A/N: Sorry it's been so long since the last update. I started my new job last Monday and things have been a bit hectic. Hopefully the adjustment period is mostly over and I can get back to regularly posting. My intention is to post weekly from here on out. While I will put forth my honest effort to make that happen, I won't make any promises on that front. I will try my best though! Also sorry about typos/general unruliness in this chapter- I didn't proof as much as usual as I wanted to get it out to you guys! Exciting developments are on their way so please bear with me if you are enjoying the story so far and can deal with semi-spontaneous chapter postings from here on out. Again thanks for all of the reviews and support! xoxo-Hannah

I inched my way towards the edge of the bed as carefully as possible, trying not to wake Dean. Using gentle, hushed movements, I swung my feet over the edge of the bed intending to make my way down to the office. It was a little after 2:30 in the morning, but the rest I had gotten was more than I had for days. I remembered Dean carrying me up to bed, half-asleep after I had fallen asleep on the couch. I let out a surprised cry when Dean's hand slipped around my wrist, stopping me.

"Kiddo, get a few more hours," he mumbled when I tried to pull my arm away from him. I turned to him with tears brimming in my eyes. Dean was barely awake, but he woke quickly once he saw my tears. Though I was still plagued by dreams – of Crowley, of Sam, of the woman – the dreams weren't waking me. They had slowly but surely been lessening in intensity as the days wore on. But now a soft voice was bringing me to consciousness, growing more intense each time the voice cooed its message, "Do not worry my daughter, I am coming home."

"What is it?" Dean said as he sat up in the bed and turned on the light. I scooted back against the headboard and pulled my knees into my chest, shaking my head back and forth as my body shook. "You can talk to me, Nora," he said, wiping away the tears on my cheek with a thumb.

"I know," I answered with a shaky voice. Dean pulled me closer to him, pushing sweaty hair back from my face.

"Nora, talk to me," he begged, "You're freezing."

"I just want to go back to sleep," I muttered.

"Okay, kiddo," he relented, "It's okay, come here."

I inched closer to my brother and rested my head on his chest as he pulled a blanket around me. I waited there with his arm wrapped around me, wide awake, until his breathing became regular, quiet snores rumbling beneath my head. I didn't bother trying to squirm out of his grasp. In the quiet of Bobby's guestroom and in the comfort of my brother's presence, I allowed myself to feel safe, even though I knew he couldn't keep either the dreams or the voices at bay.

I sat on the window seat in Bobby's office staring at the google homepage on Sam's laptop. I had finished rearranging Bobby's books and had now been forced to find other ways to entertain myself. I didn't know where to start my search, but the idea of researching the problems made me feel productive. Deep down I knew the results would do nothing to calm my anxiety, but the process was a temporary distraction. I couldn't resist typing my concerns into the search bar. Hearing voices? Dreaming of childhood memories? How to stop nightmares? Am I adopted? The voice referred to me as daughter and I couldn't shake the thought. I couldn't help but study Dean's face in search of similarities to my own. We looked alike, there was no doubt in my mind, but still…the voice. The only realistic conclusion I could make was that I was, quite plainly, going insane and that everything that had happened to me had been too much to handle. I was mentally unstable. I was fit to be institutionalized. I barely acknowledged Bobby and Dean's presence in the room as I concentrated on sifting through the first page of search results- Hearing voices is an auditory hallucination that is the most common type of hallucination in people with psychotic disorders. I found myself carelessly biting at my fingernail as I scrolled through the page. I could have had a mental break. I wouldn't have doubted it.

"Dean."

The sound of his voice forced the bitter taste of bile to rise in my throat, burning as it traveled towards my mouth only to be choked back down. I feigned invisibility, willing his attention to stay on Dean. My heartrate soared, blood pumping loudly in my ears, bringing with it a distinct pain in my head. My mouth felt dry. Sam hadn't noticed me yet, his eyes focused so intently on Dean as he stood, hesitance enveloping him. I felt my back press against the cool window pane before I realized I was pushing myself backwards, away from Sam's presence in the room. I fleetingly cursed Bobby for not having curtains that I could use to conceal myself.

I wanted to run, but I couldn't find the conviction.

"Sammy?" Dean questioned. At the sound of his voice, Sam closed the distance between them and pulled Dean into a tight embrace. As Sam moved on to embrace Bobby, Dean's eyes found me, searching for a reaction, but I didn't have one. Out of the corner of my eye, I caught the end of Sam's embrace with Bobby. Sam followed Dean's gaze to my form.

"Nora?" he question.

I felt a part of me breakdown at hearing him speak my name. There was something in the tone, so soft, so hesitant, so gentle, so happy. The way Sam studied at me, it was obvious that he recognized a change. Physically, I was more mature, but I had a suspicion that Sam was reacting more to my scrawny form, the exhaustion and fear painted on my pale face as I stared back at him. I felt a familiar burn in my throat as a lump pushed for me to release a sob. The tears were demanding release, but I wouldn't allow them to come. I couldn't allow it.

When Sam stepped forward, I sprinted towards the front door. I knew that they could chase and catch me if they wanted to, but I didn't bother to check behind me as I ran. I focused on my labored breathing and the sound my shoes made on contact with the ground. That was all there was. The inhale. The exhale. Rubber on dirt. Rubber on grass. I slowed to a stop beyond the tree line, just inside the woods where I had been forbidden to play in as a child. Rays of daylight still trickled through into the clearing, fractured by naked winter branches. I regretted leaving without a coat now that I had stopped running and the cold consumed me.

"Hello, Princess."

A laugh escaped my lips at hearing the voice. These hallucinations were really getting to be too much. Any normal teenager would have been sent to a shrink by now, but we couldn't afford that. We solved our own problems anyway. The clearing of a throat stopped my laughter and I turned to see the familiar shiny dress shoes, the well-dressed form, the unkind, though handsome sneer and a pair of black eyes.

"What's so funny, Princess?"

"No," I said, shaking my head, "No, no, no. You're not real."

Bas stepped forward, forcing my back against one of the trees on the far edge of the clearing.

"Oh, Miss Winchester on the contrary, I assure you that I am very real."

His soft hand held my chin, forcing me to look up at him.

"You've been neglecting your responsibilities. You made a business deal."

"How did you find me?" I asked. I was supposed to be untraceable – by angels or demons. Bobby's land was protected. Castiel had seen to all of it. I was safeguarded.

Bas raised an eyebrow, "Don't insult me. Tell me about the dreams you've been having."

"The deal is done. Crowley cheated."

"A deal is a deal, my dear."

I shook my head, "No, I'm done with this. It's done. I'm not telling you anything," I argued.

"So there's something to tell then?"

I gulped, regretting use of the words, "No, there's nothing to tell."

Bas laughed at me with such casualness that I felt I was an insignificant, trivial task he needed to tick of his list, "Tell me," he said, as he forced my back to slam against the trunk of the tree. As we heard the voices calling my name, Bas turned away just for a second.

"They're looking for me," I said smugly.

"Let's deal with one thing at a time." He said as he took in a deep breath, his thumb absently brushing over my lip, "Now, where were we? Ah, yes. Tell me what I need to know."

"No!" I screamed, "Sa-!"

I had tried to call out for help. Sam's voice had been closer, louder, more desperate, more concerned. Bas's hand found my throat, squeezing until noise could no longer escape the pipe. Bas's eyes flashed back before he turned to face Sam as he came into the clearing, his hand still placed firmly on my throat.

"Welcome Sam. Nora has shared so much about you."

Bas had lessen the pressure on my throat, allowing small breaths. Bas was right. He knew more about Sam than I felt comfortable with, but that hadn't been my choice to share. Sam's eyes flashed to mine for a second. I tried to speak only for Bas to again stop the airflow with his hand. I struggled against his hand, pulling at his fingers with both hands. Bas paid me no attention as he watched Sam step further into the clearing.

"Let her go," Sam growled.

"Princess is learning a lesson right now. I'll let her go when finished."

I could hear their voices, but the sounds became muffled as the corner of my vision turned dark, like a vignette. I felt the sweat beading on my back, my neck and forehead. I was too hot, though the sweat felt cold on my skin. The high pitched squeal in my ear grew stronger then faded away, but somehow it all stopped. I was in a vacuum. I felt the ground beneath me as I curled my legs into my chest. My eyes caught a limp form fall to the ground beside me. I was too tired to distinguish who had fallen. My throat was too sore to call out.

The hands which grabbed me felt warm to the touch. In the dimness of the night, I couldn't distinguish their faces. The air that touched my skin and the ground beneath my bare feet felt warm.

"It's your lucky day, little girl."

"No, let me go," I argued, my voice hoarse. I was thirsty, the dry air making my throat sore. I fought against the grip the two men had on me, though I was too weak to overcome them.

'Do not fight, my daughter. I need you. We need your help.' It was the voice again. One of the men shook me, bringing my attention back to them.

"Did you hear me? I said you should be honored to be chosen by her."

"Let me go!" I fought against him. The heat was rising as he moved forward, towards the edge of a cliff. It was too warm, the rocks burned the soles of my feet. I received no answer as together, the men pushed me towards the edge. I braced myself for impact in the pit of lava. I hoped death would come quick. I hoped pain would be so great that I would pass out right away. I hoped that I would again get to see my father. I hoped I would see my mother.

There was no impact, only warm air and darkness. I felt the presence of another in the space. I felt the brush of pressure graze against my cheek.

"My Eleanora, how you've grown. You are ready."

I couldn't explain the pride I felt at the words. I knew the voice. I trusted the voice.

"Who are you?" I asked, reaching out for the presence though my hands returned to my side empty.

"We've known each other a long time, darling."

"Who are you?"

"All in good time, Eleanora. Keep questioning. We'll see each other soon. I promise."

Before I could process it, I was falling towards the orange glowing base of the pit, screams escaping my lips in shock as I plummeted to my death.

My screams continued even after I opened my eyes in Bobby's guest room. Sam stood above me, his hands placed on my shoulders, concern lacing his features. As I quieted, Sam's eyes searched mine. The vision of a body beside me on the dirt flashed in my mind.

"Bas," I whispered.

"Dead," Sam answered, "I used the demon blade. You're safe."

I felt guilty for the brief sense of confliction at Sam's admission. The demon Nybbas was dead and I should have been relieved, but instead I felt dread, anticipation of worse things to come. Bas was the evil I knew and far better than what was to come.

"Nora?"

I didn't move at the sound of my brother's voice as he sat beside me on the bed. The lack of verbal response and the lack of physical movement brought him down to my level. Sam pushed my hair back from my face, his hand gentle and tender as he let his hand rest on my cheek. The touch snapped me out of my trance.

"I'm so sorry, Nora," he said, his lips pulled down into a slight frown.

I didn't know what Sam was sorry for. Dean hadn't told him anything that had happened to me. There was too much at risk with Sam's "wall." But I didn't care what Sam was apologizing for. As he pulled his hand away, I grasped his it, holding it in my own. In a moment, every negative feeling I had towards Sam faded away. I couldn't explain it, maybe it was something in his voice, something in his touch, but I didn't want to fight it anymore. I didn't want to fear him. I didn't want to hate him. This Sam had a soul. This Sam's voice gave me hope. The conflicted look in his eye gave me hope. This was my Sammy. I pulled myself up and wrapped my arms around his chest. He let out a chuckle as he pulled me in close, his hand cradling my head as I dissolved into tears.

"What's wrong? What happened?" he asked, pulling away from me a little. I tried to move away, but Sam caught my face with his hand, turning it to catch a bit of the light that spilled into the room from the hallway. I shrugged my shoulders, wiping the tears from my eyes. Light flooded the room as Dean pulled the door ajar.

"Why didn't you tell me she was up?" Dean directed at Sam before turning to me, "You okay?" he asked as he strode forwards, pulling me into his arms, crushing me against his chest, "You can't just run off like that. It's not safe," he scolded lightly. Dean let me out of his grasp and stood in front of me, stopping in his tracks when he noticed the look on my face and the bruise on my neck.

"Are you okay, kiddo?" he asked again.

I couldn't find the words to answer, "Sam, what's-?" he prompted only to be cut off.

"I'm sorry, Dean. I screwed everything up. I fucked up and now I-." my voice was raspy and each word grated on my throat.

"Kiddo, chill. This isn't your fault. You didn't do anything-."

"No, I'm stupid. I-," I cried, my voice cracking and sore.

"Shss," Dean insisted, "Nora, a demon found you. That's not your fault. If I blame anyone, it's Cas. He was supposed to make sure- forget it. Just calm down. You've got to take it easy. Go take a shower. We'll have dinner and then we'll talk about it, okay kiddo? I don't want you getting all worked up."

When I was able to calm myself enough, I nodded my agreement and followed Dean's advice to take a hot shower. I needed time to think through my explanation, think of a way to spin this that it would make sense. I needed time to justify why I had kept it from him for so long. I had watched so many of them be scorned by devil deals and here I was stuck in one of my own. I couldn't imagine any scenario where this went well.

I pulled the brush through my hair, working out the knots aimlessly as I sat on the edge of the bed. My shower had given me time to calm down, time to realize how much trouble my admission was about to bring. It allowed regret to settle in. I had decided on writing it all out. That way the explanation was all there if I couldn't find the words. That way I wouldn't have to talk if my throat became too sore. That way we wouldn't have to discuss anything. It was all there for them to read. I headed downstairs in pajamas – one of Dean's old t-shirts and pink flannel pajama pants I had gotten years before. I hoped the ensemble would remind them of simpler times.

I sat down beside Bobby at the table and Dean placed a bowl of soup at my place before sitting across from me, besides Sam. I stirred the bowl, focusing my attention on the soup while they all talked.

"What's the last thing you remember, Sam?" Dean asked.

"The field," he paused, catching my eye and frowning, "I remember everything I did to you guys and then I remember falling."

"Okay and next?"

"Waking up in the panic room," Sam answered.

Bobby choked a little on the sip of beer he had taken, "That's it. You really don't remember-,"

"Let's be glad that's it. Let's be glad he doesn't have to remember hell, ok? Not everyone can be that lucky," Dean answered plainly, his gaze falling to me as I stared at him in awe, "You going to eat that or just keep stirring?"

I slurped a spoonful, "Ha…happy?" I croaked, having to clear my throat to finish the word.

Dean raised an eyebrow and I raised my hands in surrender as he turned back to his conversation.

"Well, how long was I gone?" Sam interrupted.

"About a year and a half," Dean said, turning his attention back to Sam.

"What?" I've been downstairs for – I don't remember anything? How did I get back? Cas?" he pressed.

"Not exactly," Dean answered, taking a long drink from his beer.

"Dean, what the hell did you do?" Sam's gaze moved around the room, locking with each of us in his conquest for the truth, "You better not have made some goddamn demon deal again," he said and I trained my eyes on my lap, feeling nausea rising at the mere mention of it.

"Well, me and Death-," Dean barely got the words out before Sam exploded, rising from his chair to tower above the table.

"WHAT? DEATH – THE HORSEMAN?"

"I had leverage. No risk. It's all done."

"It's all over. Slate's wiped completely clean."

"Nice and clean. Done and over just like that," the fakeness was oozing out of Bobby as he stood up from the table, sliding his dish into the sink, though neither of the boys really acknowledged it.

"Yes, for once in our lives, it is," Dean insisted.

"Anything else you all want to tell me?" Sam asked.

"Not from me. Nora's turn to share with the group," Dean said, gesturing to me.

I stood up from the table, walked to the fridge and took out three beers, sliding them to the center of the table. I stood away from the table, maintaining a clear pathway to the stairway in case things went south. I hesitated, wanting for their comfort and assistance on the matter, but also aware of my need for self-preservation.

"What is it, Nora?" I was surprised to hear Sam to be the one to prompt me.

"I-,"

Eleanora, do not tell them. A whimper escaped my lips. The voices had come while I was sleeping, not while awake. They were notorious for pulling me from slumber, not interrupting my reality.

"Nora," Dean said, moving to stand up and come closer.

I held up a hand to stop his movement towards me. I needed the distance in order to conjure up enough bravery to tell them. I had rehearsed long, detailed explanations in the shower which could have spared me some of the lecture sure to come, but instead I quickly mumbled, "I made a demon deal."

"You did what?" It was Dean who spoke first and this time he didn't let me stop him from moving towards me.

"Don't freak out yet, just let me explain," I whispered.

"You think this is freaking out? I'm nowhere near-"

"Dean, let her explain," Sam suggested quietly, offering me with an encouraging smile, "Go ahead, Nora."

Dean softened, but refused to sit back down, leaning against the wall a few feet away from me and crossing his arms across his chest as his scowl fell on me. My voice was already hoarse and I knew my voice wouldn't last through the explanation. I took the folded paper from my pocket and held it out for Dean to take.

"Read it," I breathed.

Dean obliged, reading the words aloud for Bobby and Sam to hear as well. Dean stood between me and the stairway, eliminating the possibility of my escape. I studied my feet while he read, avoiding their reactions. I felt tears warm on my cheeks before Dean finished reading.

"We'll fix this. I'll call Cas down and we'll take care of this," he said as he pulled me into his arms.