A/N: Vivi here! This is the third time I've tried to post this chapter. First time, weird coding showed up. Second time, I accidentally deleted half of it (not from the original copy, but still). I'm trying to make formatting happen again. Bear with me.

Shout out to ngregory763, Happygoddess2003, LiraXD, and hardygirl87 for reviewing the last chapter! I loved hearing what you thought about it! Sorry I didn't message back. Crazy summer. Sigh.

And now, the moment you've all been waiting for... Family Practice. It's a longer chapter. Has some swearing. Consider yourself warned. Also, we're still in omniscient POV. Enjoy!


Previously on Family Practice:

Sam blinked a few times, a blank expression on his face.

"Where is she? Sam, where's Li?"


Dean's tone took a more desperate turn as he seemed to lose Sam altogether. Sure, he was still breathing and making eye contact, but he seemed to have shut down. Not good. "Shit."

Dean craned his neck to search the room, but found no sign of Ali.

Sam couldn't remember putting his arm around Dean, but he was glad he had because the vertigo was back. That's when he decided to speak up.

"Blood. There was- was blood on the floor." His voice was quiet but Dean heard every word.

Dean's blood ran cold.

"I'm gettin' you outta here. C'mon." Dean mostly carried Sam out the black doors, internally cursing some random bachelor party for taking so long exit ahead of them. When they finally made it to the outer doors, Steve the bouncer gave them a confused look and reached out to stop them.

"Hey-"

"We don't have time for this, dude." Dean snapped, his legs already beginning to ache with the effort of carrying his none too little little brother.

"Listen, asshole. That cousin a yours went bumblin' into the side alley a while ago. Haven't seen her since and it's a dead end. Shady shit is bad press. You gettin' what I'm sayin'?" Steve growled in a low voice so that no one leaving the club could hear.

"Got it." Dean answered, both glad and beyond worried at this new information. Steve let them go and Dean dragged Sam straight for the alley.

Not her too.

She was there alright.

On the ground, against the wall, surrounded by the bachelor party guys.

"Hey!" Dean shouted, settling Sam against the brick at the entrance of the dead end alley.

"Finders's keepers." One of the men laughed, sticking his tongue out at Dean as he tried to tug her from her position against the wall. His knuckles were white. She'd have bruises.

They probably wouldn't even remember what happened tomorrow.

Dean drew his pistol from its place at the back of his belt and pointed it directly at the biggest threat. The one touching his sister. "Back up." He growled as he slowly approached the group.

One of the men, a blond, turned and saw the gun but didn't react for a solid three seconds. When he realized what was going on, his eyes got wide and he started thumping the back of the man who was touching Allison. "Bro, I think we better-"

"Step off, Drew. I found her." The man said, swaying as he jerked at Ali's arms again.

Dean cocked the pistol with a click that echoed finality up and down the side street.

The man looked up and immediately released Ali's arms, stumbling back a few steps before falling flat on his ass. "Y-you can 'ave her. Jus' don' shoot me. I got a girl and a tot back home that need me, man." The man had his arms raised, head turned, and eyes closed, nearly crying in front of all of his friends. The picture of family support.

"Fuck off." Dean said loudly, motioning with his pistol towards the exit of the dead end alley. Over the years, Dean had learned to control the situation first and deal with unnecessary emotions whenever they got to the bar. He really, really wanted to hurt this dude, but he was human. Probably. And Dad said to never knowingly hurt a human.

Even if you really, really wanted to.

Most of the group turned tail and ran, making scared, drunk noises as they shoved at each other to get to the front of the mob and away from Dean. The father figure just sat cowering where he fell.

"That includes you, asshole." Dean said as he put his gun away and went to check on Ali.

The man was slow, but Dean's back had been turned as he tried to wake his friend from the same stupor that seemed to have gotten to Sam. Dean's head smacked hard into the brick wall above Ali's head when the jerk jumped on his back and wrapped his arms around Dean's neck. Shrill ringing and angry white spots popped up on impact, but even as his amulet took a chip off of a brick in front of him from the force of the impact, Dean stayed calm.

It was a move Dad had trained both boys to counter with ease. They hated practicing on each other, but the muscle memory came in handy more often than Dean wanted to admit. As he had in several practice sessions with Sammy over the years, Dean stood, taking the man with him. He turned away from the wall, gripped the man's arms behind his own neck, and bent quickly, pulling hard on the man as he straightened his legs to propel the man over his head.

The ass landed on his back with a resounding thump and a pained groan. Dean felt sorry for the pavement.

"What did I say?" Dean bellowed, more than a tinge of anger penetrating his tone. He stood tall and towered over the man, knowing that in this light, the jerk couldn't see his face. Not that he would remember what it looked like in the morning anyway. Alcohol from his breath could be smelled a good five feet away.

"Please don' kill me." The man, who was now leaking tears, begged as he lay on his back. He reminded Dean of an overturned turtle; limbs flailing, rocking back and forth, a general look of distress.

"I said, 'Fuck off'. What part of that didn't you understand?" Dean asked, nudging the man firmly with his foot. Can't help her until he leaves. Can't risk another half-assed attack. If I fall on her, I could do even more damage…

"Please, please…" The man, now in a full blown panic attack, sobbed through gasps and tears and snot.

"Leave!" Dean shouted, kicking him lightly in the ribs. Not hard enough to leave a mark. Just hard enough to hurt.

This time, the father-of-the-year rolled over and scrambled to his feet, limping as quickly as he could towards the road. Dean pulled his gun just in case, and was glad he did. The man saw Sam, who was still slumped at the mouth of the alley, and started to move towards him with his fists balled. Dean cocked the gun, it's click echoing menacingly along the bricks, and the man magically straightened his course, stumbling out into the road and out of sight.

Just to be safe, Dean brought Sam closer to Ali before doing anything else.

"Li." Dean knelt beside the still form and took ahold of her shoulder. Her skin was cool to the touch; not a good sign. On top of that, he could already see two bright red, angry handprints on her arms. "Wake up." There was no response from the woman, but the man beside her groaned and wrapped his arms around his stomach.

"Not again." Dean hoped no one saw them. He really hoped that guy and his pals hadn't called the police. Maybe he shouldn't have pulled a gun on them. Worth it. "You gonna lose it?" Dean asked.

Sam shook his head but didn't open his eyes. Maybe… Maybe the curse or whatever is letting up? Could be just a warning to stop looking and leave. Like that's gonna happen.

"Rise and shine, Princess." Dean shook her shoulder gently and glanced back towards the entrance of the alley. They couldn't stay much longer. Not only were there possibly police on the way, the wind through the city was cold enough to make little clouds of Dean's breath. He was grateful for the black leather jackets Sam suggested they get for this whole 'clubbing' case, but Li had virtually no protection from the icy breeze. She'd worn Sam's jacket on the way to the club. Without a second thought, Dean shrugged off his jacket and wrapped it around his friend.

Why did I park on the other side of town? Dean mentally kicked himself even though he knew it was a good way to hide their identities and protect themselves. Now though, it seemed like the best way to get them hurt and put in jail for public drunkenness. If we go to the station, we'll get more than disorderly conduct. They'll find out who we are. Li could be killed. All because I parked the car so damned far away.

"Sorry Li, we don't have time for this." Dean apologized, a renewed sense of urgency giving him a burst of adrenaline. I'll take care of you once we're safe. Promise. Just hold on.

"D'n."

"You actually comin' back, Sammy boy?" Dean asked loudly as he took Ali under the arms to lift her onto his shoulder. He figured that would be the easiest way to get both she and Sam back to the Impala. One shoulder for Ali, one arm to support Sam. Dean could do it. He had to.

"Where'e?" Sam slurred, his head bumping back against the brink as he slowly looked around.

"Alley beside the club. I found Li. We're getting outta here." Dean said as he gently set Ali on his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her legs, which were in front of him, and hoped that she wouldn't puke down his back. "C'mon. You gotta help me help you." Dean offered Sam a hand just as he felt Ali's body tense up.

It happened fast. Faster than Dean had expected. In the blink of an eye, Ali went from being a still, compliant weight on Dean's shoulder to a mass of thrown elbows and projectile feet.

"Li, stop. Calm down. It's me- It's Dean! Hey-" Dean tried to keep her from falling, thinking he would set her down when she stopped flailing so much. The woman had other plans. She bucked and kicked and threw punches that would probably leave little fist shaped bruises on Dean's back before finally connecting one of her heels with Dean's face. "Dammit!" Dean cried out, using one hand to protect his face. One hand was not enough to keep the ball of rage on his shoulder.

Dean dropped Ali. Actually, she launched herself off the back of his shoulder, but of course that's not how he saw it.

"Shit-" Dean gasped, turning just in time to see her body fall flat on the hard ground. A landing like that would give anyone a headache at the least; she hit arms first, then head when her arms failed to cushion the fall, and then her shoulder connected before she finally flopped belly up into a small puddle, undoubtedly soaking the dress. Great. Now she has a concussion and probably a separated shoulder. Dean ignored the small cut on his face and reached down to pull her now deathly still body out of the puddle.

Instead, he was splashed with water.

She was up and running faster than Dean thought possible, sprinting out of the alley. At one point, she looked back at him and screamed bloody murder, as if he were the most terrifying thing she'd ever seen. His jacket fluttered off her shoulders in a particularly brisk gust, landing with a soft woosh on the pavement.

Dean was speechless, frozen in shock, watching as she rounded the corner and disappeared. "The hell just happened?" He muttered, absently pressing a few fingers over the cut on his face. It was bleeding and he didn't want to look suspicious while dragging bodies back to the car.

"Go." Sam looked up at him, snapping him out of his stupor.

"What?"

"Go get 'er. She's halluc-natin'." Sam said, concentrating very hard on pronouncing the words correctly. He still felt weird, very weird, but at least his stomach didn't want to see the outside world anymore. And he wasn't as tired as he had been earlier.

"You gonna be okay here?" Dean asked quickly.

Sam nodded, though he was anything but sure. If he had to guess, he'd say that he couldn't stand at the moment, much less walk or fight. Talking was an ordeal in itself. But Ali needed Dean now more than he did. And Ali's safety came before Sam's lack of confidence in himself.

Dean handed his gun to Sam, who had refused to bring one because 'What if someone sees it and freaks out?'. "Don't use it unless you have to." With that statement Dean was gone, running out of the dark alley in the direction he'd last seen the woman in the blue dress go. On his way past, Dean grabbed his jacket from the pavement, intent on returning it to those bare shoulders.


In his lifetime, Dean had run quite a lot. Run from things, or towards them. Run to save lives or just for fun. Done sprints with Sam as training or those awful ten mile punishment runs with Dad when he got caught pulling pranks on Sam. It was fifteen miles if he got caught pranking Dad. Running a part of his life and Dean accepted that.

However, this run was somewhat… different.

Ali had never run this fast during her training. She was actually outrunning Dean, who was growing more and more concerned with each corner he turned searching for her. Once in a while, he would hear the pounding clicks of heels on pavement and follow those, or he'd catch a glimpse of sparkling blue stained a muddy brown and change his path. In one alley between two late night bars, Dean even found two small splotches of fresh blood on the brick floor with the rubber plug of a heel wedged between two bricks about eighteen inches behind it.

Now though, forty minutes into the chase, he had no clue as to where she could have gone. There was no sign of her.

Dean had lost Ali. Again.

He just hoped he would be the first one to find her.

"Dammit, Li." Dean grumbled as he came to rest against the side of a brick building. This early in the morning, it was so cold Dean could see his breath. Every pant was a fresh reminder that Sam was still back there, outside, and Li was probably collapsed somewhere just working toward hypothermia.

What if I don't get there in time? Dean wondered for the third time that evening. She's already bleeding. It's freezing out. Her head's all screwed up. There's no way she can make it on her own right now. What if… What if I don't find her at all? And some pervert kidnaps her? The thought made Dean shiver even more than he had in the past hour, even with his coat back around his own shoulders. His chest clenched up and a fresh surge of adrenaline kicked in. No more kidnappings. I'll find her first.

"Li?" Dean yelled, against his better judgement, as he rounded the corner of the building. If Sam came out of it so quickly, maybe she will too. She's probably fine, back at the club with Sam right now.

Even though he focused on the best outcome, Dean didn't turn back toward the club. "Li?"

For ten more minutes he called for her, jogging slowly around the city, being shushed by sleepy faces behind window screens and glared at by late night workers coming and going. Peering into every alley, trying to catch a glimpse into every car, squinting far down roads, and looking up fire escapes. Still, he found no sign of her.

"No. No no no. She can't- she can't just be gone. She can't just poof out of existence, right?" Dean asked himself as he slowed to a stop and pressed his numb fingers into his hair as a kind of comfort mechanism he'd been doing since he was four. He felt his chest tighten again, but this time his eyes started to sting too. Slowly, he moved toward the nearest wall and rested his forehead against it, eyes firmly closed. "No way she's gone. I'll find her. I have to find her. If Sammy finds out-"

"Jus' sleep. Got… gotta sleep…" Dean's head whipped up, his eyes flew open, as the softest wisp of a voice caught his ear. He turned a circle, trying to figure out where it had come from, but it was lost. The voice was gone.

"Li? C'mon, give me somethin' to go off of. Just give me a sound, a word, anything." Dean muttered to himself as he slowly scanned the area. All around were little shops and lobbies for big businesses in the skyscrapers that towered above them. Street lights yielded scant puddles of visible signs and storefronts, but most of the area was in darkness. Dean wasn't sure where to even start looking; he was halfway between two blocks, with three alleys and four roads that he could see which could pass as within earshot. A delivery truck rumbled by and he got the urge to throw a brick at it, but there was a gross lack of loose brick in his immediate vicinity, so he resisted. It took forever for the truck to get far enough away for him to hear the wind whipping around corners of buildings again.

"Gotta sleep." The voice, carried by the wind, lofted by him a second time. He turned on a dime and started running upwind, back the way he'd come.

"Li?" He shouted, hoping that if the voice really was her, she would be lucid enough to recognize him and reply.

No such luck.

Dean sprinted and yelled, pausing at each alley and road he passed to take a good long look before moving on. She's talking, she's okay. She's gonna be fine. She's gonna be okay. Dean told himself as he listened for another hint. "Li?" He called down a particularly dark, hauntingly smelly alleyway. Gotta be like five dumpsters in there. Good place to hide from vamps, though. Stink has a way of masking scent. Lesser of two evils, I guess.

As the hunter was about to move on, a small glimmer of blue caught his eye, just barely bright enough to pierce the darkness of what appeared to be a block-long alley. Dean's heart leapt into his throat and he took a few hurried steps towards the sparkling color. "Li?" He asked, softer this time.

The only response was that same phrase he'd been chasing for the past few minutes. "Gotta sleep."

It's her! It has to be! Dean raced down the alley, willing his eyes to adjust on the spot, until he could clearly see the outline of the person in the blue dress. "Li?"

The woman was stumbling along stiffly until she came to a stop and glanced over her shoulder at him. Her familiar, steely blue eyes grew wide.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. Remember me?" Impossibly, her eyes got even wider. "I'm Dean." Very slowly, as if approaching a wild animal, Dean edged closer to her until he could reach out and touch her arm. As gently and quickly as he could, he wound his fingers around her bicep and established a strong grip without alarming her. The temperature of her skin was shocking; it felt almost as cold as the brick against his forehead had been. "I'm gonna get you home, okay? Get you warmed up."

Ali continued to stare at him with terror dancing in her eyes.

Now that Dean had a firm hold on his target, he could look her up and down. A quick damage check. Her fingers were bloody. Knees bloody. Shoulders scratched up. The hand prints from before were getting darker and there was a new one, just above Dean's hand, and another one, very prominent, across her face.

Rage pulsed through Dean as he realized some asshole had tried to hurt her. Someone had slapped her after he lost track of the novice hunter. "You're gonna be okay, Li. I gotcha." Dean moved very slowly and began shucking his jacket, hoping to stave off hypothermia, or at least slow it down. She wasn't shivering at all.

Apparently that movement was the straw to break the camel's back. Ali ripped her arm out of his grasp with a burst of strength that Dean hadn't thought she could generate before running again, full tilt toward a soupy dumpster that Dean had smelled from the mouth of the alley.

Dean took off after her. "No! Hey! Don't you do that-" His voice was commanding; there was no way Dean had the time to get that stank out of his leather seats. If she jumped in, he'd have to go in after her and the car would smell for months.

However, she didn't do what Dean expected her to do. No attempt was made to jump into the reeking thing. Instead she angled her run for the back of it, where a nasty puddle of garbage juice had accumulated between the bin and the brick wall. Dean ran faster than he ever had in his life, knowing that somehow, a worse situation was unfolding.

Ali slipped in the green-brown sludge.

Her head connected with the corner of the green box and sent a reverberating clang up and down the side street.

She fell on her side into the puddle, body slouched against the dumpster between it and the wall.

Then… she didn't move.

Dean was there just a few seconds later. Gently, he pushed her body against the back wall so he could see her face. A slack expression greeted him. It was a good thing her eyes were closed, because now her head was bleeding down her face.

"Li?" Dean asked, desperately trying to keep the shake out of his voice. "We gotta go." No response. "I need you to wake up."

No response.

With panic rising in Dean's stomach, he pulled his friend into a sitting position and out from behind the dumpster. Panic was familiar to Dean, but usually he could ignore it. It was instinctual. It was unnecessary. The only time he listened to it was when Sam was hurt. If he panicked when Sam was hurt, then it was bad and he knew they needed to get the hell outta Dodge. In those instances, it had proven itself useful.

Now, though, Dean wasn't sure what unnerved him more; the fact that Ali was unresponsive, or that her actions within the past hour could be viewed from the outside as a suicide attempt.

Maybe this was how the monster worked.

After wrapping his jacket around his icicle of a friend and zipping it all the way up this time, Dean produced a small silver knife from his boot. He took a deep breath and pressed it to the skin of her bare leg.

Nothing.

A few drops of holy water from a flask in his jacket had the same effect.

"What the hell are we dealing with in this town?" Dean wondered. Then he shook his head. "Not important right now. Get with it, man." A small, black cell phone from Dean's jacket found its way to his hand. He had to check on Sam.

It rang four times before someone picked up, their voice heavy with exhaustion. "Dee?"

Dean's face showed a picture of pure confusion, mixed with some obvious relief. "Dee? You haven't called me that since you were two, man."

"I found the 'pala." The voice on the other end was slow, like Sam had to concentrate on every word.

Still, his words left Dean with even more confusion. "What?"

"I'm in the car."

There was a long silence. "Whose car, Sam?"

"Yours."

"Sam, I have the key. How did you get in my car?" Dean asked, more than a little anxious about the answer.

"I'll pay for the window."

"Dammit Sam. You can't just go smashin' my baby like that." Dean growled, an angry flush filling his face. "Are you safe, at least? Nobody bothered you?"

"Yeah."

"How did you get to the car? We didn't exactly park close."

"I walked. Against walls, mostly. Fell a couple times."

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose, amazed that Sam hadn't gotten arrested yet. "Look, I found Li. Again. We're gonna make our way to you."

"Where are you?" Sam asked.

Dean tried to remember the street signs he'd passed most recently. Keeping track of his direction was something he always tried to do; it was easier by far in a city. "Main and Fifth. Should take us… maybe half an hour to get to you." Dean said as he watched Ali's face for any signs of movement. Part of him hoped for motion, but part of him dreaded it. If she moved, he might drop her again. And he really, really didn't want to do that.

"I'll be there." Sam said just before he hung up.

"What?" Dean snapped. Immediately, he tried to call Sam back, but got no answer. "No, Sam, don't walk all the way here just to… Oh, hell no. He is not going to hotwire my baby. Dammit."

Sure enough, not five minutes later, Sam drove into the alley, narrowly missing the walls as he wove back and forth trying to miss hitting the back of the car on the cobbler's shop. Dean and Ali were sitting at the mouth of the alleyway, with her curled up on his lap, her head against his chest, still dead to the world. At least she had started to shiver again.

"Is she okay?" Sam asked from the driver's seat, through the broken passenger side window, as the car continued to idle loudly.

"No. Move over." Dean snapped. He stood, carrying Ali in his arms. Once Sam dragged himself across the bench, Dean set Ali between he and his brother. "Keep her upright. Try to wake her up." He snapped, still furious about his car being hotwired, his window smashed, and his seats defiled. Fix it later. I can fix it later. He kept telling himself, taking deep, calming breaths.


A/N: I hope the formatting worked. This is the first time in a while I've had time to fiddle with it. Leave a review for me pretty pretty please! I love hearing what you're thinking! Also, there's a big, much anticipated chapter coming up soon. Until next time...