Chapter Three
Sam pushed past Dean into the room and grabbed his duffel bag. "Dean, the demon is on his way here right now. I don't know when he'll be here, but he's coming."
"How the hell do you know that?" Dean had grabbed his own bag and began to stuff his clothes in it.
"He spoke to me in my head. He told me we needed to keep her safe for him."
"How the hell is he talking to you in your head? How the hell does he know about her? Are you sure he was talking about Alyssa?" He continued to pack his clothes, hoping Sam would come up with some answers. Dean wanted to tell his brother what he learned from Alyssa, but it seemed there was no time for that now.
"I don't know, Dean. I just don't know."
Alyssa stood in the bathroom doorway, watching the two men frantically pack their belongings, making sure to forget nothing.
"I'm leaving. You two go north, and I'll keep heading south!" Alyssa grabbed her jacket and bag and ran out the motel room door, staring into the darkened sky.
"Alyssa, no!" Sam made to follow her, but Dean was quicker on the draw.
Outside in the moonless night, she made her way to the middle of the parking lot, looking from one end to the other, searching for something.
'The stars look so beautiful,' she thought.
'Just make sure they're not the last stars you see,' the voice cautioned.
She closed her eyes to the night and opened herself up to the energy around her. She envisioned tendrils of her power working their way out into the world, searching for something, anything that could tell her what was coming.
She felt it, him, coming their way. Every fiber of her being was screaming for her to run, but the voice spoke louder.
'We fight or we run. But you have to do something.'
Just what do you want me to do? She could feel the air getting thicker.
"Alyssa!" Dean ran out the door with his bag in hand. Sam was right behind him. "What the hell is she doing, Sam?" Dean's arms were covered in the same goose bumps he'd felt earlier when she'd been working with Sam's vision.
"I don't know. " Sam could feel Alyssa's energy reaching out, touching him, awakening a part of him he had never known before.
"He's here," she whispered.
The explosion knocked Alyssa off her feet sending a fireball well over a hundred feet in the air and spreading debris across the parking lot and into the streets. The restaurant and the patrons inside had been obliterated.
Dean ran to Alyssa helping her off the ground.
"You alright?" Dean looked at what remained of the restaurant. They had just been in there eating, and so had Sam.
"I'm fine. All those people, Dean." Alyssa could feel the death around her and see the spirits of those who had died wandering around aimlessly. Some of them disappeared in momentary flashes of light, while others seemed to have no idea what had happened to them and searched for lost loved ones.
"You knew, didn't you? You knew something was coming."
'I didn't know it would be this.'
"What the hell?" Dean was looking at the remains of the burning restaurant. Someone was walking out of it. Perhaps he was a survivor of the accident
"We need to go now!" Alyssa knew who it was and wanted nothing more than to run as far and as fast as possible.
"I agree!" Sam knew too. He was trying to get their bags in the Impala, keeping his eye on the figure of a man walking right through the flames without a smoldering ember touching him.
Dean was just about to open the car door when he felt himself being thrown back against the side of the Impala.
Sam hit the rear end of the car and turned to see Alyssa pinned between him and his brother.
"Good job, Sammy. I knew I could trust you. She's still in one piece." He sniffed the air, "And she's still fresh." The yellow-eyed demon was pleased to see the Winchester sons, but not as much as seeing her, his ultimate prize.
She was what he had spent so much time searching for. And here she was, lined up with the Winchesters, ready for the picking.
"Have you met the boys before, my dear?' he waited for a response. Getting none, he continued, "Oh, I see you have. Was it a pleasant reunion?"
The body he had possessed was handsome for a forty-something. His hair had been graying when the heart attack hit. As the life fled his blue eyes, the demon had made himself at home.
"I know about you, "Alyssa hadn't personally dealt with him, but she knew someone who had been touched by him, someone very close to her. Since then, she'd spent a lot of her free time learning about this high-level demon.
"I wouldn't listen to the boys here. Their opinion of me is rather biased. I'm really not that bad of a guy." His full attention was on Alyssa, but he didn't want Sam and Dean to feel left out. "Now, I bet you boys are wondering why I'm here, and why I haven't killed you yet. I'm not here for you, this time. I want her." His yellow eyes trailed up and down Alyssa, making her feel as though she were a piece of meat on the auction block.
Sam was straining against the demon's control. "What do you want with her?"
"Now if I gave away the punch line, it wouldn't be as much fun watching you two play the game? But, I'll make it interesting. I'll show her."
The demon laid his cold, dead hand against Alyssa's face, almost as if to cradle her head. She tried to pull away from him but found she couldn't move very far. Alyssa gasped as she was pulled violently into a vision, her breath caught in his demonic grasp.
Dean watched helplessly as she fought against the demon's touch. Tears were streaming from her eyes as she lived the scene that played in her mind. Dean swore to himself he was personally going to be the one to pull the trigger that killed the bastard.
Alyssa finally breathed as the vision ended and the demon released her from his grip. She turned to Dean, her eyes wild with fear.
Don't let him see it. Don't let him win, he thought, willing her to hear him.
"So, what do you think, Alyssa? Your one dream comes true. I can make it happen," the demon's yellow eyes searched her soul for her answer, all the while grinning as if he'd already won.
"Leave her alone!" Dean growled, straining against the force that held him to the car.
Alyssa could hear his voice, but her mind was deep in the images of the demon's promise.
"Alyssa, don't listen to him!" Sam was doing what he could to back up his brother, trying to break free.
She could see herself in the vision: her one dream. Could it really happen?
Dean could almost see the thoughts working their way through her mind. "Whatever he promises comes with a price, Alyssa! You know how it works with demons!"
Even though her heart cried for what could be, she knew he was right. There would be a high price, and it was a price she wasn't willing to pay even if it meant for her to shatter all hopes for that one dream to ever come true.
She could see Dean's face in the light from the blazing diner, the flames reflected in his eyes. His fight, his anger, his desire to destroy this demon touched something in her. She saw the fear and anguish of someone from her past living and breathing in the man trapped next to her. She searched herself for something, for some way to protect him, to save him.
And there behind the fear, hidden by the rage, was a cold darkness waiting for her to call to it.
Seeing the look on her face, the calm in her eyes, Dean worried Alyssa was going to do something foolish and get herself killed. He struggled even more to free himself from the invisible clutches of the demon.
Alyssa had seen the rage in Dean's eyes, but that's not what she felt at this moment.
'Call to it, Alyssa.'
'Call to what?' She thought back.
But something in her knew exactly what to do, and she simply followed directions. The darkness obeyed her, coming forth like the night takes the day. In the blackness in her mind, she could let everything go, her fear, her hate, her anger, and her pain. She no longer feared death or this demon. She had faced the worst of humanity within herself and in this world, and he was no match for that. With her soul void of all emotion, the peacefulness grew, reaching towards her, and wrapping around her.
The demon sensed the change, and saw the brown in Alyssa's eyes fade to a sheer white.
"What's this? A new trick, Sammy? Have you developed a new power?" The demon seemed impressed.
"That's not me, you bastard." Sam was able to free a hand. The demon's powers were weakening, but something within him was growing stronger.
Dean could also feel the power surging through the air, and it was as if he were under attack by thousands of bugs crawling across his skin.
"Let them go." Her voice sounded just as calm as her face looked. Alyssa stepped away from the car with ease. The demon no longer had a hold of her. "Let them go," she repeated as she encroached upon the demon's human host.
And with those few words spoken, the boys were free. They nearly fell forward from the rapid release of their bodies from their invisible restraints. Sam and Dean were no longer trapped by the demon. They looked at each other in disbelief.
"Leave now. You have no power here." Alyssa moved ever closer to the demon. She could smell the faint cologne that had lingered on the body of the man as he had died.
"Not you, huh, Sam? Then that means…" The demon seemed worried at first, but then a new realization crossed his features. Knowing he was most likely going to lose this battle, he wanted to test her, before she did could do anything to him that might be permanent.
Using all he could muster, he tried to throw Dean against the car.
Nothing.
He tried lifting him in the air, wanting with all his desire to throw the infuriating Winchester far from his sight.
Again nothing.
He wanted to tear Dean apart right there, but he couldn't even cause a scratch. His power was null and void, as if turned off by something of which she controlled.
"Leave NOW!!" A pulse of energy went through the air. Sam felt it as a punch to his stomach, and Dean felt needles running up and down his skin.
The demon had vanished. He wasn't walking away, hadn't been thrown into the air, or was slowly fading away; he was just gone.
The boys looked around with their guns drawn searching for a target, wondering if he'd show right back up again.
"Dean." It was all the strength Alyssa had left to say his name. Her eyes were normal again as she collapsed on the ground unconscious.
Sam jammed the gun into his jacket pocket and laid two fingers on the side of her neck that held no scars, feeling something within him pulsing with the same rhythm as her heartbeat. She was alive, just out for the count.
Dean picked her up and placed her in the back seat of the Impala. She had only the leather bag, so Sam gathered it up and put it in the trunk with their things.
"What the hell happened, Dean?" Sam got in the passenger seat, glancing back at the unconscious form in the back seat.
"I don't know, Sam. But I think the demon just got his ass kicked by a girl." Dean started up the car and headed north leaving behind the devastation and bringing with him a myriad of unanswered questions.
Alyssa was back in his life, but what had she brought with her? And did he really want to get involved in this all over again? Dad wasn't here to get in the way, but where exactly could this all lead? He decided it was best to leave the emotional side alone and focus on the matter at hand.
They needed help from someone they knew they could trust. Bobby would know what to do; at least Dean hoped he would. He also silently hoped Bobby wasn't pissed at Alyssa for anything as well. Another tense family reunion could make things difficult.
The drive had been a long, uneventful ten hours, and they were still at least two days from Bobby's junkyard in South Dakota.
After a bit of arguing, Sam finally convinced Dean to stop over at a motel so they could get something to eat, check on the still unconscious Alyssa, and get some much needed sleep.
While Sam was paying for the rooms, Dean was doing his best to rouse Alyssa in the back seat of the car.
"Alyssa." He was concerned with her still being out for this long.
What the hell happened? He thought about their last meeting with the demon. What did the demon show her to make her freak out and do something really weird? And how had she stopped the demon? So many questions with no answers
"Alyssa, wake up." Dean held her face in his hands. She seemed so at peace as she slept. She hadn't changed much in the last decade or so. She was still just as beautiful as their first night together. Damn. Why did she have to come back?
"No, don't make me…" Alyssa whispered. Her breath caught in her throat before she passed out once again.
Dean was relieved to know that she was still in there somewhere. He maneuvered her out of the car and into his arms, waiting for Sam to arrive with the room keys.
Sam was back with the keys to two rooms. It had been decided that each of them would take turns watching her until she came around.
Sam was taking the first shift, so Dean could get some sleep. After all, he had driven straight through without stopping.
The rooms were modestly decorated as most small town motel rooms go. Dean laid Alyssa on the bed, arranging her in a comfortable sleeping position.
"You want to shower first? " he asked Sam.
"No. You go ahead. I'll just watch TV 'til it's your turn." Sam settled down in one of the chairs and found the remote to the television. "She's going to be okay, right, Dean?"
"Yeah, she woke up in the car. I think she'll be okay." He left his brother with Alyssa and headed to their room to shower and catch some sleep.
With the stench of charred flesh and burnt wood washed away, Dean lay on the bed hoping sleep would overtake him quickly. However, he was disappointed to find himself staring at the ceiling thinking of the previous night's events. He kept going over what he had witnessed with the demon and Alyssa, how he felt about her sudden return into his life, how she could be tied with the demon, how he felt about the truth of her disappearance, how she beat the demon. The thoughts and questions just kept coming, but some time during his reverie, sleep finally caught up to him.
It was Dean's turn to watch the unconscious woman, and Sam was seriously fighting off the exhaustion that threatened to engulf him. He'd given his brother two more hours of sleep then the four they'd originally agreed upon, for Sam knew he needed it.
He shook Dean's arm, "Hey, sleeping beauty, your turn."
"Hmmph. What?" It felt like he had just fallen asleep. "Already?"
"What do you mean? You've been asleep for six hours." Sam was heading to the bathroom to take his shower.
"What? Hey! Is she okay? She still asleep?" Dean was up and wide-awake, searching for his clothes.
Sam shouted from behind the bathroom door. "Yeah, she's fine and still asleep. There's coffee on the table for you."
"Thanks!" Dean finished getting dressed, grabbed the coffee, and headed for Alyssa's room.
She was still sleeping pretty much as he had left her. Dean settled down in the chair to take his turn at watching the tube, expecting nothing more to happen for the rest of the day.
Alyssa sat straight up in the bed; eyes wide open, gasping for breath as if she had been drowning.
"Whoa, geez." Dean almost choked on his coffee, spilling some on his pants. He set his cup on the table and moved across the room to the bed, sitting next to her.
"Where are we?" She looked around at the unfamiliar room.
"We're safe. It's okay. You need to take it easy. You've been asleep for about sixteen hours. Sam ordered pizza earlier, but it's cold by now. You want some?" Dean got up to get the pizza for her.
"I need my sketchbook. Please."
"Sure. Don't you think you should eat first?" He got her leather bag and handed it to her on the bed. She hurriedly pulled out the book and pencils.
Dean dropped the pizza box in front of her as he sat down next to her again. Alyssa tore open the box and grabbed the first piece of pizza she could wrestle free. With food in one hand and a pencil in the other, she began sketching on the first clean sheet in her book.
"You're welcome," he said, watching her as she drew.
Lines here, lines there, it didn't make a lick of sense to him. He wanted to know what had happened with the demon, and it seemed if he waited long enough, he was going to find out.
Slowly the scene came together. He could make out the demon and Alyssa standing next to him. Sam was there too; his eyes darkened, black, as if possessed. As more of the vision came to light, Dean laid a hand on her arm, stopping her from drawing.
"Alyssa. Is this what the demon showed you back there?" His hand was warm against hers, quickening her pulse with his touch. She swallowed a bite of pizza a bit too hard.
"Yes." She whispered. "Please let me finish it."
Dean let her go back to work on the drawing. He got his coffee and again turned his attention to her forceful sketching. As she drew more of the vision, Dean could finally make out what the demon had shown her.
Alyssa was standing next to the demon with an infant in her arms and her belly swollen with the promise of another on the way, and Sam seemed to be a part of it all somehow as he was in the foreground with the eyes of fire. Hidden tears appeared on the drawing smearing a few of the lines.
"Hey, it's okay," Dean took the pencil and book from her. He didn't want her to see it anymore, but he knew it was already forever in her mind. "Alyssa. The visions aren't set in stone. We stop them. That's what Sam and I do. He has a vision, we find the people, and we save them."
She finally had the strength to look Dean in the eyes. She hadn't the words to explain the depth of emotions the demon had touched with his vision for her future. How could he possibly understand how deep this really went? She wanted to cry, but not in front of him. She closed off her emotions, not wanting to let him see just how close she had come to breaking apart. A few tears escaped, but she quickly swept them away.
He didn't know how to handle a woman in tears. That was Sam's job, dealing with the emotional stuff. He admired her stone will to not let the emotions carry her away, but he also knew the true cost of such stoic doggedness.
Alyssa quickly regained her composure and excused herself to the shower.
He watched her with a sense that there was more to this than she was letting on. He got up and looked at the drawing again. The image of Alyssa pregnant gnawed at him. There was something he should know about this, something he should remember.
Was what she'd drawn the demon's ultimate plan? To make an army of demon half-breeds with Alyssa? And why her? What made her so special to be chosen for this?
Alyssa had cried herself out in the shower. Every fear, every horrible memory, every ache in her heart finally had an escape. She wouldn't allow Dean to see her this weak and vulnerable.
She had worked her ass off to gain the respect of other hunters. She wasn't about to blow everything she'd accomplished because of …what? The vision? What it meant to her? Could Dean even begin to understand? And what about Dean? How did she feel about him? How did he feel about her?
Their past flooded her mind, breaking her heart as if it had never been broken in the first place. Having to face him, look into his eyes, hear his voice calling her name was wicked torture. She wanted to touch him, feel him, and know him once again, but she didn't dare. Her track record with men wasn't just awful it was downright terrifying.
After her tryst with Dean ended the day after her eighteenth birthday, it had taken her a couple of years to get up the courage to even think about dating again. She had been so engrossed in hunting she completely forgot about her own emotional and physical needs.
On a hunt for a death omen, she had literally run into a nice, handsome guy who showed more than a passing interest in her. She took the chance and dated him for a couple of months, and their relationship was finally heading for more intimacy, but that's when things went very wrong.
They were in her motel room getting hot and heavy with the action and were about to make it to home base, when her new beau got out of the bed, never once answering her as she called to him over and over again. Without a sound or even a hesitation, he walked over to her leather bag, pulled out her ritual knife, and cut his own throat clear through.
She couldn't find her voice to scream as she listened to him choking on his own blood. She could only sit naked in the bed, in shock, and watch as his life flowed from the self-inflicted wound.
As the years passed, the same thing happened to the men she tried to have any type of relations with, even the one-night stand attempts. All of them were dead, all from suicides. She was like the Black Widow with men dropping dead around her.
After five suicides, she took herself off the dating field. The game was over for her. She didn't want to be responsible for the deaths of any more men. She never knew what the hell had been happening to her.
Her answer had been found in the demon's vision. She now knew why she had been alone all these years. He was keeping her for himself. No mortal man was allowed to touch her. She was to be his bride, and for her promised hand, he would give her what she had wanted most in this world.
The demon knew her deepest wish, and he was using it against her, bribing her with it. She thought of the image of herself holding an infant.
The sinking feeling in her chest was her heart shattering into tiny pieces, never to be whole again. If this were the only way for her to have that one wish, then she would have to regretfully decline the offer.
Freshly showered and emotionally spent, Alyssa stood in the doorway of the bathroom staring at Dean's back as he scrutinized her most recent sketching.
He had filled out quite a bit since she last saw him, his arms stretching the material of his shirt, his back muscular, but not too much. She felt the familiar stirrings within her, calling to him, wanting him.
'Control yourself!' The voice screamed. 'You know what happens to them when you get too close.'
This voice was familiar. She'd heard it so many times before, always guiding her, always keeping her safe.
Her body rejected the thoughts, driving her to want him. She couldn't fight the surge of long-denied hormones with sanity and reason.
'But he's a Winchester. He could handle it. Maybe he could find a way to stop it from happening again. I want him, please.'
The voice was not so easily persuaded.
'And what happens if you fail to stop it? Could you live with yourself knowing you killed him?'
'I already know the answer. Just forget it.'
She dropped the argument, reining her hormones under control as always, no longer wanting to think of the more than probable outcome. She steeled herself against her emotions and thoughts, and made her way back into the room.
"Dean," she stepped around him and took the picture from his hands. "I don't want to see it right now, okay?" Closing the book, she placed it and the pencils back in her bag.
"What do you think it means?" He stared at her as she put the book away. Her long hair was freshly washed and still damp. The smell of her was intoxicating. She had on a black tank top that showed off her toned arms so perfectly. Her jeans weren't too tight, but they did fit every curve of her nicely.
She grabbed another piece of pizza, snagged the last beer of the six-pack on the table, and plopped herself in the chair, crossing her long legs in front of her, Indian style. Dean sat down across the table from her, taking a piece of cold pizza for himself.
"It seems pretty obvious, doesn't it? I'm meant for bigger and nastier things. I'm tainted goods."
"What do you mean tainted goods?"
"I mean like I'm cursed," she said matter-of-factly and took a swig of her beer.
"You're not serious. You think this is your destiny? You think this is what's meant for you? And you're just going to accept it and not fight back?" Dean wasn't going to let her become another victim of the demon, especially if the demon's plan is to have half-breeds walking around the world.
"You think I want this? You think I want to be the mother of the destruction of the world?" Her voice cracked.
Speaking the word "mother" brought a wave of despair and pain stomping across the remains of her heart. She had to take a minute to breathe.
"I'm saying I now know why I haven't been able to be with anyone." She took a huge bite of pizza before she could no longer contain herself.
"What do you mean by…?" He saw the answer in her eyes. "You haven't been with anyone since we…?" Dean was in shock. "That's over ten years ago, Alyssa. How? Why?" He couldn't wrap his head around the idea of ten years of celibacy. Sam took almost a year to get over Jess enough to even kiss another girl, let alone sleep with one.
"It wasn't by my own design. I didn't want to be responsible for any more men killing themselves."
"Wait…they killed themselves? How?" He put his slice of pizza down, unable to finish it. "You were that bad?"
"Thanks, Dean. I feel so much better. And from what I recall, you were pretty impressed. Unless of course, you were just compensating for your own inadequacies." The fight was on if he wanted to continue, but secretly she hoped he wouldn't.
"Practice makes perfect you know." Dean regretted saying the words as soon as they'd left his lips. He could see the pain in her eyes, even though her face was as blank as one of the empty pages of her sketchbook.
She let the remark go, knowing going any further would only get one of them hurt, and maybe a few more scars. "We'd get to the point of getting to home base and they'd get up and kill themselves right in front of me. One used my own knife. Another used his own police-issued weapon. That was fun, trying to explain to the cops how one of their own blew his own head off because he was about to get lucky. And one guy even jumped out the window of his eighth floor apartment. He did a swan dive like I'd never seen before. If it could be done, they did it."
"Did their eyes go black or anything? Did they seem possessed?"
"Nope. Nothing." She stepped back into the past. "They got this blankness in their eyes, like the lights were on but nobody was home." She shook off the memory, "I stopped dating, and I concentrated on hunting. I'd do the job and move on before anyone could even say thanks."
"So this vision of you and the demon has something to do with dudes offing themselves? Like he's trying to keep you for himself or something. You think it has anything to do with what you did back there? I mean he didn't seem too surprised or even worried, almost like he was thrilled with what you did."
"I guess so. He's probably making sure I'm worthy of him or something like that. Does it matter? I'd rather take my own life than end up being his whore," she looked at the empty bottle in her hand, " I need another beer." She got up to head for the mini-fridge.
Dean grabbed her arm. A shock went through her body that reached to her very soul. She couldn't catch her breath. He felt so warm.
'Please, let me have him just once,' she pleaded.
'Not on his life,' the reprimand was strong and unarguable.
"You okay?" He felt something pass through his hand, like warm water washing over his skin. It felt comforting, easing his worries.
"I'm fine," she pulled her arm from his grasp and continued on her search for another beer. Getting drunk was probably not the best idea right now, especially with Dean in the room, but considering what she was facing, drinking herself into a stupor was exactly what she needed.
The warm sensation worked its way through his body, lighting embers he thought were cold and dead. What could he do to help her? Could he help her?
He and Sam had discussed the implications of what Alyssa had been able to do to the demon. His brother's theory was she could negate the powers of evil, kind of like a positive to the demon's negative.
But they had no idea why the demon would be interested in her. What could he gain by possessing someone who could destroy his own powers? And what about the whole deal with her Black Widow syndrome? Was there a way to stop it? Again the questions bounced around in his head.
He watched as Alyssa cracked open another beer. She looked intent on drowning her problems in alcohol, and he knew from experience the ending result was nothing more than a hangover and a migraine.
She could feel his eyes on her. What did she care what Dean thought of her? Let him think whatever he wanted. She couldn't care less, really.
Was she kidding herself? Of course she gave a damn what Dean thought of her. She always had. She had sworn to herself if she had ever come across him again, she would make sure he knew whom and what she was, a strong hunter who could take care of herself. But now, he knew more than she had planned. He knew about the secret she had kept about his father, her dream walking abilities, and now her curse.
What must he think of me, now? Didn't matter. Nothing matters now. Her life as she knew it was over. Her family had fallen victim to the yellow-eyed demon, and now it was her turn.
Sam lay restless in the clean sheets of the motel bed, going over the heated discussion during their drive.
If she could strip the yellow-eyed demon of his powers, could she destroy him as well? What had the demon shown her? Did it have something to do with him and Dean? His thoughts ran around and around creating more questions. He finally fell asleep when the questions ran back around on themselves.
She had finished her third beer and was looking for a fourth. Unfortunately, the fridge was now empty.
"Beer run. Wanna go?" Alyssa grabbed her jacket heading for the door.
"You do know even after your completely wasted, it's all still going to be here when you sober up," he wanted to join her, but one of them needed to keep a clear head.
"Take that as a no, then?" She left the room ignoring his last remark. The cool, spring air hit her, momentarily bringing her back to her senses.
'What are you doing?' she heard that inner voice she had come to know and hate.
Her own voice answered, "Getting wasted."
'Tell him about all of it. Let him know the truth.'
She had listened to this voice over the many years, and it had never steered her wrong. It had kept her alive, kept others alive, and guided her to people who needed her or who could help her. It had brought her to Dean and Sam. Like Pinocchio's Jiminy Cricket, her conscience was always with her, like an old friend, but now, it seemed to have turned against her.
"Leave me alone."
'Why? So you can drown yourself in booze? Are you that disturbed you can't see he's right there waiting for you? Go talk to him.'
Her eyes betrayed her self-control, widening with disbelief.
'I'm talking to a voice in my head. Of course, I'm disturbed. They know too much already. No more. Now go away.'
The corner gas station had a mini-mart and offered her many choices of alcoholic beverages. Beer was okay, but this particular day required something stronger. She paid for her bottle and headed back to the motel. The voice had thankfully given up, for now.
Dean was about to go looking for Alyssa when she barged through the door, a bag in hand.
"What's in the bag, Alyssa?" he could tell from the size and shape it wasn't beer.
"Jack and I go way back. He's a close friend," she pulled out the bottle of whiskey and set it on the table.
'Damn, she thought, no shot glasses. Oh, well.'
She opened the top and took a swig. The whiskey burned its way down her throat, coating her stomach, warming her instantly, and working its way into her arms and legs.
"I'll take that," Dean snatched the bottle from her, capping it closed.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" she narrowed her eyes. A fight? She was certainly up for that.
"When did you start hitting the hard stuff?" he suddenly felt older, much older.
"What business of it is yours? I'm old enough to drink, Dean. Now give it back!" She stood up to him, toe-to-toe, but since he was taller by at least six inches, eye-to-eye was a little harder.
This was too much like watching Dad drink himself unconscious. He hated seeing his father weak and helpless, and he certainly wasn't going to stand by and watch Alyssa do the same thing.
He saw the anger flash across her face, darkening her eyes. Again, the feelings he thought didn't exist anymore began to resurface. She was absolutely stunning when she was pissed off.
"Dean, I'm warning you. This is not a good time to screw with me."
"Forget it. I'm not watching this." He raised the bottle high out of her reach.
"Then go away. There's another room. Go baby-sit your brother." She reached for the bottle, missing it by a hair. Her anger was rising, and once it peaked, there was no stopping it. "Give me the bottle, now." Her voice was low and menacing.
'If you can't beat 'em, join 'em?' Dean twisted off the cap and took a long swallow of the whiskey. It felt good going down.
"What are you doing? That's mine, bought and paid for." Oh, if he thought he was just going to one-up her on the pity party, forget it!
"Beer was bought and paid for by me and Sam. You owe us a couple of bottles," he took another drink. The whiskey was doing its job, warming him up considerably.
"Money's on the table. Take it," she reached for the bottle again, but lost her balance. Apparently the beer and whiskey she had consumed had just met. Her hand landed on his chest, stopping her fall.
Her touch sent a wave of heat washing over him again working together with the whiskey, sending his head spinning. He caught her as she stumbled, his arm around her waist, the bottle hidden behind his back.
'His eyes, damn his eyes,' she thought as she tried to remain angry with him. Her body might not be cooperating, but her mind was just as sharp and clear as ever, at least for now. She could feel the muscles moving beneath his shirt as he stopped her from falling. She moved closer to him, her hand sliding across his chest to embrace him. Her eyes never left his. Her lips were but a breath away from his. She could feel the heat emanating from his body.
Just one movement and her lips were his, but not one of his muscles wanted to obey him. He felt paralyzed by the heat in her eyes. Could he risk letting her in again? What would it mean if he did?
"Dean," her voice was thick with lust.
"Yeah," he choked out, her breath warm against his face.
"Thank you," she pulled back abruptly with the bottle in her hand.
He had to stop and think about what had just happened. Damn, she's good, he thought.
Would he have taken that next step with her? Could he put the past behind him? He watched her sit down in the chair, prop her bare feet on the windowsill, and stare out into the world beyond this room.
Where was the carefree, wild teenager he had met over a decade ago. What had happened to her to create this hardened, seasoned hunter? He'd seen his fair share of hell on earth so he knew how much he and Sam had changed, but what could have driven her to this point? He sat at the table with her to wait out her self-destructive alcoholic consumption.
About an hour later and halfway through the bottle of Jack Daniels, Alyssa decided she'd had enough. She placed the bottle on the table and attempted to get up, but of course, her legs had fallen asleep. She caught the edge of the chair as she tried to walk. She was drunk; she knew it, but she didn't care.
Dean could see Alyssa was right where she wanted to be, numb. She simply didn't want to feel anymore. He understood that need more than she would probably ever know. He jumped up to help her to the bed, since that seemed to be where she was headed.
She felt his arms around her. Just for a moment, she could feel the overwhelming need to fall into him and never get up. The feeling was fleeting as the images of her dead suitors flashed across her intoxicated mind.
"No, don't. I got it," she slurred, pushing him away and very carefully making her way to the bed. She curled up into a pillow and let the tears come, silent and hidden; for her weakness was something she shared with no one. She succumbed to the sweet oblivion offered by the alcohol raging through her system.
Dean could only watch as Alyssa staggered her way to the bed. At least he didn't have to pick her up off the floor like he'd done with Dad so many times.
What could be hidden so deep within her that could tear her up this bad?
He'd seen Sam deal with his anger and emotions with alcohol. The promise Sam forced him to make that night still pierced his soul. He rubbed it away, concentrating on Alyssa's body sleeping on the bed. He couldn't see her crying, but he heard it in her breathing. Sam used to sound the same when he had cried himself to sleep as a child.
He caught sight of her leather bag slung across the back of the chair. In the sketchbook were images that could tell him what she had been through. It would be like looking into her diary to find out her innermost secrets, but this wasn't some teenage romance he was sneaking in on. This was her life, her future, and their mission on the line. Dean rummaged through the bag and found the book of visions. He sat back in the chair, glancing once at Alyssa's unconscious form, and flipped through the pages, hoping to find some clue as to who she had become and how.
