A/N: Yeah, no excuse. I really have none except that my brain sucks? Because that is what happened. I think I went a whole month without even looking at this. And the stuff I would write, it is separate scenes for later in the story. I think I might actually do a separate file and just type out all the scenes I have and when I come to them later on, either steal them or let them be extra scenes. Because, the stack I have is almost as big as the chapters I have written. And something else weird happened. I had to type the other half of this chapter on the computer. I couldn't sit there and write it out on paper first. And I have a feeling it is because this chapter includes actual dialogue from the show and that was hard to work with for me. I have never encountered that problem.

Anywho, here is chapter 6. I know I suck, but I hope you enjoy this. Even if you hate me. It's cool, I promise.

Happy reading!

Henny, that lucky Penny!

Apocalyptic

Al had opted to ride with Uncle Bobby. Her stress levels had been obliterated.

She knew Uncle Bobby could see it. She knew her brothers could see it. They didn't fuss when she hadn't left the rusty car, curled in a ball on her side. Dean's borrowed jacket spread over her trembling form, her own rolled into a makeshift pillow.

Her men were a little worried.

Uncle Bobby would check on her every ten miles or so, but she remained still and barely blinking.

Her silent distress made him speed a little more.

They made it back to the scrapyard in almost record time. Cal numbly rolled out of the car. Her murmured name fell on deaf ears. She could hear them; she just couldn't find her words.

So, Calandra Mae just tumbled into bed, clothes and all, and proceeded to pass out.

First to fall asleep, first to rise.

Calandra could head the soft sounds of her guardians sleeping. A brief smile curled her lips. Her first since seeing Aunty Pam two days ago. But it felt good. It prompted her to start the coffeemaker before she pulled on her shoes and find comfort in her favorite pile of cars. An obscure pile towards the back of the yard.

She was always left alone for hours when she came out here. Mostly because Uncle Bobby knew she just needed to be left to sort out her thoughts. Sam and Dean followed his example when she would seek refuge in the yard.

Her thoughts centered around her older siblings this morning. Cal's brothers were gone, ripped from her violently. Now they were slammed back into her life and Cal feared she was suffering whiplash. Or she was incredibly overwhelmed with emotions.

Either way, seeing her brothers again had thrown her off.

Dean was back and he was whole. His strong arms could carry her and her burdens again. His deep timbre was able to chase away her fears and worries. Her little light in the dark was back. And she may be worried about him, but Cal was primarily relieved and elated that he was here.

Sam was bringing the mixed emotions. His departure was anything but amicable. For the most part, Calandra was hurt about him leaving her crying on the porch. She felt not good enough for him, like she wasn't enough reason to stay. That burned in her chest like ice; a burning cold of despair. But a small fire in her belly was fueled by anger. Well, rage. Rage that he dare leave her in their time of need. They needed each other more than ever and he chose to abandon her.

White, hot rage.

A sadness settled on her shoulders because Cal knew Sam had no experience with handling grieving children aside from holding them and then passing them back to their guardians. Cal couldn't be handed back because he was her guardian. He needed to deal with the aftermath. He needed to be the one who did the soothing and the coddling.

Sam's grief was running too hot and red to do the job properly. Al saw that the more whiskey he swallowed. Her tallest brother was a big guy and it took a lot of whiskey to get him trashed. Which meant she witnessed him drown in whiskey for the four days before he left.

The booze-soaked kiss on her temple still tickled her nose.

Coffee wafted over her and slowly brought Cal out of her own thoughts.

When her eyes focused, Sam's long brown hair, colored much like her own, caught her attention. Soft, sad green hazel irises caught Al's gaze and held it for a moment before he blinked and cleared his throat. He eyes were downcast as he produced a mug of steaming liquid.

"Bobby said that you tend to start the coffee before disappearing somewhere in the yard." her brother's softer timbre vibrated through the mug to her hand.

"Thanks." Cal mumbled and Sam nodded his head in response.

The young girl had perched herself in the hood of an old Mustang. She suspected it had been cherry red once upon a time. But now it was rusted out and only good for a paper weight. The windshield had been busted years ago, but she had found a board long enough to go across the gap for her to lean her back against.

She really could spend hours out here.

Sam placed himself on the edge. One foot was firmly planted on the ground while the other rested on the hood, bent comfortably so he could sip his coffee and watch his sister worry a chip in her cup. He patiently waited her to say what she was thinking. He let Cal organize her thoughts.

"My, uh, my first thought every time I think about the day you left is always how I wasn't enough." the girl began quietly after a few minutes of silence.

"Ally-"

"I'm not done." Cal cut off the apology she knew was coming. The long-haired man nodded before he swallowed down the words hard enough that his throat bobbed. "Every time I would see your teary eyes and anger twisted lips; I would tell myself I wasn't enough. I wasn't strong enough for my momma. I wasn't smart enough for Dean. And I wasn't good enough for you."

Calandra paused and took a heavy sip of the warm coffee. Emotion had tried to stick in her throat, so she attempted to wash it away. Mostly in vain because it just stuck in her chest and hindered her breathing.

"Ally, sweetie." Sam murmured, his tone was soft and soothing. A giant hand rested heavily on Cal's jean covered shin, the warmth seeped into her skin, comforting and calming.

"I cried for days. Not hours; days. I always had a headache and I always had a cup of water near." a shudder jolted through her body. "I think it was about two weeks before I finally fought through the mourning and self-doubt. While waiting for Uncle Bobby to rise from his stupor one morning, I found his revolver and thought about some stuff.

"Mostly how scared I was. I stared at this weapon that could kill me quite easily and realized that I needed to cut the crap. Dean dying wasn't my fault. Your leaving me wasn't my doing. Uncle Bobby destroying his liver was not my fault." she paused to again to drain her chilled coffee with a grimace, the mug placed next her on the hood. "Anyway, I would need several days to discuss what all I thought about, but I smell bacon, so I won't. I will say that I kind of understand why you left me."

"You should let me explain." Sam stated softly, but Cal shook her head. "I feel like I owe you an explanation, sweetie."

"You do." Cal said quickly, "But I honestly don't want it. I don't want to hear excuses or reasons. I just-" a sob worked its way up her throat. After a deep breath to calm the bubbling sadness creeping up, Cal met his eyes, hers misting over, "I just want my family back because all I have is Uncle Bobby, Aunty Pam, Dean and you." a tear made a wet trail down her cheek. "I just need you."

"I'm so sorry, Ally." her brother whispered, half broken. Sam placed down his empty mug before he leaned over to wipe away her tear, his hands gentle and careful.

Al pushed up from the old piece of wood and circled her arms around Sam's neck. Sam's long arms pulled his sister tight to his chest. A sigh of relief moved his hair. The tension melted from her shoulders. Cal felt safe again.

"I missed you, SamSam." Cal murmured into his neck.

"I missed you too, shortstack." Sam whispered back and he could feel her smile.

They held each other for a moment longer before Calandra pulled away slowly, the smile still fixed on her lips.

"Let's get some breakfast before Dean eats it all." her tallest brother said, his own grin dimpling his cheeks.

"Yeah!" her reply pulled a barking laugh from Sam's chest.

The young teen gathered the mugs together as the young man rose from his seated position. As he righted himself, Calandra stood on the rusted metal and she saw the understanding creep into his shining eyes. He turned his back to her and Cal wrapped her arms loosely around his neck. His hands cradled her thighs as he brought them up to rest around his waist. The girl rested her chin on his shoulder and Sam started the trek back to the house. A warmth that had left his chest that awful night had settled back in as he felt Cal breathing against his shoulder blades and listened to her hum one of her ridiculous songs about whatever the fuck they sang about these days.

School on Monday seemed mundane.

And on Tuesday.

And Wednesday.

Thursday felt more normal than most of the week had felt.

Cal was dropped off by her brothers. She could see the looks her brothers were getting from the girls. All of them. And the Impala was getting her share of attention from the boys. The youngest Winchester rolled her eyes so hard; she was surprised they didn't fall out of her sockets. Calandra didn't have to see Dean's face to know he was smirking cockily.

"Jail bait." Cal said as she gathered her belongings. Sam chuckled at his sister's annoyance. Dean sputtered indignantly.

"I would never!" his miffed reply was truthful, but Cal didn't acknowledge it, lest she inflate his ego anymore.

"We'll be right here at two thirty." Sam stated as Dean was preoccupied with messing his hair just right. Cal blinked at him in disbelief before she turned to her tallest brother.

"Can you please make that three thirty? There is a study group that I would like to attend for science. Well, it's Chem, and they are going over equations that I am having a problem with."

Dean finished with his hair and glanced back to his sister.

"Yeah, we can do that." the oldest replied before he scoffed and smirked. "I can't believe I'm the only cool one in our family." Al just shook her head with a small smile and Sam chuckled.

"Whatever, freak." the girl said with no bite.

A bell rang softly and Al leaned over the front bench. She dropped light kisses on their cheeks before sliding out the car. She slung her bag onto her shoulder and propped her books on her hip. She gave her brothers one last look and started towards the high school.

"Make good choices!" Dean's voice could be hear echoing off the building.

Calandra didn't even bother to turn around. Instead, she ducked her head and walked away faster. Her brothers' laughter mocked her as it chased her.

****
"No, if Olivia isn't answering than it is serious. I'll catch a ride from someone or walk." Calandra spoke softly into her phone. Uncle Bobby sighed on the other end. "I'll be fine, but Olivia isn't. Don't worry about me."

"I will always worry about you, Callie." Uncle Bobby grumbled. A small smile spread across her lips. "Call me when you get home."

"Will do." she replied before hanging up. Cal stuffed her small phone into her pocket before she gathered her books for class and slammed her locker shut.

Like a knight in flannel and trucker hat, Uncle Bobby was waiting for Calandra after the study group. His rusty truck didn't shine like a valiant steed, but it she as hell beat walking.

"Uncle Bobby!" her smile was broad and brought a small curve to the grumpy man's mouth.

"Callie, sweetie. How was school?"

The young girl's steps faltered. She was never called sweetie unless Uncle Bobby was trying to soften something. Like the death of another hunter.

"Just get into the cab. I'll explain everything we know." the tried man stated before hopping into the truck.

Calandra sighed and followed suit; her chest grew tight.

"She's dead, isn't she?" her tone was calm and heavy, but quiet.

"'Fraid so." his reply didn't make her feel better. "The boys are checking on Jed. When we get home, we need to call all the hunters in and around our area. We need to warn them."

"I can help." Cal volunteered, but caught the side glance from her uncle threw her way. "My chemistry homework is done along with my math. I just need to start an outline for an essay and read a few chapters of my book. Easy stuff that I can do after some calls." another look. "I promise."

"Fine."

Dead.

They were all dead.

Not one in their area answered their calls. Some farther out of their area answered. They were warned to use any protection they could until Bobby could get to the bottom of it all.

Sam and Dean had called on their way from Jed's to let the older hunter know about him. And he started to worry about Callie's safety at this point. He had a sneaking suspicion that she was also worried about her safety because she began to fidget with her unloaded sawed off.

Calandra knew better than to fidget with her weapon.

"Head to the panic room, Callie." Uncle Bobby ordered. "Something doesn't smell right about these hunter deaths."

"Yeah, I'll go down." Cal acquiesced to the order. "I'll grab my bag and rock salt. Bring down empty shells when you need help filling them."

Rather than answer, he nodded before leaning towards her to place a gentle peck on her hair. She leaned into the contact before grabbing her backpack. Her eyes stared into his, trying to draw strength from her uncle. He was her rock after all.

"Nothing will happen to you, beautiful." he promised quietly. And even though she knew he didn't promise his and her brothers' safety, she knew that they would do everything to come back to her.

"You can't break that promise, Uncle Bobby." she responded sternly before heading to the panic room.

Calandra's homework was interrupted when shotgun fire erupted somewhere in the quiet house. She could head her brothers calling out for her uncle. It made her chest tighten, but she knew that leaving the room would distract everyone. Cal's conflicted thoughts caused a headache to form behind her eyes.

And then thundering footsteps came down the basement stairs.

Poised for an attack, Cal was across the cylindrical room as the door opened slowly with her shotgun cocked.

"Callie, darlin'!" her uncle's voice came from the crack, "Don't shoot."

The girl lowered the weapon, but the barrel was still pointed in the direction of the door. Her eyes were trained on the entryway. Al's heart was beating wildly.

A very familiar trucker hat appeared with a very familiar body behind it. Relief surged through Cal's body, relaxing her muscles and fight instincts. Sam and Dean followed Uncle Bobby, but they were looking around the room, astonished. A broad smile broke her face into two.

"Solid iron. Completely coated in salt. One hundred percent ghost proof." Uncle Bobby stated as he looked around the small room.

"You built a panic room?" Sam wondered; his tone was proud.

"We had a weekend off." he replied with a non-chalant shrug and a wink towards Cal.

"Bobby." Dean said after a moment.

"What?"

"You're awesome." Dean said with a huge grin and bright eyes. Cal giggled happily.

The men and Calandra had been researching for hours. Well, Cal alternated between researching and filling shells. After she proved she had finished her homework. Honestly, Cal was going to get her diploma one way or another. She didn't really need them on her case about it.

"See, this is why I can't get behind God." Dean stated into his dusty book. Cal and Sam looked up from their shells. They both were confused.

"What are you talking about?" Sam voiced both his and Al's thoughts.

"If He doesn't exist, fine. Bad crap happens to good people. That's how it is. And no rhyme or reason just random horrible evil. I get it. Okay? I can roll with it. But if He is out there, what's wrong with Him? Where the hell is He while all these decent people are getting torn to shreds? How does He live with Himself? You know, why doesn't He help?"

The panic room held its breath. Sam had been watching his brother. His gaze had been steady and now Dean had finished, he turned to Uncle Bobby. Cal however continued to stare at her oldest brother and watch him.

"I ain't touchin' this on with a ten-foot pole." The seasoned hunter mumbled after catching Sam's glance.

"My experience with fathers is limited, but I have found that most daddies are dicks." Cal said petulantly. Dean's eyes narrowed and she knew he was starting to get offended. "I'm just sayin'."

"Callie, that's not fair." Uncle Bobby interrupted the two before Dean could lay into her and actually test if she would shoot him.

"We can discuss this after we figure what the fuck is happening." Dean said with a pointed look at his incredibly annoying sister. Cal sighed and nodded reluctantly.

"Found it." Uncle Bobby caught everyone's attention. Cal had been trying to return to her shells since the only thing they had known was there were fighting ghosts.

What?" Sam inquired before pressing a shell packed tight.

"The symbol you saw- the brand on the ghosts." He replied while reading the information in his book. Calandra grew curious and abandoned her rock salt and ammo to stand behind her grumpy hunter.

"Yeah?" Sam grew curious also. Even Dean leaned from his own book and listened intently to his surrogate father.

"Mark of the Witness." Uncle Bobby answered simply, like everyone just knew what he meant.

"Witness? Witness to what?" Sam was obviously the only smart one. He always asked the good questions.

"The unnatural. None of them died what you'd call ordinary deaths. See, these ghosts- they were forced to rise. They woke in agony. They were like rabid dogs. It ain't their fault. Someone rose them...on purpose." the older hunter explained to the three siblings. Cal processed his words. Sam concentrated on the information as well; memorizing and filing it away. Dean needed more to go on.

"Who?" Sam's curiosity knew no bounds. Uncle Bobby gave him an exasperated look.

"Do I look like I know? But whoever it was used a spell so powerful it left a mark, a brand on their souls. Whoever did this had big plans." Uncle Bobby glanced down at his book, "It call, 'The Rising of The Witnesses.' It figures into an ancient prophecy."

Dean sat up in his seat, "Wait, wait. What- what book is that prophecy from?"

Cal could read her uncle pretty well. He shifted his eyes over to hers briefly. She could read it in his eyes. Bobby Singer really didn't want her in the room for this conversation. Nothing good was going to come of it.

"Well, the widely distributed versions' just for tourists, you know. But long story short- Revelations. This is a sign, kids."

Cal's blood ran cold in her veins. She saw her brothers toss worried glances at each other before they brought their full attention to the older man.

"A sign of what?" they asked cautiously in unison.

"The apocalypse."

Dean did not look happy at that proclamation. His face was a perfect picture of stunned. Sam was equally stunned. His was mixed with disbelief however. And Uncle Bobby looked worried. Nothing really threw him for a loop anymore. But Calandra could feel it on her face and in her blood. She was terrified.

"Apocalypse?" it was like he didn't believe what he was hearing. Dean had to stand up to keep his emotions from spiraling. "The apocalypse, apocalypse? The four horsemen, pestilence, five-dollar-a-gallon-gas apocalypse?"

"Saying it more doesn't make it less true." Cal snapped. The men spared her glance, but not a reply. It ruffled her feathers.

"That's the one." Uncle Bobby, the bearer of bad news, nodded his head in agreement. "The rise of the witnesses is a- a mile marker." Cal shifted uncomfortably. Now she knew why he didn't want her here for this conversation. The young girl was outrageously too young for this moment.

"Okay, so what do we do now?" Sam looked between the two other men.

"Road trip. Cal drops out of school and we road trip." Dan answered immediately, "Grand Canyon, Star Trek Experience, Bunny Ranch." this time Dean shifted his gaze to his sister, "Sorry, that one is for the men. You are way too young for such things." Uncle Bobby rolled his eyes in time with Cal.

"First things first, how about we survive our friends out there?" he pulled the kids back to the topic at hand.

"Great! Any ideas aside from staying in this room until Judgement Day?" Dean did not look too thrilled about leaving this room.

Uncle Bobby pointed to a book resting open before him. "It's a spell to send the witnesses back to rest. Should work."

"Should. Great." Sam did not look happy about the uncertainty of the situation.

"If I translate it correctly. I think I got everything we need in the house." the older hunter started writing down the spell in English. Dean looked around the iron walls fondly.

"Any chance you got everything we need here, in this room?"

"So, you thought our luck was gonna start now all of a sudden?" Dean actually looked crestfallen, "Spell's got to be cast over an open fire."

Sam perked at the information. "The fireplace in the library."

"Bingo." her Uncle checked over the paper once more.

"That's just not as appealing as a, uh, ghost-proof panic room, y'know?" Cal's oldest brother looked very worried. That worried Calandra.

"DeDe..." Cal began as Uncle Bobby started to gather his books.

"Listen, baby girl, it will be fine." Dean interrupted his baby sister, "We are going to get this spell ready, cast it and everything will be alright. You are going to stay here and keep safe in this room." he was shoving shells in his jacket pockets.

"But, DeDe..."

"We can argue about this later, but I need you here where nothing can get you. Believe me, those hunters did not go quickly." Dean paused to level his gaze to his sister's height, "I need you to stay safe. I need that right now."

Cal stared into her brother's green eyes. She stared into the olive pools and she could see that behind all the bravado and witty banter, her brother was terrified. Whether it was the threat of the apocalypse or the idea of her or Sam or Uncle Bobby getting hurt, she didn't know. She just knew that her brother was terrified of something and she understood that if she stayed in this room and kept herself safe, that he would be less terrified. Because it could either be the impending doom or the thought of one of them dying. But she could make it better by not being one of them in danger.

"You come back, Dean Winchester." Cal said firmly, "You come back with Sam and Uncle Bobby. Or I'm kicking someone's ass."

Dean smirked. She knew that her fire was something that he thoroughly enjoyed seeing on full display. She knew it was just because he thought that it would keep boys away from her. But to see the amusement dance in his eyes helped calm her.

"Don't try to get me to make promises I can't keep." he answered, smirk still curving his lips, "I can promise at least one of us will make it."

"Good enough for me." Cal nodded her head, "I hope it is Sam. He is a pushover."

The echoing laugh she tricked from her brother made her smile broadly despite the circumstances. A light kiss was pressed to her cheek and she could feel him still laughing at her joke. It felt nice to see the joy, however temporary it was, on his face. Some of the cold fear was chased from her body and replaced with warm love.

"He is kind of a sissy." Dean murmured. Cal giggled. "Stay safe, Ally. We'll talk after we get this over with."

"Don't die." she returned as the men started gathering at the door. The young girl took a mental picture of them, in the off chance one didn't come back.

That, while highly unlikely, was still in the realm of possibilities.

Calandra gathered her sawed off and four shells. She figured that she would have them for just in case. She would be in the ghost proof room, but you could never be too prepared. Uncle Bobby, with his arms full of books, paper and his shotgun, stood in front of her and regarded her carefully.

"I'll be fine. I will not leave this room. Not a single foot until I get the all clear from you or my brothers." she answered his unasked question. "I will also keep the door open so I can hear you. I will be safe, Uncle Bobby."

"I know, Callie. Stay alert. Shoot anything that moves." her adoptive father looked mildly worried. He knew she wouldn't leave this room and he also knew she would shoot anything that she didn't recognize. He trusted her. So, he turned to the boys, "Cover each other. And aim careful. Don't run out of ammo until I'm done, or they'll shred you. Ready?"

Cal watched them leave. She knew that one or two of them might not come back. She knew that, but she had a lot of faith that they all would come back. She knew her brothers and she knew their skills. She knew her Uncle Bobby and she knew his skills. Today would not be the day that should be orphaned tonight. No matter how hard the spirits around here tried.

And they were trying very hard. Because they had paused at the bottom of the stairs to the house and she could hear Dean talking to someone. Until Uncle Bobby stepped in and told him to shoot, not talk. A small smile formed on her lips at the indignation from her brother. And then they disappeared.

And then all the shotgun blasts started.

One right after another. So many. And all Cal could do was stare at the ceiling and listen to the yelling and the muttering and the shotgun blasts. And Cal actually prayed. She prayed to the Lord above and asked for protection for her family. Because while they weren't too worried, the young girl was terrified. She hated them in danger and just wanted them to stay at home with them and chase boys away. But here they were, shooting spirits and casting spells.

Cal felt someone staring at her.

Her hands raised quickly as her head snapped down towards the doorway.

There stood the most beautiful sight. A woman with long, wavy blonde hair. Her eyes crystal blue and her face smooth. She may have been covered in dust, but the beauty she held when she was alive shined through and the barrel of the gun dipped down in awe. Evelyn Waterson was standing just outside the Devil's Trap painted on the floor in front of the doorway. She was smiling lightly and staring at her daughter.

"Momma..." Cal began so softly, she barely heard herself.

"Pumpkin pie." Evelyn's smooth voice drifted to Cal and caressed her soul. "You are so grown and so beautiful."

"Momma, momma, why are you here?" Cal stuttered. It was so hard for her to wrap her head around what she was seeing. Logically, she knew that her mother couldn't come back. Dean had burned her body, with her permission, and she knew that her mother had moved on. But that was the problem with this Rise of The Witnesses. Momma had witnessed the supernatural and died because of it.

She knew that.

But she didn't want to believe it just yet.

"Pumpkin, why are you holding a gun?" Evelyn's brow creased slightly as she eyed the weapon in her daughter's small hands.

"Oh!" Cal glanced down at the shotgun in her hand like she had forgotten it was there, "Um, there are spirits around that want to hurt me and my brothers. It is supposed to protect me from them."

"I know what it is for, I am asking why it is in your hands." her mother's tone drew sharper, "I told that damned John Winchester not to let you near any of this stuff!"

"Well, he didn't." Cal took a step back. "He's dead. But Uncle Bobby took me in and Dean and Sam help me when they can. It was my choice."

"Like it was your choice to hit me in the head with that fire poker?" Evelyn's gaze could cut butter it was so hot and sharp.

"I-I didn't know, momma. No one told me about that kind of stuff." Cal felt her heart start to race with anxiety. She could see her mother's head snapping to the side, her memories becoming intrusive. "I didn't know."

"Just a stupid little girl." Evelyn's ghost gazed piercingly at the poor girl, "The only thing you were good at was running. Oh, I remember you running away from me. The thrice damned demon in me cursed you six ways from Sunday for that. She couldn't track where you were going, so she had to run. That just put a lot of thoughts in her mind. All she shared with me. All the things she wanted to do to you since you made her work so hard."

"Momma..."

"Just wasn't smart enough to help me. Always about you."

Cal shouldered her weapon and fired a round of salt into her mother's chest. Evelyn's ghost disappeared, but her words rang through Calandra's brain.