Her eyes fluttered open at the sounds of low voices, only to have her nose bombarded with the smell of wood smoke and male musk. Her eyes burned like fire, her side hurt like she'd been impaled and her head pounded like a shoemaker on a wooden heel. She tried to keep her eyes open long enough for her to take in her surroundings, rubbing at her face with her good arm. She tried to sit up, only to have a searing pain in her side push her back to whatever she was laying on. Biting her wrist and groaning, she opened her eyes to see three men staring down at her.
She yelped and fell to the floor in her haste to get away from them, only to have her side protest with vehemency. She growled at the musty carpet and hit it with her fist, swearing and cursing her rotten luck. She flipped around, trying her best not to aggravate her side, and glared up at the three men who's jaws were on the floor. One of them cleared his throat and she looked up at him, her glare never faltering. She noticed how he towered over the other two men, his long brown hair hanging in his face.
She blushed when she realized how handsome he was, and her glare grew even harder in anger at herself. She wasn't allowed to think her captors were handsome. She watched as the tall man held out a hand and moved her gaze to his perfect mouth when he asked, "are you alright?" She brought her gaze back to his eyes, but gave no answer. He knelt beside her, and she scooted away as fast as her wounded side would allow. He seemed saddened by the movement, but she didn't stop until she felt something against her back.
She turned her head slightly, only to see a large cabinet behind her, preventing her from going any further and a window through which she could see stars in a dark sky. How long had she been out? The tall man spoke again, "I know, you must be scared, but you may rip out your stitches. You need to stay as still as possible so they don't come out."
Stitches? The girl looked down at her still stained shirt, only to find fresh blood staining what appeared to be bandages. She grimaced and growled down at her stomach, frustrated that she'd been injured. She glared up at the tall man again and spat the first thing that came to mind, "where the hell am I?!"
Suddenly, another of the three men spoke, this time the shortest. He seemed to be older than the tall man, but younger than the third man. "She speaks," he said, a sarcastic smirk on his face.
The tall man rolled his eyes and returned his gaze to her face. "You're in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. This is Bobby Singer's house." He pointed to the third and oldest man. The older man gave her a small smile and she felt slightly calmer, but only slightly. He seemed vaguely familiar to the girl. Then she remembered that he was the one who'd shot... that monster.
"Ohkey... Now what the fuck am I doing here?!" Her eyes darted from one man to the next. She felt tears begin to prick at her eyes, but she blinked them back.
The shortest man laughed. "She's got a mouth on her!" he said. "I like that." The girl glared at him.
"A mouth that's big enough fer the both of us, smart ass! So how'a 'bout yah keep yer trap shut, or I'll shove my foot so far up yer ass it'll come out yer nose!" The man named Bobby and the tall man stared at her and then looked to the shortest man, who seemed to be gasping for air.
"She sure told you, Dean!" the tall man said, smirking at the shortest man. The man named Bobby chuckled and called the shortest man, Dean, something under his breath.
"Fine! I guess I'm not wanted here!" The man named Dean then stomped from the room and into what the girl assumed was a hallway. The girl focused her attention back on the other two men. The tall one held out his hand again.
"I'm Sam Winchester," he said, smiling gently. The girl eyed his hand warily, but didn't take it.
Instead, she brushed some of the hair from her face and said, "Vivian Lehtonen." Sam grinned at her, making her insides flutter slightly; he was very handsome.
"Well, that's a start," he said, sitting back on his heels. "Now, as for why you're here... You were hurt-"
Vivian scoffed, "noh shit Sherlock! I'm only bleedin' all over yer moldy carpet!"
"-And we had supplies to help you out," Sam continued. He gave her a small smile and she almost returned, but then he turned serious. "Yes... but you were attacked by something... something unnatural."
The girl scoffed. "Unnatural?" she said, her gaze condescending. "What the hell do yah mean by that?" Sam flinched at her sarcasm. "Of course it was 'unnatural,' it was a fucking werewolf for Christ's sake!"
Bobby and Sam looked at each other in shock. Bobby put his hands on the back of the couch and stared down at the fabric, "You mean to tell us that you... Are a Hunter?"
Vivian inspected the nails on her right hand, "is it that obvious?" A small, sarcastic smile turned up her lips. Sam shook his head.
"You're a Hunter?"
"Yah, what of it? You three obviously are, too." Vivian looked down at her hand and found a thin cut on her pointer finger. "Yah clearly checked me with silver, and I'm guessin' yah cleaned my wounds with holy water."
Sam gave Bobby an incredulous look. "Uh, yeah, we did, I hope you're not mad or anything."
"Me? Mad? I'm a Hunter, not an idiot! I'd have done the same thing, twice over."
Bobby gave Sam a shrug. "At least she's smart." Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to her.
"So do you remember the attack?" Sam watched as she inspected her bandages.
Vivian laughed, humorlessly. "Of course I do," she said. "Every second." A scowl twisted her features. "Fucking piece ah shit killed Angie." She sighed and picked at her jeans.
Sam grimaced, "I'm sorry for your loss."
Vivian snorted, "Angie was just a means to an end, she would ah died anyway, in her line ah work." At Sam's confused look she said, "Angie was a Source."
Bobby came to his rescue. "A source is a civilian that keeps an eye out for anything strange going on," he replied. "They let local Hunters know what's up and help them gather information. Sources rarely hunt, if they hunt at all, even though they know every trick of the trade and then some."
Bobby traded a look with Vivian. "Sources are constantly in danger, because of all the things they know, and are often killed by demons because they're mistaken for prophets."
"But this source, Angie? She was killed by a werewolf, wasn't she?"
Vivian smirked. "She was, but she was on a hunt with me, that's why." Vivian took a breath. "She came with me because this was a two person job, and I was alone. She offered her services and ended up killed... Fucking bitch got her chest ripped open."
"Damn... I'm so sorry." Sam swallowed thickly.
Vivian inspected her nails for blood and chipped away at her nail polish, completely nonchalant. "Like I said, she was ah means to an end. The werewolf is dead so I see no point in mournin' for her, she died in the only honorable way; on the job." Bobby nodded, though Sam was flabbergasted.
He shook his head in disbelief as Vivian stood, grimacing. "Now, if you two," she turned her head to yell into the hall. "And Hot Mess in there, don't mind, I'd like to know what I have tah do tah get some food around here!"
Sam tried to help her to the kitchen, but she waved him away. "I've had worse," she said, smirking at his mothering nature. Satisfied she wasn't going to fall over but still apprehensive, he walked behind her, making sure she didn't fall. Sam felt she should be resting, but he also sensed she was independent and tougher than she looked. Plus, he hadn't felt this attracted to a woman since... Well, a long time ago.
Vivian smirked as she stepped into the kitchen. Dean was sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a beer and eating what looked to be a brown, greasy mass. She assumed it was his idea of a burger, but whatever it was it smelled delicious. She licked her lips and sat down at the table, followed by Bobby.
Sam opened the fridge, "we don't have much at the moment, but we do have things for burgers, as well as stuff for sandwiches." He paused, closing the fridge and turning to the cabinets. "We also have canned soup and ravioli."
Vivian thought for a minute. "I'll take a burger thanks." She winked at Dean, "Hot Mess over here seems tah be enjoying his." Dean swallowed, a scowl twisting his features.
"'Hot Mess'?" he asked. Vivian grinned, her smile widening when Sam and Bobby started to chuckle. Dean turned to his brother. "Shut up, Sam!"
That just made Sam and Bobby laugh harder. Even Vivian couldn't help the giggle that bubbled up in her throat. Dean pushed away from the table and took care of his dishes, draining his beer before grabbing another and leaving the kitchen. "Oh, come on, I was just pokin' fun!" Vivian chuckled as Sam set her burger down in front of her.
Once done with dinner, which she'd found quite appetizing, she felt the need to shower and change clothes. Vivian turned to the two remaining men. "Where'd you boys stash my stuff? I need a shower in the worst way." Bobby nodded to Sam, who disappeared for a second and returned with her bag and her shotgun.
Making sure everything was still in her bag, she checked that her gun was clean and loaded before following Sam up the stairs. He stopped in front of a small room, complete with a bed and bedside table. "You can sleep here. Dean and I are down this hall." He pointed in the opposite direction of the stairs. "I'm on the right, and Dean's on the left. Bathroom is right across the hall." He smiled and left, leaving Vivian to get clean and settled.
Sighing, Vivian set her bag on the bed and rummaged through it, pulling out a white tank-top and a pair of light blue boy-shorts. Grabbing her shotgun from the bedside table, she picked up her toiletries and made her way across the hall.
Pushing open the door, she was surprised to see a relatively clean bathroom. Vivian had lived with guys before, but those were all stoners and drunks. She supposed being hunters is what made these men so clean. She had to admit, cleanliness was a big turn-on, not that she should be thinking about those sorts of things.
Shaking her head at herself, she closed the door and began undressing, tossing her dirty things into a pile and being mindful of her stitches. Soon, she felt the hot spray of the shower run over her skin and for the first time in what she felt was forever, she began to relax.
Sam, Dean and Bobby were in the kitchen when they heard the water running. Bobby turned to the two boys. "I'm gonna make a few calls. See if she's legit." The boys nodded and Dean walked to the fridge, pulling out a couple beers.
Handing one to his brother, he said, "I haven't seen a female hunter that young since Jo." Sam nodded.
"It's kinda strange, don't you think?"
"Strange?"
"Yeah, I mean she doesn't know who we are and we haven't heard anything about her from anyone else. I mean, she says she's a hunter but.."
"You think she's hiding something?"
Sam scoffed. "We're hunters, we've all got something to hide." He swirled his beer, looking at the floor. "I just get the feeling there's more we should know."
"Well, Sam, if you think about it, there are hundreds of hunters out there, and we only know a select few. I'm thinking we should believe her, at least for now." Dean shrugged, "but if you want to keep an eye on her, that's your problem... Though me?" Dean chuckled and gave his brother a suggestive grin. "I'm gonna keep two eyes on that ass!"
Sam rolled his eyes before tossing his empty bottle into the trash. "Well, I'm headed to bed." He strode to the stairs, calling a goodnight to Bobby before taking the stairs two at a time. Upon hearing the shower still running, he decided he could take a shower tomorrow morning instead.