Chapter One

Awaken

I don't own anything Supernatural.

I don't remember what it was like before … before falling.

I've been falling and I guess it's been a long time.

Usually I like to open my eyes and enjoy the dark abyss that has no bottom … the breeze that surrounds me as gravity takes me down. Peaceful.

I don't know if I'll land. Will it hurt? What is hurt? I don't remember.

Sometimes it feels like I'm floating.

I don't think I've ever gotten bored.

I like to sing songs to myself. Hum melodies that don't have words anymore.

I think I'm forgetting vocabulary, but I wouldn't know the difference.

My dress is soft and silky. My hands don't get sweaty. I'm perfectly cool.

Falling … falling … falling …

Open my eyes. Close my eyes. Open again. There's no difference.

I'm comfortable with that.

I stretch my limbs with no resistance.

I flip and twirl as I fall before going back to lying in the ocean.

My dark, calm ocean.

Am I dead? Am I alive?

Is someone looking for me?

I don't know … That's okay.

Falling is nice.

Open my eyes. Close my eyes.

I land hard.

I forgot I had a nose until there were too many smells to distinguish one from another. Some smells were nice. Some made me want to vomit. But there was something really close and reminded me of an old home I'd forgotten I had …

The back and side of my head feels like it's been crushed with a frying pan multiple times over. Now I really do think I'm going to vomit … breathe in … breathe out … breathe in …

I know there's commotion going on around me, but I can't focus on any one thing to figure it out. It's all … blurred? Blurred. Too many sounds.

My eyes are the last thing that want to open, so I take my time. I focus on my hearing, since that's what is causing the most ache at the moment. I can hear … okay.

There's a steady beeping going. Not incredibly rapid, but the most consistent sound I can pick up. I don't like it. It's loud. I can hear … footsteps. These footsteps must be made by someone large. The pacing is heavy, and more spaced out than the beeping. The person is pacing slowly or is very tall. I hear breathing close by me. It's soothing. There's more, but those sounds are farther away and I decide that my hearing is clear enough for now.

My head feels awful. I'm not going to focus on that.

I can try smells? Smells. The thickest smell is blood. Something must be very wrong around here, someone is very hurt.

Is it me?

Other smells … floor cleaner. Detergent. Pudding. Pie. There's the smell of a man, too … Men wear a type of smell … Cologne! I smell cologne. And leather.

I missed this during the fall. I missed having sensation.

After having answered the questions my brain most needed, I start feeling other things around me. My feet are warm, but not because the room is warm. There's a heated blanket on me. Someone next to me is holding my hand. I'm lying down … my head is heavily cushioned. My chest felt battered. I must've gone through a terrible accident.

The last thing to come to me is thirst. I'm so thirsty. In fact, my throat and tongue and lips are parched. Is this place a desert? I can't open my mouth to say anything, but I need to drink something. Water. I need water. I need to signal the person pacing … the person next to me …

My fingers twitch. Someone cries a gasp.

"Clara ..?!"

Clara. That's my name. The person, the man, knows me. Maybe he'll help the thirst.

"Clara! Are you there? It's me, Dean!"

"Did she move?!"

Two steps and the pacer is by my other side.

"She twitched-"

"Are you sure?!"

"Yes, I'm sure!"

How do I form words? I need help. I need water.

I open my eyes.

"Holy mother of -"

"Clara! You're here! You're okay!"

The lights in the room are, thankfully, very dim. A few blinks and I can focus on the pair of men at my bedside. One was tall with brown hair ... the other was stockier, with shorter and lighter hair. They're both incredibly concerned.

"Nurse! Nurse, we need some help in here!"

"Clara, we're so happy you're okay!"

These men looked on the verge of tears. Were they friends of mine?

Finally, after an absurdly large amount of effort, my lips parted …

"I need water," I croaked out.

By this time, a woman I assumed was the nurse (because she was checking some charts and the liquids connected to me) had come in and had heard my plea.

"Give me just a second, sweetheart … you have to be awake for a bit before we can give you anything to swallow …"

The man that had been holding my hand growled slightly on the other side of the room, having been waved away by the nurse, while the man still on my right smiled at me. Should I smile back?

A moment passed. The nurse retrieved a small cup of water with a straw, reclined my bed to an upright level, and then placed the cup on a swivel tray at chest height in front of me.

"Can you drink this from here?" The nurse politely asked.

I tried to whisper a yes, but the word was caught in my parched throat. Words failed me, but I picked up my hand and steadied the cup in front of me and pursed my lips just enough for me to suck the water. Water had never tasted so good.

Another silent moment, although from the looks of the other men in the room, it must have been a torturous moment. I finished the water and put the cup down while the nurse was writing away in her chart.

My thoughts felt clearer. The world around me was sharper. My head still ached, but I wanted to walk around, to run. I was fine.

"Am I in a hospital? Am I okay?" I asked.

The nurse responded.

"You've been in an accident, Clara. You've received some head trauma, and your upper body was battered, as well. Can you tell me if you remember this?"

"No. No, I don't."

"Hmm. Do you know the other men in the room with me?"

I looked at the men.

"I feel like I should know them … but … I don't."

The tall man got up and turned away slightly. The shorter man winced.

"That's okay, Clara. You have no traceable relatives, but these two men were the ones that brought you in. They have also brought in their proper identification and have the clearance to be here. Is it okay that they're here with you?"

I looked at them. Heck, I'll get real lonely by myself.

"Yeah, it's okay. When can I leave?"

"Well, that's up to the doctor, but we're glad you're here. I'm going out for a moment but here's my call button if you need anything. Food will be here shortly …" The nurse left.

"Clara … you don't remember me?" The tall man was almost in tears. He was beautiful, I felt sorry that I caused this.

"I'm sorry, I really don't know you. Either of you. Wait, this is a hospital, aren't they supposed to be incredibly strict on visiting hours? None of this makes sense. Why am I here?"

The tall man sat down next to me again. He wiped at his eyes. The other man stood at the foot of my bed.

"Clara, I'm Dean. Dean Winchester, and this is my brother Sam. We were three peas in a pod and lived on the run together-"

"On the run? From what?"

"Monsters, Clara. Real ones."

A flash. A woman with fangs trying to rip my throat out. Another flash. Someone that looked like me, but wasn't me, trying to cut me down. Third flash. A creature that looked like a dog but human sized. Werewolf.

"We know that might sound crazy-"

"Monsters. No, I … I remember that. I know that. Werewolves and vampires and shapeshifters. Wow. What a life. I was living that life?"

Dean continued.

"Actually, you were really good at it … like … really good. You saw the supernatural and just cut it down, saved a lot of lives along the way."

"Huh."

Sam looked back up at me.

"So, we all just. Lived together? Me with you two?"

Dean coughed and came to my left side.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that."

"Have we … Have we known each other for a long time?"

Sam answered this time.

"Yeah, actually it's been three years."

"How old am I?"

Dean laughed.

"You've actually never told us … but now we all know …" Dean looked at my wrist, where my hospital band was resting.

"Clara Jones, female, 25 years old."

"I'm old."

The guys chuckled. I didn't know them, but a part of my heart told me what they were saying was true.

"Why am I here, again?"

"Oh, right, that," Dean started, glancing at the ground.

"Well, there was a hit we stumbled upon but he had tracked us before we got him. Somehow, someway … he got you in your sleep. Now, Sammy and me, we're not deep sleepers, but it happened. We spent a week trying to find you, but you were okay. Because at first, you were just bait to the monster, but we played our cards wrong trying to rescue you … and Clara, you paid the price. I'm so sorry. We're sorry."

Sam turned away again.

"I can't …" Sam painfully gritted out, then left the room.

"Is everything okay?" I questioned.

"He needs time," Dean sighed.

I leaned over to pat Dean's hand.

"Let's eat."