Louder Than Words

Reagan sat alone in her bar. The Winchesters had arrived and already left for their hotel room down the street. It was quiet, except...

Reagan sipped her beer and shook her head. "Dean Winchester, it might have been a while since I hunted more than a ghost, but I know when there's a man in my bar."

Dean smirked and sat down next to her. "Sharp."

"Mmm. You want one?" she held up her beer.

"Sure."

Reagan went behind the bar and handed him a bottle, then placed two shot glasses and a bottle of whiskey on the counter.

"I'm starting to like you." It was her turn to smirk.

"Look out, Dean. I'm a Civvy now." She paused. "Sam didn't look any more pleasant," she remarked.

"Yea."

"He was in love." She sipped her beer with a pointed glance. Dean grunted and shook his head. "You guys haven't heard from her-"

"The only thing I know is- nothing. We had a friend check up on her, but the way he said that she was okay made me doubt it and that was about a month ago."

Reagan looked at him. "Subject change," she said cheerily, pouring the shots. They touched glasses and downed the amber liquid.

"Vampires," he said after the familiar and somewhat comforting burn cleared from his throat.

"Mmm. Another touching subject. What about them?"

"How do you know they are where you think they are?"

"Me and Fozzy think that this is one of the collection nests, the ones who grab the girls. These are the easiest to find. You just go where a bunch of kids between the ages of fourteen and twenty-five go missing."

Dean frowned. "Me and Sammy have been looking for anything. Without the usual trail vamps leave behind, it's pretty much impossible."

"Yes but that's why we called the infamous Winchesters to help us extract one of them. Hopefully the one that knows what's going on. And then we call Garth and hope to hell he doesn't send us Gerard to help. Prick."

They were quiet for a second. She watched his face, those lips-Mmmm- and grinned. "How about we move this somewhere more private."

Less than an hour later they banged through her bedroom door, attached at the lips. (a/n: Well that escalated quickly.)

<><><><><>

Bayleigh leaned against the wind, wishing she had brought a bigger jacket and maybe her pack of cigarettes. She was just building up the motivation to sneak into the garage and grab it when the front door opened and closed behind her.

She knew it was Xavier before he came up beside her.

"You know what I am." She nodded. He exhaled. "Are you gonna tell Ally?"

"Not yet."

"Are you gonna kill me?"

He looked at him, hugging her jacket tighter around her. "Not yet."

"Are you gonna tell Syd?"

She frowned. "Probably."

Xavier shuffled and looked at his feet. Then he looked at her with full brown eyes the color of frosted mud.

"Why?"

She shrugged. "Because he's her brother."

"No, why are you here?"

"I told you. Hunting accident."

"So you retired in the snowy hell that is North Dakota?"

"This is temporary."

"Does Syd know that?"

Bayleigh looked at him, glaring. "I know how he feels and he knows what happens when you find yourself with me. I don't need the Talk from a vampire."

He held up his hands. "Sorry, sorry."

She shook her head. "When's the last time you ate?"

"Fresh? About forty years, I think. I work part time in a morgue in Rolla. like an hour west of here. I get my fill on work days."

Bayleigh nodded slowly. "Where's your nest?"

"I left them when I stopped drinking blood. Our nest was rather large and hunters kept coming and wiping out chunks of us. I suggested we lay low, feed from blood banks and hospitals. No one listened. And by the time i left, we were half the size of when i joined. I seemed to be the only one with any sense."

"Yes, very sensible dating a human. Did you forget you were a monster when you stopped killing?" she sneered, rather unnecessarily.

Xavier looked at her earnestly. "You can't help who you love."

She looked at her hands and frowned, not wanting to admit how truthful the vampire's words were.

"You look cold and they're probably wondering where we are. Let's go inside."

Bayleigh nodded and followed. "Just know, even if I do leave, I'll be coming back to make sure you're still clean."

Xavier smiled. "I'm sure Syd will be happy about that."

<><><><><>

That night Syd was watching a show about a rather attractive serial killer when she came down after her shower. They were home alone that night. Ally had gone home with Xavier, which made Bayleigh a little bit nervous.

"You came down at the best part," Syd smiled. "He's gonna make a fool out of the Captain."

"The Latina with the bad make-up?"

"Yea," he grinned. The man said something and a few other people crowded into the room shouting and then it looked like the woman was going to cry.

They watched the show in silence until the credits rolled. Then Syd clicked the TV off and turned to her.

"So what happened with you and Xavier tonight?" Syd asked. "Did you know him?"

"Yea. He, Uhm, we... We have history." Syd raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Not that kind of history. We know each other."

"So he did something unspeakable that you don't want to tell me about because he's dating my sister."

"In short," she said.

"But he seems a bit young to be a hunter, So that means that he didn't, like, leave you hanging while you were trying to kill a monster... So something from his childhood maybe?"

"Not exactly," she murmured.

"Bayleigh," he said equally as quiet. "He's dating my baby sister. They're alone together right now."

She swore and looked at her fingernails. "Just don't be an idiot about it if I tell you. I handled it. I will handle it, if I need to. But I don't because I already did."

"Now you're freaking me out, Bayleigh."

She squeezed her eyes closed and frowned. She shook her head and said, "He's a vampire."

Syd looked at her for a second. "And how did you handle it?" he demanded. He stood up. "God, Bayleigh! You just let a vampire run off with my sister?! Who the hell does that?!"

"I told you. Don't be an idiot. I handled it." She was slightly taken aback. She hadn't ever seen Syd this angry.

"What the hell are you- how?!"

"He doesn't belong to a nest and, according to him, he hasn't eaten fresh in a few decades."

"And how do you know this?"

"His eyes," she said calmly. "You can tell when a vampire's eaten fresh because their eyes are really bright, like brighter than humans. And they shine against light in the dark. Like a dog's. His were dull. He hasn't eaten fresh in a long time. I don't know if it's as long as he said it was, but when their eyes are that dull, it's been long enough to kick the habit."

"You want me to trust a vampire?"

"You let me live in your house for weeks before you found out the truth. I thought I would extend the same decency."

"Yes, but now you're playing with my sister's life-"

"So were you."

That remark didn't seem to phase him at all.

"He's a monster! Don't you hunt monsters? Isn't that what you do for a living? Kill people like him?"

It was Bayleigh's turn to stand up. She seemed to grow substantially, almost looming over Syd, who was a good two inches taller than her. "I am not a murderer, Syd Dawson," she said in a low voice that shut him up immediately. "Don't you ever, Ever, accuse me of being one. I save lives. And I only kill what takes them. As long as he stays clean, I won't touch a hair on his head. I am not a Murderer," she said, this time quieter. She turned away, towards the hallway and up the stairs.

Syd paused, angry with himself and with Bayleigh. He slumped back down on the couch, head in hands.

<><><><><>

Sam finished the last drop of alcohol, knowing he would regret this in the morning when he had a pounding head. He closed his eyes, leaning on his knees, but immediately opened them again. It didn't help, though.

The figure imprinted on the back of his eyelids remained, flashing against the white hotel wall, the gaudy patterned bedspread, the stained and dirty carpet.

Sam groaned and reached for the bottle again, remembering that it was empty as it neared his mouth. He pressed it to his lips, anyways, feeling the cool glass against his skin. He closed his eyes

and woke abruptly to the sound of heavy bass and a synthesizer piano. He jerked up, both the chair and table jerking with his body. The bottle fell to the floor without breaking, but the sound broke his subconscious from the tune of Her favorite song. Yet his mind started reciting the words without his permission.

He shook his head and ran his hands over his eyes, through his hair, tugging on the ends to remind himself that he was still substantial and could feel pain, however small. He forced his mind onto another subject, turning on the TV for noise to stop the flow of every lyric he had ever memorized in Her car.

'Vampires,' he thought with determination. That's what was on everybody's minds today, wasn't it?

He did everything to distract himself. He pulled out his laptop and googled everything there was To know about vampires, though almost all of it he already knew. When he had finally exhausted his brain with the monotony of learning things he already knew, he dumped the empty beer bottles in the garbage and laid down. He busied himself for a moment thinking of wheat Dean would say when he saw Sam had drunk all the beer again.

And then, finding no other alternative, he turned off the TV and let Her wash over him. He drowned himself in memories and feelings and sensations and contemplated leaving his brother, right before a big hunt, to go find her and beg her to come back; he forgives her, it was all his fault, he would be better, he would try harder to-

To what? To love her and take care of her and listen to her and back off when he needed to and be there for her and do everything in his power to make her happy. She didn't have to stay with them, but she did. So the smothering was her fault, not his. He would've understood if she just wanted to take off and do a solo job or two, as long as she came back. He had been as perfect as one can be under those circumstances.

His disoriented brain fell into a brutal rage. Had he not been weak and jelly-limbed from his emotional turmoil, we was afraid he would have trashed the hotel room.

Suddenly he was sad, anger fading rapidly, fighting tears. He took a hold of himself, shaking it off and taking a deep breath. He talked himself through jumbled thoughts, making them logical.

And through it, an idea formed in his great big mind. And when he put all the prices together, he wanted to slap himself. All that time of forcing himself not to think about Her and she may be the key to it all. He wanted to laugh out loud at his stupidity.

"Cas," he called. "Cas, I need a quick favor. Can you help?"

It took ten minutes, but the angel appeared, tie perpetually askew, with his chronic five o'clock shadow.

"What do you need, Sam?"

Sam smiled for the first time in weeks.