Tryin here, guys. The story is getting direction. Pretty soon we're gonna leave Twi-verse alone and get back on the rails with Supernatural. Woo!

In the meantime, here's another chapter. I think I'm gonna go eat a hot pocket. Mmm. Or, have you ever tried those frozen White Castle burgers? Good god. I'm salivating.

Anyway. Here we are. Hope you like.

"Alright, alright!" Dean shoved Sam's hands away from him, pacing. "I'm calm. I just…I don't like deals, man. I just don't."

I was staring, disbelieving, at the two brothers. I sat on my couch and they stood before me in the free space between the coffee table and the television. They'd been chatting quietly, standing uneasily as they were now, when I woke up, bleary and sick. My world had righted itself, however, in time for a rushed interrogation by Dean. His words had blended together in a rushed jumble in my swaying mind. Sam had intervened, pulling him away and shooting me a semi-sympathetic look.

Now they stood, Dean fidgeting, and I couldn't stop feeling helplessly small. They knew—they knew about what I'd done. Worse, even, was what was bound to happen. I felt strange, knowing Cassie had gotten ten years and I'd only gotten one. I couldn't fathom why I'd get so short-ended; there was more to come, too. Cassie's ten years were soon to be spent in prison. Who knew how mine would turn out?

"And I did some digging, too—when you told me to clear my head. Yeah, we got something else just a few towns over. Only a couple reported cases, nothing nobody's looked into too bad—drained dry." Dean was ranting now, low and angry, to Sam. "I'm thinking it might be that thing I saw when I swerved and—" swallowing hard, stopping there, he turned and looked at me.

They both seemed to realize now that I was there. Dean stayed standing, jaw flexing as he looked away, regret palpable. Sam, however, sat down next to me gently. I jumped, but more out of reflex than fear of his presence. Though Dean had me on edge with his behavior, and I was still shocked at their knowledge of what I'd done, I wasn't afraid.

"Bella," Sam said calmly. "We're not—well, I'm not," he glanced to Dean, "mad. I just need to know if you made a deal with the Crossroads Demon."

I took a deep breath. Everything was shaking—but they knew, right? What was the harm in telling them now? I had my year, if that, and my fate was sealed. However, there was one thing that was bugging me. I'd sold my soul…what happened after that? I'd been translating "no soul" to "instant death." But was that the case? Did the demon possess me? Did I do its bidding? What happened when collection time came?

Storing my questions, I finally spoke, "I made a deal—she said she was a demon, but I didn't…" I paused. Had I really disbelieved? After all, I'd had a tryst with a vampire. Could I truly claim that there wasn't at least some small part of me that didn't think it was real? Unsure of myself, I continued anyway, stomach queasy, "I didn't think. And I didn't really believe it would work—but somehow she knew about me and told me she knew what I wanted and she was right. I wanted my sight back and she told me I could have it."

"So you made the deal," Sam concluded. "Did she have you sign something? Or give her an object of yours?" I thought back to our transaction, to what happened right after I said yes.

Shaking my head, "No, no, nothing like that. She…"

"How did she seal the contract, Bella?"

I felt myself blushing—in all this, I chose to be embarrassed about kissing a girl? Figured. Part of me was laughing at myself. "No, she kissed me."

Sam paused and looked to Dean, whose eyebrows rose. "There's a bright side. Some girl on girl." Sam rolled his eyes in response, looking back to me earnestly, embodiment of a puppy, and I almost wanted to smile and spill my guts to him. Instead, however, I remembered my questions.

"She said—she said I have a year." Before I could continue, Dean stopped me.

"Wait, what?" He stooped down, looking me in the eye. "A year? Not ten?"

I shrugged, helpless, hopeless. "I…I don't know. She said there was something about me, her usual deal wouldn't do, and I would get a year. I took the deal, and we kissed, and now she has my soul, and I don't even know what that means…" I looked down at my hands, picking at my nails and fidgeting, hands in my lap, clothes dirty with bile and rain—when had it begun raining? Was it raining now? I didn't know, and I couldn't bring myself to look up to check. "I…what happens? After my year?"

I looked up at Sam. His head was tilted to the side, eyes still sympathetic, but now grim. He seemed to be holding something back. Tears blurring the bottom half of my vision, nose stinging, I looked to Dean. He was looking away, at the ground. "Tell me, please," I said quietly. "Please tell me what happens."

"You die—and you go to Hell."

My bones solidified into stone, pure cold concrete in my body. My tears fell, but no more followed. More shocked than ever, I tried to cope with the fact that Hell was real, and that I was going. They could have been lying, but my gut, filled now with ice water, was to trust them. They knew what they were talking about.

Unable to comment further on this, I redirected the topic. "Who are you? How do you know all this?"

"We're hunters," Dean answered, shifting his weight back on his opposite heel, crossing his arms.

"Normal people don't just know this—do they?" I asked, incredulous. My fingers moved to the couch, gripping it to anchor myself, scraping at the worn fabric.

"Not normal hunters—supernatural hunters. Monsters, demons, vampires, werewolves. We hunt these things and kill them." I put off the V word, staving the pain away, compiling it in my mind for later. Instead, I focused my energy on coping with this—but found it easy. I'd reached my limit of surprise. At this point, discovering anything else was pie.

"Can you kill the demon that is going to send me to Hell?" I asked. "Can you help me?"

"I don't know," Sam said. "There's a lot going on in this town, and we have no idea where it went."

"Like the blood thing," I said. I contemplated revealing what I knew—they knew of vampires, for example. Had they been coming here for that reason? The Cullens were vegetarians, yes, but did that matter to these men? Were they still evil because of what they were? And then Dean had mentioned seeing something and swerving. I'd mentally filled in the rest of his sentence, deducing that he'd seen something, swerved, and hit my car. Hence how this all started.

However, I could possibly do damage control. I could take focus away from the Cullens. Edward—he'd mentioned once about Victoria. She was still at large. I wondered now if I could possibly blame her, or James, or the other one—I couldn't remember his name, but was it possible? Could I shift the spotlight off of the Cullens? After all, this whole "draining blood" thing had to sprout from somewhere. Charlie had always insisted the killings were the giant bear walking around, but I'd been hesitant to believe that. Now, my gut was telling me something else.

I'd already told the boys about the cold ones. Vampires. But I'd told it as a girl who'd heard a legend and didn't really believe it. Now if I told it as a witness, gave accounts, shared my story—could that do me any good? If I told them what I knew would they help me out as well?

Fear gripped me. I didn't want to die. I didn't want to go to Hell. I didn't want any of this. I'd never been a particularly good, religious person—but Hell didn't seem to fit me either. One mistake wasn't fair. One moment of weakness, of blind faith.

"Bella? Bella?" Sam waved his hand in front of my face, breaking my trance.

"I know what that is," I said at last. "At least, I think."

"Oh, really," Dean said skeptically. "Enlighten us."

And with those words, the floodgates opened. Emotionlessly, with no tears, I looked both men in the face and spilled my story of the Cullens. I brushed over the Edward parts, dampening them for both my sake and theirs.

There was a small intermission between the boys, talking about how they'd never seen or heard of a vampire like I'd described. Not that they encountered them often, but golden or red eyes, hard and cold as stone skin, sparkling. None of that made any sense to them. Deciding that it must have been a higher grade of vampire than they were used to, they let me continue.

I went on to tell them heavily of James, of Laurent—it took me a few moments of contemplation to remember his name—and of Victoria. I'd told them that Edward had said she would be back for revenge, as James' mate.

"Wait wait wait," Dean said, hands up, after I'd finished my story. "So this Victoria bitch—she's the one behind the drained bozos?"

I shrugged. Clinical exterior and roiling interior, I cleared my throat and kept my voice as neutral as possible. "I don't know. But the same sort of thing happened when she and James were around."

"But the Cullens—Cullens, right?" I nodded. Sam continued on, "They left…so why is she here?"

"Maybe she thinks they're still here?" I suggested.

Sam shook his head. "You said they were great trackers, wonderful scenting, impeccable eyesight—if she's hunting this close, then she's already scoped it out. She knows they aren't here."

"So why then?" I asked. "If she's here, why?"

Dean and Sam gave each other a charged look. Silent communication I wasn't in on—I'd felt it, sometimes, when I was around them. A small bout of silence and suddenly the air was denser than before. They were speaking without words, something similar to Alice and Edward, and seeing it first hand was almost painful.

Both men turned to me. "Bella," Sam began, lilting tone still full of sympathy, soft, drawing me in. He'd make a good vampire. The thought about made me laugh.

"She's after you," Dean intervened, voice gruff.

I choked on air. "M—me?"

"Edward killed James to defend you—seems logical she'd root out the problem. Monsters don't generally like to kill their own race, anyway. Not that we've seen. If there was a human involved, she'd gank you first." When Dean put it that way, it was frighteningly logical.

"They're so powerful," I choked out. No longer able to contain the whirlwind, I felt as if my chest was collapsing in on itself. "I'm a sitting duck. If she's here…she's going to kill me."

Sam's jaw flexed. He glanced briefly at Dean, but Dean didn't take his eyes off me. I looked away from them, tears rolling freely now. My insides were having a war, imploding, wrinkling, and I felt sickly. "We won't let that happen," Sam said. "We'll fix that—if we can't fix the deal, we'll at least let you live out your year."

"But she's so strong and unstoppable," I said, breathing heavily, on the urge of hyperventilating. I was ripping holes in the old couch, something I knew I would regret later. "I—there's nothing humans can do to…"

"There's always something," Dean said. "We just…don't know what."

"This is the first time we've encountered…well, this type of vampire. We will figure out how to kill it eventually," Sam added. "She won't hurt you."

"But she knows where I live. She could come before you figure it out." Breathe Bella, Breathe. Don't pass out. You've done too much of that.

"Well." Sam stood up with a sigh. Dean, seeming to just have noticed that he'd sat down at some point during our conversation, stood as well. "If she knows where you are at all times, we'll just have to fix that, too."

"What do you mean?" I asked, quivering, shaking, cold and hot all over. The tears were gone, but my face felt warm and chapped and my nose stung horribly.

He offered his hand, heaving me up when I took it. "We can't kill her—staying in town is dangerous to you, and we would do much better to ask some friends. So, we take her target and vanish." Dean seemed unsure of this, looking at the back of Sam's head. But those hazel eyes were so earnest that I found myself fully believing everything he said. "You come hunting with us—stay out of the way—and we'll find the answers."

I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I—I…the house…my things?" Unable to be coherent, I shrugged and looked at him emptily, unsure of myself.

"Pack the necessities. Leave the house. Trust me," he said. "We'll get you back in no time. And you'll forget all about us afterward."

"But—"

"Listen, Bella," Dean interjected. Gruff, but not unkind, "people are dying here because you're here. If we take you out, it'll be the best short-term solution. Limited time offer. Save your ass and the lives of other people who don't deserve to get caught in this vampy love triangle."

Brows knitted, nails bitten down to the quick, feet shuffling, and body still shaking, I could do nothing more than nod. "Okay. I'll come with you."

"Well," with a short smirk, Dean looked to Sam and then back to me. "I'll go get the car."