Cold, damp soil settled against the woman's skin, creating goose bumps along her arms. She regained consciousness slowly and groaned from the massive pain in the back of her skull. She couldn't move her limbs and it seemed like all the warmth she had disappeared completely. Her lungs craved air, but instead inhaled the heavy soil piled on top of her. Panic set in and she used her hands to claw her way to the surface. I'm…buried alive? The thought drifted across her mind and dissipated quickly.

She gasped for fresh air as she emerged from the earth and coughed loudly. The taste of melting bitterness swirled around her mouth, making her grimace and spit the dirt out next to her. The woman struggled to stand up, her limbs shaking terribly from the cold. She winced from the pain erupting from her rib cage and surging up her side. She ran her fingers over her wet, long sleeved gray shirt. A sigh left her lungs when her hands rubbed against the sleeveless leather jacket that weighed her down. Taking it off would be a waste of energy, so she left it on. The blue jeans she had on rubbed against her skin, causing it to get irritated. Her hands skimmed over the wound on her head, and found dry blood and soil in her soaked black hair. Her light brown eyes glanced around her surroundings, trying to figure out where she was.

Her breath became a thin fog as she exhaled. The cold night was regular for early November weather, but the feel of it against her moist skin left goose bumps climbing her arms. The moon shone down on the forest, sprinkling through the leaves like little search lights. Stars dimmed against the black sky, small clouds floating over their images without a care in the world. Grasshoppers chirped softly to their own tunes while the rest of the wildlife slept soundly in their makeshift beds. The woman inhaled sharply and smelled fresh dew on the green grass. The raw aroma of trees and animals mixed together, creating an almost serene and real nature smell. Her senses threw her off and the littlest things irritated her. She couldn't focus on anything in particular.

Her breathing slowed and became shallow, putting her into a state of worry. S-so…cold… She stumbled forward and latched onto a tree before she could fall. Body s-slowly shutting d-down from hypothermia… She thought and pushed forward. She was going to die soon if she didn't get help.

The woman's eyebrows furrowed and her mind searched for any memory of how she got there. She couldn't find any recollection of the past twenty-four hours, causing anger to course through her veins. Feeling angry, confused, and lost, she grimaced and let the emotions take over. She couldn't let the cold cloud her mind and make her weak.

Grunting and agitated cries arose to her left, so she immediately headed towards the source of it. Her legs wobbled and she almost toppled over, but she managed to hold herself up. She could feel certain functions slowly shut down, and her brain sent out adrenaline throughout her system. Her brown eyes focused on what was happening in front of her, making her take a step back to analyze the situation overall.

Two men struggled to gain control of the fight, slamming each other into different tree trunks they came close to. The short one, frail and thin, had the advantage for a few seconds. He kicked the taller one in the stomach and grabbed a hold of the knife in his opponent's hand. The tall one backed up and waited for his enemy to strike. He brushed his shoulder length brown hair out of his eyes and spit blood out of his mouth. The short one attacked, slicing the knife close to the tall one's chest and arms. He dodged every move, countering with his own kicks and punches.

The woman hid behind a tree and leaned against it, trying to steady her staggered breathing. She wanted to help fight alongside the good guy, but she didn't know exactly which person that was. She had learned the hard way that some creatures could inhabit humans or take their image. I'm never t-trusting another ice cream m-man again…The memory of that incident fled faster than it had arrived and a new thought took over. What if one of them b-buried me alive? They'll k-kill me if they see me.

She knew she was in no condition to fight, so she turned around and attempted to march on. Her limbs shook erratically and the pain in her ribs amplified with every movement. A cough pushed its way out of her throat, causing her to stumble and fall to the ground. She tried to get her bearings straight and keep going, but her limbs numbed and felt heavy like lead. Her breaths left her panicked and slight cries of misery escaped passed her lips. Her back slammed against the floor like dead weight, allowing her to gaze up at the sky one last time.

The sounds died down and the forest became quiet, except for the woman's small gasps. She just wanted to die quickly, not slow and patiently waiting for her organ systems to finally shut down. She hated the fact she was going out in a weak way and not in a blaze of glory. This situation wasn't worthy. Of all the things she's done, the good and the bad, the thought of having an ending like this only made it more agonizing.

Heavy footsteps became audible, and soon a figure emerged from the dark shadows of the trees. It loomed over the woman, its chest rising and falling quickly, but steadied itself. It dropped the blood-stained blade it had in its hand and fell to its knees beside her. It took off its jacket, placing the clothing item over her wet clothes carefully. A male voice pervaded the air, "Are you hurt?"

She shook her head as much as she could until she realized it probably was too dark to see. "R-ribs…and h-head…" she mumbled, the cold air stabbing the inside of her throat as she inhaled.

The man's fingers wrapped around her arm to get a grip to pick her up, but he hesitated. "You're freezing…You're going to get hypothermia out here."

"Al-already do…" she cringed. From the way the pain jolted up her side, she could only imagine a few of her ribs were broken. Can I trust this guy…?

He gently picked her up and carried her bridal style through the forest. His long strides made it seem like he as in a calm jog, and his grip on her ribs caused her to scream. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry. We're almost there…"

He's h-helping me stay alive…Might as w-well trust him for t-the night. The woman thought and shook in his grasp. When they came into the light, she noticed it was the tall man from the fight. Blood stained his red flannel shirt and splotched on his scruffy face, but streak marks indicated he tried to wipe it away. His hazel eyes searched the trees to make sure no one followed them.

A sleek black car sat on the edge of the dirt road. The man fumbled with the keys, giving Kristen enough time to analyze what kind of hunter he was. A pillow and a blanket rested in the back and items of clothing were neatly piled on the tan leathered passenger seat. Hygiene necessities were in a bag to the side, but other than that, the car was clean.

Neat person…saves people…He seems okay so far. She contemplated.

The hunter managed to open the car door and slid inside with the woman on his lap. He reached backwards and snatched the blanket. "You have to get out of your wet clothes."

"Whoa, h-hey…take me to d-dinner first," she joked while her hands fumbled with her shirt. The sharp stabbing feeling amplified, but she grit her teeth and pushed through it.

The hunter chuckled lightly and nodded. "I see you still have your sense of humor in the worst of times." The man removed his red plaid shirt and set it aside. A dark anti-possession tattoo sat on the left side of his chest, and one of his arms hovered around the woman just in case she fainted from heat loss. He picked out a pair of pajama pants from the pile and gestured to the woman's soaked ones. "Mind if I help? You need to get out of them quickly to restore heat." She shook her head and finally put effort into getting the shirt over her head. The man spoke up again, "Put my shirt on."

"No, y-you need it."

He gave her an Are-You-Serious look and paused for a second. "Saving people is what I do, so please, put it on."

She complied with what he said. Warmth enveloped her, sending chills down her spine. She helped him remove her pants and put on the new ones. If this were any other situation, it would feel far less embarrassing. She hated being in a situation that was out of her control.

He turned a knob and pushed a button on the car. The heater clanked and started up. A loud noise rang through the air, making the woman jump in her spot. "It's okay, it's okay. There's a lego that's stuck in the heating vent. It's been there since we…I was a kid." The man carefully pulled her to him and wrapped both of them in the blanket.

After getting situated, the woman rested her head on the man's shoulder and forced her eyes to remain open. Warmth only fueled her exhaustion and sleep sounded more appealing by the second. The dead weight from her numb limbs downed her spirits even more. The man rubbed his thumb over her arm and felt the material of his red flannel shirt. He sat there in thought for a moment until he noticed she was falling asleep. Going unconscious while having a possible concussion could lead to dangerous things. He quickly spoke up, "Are you warming up yet?"

"Y-yeah…thanks."

"What are you doing out here? Catching a midnight stroll?" The sarcasm in his voice lightened the mood a bit, but not much.

Her eyebrows knit together in confusion and she stuttered, "I don't r-remember…"

"What's the last thing you remember?" He interrogated, slight curiosity leading in his voice. His head didn't touch hers to make sure he wouldn't make her head injury worse. His eyes stayed forward and looked out into the woods and the dirt road. Fog hung in the air, bending the moon's rays in weird ways.

The memory was burned in the back of her skull. The love, the care, the joyful emotion she got when she saw them… "I…I came home to see my family."

He quickly moved onto the next question, almost like an interrogation. "Why were you soaked?"

Is this guy a hunter, a cop, or both? The thought pushed its way into her mind and she chose to ignore it. He did find her out in the woods needing help, but she knew she needed more answers than him. "I was buried alive. The soil was damp above me, but not below me, so I must have been there for a while."

"Can-"

The woman cried out in frustration, "Can you ask q-questions later? P-please."

The man nodded, yet added onto his point immediately after, "You said you have a head injury. I'm just trying to keep you awake."

"Yeah, well, if you keep questioning me, I won't be the only one here with a head injury," she threatened in almost a playful way. The frustration still stuck around and irritated her, but this man saved her life. She had to push the frustration away for now. Covering it up with jokes and playfulness might make both of them feel better about the situation.

He chuckled, "I don't think I'm too worried."

She rolled her eyes and tried not to move. Moving only caused more suffering. Words seemed to slip out of her mouth before she could comprehend it, "What's your name?"

The man took a moment and the muscle in his jaw flexed. His stare stopped focusing on the outside and looked down at the time on the clock: 1:56 in the morning. "Sam. Sam Winchester."

Fuck…A Winchester? I'm not trying to get on their bad side too. The thoughts swam across her mind, leaving a sickening feeling in her system. I am so screwed. These boys cause more chaos than good, or so I've heard. I just have to pretend I don't know who he is. Feign innocence. "Nice to meet you, Sam," she spoke in almost a whisper.

"What's your name?" Sam asked and tried to glance over at her.

Oh God, what do I do? Think straight here, Kristen Halloway. He's a Winchester. Giving him my real name would be like signing my own death certificate. If I cross him in any way, he'll hunt me down next. I'm going to give him a fake name. Kristen contemplated and replied, "Claire."