AUTHOR'S NOTE: EmilyAnn McGarrett-Winchester, Marryzinha Black, sjwmaw, AshtynnAlba, Lexie Lou, megfurtado, wandamarie, tamilyn313, thank you for leaving reviews! Yes, LexieLou, I am a Sam Girl, although I love Dean too. When I first started watching, I identified with Sam a lot- I'm a younger sibling and my older brother was very similar to Dean- and I didn't really like Dean too much, I thought he was an uptight hardass! (And a lot of my early fics reflect that, where Sam is portrayed as being nicer.) Marryzinha Black, I identify with Aly too, there are parts of me in all my characters. You're right, John doesn't understand Aly and how his different treatment of her has affected her, and that's partly what this story is about! He does love his kids but he doesn't know how to show it very well. Beta'ed by edge_of_clairvoyance and crzedpanda.

I've included some dialogue from Season 1 in this chapter, see if you can find it!

Content Warning for Angst. Aly gets spanked in this chapter. If this will bother or upset you, do not read it.

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I woke up groggy, but when I realized what time it was, I tried to hurry. It was hard pulling on my jeans with my stitched-up hand, but I managed. I threw Sam's ginormous hoodie on over a t-shirt and ran a brush through my hair.

I came out to the living room in a panic. "I'm late for school! Dad's going to kill me!"

Dean was sitting on the sofa with his shirt off and Sam was working on his shoulder.

Sam glanced at me. "Dad decided to let you stay home."

"AAH!" Dean exclaimed, "Yank the tape off a little faster next time, bitch," he said sarcastically.

"It's better to take it off quickly," Sam said.

"You better let me drink today."

"We'll see. It looks good, no discoloration or anything. I think we should leave it unbandaged right now and let it get some air," Sam told him, "How are you feeling? How's the pain?"

"It's manageable," Dean sighed, "Right now I could go for a beer."

"Dean, it's 9 o'clock in the morning!" I said.

"It's Happy Hour somewhere, sweetheart," he said with a smirk.

Sam stood up and came over to me. "How is your hand? You feeling okay?"

"I felt a little out of it when I woke up, and my hand kinda hurts right now."

"That's probably from the medication, and it's worn off by now. We'll have to see what Dad wants to give you." He gathered up the trash from Dean's bandages and took them to the kitchen.

I sat down next to Dean. Sam brought 2 mugs of coffee in and sat down next to me, turning the t.v. on.

Dad came into the living room, freshly showered and shaved. "How is everyone feeling this morning?"

"Fine," Dean said, "Just wanting a beer or three."

Dad beckoned to me, "How is your hand?"

I stood up and walked over to him, offering him my hand.

He took my hand and turned it, examining the stitches, "It looks good, no redness or swelling. I want you to start an antibiotic anyway, and we'll try you with some ibuprofen and see how that helps." He released my hand and looked at me. "After breakfast, we need to have a talk about this weekend."

I sank down on the arm of the sofa. "Uh, a-talk?" I didn't like the sound of that.

He raised his eyebrows. "Yes, Alyson, we need to discuss everything that happened."

Dammit! I'd been hoping he'd let everything go. "But—but- can't you cut me some slack? I—I'm hurt!" I held up my hand.

"Your hand is not going to be the part of your body getting punished," Dad said dryly.

My face started to get hot. "Uh—p-punished?" My mouth went dry. Surely he didn't mean-

He crossed his arms, his eyes boring into mine. "Yes, Alyson, you're going to be punished. You know that I don't take rule breaking lightly."

"Dad, can we maybe talk about this?" Sam interjected.

Dad turned his gaze to Sam. "What's to talk about?"

Sam shifted on the sofa. "Well, it's been a while since Aly's- gotten into trouble like this, and maybe, y'know-"

Dad's voice was stern. "Are you suggesting that she shouldn't have to deal with facing the consequences of her actions?"

Sam shook his head. "No, I'm not saying that. But maybe, you know, you don't have to—come down quite as hard on her-"

"What are you trying to say, Sam?" Dad frowned.

"Can you guys not talk about me like I'm not in the room? I'm right here!" I flared, feeling my blush deepen.

"All right, go to your room, then," Dad said.

"But—but Dad-"

He put his hands on his hips. "Or, you can stay, and I can wallop you right here in front of your brothers. Is that what you want?"

"No, Dad," and I squirmed when the words came out in a whine. "I mean, I-"

He stepped towards me and pointed. "Alyson. Do as I say." He snapped.

I hurried past him to my room. I chewed my lip nervously as I sat down at the head of my bed. I could hear the rumble of their voices as they talked, but it didn't sound like they were arguing, which was a relief. My anxiousness ratcheted up a notch when someone knocked on the door.

"C-come in," I called, swallowing nervously.

The door opened, and Dad came in, holding the wooden hairbrush. My stomach twisted up in a knot when I saw it.

He walked over to my dresser and set the brush down. "Sam tried to talk me out of spanking you, because it's been a while. But you know the consequences for breaking rules and disobeying."

"But, the hairbrush?!" Dammit, I was whining again! "I didn't lie, Dad!" Usually the hairbrush was reserved for when I lied, that was a rule that Dad had made when I was younger and went through a period of lying a lot.

He put his hand on his belt buckle. "The punishment for the boys breaking curfew was always the belt, would you rather-?"

"Uh- no, please!" I gave him my best puppy-dog eyes.

"All right. We'll deal with this after breakfast-"

"I—I have to wait?" I blurted out. I hated waiting! There would be no way to force myself to eat, with the impending spanking looming over my head.

"You want to get it over with now?"

I gulped, and then nodded. What I really wanted was for a hole to open up in the floor and swallow me whole.

He picked up the brush, and came over to my bed, sitting down on the edge and setting it next to him. He beckoned me with his fingers. "Come here, then."

"Daaaadd-" I squirmed, feeling myself start to blush again.

"Alyson, now." He said impatiently, snapping his fingers and pointing at the floor in front of him. I got up and walked over to stand in front of him, butterflies dancing in my stomach. I lowered my head and stared at the floor.

"You broke a lot of rules over the weekend, young lady," Dad's voice was stern. "Once again, you seem to have forgotten everything we've told you about your phone-"

"I told you, I left my phone-"

"Don't interrupt me." He snapped. "You're supposed to ask permission to go out, and not only did you not tell me you were staying late, you-"

"But Dad, Jenny's mom was-"

"Enough." He said in a clipped voice, patting his knee. "Over my lap."

I took a deep breath and laid myself across his thighs. He moved so that my torso was resting on the bed. "Give me your hand."

"Wh-what?"

"I'm going to hold onto you so that you don't hurt your injured hand." He explained.

I reached my hand back and he took my wrist and pinned it to my lower back.

"Now, you need to stop interrupting me and actually listen." He pushed the tail of the hoodie up out of the way and tucked it under my wrist. "You didn't check in like you were supposed to. You didn't respond to calls or texts, and you gave the excuse that you'd left your phone in someone's car. You know that is not acceptable, Alyson. We've been over that more than once with you through the years."

"I—I forgot!" I objected, and then I gasped as his hand cracked down on my butt. The sting was immediate, and tears came to my eyes.

"No. More. Excuses." His voice was firm.

"I- I'm trying to explain!" I protested, "Ow!" I yelped as he smacked my butt a couple more times.

"No. No more explanations, I'm talking, and you're listening." I felt his legs move as he shifted, and then he began to spank me as he lectured. "You didn't let me know you were staying late at the auditions, you went out without asking permission, and then you broke curfew. And this is on top of weeks of me having to speak to you about doing chores and giving me attitude."

"Dad, I'm sorry!" I burst out desperately. "I really am sorry!" My butt was starting to sting.

"And that's supposed to make it all better? You know that's not how this works. I think you've forgotten how important the rules are, and I intend to make sure you realize how serious your disobedience is." He reached under me to pop the button on my jeans, and then patted the side of my thigh. "Lift up."

I whimpered in the back of my throat as I shifted my hips, knowing this meant that my pants were coming down. He tugged down my jeans and then my panties, and then the spanking started up again. The swats rained down, and I hissed as the sting slowly built. He concentrated the smacks on the spot where my butt turns into my thigh, and my tears started overflowing.

"You are going to start following the rules, all of them. You are going to be responsible and keep yourself safe. And you are going to do your chores, and speak respectfully to people." He continued to lecture as he spanked.

"Yes, yes, I will!" I sobbed.

The swats stopped, and I felt him lean over. "Your brothers did talk me into using the hairbrush this time, but young lady, if you ever break curfew again, you can expect the belt. Do you understand?"

"Y-yes, Dad," my chest heaved. I buried my face in the blanket, knowing what was coming.

I felt the hard wood of the hairbrush tap my right cheek. "This is for breaking curfew, Alyson. Don't let it happen again." The first swat of wood against skin was loud in the room, and I cried out as it began to fall in a continuous rhythm.

"Ow! Please, Daddy, I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" I wailed.

He covered every inch of my bottom with brisk smacks from the brush. By the time he got to the undercurve I was sobbing limply. I felt him lean over, and he moved his arm off of my back. He smoothed my hair away from my face, and then rubbed my back as I cried.

When I had calmed down, he pulled up my panties and helped me sit up on his thigh, pulling me against his chest. I clutched at him and buried my face in his flannel, starting to sob again.

"Shh, it's done now," he murmured, rubbing my back again.

My chest hitched. "I'm s-sorry, Daddy."

"All right. I know. You make sure you do what you're told from now on, understand?"

"Yes sir."

"You're grounded from your phone at night, for the next week. You'll hand it over to one of us as soon as you get home from school."

"Yes sir."

"And if something like this happens again, you'll write an essay on rules and why they are needed. In addition to the spanking you'll get. But there's not going to be a next time, is there?"

"No, sir."

He gave me a tight hug. "Sam should have cooked breakfast by now, I think I can smell bacon." He patted my thigh, and I stood up. "Wash your face, and then come to the table."

"Yes, Dad," I said obediently. I felt kind of embarrassed when I joined everyone in the kitchen, but it wasn't like this had never happened before. We'd all had our moments like this, appearing in the kitchen after a spanking with red swollen eyes and sniffles.

Dean heaped my plate with a mound of scrambled eggs, and Sam placed three slices of bacon next to them and set two pieces of toast on top.

"Thanks guys," I said gratefully.

Dean poured me a glass of orange juice, and Dad brought over some pills for me. "The white one is the antibiotic, it might make your stomach feel a little funny. You need to take it twice a day."

After we ate, I loaded the dishwasher and then joined Dean on the sofa for a monster movie marathon that lasted well into the afternoon.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

At dinner the next night, I asked, "Dad, I need to go over to Jenny's house so we can work on our English project. Can I go tomorrow?"

"Yes, one of us should be here to give you a ride."

"What's the project?" Sam asked.

"We're comparing Jane Austen with Emily Bronte, their lives and how their writing influenced later authors." I told him.

Sam smiled at me. "That's interesting. I'd love to read it when you're done."

"Sure, Sam." I toyed with my fork and looked over at Dad. "Can't I just ride the bus home with her?"

"One of your brothers can take you over after dinner." He took a bite of his burger.

"But-but we need as much time as possible to work on it, and I'll have more time if I ride the bus straight to her house. Please, Dad!" I tried giving him puppy-dog eyes, but he appeared unaffected. "Her mom said that she would feed me dinner and bring me home, so you guys don't have to come get me!"

"It's not a problem to come and get you. Where does she live again?"

I told him and watched as he thought about it. "All right." He nodded. "You can ride the bus to her house. But you have to text me when you get there. One of us will pick you up. I want you home by twenty-one hundred at the latest."

"Why can't her mom give me a ride home? And nine PM? That's early!" I objected. I wasn't used to all the questions, usually my brothers agreed to whatever I asked, with minimal explanations.

Dad leaned forward and looked at me. "I will pick you up because I said so." He said sternly. "I don't want you staying up late on a school night."

"Fine," I said bitterly.

He frowned. "Excuse me?"

"We won't have hardly any time to work-"

"If you keep complaining about it, the answer is going to be no for everything. Is that clear?"

I pressed my lips together and stabbed a piece of lettuce with my fork.

It was silent for a long moment and I could feel the tension in the air.

Dad's voice was a growl. "Would you like to leave the table and spend the rest of the night confined to quarters? Because you're real close to that."

I glanced up at him- he was glaring at me. "No." I said quietly.

"Lose- the- attitude. I mean it, young lady. Do I make myself clear?" He tapped the table as he spoke.

"Yessir." I said, not wanting to poke the bear any more.

"And one more thing. If you 'forget' to text or call me anymore, you will be getting a bedtime spanking that night. Understand?"

I squirmed, embarrassed that he was talking about that. "But, what if-"

He held up his hand. "There are no 'what ifs'. No forgetting. No excuses." He raised his eyebrows. "Young lady, I'm waiting for a response."

"Yes sir, I understand."

Everything had gone off without a hitch. I had ridden the bus to my friend's house, texted Dad when I got there, and we had worked the whole evening. Her Mom had made tacos and let us eat in Jenny's room while we brainstormed and talked.

Dad had texted me at 8:45 to let me know he was on his way. Jenny and I snacked on leftover taco shells while we waited.

"Alyson, a truck just pulled up out front," Jenny's mother called.

I grabbed my backpack and walked to the living room as she opened the front door. I wasn't sure if Dad was going to get out and come to the door or not, but I knew he didn't really like to make small talk with strangers.

Jenny looked out the front door. "Wow, that's a big truck!"

"Yeah, that's my Dad. Thanks for dinner, Mrs. Bragg. See you tomorrow, Jenny!"

"See ya!" Jenny waved as I opened the door of Dad's truck.

I climbed into the cab. "Hi, Dad."

"How did it go?"

"Good, we got a lot of work done." I buckled my seatbelt.

"That's good." He looked into the rear view mirror as he pulled away from the curb.

"Thanks for letting me, y'know, go to her house and all."

He nodded, and then glanced at me. "You've got a lot of friends."

I shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Being in choir helped with that."

"I'm proud of you. That you're so dedicated to your schoolwork, and that you've got friends to work with."

I blushed, feeling happy inside. "Uh, thanks." It was rare to hear any kind of praise from Dad.

The radio was playing a classic rock station and I turned it up and sang along to The Beatles and Bad Company as we drove home.

He parked the truck in the driveway and then turned to me, holding his hand out. I looked at him with confusion.

"Give me your phone." He said.

"But—but Dad-" I was expecting to be able to continue texting Jenny after I got home.

"Do you remember what I said? You lose the phone when you get home from school. I let you have it to go to your friend's house, now you have to give it to me."

I frowned, reaching into the pocket of my backpack. I yanked the phone out and slammed it into his hand. "Here!"

He grabbed my wrist with his other hand. "Young lady, I suggest you stow the attitude, now. I'm not putting up with anything else from you tonight."

I sighed, dropping my eyes to my lap.

Dad let me go after a moment, and we got out of the car. The warm feeling I had gotten from his earlier praise was now gone.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn

The next day when I got home from school, Dean was the only one there. The weapons duffle was on the floor next to the coffee table and the knives were all spread out. Dean had the sharpening tool and a knife in his hands.

"Hey, how was school?" He looked up and smiled at me.

I dropped my backpack on the floor. "It was okay. Where's Dad and Sam?"

He set the knife down on the table. "They went somewhere to pick up some reference books, won't be home till late. So it's just you and me, kid. Want to order some pizzas?"

"Sure." I sat next to him.

He leaned back and put his arm along the back of the sofa. "We can order from that Italian- Greek place and get some soda and their 'Death by Chocolate' cake for dessert, go wild. You want that?" He played with a strand of my hair.

"I guess."

"You want some fries, or a shake? C'mon, it'll be like old times."

"Okay, Dean." I looked at him. "Fries and chocolate cake."

He smiled at me again. "That's my girl." He pulled out his cell phone and placed an order, then packed up the weapons duffle.

I got out my homework and did most of it while we waited. I pulled out my cell phone and handed it to him with a sigh, and he set it on the side table next to the sofa.

Dean paid for our food and then spread it out on the coffee table while I brought plates and silverware from the kitchen.

I sat down and grabbed a slice of pizza as he clicked the remote.

"Look what I found!" He said happily. It was an old episode of Scooby-Doo, one of the long episodes that was like a mini-movie. We watched it together, laughing at how simple the plot was and how easy it was to figure out the mystery. My brothers and I had watched Scooby-Doo together throughout my childhood, and it was a good memory. It made me feel nostalgic again.

Dean seemed to be feeling that way too. He was looking at me with a little smile on his lips.

"What?"

"I was just remembering when you were a toddler... whenever we'd get into a new motel room, you'd jump on the bed and sing "Cooby-cooby-do, weh ah you'." He chuckled, shaking his head. "You associated being in a motel room with watching the show."

"It was always on in the afternoons, and I'd watch it with you and Sam."

"Yeah," He got a faraway look in his eyes, and then laughed. "You said 'Crappy Doo' when you were that age, and I didn't get in trouble with Dad for that, since it was a character on a show!" Dean had always used colorful language and I had repeated a lot of what he said when I was small, which got him in trouble with our Dad.

He leaned forward and picked up his soda can, lifting and stretching his other arm out.

"How's your shoulder?" I asked.

"It's getting there. It's stiff in the morning, and I want to start exercising it, but Sam's probably going to tell me it needs to heal more. He's probably going to gripe at me for sharpening the knives, but I wanted to do something."

"At least it's getting better." I smiled at him, gathering my courage. I was going to tell him about my dream. "Dean, what if—if someone had information about a hunt and they didn't tell you?"

He looked at me curiously. "Well, I think I'd be pretty pissed off. What's this about?"

I looked down at my plate, held in my lap. "I, um, I-"

Dean's phone rang. He held up one finger to me, and answered it. It was Sam, calling to tell him they'd be back in the morning.

Dean disconnected the call and slid his phone back in his pocket. "What were you gonna say?"

I had lost my courage. "Nothing." I shook my head. "It was just a dumb dream is all, and dreams can't come true, right?"

He looked at me closely. "Uhh—I guess."

My phone chimed, and I leaned over and looked at the screen. Haley was texting me.

Dean leaned over, grabbing my phone off of the table, and pushed me away when I tried to take it back.

"Dean, give it!"

He easily held me off with one hand, reading the text out loud. "'Talked to Rachel tonight, she says she heard that someone might like me' —OOF!" I elbowed Dean in the side and snatched my phone.

"Why you little—c'mere!" He caught me as I tried to get up and yanked me back onto the sofa, holding me down and tickling me mercilessly.

After a couple of minutes I was panting and breathless from laughing, and he let me up.

"All right, go get ready for bed now." He shoved the back of my head. "And gimme your phone."

I huffed at him and handed him my phone, then picked up his plate and set it on mine. "I'll clean this up first."

"No, you go on, I got this." He smiled at me. "I had fun with you tonight, Aly."

"Me too, Dean." I leaned over and hugged him.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

Haley pulled me into the row of bookshelves, waving her phone at me. "I got a text from Marissa, she said her brother and his friends are coming here!" She hissed excitedly.

I was at the library with my friends, supposedly gathering information for a paper I was writing.

"Now?" I asked.

She nodded. "Soon! Let's go to the bathroom so that I can check my eyeliner."

Haley liked Marissa's older brother, and we were thinking that the feeling was mutual, but we weren't sure.

We started to walk down the row again when Sam came in, holding a scrap of paper.

"Oh, what are you two doing in the Weather and Meteorological Phenomena Aisle?" He smiled at me.

"Nothing." I said, and Haley giggled. I made a face as we left the aisle- Sam had insisted on driving me to the library and then he had stayed, saying he had some things to look up. I'd been trying my hardest to avoid him this whole time.

We stopped by the table and grabbed our purses. While we were in the bathroom, Haley applied some blush and light pink lipstick to my face when she re-applied her own makeup.

We tried to act casual on the way back to the bookshelves. Jenny hurried over to us. "I just saw Bennett and Marc and Paul!"

"Did Ben ask about me?" Haley batted her eyelashes.

"I didn't talk to them, I just-"

"Hello, ladies." A voice said behind us. All three of us turned together.

Ben and Marc stood there, backpacks slung over their right shoulders.

Marc is supposedly one of the heart-throbs of the school, but I don't think so. "I don't see any ladies here." He joked.

"Shut up!" Jenny smacked Marc's arm and he grinned at her. They've known each other for a long time and were close friends.

"So...any of you going to the game next week?" Ben asked.

"Maybe..." Haley looked into Ben's eyes.

"Cool... there's a get-together at Paul's after, you goin'?" Ben tried to look casual.

"Umm...I hadn't heard about it, so..." Haley's cheeks got pink.

"Well, uh, you wanna—you wanna go with me?" Ben rubbed the back of his neck and glanced around. "I mean, all of you are invited, y'know-"

Marc rolled his eyes. "Oh for God's sake, Ben, just ask her outright!" He punched Ben's bicep, and then looked at Haley. "Would you do this gentleman the honor of attending the after game soiree in his presence, next Friday eve?" He said in a pretend posh English accent. He waved at Jenny. "You riff-raff are invited as well."

"Oh, you!" Jenny rushed at him, throwing a pretend punch, and Haley let out a little scream.

"Shhh!" An older librarian glared at us over her reading glasses.

I walked back over to our table. Sam was standing there, paging through a notebook.

I realized he was looking through my stuff. "Hey, what are you doing?" I asked irritably.

He looked up at me. "These are your notes? They're not real detailed."

"So? That's why I'm here, I'm getting more information for my paper!"

He raised his eyebrows. "Seems like you're here to gossip and goof around with your friends, not work."

I snatched my notebook up. "Thanks, but I don't recall asking for your help. And I don't need you bothering me about my friends either!"

He glanced at his watch. "Well, you'd better buckle down and get some real work done, we only have about 20 minutes left."

"Aww, Sam! Why do we have to leave then?"

"Dad's rules, you know that. The library's only open for a half hour after anyway."

"Dad's rules suck." I groused.

Sam tapped the back of my head. "They keep you safe, so no complaining. Get to work."

"Sir, yes sir," I mocked, giving him a salute. He gave me a look, and then walked away.

Jenny came hurrying over. "Haley said that Ben was hinting that some of his friends might be interested in her friends!" She grabbed my arm. "I think that means us! Wouldn't it be cool to go to that party with a date?"

"Yeah, I guess." I shrugged off her arm.

She peered at me. "What's wrong?"

I huffed. "My big brother was bugging me about doing my work. So I've gotta find some more sources before I leave."

She made a face. "Yeah, big brothers are obnoxious. Mine's always trying to tell me what to do, I'm like 'you're not the boss of me!'"

"Well unfortunately, my big brothers are like my bosses, they get left in charge when my dad—when he travels, y'know?"

"It's kinda like you have three dads. That must suck!" She said with chagrin.

"Yeah, it kinda does, sometimes." I picked up my notebook and walked over to a computer to look up more books.

In the car on the way home, Sam started grilling me on my paper. "What class is it for?"

"Social Studies."

"When is it due?"

"Next week."

"You haven't even started an outline, are you sure you've got enough time?"

"Yes, Sam, geez!"

He looked over at me. "I'm just trying to help."

I threw a glare at him. "No you're not, you—you're just trying to boss me around!"

"I'm trying to keep you on track-"

"I don't need your help!"

"Alyson-"

"Just leave me alone!" I folded my arms and turned to stare out the window.

When we walked in, I slung my backpack onto the floor. Dean looked up from the couch. "Hey, how'd it go?"

"It was fine, until Sam started to get on my case!" I complained.

Sam tossed the keys to Dean, who caught them out of the air. "I was just trying to help-"

"I don't need your help, that's why I was with my friends!" I snapped.

Dean was staring at me. "Looks like your friends were helping with more than just homework. Are you wearing lipstick?"

"I-" I had totally forgotten about it. "Yeah, so?" I tried to wipe my lips.

"Didn't I say no make-up?" Dad rumbled. I turned- he had come into the room from the kitchen.

"No—well, yeah, but you just- you yelled at me and said I was too young, last time. You never made a rule about it!" I flared.

He crossed over to me. "Well, I'm making a rule now. You are not to wear makeup until you're older-"

"How much older? I'm not a kid, Dad!" I objected.

"You don't need-"

I clenched my hands into fists. "Lots of girls wear makeup at my age! It's not a big deal! Why do you have to be like this!"

He glared down at me. "Because I make the rules, that's why! I said no makeup, and that's final! Do you understand?"

I set my jaw and glared back at him.

His voice dropped a notch. "I said, do you understand?"

When I didn't respond, he grabbed my arm and turned me, landing a couple of hard swats on my butt.

I gasped and reached back to cover my behind. "Yes, I understand!"

He loomed over me, still glaring down at me. "Make sure you follow the rules, young lady."

He let me go, and I turned and ran to my room.

I was half- expecting Sam to come in and try and make nice like he usually did, but he didn't. I tried to organize my notes for my paper, but I couldn't stop thinking about what had happened with my friends at the library. I got ready for bed without saying anything to anyone.

I was almost asleep when there was a tap on my door. I heard it swing open, and then a voice. "Aly?" Dean said quietly. "Huh, guess she's down for the count. Think she's mad at us?" His voice was hushed.

"She got kinda pissy with me earlier, I don't know. She's all over the place lately." Sam replied quietly.

Dean sighed. "I hope nothing's going on with her."

I heard the door click shut a moment later.

"Rise and shine, kiddo!" There was a sharp rap on the door, and the overhead light came on. "Get up, you're gonna be late for school!" Dean said loudly.

I rolled over and opened my eyes, crying out- the movement and the light both made my head hurt. I put my hand up to cover my eyes.

"What's wrong?" Dean asked.

"Oohhh, my head, it hurts." I moaned. "Turn off the light!"

I heard his footsteps leave the room. I spread my fingers slightly and peeked out- he had turned the light off.

I put my hand down as Dad came into the room, followed by my brothers, who stood near the doorway.

Dad put his palm on my forehead. "No fever...describe the pain."

"My head—there's pressure inside, the light makes my eyes hurt and everything seems loud, it feels like there's a hammer inside hitting my brain."

"When did it start?"

"I dunno- when Dean woke me up."

He nodded. "It's been a while, but it sounds like one of your headaches. I'll get some medicine for you."

Sam brought the trash can over and set it next to the bed. "Just in case."

"I'm not feeling sick." I told him.

They left the room, and I closed my eyes. Images and feelings from an earlier dream came back, dark shadows moving, a sense of pressure and anxiety-

"Alyson."

I cracked an eye open and looked up- Dad stood by my bed holding a glass of water.

I propped myself up on my elbow, wincing as my head pounded from the change in position. He handed me some pills and the water, and I took them and drank half the glass. I set it on my bedside table.

"I called school and let them know that you'd be out today." He told me.

"Thanks." I laid down, wincing again as I settled my head on the pillow.

He looked down at me. "Well-"

All of a sudden, I wanted him there. I reached out and grabbed his sleeve. "Would you- stay- with me?"

"Uh, sure." He sat down on the edge of the bed. "What's- I thought you'd want Sammy here to rub your head like he does."

"No, I just- can you sit here for a little bit?" I remembered when I was very small, how it would make me feel better to know he was nearby.

"All right." He began to stroke my hair back from my forehead, and the repetitive motion soothed me.

"Scoot over." He said, and I moved over. He turned, sitting up against the headboard, and put his arm around my shoulder. I put my head on his thigh, and he continued to stroke my hair and run his fingers through it. It felt good to have Dad comforting me. Eventually I drifted back to sleep.

I woke up alone. My head was pounding, and I rolled over and reached for the glass of water on my table. I groped around, feeling the wood of the table, and squinted my eye open. I grabbed the glass and brought it over, spilling some on myself as I tried to drink.

I finished the water, my throat still feeling dry as dust. I slowly got out of bed, dizziness overtaking me as I walked across the room. I lurched into the hallway and called out, "Sam! Dean!"

Sam appeared at the end of the hallway. "Whoa, are you okay?"

I leaned against the wall. "M' thirsty." I held up the glass.

"Let's get you back to bed." Sam put his arm around my waist and walked me back to my room, tucking me into bed.

He brought me more water and made soup for me. I stayed in bed the rest of the day, and Dad brought me more soup and medicine for dinner.

I woke up in the dark, needing to go to the bathroom. I shuffled down the hall and stopped when I heard a thump like a book being closed.

Sam said, "I think you owe us an explanation. We've been doing all this work collecting information for you-" His voice was tense.

"I don't owe either of you anything." Dad said, almost angrily.

I stepped closer to the end of the hallway and held my breath, listening.

"Dad, come on, we're adults now, don't you think you'd be better served cluing us in?" Sam asked.

"I'm still trying to figure things out. And I want to keep you safe."

Dean chuckled dryly. "Dad, all due respect but, uh, that's a bunch of crap."

Dad's voice was stern. "Excuse me?"

Dean took a deep breath. "You know what Sammy and me have been hunting. Hell, you sent us on a few hunting trips yourself. You can't be that worried about keeping us safe."

I heard a sound like shuffling papers. "It's not the same thing, Dean. Once I have all the information gathered, then I'll explain everything to you." Dad said reasonably.

"You always say that!" Sam exclaimed. "You want everything to be just so, but it never works that way, there's always more to learn. We can help you if we know all the facts, you'll have three heads working on everything instead of just yourself."

"Sam-"

Sam interrupted Dad. "The problem is that you're such a control freak-"

"Sam!" Dean interjected.

"A good hunter gathers as much intel as possible before a hunt, you know that. Now, I've been after this damn thing for over a decade, and I want to make absolutely sure that I've got everything in place so that I can get it, once and for all." I heard the clink of a glass hitting the table.

Now Dean's voice was reasonable."You don't have to do everything alone, Dad. Sammy and me'll help you with anything, you know that. And if we know what we're looking for, that'll speed up the process."

I heard more shuffling papers. "All right." Dad sighed. "Let me go get the other duffle with all my notes." I heard footsteps coming towards the hall, and I hurried over to the bathroom door.

I rubbed my eyes and yawned widely as Dad came to the end of the hall. "Alyson, what are you doing up?"

"Mm, hafta go to the bathroom," I mumbled, looking down at the floor as I walked into the bathroom and closed the door.