I waited obediently in the car while Sam and Dean took Bobby into the hospital. We'd parked right outside the emergency room so I watched while they carried him in. Once they got inside, I could only see Sam's head and Dean's slightly lower one above the crowd. I got glimpses through people as they hurried by and could see that they got Bobby on a gurney and were wheeling him away. Sam and Dean stayed there for just a second and then raced back out of the hospital.

"We're not staying?" I asked, leaning forward against the back of the front seat as Dean started it up.

"Demon heard where the sword is. No telling who knows now. We've got to get to it before they do," Dean said. He turned and put his arm over the back of the seat to back out of the spot we were in. "Put your seatbelt on," he snapped when he saw me.

Unfazed by his tone, I slid back and put it on as he drove out of the lot. "How far is it?" I asked.

"Upstate New York?" Dean asked. "Pretty far." Then he gunned it.

It took us a couple of hours to get there, the drive grim and silent, the tension between Sam and Dean palpable. I kept my mouth shut and through the window watched the trees flit by on a background of starry sky. It was beautiful, but all it did was make me feel worse and overall, insignificant. As we got closer, Sam started loading weapons. I started to relax a little, but then I turned and noticed that Bobby had left blood on the seat of the Impala. Bile rose in my throat as the street lights flashed across the brownish-red spot. I turned away, and as I did, weirdly, I realized that the dried spot was shaped like a dragon.

"Dean," I tried to say, but it came out in a whimper. "Bobby's blood's on the seat." It was the first thing that any of us had said in an hour.

Dean looked at me through the rearview mirror, his eyes worried. It wasn't until he spoke that I realized he was worried about me. "There's some rags under the front seat, sweetheart," he said. "You want to try to clean it up?" I nodded and bent to find the rags. They were under Dean's seat and shone bright white in the moonlight. When I sat up, everything went a little wavery. I looked down at the rags in my hand. They were shaking back and forth and it took me a second to realize that my hand was what was shaking. I looked up to find that Sam had turned around in his seat.

"You ok, honey?" he asked.

I swallowed hard, nodded, and fainted.

When I came to, I was stretched out across the back seat with my feet resting on the windowsill. Dean was still driving but Sam was leaning awkwardly over the back seat. I blinked up at him and went to sit up.

"Nope, stay there," Sam said, pressing a hand down on my chest.

"She ok?" Dean demanded, his voice hoarse.

"For the tenth time, she's fine, Dean," Sam said. "She just fainted."

"I'm fine," I said. "I can sit up."

"Humor me," Sam said. When he was sure I was going to do what he said, he removed his hand and slithered back into the front seat where he could sit normally.

I stared up at the ceiling and a thought occurred to me. Alarmed, I sat up and scooted over to Dean's side, my hand sliding across the black leather. I let out a sigh of relief. Sam had cleaned up the blood dragon.

I looked up to see Dean looking at me through the mirror. He must've been ok with what he saw because he growled at me. "Satisfied?" he asked. I nodded, my eyes huge. "Lie back down."

His tone brooked no argument, so I stretched back out on the seat, on my side this time so I could see the backs of their heads. "Sorry," I said.

"It's ok, sweetheart. Just stay there for a bit, ok? I don't want you to faint again."

"It was the blood," I objected weakly, not mentioning the dragon shape. "Bobby's blood."

"Now the blood's gone," Sam said soothingly. "So just lie there and rest for a bit."

I did as I was told, closing my eyes. The rumble of the engine soothed me and before I knew it, I was asleep.

Bobby's fist jerked back and punched forward, driving into Dean again and again. Dean hollered in pain, his face bloodying under Bobby's blows.

"Don't," I screamed. "Stop!" I grabbed Bobby's arm and tried to make him stop. Bobby's head whipped around, his black eyes glaring at me, boring into my soul, but I didn't stop pulling on his arm. "Please!" I begged.

"Seen too much," he growled at me.. "Only way to drown the pain." He shook his arm and I went flying across the room, hitting the wall and landing hard on my butt. I got to my feet and ran back towards him, but it was too late. He shoved Dean into the wall and pulled back his fist, but now there was a knife in it. He brought it down like he was going to stab Dean but at the last second, he stabbed himself, the knife going deep, deep into his gut.

"No!" I screamed. "Bobby!" He let go of Dean and fell to the ground. I crawled to his still body on hands and knees. His eyes were brown again, full of pain. "Bobby," I whimpered, my hands covering the gaping hole in his stomach, pressing, holding him in. Bobby groaned and went still, the light left his eyes. "Bobby," I whimpered again. "No."

There was a nudging where my hands were pressed against his wound. A scrabbling, like little claws trying to get out. I moved my hands away. The edges of the knife wound fluttered and then split. One little red-brown, scaled claw slipped out, then another. Then all of a sudden, an entire miniature dragon pushed through. It stepped onto the horrid brown carpet and shook itself, little drops of blood flying everywhere, spattering me. The dragon tilted it's head at me and then leapt into the air, spread its leathery wings, and flew out the window and into the starry night sky.

I jerked awake. I was under my blanket in the Impala in the otherwise empty parking lot of Castle Storage. Sam and Dean were gone. I pushed the blanket off, sat up, and unlocked my door. My hand was on the door handle before I really stopped and considered. My head felt woozy and painful. I was in no shape to go after them and I was probably not supposed to. It's not like they'd told me to stay put, but I was pretty sure they wanted me out of this fight. If there had been any other option, they probably would have taken it. Hell, I bet that if they had had time to give me a proper cover story for why Bobby got stabbed, they would have left me at the hospital as his grandkid.

My hand dropped off the door handle and I relocked the door. I started crying, and once I started, I couldn't stop. I wasn't cut out for this. I was a kid for god's sake. Sure I could set fires, but that didn't really help. I didn't have enough training to do anything with what I had. It didn't help against demons. It didn't help against angels. I could fight, but I was still a kid, so too weak to fight without Sam and Dean's help. What use was I?

And everything I did ended in blood, fire, and heartache. Audra, Daina, Grazyna, Rasa, Vinnie…If I'd just allowed myself to become Gabby's priestess, if I'd just let her use me, they could have continued living their lives as they were. Instead, four were lost and one was beholden to the goddess I hated, all because I was too selfish to give in. I could have tried to figure out how to kill her once I'd accepted her instead of telling her to get lost and sacrificing all those other girls. And then Sister Grace and the kids at the school… Alice. Oh my god, Alice. I missed her so much, every day, even if our relationship had been based on me being a person that I wasn't. I had loved her.

What the hell was I doing? Why did I ever think I could be a hunter? Why did I ever think I could defeat Gabby? I couldn't even find her. It was useless. I was useless.

Tears fell and fell until I was choking into the blanket. My stomach was upset and I was dizzy. I tried to stop crying, but I couldn't. Bobby's words came to me, the ones I had heard from what I was now sure was the demon. "Seen too much." Well, it didn't matter. I HAD seen too much and I just wanted it to stop. I wanted to stop crying. I wanted to go back to sleep. I wanted there to be one place where I didn't have to face all this all the time. I wanted no dreams.

Still crying a little, I tossed the blanket aside and climbed clumsily over the front seat. I opened the glove box and pulled out a silver flask that Dean kept there, all the way in the back under some papers and a pistol. I unscrewed the top and took two gulps of the fiery liquid. It burned just as much, but since I knew to hold my breath this time, it wasn't as bad. I closed the flask back up and put it away, making sure to leave everything exactly as it had been, before crawling back into the back seat and pulling the blanket back over me again. I lay on the leather seat and reveled in the warmth flowing through me, relaxing my limbs, easing that tight knot that always was in my belly these days. After a few minutes, the knot was gone and I felt languid and loose. I smiled and then hiccuped, stretching my arms above me, out towards the ceiling.

I frowned. My arms were glowing, which meant I was glowing. I could see a faint outline against the cream-colored ceiling. That wasn't right. I'd set a fire yesterday. I shouldn't need to set one again. Turning my attention inward, I realized that my furnace wasn't completely closed. The lock was off, the latch was loose. I tightened the latch, put the lock back on and checked it again. I didn't want to set a fire. The whole point was to not set a fire, to not have to worry about the destruction.

The car was starting to feel spinny now. Last time I hadn't been awake this long. I don't think I drank as much last time either, a half a mouthful instead of two. That's ok. It would be ok. I rolled over onto my side and relaxed into the spin of the car. With my eyes closed, it was like being on a ride at an amusement park, like the one my dad took me to when I was eight with the teacups and the tilt-a-whirl. When I opened my eyes, everything came to an abrupt halt, so I closed them again.

I was almost asleep when I remembered that when Dean and Bobby had been drinking, the house had smelled like a distillery. I stayed awake long enough to roll down the window just a little, letting in the fresh smelling air from outside. Satisfied that I'd covered all the bases, I covered my head and fell asleep.