Though it took the three hunters a while to mutually agree on what the next best move would be, they ultimately decide to wait until that evening to head into town and make an appearance at one of the local bars, knowing that it's likely where their hunter – and possibly any more vampires – will be. Until then, Alex had purposefully distanced herself from the Winchesters, keeping to herself in her motel room and eventually heading into town alone to find somewhere to eat that night.
She slowly walked back to the motel to meet the brothers in the carpark at exactly eight o'clock, before they then clambered into the Impala and took off, Dean thankfully turning the stereo down to a reasonable volume this time.
It doesn't take them all that long to find the most popular bar in town and park their car in the next street over, eyeing the crowd that strew in and out of the small building. It seems that despite the Sheriff's assurances that a strict curfew has been put in place, most of the residents don't care and eagerly pile into the small, damp building on the main street. Drunken yells, laughter and calls echo throughout the night air every time the front door swings open. Once the three hunters have exited the Impala and made their way inside, Alex is greeted with the smell of stale booze, cigarette ash and the sound of some old country song playing from the old jukebox machine in the corner. It's filled to the brim with locals, but she somehow manages to weave her way through the crowd without accidently bumping into anyone, following after Sam and Dean as they approach the bar itself.
"How's it going?" Dean greets one of the bartenders with cropped hair, a denim vest and a three-day growth spread across the lower half of his face.
"Livin' the dream," he deadpans. "What can I get you?"
"Three beers please."
Once the bills are smacked down on the bar, the man turns towards the fridge behind him, bending down to retrieve the drinks.
"Cheers," Alex says once he slides a drink her way, not wasting any time in bringing the bottle up to her lips for a long sip.
There's a brief moment of silence as the three hunters take sips from their bottles and the bartender dries some freshly cleaned glasses on the other side of the bar. Eventually, however, Sam, idly tapping the top of beer clears his throat and says, "So, we're looking for some people."
The man snorts. "Sure. Hard to be lonely."
"Yeah, but uh, that's not what I meant."
At the sight of a fifty-dollar bill that Sam flashes the bartender's way, the latter lets out a small huff before hurriedly swiping it up and pocketing it before Sam can change his mind. Nodding, he asks, "What kind of people?"
"Well, these people – they probably would have moved here about six months ago. Like to be rowdy, have a bit to drink…"
"Yeah, real night owls," Dean adds. "Sleep all day, party all night."
The man purses his lips, thinking to himself. "The Barker farm got leased out a couple of months ago. Real winners. They've been in here a few times and the whole lot of them are drinkers. Noisy too. I've had to eighty-six them once or twice."
Nodding his head and seemingly having all the information that he needs, Dean thanks the man before he then beckons for Sam and Alex to follow him away from the bar top, the three of them moving over to a dark corner so as not to be overheard by the rest of the people around them.
"It sounds like a nest to me," Dean mutters lowly, eyes flickering to and from the people around them to ensure that they weren't listening in. "And judging from the sound of things seems like there might be a few more vamps at that farm."
"Unless your hunter friend managed to take care of them," Alex says, trying – yet failing – to keep the bitterness out of her tone. She would be lying if she said that she wasn't still pissed that they were really going through with trying to find this hunter and talk to them. She just hopes that Sam keeps his word and doesn't allow himself or his brother to work with them.
"I don't think so," the youngest Winchester now says. "If there really is a nest and this hunter took them all out, then wouldn't there be more bodies?"
"So, what? You think that the rest of the nest is still alive?"
"Probably, yeah."
Finishing his drink, Dean slams the now empty bottle on the table closest to them. "Looks like we need to go and check out that farm then."
She can't fight the sneer that seeps across her face. "I thought you wanted to stick around and find this hunter?"
"Chances are he's probably hanging around the farm. Going there's probably our best option."
Not feeling in the mood to argue, Alex mirrors his actions by quickly downing her drink and placing the empty bottle on the table, before begrudgingly following the brothers back out the front door and towards the side alley that they had originally walked down earlier. She allows the Winchesters to walk a little further ahead than her as they move back towards the Impala, staring down at the ground as she moves and resisting the urge to angrily scuff it with her feet.
She can't believe that it's a bloody hunter that they're trying to find right now. A hunter. Someone belonging to the group of people that she had successfully managed to avoid running into after the past three years, yet the Winchesters have managed to change all of that within a few days of knowing her. It's enough to make her skin crawl and for a small ounce of anger to simmer beneath her surface, making her regret the decision to hit the road with them in the first place.
Sam had assured her that they just wanted to talk to this guy – or woman – and that nothing more would come out of that other than sharing information with one another. They had promised her that they wouldn't get involved with other hunters and, according to him at least, they plan to keep this promise. Against her better judgement, she had reluctantly listened to him and stayed. But now, as they draw closer to finding this hunter, she can't help but dwell on the fact that maybe she should have taken her chance of escape when it had so easily presented itself to her in the morgue earlier that day.
A slight, scuffle of feet somewhere behind her has Alex coming to an abrupt halt in her steps and slightly turning her head to the side. Frowning, her ears strain to try and hear the noise again and when they don't, she turns fully on the spot, her eyes scouring every inch of the dark alley behind her. Nothing but trash cans, dark shadows and broken glass scattered across the ground greets her. In the distance, she can still hear people laughing from inside the bar.
She could chalk it up to being her imagination. But as a hunter, she knows better.
She turns back around just in time to see the brothers round the corner up ahead. Despite every instinct in her body screaming for her to run, she moves forward at the same pace that she had before, hands tucking into the inside of her coat where the fingers of her right-hand curl tightly around the small knife tucked safely away. It isn't until she turns round the corner that she quickens her pace, catching up to the Winchesters easily.
She grabs them by the back of their coats, earning looks of surprise from both of them. "We're being followed."
It takes them all three seconds to react. Dean reaches into his own pocket and grabs a knife and Sam leads the three of them over towards a large dumpster in the corner of the alley, the three of them just managing to duck down and squeeze behind it, though it's a tight fit. She elbows Dean further away from her, earning a reproachful look from him in turn as she does so, but before he gets the chance to tell her to fuck off, the sound of footsteps erupts in the night air. Stilling, the three hunters wait.
Perched in front of the boys, Alex waits a moment before ever so slightly turning her nose around the corner of the dumpster, trying to get a good look at the person following them. A man, with gleaming dark skin and a beard, stands in the middle of the alleyway, confusion lacing his features as he turns this way and that, likely searching for the three hunters that have managed to slip from his grasp so far. Vampire or not, it's impossible for Alex to tell. But the fact that this guy followed them down an alley in the middle of the night causes alarm bells to go off in her head.
It isn't until he turns so that his back is to them that the Winchesters and Alex silently emerge from their hiding spot, prowling forward undetected and moving towards their intended target. He turns around too late, and only seconds later the Winchester brothers have him pinned to the wall, Dean holding the knife up to the man's – or vampire's – throat. Alex stands behind them, knife at the ready in case their captive tries to make a sudden break for it.
"Smile," Dean growls. "Show us those pearly whites."
The man freezes. "What?"
"You heard him," Alex says, brandishing her knife in front of him. "Smile."
"Oh for the love of – you want to point those knives someplace else? I'm not a vampire." Realisation dawns on Sam's features, but the man must mistake it for confusion as he adds, "Yeah, that's right, I heard you guys back in there."
Yet, it's still not enough to convince them. "What do you know about vampires?" Sam demands.
"How to kill them," the man says, before eying the knife that Dean is still pressing against the edge of his throat. "Now seriously bro, that knife's making me itch."
"You're not a vampire? Prove it," Alex snaps. "Show us your teeth."
The man rolls his eyes at her harsh persistence but thankfully refrains from further arguing with them. His arm flexes upward, but Sam immediately slams it against the wall behind him, not willing to take any chances.
"Whoa, easy there, Chachi! I'm showing you, alright? Take it easy."
After a moment of hesitation, Sam reluctantly loosens his grip on the man's arm. The latter waits a moment, before slowly lifting that same arm up until his fingers hover at the corner of his mouth. Slowly, yet deliberately, he grasps his upper lip with his forefinger and thumb before sliding it up, revealing his straight, white teeth and pink gums on the inside. The three hunters lean in closer, eyes peering at the gums and finding no holes or fangs waiting for them.
"See? Fangless," the man says, releasing his lip and lowering his arms back down.
After a moment and a shared glance with his brother, Dean slowly lowers the knife and he and Sam back away. Holding her ground, Alex keeps the knife gripped in her hand but reluctantly lowers it to her side, still ready to use at any given minute.
"Why are you following us?" She demands.
"Like I said, I heard you guys at the bar. Didn't take me long to put two and two together and I came out to talk. You know, hunter to hunter."
Even though a part of her had seen it coming, it takes everything within Alex to bite back an annoyed groan. A part of her had secretly hoped that the hunter responsible for the deaths of the vampires had already cleared out of town and that there wasn't a chance for the Winchesters and her to cross paths with them. Clearly, fate had other ideas.
"Didn't really think that I would end up with a knife to my throat though."
Dean shrugs, the distrust and hostility that had been radiating off him moments earlier practically dispersing the moment that it was revealed that this man is the hunter that he had been keen to find. Alex bites back a frown.
"Sorry. Occupational hazard."
"Hey, I get it man," the man assures, holding up his hands good-naturedly. "It's all good. Probably would have done the same, if I'm honest." Then, holding out a hand that Dean instantly takes in his own for a friendly shake, the man adds, "The name's Gordon Walker. Who the hell are you guys?"
"I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother Dean," Sam says, taking Gordon's hand when he offers it to him, but it isn't long before the latter's eyes fall on a still-tense Alex.
"And what about you, Sweetheart?"
Her lips inch back to curl into a snarl, but she manages to turn them into a bitter, cool smile instead. "Alex," she says, not willing to offer anything more – especially her last name – to this complete stranger.
Gordon immediately picks up on the hostility lacing the one-worded response (not that she was trying to hide it anyway) so he only offers her a single nod of his head and a quick, raise of his brows before he turns his attention back to the brothers in front of him, head tilted with curiosity.
"Winchester? Like, John Winchester?"
Dean stiffens, but seeing no immediate threat, Sam offers a small nod. "Yeah," he says. "He – he was our Dad."
"Well I'll be damned," Gordon replies, a wide smile suddenly threatening to split his face in half. "I can't believe it. Sam and Dean Winchester, in the flesh. Hey, is it true that you guys took out a Wendigo with a flare gun?"
Alex arches a brow at this, momentarily placing her hostility on hold so that she can turn to see what the brother's answers would be. To her surprise, Sam offers a sheepish, crooked smile.
"Uh, yeah. That was us."
Gordon laughs. "Nice. You know, I met your old man once. He was one hell of a hunter and a great guy. He taught me a few things here and there." Then, sobering up, he adds, "I heard he passed. I'm sorry. It's big shoes but from what I hear, you guys' fill 'em. Great trackers, good in a tight spot – it's really great to meet you."
While Dean and Sam take a more prideful and slightly embarrassed response to this, Alex tilts her head to the side, anger and suspicion being pushed down momentarily to be replaced with curiosity instead. Based on Gordon's words and his genuine excitement to be talking to the brothers, it seems that the Winchesters have a bit of a reputation. Not that she would know – she doesn't talk to any other hunters, so if there really is any gossip floating around about the two brothers, then she would be the last to know. Still, his words have piqued her interest. Just who exactly is it that she's reluctantly decided to work with?
She had first assumed when they first showed up on her front porch that they were just your regular hunters. Flannel-clad, beer-drinking, gun-blazing men out for revenge or who simply enjoyed the thrill of the hunt. But now? After hearing Gordon's words? She figures that she might have to give Ellen a call at some point and get some more information on the Winchesters. Clearly, there are a few stories to be told.
"You seem to know a lot about our family," Dean comments, dragging Alex out of her thoughts.
"Well, word travels fast. You know how hunters talk."
Alex quietly scoffs. Isn't that the fucking truth.
It seems Dean doesn't share the same sentiments. "No, actually, we don't."
"I guess there's a lot that your Dad never told you, huh?"
The brothers remain silent at this, and Alex swears that she sees a flicker of anger take hold of Dean's serious features, but it vanishes before she can be sure.
"So, I take it that you guys are here because of the vamps?"
"Unfortunately," Alex manages to bite out when neither of the two brothers answers, clearly too wrapped up in Gordon's previous words about their father to answer this new question. The hairs on the back of her neck stand on end when Gordon's eyes flicker to her, but she finds it within herself to continue, "Thought it was a bunch of cultists until we checked the heads at the hospital."
"Those were yours, right?" Sam asks.
"Yeah. I've been here for two weeks. There's still a few more in the area though."
"Did you check the Barker farm?"
"It's a bust, just a bunch of hippie freaks. Though, they probably could kill you with that patchouli smell alone."
"So, where's the nest then?" Dean asks.
Alex expects Gordon to launch into the details of the hunt and what he has managed to find out so far, but to her surprise, he only chuckles and gives a small shake of his head. "I've got this one covered. Thanks anyway though."
Too caught up in the flicker of relief that ignites within her at Gordon's dismissal, Alex doesn't bother to consider why exactly it is that he's reluctant to share this case. The brothers on the other hand, particularly Dean, on the other hand, exchange looks of uncertainty and confusion, which doesn't go unnoticed by the hunter in front of them.
"Look don't get me wrong. It's a real pleasure meeting you guys. But I've been on this thing for a year."
Sam raises a brow. "A whole year?"
"Yep. I killed a fang back in Austin and then I tracked the nest all the way up here. I'll finish it."
Music to her ears, Alex shoves the knife safely inside the pocket of her coat and offers Gordon a bright, fake smile. "Great. Best of luck to you then," she says, before moving to make an escape back down the alley. She barely makes it three steps, however, before Dean immediately reaches out and pulls her back by the sleeve of her jacket but is quick to draw his hand back when she jerks out of his grasp and sends an angry elbow his way.
"We can help," he insists, sidestepping out of Alex's reach.
"Thanks, but uh, I'm kind of a 'go it alone' type of guy."
"Good for you," Alex says through grit teeth, not really caring if she comes across as rude. The brothers made her a promise, but it looks like Dean's seconds away from breaking it. It's enough to make her blood boil beneath her skin.
"You heard the man. He's fine. He can handle it. C'mon, guys –"
Either not taking note of her growing agitation, Dean persists, "Look, man, I'm really itching for a hunt."
"Dean," Sam quietly warns, likely picking up on Alex's growing frustration. The one-worded reprimand is enough to ease her temper somewhat, however, as it truly seems that he has every intention of keeping the promise that he had made to her earlier in the hospital. It's surprising – a part of her had truly believed that he would simply follow along after his brother – and while unexpected, it's enough to make her relax. Slightly.
Dean shoots a glare Sam's way, but it seems that Gordon still won't relent. "Well, I hear that there's a Chupacabra case two states over," he says. "Go ahead and knock yourselves out. I can handle the rest of the vamps."
Dean purses his lips, and Alex half expects him to try and argue once more, but Sam jumps in before his brother can.
"Well, good luck."
"Thanks, man." Gordon grins before letting out a soft chuckle. "It was damn good meeting you guys. I'll buy you a drink on the flip side."
And with that, he offers them one last wave before striding past them and disappearing around the very same alley that he had followed them down, not looking back as he goes.
The moment that he's gone, Alex rounds on Dean with an angry snarl. "What the actual hell was that?"
"Oh, relax," he dismisses. "He didn't want our help in the end, alright?"
"That's not the bloody point!"
"She's right, Dean," Sam says, surprising Alex as he comes to her aid. It stuns her to silence, and allows him to continue, "We promised that we weren't going to work with him."
"Look, the guy is well and truly out of his league. One or two vamps? Sure, no problem. But a nest? That's a whole other story. He's gonna get himself killed."
"He seems to be doing alright so far!"
"He needs our help," Dean insists. "And if we let him go off and deal with those vamps himself, then we're signing his fucking death warrant." Alex rolls her eyes and even Sam gives a disapproving shake of his head at his brother's words. "Look, we'll just follow him and hang back unless he needs our help –"
Alex spits out a humourless laugh, casting her eyes to the sky above. Unbelievable. She should have known that he would try to do this. Play it off as looking out for the guy and wanting to make sure that he's OK, but secretly wanting to work with him anyway. Fuck, he had openly admitted to it when he had practically begged Gordon to allow them to help him. She should have trusted her gut on this, but like the complete and utter moron that she is, she hadn't.
"You know what? Do whatever the fuck you want. I'm going back to the motel."
"Alex, wait –"
"It's fine, Sam," she snaps, even though they both know that it is far from being fine.
He watches her with desperation clouding his features as if he knows that his brother has crossed the point of no return and that there would be no working together if they did, in fact, take off after Gordon. That when they returned to the motel later that night, she wouldn't be there.
Her mouth hardens. "You guys do whatever you think it is that you need to do, but I won't have any part of it. I'll see you back at the motel."
And with that, she takes off down the alley, not looking back at the brothers as she goes.
Unfortunately, she had caught a ride with the Winchesters when they had first made their way to the bar earlier in the night, meaning that she has no choice but to walk back to the motel. Teeth chattering as the cool air nips at her skin, she marches along the streets at a quickened pace, both in an attempt to keep herself warm and to try and burn off the anger that lingers from everything that had happened back in the alley. Thankfully, no one tries to approach her as she hurries forward (not that they would want to with the angry glare etched on her face) and she reaches her motel room in just over fifteen minutes.
She leans back against the door once she's slammed it shut, letting out a long, drawn breath as she reaches up to weave her fingers through her dark hair. Taking a moment to try and contain the anger that threatens to seep through her like wildfire, her eyes dart to her unpacked bag on the bed.
It could be that simple. Pack her bags. Take off in the middle of the night, with no explanation. Don't look back. Quick. Simple. Easy. She could be long gone before the brothers get back to the motel, and something tells her that they wouldn't bother tracking her down a second time. She would never have to deal with them again.
She's tempted. Oh, how she's tempted to hit the road and not look back.
But, surprisingly enough, it is thoughts of Sam that stop her from surging forward and doing just that.
The younger Winchester brother had been reluctant to break the promise that he had made to her, and it was clear back in the alley that he disapproved of Dean doing just that. She can remember the desperation written plainly on his face as clear as day as she had walked away, and it's enough for the small, nagging voice in the back of her mind to remind her that while Dean is on the verge of breaking their promise, Sam is not. It would be almost unfair to punish Sam for not being able to control his brother.
That, and there was still the matter of Yellow Eyes lurking somewhere out there, waiting for the right moment to kill her.
She shivers, lurching away from the door to throw herself onto the bed instead, her hand blindly reaching out for a worn hoodie to throw over herself. Once settled, her hand sneaks into the back pocket of her jeans where she pulls out her phone and brings up an all too familiar number, her fingers quickly typing out a message;
'Do you know anything about Gordon Walker?'
The reply back from Ellen is almost instantaneous. 'Yeah, he stops by the Roadhouse every now and again. He's a good hunter, from what I've heard. Why?'
A bitterness clings to her at the reassuring words across the screen, and it takes everything within her to bite back a sigh. 'We've run into him while working a job here in Montana. The Winchesters are working with him now."
Not even thirty seconds later, her phone starts to vibrate in her hand and Ellen's name flashes across the screen. Alex answers the call immediately. "Yeah?"
"The Winchesters are working with Gordon Walker?"
Alex raises a brow at the edge to Ellen's tone, and slowly pulls herself upright into a sitting position. "Yeah. Kind of."
"Tell them to stop."
"What? Why?"
"He's dangerous, honey. To everything and everyone around him. He's a damn good hunter but…"she sighs. "Look, just tell the boys to let him deal with whatever it is that they're dealing with and be done with him."
Alex scoffs. "Even if I did, Ellen, what makes you think that they'll listen to me? They trust me about as far as they can throw me."
She pauses, a frown tainting her lips. Actually, she was a hell of a lot smaller than the two of them, Sam especially. Sitting at just over five feet and three inches compared to their towering six feet plus god knows what and their broad builds, chances are they probably couldthrow her in some capacity.
"Dean Winchester is quite possibly one of the most stubborn assholes that I've ever met, and he's itching for a hunt. There's no way he's backing out now, especially if I say so."
Hell, it would probably spur him on even more.
"Put them on the phone, I'll talk to them."
"You can't – there out hunting some vampires with Gordon right now."
Ellen swears quietly under her breath and momentarily goes silent on the other end of the line. In the background, Alex can hear the sound of glasses clinking, choruses of laughter, some old rock song and the sound of billiard balls being knocked around. At this time on a Saturday night, Alex knows that the Roadhouse is likely filled to the brim with hunters. Once upon a time, she had been one of them.
But that was a long time ago now.
"Well, when they come back, tell them that I said to give me a call, OK? The last person that they want to be dealing with is Gordon Walker."
Alex wants to remark that she didn't really think that the man that they had easily cornered in the alleyway was really that much of a threat - the three of them had managed to well and truly catch him off guard and overpower him, after all - but she swallows the words before they have the chance to form on her tongue. Ellen was one of the few people left in this world that she wholeheartedly trusts, so if she says that Gordon is bad news, then Alex believes her.
"OK, I will. Thanks, Ellen."
"How's everything else going? You three got any leads on that Yellow-Eyed demon of yours?"
It takes everything within Alex not to flinch. "Not yet. We were looking at some possibilities before we found this case, but there's nothing really concrete to go on."
"Well, if you need anything at all, don't be afraid to swing by the Roadhouse. Ash might be able to work something out with his computers, look for any leads. And Jo would be keen to see ya again."
A fond smile ghosts Alex's lips at the mention of the youngest Harvelle, who she has grown to love just as much as she does Ellen over the past few years. She had explicitly told the brothers that Ash and the Harvelles were the only hunters that she was willing to work with – maybe it wasn't such a bad idea for her to try and convince the brothers to make a stop at the roadhouse sometime in the near future.
That is if she stays with them after the shit they pulled tonight.
"I'll try – thanks, Ellen. Hopefully, we'll see you soon."
"Look after yourself, Honey. And don't forget to tell those boys what I said about Gordon Walker."
"Will do." And with that, she promptly hangs up the call and tosses the phone to the side, before throwing herself back so that she lays flat on the bed once more.
Pack your bags. Go. Stay. Don't look back. Give them a chance. Run. Stay alive. Go. Stay.
She sighs, reaching up to pinch the bridge of her nose as she squeezes her eyes shut as if to ward off the countless jumbled thoughts running rampant in her mind. Every instinct in her body is screaming for her to take off and run, just like she has done in the past, but her mind reasons that there's only so far she could get. She might be escaping from the Winchesters if she takes off now, but eventually, it would be Yellow Eyes that would catch up with her. And that's an ending that she sure as hell would like to avoid.
Pack your bags. Go. Stay. Don't look back. Give them a chance. Run. Stay alive. Go. Stay, stay…
She must have dozed off because the next time she opens her sleepy eyes, there's a knock on her motel door. Blinking at the clock on the bedside table, she sees that she's been asleep for an hour. Groaning, it takes everything within her to pull her heavy limbs off the bed and move towards the door, which opens just a crack so that she can peer out and see exactly who it is.
To her surprise, Sam waits for her on the other side. It would be impossible for Alex to miss the clear relief that flashes across his face when his hazel orbs lock with her brown ones.
"Hey," he greets her before she can say anything. "I was – I just wanted – I, I was just wondering if you were still here, is all."
"Clearly I am," she mutters. There's no real bite to her tone as she speaks, but remnants of her brief sleep still cling to her tightly for Alex to be anything but blunt.
Sam smiles. "Can I come in? Just for a bit?"
Rubbing at her eyes, she pulls the door all the way back before she has time to think about it and refuse him. It's mostly Dean that she's pissed off at, she has to remind herself. Not necessarily Sam.
He thanks her as he moves into the room, looking around as Alex closes the door shut behind him before they simultaneously turn around to face one another. Crossing her arms over her chest, she leans back against the door.
"Where's your brother?" She coolly asks.
"Ah…" Sam reaches up to scratch awkwardly at the nape of his neck. "He's with Gordon."
Alex scoffs and gives a small shake of her head. Go figure.
"We followed him out to the Mill on the edge of town. He was fighting off a vamp. It was going in for the kill, but we managed to save him just in time. They're uh, they're out having a drink back at the bar now."
She gives a tight nod of her head. She hadn't asked – nor really wanted – the details of their time spent hunting with Gordon, let alone the fact Dean was out there with him right now having a drink and most likely working the case with him. The last thing she wants is a reminder of the promise that Dean doesn't really give two shits about breaking. So, she moves away from the door to turn around and open it, a bitter farewell beginning to form on her tongue –
"I kind of figured that you would be long gone by now."
Alex freezes, her hand hovering over the doorknob and feeling somewhat caught off guard by his words. She doesn't immediately answer, which gives Sam the chance to hastily add, "I mean, not that I'm not glad you're here, but I just thought … after everything that happened back there with Dean and Gordon, you would take off."
She sighs, lowering her hand and turning to look at him over her shoulder. "Thought about it."
"But you're still here."
"Where else could I go?" Yellow Eyes would just catch up with me.
The latter part goes unspoken, but she knows from the look on Sam's face that he knows exactly what it is that she's thinking. As much as she hates to admit it, Noah, Ellen, Isla and everyone else who has so far had a say in her current situation is right. She may hate working with them, but she's a lot better off with the Winchesters in the long run.
Sam hums in agreement and gives a slow nod of his head. A brief silence lapses over the two of them and it lasts long enough for Alex to begin awkwardly shuffling her weight from one foot to the other. When it becomes almost too much for her to bear, she opens her mouth to insist that she was tired and wanted to turn in for the night, but for the second time that evening, Sam beats her to it;
"I'm sorry about earlier. We shouldn't have taken off after Gordon."
Her eyes widen at the unexpected apology, but she quickly masks her surprise before Sam can notice. "You're right, you shouldn't have," she coolly agrees. "Not just because of our deal, but because Ellen says that he's dangerous."
"Ellen?"
"She called. I asked her if she knew anything about Gordon, which she did. Said he was bad news."
"Why?!"
"I don't know. She didn't really elaborate – she just said he was dangerous to everyone and everything around him." A brief pause. Then; "Did you find the nest?"
Sam shakes his head. "No. No, it was only one vampire at the mill."
Which means that there is every possibility that the Winchesters will continue to work with Gordon until the rest of the nest is found and eliminated. Alex doesn't bother to conceal the harsh look that seeps onto her face at the mere thought.
Sam must know what it is that she's thinking, as he steps forward and quickly assures her, "I'll talk to Dean when he comes back. He said we would only intervene with Gordon if he was in any real danger, and we promised you that we wouldn't work with any hunters. And if Ellen says that he's bad news …" he trails off with a shrug. "We'll leave town first thing in the morning."
For the second time since arriving at her door, Sam surprises Alex with his words. There is a part of her that had genuinely believed that when they returned to the motel, the Winchesters would tell her that in the end, they couldn't uphold their part of the deal. That the price of not being able to work with other hunters is too steep, and they had to go their separate ways. Even if she had thought that Sam was reluctant to break the deal between them, then she would have assumed that he would have followed along with whatever it was that Dean decided, him being the big brother after all.
And yet, here Sam stands, willing to uphold his end of the deal in order to keep working with her.
She frowns. He must really want this Yellow-Eyed fucker dead if he is desperate to keep her of all people around. She knows that hasn't been the easiest person to be around and if she was in the brother's shoes, then she would probably tell herself to fuck off by now.
But then again, Yellow Eyes had killed their father – Dean had confirmed this as much the night that they had helped her save Noah from Duke and the rest of the demons. The brothers are out for revenge – they probably have a burning need for it. In fact, she knows that they do.
Because once upon a time, she had harboured similar feelings.
"Can I ask you something?"
Sam's words pull her from her troubled thoughts and make her realise that she has been standing still and silent for God knows how long, getting lost too far in her mind to remember that Sam is still in front of her. Blinking, she looks up to see that Sam is looking at her curiously, his head tilted to the side and causing his longer chestnut strands to fall in front of his eyes.
"You just did."
The smart-ass comment flies from her mouth before she can stop it – it's a force of habit at this point, really – but Sam only offers her the tiniest of amused smiles in return.
"I'm going to ask you something else then," he says. "You don't work with hunters, but you happily call up Ellen Harvelle for advice. Why?"
Out of everything that he could have asked, she hadn't been expecting that. Suddenly feeling very tired and having the urge to sit down, she makes a beeline for the bed and sinks down on the soft mattress. Sam moves to follow beside her, only hesitating when he reaches the end of the bed. When Alex doesn't reprimand him for getting too close, he slowly sinks down beside her, keeping a wide girth between them, however.
"I've known Ellen for years," she explains. "She's been a friend of my family since we first moved here to the States."
She'd been more than just that. Ellen had been like a second mother to Alex, and nowadays, was someone that Alex would turn to for advice on things that she may not be able to talk to Noah about. If Alex didn't have Noah, then her only other parental figure – and the only other adult older than her that she would fully trust – would be Ellen. She doesn't say this to Sam, however, not quite willing to share that much with him just yet.
"If there's one person that I can count on, then it's her," Alex slowly continues. "So if she says that this Gordon is bad news, then I believe her."
"I'm not doubting that," Sam says. "And I believe her too. I just – I don't know. I guess I'm just trying to figure out who it is that we can and can't work with. Is there anyone else?"
Alex gives a firm shake of her head.
"Right. But you agreed to work with us?"
It's a question, not a statement. Thankfully, it's a lot more of an easier question for her to answer. "You saved my uncle – figured I kind of owe you. That, and I'd rather kill this thing before it manages to kill me first."
"And you have no idea why it wants you dead?"
She shakes her head, her eyes dropping to the floor. "That's the million-dollar question," she quietly replies. "You're after it because of what it did to your Dad, right?"
She hears him swallow loudly beside her. When he speaks, his voice is thicker with emotion. "Pretty much. But um, it's a lot more complicated than that. It killed our Mom when I was just a baby."
Alex flinches, having not expected this. It was one thing to lose a father to this thing, but their mother as well? No wonder they want to find it and kill it so much. So much loss at the hands of one, evil demon. Turns out she may have more in common with the Winchesters than she originally thought.
"Our Dad spent our whole lives hunting this thing. He would drag Dean and I across the country, trying to track this thing down –"
Her brows crease. "Wait, what?"
"Hm?"
"You're telling me that your Dad dragged you around everywhere looking for this thing, even when you guys were kids?"
Sam nods. "Dean and I – our Dad raised us to be hunters."
Something sticks uncomfortably within her at his words, and it causes a pile of unease to form in the pit of her stomach. The idea of children being raised so closely in the hunting world just screams wrong to her. Children should be kept as far away from the supernatural world as humanely possible, yet the Winchesters had been involved in it – trained in its ways – their entire lives?
She had known about the Supernatural world her whole life, thanks to her family. She had been born into a family of hunters, but she hadn't been born one. She had been given the chance at a normal life growing up – or as normal as it could get with a powerful demon chasing her for almost her entire life – and wasn't allowed anywhere near a hunt until she was eighteen years old. The idea of starting any younger truly horrifies her, and she can't believe that Sam is sitting here telling her that that is exactly what he was forced to do.
"I know," Sam says, picking up on her obvious distaste at his revelation. "I know. Not the most conventional childhood, but after Mom died … I don't know, it really messed our Dad up. He was never really the same afterwards. Or so Dean tells me. I don't really remember anything before Mom. I don't even really remember her."
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Sam shift where he sits, leaning forward so that his elbows are braced against his knees, palms rubbing slightly together almost as if in a comforting manner. Alex can't help but frown. Out of all the ways that her night could have possibly gone, talking to Sam Winchester in her motel room was definitely not on the list. Nowhere near it, in fact.
But what surprises her is that she doesn't necessarily hate it. Normally she would have turned him away without a second thought. Hell, she wouldn't have even let him past the motel door. But he's surprisingly easy to talk to, and he's a hell of a lot more tolerable than his older brother. A lot more. That, and his insistence on still working together and keeping his promise had made it harder for her to slam the door in his face and walk away.
She clears her throat. "I get he was your Dad, and your circumstances were probably harsh and everything, but that's a pretty shity way to raise your kids."
It's blunt and honest (perhaps a little too much so), but Alex has never been one to shy away from speaking her mind. It turns out to be OK, however, as Sam only snorts. "I know. I hated it. The moment I turned eighteen, I was out of there. Tried to put everything behind me and not look back."
"But you obviously did. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here, trying to finish the job."
The faint smile on his face slowly disperses into nothing. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am."
She sighs. It seems to be a predictable problem for a lot of hunters out there; trying to find a way out, only to be dragged back into the game even if it's the last thing that they want to do. Yet, it can happen for a whole lot of different reasons. An obligation to fight for the greater good. The addictive thrill of a good hunt. An all-consuming, hell-burning need for closure or revenge. She can definitely include herself in at least one of these categories. Deep down, Alex knows that she will likely never stop hunting, not until Yellow Eyes is dead at least. Maybe Sam Winchester was the exact same.
"Well, for what it's worth, I'm sorry about your Dad," she says.
Sam sniffs. "Dean's taking it pretty hard," he informs her. "He's always worshipped our Dad and up until just before he died, they went almost everywhere together as well. So, now that Dad's gone…" He sighs. "He won't admit it, but he's really not coping."
Her mind flickers back over the memories of the past week since meeting the Winchesters, trying to go over every moment where John Winchester had been a subject of conversation, only this time, she tries to gauge Dean's reactions. An occasional burst of anger, a few moments of his grief being on display for everyone to read – the occasional pained look, the tension that radiated from him like tidal waves – but wasn't that to be expected? The man had lost his father, after all, and according to Sam, Dean had been close to his father. That would have done nothing to help soften the blow of losing him.
It makes her ill-hatred for him to extinguish slightly. Slightly.
But other than these things, she hadn't noticed anything glaringly obvious that suggested that he wasn't moving through the usual stages of grief. It prompts her to say, "He seems to be doing as well as you can expect, all things considered."
But Sam is shaking his head before she's even finished speaking. "You don't know my brother. He's pretending he's fine, but he's really not. And sooner or later, he's gonna break."
Dean Winchester cracking under the crippling pressure of his grief? Definitely not something that Alex is really keen on witnessing firsthand.
"Probably not a good idea for him to be with psycho Gordon then," Alex comments. "If he's as dangerous as Ellen really says he is…"
"Then it's probably best to keep Dean as far from his as possible," Sam finishes. With a determined nod of his head, he pulls himself off the bed and onto his feet to stand in front of Alex. "I should probably go talk to him then. I'll tell him what Ellen said and bring him back here."
After witnessing his behaviour earlier in the night with Gordon and this hunt, Alex highly doubts that the older Winchester would be keen to leave this case behind him. He hadn't even listened to Gordon when the hunter had insisted that he could handle this case by himself, so was he really going to listen to his younger brother? Especially when it was Ellen's words against what Dean believes? She doesn't voice her concerns out loud, however, as Sam is already making a beeline for the door. She watches as he pulls it open –
And is caught entirely off guard by the bartender from earlier in the night, who sends his fist flying into an unsuspecting Sam's jaw.
Alex yells with surprise and immediately bolts to her feet as Sam stumbles back, but before they have time to react, the bartender steps forward after Sam and sends another punch directly into Sam's face. This time, Sam hits the ground hard with a sickening crack, and he doesn't make a move to get back up.
The bartender pauses to make sure that Sam is definitely out cold, before lifting his head to look at Alex.
She grimaces. "Fuck."
He charges and swings towards her, but she sidesteps out of his reach and backhands him as hard as she can across his face. His head snaps to the side on impact, but he recovers quickly and retaliates with a hard punch of his own. He lands the hit on his face causing her to see stars and stumble back out of his reach. He moves to follow after her and pulls his arm back to swing at her again, but as he shoots it forward she raises an arm to block it. Using that same arm, she twists it around his and uses the opening to slam a fist into his nose.
He howls and pulls back, causing Alex to move after him. Grabbing him by the neck, she pulls him forward and drives her knee up into his stomach and then his face, before then shoving him back. He doesn't go down but curls in on himself, wheezing, and Alex moves after him to pursue her onslaught but stops in her tracks when the man lifts his face and snarls at her, baring his mouthful of fangs that gleam under the motel light.
Vampire.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me –"
He charges and this time, she doesn't move out of the way fast enough. He collides with her hard and the two of them go flying back, Alex landing on the floor with a painful smack. He lands beside her, and she immediately moves to crawl away, but he grabs her by the foot and pulls her back. She blindly starts kicking her leg, praying that she'll land a harsh kick somewhere, hopefully in his stupid fang-filled face.
Her foot connects with something hard, and the pained grunt that echoes from behind her informs her that she was successful. With his grip on her loosening, she pulls herself away and turns around, fully prepared to finish the job -
A second figure moves out of the corner of her eye and by the time she turns around to look at the second vampire that has entered the room, it's too late. A lamp is smashed into the side of her head, and she sprawls onto the ground, heavy and loud. Glass cuts into her skin and her head pounds with the pain of the blow, but she's out like a light before her head even hits the floor.