You've Never Met Someone Quite Like Me

It Will Be

The all too familiar scent of complimentary soaps hung in the air. The motel the boys lead you to was almost comforting. You'd become accustomed to the copy and paste nature of the establishments you found yourself in, giving them a homey feel. It wasn't as if you had a more traditional home to go to anyway. Your parent's house sat vacant as it had for the length of your vigilante career. You hadn't had the strength to visit there, not with the memories still lingering. You stared at yourself in the foggy bathroom mirror, the sounds of your dying family echoing in whispers around the room, just barely audible; the lines on your face, a catalog of each sleepless night since. Sighing, you run your fingers through your wet hair, the strands sticking to your skin. The purple scar on your shoulder glistened in the dim light, an ever-present, ever-itching reminder of your failure as a daughter.

A soft tapping at your door broke your eye contact with the sad girl looking back at you. The troubled thoughts weighed on you as you wrapped yourself in the little white towel provided by the motel and made your way to the door. Taking a deep breath, you opened the barrier between you and the night air, revealing Dean, a smile painted across his face with crinkles around his eyes to match. His attention drifted down your body before he spoke,

"Hey, uh," he paused, letting an airy, uncomfortable laugh escape him, eyes consuming the sight of your bare flesh, "we're about ready to hit the road if you want to join us for a little recon." He gestured towards the room behind you, "Or you can stay here," his gaze met yours, and silence filled the air.

The cool evening air nipped at your damp skin as you considered him for a moment. Standing before you, a head taller, dressed in dark jeans and a heavy leather coat. Maybe it was your rapidly lowering body temperature or maybe, it was the same small voice from your long drive here buzzing excitedly in your head. But a wave of boldness overcame you, and you silently motioned for Dean to enter your room. Without hesitation, he stepped past the threshold. Your heart thundered in your chest as you closed the door, willing your shaking hands to steady. "Do we know what we're after?" you asked, striding across the room, allowing your hips a little extra sway. You could feel his eyes trained on you; as you reached into your duffle bag for a clean pair of clothes, one hand holding the towel closed around your body.

Dean cleared his throat and shifted his weight onto his heels, "We can't be sure yet, but Sammy's thinking it's a vampire nest."

You struggled for a moment to find the specific shirt you had in mind before turning your face to him, "So machetes are the flavor of the night?"

Dean clapped his hands together, "That's what he tells me," an awkward breath shook from his chest. He spun around and faced away from you, a small table between him and the window of your room.

Your boldness consumed you as you let your towel loose from your body. Without thinking, you tossed it into the chair in front of him. His breath hitched, neck twisting slightly towards you before he caught himself and dropped his chin to his chest. He forced a cough and rocked forward on his feet, "It shouldn't take too long to find them," he started, filling the awkward silence.

You slipped into your jeans and clasped your bra around your chest, watching him uncomfortably shift his weight back and forth.

A smile tickled the corners of your mouth, "Sounds fun."

He turned at the sound of your voice, a flame sparking behind his eyes at your shirtless form. He cleared his throat again, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, "Yeah," he responded, his voice deeper now, "It will be."

~

Dean drove the three of you, his facial expression hard in concentration, jaw flexing, chewing something over in his mind. Your view from the back seat allowed you to watch him without having to worry about being noticed. Somewhere in the distance, Sam rattled on about the different cases of disappearances in the area. He was excitedly explaining how he'd decided where you would be looking first. You could hardly hear him over your blood coursing through your veins, each flex of Dean's jaw flooding you with warmth. It will be, he'd said. The look in his eye had been mischievous, threatening almost, and you allowed yourself these moments of distraction before you'd have to focus on the beheading of monsters. Never an easy task. Though they were blood-thirsty and deadly, they still appeared human. That had taken a while for you to get used to; the more human a creature seemed, the harder it was to remember the danger they posed to the world.

Dean brought the impala to a slow stop, interrupting your thoughts.

You hadn't noticed the trip taking you onto a lonely dirt road, "Where are we?" You asked, scanning the area for any unwelcome movement. Towering trees skewing your view, casting shadows across the path.

"A few bodies have turned up in this area," Sam answered, opening his door, "There's supposed to be a small hunting cabin out here."

You laughed to yourself and followed suit. A hunting cabin was ironic, considering the events ahead of you. "Ok. So are we walking the rest of the way?" You followed Sam to the trunk of the car. He opened it and pulled the floor up to reveal a cache of weapons.

"Yeah. It'll be easier to get the jump on 'em," Dean answered your question, his breath ghosting over your neck as he reached around you and into the trunk to grab a machete. You shivered.

Sam handed you a weapon of your own, slid a gun into his waistband, and started in long strides down the remainder of the dirt road. You weighed it in your hand and stepped to follow him, stopped, to your surprise, by Dean's hand on your waist. The heat of his touch was intoxicating; you leaned into it, turning your face to his.

His expression was dark, "Listen," he whispered, his face just inches from yours, "if things get ugly, I want you to get out of there. Meet us back here. Sammy and I can handle it."

You nodded, chewing your bottom lip, "I will, but don't worry about me. This isn't my first rodeo," you whispered back.

Dean studied your face for a moment, lingering on your lips, "Promise me," he demanded.

You promised him, and he released you, following Sam into the dark. The skin on your lower back throbbed as you trotted after him, shaking the intensity of his expression from your mind. If you were going to be helpful, you couldn't afford to be distracted.

~

You found Sam crouched behind a beat-up car outside the cabin. Light trickled through the glass on the door, voices drifting through the brisk air. "If you guys go in the front, I'll go around back," he whispered.

Dean grunted in agreement and took your hand, gently pulling you behind him up to the front porch. You were careful not to make any floorboards creak under your weight, positioning yourself opposite Dean beside the door. He held your gaze, lips pinched together in anticipation, waiting for Sam to get into position. The unbroken eye contact was all but too intense for you, light from inside the cabin making the green of his irises glow.

You nodded, reassuring him you were ready for whatever was behind the door, and he grinned. In one fluid motion, he spun and kicked the door open. The crash of the door took the five bodies inside by surprise.

Everything after happened quickly; the vampires threw themselves in all directions, desperate to get away. Sam burst through the back door, machete extended threateningly. The beasts had nowhere to go. You stood firmly behind Dean, watching Sam corral the vampires into the main of the room, blocking their escape.

"We haven't done anything," one hissed. It was a large male, standing bravely in front of Dean, his arms stretched behind him, protecting a petite female vampire. "We just want to live in peace."

"You call dragging people from bars and leaving them for dead in the woods, peace?" Sam asked, pointing at the vampire with his machete.

The vampire's eye bounced back and forth between the boys, "That wasn't us, man," he whined, anxiety bubbling in his voice, "We just got here. We haven't even had the chance to feed yet. Have we, baby?" He asked his companion. She shook her head vehemently.

One of the other vampires inched closer to Dean, taking advantage of the focus being on his nest-mate.

"I swear it wasn't us," the speaker for the house insisted, "We're just passing through."

"Yeah," the female added, "If you let us go, we promise we won't hurt nobody."

Dean stood silent for a minute, assessing the situation, "Yeah," he said, "But what happens when you get to another town? Who will you kill there?"

The vampire's exchanged glances before the one closest charged you. You inhaled deeply through your nose and watched him rush closer, the adrenaline in your veins causing him to move in slow motion. Without hesitation, you brought your machete up over your head and swung down, cleaving his head from his shoulders. It rolled across the ground, face frozen in a panicked expression; his body followed, thudding heavily to the floor. Dean caught your eye, the familiar spark in them burning full force. You nearly blushed under its intensity.

"I'm sorry, guys. But this looks like the end of the line," he said, turning back to face the other four vampires, "You might as well get your goodbyes in now."

The male vampire turned to his mate and commanded her to run before lunging at Dean, but Dean wouldn't be so easily caught off guard, effortlessly tossing the monster to the side. The female ran full force at Sam, stopping abruptly as her head rolled off her shoulders. A strangled cry filled the air, spurring the other two vampires into action. Both threw themselves at Sam, knocking him back. You found your feet racing across the room to Sam's aid, driving your weapon deep into the back of one while Sam wrestled with the other. You knew it wouldn't kill it, but being stabbed hurt like a b***h no matter who you were. The vampire fell to its knees, hands grasping the blade poking out of its chest; a gurgled sob falling from its mouth.

Sam threw his attacker across the room, its body crashing into the wall and falling limp to the ground. You were distracted just long enough for the vampire to tear your machete from your hands; with it still sticking out of his back, he turned to you and threw his weight into you, knocking you to the ground. You grunted at the impact, using your arms to hold him above you, frantically trying to keep your blade from sinking into your chest. It struggled above you, roaring, pointed teeth bared. You were startled by a thump, and a lifeless head rolled toward you, eyes empty. Before you had time to register what was happening, the vampire flew off of you.

Dean stood tall over you, weapon drawn back; darkness hung over his face, "Are you ok?"

"Yeah," you answered, quickly rising to your feet.

Dean stepped forward and brought his blade down heavily, separating the vampire from its head. The body fell limp, devoid of life. Dean bent down and pulled your machete from its back, "You dropped this," he said, flipping your weapon in the air and handing it to you by the blade.

You shrugged and took it from him carefully, turning just in time to see Sam relieve the last vampire of life.

"Well," you exhaled heavily, brushing your hair back with your free hand, "That sucked."