Chapter Three

A's POV

I'll admit it was a bold move talking about my mother like that. I suppose alcohol doesn't make me give away the juicy details. However, Long Island Iced Tea will make me do almost anything.

I take a drink of my tea, tossing the little red umbrella into the growing pile I had on the table. Dean looks at me wide-eyed.

"You can sure put 'em down, A." He says in a surprised tone.

I giggle. "Didn't you hear anything I said about my childhood? If you can't repress it, drink it away." I raise my glass before taking in another long drink.

Dean's eyebrow goes up and he mutters, "I guess that's one way to look at it."

"Listen, Dean." The room around me spins a little. Sam puts his hand on my shoulder.

"Maybe you've had enough, Allison. Certainly too much to drive."

"Oh no!" I moan.

The boys look at me with curious eyes as I put my head in my hands.

"I told the manager that I didn't need my room anymore! Looks like I'm sleepin' in my truck tonight, boys! Let's hope there isn't anything scary in these parts." I giggle again, sipping my tea and honestly feeling pretty good about myself.

"You don't have to do that, Allison. You can sleep in my bed. I'll take the recliner." Sam smiled softly at me before looking down at the table and then taking a shot of Jack.

"Really, Sammy, you'd do that? That's so sweet!" I grab a full shot glass sitting in front of him and tip an invisible hat on my head before downing it.

Dean smiles like a child that's been given a new bicycle. "Awesome."

At some point we must have left the bar. We pull into the nearly empty hotel parking lot quietly. My head is resting on something hard, maybe a car window or door. I squint my eyes to see better, giving up when I realize it isn't working. Why did I have so much to drink?

You're an alcoholic. I whisper internally. I sigh, knowing there is some truth to the words.

My head moves, not by my doing. I realize we've stopped and they must have thought I was asleep. Am I asleep? Either way, I'm moving.

"I can carry her, dude." Someone says in a hushed tone.

"Dean, stop trying to get in her pants. She's a hunter and obviously not interested." Sam is close. His voice is kind of muffled. He's carrying me.

The rocking motion of his walk makes my stomach turn. I wait until I hear the door open and close before I more. I twist in his grasp, flipping out of his arms and landing quietly on my feet. Stumbling my way to the bathroom and shutting the door, I lean over the toilet and wait for the vomit to make it's way up. I lay my head on my hand, room spinning around me, and drool into the porcelain bowl.

God, I'm attractive. I think sarcastically.

There's a knock at the door. "A, are you alright in there?" Dean asks softly.

"Mmhmm, I'll be out in a second." The knot in my stomach loosens, allowing me to stand and look at myself in the mirror. Hair is coming loose from my up-do, my eyes are dark and my clothes are ruffled. I'm a hot fucking mess.

Hot. I wipe my hand across my forehead, catching a few drops of sweat. Literally, hot. I fan myself with my hand.

"Sam brought in your suitcase from your truck. You really shouldn't leave the window down like that. Do you need your toothbrush or something?"

"Can you hand me my robe, please?" I murmur, stripping off my jean shorts and my skin tight top. Looking myself over in the mirror, I realize I can't leave my mark so exposed. I reach into the pocket of my shorts, pulling out a thick-banded bracelet and tightening it onto my right wrist.

They can't see.

Another knock on the door. "Here you go."

I crack it open and a rough hand slides inside, clutching white silk. I take my robe and shut the door back, sliding it on over my black bra and panties. Tying it tightly, I stumble out of the bathroom and right into Dean's chest.

"Weren't trying to spy on me, were you?" I jokingly accuse as he grabs my arms to steady me.

He scoffs. "I wasn't s-spying."

I giggle, pulling out of his grasp and plopping down onto the chair. Sam perches on the edge of his bed, nearest to the bathroom. My suitcase is on the floor at the foot of it.

"When would you like to sleep?" He questions.

"Here's f-fine." I mumble, yawning and curling into the chair.

I hear talking, maybe to me, but my mind is slowly drifting. I feel warm all over and smile sweetly. "Thanks, boys." My words are so slurred I'm not sure they understand. For the first time in a long time I feel safe as I drift to sleep.

"S-Sam?" I stutter quietly, crawling through pieces of broken metal and splinters of glass to get to the unmoving body on the other side of the warehouse. My broken leg is heavy behind me. I press on, determined to make it over to him.

"Sam!" I shout, louder, clearer.

No movement.

I whimper, trying to crawl faster. I reach him in several seconds, pulling myself up to look at him. The first thing I notice is his open shirt, the gauging and the blood. Then I notice his face. His jaw slack, his forehead bleeding, his eyes dull and lifeless.

A high-pitched scream echoes off the walls. I'm surprised to realize it's mine. Sobs escape my throat as tears pour down my face. I pull at his arms, his lips, kissing his cheek.

"Sam! Sam please, no, no, NO!"

Footsteps approach. I turn around and see a pair of smiling yellow eyes.

They sneer at me. "You should have told him sooner, darling."

I wake up with a jolt, not quite to the point of screaming yet. The rooms turns, the ceiling moving closer to the wall. Gotta love that alcohol.

Whatever I'm laying on is very uncomfortable so I stretch out my legs and stumble to the bathroom to pee. It's dark, I almost run into the wall but catch myself on the door frame. I try to look through my hazy memory for how I got drunk and still managed to come back to my hotel room. When did I even drink?

I use the bathroom dizzily, then make my way back to the room. I spot my suitcase on the floor and decided to slip off my robe, tossing it on top of the luggage. The room spins again as I climb into my bed. Maybe I'll remember in the morning... I yawn. I'm grateful that unconsciousness seems to envelope me quickly this time. Briefly, before I slip under, I think I hear snoring.