Chapter Text
Y/N sat alone in a small booth at the back of the local diner, staring blankly at her hands, fingers locked together. It was early summer and the day was beautiful. Any other day she would have had been calling all her friends out to her property for a bonfire and BBQ night. The memories of summers past doing exactly that made her heart squeeze painfully. There would be no bonfire tonight or any time soon. How could she when Todd and David had been found dead in their homes just two weeks apart?
“Y/N?”
Y/N lifted her tired eyes to the waitress, though she needn’t look to know it was her friend Whitney. Whitney looked just as tired as Y/N felt. The brutal death of the boys had been just as hard on Whitney as it had been for Y/N, harder yet when Whitney had been dating Todd for the last few years. Y/N didn’t have the heart to tell her heartbroken friend that she feared she was being stalked, she would deal with it on her own.
“How are you, Whit?” Y/N asked, smiling as her friend took a seat across from her.
“I wouldn’t say better, but I can sleep a few extra hours a night before I wake up screaming for him now, so… there’s slight improvement I suppose,” Whitney answered honestly.
“You know it wasn’t your fault,” Y/N said sternly. Whitney had been away to visit her sister and newborn niece the week Todd had been killed. David had been found in his apartment in the exact same condition only a week later.
“I know, but that doesn’t stop it from feeling like I could have done something… Anything.”
“They would have killed you, too.” Y/N reached across the table to grasp Whitney’s hand; positive she would have gone insane if she had lost all of her friends to this maniac and eternally thankful Whitney was still amongst the living.
“I should have made him come with me… I should have, you know how much he loved kids,” Whitney gave a pained sigh. “What are you doing in town anyway?”
“Evan asked if I could bring some pies in.”
Y/N lived several miles outside of their small farming community. Twice a week she baked pies for the diner and the rest of her time she dedicated to riding lessons for the city folk that were willing to make the drive to her humble home and the occasional local. It wasn’t much but it had been enough to pay off what her parents had still owed on the farm before they’d died.
“Evan is an inconsiderate jackass how only wants in your pants,” Whitney huffed. “How many lessons did you have to cancel because he wanted you in early?”
“Four,” Y/N said with a shrug.
“Four? Y/N, that’s a lot of-”
“It’s alright, Whit. They don’t really want to come around with a homicidal maniac running amuck in our town anyway. Said they would come back when the killer was caught,” Y/N cut her friend off.
“That’s even worse! Who knows how long it’s going to take to find this psycho!”
“I’m still makin’ pies so it’s not like I’ve lost all my income, I still have the brewery and they’ll be back before you know it.”
“How can you be so sure?” Whitney asked, bewildered.
“We live in a small town, Whit, there are only so many people he can kill off before it becomes a ghost town.”
“Real nice, Y/N,” Whitney said with a look of disgust. “You have a morbid sense of humor when you want, you know that?”
“I try,” Y/N laughed.
“My break is just about over. Do you want anything before you head back?” Whitney asked, standing from the booth and smoothing out the skirt of her uniform.
“Nah, I’m good, thanks. We should have a bonfire night when it’s safe again… in tribute to our boys. I can practically hear ‘em yellin’ at us now if we were to stop our weekend tradition.”
Whitney agreed and the girls hugged and exchanged goodbyes before Y/N left the little diner to head home. Whitney watched her friend leave, the smile leaving her face when she caught a glimpse of a man standing in the shadows of the building across the street, watching Y/N head out to her car. Whitney wasn’t sure, but she got the distinct impression that this man was stalking her dear friend. She had seen his silhouette more times than she could count following Y/N around town over the last month.
With all the deaths plaguing their tiny town, Whitney feared her only remaining friend might be the psycho’s next victim.
A few hours later, nearing the end of Whitney’s shift, two never seen before men dressed in suits came waltzing into the diner, talking low amongst themselves and headed straight for the back booth Y/N had a tendency of occupying.
“Can I get you boys anything?” Whitney asked the two, not failing to overhear their hushed conversation about the recent deaths in their town. Perhaps the local police had finally contacted high authorities for aide in catching this killer. She truly hoped so.
The brunette turned a friendly smile up to Whitney, dimples flashing. “Coffee, please.”
“A slice of pie would be fantastic,” said the man with dirty blonde hair, eyeing the display case next to the cash register.
Whiney thought both agents were very good-looking.
Whitney returned in a moment’s time with two steaming mugs of coffee and a slice of Y/N’s locally famous apple pie. Y/N’s apple pie never failed to win awards when entered in the local baking contest when the fair came around. There wasn’t a soul in their town that didn’t love her pies, it was the reason Y/N had started selling them to the diner in the fist place. That and there wasn’t a bakery for miles so if anyone wanted fresh pie they would have to go to the diner.
“Here you boys are,” Whitney said with a smile. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
The green eyed man whom had asked for the pie dug in almost as soon as the plate was set down, groaning in satisfaction as he took his first bite.
“Dean..,” the brunette sighed as he watched his companion. “I’m Agent Smyth and this is my partner, Agent Carter. Can you tell us anything about the murders that have been taking place around here?”
Whitney eyed the clock on the wall above the bar before taking off her apron as she took a seat in the booth. “Whitney. My boyfriend was the first victim, so if there is anything I can offer you, please let me know.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Agent Smyth sympathized.
“Thank you,” said Whitney. “My best friend is actually the one who found him the night of his murder.”
The two exchanged looks before gesturing Whitney to continue.
“I was away visiting my sister and brother-in-law. She’d just given birth to their first baby and I was excited to met her. The night Todd died, I had been trying to get a hold of him for hours, but he never answered. At first, I thought he had just been busy at the shop so I let it slide; he had a tendency to work late hours of the weekends. The later it got with not so much as a “sorry babe, late shit” the more worried I became.
I contacted Y/N, my best friend, and asked her if she would be willing to check on him for me. If he was working late that was fine. Another tendency of his was to let his phone die when he worked late after all… Y/N called me back within an hour in total hysterics. She’d found Todd lying on the floor, pale and lifeless after a brutal attack. Said it was like nothing she had ever seen.”
“Did she mention noticing anything strange?” Agent Carter asked around a mouthful of pie.
“Puncture wounds, like he had been bitten an animal of some kind, though by nothing she knew. Y/N lives on a farm at the base of the mountains; it isn’t exactly uncommon for coyote or bear to wander down onto the farm… the coroner said there wasn’t a drop of blood in his body… it was the same way for our friend David, the second victim.”
“Interesting,” said Agent Smyth. “Have you noticed any… strangers around, maybe someone new to town or a perhaps a tourist who’s overstayed their welcome?”
“Yes,” Whitney almost whispered, her mind instantly conjuring an image of the shadowed man that had been following Y/N of later. Her heart fluttered at the possibility that these two men might be capable of catching whoever was responsible for the six murders, and keep her best friend from becoming the next victim.
“Before you ask, I can’t honestly tell you want he looks like or where he might be staying,” she rushed, witnessing both men’s shoulders sag at what seemed to be an obvious dead end. “But, I can give you Y/N’s address. I might not be able to give you a proper description but someone has been following Y/N around for the last week. Lurking around a corner, hiding under awnings, always in the shadows watching where she goes and when she leaves. I can’t promise you he’s whose behind all this, but I also believe he’s your best bet.”
As Whitney wrote down Y/N’s address on a napkin for the agents, Agent Cater thanked her for her help.
“We’ll head out to your friends farm as soon as we find a place to stay,” he said as he took the address from Whitney, tucking the napkin into the pocket of his slacks.
“This is a small town,” Whitney chuckled. “We don’t really have a hotel, but no worries, Y/N will put you boys up for as long as you need.”
“Uh… right. Again, thank you for your help.”
“It’s the least I could do,” she said with a smile.
Dean and Sam Winchester drove about the tiny farm town for a good twenty minutes looking for a motel of any kind but, as the waitress said, there was nothing of the sort. Dean glanced over the address they received and turned the Impala west to head out of town in the direction of the mountain range.
Vast fields of corn as far as the eye can see surrounded the tiny town, rolling green farm lands fenced in by barbed wire to keep cows from wandering, silos towering above farmhouses scattered far and few between. It was quant and peaceful and so far out of the way of anything in a tiny corner of the Northwest, that it didn’t surprise the boys that a monster would take residency here.
Washington was covered in small downs and forests and the Hunter population was low. The things that go bump in the night could really run amuck up here and keep hidden. Lore ran deep in the states people of unknown things in the woods, but Dean and Sam knew better. They had just finished a simple salt and burn when Sam stumbled across several articles of strange murders that screamed vampire in a tiny farming community up north. With no other leads, the brothers agreed to look into the possible vampire attacks.
“I think that’s our turnoff,” Sam said, pointing to a near invisible drive hidden in the trees several yards up the road. Dean did not hesitate to turn up the dirt road, slowing to a crawl as to keep Baby from bottoming out on the well-worn path.
About a half mile up the dirt drive a big ranch style farmhouse came in to view. The home was a dark gray with a giant wrap around porch, and dark blue wooden shutters. A huge barn of the classic red and white styling sat adjacent to the home, its doors wide open; Sam caught sight of a few chickens pecking at the soft earth in front of the big double doors.
What caught Dean’s eye was the black Chevy pickup sitting in front of the house. Dean parked the Impala next to the pickup, climbed out without a word to Sam, and ran an appreciative hand over the truck.
“It’s a ’68,” he said to Sam who stood on the steps of the porch. The sudden warm cinnamon sweet smell of apple pie was the only thing to pull Dean from the expertly painted purple ghost flames crawling up the hood of the classic.
Dean’s eyes roamed the tree-lined expanse of the property, nudging Sam in the side as the younger of the two knocked for a second time at the dark blue door. “I could get used to a place like this.”
Before Sam could knock again gunfire rang from somewhere behind the farmhouse. The brothers shared a startled look before booking it around the porch to the backside of the house, down the back steps, and in to the backyard. They were met with a small orchard of apple trees, a small vegetable garden, and several farm animals that didn’t seem at all phased by the gunfire.
Another shot rang through the air and Dean and Sam took off down the path between the apple trees, their own guns drawn. What they hadn’t expected to find was their host standing out back shooting at tin cans sat on fence posts with a pistol, Def Leppard’s Pour Some Sugar On Me blaring.
“Y/N Y/L/N?” Sam asked.
Y/N whirled around at the call of her named, pistol raised and barrel aimed toward two male intruders. Her eyes roamed over the taller of the two first, the dimpled smile he gave her disarmed her, and Y/N lowered her gun. Her eyes lingered on the green-eyed man who caught her eye, shooting her a crooked little smirk that let her know she’d been caught in the act of checking him out. She raised the glass of whisky in her hand to her lips in an effort to hide the flush of attraction crawling across her cheeks.
“Didn’t your Daddy ever tell you not to sneak up on a woman with a gun?” Y/N teased. “Not exactly safe in these parts anymore.”
“I’m Agent Smyth,” Sammy introduced himself. “And this is my partner, Agent Carter. We’re here investigating the recent string of murders and your friend Whitney told us you might be able to help?”
Y/N’s head tilted curiously, studying the men before her. “We best take this inside. He’s watching.”
Dean raised an eyebrow as he and Sammy shared a look. “Who is watching?” Dean asked.
Y/N ignored Dean, choosing instead to toss back the rest of the whisky in her glass, shut off the radio, and head toward the barn. The boys followed, watching as she rallied runaway chickens and checked in on horses before she locked the barn doors with a thick lock and chain. “Can’t be too cautious,” she said with a wave of the key, ushering the boys up the back steps.
“Is that your pickup?” Dean asked with a gesture toward the drive.
“Who else would it belong to?”
“I don’t know… a brother of yours, your father, or the boyfriend maybe?” Beside Dean Sammy shook his head.
“I’m sorry, are you suggesting girls can’t own classic cars?”
“No! It’s just… never mind.” Dean had not meant to come off sexist in any manner, honestly. The fact that this gorgeous woman owned a classic was sexy as hell.
“I have a ’69 Chevelle Super Sport in the barn too, just replaced the radiator this morning. If you play nice I might let you see it.”
Dean’s eyes nearly rolled to the back of his head. This girl was a fuckin’ dream. If not for the jab to the ribs he received from Sammy, he might have been able to convince himself that he’d fallen asleep in the Impala at some point on their way to a case and this girl was nothing but a conjuring of his perfect girl in his mind’s eye.
“Outside you said someone was watching, what did you mean by that?” Sammy asked.
Y/N pulled three mugs out of the cupboard, standing on her toes to reach what either Sammy or Dean would have had no problems reaching, grabbed the coffee pot, and joined the boys at the table. “The killer has been stalking me for a while now. I’ve seen him following me almost everywhere I’ve gone for the last week and a half and I can’t tell you what the fucker looks like. It’s frustrating as all hell.”
“How do you know it’s the killer?”
Y/N rubbed the back of her neck. She knew they wouldn’t believe her, but she would try to tell them what she knew anyway.
“I’ve spend my whole life on this property; in bear territory. I know what it feels like to be stalked by a predator. This guy has the same feeling about him. He’s not…” Y/N trailed off. She didn’t want either of these men to think her as crazy, but she knew she had drawn the right conclusion about the killer.
“He what?” Agent Smyth gently nudged her to continue.
“He’s a vampire.”
Silence filled the space between Y/N and the obvious brothers, but she would not continue until one of them said something first.
“What makes you think vampires are real?” said the handsome green-eyed man.
“The fact that neither of you fake cops laughed. In fact, you both tensed up at the word like I’d stumbled across something I wasn’t supposed to.”
“You think we aren’t agents?”
“I pointed a gun at the both of you and neither of you threatened to have me arrested for such a thing. You aren’t driving a federally issued undercover car –that Impala of yours is beautiful by the way-, and again, neither of you thought I was crazy for the word vampire. I hunt, my father was an ex military man; I know how to spot a lie. You boys are good, but I’m better. Who are you really and why are you here?”
Both men sighed, the dark haired one running a hand through his hair before sharing a look with his brother. “I’m Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean. We’re… hunters too, of a different sort. We don’t think you’re crazy because we’ve killed vampires before.”
“Among other things,” Dean grumbled beside Sammy.
“I stumbled across several news clippings about several strange and mysterious murders in the local town and we thought we would come check it out.”
“So you decided to waltz into the local diner pretending to be with the feds… because?”
“People are more likely to answer questions about these sort of things to someone of the law than if some random tourists came wondering in like sick thrill seekers, said Sam.
“Vampires aren’t the only things you hunt… are they?”
“…No.” Sam clarified.
“Okay.”
“Okay?” Dean asked. “Most people tend to freak out when they learn the monsters of their nightmares really exist, and all you have to stay is ‘okay’?”
“You forget that I’ve seen what this thing is capable of,” said Y/N. “I’ve had time to freak out over the realization that there are things that go bump in the night. Not only that, but I’ve lost two of my best friends to one of those things.”
“You’re right,” said Sam. Sam and Dean watched Y/N sigh with what seemed to be relief and sink down into her chair.
“You two can stay here for as long as you need,” Y/N said after a moment.
“Thank you,” said Sammy.
“On one condition,” Y/N continued.
“Okay?”
“You let me in on it.”
“Excuse me?” Dean asked in bewilderment. Had he heard her right?
“Don’t give me that look, pretty boy. Do you honestly think I am going to just sit around and do nothing after a revolution like this?”
“Yes,” said Dean, “and you should. This is dangerous, you could get killed.”
“Because there hasn’t already been six murders in this town, including two of my best friends. This guy has been tailing me for the last week and a half, I’m not going to sit around and let him come for me while you two are out playing boy heroes.”
“We couldn’t guarantee your safety,” Sam tried as Dean seethed in the seat beside him.
“Oh, because I’m safe sitting around waiting for him to show up at my door while you two run around like chickens with their heads cut off?”
Sam’s eyebrows disappeared under his low hanging curls and with a shrug he said, “She’s got a point.”
“I don’t like it, Sammy. She wouldn’t only be putting herself in danger, but us as well.”
“Honey, I’m probably a better shot than you,” Y/N bit out.
Sammy failed to hide his chuckle behind his coffee and Dean smacked him upside the head for it. Y/N could tell by the look on Dean’s face that he was trying to get his brother to agree with him, but she would have none of it. This was her home, her friends, her life. Her life was already on the edge of a knife with a vampire stalking her; she was damn well going to do something about it.
“Dean…”
“No, Sammy.”
“Pie! How would you like some pie?”
Dean’s head snapped to face Y/N so fast she was positive he should have had whiplash from the sheer break neck speed. “Twice in one day? How could I possibly say no to that?”
“Oh, did you have some at the diner?”
“Best pie I’ve ever had,” Dean grinned.
“Is that so?” Y/N asked with a knowing smile. From a cooling rack next to the open kitchen window Y/N cut into a fresh apple crumble that she had intended to take to the diner earlier but, by lucky chance it would seem, she had forgotten it.
“Damn right. All it was missing was-”
“A scoop of vanilla ice cream?” Y/N waved a tub of the frozen confection, scooped a single scoop onto each plate, and carefully juggled three plates to her small dining room table in the corner of the room.
“Thank you,” both Sam and Dean chorused.
“Don’t mention it. I sell ‘em to the diner twice a week and happened to forget this one so at least someone is getting to enjoy it,” said Y/N.
“You made that?” Dean asked in awe, digging into the slice of pie Y/N had given him in the next heartbeat.
“Sure did,” Y/N laughed. “We don’t have a bakery around here so, twice a week I supply the diner with a few pies in exchange for a small fee and they post flyers out for any newcomers looking for riding lessons.”
Dean groaned around a bite of the apple crumble. “I’m in love.”
Sammy chocked and Y/N raised an eyebrow in amusement.
“I’m flattered,” she said.
“I meant with the pie,” Dean’s face flushed almost unnoticeably as he smacked an open palm to Sammy’s back.
“Of course,” Y/N said, winking when she got Dean’s eye and watched him squirm in his seat to avoid eye contact.
“Is there anywhere nearby that this guy could be staying?” Sammy asked to save his brother any further embarrassment, even if he did enjoy seeing Dean flounder at the flirtations of a beautiful girl. Dean Winchester did not stumble for anything. This girl was something else.
“No… I’m the only one this far out of town. There is nothing out here. Except… oh I’m an idiot. There’s an old shack about a mile up the mountain. It used to be the original location the farmhouse, but it burned down a few years ago. Said a fault in the electrical wiring caused it… My parents didn’t make it.”
“That’s horrible,” Sam said, reaching across the table to pat Y/N’s hand sympathetically.
“It was, but I’ve had the last five years to cope and rebuild the farm back to its former self.”
“The shack is a good start. Can you tell us how to get there?” dean asks.
“It would be easier to show you. Tomorrow though, traipsing about the forest after dark is not a brilliant idea, even for hunters. Not when you’re in bear territory. ”
Dean made a face at this. He still didn’t like the idea of Y/N tagging along, but the pie had softened him to it. Dean was finding it harder and harder to say no to this woman, and he’d only met her a few hours ago.
“I’ll show you to your rooms if you’re ready,” Y/N said when plates had been licked clean and dishes had been washed. Sam and Dean had just come back into the house with their travel bags, Y/N meeting them at the front door, holding the screen door open for the two of them.
“Again, thank you for letting us stay with you. We’ll try to get this vamp as soon as we can so that we aren’t in your hair for long,” Sammy said, rubbing the back of his neck and following Y/N and Dean up the hardwood stairs leading to the bedrooms.
She laughed and shook her head in response. “It’s the least I can do if you boys can really get rid of this asshole.”
“We’ll get rid of him,” said Dean. He stood behind Y/N in the middle of the hall, arms crossed over his chest as he watched her open a second bedroom door on the opposite side of the hall, directly across from the fist.
“Feel free to use whichever room suits you best, my room is over there,” Y/N said, gesturing to the closed door beside the second room. “If you boys need anything don’t hesitate to ask. I’ll I ask is that you knock before barging in, the doors don’t lock.”
“Yes, ma’am,” both boys agreed simultaneously.
Y/N bid the boys goodnight with a smile and a wave, closing her bedroom door with a soft click, leaving the brothers alone in the hall with one another. Sam was the fist to move, claiming the fist room as his own.
“She’s something, isn’t she?” Sammy asked of his brother.
“Yeah,” said Dean absentmindedly, eyes glued to the door Y/N disappeared behind.
“I could happily settle down with a woman like that,” Sammy continued, waiting for his brother’s reaction. Dean did not disappoint.
Dean’s head snapped around to Sammy, eyes narrowed. “What is that supposed to mean?”
Sammy shrugged. “A beautiful girl like that who can handle a gun and doesn’t need someone to take care of her, hell what guy wouldn’t want that? She bakes and works on cars; she owns her own place and works for herself. She even hunts… I’d take her for myself if I thought she would let me.”
“Sammy…” Dean all but growled.
“I know,” Sam raised his hands in surrender. “I guess I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight Dean,” he said.
Dean nodded. “Night Sammy,” he said as he too turned in for the night, taking the room next to Y/N’s without complaint.