Allison walks into the bar with Dean and Sam at her back, she being thankful for the low light all bars tend to have. For one, the angelic hand print is still visible on her arm though it's not as dark as it once was, and another because she's for sure going to bruise around her neck and is positive she has dirt smudges on her face.

Speaking of bruising, however, she gently massages both sides of her neck as she glances over her shoulder at Sam. "I hate witches."

Sam's lips twitch and Dean outright laughs. His hands clamp down on Allison's shoulders and she grimaces before looking forward as Dean steers her. "Hey, we all made it out alive so no complainin'. It ain't a hunt if you don't get thrown into a wall or a tree or a car."

As the trio find themselves a nice little booth, Dean pushes Allison into one side and slides in next her, he letting Sam take the the side opposite them but not before instructing Sam to get the first round of drinks. "Can't let the lightweight take advantage of my little brother again," he muses. Allison snorts though her cheeks tint pink, and Sam rolls his eyes before departing to get their beers. "And also, my glare's a lot meaner than Sammy's. I'm not liking all the stares you're getting," Dean then grumbles. "Stupid Charlie and her inappropriate clothing."

This time, Allison laughs. Her black Gypsy Cami top with shoulder cut-outs is rather tame, especially since it's paired with black denim high waisted shorts, black checkered tights, and steampunk wedge ankle boots. "Relax," she grins. "Majority of the clothing Charlie keeps sending to the bunker are for actual undercover missions- her words, not mine- but she did say that I could wear whatever caught my attention. This is the most skin I'll ever show outside of the bunker."

"Good."

"And besides," she continues. "I have to show off my tattoo. I did get it for a reason, you know. To show off."

Dean huffs as he glances at said arrow tattoo on the back of her bicep, he then smirking at the ink she's proudly displaying. Dean gets comfortable, stripping out of his outer jacket and Allison sits with her back against the wall. Sam soon returns with a tray of beers and shots, and the trio are soon drinking their beer as if it were water and laughing about their hunt from earlier that night.

They decide to leave before anyone is truly tipsy and as Dean heads to the bar to pay for their tab, Allison links arms with Sam and heads for the exit. The parking lot is empty, so Sam's not too embarrassed when he trips over a cement car stop. Allison steps aside and laughs at his misfortune, only as she keeps taking steps she bumps into someone.

"Sorry. I'm sorry," she laughs without really looking at the person she's hit.

She briefly glances up at the tall, muscled man clad in a leather jacket, her eyes roaming over him distractedly as he mumbles something back that sounds like don't worry about it. When she tries to step back towards Sam, however, all amusement flees when a hand clamps around her wrist.

"Allison?" She's immediately scowling since the man has put his hands on her, but the use of her name has her freezing like a deer in headlights. She sees anger quickly morph in Sam's features, followed by fear as he too freezes. "Allison Argent?"

She finally glances at the man, the emotion in his cracking voice intriguing her enough to answer him. "Yeah?" Half the man's face is covered in a closely shaven beard, the hair atop his head cropped short yet still long enough to be decently styled. When she meets his wide-eyed gaze, pain explodes within her brain.

Her eyes flutter shut and she sways, but Sam lunges forward to steady her. He yanks her arm free from the stranger's grasp and pulls Allison back, but Allison's mumbling stops him. "No. Don't," she whimpers. Her hands fly up to her temples as her breathing stutters, she weakly trying to point at the stranger. "I- I know him. How do- how do I know him? Der-" Her eyes clamp shut and she groans in pain, and both the man and Sam stop glaring at one another in favor of glancing down at Allison. She whimpers in pain, her knees finally giving out and after crying out at one particular wave of pain, and she goes quiet and limp as Sam easily heaves her up into his arms.

"Whoa, what's going on out here?" Dean's voice startles the guy from his shocked demeanor, the confusion turning to anger within the blink of the eye.

"Who the hell are you people and what are you doing with Allison?" The man demands.

"Whaattt?" Dean's gobsmacked expression is almost comical, but given the circumstance, no one's laughing.

"That girl," the man nearly snarls. Scratch that, he actually does snarl which has the brothers suddenly tensing. "-is supposed to be dead. I attended her funeral."

Sam takes another step back with a passed out Allison in his arms, and Dean steps in front of them to shield them from this new guy. "Whoa, buddy, just take a breath and step back. You've got the wrong person."

"Bullshit." And yep. His eyes are most definitely glowing blue now. "Allison Argent is supposed to be dead and if you used dark magic to bring back that girl-" he now points a really pointy clawed finger in Allison's direction. "-I'm gonna rip your throat out.. with my teeth."

Dean whips out a gun, taking aim just as the guy cracks his neck and roars something fierce, his face completely transformed and threatening. "Dude.. you fugly."

"Dean, his eyes," Sam gulps. "Remember what Allison said about blue eyes?"

Dean seems to snap out of his blatant studying of the man's features, his grip tightening on the gun and jaw clenching in anger. "How the hell does a monster like you go up against a Hunter and keep your life?"

"You don't get to ask questions," the man growls. "Not until you tell me what you're doing with a supposed dead girl. I'm sure Chris- her father- has no idea that you're running around with his daughter while he still grieves to this day."

Dean's eyes narrow as he continues to stare down the apparent werewolf before him, he eventually huffing. "You seem awful chummy with a pair of werewolf Hunters; throwing around their names as if it'll save your life."

The guy's nose twitches as his gaze settles on the gun aimed at his chest, the corner of his lips ticking upward. Crossing his arms over his chest, the man eases his stance and his supernatural features fade away until he looks human once more. "And you seem awful confident that a plain bullet will do much damage. You're not packing wolfsbane, Hunter, so you've no room to threaten."

Dean's eye twitches and as the seconds tick by, he too eases his stance and lowers his weapon. "Fair enough." Glancing over his shoulder, Dean meets his brother's worried gaze. "Put the kid in the car. This guy seems he knows the family and given the circumstances, he needs to know certain things."

"Or you can just tell me right now before I call Mr. Argent," the man grumbles. "Allison deserves to be at peace after all that's happened and you two jackasses pulled her from it."

The threat hangs in the air even as Dean mutters, "Sonnuvabitch," with a glare directed at the man, but the familiar flutter of wings has the tension easing in his shoulders.

"Mr. Hale," Castiel's gravelly voice sounds. "-you're not supposed to be here."

Situation seemingly in hand, Sam finally moves to hurriedly put Allison in the backseat of the Impala, but not before gaping at the name Cas used. Mr. Hale.

Dean, however, hears the name loud and clear and his narrowed gaze lands back on the werewolf. But before he can say anything, Mr. Hale is taking a threatening step towards Castiel. "What the hell are you?"

"I am an angel of the Lord."

Hale glowers at his answer, but neither wolf or angel break the stare. At least, not until Castiel seems to stand taller and make his presence so overwhelming that Hale actually flinches and steps back. Still looking grumpier than ever, Hale asks, "How did Allison end up here? And what happened to her just now?"

"Long story, wolf," Dean tells him. "But if you're actually interested, then you need to follow us back to our motel room. If not, then I gotta say that contacting Allison's father is a no-go."

"Yeah? And why's that?"

"Like Dean said," Castiel says. "-it's a long story. If you wish to know about Miss Argent's resurrection, then follow the brothers back to their place. We mean you or Allison no harm, Mr. Hale, but it is very important that you listen to what we're telling you. Allison must be the one to contact her family, but only when she's ready."

A tense moment of silence passes with Hale glowering at the three men before him. But when no more words are spoken, he seems to cave. "Once we get to your room, you have fifteen minutes to convince me to not contact that girl's father."

xXx

"So you mean to tell me that angels and demons exist, and that Allison was stuck in hell for over a hundred years?"

"Yes."

"And you rescued her, but some demon broke her mind, body and soul?"

"Basically."

"And the whole reason Allison's comatose is because her memories flooded her mind when she saw me? Explain that part again." Derek Hale is sitting on a wooden chair in front of the room's door, his gaze darting between the three men and Allison's vulnerable and unconscious form.

Dean sighs, he lounging back in his chair with his feet propped up atop the small kitchen table and beer in hand. "When the angels yanked the kid off the rack and brought her topside, her mind was a clean slate. Everything about Allison Argent was locked away behind a dam of sorts, but there was a crack in that dam that allowed Allison's memories to trickle through on their own. If she forced the memories, it caused her blinding pain which is why she's been hanging with us and didn't seek out anyone from her past."

"She's tried it once before," Sam then tells him. "Googling her name and family," he clarifies. "But all it did was give her a migraine and made her nightmares worse. So seeing you, an actual person from her past alive and breathing and actually touching her.. it demolished part of that dam," Sam says. "It was too much too soon and she blacked out from the pain of it all."

Derek pinches the bridge of his nose, his elbows resting on parted knees. "Will she remember me when she wakes or does her mind reset?"

"Why? Afraid she'll try and kill you?" Dean snarks. "We did research on the Argent name when Cas told us he'd be dropping her off. We know what Kate Argent did to your family." Derek's eyes snap open, his stare going cold and hard as Dean keeps talking. "Better yet, why do you care about the Argent's? How did a Hale land on first name basis with the family of the woman who murdered his family?"

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Then explain it to us. We're fine with letting a friend sit around to wait for Allison to wake, but if you're the enemy then there's no point in keeping you around. Cas can easily make you forget ever seeing her and send you on your merry way."

"That's not necessary." Derek glares at Dean, and Dean merely quirks an eyebrow at him.

"Good. Now tell us the real story with the Argent and Hale feud."

Derek growls, but manages to keep his transformation at bay. Minutes tick by with the four men sitting in silence and when it appears that Allison isn't waking any time soon, Derek caves. "I was in high school when I first met Allison's aunt, Kate, and she took an interest in me. To cut a super long and uncomfortable story short, Kate seduced me and learned all the secrets of my family. She waited until my family- my pack- was all in one location and barricaded the doors and windows with mountain ash to keep them locked in.

"I.. I snuck out late one night to see Kate after she texted me. I waited.. and waited and nothing. She never showed. I had a terrible feeling so I rushed back home, but by the time I got there, it was too late. My family home was on fire and the deputies were struggling to keep my eldest sister- who had also snuck out to see a boyfriend- from running into the burning home. We could- we could hear them screaming." Derek pauses, gulps, and shifts in his seat.

"The only survivor that we knew of then was my Uncle who managed to crawl out from a basement window they forgot to line with mountain ash. When my sister, Laura, inherited the alpha power after our mother passed, we put Uncle Peter into a long term patient care unit and left for New York."

"But you ended up back in Beacon Hills," Sam mutters. "Why?"

"Beacon Hills has always been Hale territory," Derek informs them with a shrug. "We've protected the town from evil for as long as I can remember, but when the Argent's decimated our family, we left. However, we started getting information about an Omega werewolf wreaking havoc, so Laura decided to pay the town a visit. When a week passed and I still hadn't gotten a call from my sister, I knew she was dead. I came back to avenge her death and found my sister cut in half.

"They made it seem like a Hunter killed my sister, but I knew it was that Omega who had killed my sister for her power. So instead of a regular Omega running around, we then had a rogue alpha who started killing and bit a teenager to start his very own pack. The teenager survived the bite and surprisingly fought against his alpha. As it turned out, the rogue alpha was my supposed comatose Uncle who killed his own niece for power to avenge our family."

"He was the one who ripped out Allison's aunt's throat," Sam realizes.

"Yes," Derek admits. "Kate sort of brain washed Allison that all werewolves were bad. Allison turned on me and her friends, and only realized her mistake when it was too late. Scott- the teenager my Uncle turned- fought to take Peter down, and in the end I ended up killing my Uncle to take the alpha power from him."

"Man, and I thought our family drama was bad," Dean says, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Yes, well, as it also turns out, Kate did not have permission to attack the Hale family. She went against the Hunter code- she and her father- so Chris didn't attack us back after his sister's death. We actually ended up forming a little alliance of sorts, but there was still bad blood between us through the years. It wasn't until the last year of Allison's life did we really settle down and put aside all of our past animosity."

"I want to believe you, I do," Dean states. "-but one part of your story isn't sitting right with me."

"What part?"

"The part where you said you killed your Uncle for the alpha power. If you took it, why are your eyes blue and not red?"

Cas remains quiet, listening intently to Derek's story while the brothers do all the talking-slash-interrogating.

"Remember when I said that my Uncle was the only survivor of the fire that we knew of then?" At two simultaneous nods, Derek continues. "Well, he wasn't. To this day, I have no idea how my little sister Cora survived the fire, but she did. I found her several years back while trying to keep an alpha pack and a darach from terrorizing our town, and the darach cursed her; put Cora into a magical coma that was slowly killing her.

"The only way to save my sister was to sacrifice my alpha status. I did and my eyes reverted back to their supposed color."

"To blue which means you took an innocent life." Dean's words aren't harsh, but it does nothing to lessen the tension. Instead, it only intensifies it.

"I'm done talking."

"If you don't tell us, we don't trust you," Dean grounds out. "We will not sit here comfortably knowing that you killed an innocent and paid no price for it."

Derek growls. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Then tell us. Or Cas will take the truth from you."

Dean and Derek glare each other down, and when Cas stands after being instructed to do so from Sam, Derek growls again. "It was a mercy kill. That's all you're gonna get."

"A mercy kill? So there's just the one?"

"Yes." Derek's gaze slides over to Sam, and the younger Winchester seems to deflate in relief.

"Okay," Sam says. "We can deal with that."

xXx

After another couple hours of just watching an unconscious Allison who occasionally jerked in her state, Derek's had enough of just sitting around. He's tired and cranky and hungry, and after Cas does one last check-up of their friend before his return to Heaven, Derek grumbles about getting food.

Dean declares that he's tagging along, he not fully trusting the blue-eyed werewolf and after some arguing, Derek huffs and agrees.

The two gruff men end up retrieving greasy burgers and burritos with small side bowls of chili and cheese- "Trust me, man," Dean had told Derek. "Allison looks cute and innocent, but she's downright evil if she doesn't have her chili and cheese burritos."- and head back to the motel room. Sam doles out beers from the mini-fridge and the three of them eat in silence.

Just before sunrise, Allison starts twitching and mumbling as if she's about to wake. Dean holds Derek back as Sam rushes to be by Allison's side, and they watch as she slowly wakes.

"Sam?"

"Hey, I'm right here." He smiles kindly, sitting on the side edge of the bed and grasping one of Allison's hands between his own. "You okay? You gave us quite the scare."

Derek listens as Sam speaks lightly, brows furrowing as the man's chemo-signals go haywire. Even Allison's chemo-signals are getting stronger and stronger the longer she's awake. And their chemo-signals.. a few of them actually smell alike and awfully familiar from when Allison used to be around Scott.

"I missed Castiel again, didn't I? I'm never gonna have a face to face with that angel."

Sam snorts. "You'll get your chance one day. Heaven's a chaotic place and God is still a no-show."

"Bummer." Allison then falls quiet, frowning. She reaches up and rubs at the space between her eyebrows. "How long was I out for?"

"A little under eight hours. What do you remember?"

"Ev- everything. I remember everything."