times before moving onto another weapon; her pistol she stole from her father's collection. Nobody would hear the sound from being so far away from neighbors, so she could shoot it off without causing attention. She would always have to put it back in the gun cabinet before her father came home from work, for him to realize it was missing.
"…I started to teach myself once I was old enough. A friend of mine knew a few things, and he would teach me how to fight and learn to use a gun, until he moved away. I finished my lessons, and before I knew it, I was fully trained. I've learned to throw knives, use guns, fighting, everything a person would need to know to start this kind of life," she told him.
"But why would you want this life?" Sam asked. "Nobody would want this life, Alex."
"I want it. Sam, I wanted to do it because I want to save lives. I want travel the country and fight the bad things that could hurt those you know, or may have never met."
"What started you to do this?" Dean asked.
Alex lowered her eyes to the floor, not meeting either of their gazes…
"Dad, I'm home!" sixteen year old Alex called out, walking into her house, setting her school bag down on the kitchen floor. "Dad?" she pulled off her jacket while she walked down the hallway and to her dad's bedroom. Pushing the door further open, she noticed how dark it was in the room. "Did you fall asleep?" she asked stepping inside, glancing around the room before her eyes fell upon the bed. Something caught her attention on the white quilt. Raising an eyebrow, she walked toward the bed and looked at the stain on the cover she knew wasn't there that morning. Staring at the stain, she soon realized it was blood. "What the…"
Her attention went from the existing stain to another one that wasn't there a few second ago. "What?" she leaned down, reaching out to the second spot of blood, becoming more confused. Her eyes drifted from the bed to her shoulder when she felt something drip onto her. She looked up and gasped. Her father was pinned to the ceiling, a cut across his chest, his eyes unfocused, and his mouth gapped open slightly in an O shape. "No!" she screamed, falling backwards onto the bed. "Dad!" His body erupted into flames, the heat feeling warm to her skin. "NO, DAD!" she yelled, fear in her voice, and her eyes wide with shock. She felt like she couldn't move.
The flames began covering the rest of the ceiling before reaching the rest of the room on fire. She knew she had to leave, knowing there was no way to save her dad's life without risking her own. Jumping to her feet, she ran out of the room and to her own, grabbing her bag, and a few clothes and other belongings before running out of the house.
She ran halfway down the parking lot before she turned around to face her house again. The smoke was now going out the opened windows and fireplace. Her home was being destroyed, along with her father's life being taken away from him.
"I'm sorry I couldn't save you, dad. I love you…" she whispered as a single tear rolled down her cheek. Turning away from the only home she ever knew, she walked down the driveway, starting a new life she would know from now on; a hunter. The hunter who would find the thing that killed both her parents.
"I'm sorry, Alex…" Sam whispered. "I wish you didn't have to go through that."
"Well I do," she said while she blinked, keeping the tears that welled up, from falling. "This is all I have known to do since leaving. On top of that, I've heard I was a suspect of my dad's death. Me, can you believe it? The cops back home think I started the fire before taking off. They think I killed my father and hid his body somewhere when they couldn't, and still haven't found him."
"How do you know all this?" Dean wondered.
"I have a friend in the police force."
"And you trust this friend of yours? Are you sure this fr—"
"Sam, I know he wouldn't sell me out like that. I have known him for years. After I told him what I saw, he eventually realized I was being serious. He agreed to help me and to keep things to himself."
"So, let me get this straight. You told this guy what happened, and possibly what you do, and he believes you?" Dean asked, slight surprised by this.
"He does. Hell, he's been on a few hunts with me. So yeah, he's a believer."
"You brought an untrained person to a hunt? Are you nuts?" Sam asked, looking serious. "Alex, you should know not to let someone come with you. If they die because you let them come, then you will be wanted for murder because they'll connect his death right to you knowing you were a close friend."
"I'm careful. He's careful, Sam," she said meeting his gaze.
"I don't care how careful you are. It's a stupid move on your part. Don't do it again, Alex."
Alex's jaw tightened, and her eyes narrowed at him a bit. "Nobody tells me what to do, got it? You don't tell me what I can't do, Winchester. I take orders from no one, especially someone who I haven't seen in years," she said standing up from her seat.
"I run my life, not you," she added before leaving, not allowing either of them to say another word.