Nocturne

The last time they’d seen one another had been out of chance, just like this, but then it had been further from home, instead of practically on Christian’s doorstep. Alix purposefully avoided glancing back over her should to see if there was any sign of Dean. If he was here he’d have been hovering over Sam instead of leaving him to …

Red brows drew together, concern biting deep at the scent of blood on the air. There was a strong tang of it on the air, enough that she suspected it came from the hunter himself rather than anything else. Maybe that meant he wasn’t there to try and dig into what the police believed was a missing person’s case – perhaps a group of them given that Sofia hadn’t left any of her victims alive that night to return home. If she hadn’t known what had gone down that night, maybe she’d have been sticking her nose in to that sort of thing, but she’d been there, she’d seen what Christian had been forced to do to the woman he loved to save the lives of everybody Sofia would’ve killed afterwards. She’d justify everything he had done that night, would protect him from anyone that would turn on him for that, and that included the Winchesters if need be.

Now it seemed as though Sam might be the one to need that protection, even if it was from himself. Dean had told her that Sam was free of what had been in him, but that left a whole continent of mental real estate for Sam to be lost in. She knew what it was like to be cut adrift in that state, the raw nerves, the lack of trust you could put in yourself, and in everybody else. It left Alix slowing down as she got close enough to Sam to be able to take a proper look at him in the dark. No obvious wounds, although she could still smell that tang of blood on the air as he picked up the trash can.

One corner of her mouth kicked up, although the smile that emerged was tight. At his best Sam wouldn’t have ended up lost. The Winchesters were better trained than that. Training had a tendency to go out the window when you felt the ground crumble under you though. ”I guess we all get a little clumsy from time to time,” she drawled, coming to a stop. ”Especially when we’re poking around in the dark.” And when we were bleeding, not that she did for more than a single heartbeat now, unless someone got real careful about what they used on her.

Green eyes dropped to where he had a hand clamped on his hip. She wasn’t shy about the incredulous look she shot him when he met her eye. Alix flicked a finger towards him, lips pursing faintly. ”You didn’t hurt yourself when you tripped, did you?” Not less the trash can was wrapped in razor wire, which it definitely wasn’t. She smelled more than blood – bullshit was starting to stink on the air.

A couple of slow steps forward and Alix was crossing her arms over her chest, the part of her that had been on high alert when she’d heard the trash can tip beginning to settle into a sense of unease. Sam wasn’t out and out lying to her yet, but he seemed to be heading that way and she didn’t like it. ”What are you working on? I didn’t know much how gone down out here – and trust me, I’ve been keeping an eye on what’s happened in town – I guess I missed something if you’re out here though.” Out here and bleeding. The shiver that ran down her spine had her arms tightening subtly around her. Not enough yet to have those alarm bells shrieking in her head, but creeping up again certainly.

Tagged: SAM WINCHESTER * Word Count: 654

Being just down the block from where Sofia had turned her marital home into a bloodbath, down the block from where Christian had been forced to kill the monster his wife had become, when she’d run into Sam hadn’t put her on edge, but it wasn’t helping. Alix felt the tension sink into her bones, leaving her feeling as though they would shatter if the situation suddenly flipped and this turned out to be a fight to Christian from the ripples still being tossed out by what Sofia had done.

Sam didn’t seem any less tense. He’d been covering his tracks when she’d arrived, picking up the trash can he’d knocked over, settling a hand on the wound he was hiding like not being able to see the splotches of blood soaking through would make it invisible. They’d both been partially busted and were both hovering on that brink of reluctance to admit to the circumstances that left them skulking around town in the dark. Eventually one of their stories was going to start developing cracks, breaking the deadlock and given the scent on the air, Alix was going to put her money on Sam.

At seven she’d held the IV bag for an hour while their mom had sewn up a gash that had run from Rohan’s stomach almost clean up to his throat – a shapeshifter’s attempt at ridding itself of its hunter problem by gutting the one that had stabbed it through the shoulder – fingers smeared with her brother’s blood trembling by the end. Five years later she’d had to put her fingers in the vampire bite wound that had taken a chunk of flesh from her dad’s shoulder to put direction pressure on a torn blood vessel that was painting the roof of their car in scarlet arcs. She wasn’t afraid of blood, didn’t recoil from it, not even when something inside of her knew the taste of it.

Amusement tugged at her lips for just a moment, but then fell away. Sam had seen just as much blood as she had, he’d likely patched up his family just as often as she had done hers. ”I was gonna say that you were always tougher than that.” Skinned knees and minor gashes were nothing to a hunter, something to be splashed under some water and wrapped up in a dirty rag if you were lucky. ”Nothing that’s making you bleed like a stuck pig. It’ll heal better if you let me look at it.” Let being the operative word. Whatever had happened here probably meant that it wasn’t a good idea to be standing around chit chatting for too long.

Him dropping his hand away from her side and her getting closer wasn’t revealing any more about it. Sam was being stubbornly quiet, she wasn’t exactly being talkative – although if it hadn’t meant bringing Christian into all of this she might’ve been. At the very least Sam wasn’t being combative. Hey, that might actually have been a joke. Alix’s grin brightened, her head tilting. ”Some of us are just talented like that.” It still wasn’t like him to be clumsy though.

Green eyes narrowing, Alix glanced at the houses either side of where they were. Small case, not surprising, the town was full of them, but one happening this close to Christian’s place rang as odd again. ”They’re like paper cuts, it’s always the small ones that’ll get you,” she agreed. ”Did you get it wrapped up? Or should I be looking for more trouble out here. What was it anyway?” She was being nosy, but the sooner she could disconnect the two things in her head, the sooner she’d feel a little more at ease. There was trouble enough between her and Christian as it was, she didn’t want to bring more to his door.

Tagged: SAM WINCHESTER * Word Count: 639

She couldn’t exactly call him a liar, could she? Alix let her gaze slide back down to where the blood had subtly darkened the fabric of Sam’s shirt. He had staunched it, even if he’d done a piss poor job of it so far. Hunters usually dealt with these things themselves, acting as though sepsis wasn’t gonna come calling at some point. She’d tried the same argument when Rohan had carried her out of the factory, her blood spilling hot down his side, her arm hanging lax and cold and so useless that it had terrified her. ’I’m f-fine’ chattered out between her teeth. There was no patching her up at the motel, it had been a rush to the closest emergency room with tears shining in her brother’s eye the whole way.

He probably wasn’t wrong again, this wasn’t that, Sam wasn’t at real risk with this … not unless he did get hit with something insidiously nasty like an infection. One corner of Alix’s mouth tipped up, her smile turning wry. ”That’s not exactly reassuring.” But she wouldn’t push for details of the rest. There were some things she knew she was better off not dwelling on. ”You were stabbed? Jesus, Sam. You definitely need to let me look at it.” She’d twist his arm if she had to, marching that Yeti like form all the way back to her truck. Taking him back to the warehouse wasn’t an option the way it would’ve once been. She would have to tell Christian the truth about how she’d found him and the fact that it had been so close to his house would only spark that wildfire of fear again.

The small reassurances had her grunting in resignation. For the minute she wouldn’t drag him out of there – since he was in no immediate danger – but she wouldn’t stop badgering him about it afterwards. There were few enough people she had to rely on as it was, she wouldn’t let another slip out of her life because she’d caved too quickly to that mulish Winchester attitude. That stubbornness ran bone deep, clamping down impossibly tight on the idea that they could let anybody else in one things.

Alix frowned as Sam ducked her question now. He wasn’t even about to give her the basics on what he’d been dealing with. That left a shiver working its way down her spine. She glanced over her shoulder, as though it would reveal trouble standing there, breathing down the back of her neck. Crossing her arms over her chest, she almost folded in around the vital parts of herself, some sort of primitive self-preservation kicking in.

His question almost had her glancing up the street at the house she’d just walked out of. There was a good chance Sam hadn’t seen her leave the place. She could bullshit over it, tell him it involved any other place around here, any sort of creature. The possibility of it burned in her throat until she shrugged and lifted her chin vaguely in the direction she’d come. ”I was checking on a friend. He’s … had some trouble lately. I thought maybe you were checking on the same thing. I guess not though, cold cases don’t exactly come with knife wielding … whatever it was you were dealing with.” She drew a deep breath in, her frown deepening as she decided to open up at least a little. ”I’m guessing it wasn’t a vampire who did that. They don’t tend to go for weapons. Have you heard anything about them lately though? There was an attack at the hospital quite a while back. A nurse got hurt…” Sofia hadn’t just been hurt, she’d been turned. It had sparked off an avalanche of tragedy that had almost swallowed Christian whole. Even now she wasn’t sure that he’d entirely crawled out of those icy tomb of grief.

Tagged: SAM WINCHESTER * Word Count: 650

Dean she might’ve been able to take down without much fuss, but even without the extra juice that might’ve been in Sam’s veins, a guy his size might’ve still proved a bit of a challenge. Super strength let you kick all sorts of ass, but when you were holding back, size still threw in some sort of an advantage – and she would hold back, Sam knew it just as well as she did. Alix puffed out a breath, shaking his head as she looked up at him. It wasn’t funny, worrying more like, but her smile finally inched towards something that might’ve been more recognisable as one. ”Try harder,” she said dryly. He had the good sense to try and dial back the laughter at least, stopping when it obviously hurt – something not all knucklehead hunters did. Alix held her hands up between them, warding off his warning. ”No judgment, not even an I told you so.” She suspected she’d have to bite her tongue to make that true, but it wouldn’t be the first time she’d had to.

Worry always loosened your tongue in the end. You might strap it down for the minute, but when you cared the words eventually broke free. She’d still been in a hospital bed, her shoulder swathed in bandages, her mind equally fogged with the painkillers they’d filled her to the eyeballs with. Why didn’t you let one of us help? She hadn’t been able to answer him then and Alix doubted Sam would have any more of an explanation for her now. ”I wouldn’t have said demon either,” she admitted, although that thin veneer of concern was back in her eyes over the stumble in his words. Dean had said that Sam was free of Lucifer, but not physically being possessed anymore didn’t mean that you didn’t been able to excise every bit of something. Ralphy’s continued presence in her thoughts was proof of that.

Alix crossed her arms over her chest, feeling the chill run up her spine, like just thinking of him was gonna have him reappearing like some evil genie, launching himself straight into what she’d rebuilt of her life to tear it down to its foundations again. She imagined that Lucifer was the same way for Sam, the evil that crept back into his life every time he thought he was on steady ground again, sitting like the proverbial devil on his shoulder. Her gaze drifted there, to one broad slab of muscle and bone, her nod short. ”I’m glad.” Not that she wouldn’t want to help him, but Christian already had enough weight on his shoulders, thanks to her.

If Ralphy had been the devil on her shoulder, over the last three years Christian had become the angel. A voice of reason, of calm, of reassurance. No matter how heavily his own life had been torn apart, he’d stayed there, the support she wouldn’t have allowed herself before – shouldn’t have allowed herself while Sofia was still alive. Oh, she’d never be that angel for him, but in any way she could she’d be that support. Watching his back when it came to the cops or other hunters, trying to do something to find closure for him. Her frown eased at Sam’s offer and Alix shook her head. ”Not for now, but thanks.” She wasn’t about to start revealing too much about what had happened. Sam had always been smart and would’ve probably put together what Christian had been forced to do before too long.

Maybe for now he’d be distracted enough not to start connecting all the breadcrumbs that had been scattered by Sofia’s attack and her consequent disappearance. His story started to spill out as hers had stalled, a breath rolling out of her hard. ”An ambush by a spirit?” Likely not. That meant someone who knew who Sam was, someone who wanted to get him out of the way. Alix’s hands dropped to her sides, tension working its way through her shoulder blades as she fought to ignore the itch that had sprung up between them. ”You took care of whoever did it?” Alix fixed her gaze on his so she wouldn’t start searching the darkness around them.

What had happened at the hospital had passed her by too. Attacks like it were ten a penny in this town, although most didn’t end with a couple losing their unborn child. Sofia’s life hadn’t been the only one snatched away, Christian had suffered two losses and was somehow still on his feet, fighting to make it look like he wasn’t already grieving his wife. ”I guess that happens often enough that nobody blinks at another bag of blood going missing. This was … worse.” Alix shook her head, her lips pressed hard together. ”She was hurt, and she … she was pregnant.” Was being the operative word. ”I’m trying to track down whoever did it. You hear anything more about the hospital, you’ll let me know?” If there’d been anything there at the time the sheriff’s department hadn’t chosen to announce it to Christian. That didn’t mean the trail was gone though.

Tagged: SAM WINCHESTER * Word Count: 856

Rohan had always been the one who’d known exactly what she was thinking when she was a kid. He’d catch one glimpse of her and would be pulling her aside, warning her to keep her head, telling her to wait. God, she’d hated it. There’d been so few ways she’d been able to circumvent any of the rules their parents had put down, because before she’d even had a fully formed thought Rohan would employ that big brother mind reading trick and would stop her from storming in. Dean probably had the same sort of thing with Sam. You learned to read people when you wanted to protect them, and now Sam was pulling the same trick on her.

Alix huffed out a breath, but her lips were curling, her hands twitching in that symbol of surrender. That sort of telepathy ran both ways. ”I know yours too,” she reminded him before she nodded. If he’d got out to the road he probably would’ve seen her truck parked less than a block away. ”We’ll head to mind. I can drop you at yours after, save you from running around and opening that up again.” Because they both knew that whatever Sam had been dealing with wouldn’t be the last fight he’d throw himself into, not even the last he’d handle for a while. This town was full of them and when you were a Winchester every set of those eyes were on you.

Tilting her head back in the direction of the truck, Alix took a half step back. She was gonna be glad to be back at her truck, away from the scene of a crime that was necessary, but could see both her and Christian behind bars if the sheriff learned what had happened in that house. His wife’s case was still that of a missing person, not the sort of homicide that would’ve been splashed across the front of every newspaper if it had just been a husband killing his human wife. The extenuating circumstances would vanish, the only story that emerged the one that Forbes wanted to tell. And Christian…

The thought had a shiver running down her spine even as she saw Sam’s eyes go wide. That sense that they needed to get moving towards her truck only grew. No matter how far apart Sam believed their hunts could be, there was that feeling of connections, like a spider’s web, wrapped around them, sticking as she tried to mentally bat the thought away. Sam was shivering too, she hadn’t read anything into that. All of this was gonna end up being another awkward conversation with Christian afterwards, but he needed to hear it. The good and the bad.

Worry pooled in the pit of her stomach. There was never a peaceful moment in this town, a break for them to catch their breath. It was one nightmare after another and Alix knew she wasn’t the only one swaying with the exhaustion of it all. Relief barely slid through it as Sam sighed and began to explain. ”Shit,” she breathed. Her hands tightened into fists for a moment, that shiver running down her spine again. Lucifer might not have been in the driver’s seat in Sam’s head anymore, but it didn’t mean that Hell was done with him. ”You think they were his demons? That he was coming for you again?” If Sam thought there were more coming, he wouldn’t have stayed here talking with her. That meant they were likely safe for the moment at least, but definitely not in the long run.

All of their problems were hanging around like bad smells – just like the vampire who had turned Christian’s wife and had cost him his unborn child. Just thought of it had her heart aching for him again. So much loss, but Christian was still on his feet, still trying to fight for that greater good. He hadn’t turned away from it after Sofia’s death and he hadn’t turned away from her after she’d revealed what she was. That support ran both ways, she wasn’t going to leave him to handle whatever came on his own, and she wouldn’t tell the bloodiest details of his story. Sam would read beneath the lines well enough to know what he was looking out for.

Reaching out, Alix squeezed Sam’s bicep, a silent thank you. She’d known he would have her back too. He always had done, even if it was gonna get him in trouble in the long run. ”Thanks,” she rasped softly. ”I’d appreciate it. I know they’d both help on this. I’d been keeping the circle small for my friend’s sake. He’s …” New to this. Vulnerable. Still grieving. There were a thousand ways to describe the pain Christian was still in. A thousand ways to say he was a good man who hadn’t deserved any of this.

She nodded at Sam, the corners of her lips curling up in appreciation before her frown started to filter back. What happened when they did get the guy? Would Christian feel steady enough to move on? The thought of the warehouse suddenly being bare of the life he brought there left her shivering again. Alix took another step back. ”We should head to my truck … is there anything else that needs cleaning up here?” The houses were well spread out but two strangers standing around this late at night, chit chatting in the yarn of a house they didn’t belong around was going to start raising eyebrows if someone happened to see them. Folks in this town were on edge far too often now, and neither one of them was going to want anybody looking too closely at what they were actually doing there.

Tagged: SAM WINCHESTER * Word Count: 960

’Bigger! I don’t want to just be mopping up the little messes. Come on, dad, I’m old enough now.

God, what a fool she’d been as a kid. All she’d seen then was her brothers heading out to hunt with their parents, while she’d been told to stay back at the motel with Sam – a plan that had lasted as long as it had taken to convince Sam that though should head out and handle the hunt on their own. More than once she’d accused her dad of doing it just because she was a girl, but her brothers had been handcuffed by the same rules, meant to keep them safe. When she’d eventually been able to head out on that solo hunt she’d almost died from trying to bite off more than she could chew. A year long recovery had seemed like hell, but in comparison to what Sam and Dean had gone through, it was nothing. They had literal hell on their hands, on their tail constantly, demons, like cats, batting at them to get them just where they wanted them.

Alix’s frown deepened as she listened to Sam. The things her family had dealt with had honestly been pedestrian in comparison, those big evils not bothering with them in the grand scheme of things. The Quinns were free – relatively, thanks to Ralphy – to slip through the supernatural world. Not the Winchesters. ”Would they have failed?” she asked, her throat going tighter. Trying hard had already left Sam with his scratch. Maybe that’d be their intention, weaken him just enough, but probably not and it was that doubt that left her wanting to retreat to the warehouse, somewhere defendable against those things in the way that the street wasn’t. She swallowed, shifting her weight, refusing to glance over her shoulder in search of Lucifer himself as Sam cringed away from even thinking about him. ”He didn’t, so we’re gonna count ourselves as lucky.” And keep their mental fingers crossed that this was honestly as bad as it was gonna get tonight.

The return to the warehouse was rapidly twisting away from what she’d imagined – those first few awkward minutes as she and Christian settled into the same space together again, her admission that she’d been to the house perhaps adding to the tension until something would give way and allow them to settle again. Now it didn’t even seem wise to stay out in the street, patching Sam up before she sent him back to the motel. It was better to be away from here and anything that might come looking for the demons Sam had dispatched. If Christian was there, maybe he’d crack the door a little more, letting Sam into the investigation that hadn’t netted them the vampire who’d torn away his family yet.

Knowing it could go two ways, Alix held back most of the details for now. If they were going to come then they’d be Christian’s to pass along. For now having more than two sets of eyes on all of this was going to have to be enough. One corner of her mouth kicked up, her gratitude for Sam’s agreement shining in her eyes. ”It’s appreciated,” she assured him. ”If anything changes with it, I’ll let you all know.” If they ever got lucky enough to take that son of a bitch down, if fate ever decided to shine kindly on Christian again.

If it was a case of earning the karma for it, she’d do everything she could. Patching up an old friend probably wouldn’t balance the scales out too much, but she wasn’t planning on leaving Sam out here, alone and bleeding and neck deep in who knew what sort of hell spawn. She would’ve dragged him straight out of there, but the anchor of those two small words stopped Alix dead. Her gaze shot past him, scanning the darkness until she found some sign of those shadow shrouded forms, sprawled boneless on the ground – right there for anybody to find. Shit. ”Because it wasn’t a clean hunt. They got a little retribution in.” Raising a hand, Alix dragged it through her hair, fisting it at the nape of her neck for a moment as she scrambled through it all. ”I’ll get somebody here to take care of them. Rohan’s in town, he’ll clean this up while I clean you up. How many are there?” He had been the one to take care of Christian’s home on the night he’d had to kill Sofia, making sure there wasn’t a speck of evidence left for the cops to find, while she’d taken Christian back to the warehouse, trying to keep those shattered pieces of him together in the face of unimaginable tragedy.

Tagged: SAM WINCHESTER * Word Count: 791