Chapter Text
it's been six months since ruth died.
thatcher has been in hiding. he tells himself he's still working up the courage to kill the alternate, but he's got a feeling he can't. knowing that he can't do much to avenge his friends, he decides to grab a drink.
it's late, probably midnight. the rain has mostly slowed down yet he still drives carefully, parking his car and heading in. it's crowded, but he finds a seat at the counter.
"two shots of whiskey." thatcher requests, the bartender nodding and pouring his drink. the man next to him smiles. "you've got good taste."
thatcher turns to face him. he's got short, dark blonde hair and is donning a worn leather jacket. is that blood?
"..thanks man."
there would have been an awkward silence, if not for the constant conversations playing in the background alongside a faint song. thatcher's like, 'fuck it' and decides to start rambling. on and on, about ruth, then about dave, then back to ruth, and finally about the alternate.
He didn't even know if this stranger was aware of alternates, or if he was even listening, but he perked up at the word.
"Alternates? Never heard of 'em." The stranger states, bringing his chair closer.
Davis tilts his head.
"Names Dean, by the way," He extends a hand that Thatcher shakes firmly, as he has countless times. "Davis- Thatcher, I meant Thatcher."
Oh, right, Dean asked him a question.
"Ah.. almost forgot. I guess they're like.. shapeshifters. Doppelgangers- most people know what those are, right?"
Dean was taking a shot but ended up snorting, like the question was funny to him.
"Sorry, sorry. I've got experiences with Shifters. All kinds of things, anyway. Nothing new." Dean explains quickly, a smile playing on his lips. "So, you don't have any clue how to take down this.. Alternate? Nothing? Wait- you're a hunter, yeah?"
Hunter? Thatcher pauses. That must be what this dude is.
"Well, no. Not yet anyway. But I'll admit, it sounds fun," He smiles, for once. Still appalled to be talking to a hunter.