One year later

I woke up with a monstrous headache. Which figured, considering that it had been a monster who gave me that beat to the head. For ten years I had left them alone and they had left me alone. Until now. Either it was Friday the 13th, and I was just unlucky, or there was more to it.

I refused believing that my past had had a change of heart and decided to haunt me anyhow, so I made myself believe that I was just a random victim. Then again, vampires don't normally take victims – they just kill.

'Awesome. Just great.'

I opened my eyes and found myself tied to a pillar in a place that looked like an abandoned old train station. A dark, creepy and cold abandoned train station.

"What do you want with me?" I called out to nobody in particular.

"Throw you into the game," A voice rasped directly into my ear.

I jumped and tried to wrench away, which, of course, was not quite as successful as it would have been had I not been tied up.

"You're a scrumptious one."

Great. Not only had I been kidnapped by an insane vampire, but by a perverted insane vampire.

Must be the deluxe edition of Friday the 13th.

Finally the vampire stepped into the ever so dim light, and I could make out his rough features. The most prominent one being his extended fangs.

"Why? What do you mean by 'throwing me into the game'?"

The vampire looked me up and down slowly, as if he could read the answer on my skin. While waiting for him to either answer or attack me, I fiddled with the rope around my wrists. It's been ten years since I had last hunted, but it came to me surprisingly easy, so it took me only a few minutes to be free. I remained seated, though – no need to let the vampire know about my unknown advantage. My eyes searched the place for a suitable weapon.

"It's not so much your hunter's past that makes you interesting," the vampire finally spoke, "but rather your connection with the Winchesters."

I huffed, "You ought to get your sources straight, man. The Winchesters can bite me ten ways from Sunday."

Sam Winchester, anyways.

Besides, what did a vampire want with the Winchester brothers, anyways?

"Maybe," The vampire shrugged, unimpressed. "I know that it's been a while since you've last seen Sam Winchester, and even longer that you've seen your family…"

"What the hell has my family got to do with this?" Anger surged up in me, white, hot and blinding, along with raging hatred. My feelings for Sam were friendly compared to what I felt towards my family.

The vampire smiled, his eyes glowing dangerously and maliciously as he did so. "Ah, you really do hate them, don't you?"

I didn't answer. I averted my eyes and finally found what I'd been looking for: a blade, hidden under rocks and pebbles somewhere in the dark. Seems I wasn't the first hunter to have the pleasure of being here.

"I can hear your heart beat furiously against your chest. It's not fear, you haven't shown any sign of that ever since we brought you here… but it's your hatred for your family."

"Where am I, on Freud's couch? Get to the point."

"Quite a belligerent girl you are."

"And while you're explaining to me why you brought me here, why not enlighten me on how you know Sam Winchester?"

"Oh, you didn't know?"

"Know what, bloodsucker?" I spat. I was so done with his arrogant games. He had one more chance of explaining, then I'd jump for the blade.

"The Sammy Winchester you know, or at least, believed to know is nothing but a hunter. Quite a dark history, too."

My lips parted in surprise. Sam, a hunter? No way.

On the other hand… it fit. It fit more than it should.

I decided I could worry about all of that later, once I got out of here alive and preferably in one piece, too. I lunged for the weapon, the same second the vampire jumped forwards and landed on top of me. I kicked him off of me, feeling familiar strength ripple through my muscles. I got up, blade swinging in my hand.

A sense of power sweetly surged through my body. It was exactly this dangerous thrill that got me to stop hunting in the first place; it was too easy to fall prey to it. I was a stranger to empathy and sympathy the second I held a weapon in my hand.

The vampire's head fell to the floor with a muffled thud.

I pended somewhere between dead calm and disgusted excitement.

Noise from somewhere near interrupted my train of thought, and I clenched my fist around the blade's handle, despite having loved nothing better but to fling it away as far as possible.

Another vampire jumped right in front of me, barely giving me enough time to realize his presence. I hit the ground the same second steps echoed through the huge hall and people appeared in the doorway to my left.

"Rachel!"

Good, Sam was next on my list of who to behead.

The vampire hissed, exposing his eewy fangs. I mean, seriously, nasty. I reached for the weapon, closed my fingers around it and beheaded the vampire with a practised sweep of the blade. I raised a hand to wipe the blood from my cheek as I sat up.

Sam's tall figure appeared next to me. I let him pull me up and inspect the scratches on my face.

"You okay?"

"Peachy, Sam, just peachy," I hissed, then did something rather untypical of me: I slapped him. "What the hell, Sam?"

"Guess I deserved that," he dryly stated.

"Oh, Sam, believe me, if you got what you really deserved, you wouldn't get out of here alive."

"Rachel…"

"Save it," I spat and pushed him away from me. "I'm out of here. Have a nice life."

I stopped in my tracks when I found the exit blocked by three other men. One older guy, and two that looked to be somewhere in their thirties.

"Let me guess, you're Dean," I said looking at the handsome hunk.

"I am. How'd you…?"

"Same eyes," I shrugged with a nod in Sam's direction. "Now excuse me, I've got a life to live, and it ain't in some shady rundown factory building or whatever the hell this is."

Dean's lips moved in a way that could almost be interpreted as a smile.

I was just about to continue my way out before they could ask any questions, or before I would be tempted to look at Sam again, when a horribly cold voice sounded from the gallery. "You know, it's funny."

All five of us looked up and saw a black man leaning on the railing contemplatively. His stare was directed at me.

"What's funny?" Dean demanded.

"Most people's first instinct when they find out they're confronting a vampire would be reaching for a stake. Or a cross, maybe…" He trailed his long fingernails over the marble stone as he ambled along the gallery. Abruptly, he stopped and looked at me with a knowing smile. "But not you. The way you beheaded those two was almost…professional."

I rather felt than saw Sam's head snap around and his eyes on me, almost burning my skin in their glaring intensity.

"Rachel…"

Even if I had had the intention of explaining myself, I wouldn't have gotten the chance to, as the vampire suddenly disappeared.

And my family appeared in his place.

"Where'd he go?" My father roared.

I closed my eyes.

This was so much worse than any Friday 13th could have been. This, I had to realize, wasn't random chance… there was a nasty plan behind everything happening tonight. I just didn't know what.

"What the hell's going on with vamps lately? They shouldn't have this kind of mojo." That was my dearest brother, Hayden. Oh, how I wanted to slit his throat.

"What the…" Dean started, and exchanged a glance with Sam, who shrugged barely noticeable and looked at the old man with them.

My family hadn't noticed us yet, a status I would have liked to preserve.

Naturally, on days like these, you don't get lucky all of a sudden.

My mother noticed me first. Old wounds were ripped open as her ice-cold stare shot through me with more force than a bullet could have; all the times she bossed me around, all the times she looked at me as if I were a disgrace.

"I'm out of here," I pressed out and turned towards the door.

"Rachel Serena Black, you don't take another step."

Defiantly, I took exactly two more steps before I turned around and glared at my mother standing up there on the gallery. "Wow, you remember my name, I'm impressed. Thought you had long since scratched me from your memory."

"You know them?" Sam looked at me, and when I looked back at him, I felt how my raging fury towards him ceased ever so slightly. God knew why.

"Sadly, yes, I do."

"Wait a minute…" The older man narrowed his eyes as he inspected my family, and I feared the recognition lightening up his face as my father, mother, brother and sister came to stand opposite from us.

The grand finale of a soap opera couldn't have been worse than this situation.

"Well, sis, just when I thought you couldn't stoop any lower," Karen chuckled, "You hook up with the Winchester Campbells. Then again, you always were a worthless slut."

"You should know."

"Ouch, Rachel. Is that the way to greet your sister after ten long years?"

"Be glad I don't break your neck instead."

"As if you could."

"Don't make me demonstrate that I can indeed."

"Whoa, whoa, ladies." Hayden held up his hands, chuckling. "Can't you put your differences aside for just a moment?"

I huffed and shook my head in disbelief. Ten years, and nothing had changed.

"Nobody's talking to you, Hayden, so shut the hell up," I snapped.

Before my brother could reply, the old man growled and glared at my father: "Ewan Black. What the hell are you doing here?"

Awesome, he did know him. Peachy.

"Samuel Campbell. Thought you had graced us with your departure long ago."

I ran a hand over my face. Disaster seemed like too nice a word for what was in store for me.

"Rachel, what the hell's going on here?" Sam hissed under his breath as his grandfather, as I figured, and my father exchanged insults and whatnot.

"What do you think?" I snapped back.

"Wait. Black as in…'Red Creek' Black?" Dean asked quietly.

"Yes."

"Great." Dean replied, and recognition finally found its way onto Sam's face, too.

"You're telling me. I didn't pick that family."

"Yeah, I figured. You seem okay a person."

I let out a humourless chuckle. "Thanks. That might be the closest I ever got to a compliment from a hunter."

I considered sneaking from the room, but my father's booming voice interrupted that plan. "Rachel, you step away from that family right now."

"Or what? You'll shoot me?"

"Daughter, I have tried so hard to be patient with you…"

"Oh, you have? Gee, I must have been sick that day. Because all I can recall is you being my merciless drill sergeant, who didn't give a damn about me."

"Playing normal life is over, Rachel. Time to get back to your family." My mother intervened.

"As far as I'm concerned, I don't have family."

My mother took a deep breath, an obvious attempt to keep herself from snapping at me like she had all her life. "This is bigger than your selfish desire to lead a normal life, Rachel. They," she nodded in the rough direction of Sam, Dean and Samuel, "have brought the end upon all of us."

"I've got no idea what you mean by that, and frankly, I don't care. You stay the hell out of my life."

My darling sister decided that she hadn't made her high opinion of me clear enough yet. "You're the most selfish, arrogant and oblivious person to have ever walked this planet, you know that?"

"Because you're such a selfless sweetheart," I snapped.

"We're at war, Rachel, and we need all hands on deck! So get over your damn self and get back in."

"No," I said simply.

"So, what, you'd rather stay with them? Do you have any idea of what they've been doing lately, especially Sammy here?" Karen raised her eyebrows as if she were the omniscient queen of the world.

Honestly, I didn't know and I was afraid to. But I as sure as hell wouldn't let my family know that. I had my priorities straight; My disappointment, hurt and anger towards Sam for leaving didn't nearly outweigh my devouring hatred towards my family.

The fact that Sam remained completely motionless while Dean shifted uneasily told me that there was way too much truth to my sister's words than I would have liked.

"I swore I was done hunting, and I am. Since when am I needed, anyways? All my life you've spent telling me how useless I was."

"This is different, Rachel-"

"Save it. I'm done and that's it. So… Bite me, bitch."

"I'll leave that to him, thanks," she gave a nod towards Sam. "Tell me something, sis, did Jack know what a deceiving whore you are?"

I had reached my limit of self-control. I lunged at my sister, jumped at her like a fury, and I would have scratched her eyes out had Sam let me. I felt his arms snake around my waist, holding me back, and no matter how much I fought him, he wouldn't let me go.

I was damn near to scratching his eyes out instead.

"Rachel. Rachel! She's not worth it." He murmured.

"Are you?" I asked breath- and emotionlessly. I stopped struggling and pushed him away from me again.

Eyes cold as steel, I looked at my family. Then I slowly turned towards the exit.

"Rachel. If you walk out that door, it will be as if you were never part of this family, you hear me?"

"How's that any different to how it's been my whole life?" I asked bitterly, not even bothering to look at them anymore.

"Something big is going down, and these Winchesters are part of it, and it ain't good. You'd really rather choose the brothers who broke the world than your own blood?"

"Yes," I didn't find the strength in me to say more.

"You can't leave your past behind, Rachel. And if you leave now, you'll stand alone."

"I've always stood alone. All my life. I know how to handle it, thanks."

The silence following my words as I left the room couldn't have been louder than a screaming fit of my mother.

"Wow, a Black who has a backbone. There I always thought you were a spineless breed." I couldn't see Samuel Campbell's face, but the gleeful smirk was evident enough in his voice.

"I'll take her home," Sam's low voice carried to me through the empty hallway of the deserted building.

I didn't want to eavesdrop; then again, I believed it to be my fair right to listen in on them.

"You don't go near my daughter ever again!"

"I didn't quite get the sense that you're worthy of having a say in her life," the coldness in Sam's voice chilled me to my very bone, though what he had said made me somewhat warm inside. Was he actually standing up for me?

If he thought that would make up for him taking off without a word, though, he was wrong.

I started walking briskly when I heard steps nearing – I didn't want to make the obvious impression of having eavesdropped. Sam caught up to me quickly, and we left the building in silence. I had sworn myself that I would never forgive him, but I couldn't deny that undeniable slightly good feeling of having him close.

"Get in. I'm taking you home."

"Who says I want you to?"

Sam let out an exasperated sigh. "Rachel, I know I messed up. I know I hurt you."

"I never said you hurt me. I am damn pissed, but not hurt. Huge difference."

"Fine." I had the sneaky feeling Sam just said that to shut me up, not because he meant it. "Either way, I am sorry that I just left you."

"Why did you, then? Damn it, Sam, I needed you then, more than I ever needed anyone, and you fucking bailed on me!"

"I figured you would manage your wedding without me."

I huffed humourlessly. "You mean to tell me you don't know? You think I needed you to hold my hand on my way up to the aisle? That that's the reason why I called your number for weeks, even when the same monotone voice told me over and over again that this number has been disconnected?"

Sam had the grace to look at least a little ashamed – but it lacked a certain sincerity. "Rachel… if it's not that, then what was it?"

I pressed my lips together and ran a hand through my hair. "Wow. You really have no clue."

"Rachel, would you stop the quiz show and just tell me?"

I whirled around and glared at him. "Do I really need a reason to be pissed beyond bounds that you ran off without another word other than I was disappointed, and hurt when you weren't there when I needed you? For the second time, might I add?"

"Ral, look…"

"No. Just, no." I shook my head and swallowed down the traitorous lump in my throat. After a deep breath, I quietly said: "The day you left… Jack died. I came back from the morgue when I found your note. Need I really say more?"

I could hear Sam's sharp intake of breath. "Rachel, I'm sorry… I didn't know."

"Would it have changed anything if you had?" I asked bitterly.

Sam didn't answer. We looked at each other for a minute in silence, and we might have stood like that for hours if Dean, Samuel and the other guy hadn't returned then.

"Wow, family like that, I'm surprised you're still sane," Dean remarked.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that part," I sighed. "Anyways, just for the record; whatever beef you might have with my so-called family – don't project it on me. As far as I'm concerned, they're strangers and I don't ever want to see them again."

"I'm not blaming you," Dean looked at me intensively, and I felt that I could trust him. He had something Sam lacked… I just couldn't put my finger on what it was. "Come on, we'll take you home."

"'We'?" I frowned.

"After seeing you with a sharp object in your hand, and considering Sam and you don't exactly seem to be on the best of terms, I think Switzerland ought to ride in the car with Germany and France to prevent a bloody massacre."

I had to smile despite all the crap that went down tonight. "I didn't know that there's a sensible version of Winchesters, too."

Dean grinned, "You ain't half-bad, you know that? I'm starting to like you."

"Likewise." I got in back, behind the passenger seat, which was a mistake, as it gave Sam the possibility to look at me sideways. He watched Samuel and the other dude – I really ought to get his name – take off in the truck, then rolled out onto the street and took off into the opposite direction.

Awkward silence filled the car.

"Since when?"

"Since when, what?"

"Since when have you been hunting?" Sam shot me a quick, sharp look before turning his eyes back on the street.

I could pick another fight now, but I just didn't have the strength for it left. It would be easier to simply answer. "Since I was four years old." I trailed my fingertip over the steamed up window, drawing meaningless patterns.

I sighed and continued, knowing that it wouldn't satisfy him: "An especially violent shtriga took my sister. My parents couldn't take it… she was their golden girl. The oldest of us, the best of us… they never said it out loud, but I know they blame me for Lucy's death."

"Why would they blame you?" Sam shot the next question at me the second I had finished.

"Sam…" I sighed tiredly, "I'll answer your questions, but don't make it sound like a damn interrogation. In case you forgot; I'm not the only one who kept secrets. And if Karen, for the first time ever, was right, you have even more than I do. Quid pro quo. I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Sam narrowed his eyes.

I crossed my arms before my chest and waited. I was surprisingly good at that.

Dean let out a chuckle.

"What?" Sam and I snapped in unison.

We shot each other an irritated look.

"It's just that…"

"Dean. What?" Sam growled.

"Seems like you finally found your match. This ought to be an entertaining ride," Dean leaned back with a smug smile on his face, "I hope you checked her for weapons before you let her get in behind us."

Sam rolled his eyes.

"Where are we, anyways? And how'd you find that vampire nest?" I decided to get the attention off Sam's and my history, for now.

"We're in Arizona, and we got a lead on the Alpha vamp, and it lead straight to that warehouse."

"Uh-huh. I haven't been hunting in a long time, so bear with me… what the hell's an Alpha vamp?"

Sam sighed, "Very long story."

"Well, I daresay we've got the time, seeing as we're stuck in a car for at least two or three hours."

"First things first."

"That is first thing."

"Not for me."

"Well, tough, it's your turn to spill some."

Sam glared at me.

"Eyes on the street," I remarked dryly.

"Fine. What about a deal. You tell your whole story, I'll tell mine."

I pondered for a moment. "Fine. But, fair warning: You try take off before I got an honest answer to my every question, I'll tie you up and force you to tell me everything at gunpoint."

"Does it bother you at all how easily I believe you that you would really do that?"

"Not really, no."

"So we got a deal?"

I took a deep breath. "Yeah."

"Okay, shoot."

"He doesn't mean that literally," Dean quickly threw in.

I had to smile despite myself. "Fine, what do you want to know?"

"You could start with how your whole family got into hunting and why you hate them so much."

"You met them, you should know why I wish I could erase my blood relation to them."

"Are you going to keep that snappy attitude up forever? Because it's not gonna get us very far."

"One: Yes, I do intend letting you know every second of my existence that I will never forgive you for bailing on me, and two: for the sake of the productiveness of this conversation, I will put my not so friendly feelings for you aside just long enough to deliver my CV."

Dean laughed quietly to himself while Sam was burning holes into the windshield with his fiery glare that was probably intended for me.

"Anyways," I took a calming breath and prepared to tell the truth about my life, for the first time ever. It would be the first time I would tell no lies. Well, I supposed that leaving one tiny fact out didn't count as lying, especially considering that it didn't concern my hunting history.

"After my sister died, my parents got obsessed with finding out what killed her, and so they got into the hunters' circles… and they dragged my siblings and me into it. I was just four, Karen was seven and Hayden nine years old. My parents were so blinded by their hunger for revenge, their rage and grief that they never saw what they were doing to us. Honestly, my siblings didn't help much – they never questioned anything my parents told them. My parents glorified Lucy as if she had been perfection impersonated, and made us other three strive for that same perfection that we could never fulfill because it was nothing but an illusion. Karen came close enough, it seemed, as my parents never complained about her, and my brother, well, he was perfect anyways, the only son. If it hadn't been for their wayward youngest daughter, I'm sure my parents would have been content with their perfect family."

"Well, you are a rather challenging person."

"I thought we had agreed on laying down our weapons for the honesty talks?"

"I never said it was a bad thing."

I frowned. "Whatever that means. Well, anyhow. I'll spare you the charming details of the life I led for thirteen years – let's just leave it at the fact it wasn't good. The day my parents had that shtriga tracked down and killed, they should have gone back to our old lives… but they didn't. They kept at it mercilessly, without regards to losses."

"Red Creek."

I sighed. What had happened at Red Creek had made its way through the grapevine, along hunters, anyways. "Yeah. I mean, I had come to hate hunting with them for a long time, but the day that thing at Red Creek went down tipped the scale for good. That night I told them to stick it where the sun don't shine and left. Never picked up a weapon since that day… until now." I bit my lips and thought back to that godforsaken night in the sleepy town of Red Creek.

My family had taken a case that turned out to not be witchcraft, but an extremely powerful and violent shtriga that sucked the life essence out of children in a matter of minutes. In order to catch the monster, my family hadn't shied back at using kids as bait… not caring that three children died because they refused to strike before the 'time was right'.

The worst thing was that my family hadn't cared.

'Everybody has sacrifices to make, Rachel. We already made ours. Now it's their turn,' my mother had said coldly when I yelled at them that they had let those children walk into death not even trying to help them.

'And we got the bitch. Job done,' my father had chimed in.

'You don't see it, do you?' I had asked incredulously. 'You are so consumed by revenge that you can't even differ between right and wrong. And I know why.'

'Oh, yeah? Why's that, Rachel?'

'You might say that it's our job hunting things, but you forgot about the 'saving people' part long time ago. The real reason why you're so obsessed with killing monsters is because you can't accept that fact that you've failed protecting your own children.'

That had been the first time my father struck me. It would be the last time, too, because I had packed my stuff and left. Got a scholarship, went to Stanford and finally lived the normal life I wanted. Until now…

I shook my head and returned to the present. "They never saw what it was doing to their children… well, to me, anyways."

"So you really made the break and got out," Dean commented quietly.

"I thought I did. Looking around me now… I can't say that I've succeeded in the long term."

"Don't worry, we'll be out your life before you know it."

"Oh, yeah, I know how that goes, thanks to your brother," I replied, piqued.

"How long are you going to hold that over me?"

"Hm, let's see…Somewhere between forever and until the end of my days."

"Wow, you two really have some unresolved issues." Dean shook his head.

"You've got no idea," I mumbled.

Dean looked at me, then at Sam. "So, either of you want to tell me what exactly happened or do I have to assume the worst?"

"Define 'worst'," I grumbled.

"Well, all I know so far is that Sam lived with you for three weeks, then left when he found out about our grandfather being alive. I know you've gone to college together and you were best friends with Jessica, and that you were engaged to a guy named Jack. So far, so good. Except for the fact you two are both hunters and didn't realize it, that is a little disturbing and makes me seriously doubt your receptive skills and honesty qualities.

But considering you're the daughter of Ewan Black, I don't really think anything shocks me anymore. Unless I had to find out you two ended up in bed together, because that would indeed put the crown on it." Dean let out a little laugh, as if that thought was completely abstract.

Silence.

"You didn't." I wasn't sure if Dean could have looked more shocked if we'd told him the devil was on the lose.

Sam hunched his shoulders, I crossed my arms before my chest and sank deeper into the backseat defiantly.

"Awww, man, come on," Dean looked not too happily at his brother, then at me and back at Sam. "Seriously?"

Neither Sam nor I said anything still.

"I mean, after that thing with Ruby, I'd come to terms with something being wrong with you, but an engaged woman, Sam, seriously?"

"Thanks for pointing that out so clearly," I stated dryly. As if my guilt wasn't overwhelming enough already. "And who's Ruby?"

"Thanks, Dean."

"Well, she deserves the whole truth, and if you don't tell her, I will."

Seemed like their brotherly relationship wasn't living its best days, judging from the tension between them. I wondered why.

"Turn left there," I interrupted the glaring contest between the brothers.

"What? Your apartment's that way."

"My old apartment. I moved."

Sam didn't ask why, just turned left and followed my directions until we parked in front of the apartment buildings facing San Francisco Bay.

Dean whistled appreciatively. "Nice stakes."

"You can park there." I pointed to an empty space. "And don't believe for a second that I leave this car before you do."

Sam sighed, but obeyed. When he had gotten out of the car, I opened the door, climbed out and led the way to the lobby, always keeping a reassuring eye on the brothers. I wouldn't let them out of my sight until I got their full story.

"Good evening, Ms Black." The porter glanced up briefly. If he noticed my deranged appearance and the two shady characters behind me, he didn't let it show.

"Evening, Mr Hurley. Would you do me a favour?"

He raised his eyes to look at me. "Of course. What can I do for you?"

"Do not tell anyone that I'm at home. Anybody asks for me, I'm out of town. Do not let anybody up, and if they say they're Jesus."

The porter didn't even blink. "Yes, ma'am."

"Thanks." I smiled and slipped him a fifty dollar bill. It was hard to find trustworthy porters these days, so you had to pay them well when you found one.

"Thank you, Ms Black. I wish you a pleasant evening."

"To you, too." I turned to the Winchester brothers again. "It's on the 8th floor. See you there." I turned to the staircase.

"Um, elevator out of order or something?" Dean frowned.

"Don't ask." Sam sighed and called the lift.

I refrained from some comment about cursing him with clowns dragging him to hell and let the door swing close behind me. I quickly ascended the flights of stairs until I eventually reached the eighth floor. Quite some good exercise for your legs and butt, holy crap.

"Explain something to me," Dean said as I unlocked the door to my apartment, "How in the world did you survive in the hunters' business with claustrophobia?"

I rolled my eyes at Sam, who replied with a daring lift of his eyebrows. "Normally, monsters don't hide in elevators. I admit that they do sometimes tend to lock you up in a room so small you can hardly bring your arms up, but who keeps score."

"Sounds uncomfortable."

"That was nothing compared to that time my father had me ending up buried alive, in a tiny coffin six feet under," I dryly added, "I'm not a psychologist, but I daresay that's the deep-seated root of my strong dislike of confining spaces."

"Huh. Makes more sense than Sammy's fear of clowns. They never did anything to you." The last part, Dean directed at his brother.

"Because your fear of flying is so much more reasonable. Oh, and by the way, we did hunt a homicidal clown once."

"Yeah, and we nearly crashed trying to exorcise a demon on a freakin' plane!"

"As entertaining and mature this conversation is… are you guys hungry? I'm not saying I'll get behind the hearth, but I do know a great Indian take-out place."

"God, yes. I'm starving."

I wordlessly handed Dean the menu.

"Beer?"

"Yes, please," Dean raised his eyes from the 'Taj Mahal' menu and looked at me with an inscrutable look.

"What?"

"I didn't expect quite that much… hospitality. Considering… you know."

"That's what Hansel and Gretel thought about the old lady with the sweet house, too," I smiled sweetly, "And we all know how that ended."

"Gee, thanks for that reassurance."

We smiled at each other for a moment before I walked into my kitchen and got out three beers and a bottle of whiskey.

"Hey, Ral, where'd that vampire jump you, anyways?" Sam asked as the three of us sat around my dining table. It was a hellishly awkward situation, really, but none of us could be bothered to think about that.

"Parking lot of a club nearby. Some friends and I went out yesterday night, like every Friday."

The brothers exchanged a look.

"What?"

"Today's Sunday, Rachel."

My mouth opened in surprise, but I caught myself again. "Huh. That would explain why I am so damn hungry."

"You're really not easily shaken, are you?"

"Not my style," my smile came a little forced. Truth was, there were a few things that were quite capable of rocking my world, making me fall so hard I found it hard to get up again. "So, anyways. Before we get to the reason why a vamp thinks it necessary to abduct me, I would really, really like to know what the hell is going on. And don't you dare spare the details."

"You sure you want the whole story?" Sam inhaled deeply, and I thought to catch a glimpse of worry in his eyes. Whether it was about me or himself, I couldn't make out in the nano-second it lasted.

"You asking like that implies that I don't want to hear the smallest detail, but believe me, I do."

What's more, I had to know. Not only for myself.

Sam ran a hand through his hair and sighed. "It all started when I was six months old…"

I owned the Winchester brothers and Supernatural… but then I woke up.

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