Hello, welcome to my new fanfic, thanks for reading and giving this story a chance.

To the readers of my other fic, I will keep writing it, I just had this idea in my head, and I needed to do it, before I could start writing my other fic again. So don't worry lol.

This will not regularly be updated, only when I find time, as my other fanfic still has my main priority.

Please let me know what you think? And don't tell me I don't know anything about self-harm, because I do.

Let's get on with the story then, shall we? :)

Chapter 1: I can't drown my demons they know how to swim

Things got bad when Dean died. My best friend went to hell, while I was still here. I should have gone. I should have been the one to have made that deal for Sam. I should have been there when Sam died, I should have been there for Dean. Then maybe I would have been at the crossroads first, keep him from making that deal by making it myself. But no, I was at Bobby's. Like I've been for the past ten years. I should have gone with them when they went to search their father. But Bobby wouldn't let me go, for which I don't blame him. He's my adoptive father after all, he was just looking out for me. But I just can't shake the feeling that I could have – should have done something. That's why I left when Dean died.

I felt guilty for not being there, and why wasn't I there? Because I was kept captive by Bobby. Okay, captive isn't the right word, but still, he prevented me from going with the boys. They stopped by to ask me if I wanted to come with them, I was their best friend after all, and I was good at hunting. But Bobby wouldn't let me. Man, I love that guy, but I was damn angry at him right then. I wanted to go, wanted to keep them from doing stupid things – like I knew they would do. I was proven right two years later, when Dean made that deal for Sam. And where was I? At Bobby's. Even when he was out with Dean, looking for Sam, I wasn't allowed to leave the house. Too dangerous, he said. For God's sake, I knew how to hunt, I knew how to protect myself, Bobby was the one who taught me after all. But he wouldn't let me go anyway. But when Dean died, I just couldn't take it anymore, so I left. I drove off on my Harley, out to find a way to bring Dean back, just like Sam had done a couple of days before.

I left, because all that time being at Bobby's, was what had made all those things happen. It was my fault they happened. If I had been there, if I had been stubborn enough to just go with them, I had been 22 at the time, I was an adult, Bobby couldn't keep me there if I had just been stubborn enough, all those things wouldn't have happened. Not wanting to just sit on my ass doing nothing this time, I left. Bobby didn't even knew I was gone. I left him a letter, but didn't say goodbye to him. Later I regretted that, but I knew it was the only way to leave.

This was almost four months ago. I haven't spoken or seen Sam or Bobby in all this time. I hadn't found anything to bring Dean back either. I had been on my own, cruising from motel room to motel room, from town to town, just me and my Harley, and some cash I had saved up. But I had found nothing. Of course I had gone to the crossroads demon, tried to make a deal, but the demon was gone, or just refused to show up. So that was a dead end. After that, I read book after book, trying to find something – anything, but ended up empty handed.

I've been in this motel room in Pontiac, Illinois for about a week now, feeling tired. And at this point, I have also given up all hope to get Dean back, and have finally accepted that he is gone – forever. The way I've been behaving lately, falling back into my old habits, is me accepting. Drinking, smoking, and I started self-harming again. I'm just such a failure, I shouldn't be alive. I should have been the one to go to hell, then Dean would have still been alive. I would have died, but I couldn't care less about that. I'm 26, nice age to die, I guess.

I'm lying on the bed, my arms full of fresh cuts, the blood seeping into the sheets. Vaguely I realize that I will have to pay for this later, but right now, I welcomed the numb feeling cutting always gives me, the way it always clears my head, and makes me able to think clearly for a while. To think about my death. I've been plotting my suicide for a few days now, I was just looking for the perfect way to go. As a hunter, I had a various collection of guns and knives, but when I left on my Harley, I didn't have the space to take much with me. The things I managed to take were Dean's gun, my own hunting knife, my gun and a few little blades. I already know I am not going to use a knife, or Dean's gun, it just doesn't feel right. So probably, I will be using my own gun. I also don't know for sure yet when I'll be going, but I was thinking of going in a few days, the day when Dean will be dead for precisely four months.

While fantasizing about my death, the tiredness slowly started to cloud over, and feeling numb, I fell asleep, only to be haunted by nightmares about Dean dying. I hadn't been there, but my mind kept visualizing how he had been torn apart by Hellhounds. It haunted my dreams, that's why I usually try to stay awake for as long as I can, but you can't stay awake forever. Too bad.

When I woke up, light was shining brightly through the windows. After getting up, I stumbled towards the bathroom. I stepped inside the shower and let the hot water run over my thin body. As always, the cuts started to sting like hell, but I enjoyed the burn it gave me. After a few minutes of just standing and feeling the burn, I washed myself and got out of the shower.

Standing in front of the mirror, I dried my hair. I looked at my reflection and once again, like I always have done, I hate what I see. Long, curly auburn hair, pale skin, bags underneath my dark brown eyes. Scars all over my thin body, old ones and new ones. Disgusting.

I quickly dried myself, walked out of the bathroom and got dressed. I put on a black, long-sleeved t-shirt, under a Metallica shirt that once belonged to Dean. Then my favorite black skinny jeans with studded belt and my black Dr. Martens to finish the look. I put in my 10mm stretcher and strapped on the studded, leather bracelet Sam had given me for my twentieth birthday. I walked over to the bedside table and grabbed the necklace that I had put there last night. It was the necklace Dean had always worn, the one he had gotten from Sam for Christmas. At first, I didn't want it, I wanted Sam to have it. But he wanted me to have it, so I accepted it and wore it every day.

Just when I had pulled it on, there was a knock on the door. I tugged on my sleeves, making sure they were down and opened the door.

Who stood on the other side of the door, was totally not someone I had been expecting to see. I was immediately pulled into a bear-hug by the tall man.

"Sam, I can't breathe," I gasped.

He chuckled and slowly let go of me. "I'm sorry, it's just so good to see you, Jayden."

I smiled at him. "It's good to see you too, Sammy. But, why are you here? And how did you find me?"

"I was in town, and was going to rent a room here at this motel, when I saw your Harley outside of the motel. So I went to the reception desk and asked which room you were staying in, by the way, using your actual name is not really smart, we've told you that before. Anyway, I checked myself in, dropped off my stuff in my own room and then I came to see you," he rambled.

Processing what he had said, I smiled fondly at him. I hadn't realized how much I had missed him. "I'm glad you did, I really missed you, ya big moose," I said.

He grinned and said, "Still using the nickname, I see."

"Of course I am, you're stuck with it for the rest of your life," I grinned widely at him.

We were still standing at the door, which Sam noticed before I did. "Can I come in?" he asked me.

My grin faltered and I said, "Oh yes, of course, sorry, come in."

We sat down on the small couch and talked about how we've been doing for the past months, about which we both were very vague. I don't know why Sam was being vague, but I was because of my self-destructive behavior, which I always tried to keep hidden as much as I could. He doesn't know about the cutting, neither does Bobby, and neither did Dean. And I would like to keep it that way.

"So, why are you in town?" he asked me.

"For the past few months, I've been going from town to town, riding my Harley for as long as I could without falling asleep, just keeping my mind off things by riding. And when I finally can't stay awake any longer, I crash in motel rooms," I said, shrugging.

He slowly nodded, and he got that expression on his face I knew he always got when he was about to talk about some serious shit. "Jay, how does Bobby feel about you being away from home? Does he even know?"

I rolled my eyes. "Of course he knows, Sammy. It's been four months."

"Right. But I can't believe he just let you go, after all the times he didn't let you come with us, and now you're here on your own, I just don't understand he let you go," he said thoughtfully.

Avoiding his gaze, I said, "He didn't just let me go, he didn't know I left."

I felt his gaze on my face, but I couldn't look him in the eyes.

"Jay, you just left without telling him?" he asked me.

"I left him a letter," I said softly.

He snorted. "Yeah, like that makes it okay to just leave without even saying goodbye. Can you imagine how he must have felt when he realized you were gone?"

I tried to say something, but he kept talking.

"I mean, Dean had only been dead for a few days and then you just disappeared."

"I left hi-" I tried again, but was interrupted.

"Yeah, you left him a letter, but that doesn't make it alright, Jay. No matter how old you are, you're still his little girl. Dean, who was almost like a son to him, died and you left him alone, without even saying goodbye," he ranted, and I felt guilty, because what he said was true. But there was something about this that was bothering me.

"But wasn't that exactly what you did?" I silently asked him.

His annoyed expression saddened when he realized I was right. "Yes, you're right. Sorry Jayden, I shouldn't have been so blunt with you. I just –"

"Had to let out some of your frustration of the past months," I finished him. "It's okay, I get it. And what you were saying is true, I shouldn't have just left. But Sammy, I needed to be alone, and no way he was letting me go if I told him I was leaving."

He put his arm around my shoulders, sighed and laid his head down on my shoulder. "I know. I understand. He's very protective of you," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

I chuckled softly. "Yes, he is."

I thought about the way him and me had met, I had been sixteen at the time…

I shivered while trying to find an abandoned building to sleep in. It had been five months already. Five months of being homeless, no money, eating food out of skips. I know it had been my own choice, but sometimes I wondered if I had made the wrong one. But every time I thought about that, there was a voice that immediately said it had been a good choice, a very good choice. I couldn't have stayed in that house, what if he had come back? I shivered again, but this time not because I was cold. It had definitely been the right choice.

I found a building which looked like it could at least give some form of shelter, went inside and laid down against a far wall. I pulled the blanket over me, the one I had found somewhere a few months ago, and had always kept with me.

Waiting for the tiredness to cloud over, I suddenly heard a faint noise, like someone stepping on a twig or something. I kept quiet, listening if I heard anything else, but it remained quiet in the building. I relaxed and slowly started to fall asleep.

Right before I fell asleep, I heard the noise again, this time much closer. I shot up and looked around me, trying to see something in the darkness. As I did so, I heard another noise, but it was a different one, one that made me shiver. A chuckle.

"You know, with your eyes, trying to see me won't do you much good, darling. You won't be able to see me anyway, while I can see you perfectly clear."

The voice that had suddenly spoken up, made me tremble in fear. What did he mean, he could see me clearly? It was pitch black in here! He was talking bullshit, wasn't he?

"W-what do you m-mean?" I managed to stutter out.

He chuckled again. "That, my darling, will soon become clear to you," he said, and I hated the way he called me darling.

"But, for now," he continued. "Sleep."

I felt something hit my head with great strength and unconsciousness consumed me.

When I came to, I realized I was tied to a pole, sitting on the floor. I looked around me. There were other people there, and by the way they looked at me, I knew asking them for help would be useless.

One of them, a girl with sandy blonde hair, walked up to me, and saw I was awake.

"Hey, Dan, she's awake," she called out to someone.

Dan came into view. He looked at me darkly, and then chuckled. I shivered when I recognized the chuckle, it was the same one I had heard in the building. He was the one who had attacked me, and had taken me here.

He crouched in front of me, and cupped my trembling cheek with his hand. "Darling, don't be afraid, it will soon be over, and then we will be together, forever."

What the hell was he talking about?! What will soon be over? What does he mean with being together forever? And why did he keep calling me darling?

He stood up and walked over to a table. He took something from the stuff that was laying on it, and it wasn't until he turned back to me, that I could see what it was. A knife.

Fuck, fuck, fuck was he going to kill me? He walked over to me, stopped a few inches away from my feet and crouched again. He took the knife to his arm and made a cut. Blood started to seep out of the wound. He brought his arm close to my face.

"Drink," he said. I shook my head, eyes wide. No way in hell I was going to drink someone's blood. I wasn't a vampire or something.

He hissed at me and I watched in horror as I saw fangs come into his mouth. He was a vampire. But that's not possible, they're not real! Almost immediately, another voice in my head said it was very real. How would I explain the freaking fangs then? I couldn't. It was real. He was a vampire.

"Lex, come over here, I need some help. She's stubborn," he called out, and I saw the blonde woman walk over to us.

She stood behind me and gripped my head tight, forcing me to open my mouth.

Just as Dan brought his arm to my face again, I heard a door bust open, but I couldn't see it from my position.

I heard a swoosh and suddenly Lex was on the floor, an arrow covered with blood sticking out of her chest. I heard more swooshes and thuds when the bodies hit the floor. Dan was still standing, looking at me longingly when at last, he too got an arrow through his chest.

"Dead man's blood, ya son of a bitches," I heard a gruff voice say.

After that, I could hear several slashing sounds, followed by soft thuds, and rolling sounds. What was that? Did he cut of their heads or something?

I tried to see who had come to rescue me, but I was tied up rather tight and couldn't move.

I heard footsteps nearing me, and an older man, somewhere in his early forty's came into view. He had a beard, wore a worn baseball cap and had kind eyes.

"Hey, kid, everything's okay now, don't be afraid," he said, and he walked over to me and untied the ropes that had held me captive. He reached his hand out to me, to help me up, and I took it, glad to get up from the cold floor.

"Hello, earth to Jayden," Sam snapped me out of my thoughts.

"Huh, what?" I asked him, feeling a bit dazed.

He chuckled. "I forgot you do that," he said.

"Do what?"

"Just randomly zone out, completely lost in thoughts," he said jokingly, and I knew he wasn't mad at me for doing it.

I chuckled as well, though it probably sounded a bit forced.

"What were you thinking about?" he asked me curiously.

"About how Bobby and I had met," I admitted.

"When he saved you from those vampires?" he asked me. Sam knew the story just as well as I did.

I nodded my head. "What I still can't believe, after all those years, is that he just took me in. He knew I had slept on the streets for five months, as I had told him, and I must have smelled awful."

Sam thought for a while, before answering me, "I think he realized there was more to you than that. I mean, you've spent 16 years of your life in that hellhouse, which you survived. Bobby didn't know that at the time, but I think he felt how strong you was."

I shrugged. "Could be."

His phone rang, he took it out and looked who was calling. He pressed the call away.

"Don't you need to answer that?" I asked him.

He shook his head. "No, no-one important," he said, and he gave me a forced smile.

His phone went off again, this time it was a text message. His eyes widened when he read it, which he tried to hide by yawning.

"Look, Jay, it was nice catching up with you, but I'm going to get some sleep, if you don't mind. I haven't slept in like, three days," he said, and he got up.

"No, sure, go ahead, I won't leave, I promise," I said, and I gave him a small smile.

He smiled back at me and rushed out of the room.

Okay. That was weird. This was strange behavior, even for Sam. I was very curious about why he was acting this way, but I was going to let it go. Just for the moment.

With Sam here, my plans would be a hell of lot harder to do. Maybe I should just leave, go to another motel, and do it there. But I promised him I wouldn't leave… Dammit.

But on the other side, it wasn't like I have never broken a promise before. And I just couldn't do it with Sam here. If he got in here and saw me dead, I just couldn't do that to him.

So I was going to leave, again. I packed my stuff and got out of the motel room. I went to the reception desk and checked out, after which I exited the motel and went to my Harley. It was three in the afternoon. The sun shone brightly and it was hot outside, but with a nice breeze in the air. I got on my Harley and drove off, while a tear fell down my cheek. It was nice, seeing Sam again before I died, but man, it was going to hurt him much more than it would have done when he hadn't shown up here. I looked behind me once more, and I felt a stab of pain when I saw the Impala. That car will always remind me of Dean, his Baby. I looked ahead of me again and left the motel behind.

I didn't drive far, just to the next motel. I hid my Harley behind some bushes, just in case Sam would drive by here. I checked in, this time under a fake name, and went to my room. While driving, I had decided I was going to do it today. So no-one or nothing could stop me.

I sat down on the edge of the bed and took out my gun. I made sure there were bullets in it. I sighed and let the tears run down my face freely. I wished I could say, I'm going to be with Dean, but I couldn't. He was in hell, and I didn't think I was going to go there as well.

I brought the gun up to my temple, letting it touch with the skin of my forehead. Goodbye everyone.

Just as I was about to pull the trigger, a bright light filled my room. I lowered the gun, stunned. It was a beautiful light. It felt warm, and peaceful. It felt like it was somehow… alive. Like it was a living being. My suspicions were confirmed when it started to speak to me.

"Please, don't do this. You are needed. He will need you when he comes back," the voice said, sounding warm, but also desperate.

"I-I don't understand, who will need me?" I asked, confused.

"Dean, he's coming back from hell, I'm going to be the one to raise him from perdition," he said, and even though he's just some random light in my room, I felt like he was telling the truth and believed him.

"How?" I asked. I had searched for a way to bring him back for months, and now he says he can do it? I wanted to know how.

"I'm the only being that can pull him out, I have certain abilities that makes it possible."

"Then what are you?" I asked him.

"That will all be revealed later, Jayden. I don't have much time left. Don't take your life, please don't, you have a part to play in the future that Dean and Sam awaits. And I promise, things will get better, don't lose hope. I will help you feel better for now, and then I want you to go back to Sam," the voice said, and the light came closer to me.

"Wait, what's your name?"

He seemed to hesitate a bit, before answering, "Castiel."

And after that, the light surrounded me, engulfed me, and I felt better, peaceful and not so sad anymore.

"Thank you, Castiel," I said, after which the light vanished.