Selfless // Dean Winchester

24. Summertime

July came quickly. On the Fourth, the trio happened to be in southern California. They drove halfway up a mountain and parked the Impala where it overlooked the city. There, they watched the fireworks.

   After her emotional breakdown in Georgia, Y/N did what she thought was best; shoved her sad feelings down and resolved to not dwell on them. How did Dean put it- "Let's kill some evil sons of bitches and raise a little hell"? Something like that.

   This was good. She could kill monsters.

   However, Y/N was still somewhat new to hunting life. She knew the basics, of course, but she wasn't raised like the boys were. Soon, she came to the realization that she didn't have the knack for it. Ellen and Jo Harvelle had indicated it was especially hard for a woman, but Y/N hadn't realized just how hard.

   First off, the toll it took on her body was disheartening. She'd always been physically fit, but never needed to shove an angry vampire away with her bare hands. She was plagued by weeks of sore muscles before deciding to establish a workout routine.

   Secondly, it was a dirty job. Literally. Y/N was no germaphobe, but she did hate to see her favorite clothes stained with blood and the other muck that pumped through various monsters' veins. Haunted houses had cobwebs. Dark lairs had stinking corpses. She felt like throwing up most of the time.

   The third problem was her hair. When she didn't have the time to braid it before each hunt, it got in the way. It was also easy to pull. Might as well just chop it all off, she thought bitterly. She never got around to that, though.

   There were also things she didn't hate but didn't love, either. Constantly moving around was one of them. Having lived in the same town for over twenty years, it was splendid to see all sorts of new places. Then again, it meant she couldn't get attached to certain things. People like Blake. Objects, like the necklace Dean stole for her to wear to the party. She didn't know why she kept it.

   Other parts of the job came naturally. The lying, for one. Y/N grew to enjoy when they impersonated the FBI, even creating a bit of a backstory for each of her aliases. Agent Courtney Carson had recently visited her sister in London. Agent Miranda Brady had three children back home. Agent Kelsey Thornton was new to the job, having recently quit law school. These fake personal histories made for great small talk.

   Before she knew it, they were well into August. A busy time, as there was a wave of vampire nests in the midwest.

   Dean didn't speak to her very much. He didn't appear to be intentionally ignoring her, but at the same time, he never started a conversation.

   Sam was quiet on the subject of Ali. Y/N guessed he understood the witches were a dead end.

   They were too quiet to talk or spend much time together besides research and interrogations. Saving people, hunting things, and the family business were more important.

____________________________________________________________

   "I found us another case," said Sam, looking over the newspaper.

   Y/N sat up from where she'd been sprawled out in the backseat, trying to fall asleep and failing. Damn Dean's music taste and the blasting Impala speakers. "Where?" she said groggily.

   "Uh, Queens."

   "Thank God," muttered Dean. "I've had enough of small country towns."

   "How do you know it's our kind of thing?" asked Y/N.

   "Three deaths, three days in a row. Strangulation but no way they were suicides. Victims were all well-to-do, and there were no signs of forced entry."

   Dean shot his brother a look. "Queens, huh? You think we'll run into her?"

   Y/N raised an eyebrow, interested. Who was she?

   "Not sure," Sam said bitterly. "Last I heard, Bobby said she was in Arizona, but that was months ago."

   "Well, I hope we do," replied Dean. "The Colt would come in handy right now."

   "Wait, wait, wait," Y/N broke in, wondering if she heard correctly. "The Colt? As in the gun that can kill basically anything? That can kill demons?" She blinked, staring at Dean through the rearview mirror as she waited for his answer.

   "That's the one."

   "I know you two had it at one point, but how the hell do you lose a thing like that?"

   "It was stolen and probably sold," said Dean as if that explained everything.

   "I see." Scenarios of where the Colt could help break Dean's demon deal began to play out in Y/N's mind. "I know someone in that line of work. Y'know, stealing. I'll give Bela a call as soon as we get reception."

   Suddenly, Dean hit the brakes and the Impala screeched to a sudden halt, sending dust up from the gravel on the road around them. "Bela? As in Bela Talbot?"

   Y/N brushed a strand of hair away from her face, shocked by the abrupt stop. "You know her?"

   The boys gave each other another of those meaningful looks that Y/N had no idea what meant.

   "Hello? Do you know her?"

   "Yeah, we know the evil bit-"

   "She's the one who stole the Colt," Sam cut Dean off, turning to face Y/N. "She's screwed us over multiple times."

   "Huh." She tipped her head to the side. I always warned Bela not to go making enemies in the wrong places. But then again, I'm one to talk. I kidnapped John Winchester. "Well, she and I are friends. I can get her to track down the Colt, if you'd like."

   "Hold on a minute," said Dean, blinking. "You're telling me that all this time, we could've got to Bela through you?"

   "It never came up. And it's gotten, not got."

   "Shut up."

   "How close are you and her?" wondered Sam.

   She shrugged. "Besties. She let me stay at her apartment after I left my hometown."

   It began to dawn on Dean. "You're telling me that when I encountered you in Queens last year, we were in Bela's apartment?"

   "I thought you said you didn't find Y/N when you went to look in Queens." Sam turned to his brother, suspicion etched into his face.

   "Oh, he found me," commented Y/N. "He came to kill me. We slept together instead."