Chapter One

Alyson woke up cold, sticky, and sore. She was lying in an uncomfortable position in the backseat of the Impala. It was dark, but there was light coming from somewhere.

She sat up slowly, taking in her body and making sure everything moved right. Nothing seemed to be broken in her own body, but . . . Dean was unconscious and there was blood all over the front of his shirt. He had a wound on his head too and it was bleeding profusely.

When they had crashed, Alyson had been flung over Dean's lap. The crash! What had actually happened? With as hard as she'd been thrown, she figured the Impala had been destroyed.

The right back door was bent inwards so there would be no getting out that way. Not to mention, there was a semi-truck blocking the way. The truck seemed to be connected to the car. The Impala seemed to have wrapped around the front of the truck

Alyson got on her knees and tried to figure out what to do. She needed to get out, but she couldn't open the other back door because Dean was leaning on it. He would fall out if the door was opened.

In the front, Sam and John were also unconscious. The windshield had been busted out, though, and she could get out that way. There was enough space between Sam and John for her to climb over the front seat without touching them.

She climbed into the front seat feet-first. She noticed that Sam and John had head wounds too.

One of the headlights of the semi-truck was shining from the right and into the front seat. It made pain flash behind her eyes. Maybe she had a head wound too, and she just didn't know it.

Alyson was halfway through the windshield when the driver-side door was ripped from the car – straight off its hinges. Someone grabbed her around the waist and pulled her out of the car.

She screamed as her feet hit the ground.

"Let me go!"

She elbowed whoever was holding her in the stomach and broke away to turn and look at her captor. An older man with black eyes . . .

Alyson hadn't been able to sense him – she was too busy with every other emotion raging in her. Worry. Panic. Fear. Helplessness. Hopelessness.

She didn't think she could feel anything else without exploding, and in her world she might physically explode, she wasn't sure.

She began shaking and having trouble breathing and the demon brought his hands up and wrapped them around her neck. At that point she really didn't care if she lived or died. She was just so tired. Tired of running and tired of fighting or learning to fight. These were demons that were after her. How was she supposed to fight that?

God, help me. I can't do this alone!

Her vision blurred as her lungs burned with the need to breathe.

Click.

"Let her go. Or I'll kill you, I swear."

The hands loosened on her neck and she drew in some much needed oxygen.

Thank you, she prayed silently.

"You won't. You're saving that bullet for someone else."

"You wanna bet?"

Alyson realized what had happened. Sam had woken up, seen her being attacked by the demon, and had threatened to use the Colt against him.

The man screamed and a cloud of black smoke came out of his mouth. The man fell to his knees and took in the damage.

"Did I do this?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she looked at Sam, who looked exhausted.

"Dad?" he said, but there was no response. He got the same lack of response when he called for Dean.

Alyson called the cops, told them where they were and what had happened, editing the demon part, of course. The paramedic brought in two helicopters and an ambulance. They checked her over and hadn't found any injuries even though she was covered in blood

The blood had to be Dean's – her jeans were stained red and the jacket Dean had loaned her had dried blood on it. She even had the stuff in her hair.

Alyson rode with Sam in the ambulance to the hospital because she couldn't ride in the helicopter with Dean. She stayed with Sam while they checked him over. Sam had a few cuts and bruises and his eye was swollen shut from where he'd been hit repeatedly earlier, but other than that he was fine.

One of the nurses gave Alyson a white T-shirt and a pair of blue scrubs. At least she had something clean to change into.

After Sam was given the go-ahead to leave the room he'd been taken to, Alyson went to the bathroom so she could get clean. She really wanted to be clean again! She felt sticky and gross, and her hair was stiff with Dean's blood.

She closed the door behind her and slowly unzipped Dean's jacket. It slipped down her arms and fell heavily to the floor. Next came the jeans, which were stuck to her thighs. The blood had almost glued the material to her skin. She had to splash water on the material just so it would come loose.

Her skin was a rusty color where the blood had soaked through her jeans. Her hands were covered also.

What she really needed was a shower.

Alyson washed her hands first, using only cold water, and she watched as the blood stained the liquid pink.

In the mirror above the sink her pale reflection stared back at her. The blood in her hair made it look like she'd died the tips a deep red.

Her lower lip trembled and she didn't even try to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. Two of the people she cared about most had been hurt in the accident – one of them was possibly dying – and here she was without a scratch on her.

How was that fair? And what was the point in her being able to heal herself when it just meant she would survive when other people wouldn't? Why couldn't she heal others? That would be better than being completely fine while others suffered.

Images of Dean lying against the door unconscious, broken, dying filled her mind.

After she cleaned her legs and her hair she got dressed in the hospital garb and then sank to the floor and sat against the wall. She brought her knees up and rested her head on them. She wrapped her arms around her legs and held on tight.

She didn't know how long she sat there letting tears flow freely, but eventually Sam came looking for her. He knocked and allowed her time to answer before opening the door and peeking in. When he saw her on the floor it seemed to take a moment for it to register in his mind what he was actually seeing.

"I, um . . . I waited, but when you didn't come out I got worried." When she didn't respond he continued. "Dad's awake. We can go see him if you want."

She shook her head. John wasn't who she wanted to see, though she was glad he was okay for Sam's sake.

"And Dean?" she asked and looked up. "He's not waking up . . . Is he?"

"The doctor said he's fighting very hard," Sam answered. He locked the bathroom door before going and sitting beside her. "We'll find a way to help him."

Alyson grabbed onto Sam's shirt and scooted closer to him.

"Can we see h-him?"

"Yeah. He's set up in a room now."

She laid her head against his arm and he awkwardly pulled her against him. She hadn't known she needed physical comfort until then.

Oh, how she needed to be held.

She gripped Sam's shirt so tightly now that her hand began to cramp. She didn't let go or loosen her hold at all. She couldn't risk him pulling away.

She heard Sam let out a sob of his own and . . . she was lost. She didn't know what to do. She figured Sam didn't either.

At least they weren't alone.

"I never thought I'd turn eighteen in a hospital. As far as parties go, this one sucks."

"What?" Sam asked.

They had both drained themselves dry by crying. Sam couldn't cry anymore at the moment. He just felt raw, like the slightest thing could set his nerves afire.

"Once midnight hits, I'll be eighteen."

"You never told us that."

Sam had probably come across her birth date when he'd been researching her after his dream about her, but he hadn't remembered it. He'd had no reason to believe she'd be anything other than another case for him. He never would've thought she'd become one of them and, even more than that, a friend to him.

"We were fighting demons. It didn't seem that important."

She finally let go of him and pulled away.

"We should get up soon. We're not doin' anybody any good in here."

Once they were both up Alyson hugged Sam again, which surprised him.

"Thank you," she said.

"No problem." He sighed. "I guess I should go talk to my dad."

"Right." She released him. "I'll come with you, I guess. See if he knows what to do."

Alyson tossed her bloody clothes in the bio-hazard trashcan that all hospitals had, but she kept Dean's jacket. Sam would help her get the blood off of it when he had the chance.

Sam led her out of the bathroom and to his dad's room. John's right arm was in a sling and he had a bandage around his leg where Sam had shot him. He was much better off than Dean, though, who had suffered major blood loss, internal damage, and head trauma.

The doctor's didn't know what to do for Dean. If medicine couldn't fix him, Sam would find something else that would. He would find some hoodoo priest to lay some mojo on him.

He'd found a faith healer before when Dean had almost died. Maybe he could find another one. He couldn't just let Dean die.

"Where's the Colt?" John asked.

"Does it matter?" Alyson asked sharply.

Sam felt the same way, so he was glad Alyson had said something. Dean was dying and his dad was worried about the Colt?

"We are hunting that demon and maybe it's huntin us too. That gun may be our only card."

"It's in the trunk," Sam said. "They dragged the car to a yard off I-83."

"A'right. You gotta clean out that trunk before some junkman sees what's inside."

"I already called Bobby. He's, like, an hour out. He's gonna tow the Impala back to his place."

"A'right. You guys go meet up with Bobby. You get that Colt and you bring it back to me, and you watch out for hospital security."

"I think I got it covered," Sam said and grinned a little.

"I made a list of things I need." John handed Sam a piece of paper. "Have Bobby pick 'em up for me."

Sam surveyed the list. "Acacia? Oil of Abramelin? What's this stuff for?"

"Protection."

Sam, who had been seated by his dad's bed, stood up and began to walk to the door. Alyson had been leaning against the wall by the door. She pushed away to follow him, but he turned back around.

"Hey, Dad? You know the demon . . . he said he had plans for me and children like me. You have any idea what he meant by that?

"No, I don't."

Sam nodded and turned to walk out the room. Alyson followed.

"Hey, do you mind going without me? I kind of wanna go and sit with Dean. I mean, I'll go if you need me, but . . .

"No, you can stay. I'm good. I'll take you to him."

She nodded gratefully and continued following him.

In the room Dean had been given, Dean was motionless on the bed. There were tubes stuck in him, down his throat, which were keeping him alive.

"You didn't tell me he couldn't breathe by himself."

"I'm sorry. Are you sure you wanna stay here by yourself?"

"Yes."

Alyson walked forward and moved the one comfortable chair toward the bed. When she sat down she curled herself onto the chair until she found a good position.

She nodded his way to let him know she was okay, that he could leave.

He didn't waste time.

Thirty minutes later Alyson hadn't moved from her seat. She wanted to move closer to Dean, to hold his hand or touch him in some way just in case he was aware enough to feel it, but he looked so fragile lying there.

His fingers had twitched a few times, but she didn't get her hopes up. He was in a coma and his muscles were spasming.

A knock startled her. She looked to the door and saw John limping into the room. She'd almost forgotten that he'd been shot in the leg.

"Hi," she said softly.

"You didn't go with Sam," he observed.

"I wanted to stay here. Dean shouldn't be alone."

John pulled up an uncomfortable chair and sat on the other side of Dean. Neither John nor Alyson spoke for the longest time. All Alyson could do was think about Dean dying. She knew Dean wasn't waking up on his own. His injuries were too extensive.

She hadn't known Dean long, but he'd already dug his way into her heart and she could feel a hole there now just at the thought of him dying.

"Look, I know I'm not your favorite person in the world right now," John said, and she looked at him.

"I don't dislike you," she said. "I just don't agree with how you treat Sam and Dean, and I think it's mess up that it took you being possessed for Dean to hear what he's always wanted to hear from you. That you were proud of him because he takes care of his family. I mean, you were never there and Dean never questioned you. Not once. Even when you didn't take the time to call . . . he never questioned anything you asked him to do."

She was surprised when John didn't argue or defend himself, but he did stare at her longer than she was comfortable with. She eventually had to turn away.

"You love him," she said. "You love both of them. I know that. You have a weird way of showing it, but you do love them."

"You care about Dean a lot. Don't you?"

"Yes, I do." She didn't even have to think about it. "I mean, I care about them both. They were there for me when I needed them. They're the most important people in my life."

"But you love Dean."

Alyson didn't say anything but she did nod minutely. She got up from her seat, stretched a little and then walked away.

She had somewhere she needed to be.

Like most hospitals, this one had maps placed strategically on the walls. She looked specifically for the chapel and when she found where it was on the map she went there directly.

The room wasn't big. It had two rows of seven pews and then there was an alter with a few lit candles on it. A few people were there, heads bowed and eyes closed, seated in the pews, but no one was at the altar.

That was where Alyson went. She knelt in front of a cross and then began to do something she hadn't done much of lately: she prayed.

Ever since her mom had died, Alyson had sort of had a mental block when she'd tried to pray. That block was no longer there because she was actively seeking God. She needed to speak to Him, and she wanted to hear His answer.

She thanked God for the blessing that she'd been given by meeting Sam and Dean. She thanked Him for bringing them into her life to teach her the things she needed to know to survive.

She also asked for forgiveness for not coming to Him sooner, for almost shutting Him out. She asked for forgiveness for doing things that probably weren't right because she was becoming a hunter. She didn't know what else to do other than what she was doing.

Then she asked for healing for Dean. She knew the doctors wouldn't be able to fix what was wrong. Right now all that was keeping Dean alive were machines and Dean's own fighting spirit. She asked God to give Dean the strength to wake up.

She had just realized she loved him. She didn't want to lose him.

Alyson was just coming out of the chapel when Sam got back to the hospital. He almost ran her over, actually. He was furious. He'd done as John had asked and had asked for Bobby to get the stuff on the list his Dad had given him.

He had the ingredients in one bag and he had Alyson's clothes in another bag. She hadn't asked him to get it for her, but he'd figured she might feel more comfortable in her owns clothes.

Alyson was following him now. She didn't say anything other than thank you when he handed her the bag with her clothes in it.

She slowed down when they reached Dean's room and she peeked in. She didn't go in, however, and she continued following Sam.

"John was in here earlier," she said. "He must've gone back to his room."

And that's where he was. He was back in his bed. Sam threw the bag of ingredients on the bed, hitting John's leg in the process. His dad barely flinched.

"You think I wouldn't find out?"

"What're you talkin' about?" John asked.

"The stuff from Bobby. You don't use it to ward off a demon, you use it to summon one."

When he'd given the list to Bobby the man had given him a strange look. Sam had seen it and had wanted to know what was wrong. That's when Bobby told him the list hadn't been the ingredients for protection.

"You're planning on bringing the demon here and having some stupid macho showdown!"

"What're you talkin' about?" Alyson asked.

"I have a plan," John said.

"That's exactly my point! Dean is dying and you have a plan. You know what? You care more about killing this demon than you do saving your own son!"

"Do not tell me how I feel!" John shouted. "I am doing this for Dean."

"How? How is revenge gonna help Dean? You're not thinkin' about anybody but yourself. It's the same selfish obsession."

"That's funny. You know, I thought this was your obsession too. This demon killed your mother, killed your girlfriend! You begged me to be a part of this hunt. If you had killed that thing when you'd had the chance, none of this would've happened."

"It was possessing you, Dad. It would've killed you too."

"Yeah, and your brother would be awake right now."

"Shut up," Alyson yelled. She had enough. "Both of you just shut up. Please."

She couldn't believe Sam and John were wasting time arguing when Dean was in a coma. Couldn't they fight later once everything was settled?

Doctors rushed past the room and Alyson went to see what was going on. The doctors were going into Dean's room.

Alyson could almost feel the blood leave her face.

"Dean," she said as she rushed out of the room.

Sam followed her to the room only to find that they couldn't enter. Dean had flat-lined and the doctors were trying to bring him back. They were using a defibrillator, trying to make this heart work. The doctors tried at least three times before it worked.

Alyson hadn't realized until the relief hit her how tense she had become. She'd grabbed onto Sam's arm and it was like her fingers had locked. Her hands didn't want to open again so she could let go.

Suddenly she felt something go through her and the scent of leather and alcohol and just a hint of smoke lingered in the air.

"Dean," Sam whispered.

"You felt that too?" she asked and looked at him. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know. Maybe he's having an out of body experience or something."

"You mean, like, astral projection?"

"Yeah. I wanna know what Dad thinks."

"Yeah, okay. But, Sam, try to keep the fighting to a minimum, okay?"

"What do you mean you felt something?" John asked when they got through telling him what had happened.

"I mean it felt like Dean. Like he was there, just out of eyeshot or something. Do you think it's even possible? Do you think his spirit could be around?"

"Anything's possible."

Sam nodded. "Well, there's one way to find out." Sam stood up. "I gotta pick up something, I'll be back."

Alyson stood there awkwardly after Sam left.

"Do you need anything? Or do you want something? I'd like to go back and sit with Dean if you're okay alone."

"In a minute. I wanna tell you something."

She raised an eyebrow, wondering what John could possibly want to tell her.

"Dean's fond of you. He probably doesn't even realize it yet, but he is. He's stubborn and he'll probably try to push you away. Don't let him."

She smiled slightly. John was talking like he knew Dean was going to wake up and be okay. Even though she didn't believe that herself, it was nice hearing the confidence come from someone else.

When Alyson got to Dean's room she curled up in the chair by the bed and nodded off. She felt as if she hadn't slept in forever.

Alyson heard someone calling her name from a distance. She ignored it until she recognized the voice. Dean was calling to her.

Her eyelids snapped open to find Dean standing right in front of her.

"Dean?"

How was he awake and able to stand? The only visible wound he had was a cut along his brow line.

"You can hear me?" Dean asked, clearly surprised.

"Why wouldn't I be able to hear you?"

Dean moved out of her eye line and she gasped. Dean was still lying in the bed, tubes attached to him.

"I'm dreaming, aren't I?"

"Well, you're asleep, but you aren't dreaming. You're astral projecting. I saw you were asleep and called for you. I didn't think it'd actually work."

Alyson had read somewhere that while one slept his or her soul could roam free, but she'd never experienced it. It was trippy.

It got even weirder when she stood up. She felt a tug behind her navel and shuddered. She turned and saw her sleeping form still in the chair.

"Oh, this is so weird."

"Yeah, tell me about it."

"When I wake up, I'll just automatically go back in my body?"

"Yeah, somethin' like that." Dean paused. "Where's Sam?"

"I don't know. He said he needed to pick something up and then he'd be back."

Alyson looked at the Dean lying on the bed and then at the one standing with her.

"If you were to get back into your body . . . would you wake up? Would you be okay?"

"I would still have to heal, but yes, I'd wake up."

Alyson was fairly certain he couldn't just lie down and go back into his body. It wasn't like the movies.

Sam walked in then holding a brown paper bag. He looked at Alyson – the one on the chair, obviously – and then at Dean – the one on the bed.

"Hey," he said softly. "I think maybe you're around, and if you are . . . don't make fun of me for this, but there's one way we can talk."

Sam took a box holding a Ouija board out of the bag he was holding.

"Oh, you gotta be kiddin' me," Dean said.

Sam closed the door and then went to sit in the middle of the room. He put the board down in front of him and put the planchette on it, placing his fingers on the planchette.

Alyson didn't like this one bit. Ouija boards were doorways for demons if not used properly. Plus . . . wasn't a Ouija board supposed to be a way of communicating with the dead? Dean wasn't dead yet.

"Dean? Are you here?"

"Oh, I feel like I'm at a slumber party," Dean said. He sat down across from Sam. "This isn't gonna work."

He put his fingers on the other side of the planchette and it moved. Sam seemed relieved and Dean was in shock.

"It's good to hear from you. It hasn't been the same without you, Dean."

"No kidding."

Sam was near tears even as Dean began moving the planchette again.

"H . . . U . . . N . . . Hunt? What, hunting? Are you hunting?"

Dean moved the planchette to yes.

"Dean, it's in the hospital, what you're hunting. Do you know what it is?"

"One question at a time, dude."

"What is it?" Alyson asked.

"I don't think it's killing people." Dean's hands began to move. "I think it's taking them. You know, their time is just up."

"A reaper," Sam said, looking at the board. "Dean, is it after you?"

Dean moved his hands to yes.

"If it's here naturally . . . there's no way to stop it."

"Yeah. You can't kill death. I'm screwed, Sam."

So . . . he was dying and there was nothing he could do about it.

"No," Sam and Alyson said in unison.

"There's gotta be a way," Sam added and stood up. "Dad will know what to do."

Sam left the room and Dean stood up to face Alyson.

"Are you okay?"

She shook her head. She felt like she wanted to cry, but tears couldn't come from a spirit. Not physical tears, anyway.

"A reaper, huh?" Wow . . . Like an actual angel of death.

"Yeah."

"Hm . . . Dean . . . If you're not gonna wake up I need to tell you something now."

"Okay."

"I don't think I was meant to die. I just think I was meant to think I was."

"How do you figure?"

"Remember what the demon said? If I had died and if my mother had been spared, I wouldn't be where I am now. It was like my mom had to die and get me where I am . . . with you guys."

"Like Sam with Jessica? She was an obstacle the demon needed out of the way."

"Yeah. I think that demon has plans for both of us."

"Then promise me somethin'."

"What?"

"Stay with Sammy. For your sake and for his."

"Where else am I gonna go?" she asked.

Sam came back in the room holding John's journal and he sat on the edge of Dean's bed.

"Hey. So dad wasn't in his room. But I got Dad's journal, so who knows? Maybe there's somethin' in here."

Sam opened the journal and began flipping through the pages, stopping whenever he found anything about reapers. Dean moved closer so he could read over Sam's shoulder.

After a moment Dean looked up and said, "Well, crap," and then began walking out of the room.

Alyson looked at her body on the chair and then at the door Dean had gone out of. She wondered if it was okay for her to follow, but then she decided to just risk it and go.

"Dean, what's goin' on?" she asked and ran to catch up to him.

"I met this girl earlier. I thought she was a spirit, like me, but now I think she's a reaper."

They ended up in a room that was empty save for a bed with a short black-haired woman sitting on it.

"Hi, Dean," she said.

She looked at Alyson but didn't say anything.

"You know, you read the most interesting things," he said. "For example, did you know that reapers can alter human perception? I sure didn't. Basically, they can make themselves appear however they want. Like, say, um . . . a pretty girl. You're much prettier than the last reaper I met."

"I was wondering when you'd figure it out," she said.

"I should've known." Dean began to pace. "That whole accepting fate rap of yours was far too laid back for a dead girl. But the mother and the body . . . I'm still tryin' to figure that one out."

"It's my sandbox," she said patiently. "I can make you see whatever I want."

Dean looked at Alyson suspiciously. "Is she real?"

"She's very real," the reaper said.

Dean looked back at the reaper. "So, what is this, like, a turn on for you? Huh? Toyin' with me?"

"You didn't give me much choice. You saw my true form and flipped out. Kinda hurts a girl's feelings. This was the only way I could get you to talk to me."

"Okay, fine," Dean said. "We're talkin'. What do you wanna talk about?"

Alyson had just been watching, not knowing the back story here enough to comment on anything. Now, however, she was feeling a pull on her chest and she gasped. It didn't hurt, but it was uncomfortable and she hadn't expected it.

"What're you doin' to her?" Dean asked the reaper.

"I'm not doing it," she answered. "Her body is trying to wake up. She needs to get back to it or her connection will be broken. She'll be stuck."

"I can't leave you like this," Alyson said to Dean.

Dean looked away. "I don't think you have a choice."

"Dean . . ."

She felt pressure against her cheek as Dean's hand fit against it. There was no warmth as there would've been had they both been awake and in the flesh.

"Thank you," he said. "You stayed on my side these last few days and I needed that."

"Well . . . um . . ."

"And Dad was wrong," he interrupted. "I wouldn't have pushed you away . . . much."

He removed his hand from her cheek.

"Go. Don't die because of me."

Alyson knew how guilty Dean would feel if that actually happened, so she nodded and whispered, "Good-bye."

She floated away from him and was pulled back into her body.

I so wanted to put Dean's POV in this, but since he's just supposed to forget everything anyway it seemed kind of pointless. I added a few things to this episode, like the whole chapel scene and a few lines of conversation between Dean and Alyson - and let me tell you writing Sam is hard for me! Well, not writing Sam, exactly, but writing his POV and getting into his head. Anyway, let me know what you guys think.

P.S. Sorry about not updating my Loki story, if you guys are reading it. I lost the paper I was writing on so I had to search for it unless I wanted to start the chapter over. Glad to say I found it and I will be writing it along with this one!