Louder Than Words

Dean's eyelids were heavy as he drove down the highway. Sam was snoring lightly in shotgun, his phone resting on his lap. He had taken to watching it at all hours of the day, passing it off as just waiting to get a call on vamps. But Dean knew what he was really waiting for. He didn't want to say anything, though, like how it had been a month since they last saw her, weeks since Cas had checked in on her. 

Cas wasn't telling the whole truth. Dean didn't know how he knew, but he did. Something about the way he said she was fine... But something was keeping him from asking him about it. Maybe he was protecting Sammy. Maybe he just wanted to be done with her. Either way, it kept him from pressing Cas. 

His mind switched from that to Reagan with the turn of the song on the radio. 

When he saw her at Garth's meeting he hadn't recognized her or her brother. The last time he saw them, their dads were working a case with each other and the five of them- Sam, Dean, Reagan, Foster, and Hayden- had been left to sit in the motel, poised for research when the elder hunters called. 

He remembered her as a gawky preteen with frizzy brown hair and more attitude than both of her brothers together. Not the smart and attractive woman he had talked with in the bar. Only when she said her name did he recognize who she was. An she was hot. He smirked to himself. 

She was the reason he was driving through California tonight. She and her brothers found a nest, but it looked big and they wanted some help extracting some of the monsters for interrogation.

Speaking of the meeting, an apocalypse? He knew he should be immune to the surprise of an oncoming apocalypse. 12-21-12 had gone by without so much as a tremor, so he supposed that the world was due for another scare soon. But a vampiric apocalypse? He thought he had successfully bypassed monster uprisings years ago. But no. 

'At least with this one,' he thought, 'it isn't just me and Sammy. It's everyone.'

Sam woke up next to him. 

"Hey," he groaned, rubbing his eyes. "Where are we?"

"Somewhere east of Modesto."

"California?"

"Yup."

"How much longer?"

"Probably about twenty minutes. Foster said to meet them at Reagan's bar."

"Where's that?"

Dean handed him his phone. "Read the text. I forget the street."

"'The Office, Washington Street, Sonora.' Witty bar name."

Dean chuckled. "Right?"

<><><><><>

They had pulled Ally's little baby blue Subaru out of the garage and turned on the heat to try and thaw out Bayleigh's truck. Bayleigh was seated on the steps,  leaning against the door connecting the house and the garage. She was watching Syd tinker around with her precious truck. 

"Just don't hurt him," she said quietly. He looked up at her and grinned, oil smudged on his long-fingered hands and wifebeater. 

"I didn't take two years of Shop in high school for nothing," he said. She looked at him nervously. "And in my professional opinion," he wiped his forehead, "I'd say you need a new transmission."

"Please tell me you're gonna refer me to a legitimate professional." He chuckled. 

"Yea. A friend of mine works in town. We'll bring it in when the roads clear up and they can bring a tow truck out here."

She breathed a quiet sigh of relief, looking at the floor. 

"Oh come on, you weren't that worried, were you?" he sat next to her. 

"Only mostly. I love that car. The man who trained me gave it to me before he died."

"Don't worry. I won't hurt it." Syd bumped his shoulder to hers, smiling. 

She smiled slightly, tentatively returning the bump. "I wouldn't let you."

<><><><><>

The sky was turning pink over the horizon. Bayleigh leaned against the back wall of the barn, smoking a stale cigarette from the pack she had shoved under the seat in the Dodge. She had stopped smoking years ago, but liked to have a pack on hand for times like these. Tumultuous times. When her mind didn't seem to be put in straight. 

She took a drag, aware of someone approaching, stifling a small smile that she hadn't lost her touch in her weeks off. Syd came around the corner, stopping next to her. 

"I didn't  know you smoked." He leaned his shoulder against the wall next to her. 

She took another drag, shaking her head and exhaling. "I don't."

He smiled a bit. "What're you doing out here?"

"Thinking."

"About what?"

"My life." She shook her head again, stubbing out the cigarette. "When I was 14, before I was taken by the vamps, I had this whole idea of how my life was going to be."

"And how was that?"

"I was going to be a model and be rich and live in a huge house and have different guys coming over all the time, trying to convince me to marry them. But I never would, I would just keep them wanting it." She looked at the cigarette butt longingly, wishing it was at least back between her fingers. "I was a tease back then."

Syd chuckled. "When I was 14, I played Zelda every day."

"A prime example of the gender gap." Syd nodded, still smiling.  

He was looking at her the same way that Sam had been that night after the Buruburu. She stepped away, feeling a nervous word-vomit coming on, but was saved by a the sounds of a car coming up the gravel driveway. 

"That'll be Ally's new boyfriend here for dinner," Syd said, leading the way to the house. 

They met him at the junction between the front door, the staircase, and the archways on either side leading to the kitchen and living room. He was tall and slim and handsome, but Bayleigh didn't like the feeling she was getting from him. He introduced himself as Xavier. Syd shook his hand, saying something in a gruff tone, declaring himself dominant. Then Xavier turned to Bayleigh, smiling and holding out his hand. She shook it, he name tumbling from her lips as the shock of cold went up her arm. She swallowed and turned away, trying to decide how to handle this without beheading Ally's boyfriend right in front of her. The stain on the carpet would be horrible. 

They sat at the table, Bayleigh seated acing Xavier, and they managed to have a civil dinner. Until Xavier decided to ask how she met Ally and Syd. 

She paused, a bite of chicken parmason halfway to her mouth. She set her fork down and said with a meaningful glare, "Tragic hunting accident." She looked at the other two apologetically and excused herself outside.