ONE AND ONLY TRIGGER WARNING: This story was rated M for 18 and up for a reason. It strongly alludes to drug use, alcohol abuse, relationship abuse (both physical, mental, emotional, and verbal), violence, self-harm, suicide, certain political views, abortion, and possibly even lemons in the future between certain characters below. If these topics affect you in anyway shape or form, or if you are under 18, then I strongely urge you to reconsider continuing. If you do, enter at your own risk. I promise though that these themes may not always be as gruesome, and there will be character growth later on, but they will still be there, and possibly alluded to slightly later on. This chapter contains more than it's fair share though. So once again, if these things affect you in anyway, as rated as a M story, just know that you enter at your own risk beyond this point.

Summary of the story: There was several things I was sure of at this point in my life. For one, it wasn't getting any easier. Number 2, I also realized, was that apparently alternate realities do really exist. Thirdly, apparently Supernatural was one of them. Number 4, I've got an angel, a demon, a reaper, and a witch all working as a group apparently to watch over my every move, and to use me as their 'Key' in finding this special vessel or whatever; not to mention, keeping me out of Azrael's clutches. However, that should be the least of my issues when it comes to Number 5. My last and biggest problem... Dean FUCKING Winchester. Oh Chuck, help me now!

(Yes Azrael. As in the angel of death. Not Azazel the demon by the way. I thought I should probably clear that up too. There is only so much room that they give you in the description bar, if you know what I mean lol.)

Timeline of the story: This takes place in Season 4, Episode 4, beginning part of Metamorphosis. It will follow canon for all intents and purposes... at least, for the most part. However, in the beginning the time will jump from year 2020, back to the SPN timeline's year. Hopefully that will keep some confusion at bay for you for a bit. If there are any future time jumps I'll be sure to warn you in the chapter, as well as in the author's note if I can; at least without giving everything away to keep the mystery in some parts lol. As another warning, this is also written in the first person point of view, and may jump to other views as time goes on. That way you can get a feel for what the characters are thinking, and also the situations later on as well. What a charater is thinking may not always be what is truly going on during that time. The mind is messy, so feel free to be warned of that as well.

Pairings: Main pairing (Dean, OC)...and eventually a (Castiel, OC) with another OC character. (Sam, OC) may happen as well, and even with other OC characters possibly. This will also include normal pairings within the SPN timeline (Canon) as well. Non-romantic (or friendly pairings) include (OC,OC), (Sam, OC), and (Castiel, OC).

Actresses Playing the OCs: Eliza Taylor (Clarke from The 100) as Raelyn Kayla Bayard… Minka Kelly (Dove from The Titans) as Ariel (the angel)… Carice Van Houten (Red Witch from The Game of Thrones) as Evanora (the witch)… Marie Avgeropoulos (Octavia from The 100) as Cara (the demon)… Mishael Morgan (Hilary from The Young and the Restless) as Loralai (the reaper).

So now, I should probably start out by saying that this is still just a test run. Just to get the feels of if it's even liked, or if y'all wish for me to even continue it. I do have a lot of ideas for this story at the current time, and they keep bouncing back and forth in my brain and just won't stop nagging me since my new obsession with SPN started. It's gotten so bad that I haven't even been able to touch my other stories from before. Especially since I finally got my computer up and running again. Which really makes me sad, because I really do want to continue them, but I need to get some of this off my chest first. So, hopefully, it goes over really well. If it does, I'll keep adding more chapters to it. If not, I'll just fight through my writers block and finish the others if I can, and let this one go. Although, I'll admit that I don't know if I'm in the same head space for them anymore. A lot has gone on since I last posted on here, and a lot of it kind of leaks into this story like in many of my others. Let's just say it's been a very bad past two years for me, and a lot of mistakes were made that I can't take back. However, I'm doing my best now to learn from them, and grow again. I'm praying that things get better, and I stay on the right track again. If not for me, but for my readers out there. I feel bad for leaving y'all hanging. I really do. Hopefully I'll get back to the rest of my stories soon.

Anyway, enjoy this wonderful story of dundundun! The Broken Key….

Disclaimer: I DO NOT OWN SUPERNATURAL in anyway, shape or form, (as sad as that fact may be for me.) The only thing that I do own is whatever original characters that I make-up, and that weren't originally on the show. So please SUPERNATURAL, don't sue a girl here for loving your show. Besides I'm broke anyway, and all you'll probably get is the shirt off of my back….. probably thrown in the direction of Jensen Ackles or Misha Collins. Sooooo take your pick LOL. Seriously though, I DO NOT OWN SUPERNATURAL ONCE AGAIN!

+Sweet Dreams+

At first, everything just felt numb.

Not the kind of numb feeling you'd get coming out of a deep sleep either. You know, that one feeling I'm talking about. The one where you'd gone to sleep at a decent hour the night before, took that daily dose of NyQuil, and then had one of those peaceful dreamless kind of sleeps, or even the sweet dreams kind?

No, definitely not that one, this kind of numb was different.

It was the kind of feeling you'd get coming out of surgery. It even felt like that time I'd gone to have my wisdom teeth removed. It was the kind of numb where you couldn't quite place just when exactly you'd passed out while that doctor had been counting back, but the feeling was almost just as worse. Almost like it had been combined with the first time you'd sworn to your friends that you weren't to far gone yet on that twenty-first birthday tequila, when in fact, you had been... buuuut you decided to continue with that stupid endeavor just to prove a point of outdoing everyone else at the party. You know, that lovely morning after hangover that I'm talking about now, right? That's what it felt like. It felt like the two incidents had just suddenly decided to come together to have some kind of horrible monstrous baby, and you were now the unwilling test subject of this new evil and gruesome experience.

Yep, that feeling wasn't pretty.

Anyway, I couldn't quite seem to conjure up enough strength to even open my eyes within that moment, or even reach out a hand to place where I was at by just the mere touch of the 'solid' surface beneath me. All I could hear was the familiar sloshing sound in my ears as if I'd somehow found myself underwater….in the ocean….and apparently way out at sea if that tells you anything.

However, that soon became the least of my worries.

As if a light switch had suddenly been flicked on somewhere deep within me me, I now felt that all to familiar pain that comes with a hangover as my body cried out in shock. What made it even worse is that no matter how much I tried to fight it, I found that only seemed to amplify it more. Before long, I even found myself believing that if a nurse was to truly walk in and ask me what my pain level was right now, I'd be more than happy to tell her that it was at a level ten despite her pursed lips or obvious disbelief at my admission.

Letting out a low, yet small, whimper, I tried to force my eyelids to cooperate with the directions my mind was attempting to give them; it was almost like a tiny whispered prayer made in vain to please...please…let them open just so I can get up and figure out how to quell this waking nightmare. However, it seemed it was the anxiety that kicked in next instead, as my mind carefully made it's way back to me, and try as I might, I just couldn't seem to piece together what had happened last night, or why I even felt this way. Better yet, I couldn't even remember what had been the last thing that I had even...well….remembered. All the while, I felt that tiny niggling in the back of mind….(the anxiety mind you)….the one that kept whispering that it was detrimental to my health right now that I get myself together….or else something worse may happen. I needed to move. NOW.

Pushing that feeling aside once more, I began trying to focus on my last few memories of where I'd been the night before; almost hoping that it may find me a bit of clarity to my situation instead.

I remembered being at home

I even remembered arguing with my mother beforehand.

At that thought though, I felt my body quite literally cringe.

It hadn't been one of my best moments, but then again, when had it ever been a good memory when arguing with my mother about the state of my life?

It's not like the topic we'd been arguing about hadn't been much better either….that much I remembered too.

It was like all of our other more recent fights.

I had tried once again to express to her how I had been feeling. Maybe open up to her about the inner turmoil that had been dragging me down lately. I had even prayed that maybe she would have been a bit more consoling for once, and maybe even would have had some answers or suggestions on what my next move should be. You know, like how to fix the crap that had become my everyday life as of late.

It's usually what most of us would do in that very low point of our lives when we had nowhere else to turn.

Why not ask the parent, right?

Then again, I guess the past few years hadn't made her very sympathetic towards my issues.

I mean, what with being diagnosed with a horrible case of bipolar...and depression... AND a giant heaping of that well-known body-crippling anxiety attacks that everyone jokes about, but doesn't really understand until they've gone through it themselves, (or have actually been medically diagnosed with it, thank you, very much.) Yeah, you would think that would be enough to end that sad tale of my emo-like woes at this point, right? WRONG...definitely wrong.

Add that all in with a seven-year-long, on-and-off again, abusive relationship with the devil of all narcissists himself; one of which I had ever so recently, and happily mind you, just put in jail for a domestic violence charge.

Yeah, I'd say at this point the story is getting worse on my end now, but sadly there's even more to tack on.

Of course, I can't forget to mention the added drug charges on top of the rest of things he'd been taken in for, because of course the douche-bag I had decided to coughlovecough, and shack up with was not only a user, but a dealer himself on top of it all. You would think that would be the icing on top of the proverbial cake, but it goes on to get worse still. Much worse.

Why might you ask? Well it probably didn't help that not only did I love him, I also felt the need to listen, and do, everything that he asked of me all because of his insistent gas-lighting. Of course, that can lead down a pretty dark road too. Especially when that person is a dealer, and an already toxic individual. At that point, it's like God is just flipping a coin. It usually is going to be a fifty-fifty on what's going to happen to you next. Before I even knew it, I'd found myself helping him sling the dope on top of doing an already downward dive of snorting the shit right along with him. All the while, I kept telling myself that I could still maintain a 'healthy' lifestyle, and keep mine from falling apart like his had already. That I didn't have to be like him, and that I could still be the good girl that worked hard, and kept her nose straight for the most part. I even told myself that I could keep my more than mundane retail job at the local pharmacy, and that my coworkers would be none the wiser. Last part seems kind of ironic at this point, right?

Not really.

Suffice to say I wasn't my coworkers pick of the year already by the time this stuff started going on, and after seeing breakdown after breakdown they'd already decided how they felt about me, and what they wanted done to me no matter how hard I worked, or how much I tried to do better after I tried to clean myself up. To them, I was just a ticking time bomb.

So, needless to say, it didn't take them long to get wind of everything, or even why it had been affecting my job no matter how much I tried to keep it at home with me. With that final ammunition that they'd been looking for, it wasn't long before I found myself searching the job ads again.

See where I'm going with this now?

Anyway, I guess to sum it all up, I'll put it all into these last few words.

I had Daddy and Momma issues, mental problems, a stupid abusive ex, drug use, loss of my job, sober, homeless, broke, living back at home with my parents, suicidal tendencies (not even mentioning the actual attempts on top of it all too), and it was all just a few days before my wonderful twenty-ninth birthday coming up; not to mention my ten-year high school reunion looming just a few months away to kick-start that sad pathetic story of how my life had all but went to complete and utter crap within a matter no time. There's probably a hell of a lot more to the story to still add, so as to make you understand my situation a little bit more, but that's the least of what I'm probably getting right now after that 'tiny' rant, I'm sure.

To state it plainly, pity had never gotten me anywhere in life. If anything, I'd found it particularly pathetic, and I had only found that it brought me more pain in the end. So, yeah, I think we'll just leave that sad and lonely revelation be for the moment so as to get back to the point of what is currently going on in this horrible moment of my life.

So, anyway, that was just the first memory that popped up, and just as quickly as I had let it swarm my mind, I made sure to hurry and push it away again.

Slowly delving further into the darkest parts of my brain now, I made sure to fast-forward to the last moment of that final argument I'd had with my mother, when I had all but screeched out, "I'VE... LOST... EVERYTHING! YOU SHOULD HAVE NEVER HAD ME IN THE FIRST PLACE! YOU SHOULD HAVE GOTTEN RID OF ME FROM THE VERY BEGINNING! YOU KNOW, SINCE I'M SUCH A HUGE FUCKING PROBLEM. IT WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER FOR EVERYONE IF I NEVER EVEN EXISTED! I NEVER ASKED TO…I-I just...I….I c-c-can't...I'M DONE!" Those had been the last words I had screamed in my mother's face before slamming the door behind me in defeat.

With it all coming back to me now, it wasn't long before it completely swallowed me up inside. It almost felt like some type of enormous tidal wave crashing into me all at once, as the memories suddenly began bombarding me like some type of floating debris hitting me from all sides. Every few seconds I would get a few more tiny tidbits of what had happened as the emotions and the feelings flooded every single part of my brain.

I could see myself hopping in a car.

I could even hear 'Knockin' on Heaven's Door' playing in the background behind my lit phone, as I searched my contact list.

Even saw myself handing someone what bit of cash I had left to my name nearly in exchange for what they were now slipping into my hand.

Suddenly, I was at some low class, skeevy-looking hotel, checking myself in, and the next...I was in my room; doing one line after another.

Last night, I had ended my sobriety.

I had even hoped that it was for good too, as I prayed to whoever was out there listening that it would just end it...all of it. That everything would just finally go numb….that I could just….forget.

God! I was an idiot!

Now look at me.

Obviously sporting the worst hangover known to man, and possibly lying in a hospital somewhere with my mother probably just waiting to jump my ass around the corner .

Just one more idiotic move I've made to add to the ever growing list.

After some minutes of rolling around in my own misery once more, I felt a bit of my strength coming back to me again, as I let out another tiny whimpered moan. This time, however, I'd found that I'd finally had to strength to just manage to get my eyelids to cooperate with me again, as I more so heard them, than actually felt them, flutter open.

Then again, those few seconds of brief victory were quickly dashed as well, as I was immediately assaulted by the blinding white-light above my head.

Trying to blink away the pain of what literally felt like staring into the sun, I used that time to get a feel of my surroundings instead as the rest of my motor functions slowly started returning. Although, what I found next only seemed to worry me more as I lazily moved my hands around to feel the smooth surface of the porcelain curving beneath my wandering palms. Immediately, I found myself assaulted by the hard musty smell of mildew tickling the very back my nostrils.

Grimacing, as my nose rolled up in disgust at the odor, I tried to force myself to breathe through my mouth instead, but even that felt like a feat within itself for the rest of my body. Every breath I took made it seem like my lungs would collapse on me at any moment. I was just barely able to get out a few pants of air at a time, but I guess that would have to do for now. Anything was better than smelling whatever was coming out of that drain pipe beneath me.

Instead, I tried to focus on the rest of my body, and the other last important sense that had yet to make it's appearance. With enough will power though, and a lot of inward curses to follow, I did finally manage to just barely lure it back….although it may have still been a bit to soon, as I found that it seemed slightly garbled at the moment.

Despite that though, it was a relief compared to where I'd found myself before, and for that I was thankful. I could have been much worse off after what I had done to myself. That much I knew.

Trying to push myself up a bit, and further away from the drain, I could just barely make out a pair of voices nearby talking. Immediately, my body went on red alert, as I halted within my movements.

Trying to zero in on the other noises around me first, I finally managed to pluck them away from the far off one that I had been intent upon. It was only when the others faded into the background that I was truly able to understand the noise I'd been hearing. However, I don't think that made me feel any better actually, as I realized that these new voices were very much distinctly male.

Yep, that's what seemed to shock all of my senses back alive finally, as the horrible thoughts and memories of my friends and family telling me horror stories crashed back into my brain. The stories of people kidnapping you, and cutting you up in a tub for your body parts to sell. Yeah, gruesome, I know, but still….you never really know. Especially now, as my vision finally made its way back to me, and I found myself lying in what looked like a hotel bathroom…..at least, that's where I'm assuming it was since I already knew it was obviously a bath tub I was sitting in, and I could even see the distinct motel bath tissue wrapped up neatly nearby the commode….impaired vision or not, I knew the signs.

Trying to lift myself out of the tub once more, I found myself now cradling my pounding skull with the palm of my hand, as I tried to focus on the new voices now being raised behind the closed door in front of me.

"I TOLD YOU!"

"And I have every reason in the world to believe that," came the near whispered reply of another man after the first bellow had nearly sent me to the floor again. Scowling in pain, I thought to myself, 'Side note: If you do manage to get out of here unscathed, avoid screamers like that whenever you have a migraine this bad again.'

Continuing to clutch my forehead, as if that would quell the pounding headache that had currently set up home base within the frontal lobe of my brain, I reached out with my other hand to steady myself against the tiles of the pastel green wall beside me; hoping that would stop the oncoming dizzy spell from taking over. However, the voices merely continued on on the outside of the door as though they were completely oblivious to their victim currently still being held within bathroom nearby. I wasn't sure if they were just ballsy, plain stupid, or if they thought I'd been drugged up just enough so as not to care. Either way, it looked like I had one advantage at least.

"Look, I should have said something. I'm sorry Dean. I am...but try to see the other side here!"

"THE OTHER SIDE!"

Once again it felt like my head was currently being assaulted with a hammer, as the pain sky-rocketed once more. It was so bad that I practically missed the next garbled part spoken on the outside of the door, as I tried to rub my temples to ebb away the discomfort as much as that feeble attempt would allow me.

However, it wasn't until I heard a crash from behind the door that I forced my mind to focus once again on my current situation, because whatever was going on out there, it obviously wasn't going to well for someone…..and if this was a kidnapping scenario….well, let's just say beggars can't be choosers when looking for an escape option. Especially one where the kidnappers are currently preoccupied with themselves.

"IT'S ALREADY GONE TOO FAR, SAM," one of the men bellowed once more, as a beat of silence followed. Slowly though, and straining every last one of my senses, I tried to focus on the man's next words, as he replied back, "If I didn't know you… I would want to hunt you."

Why did that phrase suddenly sound familiar….better yet, why did that voice sound familiar?

Moving closer to the door, as I hugged the wall next to me, I pressed my ear near the crack waiting for the other's response, as my fight or flight instincts battled for dominance inside of me. However, pushing them down, I kept telling myself that something wasn't right. Something about this situation didn't seem normal. Those voices….those names. They sounded way to familiar to be some weird creepy dudes trying to kidnap me, and harvest me for organs or something. Better yet, something about those voices, and what they were saying….sounded almost eerily comforting to my ears and mind.

"And so would other hunters."

"You were gone….and I was here. I had to keep on fighting without you, and what I'm doing….it works."

There was a moment of pause before the gravelly voice of the other familiar man replied once more, "Well, tell me. If it's so terrific...then why'd you lie about it to me. Why did an angel tell me to stop you?

"What," both me and the other guy whispered at the same time, as the man's words finally seemed to register inside my brain.

What the hell was this guy talking about?! What did he mean by angels trying to stop the other guy…was he crazy...did he...and then suddenly as if a bomb had gone of inside my brain, I gave a small groan as I remembered what I'd been watching the previous night before while drinking and snorting myself to death in front of the hotel's old, almost retro, TV.

It had been some kind of show my uncle had begun prompting me to start watching about a year ago, and until a few months back, I hadn't had any interest, but I guess when you're trying to go sober, and you have nothing else to do….well, you'll find about anything to help you zone out of the world for a little while. So what did I do…..yep, I binged that show. Every last episode, and even the newer ones up until recently. The ones about God being the bad guy, and that kid Jack coming back or something.

'What was it called again?' I wondered quietly, as I tried to place the name with my pounding headache. This moment would have actually been funny to my best-friend... at least if she saw me right now trying to remember it. I had sort of become a real big geek with it as of late, and I just couldn't stop talking about whenever she was around. I mean, it was just that kind of show you couldn't get enough of. The kind where you're finding yourself looking up fanfictions for it, or listening to YouTube fan-made music videos even. The kind where, even though you can't stand your drunk of an uncle, you find yourself still hanging out with him as he pulls up convention video after convention video of the show's stars just so you could stare at the funny little eye candy parading themselves around onstage. It was the kind of show you could just forget your own problems for a few minutes, relax, have a drink, and watch someone else deal with their own supernatural problems.

'THAT'S IT' I thought with glee as the name rushed back to my brain.

SUPERNATURAL!

I had been watching Supernatural last night hoping it would take my mind off of things, and maybe even give me a bit of peace… maybe it was a last ditch effort to keep myself from even doing the unthinkable too. Either way, that's what had been on last night.

Nearly giggling in both embarrassment and glee now, I realized I must have just left the TV on or something, before coming in here and probably passing out in my stupor. It was more than likely just the channel doing reruns on the show or something out there right now, and if I was assuming right, it was Episode 4, Season 4; Metamorphosis. The last episode I actually remember watching last night before everything got too fuzzy. I guess if the network was already re-airing it, then I'd probably been out for quite a bit now.

Shaking my head with another muttered groan at that thought, I reached for the bathroom door just as my cell phone started going off within the other part of the hotel room….or maybe it was the TV? Who knows? Either way, I had only one goal in mind right now, and it wasn't answering any calls, or making them for that matter.

Right now, all I cared about was getting back to the hotel bed, and trying once again to sleep off this horrible hangover before going to face the music back at home…..not to mention maybe trying to actually stick to my sobriety this time. Especially after embarrassingly hallucinating that the voices on the TV were real….that cringe worthy moment should make any individual start doubting going off the bandwagon any time soon. Either way, that's something I wouldn't be bringing up in therapy anytime in the near future though. I could already see how that would play out. With that thought, and a smile splitting the corners of my lips for the first time since I woke up, I stumbled back into the other room.

"Carthage, Missouri. Looking for Jack Montgomery. Got it…."

"WHA-WHO THE HELL IS SHE," a voice suddenly boomed from within the room, as I made my way further in, while still cradling my head, and trying not to fall over as the dizziness amplified once more.

However, at the angry outburst, and suddenly….and very clearly…. remembering that had NOT been part of that episode, I suddenly faltered in my steps as the panic attack began racing through my body. Tilting my head to finally look up at the slightly blurry masses in front of me, I found two VERY REAL men currently standing in my hotel room, and a VERY TURNED OFF TV sitting across from them.

Eyes going wide, and spluttering in disbelief, I took one good look at a very angry JENSEN ACKLES, and one wide-eyed innocent JARED PADALECKI standing just a few feet in front of me.

I barely had time to see 'Dean or Sam,' prepare themselves, or their weapons of choice, before my vision began to blur once again. Before I could even blink, I felt my body going forward, and my lights going out. Last thing I remembered was a pair of strong arms suddenly wrapping around me right before I hit the floor.

I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter for now, and remember, please leave a review to let me know what you think so far. I'd really appreciate if you could. Anyways, have an amazing day!

LOVE Y'ALL and XO's,

DesireOFFantasy

P.S. THANKS FOR READING EITHER WAY. :-)