Judging for reviews for the last chapter, or more specifically the lack of, you didn't enjoy the last chapter much. I understand that the chapter recounting canon events aren't as interesting as the original hunts but I only repeat events when it's necessary. Unfortunately, this chapter is another that returns to canon events. It was unavoidable though, as I needed Anna as a character for the sequel.

Thanks go to SandraEngstom1 for sharing her marvelous beta skills. I love you, hon.

Chapter Thirteen

Dean was elbow deep in the Impala's engine when his phone rang. He jolted upright, cracking his head on the open hood.

"Son of a bitch," he muttered, connecting the call.

"Dean Winchester, you mind your mouth," a familiar voice scolded.

"Missouri?"

"Uhuh, it's me. Who were you expecting?"

That was the thing. Dean didn't know who to expect. Every time his phone rang, he secretly hoped it would be Sam, that he would have found a way out of the pit and would be trying to find his way home. It was a vain hope, kept secret in Dean's heart.

"No one," he said quickly. "So, what can I do for you? The roof leaking again?"

"No, you did a good job fixing it, and Marge Wilkins has stopped pouring paint down her sink so that's clear too. I was calling for your help."

Dean straightened. "You okay?"

"I am, but Anna's not."

Dean wracked his brain, trying to remember someone called Anna in Lawrence that he'd helped. He couldn't think of anyone.

"You're gonna have to help me out here, Missouri. Who's Anna?"

"A poor afflicted girl. She needs your help."

"Afflicted with what?" Dean asked. It could be anything, a demon, a ghost or even another poltergeist. In his world, there were too many things that could afflict a person.

"I don't know," Missouri said and her voice quavered. "I can hear her calling to me, but I don't know how to find her."

"Okay, calm down," Dean said gently. "I'll find her. Is there anything else that you can tell me to narrow it down?"

"She's lost. She's young—I can tell. She doesn't see the people she loves. She's hiding."

Dean cursed quietly and quickly apologized. "Okay, Missouri. I'll see what I can do. I'll call you back."

"Please hurry," Missouri said in a strained voice. "You aren't the only one looking."

They exchanged goodbyes and Dean ended the call. He slammed the hood of the car—the whining noise would have to wait—and made his way into the house. Bobby was working at the stove, preparing a chili for their lunch and he turned as Dean came in. "Did you cure her?"

"What?" Dean stared at him blankly for a moment. He hadn't even found the girl yet, how was he supposed to have cured her?

"The car," Bobby said patiently.

"Oh. No, but we've got bigger things going on. Missouri called with a job."

He sat down at the table and booted the laptop up, telling Bobby everything Missouri had told him.

"So it's a girl called Anna and she's 'afflicted' with who knows what?" Bobby asked and Dean nodded. "How the hell are we supposed to find her?"

"I've got an idea," Dean said. "Missouri said she was young and lost and she can't see the people she loves. This girl's either really young or really scared. I'm hoping someone's missing her."

He ran a search for missing persons called Anna in the US but got over a million results. Sighing to himself, he thought of ways to narrow it down. Missouri said she could hear her pain, and she'd been able to sense Dean the moment he crossed the state lines. He typed in the search again, adding Kansas to the mix, and got a few thousand results. He skimmed through them all and came across something hopeful linked to the Kansas City Police Department.

"Got something," he said. "Anna Milton. A patient in the Connor Beverley Behavioral Medicine Center, Kansas City."

"That sure sounds like she's afflicted with something," Bobby said thoughtfully. "But how are we supposed to protect her if she's in a locked ward?"

"She's not. She broke out two days ago, taking out an orderly on the way."

Bobby grimaced. "So we're looking for a psychotic girl that broke out of a nut house and is now on the run. That sounds nice and easy. Should only take an afternoon."

"Yeah. You up for this?"

"Someone's got to watch your ass. What are you thinking?"

"Pull out the suits and go in as feds to the hospital. See what we can find out from them. I need an address to start with."

Bobby took the pan from the heat and dumped it in the sink. "I was really looking forward to that," he grumbled.

Dean ignored him. He knew Bobby didn't really mind. He was up for the case as much as Dean was. They'd not had anything to fight for a week and the angels had been silent. They needed something to distract them.

The motel they had taken as a base for the night was slightly better than their usual. Bobby had higher standards that Sam and Dean had ever claimed. The walls were a clean white and the carpet was devoid of suspicious stains. If not for the fact he was on a case and there was a young girl in the mix, he would have been happy to kick back and enjoy it for a change.

He heard the rumble of an engine, and he moved to the window and pulled back the gauzy curtain in time to see Bobby's Chevelle pull up out front beside the Impala. Bobby climbed out and grabbed a manila folder from the passenger seat.

"How'd it go?" Dean asked when Bobby had come in and shrugged off his long coat.

"I had a chat with Anna's doctor. This is definitely the girl we're looking for. She had a sketch book filled with revelation signs."

"Awesome."

"Don't get too happy. I haven't got to the good part yet. Your buddy Missouri said we weren't the only ones looking for her. I think we can rule out the tooth fairy as a suspect. The windows were coated with sulfur."

Dean cursed and raked a hand through his hair. "Great. Just what we need. Why would demons be going after a psych ward runaway?"

Bobby shrugged. "Maybe because she knew the end was nigh and she wasn't keeping the information to herself. She started whacking out a few months ago, talking about the Devil rising. Sounds to me that a girl like that would be worth the demons talking to. I don't know about them, but I sure as hell want to know where she's getting her information from."

"Maybe she's psychic," Dean suggested. "Missouri knew all kinds of crap, even about Castiel. She didn't get that from the six o'clock news."

"Yeah, well, Missouri's a hell of a psychic, she's known throughout the hunting world. If Anna was as powerful as her, we'd have heard about her before now."

"Not if she's been keeping the information close. She started whacking out a few months ago, right when the seals started breaking. Something like that might want to make her share with the world."

Bobby nodded. "You could be right. It sounds like she was an ordinary preacher's daughter before all this happened. None of that helps us find her of course."

Dean considered carefully. Anna had been in a psych ward; that had to be some kind of hell. The first thing he'd done when he'd got out of the pit was try to find home—Sam. When that'd failed, he'd gone to the next best thing. This girl was probably thinking the same thing. She would want somewhere familiar.

"You got a home address in the file?" he asked.

"Yeah, the family place is in Tonganoxie."

"Then let's check it out. She'll be looking for something like home. Even if she's not there, her parents might have a clue about where she's gone."

Bobby nodded his agreement and they headed out. Dean followed Bobby in the Chevelle because, to use Bobby's words, Dean drove like a maniac and he wouldn't be able to keep up. It was only a thirty-minute drive, even at Bobby's speeds, and soon they were pulling onto an affluent neighborhood. Dean whistled through his teeth. There was no shortage of money when these houses were built. The one Bobby pulled to a stop in front of was a Victorian gingerbread house with a palatial garden out front. Their cars stuck out like sore thumbs on the street.

Dean climbed out and made his way up the long walkway to the house, Bobby right behind him. He knocked at the door but there was no answer. He looked around and saw two cars in the driveway, so unless they'd gone for a walk, there was something amiss. He tried the handle and it clicked open. He exchanged a dark look with Bobby and they both pulled their guns in unison.

Dean eased open the door and called out. "Mr. and Mrs. Milton. We're from the sheriff's department. Just want to ask a few questions."

There was no response and, as he stepped into the lounge, he saw why. There were two people lying on the floor. Their throats had been cut and a large pool of blood had formed around them.

Bobby squatted and probed a smudge of sulfur. "Demons."

Dean crossed the room and looked at the row of family snapshots on the mantle. Smiling out of the frames were the two dead people and a young girl with deep red hair and an innocent smile. He held up one of the pictures to Bobby. "Looks like this is our girl."

Bobby took the frame from his and examined it carefully. "I've seen that window before. In her sketchbook at the hospital. She'd drawn that window over and over."

Realization settled over Dean and he smiled grimly. "If you were religious, scared, and had demons on your ass, where would you go to feel safe?"

"The church."

They went back out to the street, checking for passersby. The bodies inside would be found sooner or later and they didn't want anyone seeing them leaving the crime scene. As far as Dean knew, Bobby had a clean record, but he wasn't so lucky. Though the world believed him dead, he'd had a rap sheet a mile long when Henriksen had been chasing him. There was no one on the streets so they hurried out to their cars and headed out of the street. Dean pulled out his phone and did a swift people search for a Reverend Milton in Tonganoxie. He got the address of the church and called Bobby's cell to tell him where they were heading.

The church was huge and imposing, a lot like the house had been. Dean wondered if the good reverend had been compensating for something. He saw the stained glass window from the picture and knew they'd got the right place.

When they got inside, they found the nave was empty and dull, the only light coming in through the high, stained glass windows.

"What do you think?" Dean asked.

Bobby gestured to the altar with his gun. "This is too big for her to feel safe. Try that."

"The altar? You think she's hiding under the table."

"No, ya idjit, the door behind tha altar."

Dean followed Bobby along the aisle to a small door in a recess behind the altar. It led to a spiral staircase and they climbed it coming to a wooden door. They both leaned against the wall either side of the door and Bobby counted to three on his fingers. On three, Dean kicked the door open and entered with his gun raised. The room was large and it looked as though it had been used as a storage space. There were books, statues, and boxes dotted around. If not for the large stained glass window at the back, Dean could have mistaken it for a room at Bobby's place.

There was a squeak of alarm and Dean caught sight of a figure with red hair disappearing around a screen. "Anna? You don't need to be scared. We're going to help you. My name's Dean and—"

"Dean?" The girl stepped around the screen and looked at Dean with something close to awe. "Not Dean Winchester?"

Dean frowned. "Um… yeah."

"It's really you. Oh, my god. The angels talk about you. You were in Hell, but the demons pulled you out, and some of the angels think you can help save us. They talk about you all the time lately. I feel like I know you."

"You talk to angels?" Bobby asked, and she started as if realizing he was there for the first time.

"It's okay," Dean said. "This is Bobby. He's here to help you too."

She shuffled uncomfortably. "I don't know you. The angels don't talk about you."

Bobby shrugged. "We can't all be special. Anyhow, you talk to angels?"

She shook her head jerkily. "Oh, no. No, no way. They probably don't even know I exist. I just kind of... overhear them. They talk, and sometimes I just hear them in my head."

"Like right now?" Dean asked

"Not right this second, but a lot. And I can't shut them out. There are so many of them."

"So, they lock you up with a case of the crazies when really you were just... tuning in to angel radio?" Dean asked.

Anna sighed with what Dean thought was relief. "Yes. Thank you."

"Well, at least now we know why the demons want you so bad," Dean said. "They get a hold of you, they can hear everything the other side's cooking."

Anna shuddered and hugged her arms around herself.

Suddenly, the room started shaking and a statue toppled over. Anna looked around, terror etched on her features.

"Bobby, get her out of here now!" Dean shouted.

"But you—"

"Now!" Dean shouted. He had the feeling something was coming and they had to get Anna out of there fast.

"Follow me!" Anna said, and they disappeared through a door at the back of the room.

Just then, the door at the top of the spiral staircase burst open and a man entered. He was wearing a pale blue shirt and black jacket. He smiled as he caught sight of Dean and his eyes flashed white, confirming to Dean that he was dealing with a heavyweight demon.

"Hello again, Dean." His voice was nasal and irritating. He came forward and grabbed Dean's jacket lapels, shoving him against the wall. Dean stared into his eyes, loathing building inside him.

"Don't you recognize me?" the demon asked. "Oh, I forgot—I'm wearing a pediatrician. But we were so close... in Hell."

In that moment Dean knew exactly who he was dealing with and just how screwed he was.

"Alastair."

His hands fisted at his sides. This was the demon that had tortured him for thirty long years, the demon that had freed him from the rack only on the condition that he tortured other souls.

Alastair pulled back his fist and punched Dean across the jaw. He felt his teeth grind against his cheek and blood pooled in his mouth. He drew back, preparing to spit the blood in Alastair's face, but before he could, Alastair landed another blow, making the blood trickle out of his mouth and down his chin.

"Want me to stop?" Alastair asked as Dean grimaced in pain. "I'll make you a deal. You give us the girl and I'll let you go."

"Never gonna happen," Dean said through gritted teeth.

Alastair released him and he slid down to the floor.

"This is what I will never understand about you Winchesters," Alastair said. "You're so willing to hurt and die for each other but you get squeamish about people you have no connection to. Like Anna…"

"Anna's an innocent," Dean said. "We protect them from scum like you."

Alastair's eyebrow rose. "You want to talk about innocents? Let's talk about Sam."

Dean's fury rose at his brother's name coming from the black mouth. He didn't have the right to speak about Sam.

"Little, innocent Sammy. At least he was. Now he's twisted and dark and Sam. You really should have done a better job protecting him, Dean. But I can't complain really. I lost my most promising pupil when I lost you, but I have regained that and more with Sam. He's a master."

"I don't believe you. Sam wouldn't get off the rack."

"Oh, but he has, and he didn't even last as long as you did. Lilith played him too hard, he had to come off. He is now presiding over the souls, ripping and tearing into them. And you know, he enjoys it, too. Just like you did."

Dean shook his head. "You're lying."

Alastair shrugged. "You'll be able to ask him yourself soon. The way Sam's going he'll be sporting a pair of black eyes in no time. He will be out of the pit and then…" He smiled rapaciously. "You'll have to kill him."

"That'll never happen," Dean said.

"It will," Alastair said with relish. "And I will be here to watch it happen. I will watch you take that blade," he kicked Dean in the gut, "and run it through your brother's gut," another kick, "and I will enjoy it."

"Enjoy this!" Dean grabbed Alastair's ankle and yanked it up, shifting Alastair's center of balance. He stumbled and Dean was there. He jumped to his feet and dragged Ruby's knife from his pocket. As Alastair righted himself, Dean plunged the blade into his chest, right over his heart. Sparks of energy crackled around the wound but Alastair didn't fall to the ground.

He grinned at Dean. "You're gonna have to try a whole lot harder than that, son."

Dean yanked the blade out and stepped back wordlessly. His mind was reeling. The knife had failed.

"Now, let's talk a little more about Sam," Alastair said with relish. "I have so many stories I want to share…"

Dean knew he was dead if he stayed in that room. Alastair would kill him. His eyes crossed the room to the large stained-glass window. It was his only hope. If he could just get to the car, he would have a chance of escape.

Dean ran across the room and threw himself through the window. It smashed on impact and he flew through the air for a split second before gravity caught him and dragged him down.

Dean's whole body protested at the impact with the ground. He hurt all over, but he didn't have time to give in to his body's aches and pains. He had to get away. He clambered to his feet and limped over to the car. Throwing himself in behind the wheel, he started the engine with a shaking hand and the engine roared to life. Tires squealing, he turned out of the parking lot and onto the road. He cast the church a glance in the rearview mirror and saw Alastair standing in the ruined window. It was hard to tell at the distance, but Dean thought he looked satisfied.

He was a mile down the road before the adrenaline wore off and his injuries made themselves known more directly. He felt warmth dripping down his face and every indrawn breath sent pain shooting down his left side. He mopped at the blood with his sleeve and tried to take shallow breaths. He knew from the pains over his body and the dampness on his shirt that he was bleeding in other places too. His head swam and his vision blurred. He rubbed at his eyes, trying to clear them, but that only made things worse. He needed a safe place where he could fix himself up. He needed help and he knew exactly where to go.

He pulled out his phone and dialed Bobby's number with one hand on the wheel.

"Dean?" Bobby's voice was thick with worry.

"Bobby, please tell me you got away and I didn't just pound my ass into concrete for nothing."

"We got away." Bobby said. "How did you?"

"That would be part of the concrete pounding I mentioned. Where are you now?"

"We're about four miles outside of town. How are you doing?" Bobby asked brusquely.

"I'm gonna need some help," Dean admitted.

"How bad?"

"I won't make the drive back to your place. I'm going to head to Missouri's."

"We'll meet you there," Bobby said and promptly ended the call before Dean could argue against.

He dropped the phone down on the seat beside him and directed the car to Lawrence.

When he arrived, he saw Missouri standing on the front porch, wringing her hands. She rushed out to meet him at the car door. It was good that she did as the last of the adrenaline had left him and his legs were shaking.

"Oh, boy, what did you do?" she asked, wrapping an arm around him to steady him as he walked to the door.

"Jumped out of a building," Dean said through gritted teeth.

She hissed in a breath. "Accursed demons. C'mon, let's get you inside so I can take a look at you."

He stumbled into the house. When she tried to lead him to the lounge, he balked. He didn't want to bleed all over her couch.

"You let me worry about the upholstery," she scolded when he explained. "Besides, you look like you're about to fall at my feet, and I don't have near the strength to get you on your feet again."

"Bobby's coming," he said blearily, it was getting harder to think straight. Then through the haze, a thought came. Bobby was coming, but Alastair could be too. "Holy water! He might be coming. You need to protect yourself."

"I'm plenty protected," she said. "Don't you worry."

She led Dean into the lounge and, despite his protests, eased him down onto the couch. She came back with a small box and examined its contents. "There's nothing in here that's going to help you."

"Don't worry," Dean said in a sift sigh. "Bobby will have his kit in the car."

"Dean, are you…"

Whatever else she was going to say was lost as fog engulfed Dean's mind and his eyes slipped closed. He thought he heard Bobby's voice before he succumbed, but he couldn't be sure.

If you got this far and are still reading, thank you. If you enjoyed the chapter, please take a moment to review. If you didn't enjoy it, let me know so I can work to make the next story better.

Until next time…

CoM xxx