Title: Introductions (For lack of a better title...)
Prompt: Writer's Choice (Introduction)
Characters: Alona Forester, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer
Summary: While at Bobby's house, Sam and Dean meet a rather unusual hunter...
Dean pulled on his leather jacket, picking up the keys to the Impala. “You ready to go, Sam?” he called into the kitchen, where Sam was talking to Bobby.
Sam looked around at Dean. “Yeah, whenever you are.”
Bobby walked into the room where Dean was waiting and sat down on the couch. “You sure you don’t want a drink or anything before you go?”
Dean glanced up, smiling a little. “Tempting. But no, thanks, Bobby. We’d probably better go.”
“Well, all right. You boys keep in touch, all right?” Bobby raised his eyebrows at Dean. “Let me know if you ever - “
Bobby was interrupted by a bang on the door. “Knock, knock,” a voice called out. The door creaked open. “Anyone home?”
Bobby stood up sharply, grabbing a gun next to the couch. “Who’s there?”
A small, dark-haired girl walked into the room. She wore a baseball cap backwards on her head, covering two long pigtails that hung straight down her back. She was thin and appeared to be just over five feet tall. She grinned when she saw Bobby. “Hey, there.”
Bobby’s face broke into a smile. “Alona! The hell you doin’ here, kid?”
The girl rolled her eyes, still smiling, and when to hug him. “Nice to see you too, Bobby.” Stepping back, she added, “My bike needs an oil change. And since I was in the area I decided to come say hey.” She nodded to the Winchesters. “Who’re your friends?”
“This is Sam and Dean Winchester,” Bobby said. “Boys, this is Alona.”
Both Winchesters turned to look at the girl. Sam offered Alona his hand. “Hi, I’m Sam.”
“Alona.” She gave him a smile before turning to Dean. “And Dean?”
“Hey.” Dean inclined his head to her.
“Well, it’s good to meet you,” Alona said. “I’ve heard a lot about you.” Suddenly she swayed, nearly falling over.
“Whoa,” Sam said, catching her. “Are you all right?”
Eyes closed, Alona nodded. “Um, just - just let me sit down for a sec, huh?” Sam carefully lowered her onto the couch.
Bobby sat down next to her, looking concerned. His eyes moved to her sleeve, where a patch of blood was spreading on her upper arm. “You’re bleeding, kiddo.”
Alona opened her eyes and looked with apparent interest at her arm. “Huh. Thought I stopped the bleeding.”
“Alona.” Bobby shook his head. “Come on, kid, what’ve you been doing?”
She shrugged, then grimaced with the pain. “Demons. One of ‘em had a knife.” Alona unzipped her sweatshirt and gingerly pulled it off so Bobby could look at her arm, which was carelessly wrapped in a piece of cloth.
Bobby carefully removed the cloth from Alona’s arm, letting out a hiss when he saw the cut. “Jesus Christ.”
“What?” Alona protested. “I washed it. I wrapped it.”
Bobby shook his head. “Yeah, it’s a wonder you’re not dead. This needs to be stitched, kiddo.”
Alona rolled her eyes. “Ah, come on.” Seeing the look Bobby gave her, she let out a huff of air. “Fine. Stitch me up. But someone needs to change the oil in my motorcycle.”
Dean stood up. “I can do it,” he offered, moving toward the door.
“No!” Alona snapped. “You can’t touch my bike! I don’t know you!”
“For crying out loud.” Bobby gave her another look, but Alona glared back at him until he relented. “All right, fine. I’ll change your oil.” Rolling his eyes, Bobby stood and headed for the door.
“Hey!” Alona protested. “Who’s gonna do my arm?”
“First-aid kit’s on the shelf,” Bobby called over his shoulder. “One of the boys can do it.”
Alona leaned back on the couch, looking somewhat annoyed. She tried to fold her arms across her chest, but cried out from the pain, swearing. Dean knelt next to her. “Sammy, can you hand me the first-aid kit?”
“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Sam quickly grabbed the kit and handed it to Dean, looking at Alona in concern.
Dean, opening the kit, smirked as Alona eyed him suspiciously. “You don’t trust me with your bike, but you trust me to stitch up your arm?”
“Not really. But I kinda have to.” She smiled. “And hey, Bobby trusts you.” Alona bit her lip as Dean began stitching her arm. “Got anything to drink?” she asked hopefully.
“Sure, here you go.” Dean handed her a beer that was sitting on the table. He eyed her as she took a swig from the bottle.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” she asked.
Dean shrugged, concentrating on the stitching. “I dunno.” He looked back at her. “How old are you, anyway?”
Alona sighed, taking another drink of her beer. “You think I’m like eighteen, don’t you? I’m twenty-three. How old are you?” she asked, almost playfully.
Dean chuckled. “Twenty-eight. There, stitching’s done. Lemme just cover it with something.” As Dean rummaged in the first-aid kit, Alona’s eyes moved to Sam.
“Hey, Sam,” she said.
Sam smiled. “Hey. How you doing?”
Alona shrugged. “Oh, I dunno. You ever been stitched up without anaesthetic? It sucks.” She made a face. “But apparently it’ll keep me from dying or something, I dunno.” She grinned again.
Bobby walked back into the room. “Your bike’s all fixed up, kid. Should be good for awhile.”
Alona jumped to her feet. “Oh good, I can go.” She snatched her sweatshirt up from the couch and pulled it back on.
Bobby looked surprised. “You’re not staying longer?”
“Nope. Got stuff to do. Monsters to kill.” Alona went to the door, letting herself out and hopping onto her motorcycle.
“Hey!” Bobby called from the doorway. “You be careful! Don’t rip your stitches!”
Alona waved a hand in the air to acknowledge him, just before starting the engine and zooming away. Sam and Dean stepped up next to Bobby to watch her go.
“What’s her story?” Dean asked curiously.
Bobby shook his head. “I don’t know a lot, and what I do know ain’t my business to tell you boys. I know she don’t look like much, but she’s a hell of a fighter. When she was thirteen she hunted with me for awhile, but when she turned sixteen she bought herself that bike and ran off.” He shrugged. “I didn’t want her to be on her own at that age, but she’s a real loner. Doesn’t stick in one place for too long.”
Sam frowned, looking into the distance, in the direction that Alona had gone. “She seems happy enough.”
“Oh yeah. I guess whatever she’s doing, she likes doing it.” Bobby turned away from the door, shutting it behind him.