Chapter Four

I feel as if I'm tumbling head-over-heels into a pit of everlasting darkness. I know it's a dream because I'm seeing everything from a bystander's perspective. It's almost as if my life was made into a movie and I was watching it at the theater in 3D.

The movie plays out like this:

A young family of three walks through a park in the early winter. Snow lightly coats the brown grass. The woman, a fair-haired blonde, heavily pregnant, strolls hand-in-hand with her tall, dark-haired husband. They watch their almost two-year-old son running faster than he probably should, ahead of them. He, of course, trips, landing face first in the snow. He has a hard time rolling over with his big coat. You can hear the little boy wail. The parents look to one another, exchange a small smile, and the father runs after his son. The mother follows behind at a slower pace.

"Dean," the man says as he picks the small child up out of the snow and sets him on his feet, "You've gotta be more careful, buddy!"

Dean sniffles a little bit, but after a reassuring hug from Daddy he's all better, and continues running through the park. The man's sighs and turns towards his wife who has just caught up to him. She caresses his cheek, and laces her arms around his neck.

"John, honey," she says sweetly, "You should know better than anybody: Boys will be boys."

They both smile. He kisses her lips while simultaneously placing a gentle hand on her swollen belly0

.

"I love you, Mary," he whispers, and kisses her again. And off they go, chasing after their rambunctious toddler.

Someone hits the fast-forward button on the movie. The young woman delivers her second baby: A little girl. The name written on the birth certificate is Alexis Victoria Winchester. That's my name-except for the "Winchester" part obviously.

The baby is me.

Mary is my mother.

John is my father.

My heart quivers at this realization, and I can feel the tears welling up in my eyes. My whole life, up until this point, has been a lie. My parents aren't my parents. The tears start coming, and I feel weak. I never let myself cry, but the tears won't stop.

They bring me home and introduce me to my older brother, Dean. He's both intrigued and elated by me. Dean sits down on the couch, our parents on either side of him, and they lay me in his lap. He smiles and strokes what little hair I have.

"Dean," John gets his attention, "You've got a little sister to protect now, y'know?"

He looks from me to John, and in as serious a tone as a two-year-old can manage he asserts, "I'll never let anything happen to her, Daddy."

The movie is fast-forwarded again. I watch myself transform from a tiny infant into a hyperactive toddler. My older brother's almost always by my side. I affectionately nickname him "Bubba" and everyone calls me Lexi. I'm a daddy's girl through and through. Whenever he's at work I'm stuck to Dean, but when he comes home I'm all over him.

Sometime after Dean's fourth birthday and my second, John and Mary bring home a new baby which they introduce to us as Sammy. They say he's our new baby brother. At the time I didn't really know what that meant. Dean and I try to incorporate him in our games, but he wasn't any fun. He doesn't get up and play and he cries at the slightest provocation. Eventually we quit bothering with him and just stick to each other while our mother tends to his needs.

Dean and I share a bedroom, and if I get scared at night I crawl into bed with him. One night, not long after Sammy was brought home, Dean shook me awake. The air was thick and it made me choke. Dean grabs my hand and leads me out into the hall, which is hotter and brighter than usual, it scares us both.

Sammy's nursery was right across the hall: Our father barrels out of it with a bundle in his arms. He spots Dean and me. He places Sammy in Dean's arms, forcing him to let go of my hand.

"Take your brother and sister outside as fast as you can- don't look back. Now, Dean! Go!"

Dean took off down the stairs, I didn't know what to do so I just followed behind him as fast as my tiny legs could manage. I hear the explosion, and our father manages to pick all three of us up, and run from the burning house.

"Where's Mommy?" my innocent two-year-old self asks.

My father looks to me and his mouth drops open, but the movie freezes. You can see the glow of the fire against our faces, and the look of despair across my father's.

Everything goes black for a moment, but then I am me, and I'm standing in some vague location. I can't make out any features of this place. It's very gray, and has almost a foggy look to it.

Suddenly a man appears in front of me, it takes me a minute to realize it's the angel, Castiel, my brain is still scrambled from everything I just witnessed.

"That's all you need to know," he declares, "I trust you will keep this meeting just between the two of us."

"What happens after the fire?" I demand, but I'm speaking to no one because he doesn't wait for me to finish my question before disappearing, "Castiel you son-of-a-bitch!" I scream to the open air.

I fall to my knees and sob. Why couldn't he just leave well enough alone? I didn't need to see all those terrible things. And now I don't even know how it all ends. Deep down I know why he showed that to me, he wants me to cooperate.

Everything goes black again, but now I can feel my every limb. The bed is uncomfortable and the metal is hardly cushioned by the thin mattress. I had barely come to, eyes still closed, when I hear the loud groan of the heavy iron door being opened, followed by a distant, yet familiar, female voice,

"Who'd you say you got down here, Uncle Bobby?"

I could tell they hadn't stepped into the room.

"Her names Alexis Winchester," replied Bobby.

"Winchester, 'eh? What's her relation to the boys?" She asks.

I open my eyes to a painfully bright light and quickly turn my head to face the exit. The girl's back was to me, and Bobby wasn't paying me any mind.

"Yeah, she's their sister," the way he talked to her was completely different from the way he did to Sam and Dean. His voice was softer.

They went on long enough for me to compose myself and to sit upright. I expected to be chained to the bed or restrained in some fashion, and was pleasantly surprised I wasn't.

Bobby noticed my wakefulness, as I stood up, and looked my way.

"Actually, the names Collins," I state, completely disregarding everything I just learned.

As if on cue Bobby's niece turns around, her eyes lock on mine, and at once I realize why her voice sounded so familiar.

I scream.

She screams.

Then we run at each other.