Author's note: This is a Supernatural UA fic. The same universe, but with slight alterations. I have no update schedule that I follow. That would cause for bad writing.

Ashlynn had never known her father all too well. He had been in town on a business trip when he and Ashlynn's mother met. Her mother always told her the most wonderful stories about her dad. She said that he was a strong, caring man, albeit a bit strange. Ashlynn had inherited his thick, jet black hair but her mother's shapely nose and piercing green eyes. Ashlynn seemed to have also inherited her father's strangeness; while growing up, she would often have dreams about people with purely black eyes, no pupils at all. When she told her mother about the dreams, she laughed and told Ashlynn not to worry and that they were just dreams. But on Ashlynn's sixth birthday, life started to become more and more out of the ordinary.

Often, Ashlynn's mother would gaze into the distance, completely ignoring whatever task was at hand. Ashlynn had nearly been fatally injured on multiple occasions when her mother started to zone out behind the wheel of their mini-van. There was never too much danger involved; Ashlynn had lived her whole life in a small community in Washington, and there were never that many people on the roads. Sometimes Ashlynn's mother would come into her room at night and just watch her sleep. When Ashlynn was younger, this was a precaution taken to chase away the nightmares that riddled her mind night during the night. But something seemed different now. When her mother sat in the rocking chair opposite the bed, she didn't bring with her a sense of peace, but rather one of menace.

She was also suddenly far less religious than usual. Ashlynn had learned how to say her prayers every night as soon as she had learned how to talk. But now, her mother had taken down all the crucifixes in the house and forbidden her from even saying the Lord's name. Despite this fact, Ashlynn resisted by saying prayers in her head instead of out loud. Her mother was talking to herself often, having private discussions with important people, she claimed. Ashlynn felt like something wasn't quite right. Her mom had always told her that it was okay to have imaginary friends, so Ashlynn figured that her mom had some friends of her own.

Soon, though, things began to be even stranger. Her mother started calling her out of school, keeping Ashlynn in her room with the door closed for hours on end; only cracking it open to give her meals. Ashlynn sat and quietly played with her toys, but grew increasingly worried with each passing day. She heard her mother talking to herself more and more, an unusual amount for an imaginary friend. Didn't she know that you could talk to an imaginary friend inside your head, not always out loud? As all children know, it's much easier to converse with an imaginary friend inside one's head. It's irritating for other people in the room to only hear one end of the conversation, like being in the same room as someone making an angry phone call.

Two weeks after she had first called Ashlynn off from school, she heard her mother in the living room, laughing. It was erratic laughter; she was in hysterics. She opened Ashlynn's bedroom door and suddenly spoke in a serious tone.

"Come here, Ashlynn." Ashlynn froze for a moment, but then obeyed. This was the first time her mother had let her leave her room in weeks, aside from bathroom breaks. "We're going to play a game now." She said, grabbing Ashlynn's hand and leading her into the living room. There was a strange looking brass bowl and a jeweled knife with a sharp blade on the coffee table. There was a kitchen chair in the far corner of the room. "Go sit over there, sweetheart." Ashlynn's mother said, pointing to the kitchen chair. Ashlynn wondered if she was in a time-out.

"Am I in trouble?" She asked innocently. Her mother scowled and grabbed her by the wrist.

"I told you to sit in that chair, now do it!" She yelled. She dragged Ashlynn to the other side of the room. Ashlynn began to cry, but there was nothing she could do. Her mother was too strong. She forced Ashlynn into the chair and then tied her to it with a length of rope. Ashlynn squeaked in fear, but remained silent. Her mother crossed the room and inspected the bowls and jeweled blade on the coffee table, smiling to herself and humming."They told me it was a sickness, you know. They said that they're making me sick and inhumane… but I've never felt so alive before. Oh, I do look forward to this." She said soberly, running her index finger across the side of the blade.

"Mommy… are you okay? You said something about being sick." Ashlynn piped up, still hoping her mother would suddenly laugh and untie her, telling her it was all a joke. A very sick joke, she thought, but there was always that glimmer of hope inside of her that they could move on and things would be normal again. "If you're sick… you should go to the doctor, or let me take care of you. Like you always do for me, Mommy." Ashlynn bargained. This only broke her mother's face into a scowl and a glare.

"Quiet, Ashlynn! What do we say about good little girls?" Ashlynn quaked with fear as her mother approached her. "Well? What do we say about good little girls?" She asked with increasing malice.

"G-good little girls are to be s-seen and n-not heard." Ashlynn whimpered.

"What ELSE do we say?" Her mother asked threateningly.

"Good little girls d-don't… don't sp-speak unless spoken to." She squeaked. Suddenly, her mother relaxed.

"Yes, that's right. Now, sit and be a good little girl while I set up for the game." She stood up and then sat on the floor in front of the coffee table. Ashlynn wept in silence as her mother measured out different scented liquids from crude plastic bottles and poured them into the funny brass bowl. When she was finished preparing the bowl, she bathed the blade of the jeweled knife in the perfume lovingly. She removed the knife from its bath and approached her daughter once again. Ashlynn's lower lip quivered out of fear. "Now, I'd like to say that this isn't going to hurt a bit, but you should know already from getting shots at the doctor's office that that's a complete lie." Ashlynn began to scream as her mother lashed at her with the knife, but her scream was quickly cut off; quite literally.

"Shit, I think we're too late! Sam, grab her legs! I'll get her torso!"

Ashlynn felt herself being lifted by two pairs of strong hands. She gasped and used what little energy she had to plea for help.

"H-h-help... m-me..." She croaked, and promptly passed out from the exertion of energy. When she woke once again, she realized two things. First, she was alive. Second, she had no idea where she was. She was lying in a bed; that was obvious. Hadn't she just been at home? She reached a hand up to her neck. It felt... normal. She sat up, and then two men in their mid-twenties entered the room. She was so shocked that she began to scream.

"It's okay! We're here to help!" The taller, blond one said.

"What can we do for you? Are you hungry?" The shorter, dark haired one asked.

"If you kidnapped me… I'm warning you right now… I know martial arts! Jiu Jitsu and… Tae Kwan Do!" The tall one rolled his eyes.

"We didn't kidnap you. I know it kind of seems like that, but honestly, we didn't. I will answer any questions that you have, and so will my brother." He said, gesturing towards the shorter man. Ashlynn hadn't expected her kidnappers to be so… polite.

"So… do you have any questions?" The dark haired one asked. Ashlynn knew it was odd that she was handling this so calmly, considering she didn't know who these two men were. What did they want with her? She had already nearly been killed today, and she thought she recognized the two men from her brief moments of consciousness when she was rescued. She thought slowly at first about what she wanted to know, but then it all came rushing out of her.

"Who are you? Where am I? What happened today? What happened to my mom? Why am I alive? Why don't I have a scar on my neck? Why-"

"Whoa, slow down! Let's take it slowly. You've had a tough day. I'll answer everything you've asked so far. My name is Sam Winchester and this is my brother Dean. We did some digging and it turns out that you're our half-sister. About six years ago our dad was on a hunting trip when he met your mom. Right now, you're in the Blue Star Motel in Oregon. Your mom was infected with something called Croatoan virus, and it made her extremely violent. She tried to… to sacrifice you to Satan." Sam cleared his throat awkwardly before continuing. "You're alive because we stopped the ritual before she could finish it. Your soul was halfway between your body and Hell when we found you, and we had to pull all the pieces back together."

"What is Croatoan Virus?" Ashlynn asked.

"It's a disease that makes whoever it infects a rampaging murderer. People with Croatoan have nothing on their minds except killing as many people as they can, even other people who are infected."

"How did my mom get it?"

"We're not sure. It looks like she was given small doses over time, considering how long it took her to plan out your murder before acting on it. Based on how people from town said she was acting, it seems like she started showing signs about a month ago." Ashlynn was silent for a moment as she pondered this new information. She didn't want to believe it, but the timeline fit and it explained a lot. But where was her mother? She couldn't believe that that hadn't been the first thing she asked Sam.

"Sam… where is my mom?" She asked meekly. Sam sighed long and heavily.

"The only way to cure a person of Croatoan is… is to kill them." He finally admitted. Ashlynn's eyes widened in shock and her eyes stung with salty tears. She blinked and let them forge wet tracks down her cheeks, falling from her jawline and pock-marking the motel quilt. Dean, who had been quietly standing in the corner until now, sat next to Ashlynn and pushed the teardrops off her cheeks with his rough textured thumb.

"Do you need some time or…" He trailed off and just looked at his newly discovered sister. He sighed and laid one arm around her shoulders. "I've never been good at this," He said. "I suck at the whole family thing." Ashlynn jumped slightly and groaned.

"What's wrong? Do you feel sick?" Sam asked.

"I've got hiccups," she moaned. "I alwa-hic-always get them whe-hic-when I cry." Sam and Dean shared a glance of confusion. "That's not even the worst part," Ashlynn continued. "I'm a horrible person." She began to cry a little bit harder.

"Why is that?" Sam asked.

"I'm sort of-hic-glad that my-hic-mom is dead."

"I'd think that's kind of normal, with your situation being how it is." Dean assured her.

"It doesn't matter. Haven't you ever heard of unconditional love? She's my mother and I'm supposed to love her no matter what!" Ashlynn pushed Dean's arm off of her shoulders, stood up, and began to pace around the room.

"Well… she did try to kill you." Dean contributed, trying – and failing – to calm Ashlynn down.

"You said she was sick," Ashlynn accused. "If she was sick that means she wasn't really her. My mother loved me and nothing you say will convince me otherwise!" She proclaimed, pointing an accusing index finger at Dean, who was still sitting on the side of the bed.

Sam cleared his throat, and then crossed the room to talk to Dean in a low voice. Dean tried to argue, but Sam urged him on. Dean stood up and left the room.

"I'm going to get dinner," He called over his shoulder. "And Ash… I'm sorry about what I said." The last part came out almost regrettably, and it was clear that apologies were neither a common occurrence for Dean nor his strong point. When they heard the engine of the Impala roar to life outside, Sam sat in a withering arm chair in the corner of the room.

"I'm sorry about him, Ashlynn. He's not very sensitive."

"I don't care about his lack of communication skills right now," Ashlynn aggressed. "I'm more concerned with the fact that you two are insane!"

"I know it seems that way, but-"

"No, don't even finish that sentence!" Ashlynn cut him off. "If your brother, or partner in crime, or whoever he is hadn't already taken the car I would be out of here by now and getting to the nearest police station to report you two whackos!"

"Ashlynn, please listen to me. I know what you're feeling."

"How can you know what I'm feeling?!" She shouted. "Have you ever been kidnapped by two strangers who claim to be related to you?"

"No, but I lost my mother too." Ashlynn turned to face him, her expression no longer painted with rage.

"When?" She asked softly.

"I was only about six months old, but the scars are still there. If you want to know more, you'll have to ask Dean."

"You lost her to the same disease that took my mom?"

"No, but the same people who infected your mom are the ones who stole my life from me before I had a chance to start it." Ashlynn gave up her tirade and belly-flopped onto the same bed she had woken up in. She rested her chin on the back of her hands, fingers interlaced and lying flat on the bed. She tilted her head and rested her right cheek on her knuckles. Her eyes traveled the beige walls of the motel room until she caught her own gaze in a mirror. With widened eyes, she sprang from the bed to confront her reflection. She looked herself up and down in the full length mirror and began to scream.

"Please stop screaming. Someone's going to complain to the management." Sam said, rising from the chair and standing behind her. "You got older. We don't know why, but you're sixteen now. Somewhere in the process, you gained ten years." Ashlynn turned and met his eyes with a searching gaze, but promptly fainted. Sam sighed and picked up Ashlynn's unconscious body. He gently returned her to the bed, but didn't bother to pull the covers over her. He crossed the threshold into the other room. Upon the Winchesters arrival, the clerk's heart had melted when he saw Ashlynn looking so peaceful in her brother's arms, Dean claiming she had fallen asleep in the car. He gave them an upgrade on their room free of charge. Sitting in the small kitchenette, Sam pulled out his cell phone and began to make calls. First on his list was Dean.

"What's up, Sammy?"

"Where are you?"

"I'm on my way back with dinner. How's it going with Ash?"

"She saw herself in the mirror and fainted. Honestly, I'm surprised she didn't notice sooner. I mean, she shot up about two or three feet."

"Whatever. As long as we get her fed and figure out what our next move is. I just hope she doesn't have a concussion."

"All the crap that's going on and you're worried she has a concussion?"

"Her mom isn't a threat to her anymore."

"But the demons are."

"Good point. Anyways, let's talk about this later. I'll be there in a few minutes." Sam ended the call and held down the number '2' button for his speed dial.

"You taking care of the girl?" Bobby asked without a greeting.

"She's fainted about two or three times but I think she's okay. Dean's coming back with some food."

"Good. The girl is probably starving, considering that she technically hasn't eaten in ten years."

"Yeah. We'll make sure she gets enough to eat. Do you have any news?"

"I haven't even heard of this type of sacrifice before. You might need to ask the angel about this one."

"Okay Bobby. Thanks anyways. We'll let you know if we find anything."

Bobby grunted and ended the call. Sam flipped his phone shut and leaned against the wall. He closed his eyes and sighed yet again. He seemed to be sighing a lot that night, but he had no other way to express what heavy stress this put on the Winchester brothers. Welcoming a new member to this lifestyle wasn't going to be easy, and Sam was thinking that she was more trouble than she was worth. But, seeing as Ashlynn's grandparents were both dead and her mother had been an only child, Ashlynn was their responsibility now. Sam was still brooding when he heard Dean's key click in the lock and the door opening. Sam crossed back from the kitchenette to the main area of the motel room. Dean dropped the greasy bag of diner food onto the table between the beds and sat in the arm chair.

"I take it she's still out cold." Dean said.

"Yeah, she's been that way since right before I called you."

"What's Bobby got to say?"

"He says that he's never heard of the type of sacrifice her mother performed on her. He thinks we should ask Cas about it."

"Who's Cas?" Ashlynn asked, groaning with sleepiness.

"He's a friend of ours who might be able to help us." Dean said.

"Why do we need help?"

"Whoever convinced your mom to sacrifice you to Satan might still be after you." Sam cleared his throat, warning Dean not to overload the poor girl with this kind of information. "Sorry. You probably don't want to talk about it." Dean apologized.

"Oh, I'm totally over that now." Ashlynn said. Sam and Dean shared a confused expression.

"You're… over it?"

"Yeah, my mom tried to kill me. So what? She's gone now."

"What the hell are we going to do with you?" Dean asked, slightly awed at how quickly she could change emotions.

"Find your friend Cas and ask him." Ashlynn replied.