Little Talks, for were_lemur
Title: Little Talks
Recipient: were_lemur
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2122
Warnings: Language, future fic, original characters
Author’s Note: Thanks so much for the amazing prompts! I had a tough time deciding which one to write, but I chose to step outside my comfort zone and write for a character I’ve never written for before: Alex. Hope you like this!
Summary: Alex is all grown up now, and a therapist. She spends her days working with runaway adolescents, and at night, she opens her phone to hunters who need to talk to someone who understands.
*-*-*-*-*
Little Talks
Alex smiled as she watched the young girl sitting on the couch. She kept kicking her feet, bumping her heels into the furniture, because her legs were too short for her feet to touch the ground. Every so often, she’d sigh, crossing her arms over her chest, huffing out a breath. She clearly wanted to be anywhere else but here.
Alex knew how she felt. Alex understood, because Alex had once been a twelve … wait. A quick glance at her notes let Alex see that the girl just recently turned thirteen. Alex knew what it was like to be mad at the world, which just comes with the territory of being a thirteen-year-old girl, but she also knew what it was like to want out.
She tries not to think about that these days.
Alex cleared her throat, and the girl lifted pretty blue eyes her way. Alex smiled, and the girl rolled those eyes. Alex fought the urge to shake her head, and somehow kept the smile on her face.
“Is there anything you’d like to talk about, Caitlin?”
Caitlin rolled her eyes again.
“No. This is stupid.”
Alex nodded, and Caitlin looked over at her again.
“I’m only here because it’s court-ordered.”
“Yes, you’ve made that very clear.”
Caitlin stopped, narrowing her eyes at Alex.
“How? I haven’t said anything.”
Alex smiled.
“You haven’t needed to say anything. Your body language has told me more than your mouth ever could.”
Caitlin kept her eyes on Alex, who shrugged her shoulders and continued talking.
“You don’t look at me. If you do, it’s to roll your eyes, which lets me know that you think this is a waste of our time. You keep crossing your arms, closing yourself off, basically telling me to stay away. And you keep kicking your feet, which is another way of telling me to stay away from you.”
Caitlin slowly dropped her arms from where they’d been crossed over her chest, and she consciously brought her feet to a stop. Alex smiled again, leaning forward just a bit.
“I know you don’t want to be here. I know you think this is dumb. But like you said, it’s court-ordered, so why don’t we try and make the best of it that we can?”
Caitlin looked down at her hands, and Alex glanced at the watch on her wrist.
“Maybe next week will go over better for us. See you Monday after school.”
Alex watched Caitlin linger just a moment, before she slid forward, finally getting her feet on the ground. She walked to the door, opening it, pausing for a moment. She glanced over her shoulder, meeting Alex’s gaze, then turned and walked away.
Alex raised her hands, clenching her fists, counting the small move as a win. She pulled out her desk drawer and picked up the recorder she used after every session, settling back into her chair, one foot on the ground slowly turning the chair as she spoke.
“Caitlin Thompson, age thirteen. Court-ordered therapy due to her status as a chronic runaway. Caitlin has been a foster child since age seven, and she has made it very clear that she does not want to participate in therapy. However, I do believe we may have made some progress today. While discussing body language, Caitlin seemed intrigued, and we may can continue our discussion during her next session, which will be Monday, four days from now.”
Alex turned off the recorder and set it on the desk, then yawned widely, scratching her hands through her long, dark hair. She stood up and stretched, tilting her body one way, and then the other, gasping softly when her spine popped. She bent over and grabbed her ankles, exhaling as she rested her head on her knees. She straightened again and tilted her head from side to side, looking back at the desk as her phone gave a chirp.
She walked over and grabbed the phone, smiling when she saw the text.
Dinner at Jody’s tonight. DON’T BE LATE.
Alex typed out a response, smiling the entire time.
I am never late. That’s all you, Blondie.
Alex laughed at the emojis Claire sent back to her, then looked over at the clock. She sent a confirmation message, then locked the phone in her desk drawer, picking up a notebook and a pen, walking over and opening the door. She smiled when she saw a little boy, unruly brown hair sticking up all over his head. He glanced up and saw her, smiling wide enough that Alex could see his two front teeth were missing.
“You ready, Cooper?”
He nodded, jumping off the couch and running into the room, leaving a laughing Alex to shut the door behind him.
*-*-*-*-*
Dinner at Jody’s was a weekly event, during which Alex, Jody, and Claire got together to catch up on their lives. Alex lives a town away, but less than a half-hour drive. Claire-much to Jody’s chagrin-insists on being a hunter, but for now-due to Jody’s insistence-she’s in college. Dinner means an hour and a half drive for Claire, but she usually spends the night with Jody before heading back the next day.
Tonight was Italian night, and Jody fixed spaghetti with meatballs. It might not seem like much, an “easy” meal for sure, but something about it was near gourmet every time. Alex took a plate home with her-at Jody’s insistence-and she was secretly glad, because leftover spaghetti for lunch was one of Alex’s favorite things.
When she got home that night, Alex dropped her keys on the table by the door, slipping her shoes off there as well. She went into the kitchen and put the spaghetti in the fridge, checking the clock and walking to her bedroom, changing into a pair of pajamas. She walked back into her office, taking a seat in the chair behind her desk, grabbing a notebook and a pen.
The phone rang, and Alex took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She reached over and tapped the speaker, answering the call.
“This is Alex Mills.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, but Alex could hear breathing, so she waited. She smiled, and a moment later, a voice came through.
“I got this number from a-a friend.”
Alex smiled. The voice was clearly male, with a distinctly New England accent, and very unsure. Alex cleared her throat, speaking in a gentle tone.
“Oh, really? Did this friend tell you anything else?”
“Yeah, he … he said to tell you … Funkytown.”
Alex smiled.
“So you’re a hunter.”
There was silence on the other end of the line, and Alex nodded.
“It’s okay. I know all about things that go bump in the night. Werewolves, rougarous, vam-vampires.”
Alex cleared her throat, shaking her head.
“Anything that you need to talk about, we can.”
“I don’t need to talk about anything.”
“That’s fine. If you’re sure.”
At the moment of silence, Alex licked her lips, smiling softly. It sometimes shocked her that hunters called her at all. There was such a masculine, “hide your feelings” attitude that came with hunting. Too many of them abided by that “law,” but there were a few who trusted enough to take the chance and call.
“There …”
An sharp exhalation caused Alex to glance at the phone.
“There was this ghost. I fucking hate ghosts.”
Alex smiled.
“So do I.”
“This one was … old and gross and … there were-there were these kids.”
The hunter on the other end of the line blew out a breath.
“I couldn’t get there in time. The-the kids, they …”
He blew out another shaky breath, and Alex nodded.
“How many were there?”
“Two.”
Alex closed her eyes, and the hunter spoke again.
“I-I tried. I swear, I did, I tried so hard, but I couldn’t…”
He sighed, and Alex leaned forward.
“You tried everything you could?”
“Yes.”
“Then you can’t blame yourself.”
The hunter blew out a breath.
“But if I could have been a few minutes faster-“
“You can’t think like that. You’ll always be able to think of something else you should have done, some other road you could have taken. But you … you did everything you could, and sometimes that just isn’t enough. It isn’t fair, but …”
Alex sighed.
“That’s life.”
The phone was quiet for a moment, until the hunter finally spoke.
“You … you got a point.”
“You’re not going to give up hunting, are you?”
“No! No way. This is all I’ve ever done, all I’ll ever be able to do.”
“Then the next hunt you go on, save someone else. I’m not saying that the next person you save will make up for the ones you didn’t, but the good you do will eventually outweigh the bad, even if it doesn’t seem that way to you. Hunters have a crap job, but the greatest thing about hunters is their tenacity. Hang in there, keep doing what you’re doing, and don’t give up, okay?”
“Yeah … yeah, okay.”
“Anytime you need to talk, please call me.”
“I will. Hey, thanks.”
Alex smiled, listening to the dial tone as the hunter hung up the phone. They hardly ever gave her their names, which was just as well.
When she graduated from college, she’d put out feelers as much as she could. Someone who’s been there, who understands, a willing ear for anyone who needed to talk, and more hunters than she ever imagined call her. Some want to talk, some want advice, and a couple just want to listen to someone talk about “normal” things.
Two specific hunters have never called, and Alex has tried to imagine that’s because they’re fine. They haven’t checked in in a while, and even Jody’s starting to get worried now. Every night, Alex hopes one of them will call, but every night, they don’t.
The phone rang again, and Alex took in a breath, exhaling as she answered the call.
“This is Alex.”
“Hello, doc.”
Alex smiled.
“Hey, Barry.”
Barry was a regular of hers, calling at least once a week, if not more. He knew she was a therapist, not a doctor, but he insisted on calling her “doc” anyway. Alex cleared her throat.
“What’s going on, Bare?”
Barry sighed.
“Oh, not too much. Met up with a wendigo down in the Florida Keys.”
“A wendigo that far south?”
“I know, right? I think the poor monster was just lost. I set him straight, though.”
Alex laughed, and Barry echoed the sound, trailing off into a groan.
“You okay, Bare?”
“Not really. Bastard messed me up good. Forty-seven stitches in my back.”
“Ooh, ouch.”
“No kidding. Hey doc, you ever heard of a crocotta?”
Alex shivered.
“Yes. Those are some nasty creatures, Barry.”
“Any idea on how to kill ‘em?”
“Yeah, I think you … hang on a second.”
Alex rolled her chair over to the computer, moving the mouse around to wake it up and typing on the keyboard. Along with being a therapist to runaway kids and a sounding board for hunters, she’s also become somewhat of an information station. Everything she could get her hands on from Jody, who got most of her information from old books of Bobby Singer’s, Alex loaded into a database into her computer. She searched for a moment, then rolled back over to the phone.
“The only account I have says that stabbing works. They stabbed the crocotta in the back of the neck, and it died. I’d try that.”
“Stabbing, got it.”
“Barry, you’re not going after this thing, are you?”
“Well …”
“With forty-seven stitches in your back?”
Barry sighed.
“I can still work, doc.”
“Barry, you need to take some time and rest. Call someone else to take care of this.”
“Doc, I-“
“I know you can do it. But you won’t be doing anybody any good if you die out there from infection or god only knows what else. Crocottas are disgusting, Barry. You’re compromised right now.”
After a moment, Barry blew out a breath.
“All right. All right, I can … I’ll give somebody a call.”
“Thank you. I like talking to you, Bare. I need you around for a while.”
Barry laughed.
“I’m only doing this for you. Doctor’s orders and all.”
“I’m not a doctor, Barry.”
“Closest thing I got to one. Thank you, Alex.”
“Anytime.”
Alex smiled as she hung up the phone, laughing when it almost immediately started ringing again. She tilted her head to the side, cracking her neck, then pressed the speaker button.
“This is Alex.”
Recipient: were_lemur
Rating: PG
Word Count: 2122
Warnings: Language, future fic, original characters
Author’s Note: Thanks so much for the amazing prompts! I had a tough time deciding which one to write, but I chose to step outside my comfort zone and write for a character I’ve never written for before: Alex. Hope you like this!
Summary: Alex is all grown up now, and a therapist. She spends her days working with runaway adolescents, and at night, she opens her phone to hunters who need to talk to someone who understands.
*-*-*-*-*
Little Talks
Alex smiled as she watched the young girl sitting on the couch. She kept kicking her feet, bumping her heels into the furniture, because her legs were too short for her feet to touch the ground. Every so often, she’d sigh, crossing her arms over her chest, huffing out a breath. She clearly wanted to be anywhere else but here.
Alex knew how she felt. Alex understood, because Alex had once been a twelve … wait. A quick glance at her notes let Alex see that the girl just recently turned thirteen. Alex knew what it was like to be mad at the world, which just comes with the territory of being a thirteen-year-old girl, but she also knew what it was like to want out.
She tries not to think about that these days.
Alex cleared her throat, and the girl lifted pretty blue eyes her way. Alex smiled, and the girl rolled those eyes. Alex fought the urge to shake her head, and somehow kept the smile on her face.
“Is there anything you’d like to talk about, Caitlin?”
Caitlin rolled her eyes again.
“No. This is stupid.”
Alex nodded, and Caitlin looked over at her again.
“I’m only here because it’s court-ordered.”
“Yes, you’ve made that very clear.”
Caitlin stopped, narrowing her eyes at Alex.
“How? I haven’t said anything.”
Alex smiled.
“You haven’t needed to say anything. Your body language has told me more than your mouth ever could.”
Caitlin kept her eyes on Alex, who shrugged her shoulders and continued talking.
“You don’t look at me. If you do, it’s to roll your eyes, which lets me know that you think this is a waste of our time. You keep crossing your arms, closing yourself off, basically telling me to stay away. And you keep kicking your feet, which is another way of telling me to stay away from you.”
Caitlin slowly dropped her arms from where they’d been crossed over her chest, and she consciously brought her feet to a stop. Alex smiled again, leaning forward just a bit.
“I know you don’t want to be here. I know you think this is dumb. But like you said, it’s court-ordered, so why don’t we try and make the best of it that we can?”
Caitlin looked down at her hands, and Alex glanced at the watch on her wrist.
“Maybe next week will go over better for us. See you Monday after school.”
Alex watched Caitlin linger just a moment, before she slid forward, finally getting her feet on the ground. She walked to the door, opening it, pausing for a moment. She glanced over her shoulder, meeting Alex’s gaze, then turned and walked away.
Alex raised her hands, clenching her fists, counting the small move as a win. She pulled out her desk drawer and picked up the recorder she used after every session, settling back into her chair, one foot on the ground slowly turning the chair as she spoke.
“Caitlin Thompson, age thirteen. Court-ordered therapy due to her status as a chronic runaway. Caitlin has been a foster child since age seven, and she has made it very clear that she does not want to participate in therapy. However, I do believe we may have made some progress today. While discussing body language, Caitlin seemed intrigued, and we may can continue our discussion during her next session, which will be Monday, four days from now.”
Alex turned off the recorder and set it on the desk, then yawned widely, scratching her hands through her long, dark hair. She stood up and stretched, tilting her body one way, and then the other, gasping softly when her spine popped. She bent over and grabbed her ankles, exhaling as she rested her head on her knees. She straightened again and tilted her head from side to side, looking back at the desk as her phone gave a chirp.
She walked over and grabbed the phone, smiling when she saw the text.
Dinner at Jody’s tonight. DON’T BE LATE.
Alex typed out a response, smiling the entire time.
I am never late. That’s all you, Blondie.
Alex laughed at the emojis Claire sent back to her, then looked over at the clock. She sent a confirmation message, then locked the phone in her desk drawer, picking up a notebook and a pen, walking over and opening the door. She smiled when she saw a little boy, unruly brown hair sticking up all over his head. He glanced up and saw her, smiling wide enough that Alex could see his two front teeth were missing.
“You ready, Cooper?”
He nodded, jumping off the couch and running into the room, leaving a laughing Alex to shut the door behind him.
*-*-*-*-*
Dinner at Jody’s was a weekly event, during which Alex, Jody, and Claire got together to catch up on their lives. Alex lives a town away, but less than a half-hour drive. Claire-much to Jody’s chagrin-insists on being a hunter, but for now-due to Jody’s insistence-she’s in college. Dinner means an hour and a half drive for Claire, but she usually spends the night with Jody before heading back the next day.
Tonight was Italian night, and Jody fixed spaghetti with meatballs. It might not seem like much, an “easy” meal for sure, but something about it was near gourmet every time. Alex took a plate home with her-at Jody’s insistence-and she was secretly glad, because leftover spaghetti for lunch was one of Alex’s favorite things.
When she got home that night, Alex dropped her keys on the table by the door, slipping her shoes off there as well. She went into the kitchen and put the spaghetti in the fridge, checking the clock and walking to her bedroom, changing into a pair of pajamas. She walked back into her office, taking a seat in the chair behind her desk, grabbing a notebook and a pen.
The phone rang, and Alex took in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She reached over and tapped the speaker, answering the call.
“This is Alex Mills.”
There was a pause on the other end of the line, but Alex could hear breathing, so she waited. She smiled, and a moment later, a voice came through.
“I got this number from a-a friend.”
Alex smiled. The voice was clearly male, with a distinctly New England accent, and very unsure. Alex cleared her throat, speaking in a gentle tone.
“Oh, really? Did this friend tell you anything else?”
“Yeah, he … he said to tell you … Funkytown.”
Alex smiled.
“So you’re a hunter.”
There was silence on the other end of the line, and Alex nodded.
“It’s okay. I know all about things that go bump in the night. Werewolves, rougarous, vam-vampires.”
Alex cleared her throat, shaking her head.
“Anything that you need to talk about, we can.”
“I don’t need to talk about anything.”
“That’s fine. If you’re sure.”
At the moment of silence, Alex licked her lips, smiling softly. It sometimes shocked her that hunters called her at all. There was such a masculine, “hide your feelings” attitude that came with hunting. Too many of them abided by that “law,” but there were a few who trusted enough to take the chance and call.
“There …”
An sharp exhalation caused Alex to glance at the phone.
“There was this ghost. I fucking hate ghosts.”
Alex smiled.
“So do I.”
“This one was … old and gross and … there were-there were these kids.”
The hunter on the other end of the line blew out a breath.
“I couldn’t get there in time. The-the kids, they …”
He blew out another shaky breath, and Alex nodded.
“How many were there?”
“Two.”
Alex closed her eyes, and the hunter spoke again.
“I-I tried. I swear, I did, I tried so hard, but I couldn’t…”
He sighed, and Alex leaned forward.
“You tried everything you could?”
“Yes.”
“Then you can’t blame yourself.”
The hunter blew out a breath.
“But if I could have been a few minutes faster-“
“You can’t think like that. You’ll always be able to think of something else you should have done, some other road you could have taken. But you … you did everything you could, and sometimes that just isn’t enough. It isn’t fair, but …”
Alex sighed.
“That’s life.”
The phone was quiet for a moment, until the hunter finally spoke.
“You … you got a point.”
“You’re not going to give up hunting, are you?”
“No! No way. This is all I’ve ever done, all I’ll ever be able to do.”
“Then the next hunt you go on, save someone else. I’m not saying that the next person you save will make up for the ones you didn’t, but the good you do will eventually outweigh the bad, even if it doesn’t seem that way to you. Hunters have a crap job, but the greatest thing about hunters is their tenacity. Hang in there, keep doing what you’re doing, and don’t give up, okay?”
“Yeah … yeah, okay.”
“Anytime you need to talk, please call me.”
“I will. Hey, thanks.”
Alex smiled, listening to the dial tone as the hunter hung up the phone. They hardly ever gave her their names, which was just as well.
When she graduated from college, she’d put out feelers as much as she could. Someone who’s been there, who understands, a willing ear for anyone who needed to talk, and more hunters than she ever imagined call her. Some want to talk, some want advice, and a couple just want to listen to someone talk about “normal” things.
Two specific hunters have never called, and Alex has tried to imagine that’s because they’re fine. They haven’t checked in in a while, and even Jody’s starting to get worried now. Every night, Alex hopes one of them will call, but every night, they don’t.
The phone rang again, and Alex took in a breath, exhaling as she answered the call.
“This is Alex.”
“Hello, doc.”
Alex smiled.
“Hey, Barry.”
Barry was a regular of hers, calling at least once a week, if not more. He knew she was a therapist, not a doctor, but he insisted on calling her “doc” anyway. Alex cleared her throat.
“What’s going on, Bare?”
Barry sighed.
“Oh, not too much. Met up with a wendigo down in the Florida Keys.”
“A wendigo that far south?”
“I know, right? I think the poor monster was just lost. I set him straight, though.”
Alex laughed, and Barry echoed the sound, trailing off into a groan.
“You okay, Bare?”
“Not really. Bastard messed me up good. Forty-seven stitches in my back.”
“Ooh, ouch.”
“No kidding. Hey doc, you ever heard of a crocotta?”
Alex shivered.
“Yes. Those are some nasty creatures, Barry.”
“Any idea on how to kill ‘em?”
“Yeah, I think you … hang on a second.”
Alex rolled her chair over to the computer, moving the mouse around to wake it up and typing on the keyboard. Along with being a therapist to runaway kids and a sounding board for hunters, she’s also become somewhat of an information station. Everything she could get her hands on from Jody, who got most of her information from old books of Bobby Singer’s, Alex loaded into a database into her computer. She searched for a moment, then rolled back over to the phone.
“The only account I have says that stabbing works. They stabbed the crocotta in the back of the neck, and it died. I’d try that.”
“Stabbing, got it.”
“Barry, you’re not going after this thing, are you?”
“Well …”
“With forty-seven stitches in your back?”
Barry sighed.
“I can still work, doc.”
“Barry, you need to take some time and rest. Call someone else to take care of this.”
“Doc, I-“
“I know you can do it. But you won’t be doing anybody any good if you die out there from infection or god only knows what else. Crocottas are disgusting, Barry. You’re compromised right now.”
After a moment, Barry blew out a breath.
“All right. All right, I can … I’ll give somebody a call.”
“Thank you. I like talking to you, Bare. I need you around for a while.”
Barry laughed.
“I’m only doing this for you. Doctor’s orders and all.”
“I’m not a doctor, Barry.”
“Closest thing I got to one. Thank you, Alex.”
“Anytime.”
Alex smiled as she hung up the phone, laughing when it almost immediately started ringing again. She tilted her head to the side, cracking her neck, then pressed the speaker button.
“This is Alex.”