Chapter Seven

Blood. There was blood. And pain. She felt pain, moving through every part of her body. Sometimes there was white noise, drowning out every sound, human and inhuman, even the screams. Other times, she could hear everything, every sound imaginable. She heard voices, but not the voice she wanted to hear. She kept seeing a white light, bright, almost blinding. Each time she tried to step into the light she was dragged back, air flooding her lungs, her heartbeat restored.

First came the pain, then the white light, then the brutal reawakening. Over and over until she didn't think she could handle anymore. The final time the pain came, it was so excruciating that she was forced awake. That was when she saw Dean, saw the terror in his eyes. No, her mind protested, he couldn't see this. It would tear him apart. Then he was there, next to her, holding her. She tried to talk, but nothing would come out. Then the pain came again, so unbearable that she let herself slip away, turning to the white light. She prayed that this time, it would let her stay.

Screams, all she heard were screams. Ear-splitting agonizingly painful screams torn from a tortured soul with no hope of respite. The hunter in her wanted to help the screamer, but another part of her, a part she didn't recognize, was enjoying the screams, thriving on them, feeding off of them. She tossed and turned where she lay, trying to cover her ears, trying to block out the sounds of the screamer. Strong hands grasped her wrists, trying to pull them away from her ears.

She yanked away, her skin burning in pain as she did. The screams continued, but this time when she covered her ears, the sudden echo made her realize that the screams were coming from her. Confused, she swallowed back another one, her raw throat aching. She hitched in a desperate breath. Her hands shook and tears fell from her eyes. She needed to stop.

Muscular arms wrapped themselves around her, but every touch felt like fire against her skin, so she fought against them, thrashing and kicking. She felt soft lips against her forehead and heard quiet murmurings from a low, raspy voice. She stopped, listening.

"I'm here, baby, I'm right here," she heard the voice whisper. It was familiar, she recognized it and somehow, she knew that it was safe. She relaxed and let the owner of the voice hold her, soothing her, calming her down. The white light washed over her again and she slept.


"What the hell, Sam? Why did you bring her here?" Amie could hear Dean talking to his brother, even though it was obvious he was trying to be quiet.

"She doesn't have anywhere to go. She has no one. She was possessed by a demon, taken by angels and her parents were killed by the damn angels. She's scared and right now, I'm the only person she trusts," she heard Sam reply. "She's staying here. Get over it!"

Amie shifted slightly on the bed, the rough motel sheets scratching at her skin. The boys were arguing and she should step in, play referee like she always did, find out who this "she" they were discussing was. She tried to sit up, but she felt out of whack, off-kilter for some reason.

"Shit," she heard Dean mumble, then the distinct clunk of his boots as he crossed the room. The bed dipped as he sat next to her, his arm sliding around her back. "Hey baby," he said, kissing her forehead.

"What is going on?" she asked. Her voice cracked as she spoke and she couldn't get any louder than a faint whisper. Her throat ached like she'd been yelling for days. She gestured for the water bottle she saw on the table behind Dean.

He handed it to her and helped her sit up all the way. She took a couple of deep breaths trying to keep the nausea she felt at bay. She took several small sips of the water before setting it between her legs.

"Do you remember what happened?" Dean asked.

Amie tried to work her way back, sorting memories from dreams and hallucinations. Unfortunately, she wasn't completely sure what was real and what wasn't.

"I remember you and me in the Impala, getting knocked out, angels, and a white light. It was dark, like no daylight dark, like maybe we were underground or something. I thought I saw you, but I can't remember for sure. I remember pain and blood," she recalled. She drank some more water, trying to ease the burn in her throat. "That's it, that's all I remember."

She tried to run her fingers through her hair, but it was filthy and knotted. "I need a shower," she grimaced.

"Yeah, as soon as our guest comes out of the bathroom," Dean muttered unhappily.

Sam shot a glare at him from the other side of the room, where he stood by the bathroom door.

"We have a guest?" Amie whispered.

Just then a short brunette came out of the bathroom. She was only a couple of inches shorter than Amie, but she was at least a foot shorter than Sam. Her dark brown hair fell to her waist and she had big, brown eyes. She stared around the room, looking like a lost child. She kept herself behind Sam, one hand gripping his arm.

"Amie, this is Shannon," Sam said, taking the woman's hand and pulling her out from behind him. "Shannon, that's Amie. She's my brother's girlfriend." Shannon looked up at him, a question in her eyes. Sam smiled at her. "I know it's hard to believe that someone that grouchy could have a girlfriend, but it's true. She's cool, I promise."

Amie tried to smile at the young woman, but she feared it came off as more of a grimace. Dean stood up and put his arms under her legs and around her back. He picked her up like she weighed nothing. He stomped past Sam and Shannon into the bathroom and kicked the door closed. He set her on the closed toilet and moved to turn on the water in the shower. Before he could, Amie grabbed his hand, forcing him to turn and look at her.

"You were being rude," she stated, her voice still not above a whisper. She pulled him down so they were face to face. "What's going on?"

"You don't remember her at all?" Dean asked.

When Amie shook her head, he proceeded to tell her everything that had happened under the church—how they had found her, the things that had been done to her, Shannon's part in it and how Castiel had healed her. She didn't remember any of it.

"But, why?" she inquired. "I don't understand what the angels were trying to accomplish."

Dean hesitated, but Amie could tell by the look on his face and his obvious reluctance to speak that he knew something. She squeezed his hand. "Tell me," she demanded.

"Cas knows about the prophecy. He knows what the paradox is and he thinks that you were taken in an effort to make sure it happens," Dean explained. He rubbed a hand over his face, watching Amie. She didn't say anything. She knew if she waited, he would tell her.

Dean blew out a long breath. "The paradox we create, the one the prophecy is predicting, well, it's a baby. One belonging to you and me."

Amie had read books and seen movies in which people were so stunned they were speechless or their mouths dropped open, but she hadn't actually thought it was possible. Not until it happened to her anyway. She felt her mouth fall open and she literally had nothing to say. Her mind was blank as she tried to process what Dean had said.

Dean stood up, attempting to pace in the small bathroom. When it didn't work, he stopped and ran a hand through his hair. He leaned against the bathroom sink, arms crossed over his chest. "Yeah, a baby. I'm the father, you're the mother. Hence, we create it. Or him, or her." He sighed audibly. "Whatever."

Several minutes passed as Amie sat staring into space, unable to put her thoughts into words. Dean watched her, impatiently tapping his fingers against his arm and fidgeting. When he obviously couldn't stand the silence any longer, he crouched in front of her again and took her hands in his, rubbing his thumbs over her knuckles.

"Amie, honey, say something," he begged.

She leaned forward and kissed him gently on the lips. "I need a shower. Help me, will you?" she said. "I'm still feeling a little out of it."

Dean nodded and stood up. He turned the shower on, then turned back to Amie. He helped her out of her clothes, then pulled his own off. He carefully lifted her into the shower, then stepped in behind her. Amie managed to clean herself up, with Dean there to keep her from falling over. She wasn't sure 'out of it' was a completely accurate description of how she really felt. She was fluctuating between feeling dizzy and feeling perfectly normal. It seemed to switch gears so quickly that she couldn't predict from second to second how she was going to feel. Her skin seemed extremely sensitive as well—the water stung as it hit her, the sheets on the bed had felt too rough, and earlier when Dean had touched her it had felt like she was on fire. Also, her emotions were all over the place. She wanted to laugh, cry, or scream in anger, all at once, with no provocation.

When she was finished, she leaned against Dean, suddenly exhausted. He reached behind her and turned off the water, then he wrapped a towel around her. She dried herself off carefully, mindful of her overly sensitive skin. Dean dried himself off and pulled on his jeans before lifting her out of the shower and helping her sit down again.

"I'll grab you some clothes," he said as he pulled open the bathroom door.

While she waited for Dean, she used the brush she found on the counter to comb out her wet hair and put it in a braid. By the time she was done, he was back with her shorts and one of his t-shirts for her to wear. She grinned as she took it from him.

"This isn't mine," she pointed out. "Did I mysteriously run out of clothes?"

He laughed and kissed her on the end of her nose. "Nope, I just like it when you wear my stuff." He took her hand and opened the door. "Come on, let's get to know Sam's new friend."


Shannon was young, really young. She was only twenty-five, about five years younger than Sam, which made her nine years younger than Dean. And since Amie was older than Dean, that made her about thirteen years older than Shannon.

"I feel old," she muttered.

"I'm sorry," Shannon said. "What did you say?"

Amie laughed. "Sorry, I said I feel old. It's been a long time since I was as young as you."

Shannon blushed and looked away, her fingers fiddling with the edge of the blanket that was covering her lap. Ever since Sam had left with Dean to get food, she'd been huddled in the corner of the couch, watching the door. Amie had been trying to talk to her, but she felt like she wasn't getting anywhere. She decided to try another tactic.

She stood up carefully—her balance was still wacky—and crossed to the couch. She sat in the opposite corner from Shannon, her feet curled under her. She set her gun and angel blade on the scratched coffee table. Shannon eyed them warily.

"Sorry," Amie said quietly. "I promised Dean I'd keep them close while he was gone." She watched the young woman out of the corner of her eye. "Have you ever fired a gun?"

Shannon shook her head vehemently. "I've never even touched one. I don't know anything about guns or knives or stuff like that. Only what I've read in books. I'm a librarian, I read a lot," she explained, somewhat defensively. She sat up a little straighter, tucking the blanket around her legs.

"I was a teacher," Amie offered. "For about, hmmm, six or seven years I guess. I loved it. I miss it sometimes."

"Really? You were a teacher?' Shannon asked. "So how did you end up doing this?" She gestured around the room as she spoke.

"I grew up in the life. My father was a hunter—that's what we're called, by the way. Only we don't hunt normal things. I left the life when I was in my late teens, but after my husband and son were killed, I came back so I could hunt the monster that killed them. That was three years ago," Amie explained. "You've probably figured out that the things that go bump in the night, well, they're real. And the boys and I, that's what we hunt."

"Have long have you known Sam and Dean?" Shannon inquired. "Have you and Dean been together for a long time?"

Amie laughed. "I've known the boys for a couple of years. But Dean and I, we've only been together a couple of months, I guess. Not long."

Shannon smiled. "Wow, I would have guessed longer. You two seem so right together, so in sync with each other, it's like you've been together forever."

"Like we're destined to be together, right?" Amie joked, though she didn't find it funny. She decided they needed to talk about something else. "What's up with you and Sam?" The other Winchester seemed liked a good subject to discuss.

Amie could have sworn she saw Shannon blush. She immediately started picking at the blanket as she talked. "Ever since he saved my life, I feel a connection to him. I trust him."

Amie nodded along as Shannon talked. Dean had told her most of this earlier, when Sam and Shannon had gone to collect some of her things from her parents' house. Once they had found Amie, Sam had decided to stay behind and exorcise the demon from the young woman. Castiel had helped him. After the demon was gone, apparently Shannon had freaked out and latched onto Sam, because he had saved her. They had eventually learned she had been possessed by the demon for quite a while when the angels had captured her and taken her. It looked like her parents had been killed by angels. When Sam had found out that she had no family left and no one she could turn to, he hadn't been able to leave her. He and Dean had already had several heated discussions about her while they stood outside and Amie guessed that their trip to get food was merely a ruse so that they could hash it out once and for all.

Shannon had stopped talking and gone back to staring at the door. Amie smiled to herself. It looked like the younger Winchester had an admirer. Maybe she'd help things along a little.

"Sam's pretty great. He's a really good guy," she pointed out. "And he's not bad looking either."

Shannon nodded, a small smile on her face. "He is pretty attractive," she giggled. "But he's also really sweet. He's been so helpful since…well, since all of this." She turned to Amie, her face suddenly serious. "What happens now?"

Amie shrugged, unable to give the girl a clear cut answer. "I wish I could tell you. But that's kind of up to you. Some people go back to their lives, I guess, but others, I don't know, they don't handle it so well. Everyone's different."

Shannon nodded, her eyes filling with tears. Amie scooted closer to her on the couch and put a hand on her knee. She didn't say anything, she just let her cry. When Amie heard the unmistakable sound of the Impala outside, she handed Shannon a tissue and patted her leg. "We'll figure it out, don't worry," she whispered.

The Winchester brothers came through the door in a rush of noise. They were arguing, but Amie could tell immediately that it wasn't serious, just them throwing verbal jabs and barbs at each other. Shannon looked a little nervous, her eyes flicking back and forth from brother to brother, not quite sure what was going on. Amie laughed and gave her a wink, mouthing 'it's okay' as she did.

She patted Shannon's leg one last time, stood up carefully and crossed the room to Dean. He immediately dropped the bag he was holding on the table and wrapped his arms around her, lifting her off of her feet to kiss her.

"Hey baby," he smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"Okay, I guess," she answered.

Dean set her down gingerly, but he kept a hold of her hand. With the other hand, he pulled food from the greasy bags on the table, occasionally shoving a French fry in his mouth. He pulled a chair out from the table for Amie, then he sat in a chair next to her and grabbed a burger.

Sam had gone directly to Shannon when he came in the door. He was perched on the edge of the couch, close to her, yet not so close as to make her uncomfortable. She was looking up at him as he spoke and Amie could tell by the look on her face that she was falling and falling hard for him.

Amie pulled her chair closer to Dean's, leaning over to talk to him. "So, what's up? Did you guys come to any sort of agreement?"

Dean nodded, his mouth full of food. "It's basically up to her. If she wants to go with us back to the bunker, she can. If she wants to stay here or whatever, than that's cool, too." Dean glanced over at his brother. "I've never seen him like this. I honestly think if I hadn't agreed to let her go with us, he would have beat the shit out of me. I did have to convince him to leave the decision up to her, though."

Amie smiled at him. He was always so oblivious. "He likes her, you big goof. Just look at him. It's kind of cute." She put her head against Dean's shoulder as a wave of dizziness and nausea washed over her. She felt a shudder go through her.

He wrapped an arm around her back and dropped his burger to the table. "You alright?" he asked.

"It may be a while before she is right again, Dean," Amie heard Castiel say from behind them. She jumped slightly in her chair, as did Dean. She heard a squeak of terror from Shannon.

"God dammit, Cas, it sure the hell didn't take you long to slip into your old habits," Dean stammered. "I hate it when you do that!"

Castiel at least had the decency to look slightly ashamed. "I am sorry." He sat on the end of the bed. "But I needed to speak to you. And Amie."

"Okay, talk," Dean said, exasperation with his best friend evident in his voice.

Castiel looked at Amie. "Have you and Dean had intercourse since you returned?"

"Jesus Christ, Cas…" Dean muttered under his breath. "Are you fucking kidding me? It's called tact."

Amie squeezed Dean's hand and shook her head. "No, Castiel, we haven't. Why do you ask?" This was potentially the most awkward conversation she had ever had—discussing her sex life with an angel, who happened to be her boyfriend's best friend. The fact that she still wasn't sure if she even liked Castiel didn't make it any easier.

"I was curious if it might be possible that you could be pregnant since I last saw you. I have been trying to find any information I can about your child and the potential powers it could have," Castiel explained.

Amie sat forward in her chair. "Did you find anything?"

"Not yet, no," Castiel shook his head. "No one seems to know what powers it is that this child could have, or what they could be used for, or if it could truly be used as a weapon. We do not know anything. I do know that the demon blood and the angel blood they put in your system is part of it, as is the fact that the angels were repeatedly killing you and bringing you back. I just don't know how it all works together. We may have no way of knowing until the child is actually born."

Amie shuddered again, a chill working its way through her. "Well, I'm not pregnant and even if I was, it would be a while before the baby came along. We have time. We'll just take precautions until we can find out more."

"I think until we know more, you and Dean should abstain completely from any type of sexual relations," Castiel said calmly. Amie could have sworn he almost looked happy about it.

Dean's head shot up and his eyes widened. "Um, I don't think so. We can use protection…"

Castiel interrupted him. "No, Dean, you don't understand. The angels will stop at nothing to make sure this child is born. It's best if you just stay away from Amie for now."

Amie felt Dean's hand tighten on her waist. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He did not look happy. This was not going to be fun. For either of them.