Colette's head was aching so hard she was sure it had to have been split in half. Everything hurt, actually. Her limbs refused to cooperate with what her brain was telling them to do and her eyelids seemed to have been hot glued shut. Nothing was moving- nothing could move. It was a pain she had never experienced before and all she wanted to do was scream, announce to the world how much torture she was going through as her muscles sizzled with shocks of electricity. Her blood was raging and bubbling and she was certain her organs were probably boiling in the seering liquid, but her vocal cords refused to work and strained against the slightest movement.

She tried to focus her attention else where, anything else but the extruciatingly painful jolts of energy that zipped through her body. For a few moments, she was positive she'd never find something that'd take her mind away from the god-awful sensations that were making themselves known around her body when she heard some voices. Her mind was alert, screaming at every muscle in Cole's body to move and allow her to run, but instead she remained still. Motionless. As the voices grew closer, she began to put voice with face and soon enough her muscles released the tension building up in them and she mentally sighed.

It was just those idiotic Winchesters and her father. Yipee.

"What, so you're just tellin' me my daughter's standing in a parking lot outside of a bar when all of a sudden a bolt of lightning strikes her?" Bobby snarled as he glared at the two.

"Yeah, that sums it up." Sam shrugged as his focus turned to Colette who laid in the same position as she was in when Dean had tucked her in.

"You know how absurd that sounds, right?"

"Just the other day you were talking about how you ganked a Leprechaun after dropping a can of salt and then stole it's money and you want to tell us Cole being struck by lighting is weird?" Dean questioned as he shook his head and walked towards the sleeping girl.

"Damn it," Bobby growled, "she's gone for seven entire years and then decides to show up unconscious and barely breathing!"

Sammy, noticing his brother's lingering stare and sadden eyes on Colette, looked to Bobby and offered, "We can head over to that liquor store down by that old church and get some beer. Clear our heads and brainstorm ideas to help Cole. Dean can stay watch and see if she wakes up."

Bobby thought it over before sighing and nodding. There wasn't anything exciting or eventful happening and he doubted she'd wake up within the half an hour they'd be gone, so the two of them headed out the door.

Dean sighed once more, this time tons heavier and full of a shit-ton emotions. He sat down on the couch next to her feet, just looking for any signs that she was conscious or... or something. He was also staring in shock as his best fri- ex... ex best-friend who he hadn't seen in seven years after their fight was lying on the couch as if it was any other day. Or at least it looked like she was just sleeping there, rather than actually being struck by lighting and all, but still. He hadn't seen her in seven years and taking her all in at once, not to mention taking in the part she may not ever wake up again, was a little brain-boggling, even for him.

Despite everything though, despite her maybe being dead in five minutes or five days, despite her being so different to when he had last saw her, his head kept wandering back to the fight. She was willing to speak Spanish to get out of talking with them. Hell, he didn't even know if the Spanish she had played off was even correct Spanish, but it just went to show how much she really didn't like them. Now, he was alone with her and although she may not hear him and although she's unconscious and although she can't respond, it still was an opportunity to apologize, so that's what he decided to do.

"Look, Colette," He started, his voice beginning to grow hoarse as the fact that his best friend may be dead soon took over, "I'm sorry for what I said all that time ago. I didn't mean it and I know I was a dick, but I need you to forgive me because... because you and Bobby are really the only family Sammy and I got and our friends are droppin' like flies." Dean bit his lip, hoping for any sign of movement, but nothing. So, he continued, "I seriously need you to wake up cause' Bobby's gunna have a field day on us both if you decide to cut the string, Cole. Am I allowed to call you that?" He thought for a moment before nodding and agreeing with himself, "I'm going to call you that- even if you don't want me to. I gave you that nickname in the first place anyway, so."

He knew he was beginning to sound childish but he didn't care. He was hoping it'd receive a laugh from her or some groggy insult or tired comment, but instead... nothing. He slumped against the wall the bed was up against and pushed the back of his head against it closing his eyes and staring up at the ceiling. How... how could she go from MIA to critical condition in point five seconds right in front of his face.

Dean's only wish for now, though, wasn't for her to accept his apology or talk to her father and sort things through... but to wake the fuck up because he wouldn't be able to live without her. Sure, he had survived pretty well without her for seven years, but that's with the knowledge that she could be alive. But if she dies now, and he has to live his life knowing she's dead and he couldn't do anything, he'd loose it. She was the only family he- Sammy and him had in dark times and for that Dean was in debt to her. That also meant that she meant more to him than just some pretty chick with a good back hand and kick too because unlike some of the female hunters he knew and had to work with on occasion, they grew up together. And sometimes, to his dismay, he realized how much he needed her, loved her; not that he'd ever admit it.

So there he was, sitting helplessly as he watched the slow rise of her stomach.

No, this wasn't helping anything. He growled and stood, frustrated with the fact he was helpless. Useless. What could he do? She was struck by fucking lightning. How the hell does that crap even happen? He began to pace, eventually finding himself at the fridge, cracking open a cold beer and beginning to chug the substances. Getting drunk seemed like an awful good idea right about no-

"W-Who knew Dean Winchester c-could be sucha' s-sap?" She hissed out, pain shooting up and down her body as she sat up.

Dean froze, spinning his head to be greeted with the pale-faced, tired-looking Colette who sat grasping her side and breathing heavily. He immediately set his drink down and rushed to her side.

"Colette, lay down, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

She waved her hand dismissively, turning her body and standing up. Unfortunately, her knees thought that this idea was too much work and decided to give out underneath her. She buckled over only to be caught by two arms who held her upwards against himself, a heavy sigh escaping his lips.

"You were just hit by lighting, for Christ's sake, sit back down." Dean scolded as he set her back down on the couch, returning to the fridge to get a cup of water and ice packs.

She rolled her eyes in response, wanting to stand up but reluctantly obeying his command, "Yeah, whatever."

He snorted at her casualness towards the fact she was struck as if it was just a, oh yeah, I was just struck by lighting, no biggie, and walked back to her. He took a seat next to her despite her little shuffle away at first and he looked to her with concern, "Where does it hurt?"

"I'm fine, Mom. Thanks." She huffed, taking the glass from him and chugging it, placing it on the counter and going to stand up again. "I gotta' go before my Dad gets back. Nice talk."

As she went to stand again, so did Dean, and he was able to catch her from falling again as the muscles in her legs all turned to liquid and had her collapse into him. She cursed under her breath, shrugging off his hands that were stabalizing her and grumbling, "Is there a wheelchair anywhere?"

Dean growled, getting annoyed with her persistence to leave. Didn't she realize the magnitude of the fact she was hit by lightning. He still didn't know how many more times he had to emphasize this before it went through her head. That's not just an every day occurance! "This isn't a damn retirement home, Colette. You're obviously not alright and when Sammy and Bobby get back, we'll figure out what to do next."

"No, no, no. There's no we, alright? I don't want any association with you people, I've left this life behi-"

"Then why were you asking about cold spots?"

"Because," She swallowed, trying to think of an excuse, "I just wanted to make sure the bar I'd be drinking at for a few days was anti-ghost."

Dean rose an eyebrow and scoffed, shaking his head at the desperation she had to make up such a stupid lie and sighed, "You're hurt, Colette, and I don't care if you hate me. I'm not letting you wander off in this state. Just cause' you decided you wanted to go doesn't mean my responsiblities of making sure you're safe are gone as well. I still-"

"Stop pretending like you didn't do anything wrong, Dean, alright?" She growled, "You said I was better off dead to this family, so I left. Stop trying to make it seem as if this entire thing was my idea and that I was more than happy to leave. I don't need your help, I've been fine on my own for seven years, thanks."

"That's not what I meant Cole, I just-"

"Colette." She breathed, reverting her eyes to hide the pain that she felt constrict her chest as she mumbled, "Only my family can call me Cole."

She didn't hate him. Well, she wanted to, she really wanted to, but she couldn't. She didn't like him... or that's what she told herself, but something she knew for certain was that if she was stuck around him, she'd end up forgiving him. It was something that she considered a weakness about herself. The ability to not hold grudges was something she wasn't a fan of about herself ever since Dean's lovely comment. At first she hated him, but as time went by, she became more upset that they weren't around. Regardless, she wasn't necessarily happy when she told Dean he wasn't family because he always would be. Even if she didn't agree with it at the moment.

It wasn't any better for Dean. It just felt as if someone had slammed their hand into his chest and tore away his heart. His chest felt tighten and his head was beginning to spin, but he knew he deserved it. He didn't deserve to be considered her family. Sighing, he bit his lip and stood, "I'll call Bobby and Sam, let them know your awake."

Cole watched as the Winchester turned and disappeared around the corner. She sat there for a few minutes, contemplating whether or not she was really up to seeing her father and best friend before she forced herself to stand, despite her screaming legs, and start for the door. Dean, sure, she could face. But not Sammy and Bobby. She had caused them unfair pain and that was on her. It wasn't them who said it and even at the time she knew they'd probably disagree with what Dean said- Hell, Sam did disagree with what Dean had said- but still she decided to go. Without a doubt, she knew her father was hurt along with Sam. The messages she got, the texts and emails and phonecalls she received just went to prove it. Not even just from Bobby, but from Sam and sometimes Dean too; they were heartwrenching and on multiple occasions she had gotten in her car and driven a few miles before always turning back.

Everytime she was in that car, foot pressed on the pedal and driving above the speed limit to get home faster, guilt speared her chest. The amount of grief she had caused them was something that weighed on her shoulders every damn day, and yeah, call her a coward, but she wouldn't face it. Couldn't face it.

"Yeah, she woke up ten or so minutes ago." Dean nodded from inside the dining room.

He sighed as the combination of Sam and Bobby's voices collaged together. Within seconds of the two battling over who got the phone, he had lost audio with the mike on Bobby's phone and there was just indistinct noises and inaudible murmurs. After a few minutes of the pointless bickering, Bobby regained control of the phone with an aggravated huff from Sam on the line and spoke, "Get her on the phone, would you? I'd like to talk to my daughter."

"Yeah, sure." Dean complied and began to walk towards the livingroom, "She's a bit shaken up and all, so it might be pullin' nails trying to get her to tal-"

His voice fell flat in his throat as he turned the corner. He should've known. God dammit, he should've known.

Bobby, noticing the heavy breathing beginning on the other line, furrowed his eyebrows, glanced at Sam, and snorted into the phone, "Dean, boy, what is it?"

When the older Winchester didn't respond, Bobby sat straighter in the driver seat of his car and growled, "Dean, you'd better start talking. What the hell's goin' on over there."

"She... She's gone."