Author's Note: Okay, this chapter might be a little confusing so I'll explain. The words in italics is happening in Liz's mind from her point-of-view and the normal font is in the present in general point-of-view between Sam and Dean. Please let me know if it is too confusing to follow.

Chapter 21 - Plagued

I was shocked awake. I looked about the room, trying to find the source of my alarm. What I expected to see was a dingy motel room with my dad trying to wake me up so we could hit the road. I did not expect to be seated at a desk in a stereotypical middle school classroom surrounded by students who were staring at me like I was some sort of circus freak.

"Glad you decided to join us, Miss Winchester," my crazy English teacher, Ms. Fairey, called. She was the typical hippy type with long, untamed hair and handmade-style clothing. She was feared and hated by all, especially those who had opposite opinions than she had.

But, the biggest issue was how in the hell I ended up here.

I sat in the rest of class just looking around. Eventually, everyone moved on about me, apparently, being asleep in my seat and decided to pay attention to Ms. Fairey or completely ignore her by doodling or texting friends.

I looked towards Lily, who sat towards the front of the room, in hopes that she would have some sort of explanation on why I was suddenly back at Palo Alto West Middle School. She, of course, didn't even give any indication that I was there. When she was in study-mode, the rest of the world didn't exist.

When the bell finally rang (or, I should say when Ms. Fairey finally decided to dismiss us since she was a bitch that way), I immediately ran towards Lily as she headed towards her locker.

Before I could even say a word, she started nagging me. "Seriously, Liz? Falling asleep? I'm surprised, even I thought Ms. Fairey's explanation on Edgar Allen Poe's poems was boring, if not extremely incorrect. But at least have the decency to make it look like you're awake. You snore louder than a hibernating bear!"

There goes Lily and her infamous rants. I love her to death, but geez that girl can talk someone's ears off.

"Okay Lily, enough with the charade. What the hell is going on?"

Lily cringed at my vulgar language even though ninety-percent of the seventh grades think it is cool to swear now. It made us feel more adult. Of course, with hanging around Dad and Uncle Dean twenty-four/seven, saying "hell" could barely constitute as swearing anymore.

"I don't know what you are talking about," she said, plainly. "All I know is that you have been way off since…never mind."

"What?" I demanded. "I've been off since when?"

"Look, I keep telling you to talk with the school councilor about it, but you just don't listen to me. I get that you are losing sleep over it. But, if you won't talk to me or your mother about this, at least talk with Mr. Wacker."

"Whoa, whoa wait…my mom's alive."

Lily gave me a confused look. "As far as I know."

The warning bell rang and Lily began to look frantically around. "Look, I don't want to be late for science. Will you please talk with Mr. Wacker even if it means missing gym?"

Without even waiting for me to reply, Lily walks away towards Mrs. Impellizzeri's classroom. I watched her leave, with more questions floating around in my mind than ever.

Ignoring the late bell, I walked to my locker (at least, what I hoped was my locker) and opened it. Sure enough, my colorful messenger bag was tucked inside, as was my precarious pile of books, old papers and overall useless crap. I pulled out my cell phone from the side pocket and went through the contacts until I found Dad's cell phone.

Almost immediately after pressing it to my ear, the annoying chime rang through followed by the automated voice announcing that the number I had dialed is no longer in service. I slammed my phone shut. Why would Dad's cell phone be out of service? Unless he had changed the number and forgot to tell me. That's happened numerous times.

"Liz Winchester," the annoying voice of Ryan Forfinski called out. I inwardly groaned. Ryan was infamous at school for being the dumbass hall monitor. Thanks to some sort of physical disorder that I didn't care to find out, he got out of taking gym. Instead, he became hall monitor for fourth period. He had eyes like a hawk and hearing like a wolf. He could sense a skipper from miles away.

"Do you have permission to be out in the hallway?"

"This is so not the day to be messing with me, Forfucker (his nickname given by one of the many class clowns in this school). I have no clue what the hell is going on. One moment, I am attacked by a freaking shtriga and the next I have Ms. Fairey nagging me for falling asleep in her class."

Ryan just blinked at me, trying to process the information I just spewed at him. "Well, I have no clue what a shtriga is and whatever is going on in your messed up personal life is no matter to me." He pulled out his notepad of terror and wrote something down. "Now, I'm pretty sure you are skipping gym again, so I suggest you give this to Mr. Douglas and pray that he'll give mercy on his soul." He tore off the piece of paper and handed it to me.

I looked down at the pink slip and looked up at him. As if it was muscle memory, I crumpled up the piece of paper and threw it at his feet. "I hope you rot in Hell." Before he could utter another word, I stomped away from him and headed towards the gym, trying to figure out what was going on.

-SPN- -SPN- -SPN-

Sam was pissed, to say the least.

It was now dawn and the shtriga never showed up to take Michael. Don't get him wrong, he was thankful that Michael is safe. But, that also means that he and Dean have no clue where that thing is.

"Okay, I'll head down to the hospital," Dean decided, fiddling with the lock to the motel room door. "Maybe the shtriga was onto us and decided to break the pattern and take some other kid's soul or whatever."

Sam didn't like that theory, but it was possible. The shtriga could be one step ahead of them.

"Let's just get some coffee in us first," Dean said. "I doubt I can keep up with this no-sleep shit I'm dealing with."

"Quiet, Dean," Sam sneered. "Liz is probably still asleep."

Sure enough, Liz was curled up on her bed, her back to them. Something felt off about her though. Sam just shrugged it off as lack of sleep.

Wordlessly, Dean headed into the bathroom. Sam went into the little kitchenette to make coffee. He was filling up the pot with water when he felt a sudden chill in the air. I looked up to see the window wide open.

"No!" Sam breathed, racing towards Liz. He dropped the nearly full pot of water in the process. But that didn't matter.

He shook her shoulder. "Liz! Wake up!" When she didn't respond, Sam adjusted her arms so that he could see her face. She looked pale and sickly with dark circles under her eyes. Sam just stood there in horror, not wanting to look at his daughter like this but unable to look away at the same time.

"Sammy, what's going on?" Dean walked out of the bathroom and headed towards his brother. He stopped halfway there, nonverbally getting his answer.

They stood there in silence, Sam looking at Liz and Dean looking at Sam. Liz just remained still, eyes closed and body practically lifeless.

"The shtriga must've thought…" Dean was lost for words. The statement didn't need to be finished. Liz was proof that the shtriga must have thought that Liz was Michael's and his little brother's sister.

-SPN- -SPN- -SPN-

Gym used to be hell for me. I wasn't the type to actually care about athletics and keeping fit. However, the hunter training Dad and Uncle Dean have put me through has changed me though. I went from the weak, little girl to an unstoppable force in dodge ball…even with the twenty extra push-ups I had to do for being late.

I still had no idea why I was here, but for a few glorious moments I forgot what was going on and just had fun like a normal teenager should.

Of course, I think I went a little overboard with the game. I had a wicked arm and head-on aim. People started to notice that I went from being the girl how dodged more than attacked to wonder woman.

"Who the hell are you and what have you done with Liz Winchester?" Katy Spoor had the guts to ask me.

I just shrugged my shoulders and said, "I dunno."

After gym was lunch. I decided to spend the half-hour I got in trying to get Lily to spill what was, apparently, plaguing me.

"Look, what is going on Lily?" I asked her, sitting down across from her. I didn't bother getting a lunch. I wasn't all that hungry anyway.

Lily looked up at me, her sandwich halfway to her mouth. "Uh…is this supposed to be a rhetorical question?"

"Look, would you believe me if I said that I am suddenly in an alternative universe and I had just came back from one where I knew that monsters and demons and such existed?"

Lily slowly put down her sandwich. "Okay, so I did a bit of research and this wild imagination of yours is normal. You're trying to create a perfect world in your head that doesn't have problems that you have to deal with."

"God, you make absolutely no sense, Lil. I am not joking: I'm not supposed to be here. I am supposed to be in the back of my uncle's 1967 Chevy Impala with my dad and Uncle Dean to God knows where to fight some baddy and save the world or whatever."

"I think you have been watching way too many horror movies," Lily said. "And I didn't know you had an uncle. I thought your parents are only children."

"No, my dad has a brother who he hasn't talked to in many, many years. You've met him, in fact. In St. Louis. Your uncle was framed for murder and we proved that it was a shape shifter who posed as your uncle."

Lily looked at me with horror in her eyes. "How did you know that my uncle is being charged for murder? I never told you that."

Oh, whoops. I guess I'm not supposed to know that.

"Look, that proves you have to believe me," I said. "I truly have no idea what is going on in this universe."

"Earth to Liz Winchester: this is the only universe. I get that your dad running off has messed with your head, but this is a little extreme—even for you."

My heart figuratively stopped beating.

Dad…

Running off…

I abruptly stood up, my mind swirling as it attempted to figure out what was going on. I was now desperate enough for answers that I decided to do something that the old Liz would never have the guts to do.

-SPN- -SPN- -SPN-

The overall feel of the motel room was chilling. Sam sat by Liz's bed, holding her hand in a comforting manor. He considered taking Liz to the hospital, but didn't she say in her hysteria that a doctor who worked at the hospital was the shtriga. There was no way he was going to send her there.

Sam was, fortunately, alone. Dean went to handle the case without him. Sam was a wreck and, even though what Dean was doing was strictly information seeking, Sam would probably find some way to get the both killed.

"I'm so sorry, Liz," Sam muttered for the umpteenth time. He knew that Liz probably couldn't hear him, but that hasn't stopped him from apologizing profusely to his comatose daughter. "I should have known that the shtriga might have gone after you. I was careless and stupid."

"Correction: we were careless and stupid."

Sam looked up to see Dean entering the motel room. He didn't waste his time looking at his older brother and almost immediately averted his eyes back to Liz, as if he was afraid that she would just disappear if he didn't watch her closely.

"I talked with Michael," Dean said. "He doesn't like the idea of having to do it again, but he's willing to still do it."

Sam nodded.

"I also checked on what sort of treatments they are giving the patients. At this point, they are focused on keeping them alive as long as possible by giving them nutrient solutions."

Sam wanted to tell Dean to shut the hell up. He didn't want to hear how there probably was nothing else they could do for his daughter until they gank that goddamn shtriga.

"But, the big question is how are you doing?"

"I'm fine," Sam lied. Trust was, he was miserable beyond compare.

"That's bullshit, Sam," Dean remarked. He pulled a chair from the table and placed it next to Sam's. "Your daughter is in a coma!"

"What the hell do you expect me to do?" Sam demanded. "Do you want to have a chick-flick moment and have me talk about my feelings?"

"Hey, look, I'm just trying to help."

"How about you just go fuck off or something?"

Dean remained silent, trying to figure out a different approach to things. "You're blaming yourself for this, aren't you?"

Sam's jaw tightened at the thought. "We were careless. We should have known—"

"How do you expect us to know that the shtriga would go after Liz instead of Michael?" Dean asked him. "That thing goes after siblings. We never considered how it might think that the three of them were siblings."

"That's just it: we should have."

Dean sighed. After knowing his baby brother his entire life, he should know that Sam was as stubborn as a mule. "But, Sam, your worries started way before this. Practically when you found out that a lot of kids were being diagnosed with pneumonia."

"I was worried about my daughter's health. I guess that's a crime nowadays."

"Sam," Dean warned. "You were a little too worried about it. Liz is healthy. The actual chances of her catching it then were slim to none."

Sam sighed deeply. "I guess my fear of her getting sick started when she was first born."

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked.

"The doctors…the doctors said that something was wrong and whisked Liz away before Jess or I could hold her." He remembered the memory like it was yesterday—he felt the pain like it was yesterday. "The nursed spewed off about something to do with weak lungs and cardiac arrhythmia and how it was strange that they didn't detect any of this before she was born."

"Those hours after getting the news were the worst," Sam continued. "Jess was out thanks to the pain killers they gave her, so I was left to freak out by myself. Eventually, the doctor came back with news that Liz'll pull through." Sam chuckled softly. "He said that Liz had a guardian angel watching over her."

"Well, that's good…isn't it?"

Sam nodded. "Liz had some immunity problems after birth, but none of them hospital serious. For a while, the scare was forgotten by Jess and I…at least, until Jess became pregnant again…."

-SPN- -SPN- -SPN-

If I had known cutting class and sneaking out of the school was so easy, I would have done it before…everything.

It didn't take long to get to the apartment building that I used to live at. In this reality, it was in one piece and Mom was alive. Whatever happens from here, at least I know I have those two happy thoughts to help me through it.

I walked up the echoing steps to the apartment. I hesitantly opened the door, scared on what lies beyond it.

The first thing I noticed was how messy it was. Mom was crazy about keeping a clean home. The carpeting looked like it hadn't seen the vacuum in a few days and miscellaneous items covered every square inch of the dining room table and the coffee table in front of the couch.

The second thing I noticed was Mom curled up on the couch with a blanket wrapped around her. In only a few words: she looked like crap.

"Um…hey, Mom," I said, hesitantly.

She lazily looked up to see me. "Oh, hey Liz. Shouldn't you be in school?"

Wow, way to show interest in your daughter cutting class.

"Half-day," I lied, keeping it short and simple. But, in reality, I was betting on Mom being so out of it at the moment that she wouldn't be paying attention to my schooling schedule.

"Oh, okay."

I hesitated in asking my next question, afraid the answers I'll get and the reaction Mom will get from them. I chose my words wisely and hoped I didn't trigger something bigger than what I intended. "Have you…have you heard from Dad?"

Mom shaking her head was the spark that ignited my metaphorical fire.

-SPN- -SPN- -SPN-

"Wait…what?" Dean was lost by Sam's words. "You mean to tell me that Jessica was pregnant after Liz?"

Sam nodded. It killed him to talk about this, but Dean needed to know. This secret has been kept between him and Jess for years. With her death, someone else needed to know.

"It was a boy," Sam said, looking down at his hands. He didn't dare look at Dean or Liz now. He couldn't face Liz's mute expression and Dean's confused one. "We had a name and everything. When he was born, he had all the same problems that Liz had…except he didn't make it."

Silence fell upon the brothers. The minutes ticked by and barely a breath was heard. Dean, unable to take it anymore, was the one to break the silence. "I'm so sorry, Sam."

"It tore Jess and I apart," Sam said. He didn't want to cover this part of it, but his mouth was forming the words before his brain could stop it. "I remember us getting into an argument over something stupid like whose turn it was to make coffee or who got the bathroom first when getting ready in the morning. Not a day went by after that where one of us didn't walk out the door and considered never coming back."

Hearing Sam talk like that pulled at Dean's heart strings. Sam was supposed to live the apple pie life with a white picket fence and three-point-five children. He wasn't supposed to deal with the loss of a child and almost get a divorce with his wife. Dean assumed it was almost, since they were still together when he came in search of Sam's help almost one year ago.

"We eventually moved on," Sam said. "But, for a while there, it didn't look like it would. But Liz was the one who held us together."

"How am I not surprised?"

"She was only four then," Sam said. "Even at a young age, it was just like she knew something was wrong even though she didn't even know the details. Hell, I'm pretty sure she doesn't remember anything of her brother. It's not a subject Jess and I ever brought up."

Dean didn't know how he felt about that. He didn't like the idea of Sam and Jess keeping this huge secret from Liz. But, at the same time, he understood why they did it: to protect her innocence.

"After I came back from one of our arguments, Liz sat Jess and I both down in the living room and said that we shouldn't argue because mommies and daddies are supposed to love each other." Sam gave a faint smile, as if he was amused by the thought. "It was then that Jess and I realized that we still had Liz and we still had each other and that we could move past this."

Dean nodded and watched the setting sun through the window. "It's almost dark out. We should get going."

Sam nodded. He gave Liz's hand one final squeeze before he stood from his chair. "Let's go kill that son of a bitch."

-SPN- -SPN- -SPN-

I ran into my room, hyperventilating. It was the same as it was supposed to be: piles of clothes separated by cleanliness, old candy wrappers and pop cans strewn everywhere and a large stack of library books that needed to be returned. In many ways, nothing has changed.

Except Dad…

I tried his phone again. I got the out-of-service message again. From memory, I dialed the number Dad gave out to people when he posed as a FBI agent. It rang a few times before going to voicemail. After the automated message finished, I began my rant.

"Look, I have no clue what the hell is going on, so please tell me there is a damn good excuse why you ran off and broke Mom's heart. This isn't even my own reality. I need to go back to the one where I know about your messed up past even if Mom is dead. I can't…I just can't anymore."

I slammed my phone shut. Shutters wracked my body as I tried to calm down. I sounded like an idiot in the message and it probably wasn't smart to mention that I was from a different reality, but how else would I know that number?

Let go….

I couldn't place the voice, but I felt like I heard it a million times before this. It was kind and gentle, yet forceful as if this person was trying to get their point across.

Just let go….

"Who are you?" I asked, reaching for my trusty hairspray that has proved to help me in the past. "Show yourself."

Let go, Mary….

"I'm Liz," I said. It was mostly a natural reaction when someone called me by my birth name. "Just tell me what you want."

I want you to let go and move on….

Move on. Does that mean...

"NO!" I cried. "No, I won't let go. I'll never let go if there is ever a chance that I can get back!"

"Liz?"

There was a knock on my door that made me jump in fright. It was just Mom. I put down the hairspray and crossed over to the door.

"Yeah?" I asked, opening the door.

"Who were you talking to?" Mom asked, looking around my room. "Why were you yelling?"

Oh, crap. "Um, I was on my phone. Lily wanted to know if we had an English homework and you know how sometimes she is hard of hearing."

Mom just nodded, accepting the lie. "Okay," she said. "Did you want me to make you a grilled cheese or something?"

I was taken aback. Mom hasn't made me lunch when Dad wasn't around since I learned how to work the stove. Maybe this was part of alternative reality Mom who wants to make amends since Dad apparently walked out on us. "That'd be great," I said.

Mom walked over to the kitchen and I closed the door behind her. I looked around my room again, wondering if that voice will come back or not.

It didn't. I tried calling all of Dad's phones, many of which were out of service and others went right to voicemail. I was about to try Uncle Dean's array of numbers, but Mom called me into the kitchen for lunch.

Mom had her back to me as she finished up the grilled cheese sandwich. I grabbed a glass from the cupboard, having to go onto my tippy toes to reach it. I didn't realize that I was tackled from the side until I crashed onto the floor.

It was Mom with her curly blond hair and face, but it looked gruesome, almost as if she was burning. "How could you do this to me?"

She had my arms pinned to my side, so escape was impossible. I struggled and struggled, trying to get out of my mother's grasp.

That is, if it was even my mother.

"How could you let me die like that?" she demanded, her voice unnaturally low and gravelly. "You were in your room, fast asleep. It took my final moments of pain for you to realize that I was in trouble."

That accusation was the equivalent of being stabbed in the heart. Mom blamed me for her death.

"No…no, I-I didn't know," I pleaded.

In one fluid motion, Mom had her hand wrapped around my neck. She put all her weight into it, chocking me nearly to death.

Let go….

I finally recognized the voice. It was my mother's true voice—kind and nurturing.

You don't deserve this Liz, just let go….

That's when I released the metaphorical bonds that trapped me here and simply let go.