THINGS I OWN: the storyline, Chase, Kisten, Chris, Lilly, and all hospital staff/paraphernalia.

THINGS I DON'T OWN: Supernatural, Dean, Sam, Her.

Hmm, interesting.

Thank you all so much for all the feedback! I love getting it (although I haven't been getting much of anything due to the fact that this site is slowly breaking down! Argh!)! Hope you all keep reading and liking!

She never could say the right thing. So, as they phrase went, for the next few hours, she didn't say anything at all. Through x-rays, CAT scans, numerous blood samples, and millions of doctors fingering the thin scar on her side where a five inch deep gash used to be, Chase was silent. Questions such as 'what happened' and 'who did this' were met with a shrug or a shake of her head. All she wanted was home. The trees, the small river, even the deep hole in her back yard begged her presence.

"I don't see anything wrong with you, Chastity," Dr. Parke said after the last test. "You certainly have someone watching out for you."

Chase gave a slight smile and stared out the dirty window.

"I'll send a nurse in to remove everything, and if you're doing alright in a day or two I don't see a reason you can't leave."

She nodded her thanks, and continued watching the sunlight play on the glass. With a final flourish on her chart, the doctor strode out of the room only to be replaced with a stick-thin nurse. The woman seemed to respect Chase's need for silence, and the only words spoken was the warning of slight and momentary pain.

As soon as the nurse had left, Chase began planning her immediate escape. There was no way she was staying here another day or two. For that reason, the moment the day nurses went home and were replaced by the sullen night crowd, Chase quietly slipped out of her bed, crept out the door and down the hall, and exited the hospital through a side door that would only open if she hit directly in the center of the peeling paint. With her first breath of fresh air, a true smile replace the tight line her lips had assumed during the day, and, after another few gulps of air, a thin wolf with muted black fur set off in the direction of Little River.

X

She could smell the river before she could see the house, and that was saying something considering the river was a few miles away while her house was only a few more paces. There was also three more familiar scents mingling with the breeze. A frown tugged at the corners of her mouth. With a graceful ease, the wolf morphed into a girl, and Chase scaled the front steps that led into the immaculate front room.

"Chris is freaking out," a tall blonde greeted her.

"Nice to see you too, Lilly," Chase muttered plopping down beside her on the clean, white couch.

"Why do you smell like rubbing alcohol?" Lilly wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Long story," She settled back into the cushions. "Why is Chris freaking out?"

"Someone broke into our house last night," she examined her manicured nails, "but nothing was stolen except a few vials of GS. I told him it was probably just a junkie of some kind looking for a quick fix." Her laugh sounded like a high-pitched growl, "Imagine the shock to a system when it gets a taste of that!"

"Is she alright?" Chase asked nervously.

Lilly's ocher eyes caught hers. "Yes," she said with a tight-lipped frown, "She's freaked out, though. I couldn't get much, just incoherency about some guy. Apparently, whoever was stupid enough to break in was stupid enough to go into her room. Chris is upstairs with her now."

"No, I'm not." The deep voice preceded the arrival of a muscular man. His dark skin and even darker eyes reflected the morning sun that shone through the windows. "She's going to be alright, Chase."

"Good," she breathed a tired sigh of relief. "Where's Kisten?"

"Bar," Chris and Lilly said in unison.

"Great," she sighed again.

"What's wrong?" Lilly asked.

Chase eyed the two. She had known them for about four months now. They had decided to come back to the states with her after she left France. Between the two of them, Chase, and Kisten, three of the oldest loup-garou bloodlines were kept within the American boarders. "We've got to leave."

"The house?" Chris asked.

"The state, preferably." Chase bit her bottom lip. "I kind of had a little run in while I was hunting."

"You've been hunting for three days, what could you have possibly gotten into?" Lilly asked. "Usually it takes you a week."

"It only took one day, Lills." She took a deep breath, "I've been in the hospital for the last two days."

"What?!" Chris exclaimed. "What the hell were you doing in a hospital."

"It's kind of a long story…"

X

"So they just assume it was us?" Lilly threw her arms up, "They don't even give you a chance to explain? And here I thought they were nice, kind, non-mob forming."

"Something's taking their kids, you can't blame them for being a little paranoid."

"But I can blame them for almost killing you!" Lilly clenched her fist, "I swear the second I get one of them alone!" She hit Chris for good measure.

Ignoring her, Chris asked, "So the guy who broke in did it to save you?"

"Yeah, he's a friend from way back."

"And this friend," Chris pointed above him, "is her-"

"Right. Although they probably know each other a little better than we do."

All three gazed at the ceiling. "Are you going to tell her?" Lilly asked quietly.

Chase shrugged. "I don't know."

"Hmm," Lilly mused, "I guess we should start planning our next residence.

Smiling her thanks, Chase replied, "If you guys want to."

"Of course, We're better as a pack." Lilly reached under the couch and pulled out a big map. "Come on Chris, pick a number."

Chase laughed and slowly inched out the back door. God, she loved those two.

On her way to the only bar in town, Chase saw Dean's black impala parked in front of a cheap motel. I should go apologize, she thought biting her bottom lip. I don't want him mad at me.

XxXxX

Sam leaned back against the headboard of the rock hard bed. There was nothing on the three channeled television, so it was currently stuck on a random game show. They contestants weren't speaking English, but Sam had no clue what they were speaking. For some reason, it was highly addicting…

"I'm going out." Dean stormed past him, leather jacket pulled tight.

"Where?"

"Bar down the street." He turned around and winked, "Don't wait up."

"Never do," Sam muttered as the door slammed. He vaguely wondered why Dean did it. Why it was so important to find some girl -any girl- willing to crawl into whatever bed available with? Sam shook his head. Some things were better left unasked. Turning back to the television, he quickly became enrapt in whatever the guy in the orange shirt was telling the host.

Ten minutes into the show, there was a quiet knock on the door. Sam almost thought he had imagined it, but, seconds later, it came again. He shut off the TV and cautiously made his way to the door. Making sure a gun was within reach, Sam opened the door just enough to see out.

"Hope you have your silver ready," the visitor joked half-heartedly, "because those iron rounds won't do a thing to me."

"Chase!" Sam was genuinely surprised. "I thought you'd be home by now."

"Yeah, well," she walked inside and perched on the edge of one of the beds, "Been there, got bored."

"Dean's not here. He went…out." Sam caught himself. No use telling her he was about to go screw anything dumb enough to let him.

"I thought as much. No bar can hold against Dean Winchester." She laughed. It was a low, almost feral, sound that came from deep in her throat. It was all to obvious that Chase had thoroughly changed since they last saw her.

Sam tried to laugh with her, "I guess not."

"So he won't be back for awhile then, I assume." Chase straightened her legs.

"I doubt it," Sam hesitated slightly, "But you're welcome to wait if you want to." He lied a little. He didn't really want her to.

"No," she glanced at the scuffed toe of her black boot, "I'd actually like to talk to you."

"About what?" Sam sat down in a hard backed chair across from her. What could they possibly have to discuss?

"I know what you did for her," Chase stated quietly, "And I just wanted you to know that it's working out. That you don't have to worry."

"What I did for who?" Sam asked.

Chase wound a strand of straightened, mahogany hair around her index finger, " Madison."

Choking at the name, Sam jumped up. "I killed her."

"Did you?" Chase asked rhetorically, "Because I would have sworn she was alive and thriving back in South Carolina."

"She's dead, Chase." He crossed his arms.

"I'm not going to tell Dean, if that's what you're worried about."

Sam regarded her suspiciously, "You're not?"

"Of course not. Why would I?"

He watched her a second longer before dropping his defenses. "So she's alright?"

"Yeah. It sounded like Desiree had a time figuring her out, though." Chase grinned a little. She loosely reminded him of the Mona Lisa. They two women shared the same smile.

Sam sat back down. "Why?"

"Apparently, little miss werewolf didn't want to were when the moon was full."

"I don't get it."

" Madison has this odd ability to change at will. And now that she's had a little guidance from the pack, she can fully change. According to Desiree she makes a good wolf."

Sam smiled. She was okay. He had done the right thing. Everything had worked out. "So she's like you?"

"So it seems." Chase said going back to examining her shoes. "It's odd, though. Being changed by a loup-garou is incredibly rare. It's not in our nature to leave witnesses. It's also not in the witnesses nature to want to live."

"I don't get it," Sam leaned forward a little.

"It's one hell of a transformation. Internal organs shift and change, your external appearance alters enough to hurt. In short, the switch is not pleasant."

"But she's okay? I could go see her? She's alright?" Sam began pacing around the room. It was too good to believe. Way too good.

"She's fine, but," Chase hesitated, "she wouldn't agree to see you."

"Why?" A wrench was suddenly thrown into his finely orchestrated plan.

"You can't imagine the blood lust that comes with this. A newbie has a tough time. If you so much as let a drop of blood fall from your pricked finger you'd be devoured faster than you could chug a glass of milk." Chase laughed, "Another funny analogy."

Sam's frown pulled the rest of his features down white it. "But she's okay?"

"Perfectly fine." Chase stood. "I just wanted you to know. You did the right thing."

"Thank you," Sam said as she shut the door behind her. "Thank you."