Pilot Part 1

I bolted upright, panting and sweating. I scrambled to take in my surroundings.

Lavender sheets tangled around my limbs. Bedside lamp with floral designs. Walls decorated with hand painted vines. I sighed and flopped back into my pillows.

Just another nightmare. A nightmare is just a dream. A dream is just a figure of the imagination.

I rubbed the lingering sweat off of my face, then ran a hand through my hair.

I should be used to nightmares. I get them at least once a week. Hell, my job is to fight them. And yet I still wake up in a cold sweat and fear embedded in my eyes.

I shook off my thoughts and sent a cautious glance over to the clock hanging on the wall. I groaned. 1:53. I get up earlier and earlier every day, and can never get myself to fall back asleep.

Using every word I knew to quietly curse the clock, I shuffled out of bed. My feet relaxed when they hit the soft carpet.

As I was walking to the bathroom, a noise sounded from downstairs. I stiffened. I live alone, and am the only one with a key. I crept back into my bedroom, careful to not let the door creak as I closed it as gently as I possibly could. My feet barely skimmed the carpet as I made my way to my bed. This time, though, I knew that I wasn't going to go to sleep. My hand clamped around the handle of the knife underneath my pillow. I silently prayed that I wouldn't have to use it.

After a few tense minutes of no sound, footsteps started to gently make their way up the stairs. I tightened my grip on the handle as whatever it was travelled down the hallway, closer to my bedroom. Whatever this thing is, it knows where I am.

My breath hitched in my throat as the door creaked open slowly. I forced myself to breath steadily, shutting my eyes and lying still.
Whatever had just entered my room was breathing heavily and wasted no time in creeping towards my bed. I concentrated on making myself look asleep.

The bed dipped beside me, and I made a split second decision. I leapt onto the intruder, brandishing the engraved knife.

We tumbled onto the floor, both of us trying to aim a somewhat good punch. The knife was knocked out of my hand sometime in the struggle.

My hand pulled forward, hitting the... Thing... Square in the face. Apparently he didn't like that very much. He quickly pinned me. Both of us were still tangled in that damn blanket. I held my breath, praying that I would at least go to heaven.

A deep chuckle sounded from whatever had pinned me. I tensed. I would know that laugh anywhere. "Jesus, Sweetheart, I'm only here for some help."

I shoved his chest. "How about some help finding the front door?" I snapped.

"Ouch, Princess. What climbed up your ass?"

I was quick to flip us over, putting me on top. I lowered my lips to just below his ear, whispering in a lethal way. "If you don't get the hell outta my house, Dean Winchester, I swear I will not hesitate to… to... drown you in the bathtub!"

Dean blinked at me. "That was strangely specific. Been thinking about us in the bathtub a lot recently?" He winked. I ignored him. Seeing that the approach wasn't working, any normal person would've given up and left. Dean, however, was far from a normal person.

Dean swiftly changed the subject. He eyed my bare legs. "You always wear so little to bed?" I grew embarrassed about my choice in pajamas. I lived alone, but going to bed in my underwear and a baggy overshirt was still bold for me.

Dean took a firm hold on my humiliation, flipping us over again. I groaned in frustration. Should've seen that coming. "I saw a whole lot more of you the last time we saw each other, Dollface," he quipped cheekily down at me.
I struggled, but found myself not only fighting Dean, but also the sheets and comforter from my bed. I swore as Dean laughed at me. "Good job, Angel, now I can't move. Didn't know that you liked being dominant."

I finally glared Dean in the eyes. "You're really laying it on thick, Winchester. What the hell do you want from me this time?" He smirked and opened his mouth, but I was quick to reword the question. "No, wait. What do you want from me that doesn't involve sex?"

Dean sighed, getting on his 'business' face. He sat back on his heels, letting me sit up. He looked me in the eye, and I automatically knew something was wrong. Vulnerability shone in his eyes.

"Dad is missing. I need help finding him, and Sam and I won't be enough."

I rolled my eyes. Dean snorted and grabbed my arms, standing with me in tow. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

Dean smirked at me before slinging me over his shoulder as if I weighed practically nothing. I gasped, winded, before hitting his back. "Let me down, you bastard!"

Dean chuckled, and the vibration echoed through my body. "Nah, I'm kinda enjoying the view." It took me a bit to recognize what he was referring to.

"Quit looking at my ass, or I'll gladly whip yours!"

"Into that kinda stuff? Hmm, why didn't you mention that last time, Darling?" I made a sound of frustration as he carried me effortlessly out into the hallway.

Dean Winchester shows up in my house, attacks me, asks for help, and then holds me against my will to check me out. Real classy, Dean.

I decided to take another approach to the situation, just as Dean had.

"You don't need me. Hell, you could do this without Sam. Why do you want me along?"
I could hear the smirk in his voice. "Sammy's not the best sex partner, Sweetheart." I scoffed.

"If you really think that I'm gonna have sex with you, Winchester, you got a whole 'nother thing coming," I spat, hitting his back again. He laughed.

"So, this doesn't turn you on whatsoever?" I stifled a yelp as he slid a hand over my butt. I thrashed my legs, barely hitting his chest.
God, why is he such an asshole sometimes?

I groaned in frustration. This man never gives up. "Alright, I'll help you, you bastard. Now let me down."

Dean sent a hurt look over his shoulder. "That wasn't very nice, Angel. You kiss your grandmother with that mouth?"

I opened my mouth to argue back, but was cut short when he cheekily tapped my butt.
"Quit it, you asshole! I'm not gonna help you if you're gonna treat me like a slut!" I snapped, squirming against his hands.

I could hear the grin in Dean's voice as he responded with," You know, squirming is only making your night shirt ride up your legs. It's kind of a turn on, ain't gonna lie." But he set me back down, closely examining my face. He smirked as I glared at him, fuming.

I sighed. I'd forgotten how infuriating Dean could be. I glanced at him, and he knew what I was going to say before I opened my mouth to say it.

"Why do I feel as if there's an 'on one condition' coming up?"

I was taken aback. Dean knew me better than he had let on. I ignored his comment and instead made my request. "Only if my best friend can come with."

Dean looked over at me from where he was paging through a book that he had leisurely plucked from my bookshelf. "Does she know about... Everything?" The serious tone in his voice made the earlier version of him look like an angel.

I cleared my throat, taking sudden interest in my toes (they were painted a nice shade of red). "Not exactly..."

"Then no."

Rage built up inside of me. "Then the deal's off.

Go find your dad with Sam. I think you've underestimated his sexual abilities." I turned on my heel and walked right back into my bedroom, slamming the door closed behind me. I flipped the lock. There's no way I'm letting Dean get in here.

Banging sounded on the door before I even made it to the bed. "I'm not gonna have sex with Sam! We're brothers! Wait, how do you even know about his sex life?"

I laughed. I didn't, of course, but it was time to get Dean back for smacking my butt like the asshat he is.

"Wouldn't you like to know," I whispered. It was Dean's turn to be frustrated.

He swore and the door almost buckled under the impact of his next hit. "Dean!" I relaxed at Sam's voice. He always got me out of sticky situations. The banging on the door ceased. "I told you to convince Hana to come with us, not fight her until she becomes desperate enough to lock herself in her room!"

Dean sounded irrate when he retaliated. "I

didn't expect her to want to bring along her friend that doesn't know anything about what we do! Forget it!"

The sound of Dean angrily stomping away resounded through the hall.

I waited a bit before unlocking and opening the door. Sam stood there, looking apologetically into my eyes. I smirked, then pulled him into a hug. He smiled and gave in to the embrace. "It's been a while, Sammy."

He pulled back and pouted at me. "C'mon, Hana, you know it's Sam. Sammy was-"

"I know, I know. A chubby 12-year-old." But I was smirking. I would never stop calling him that and he knew it.

He sighed. I could almost hear his thoughts. Time to get to business. "Dad is missing. We want you along because we know how much you mean to him. Now, what is this bargain I'm hearing of? Bringing a friend along?"

I bit my lip. Dragging Rae into this mess might not be the best option. She didn't have much of a life here, but she also might not want to leave. I bit down harder. Well...

"Yeah. Her name is Raelynn Kraus. She doesn't know anything about the supernatural, but she has a lot of basic skills that could help. Besides, I'm not about to talk to you two about my feelings."

Sam considered for a while. Then he looked up at me, coming to a decision.

"Alright. But do not make me regret this."