Chapter 1: Homecoming

Authors Note: This book will contain coarse language and darker themes. Please proceed with caution.

ACT 1

Alex Donovan hasn't had the best week.

First, there was the wraith case that she had happened to stumble across that had put her plans of returning home on hold. Not wanting to leave the occupants of a nursing home entirely defenceless against the brain-sucking monster, she had promptly checked herself in as an aid to deal with the problem from the inside. Three days of trying to discretely figure out who exactly this beast was impersonating had been hard enough without the nurses and security team breathing down her neck, and being interrogated by the head nurse about her more than questionable 'qualification papers' wasn't exactly what you would call a nice bonus.

She had managed to discover which other nurse had been the wraith and she had dealt with it promptly, but the bastard hadn't gone down without a fight. It had tried to use its spike to drain her brain fluids out, but she had jerked out of its grasp at the last second and got a long, nasty cut on the side of her neck instead. She would be lying if she said that she didn't feel even an inkling of satisfaction when she drove her silver blade through its heart in the end.

Then there was the problem of getting out of the said nursing ward. It wouldn't have been a problem if someone hadn't seen her standing over the body of the wraith. Granted, it was one of the elderly patients that suffer from dementia, but Alex hadn't wanted to risk it. Getting rid of the body and hightailing it out of there before the patient could raise the alarm had seemed like a good idea at the time and had paid off rather well. She had managed to swiftly grab her belongings that she had left in the motel room days prior, and had taken off into the night. Knowing that there was a chance that the nursing home could send the authorities after her if they believed the words of the elderly man that had seen her commit the crime, she had stopped for nothing.

She hadn't even had the chance to have a shower. The blood that had oozed from the cut caused by the wraith's blood had quickly dried and stained both her skin and the top of her shirt, and every time she inhales, she can taste copper in the back of the throat from the rusty smell. Wanting nothing more than to grab a drink once she was five towns clear from the one where she had dealt with the wraith, she had simply thrown on her large hoodie to conceal the sight and smell of the dark liquid before finding the nearest bar.

And now here she is, getting caught right in the middle of a heated bar brawl that hadn't even been her fault in the first place.

She had simply been enjoying a drink in a booth in the furthest corner of the bar when an argument had broken out between a group of men. Though it hadn't started physical, Alex could tell by their slurred words and threatening demeanours that it wouldn't take long for the argument to head down that road. Not wanting any part of it and hoping to spend the rest of her night in peace, she had begrudgingly finished her drink and moved across the room towards the exit.

Just as she was passing the now yelling group, however, one of the men had stumbled into her. Her patience having already worn thin and the cut on her neck still practically thrumming with pain, she had tried to shove the man off her harsher than necessary. When he still didn't budge, it hadn't taken long for her fist to connect with the side of his jaw. He went crashing to the ground, and the heavy thump had been the fuse to cause the fire. In a matter of seconds, curses were exchanged, punches thrown and the whole bar had erupted into chaos.

OK, so maybe it had been her fault.

Having already taken care of two of his friends, one of the inebriated men clumsily lifts his leg to kick at the twenty-one-year-old, but Alex manages to catch it between one of her hands. She uses her other to push at the space between his shoulder blades while using her leg to kick his out from underneath him at the same time, causing him to crash to a heap on the ground.

Moaning, the man clutches at his probably throbbing leg, sending a sneer Alex's way. "You- you bitch!"

Alex's response was a swift kick to his annoying face, rendering the man unconscious within seconds. "Talk shit, get hit, asshole."

A pair of arms unexpectedly wrap themselves around her middle and lift her off the ground. Without thinking, Alex throws her head back until it meets its mark, the sickening crack and howl that rips itself from the second man's throat and sounds through the noisy room informing her that she has broken his nose. Tearing free from the now loose grip, she turns and delivers a harsh kick to the man's gut, watching as he stumbles back into some stools and falls in a heap, clutching at his bloody nose.

She moves forward to deal with yet another man, but the sight of the bartender reaching for a gun behind the bar causes her to change direction at the last possible second. Within minutes she is out the door and speeding off down the highway in the old truck once more. She only drives for fifteen minutes before the sound of her phone going off fills the silent air, and she wastes no time in answering the call without bothering to check who it is on the other end of the line. "Hello?"

"Oh, good! You're not dead."

Snorting, Alex hooks the phone between her shoulder and her ear to put both hands on the wheel as she turns down a particularly winding bend. "Did you have your doubts?"

"Look, not gonna lie. When you didn't reply to my several messages and ten calls from earlier, I expected the worse."

She refrains from wincing at the pointed tone and lets out a long sigh instead. "Sorry. Things got a little hairy with a bar fight-"

"Seriously? Another one?"

"I didn't start this one, if that makes things better. Not intentionally, anyway…"

Isla Dunne lets out an exasperated sigh. "Jesus Christ. What the hell am I going to do with you?"

Alex chooses not to answer that, and instead informs her long-time best friend, "I would have called you sooner. But I got tangled up in a wraith case."

The annoyance is replaced with concern in an instant. "You alright?"

The fresh cut on the side of her neck seems to sting even more at the question, and she gingerly prods at it with two fingers to see if it had managed to bleed through the bandage that she had put on it only two hours prior. To her relief, she finds no sign of the red liquid on her pale digits when she draws them back in front of her again. She would have gone to the hospital to get it properly stitched up, but that would only gain her questions and attention from the authorities that she would much rather avoid. "Yeah. A little scraped up, but nothing that I can't handle. It tried to suck my brains out, but I moved at the last minute and it scaped my neck instead. Man, I fucking hate wraiths."

"But it's dead? And you're mostly in one piece?"

"Mhm."

"Where are you now?"

"Heading home. I'm about half an hour away from the farm. I haven't had the chance to call Noah to let him know that I'm coming, so he'll be in for a real shock when I walk through the door."

"How long do you plan on staying?"

Alex shrugs, even though the action can't be seen from the other end of the line. It isn't something that she had given much thought. The idea of returning home after spending a month and a half on the road hunting hadn't struck her until she had returned to the motel after killing the wraith. The thought of sleeping in her own bed had been too tempting, and before she knew it, she was taking the route back to Jackson without a second thought.

"A while, I guess? I don't really know. I've been pretty busy with all those cases you gave me last month. Wouldn't hurt to have a break for a bit but if something comes back up, then I'll probably head back out again."

"Right. And here I was thinking that two vampire cases, a pesky ghoul in Kansas and an annoying poltergeist would be enough to satisfy your weird hunting obsession."

"Ok, first of all, you forget to mention the wraith case- "

"No actually, I didn't. Technically you stumbled on that one all by yourself- "

"And second of all, I don't have a 'weird hunting obsession'- "

"That's what someone with a weird hunting obsession would say…"

Alex rolls her eyes. "You know why I do what I do. If I'm not going to get the job done, then who the hell else will?"

"Oh, c'mon, Alex. Surely there are a number of other capable hunters that can share the load every now and again?"

Her lips part to argue against this, but the words inevitably die in the back of her throat when the image of the Roadhouse and its many occupants flashes behind her eyes. She's spent enough time in that bar to witness the stream of hunters, both experienced and not so, that walk through those doors. She could easily notify Ellen about a few cases and get her to pass them along to any one of them, yet she never does. The unease she feels around other hunters always seems to return whenever she does pick up the phone to call Ellen, and it lingers long after she puts it down. No. No, she'd much rather trust herself to get the job done.

"None that I talk to," is her dismissive reply. Suddenly feeling tired and not particularly in the mood to be on the receiving end of one of Isla's lectures, Alex decides to cut this phone call short. "Look, I'm sorry that I didn't call you sooner. That was a dick move on my part- I promise to keep you more updated when I'm on the road, OK? How about I swing round your place tomorrow with some food, and we can catch up properly, hmm?"

There's a beat of silence as Isla considers her bribe, though it doesn't last long. "Fine. But I want doughnuts. Lots and lots of doughnuts."

"Deal."

"And some chocolate wouldn't hurt either."

Alex grins "You got it."

"And do me a favour? Take it easy on Noah. The guy seems rather off lately so I'm sure he doesn't need your sarcastic ass giving him more grief than you already do."

The smile slips from her face as quickly as it had appeared in the first place, and Alex doesn't bother to counter the light jab that had been sent her way. "What do you mean he's been off? What's wrong with Noah?"

"Nothing! Like, he's physically fine. But Oscar did say that he seemed a bit jumpy and not all that there when he ran into him outside his shop the other day, which is weird for him. Seemed like his mind was somewhere else entirely."

Despite the relief that courses through her veins at the news that there isn't anything physically wrong with Noah, Alex still frowns. He's the most well-put-together guy that she knows and for as long as she can remember, he has been a stable and constant presence in her life. Something must be on his mind if he's acting jumpy and off in front of Oscar- Isla's fiancée- of all people. The two of them usually get along very well.

"I'm about another half an hour away from the farm," Alex says. "I'll talk to him once I get home, find out what's going on. It might have something to do with the new shipment he ordered from home…"

"What shipment?"

"Before I left, he told me how he had ordered some books for the store from a friend back home. He seemed rather eager to get his hands on them."

"Back home?" Isla doesn't bother to hide the scepticism from her tone. "I didn't realise you guys still spoke to anyone from over there."

Alex shrugs. "It wasn't my idea. But Noah thought that it might be handy to keep an eye on things over there. Says that the more we know about them and what they're up to, the easier we can keep ourselves hidden from them."

Isla only offers a non-committal hum in response to this, clearly too caught up in her own thoughts on the matter to make any further comments. Jumping at the opportunity presented by the silence, Alex tiredly continues, "Like I said, I'll figure out what's going on when I get home, and I'll tell you everything when I see you in the morning. Thanks for calling though, Isles. I appreciate it."

Isla immediately softens. "Of course. Get a good nights sleep, alright?"

"You too- and give my love to Oscar," Alex bids farewell, before hanging up the phone and tossing it on the passenger seat. Clenching her teeth to suppress the yawn that threatens to seep past her lips, she arches her shoulders to crack her neck and turns up the volumes on the speakers so that Hayley Williams' voice blasts throughout the vehicle.

Half an hour later, she begins to slow the truck down as she passes the familiar oak tree growing beside the highway before taking a left down an almost concealed road. Loose rocks and pebbles fly from beneath the wheels of her car while dust caused by her chaotic driving flies out from the back, causing her to slow her pace a little. The last thing she wants is to hit some of the wildlife that they get this far out in the country.

It had been her idea to live on the outskirts of town when she and Noah had first decided to settle. Not only for safety measures but also because of the peace that doing so would grant them living away from everything and everyone. Noah hadn't protested when she suggested buying the two-story one hundred-and fifty-year-old farmhouse and the land that came with it, with Alex quietly suspecting that he enjoyed the remoteness of it all just as much as she did. Not a lot of people were even aware that their home existed, which inevitably helps them hide away from the supernatural horrors that have haunted them all their lives.

The ghost of a smile dances over her lips when she turns down the bend and sees the dark silhouette of the house looming in front of her. The idea of having a long, warm shower and crawling into her own bed after all this time doesn't seem so farfetched, and she almost lets out a sigh of relief. But her joy is short-lived and quickly replaced with confusion when she notices the light streaming through the gaps between the kitchen windows and the curtains from the other side. Her brows knit together as she realises that this must mean that Noah is still awake. It's not that late, but Alex can't remember that last time that he stayed up for this long; anything after nine-thirty is deemed an 'ungodly' time to be awake by the older man.

She casts her confusion to the side as she guides the truck to a gentle stop by the shed where they have always parked it. It doesn't take her long to grab her bag and sling it over her shoulder- which practically screams in agonising protest at the new and heavy weight- and before she knows it, she's standing on her front porch for the first time in almost two months. Without hesitating, she raises a fist and slams it three times against the old, chipped door, the thumps echoing throughout the night.

The sounds of the muffled cry and small crash is almost drowned out by the sound of her bag hitting the porch beside her feet, but Alex hears them all the same. She knows for a fact that he should have been able to have heard her pulling up in front of the shed- her car isn't exactly what you would call quiet, especially on gravel. But before she can dwell too much on the matter, she hears Noah shuffling on the other side of the door. Moments later, his figure appears behind the opaque glass at the top of the door before he starts to fumble with the lock.

The door is opened just a crack and despite her exhaustion, Alex can't help but grin at the sight of Noah Donovan's old and kind face peeks through the gap he has created. His green eyes framed by round-rimmed glasses widen at the sight of her bloodied state before him, and the door is swung fully open not even two seconds later.

"Isn't it well and truly past your bedtime old man?" She greets, a teasing lilt to her tone.

He continues to stare at her in front of him with the same look of disbelief clouding his features until he slowly reaches up to remove his glasses from his face. Fiddling with them in his slim fingers, he replies with his thick accent, "Bloody hell. What- what are you doing here?"

"Last time I checked this is the place that I call home. C'mon, Noah. I haven't been gone for that long."

"I do hope that that's sarcasm I can detect in your tone."

"A month and a half is considerably a lot shorter than some of the other stunts that I've pulled in the past. I'm home now, and I'm alive in one piece- that's all that really matters."

One of his greying brows arches up at this while his eyes take in her haggard appearance, bloodstained skin and clothes, and the bandage covering half of her neck. Sending her a look as if to say 'Really? This is what you call one piece?' He questions lowly, "I assume that these hunts were easier ones then, seeing as how you're home early than you usually are. And that you're 'in one piece as you so eloquently put it."

She huffs at this. Easy. As if any hunt is ever easy. "I'm sure that Isla kept you updated. I would have been home sooner, but I came across a wraith case that I couldn't pass up."

"I'm sure you couldn't," Noah mutters not unkindly, as he shoves his glasses on his face once more before running a hand through his grey locks. It's now in their brief moment of silence that Alex manages to glimpse at him properly, and she can't help but think that he looks much older than the last time she had seen him. She doesn't think that any other human has as many frown lines as he does, and there are purple shadows beneath his sunken green eyes that starkly contrast against his pale skin. The corners of his mouth seemed to be tugged down in a permanent frown, and he looks tired. Not in the sense that he needs a good night's sleep- which he probably does- but in the sense that there is something weighing heavily on him.

Before she has any chance to ask him if he's alright, he reaches down and grabs her bag in his hands, before stepping to the side. "Come inside and get cleaned up. I'll make us some tea, and the two of us can catch up."

She complies and hurries into the house. Thanking him, she takes her bag from him before clambering up the stairs leading to the second floor. The white walls are just as bare as she remembers them despite the hooks and nails embedded into them allowing Alex and Noah to hang up photos and paintings if they wish. But they never have, despite having lived in the house for three years now.

They don't need- or want- constant reminders of everything they have lost.

She spends almost twenty minutes scrubbing the grime from her skin and washing the blood from her hair and only emerges from the bathroom when she is convinced that she is entirely clean. She hurries to change into some pyjamas and apply a fresh bandage to the cut on her neck before making her way down to the kitchen once more.

She pauses in the doorway, however, at the sight of Noah leaning over a pile of books on the table while the kettle boils on the counter behind him. His eyes trail rapidly back and forth across the open pages of a leather-bound book, but Alex is too far away to make out what the words say. All she can make out is a dark, messy scrawl littered on the worn pages, leading her to believe that it is a journal of some sort. Whatever it says, he appears to be too engrossed by it to notice her staring at him in the doorway.

"What are you reading?"

Noah yelps, his head snapping up to her in puzzlement- almost as if he had forgotten that she is home. In a flash, his hands grab the edge of the book and slams it firmly shut. "Nothing," he says, not noticing the way that Alex's brows raise at his suspicious behaviour. "I was just glancing over some books that I ordered for the store, is all."

"Is this part of the new shipment? From home?"

"Ah, some of it yes," Noah says, as he hastily shoves the book under the pile of others. "Others were sent to me by some other hunters that no longer had use for them. They thought the books might be nice additions to the shop…"

Alex moves forward and grabs the top book from the pile. "Ahh, yes. Because The Satanic Signs of Satanic Rituals is just what I want to see every time I walk past the shelf. A lovely addition indeed."

Noah plucks it from her hand, sending her a small glare. "Obviously, this would belong out back with the other more, questionable, works. Do me a favour and grab the kettle, would you?"

"Sure thing old man."

As Noah begins to pack the books away in a box that had been sitting next to the table, Alex begins to make the tea. She moves with ease through the task, knowing after all these years just how he likes it. "I know that you find new books fascinating and all, but you could always wait to look over them at a better time. You know, when the sun is actually up and not in the middle of the night when you look like you're about to pass out from exhaustion at any given moment."

"It's not that late."

"It's almost midnight, Noah."

There's a beat of silence. Then a soft, 'Oh'.

She turns to face him as she swings the cupboard door shut, not bothering to conceal the worry from her face. Isla hadn't been wrong- there's something bothering him. Alex has only been in the same room with him for five minutes and already she can sense it. "Is everything alright? No offence, but you've been acting weird ever since I showed up."

"Yes. Yes, I'm fine," he feebly tries to assure her. The fact that he doesn't meet her eye as he does is enough to tell her that he isn't telling the truth. "I've just, um. Been- been busy with work and all-"

He cuts off at the kettle finally boils, distracting Alex long enough for the older man to make his escape. The moment she turns her head towards the appliance he darts out the door with the box of books in his hands, no doubt on his way to the basement to add them with the rest of the collection.

Cursing, she proceeds to make the tea.

The drinks are ready by the time Noah returns to the kitchen, and he offers Alex a grateful smile as he takes a seat and begins to sip at the hot drink.

"How's the shop going?"

Noah shrugs. "The usual. Not much has been happening in regards to other hunters passing through- things seem relatively quiet at the moment."

Alex silently notes that his words entirely contradict the excuse that he had uttered only moments prior, but she decides not to call him out on it now. "That will probably change. When I stopped by the roadhouse Ellen was saying how there are almost three times as many cases now compared to this time last year. Things are getting crazy out there."

"I'll do some digging- see if there's an event that we need to prepare for," Noah assures her. "On a brighter note, how is Ellen? I haven't spoken to her for a while."

"She's fine. But Jo's been giving her a bit of hell lately. She dropped out of school because she's that eager to hunt, despite Ellen wanting her to have nothing to do with the life. She'd rather die than have her daughter become a hunter."

"Rightfully so. She has already had to endure the loss of her husband. I doubt that she could handle the loss of her only daughter as well."

He speaks with such a profound pain in his voice that Alex immediately knows that he isn't just referring to their friends. She reaches up to fiddle with the locket that always hangs loosely around her neck as her mind also begins to wander towards dark and unwanted memories. A heavy silence falls on them both as they mull over the older hunter's words, and Alex can't bear to lift her head and meet his gaze. She only keeps her eyes fixed on the cup between her hands, suddenly not feeling as thirsty as she had moments before.

It only takes a few more minutes for the silence to become too much for her to handle, so she decides to break it by clearing her throat. "Any news on my car?"

And with the abrupt change of subject, the tension in the atmosphere vanishes entirely. "It's all fixed. I went and picked it up from the mechanics a few days after you left. It's waiting for you in the shed. And perhaps, if something does happen to go wrong with it again, you should let the mechanic try and solve the problem first before taking matters into your own hands."

"I was in the middle of nowhere without a single bar of reception. And there was no way in hell I was just going to leave my car behind for some jackass to come along and steal. I did what I had to do."

"Alex, you don't know the first thing about cars."

"That's not entirely true. I know how to do the oil and water. But, for your sake, I promise that I'll let the professionals handle it in the future."

"Wise choice. And I would also suggest avoiding purposely crashing it into trees as well-"

"That was circumstantial, and it wasn't even my car, alright? It made the werewolf case a hell of a lot easier. It kept the bastard in place long enough for me to get the right shot."

His eyes widen with exasperation. "Honestly-" he cuts off with a tired sigh and lifts a hand to rub at his forehead. "You're a worry sometimes, Alexandria."

"If it makes you feel any better, there are so many other hunters out there besides me who have done worse shit than that…"

"Most of those hunters are middle-aged men that don't have anyone left to worry about them."

Any smart-ass comment that had been itching to work itself free from her mouth immediately fizzles out on the top of her tongue at the seriousness in his tone. Guilt crashes over her like a tidal wave as she silently admits to herself that she should have come home sooner. Or, at the very least, picked up the phone more often and call those from home that she cared about to let them know that she's still breathing. The fact that both Noah and Isla worry about her as much as they do doesn't make things easier, but she knows that it stems from a place of care and love for her.

"If I were you, I would stop by to see Isla sometime tomorrow."

"I was planning on it."

Picking up on her sudden glum mood, Noah gently stresses, "She worries, is all. We both do."

"I know," Alex says, doing her best to swallow away the guilt. "Uh, if it makes you feel any better, I was thinking of sticking around for a bit. Maybe I can stop by and help you out with the store or something."

"I take it that this means you'll be straying from your hunting for a while?"

Alex nods. "That's the plan. For now, at least." She knows that the longer that she spends away from the job the more likely it is that there's someone out there who will inevitably be placed in danger. But she also knows that if she continues on the way that she has been for the past month- job after job without even a second to stop and slow down- then she's eventually going to burn out. And she'll be no use to someone if she's sick and tired- or dead. The last thing she wants is to hunt when she isn't a hundred per cent and wind up ripped to smithereens by whatever monster it is that she is dealing with at the time.

"Plus, I'm almost broke," she adds as an afterthought. "I might ask Dianne if I can pick up a few shifts at the pool or something for a while."

She waits for Noah to make a comment on this, but when none comes, she lifts her gaze from the cup in her hand to across the table. To her surprise, he isn't paying any attention to her whatsoever. He gnaws at his chapped lips in a thoughtful manner, his eyes cast to the floor beneath their feet as he deeply thinks to himself while Alex stares at him.

"Noah," she tries, but he only hums, clearly not even listening.

An irk of frustration begins to boil within her at the lack of response. Throwing caution to the wind, she removes the hair tie from her wrist and hooks it around one finger. With another, she draws it back before releasing it, watching as it soars through the air and hits him square in the face. It has the desired effect, as Noah flinches where he sits in his seat. His eyes snap from the ground to her in an instant and he is quick to shoot daggers her way. "Ow," he snaps, reaching up to rub at his now reddening forehead. "What the bloody hell was that for?"

"For not listening to me," Alex snaps back. "I've been trying to have a conversation with you for the past ten minutes, in case you've forgotten. Seriously, what is going on? And don't even try to say that you're fine because we both know that would be a lie."

He opens his mouth as if to counter this argument, but it seems that the words get stuck in his throat as nothing comes out. Alex sends him a pointed look and defiantly crosses her arms over her chest, implying that she isn't going anywhere until she has her answers. If it means that she would have to sit in the kitchen with him all night, then so be it.

Noah seems to take the hint, as he lets out a weary sigh and raises his hands momentarily in defeat. "Alright. Alright, I apologise. I know I seem…"

"Off."

"Yes, off. It's just… I discovered recently that an old friend of mine passed away a little over three weeks ago."

Her confusion disperses and is replaced with a tender concern that Alex reserves for only a handful of people- including him. "I'm so sorry. Were- were you guys close?"

She already knows what his answer would be. Due to the lifestyle they live and how cautious the Donovans are, it isn't surprising that the two of them don't have many friends. There's Isla and Oscar of course, but they are more Alex's friends than his. Noah has acquaintances that he meets through running the bookstore in town, and he has made some allies over the years when hunters have walked through the door looking for a certain text that might help them with a case. But other than that, Noah doesn't really do friends. Still, Alex knows that asking is the polite thing to do.

"I wouldn't say close," Noah says, confirming her suspicions. "But John came to the store a lot when I first opened. I even helped him out on a case or two back in the day. He actually called a few days just before his death to say that he had some information for me…"

Alex casts her thoughts to the memories that she has of all the hunters that have turned up in the store, but her mind can't conjure up any images of a John. The two of them must have worked together when she was little and oblivious to the supernatural horrors that haunt this world.

"He was a skilled hunter. One of the best- which is why I can't believe that he's gone."

"Did he go out fighting at least?"

"I'm not sure what got him in the end. My contact only said that he had died- I don't think he knew what killed him either."

Alex silently hopes that it hadn't been anywhere near as gruesome or bloody as most hunters get but deep down, she knows full well that whatever it is that killed the hunter wouldn't have been peaceful. Not wanting to upset Noah any further, however, she doesn't voice this out loud. Instead, she offers, "Look, if you want to take some time off from the shop, I'm more than happy to cover you for a couple of days-"

"Thank you, Alex. That's very kind of you, but I have to head into the shop tomorrow anyway to drop of some of those new books. Besides, you've just come back from almost two months of hunting. I think that if anyone needs to take some time off, then it's you."

Alex scrunches up her nose at the thought of rest. She's someone that constantly needs to be doing something- it's probably why she hunts as much as she does. No matter how many evil, supernatural beings that she deals with, there will always be more waiting to fill the empty spaces; it's enough to keep her on the edge of her seat. "Well, maybe I can come in even for just a little bit after I visit Isla tomorrow," she insists.

"Then you might want to think about calling it a night," Noah gently suggests. "As you pointed out before, it's late. And you've had a massive day it seems, and you'll likely have a more than a quiet reunion with Isla tomorrow as well."

Alex snorts, noting that there is nothing but truth to be found in Noah's words. Isla Dunne is like a live wire. She's constantly on the move, with thousands of words ready to roll off the tip of her tongue at any given point. She can also be unpredictable as well, though Alex has a sneaking suspicion that despite the peace offering of doughnuts and chocolates that she will provide tomorrow, a lecture will still be thrown her way.

"Alright- but only if you do the same, Old Man," she concedes, before pulling herself to her feet. She stretches her arms over her head and doesn't bother to suppress the yawn that spills past her lips and fills the empty space between them, before making a move to reach for their now empty teacups. Just as her hand closes around the handles of Noah's, however, a thought suddenly strikes her. "Did you end up getting that information?"

"Pardon?"

"The information that John was meant to give you- did you end up finding out what it was? I mean, I know he… I know he died before he could give it to you, but there might have been someone else that he told before he was killed."

Noah blinks owlishly at her. "Oh, er…" he mutters. All too soon the old and open Noah that she has known for her entire life vanishes, and this new and secretive version of him is quick to take its place. She doesn't like it. "No, no I didn't. But I might, I might try and reach out to some of his friends and family. I suppose that there is a chance that he gave it to someone before he passed."

"Do you have any idea on what it could be about?"

"Probably just some stuff for the store," Noah says with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Speaking of, I'll most likely be gone by the time you get up tomorrow, so don't panic if I'm not here when you wake up. I should be well and truly back by noon though."

The sudden change of subject doesn't fly over Alex's head unnoticed, and it causes the feeling of unease to settle unpleasantly in the pit of her stomach, making it churn. Despite his insistence that everything is fine, Alex knows that he's lying to her; what's alarming is that Noah never lies to her. Or keeps anything from her. They're really all that one another has after all these years. Yes, Alex might have Isla and Oscar, but it's different with them. They just don't get why Alex is as untrustworthy as she is and why she's always on edge, constantly looking over her shoulder as if expecting some big bad to be watching her. They don't really understand just how cruel life can be and how many supernatural horrors wait and lurk in the shadows, ready to pounce at someone's weakest moment.

But Noah does. He more than gets it because he's lived it.

And yet, he is distancing himself from her. But if there's one thing that Alex is, then it's she's determined. And while he might have been reluctant to share with her what's plaguing his mind tonight, she will try again the following day when she's not too tired to keep persisting.

It turns out that Alex was more exhausted than she originally thought, as she sleeps through the alarm meant to wake her up at ten the next morning. It's an hour and a half later that she bolts upright out of bed, swearing as she begins to scramble back and forth through the farmhouse, frantically trying to get herself organised. Normally there would be no rush, but she knows that Isla has a shift at the hospital starting just after lunch, and couldn't afford to be late to it due to her being new to the job.

She gets changed in record timing is quick to grab her bag before she heads into the kitchen for a quick bite. Just as she downs the last bite of her toast, a sudden and loud knock from the front door echoes throughout the suddenly eerie silent house, and causes Alex to freeze where she leans against the kitchen sink. Forgetting her breakfast entirely, she slowly turns her head towards the sound, hand inching towards the pockets of her pants to pull out of her phone to see whether she has missed a message from Isla.

In the several years that they have lived here, no one has ever ventured this far out into the country to pay the Donovan's a visit. Isla and Oscar were the exceptions to this, but they knew better than to show up unannounced on the front porch; they always called ahead. So when Alex finds that there are no new notifications that she might have missed in her haste to get ready, she immediately pulls a knife from the knife block beside her, twisting it in her hand until it sits right.

Something isn't right.

With her heart suddenly beating frantically against her chest, she inhales sharply to try and keep the sudden nerves at bay. She takes a small step forward to pull out one of the many vials of holy water that she and Noah keep hidden around the house from the cutlery door before she then slowly begins to trek towards the front door and whoever- or whatever- it is that awaits her on the other side.

She can make out two broad and tall silhouettes on the other side of the opaque glass, and the deep voices that mumble words to one another under their breath leads Alex to believe that they are two men. Her grip on the knife only tightens at the thought, and she unscrews the vial of holy water, before sliding it in her back pocket; close enough if she is forced to use it, but keeping it out of their eyesight to give her the element of surprise.

Her hand grips the door handle so tightly that her knuckles appear white against her taut skin. Letting out a long breath and trying her best to school the features of her face into relaxation as best as she can, she finally pulls the door back just a bit, so that she can peak at her unwanted guests through the smallest of gaps.

It is, in fact, two men that stand before it. The tallest one is almost a head taller than the shorter of the two- Alex physically has to crane her neck back to look at his face- with a mop of shaggy chestnut-brown hair that sits on his head, and a fringe that threatens to fall in front of his hazel green eyes. There's a small cut on the bridge of his pale nose that looks like its in the process of healing, and a light, purple bruise under his left eye. He offers Alex a small, and hesitant smile with his thin lips as they briefly make eye contact, before her attention shifts to the man standing beside him.

Like the first man, this one is dressed in jeans and plaid, though an old, brown leather jacket hangs off his shoulders. Though shorter he is still taller than Alex, with tanned skin and a light splash of freckles over his nose. His features a sharp, especially his jawline, and his lips are full. His dark blonde hair is short and cropped yet styled neatly and he too has a few small cuts and bruises decorating his face- the most prominent being a nasty-looking vertical scratch on his forehead. Unlike the first man, however, this one doesn't smile at Alex and his apple-green eyes look bored and annoyed, something dark haunting them.

She readjusts her grip on the knife, hidden behind the door. They may be pretty, but that doesn't mean that they aren't dangerous. "Can I help you?" She asks, voice as hard as steel.

"Are you Alex Donovan?" The taller one asks, causing Alex's hairs to stand on end. It's never a good thing when a complete stranger knows her name.

"Who's asking?"

"I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean," the man continues, gesturing to himself and his brother, respectively. As Dean raises a hand in greeting Sam continues, "Do you mind if we come in?"

"Sorry, but I make it a habit not to invite complete strangers into my home."

"Where's the fun in that?" Dean questions, a light smirk pulling at the corners of his lips. The smirk is quick to dissipate at the harsh glare that Alex sends him in response, not a hint of humour to be detected on her face.

Sam clears his throat, picking up on Alex's defensive stance. "Look, we're not here to hurt you. We were told by a friend that you could help us with something that we're dealing with."

"Who's your friend?"

"Ellen Harvelle. She runs the roadhouse-"

"I know who she is. Why is she under the impression that I can help you?" Alex questions, hoping that they can't detect how thrown she is by this information. In all the years that she has been visiting the Roadhouse Ellen has never sent anyone to her for help. She knows full well that Alex would prefer to be left alone, not having to deal with people's bullshit and work through the trust issues that she has.

"She says that you've dealt with the same thing that we're dealing with at the moment."

And just like that, the pieces of the puzzle click together. Not that Alex likes them very much. "You're hunters then."

"Well, aren't you?" Dean asks.

"On and off. I enjoy the quiet life too much to give it up completely," she nonchalantly reveals, reaching into her back pocket for the vial of holy water. Once grasped tightly between her fingers, she snakes her hand out through the gap in the door to hold it out to them. "I want proof. So go ahead and splash some of this stuff on your skin."

Dean lets out a scoff of disbelief. "You can't be serious."

"If you're a hunter, then you should have nothing to worry about."

Dean looks like he's about to argue, but Sam quickly interjects and takes the vials from her hands. Rolling up the sleeves of his jacket, he pours some of the water onto his pale, bared skin. Alex watches him like a hawk and feels herself relax ever so slightly when his skin doesn't sizzle and burn beneath the liquid. Not wanting to show them this, however, she only jerks her head towards Dean beside him. "His turn."

Dean is quick to snatch the vial from his brother's hands, grumbling something unintelligible under his breath as he does. But nevertheless, he repeats Sam's actions, practically shoving the vial back to a pleased Alex in front of him once he's done. "Happy?" he questions, wiping the unharming holy water on the edge of his plaid beneath the jacket.

"Not quite," Alex says, nodding her head towards the hilt of the blade that she can just back out in Sam's front pocket. That as well.

"You've gotta be kidding me."

"Dean," Sam reprimands, a small glare twisting the features of his face. Ignoring the incredulous look that he earns for this, he places the tip of the knife against the still bared skin of his hand and applies enough pressure to make a small opening in his skin. Other than the small wince that emits from his throat as they all watch the red liquid blossom from the wound, nothing else appears out of the ordinary to Alex. Nodding, she then casts her expectant gaze back to Dean.

He returns the gaze with a glare of his own but when it becomes apparent that she isn't going to back down anytime soon, he holds his hand out for the knife. Once Sam places it in his hands, Dean doesn't break eye contact with Alex as he cuts into his skin in the similar manner as Sam had, grimacing as pulls the knife back. "Happy?"

"Very."

"Alright. We passed your little test. Can we come in now?"

"No."

The knife lands on the porch with a clatter. "What the fuck? We just proved that we're human!" Dean half shouts.

"I can see that. But that doesn't change the fact that you're both strangers to me. Just because you're hunters doesn't mean that you're good people."

Dean looks like he's seconds away from busting down the door and throttling her where she stands, but Alex only matches his heated stare with a scowl of her own. Sam, who Alex has quickly figured out is the most reasonable of the two, steps forward in a way that half obstructs Dean from Alex's view. With his hands raised up to show her that he means no harm, he tries to reason, "Look, it was Ellen that sent us. I mean, that has to count for something, right?"

Alex opens her mouth to tell him to stick it where the sun doesn't shine, but the words get caught in the back of her throat as she considers his words. Ellen knows how much Alex hates working with other hunters. There's no way that she would send someone to come and find Alex if it wasn't important and if she didn't think that Alex could help.

"What are you hunting?" She begrudgingly asks.

Sam looks a little taken aback as if he hadn't expected her to give them the benefit of the doubt. He recovers quickly though, as he lowers his arms back to his side and begins, "It's a demon-"

"Shouldn't two hunters be enough to take care of some little old demon? A dash of holy water, a pinch of salt, a little exorcism and you're well and truly on your way to sending the bastard back to hell."

"Alright, we know how to deal with a demon," Dean practically snarls. "There's no need to be such a smart ass."

"If you know how to get rid of one, then why the hell are you bothering me? I just got home for fuck's sake! I'm not exactly looking for a new case at the moment-"

"Look, look!" Sam loudly interjects over the two, bickering adults. "Look, I'm sorry, but we wouldn't have come to you if we had another choice. The demon we're hunting at the moment is different to any kind that we've come across, alright? Holy water doesn't work on it and it has yellow eyes-"

Alex sucks in a sharp gasp, her heart leaping into her throat at the two, little words that Sam had just uttered, not knowing the full effect that they would have on her.

Yellow Eyes.

Jesus Fucking Christ.

All of the animosity seems to drain out of Dean as he closely watches her reaction to the words, his round eyes widening at her borderline dramatic response. "So you do know what we're talking about." It's an accusation more than it is a question, and it is enough to knock the breath out of Alex once more.

No…

She tries to tell them that she can't help them. That whatever it is that they're looking for, she's not it. She does. But the words come out jarred and jumbled, and she knows that she's not making a lick of sense. Giving up on words altogether, she slams the door shut in their surprised faces, sliding the multiple deadbolts into place to keep them from forcing their way in. She stumbles back and ignores their concerned questions and knocks that come from the other side of the door until the back of her legs hit the bottom of the stairs, causing her to trip and half collapse on them. The knife slips from her hand and lands uselessly on the ground beside her, but she pays it no attention as the memories that she has tried so hard to keep buried all these years float up to her surface, tormenting her once more.

Quinn? Quinn!

Collateral damage-

Screams and blood.

"Are you alright?"

Rope burning against her skin.

Alex! Alex, run!

Golden eyes-

She squeezes her eyes shut in a feeble attempt to ward them off, her hand finding its way to the locket that hangs from her throat. She's still curled up and clutching it long after the Winchesters give up and take off, the sound of their roaring engine fading in the distance as they drive down the dirt road, leaving behind a shaken and trembling Alex in their wake.