Author's Note: Hiya, fellas! Vivi here. I just wanted to introduce this, my very first attempt at writing SPN AU fan fiction. I'm still getting used to this site, so please excuse any formatting errors. I need to address a few things before we begin. This story needs a few TRIGGER warnings: themes of self hate, brief memories of self harm, and a few mildly violent fight scenes are included in this and/or following chapters that result in hurt characters. Please avoid reading this if you struggle with any of these. It's totally not worth reading if it hurts you. Let me know what you think!

The floor was cold. The air was cold. The lamp was cold. My bed was warm. But then again, so was my heart. I just kept right on beating, no matter what.

I stretched as I grabbed my pink polka-dot robe from where it hung off of my top dresser drawer. It was one of my favorite thrift store finds. The guys never would have gotten it for me had I not smiled for the first time in weeks at the sight of it.

Outside my door, it was cold and dark. The tile did nothing to hold in the heat from the old boiler system, which was turned off every night and on every morning by some yet still hidden machine somewhere in the depths of the bunker.

I could deal with the cold. I'd lived in it for so long, it seemed like an old friend. But the dark was something that still wrung my soul and made my breath catch in my chest. I'd lived in the dark for a long time too. It was a place I avoided at all costs and yet still fell into almost every day.

The familiar icy metal of the light switch drew the tense breath from my lips. I glanced up and down the hall. The guys weren't up yet. It must be about five in the morning. I drew in a deep breath and savored the musty, old smell. This was the closest to home I'd felt in months.

Of all the things in the kitchen that were electric, the coffee machine and the microwave were the only ones from the most recent decade. The scent of coffee grounds filled my nose and I pulled my headphones and generic MP3 player from where they lived in my robe pocket. Music calmed me like nothing else. It gave the voice in my head something besides me to focus on; it left me alone when I had music playing. The playlists were mostly instrumental music, which let me drift into a world where words were not needed and I could feel truly free within my own head. But I also had some pop songs that I loved and could sing to when the guys were away. I smiled as soft, slow piano music began pouring forth, filling my brain and masking the sound of eggs cracking to the big ceramic bowl.

Soon, breakfast was sizzling on the huge eight burner gas stove. Hash browns, bacon, eggs both scrabbled and omelet style with veggies and turkey, crepes to be filled with fruit, and a few blueberry pancakes filled my mind with good memories of my childhood and I found myself dancing my own goofy jig to a remix of some song about rainbows with a sticky spatula in hand. I closed my eyes and enjoyed this easy feeling, the warmth from the stove, the cool tile underfoot, the knowledge that I was safe and someone cared about me.

It seemed like the blink of an eye and the meal was complete. I turned the burners down to just keep the food warm until the boys woke up. I glanced around the kitchen. They weren't silently watching me from the doorjamb, as they sometimes did when I would get really into a song. However, the coffee pot was about half empty; someone was awake. I took my headphones out and turned the music off, carefully tucking it all back into my pocket. I went to the coffee machine and poured a cup. The hallway light was still on as I made my way down, past my room, to see if their doors were open yet.

I smelled the coffee before I even got to Dean's room. He was back in bed, laptop up, headphones on, a weary look on his face. He glanced up as I hesitated in his doorway. I mouthed "food's ready" and he donned a sleepy smile. I kept on down the hall until I got to Sam's room. His door opened just as I arrived.

"Morning." He said quickly, rubbing his eyes and yawning. His hair was hilarious mess. I smiled and handed him the cup of hot coffee. He smiled and thanked me for it.

"Breakfast is ready." I said.

He chuckled. "You know, you don't have to make us breakfast every morning. We survived years without that kind of treatment."

I smiled somewhat more morosely than planned and said, "It helps me relax and stop thinking for a while. Sometimes it's the only thing I have to look forward to in the morning, and that's enough."

Sam frowned. "Ali, if you ever need to talk, we're here for you. You know that right?"

I looked away and faked my best smile. "Of course." There was no way my inner voice would let me pour my heart out to either Winchester. She was ruthless and wanted nothing more than to see me go down in flames. I looked back to Sam, the smile still on my face. He did not seem convinced.

Just then, Dean made his way out of his room and towards the kitchen, coffee in hand, scratchy gray robe warding off the cold. The boilers wouldn't be on for another half hour.

"Breakfast." I said cheerfully, turning to follow him. My silent hopes were recognized as Sam didn't press the issue but resigned to join the breakfast brigade.

Dean was always kind enough to leave some for the rest of us if he got to the food first. After a few weeks, I noticed he left more of the veggie filled things, of which Sam generally took more, so I started making more of that and less of the artery clogging goodness that Dean and I loved.

"Are those chocolate chip pancakes?" Dean asked from across the room through a mouthful of egg.

"Blueberry." I answered. "Fresh, actually. From the farmer's market in town. Sam picked them up for me."

"Go team." Dean said, pouring a small pond of syrup over the stack.

The amount those two could eat never ceased to amaze me. I felt like every week I'd add an extra couple of servings to the prep of each meal in the hopes of having leftovers, but every week, there was a pile of empty pans in the sink. Thankfully, Sam usually washed the bigger pans and pots for me. I had trouble holding them with soapy wet hands. I think he got tired of hearing them crash down into the sink, making them come in to see what had happened.

Towards the end of our normally silent meals, Dean spoke up. "Heard anything from Cas recently?"

"Nothing." Sam didn't look up from his omelet.

"Ali? Anything?"

I avoided eye contact. Cas and I weren't exactly on the best of terms. I was actually surprised that Dean had even mentioned him around me. I shook my head and pushed a hash brown around and around on my plate.

"Ali, you know he didn't mean to-" Sam spoke up.

"I know." I cut him short, not wanting to relive the memory.

"Don't push it." Dean said, looking up. I knew he would shoot Sam a warning glance. Sam usually knew when I was having those rare bad days. He knew to give me space, but to not leave the bunker unless he absolutely had to. Last time, they left to go out to a bar during a bad day. That was the day they came home at three in the morning to me bleaching the kitchen with no gloves. My hands were red and raw for almost two weeks. At the time, I hadn't cared. The voice told me it didn't matter.

After that, when they went to do a job they left me with Cas. My bad days had been further apart since settling into the bunker, but the bleach episode had left them weary. Long story short, Cas and I had run into a pack of demons while grocery shopping and somehow the angel launched me through the cereal shelves in the breakfast aisle. He killed the demons, sure, but he also knocked me out and broke three ribs. I woke up in the bunker, in my bed. Cas had called Dean and Sam back; they'd only left that morning. They'd pulled chairs into my room and were, of course, doing research while waiting for me to wake up. Cas had healed the ribs before he even left he market, but when I woke up and saw him, I screamed. I was out the door before they even knew what was happening. I almost made it out the front door of the bunker before Dean caught up to me and pulled me close. He managed to calm me down, but I couldn't even look at Cas without shaking. Needless to say, they still left me with Cas, but he stayed invisible the whole time. They told me he wasn't there, but I knew he was. Occasionally, I'd catch a glimpse of him as I rounded a corner quickly or when I turned the lights on in the morning. Those sightings always made my heart pound and my hands shake like leaves on a windy day.

"Sorry." Sam said. Dean took his dish to the sink and washed it before refilling his cup and heading for the library. Sam washed the dishes and left me alone at the table, trying desperately to not think.

When the water turned off, I was surprised to see him sit down opposite me. I looked up and met his gaze. "Do you need anything?" He asked.

I thought through my mental to do list. I was going to mop the floors today. Groceries? "Cranberry juice. And butter. We're running low." I said.

Sam smirked. "Not groceries. I can see the list you've got on the fridge. Do you need anything?"

I frowned. What did it matter if I needed anything? The thought made no sense to me. "No."

"Nothing?" He pressed.

"No."

Sam hesitated before continuing. "This is one of those days for you, I think, and Dean and I are probably gonna chase down a vampire lead in Oklahoma. Another hunter called yesterday about it. Said he could use a few more hands. Are you going to be okay by yourself for a few days?"

"I always am." I said, trying to seem as cheerful as possible.

Sam's mouth pulled down at the side. "Call us if anything happens. Call us before anything happens."

"Okay. You do the same." I said. Sam's smile was sad as he stood up and walked out to the library, leaving me alone in the cold kitchen. "I'll have Cas with me anyway." I whispered bitterly to the cold hash brown as it continued making laps around my plate.

They packed up and left before seven. I went back to bed for a while. I usually did that when they left. It was a way to fill the hours. Before the incident with Cas, he and I would go grocery shopping, or to the thrift store to get clothes and bedding, or just to the park so I could breathe fresh air and stretch my legs. Since I could no longer look at Cas without shaking, I mostly just stayed in the bunker. Scratch that, I only stayed in the bunker. They didn't like me going out without someone. The demons had my scent and they knew that I meant something to the Winchesters. I didn't want to become a playing piece in that game, so I resigned myself to the damp, dark corridors and stale air of the subterranean stronghold.

Author's Note: Don't forget to let me know what you think! I appreciate the feedback.