Hey guys! SO first off, I'm sorry that I tok forever to update, I kind of have writer's block. Secondly, this chapter is a whole lot shorter than usual, and once again, I'm sorry.

Third, tot he user that reviewed about the trigger warning, I have put one in place at the beginning of the last chapter. I'm sorry that it brought up bad memories, I'm sorry that I hadn't thought of putting up a warning, and thank you so much for letting me know. I will put up a warning from now on.

Fourth, School is starting soon, and that means updates will get longer. My bus ride is an hour, so I can probably work on chapters then, but if people are nosy, I really don't want to be known as the girl who writes emo fanfiction.

Lastly, I would like to thank all of you guys for being so awesome. I'm super happy about how well this story is doing.

As always, reviews make my day! Criticism, compliments, and crap are all welcome.

-Fox

I woke to the sound of worried voices.

"Why isn't she waking up?" Sam was yelling. "She should be awake by now."

"Cas, can't you fix her?" It was Dean, this time.

"I've done all that I can," Cas spoke evenly. "But Sam's right, she should be awake by now."

I sat up. "Guys? I'm fine, I'm awake." No reaction.

"This is all my fault," I heard Dean mutter.

"Guys!" I yelled. "I'm awake!" I swung my legs over the side of the bed I had been resting on, and I stood up. I waved my hands in front of Dean's face, no reaction. I tried punching him, but my hand passed right through. No, I thought. No, this can't be, I'm not dead! I couldn't be dead, Cas said he healed me!

As if Dean had read my mind, he softly asked, "Is she dead?"

"No, not yet. She's perfectly fine, from what I can tell," Cas replied, stepping towards the bed. Not until then did I realize that I was still laying there. Well, my body was. Cas touched his fingers to my forehead, and he frowned. "I don't understand... She should be awake. She is perfectly healthy, and her brain is active, but something is... preventing her from waking."

I frowned. What could possibly be keeping me unconscious? Just then, my room in the bunker melted away, and I was standing in the middle of my high school's cafeteria. I looked at the clock. 11:47, right in the middle of my lunch period. My eyes wandered to where my friends and I would usually sit. Our little pack consisted of six people: Janet, my neighbor, Bella, the adventerous one, Clara, the other resident fangirl, Al, my other neighbor, and John, my crush.

I didn't know what I expected to see. I was easily the loudest out of all of us, and I was sort of the unoffical group leader, mostly because I had, in a way, brought us all together. Janet and I had been friends a long time ago, way back in first grade. But we didn't have any classes together until later, when she, Bella, and I became a little trio. In middle school, I met Clara. She and I were really similar, and we hit it off almost instantly. John and Al I had known since third grade, but we didn't really start to hang out until middle school, when I had an acting class with the two of them.

Three completely seperate groups of people, who probably would have never hung out if I hadn't built bridges between all of us, with me at the center.

When I reached our table, I found it abandoned. I frowned. Why wasn't anyone here? It was our lunch period, we all ate together, and it was highly unlikely that they were all absent. I scanned the cafeteria, and I spotted Clara first. She was brushing her long, blonde hair behind her shoulder as she took a bite of what looked to be a turkey sandwich. Janet was sitting next to her, and Bella next to Janet. They were talking about something, but I couldn't tell what.

I walked over to them, and heard Bella talking about how she was thinking of adopting another cat. She had convinced her dad to let them get a foster cat when we were 12, and she was thinking maybe Monte could use a friend.

Janet was nodding, suggesting some good adoption places she knew of. Clara was listening, but looked a little out of it. She was looking down at something in her lunch bag, so I walked over behind her, and I knew why, instantly. It was a tupperware full of kiwi slices.

Way back when I had met Clara, in seventh grade, we had been sitting together, eating lunch. I had bought my lunch, and I had taken a tiny bite of a kiwi, but it wasn't ripe yet, so it was terribly sour. I made a face, and she had laughed. I had then proceeded with rubbing the entire fruit along her arm. It had kind of been a tradition, rubbing sour kiwis on Clara.

Then, I spotted John. He was sitting across the cafeteria, talking with Al. Around him was the group of people he and Al used to sit with before I was close with them.

I ran over, only to pass through three different people. I reached their table, and tried to get their attention. I smacked John, then tried to pull Al's hair, nothing happened. I wanted to throw something, but I couldn;t. Needless to say, this was very frustrating. I was about to walk away when I heard one of the other guys at the table say, "So last month, my brother started watching this one show, Supernatural I think, and he's already 6 seasons in."

I turned around just in time to see John freeze. I had gotten him into Supernatural, and I realized, that by now, Season 10 was out. And I had probably missed the 200th episode musical. Damn. I was really looking forward to that.

John had this faraway look in his eyes, like he was remembering all the terrible fanfiction I made him read. Al looked over at him, and sighed.

"You're thinking about her again, aren't you," He said, softly. John nodded slightly, then turned away.

I didn't want to see this, I didn't want to watch my friends seperated, barely hanging on whenever something reminded them of me.

Then, the cafeteria melted away into my bedroom. It was exactly how I left it, clothes strewn across the floor, laptop sitting on my bed. I sat down and looked around my room. It was werid, I had't been here in three months. The longest I had ever gone before was three weeks. My eyes scanned the walls, resting on a photograph of me, when I was in sixth grade.

My hair had been straightened, and I was wearing ruby-red lipstick, as well as eyeliner and plenty of blush. My hair had been pulled pack partially, held back by a bow. I was smiling, my arms around two of my best friends. I was holding a bouquet of flowers.

The photo was taken after the second showing of my school's musical of which I had been the lead in. I remember that day well. I remember the heat of the spotlight, the butterflies in my stomach, the sound of the music, the way my voice sounded, the dancing, the singing, the movement. It was surreal.

I also remember the wait for the cast list to be posted. It had been an agonizing four day wait. My brother had told me there was no way I would get the lead, and that was honestly half the reason I wanted it.

Singing has always been one of my favorite pastimes. I never thought I was any good, until sixth grade. And most of that was because I would be constantly shushed or yelled at. My brother would yell, saying I was an awful singer, and my dad would yell, complaining he had a headache. And they wonder why I don't like singing for them.

I remember I was in English when I got the news. I had been working on an essay, and I decided to check my email. The girl next to me had looked over my shoulder, and saw the email in my inbox before I did.

"Is that the cast list?" She whispered. I nodded, clicking it. As the email loaded, three more people gathered behind me. By the time I had read my name, there were seven people standing behind me, in a cluster.

"What's going on over there?" My english teacher had asked from her desk. We weren't supposed to check out email during school hours, so I panicked.

"I don't know," I said, shrugging. "They all just sort of crowded around me." She looked skeptical but turned back to the papers she had been grading.

"Fine, fine, everyone, go sit down," She had said, waving her arm. The group of kids behind me disbanded, and scurried back to their seats. And for the rest of the day, I had been floating on a cloud.

I got up, and walked to my bedroom door. It was open, and I walked through the doorway. I walked down the stairs, and found myself in my kitchen. Sitting in their bed were my two dogs, Meyer and Perogi. Perogi was chewing on Meyer's ears, as always. Meyer was just sitting there, letting Perogi chew away. I smiled when I saw them. They were so ridiculous looking, it was hard not to.

I looked around my house, and realized it was empty. It was the middle of the day, after all. My parents were at work, and my brother was at school. I looked around my house, not entirely sure what I was looking for. Everything was as it had always been.

Just then, a man appeared in front of me. I screamed a little, and he turned towards me. "Are you Annie?" He asked, his voice even. He was taller than I was, but not by much. He looked to be about 5'6, maybe 5'7. I nodded, stepping away from him.

"How do you know me?" I asked, slowly. "Why are you here? Why am I here?"

"I'm here to talk to you. You're here because this universe, the one you belong in, is pulling you back to it." He spoke softly, and his voice was so smooth and calming, it was like being drenched in honey.

"What?" I said. "Why?"

"I'm not sure how you got into the other universe, but this is where you are supposed to be." He gestured to the kitchen.

"I don't want to go back! I hate it here! There's nothing for me here, I'm can't..." I trailed off. I didn't want to come back. I was happy with Sam and Dean, I was helpful. Here, I was a nobody.

"But the other universe isn't your home, you don't belong there!" Who was he to tell me what home was? Just because this is where my relatives live, that doesn't mean they're my family, and that certainly doesn't mean that this is my home.

"Well, I sure as hell don't belong here!" I shouted.

"Ultimately, it's your choice, I guess." His smooth voice was calming, but I was still angry. "But you need to choose quickly, the longer you waste time, floating around, the longer Team Free Will lingers around your bedside. They have other things they need to be doing." He paused, then looked around, before lowering his voice. "Whatever you choose, be careful."

"What? Why do I have to be careful?" I asked. "Who are you?"

"A friend," He said, smiling. Then, he disappeared. Typical.

I was alone again, and I suddenly felt empty. What had he meant, be careful? Was this really all my choice? I sat down, putting my head in my hands.

I had nothing here, I told myself. Freinds who probably hated me, a hopeless crush, parents who didn't love me, there was nothing for me here. I could be something, be someone who helped others. Sam and Dean may not see it, but being a hunter is truly amazing. All the people who wouldn't be alive if not for hunters. To be able to help save lives is really something.

I wanted to tell my friends that I was sorry, sorry for leaving them. I wanted to tell them that I would miss them, and that I didn't want them to be sad. I wanted to tell all of them good bye. But I couldn't. I had no control over my ghostly body.

But I had chosen. I watched the room melt around me, and I felt myself being pulled backwards. I was surrounded in liquid darkness, and I felt like I was falling. Then, I snapped open my eyes, and sat up, in the bunker.

The room was empty, and as I sat up, I saw spots. I stood up, blinking. I looked down to see that I was completely healed, except for three scratches running along the side of my leg. It was most likely caused by the damn werewolf's claws.

I headed for the door, and just before I opened it, I heard the mystery man's voice in my head. Be careful.