Yet another version of season two's beginning. I've been mucking around with this idea since the season finale aired back in May. Hope it's to everyones liking. Chapter two is almost done. Please feel free to Review.

CHAPTER 1: The Call

Nadia had been going 90 mph down the lonesome highway just east of Jefferson City, MO; Pantera's 'Walk' came blaring from her stereo system when the wreck came into view. Muttering one word, she slammed on the breaks of her '69 Camaro…

Shit! It really was a devastating site. A semi had t-boned an old muscle car. Upon getting out of her car, she took quick note of the damage.

There was glass everywhere. The truck driver was obviously dead; the menacing expression on his face gave her chills. But it wasn't the truck driver that made her whirl around… she heard something; a groan. Oh god, someone actually survived this!

Racing for the driver side, Nadia knew every second was going against her.

Save the survivors. Ripped through her mind, a thought that she had been drilled to act upon whenever the situation called for it; and now seemed to be one of those situations.

As she reached the driver's door, she skidded and slipped on loose gravel and glass. Oop, fuck! She thought, but aside from her less than graceful slip, no other noise came from the 26 year old. Another groan; pained and barely audible, but the noise pricked at her sensitive hearing nonetheless. Grabbing the door handle she hefted herself up off the ground, but her heart fell back to the rocks and shattered glass. Three men were trapped in the car, bruised and bloodied up. At one time, the car had been as beautiful as its owners; but now everything lay before her in one big, twisted mess.

Another groan, C'mon Nadia, quit gawking and act fast… think clearly. The driver tried turning his head towards her… tried to, anyway.

"Shh, shh, don't move. You're going to be fine," her voice broke, "I'm here to help you… what's your name, hun?" Years of training had provided her a strong, stone-like heart, but there was something about these men that broke through her defenses and broke it.

"S-Sam… where's Dean? I-is my dad okay?" he stuttered with a child-like sadness, like he knew there was no hope for them. The statement made her grimace. She felt the need to look elsewhere; the trunk.

I know that symbol! Just as the mental connection was made, a tinge of fiery pain ran up her spine, and split off into the two tattoos on her shoulder blades; which as the sleeves fell away from her shoulders, the tattoo's seemed to glow silver in the moonlight; the same symbols as the ones drawn on the car.

"Sam, they're going to be fine. Now, this is very important… Is there anything in the trunk that you need to hide from the authorities?" a sense of urgency fuelled her voice.

"Who are you?" he managed to croak.

"I'm… I'm Nadia; I'm a paranormal assassin… if that helps you to trust me."

"Assassin…?"

"Demon killer… supernatural hit woman… whatever you want to call it. But you guys need help, and I can't help you if you don't trust m—"

"Weapons… trunk…"

"Weapons? You have weapons in your trunk?" he groaned again and was finally able to roll his head in her direction. Those eyes, she thought sadly, he has abilities, too. And they're fading.

"Guns, knives, ammo, holy water… weapons; we're demon hunters, Nadia… and I trust you with our lives." It was a forced whisper, but it elicited a strong whimper from the hit woman.

"Okay, okay… think, Nadia. My little sister is an EMT in this area! I'll call her. Hold on, Sammy, hold on… you guys are going to be just fine." As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she flew to her car to retrieve her phone; all the while grabbing her spare weapon bags from her back seat. Okay, call Emily first… or clear out the trunk?

Fuck…no time…do both! Her mind screamed as she flipped open her phone with one hand and lifted the bent and open trunk with her other hand. Another chill ran up her spine at the touch.

'I'm sorry sis… can't save them all. I know you tried, but the older man was just too far gone. He bled out from the gunshot wound.' The voice was easily registered as her sister's, but the information made her lungs constrict and Nadia found herself gasping for air. But fighting her pain, like a good little killer does, she didn't stop from filling one knapsack, then the other and running back to her car while she waited for her sister to pick up.

'Hello?'

"Emily! Got a run for you… a semi hit a '67 Impala out on the highway… about ten minutes from you. Semi driver's dead. The Impala passengers and driver are alive from what I can tell."

'Can you give me a quick run down on the survivors?'

"Uh… three males, one… elderly fellow, early to mid-50's, got most of the impact, gunshot wound in right thigh. Guy in the back seat; mid to late 20's, multiple lacerations and gashes, out cold. Driver; early 20's, conscious, multiple bruising, lacerations and gashes… Em… he has abilities, too… be careful with him."

'Okay, we can be there in five… anything else?'

"Yeah, they're fellow hunters… so, hurry!" she begged as she closed her phone and went back to the twisted metal trunk. Moving these things was much easier with both hands.

"Sammy? Sammy, I want you to listen very carefully; the paramedics are on their way, you guys are going to be fine. But, I want you to put as much pressure on your father's gunshot wound as you can… okay? Can you do that, Sam?" She said as she dropped two bags with bullets and books. Sam seemed to be a little confused, "Sam… can you move any?"

"Yeah, but…"

"But what, honey?"

"How did you know about…"

"Don't think you're the only person in the world with abilities." She said sweetly, turning and motioning to the tattoo's on her bare shoulders. "How'd you think I knew about the stuff in the trunk?"

This time the injured driver smiled with her as he began to push down on a frighteningly unresponsive John Winchester.

"Sam…" she asked suddenly, the lightheartedness in her voice coming to an abrupt end, "Just how much do you trust me?"

"Why?"

"Because… Dean is about to die back here," She said as she stood next to Dean's broken window, "I can do something to help… but I need to know you trust me and won't freak out."

"Yes… what's happening to my brother?" he asked worriedly, but he received no answer. In looking into the mirror dangling helplessly from the door, his eyes widened in shock; she had placed her hand firmly over the large gash laced wickedly above his pecs, he could see by the expression on her face that she was applying a lot of energy and force unto it. Before he knew how to react to what he was seeing, the air around her hand seemed to ripple like water and his brother came alive with a weak gasp for air; his eyes fluttered open for a moment, looked around himself and at the mysterious girl, and then shut once more. As for Nadia, after the rippling effect occurred, she was thrown back a little bit, falling right on her ass. He could tell that most of her energy was drained in the simple act. "Nadia… what happened? What was that that you did?"

"Oh… that? You haven't done that yet? It's… a bit of a healing… ability." She said as she sat on the ground for a minute, she looked as if she'd just run a mile or two. "He would have bled to death before the ambulance ever got here. Your brother's got more than a fighting chance now, as do the rest of you guys, Sammy."

That's when she heard the sirens, sprinting back to the trunk she grabbed the one item she had missed; an old Colt with one bullet left. Gently she placed it in her own trunk and closed it before making one last run to the trashed car.

"Okay, Sam. Help is on the way; don't fight them. My little sister, Emily, is one of the EMT's; you can trust her as well. I'll meet you at the hospital. Alright, just apply as much pressure as you can until you hear them approaching. See you in a bit, Sammy." With one gentle tap on the hood of the once lovely Impala, she leapt into her car and sped off towards the hospital.

Emily had never been a huge fan of her sister Nadia and her loyalty to her family's profession. She had branched away years ago and had become an EMT instead of an assassin. But if it meant her sister brought in a call and actually saved a few lives…

… Well, she could deal with that.

But when the ambulance pulled up to the crash site, she suddenly had a new-found respect for how strong a stomach her older sister had. Glass and blood and twisted metal were everywhere. Just as she had said, the semi's driver was dead; and it seemed that he had been creepily comfortable with how he went. "Ugh, creepy looking, fugly dude." She grumbled, and was surprised when she heard the soft laughter that followed her comment.

"Hi there, sweetie; I'm Emily, what's your name?"

"Sam."

"Sam? Okay Sam, you can relax now, we're going to take good care of you and your family. Tell me, Sam, who's who?" He lifted a shaky finger to the man next to him.

"That's my dad… back there's my big brother, Dean." Her heart shattered when she eyed the other two men in the car. Nadia's no murderer…she's a saint.

It had been about nine years since the last time she'd been at the hospital, since her baby sister had first begun to volunteer as an EMT at the age of 16. So much had changed about the place; for one thing: no one recognized her; which she had always counted as a good thing. It had been hours since she made the call. They're probably still in the ER or something. She thought as she slipped outside for a cigarette to calm her raging nerves. Her senses peaked and her mind went into a frenzy when she felt the hand on her naked upper arm. But she refrained from defending herself when she caught sight of the tattooed wrist clasping her arm; a tattoo matching the ones on her shoulders.

"So… who are you this time, Nadia? Their sister, girlfriend, wife, parole officer… dog walker?" the young EMT said, stabbing at her sister's chosen path with words.

"Good to see you again, too, Em… it sure has been a while."

"Answer me."

"Glad to see you haven't had that removed. It's the only thing saving your ass from possession. This year's been quite a busy one for those… record 30 possessions, so far." This seemed to catch the paramedic off guard.

"Why so many? Do you think the truck driver…" there was a pause, letting Nadia know exactly what her sister was talking about.

"In my professional opinion… it wasn't an accident. No such thing. You saw the trucker… don't tell me all this has made you forget your training."

"For as much as I wish it would, sometimes… no; my training actually helped with a lot of this." Dazedly, the 25 year old slowly sat down, "Wow; this is big. Whatever did this to those men… it's big, and now you've dragged your ass into it all. I hope you know what you're dealing with."

"Even if I don't… when have you ever known me to run from a fight?" she spat, mocking how, at one point in time Emily had run from a fight.

"Ouch."

"Can you sneak me in… a distraught girlfriend never deals with paperwork or doctors." Emily rolled her eyes dramatically, "Besides, you never know who's possessed or not, we have to be very careful, Emmy."

With that her sister stiffened and led Nadia back inside, and Nadia adopted an expression of utter panic and distress until they arrived at the room where the post-ER Winchester brothers were situated; sleeping peacefully with the help of heavy sedatives.

"Oh... Emily," Nadia whispered as her sister began to walk away from her, but the younger girl spun around at the mention of her name, "I'm going to need the name and address of the towing company that you guys work with."

"Why?"

"If these guys work the way I do… that car is very important to them. I want them to come out of this place with a very nice surprise." Emily snorted, shook her head at her sister and rolled her eyes once more. "What'd I do?"

"Where's my sister, and what have you done with her? Surely 9 years on the road by yourself hasn't turned you into this. You used to be so… I don't know; you didn't care about anyone but yourself and wasting the things that go bump in the night." She said as she coldly reminisced to her sister. Scrunching her nose as she caught a whiff of Nadia; she smelled like burnt rubber, gunpowder, blood, gas, sweat and tobacco. Her appearance wasn't much better; make up was faded or running, her maroon/auburn hair was tangled and flowing down to the middle of her back, her favorite red shirt had fallen off her shoulders showing off her tattoos, and her jeans were ripped and had visible traces of blood, glass and unknown liquid from a car.

"I did not, and I'm offended that you ever thought that! Was I like that? I just thought of myself as anti-social…huh."

"I see you're still smoking while saving the day." Emily deadpanned with a look on her face that clearly stated how annoyed she was.

"Well, saving peoples asses from things they refuse to believe exists is a rather taxing and stressful job… surely you remember, and I'm sure it required a little bit more of you than this job does." Nadia said in retaliation.

"I'll be back in half an hour with that info." She said flatly before adding, "And it really is good to see you again… skank."

"Cunt-monkey," Nadia quipped lovingly, hand grabbing blindly for the door knob as she watched her sister walk down the hall and disappear around the corner; Emily would never know how much she enjoyed seeing the young medic again. After years of protecting the girl, helping train the child… sheltering her and letting her take her rage out on Nadia when they're parents died… she thought they were inseparable, but the near decade long sabbatical her younger sibling had taken from the huntress proved otherwise. And for near ten years, Nadia went from hunt to hunt with a part of herself missing, constantly worrying if Emily was alright; but now, now she knew for sure and now she had reason to be near her again. Now she felt whole again.

The moment she walked into the room, she sensed a similar bond between the brothers; it worked quickly to aid each brother's recovery, and she smiled to herself.

"Hello again, boys." She said, suddenly realizing the conversation would be a bit one-sided. She picked up the clip board attached to the nearest bed, "Sam and Dean Weatherly… don't worry, sleep easily; I'm looking out for all three of you."

Nadia sat herself down in one of the terribly uncomfortable chairs in the room and watched the two sleeping forms dazedly. Something she would do everyday for the next two months after going to the car repair garage, overseeing the recovery of their precious mode of transportation. In that time, John was moved up to the same room and as a family they healed together, and judging from their laundry list of injuries… they healed quickly. For a good month all of them had been comatose, afterwards Sam would wake up for a few minutes each day; every time he'd wake to find himself extremely exhausted, never really noticing that the girl sitting in the room with them was not only not their doctor, but the very same girl that had saved them from Death's icy grip.

So there's the beginning of it... Like it? Love it? Hate it? Got a question or suggestion? Let me know.

Catch you guys on the flip side.