【Ａｓｈｅｓ Ｔｏ Ａｓｈｅｓ】

-𝔸𝕟 𝕆𝕗𝕗𝕖𝕣-

Seated upon an old wooden chair with her legs pulled up to her chest as if shielding herself from the group of men unable to take their eyes off of her, (y/n) clears her throat quietly. The sound echoes across the tiled room. Dean, finding that he was growing empathetically uncomfortable while watching the woman awkwardly shift beneath their wary gazes, takes it upon himself to fill the thick silence hanging in the air through the only way he knew how.

Booze

Taking thundering steps towards the rusted fridge in the corner of what (y/n) assumed must have been a kitchen despite the severe lack of food in any of the broken cabinets, the freckled hunter yanks out 4 bottles of beer from the buzzing appliance before slamming the door shut again. Studying him as he moved around the small space, she wondered if the power in his actions were a product of his personality or his size. Before she can answer her own question, Dean returns to the table to offer a drink to the older hunter beside him and slides two more toward the seated pair. Cracking open the bottle in his own hand, the man takes a long swig of the amber liquid.

"Alright, uh-" he begins awkwardly, visibly unsure how to continue, but does so anyway by adding, "I guess we should probably start with names, right?"

"(y/n)." the phoenix answers, too drained to bother lying through the use of one of her many aliases. In truth, she wasn't sure if she would have used one anyway. Her name was one that she was often too proud to hide, no matter the danger it put her in. However, to save herself some time from the beginnings of what she believed to be a somewhat shoddy interrogation, she is swift to casually add, "No need to tell me yours, this isn't the first time we've met."

Dean has to stop himself mid-drink to frown in her direction, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "We've only met one of you guys before and trust me when I say that you are a lot easier on the eyes-"

"His name was Elias Finch." She interrupts him, pawing at her own bottle of beer before abandoning the cold glass when it puts too much pressure on her wounded wrists. "He was shot during a duel in 1861 and witnesses said they saw him burst into flames."

Bobby leans back against the counter, staring at the girl through furrowed brows. "I'm guessin' you knew 'im?"

"I was him" She replies through a mask of indifference.

Choking on his beer, Dean's green eyes widen when hearing this. "Excuse me?"

"What do you mean?" Bobby presses further, his obsessive need for more information to add to his collection evident in the curious expression he wore beneath his more rugged features. Turning to Dean, the man stubbornly avoidant, the woman raises an eyebrow in his direction

"I remember you the most. You were the one to kill Elias in that duel, right? With the Colt?"

"...yeah." It takes him a moment to answer, but he gets the syllable out nonetheless. Seemingly satisfied with the response, the woman turns her attention back onto the older man seated next to her. They already knew her weaknesses and they had collectively agreed to prolong confrontation, so what was the worst that could happen if she were to satisfy their curiosity?

"Then you know that when a phoenix is killed, its body burns up and leaves behind a pile of ashes." (y/n) finally speaks, formal in her explanation but brief enough for the men to understand, "From those ashes, no matter the amount left, will grow another phoenix."

"So is that how you, you know, reproduce?" Sam asks cautiously, (y/n) unable to stop the laugh of disbelief that escapes her throat at the way the man's nose scrunches as he says this.

"A phoenix cannot reproduce because only one of us is allowed to exist at a time." she clarifies quickly through a wave of her bloodied hand, choosing to ignore the pitying frowns from the men who hear her plyte when she adds onto her explanation. "When Elias died, I was born through the ashes that Samuel Colt left behind. I think that humans would call this process 'reincarnation'."