It took Amy a full minute before she took another breath. Another nine before she stopped crooning her twin's name under her breath. A further twenty long moments before she stopped crying. All in all, it took the broken girl an hour to move from her spot on the marble floor.

Ben didn't know what to do. He'd never seen her break like this before. She'd stormed out on her birthday, dyed her hair, sure. She'd sworn at Crowley, a little before she shattered. She shrieked at a raven - but that was more pain than anything else.

Amy hadn't broken then. And right now, she was in pieces.

So he sat there. About six feet away, in the chair. He'd tried patting her shoulder, but she'd stopped breathing again so he backed off. And Ben waited.

"Did I ever tell you about my parents?"

It was abrupt, and somehow her voice wasn't cracked or rasped. Just bland. Ben shook his head.

"They weren't rocket scientists or anything fabulously important to society. Just normal people, really. Sometimes, my father would help my grandfather set up charity drives at the church."

Ben stayed silent. He didn't like the look in her eyes, worse than her birthday when she came home with streaks of white littering the chestnut of her hair.

"I never helped him much. I'd go to the park and stretch and get my butt muddy and come home and pretend I'd done something meaningful."

"You're doing something meaningful now," Ben murmured, the same way he would talk to a wounded animal. "You're saving people, hunting things." and the words fell from his mouth like worn paper, written over and heard over and tired.

Amy didn't seem to hear him. "And my mother loved to bake. She'd always make pumpkin raisin muffins and I hated raisins. I'd tell her that. And by the time I'd decided to stay back for a victory lap at high school I hated the pumpkin muffins too. Good thing, isn't it? That I tore my kitchen apart before I tore my parents apart. I won't ever have to eat those muffins again."

"Amy," Ben reached for her arm, tried to reach her somehow but she was moving for the first time and talking over his "that wasn't you-"

"And I hadn't gone and seen any of Tate's gradings - he was in karate, I think I told you - for three years because I hated the stupid," and she demonstrated it then, over-exaggerated pshhh, "sound they made every time they moved. I told him that too. Are you supposed to tell your family everything you hate about them?"

"Amy," Ben tried again. "Amy, they knew you didn't hate them. You can't-"

"Oh," she sang. "Oh, oh, yes. Knew. They knew. Suppose it didn't matter what they knew when I killed them? I used my nails - Mummy always used to nag at me for not cutting them - and used them to rip their intestines out. I got guts all over my father's favourite green fleece. I always planned on stealing that when I went off to college. Guess I won't now, hmm?"

"Oh, Amy." Ben stood, tried to step towards her, but she took five steps back, around the table. For the first time, he wondered where the Winchesters and Cas had gone. They had been here, hadn't they?

Amy had funny almost smile on her face now, teeth bared and eyes glittering with madness and tears. Her hands were turning over themselves, turning, turning. "My mother, oh, I took my time killing her. Hung her by her small intestine. I don't quite remember if she died of blood or oxygen loss. Could be either, really. Did you know the small intestine is about twenty feet long? I know that now."

"Amy," he breathed. "why didn't you tell me?" He tried, again, to reach for her, but she was gone.

"Mummy always called us her angels. Tatsriel and Amriel. I was her darling angel of May. Daddy always laughed and tugged my hair and called me his angel of mayhem.

"My father wasn't a stupid man. He saw the flicker black eyes and he looked at me and said It's not your fault darling, but do you think that matters? Do you think that matters at all? It doesn't change the fear in his eyes and his agony and his screams. He could tell me he forgives me all he liked but that doesn't change the fact that his green fleece was decorated in blood and flesh and the spaghetti we had for dinner. It still smelled like garlic."

"Amy," Ben said desperately. "It wasn't you. It was never you."

"Oh!" Nearly a scream. "Yes it was, Benny Braeden boy. I've looked up the lore. Your Dean's little Sammy? He fought off Lucifer. And even before you say 'Oh, but apocalyptic motivation!', his good ol' friend Bobby fought off a demon too. And that was just at the threat of stabbing! I didn't just stop at threat, I ripped I tore I murdered.

"Just like that saying, oh? I came, I saw, I conquered." And Ben almost wanted to vomit at the loathing in her eyes, how dry they were now, like she'd cried herself to desert. "I woke, I watched, I killed."

All Ben could feel was angry. Her words were pulling at too many half-remembered stories, too many uncomfortable places in caverns never meant to see the light of day. "Amy, that wasn't you! It wasn't your fault, you didn't kill them. God, Amy, stop. Just stop."

She rounded on him like a snake, fangs bared. Voice nearly an octave lower. "No. Braeden, you don't get to say that to me."

"Why?" He countered, slamming his hand on the table. "Amy, that's horrible and I get that but you've been sitting here for an hour. More than that. And all you're talking about is you! Everyone becomes a hunter somehow, some will have it even worse."

Time froze. Ben still breathed, still took heaves of air to replace the anger slowly dripping off the words in the air.

"Oh, fuck you, Ben." Amy's entire being rang with finality. "I have listened to you whine about your problems. I just gave up the thing that gives me the most worth in this world to protect your mother. I have trained you, I have picked you up and carried you when you couldn't stand, I have killed things that wanted you gone." And she shook her head. Once. "I am done. Take care of yourself, Ben, because I'm not doing it for you anymore. See how long you survive."

And that canvas sound withered through the air and Amy wasn't standing there. He heard a surprised shout from the upstairs, a crash, and the faint echo of the flapping again.

And Amy was gone.


...I doubt that was what you were expecting when I said 'Amy backstory!'. But it's the truth. You know she was possessed. You know she killed her parents. This is just bloody icing on the cake.

Also, Ben is an idiot! Is anyone surprised? No? Yeah. His social skills need work. Poor Amy, having to deal with his sorry butt. It's amazing she lasted this long. Like she said, she did everything for him, and what does he do? Yeah. Tell her to suck it up. *sigh*

I hope you liked the chapter (another of my favourites. This is telling of my mental state. XD) and I'll see you soon!