I do not own Supernatural, or any words written by Shane Koyczan.

Silence

Chapter One

I was awake before the sun was. I laid in the darkness and stared into the blackness as I tried to gather my mind from the heavy sleep that I had woken up from. My clock on my night stand read 5:42 AM in bright green numbers. As I stared at the clock, sleep seemed to fall further and further away from me. I sat up after a few moments and crossed my legs. I sighed and ran my fingers through my hair that had come loose from my braid.

Some time in the hour I had slept I had kicked off the blankets and pillows onto the floor. I reached down and grabbed the pile of linen and yanked it back up on the bed. I wrapped myself into the blankets and closed my eyes. But sleep evaded me. It was like no matter how tight I wrapped the blankets around myself, the cold from the late fall air that was knocking at my window, froze me to the core. It wasn't a normal cold. My body didn't have a single shiver. It almost felt like my soul was freezing. And restless.

"Don't be stupid," I muttered into the blankets. "Some noise outside just woke you up."

I sat up again with a huff. I pushed the blankets away from me and slid my legs off the bed. The hardwood floors chilled my skin as I stood. I let out a shiver as I moved to head to the hallway.

The house was quiet. It was always quiet. The cold sent my bare arms into goose bumps as I headed for the bathroom. I turned to the shower and turned the tap to hot. I stood in front of the mirror and watched as my hands pulled the hair tie off of the end of my hair that held my braid in place. I ran my fingers through it quickly, pulling the braid apart and letting it rest at its full length to my mid back. The steam from the shower quickly fogged over the mirror, blocking my reflection and turning it into a blur.

I stripped out of my clothes and stepped into the shower, wincing slightly at first from the scalding water. But soon my muscles relaxed into the spray and the coldness in my bones disappeared. I tipped my head under the water, and let it pull my hair forward. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in of the steam. The cold started to dissipate from my bones as I stood there, my arms crossed at my waist. The sound of the shower was a welcome noise to the usual silence that was in the house and around me. It was suffocating sometimes. But the silence was the only way to ensure safety. It meant no one was close. That I was alone.

The quiet was what I yearned for, though sometimes it made me restless. I would push those feelings aside, and assure myself that the quiet is what I needed. Years after years of screams, crying, fighting, gun shots.. Silence is what my head needed. But the silence was cold. And all those years of pain, my heart could remember the warmth that was there. The love, smiles, laughter, and on a few special occasions, joy. My heart clenched and I ducked my head out from under the water, rubbing at my eyes. I took a deep breath and pushed the feelings away as I washed the smell of liquor and smoke away from my skin. I had been too worn out after work to shower. I had just come home, and laid down in my clothes, barely sleeping an hour.

I finished showering, suddenly wanting to be away from the thoughts that kept trying to resurface in my mind. I dressed quickly, and made my way to the kitchen, desperately needed something to warm me even more from the cold that crept through the house like a sickness. The coffee pot indicated that I had been in the shower for almost an hour. The sun was starting to rise in the kitchen window as the smell of brewing coffee filled the space. I leaned on the counter, and watched as the dark liquid filled the glass pot. Just as I was about to reach for a cup, a knock came at the door. I paused, confusion coming over me.

Who in the world.. I thought to myself as I headed to the door. I glanced outside through the peep hole, as another frantic knock came. I felt my heart drop. Oh no. Please, no. I swallowed a lump in my throat as I sat back from my tiptoes to see out of the peep hole. I rested my hands against the door as I debated quickly as to if I should open the door. Another frantic and determined knock came, and I sighed. I twisted the lock, but left it chained. I slowly opened the door a small crack and stared outside at the two visitors. I said nothing as I was at a loss of words as to what to say to the two hunters standing at my door.

"Emery?" the shorter one asked, shifting on his feet. "Bobby..Told us this is where you lived and uh.." he cleared his throat. "Sorry about it being so early, we just uh.."

"We need help," the taller one spoke up. He stared at me with a pathetic look, his brown eyes reminding me of a kicked puppy. "Please."

"I'm not involved in that life anymore," I said after a moment. "I'm sorry." I finished, and I started to close the door. I jumped as a hand came and hit against the door preventing me from closing it.

"Bobby told us," he said, eyeing his brother with a glare. His brother dropped his hand sheepishly. "We just..Could you hear us out? Please? If you can't help we'll move on, and leave you alone," he said, his eyes moving back to me, reminding me again of a kicked puppy. "We just..we really need some help."

I stood there for a few moments, looking back and forth between the two. I really wanted nothing to do with them, just by association with the life. But they had always helped when asked when I was involved, whether wanting to or not. And Bobby did send them. I knew Bobby wouldn't send any hunters my way unless it was a dire situation. It also being the two standing in front of me.. I sighed and closed the door long enough to unchain the door.

"Coffee?" I asked, opening it again for them, and stepping back to let them in. Relief crossed across their faces. The Winchester brothers entered inside, and I closed the door behind them. I walked passed them towards the kitchen, intent on the coffee that I had made. "Though it looks like you two need a good night's sleep more than anything else," I noted, reaching for a cup again. As I started to pour into the cup I heard them sit at the table awkwardly. I reached for the sugar and neither of them said anything. "What is it that you need help with?" I asked, turning to them. "Better yet, what is so desperate that you convinced Bobby to tell you where I was at?" I brought the cup up to my lips, waiting on an answer.

The both shifted awkwardly, glancing at eachother.

"Well," Sam began.

"Let me get this straight," I said, leaning back in my chair. I had to sit when they started talking, either from shock or their sheer stupidity at the situation. I squeezed the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes tightly. "Dean made a deal with a crossroads demon because Sam died. So instead of leaving dead alone, you made a stupid, rash, unthought out, did I mention stupid, decision and only have a little less than a year to live before hellhounds come and find you, and drag you to hell," I dropped my hand to my lap. "Did I sum that up well enough?" Sam nodded, while Dean looked at anywhere but me. "And then, on top of that, you opened a gate to hell, releasing who knows how many new demons to the surface? And you think I can help you?" I asked, with a breathy laugh, my eyes moving to the table, a pained smile pulling at my mouth.

"Well, we know Iben was-" Sam stopped short when my glare shot up to him. He cleared his throat. "He was the best when it came to demons. We just figured that you would be the next best person to ask," he rationalized to me.

"I can't help you," I said stiffly and standing. "You need to leave."

"But how can-" Sam started but I cut him off with raising my hand at him sharply.

"I don't even want to listen to what you have to say anymore," I said calmly. "So I would take the smart decision here and leave. I do still know how to use a gun, and trust me, I have plenty."

"How do you know you can't help if you don't look?" Dean asked standing also, defending his brother. His eyes were slanted at me.

"Because you willingly gave yourself over to a demon," I stated, my voice raising in volume. "What's dead should stay dead! You don't get to play God just because you don't like how life goes! People die. That's what happens when you live!"

"I wasn't thinking!" Dean almost yelled back. Sam's eyebrows shot up as he stared in between us shocked. "I saw a way to save him! And I took it! Don't act like you wouldn't have done the same to save Iben!"

As the words came out of his mouth, my hand shot out for the coffee mug sitting on the kitchen table in between us. I threw it at his head with as much force as I could. He barely ducked under it and it shattered loudly on the wall behind him.

"That's the point!" I almost screamed at him. "I didn't! You don't get what it's like, do you?! I watched my family torn apart by demons while I hid under the bed, praying they didn't find me! I was barely able to sneak a phone under the bed to dial Iben's number so he could hear their screams of pain so he could come save me because I was too afraid to make a noise!" my voice cracked. "Then I had to watch the same thing happen to him! And never once did it cross my mind to make a deal with the same thing that tore everyone I loved apart to bring him back! Because he would kill me before the hellhounds could!" I clenched my fists at my sides, fighting the urge to throw something else at him. "Now leave," I said, my voice struggling back to it's normal volume. "Before I shoot you in the face."

Sam stood before Dean could react. He pulled his brother towards the door. I watched, my breathing labored, as he shoved his brother towards the door. I heard the door open and the shuffle of feet and muffled words. I heard the door close, and feet headed back to the kitchen. Sam carefully came around the corner, his stature defensive. My glare softened when I saw it was him.

"I wouldn't even know where to begin," I said, quietly, before he could speak. I tucked my hair back behind my ears. "Iben knew everything there was, and more. I don't know half of what he did. Yeah, I know a lot more than most hunters, but there's a lot that is still foreign to me," I looked in between the two. "I also haven't been involved in anything like this, or anything hunter, since Iben was killed. So, everything is a little dusty as to what I remember. I mean, I still have some of Ibens' research and books, but not all of it. I don't know if I can help you."

Sam deflated. "I'm sorry about him," he said, his voice strained. "He's just..He's been off. I mean, who wouldn't be?" I nodded once. "We're going to be in town for a few days," he explained. "If you think of or find anything," he stressed. "Give us a call?" he asked, puppy eyes full of hope.

"Sure," I sighed. He started to head towards the door as I still stood next to the table. I looked to where their two large forms had sat, filling the kitchen with the first signs of life since I had moved it. Loneliness settled into the pit of my stomach.

I listened as his footsteps left the house, closing the door behind him. I heard the start of a car, and then the drone of it pulling away. And it was silent once again. I listened to the quiet as I stared towards the living room where the front door was. I left the kitchen, leaving the broken cup on the floor. My feet were on a mission for the first door on the right in the hallway.

I pushed the door open and stood in the doorway. Light shone in from the bare window that I hadn't bothered to get blinds or curtains for. The room was bare. The walls were white, and the two dozen or so boxes were the only thing in the room except for an old table with some chairs that came with the house was pushed into the corner. The air was stale, and dust had settled over everything. A lump formed in my throat. Iben's research and personal items were tucked away into these boxes. I hadn't even glanced in this room since I placed the last box amongst the others. I pretended like it didn't exist. Although it hurt to keep it around, it still hurt too much to give all of it to Bobby.

Reaching for the first box on the table, I was thankful that I had labeled what everything was. It was still too painful to look through everything. Research, the sharpie said. I began sorting the boxes, pushing the box of personal items into the corner.

I cursed under my breath. Why was I helping them? I had met the Winchester's a few times over the years. John always frightened me a little. I had heard from Bobby that he died a year or two ago, after Sam rejoined the life of hunting with his brother. I wasn't really sure why Bobby felt the need to keep me updated with other hunters. But he did when he called every now and then to check up on me. Iben, Bobby, and my parents were good friends through my parents "hunting" years that I learned about right after they were killed. I met Iben just before my parents were killed, and my brother disappeared. Iben was the one who took me in, though Bobby wanted to. Bobby argued that I should be in a stable home, not moving around, in a closer to "normal" life. Iben wouldn't have any of it. He said that Bobby had too many hunters coming in and out of his house. Too many unknown paranoid people coming around. So Iben took me in, trained me, cared for me, made sure I graduated, took me on hunts.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and dialed Bobby.

"Really, Bobby?" I asked when he answered.

"I take it the boy's showed up," he said, already knowing.

"A warning would have been nice," I chided, opening a box of research.

"Well, girl, you probably woulda boarded up your doors and windows and cut your phone of if you had known," he answered with just as much if not more sass. "The books you gave me didn't have the answers we needed. I knew you had the rest."

I let out an irritable sigh. "And you couldn't have been the one to come visit?" I asked.

"I got to much here I gotta look through. I wish I coulda, you know that. 'Sides, you need some company every now and then. It ain't healthy to keep yourself cooped up and alone all the time."

"You realize I'm grown, right?" I asked, rubbing my forehead. I didn't wait for an answer. "I also threw a cup at Deans' head," I admitted, almost sheepishly. It seemed like a good idea at the time. "I don't think I can help them Bobby. A demon deal? Seriously? I..I want to help them, find them an answer. But I just don't think there is one. That's serious, and recklessly stupid, business. Nothing good ever comes out of these deals."

"I didn't figure you could," he sighed. "But I was hopin' that Iben might of had something tucked away somewhere." He didn't sound very hopeful.

"Well, I'm going to look," I said, just as equally non-hopeful. "But it's alot."

"Yeah, and maybe if you hadn't thrown a cup at one of their heads, they'd a helped you look," he sassed.

"Shut up," I sassed back, with a smile.

I hung up after a quick goodbye. I stood on the porch, staring out into the street, watching as the neighborhood came to life. The old woman across the street that I rented the house from came outside to get the morning paper. She waved to me. I waved back, and went back inside, shutting and locking the door behind me. I ventured into the room filled with books. As I sat in one of the old chairs, the ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway was the only noise to break through the silence.

After waiting for a few heart beats, listening and trying to push away the loneliness, I opened the first book.

Ohhkay. That escalated quickly.

So I've been sitting on this for a few weeks now. I've changed it probably a million times and finally decided to publish before I changed it a million more. I hope it wasn't too jumpy. I'm a little rusty on my writing.

Leave a review and let me know what you think? :) I'm open to constructive advice. Also, the summary is from a beautiful spoken word called Instructions for a Bad Day by Shane Koyczan. You should go listen to it!