The bark of the tree was rough against my arms and back and there were roots and stones poking into my butt. I tried to move my arms, rubbing the ropes against the scratchy bark, but all it did was make the bare skin on my forearms sting.

Dad had told me to try and fight my way out of the ropes. He had tied me to a tree, and I had to try and figure out how to get away. I was sitting down and my legs were tied together too.

It was hot, and the air was heavy with humidity. I could feel sweat beading in my hairline and feel it dripping down my neck and stomach. I was thirsty and tired and I had to pee. I didn't want to do this, but he had said I had to. I had to practice in case I got taken by something.

I heard footsteps in the forest and looked up, panicking. Dad was walking towards me. He leaned over and looked behind me, and then slapped the side of my head. "You ain't even tryin'!" he snapped.

"Dad, p—please!" I burst out before I could stop myself. The harsh slap rocked my head to the side and my cheek began to sting. I couldn't help it, tears came to my eyes and began to drip down my face.

"You lazy little bitch! You wanna cry, I'll give you somethin' to cry about!" he grabbed my hair and slammed my head back into the tree trunk. I cried out and closed my eyes, expecting another blow.

I heard a metallic sound, and opened my eyes. Dad had his knife out, and he leaned over again, and then I felt a white-hot pain in my arm.

I cried out again, and he moved around and grabbed my throat. "Now shut—the fuck—UP," his breath was hot on my face, and smelled like whiskey and rotting meat. He pulled a bandana out of a pocket and shoved part of it in my mouth, tying it around the back of my head.

I was panting, feeling scared, wanting to beg him to let me go as he walked away.

I tried to get out of the ropes again, wracking my brain to remember what he had told me before. I couldn't remember anything. I was so fucking stupid, no wonder he got angry with me all the time.

I could feel liquid dripping down my arm. He had cut me, and I didn't know why. I tried to calm down, slow my breathing. My nose was getting plugged up from crying and it was hard to breathe, and it didn't help, having a cloth stuffed in your mouth.

And then I figured out what he was doing. I heard movement in the underbrush, branches snapping, and snuffling, and saw something lumbering towards me.

I didn't know what it was- some kind of weird mix of creatures. It was huge and had a snout like a pig, but it had longer legs than a pig. The skin was a dark grayish brown and it had dark patches of scruffy fur on parts of its body, and stubs on its head that could be the start of antlers. It moved like a dog, sniffing along the ground, but it grunted like a pig. It came over to me, and I could smell it suddenly- a sharp, tangy musk that made my eyes water.

The creature came up to me and snuffled at my feet, and I stayed still, terrified that if I moved it would attack me. Then it moved up and sniffed my legs. It moved over and sniffed the ground next to me, grinding its teeth, and I felt its sharp whiskers on my arm. And then, oh geez, I felt it- and heard it- it was licking me, it was licking the blood off of my arm, what if it bit me next-

I tried to push the rising panic down, tried not to start squirming, but I couldn't help the sounds that were coming out of my throat.

I heard the sound of something slicing through the air, and suddenly an arrow was sticking out of the shoulder of the creature. It reared its head up and gave a loud squeal, and then my dad was there with a huge knife, and he started hacking at the creature. I closed my eyes as the blood began to spatter across my body- Dad cut the ropes and grabbed my shoulders, shaking me- "You stupid bitch, you almost fucked things up again!"

I tried not to cry, but I couldn't help it, I screamed, and his hand came at me-

"ZAN!" I felt hands on my shoulders, giving me a shake, "Zan, wake up!"

I opened my eyes. Mr. Winchester was standing above me, holding my shoulders, and Sam was hovering next to him. They both looked worried.

"You awake?" Mr. Winchester asked me.

I nodded and opened my mouth to say something, and instead I burst into tears.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled me to him, holding me against his chest.

I slid my arms around him and clung to his flannel as I cried.

"You were having a nightmare, it's okay, you're safe now," he murmured to me, rubbing my back.

"He—he tied me up, said I hadda get outta the ropes, I was tied to a tree, hadda practice the ropes, but he—he- it was so he could lure a creature out, he—he cut my arm an' it bled, and the—the m-monster came up to me, an', an' it- it was licking the blood off my arm, and I was so—scared-" I was shuddering as I talked.

"Shh, shh, take a deep breath, you're going to make yourself sick."

"Then—he-shot it—with a- a-arrow an' I felt- it- go right past—my head- he k-killed it an' the—blood-went-ev-everywhere-"

"All right, all right...shh, it's just a memory, you're safe now...shh..." Mr. Winchester soothed me.

"I—f-fucked up again, he was m-mad, he, he smacked me—I can't d-do nothin' right—I'm j-just a f-fuck—up-" my chest hitched with sobs.

His voice was quiet as he smoothed the hair on the back of my head. "No, no, you're not a fuck up...you're a little girl who doesn't know how to hunt...he shouldn't have had you there with him...shh, it's all right, you're all right, sweetheart."

I leaned into his chest as I calmed down, and sighed. He placed his palm on my forehead for a moment.

"Your fever's down for the moment, that's good. Do you feel like drinking something?"

"O—okay," I agreed.

"Sam," he said, and Sam brought over a bottle of Gatorade. He removed the lid and handed it to me.

My hands were shaking, and Mr. Winchester steadied them as I took a drink.

I handed Sam the bottle, and he put the lid back on.

"You want to lay back down?" Mr. Winchester asked.

"No, be with you," I put my arms around him again.

"I've got to get the sheets into the laundry," he said, looking down at me.

"I'll do it, Dad, it's okay," Sam said.

Mr. Winchester shifted me, and I clung to him. "Wanna stay with you, Papa Bear. Safe with you," I murmured.

He chuckled, low in his chest, and I felt it. "All right, I'll sit with you," he said.

I buried my face in his flannel chest and closed my eyes.

Dean and I both had one more big bout of vomiting. At night my fever would go up, and I would have disjointed dreams and wake up sweating and shaking. Dean had bad dreams too, I heard him muttering and crying out in his sleep sometimes.

I woke up at one point with a bad headache. I could hear what sounded like the metallic clinking of weapons being moved around.

I heard Mr. Winchester talking, "I'll take these and see if I can get a good price on them. If a pawn shop won't give me what I want, I know of a couple hunters in the area who'll look at them. If the clerk bothers you again, tell him he'll get his money tomorrow."

"Okay, Dad," Sam said.

I heard the door opening and closing, and then I drifted back to sleep.

A knocking on the door startled me awake. I opened my eyes and sat up as Sam walked over to the door. He opened it a couple of inches. "Yes?"

I couldn't hear what the person outside was saying.

"Sir, my family is still sick...yes, I know you want more of a deposit...I told you-" Sam glanced back at me, and then opened the door and stepped outside.

I looked over at the other bed. Dean's eyes were open, and he looked at me. "Where's Dad?" he asked.

"He went out," I told him.

Dean rolled over and sat up, looking worried. "I need to talk to him...I had a dream-" he swallowed uneasily, "I need to see him, make sure he's all right-"

I got out of bed and went over to his bed, sitting down facing him. "It's okay, Dean," I put my arms around him. He hugged me back and rested his head on my shoulder.

"It'll be okay, Dad will be back soon," I said softly to him. Dean sighed and I felt his shoulders relax.

The voices outside were raised now. The door opened suddenly and Sam came in quickly, shutting the door hard.

"Stupid son of a bitch," he muttered, and then he looked over at us. "Hey," he came over to the bed, "How are you both feeling?"

Dean let me go and sat up. "M'okay, where's Dad?"

Sam looked uneasy. "Well...the credit cards are maxed out, so he went out to try and sell some stuff. The manager's been bugging us about a security deposit because of how sick you guys were. I think one of the maids told him the room was messy or something."

"Oh...sorry," I said.

"Don't worry about it, it's not your fault. You guys didn't get sick on purpose, you know?" Sam smiled at me.

Dean scratched his head and ran his hand through his hair. "Well, I'm feelin' mostly better. I wanna take a shower, and I'm actually hungry."

"I can make you some soup," Sam said.

"I don't want soup. I want a burger and fries and a beer," Dean grinned.

"Dean, that's not a good idea, you might end up puking again if you eat that."

"I know, but I can't help it if that's what I want!" Dean patted my shoulder, "I'm gonna get up and take a shower."

I moved off of his bed and laid down on the other bed. I felt dizzy and out of it. He walked over to his duffle and got out some clothes, and then went into the bathroom.

We were sitting on the sofa watching a John Wayne movie when the door opened. Mr. Winchester came in carrying a white paper bag. "Sam, I brought some dinner- oh, you're both up."

Dean got up and walked over to him, grabbing him in a hug.

"Dean, what's-" Mr. Winchester said.

Dean began to talk to him in a low voice, clutching at his jacket.

"It's all right, Dean, it's in the past," Mr. Winchester said quietly, "I know, son, it's okay," he patted Dean's back and hugged him.

Dean let him go and they walked over to us. "How are you feeling, Zan?" Mr. Winchester asked me.

"Still kinda shaky," I told him.

"Dean had 2 cans of soup and a ton of crackers, Zan drank some broth," Sam reported.

"Good. You two still need to take it easy," Mr. Winchester reached into the bag, "Sam, they had a Caesar salad, so I got it for you," he handed Sam a plastic container.

"Thanks, Dad," Sam said.

"Got a cheeseburger in there for me?" Dean joked.

"No, Dean, I think you should wait on that."

"I know, Dad," Dean sat down next to me, sighing.

"If neither of you vomit, and your fevers stay down, I think we should leave tomorrow. I know that you'll still need to rest, but I want to get out of here and away from the jackass manager," Mr. Winchester told us, "Zan, do you feel up to showering?"

"Uh, I guess," I said.

After I showered I felt worn out. I dressed in clean pajamas and laid down in bed.

Mr. Winchester came over and leaned down. "You feeling okay?"

"Just tired now," I yawned.

"All right, get some sleep," he said. I reached out and put my arms around him, and he hugged me back.

"Night, Papa Bear," I whispered.

He let me go and I laid down, and then he pulled the covers up to my shoulders. I fell asleep listening to them talk.

~ ~ spn ~ ~ spn ~ ~

We had spent the past couple of days on the road. Dean was better, but I was still feeling weak and shaky. I still wasn't able to eat a lot, and spent a lot of time dozing in the back seat while we were traveling. The motels we stopped at in the evenings had all blurred together for me. Even though I didn't do much, I was still exhausted by the time we got a room, and I slept heavily every night.

The area we had stopped in tonight was "a tourist trap" according to Mr. Winchester. There were lots of brightly lit restaurants, bars, and shops.

The three of them had gone out tonight to play pool. Dean told me that that was one way that they got money sometimes, and if the three of them went together, but then acted like they weren't together, they could trick people by betting against each other and make more money that way. I didn't quite understand it.

I had found a channel showing Disney movies and was watching the one about all the dalmatians when someone banged on the door. I startled and cried out.

"Jenny! Jenny, talk to me!" a man yelled, and banged on the door again. The doorknob rattled, and my stomach twisted with nerves.

"Jenny, c'mon, don't be like that, open up!" he banged on the door again.

I got up and walked cautiously over to the door.

"Jenny, c'mon!" the man yelled, and the doorknob rattled again.

I took a deep breath. "G-go away!" I shouted.

"Jenny? Babe?" the man called.

"No! No, there's no one named Jenny here, go away!" I yelled.

"C'mon, babe, open up!"

"I told you there's no Jenny here!" I yelled, "Go away!"

I held my breath to see what he would do. I heard footsteps, and it was quiet. I exhaled, my shoulders slumping with relief, and went back over to the sofa. I felt on edge now, worried that the man would come back. What if he broke into the room? What if he got a manager to come in and they saw me here alone?

The movie ended, and then the movie about the talking toys started. I hummed along to the opening theme. Iz had liked that song and used to try to sing it, but she hadn't known most of the words.

There was banging on the door, louder this time. "Jenny!" the man shouted, "I know you're in there! Come on!"

I didn't know what to do. The man sounded angry now, and it scared me.

He banged on the door again. "C'mon, don't be a bitch, open up!"

The doorknob rattled, and then there was a loud crash against the door. "Open the fucking door!" the man yelled. The doorknob rattled again harder.

"Jenny-" he said in an anguished voice. Then there was more loud pounding. He wouldn't stop, for a long time.

I covered my ears with my hands, trying to block out the sound, my stomach twisting in knots.

Finally it stopped. "I'll be back, bitch," the man said loudly.

I stood up. I felt panicked- what would he do if he came back again? I hurried across the room, to the dresser where the duffles were, and rifled through one of them, finding a .22 buried amidst the flannels and jeans.

I walked back over to the sofa and sat down with the gun in my hands. If the guy came back and tried to break in I'd be ready for him.

I picked up the remote and flipped through the channels, trying to find something else to watch to distract myself. I found one of the old-fashioned Godzilla movies that Dean liked and watched that, but it was boring.

I felt myself getting tired. I wanted to stay alert, stay awake in case the guy came back, but all the adrenaline I had felt earlier was gone.

I woke up with a jerk when I heard the key in the lock. Right away my nerves jumped, and I felt confused for a moment about where I was.

I could hear someone talking on the other side of the door- had they called out 'house-keeping'? Oh no-

I leapt up and rushed over towards the door—I was gonna be ready this time—no-one was gonna hurt me again-I planted my feet wide, dropped my shoulder like Mr. Winchester had showed me, and held the gun up as the door swung open.

"-thought that skinny guy was gonna kick your-" Dean was saying as he came into the room.

Sam saw me first, and he got a shocked look on his face."Zan!" he said loudly, putting his hands up.

Dean turned his head towards me and his eyes widened.

Mr. Winchester came in behind them. "What the hell are you doing?" he barked.