Chapter 2: The One That Got Away

It had been a few weeks since the brothers encountered Annie. Sam still felt a sharp pain in his shoulder if he rolled on it at night and Dean refused to think about getting his butt kicked by a 5'5 girl.

The brothers had just returned from an unsuccessful hunt at a nearby asylum. Tired and defeated they sat in their motel room eating another greasy burger and drinking a warm beer.

Sam flips through an old book but his focus wavered as he ate his food "do you ever wonder about Annie?"

Dean scoffs as he cleans his gun, pausing for a fraction of a second before continuing. "Not really" he shrugs.

Sam smirks "come on Dean, she took the two of us down like it was nothing. That doesn't happen every day".

"Speak for yourself, I was just off my game."

Sam scoffs "what and that's why you ended up on your back?"

Dean narrowed his eyes but doesn't bite back. Instead, he leans back in his chair, tossing his gun aside "fine, she was good, I'll give her that. A little too good maybe".

"You reckon she's still out there hunting?" Sam asks.

Dean glances at him, a flicker of something in his eye – curiosity, maybe even concern – but he quickly shakes his head. "Does it matter, she was stubborn as hell, she didn't need anyone. Probably got herself in over her head by now."

"I don't know" Sam frowns "she seemed smart, careful. You don't take down a group of shapeshifters alone without knowing what you're doing."

Dean shifts uncomfortably, the mention of Annie stirring something in him he doesn't want to acknowledge. "Yeah, well good for her, doesn't mean she wasn't a pain in the ass".

Sam studies his brother for a moment then smirks knowingly.

"What?" Dean snaps. "She was headstrong, didn't listen and had that whole lone wolf thing going on. I don't have time to babysit someone who thinks they're invincible".

"I mean" Sam shrugs "she held her own, more than most hunters can".

They fall into silence again but the air between them feels lighter. Sam returns to his book, though he can't help but think about Annie too – the way she moved, the precision in her strikes, the calm confidence that came from years of survival.

For Dean, it's not just her skills that linger on his mind. It's the way she looked at him, unafraid and unapologetic, like she saw through all his walls and didn't care about the cracks underneath. But she was gone and the brothers had bigger things to deal with. At least that's what Dean told himself as he finished his beer and turned his attention back to cleaning his gun.

Somewhere out there, Annie was probably doing the same, completely unaware of the mark she left on the Winchester brothers.

In fact, Annie sat in a dark room at the animal hospital she just broke into. The dogs barks echoed in the background, but she had slipped through the roof in the back room, and she knew no one was around. She winced as she cleaned the wounds on her arm from her most recent hunt. She knew she shouldn't have gone alone. Her arm throbbed and as the alcohol caused her to wince her mind kept flashing back to the restroom where the met the Winchester brothers. Their faces appeared when she shut her eyes at night, and she couldn't shake off this feeling that that wasn't the last time she'd see them.

Sam had a presence about him, quiet but powerful and unlike others he spoke to her like she was a human and not another hunter. Then Dean, tough on the outside but when he grabbed her wrist to stop her leaving, it wasn't out of aggression. It was rare, unspoken care, the kind that made her pause, a reminder that maybe not all hunters were as broken as she had become.

She shook her head as if to shake them out of her thoughts, bit down on the cotton pad and groaned into it as the poured the rest of the alcohol over her arm before securing with a bandage.