AnnaBeth covered her ears as the old haunted house was filled with shrieks that could have broken the windows, were there any. Bending double and covering her ears, she attempted to look up from under her hair at the source of the screams. A large woman, in a bonnet and blood stained dress stood before her, loading an old revolver with .22 bullets. While AnnaBeth knew she couldn't be shot by a ghost, part of her panicked at the sight. She crawled to her duffle bag and began rummaging for the lighter fluid she had stowed away inside. Before she could pull it out, a loud snap, followed by a sharp pain ripping through her side, caused her to fall to the ground, coughing and groaning. She had been shot. Holy hell…she had…been shot. How could a ghost fire a gun? She knew that ghosts could move objects, and make noises, but not fire weapons. The thought was puzzling, but at this point, she didn't know, and she didn't really care how it happened. If she didn't hurry, she could die, defeating the whole purpose of being here.

Standing, with some effort, AnnaBeth grabbed her duffel bag and limped over to the kitchen, slamming the large oak framed door behind her. As she collapsed to the ground, she pulled a small gold band from her jacket pocket, laying it on the ground and coughing a bit. The room was beginning to spin and everything she touched became drenched in blood. Reaching into the bag once more, she pinched some salt that had gathered on the bottom, attempting to keep it from sticking to her fingers and grabbed the lighter fluid. Her heart pounded faster and faster, the longer she bled on the floor, and she could feel her consciousness leaving her. The screeching started up again, just as she was beginning to flick the old zippo lighter.

"Come on, you son of a bitch…LIGHT!", she screamed in a raspy attempt at anger, as the fire rose from the lighter and the ring went up in a blaze. The screech continued, until AnnaBeth assumed that the ghost was long gone, as silence ensued. She gave into her need of rest, and collapsed on the floor, her face slamming into the tile below her. In the haze of unconsciousness, he could see a pair of boots padding towards her. They were large, and belonged to a man. She was turned over, onto her back, and a pair of strong arms pushed underneath her, lifting her from the ground.

"Hey…stay with me. Look at me. You're ok. You're going to be fine…You're going to be…", a familiar voice cooed to her. The voice was colder than she remembered, but it was definitely familiar. Letting a few painful tears roll down her cheek, she smiled, focusing her eyes on the face above her. His head was encircled in a halo, from the lights that passed over him as he opened the door and ran out. The shaking of his movements made AnnaBeth want to scream out in agony, but instead, she smiled.

"Sam?...", she whispered, as they were blasted onto the grass. The house went up in a tall inferno, catching the trees and random shrubs around it on fire. The blast had blown herself and her savior into the gravel of the driveway, and she was out.

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Waking up was hell. AnnaBeth looked around, blinking the blindness of the dark from her eyes, the best she could. It took her several moments to realize that she was at home, in bed. She performed her usual ritual of patting the bed beside her. As per usual, nothing was there. Sighing, she assumed the whole battle had been a dream. There was no crazy, homicidal ghost. There was no fire, or gunshot. There was no Sam. However, she was proven wrong, relatively quick. While sitting up to head to the bathroom, the gunshot wound shifted, and a few stitches ripped, causing her to moan loudly into the darkness.

What? How could that be? That meant…Holy shit. AnnaBeth tore from the bed, as fast as her feet would carry her, running to the bathroom and flipping on the light. As she lifted her blood stained tank top, her breath caught in her throat. It was real. It was all real. Sam…the blast…the gunshot…SAM!

She had to go back. Some dumb idea inside her brain, was telling her to return to the house. Maybe Sam would show back up. Maybe, just maybe he was fine. Then again…maybe he was just haunting the house. Either way, she was going back. She threw the shower curtain back, bending with effort, and turned the shower head on. Before letting the water warm up, she stepped inside, and began washing her fiery locks. The adrenaline rushing through her almost caused her to forget that she was in an immense amount of pain. In fact, in all the excitement, she had opened the wound. The water at her feet glowed orange in the dim light of the bathroom.

"Shit…", she gasped, touching the inflamed wound. This wasn't the worst pain she had endured, but it was the most annoying. In her head, she wished Cas was here. Cas could patch this thing up with a touch, and she would be on her way. Sighing, she grabbed her towel from the curtain rod, and wrapped it around her, stepping out of the tub.

"Hello, AnnaBeth…", came Castiel's voice, ripping through the pleasant silence of the bathroom. AnnaBeth screamed, jumping back from the Angel and almost falling back into the tub.

"Castiel! What the hell are you doing here?", she shrieked, pulling the towel tighter around her in an attempt at protection. Cas turned quickly towards the door, embarrassed and ashamed.

"I am sorry to have shown up in such a…an inappropriate place. I heard your call…", he said in a rather ashamed voice.

"I didn't…I didn't call you! Why would I?", AnnaBeth yelled again, stepping up to the sink and running her hand across the mirror.

"You said…you wished I was here. You wanted me to help you with your…wound."

"Oh..well, that would be pleasant.", AnnaBeth said in a hushed tone. She WAS thankful he was here. She just wasn't thankful he showed up just in time to stop her from returning to the house.

Castiel turned around, reluctantly, and stepped up behind her. His breath on her neck was warm and pleasant. The smell radiating off of his jacket, smelled a lot like Dean. Of course it did. Dean had taught him everything he knew about being human. AnnaBeth sighed at the closeness, and shook all the thoughts that were filling her head and apparently making Castiel feel uncomfortable, by the look on his face. He pulled his sleeve up, slightly, and reached around her neck to her forehead. With a touch, the pain and blood disappeared from her side, and she was as good as new.

"There. You will be fine…and I should go…", Castiel said in an uncomfortable voice. AnnaBeth lowered her eyes to the counter, no longer feeling the need to go to the house. Right now, she felt the need to sleep. Had Cas placed ideas into her head? At the moment, she felt too tired to care, but she couldn't let him leave. Not now.

"Please stay. I don't want to be alone, right now. I think…I think I'm tired of being alone.", AnnaBeth whispered, turning and grabbing his pinky. Castiel looked down at his shoes, and nodded, before opening the door.

"Alright…", he mumbled, walking out of the bathroom, "…I will stay until you fall asleep."

AnnaBeth smiled a little, brushing her wet hair behind her ears, "Thanks, Cas."

(I hope everyone likes this chapter. It didn't turn out quite as I had hoped it would, but I like it. I wanted to show AnnaBeth changing, because of the hope that Sam was alive. REVIEW AND ENJOY!)