Hiya guys.

So I finally got around to posting my new fic lol. This started off as a totally original fic using a character I had made up in another fic cos I liked her. However looking back at it, I guess it can be considered a kind of sequel to Witch Trials which is also somewhere around here. But you don't have to have read Witch Trials to read this one as its pretty self explanatory. There are just a few references here and there that link back to the other one. Just to let you guys know if you come across a couple of random references and injokes and think what the ...

I hope you enjoy. Please leave a review as all criticism is much appreciated. Thanks.


Chapter 1: - Found.

It had taken her nearly two months to track him down. Countless messages left on his mobile and calls to his contacts and friends, had failed to raise a response until finally she had received that long awaited phone call.

She leant against her red '67 Chevy Camaro in the overwhelming darkness, shivering in the chill night air. She looked up at the tired roadside diner, her breath catching in the back of her throat. She'd been waiting for this for so long that she could hardly think of all she wanted, needed to ask.

Forcing herself away from the car, she hurried across the parking lot before her courage failed her. Leaning her weight against the door, she slid inside, her eyes instinctively flitting over the numerous customers, trying to find him out.

At last her eyes fell on him, his dark messy hair camouflaging his rugged weather-beaten face. He sat, his head turned away from the rest of the diner, blending in with the old sun-bleached furniture.

Even though she had never seen his face she knew it was him. His slouch, his aura and his appearance reminded her so much of his sons. Though he was seated, she could tell he was tall and well built, years of hunting making their mark on his body.

Slowly, she pushed her way through the furniture, fighting to get across the room. She smoothed a hand over her dark curly hair and pulled at her T-shirt and jeans nervously, self-consciously trying to make herself look more presentable.

As she neared the table, he turned, as if on instinct, and gave a nervous smile, taking in her whole appearance. Sliding into a seat opposite, she looked at him expectantly, looking into his eyes.

"Hi," she barely whispered, her courage failing her as he remained silent.

"Hi Alex. It's been a long time."

John had played the many messages she had left a hundred and one times. He knew she was desperate to find him, desperate to get some answers. He had sent his boys to help her and he knew this would be inevitable, but he had as yet failed to find the strength to meet her face to face, to look into her eyes, to see the spitting image of the women he once knew. But Dana was gone, leaving behind her daughter and a mountain of questions needing answers.

He'd finally built up the courage to ring, which was more than he'd done for his sons. He'd received Dean's messages after Jess had died and gotten Sam's after Dean had been electrocuted and suffered a massive heart attack, but hadn't so much as called. Call it instinct, stupidity or whatever you wanted, but he knew they would be okay without him. They had each other, which was more than Alex had.

Those three long rings had been torturous as he had waited for her to pick up the phone. What was seconds had felt like hours, but she had picked up and had waited for him to speak.

He now sat in a dingy diner somewhere in Missouri, he couldn't really remember where, waiting, wondering imagining what was about to happen, what he would do, what he would say. He couldn't even remember how he'd gotten here. Whether he had driven, or whether he had walked.

Alex shifted uncomfortably in her seat as he continued to stare at her, taking in her appearance. Clearing her throat, she reached for the menu.

"So … umm … I've been trying to find you for months."

"Yes. I got your messages."

Alex looked at him, her eyebrow raised. "Really, so why didn't you get in touch before?"

John remained silent.

"Didn't you get the messages off Sam and Dean?" she pried, digging for a response. "They phoned you too. They found the picture of my mother in your journal, the information about us. They want to know everything about it as much as I do."

He shifted uncomfortably.

Changing tact, she asked, "Why won't you see them?"

John looked at her in surprise. It was a long time since someone was so blunt and honest with him without ceremony. "They're safer on their own," he grunted.

"Really?" Alex almost laughed bitterly. "We almost died."

"What is this? The Spanish Inquisition!" John scowled, his temper rising.

Alex shrugged pretending not to be bothered, but grinned inwardly having gouged the response she was after. After months of anxious waiting and wondering, a selfish desire to snipe at him had replaced the nervous anguish she had experienced just moments before. Sitting in front of him, her courage began to build. "Just seems a bit … I dunno, selfish to me," she said, looking into his eyes, begging him to respond. A smile twitched at the corners of her lips as she watched his cheeks flush pink and he began to twist his hands distractedly on the table. She wasn't going to let him get away with this so easily.

"Now listen missy, you don't even know me!" he said, trying to control his temper as he countered her steady gaze.

"Dean was right. You really don't want to be found do you!" Alex cut in, watching his pride falter.

"Dean said that?" John started, swallowing down the guilt which rose within him.

"Yeah," she nodded, as a waiter made his way towards them. "Him and Sam both."

John stared at her trying to work her out. "You're very confident of yourself."

Alex flushed. "No I'm not," she confided, her desire to hurt him, crumbling. "I was terrified of coming in here, but I kinda developed a talent for mind reading when your sons saved my life and you're not very difficult to read," she confessed, guilt flooding her heart.

"You're not like Sammy," John began in alarm.

Alex shrugged, concern etched across her face as she stared into his eyes.

"Don't," he muttered averting his gaze.

"Sorry," she whispered self-consciously. "I just wanna know the truth."

"Hi, can I get you anything?" the waiter said, as he finally reached their table.

"Just a coffee for me please," she smiled, closing the menu.

"Same," John replied. He waited until the waiter was out of earshot before continuing. "So what have you been doing since you left Covesville?"

"Searching for you … for answers."

"To what?"

"To who my father is. You knew my mum back then. Who was he?"

"Someone you really don't want to know," John sighed.

A tense silence filled the air between them, as Alex looked at him expectantly.

"You not going to elaborate," Alex said finally, desperation evident in her voice.

John shook his head. "Trust me on this."

"Hell no! You can't do that. I want to know. I need to know. You can't … just tell me the truth … please!"

"Look its best you don't know," John tried, a note of pleading in his voice.

"I'm not one of your kids. You're not my drill sergeant, yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir!"


"No. I'm not scared of you. Just tell me the truth. PLEASE!"

John looked at her face, noting how the desperation creased the corners of her eyes and a solemn frown played upon her lips.

"Please don't play games with me. I've been lied to for eighteen years. I need to know the truth."

John let out an audible sigh. "Look, your father was … well different."

The waiter came back placing their coffees in front of them. "Can I get you-"

"No, nothing else," Alex butted in tartly. The waiter, looking taken aback stepped away from them, flushing.

"How do you mean different?" Alex asked nervously once he was gone.

John looked down intently at his coffee.

"Well?" she prompted, not liking the tense silence.

"You know about the things me and my boys hunt."

"From first hand experience, yes."

"Well, he was … he was a shapeshifter."

"A shapeshifter," Alex started, eyes wide in disbelief. "But … do they even exist?" She looked at him desperately as he followed her movements with a steady gaze. Her jaw dropped open in horror, as she stared at him unable to speak. 'But if John hunted them,' she thought, her mind slowly unfreezing as his words began to sink in, 'They must be …' "Evil," she whispered audibly.

"Excuse me?" he said, as he struggled to hear her. Leaning in, he looked at her scared eyes.

"Was he … Are they evil?" she managed, staring down intently at her cup of coffee, her earlier courage dying a quick and painful death.

"Not all. Your father was a good man."

"Was?" she said apprehensively, lifting her eyes to his.

"I met you mother whilst hunting a group of them nearly twenty years ago. Most of them were hurting or killing people, your father excluded. Stupid son of a bitch fell in love. I don't think it went down to well with the rest. He tried to protect her, but they were attacked, ambushed and he was dragged off, disappeared, most likely killed. Dana managed to escape; I helped her out of there. You came along six months later."

Alex sat numb in her seat. "Then what does that make me?" she muttered in a barely audible whisper. John slid his hand across the table taking hers in his. "You're human, and just like your mother."

"God what a screwed up family," she sighed with a watery smile, a heavy atmosphere settling between them.

"I think yours could rival mine," he grinned reassuringly. "From what Bob told me."

Alex let out a forced laugh as she looked down at her hand clasped firmly in his. Following her gaze, he saw a delicate silver bracelet poking out from underneath her black jacket. As she shifted slightly, it slid further down her wrist into full view. He moved his hand up to where it rested, touching the ring which was attached to it. Alex watched him curiously as shades of memories illuminated his face.

"I gave your mother this ring," he smiled. "Was a reminder for her that if she ever needed help she could always call me. I owe her a lot."

Alex smiled, trying to mask her fear. "You're going for the big guns today. One hell of a pun you got there."

"Ahh you're a smart Alec are ya?" John smirked, watching Alex grin. "Just like Dean."

Silence fell between them as they both became lost in their own thoughts.

From inside his jacket, John's mobile phone started to ring, breaking the atmosphere. Reaching in and pulling it out he answered it. Alex watched in silence as his face became more and more serious, the sad twinkle which had resided in his eye for a brief fleeting moment, disappeared and was replaced by the ice-cold hunter glint.

Putting down the phone he glanced at Alex, taking in her worried face. "I have to go," he said. "The boys are in Chicago. I think they might have just walked into a trap."

"Can I come," she asked, already knowing the answer.

"No," he smiled sadly, knowing she knew what he would say.

Alex watched him silently as he stood to leave. "Will I see you again?" she asked doubtfully.

"This isn't your fight anymore."

"I thought not," she said sarcastically, sounding too much like Dean for John's liking.

"I have to go. If you ever need anything-"

"Yeah yeah, I know … ring. Go save your kids."

John smiled, releasing Alex's hand before turning to go, leaving Alex staring after him as he disappeared out of the door and into the darkness. Resting her head in her hands, she let out a disheartened sigh.