I do not own Supernatural.

And just a warning, I am from Australia so forgive me if I get any of the towns or geography wrong. I do not think that there is a river near St George, but I made a deal with Crowley just to make it so for this :p
If it upsets any one too much, just let me know.

Be sure to welcome strangers into your home. By doing this, some people have welcomed angels as guests, without even knowing it.

Hebrews 13:2

To Micah, it was almost the perfect day.
The sun was bright and sharing its gentle warmth, a soft breeze offering a reminder of coldness but not enough to disrupt the unspoiled weather. Both people and nature were taking advantage of today, active and lively.
The only problem was, there was one thing that should not be enjoying this day.

As Micah stood up from the body in front of her, the rich blood pooling on the brown earth, she knew that the creature that cause this was still nearby and drew out her gun.

Three days ago Micah had arrived in the small town of St George, Kansas to inspect a possible hunt. Yes, she was a Hunter, but not one that collected and stuffed animals. No, she hunted the things that people would only imagine in dreams and what children feared in the dark.

Her whole life she had been raised and taught as a hunter, both her parents having been killed by a demon. Only her cousin took her in as a child, and decided that it would not benefit either of them if he kept what he did and what was really out there a secret. So until she was twenty she remained by his side, hunting and saving people. For four years now she had been on her own, surviving and hunting even through the apocalypse and whatever else had gone by.

The only thing was; everything was changing.
It was harder now to figure out what she was dealing with, how to track it and destroy it. Where-wolves at half-moons and Lamias in Texas.
But if they could adapt, so could the hunters.

The ground was hard under her feet as she moved quickly into the trees after the creature. The tall trees shielded her eyes from the sun as she studied every feature before her as she moved, her gun braced in front of her. Leaning back against a tree when there was a sudden movement, Micah blew her blonde hair from her face; cursing at the decision to leave it loose.

A series of linked murders had been suspicious in the paper; all friends, guys and girls and all died in similar ways. Home alone at night, no forced entry, everything locked except one window, necks snapped and throats ripped out.
At least it was easy to know that she was not dealing with a spirit or demon, it was something physical. A quick trip to the graveyard had given Micah all the clues she needed.

A hand knocked her gun but she kept her grip and with a curse Micah spun around, shooting at the figure.

The girl paused in her attack, staring down at the bullet holes in her chest and stomach. But she didn't collapse, instead she snarled and ran.
'Bloody Zombies.' Micah hissed before she leapt onto her feet, taking off after it. Trees were flying past Micah as she let her legs run, her pale green eyes sharp to keep a lock on the girl.

Micah had done her homework on the girl; Katie Murrow, twenty six and murdered by her ex-husband two years ago who later committed suicide. But as to why she was now up and running around Micah had not found that out just yet. There were no connections what so ever between her and the murdered teenagers.
All Micah wanted to do was catch her, shoot her or break her legs or something to stop her from moving so she could nail her back into her coffin.

The trees broke away to a clearing, the Kansas River flowing gently before her.
Panting for breath, Micah kept her gun steady as she scanned the area. She knew Katie couldn't be too far, Micah was too good to lose her target in a chase.
It was almost silent except for the wild life that was going on around her and the water lapping softly against to shore line.
Where the hell did she go? Micah didn't know that zombies could swim so it meant that-

Movement behind her made Micah spin around but she was too slow.

The body crashed into hers, sending her to the ground. Struggling with the woman atop her, Micah growled as the gun slipped from her hands to the moist soil by the water. Receiving a sharp blow to the face, Micah kept her eyes focused on Katie; her pasty skin and filthy dark hair as she snapped and hissed in her attempt to hurt Micah. Bringing her leg up, Micah kicked the being off her, scrambling for her gun. On her knees she took aim as Katie leapt back at her, only to receive a bullet to the forehead. She fell back, lying still and Micah didn't stop to take a breather. Keeping aim, she was about to fire again when Katie kicked her feet out from under her, sending Micah to the ground again as she sprinted back into the trees.

Finally taking the time to catch her breath, Micah sighed and ran a hand down her face, trying to think of her next move.
Sitting up, she dusted off her now disgusting black shirt and denim jeans, gathering her hair and pulling it over her shoulder. Rubbing dirt from her eyes, Micah looked for her gun but a figure on the bank made her freeze.

It was not moving, the water resting over the lower body.

Cautiously Micah gathered her gun, taking aim in case it was another zombie or something that she didn't like, but then again, it could be another victim of zombie Katie. Crouching down beside the man, Micah gripped his shoulder, trying to wake him but he didn't move. Face up, he was breathing ever so faintly, weak enough to make Micah worry.
Should she call the hospital or take him there?

After staring at his face, trying to figure out who he was and why he was here, Micah locked her gun and tucked it into the back of her jeans, hooking her hands under the man's arms to haul him onto the land.
Still he made no sound or movement and Micah feared the worst.
Lifting him slightly, she slung his arm over her shoulder and carried his weight, marching slowly back to her car. Normally she would leave any person she found that had no link to what she was doing, just call the police or alert somebody, but there was something about this man; something she could not put her finger on.

Whoever he was, Micah was not going to let him die on her watch.

The motel manager was watching her wearily when Micah had helped the man into her motel room, Micah just laughing it off as her friend having too much to drink.

She was just grateful that her small crappy room was just large enough for her to comfortably lower the man onto the single bed. Micah had contemplated wether to just drop him at the hospital or something but she had found him, and she had always been a sucker for lost puppies. As she drew the blinds shut and locked the door tightly, Micah stood over the injured man.

He was covered in old blood, most of it washed away by the river but it was still evident in his wounds and clothing. Carefully she set about undoing his tie, tossing it into the corner before it was followed by his business jacket, shoes and socks.
Dressed like a tax account it. Micah chuckled lightly to herself but was nervous when the man groaned in pain. Pressing her hand to his forehead, she could feel its heat even without touching it.

Ripping off his clothes, Micah left him in his plain boxers before she wrapped him in blankets, trying to warm him.
Micah had to admit that she was uncomfortable having an almost naked stranger in her room, but again the feeling flipped in her stomach and she set about dressing his wounds. Even though he was badly hurt and sick, Micah could not understand why he was not waking up or at least moving and making sounds.

What had happened to him?

It was only after a cold meal, hot shower, five cups of black coffee and a stack of research that Micah heard a voice. Instantly her hand gripped the shot gun beside her, eyes seeking out the intruder but it all vanished when they fell on her guest.
Getting to her feet quickly, Micah shivered as the cool air traced her skin and stood over the bed. She had prepared a couple of aspirin and a glass of water in case he was in pain but his eyes were tightly shut. He had barely moved but now his head was tossing about on the pillow, face scrunched as though he were in pain.
Concerned, Micah shook his shoulder slightly, studying his dark messy brown hair and strong jaw to his plump lips.

'Forgive…'

Micah raised an eyebrow as he spoke, becoming more concerned as his body thrashed, heaving in breaths before he stilled, sighing a long breath before he calmed.

'Father,'

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Micah gently applied a weak cloth to his face, wiping away the now clean cuts on his face and neck.
This poor man, trapped in his own thoughts as his dreams tormented him.
Micah knew how painful memories could be when wounded, everything seemed that much more intense, that much more real.

Yawning, Micah made one last round to check that everything was secure; just because she had a wounded man with her did not mean that she had forgotten about the thing out there that would probably kill her any chance it got.
Slipping off her jacket and into a loose shirt, Micah grabbed a spare blanket and lay on the couch, groaning as a spring dug into her side. With one last look at the man on the bed, Micah turned off the light and tightened her grip on her gun before she fell into a light sleep.

Tomorrow was going to be a long day.

Let me know what you think

Silver-Kirin
xXx