So I realized last night that since the apocalypse never happened, Dean would still be wearing the Samulet. That probably made me happier than it by all rights should, so expect it to be mentioned in upcoming chapters. Enjoy the new chapter! :)

The smell brought everything back. Must, oil, old iron. The odor punched her in the nose, and she remembered every pain she had suffered. She remembered Paul's glazed eyes. She remembered the blood pooling around her father. Or rather, the pieces of him they had brought from the house. Amelia tried to take even breaths as the images assaulted her.

"This isn't a good idea Dean," Sam argued, observing Amelia's distress.

She pushed the memories back and gripped her stake tighter. "I'm fine," she spat through clenched teeth.

Dean looked back at her. She stared at him wordlessly. He frowned, but then turned and kept walking, Amelia trailing behind him. Sam huffed, and followed.

Silently, Dean led the way back to the place where they had imprisoned Amelia and her family. With every step, terror pounded at her. She had been there for days, bleeding, listening to the screams as the creatures devoured the others. She bit down on her lip, hard, as they rounded the corner.

Then she saw the bodies. Tattered almost beyond recognition, but she could still recognize her brother's face, though half of his lower body seemed to be missing. Her stomach lurched, and she crumpled to her knees fighting to keep her breakfast down.

"They must be pissed," Dean muttered. "Savaged the bodies in retaliation?"

Sam shrugged. "Does it really matter? Let's just find them."

Dean crouched down in front of Amelia, who couldn't seem to look away from her brother's battered body.

"Hey, we have to keep moving, keep looking. You're with me. Sam, we're splitting up. They have to be close," he looked at her. "If you can't do this, it's ok."

Amelia took a breath, of musty, dank, oh-so-familiar air that nearly made her lose her breakfast after all, and stood, jaw clenched.

"Alright, let's go."

Sam shot his brother a look, but moved off quietly.

"Stick behind me, shout out if you see anything."

He led the way, machete held close to his body, swiveling his head back and forth. He kept to the shadows, listening and looking for any sign of the vampires. Amelia crept behind him, nerves keyed up, peering into the dusty shadows, gripping her ash stake so tight she started to lose feeling in her hand. Then something, someone, knocked her over from behind. She cried out as she fell to the hard cement floor. Dean spun, already swinging the machete.

"C'mere you bastard!" he yelled.

The strigoi crouched on top of Amelia, fangs bared, blue eyes glowing in the darkness, hair tumbling everywhere, and leaped. Dean's machete caught it in the upper arm, hacking through the bone, and the arm fell to the ground.

The creature shrieked, but it's momentum carried it into Dean, who fell to the floor. Still screaming, it ran away into the shadows. Dean jumped up, and sprinted after it, machete brandished. But he stopped and glanced back.

Amelia had rolled to a sitting position, cradling her shoulder, and staring at the severed arm in sick fascination.

"Come on, we have to stick together. They're hunting us. We have to find Sam." He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text.

Dean helped her to her feet, and gave her a reassuring pat on her good shoulder. "Stay sharp."

Then he moved off along the blood trail, machete held at the ready. She stayed in his shadow, holding her breath, and trying to hold herself together. Just a little bit longer, to get her revenge on the monsters for taking her brother away. So when Dean was sideways tackled by a flying creature, she didn't lose her cool for a second.

Amelia spun, because she knew there would be one coming up behind her. She leveled her stake, just at heart height, and the strigoi skewered itself on it. Amelia smiled as it's snarling face sagged, and the blue light died in it's eyes, within inches of her face. It was the armless bitch.

"That's for my brother bitch," she hissed, and wrenched the stake out of it's chest.

She turned, just in time to be met by a growling, bloody face. The male strigoi grabbed the stake, hissed, and wrenched it out of her grasp.

"You killed her," it snarled, and it grabbed her bad shoulder, pressing hard.

Amelia gasped in pain, and tried to struggle away. But the deathly cold hand just gripped harder.

"You killed her, you stupid little mortal bitch," it's face contorted with rage, forcing Amelia to her knees. He pressed harder. Her shoulder exploded in pain, as her arm once again slid out of the socket. She screamed, again and again.

"You killed my brother, you son of a bitch!" she screamed at it, tears in her eyes from the pain.

"And he tasted delicious," the strigoi smiled.

"HEY!"

The strigoi spun away from her.

Sam stood on the other side of the room, machete in hand. "Done taunting girls? Come and get me!"

"Oh, I'm enjoying myself too much. I think Mary is open, though."

Sam spun around, just in time to be sidelined by the third red haired monster.

"Sam!" Dean blearily woke up, clutched his side, and tried to get to his feet.

"You hunters are getting slow. I'll be with you in a moment."

The male strigoi smiled again, and turned back to Amelia. In spite of the excruciating pain, she was smiling. A bloody teeth snarl, but technically still a smile. Because she again had the stick in her hand. She sprang from the floor, plunging the point into the thing's stomach and up into its heart. Her hand was instantly coated in the blood pouring out.

It's eyes grew huge, and it coughed, once, twice, spitting blood into her face.

"Die you sonabitch!" She screamed, and tried to wrench the stake out of the monster's bleeding stomach. But she couldn't get it out one handed, and her other arm dangled useless by her side.

Amelia stepped to the side as the strigoi crumpled lifeless to the ground.

By that time, Dean had found his feet, and raced towards his brother, his ash stake out for stabbing.

The monster had Sam trapped on the ground, fangs going for his throat. Only Sam's hands, pressing up on the thing's neck and forcing it away kept it from ripping his life out. Sam grunted, his hand started to slip, and the fangs came closer. Spit dropped into his face.

Then Dean's stake stabbed through the strigoi's chest, and it rolled off of Sam, dead. He lay gasping for a few seconds, then grabbed Dean's hand, and let his brother help him up. They nodded to each other, allowing a small smile, and looked down at the dead monster. It's mouth gaped open, snarling even in death.

"Well, I'm glad that's over," Sam rubbed his shoulder with a wince. "I suppose we should burn them at a crossroads just to be safe."

"Yea," Dean held his side, "I guess. Start loading the bodies, I'll get the girl."

Sam reached down and slung the thin body over his shoulder with a grunt, an expression of complete disgust on his face.

Amelia knelt on the floor, left arm slumped in her lap lifelessly, staring blankly at the corpses of the two monsters she had slain.

"Hey," Dean called out, but she didn't respond. He knelt beside her, gently touched her good shoulder. "Hey there."

After a few seconds, her eyes started roaming around, and finally settled on his face.

"Your shoulder is out again," he said, quietly.

She nodded, vaguely.

"It'll start swelling again pretty quick. I can put it back in, but it'll hurt like hell."

Amelia swallowed, then nodded once.

"Ok, I'll do it quick as I can."

He shifted behind her, and placed one arm across the front of her shoulder, anchoring his other arm on her back.

"On three," he told her. "One, two," she braced herself, "three."

The abused socket screamed in pain as the bone end suddenly grated back in. She managed to keep from fainting, but she did finally lose her breakfast. Dean held her from falling into the pile of her own puke, and helped her to her feet yet again.

She spat once or twice, to clear her mouth. "Sam ok?" her voice grated from all the screaming she had done.

"Yea, he's fine." He handed her a silver flask.

"What's this?"

"Holy water."

She stared at him blankly.

"For demons, but it'll clear your mouth out."

Dean wandered to one of the bodies, and poked it with a toe. "Nice job gankin' em. You did pretty well."

Amelia shrugged, and took a swig of the tepid water, swishing out her mouth. "The first one just ran into me, all I had to do was hold the stick."

"Still, you kept your head. You have blood on your face, you know."

He sighed, and grabbed the dead male strigoi. "Going to get blood everywhere," he complained, and hoisted it up.

She trailed after him out to the car, scrubbing her face absently with the sleeve of her sweatshirt. Sam had a few sheets of plastic laid out and was bundling up the first corpse.

"Hey, how are you doing?" Sam asked her.

Amelia shrugged, and studied the strigoi again, in the sunlight for the first time. Their skin seemed almost transparent. She could almost see the bones underneath the pale flesh.

"I'll get the third one," Dean dumped the body and went back into the building.

Amelia sagged against the car, staring blankly at the bodies Sam was wrapping up.

"We'll take you back to the hospital," Sam told her, "just as soon as we've got the strigoi loaded."

She shook her head. "Dean put my shoulder back in," she told him. "No point in going to the hospital."

"If you're sure, your house then," he grunted, as he lifted the body into the trunk.

Her house. The blood would still be there. Probably would be a crime scene. Amelia shuddered. She could go back for a bit, grab some clothes and stuff, then... Then what? What did she even have to live for any more? She swallowed, hard, staring at the limp body Sam wrapped up.

Hello again! Thanks for reading, it really means a lot to me. This was kind of a long chapter, but at least I didn't leave you in the middle of the action there, right? :) Let me know what you think of it. New chapter should be up hopefully on Saturday.